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nejibaby · 3 years

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Memories

Pairing: Neji x Fem!Uchiha Reader

Summary: There are a lot of terrible things that have happened to you as an Uchiha that you wanted to forget. But with Neji’s help, you’re able to move on and move along. Things have started getting better for you, however, once the Fourth Shinobi War was declared, time seemed to start running out.

Word Count: 2.1k

Memories - Part 1 | Deja Vu - Part 2

A/N: I didn’t exactly follow the plot and somehow it turned so angsty 🙈 Please let me know your thoughts~

There are memories you hold so dear that you refuse to have them tainted no matter what. Most of those memories are of the times you spent playing or training with your brother Shishui, his best friend Itachi, and Itachi’s brother Sasuke. Those times were the golden days for you; the best of the best, if you may.

Conversely, there are also memories that you just wish would disappear. They’re the memories of incidents you wish didn’t happen at all. They’re the type of memories that you push at the back of your mind, because you believe that if you think about it or even spare a single second for it, then it’ll be more real. Because you’re in denial. You’re in denial not only about the death of Shisui, but also of the Uchiha clan.

But then there’s a single memory you have that always stands out. It’s a memory that you both want to forget and remember.

The tragedy of the Uchiha clan had changed the only survivors — you and Sasuke. You had already started changing a little because you had to deal with your brother’s death, but seeing the horrible scene in the clan’s district had been the icing on top.

Your drastic change had been evident on the day you came back to the Academy after you were discharged at the hospital. What once was a girl full of life had become an empty shell.

The moment you sat down entered the room, people had started talking. Mostly it’s just about asking someone else if you were an Uchiha or if they know about the clan’s misfortune. They were meaningless chatters so you easily drowned them out.

But there was a comment that had reached your ears. “Why is it such a big deal? People die anyway, it just so happened her clan died on the same day.”

The comment kept ringing inside your head but then someone beside you spoke up, “Don’t you have anything else better to do than talk about someone else’s life?”

He was met with silence so he continued saying, “People die everyday, it’s a fact. Some die because of illnesses, some because of old age, some because of poverty, accidents, or murder. As shinobi, we can die in the line of duty. But that doesn’t make death any less painful to the one left behind.

“If your family is alive, then good, but maybe use that brain of yours because logic says not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

Naturally, you want to forget about the unsolicited comment of your classmate, but you want to remember that among the students inside the room, one boy had stood up for you. Quite frankly, you needed his saving that day. Otherwise, you would’ve beaten yourself up for mourning too long.

And when you realized who that boy was, his words weighed even more. Because Hyuga Neji was a boy notoriously known for thinking that everyone’s fate is predetermined from birth and that luck plays absolutely no part in it.

“Not everyone gets to be as lucky as you.”

And for a hot minute he had abandoned his belief as he stood up for you.

It sounds hypocritical if you think about it.

But maybe just as he had saved you, you had opened his eyes just a little bit and helped him see that his beliefs were skewed too. In a way, you had helped each other, at least you hoped.

It’s because of that day, that memory, that you find yourself gravitating towards Neji.

It isn’t attraction at all at first, more like genuine curiosity about him and his life. But you didn’t get to know him further until the Chunin exams where he had disclosed the way of their clan. It’s at that time where you understood why he acts the way he acts.

You can’t help but wonder about how two clans with almost similar circumstances— both with kekkei genkai, both living in Konoha, both considered to be one of the strongest clans in the shinobi world— could have completely different ways of living. One clan is almost completely annihilated, while the other has slaves of their own blood. And if you’re being completely honest, you aren’t exactly sure which is better.

You have gotten the urge to talk to him after hearing his story, although you really didn’t know what to say. But then the chance never came up because of the chaos orchestrated by Orochimaru.

After the Chunin exams and the attack of Orochimaru, you hadn’t heard of Neji for a while since you’ve been tasked to help with the repairs of the village. And when you did hear about him, it was terrible, terrible news.

Sasuke left the village to seek power from the very person who just wrecked havoc in Konoha. His leaving alone left you in despair. What Itachi was to Shisui is exactly what Sasuke means to you, and him doing such a thing without even letting you know makes you feel like a failure both as a friend and as a family.

The news didn’t end there, however. Apparently the squad that Shikamaru had led to retrieve Sasuke had been severely injured and were on the brink of death — one of them being Neji.

You remember feeling guilt and regret burning your skin. You remember the shame of not being able to save Sasuke from the darkness and not being able to help the retrieval squad in any way. You blame yourself for the horrible things that happened.

Since then, you have made it a point to visit the squad in the hospital every day, making sure you apologize and thank them for their service. But admittedly, it’s Neji that you always stay with longer.

It’s not that you aren’t comfortable with the others, they’re really nice and easy to get along with. But they always have other visitors with them, mostly their team members and relatives. Neji, on the other hand, didn’t get as many visits since his other teammate, Rock Lee, was also injured because of his fight with Gaara. So Tenten and Guy sensei would switch visits between the two every other day.

Besides that, his clan members rarely ever visited. And you didn’t want him to be alone in such trying moments, especially when you didn’t get to do anything to prevent this from happening.

As closed off as Neji is, because of your constant visits, you have found a way to worm yourself into the walls he put up. And by the time he’s discharged from the hospital, you somehow became close friends.

From that moment on, you find yourself coming to Neji on times that you’re in despair and in doubt. You trust him enough to tell him your stories, worries, and fears because he doesn’t judge you. And he does the same with you.

Neji listens when you want him to listen, and talks when you need him to talk. He’s quite level headed and very much rational, and because of that he gives the best advice.

With him, you find yourself healing and growing. With you, he finds himself learning to forgive.

Neji easily makes you see things in a different way; a different light; a different perspective, and helps you become a better shinobi and a better person in general.

For you, Neji has such a comforting aura. While he’s sometimes cold and stoic around others, with you, he softens up. With you, he’s gentle; careful even. And it’s because of this that you find yourself admiring him more and more.

But before anything could happen — before you could even confess — the Fourth Shinobi War was declared.

Just like that, time seemed to start running out. And you have lost all hopes of being together with Neji as a lover rather than a friend.

The war is awful. Quite frankly, it overwhelmed you too much, too easily. The bodies lying on the floor with dried out blood reminded you of the massacre of the Uchiha clan. But the only person who’s able to calm you down and help you move along is Neji.

The both of you fight side by side, always nearby Hinata in case she would need help. When the night comes and the enemies cease their attack, it’s your turn to talk Neji into relaxing a bit because he’s started straining his eyes from too much use. And because it’s you who asked and it’s you who’s there with him, he knows he and the rest of the Allied Forces are safe, so he rests.

But somehow chaos ensues and in the middle of it, you both get separated. You’re worried deeply, but you trust his skills and his strength, and you know you’ll be reuniting with him again.

And reunited with him you did. But when you have found him once again, he’s blocking out the Ten Tails’ attack with... his body.

With desperation, you transported to his side as quickly as you can. Summoning your last bits of chakra, you use Susanoo to protect him, Hinata, and Naruto. The last thing you remember is the look of relief on Neji’s face, but before it could morph into worry, you have already blacked out.

By the time you have woken up, you’re in Konoha’s hospital. The first thing you see is Neji resting his head on the side of your bed, peacefully sleeping, looking as angelic as ever.

Your body aches with every breath you take, even more so with little movement. But you didn’t let that deter you from weaving your fingers along the Hyuga’s hair. He stirs almost immediately and then he opens his pretty eyes. He sits up upon seeing you.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” You softly ask.

He doesn’t respond to your question. “You’re awake,” he sighs in relief. “You’re finally awake. Let me go call Lady Tsunade and Sakura.” He stands up.

But before he can even take a step, you grab his wrist. “Stay,” you mumble.

Neji looks at you, reading your face. But then he nods and sits.

“Is it over?” You ask.

“Yes, the war’s over.”

“What happened after?”

“It’s a long story… but tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine. My body aches, but it’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal?!” Neji looks upset that it takes you by surprise. “Do you remember what happened? Didn’t you know you almost died?! You almost used up all your chakra to use Susanoo! That’s so stupid and reckless!”

His aggressive tone effectively gets you angry. “I did it for you!” You snap. “Of course I remember what happened! Even if I want to forget, the memory is branded in my mind! You fucking wanted to use your body to shield Naruto from that attack, didn’t you? How is that not stupid and reckless? Huh?”

Neji’s chakra flares up as he clenches his jaw. Yet, he doesn’t speak.

You breathe out, trying to calm down. You rarely ever fought with Neji and he’s never really raised his voice to you. With your body still tired and aching from the war, you didn’t want this conversation to escalate further so you try to diffuse the situation before it blows even more out of proportion.

In a low voice, you speak, “I was so scared, Neji. I didn’t want to lose you. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved.”

A tear falls down from your eye and Neji’s heart breaks at your forlorn state. “I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t…” you squeak. “I love you so much, I can’t lose you.”

Neji’s breath hitches at your declaration. He could hear his heart drumming against his chest.

You love him?

He doesn’t know if he heard you right or if his mind is just playing tricks on him. It happened before. He’s loved you for so long… and there have been plenty of days he dreamt of hearing you say you love him too. And right now he isn’t sure if this is the reality or just another one of his dreams.

As if you’ve read his mind — like you always seem to be able to do — you repeat your words. “I love you, Neji.”

It’s the confirmation that he needs. And hearing your words knocked the wind out of him. “I… I…” he starts saying.

But you’ve taken his stuttering and his pale, panic-stricken face as a sign of an incoming rejection, so you look down instantly and say, “It’s fine if you don’t like me the same way. I just hope we can still be friends after—”

“No, I… I love you too,” he breathlessly confesses before you even finish your rambling.

Your head whips up after the words left his lips. You stare at him, unbelieving.

And just as you did a while ago, he repeats his words with conviction, “I love you too.”

A smile makes its way to your face, and when he smiles back, you immediately know this is a memory you won’t ever forget.

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

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Nick Jakoby x Reader Oneshot- (Bright)

“Oink, oink over here piggy!”

The group of men standing in the doorway made you grimace. Damn they pissed you off. Nick walked pass them with his head lowered, trying his best to ignore the rude remarks. You’d just clocked in, and this had become a regular. Their tauntings. You really wanted to body slam all four of them. But you restrained yourself. “Don’t bother with them Nick, their dick heads. “ It was no secret that they hated the male Orc. Nick was by far the sweetest man on the force, and he wasn’t even a man. Which really said something for the unit.

“I’m used to it, it’s fine.” you frowned. He shouldn’t have to get used to it. He was just as hardworking and diligent as any other cop. You nudged his shoulder with a smile as you walked with him. “Cheer up, in a couple of hours we have that awful dinner to attend. You have worse things ahead." Nick shook his head with a shy smile. “Is that supposed to make me feel better.”

“Not really.” with a small giggle, you met your partner. Nick headed over to Ward, and your eyes wandered, just admiring him. You had no idea why people gave him such a hard time. It’s true that Orcs sided with the enemy in the past, but that was thousands of years ago. The world had changed so much since then, apparently not in the ways you hoped.

Nick was so misunderstood and underappreciated. He had so much to offer if he was just given a chance. Not to mention he was a total sweetheart. Pretty handsome too. The final thought erupts a blush to your cheek, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“What’s got you all red in the face?” Jacob, your partner raises an eyebrow, and your face gets darker. “Nothing let’s get going.” he doesn’t quite believe you, and you try to steal one last look at Nick before you have to get going, but Jacob catches the action, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Shit I knew it!!” His yell catches the attention of everyone in a five mile radius and as the officers stare, you feel Nick’s stare follow. You cower, smacking Jacob who just waves everyone off. When their gazes have diverted, you glare at the man before you. He raises his hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to cause a scene. Not everyday you discover your partner has a crush. Damn Victoria owes me twenty bucks!”

“Y-You betted on my love life with your wife!!”

“Umm, hell yeah I did. Why are you even surprised?” he was right, you shouldn’t have been. You just roll your eyes, and soon the both of you are headed to the squad car. Jacob is still wearing that smug grin as you jump into the vehicle. “So when are you gonna ask him out?”

“I-I’m not!”

“You’re kidding, you have to (Y/N)!” Jacob has always been majorly supportive, but you’re still a little anxious. Your head lowers. “Y-You don’t think it’s weird that I..I mean I don’t care if anyone says anything but I just..I..” The way you're struggling with your words, it’s not hard for Jacob to understand. “Listen, I’d never judge you for something like that. We’re partners (Y/N), practically family now. And honestly Nick is awesome, dude brings me scones every Tuesday cause he passes at my favorite shop on his way to work. He’s a hero in my book.” He lets out a few fake sobs to get his point across and you just groan at his childishness.

“Seriously though, Nick’s a really good guy. Everyone treats him like shit, yet he comes back and tells them to be safe. If it were me, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it that well. He could easily quit, probably just become the monster everyone keeps accusing him of being. But he wakes up and he does the job, all because he loves it, he generally cares about protecting people who don’t give a shit about him. It’s inspiring to watch. There aren’t many people like left in this world (Y/N), if you find someone like that, you should do what you can to hold onto them.” His finger ran over his wedding band, a smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I did.” His smile makes your face brighten, and you nod.

“I’ll do my best. “

So maybe your partner wasn’t a complete idiot.

That afternoon when you get home, you’re on a mission. Jacob’s advice is ringing in your head. He’s right. So you’ve decided this annual police will be your best yet. You were gonna go all out. You rarely ever get dressed up, too accustomed to dark suit pants and uncomfortable belts. You wanted something to catch Nick’s attention, then maybe it would give you the confidence to finally own up to your feelings and ask the guy out. You jump into the shower.

“Time to knock them dead. “

~Three hours later~

“Quit fidgeting, you look fine.” Ward smacks Nick’s hands away from the tie. He’s been messing with it for the last ten minutes, mostly out of nervousness. This is his first time he’s worn a tux. He feels a bit ridiculous, but with Ward’s assurance, he can only hope he’s pulling it off. They stand at a table making small talk, mostly Ward.

Nick offers a word here and there. By the looks he keeps getting, he can tell that his opinion isn’t really wanted by the people there. So he busies himself with watching the other people mingling around him. Everyone looks relaxed, sipping wine, helpling themselves to food. He’s never been a fan of this. Every year they hold these little banquets to treat the new recruits and commend exemplary performances throughout the unit. It’s a fun event for the most part. But his fellow coworkers never rest with their harsh opinions. It isn’t even verbal, just by the looks he knows.

The sound of a few whistles catches his attention. There’s a small commotion at the doorway. He vaguely makes out the edge of purple, and that’s when he notices the man that walks in. But that isn’t what captures his eyes, it’s the woman he’s escorting on his arm.

Golden orbs widen, and his ears twitch a bit too quickly. He wants to control it, but it’s hard, because the smile that lands in his direction knocks the wind right out of him. “Wow, your girlfriend cleans up nice.” Ward whispers.

“S-She’s not my girlfriend.” he grumbles back. Now that you’re clear in his view, he can fully admire your dress. It’s a velvet luxe maxi dress. The color is a beautiful lavender. Thin straps at the shoulder, low cut displaying just enough cleavage. And a slit that stops mid thigh, with matching heels to complete the whole look. Your hair is loose, and a very light amount of makeup, highlighting your features. Nick thought you were gorgeous before, but somehow you’ve outdone yourself. He can’t look away, and he really should before you take notice.You settle at a table not too far from him, pulling the focus of a few males present there. With polite smiles and little words, Nick feels a bit envious.

“Now’s your chance hotshot. Ask her out before one of those hyenas beat you to it.” Nick wants to convince Ward that it’s useless, there’s no way you’d go for someone like him. You’re completely different in every sense of the word. He doesn’t have a chance. As he opens his mouth he’s about to lay out his case, but a sweet lavender scent fills his nostrils, and he wants to question the origin, just then he feels a light tap on his shoulder. He turns, and the heavenly aroma hits him tenfold. Somehow you’ve walked over without him realizing. He’s supposed to be more aware, he’s a cop after all. Your glossed lips turn into a smile as you bat your eyes.

“Nick..do you wanna maybe dance?”

The slow sound filling the room, doubled with the couples now filling up the floor catches his eyes. He’s tongue tied, because you can’t really be asking him. Out of all the guys there, why him? Yes, the both of you have been friends for months now, but he’s sort of assumed your kindness was due to pity more than anything else.

You're still watching him hopefully, and Ward gives an encouraging push. He stumbles, grabbing your shoulders lightly. When he’s steadied himself, he pulls back. “He’d love to.” Ward says. Nick doesn’t get a chance to put in a word for himself, because you smile, taking his hand and pulling him to the center of the dance floor. Nick is staggering behind, trying not to knock into anyone. When you get to your desired area, you turn back to him. Nick is stiff, the both of you are just standing there, a number of eyes on you. “I-I should probably just go, everyone is staring and I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” His eyes lift, and the way you look at him, it makes his heart hammer. What has he done to deserve your kindness, he has no idea.

Deciding that you need to be the one to make a move, you take his hands and place them around your waist as you step closer. You can feel the slight tremble in his palms that are pressed to your body now. It’s so adorable. He’s still stiff as a board, but you know he’s trying. He’s probably so touch starved. It hurts to just think about it. Your hands are resting on his chest lightly, and you sigh, swaying with the music. Nick swallows, he’s a bit taller than you, and he’s trying his best not to look down directly at you. With you so close it’s hard for him not to pass out at how amazing you smell. Your hands slide up, going around his neck. His eyes finally meet yours, and the meaning in your eyes, it triggers something in him. “Nick..” you’re whispering, and it breaks his train of thought. “Yeah.” you lick your lips, and he wishes he could just kiss those plump lips. They are begging to be touched.

“Do you possibly want to-” a hand pulling you from the Orc in your arms makes you jerk. Nick looks just as surprised. The officer standing between the both of you, suddenly it makes sense, and you're pissed. “Run along pig face, she’s tired of you.” Pollard rests a hand on your waist, pulling you into his side, and you shove him back. “You’re the one who’s interrupting, what the hell we were dancing!!” you're enraged. Not only has he messed up your plan to finally ask Nick out, but he’s also insulted him. Nick can see the displeasure on your face, and he’s about to suggest that maybe you leave. The last thing he wants is for you to get caught in the middle of this. He could take Pollard’s insults any day. But he doesn’t want any negative attention drawn to you.

“Come on you don’t have to give anymore charity, we all know why you do this. You feel bad for little piggy here. Don’t waste your evening on him, how about you come with me. Have some real fun.” It’s almost laughable that he thinks you’ll drop everything and just run off with him. Nick now looks less sure of himself, a bit defeated. It’s then you realize that he must have assumed the same. You’re being nice out of some foolish obligation. You open your mouth to assure him, but stop. This time, words may not be enough. It’s time to take action. So with two swift strides you grab Nick by the lapels of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss. Pollard gapes, and Nick is tense and wide eyed.

“I’m dreaming…” He has to be. You couldn’t be..kissing him. Your eyes are closed, and you still have a firm hold on his clothing. A few more seconds pass and you pull back slowly. Your eyes move from Nick’s soft lips, to his topaz eyes. The bewildered expression is highly anticipated.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” you take Nick’s hand, leaving a stunned Pollard, and a few surprised officers. You don’t even look back, you do however pass Jacob on your way out of the building. He’s grinning probably wider than you. When the door snaps shut behind you and you're free of the intrusive stares, you look at Nick. He’s still in a mid state of shock. “I’m sorry..” you mutter.

Now that the events play back, you’re bashful. You didn’t even get to ask him out. Nick collects himself slowly, shaking his head. “N-No it’s fine.” An awkward silence follows. You want to say something to cut the tension, but Nick interrupts. “I should take you home.” He doesn't look at you when he says that, and now you're a bit scared that you’ve crossed a line and misread all the signs. Self conscious and mortified, you just nod. Nick’s car is parked close, as he opens the door, you jump inside. He does the same, pulling off.

The ride is anything but pleasant. It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Nick is staring ahead, and the look he wears is unreadable.

“I ruined everything.” You should have never done that, especially since you weren’t even sure of any feelings. He must be completely disgusted with you. You're thankful that the ride isn’t long, because in a few minutes he pulls up. You don’t make any kind of eye contact, just whisper a thanks, opening the door and stepping out.

You want to cry, how did the night turn so horrible that quickly. As you close the vehicle door, you all but sprint to your house, taking out your keys and opening your front door. You don’t even bid him goodbye, you just focus on getting inside. You do, stepping in and leaning back as you shut the door. “Idiot!” you scold yourself. “I’m an idiot..” you bite your lip. How would you ever face him again.

The knock at your door makes you jump, and you turn, opening the door hesitantly. You peek outside, a bit surprised. “N-Nick..” He’s staring at you, maybe wanting answers for all that happened. You step back, letting him inside. He’s the one that closes the door this time.

“Why did you kiss me?” Blunt, to the point. From the look, you know he’s just as conflicted by all of this as you. Now might be your last chance. You’ve already kissed him, what was the harm in telling him the truth. It might help you both.

“Because I..It’s what I’ve wanted to do for months now. “ you confess. His forehead creases in astonishment. “Nick I’ve..I’ve had it bad for you for so long and it makes my blood boil every time I hear the way they talk to you! You’re so caring and selfless and goddamn hot to me and I wish everyone could see how amazing you are if they’d just give you an opportunity.” you’re rambling, but you don’t care. “That jackass Pollard ruined everything I had this whole night planned out, I was gonna wow you with this dress and then finally ask you out but then he came with his false macho bullshit and it just pissed me off and that’s why I grabbed you like that to show him that this isn’t some charity I actually am crazy about you and I..” you heave, for a minute there you forgot you should breathe. “I’m so crazy about you Nick.”

He’s still just standing there, and now you’ve given him a chance to speak. From his expression, he doesn’t know what to say. You were so out of his league.

“I don’t understand why you would..why..” that self conscious look, you’ve seen it many times.

“Nick, I want you.” he stops, eyes opening a bit wider now. “I’m tired of you being so hard on yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of. “ you take a step forward, and he doesn’t move a muscle. “Truthfully, when I saw you earlier in this tux, I almost passed out. “ your hands reach out, going back to where they had been before Pollard stepped in. Resting right on his broad shoulders. Another thing about him that made you swoon was his build. He was nicely muscular. It just messed you up. He needs a moment to gather his breath. “Nick do you..want me?”

“Of course!” his shout, as unexpected as it is, it makes you smile. He looks away at how desperate it sounded. “That’s good..” you don’t clarify, just lean in, and this time when your lips meet, he still doesn’t really prepare. It’s so tender, almost tentative. When he finally convinces his mind that it’s real, his hands wrap around your body, pulling you in. You sigh, and Nick responds, returning the kiss. Your head is in the clouds, You feel like you’re dreaming, if that’s the case you want to stay forever. You open your mouth, urging him to do the same, he does, taking control.

You moan when he pushes you up against the door, now kissing you hungrily. One of his hands drift down to your bare thigh, and another needy sound releases. You can’t stop it and you don’t want to. His free hand presses to the door, and your hands grip at the clothes on his back. You’re trying to pull him forward, and he complies, pressing into you. It feels so great, his firm body trapping you there. There’s a low growl that comes from Nick, and somehow you’re even more turned on. Your hands have ventured back to the front of his tux, unbuttoning it quickly. It falls open and your fingers slip under the jacket, reveling in the taunt muscles.

Gosh does he feel amazing. Nick feels you start to pull at the shirt, he forces himself to part. When you’ve separated, you’re both flushed and panting. Nick still believes maybe he’s at home sleeping somehow. The new scent that fills the air nearly makes his knees buckle. Your lust is so prominent, he can almost taste it. Your chest is still heaving, but you're slowly coming down from your high, so is Nick. It’s then you realize what was about to happen if not for Nick’s pause. You feel a bit embarrassed now. You hug yourself, blushing a deep red.

“S-Sorry, guess I kind of got a bit crazy..” Nick smiles. “You don’t have to apologize.” He’d be stupid to make you feel bad about such a thing. He was just as equally responsible. Fact is, it took everything in him to stop himself. As much as he wants this to progress, he also wants more than just a heated night with you. He wants so much more.

“(Y/N), I’d..really like to take you out sometime..” he mumbles it, still fairly insecure about it all. The way your eyes light up though, his fears are all gone. You don’t respond, and he doesn’t need one because you jump into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek, grinning like a child on Christmas.

“You don’t even have to ask, it’s a yes.” you whisper in his ear. He holds you close, breathing in your scent. He wants to lock that away forever. He wants this to last forever. For now though, just being with you now, it’s enough.

#nick jakoby #bright #ward #love #orcs #fairies #elves #magic #acceptance #friends to lovers #insecure #cops #LAPD #parties #confessions #nick jakoby x reader #friendship #dorks in love

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crab-instruments · 3 years

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Dust in the Wind Part 5 (tbb)

Master <Part 4 Part 6>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: General audience, fighting, injury, panic/stress

Words: 2.2k

a/n: Action! We fight some people. Notes at the end. I hope the action is somewhat easy to follow and interesting.

My writing process involves me thinking of fight scenes as I listen to music while I walk, this one is choreographed to Rat A Tat by Fall Out Boy. This is unimportant and uninteresting but is how I get a lot of my ideas.

Surprisingly, this is the longest part of written and I cut it short. Thanks for all the likes and reblogs, y'all. Keeps me going.

Cid had given the Batch a mission to the Outer Rim. Tech had told the squad what planet but you had zoned out. Restarting your life every time something goes south was taking a toll on you and while your new crew was accommodating, it didn’t stop the stress of existing. You had gotten closer with the Batch on the trip to the next mission since it was a bit further out and you had time to get to comfortable. Wrecker and Omega seemed to enjoy your company the most, wanting to play games and share stories with you. Otherwise you helped Tech and Echo around the ship and chatted with them. Down times were spent with Hunter in the cockpit, watching hyperspace.

“Maxis… do you know how to sew?” Wrecker had caught you outside the armory, holding something behind his back.

You blinked, not used to seeing Wrecker so timid. “Uh yeah, I can sew. What do you need?” With a swift movement, he brought a red and black tooka doll between you. One of the arms had a rip in it, showing the stuffing inside.

His eyes looked sad as he said, “Lula got caught on a hook.”

“Ah, that should be easy. I can patch Lula up while you’re on your mission, so she’ll be ready when you get back.”

Wrecker smiled wide and pulled you into a hug. When you separated, he then held Lula out for you to take. As your hand touched the doll, your senses were overwhelmed with a rush of emotions and your head filled with memories that the doll contained. It stunned you for a moment and you had to close your eyes, not having experienced a force echo in a while. Luckily none of the memories were traumatic, just loud since Wrecker had strong emotions.

“Are you okay, Maxis?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking how cute Lula was,” you said with a smile.

The time between taking Lula from Wrecker and entering the planet’s atmosphere was fuzzy. Your mind was still on experiencing the force echo. Psychometry was a force ability that few Jedi had but most of the time it was a pain. You had to train a lot to get it under control when you were younger and when people found out about it, they wanted to do study you and learn everything about it they could. Since you had left the Jedi life and mostly disconnected with the Force, the echoes had dissipated. Having one suddenly didn’t sit well.

Tech’s voice grounded you back to the present as he alerted everyone he was landing the ship soon. Hunter appeared in the seat across from you, something in his hand. “This mission shouldn’t take very long, just a few hours. Here’s a comm, we will let you know when we are on our way back or if something goes wrong. I know you can’t fly but it would be useful if you could get the ship ready in case we need to leave in a hurry.” You nodded and took the comm. “Will you be okay, Maxis? I did say this would be dangerous. Although it’s unlikely, they could come to scout the Marauder.”

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong on my end I can let you know as well, though I bet the worst thing is I prick my finger sewing Lula together or shock myself with a live wire.” Hunter’s face softened and he seemed to relax a bit. Your eyes held his until the ship shook when it landed. When he got up, he put his hand on your shoulder for a moment before getting ready to head out.

You watched as they shuffled out of the ship, saying a quiet “be safe, please,” as they disappeared from your view.

The reality of being by yourself seemed to set in, making the Marauder daunting. There was Gonky, at least. Shaking that off, you settled in and got to work fixing up Lula’s arm. You made quick work, almost wishing you had more to work on. Taking apart the ship to make repairs was risky if they needed to leave quickly.

Slumping back in your chair, you held Lula in front of you. “What do you think I should do, Lula? I could go clean the air filter or organize the wires in one of the control panels, even though Tech does a pretty good job at color coding them. A few of the sensors could be looked at but… I’m still a little stumped on… why I got a force echo from you. You are special, I’m sure, but… I guess I could meditate for a bit, see if that helps clear things up.”

You crossed your legs in the chair and put Lula in your lap. Meditating was supposed to be relaxing, but it was harder to find a calm now. It felt empty, in a way. You tried hard though, seeking an answer as to why now.

After a few moments, your eyes shot open. Something was wrong. You gasped for breath the feeling of overwhelming apprehension. Someone was heading toward the ship. Three, maybe four, people and they didn’t feel like your crew. Hunter did say he would alert you when they came back and it hasn’t been that long.

Swiftly, you got to your feet and headed towards the cockpit where the comm was still sitting on a chair. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a white bucket helmet walk around the front of the ship through the windshield. Troopers. Your heart pounded in your ears and you sank quickly to the floor. The fear of being caught by the Empire was arguably your biggest fear, they hunted Jedi ruthlessly, even hearing about troopers trained to fight Jedi specifically.

A noise came from where the entrance ramp was, they were trying to get on the ship. You remembered that Tech had told you about an escape hatch in the cockpit, so you quietly crawled to it and lifted it up. You did your best to make sure that you were in the clear and dropped down.

“Dank farrik! It’ll be another minute to open the hatch,” one of the troopers exclaimed. It seemed the others were spread out around the area, so making a run for it wasn’t necessarily the smartest decision but taking on four troopers by yourself wasn’t wise either. Close quarters combat was a strength of yours, training to not depend on your lightsaber was a priority for your Master. Long range combat would be more of a struggle, as your shooting accuracy left something to be desired. One of the reasons you ended up leaving the Order was it became less about peace keeping and more about being a soldier, and the senseless death had caught up to you.

You did your best to keep calm. Everything in your body told you to run, escape, survive, but… what about the ship? This was your home now. Hunter… the squad… depended on this ship. If you didn’t do something to protect it, what would happen?

Unfortunately for you, the choice to run or fight was taken from you, when the trooper noticed you crouching by the front of the ship.

“Hey! Foun—” before he could finish his sentence, you rushed him. The trooper had his blaster pulled out when he saw you. You used the element of surprise to go for a disarm, checking his blaster arm with your left, getting your right hand on the opposite side to redirect his hand. The blaster clearing your stomach as you brought your right arm across your body. While sweeping with your right, you used your left to get a grip of his wrist. With this, you were able to free your right hand to strip the blaster from him, squeezing his wrist to force his hand lose and you were able to swipe it out of his grasp. Once the blaster was out of his hand, you pulled his left arm back, hooked your foot behind his right to destabilize him, and then gripped the front of his armor tightly to put as much power as you could into pushing him into the ground, you kneeling next to him. While not quiet strong enough to knock him out, it was enough to stun him for a moment since you used his and your weight against him.

You heard a movement behind the ship, the other troopers had been alerted. Scrambling for the blaster, you switched it to stun and shot twice, knocking out one trooper. The third trooper came from around the front of the ship and shot. You had just enough time to twist your body and dodge a majority of the shot, but it still skinned your left arm, leaving a nice wound for later. Two more shots from you to knock him out.

While your arm screamed in pain, you had one last trooper to deal with. Keeping crouched, you rounded the front of the ship.

“Freeze!” The trooper was right in front of you and you were staring down the barrel. Kark! Slowly, you put your hands up in a half surrender, but in that moment you thought of a plan.

“Catch!” You tossed the blaster towards him and the trooper, confused, went to catch it. You pulled your knife out of your thigh holster and rushed him. Using his now bent knee, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his mid-section, using the boost of the jump to shove him to the ground. You pressed the blade to his neck, ready, but hesitated. You couldn’t follow through, even when your life seemed to depend on it.

No good deed goes unpunished. The trooper pushed you off but you land within arms reach of your fallen blaster and you made quick work of stunning him.

For a moment, you sat there, breathing heavily and you hands shaking. Your pulse raged in your ears and adrenaline rushed through your veins.

Achievement Unlocked: You protected the Havoc Marauder! But now what? And what if… the squad finds out? Something about them knowing you took down the troopers didn’t sit right. The odds were stacked against you, what if they start getting suspicious? What if… What if Hunter gets mad?

Checking the trooper in front of you, you found a pair of handcuffs. More than likely they would all have handcuffs and you could move their bodies away from the ship, effectively disposing of them.

One by one, you dragged the troopers bodies away, putting them in some foliage after handcuffing one arm and the opposite ankle behind their back. Hopefully this would keep them relatively immobilized when they woke up. After moving the last one, you could no longer handle the pain of the blaster shot and headed to the ship.

You looked for the med kit and handled it with shaky hands. After applying the bacta and patching it up, you did your best to hide the wound with your sleeve. You then went to your backpack and grabbed the small notebook and pencil. Something about writing felt better than using a holopad, so this is where you kept your notes for supplies and such. Though it was difficult, you wrote ‘bacta and bandages’ to your supplies list. Hopefully they wouldn’t get mad at you using their supplies but just in case, you would just silently replace it. No one would know.

As everything seemed to wear off, all you wanted to do was crawl into a small area and hide. You found an area between some crates and sank down, willing yourself to melt into the floor. In an effort to calm yourself, you muttered a few bars of the song that had stuck with you.

“♪ Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind ♪”

A beep cut into your thoughts. “Maxis, come in, do you read me?” Hearing his voice, you became renewed with a sort of energy. You stood up, walked over to the cockpit once more, and grabbed the comm. “Loud and clear, Hunter.”

“Great, we’re done and on our way back, we had a small set back but no other problems.”

“I’ll start up the ship for you.”

************************************************************************

When Hunter and the squad got close, Hunter sense something was off. He signaled for the group to halt as he went to go investigate. Hearing some slow breathing from a few sources, he approached the bush carefully and paused when he noticed four knocked out troopers tied up chaotically. Tech noticed Hunter’s hesitation and walked forward.

“What did you fin—Oh. How did four Imperial Troopers end up here? You don’t supposed they went for the Marauder and Maxis took them out?”

“Who else would have? Four troopers… they have the strength to take out four troopers by themselves?” Hunter sounded bewildered. He finally looked at Tech, “Maxis didn’t attempt to alert us and I missed it, did they?”

“No, but it could have been inconvenient at the time. However, there wouldn’t be a reason why they wouldn’t have contacted us after dealing with the situation. Perhaps something else went wrong.”

With that, Hunter signaled the rest of the crew to board the ship with caution.

Part 6 _______________________________________________________

Notes:

Psychometry/Force Echo: This is the next Jedi Fallen Order reference, also seen in 1 or 2 episodes of TCW. I based the reader's ability from the game. Fight scene choreo: Warning, video contains fighting scenes. I love MGS and specifically the CQC in MGSV. For this scene, the first disarm is a combo of the moves described in 1:08 (beginning) and 4:01 (ending). It was mainly supposed to be the second one but the arms are switched so as an artist of my craft, I must adapt. The last move is mostly just the Peter Pan jump from 5:23. I tried to describe the action as best as I could without being like "left right must left right" but here is the visual aspect of it.

#tbb x reader #tbb x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #dust in the wind #I was really excited to write this and now im scared to post it lol #crab fics

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resident-of-storybrooke · 3 years

Text

Nothing Good Happens After 2AM (Ch 4)

Rating: M (finally earning that for this chapter)

Words: 2900

Read: ao3, ff.net CH 1 CH 2 CH 3

Summary: Emma took Killian home for the holidays as a fake date. Things seemed to be going well…until it didn’t. What happens when two fools in love didn’t confess their love over the holidays like they planned and have to go back home to reality? This. This is what happened…(A twist on fake dating during the holidays)

AN: Well....shit lol here we finally are! I wish I had a good reason for the year and a half delay. Honestly, I got one not so great review and it shook me a bit and I was already iffy about writing. But thank you to so many incredible souls being so encouraging and supporting me to get back into writing. Thank you to @kmomof4 who read all four chapters and edited them (make sure to check them out). I really hope you enjoy this last part as I’m so happy to finally have this out for you all. A very late and final contribution to @csjanuaryjoy

tagging some of the fam squad (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @carpedzem @nowforruin @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @thesschesthair @teamhook @winterbaby89 @zaharadessert @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd @blowmiakisscolin @peggyswan @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @tiganasummertree @batana54 @pirateprincessofpizza

ALL THE LOVE

Ruby made her way back up to the party, excited to see how the rest of the night would play out after her phone call to Emma. As she made her way back into Killian’s apartment she saw the Nolans as they gestured rather animatedly. Then Ruby rounded the corner and looked in to see who they were yelling at.

Shit.

It was Killian.

And from the looks of it they were letting Killian have it. And he was just standing there taking it.

What the hell did he get into in the last five minutes to warrant this? Ruby was both concerned, but mostly entertained because the sweet sunshine Charmings never yelled. She strolled into the kitchen with a grin, figuring she would enjoy the show. That was until the furious couple saw her - apparently she was their new target.

“Ruby Elizabeth Lucas! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Ruby was confused to say the least. How the hell was she involved in... whatever this was?

“Um...I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Bullshit, Ruby!” She was completely taken back, Mary Margaret never swore. “You just told me that Emma thought Killian was dating Elsa. And last time I checked Killian and Emma have been together for the last three months. So please, explain yourself. Now.”

“I feel like it’s not really my place,” she said, darting her eyes toward Killian, but she could tell no one was buying it. “Listen, Snow White and Prince Charming, your poor sister felt pressured to bring a date home for the holidays. She and Killian decided to go to Ruth’s and tell y’all they were dating so you’d back the hell off. And it worked and everything was fine. Then Elsa showed up and spooked Emma because she thought she lost her chance with him. Because shocker,” she looked fiercely at Killian and had to restrain herself from smacking him upside the head, “they’re both in love with each other and are being absolutely idotic and not telling the other the truth.” She turned back toward the stunned silent Charmings, “And you two are not helping the cause!”

Killian looked up in complete shock, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hair. The Nolans stood gaping at her, obviously not expecting her brutal honesty.

“Listen,” Ruby took a deep breath. “Cut them some slack. You two were acting like Emma was going to turn into some crazy old spinster if she didn’t find a date soon. Also, you two act as though you are a literal fairytale couple.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to live up to your kind of love.”

As David stood in shock, Mary Margaret finally spoke up. “We went too far, didn’t we?” That’s when she turned to Killian. “We’re sorry, Killian. We shouldn’t have ever put you in this situation. We love you, we love Emma, and that wasn’t fair...I hope you can forgive our behavior this evening.”

Just as Killian was about to speak up, the door opened revealing an out of breath Emma Swan.

Emma was confused by the odd looks she was receiving as her welcome. She should be used to their bizarre behavior at this point, but this felt different.

As she made her way over to the group her nerves set back in. She was here to tell Killian the truth. She was going to finally confess her love for her best friend. On his birthday. What could possibly go wrong?

“Right, well, this has been fun. Perhaps we should give these two some alone time.” Ruby elbowed the couple so Emma and Killian could have a moment.

As Emma walked towards Killian she finally took in her surroundings and realized how packed the apartment was. “I wish there were less people here…”

“Why, Swan? I love large parties, they’re so intimate. At small parties-”

“-there isn’t any privacy. I like it when you quote things to me.” Looking at him, she realized how close they were. She wasn’t even aware of her own movement toward him. Then she looked into his blue eyes. She missed them.

She missed him.

They stood there, taking each other in. It’d been weeks since they’d been together, really together. Neither one knew how to start.

“Emma, you came.”

She wished in that moment she had something poetic to respond with, but that wouldn’t be Emma. “That’s what she said.”

The two instantly burst into laughter, the tension dying with every laugh.

“I missed you, Swan.” Killian reached his hand out to tuck a loose strand behind her ear, Emma leaned into his touch.

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry I ran…I wish I had a good excuse, but I don’t. I wanted to tell you so many times how I felt. I was going to tell you. On New Year's Eve. I was finally going to tell you. I had this whole plan. It was a good plan. And then Ruby fucking decided to be Chef Julia Child and give me food posioning. And then...I saw how happy you looked with Elsa and I thought, I thought, I’d lost my chance with you.” Emma finally found the courage to look up when she finished.

Killian’s eyes were full of unshed tears. When Emma opened her mouth to try and say something to break the tension Killian wrapped his arms around her. Emma finally took a breath. A breath she had been holding for weeks. He didn’t hate her.

“Emma, my love, I promise nothing happened with Elsa. She was Liam’s fiance. She’s an old friend and nothing more. You though...you’re so much more than that. I’ve been a coward. I’ve hidden behind our friendship, behind the lie we told your family, and I will not do that any longer. I’ve had three words on the tip of my tongue since the night we met, I swear, and I will not waste another minute without you hearing them.”

Emma extracted herself from his grasp. “Before you do, I have something for you.”

Killian lets out a sigh, “Really? Right now?”

Without another word Emma pulled the small red box from her clutch and handed it to Killian. He looked at her with curious eyes. “It’s your birthday, open the damn thing, Jones.”

“So demanding. Now what do we have here? It's a-”

He stopped.

Mistletoe.

It was the most infuriating object that haunted his dreams - well, besides Emma. That trip to her home, the infernal garnish was everywhere.

There was that kiss.

God, that kiss. He relieved it daily, prayed that it wasn’t the last kiss he’d ever share with Emma. Up until this moment he was convinced that would be the case.

“Well, Swan, this is quite the gift. I don’t know exactly what to say.” He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick they were both well aware of.

“I, um, do you wanna see if it works?” Killian’s eyes shot up to Emma.

“Well, love, seems only right I try it out with you since you were the one that gave me such a generous gift. Shall we...”

Emma cut him off with a bruising kiss, it caught him a little off guard, but it only took a moment for him to catch up. Killian didn’t give a damn that there was a party going on around them. He finally had Emma in his arms. Emma’s hands wandered to the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life. Killian’s hands roamed down her sides before anchoring on her hips, holding her tightly against him. He cursed the fact that Emma was wearing a dress, even if she did look bloody gorgeous in the tight red piece. He couldn’t wait to have that blasted thing on his floor.

They finally broke for air, still clinging to one another, foreheads touching. Killian was ready to dive back in when he looked up and remembered they weren’t alone. Mary Margaret was crying, Ruby was cheering, and David looked slightly annoyed but Killian saw the small smile he was trying but failing to hide.

“Come on, love. I think it’s time we faced the vultures. And I’d like you to meet Elsa, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty good idea, Captain.” Emma reached down and grabbed Killian’s hand before they walked over.

Maybe the trope board wasn't wrong after all.

CSCSCSCSCSCSCSCS

As the party went on, Killian and Emma were inseparable; the two constantly touching the other. At one point, while talking to Mary Margaret and David, Emma laid her head on Killian's shoulder, something she'd done a million times, but this time Killian placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The two were in their own happy bubble. They pretended to be engaged with those around them, but they couldn't ignore but feel the sparks ignited with each touch.

"So, Emma? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for the miscommunication. I feel as though that was my fault." Emma was confused on how Elsa seemed to be privy to their issue, but then she saw Mary Margaret across the room and assumed her friend had filled her in.

"Please, don't be. I was...scared I lost my chance with Killian."

"Oh, honey. I don't think you could ever lose this one." Killian squeezed Emma closer to prove her point.

Turns out Elsa was hilarious and had wonderfully embarrassing stories about Killian. Emma had a feeling the two were going to be good friends after tonight.

The party eventually wound down a little after one, slowly the various couples left. That's when Emma realized she was alone with Killian.

Finally.

Suddenly, Emma felt her nerves grow. They'd declared their love and haven't left the others' side since, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She absentmindedly threw out some empty cups as she tried to plan her next move.

"Love," Killian called for her from the living room, "can you come here?" Emma slowly made her way into the room as Killian stretched out his arms to embrace her.

"Emma, I...I know that tonight has been a lot. Our relationship has always been a lot. And I know the future is uncertain, but there's one thing I want you to be certain of - I will always be by your side. For as long as you'll let me, my love."

She didn't even know a tear had slipped until Killian pulled back to wipe it.

"I haven't always made things easy. I get spooked easily, but I'm tired of running. I want to be with you, Killian. I love you."

"And I you, my beautiful Swan."

The kiss started off slowly, different than the one earlier, but no less passionate. Emma brought her hands around Killian's neck, playing with the nape of his hair. As Killian kissed down her neck, Emma didn't recognize the noises that escaped her mouth.

As their kisses continued, Emma was surprised when Killian's legs hit the couch and he fell down. She hadn’t been aware that they moved. Emma said she was tired of running, and she was ready to show him. So she straddled his legs and hovered over him for just a moment.

They felt like teenagers again, making out on a couch like this. She could feel him harden beneath her, driving her wild. But, it wasn't enough, she needed more. Emma started unbuttoning his shirt, the bastard already had the top three undone. Without a second thought, she began to rake her fingers through the coarse black hair.

"I've been dying to do this since we first met. So soft," she murmured. Killian found a spot behind her ear that made her mewl. Emma brought her lips to his ear, "I've always wondered how it'd feel against my breasts."

With that, Killian pulled back. "My love, are you sure? We can wait. Because once I have you, I'm never going to let you go." Emma nodded slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she could barely see a trace of blue. His pupils were blown.

Before Emma could stand, Killian wrapped his arms around her to carry her to his bedroom. He only ran into the wall twice as Emma was no doubt leaving marks on his neck. Killian gently placed her in the middle of the bed.

"I always swore that if we got here, I would worship every inch of you."

"Killian, please, worship later. I need you now."

"Just a taste. Patience, darling." Killian was beyond thankful at that moment Emma had opted for a dress as he quickly removed her thong.

Before she could speak, he brought his mouth to her sex. "You're already drenched for me. You..fuck...you taste delicious."

Emma couldn't speak, he was overwhelming in every sense of the word. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, not that she needed to guide him; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Killian replaced his mouth with two fingers. "That's it, Emma. You look so beautiful like this. I want you to come for me, darling. Come and then I'll give you what you really want."

His voice was deeper, accent thicker. Emma had a feeling she could finish from his voice alone, but right now, it was his fingers and mouth that were going to do the trick.

Emma lost all control of her limbs as he sent her over the edge. He didn't let up though, he continued slowly licking as she came back down. As her breathing returned to normal, Killian kissed up her body.

"Worship later, Killian,” she moaned again. “Please. I need you. Now."

"So demanding, Swan,” he observed, taking his pants and boxer briefs off. “I think I like this side of you, all in a commanding voice, chills really."

He climbed back on top of her, but instead of responding, Emma hooked her legs around Killian and flipped him, so he laid on his back. He looked up in awe, he had never been so turned on than in this moment.

Emma decided she was tired of waiting, but before she could sink down Killian stopped her. "Give me a moment, let me grab something, I -"

"I'm clean, and I'm on the pill. I...I don't want anything between us."

"Gods, Emma. If you're sure? I'm good too, I haven't been with anyone since...since we met."

Emma dove down to meet his lips as she sank down onto him. Killian swallowed her gasp as she adjusted to his size. Of course, he lived up to every innuendo, and Emma couldn't be happier for that than in this moment.

For first times, they were both surprised with how easy it was to fall into rhythm with the other. There were only a few slightly awkward moments, but that didn't stop them from enjoying this moment. Emma's hips met Killian's with each thrust, quickly driving the other wild.

"So fucking glorious, Emma. You're so tight like this. Ride my cock, such a good girl. I want to feel you come around me this time. You're stunning when you come. That's...fuck... that's it Emma, take what you need, darling."

Before Emma could even respond, Killian decided it was her turn to be flipped on her back. "Now, if I remember correctly, you wanted to know how it feels with me on top."

"That's, ugh, that's not exactly what I said. But I'm not complaining."

Emma felt that familiar sensation growing in her stomach as Killian's pace intensified. "Killian, I'm close. Together, I wanna -"

"Aye, love, together."

Killian felt her tighten around him as she moaned out in ecstasy, pulling him right after her. He gave her a searing kiss as he spilled himself inside of her. Killian fell on top of her, too exhausted to worry about crushing her for a moment.

"Killian? As much as I love how, uh, close we are now, do you think you can move? I can't breathe, and I need to clean up."

"Oi, you're gonna give a man a complex!" Killian slowly rolled off her, in awe of the glow Emma radiated at the moment. Emma couldn't help but giggle as he was being an annoying ass, but mostly he was still...Killian.

They were still them. Except they just had mind-blowing sex.

She could get used to this new addition to their relationship.

"Stay here, love. Let me." Killian was back in a moment and helped clean Emma. When he finished, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just like before.

"What is it, Swan?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy. It's just so surprising."

"Aye, love, me too. But this doesn't change anything. I've loved you for years now, and we'll go at whatever pace we both see fit, but I'm in this for the long haul."

"As am I, Captain."

The two laid in bed, cuddled close, and shared lazy kisses. When Emma looked at the clock, she saw it was nearly three in the morning. A few weeks ago, Emma had thought nothing good happened after two am; it turns out she was wrong.

"Swan? Can you tell me what the bloody hell a trope board is?"

#tori finally finishes a story #nothing good happens after 2am #(formerly) another name #so close and still so far #captain swan #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #once upon a time #cs fanfics #ruby lucas #david nolan #mary margaret blanchard #elsa #part four #IT'S FINALLY DONE #THANK YOU K

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nerdified · 3 years

Text

Procedural Notes: Patient #3 (FKA Hugo Jensen)

NOTE: [At the time of this audio recording, Mr. Hugo Jensen (NKA Norville Nerdlinger) has just begun the process, and is restrained. The identity of the speaker is unknown. This transcript is reproduced here in order to assist with identification of this man, who has since disappeared, absconding with an undisclosed amount of the process agonist. Efforts to locate him have, to date, been fruitless. If anyone knows anything about this man or his whereabouts, please report the information to Central Command.]

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

Quiet, now. It’s no use struggling.

I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite.

I see that look in your eyes, like you don’t think I could hurt you. You’re probably right. I’m not much of a fighter. But I know what you think of me, and other guys like me. I’ve been listening to you on the phone, you know. Hacked your telecommunications. What was it that you called me, on that call with the client yesterday?

Oh, yes, I remember. A walking pocket protector. I’ll admit, that was a new one for me. I’ve had “pencil-neck” and “four-eyes” and the good old-fashioned “nerd” lobbed at me before, but “walking pocket-protector”… Heck, it’s got a little poetry to it!

Shh. I know, it feels strange. It’s a little unsettling, at first, I’ll agree. But you’ll get used to it. It’ll go easier for you if you just relax and quit fighting it. In time, you’ll even begin to like it.

I’m sorry about the gag. Unfortunately, it’s just the beginning of the process, so I have to leave it in for…twenty-three more minutes, at least, if my calculations are correct.

Ha! Who am I kidding – my calculations are always correct.

I can see from your eyes that you hate my guts right now. That, too, will change.

You see, what’s about to happen to you isn’t out of the ordinary, or even very noteworthy. As far as I can tell, it happens to a lot of guys, especially those that zip through their twenties and then hit that speed bump called thirty, bank accounts empty and career opportunities shot. Those of us who didn’t win the genetic lottery couldn’t get by just on our looks and our charisma, like you did.

I remember how it felt when I was in high school, and guys like you were all A+ students and perfect jocks, too… gosh, it’s enough to make me swear.

But no. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You couldn’t just be a jock, be good at sports, and leave the academics to the rest of us. We didn’t ask for much, you know. We just wanted to be left alone in our science labs, and in our tutorials, in our lives.

There's no escaping guys like you. You’re everywhere, and you’re spreading. For a time, we ignored it. Figured it was some kind of anomaly. But it wasn’t – it was a trend. And despite the fact that we didn’t see it coming, we are now prepared for its end.

Like I mentioned – it won’t surprise most people to see you change. Maybe a few of your close friends will worry about you. Express some concern. But by that point, you’ll already have accepted your new self. You’ll be able to say “This is just who I am,” and it’ll be their choice how to proceed. That’s a side benefit, by the way, of the process. You get to find out who your real friends are – and, spoiler alert: they’re not exactly big football fans.

You have to be prepared for some major shake-up in your life, though. The good thing about the process is that it won’t faze you in the slightest. Everything will be gee-whiz gosh-darn super-duper spiffy keen neat-o, if anyone asks, and for you, it will be.

Now, I know those terms are a little outdated. We’ve had to make a bit of an adjustment to the process in your case. The earlier version wasn’t quite strong enough for you, so we’ve had to over-compensate in a few directions. You won’t just be a little bit nerdy, you know, a couple of odd quirks, some new hobbies. For example, Derek – well, that’s his dead name, he goes by Derwood now – Derwood can sometimes get by in normal society. He even kept a few of his old friends. He’s just more into things like superhero movies, and he’s left behind all knowledge or passion for sports. I think I even saw him reading a comic book the other day, come to think of it.

But that’s not going to be you. Oh, sure, you might develop a taste for superhero movies, but if you do, it won’t just be a passing interest. You’ll become a rabid fan. I believe…obsessive…is the operative word, in fact. Yes, you see, that earlier version of the process would have worn off, and you’d have been back to your old self in no time, which would wreak havoc on your psyche, not to mention put our entire operation in jeopardy. We can’t have that.

It looks like some time has passed, but not quite enough for me to remove the gag yet. Do you feel your perfect white teeth shifting around in your gums, almost impatiently? Nod once for yes.

You don’t have to nod at all, not if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to confirm for me what I can already see happening in your eyes. Speaking of your eyes – how’s your vision? I can see you starting to squint every now and then. Trying to see past that blur? Don’t worry. I’ve already got your glasses, right here, for when it gets too bad for you to see. Talk about your Coke-bottle lenses - my calculations again predict that you’ll settle somewhere around…hm…negative six diopters, which is even worse than mine.

To put it simply: you won’t even be able to read the big E on the eye chart without your glasses on.

I know, you’ve never been to the optometrist in your life. You never needed to. And don’t think about getting contact lenses, either. I mean, go ahead and try, if you really want to embarrass yourself.

Oh, I can see it now: timid, nerdy little guy like you, shuffling into the doctor’s office – you say you want to get contact lenses, and they get you in the back for a fitting. They show you how to do it, you know, hold your eyelids apart and then just plop the lens on there. But you have to do it three times before they’ll let you leave with them, and you won’t even be able to get one in, because you’ll keep blinking it out. I wish I could be there to see it, honestly – you, all frustrated, trying to swear, but only able to say things like “Fudge!” and “Gosh darn it!”

It’ll be so beautiful. I’m getting teary just thinking about it.

I’m glad you’re starting to settle down a bit. Let me know when you need your glasses. Maybe while we wait, I’ll get started on your hair. That trendy fade has got to go, and so does that scruff on your face. At the start, you’ll have to shave a lot, but as the process continues, you’ll start producing more of a 5-alpha reductase enzyme. This will convert your testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, or DHT, which will actually miniaturize your follicles. Kind of like using a shrink ray on them! Oh, and there will be no taking of inhibitors, like finasteride or anything like that – our process contains a potent agonist, with an affinity of 0.25 to 0.5 nM for the human androgen receptor.

It’s all very scientific, I assure you. And with the miniaturization of your follicles, your sebaceous glands will begin to over-produce sebum, which results in – you guessed it! Acne. Pimples. Zits. I know you’ve never had to deal with that before, so I’m just preparing you for it now. Pizza-face, I think the popular nickname is. Get ready for a lot of that.

Let’s see…what else can I tell you.... Gosh, this is kind of like the orientation for a new job, isn’t it? Ah, yes. I know. Speaking of jobs...

Yeah, this is the tough part. It’s all very natural, I assure you. Just like with your friends, your co-workers will come to see you in a different way. I know you have quite a few cutthroat underlings who would eat one another alive to get your corner office, and the moment they sense you’re not as much of a threat as you used to be, they’ll swarm.

I give it two weeks, tops, until you’re gone. If you choose that road. Or you could make it much easier on yourself and resign. You won’t be financially ruined – not with all that new information surging through your brain – you’ll be an asset to the right company, the right department. Maybe IT will take you. Or accounting. Maybe you won’t work corporate. Maybe you’ll work retail.

God, that’s cruel even for me. I wouldn’t wish retail on anyone, even a jerk like you. But there’s no telling what could happen. For all I know, once the process has completed, you could end up one of those Geek Squad guys at Best Buy! Have you seen the uniform they have to wear? It’s company-mandated dress code. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? White, short-sleeve, button-down shirt. Black polyester clip-on necktie; black, pleated trousers; black lace-up shoes…and white socks. Yes, white socks, kept completely spotless and bright. All this is enforced, too, with routine inspections, to make sure you’re being compliant!

You see, there’s really an infinity of possibilities for you. If anything, this is a new chance for you – a fresh start. I know it feels scary, all this change. But change is the only constant. Everything is always in flux. Heck, every seven years, your entire body regenerates – every cell is new and different, so why shouldn’t your personality and identity change, too?

It’s logical, isn’t it? Nod once for yes.

Good! You’re starting to come around, aren’t you? Like I said, it won’t be so bad if you just accept it. If you don’t fight it. That sudden urge to position your tongue up behind your teeth when you say ess. Eth. Eth. How your voice keeps breaking, and in the most unfortunate ways, and at the most unfortunate times – all of this is being etched into your muscle memory as I speak to you.

There isn’t much longer now until I can remove your gag, and I can see that the physical alterations are beginning. Too bad all that hard work at the gym all these years is so easily eroded by our process, but then, those muscles were mostly for show, weren’t they? Well, no longer. It isn’t exactly sarcopenia, but it’s close. You’ll be at least one and a half, possibly two, standard deviations below the relevant population mean, and no amount of exercise will restore your former abilities.

Yes, the ropes are looser now, because you’re much smaller. Rapid onset muscle deterioration. You could struggle out of them. Maybe you could even escape. You could try. But there’s no way you’d make it very far without your glasses. Who would believe you, anyway? What would you even say?

Like I said, you might as well give in. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. And you’ll have me. I’ll be with you for the whole beginning process, so you can acclimate to your newly nerdy life. You won’t be able to continue living in that luxe apartment you’ve got – no, you’ll be moving into a nice little basement apartment I’ve got fixed up for you, in the suburbs outside the city. The landlords have just got it refurbished, with some nice wood paneling, and there’s a spare twin bed that should be just your size! There’s also tons of room on the walls to put up all your posters. You won’t need much room for anything else, really. You definitely won’t be needing that enormous closet of tailored, fitted button-down shirts, or all those sneakers, definitely not those expensive Under Armour boxer-briefs. What a waste. No, the new you is way more frugal with his money, seeing as he’s paid so little of it. The new you doesn’t even think that much about clothes, or fashion.

This must be a lot to handle. Maybe I should have a little mercy on you.

Tell you what. I’ll let you choose your underwear. How’s that, pal? That make you feel any better? Nod once for yes.

See, I’m not that bad. That’s right. So, here. You can choose…Hanes, or Fruit of the Loom?

Oh, I see. You thought I meant what kind of underwear. Haha, no. You’ll be wearing tighty-whities from now on. Sorry, them’s the rules. Besides, you won’t need much support…down there, if you catch my drift!

Don’t look so horrified. You won’t even notice that it’s gone. Mostly. You’ll still have some length, just, you know, not a lot. You won’t be able to call it a “cock” or a “dick” ever again, either. Oh, look how cute – you’re blushing just hearing me say it! You might call it something else, like your ding-a-ling, or your wiener.

Okay, okay, I can tell you’re getting embarrassed, you’ve gone all red and blotchy in your cheeks. We don’t have to talk about the … “no-no place” anymore, little buddy.

All right. Here’s your glasses. I’ll just set them on your nose, for you…there. Wow, they sure do make your eyes look tiny!

I can tell you’re getting near to the end of the process, and I’m curious to see how big your two front teeth have gotten. From that bump in your upper lip…gosh, it looks like you might be giving Bugs Bunny a run for his money!

You’ve really been behaving better, so I’ll bring you a mirror, okay? So you can see for yourself. I must say, it’s already quite the improvement. I wasn’t expecting your hair to turn so red, or get so curly. Maybe if you can’t get a job at Best Buy, you could run away and join the circus as a clown!

I’m just horsing around with you, pal. Don’t pass out on me. You promise not to scream? I hate it when they scream. Nod once for yes.

You’re a little excited, aren’t you? It’s okay. You can tell me. I bet you get a little more excitable than you used to. Maybe you even get a little clumsy, with the loss of all that hand-eye coordination. Trip over your own two feet and go sprawling.

But who knows. There’s so much potential.

And you’re just the beginning, too. Let’s just say that my proposal for introducing you to the process wasn’t well-received by Central. What do they know? They have this power, and they don’t use it. Well, you snooze, you lose, by golly! If you have a gift, you use it, otherwise it goes to waste.

Anyway. Enough of the supervillain speech. You don’t need to know anything more. It’ll probably be wiped out in the massive crush of nerdy trivia about Star Trek and Star Wars that’s going to download into your brain soon, anyway.

So, this is it. Are you ready to see? Nod once for yes, and I’ll pull the cloth off this mirror here.

Alrighty, dweeb, you asked for it. Here goes.

Say salutations to the new you!

[END TRANSCRIPT]

62 notes · View notes

bibislut · 4 years

Note

Hello!! I'd love love LOVE if I could get a bit of a longer fic of Loki x Female Reader. The reader is a member of the Avengers and she has it BAD for Loki. They are very close but she does not think he would ever return those feelings. She is sent on a stealth mission but it goes wrong. She ends up in a sex trafficking hustle and she is a virgin. Loki notices she doesn't come back and gets worried and he rescues her before anything bad happens.

Hi! This is a fantastic prompt, and I hope I’ve done it justice!

This was a little out of my comfort zone simply because I’ve never written much action before, but I’m pretty damn happy with the result!

Word count: 4263

Warnings: Strong language, talk of sex trafficking, talk of r*pe. Nothing sexually explicit.

You sip slowly at your coffee, letting the feeling of the hot liquid oozing down your throat ease your hunched up body.

Last night you had drunk a few too many glasses of wine, and few too little glasses of water. You trace the lines of the polished oak wood table before you, really wishing you could go back to bed. Leaning back in your chair, you take another sip as Fury's voice carries around the room.

"..simple enough for soldiers such as yourselves.." You tune him out again, the other six members of your stealth squad rigid in their seats, eyes studying the director carefully, listening silently to every word he says.

Your eyes come into focus again as a familiar silhouette appears on the other side of the glass wall. Loki walks past nonchalantly, hands stuffed into his dark wash jeans, green t-shirt clinging deliciously to his chiseled torso. It really is unfair how gorgeous he is. You watch as he goes up to the coffee machine and presses the button for a latte. Snorting into your cup, you push your thoughts out to him.

~Tosser ~

You know full well that he's only come down to the briefing floor to wind you up, with a perfectly good coffee machine on your own floor.

~ Oh absolutely, my dear ~

The silken sound of Loki's voice whispers lowly in your ear, unheard by others in the room. You watch as his large hand reaches out to wrap around the paper cup.

~ Good luck, today ~

You scowl at him as he turns around and winks at you before striding away.

~ Piss off ~

A small smile plays at his lips just before he leaves your line of vision. He was the prick who had suggested a movie marathon last night, helped you demolish half of the wine fridge and now got to stay at the Tower all day, doing fuck all. It really wasn't fair. Maybe when you got back you could have a little revenge, cover his bedroom ceiling in pictures of Thor or something, maybe hide some photos in his drawers and pillow cases. Something he couldn't quickly magic away.

You smirk. That might just work.

"Agent!" Fury's voice carries around the room and you flick your eyes over to him. He smiles sardonically. "Nice of you to join us."

"You're welcome." You smile back sweetly and his jaw twitches. "Don't worry, Director. I've already read the brief, and you said it yourself, the mission should be easy enough." The lie flows easily from your lips.

"Jesus fuck, you're as bad as Stark with that mouth of yours. It's not appreciated, Agent."

"It's part of why you keep me around."

"Uh-huh." He grunts and drops the file he was holding onto the table. "Briefing concluded. You're all to be on the jet in 30 minutes."

The soldiers around you all stand up and you clear out with them. You need a filthy helping of grease, and have just enough time to leg it to the burger van a couple blocks away.

-----

You throw the dirty napkins in the bin and wash your hands, running over the brief in your mind. The hard drive you're being sent to retrieve is in the basement of an abandoned gym in one of the poorer neighbourhoods of Atlantic City. A maximum of ten men are expected to be there, all of them with weapons, no more than six of them with military training. The hard drive contains sensitive information which the leader had won in a bet, and was now trying to sell to the highest bidder. Two of your team will take the upper level, another two on the ground floor, and the last two with you in the basement.

The most stressful thing will be dealing with Williamson's singing on the way back, an awful celebratory habit of his. Thank god he's a good soldier, otherwise you might strap him with a parachute and kick him off the jet.

-----

“Everyone off. The entry point is three blocks west.” You motion everyone off the jet with your hands before following them as you all jog through the desolate neighbourhood. You all flatten your backs against the wall of the next door building, and you creep forwards to peer ahead. A lone man stands outside the door, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looks around. Although dressed casually, you can see the handgun tucked into his waistband. You slide the silencer onto your gun and take aim.

His body falls to the ground with a soft thud and you wave to the others to follow. Williamson moves in front of you to kick the door down and you aim over his left shoulder as the two of you take down the men inside before they can shout out. Peters and Edwards push forward into the building ahead of you, and the other four follow you to the staircase on your right. Williamson and Smith take the stairs up and you wave Johnson and Willows down with you.

As you descend, the throbbing in your head returns and you rub your forehead, willing it to go away. The door in front of you is slightly ajar and you hold your hand up to stop the others as you listen closely.

“...the new lot are waiting by the docks, should be leaving in an hour or so.” A gruff voice says.

A high pitched laugh rings out. “Any of them any good?”

“As if you could afford one, Anderson.” A third man snickers.

Perfect, they’re not expecting you. You nod to the other two before pushing the door open. The men are sitting around a table, and you shoot one in the chest before the other two have even stood up. Johnson ducks as the smaller guy shoots, and you land a bullet in his throat before he can turn to you.

The rest of the room is empty, with a door on the left and right. “Johnson, Willows. You take the right, I’ll take the left.” You whisper and they nod.

You press your ear to the door on the left. It’s mostly silent, except for the clacking of computer keys. Only one guy it seems. You kick the door open, gun raised at the man behind the computer.

Time seems to slow as your finger rests on the trigger, a flicker of surprise gracing your features at the young man in front of you; spotty skin, a star trek t-shirt stained with ketchup and a poor attempt at what is probably his first mustache.

You shouldn’t hesitate, you never have before. Maybe it’s the headache, maybe it’s something else, but either way - you know you’ve fucked up as a large figure looms in your peripheral vision to your right. You barely leap out of the way before the giant of a man’s fist punches through the air where your head was. You spin to face him, back to the young guy as you shoot straight through the big guy’s head. Turning quickly back around, you lift your gun again, expecting to see the younger guy’s face.

Instead, you see the fist of a man double your size, right before it lands on your face. You fly back against the wall, gun falling from your grip. Your head spins and vision blurs as you try to lift yourself to your feet.

“Not so fast, pretty girl.” The brute’s giant hand wraps around your throat as shouts sound out around you. He drags you by your throat as you kick out, scratching at his fist, towards an open door at the back of the room. He drags you past several men as Johnson and Willows burst into the room, shooting at them. They disappear from sight as you’re dragged through the door into a dim hallway. You gasp for air, your vision growing dark as the blood is restricted to your head. Just as you black out, you feel yourself being hauled over the brute’s shoulder.

----

When you wake, your head is pounding and everything hurts. You’re cold, and everything is so bright. You squint around the room, taking in the concrete walls, the concrete floor, the fluorescent lights. Opposite you is a window of one way glass, and just in front of it, a camera on a tripod, the flashing red light indicating that it is recording. You look yourself over and realise with a jarring shiver that you’ve been stripped and given a simple white dress, your legs and shoulders exposed. As you do this a rattle sounds next to you and you gasp, clutching at your neck and feeling the metal collar wrapped around it. The back of it has a chain attached, and when you stand on shaky legs, you realise the chain is attached to the middle of the wall. You don’t bother to pull at it, knowing full well that it won’t budge.

The chain allows you to move about six feet away from the wall, but no further, definitely not close enough to kick at the tripod or touch the glass. The girl in the mirror looks awful, dark circles under her eyes and bruises around her neck, skin grey in the light. You grind your teeth, more angry than scared. Ten men! What a load of bullshit! They had at least fifteen in the building, and if Fury could get his fucking facts straight, you would’ve been more prepared!

You stop your gnashing as the door to the left of the camera clangs, the sound of several bolts being opened, before it swings open to reveal two men. The first, a tall, balding man in a suit, smiles at you coldly. The second is dressed in all black, clutching a rifle.

They stop next to the camera as the door slams shut behind them, echoing around the chamber.

“Do you know why you are here?” The first man drawls, his voice like a serpents.

You smirk at him. “You’re gonna torture me for information. Good luck with that by the way, I’ve been trained by the best. You won’t hear a peep from me.”

He snickers, covering his mouth with his hand and you try not to show your unease. “I have no use for your information, sweetheart.” He stares over at you like he can see through your dress. “No, your mind is not what I value. Your body will fetch a much higher price.”

You clench your jaw at his words, trying not to let the fear creep into you.

He steps forwards, arms behind his back as he looks you up and down. “There are many out there who would love to have one of SHIELD’s operatives in their hands. It’s a much more personal way to… take out their grievances.”

You fight the urge to step back, away from him; and instead raise your chin at him, not looking away.

He chuckles. “Look at that, such bravery. I do wonder how long that will hold out.” He turns away, walking back towards the wall before leaning nonchalantly against it. “I saw you, you know, when they brought you here. So beautiful, so vulnerable.” He licks his lips. “Such a lovely body too, what a shame we can’t hear how nicely you beg.” Your hands twitch by your sides, itching to cover yourself. “Tell me, are you a virgin?”

You still, not allowing yourself to do anything that will give away an answer, but that seems to be answer enough. He claps his hands in joy, pushing himself off the wall in excitement. “You are! Oh, how wonderful! We can double the price now.” He chortles to himself.

“Fuck you.” You spit at his feet, straining against the chain.

“Not me darling, but someone else. Soon.” He taps his hand on top of the camera. “Do you know why we record you? So that the buyers can get a taste for the product they’re buying; and you, sweetheart, are the newest in a long line of girls who have been in our special store.”

He picks up the camera and switches it off, handing it to the other man. “Don’t fret. You won’t be in here too long, we’ve already received some interest.”

The man knocks on the door and it opens again. “Toodles.” He wags his fingers at you before striding out.

The door shuts behind the two, and you hear the bolts sliding into place. They’re really not taking any chances with you, are they? You sit back against the wall, and run your hands through your hair. You have no idea how long has passed since you arrived at the original mission site, but it’s surely not more than a few hours. They had definitely drugged you in some way to get you here, but you were confident that they hadn’t… violated you. You shiver, closing your eyes and bowing your head.

You’d be found, right? Before.. Before you were bought by whatever despicable human wanted this kind of perverse thing. You had been wanting to lose your virginity for a while, but the right time never seemed to come around, and by the time it did, your mind was occupied with something , well, someone, else. You sure as hell aren’t going to go down without a fight, but the fear grips you tightly and blink away the tears. What if you don’t have a choice? What if they.. No. You’re not going to think about it.

You trust the team. You trust him. Loki. He had been your rock since you joined the team, the one you clicked with the most. His quiet wit, and his loud exclamations when you got him alone. His gorgeous smile, and the amused looks he reserved only for you when the others did something stupid. The way he had taught you how to project your thoughts to him, and no one else, a private thing between the two of you. He was your best friend. And yes, maybe you had been hoping to lose your v-card to him, but that didn’t really matter now, as long as it wasn’t some evil bastard on the other side of the glass. Fuck, if you got out of here in time, you might finally grow the balls to actually tell him how you feel. He wouldn’t reciprocate of course, but at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. The thought of Loki in a slutty priest costume swims into your head. “You have a confession?” The absurdity of it makes you smile, a small reprieve from the worry itching itself through your veins.

You allow yourself to drift off into a daydream of different members of the team in ridiculous outfits, Thor as a ballerina, Tony in a unicorn onesie, Nat as Director Fury, and soon enough drift off to sleep.

-----

You wake to the sound of scraping metal, and look up at the man in the suit as he carries in a tray of food and a glass of water. He slides it over to you, some of the water spilling over the edge of the paper cup. An apple and two slices of buttered bread lie on the tray, no plate, nothing you can use as a weapon.

“I wouldn’t usually bring a girl their food myself, but I thought I’d let you know some exciting news!” He exclaims in an exaggerated tone.

You say nothing, gulping down the water as he watches your throat move. “We’ve had a tremendous response to your tape. The top six bidders will be here tomorrow morning to see you in person.”

He smiles at you in mock kindness. “Make sure you rest up well, I imagine you’ll be quite busy tomorrow.” He laughs, heading towards the door.

You stand up quickly, holding out a hand. “Wait!” He turns back, an eyebrow raised. “Could I please use the toilet?”

He smiles coldly. “Of course, I can't have you soiled when the buyers arrive.” He gestures to someone outside the door and two men walk in, dressed just as the other guy was earlier, holding guns. “Please escort her to the lavatory.” He leaves the room and the two men look at you.

“Face the wall, palms to the wall.” The one on the right barks and you do as you’re told. You feel one of them come up behind you, moving your hair out of the way and you feel sick. The jingle of keys sounds and then you feel the neck restraint slacken. Two pairs of hands grab an arm each, and they lead you away between them, your restraint falling to the floor. Outside the door is a long hallway lined with doors, all of them shut tight. You get the distinct feeling that you are underground and struggle to keep up with the guards' long strides. When you reach the end of the hallway, it opens up into a larger room, where a woman in a white lab coat is bustling about. A young girl, perhaps 17 or 18 lies unconscious on a bed, a large gash on her head. It looks as if the doctor is stitching her up. The guards pull you around the side of a curtain to see a toilet. They let you go and push you towards it. They don’t turn away, amused looks on their faces as your skin flushes. You lift your skirt, squatting down. You try to focus on something else, utterly mortified as they watch you. You reach for the toilet roll and wipe, turning around to flush the toilet.

This is the only chance you might get. You launch yourself backwards into one of the guards, grabbing his arm and shifting your weight to throw him over your shoulder. He wacks his head on the bowl of the toilet, but you don’t stop. Hitting the other guard’s pressure points, you pull the gun from his grasp, sliding it across the room. You put one foot on the unconscious guard’s body, using the momentum to launch yourself onto the other guard, hitting him repeatedly with your elbows as he tries to pry you off. You land an especially hard blow and he stumbles, allowing you to kick off him and push him into the wall which he slides down. You skid around the curtain, the doctor shielding the unconscious girl’s body as she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Please you have to help me, how do I get out of here?!” You try not to scream the words but she just looks at you. “¿Dónde está la salida?” You say, hoping maybe she speaks spanish. The sounds of boots on concrete thunder towards the room from down the hallway and you shake her shoulders. “Please!” Again, she says nothing.

You grab a scalpel off of the tray beside her, wielding it in front of you as guards come pouring into the room. One, two, three, four, five, six. All of them aiming at you. You drop the scalpel, holding your hands up in surrender.

-----

You don’t sleep a wink all night, just staring at the wall, your back aching from the unforgiving floor. What if you’re not found in time? What if you’re sold like a slave? Images of what could happen flash through your mind and you wipe at the tears that threaten to spill over. You have to hope, you can’t give into the fear so easily.

It feels like an eternity, this waiting. Eventually, you hear voices outside. “I think you’ll find she’s much to your liking, gentleman.” The clang of the bolts sliding sounds and you push yourself back against the wall, pulling your dress as low as it will go, and yet it still won’t cover your knees. Your heart pounds in your ears as the guy in the suit walks in, followed by six other men. Your eyes lock on the second to last’s and the lights in the room flicker. Loki.

Now with short blonde hair, and wearing a cream suit; he looks almost nothing like himself. And yet you’d know those ice blue eyes anywhere, those cheekbones, those lips - usually lifted in laughter but now pressed tight together. His eyes blaze with anger as he takes you in, covered in bruises, hunched against the wall. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear it, and you look away quickly, not wanting to let your reaction give anything away.

~ Stay calm ~ You send your thoughts out to him.

~ My love, what have they done to you? ~ Your eyes dart back to his as the lights flicker again. His voice in your ear brings tears to your eyes as relief floods you. He’s never called you that before.

~ You need to keep your magic under control ~

“...bidding at 1.5, gentlemen?” The man’s voice draws you back to the room. A larger guy licks his lips at you as he raises his hand.

“Wonderful. What about 1.75? Anyone?” Loki raises his hand and you shiver.

“Excellent. Anyone have two million for one of SHIELD’s own?”

~ We have to delay them, the team is almost here ~ Loki’s voice in your ear is like silk, and makes you feel stronger just from hearing it.

You gulp as another man raises his hand. You had been trying so hard to contain your emotions , but if you’re gonna slow this down, you need to put on a show.

“Fuck you!” You spit, clambering to your feet. “I dare you, fucking try me!” You scream it, letting yourself feel the anger, breathing heavily.

The men laugh at you. “Isn’t she so feisty?” One says.

“Mmm indeed.” Another agrees and raises his hand.

“Two million, lovely. Anyone going for two and a quarter?”

You scream, throwing yourself forward until the chain pulls painfully at your throat. “Come here you bastard, and let me give you two million dollars worth.” You reach your hands out like a mad woman, clawing at the air in front of the men.

“May I?” Loki asks, stepping forwards towards you with fake curiosity.

“Oi! Who said you get to touch her?!” One of the men shouts, pulling Loki back. He spins around, towering over the guy.

“Gentlemen please, let us continue the auction.” The man says and Loki straightens his blazer, returning to the wall.

Gun shots ring out down the hall and all of them men look over to the open door. “If you’ll excuse me.” The man says, rushing from the room.

“Looks like it’s free dibs.” One of the men says, eyeing you up. You stumble backwards as you lock eyes with him, and then another man punches him.

Apparently that is all that is needed for a brawl to break out, and you back against the wall, watching as Loki drops something, nonchalantly kicking it back to you as he throws a punch. The hook pick slides across the floor and you scramble to pick it up, sliding it into the lock around your throat. You jiggle it, almost laughing in elation as it releases, and you rip it from around your throat. When you look up, four of the men lay on the floor unconscious, and Loki slams the last against the wall, smashing his head into the concrete.

He turns around, his glamour falling away to reveal his long black hair and leather suit. Tears pour down your face as he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you. “My little dove, I’m here.” He coos at you and you cry harder at the nickname he reserves for special occasions.

“I was so worried… I thought.. I thought you might not find me in time.” You sob into his chest.

“Sshh, I will always be here for you.”

“Promise me.” You let your walls down with your words, and Loki sinks to the floor with you in his lap.

“I promise, my love.”

You sniffle, pulling away from him. “Don’t call me that. You don’t mean it.”

He chuckles. “Is this really the place for confessions?”

The image of him in a slutty priest outfit flashes through your head and you give a watery laugh. “Because of the unconscious cunts on the floor?”

“I mean, partly.” He says, smoothing your hair behind your ears as you wipe your face.

“Are we safe?” You ask, knowing he can sense the energies around.

“Yes, the others are waiting just outside.”

“Then yes, it is the place for confessions. I was so scared Loki…”

“Sshh it’s okay.” He rubs the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. Because through everything I was so scared that I wouldn’t get to see you, get to tell you..” You break off, tears threatening to pour again.

“I know, little dove.” He tilts your chin up to make you look at him and strokes your hair. “I love you.” He whispers the words, and your tears spill over at the sight of his own eyes shining with tears, at hearing him say the words you had waited so long for.

“I love you too, Loki.” You hold onto him tightly, and he squeezes you, letting you cry.

After several long minutes, you pull away, wiping the snot from your face. “Sorry, I probably look disgusting.”

“Be quiet. You look as gorgeous as ever.” He stands, offering you a hand. He shrugs out of his long leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you home, pet.”

****************

Hope you enjoyed!

My fic requests are open! Please refer to this post for more info!

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fluff #loki fic request #fic requests open #mcu #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

Note

Do we have a Byakuya giving Renji marriage advice fic? I'd love to read one!

I know this is gonna seem like I can’t read the prompt, because it’s 95% Byakuya giving Rukia marriage advice, but I just honestly think Byakuya trusts Renji on this, given that Renji has worked for him for years at this point and just sort of anticipates all his needs and understands him better than really anyone, and also, Byakuya does not understand Renji at all and has no idea how his dumb jock brain works. He knows exactly how Rukia’s brain works, though.

Anyway, I am back on my Byakuya-writing-letters bullshit, please enjoy some Sunday afternoon feels. I think it should be obvious, but this takes place the night after Rukia and Renji’s wedding.

❤️ 🥂 🎊

It was late at night, but Rukia couldn’t sleep. Too much excitement, maybe, the unfamiliarity of a new house, the evening’s pleasant alcoholic haze fading into the beginnings of a hangover. It certainly couldn’t be the idea of a new life entirely, looming in front of her like an iceberg, complete with a new name and all sorts of new possibilities. Primarily, there was a new bed and a new person who slept in it with her, and she found the idea of waking him up terrifying, so she slipped out from under the blankets and crept downstairs.

She was digging around in the kitchen, wondering if Renji had gotten around to making any pickles since he moved in a month ago (there was an entire cabinet full, wonderful man!), when she remembered the note.

Rukia had briefly flipped through the envelopes of wedding money they had received earlier. The one from her brother bulged, and when she opened it up, the bills inside were large. Renji got nervous in the presence of large sums of money and she suspected he would attempt to give it back, so put it away quickly to deal with later, but not before she noticed a sheet of paper tucked inside among the bills. It had only her name on it, in her brother’s finest handwriting.

After retrieving the note, she settled on the couch (which had been Renji’s but was now theirs because that’s how this worked) with the jar of pickles tucked beside her (the pickles were hers because they were the spicy kind Renji made specially for her even though he couldn’t eat them himself).

My beloved sister, the note opened.

It is my impression that one of the important roles of an older brother is to go before one’s younger siblings, to chart the unknown terrain of life, and to act as guide and mentor. My own marriage was characterized by deep love and joy in the face of hardship, and I hope that yours will contain all of its happiness and none of its heartache. Unfortunately, I regret to inform you, I have no idea how I did it.

When our lots were first cast together, as you know, I declined to form a close relationship with you. This was a mistake on my part, born of the fear that you would remind me too much of Hisana. Later on, to my horror, I found the truth to be far worse-- although you do share some of your sister’s fine qualities, in personality, you bear a much greater resemblance to myself.

That being the case, I imagine that by the time you find this note, you will have tied yourself up into knots over whether or not you ‘deserve this’ or if you can ever be a satisfactory partner. We are very fine Kuchiki, you and I, Rukia. We are strong of body and of will. We are dignified in all we do. We devote ourselves to our duties before our else. Our hearts are strong and love strongly, but we hold them close, as we must. Our family is our pride, which, paradoxically, makes it nearly impossible to share ourselves with those we hold closest.

Your sister Hisana was an exceedingly stubborn person, who formed her own opinions of me, which may or may not have had any grounding in reality. She frequently told me that I was ‘kind’ and ��thoughtful’ and ‘sweet’ and a variety of other adjectives that no other thinking person would dare to apply to me. It is very difficult to live with such a person for long before you find yourself trying to live up to their misguided delusions.

As it happens, this is among the distressing number of personality traits my adjutant shares with my late wife. His optimism is endless, his vision is permanently rose-tinted, even when he insists upon wearing those horrendous goggles. Any yet, time and again, I have seen him bring out the best qualities in the horrible ne’er-do-wells under our mutual command. Indeed, if I have ever been a good brother to you, it is mostly due to his belief that I could be so. It is a verifiable fact that you are one of the best best souls in all of Soul Society, one would think it would be unimaginable to inflate your worth beyond its actual measure, and yet, somewhere, he manages that, as well.

How is one supposed to live up to these sorts of expectations from the person they love most of all? It is impossible. At least in my case, Hisana was quite aware that I am a pompous buffoon, whereas Abarai fully believes the sun rises and sets for your personal benefit. I am going to tell you something that may be difficult to hear: you have to simply deal with it. He is never going to stop. If you are truly as like to me as I suspect, you will rebel against this, your brain constantly trying to sabotage your happiness.

The fact of the matter is, Rukia, these feelings of inadequacy spring from the very fact that you hold him so dearly that your own estimation of him is also blown out of proportion. Do not misinterpret me. I am very fond of Abarai, but he is a mess. A disaster. You have probably never seen his filing system, but it would give you the vapors. (I do suggest that you take responsibility over that aspect of your household management.) Again, I sympathize. He is actually not nearly so bad as your sister, whom I once watched deface a centerpiece at a very fancy benefit dinner (the end result was extremely offensive and also very humorous). In my mind, she is still the most perfect person I have ever met.

Perhaps I am mistaken. Perhaps you are plagued with none of the insecurities that troubled the early days of my marriage, and that I was only able to come to terms with once it became evident that our time together would be finite. I desperately hope this is the case, and if so, please do me the courtesy of destroying this letter, and forgetting all of this.

In either case, I wish you the utmost happiness with your horrible husband.

Your affectionate brother,

Byakuya

Rukia’s fingers clenched on the edges of the paper. The edges of her eyes were burning. How dare he do this to her, after all these years? How many times had they crossed paths in the gardens in the hours when they should have been sleeping? Since when did they need to say things in order to show how well they understood each other? Rukia had half a mind to march over there right now and punch him in his perfect face. He was most likely sitting out next to the koi pond this very minute.

“Thinkin’ of skippin’ out on me already?” a sleepy voice asked behind her, and Rukia jumped nearly a foot in the air.

“What? No!” Rukia rubbed at her hair and frowned apologetically at Renji, who seemed more interested in yawning. "I was thinking too loud and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Nah, my skull is too thick, I can’t even hear my own thoughts most of the time.” Renji leaned over the back of the couch, and Rukia guiltily folded her note in half. “Letter from Captain?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rukia excused. “Sorry. It was kinda personal.”

“I understand. I got one, too. It was less personal.”

A piece of paper dropped in her lap and as she was busy unfolded it, Renji grabbed her jar of pickles.

“Hey, that’s mine!” she protested.

“You don’t gotta tell me what your brother wrote to you,” Renji yawned, tucking the pickles under his arm. “But I think you should probably listen to him. He knows what’s he’s on about.”

Rukia looked at the piece of Squad Six letterhead in her hands. In precise, businesslike handwriting, it read:

To: Abarai Renji, Assistant Captain, Sixth Division

From: Kuchiki Byakuya, Captain Sixth Division

Re: My sister/Your pending wife

Lieutenant Abarai,

Please be aware that Rukia is prone to poor decisions when she has insomnia and it is in your best interest to prevent her from consuming excessively spicy and/or vinegared goods past a respectable bedtime.

Sincerely,

Captain Kuchiki

“Rat fink!” Rukia exclaimed.

“Come back to bed,” Renji implored, pressing a kiss into her hair. “I know some good ways to make your brain shut up.”

“Okay,” Rukia agreed grumpily. “I’m eating those pickles for breakfast, though.”

“I’m makin’ pancakes, but suit yourself.”

Rukia decided that maybe it was best to try and get some rest. She had a big rest-of-her-life coming up the next day.

#my writing #byakuya kuchiki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #renruki #byakuya feels are the worst feels #but pining-for-his-dead-wife byakuya is the best byakuya #the paradox of byakuya

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ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Note

Would you mind giving a description of the type of character sander is pls? I can't get a handle on him. At times he was inconsistent in s3(this is partially bc of the writing and partially) bc he was trying to conceal parts of himself from Robbe and exaggerating his personality to impress Robbe. The source material was a huge crutch in parts of this storytelling, then sobbe lost some spark in parts of wtfockdown, fanon help fill the empty spaces and now the transmedia is evolving him too. Help?

I’m gonna try to help you, anon but I guess what I’m gonna say is basically my opinion and so it might differ from what’s canon or what other people think of him and also gonna link you to some prior posts I already made talking a little bit of him:

- Sander’s similarities with Eliott about how sometimes they struggle to deal with emotions

- Sander and his parents, his home life and his relationship with them

- Why was Sander going back and forth with Britt

Now onto your real answer:

I think Sander, as a character, is a solid one. He as a human being in some universe is imperfect, has his flaws and maybe his bad judgment at times, of situations and of people.

Is not because he’s a fictional character that he needs to be perfect, to always say and do the right thing.

If WTFock did him (and Robbe) dirty was mainly because of their complete lack of understanding of what pacing is. I don’t think season 3 was that badly written. It does has some horrible pacing at times, yes (OHN being on a Monday can only be a joke!!!!).

I don’t think he was purposefully exaggerating his personality. I’m sure the Sander we now know isn’t exactly as loud and out there as we saw during the supermarket clip, for example. But he was freaking out, and being obnoxious without meaning to.

To me, it felt like was mostly freaking out, not sure what to do with himself because the boy he saw once during a random night was there, all alone with him, accepting to go out to go grocery shopping.

That’s just an example but it’s the same behavior I see when he says they won after he shot Britt during the paintball scene, when he sings Bowie to Robbe while they see the girls walking away after the Noor x Robbe fight, or when he goes to Robbe’s place the next day and tries to kiss him. All this moments, to me, feel like a boy that doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to behave when he’s around someone he’s falling so deeply and hard for.

We often see the Evens as these cool creatures, confident, sweet, chill. But we have to remember that’s just the first impression (and from their Isaks’ POV), and after they get to know each other, the Evens are often shy, insecure, kind of lone wolves to some degree.

So what I thought could be seen as “inconsistent” of Sander was just him probably freaking out he was spending time with Robbe, the boy that the moon was shining on him and that Sander knew was the one.

That’s why I assume putting “original” characters after two seasons feels a little bit like crutches (with their background stories) because if you think about it, we always know most of the characters in Skam since season 1, so even when they’re not main characters, we got to know them in the background at least, to get some information throughout the other seasons.

We feel more connected to Robbe (and every Isak), and his background story because we’ve been hearing about it for two seasons.

We know he has a messy house situation, we know his relationship with Jens is kinda platonic but also very brother like (with slaps, saying rude things to each other, etc), we know some people think he’s gay, we know he’s a caring friend because of the way he was with Jana during her season. All this information we got before his season. So when he was main, there was no need to build background around him because we already had most of these informations before.

Sander is a complete stranger to us. And WTFock even gave us two episodes of just Robbe, to get to know him even more but also leaving less time for us to connect with Sander. So what we got of him was mostly WITH Robbe and ABOUT his feelings for Robbe. We know where he studies because Noor told this in ONE line.

The fandom often falls deeply in love with Even because of what we see through their lovers eyes and for how soft, caring, and representative he is (with being bipolar and pan) but I feel like we get more of who he is and his background in Sana’s season. We learn more about his past, his friends, his MI, his beliefs or curiosity about faith, etc.

Even if we barely see him with the balloon squad, watching them we see the type of people Even (or Sander) would like to be surrounded with.

I know people are not the biggest fans of Sobbe during WTFockdown, but I said this before, and I’ll say it again: I think I love them even more after. Even the cybersex part because I thought it was cute, the way Sander was saying he shouldn’t have pushed Robbe into doing it the past week, or how they look at each other and the things they say and how clearly they’re still trying to find the middle ground both of them are willing to experiment with.

Anyway, I thought it was cute, and I thought it was necessary, with the conversations about the attack (WTFock made a horrible writing decision not letting this happen during the season, but at least they gave us something), about Robbe’s traumas that are still very much alive, about his mom and how well she’s doing most of the time, how Robbe is still trying to help her in any way he can. And also about boundaries, about Robbe, that same boy that was calling Sander the F word is now so out and proud, asking Milan about cybersex, talking to his friends about it (because he did tell the boys what they did or Aaron wouldn’t be trying to have cybersex with Amber and the boys wouldn’t be taking their clothes off for Sander’s bday).

I think WTFock would use Sobbe for as much content as they can because they know that’s their golden couple. The Willems have a unique chemistry that’s out of this world, they’re both amazing actors and WTFock knows they’re solid, that the fandom will watch, engage in whatever these characters are involved in and that they boys will deliver every time, no matter how odd the circumstances are. The WTFock team knows they can give these boys a few lines and let they create a scene out of it and it’ll still be good content.

After this long ass post I’ll have to tell you that Sander is:

Mostly private, reserved, some would say shy but I think he just saves himself the energy and the trouble so he only really engages with who he really wants. In this case, Robbe, and the people that are important to Robbe because, again, Robbe is the most important person. I really think (and hope) that when Sander keeps saying “it’s you and me, always”, he really means it. Like they’re one, a solid team that works so well together to tackle any and everything.

A natural flirt. I mean, look at him, you know? And he doesn’t even have to try. And when he tries, it’s over for anyone else because he’ll be eating a marshmallow in that way he did with Britt, he’ll be kissing his girl like he wishes he could be kissing Robbe, he’ll be licking your ear, and dragging you out of a bar, purring please say at yours like no fucking other.

He’s a full on artist. He loves any type of art, he loves talking about art, he loves doing art, painting, drawing, taking pictures, listening to music, thinking about all the intense colors. I’m sure he’s a very visual person in his brain too. If you ask him about how he’s feeling, it’ll be probably easier to draw what he fells than write.

Again, nobody likes talking about this but Sander is a horny one. And he knows how to tease with the stepping back before Robbe can kiss him, he knows what to say, how to look at you with those shiny lips, wetting his lips with his tongue all the time, asking to have cybersex. And I’m also sure he’s really good at sex and enjoys it so very much.

When you’re not Robbe, and when you’re not involved with Robbe, when Robbe doesn’t care about you, Sander can be hard like a brick. He’ll scream at you with no shame if you get under his skin because he really doesn’t care. He’s finally fully happy, with the guy he thinks is the one and he doesn’t want to spend a second of his energy with you so he won’t even try.

I think he has a really small filter from what he thinks and what he says. Like when he says Robbe can bribe the teacher, or when firts with Robbe while Britt is taking a shower, or when he says they need to put some better music instead of making out with his boyfriend during the last episode.

His “all the way or no way” line is basically words he lives by and he’s also a taurus, like myself, so he really means those words with any aspect of his life.

He forgave Robbe so easily after the F word scene because 1) he’s a teenagers, he won’t be thinking as hard as the fandom did about it 2) again, it’s Robbe and he can get away with anything because Sander is completely gone for this boy that he won’t be able to stay mad even when he knows he should because he wants to be with Robbe, that’s it.

He and Robbe are very close, not only as boyfriends, I feel like right now, after everything that happened between Robbe and the boys and Sander with Britt (and probably the ballon squad) they’re very picky with trying to start new relationships, and they know they’re solid with each other, they have similar taste and opinions. Robbe softens Sander’s edges a little bit and Sander makes Robbe a little more confident in being himself, picking himself first.

I hope this very long, ridiculous answer helps you a little bit, anon, don’t mind me getting carried away talking about characters I love :’D

#wtfock #sander driesen

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The marriage pact - Island folk

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 6 | Part 7 Island folk | Part 8 >

Disclaimer: mention of late motherhood worries

Author’s note: This story is just so much fun to write. I set a scene and *BOOM* it just kind of writes itself. Now, I don’t know how long this writing craze will continue, but so far you can expect an update every day. You read that right; every day!

Word count: 1.525

(Link to my Masterlist)

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

Dark are the abysses of my heart sometimes, and I know that keeping those thoughts under lock and key only make things worse. And so, for the first time on this blog, I’d like to share something really, truly personal with you. A little snippet of my thoughts for a tender of your time, I’d like to come clean about my most recent Google search which I did late last night, after hours of laying awake.

Late motherhood.

Why? You may wonder. Well, with my relationships continuously failing and the years - and candles - slowly adding up to my birthday cakes, I feel the increasing unease in my heart whenever I come to think of having a family of my own. Will it happen? And if so, am I not too late already? All my friends and family members had their first children in their late 20s, yet here I am, the oddball, single Pringling through life at 37.

It was about 3 AM late last night when I found myself quelling my nerves by looking at pictures of older female celebrities having kids at the “ripe old age of 35”, which in my book is still super young, but of course we are looking at Hollywood standards here. And, to be quite frank, I’m not sure if it helped me, but at least it did offer me the slightest sliver of hope as I found that I’ll probably just need a little luck, good preparation..and perhaps a donor, to make my wishes come true.

Research is required.

But, let’s not get carried away just yet. I know what I want, now all I need to give myself is time. Time to listen to my heart and learn if this is truly it, time to investigate my options a little more and time to sleep. Because honestly, Google is one hell of a click-through trap when you can’t sleep - I may or may not have ended up falling asleep to videos of laughing foxes, which are truly..the cutest. In case you want to look it up and dare to delve into the time consuming trap that is watching random Youtube videos, then search for: “Finnegan fox”.

Hi-la-ri-ous.

Also; apparently chocolate cakes have internet access. So, aherm, hello and welcome to my little writing den, oh mysterious chocolate cake of mine!

A very sleepy, but glad to have this off her chest,

Ali

The waves broke softly onto the shoreline as the wind tugged gently on my hair, my pen scribbling away on the paper notebook on my lap. For some odd reason I found it much more comfortable to write by hand, and so whenever the mood struck and I found the time, I snuck out to my little beach hide-out and started to write. This time it was for work, but sometimes I also worked on smaller fictional stories, the very act of writing calming my nerves considerably.

I looked up when I heard the sound of slushing feet through the fine sand, the distinct vibrations telling me someone was approaching me with slow, dragging feet. And.. it appeared to be not just anyone.

Henry.

So very suddenly I felt terrible about posting that blog this morning. Had he read it? Would he start a conversation about it? I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to have that conversation with him right now. We were at best just dating, our newly rekindled friendship slash relationship only a few days young.

He stifled a yawn as he plopped down beside me on the picnic blanket, his eyes sporting large dark circles beneath them, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked me over. I sniffled, shaking my head at the fact that we both had barely slept - obviously.

‘Mornin’.’ He grumbled, a gentle smile reaching his lips, his body leaning forward, but halting mid-morning kiss. Almost automatically I closed the distance, my hand moving aside my notebook so I could lean in, lips brushing over his, which apparently was just what he needed, his lips curling up in a full smile. ‘Hi.’ I whispered into his lips, then leaned back, tucking some rogue curl behind his ear before studying him better. Once more he wore a blue shirt - he had a gazillion of those, didn’t he? - and some dark jeans, his hair fresh and messy straight out of bed.

’So…no sleep then?’ I inquired, watching him as he slowly moved his gaze towards the rolling waves before us. ‘Nope.’ ‘How come?’ ‘Hmm..’ He thought aloud. ‘..I suppose it is difficult to just stop my life right dead in its tracks.’ He sighed.

‘What’s up Hen?’ I scooted closer to him, fingering a hand through his curls, his eyes closing as he revelled into the simpleness of my touch.

‘I have to fly back to London for the weekend. There’s this event that my manager can’t seem to cancel without serious repercussions and..’ He sighed again. ‘You don’t want to go.’ ‘Not really no. But I will have to. The fox videos helped by the way.’

My heart summersaulted at his words - not only because he apparently read my blog, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but also because he was showing so much vulnerability. This large bear of a man was being honest about the things that frustrated him, something I had never experienced with previous partners. They’d always just burst out in flames all of a sudden, without giving me any fair warning before hand.

‘Hmm..’ I hummed, thinking. His eyes were still staring out to the sea, soft waves cascading in similar shades to his cerulean irises. He truly seemed to be a bit done with it all.

‘I’ve got some swimming pig videos at the ready too.’ I added, laying my head onto his shoulder and wrapping both my arms around his large chest, wishing to comfort him a little. ‘Hehe..swimming pigs.’ He chuckled, his chest vibrating with near silent mirth. ’Yea..can you imagine? Those tiny, tiny legs kicking through aquamarine water, their noses sticking out the water like living, breathing, skin coloured electricity points. Oink oink!’

Henry’s chuckle turned into rumbling laughter, his shoulders shaking until he finally looked back at me, my head still resting on his shoulder. ‘Ali..I ..eh..know this is maybe a bit weird, but, would you perhaps like to join me? To London? Leaving Friday night, back Sunday morning?’

I sat up, my brown eyes staring into his deep blues. Tender, hopeful blues. ‘Hmm.’ I hummed, blinking for a moment as I mulled over his words.

‘I know it’s all going fast and I don’t want to pressure you.’ He added.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s ehm..okay. Yea, sure, I’ll come. I haven’t been to London in ages and don’t have weekend plans anyways.’

‘Ages?’ ‘Naa..okay..maybe not ages. More like months.’ I snorted. We both laughed until finally my eyebrow quirked up. ‘So..what kind of event are you ..or we..going to?’ Henry smiled, leaning in to kiss me, the sound of my fluttering heart drowning out all else around us.

The answer to my question didn’t matter, I was simply very happy that I could join him and finally get a sneak peek of his usual life. Henry’s life.

—

‘I’m still amazed at the fact that you managed to pack all your things in that one backpack.’ Henry grinned, pushing my backpack in the overhead storage locker in First Class. I grinned in turn, shrugging my shoulders as I sat back in my seat. ‘Oh you know. I don’t mock about. No need to bring the unnecessary.’

‘You’d make for a fine traveller.’ He admitted, plopping down in his seat, right next to me, his hand quite instantaneously interlacing with mine - he didn’t even seem to think about it -, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he watched two business men enter, taking their seats a few rows ahead, leaving us plenty of privacy.

Slowly, he cast me a curious glance. ‘What is it, dear?’ He asked, noticing my studious look, his smile growing and his blue eyes sparkling.

‘Mmm..just wondering. You probably thought about this far better than I have thus far. But if you’d start a family..how would that..go? Like..-‘ ‘The travelling and stuff?’ ‘Yea.’

Henry leaned into the headrest, his head tilting up slightly as he licked his lips. ‘It’s going to take some back-and-forthing with my partner. And it won’t be easy. It will not only be my children that will give you broken nights, you see.’ He grinned and my heart fluttered at his words - children! -, yet my mouth remained sealed, waiting for him to continue. He sighed. ‘I..would definitely slow down my career. For the longest time I didn’t even think of that as a possibility. But like you wrote quite perfectly; all my friends and family members had their children young and here I am..the oddball. I know I should not press my luck by demanding my partner to give up everything for me. That is just not fair.’

‘Give and take.’ I added.

‘Yes, give and take.’ He smiled at me, his large warm hand squeezing mine gently. It felt nice. ‘Okay..so another question. You live in London right?’ ‘Mostly, yes.’ He nodded, making me grin. ‘Yea yea..Superman has several mansions and a jet setting career that makes you quiver right back into your 2-bedroom flat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘But all joking aside..why did you chose to stay with your parents, now you requested a “time-out”?’

Henry shifted in his seat, his smiling face turning to one holding a more serious expression. ‘I’m from the island baby. And I will always, ALWAYS return to the island. It is my one true home after all.’

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#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x author #henry cavill x OC #henry cavill fluff #jetset #lifestyle #beach #jersey islands #london #motherhood #family planning #romcom #the marriage pact #island folk

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a-second-chance-su-au · 4 years

Note

How did you decide which episodes would be impacted and had scenes that were significant enough to include? I’m working on a canon divergent fanfic for another series that’s pretty much just the story with one more character. I want to know how necessary these things would be.

That is an excellent question!

I am on mobile and don’t have a page splitter at the moment, so WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD.

When rewriting canon, I like to stick to 5 hard-and-fast rules, being: 1) know your character’s arc before going in, 2) know the episode’s overall message, 3) don’t take away from other characters, 4) adding original content must be done as-needed, and 5) DON’T BE AFRAID TO CHANGE THE WHOLE STORY. This can either be exceedingly easy or extremely hard.

1) Know your character’s arc before going in. This one seems obvious, but it can be very easy to get distracted. What would happen if this character was present for this scene? What if she/he/they followed this character around? Stuff like that. The whole thing on this particular blog with Spinel being present for the climax of Maximum Capacity is certainly tempting, and fun to think about, but does it do anything for Spinel’s arc in this AU? In my case, no. So she will not be present. You want to make sure you have some kind of roadmap either on paper or in your head of when and where things should happen, keeping in mind that character’s relationships, mental space, and goals. If Spinel wanted to fuse with Amethyst, she’d have to do it when the two have a good relationship, and something like that takes time to develop. She cannot fuse with Ames in the beginning of the series, absolutely not, but she will later on. Knowing facts like that on when things can and/or SHOULD happen is essential. So episodes like “Giant Woman,” “Horror Club,” “Crack the Whip,” or “Keystone Motel” will not be included in the list.

2) Know the episode’s overall message, and who is in the spotlight. You’d think that on a show like SU, that’d be easy, but often, it can be hard to pinpoint exactly who we should be focusing on. Fun fact: it usually isn’t Steven, which is why when Steven lets us into his head a little, it’s always such a huge, emotional bomb drop. I will keep using Maximum Capacity as an example. That episode was focused on Greg’s and Amethyst’s relationship with each other, their past friendship, and how each of them handles the stress of the past differently. Amethyst wants to loose herself in “Little Butler,” but Greg wants to do other things, too, causing them to come to a crossroads. It’s a coming-to-terms story for the both of them, and with this AU, I don’t want to disturb that. “Giant Woman” was about Amethyst and Pearl. “Joyride” was about Steven. “Keystone Motel” was about Ruby and Sapphire. “Steven the Sword-Fighter” is an example that can be shifted, because the purpose of that ep was to teach the viewer about poofing. It was less about Pearl and more about Gems in general, making it okay to try and change a few things around (so long as the poofing of... a gem still happens). Knowing when an episode is about a character, a relationship, or world building is really important, and helps to try and decide which to alter.

3) Do not take away from the other characters. Know their arcs, too, and why certain choices were important. Example being “Crack the Whip,” where Amethyst hits her lowest low and her quest to be stronger begins. That one, if you want to change it, you can, but if it were me, I would leave in Amethyst getting poofed and Jasper getting defeated without her, as it begins a huge moment for her character. By changing up that scene, she doesn’t have the chance to confide in Steven, they don’t fight, she doesn’t hit her lowest low (which all or most characters need to hit at some point), and then Smokey Quartz cannot exist. They exist because she trusted Steven and the two of them felt equal to each other, and trusting, and loving. THAT allowed them to fuse, and if “Crack the Whip” never happened or was altered too much, that all that goes out the window. So I am not going to have Spinel grab Amethyst and pull her out of the way or anything, or have her fuse to beat Jasper, because that undermines the whole point. However, I CAN say that Amethyst’s arc affects Spinel’s. Not saying this is canon, as this is just an example, but maybe Spinel becomes more attached to Amethyst after that, trying to protect her from being poofed again because she feels guilty for not being there to stop it. Then that affects Amethyst, makes her feel like Spinel is her bodyguard, which Amethyst doesn’t want and feels she doesn’t need. It’d serve to make her angrier, and could lead to she and Spinel getting into an argument or a fight. In this scenario, would I replace “Steven vs Amethyst” with “Spinel vs Amethyst”? No. But something similar COULD happen. It’s all about where you want to go, and what works best for these characters.

4) Adding original content must be done as needed, not whenever you feel like it. Does this mean do it sparingly? Depends on the story you want to tell. For me and my AU, that means I need to pay attention to Spinel’s arc and when she needs to learn/do things. Take “Man of the Mountain” for example. It takes place directly after “Bubble Buddies,” and is the result of Spinel being jealous of Connie eating up Steven’s time and friendship. So, she seeks to strengthen their bond as reassurance to herself that Connie is an inconvenience at worst, and at best, she’ll fade away eventually. She and Steven are still best friends, and she’s gonna prove it, darn it! Then the events of that episode may or may not affect what happens next, or later down the line. For this AU, Season 1 is mostly going to build things that are yet to come, and the episodes don’t directly feed into each other, meaning I am using original content sparingly. 5 originals compared to 52 actual episodes? I think I did good on that front. xD But, don’t be afraid to add an episode for an information dump, or to come to a conclusion. That can’t be the only thing IN the episode, of course, but if that’s the pure reason the episode exists, then fine. Do it. Whatever makes your story flow and make sense. But by making every other episode about Spinel, suddenly it’s only about her and not the other characters. Might as well rename the show at that point. The other characters get the spotlight they need/deserve, with Spinel getting her time to shine as well.

5) DON’T BE AFRAID TO CHANGE THE WHOLE STORY. This is one I’m struggling with, but I feel it worthy to mention anyway. If your character is psychic, then have them use their powers when it’s a good character choice and makes sense logically. If that throws off the entire tale, then roll with it. Get stuff back on track. Or maybe you need to take out that character for a bit. Formulate a way to do that. But if your character had a chance to shoot a blow dart at the main villain and take them out, perfect for capturing them and dismantling their army, wouldn’t they take it? If not, there had better be a good, in-character choice. Maybe the villain’s entire plan changes to account for the character’s psychic powers, creating a decoy or sending out a squad to trap/kill them specifically. If it’s in-character and it makes sense, heckin’ DO IT. Get creative! Get weird! Stories write themselves; you just need a beginning and a good grasp on the characters. Then the characters will take your story and run with it. Your job then becomes keeping up. I wish I was joking. I’ve had characters completely derail my stories before because they just couldn’t make that one character choice that was the lynchpin for the whole next scene, and it made me mad, and no I’m not mad about it two years later! You have the map, they steer the ship. You just gotta trust them.

This version of Spinel was left alone for 625 years, then cast away like a worthless toy. She’s been through war, lost almost all her friends, and had her #1 idol taken away and replaced with a smaller, weaker, half-human male version of her. She’s been through the ringer on emotions, and although she values herself as a friend first and foremost, that doesn’t mean I- and by extension, the other characters- can’t challenge that point of view. Make the character struggle. Know how they interact with others. How do certain events change them? Will they change every episode, or only some? Which are important to their arc? And most importantly, what is the point? By changing this thing here, what are you doing for that/those characters and/or the story? Is it a quick, harmless, funny moment, or is it to show a darker side to a character we’re familiar with, and to see them change now that there’s a new presence beside them? These are questions only you can answer as you chose which episodes to pick.

I hope any part of this was helpful. Feel free to ignore any of these points, or add your own. Again, every story is different, and each story should be treated as such. No creator is experienced equally, and we all have different interpretations of characters. Nothing is right or wrong, so long as you, the author, can justify it, even if it’s just “I thought it’d be cool.” It’s your AU. Go for it!

Thanks for listening to me ramble. Scene.

#advise #writing tips #au tips #canon divergent au #canon divergence #dimond speaks #don’t think that I’m an expert because I’m really not #I’m 17 and a huge nerd who writes too much #I just love these characters and I want to respect their arcs and what the Crew had in store for them #this isn’t fix-it fanfiction either #although in Lapis’ case I guess it is?#but that’s a one time thing and it makes sense here #or maybe I’m just biased. Who knows.#But anyway. Not every episode will be completely rewritten.#Bubble Buddies is still about Connie and Steven meeting her #that episode is just where Spinel’s arc really begins BECAUSE of Connie #and no this has nothing to do with shippin #if anyone has any questions feel free to ask me #steven universe #spinel #crystal gem spinel #su au #a second chance au #dimonds456 #long post #mushroomfusion245 #asks #answered asks #dimonds speaks

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mhdiaries · 4 years

Photo

Wave 3 Operetta Diary

July the Twenty-fifth

Hey Fynn! I’m going to keep a diary. I’ll send it to you when school starts and you can read about my adventures...if I have any. I sure wish you’d join the modern monster world and get yourself a computer or at least an iCoffin so we could exchange email or texts. Having to send everything by ghost post seems like it takes forever, not that we don’t have it, but you get my drift. Anyway, the morning after the going away party y’all threw for us - which was clean outta fright - we caught a scream boat and headed up river to the “home of the boos”. I talked daddy and mama into lettin’ me go see the ghost of “you know who”. Daddy kinda rolled his eyes and said okay - betcha if it was a bunch of them old opera harpies all wearing helmets with horns sticking out he’d a jumped up and clicked his heels. At least he didn’t say no and I could smell the fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches before I got there. Turns out there was a jam session and I hadn’t seen that many singers and players gathered in one spot since the day the music died. They even let me sit in with them on a set. I had to promise not to sing though. Must’ve heard what happened down in Terrorbone Parish I reckon. During the jam I used that new lick you taught me and even that big ol’ werewolf guitar player you like so much howled and said, “Oh Red, I’m gonna be singing the blues if you don’t teach me that.” I told him I could show him but I couldn’t teach him. For that he needed to come find you. I was sad to leave but daddy wanted to head east so he could go check out some old opera house that was supposed to be grand. Turns out I enjoyed it more that he did since they weren’t exactly performing the kind of music he expected :)

July the Twenty-seventh

How did we get to the new opera house? Well there’s this underground train that somehow connects to the catacombs below Monster High. That’s where the opera house is, not in Monster High but under it. I actually met a group of ghouls from Monster High at one of the stations while we were waiting to change trains. They were all on the MH Fear Squad and were headed to some kind of competition or training or something. I didn’t really understand it all but they all seemed very nice although the captain of the team was a bit high and mighty for my taste. Got to go now, sorry so short.

August the First

We have mostly settled in although we still got some unpacking left to do. My guitars all made the trip just fine too. I was worried but I guess I shouldn’t have been. Those cases you gave me protected everything just like you said they would. The opera house is in pretty ghoul shape although there hasn’t been a production done here in many years. I reckon that’s why we’re here, well at least why daddy and mama are here. It’s a whole bunch different from the riverboat opera house though. This one has a big ole pipe organ that sounds like a whole fleet of riverboats coming down the “big muddy”. Of course the first thing daddy did was hop on that thing and play Toccata and Fugue in D minor...who didn’t see that coming? Later on I lugged my amp out to the middle of stage, plugged her in and played a little riff that lasted long enough for daddy to come running in and tell me to stop polluting his opera house with “that noise”. Whatever. I didn’t feel like arguing although I did finally quote that thing you quoted to me - “There’s only two kinds of music. Good music and the other kind.” To which daddy said, “Yes and I would have you play the other kind somewhere else.” Reckon I should have seen that coming too. I’m sure in no time though daddy will have this place snoring with “good music”. ;p

August the Seventh

I explored the catacombs a little more today. A ghoul could seriously get lost down there if she wasn’t paying attention. It’s like there’s a passages that go every which a way. Some just dead end and others seem like they go on forever. Some of the things I discovered are:

- An underground lake with a big island in the middle that has an old castle on it

- A passage that leads from the zombie side of town straight up to Monster High

- Lots of rooms and halls blocked by doors that you need some kind of key to get past.

I also found, or I guess I should say Memphis found, my new practice room/recording studio! I would have totally missed it because it just looked like a crack in the wall to me but Memphis must have sensed something though ‘cause he shimmied through that crack quick as a gnat’s sneeze. Before I knew it, a section of what had just looked like part of the catacombs wall swung open like a door and there was Memphis hanging upside down by a thread with a big fly-eatin’ grin on his face. The walls inside were covered by some kind of moss, not like the stuff that hangs off the cypress trees back home, but more like a soft carpet and it lights up! How creepy sweet is that? I have no idea what the room was originally used for but there are power outlets on one wall and a big table in the middle. Memphis and me brought all our equipment down here, cranked everything up and just went to town! You want to know what the best part is? When the door is shut you can be standing with you ear pressed right up against it and still not hear what’s going on inside. I don’t think I’ve ever had a place where I could play and sing without worrying about who might be listening. Maybe moving here won’t be so bad after all.

August the Eighteenth

Yes I have gotten out of the catacombs and my new recording studio to check out the town although I probably wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t needed to get some new strings. I ended up at the Maul - they’ve got a pretty good music store and some shops where I might actually find some clothes I like but you know me - I spent most of my time in the music store. They have a scary slick selection of guitars - nothin’ like you’ve made for me of course but I played a few anyway cause they just looked so sad hanging up there on the wall all by their lonesome. I was just kinda picking a little bit when I got the feeling some monster was watching me. I turned around and sure enough there was this little frizzy haired werewolf staring at me. Now you’d be proud of me cause you know normally I don’t like being interrupted when I’m playing but there was just somethin’ about her that made me call her over. I asked, “Ain’t you never seen a monster play guitar before?”

“Not like you,” she said.

“Good answer ghoul friend.” Her name was Howleen and after I played some more she asked if I would teach her. I put the guitar back on its stand and looked at her for a minute. “Why do you want to learn to play guitar?” She sorta shrugged a little and said, “I guess because no other monster I know plays guitar.” I shook my head and told her that from the time I was a little ghoul all I’ve ever wanted to do was play and sing. “If I’m not actually playing or practicing I’m thinking about playing or practicing and if you took lessons from me I’d expect you to be the same way.” I knew she wasn’t ready for that. I did show her a few chords though and she actually caught on scary quick. She’s got long fingers and good ears. I told her that she ought to sign up for lessons with one of the music store’s guitar creatures and when she had learned everything they had to teach her to come and see me. She screamed all right with that and the music store even threw me in a set of free strings for getting Howleen to sign up with one of their instructors. Who knows, maybe she’ll end up loving to play as much as I do...hey...I said maybe didn’t I?

August the Twenty-fifth

Monster High ain’t like our one room ghoul house back on the delta. I got a chance to really check it out today after Headless Headmistress Bloodgood sent daddy and mama a note asking if they would send me up to see her. So I made my way up from the opera house to her office and introduced myself. She seemed very prim and proper and I was wondering how long it’d be before I’d have a special seat with my name on it outside her office. She told me shad had just been going through my records from the school back home and that she was pleased to have me as a student at Monster High. She also said, “I will expect excellence from you and neither shoddy work nor laziness will be tolerated or rewarded.” I said I reckon I expected the same from myself as long as she didn’t expect me to be the same kind of formal phantoms as my daddy and mama or to back down every time some monster said “boo” to me cause that ain’t who I am! I sat back and crossed my arms cause I expected she was going to give me a lecture on rules and manners and obligations to our monter legacy but instead she just kinda leaned forward a little, put her head in her hands and said, “I understand your father’s performances have been known to bring down the house, but I’ll expect you to blow the roof off this sucker.” Right then and there you could have knocked me over with skeeter’s wing. Monster High may turn out to be a place where every monster has to play off the same sheet music.

August the Thirty-first

Hey Fynn! There was a dandy meteor shower last night. I took that cypress body acoustic you made for me and went down to the beach. I pretended that they sky was a sheet of music and each shooting star that fell was a single note. I played until my fingers gave out and then I just sat back and enjoyed the show. I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to keep up with my diary once school starts but I want you to know that even if I’m not glad all over I think I’m going to like it here just fine.

#monster high #monster high diary #operetta #wave 3

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one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years

Text

“triad”

Chapter 15: the end of summer

Finally getting into the meat of the manga spade arc! Enjoy!

AO3 link

Days grew shorter. Shadows grew longer. So long that they seeped over the border and into the once-peaceful Clover Kingdom.

Many didn’t know it as they went about their lives, farming and working and sweating like usual. Only a few actually understood the threat that was growing, the threat they desperately wanted to overcome. But to overcome, you must be prepared to fight for your life.

Months and months of work were finally coming to a close. But would the Clover Kingdom be ready to face the spade Kingdom?

But also… would the Spade Kingdom be prepared as well?

“You’ve been sitting in that seat for months. Don’t tell me you haven’t figured anything out, yet?”

The man with shaggy white hair and large, reflective glasses nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of the deep, rough voice behind him. He turned around, now backlit by the magical screen his eyes had been locked on. It played a clip over and over again, ripped directly from a Clover Kingdom broadcast that they managed to intercept.

“That’s not true, Lord Dante. I’ve moved.”

Dante let out a chuckle, his serious expression dissolving. The man was in a good mood, and why wouldn’t he be? The end of these agonizing six months was near, and it was almost time to make their move. Finally, he would be able to enact his plan, and get to fight some interesting people along the way.

“Not that I can tell. Every time I come in here, you’re staring at that screen, Morris. In the exact same position, too, I might add.”

Morris felt a little irked by the comment, but he couldn’t do much about it. Dante and his siblings, the Dark Triad, were the reason why he was allowed to flee the Diamond Kingdom after Mars took over. Well, that wasn’t going to end well for Mars, as Zenon himself dispatched most of the enemy country’s troops. It was a small comfort, but overall the situation wasn’t too bad. Morris got to do what he did best, and be part of something catastrophic.

“Whatever. And no, I haven’t.” Morris sighed before turning back to look at the screen. The clip looped again, and again, and again. Just two or three seconds of footage, a critical moment that defied all explanation. “All I know is that this new power is something she calls true time magic.”

“Ah, groundbreaking.” Dante narrowed his eyes at the display. “Is this something she inherited?”

“No… I don’t think so.” Morris weaved his fingers together as he watched, barely aware that Dante was there still. “It’s true- because of her Dyad magic, she was able to steal part of Julius Novachrono’s magic. But Simulcian Dyads don’t just borrow their partner’s magic. Over time, they make it their own. So, effectively, she’s come up with new time spells that even Novachrono did not.”

Dante nodded slowly, faint recognition registering in the back of his mind. Well, not his mind.

The power to steal part of someone’s soul… their essence, their magic… and make it their own. How terrifyingly powerful.

“You sure seem to know a lot about it, Morris.”

“I told you before- The Diamond Kingdom harbored a group of Simulcian refugees for over a century,” Morris reminded him. “They offered to share their Dyad with our army in exchange for a safe, private place to stay.” Morris let out a wistful sigh. “I was the only one who visited… I even talked to their leader, Mikal. He was interesting… He showed me the research he was doing on his own family. Quite diabolical.” Morris’s smile dropped. “But then all of them disappeared… I thought I’d never find out what happened, but then, 6 years later, the Clover Kingdom attacked us with a Dyad of their own. One containing the Wizard King of all people.”

And now, the other half of that Dyad was Wizard King as well, the Wizard King they would have to face in only a matter of days.

Or maybe not.

The woman’s movements were instantaneous. There was no delay, no movement, between where she began and where she ended. But in that moment, all 8 of her opponents were down.

“She hasn’t made any public appearances lately. She’s been keeping to herself… it’s too bad, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fight her.” Dante finally spoke, his own little brain trying to figure out her trick. “According to the intel our spies provided, she should be over 6 months pregnant.”

“Or dead.” Morris shook his head. “Mikal explained it to me- When you form a Dyad, you cease to exist as an individual. You share the essence of your soul, your EGO, with the other. When Julius Novachrono died, he broke her Ego. So…”

Dante’s eyes widened a little when he realized what Morris was about to say. Morris just let his voice trail off, because there was no reason to voice the inevitable.

She is wilting away. LIke a flower who has forgotten what the sun looked like.

“It’s a shame. She was getting so powerful.” Dante shook his head sadly, but couldn’t help but smile. “I really hoped I would get to fight her one day.”

Morris let out a chuckle. Dante, your mind dwells on the wrong things, sometimes. I don’t think you would want to fight her. “I suppose. I would have liked to research her powers… there might be something in there I can use. For now, I guess I can dream…”

Both men watched her form on the screen, again and again.

“And besides…”

“She’s very cute-” “She’s very cute-”

Dante and Morris both cut each other off. For the first time, Morris actually turned in his chair to face his superior, fear starting to register on his face. It wasn’t much, just a tinge, but it was more than Morris had felt in his entire life.

“Morris…” Dante’s smile was gone. “What did you just say?”

Morris gulped, feeling the hair on his arms standing on end. “...nothing. Nothing at all.”

After a few moments saturated with tension, Dante finally relaxed his frown into a grin. “That’s what I thought you said.” He reached down and slapped Morris on the shoulder, a little harder than could be considered friendly. Morris stiffened, watching as Dante turned to leave, his cloak flaring out dramatically.

“If I do get to fight the Wizard King… I will conquer her. Just like I conquer everything else.”

Dante’s eyes glimmered at the thought, the hope he held close to his heart.

“Meeting you… is going to be so much fun.~”

(a couple months later)

“All rise for her majesty, the 29th Wizard King!”

This is the same room where I was married, and where I was later crowned. But now, I feel none of the nervousness of that previous visit. I’ve walked this aisle many times, my head held high, a crown glimmering upon my hair, and my robe flowing behind me.

I am the Wizard King, and this is my court. This is where I sit on my throne.

These past few months have been dense with work, more work than I’ve ever had in my time as advisor. After accepting my fate, I threw myself into this position more deeply than ever before. There’s a whole kingdom of people who need help, and another whole kingdom about to attack us. But little by little, I chipped through the work with the help of Marx and Adeline, slowly but surely repairing the damage and making sure those who were hurt were well cared for. But even now, there are problems, which is why I keep my doors open to whoever needs help.

“Y-Your majesty…”

A pair of men stand before me, their hands clasped together to keep them from shaking. They look like peasants, and there’s fear glistening in their eyes.

“We’re very sorry to bother you… our town was lucky enough to receive aid, after all. But-” He gulped, his eyes flickering up to my neutral face, leaned up against my propped up hand. “The magic knights in our town are wreaking havoc… they steal our food, slack off… and they even harass the women. If it isn’t too much-”

“Remove them?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter on my throne. “Tell me, what squad did I send to your town?”

“T-The Purple Orcas, ma’am-”

“Oh, I see.” Of course it’s them… I’m sure Kaiser would have a fit if he knew, I think, letting out a tired sigh. “Well, in that case, your wish is granted. I’ll send for the immediate removal of troops. Should I replace them?”

The two men looked at each other excitedly before turning back to me. “No! We’ve mostly recovered, thanks to you, those knights were just taking advantage of our recovery.” They both bowed in unison, grins still shining on their faces. “Thank you, your majesty!”

I smile down at them, motioning for them to rise again. “No problem! It’s my job to ensure that every citizen in this city is safe.”

As they leave, the crowd murmurs angrily. For whatever reason, many people usually come to watch as I listen to those who have requests, probably just to gossip and jeer at me. I do my best to be a good King, but there’s always going to be people who hold my status against me. They still see me as nothing more than a consort, someone who used Julius for power. It couldn’t be further from the truth; there’s nothing I want more than for Julius to be sitting on this throne today.

“I can’t believe it! Who gave you the power to redistribute my funds in the treasury?”

Now a wealthy, noble merchant stands before me, with much less benevolence than the peasants. His face is red with anger, like a tomato about to split open with juice. “I put those riches in there to gain interest! I was supposed to get richer, not poorer!”

“Oh, you did get interest, though,” I tell him casually, smiling a bit to myself at how angry he is. “That’s all I took out of your funds, too. You know that the Kingdom has been suffering lately-”

“THE KINGDOM? My ass!” he cuts me off. “Sure, some towns out in the boonies got destroyed, but do I have to pay for their problems?!” He points at me accusingly. “That’s not right! You don’t have the right to do that!”

“Look-” I shake my head, letting out an exasperated sigh. The night sky outside signifies how long I’ve been here, hours at this point. I’m starting to get tired. “The interest I took was enough to feed a town of starving people. You’ll make it back soon. Can’t you be happy that you’re helping the greater good-”

“HELP?! Why do I have to suffer for them!” he yells again. “My life was perfect! Why should I care if-”

“SILENCE.” In an instant, I’m on my feet. The air around me suddenly crackles with mana, and I hold up my hand to let an orb of dangerously bright blue light gather there. The entire room vibrates, and the crowd cowers behind the man who dared to speak to me like that.

“Cut me off again… and I will cut you in half.”

I clench my fist, and the orb intensifies. The noble’s eyes are wide, and the strength in his knees finally gives out. He collapses, his head ducking down as his body wracks with tremors. “I-I’m sorry- please- have mercy-”

“Mercy?” I smile again, but my eyes are as empty as ever. “You would show no mercy to those below you either, right? So why should I care if you live or die?”

He doesn’t answer, just squeezes his eyes shut and accepts his fate.

Satisfied, I release my power, and the light disappears. With a sigh, I sit back down on the throne, crossing my legs once seated. I feel heavier than normal, and for good reason; My belly is swollen, life kicking around inside. It’s only been about 7 months, but with a clever magical strategy, I managed to accelerate the pregnancy by two months. So, any day now, I will be meeting Julius’s child.

“Don’t bother me with this nonsense again. Just be grateful that I’ve given your life more meaning than you’re capable of yourself. Goodbye.”

Finally, everyone leaves, still muttering about the display of power I decided to throw out.

“You really shouldn’t be so rash, they’re just going to hate you more.”

Adeline lectures me, as usual, as she holds my hand to help me up the stairs to our room. We moved into one of the empty rooms together. I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel like it was right to keep sleeping in the old bed. I still brought the robe with me, and it sits on a chair in the corner by the window. “One of these days, it’s going to come back to bite you.”

“Eh.” I shrug, not denying it. As things stand now, they’ll have to target another Wizard King soon. “I want to get through this Spade nonsense first before worrying about that.”

“Understandable.” Adeline leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, you need to sleep.”

The two of us cuddle up under the blankets. I close my eyes and inhale her scent, a smile traced onto my lips. When we’re here, all alone, I almost forget about the world outside, and the fate within me.

However, the peace is short lived.

A scream rips through the early morning, jolting me from my trance. I sit up in a panic to see Adeline already awake, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. A cold sweat coats her skin, and she’s shaking violently. “Adeline?! What’s wrong- hey-” I get cut off as she throws herself into my arms, bawling into my chest. I freeze up, not able to do much but stroke her hair awkwardly. I’m not the best at comforting people, since Julius was the one in charge of that back in the day. But slowly, Adeline starts to calm down, her sobs quieting. “So… a nightmare?”

“No… worse…” Adeline finally sits up, her eyes dilated with fear. “I… I got a flash.”

A flash….

Adeline’s Celestial Clairvoyance magic allows her to see flashes of the future, and sometimes those flashes come at random times, like when she’s asleep. I gulp nervously, my fingertips going cold. Usually these flashes help me in some way, but from the look in her eyes, I know this one is serious.

“What did you see?”

Adeline squeezes her eyes shut.

“Bones… bloodstained bones. Fire. Rotting flesh. And a tree… a huge tree being uprooted as an even larger one grows beneath it. And-” Her eyes pop open.

“A butterfly…”

My blood runs cold.

“Or maybe it was a moth…”

I take Adeline’s hand to distract her (and myself). “I see… I think I know what it means. Something we already knew.” I give her a strained smile. “War is coming… and soon.”

Slowly, Adeline nods. Somehow, I’ve managed to calm her down. “Right… right.” She glances over at the clock. “It’s early, but I’m going to get up. I don’t think I can sleep any longer.”

“Alright. I’ll do the same.”

Only fifteen minutes later, Marx comes bursting into the office, out of breath. “I have news from the Heart Kingdom- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?!”

Adeline and I almost jump out of our skins at the sound of the voice. We freeze in our position. Of course he had to come running in as we decided to have a little make-out session, with me sitting up on the desk to reach her lips. My face heats up, and Adeline opens and closes her mouth trying to find an excuse. “Um… I was… feeling the baby?”

Marx lets out a rattling sigh before closing the door behind him. “Some things never change… anyway, the news from the Heart Kingdom-” He straightens up, looking worried. “They were attacked by a mobile fortress from the Spade Kingdom early this morning.”

“WHAT?!” My eyes widen and I hop off the desk immediately. “This morning!? What happened? Are we at war?”

“Not quite…” Marx sucks in a breath. “Our knights over there were able to stop them and even take over a border town. The situation deescalated so now we’re just waiting for the Spade Kingdom to retaliate.”

“Oh… oH!” I let myself relax. “That’s great news… hopefully this promises good things to come.”

“I hope so…” Marx looks at Adeline. “Come on, I have some work for you to do downstairs.”

“Awww, ok.” Adeline pouts before leaning in to give me a kiss. “See you later!”

“Yeah, of course!” I wave goodbye before sitting back down in my chair and pulling more paperwork towards me. The door shuts, and I am alone.

So… it’s going to end soon, right?

I reach down and rest my hand upon my belly.

I need to give birth to you before the war begins… so I can fight, and…

I close my eyes. Mana starts to course into my belly, time spinning around the baby gently. This is how I’ve sped up my pregnancy, bit by bit, not noticeable by anyone but myself. Any day now, I would be able to give birth.

And then, I smell blood. My eyes pop back open. I take my hand away from my stomach and reach up to wipe under my nose. Sure enough, a red streak comes with it.

Oh, fuck-

It hits me with as little warning as usual, the tidal wave of pain ripping through my head and through my soul. WIth a strangled cry, I spasm in my seat, my head thrown back against the head of the chair. The agony intensifies, this episode growing worse and worse with every moment. It happens infrequently, but over these last months it visits as a reminder of the fate ahead of me.

NO…. not yet…

I can feel what’s left of my soul desperately tugging itself away, desperately trying to die.

Just a little longer…

I clench my fist as lights pop at the corners of my vision.

I need… I need to die on the battlefield.

The lights get brighter, blinding me. A moth flutters towards me.

Not… YET…

------------

“Oh god… oh god please wake up…”

Adeline’s voice eventually coaxes me back to life. I blink my eyes open to see her, Marx, and Owen standing above me with scared looks on their faces. “W-What happened?”

“You had another spasm episode,” Adeline tells me softly. “How do you feel?”

A spike of panic shoots through me. “T-The baby-”

“It’s fine, perfectly healthy,” Owen assures me. “I’m more worried about you.”

I gulp nervously at the way they’re looking at me. I can tell that they know I’m hiding something.

“Sorry… I can’t control the seizures. I’ll try and warn you next time I feel it coming on.”

Owen sighs. “Right… well, I need to run and check up on the others. I’m sure they’re also traumatized…”

“Traumatized?” I repeat. Owen stiffens up, and so do Marx and Adeline. The tension has grown, but for what reason? “Wait, what’s going on? How long was I out?”

“Hours…” Adeline whispers. Owen exchanges a glance with Marx before leaving. “It’s evening now… and… well…”

“There’s been a development.” Marx finishes her sentence as she trails off. “Listen… while you were out… there were more attacks. One in the Heart Kingdom and two here.”

My eyes widen, but he doesn’t give me a chance to talk.

“There are three devil hosts in the Spade Kingdom… they call themselves the Dark Triad. And…”

Adeline hangs her head, unable to look me in the eye.

“They kidnapped Lolopechika… and…”

There’s static in my ears. His next words are fuzzy.

“They took Yami and William, too.”

A huge tree is uprooted as an even larger one grows beneath it.

A moth flits through its branches.

Fate has arrived.

Uh oh.... next time, chapter 16: the shadows. Yami and William are gone, and the apocalypse has arrived. What is one supposed to do when the inevitable stands ahead of you? We'll see what our poor Wizard King decides to do...

#black clover #fic #triad #oc: lisa #bc oc

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 4 years

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Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, I think there is like one or two swear words.

Summary: After the fight with Tony, Steve Rogers needs a place to stay and hide. This is when you bring him to your secret house in the mountains. One on one with Cap is fine, right?

A/N: This little one shot was made for one and only @imanuglywombat and her challenge. Congratulations for 1.7K followers, well deserved! Hope you will all enjoy this little one here <3 And I hope I am not too quick to post it?

Word Count: 5580+

Everything changed so quickly. One day you were all sitting in the compound drinking and laughing. Until the accords happened. It was then two friends became enemies and the superheroes became the enemies of the government.

All because Sokovia, all because the past was a bitch that would never let anyone live peacefully. All because Zemo's family was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

It all happened so fast and you happened to end up on the "losing" side. You saw Avengers as the independents who worked better without the interference of the politics. You chose the wrong side, as Tony described, not because you were an avenger, but because you weren't. Because they needed a technician. Because Steve needed you.

You were his wall that he used to hide behind, whenever he felt too exposed. You were his pillar when he lost the support. You were the one person that listened to Steve Rogers and not Captain America. You choice him not because of your deep and unconditional love, but because he needed you. Even if he never said that out loud. He looked for you when you we're not in the room. His playing eyes whenever he was left with painful decision to make. You never said anything. You were just there. Ironically you were his shield.

They all needed you, but right now with this empty expression on his face, Steve longed your attention, even of the hid that. He would never dare to look weak in front of you, in front of any of you. But you knew, you felt the pain in his blue eyes when he had to say goodbye to Bucky in Wakanda when apologised to Wanda and Vision, Clint and Scot. When he fought with Sam about stepping away just for a while, because he was too recognisable. He knew Wilson was right but it still pained that it was his friend to find and help Nat and not him.

So you stayed and chose him to make sure he will not get lonely. That he will still have him pillar and wall he used for that emotional protection. So you stayed because they needed a technician.

"We're almost here" you stated, slowly preparing the jet to land. You turned off all the possible tracking devises that Tony may have added to the plane in case someone decided to go after Captain America and his little squad.

"And what is here", the blonde man asked, looking around sceptically, only seeing mountains and trees around. You smiled sadly, seeing his untrusty gaze but you had to understand him. He did trust a lot of people lately, who seemed to be someone completely different.

"Don't you trust me, O Captain! My Captain!?" He gave you a soft, small smile and looked ahead. It was still not the same one that melted your heart whenever you two chatted, after a long mission and a stack of weapon and devices to repair. He was a good companion. He talked just enough, listened whenever you cursed on whoever was stupid enough to destroy whatever you were preparing, which most of the time was him, and he laughed at your reactions and your jokes. It was this beautiful sight and sound that you have fallen in love really quickly. This brought you a calmness that you thought you can never require from something as trivial as a laugh. His eyes sparkled and all the worries have disappeared from his face, making him look younger. And you were so proud that you were the one that managed to do that. So now you pledged that one day this laugh will come back to warm your heart once again.

The sight of an average size wooden house in the middle of the mountains and trees woke you from your thought. You looked around to find a nice place to land and leave the jet. There was a little smile on your lips. You haven't been for half a year or so. And you only wished you'd come here and show it to Steve in completely different circumstances.

"You can call a safe house if you'd like, " you started turning if the jet, making sure you put everything in order that ko one would track it down and saw it from the distance. "That's what Sam decided to call it."

"And how do you call it?" He asked, watching you work your magic with the jet. After Tony and Bruce, you were the biggest brain in the Tower with the love of the technology bigger than Stark's.

He loved watching you work. You were so passionate about every piece you could get your hand on, that it was contagious. The little smile and lip biting when you focused on something harder. The little happy, girly giggles erupting from your lips when you finished something you were proud of. Or the cussing under the breath of anyone that broke part of the weapon you made. To his amusement, it was mostly directed towards him. How many times has he betrayed his poor colleagues telling you that it was not his fault, but in some damn miracle you always seemed to know he was lying. There was this smirk on your lip and a side look, that you gave almost saying 'yeah sure, Cap!"

You belonged to the Tower. You always have. He hated himself for bringing you with them. Yes, it was your choice, but he should have said no, he should have made you stay with Tony. But you had nothing of it. You forced yourself into this quinjet and flew with them to Wakanda. He hoped that you would stay there and stay out of troubles, but to his fear, you planned to come back. Because "you all need a good technician." He was thankful, but still afraid for your safety. Coming with them made you a criminal, something he could not live with. You were away from your babies, as you always called your weapons, and stuck with him. Not even with Sam or Nat, but for him, because he wasn't even able to help his friends.

"Come on Steve, we all know you can't go now... You are a way to recognisable!" Sam was trying to put some sense into his heated head. "Wait for a while. Maybe grow some hair and beard, look like a homeless guy and then you will join me and Nat."

He hated to admit that, but Wilson was right. Even a hat and glasses would not do justice now when he became a well known governmental criminal. This was really just pathetic, and sad. How one person's image can change due to his personal feelings. One day he was a national hero, the other a criminal that needs to hide away from everybody.

"Come on, let me show my house", he widened his eyes at the information. He thought you were staying in the Tower, not to mention that this place was miles and miles away from the base. He started to panic. If it was your house, did that mean there was a family in here? Were you like Clint that was hiding his whole personal life away from everybody? He stopped in track realising that if this was your house, then SHIELD must have known about it. "Will just stop worrying for a while and trust me this once?" He looked away feeling ashamed, that you were able to read him so well. Not to mention, that he didn't mean to make you feel like he didn't trust you, because that was far from the truth. He trusted you more than anyone. You were the first one he contacted in Washington. You were the one disabling all the tracking devices, for him and Nat to run. You never joined them, but you were always in their ear ready to help them. He frowned just now realising something.

"You were here when you helped us in Washington", your little smile was enough for him to know that he was right. You did tell him you were away from Washington and in the safe place. So this was it.

"Sam is the only person that knows about this place. He has never been here, but he does know the coordinates, so if something happens he can always come here." You explained, slowly walking towards the doors. "No one knows about this place. This is the sacred asylum I go to when I need to be alone. It has been my dirty little secret for years now", you winked at him, bringing an understanding nod from him.

"It looks nice", he stated, looking at it from the outside, while you were searching for keys, you always had with you, in case you decided to just come here one day, out of a blue. The house did look cosy. It reminded him of Clint's house. Not too big not too small, just perfect. It looked like it was built for a family, rather than one person, but he decided not to go there. The little mixture of wood and stones gave it a nice, warm feeling as it was an old-fashioned type of house, which he already liked.

He was not however ready for the insides. He couldn't help but smile. If he thought the outside looked old-fashioned than he was totally not ready for this. There was no TV, no computers. The only 21st century was the kitchen, with a new oven and microwave and some kitchen technology. He knew you loved to cook, so this didn't surprise him. But even though it was different from the other parts of the house, it somehow completed the look perfectly.

"I come here to run away from the big city", you started, almost as reading his mind. You knew him enough to be able to read his expressions. "Just me, nature, mulled wine and a good book." He smiled at it, trying to imagine you seating on the sofa, or the little carpet next to the little fireplace in the living room, with no worries whatsoever.

"There is a lot of books," he noticed, looking at all the bookshelves rounding the room. He looked around and frowned seeing pictures frames on the shelves and walls. You did not have there in the compound. He used to come and watch movies with you and he has never seen any. Feeling brave and nosy, he took one where there were four people in it. What he assumed were your parents, a little boy at the age maybe three or four and you. He smiled. You couldn't be more than sixteen here. You wore a nice, blue summer dress. Your hair was in a braid and a smile on your lips. You looked so care-free and adorably cute, that he felt his smile widen.

"That's..." He noticed how you swallowed before continuing. "My parents and Mike, my little brother." He frowned hearing your tone cold. He put that back down ready to apologise for snooping, but you smiled and took his hand. "Come on, let me show you the house!" He chuckled under his nose at your childish excitement. But he followed you, happy that you were still able to laugh despite the whole situation. Not to mention, that he really enjoyed the warmth of your hand in his. Without thinking he squished in, in case you tried to take it back.

“There are two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom.” You started walking to one of them. “This will be yours if it's ok with you? There are already some stuff at the other one. So here is the bathroom. There is a bath and the build in shower, so, however, you feel like you can have two.” Your smile widened. “If you want any oils or anything just tell me. I’ve got like millions of those in my bathroom.” You then turned towards him with shining eyes. “I have something you will enjoy!” You walked him back into the room, and pointed at the des where there was a beautiful old fashioned wooden gramophone. Your heart skipped a bit, when you noticed his expression. He looked like a kid that just got his favourite gift for Christmas. “I have a radio in my room, but here are some vinyls out there as well.” Not giving him time to proceed you took him further on to one more bathroom on that level and little library with more books.

“What’s in here?” He asked, stopping next to the closed doors. He frowned seeing you flinch and bit your lip. He looked down when he felt you squeezing his hand a bit more.

“How about we eat something?” you let go of his hand and started walking to the kitchen downstairs. “I’m starving.” You smiled towards him but there was no sparkle in those eyes.

Steve felt awful. After the question, you showed him the downstairs, the living room, kitchen, and the wood place outside of the house. He promised to cut some of them for the evening and you thanked him with a nod. It was quite after that. Even the dinner making was awkward.

“This house…” You finally started, when you both were sitting on the couch, with a beer for each of you. You took a deep breath smiled sadly at the man. “ My parents started to build that when I was 13 or so. They said it’s for them when the kids move out. I always laughed at them because Mike was still just a kid, and it would take ages for them to move in here.” You took of your shoes and put your legs on his knees. Something you’ve done millions of times while you were watching movies at your room, back in the Tower. However, this time, you hoped it would give you strength to continue talking. “They finished it right before my 16th birthday. This picture you saw… It was at my birthday. A week after there was a car crash. They were coming back from a movie with Mike. I stayed in preparing for my college tests. They…” You felt Steve’s fingers circling on your leg. You looked up, just now realising you were tearing up. “There was a drunkie and all of them…” He didn’t think long, before he pulled you towards him and hugged you hard. His warm arms went around you, not caring about your tears watering his dress shirt. You felt so save, so good in him embrace. “This room, it was their bedroom. I did not walk in there since their death…” He kissed the crown of your head laid down with you still in his arms.

“I’m sorry I asked.” He whispered, and you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine… I’m sorry I teared up like a baby.” He chuckled and started to smoothly stroke your bac, and before you knew, you fell asleep in the arms of the man you loved.

“Like what you see?” You smiled tearing your eyes off his working body. He was cutting the wood and you were not so secretly checking him out. Who wouldn’t? He was build like a greek god, and with those muscles working, there was no girl in this world, who wouldn’t ster.

“You have no idea!” You winked at him and handed him a cup of coffee. You have been here for a week now. And you had to admit, you enjoyed the every minute of it. This weird feeling on how natural it felt to have him here. Cooking and cleaning with him. Staying up all night just to talk or watch stupid movies, on your laptop you took. He also started to smile a bit more lately, which made you very happy. It was still not the same laugh, but it was close enough. “Aren’t you too warm? I wouldn’t mind if you take that uncomfortable shirt off”, your heart skipped a bit hearing the booming laugh coming from his mouth. There it was. The laugh you fell in love with.

“Since when are you such a flirt?” He asked, putting the axe away and sitting next to you on the wooden bench. It was a nice weather today. Even a bit too nice and if he was being serious he did feel a little too hot, but he would never undress in front of you, without your consent.

“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy the attention”, another wink and another chuckle from him. There was something familiar whenever you talked to him. Something nice and soothing even when you tried to flirt. It was safe and fun. For both of the sides.

“From you? Always”, you bit your lip and smiled at him. There was something sincere about this. Jokes aside. He seemed to be very serious right now. The way he was looking at you, the stormy blue eyes travelled down your lips only for a mere second but they were there.

“And who’s the flirt now?” You whispered, taking a deeper breath, making him smirk. You wanted him to kiss you. You would never make a first move, but if he decided to kiss you, you would not say no. You liked him. Who were you kidding. You loved him. But you never found a good time to tell him about your feeling. First it was Washington, then Ultron, and now those stupid Accords. You didn’t want him to feel like he was being pushed into something. You wanted him to think about what you were about to tell him and wait for the answer. The longer you waited the more difficult it was for you to actually sit and talk to him. It wasn’t the fear of being rejected. But the fact that this conversation may change the relationship between the two of you, which you didn’t want. He was your best friend and losing him would feel like a nightmare. So you just kept those feelings to yourself, burying them down in your heart.

“The coffee”, he finally said, pulling away from the trance. You looked away ashamed of this intimate moment between the two of you. “It doesn’t taste as good when it’s cold”, he chuckled nervously, taking a sip for himself. You let out a breath and closed your eyes. This was the main reason why you never made a move.

“There is a nice way through the mountain, if you’d like to join me?” He raised his brow and looked back at the said mountains. “It’s not a difficult path, but a nice way to get your head straight.” You smiled to him encouraging and he nodded, thankful inside that you killed the nervousness between the two of you.

“You’re slacking”, he joked, when you were finally steps away from the top of the not so high hill, that you thought was a good idea to climb. Oh, how wrong were you. You send him one of your evil look and sat on one of the rocks, breathing heavily.

“Well, I’m sorry, Mr ‘I have a serum in my body’”, he laughed out loud, seeing your pout and sat next to you. “Not to mention, that your legs are like three times longer than mine!”

“That’s exaggeration!” He chuckled, handing you a bottle of water from his backpack. You smiled sweetly at him and drink half of it in one go.

“I swear I was better in that! Used to hike a lot, but I guess i turned into a desk mole”, You gave him back the bottle for him to finish it. Your gaze wandered over his Adam’s apple, admiring the shallow movements with every sip he took. “I was in better shape.”

“It’s understandable. It was quite chaotic lately, so I’m not surprised you’re… well… shit”, you widened your eyes and exhaled ‘offended’.

“First of all!” You started standing up and playfully poking at his chest. “Language?” He rolled his eyes but chuckled. “Second of all, is this what a gentleman sounds like? And here I am, thinking men in the 40’s were something else.” You shifted your weight on your right leg and put a hand on your hip, still poking at him. “Not to mention, that you’re a meany!” He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him, poking him harder making his shake his head in amusement. “Here I am opening my doors for you, and is that how you pay me back?” You said jokingly, but your smile disappeared when he stopped your poking, holding your wrist. He got up and looked at you with a such severity, that you just wanted to disappear. He took a step closer to you, towering over you with his blue eyes gazed on you. Despite the tension you felt, there was this nice feeling in your stomach that you liked whenever seeing him serious.

“You have no idea how thankful I am”, he whispered not taking his eyes off you. “Not only for choosing my side, but for everything else, I haven’t really thanked you for. The time in Washington, all the subtle but so needed changes into my suit”, he smirked, when you widen your eyes. You thought he never noticed them, as he never spoke of it. It made you happy, that he did notice and appreciated it. “Thank you for being by my side, for letting me know about Peggy, for the help with searching for Bucky and for the last week.” You looked away, but he raised your chin with his fingers and smiled. “I have been down since the whole situations with Accords and Bucky. Tony… We may not always get along but he is my friend, my family and… I know I was hard to get along with since we left Wakanda. Sam texted me almost everyday to stop being a dick and be nice for you. But you…” He chuckled and linked his forehead with yours. “You never made me feel bad. You were there for me. Everyday. Bringing me to your house, your dirty little secret”, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “You trusted me enough to tell about your family and the last week?”, both of his hands were on your cheeks, eyes on you and a small, gentle smile on his lips. “I haven’t felt so relax and so good since I woke up from the ice”, it made your heart skip a beat. “Waking up to see you in the kitchen preparing breakfast, watching and reading together, talking for the whole day and night. Getting to know each other. You made me feel like Steve Rogers again. Not Captain America, not an Avenger, not a criminal. Just me. And I’m not sure you have any clue on how important it is for me. You made me forget I have a whole US government looking for me. You made me feel like a normal guy, who just lives his life with a…” You noticed how he swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing. “With a beautiful woman by my side.” Your breath hitched at his confession. Your breathing quickened and you felt incredibly hot right now, your head spinning and legs losing any powers to stand by yourself.

You opened your mouth a bit, when his thumb came across your bottom lip. So smoothly and delicately. It felt like he put all of the emotions into this one touch. A simple and innocent touch made you want more. More Of his touches, more of him. You wanted to feel his lips on yours.

“Tell me to stop”, he whispered coming closer and closer. You ran your tongue across your lips and smiled at him.

“No”, you managed to say before he closed the distance between the two of you. There was a second you tensed, but when his tongue moved down your lip, your hands moved to the back oh his neck and kissed him back, like your life depended on it. You opened your mouth to let him in and enjoyed every second of his dominance, until you parted away taking a deep breath. Jeez he was a good kisser.

Blushing, you looked up and smiled seeing his big grin. There was some pink on his cheeks as well, making him look even more adorable. His eyes were shining bright, and the hand that was on your cheek moved, to intertwine your hand with his.

“It looks like its about to rain, how about we head down?” You nodded, not able to form a coherent answer. You only squeezed his hand a bit and followed him, feeling weirdly light and enormously happy.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Dirty Dancing!” You exhaled, cleaning up the dishes after the dinner. A glass of white wine next to you, and Steve laughing at your pouting face to your right with a towel ready to help you out. “It’s like THE best movie ever!”

“I heard this phrase a lot, to different movies.” He raised his brow at you and you chuckled.

“Well, ok, ok… There are much better movies. But it’s a must watch!” He laughed at your change of mind and took a sip of his beer. You quickly learned that the only alcohol he drunk was whisky and beer, so whenever you were going to get some shopping (in disguise in case someone would recognise you otherwise), you always made sure to have some of it in the basket.

It’s been another week since the mountain moment. That day you came back to the house and sat side by side reading some books. You kissed goodbye and awkwardly went to sleep. The others days seemed better. Steve welcomed you with kisses in the morning, and even a back hug two days later. You didn’t push him. Didn’t want him to feel like you expected something from him. He was old fashioned and as much as you wished just to jump on him, you understood why he took it slow. Well… Until yesterday.

You were sitting on the couch listening to music, your head on his shoulders, when you felt his hands roaming down your body. Starting with gentle touches on your shoulders, down to your sides, your hip waist, and finishing on your thighs, tightening the grip there. You didn’t do anything, letting him explore as much as he wished. But you couldn’t help yourself, when he started planting sweet kisses down your neck. You smiled to yourself at his gentleness, surprising both him and yourself when he bit a spot under the earlop, and the sweetest sound he would ever hear escaped your mouth. The moan. You could not describe yourself a very experienced person, but you were not a virgin. You enjoyed sex, greatly, but there was never a man who would pull out this sound out of you from just kissing.

For some bizarre reason you felt embarrassed, and looked away, only for him to cup your cheeks and place a loving kiss into your lips. Before you knew you were laying on the couch, with his towering out, kissing the life out of you. His colossal, but surprisingly gentle hands were travelling down your body, enjoying every inch of it. Your hands quickly mimicked his and relished the toned muscles under his shirt. You let him kiss you on the neck, until your hands lowered down the belt on his pnt. It was then he stopped you and sat down on the couch, apologising with the huge blush on his cheeks.

He told you how he didn’t wanted it to go as fast and he just let himself with the moment. He looked so stressed and didn’t even want to look you into eyes. This made you smile at him and grab his hand and kiss the knuckles.

“We’ll go as fast or as slow as you wish, Steve.” you only said, and you could see how this made him visibly relax.

After that you both played a movie and went to sleep. Thankfully it did not affect him in any ways. He welcomed you with a kiss and a hug and made you pancakes, which you truly appreciated. You enjoyed those moments with him. You knew you were being selfish, enjoying those domestic life. With fear you were waiting for Sam or Nat to text and call him in the field. But this… You decided to just let yourself live the moment and enjoy the man you loved by your side.

“Ok”, he exclaimed, putting the last glass into the cupboard. “Let’s watch it”, you smiled brightly and pecked him on the lips. You quickly finished the cleaning up and making a popcorn and opening two beers you sat on the couch and opened up the laptop with the movie. He pulled you towards him, and you didn’t complain. You loved laying on his chest or shoulders. You felt save and wanted and… loved.

Your hand voluntarily, without your knowledge, landed on his thigh, slowly caressing it up and down. Too focused on the scene on the screen you didn’t pay attention on how close it was coming up to his slowly growing erection. If you were not so focused on Patrick Swayze you would probably noticed how Rogers’ chest started to lift up and slope.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head back onto the coaches anchor, trying to control the blood flow to his crotch with your every subtle move. He didn’t know if you were doing this on purpose or not, but he was slowly losing patience. He wanted you. You were beautiful and amazing. He was sure that he was slowly falling for you. But he was afraid to let you down. He has never done it before and the last thing he wanted for you to be disappointed at him.

He opened his eyes when the scene changed to Baby and Johnny sexual dance. He noticed how you snoozed closer to him and your hand moved to his inner thigh and he couldn’t help it. He lift you up and sat you down on his hip.

This surprised you, and you were about to question him, when you felt his erection poking at you through his sweats. Your eyes widened and a smirk appeared on your face. You looked him in the eyes and was sure you would cum undone here and there. The lust in his gaze was too much even for you. And when he kissed you, you knew that there wa sno way in hell, you are going to finish the movie.

“Bullshit!” You finally said, after you both cooled down from your orgasms. Four in one night was your record, and you were sure that the two you managed to give him was not enough of the payback for him. “There is not way in hell you have never done it before!” He chuckled, and hissed the top of your head. You were laying on his bare chest, his arm around your waist, enjoying the warmth of his body.

“I’m not lying. There wasn’t really time for me to… explore…” You chuckled and landed a kiss on the left side of his chest. “I hope I did alright?”

“Alright? Steve, I’m not sure I will be able to walk tomorrow!” you looked up and smiled seeing his cheeks redden. This man that ate your pussy clean not even hour ago, was not being all shy talking about it. He truly was adorable.

“I think I’m falling for you”, he blurted and you smiled, hugging him even more. You put your head back into his chest, and before you closed your eyes to go to sleep, you whispered.

“Good. Because I already know I love you.”

When you woke up the bed was cold. You sat up quickly and looked around. You put on the shirt and underwear on and went downstairs. There was no sight of Steve. It was quiet and you almost believed that you have dreamed all this, when you noticed a letter with your name on it. You opened it and bit your lips nervously.

Sweetheart,

I cannot even begin to thank you for everything you have done for me. Those past two weeks were amazing. Not to mention last night. Doll, I love you and I really wanted to start the day with this. But I got a message from Sam and Nat, that they needed me. I didn’t want to wake you up, as you looked so peacefully beautiful.

Last night so special for me. Not because it was my first time, but because it was with you. After Peggy I never thought I would ever be able to fall in love with someone, until you. God, I love you so much, doll. I wish that we could just stay at home and just be us. But I need to help my friends, my family.

And when this all will be over I will come to see you. Give me a month and I will be back in your arms. I promise you.

I love you,

Steve.

You felt tears in your eyes, when you finished the letter and smiled sadly. He loved you. And it didn’t matter how long you would have to wait for him. As long as he would come back to you, you will wait for him. Here, at home.

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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years

Text

i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 5. love, you’re not alone

read on ao3

read earlier chapters

Amy mourns, important conversations take place, and a new decision is made.

june, cont.

Amy has never called in sick for three days in a row before.

She's been on leaves, and the odd sick day is inevitable when you have a kid at daycare, but it's never been more than one or two days before she’s at least attempted to work from home. Now she can't even make herself do that.

Technically, she’s perfectly healthy, which should probably exacerbate the guilt she feels over calling in sick, but not even her FOMOW is strong enough to drag her out of the cave of misery she’s dug herself into.

It's unlike her. She's Amy Santiago, she's a vessel of productivity more days than not, and even on lazier days, she'll have the energy to go about her daily life. This zombie-like existence, where it'll take three repeats before she notices her own name and she's uncertain when she last ate a full meal, isn't what her life is like. She's been sad before, she's been heartbroken and on the verge of giving up, but it's never enveloped her quite like this. She’s never felt this alone with her pain, because there’s no one to be mad at, no external circumstances or evil forces at work. The only things she can be angry at is her body, bad luck, and maybe fate, but she can’t put up a fight against either.

On the first day after what she supposes is the start of an early miscarriage, Amy googles, scouring the Internet for more information about chemical pregnancies. Her research feels largely pointless. It’s common, there’s nothing she could have done, it’s all down to a chromosomal accident. A chemical pregnancy can be seen as a good sign, one of the websites encourages her, and she snorts. It’s proof you’re able to get pregnant at all, she reads, and maybe it’s true, but it doesn’t give much comfort. After eight months of trying for twelve hours of euphoria that were ruined by a genetic fluke, she’d have wished for more reassurance.

On the second day, she gets out of bed and dressed, thinking she can trick herself into going back to work and pretend like everything’s fine if she gets far enough. It nearly works and Jake looks relieved when Leah and her hug goodbye, but once she’s in the car, the panic attack from two days ago flashes past her eyes and she’s shaking until she can get out of the vehicle and walk back up the stairs to their apartment. She spends the rest of the day in bed. At first, she doesn’t cry, but then she hears Leah asking from the other side of the door about what she’s doing and her heart shatters hearing Jake try to explain that mama’s just tired, she’ll play with you again tomorrow.

On the third day, she really tries. She gets started on a presentation for work and lets Leah pretend to make her coffee in her play kitchen, and she does feel better until her phone buzzes with news from the Santiago family group chat; David and his wife are having another baby. A welcome surprise, the message reads, and Jake has to hold her until she stops crying. Amy’s wracked with guilt as Leah brings her stuffed animal after animal, her eyes wide with distraught confusion.

It’s after the fourth day things take a turn. As far as her days of mourning - because she supposes it is mourning, after all - have gone, day four is subdued. Equally as gray, but not as sharply painful. It’s as if someone muted the volume in their apartment and slowed down their movements, turning everything into a lackadaisical haze. Even Leah is quieter than usual, almost acting a bit nervous around her, but when the evening comes she lets Amy read her bedtime stories and she falls asleep with her hand on Amy’s cheek. It’s the most peaceful and content Amy’s felt since six days ago.

“We have the best kid,” she mumbles as she curls up with her head on Jake’s shoulder ten minutes later, and he gives her an agreeing smile. “I think I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“I need to get back to normal. I’m starting to miss it, anyway.”

“Can’t cure that FOMOW easily, huh?”

She ignores the comment. “Is the precinct still standing without me?”

He laughs. “Barely. On that note... I got a request from Holt to go on this stakeout for two days. I think I have to take it, because, well - we’ve taken a lot of days off recently.”

“Yeah, of course. I can handle a bit of solo-parenting.”

“Actually -” Jake’s voice is apologetic, tinged with a bit of regret, and Amy’s instantly on edge, lifting her head from his shoulder. “- I was thinking Leah could stay with my mom for a few days.”

“Why would she need to do that?”

“Ames, don’t take this personally -”

“I’ll decide that for myself.”

“But I think it’d be better for both of you.” Jake’s eyes are boring into hers, and there’s a gravity to his tone she wasn't expecting. “I know you don’t want this to affect her, but I think it does, even if she doesn’t understand why, and… maybe you need a couple days on your own.”

She blinks, trying to make sense of his words. “So now I can’t be a parent to my own daughter because I'm sad over this?”

“Not what I was saying.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not,” he asks, face twisted in a pained expression, and it takes all her self control not to get up and slam the door to their bedroom. She’s learned from her mistakes, though, so this time she listens. “I love you, so much, but I don’t know how to help you when you don’t want to talk to me, and I don’t know what to say to Leah when she keeps asking why you’re sad. She notices so much - it doesn’t feel fair to her.”

“No, but it’s not forever. It’ll get better,” she says, more to ease her own remorse. “And what do you mean I don’t want to talk to you? We’ve talked.”

“Not for real.”

“What do you mean, not for real?”

“You haven’t asked me how I feel about this, for example.” She opens her mouth, but he shakes his head. “Don't do it because you think you have to. I know it’s worse for you. But I’m disappointed, too, you know?” He bites his lip. “I think we all need a break before we go crazy.”

She wants to object, but part of her knows he's right. They’re going crazy. Mostly her, but she can tell it’s affecting her family too, despite how desperately she wishes it wasn’t. She reluctantly swallows her anger for now - most of it is only poorly concealed guilt, anyway - and nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” The tension fades from his expression as he exhales, watching her like he’s searching for signs of protest.

Amy shrugs. “I feel like the world’s worst parent. But sure.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, wrapping her in a hug as she buries her face in his neck for comfort. “This is just really, really hard.”

Her bad conscience is even worse when she wakes up the next morning. It's made easier by Leah jumping with glee at the question of whether she wants to have a sleepover at grandma’s house, but hugging her daughter goodbye at daycare is still extra difficult. It takes five minutes longer than usual and enough cheek kisses to make the toddler try to wriggle herself out of Amy’s arms, and she’s still fighting tears when she gets in the car. She turns the music up so she won’t have to think, but her phone shuffles to Paper Rings by Taylor Swift and endless memories of family dance parties to the song flood her brain.

She turns it off.

Five seconds later, she turns it on again and lets the memories be a welcome reminder of why she has to keep fighting. By the time she reaches the precinct’s garage, she’s singing along at the top of her lungs.

She expects her first day back at work to be complicated, making abundantly clear how much she’s missed out on, but it’s not. After helping Holt out with a briefing, going through emails and submitting a work order for another broken fridge, she’s back to feeling like her efficient, professional self. She can do this. She can move on with her life and put this behind her. She can even follow the squad out for drinks later and have a glass of red wine for the first time in two months, enough to get her tipsy and laugh too loud at Rosa’s narration of a lively debate between Charles and a suspect about the ranking of different cheeses. Karen texts her a video of Leah pretending she’s Elsa from Frozen and gliding over the living room floor while singing the same lines of Let It Go on repeat, and her heart aches a little, but the guilt is easing. Jake sends her an update on the stakeout, asking if she’s doing okay, and for once, she doesn’t have to lie when she writes back I’m doing good.

She starts her second day back doing paperwork, but she doesn’t get far before she’s interrupted.

“Hey. Amy.”

She looks up from the stack of papers. “Rosa?”

“I need your help with this witness.” Rosa cocks her head in the direction of the corridor. “I know she saw my perp, but she’s confused and I don’t think she trusts me. I was wondering if you could help me talk to her? You’re much better with the emotional ones.”

“Ooh!” Amy shines up. “Is this another case for the Sleuth Sisters?”

“If it’s what gets you on board, then, sure.”

Rosa briefs her on the case before they go in, and it doesn't take much to wake Amy's excitement. As much as she loves being a lieutenant, likes the administrative work and appreciates the more flexible hours, she does miss the constant surprises and adrenaline rushes that come with being out in the field. She even misses this, the simple interacting with people in order to both help them and discover new clues, anything leading closer to a solved case. She enters the room with a pep in her step and an ambition to help, but freezes when she sees the witness.

At first, she wonders if it's the same tension she’s felt the handful of times she's had to question a familiar face - an identical twin of a high school bully, or a former neighbor she held a grudge against - but it only takes a closer look to realize that's not the issue. Amy doesn't recognize this woman.

The witness simply happens to be very pregnant.

She doesn’t ask, because it’s not pertinent to the case, but Amy would put the woman at around six-seven months. Too far along for it to go unnoticed, not yet at the point where it looks like you’ve swallowed an exercise ball. She remembers loving that part of pregnancy, with the nausea gone and the energy returning. Her jealousy is a physical ache when she sees the witness placing her palm high up on her stomach, smiling in the same way Amy remembers she would do whenever she’d feel kicks.

The woman is shy at first, talking in a low voice with short sentences, and she keeps her hands atop the baby bump the whole time. Amy doesn’t blame her - she knows how naturally the instinct comes - but it doesn’t keep her from wishing the woman would stop drawing more attention to her state.

She doesn’t remember what questions she asks. She doesn’t remember what the woman answers. She makes notes but isn’t sure what she’s writing. All she can focus on is how the witness seems to personify the romanticized pregnancy glow, with shiny, thick hair and a cute bump. Amy’s using so much willpower in order not to cry, panic, or leave the room, it’s making her sweat, and yet she can tell from Rosa’s quizzical glances that her behavior is conspicuous. She can’t hide her envious anxiety, because every instance the woman touches her belly is another reminder of the pregnancy Amy thought she had and lost.

Amy rushes towards the women’s bathroom the second it’s over. She needs to breathe, put her head between her knees and let the tears come until she’s cried out every drop of frustration over her situation, the unfairness of it all, the deep shame in not even being able to feel happy for someone else anymore. She’s disgusted with herself. Eight months of limbo trying to conceive has officially made her insane.

She’s leaning over the sink and splashing cold water on her face when Rosa catches up with her.

“Amy? What the fuck was that about?”

“Nothing. It was nothing,” she rambles. “I’m good. Great.”

“No, you’re acting weirder than usual, and something’s clearly up. Come on.” Rosa’s grip on her wrist is firm without feeling pressuring, and Amy’s too shaky to protest, so she follows her friend to the evidence locker.

“Can you sit down?” Amy nods. “Okay, great. Do you need your meds?” She manages another, more tentative, nod. “Okay, wait here and I’ll get them. Handbag, outer pocket, right?”

Rosa disappears before she can confirm the information. She returns a couple of minutes later with two cups of tea and a prescription bottle, handing Amy the anxiety medication and gesturing at her to sit down before giving her a stern look.

“Okay, Santiago. Tell me what’s up before I get mad at you for making that witness feel weirded out.”

“I’m sorry.” Amy twists the cap, swallowing one of the pills before sitting down on the floor next to Rosa, their backs against a shelf of cardboard boxes. “You didn’t tell me she was pregnant.”

“No, because I didn’t know it was something you would act all loony about.” Rosa raises a brow. “What’s up? Are you pregnant again? That’s usually when you’re crying in here.”

She sighs, twisting back the cap and placing it on the floor beside her. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

“So?”

“We’ve been trying since fall,” Amy blurts out, admitting it to someone else for the first time in six months. “With IVF, now, but I’m still not pregnant. I almost was. Or I was, but I had an early miscarriage, so… no.”

Rosa nods slowly, bringing the cup of tea to her lips. “Damn.”

“It took eight months before we got a positive test. Ovulation testing, scheduling, IVF with shots and pills and money and a billion doctor’s visits. Then we finally found out I was pregnant.” The words are flying out of her, an unstoppable flow once she’s found them. “Except not even a day later, we found out it wasn’t happening, the numbers were too low. Chemical pregnancy. It’s why I was gone last week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She bites her lip. “God, it’s so good to tell someone.” “Uh-huh. Wait.” Rosa scrunches her nose and knits her brows like Amy just critiqued The Holiday. “You haven’t told anyone?”

Amy laughs. “How would I do that? Call a briefing, stand in front of everyone and say hi, just so everyone knows, I’m trying to have another baby but I have shitty ovaries so it’s not going well and it’s making me depressed? Sure.”

“Not a public announcement, dum-dum. But you could have told your friends.”

“I didn’t want people to know. It’s been hard enough to deal with on my own. ”

“And I get that,” Rosa nods. “But there are people here who care about you. We could have been there for you.”

“How? Steered me away from every pregnant woman in case I start crying? I’m sorry, Rosa, but I don’t see how it would work.”

“Maybe not, but we could have helped! I could have known not to ask you to work with me on this specific witness instead of sitting through that shitshow!” She groans. “I know you hate accepting help or whatever, but you’re not alone in this, even if you think you are.”

Amy looks down at her shoes. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just… don’t torture yourself over this more than you have to. It’s not worth it.”

They sit like that for another moment, no sounds but the occasional sips of tea and heavy breaths as Amy feels the anxiety fade from a heavy storm to a cool breeze. She still feels guilty over ruining the case for Rosa, for the poor pregnant woman who probably thinks Amy’s a sociopath, but the tea and company are helping more than she can express. She knows Rosa’s right, too - she’s been keeping this pain mostly to herself for so long, never considering the option of talking about it. It’s a little bit of performance anxiety, a little bit of embarrassment and a little bit of stigma. She’s not supposed to struggle with getting pregnant.

“I guess I was afraid if I talked about it, it would make it more real.” The realization takes shape as she speaks it. “Like, as long as we didn’t tell anyone, I could pretend it wasn’t happening.”

“But it’s already real, isn’t it? Talking about it won’t change that.”

“I guess not.”

Much to Amy’s surprise, her friend, who could and probably would break Amy’s arm if she hugged her without asking, lays a hand on her shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Look, I get if you don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s fine. But if you want to come over tonight, watch a Nancy Meyers movie and drink tequila, you can. I won’t bully you if you cry.”

The sentiment is sweet, and so very Rosa of her, it makes Amy throw her arms around her best friend in gratitude, risking the fact that she might lose her arm. Rosa grunts, but then she leans into the hug for a brief, precious moment before disentangling herself.

“I’ll expect you at eight,” Rosa says before collecting their teacups and standing up. “Bring pizza.”

This time, Amy manages a proper smile. “I’ll be there.”

She tries to get back to work, but her focus is done and the precinct appears calm, so she takes the freedom of working from home for the rest of the day. There are only three hours left until she’s supposed to pick up Leah, anyway, and the apartment could use some cleaning. Her daughter’s room, in particular, is a mess so thorough Amy’s nearly impressed, but mostly shocked by how a person so tiny can create so much chaos. There’s no question about which parent the child inherited her non-existent organization skills from, she thinks, and gets to work on pairing together different puzzle pieces with their boxes.

It’s when she’s laying on her stomach, trying to get a hold of the pieces that’s made their way underneath Leah’s bed, that she finds something. There’s a plastic bag pushed all the way to the wall, and she reaches for it to see what it is. She can’t see clearly through the packaging, so she unwraps it, pulling out a white toddler-size t-shirt with black arms and fancified gold writing that reads Promoted To Big Sister.

The heaviness in her chest returns with a vengeance when she realizes Jake must have ordered it - either during the few hours they thought they were having another baby, or even earlier. She clutches the item to her chest and closes her eyes, anticipating the tears.

“Shit. I was hoping you wouldn’t find that.”

Amy turns her head to find Jake standing in the door opening. It's clear from the messy hair and crumpled t-shirt that he's coming straight from a long work shift without showering first, and the bags under his eyes make her wonder when he last slept.

“It's okay,” she says quickly, folding the item so she can't see the design. “Just… can you take it?”

He nods, taking it from her hands and sitting down across from her on the gray long-pile rug, putting the shirt behind his back.

“I can hide that better. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Amy snivels. “It's fine. I'm fine.” She stands up, picking up a stuffed Ikea shark from the floor and putting it on Leah's bed.

“You're cleaning.”

“Yeah.” She finds an illustrated Harry Potter-book at the foot of the bed and returns it to its shelf. “It calms me. How was the stakeout?”

“Good,” he nods. “How are you?”

“I'm okay. I think. How are you?”

His smile bears heavy traces of exhaustion. “Also okay, I think. Did a lot of thinking while I was away, actually.”

“Yeah.” Amy picks up a basket of fabric vegetables, putting them near the play kitchen before she sits down across from Jake again. “So did I.”

“Do you want to share, or…?”

“No - you go first.”

Jake grimaces. They’ve gotten better at this over the years, finding a balance between his hesitancy to lay bare his emotions in serious conversation and her tendency to read into details and draw the worst conclusions posthaste, but she can still sense his discomfort as he reaches for a stuffed dragon from Leah’s bed, squeezing it to keep his hands occupied.

“I know I don’t know what it feels like,” he says slowly. “It’s not my body that’s…”

“Broken,” she fills in reflexively.

“Putting up a bit of a fight,” he corrects her with an unyielding look. “But you’ve been acting a bit like it doesn’t hurt for me, too. I know it was only a day, but for that day… I was already ordering that shirt for Lee, you know? I was so excited.”

“I know. I’ve really been busy feeling sorry for myself, huh?” She tries to laugh, but the chuckle dies out like a droplet of water swallowed by a raging fire.

“No, you’ve been suffering. Don’t be mad at yourself for that. Just… you’re not alone in this.” His hand reaches out to hold hers, and she squeezes it tight.

“It’s funny. Rosa told me the same thing today.”

“You talked to Rosa?”

“Yeah. I’m going over there for Nancy Meyers and tequila tonight.”

“Good, you need it.”

“I do, huh?” This time, the quiet laughter survives. The corners of Jake’s mouth quirk up.

She's missed seeing him smile, she realizes. She's missed sharing happiness with him. They’ve had moments of hope, and even when everything has felt dark, they've still smiled and had fun with their daughter; but she wonders when they last laughed at something trivial just the two of them. It feels like ages.

“I miss our normal life,” she says, because it's the only way she can think of to describe it. “I’m sorry I brought you into this mess. It's all my fault.”

Jake frowns. “No, we agreed on trying IVF.”

“I meant, I'm sorry we're struggling at all.”

“I don't think I get it -”

“It's my body that's the problem, right? If only you’d married a woman with well-functioning ovaries, you wouldn't be sitting here.”

She's serious, but the way he narrows his eyes and looks at her like he doesn't know if she's joking or not, makes her giggle. He joins in, shaking his head in disbelief, and for a moment, it feels like old times.

“I know this might be hard to believe,” he grins, “but Amy Santiago, I did not marry you for your ovaries.”

“Well, that's a relief.”

“I swear. I love you, more than anything in the world except our daughter, and that means I love all parts of you.”

“Even my shitty ovaries?”

Jake rolls his eyes lovingly. “They wouldn't be the first thing I listed, but, yes. I love them too.”

She laughs again. “Thanks, babe.”

“You're welcome.”

“I love you, too.” Amy closes the short bit of distance between them, wrapping him in a close hug as they sit there on the carpet. She's sniveling again, drying her eyes against his flannel, and he strokes her upper back and kisses the top of her head as he holds her. “So, so much.”

They sit like that for a moment, not moving more than the slightest of shifts, another soft kiss pressed to a neck or a cheek.

“Do you want to think about the next step?” Jake asks, and she nods.

“We still have two frozen embryos left - we could transfer those and hope one sticks.”

His eyes gleam in that mischievous way she recognizes so well, maybe even from the first day they became partners. “And are we doing both at once?”

“I guess we might as well, right?”

Jake pumps his fist in a childish victory gesture, and it's Amy's turn to roll her eyes. Her skepticism is half-hearted, though, because it's hard to remain unaffected by his infectious happiness.

“I can't wait to be a family of five with you,” he whispers into her ear, pulling her onto his lap, and she groans.

“You’ve got to stop saying that, I swear you’re going to jinx it.”

august.

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s gotten used to it, that she’s not forcing her body to produce an unnatural amount of mature eggs, or that she’s filled with so much now-or-never furious ambition, but Amy experiences their second attempt with fertility treatments to flow much easier. She takes the medications, is thankful they don’t involve as many injections this time, goes to checkups, and does all she can to maximize her chances in the meantime. No tip is too absurd in comparison with her desperation for this to succeed. She tries acupuncture and changes her diet. She cuts back on caffeine despite the headaches it gives her, and takes even more vitamins. She does a few tries at fertility yoga, which mostly fail when Jake walks in on her doing a very wobbly supported shoulder stand and explodes in laughter, or when Leah insists on watching and is silent for exactly one minute before she wants to use Amy as a jungle gym and tries to climb on top of her in bridge pose. At first, Amy’s frustrated, but then she thinks of the sources she’s read about laughter being able to boost fertility, and lets the yoga session turn into a giggling tickle fight with her toddler. It’s much more fun, anyway.

She continues the tips after the transfer, too. She wears fuzzy socks for her day of bed rest even though it’s the end of July and their bedroom is uncomfortably heated as is, because keeping your feet warm is supposed to boost chances of implantation. She orders jasmine scented candles for the same reason, but it only takes a minute after lighting one for her to realize she’s wildly allergic. In the end, there’s nothing to do but wait, hope, and try to relax.

They decide to go all-in for the relaxation part. Truthfully, it’s not as much a decision as an offer from Charles and Genevieve to tag along for free on their family vacation after a pair of Boyle cousins dropped out, and not as much relaxation as it is a change of environment to chase their dare-devil two-and-a-half-year-old around in, but it is a paid-for one-week-trip to a family-friendly resort in Mexico and they’re not going to say no. Amy packs two pregnancy tests in her bag, and they’re on their way.

She worries about whether being on vacation with Charles will inevitably mean an abundance of intrusive questions and terrifying dining choices, but either Genevieve or Jake must keep him in check, because it’s neither. Rather, having two extra adults present ends up hugely improving the vacation - there's always someone guarding the kids, and Amy finds herself finishing reading one book, a poetry collection and listening to two podcasts already in the first four days. She gets her daily workout in by chasing Leah around, trying to prevent her from jumping headfirst from the deep end of the pool. She takes turns with Jake to pretend they're sea monsters who want to eat Leah's toes while she floats around with her swim ring and puffs, laughing merrily at them both. She discovers that the best way to get her daughter to let her put on sunscreen is if she gets to watch YouTube clips on the iPad meanwhile, and reaffirms that the best way to get Jake to put it on is to do it for him, then accept his offer of returning the favor. They try out all of the resort’s playgrounds and eat a ton of ice cream to keep cool. On one of the days, Jake and Leah take a nap together in the shadow spooning on a daybed, and Amy takes about a hundred pictures before scooching her bed as close to theirs as possible.

With her heart full, and her relaxation levels higher than they've been for a long time, she almost forgets it's time to take a pregnancy test.

It's evening by the time she remembers.

Charles and Genevieve have offered to babysit Leah for a night in exchange for Jake and Amy watching Nikolaj the next, which gives them the rare chance to have a proper date night. Amy gets dressed up, opting to go the extra mile with a sleek, black, v-neck dress that hasn’t seen the light of day since their honeymoon, and paints her lips a matte red for a pop of color. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she worries it’s too much - the dress sits tighter over her hips than it used to and the makeup feels like she’s overcompensating - but the way Jake’s gaze lands on her once she steps out, how his eyes widen and he swallows a gulp of air, makes her stresses dissipate.

Eight years of dating, five years of marriage, and he still looks at her with as much awe as he did their first night together.

He’s wearing a familiar pastel pink button-down, paired tastefully with dark jeans and the curls she still goes crazy for, so Amy figures she looks at him the same way.

It is with great willpower they make it down to the restaurant in time for their reservation, only stopping once to make out against the wall of a hotel corridor. They’re seated at a nice table near a window with an ocean view, and it takes the waiter placing two drink menus on their table for Amy to realize why it feels like she’s forgotten something.

“Shit,” she mumbles, biting her lip as she reads the wine list.

Jake looks up, a horrified look on his face. “What? Don't tell me they only have Orangina for orange soda.”

“No, it’s not that. I just remembered I don’t know if I can drink. I forgot to take a pregnancy test.”

“That’s today?”

“Yeah. I was going to take it this morning, but then we slept in and Leah woke us up by jumping in our bed...” “And then Charles knocked on our door and asked us to come down to the breakfast buffet in five minutes,” Jake nods, bringing his hand up to his chin as if he’s in deep thought. “Well, we could leave and take it now?”

Amy considers it, but as much as she wants to find out, she also wants to sit here forever. Something about the restaurant’s lighting is making her husband look especially gorgeous, and it’s been way too long since they last sat through a proper nice dinner. She needs this. They need this.

“No,” she decides, intertwining her hand with his across the table. “Let’s have a quick dinner. I won’t drink anything, and then we’ll take a test.”

“Okay. Then I won’t drink either,” Jake declares, flipping to the non-alcoholic drinks with his free hand. “Yes! Regular orange soda!”

“You don’t have to just because I can’t -”

“Ames, I’m repeating, regular orange soda. This is the opposite of a problem. Plus,” he shrugs, “I literally just want to spend time with you.”

His tone is so genuine, his smile so sweet, she can’t stop herself from leaning forward and kissing him despite the looks from their fellow restaurant-goers.

The dinner is wonderful, yet Amy can’t shake her nervousness. It bothers her. She’s having a luxurious meal, toasting in fruity soda together with the love of her life, and she can’t even be fully present in this moment because she’s worried about what the test will show. If this attempt has failed, she’ll have to do another full round of IVF, even though the thought of more injections makes her want to scream. If they get another negative test, it’ll be ten months and counting of this taking up too big a part of their lives, and Amy’s tired.

She wants to be pregnant and she wants to have another baby, but she also wants to enjoy life with her family without worrying about cycles, ovulation tests, and clinic check-ups. She wants to go on more of these date nights, more vacations, and share a glass of wine with her husband in the evening because she can. She’s tired of rules and recommendations, of counting, scheduling, and planning. For ten months she’s tried to be patient, but now the exhaustion has begun to creep over her.

They rush back to the suite once the dinner is done. Jake waits outside the bathroom while she takes the test, tries to make her hands stop shaking as she washes them, and carefully places the test display-down on the sink. He hugs her when she comes out, and she lets herself relax for a second in his arms even though she feels sick with anxiety.

They sit on the balcony, drinking from glasses of alcohol-free champagne in silence until the timer on her phone rings. Jake goes to get the test from the bathroom, but Amy feels like she knows the result before he’s given it to her.

The test shows a bolded, plain, Not Pregnant, and she scoots it with her foot across the balcony, getting it as far away as possible.

“I’m sorry, “ Jake whispers, letting her lean her head on his shoulder and squeezing her hand.

She exhales, forcing herself not to cry. “So am I.”

“What do we do now?”

“First, I say we order a bottle of real champagne.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t object.

Much like it was a sudden thought that awakened a long lingering feeling when she first suggested they’d start trying, this time it's the immediate and overpowering negativity bringing up the growing sensation of impending burnout, that makes her say what she's thinking.

“I want to stop.”

Jake looks at her with as much shock as if she’d said she was thinking of canceling her Staples Rewards Membership. “You want to… stop?”

She nods.

“Like.. just… stopping?”

“You heard me. I don't think I want to do this anymore.” Amy draws a shaky breath, looking down at their intertwined hands. “If we have another go at IVF, we have to do the whole thing again. I guess we could, but it’s so much money, Jake.”

“We could work it out,” he mumbles.

“We could. I just don't know if I want to.”

“But… you wanted another baby.”

“And I still do.” She thinks of all the families she’s seen at the resort over the last few days. Sisters and brothers playing together, a light-haired toddler taking a break from swinging to run and kiss their baby sibling’s head, tiny infants with sunhats and baby swimsuits eliciting screams of happiness from being in the water while their big siblings try to entertain them. It’s painful to imagine never having her dream of more than one kid fulfilled, but it’s infinitely more agonizing to feel like she’s missing out on the wonderful life she does have.

“But it's been so long. It’s been so much pain, time and tears, and I'm still not pregnant. Remember when you said we’d do IVF as long as I felt it was worth it for me?”

Jake nods slowly. He’s watching her with a wistful look on his face, which is somehow more heartbreaking than the negative test.

“I don't think it is worth it for me anymore,” she whispers.

“I… are you sure, Ames?”

“No,” she confesses. “Yes. For now, I’m sure.”

He wraps his arms around her again, neither of them saying anything as she twists her head so their foreheads are touching. Trailing her fingers against his jawline, she cups his face, lips brushing against his with the softness of doing it for the first time and the familiarity of doing it for the thousandth. He’s a little surprised by the move, but then he’s kissing her back just as carefully, one hand tangling in her hair before he draws back.

“I’ll go get us that bottle of champagne,” he says, and squeezes her hand another time before leaving.

The sun’s starting to set, painting the sky a captivating roseate-orange blend. It fills Amy with a sense of peace and relief - a hope that her life will soon feel more like her own again.

Checking her phone inside, she sees that Charles has texted them a picture of a soundly sleeping Leah. She ignores the trio of winking emojis he’s written after encouraging them to have a good night and sends back two hearts instead. She’s already missing her daughter so badly it’s physically painful, and her eyes linger on the picture long after she’s replied, but she reminds herself that tomorrow is only hours away. Tonight is date night, and she’s determined to make it a good one despite its unconventional start.

Jake returns ten minutes later, all out of breath from what he describes as a brisk walk to the corner store to buy the fanciest bottle they had for a decent price, and she smiles and kisses his cheek before accepting a glass.

“This is beautiful,” she says, moving aside so there’s space for him on the patio loveseat.

“The sunset?”

“This night. The sunset. You.”

“You’re beautiful-ler.” His reply is as reflexive as her eye-roll.

“I mean it. I want to enjoy this night with you. Hell, I just want to enjoy my life,” Amy gives the abandoned test a death-glare, “without this constant stress. It’s ruining everything.”

“It hasn’t ruined everything...”

“No, but everything would still be better if it wasn’t there, you know?” She shrugs and he nods, taking a sip from his glass. “I want to get back to our normal life. This vacation is making me realize how much I miss it.”

“What do you miss?”

“Being relaxed. Having any sort of free time. I miss being able to just live our lives with our amazing daughter, and not be constantly thinking of whether I’ve taken this and that medication or gone to this and that appointment and what day of what cycle it is.”

“I get that.” There’s a playful smile on his lips, and she’s about to ask what he thinks is so funny before he speaks again. “Do you think maybe we make such great kids that the universe couldn’t handle more than one? Think about it! Your brain, and my good looks - maybe it’s too powerful a combination, and if we have more children, everything will, like.. explode.”

It’s a ludicrous theory, but he delivers it with so much conviction it makes her snort, laughing until there are tears in her eyes.

“I’ll have to admit,” she says when she can finally form words again, “it sounds way more plausible than any other explanation.”

There’s a lighter atmosphere between them after his joke, the warm evening air a little easier to breathe. They change the topic, drink more wine, and she makes less note of what they’re talking about than how content she’s feeling. It's like just making the decision to stop and accept the situation, rather than doing everything in her power to change it, is a giant block of stone off her shoulders. Without it, she can feel like herself again. The painful thought of never having another baby still bites at her, but for once, she's able to push it aside and refill her glass instead.

She wonders when they last had a proper date night like this. She’s certain it’s been too long - if nothing else, then for the way she finds her eyes resting in certain places after a while. The one unbuttoned button on his shirt, revealing a bit of slightly tanned chest. The way his fingers wrap around the thin glass. His neck, practically asking to be peppered with nips and bites. His arms, his hands, the thighs she can't help but rest her hand on.

A moment of deep eye contact, meeting his curiosity before she blushes, looking away.

“Another thing I miss about my life,” she says, struck with sudden confidence. “Having sex with you without always thinking about whether I’ll get pregnant.”

“Woah there.” Jake coughs, examining her expression. “Did you have four drinks already?”

She shakes her head.

“Hmm. Anyway - it's okay, Ames.”

“For you, maybe.” She swallows the last in her glass. “Less so for me.”

His cheeks turn a dark crimson. “I'm sorry -”

“It's not your fault,” she assures him. “Honestly, I haven't let it be about me. Or us. But - god - I miss it being just for pleasure.”

“Me too.”

The heated glance he gives her is a physical sensation, making desire pool in the pit of her stomach and sending her nerves on full alert when his hand touches her bare inner thigh, softly stroking.

“I can't remember when we last were child-free together for a whole night,” she whispers, and he smiles a knowing smile. “Let's make the most of it.”

“If you say so.”

She pulls him in for a searing kiss, sighing with pleasure as he moves his hand higher, closer to where she's aching for if to be.

“Let's go inside, babe.”

She’s nervous about so many things - whether she’ll change her mind tomorrow, whether this counts as giving up, if it makes her weak - but as Jake’s fingers brush over the faint bruises from the last injections with so much reverence, and he makes a point of kissing the thin white stripes on her lower abdomen that remain tangible proof she once carried their child inside of her, she decides those thoughts can wait. His lips move to her centre, and she gasps so sharply, he places a hand on her hip to keep her still.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she breathes, feeling the vibrations of his laugh before he sucks harder and everything is forgotten except the blissful sensation of his tongue against her and the building, pleasant tension as he pushes her closer to the edge.

It’s a night of relief, in more than one sense.

#we're nearing the ending guys hold tight it'll be good i promise #my writing #b99 #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 fic #brooklyn nine-nine fic #b99 fanfiction #brooklyn nine-nine fanfiction #jake x amy fic #jake x amy fanfiction #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction #iwthwy

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