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porcelainseashore · 3 months

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Ghosts from the Past (4)

(Part 1 / Part 2: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7)

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Oof, I'm really nervous with my portrayal of the mystery woman in red, but hopefully it makes for a good read. Also, a word of caution on some medical horror lying in wait.

AO3 Link

Chapter 4: Red

The deal with the scientist would go down early in the week, on the day after your performance. Bergmann had requested for you to accompany Leon, much to his chagrin. As always, your handler relished in the game of politics, wanting to make life a little more difficult for the golden boy, just because she could. It was petty, but she had always done her job well, so no one really questioned her methods. If there was one thing Germany was well-known for, it was red tape - a lot of it. Bergmann used that as an excuse to get you to keep an eye on him. This ensured that it wasn’t just the US side setting the agenda, and she would earn her place of glory if the mission was successful. It had to be.

Ever since the dreadful confession you had with Leon, you focused on the lead up to the performance, distancing yourself from the man as much as you could. Each question he had was met with curt, one-word answers. You completed your reports and handed them in without a word. The actions you took seemed to cause him visible pain, as if a brick wall was cracking bit by bit. You picked up on the nuances in his body language, especially whenever you shunned him. The way his eyes flickered when he stared at you, emptying out like a hollowed shell as he pressed his lips together in a taut line.

On the day of your performance, he wished you good luck, repeating the same words he had slipped you on a note back in high school. “You got this.” A timid smile formed on his face, unsure of how you’d react, but carrying a small glimmer of hope.

Until then, you had barely acknowledged his presence, but now you retaliated with a look of revulsion. How dare he play with your feelings?

“You’ve got some nerve,” you spat, turning on your heel and slamming the door on your way out, without waiting for his reply.

That night, as everyone was busy preparing for the show’s premiere, Leon had taken advantage of the diversion to do a reconnaissance of the place, based on the details you had provided to him. Channeling the whirlwind of emotions you had gone through into your movements, you danced through Silje’s latest creation, ‘The Rite’, a piece about passion, sacrifice and death. It almost felt like a ritual or secret initiation, as you rolled through the earth scattered on the stage set, muddied and stripped down like an animal, before being forced into a red dress by your co-dancers and given up as an offering to the gods.

The end of the performance was met with a resounding applause and multiple encores, as Silje came on stage to receive the customary bouquet of flowers, which she handed over to you. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulders, as you made your way backstage to wipe the dirt off your face and look presentable again. You did it. In spite of all the trials and tribulations, you made it here as Silje’s star. But even then, it still felt like something was amiss.

Sighing, you exited the stage doors to enter the foyer, where you greeted the theater patrons and other important people along with your fellow dancers. From the corner of your eye, you spotted someone you recognized - a tall, young man, with his dark raven hair slicked back with wax. He was impeccably dressed in a suit that you assumed was personally tailored to him, and exuded elegance as he made a beeline towards you. Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, you’d forgotten he would be here. He never missed any of Silje’s shows.

“What a performance!” He exclaimed, his radiant smile causing his eyes to crinkle with joy. Cupping his hands over yours, he gave them a squeeze. “You were wonderful as always.”

“Mikkel?” You tried to feign happiness in seeing him, as a tinge of disappointment overcame you. No matter how much you tried to snuff out the burning desire within, you wished it was someone else. Someone whom you’d rather leave in the past.

“It’s so good to see you,” he remarked genuinely.

Suddenly, as if he had a knack for showing up at the most inopportune times, you heard Leon’s rugged voice. “There you are.”

You didn’t face him, but you could tell that he seemed a little out of breath. “I managed to catch the last of it. You were amazing.” His hand hovered just over the small of your back, wanting to touch you, but knowing he couldn’t.

Mikkel flashed him a puzzled look. “Mikkel.” He extended his hand. “And you are…?”

“Leon.” It sounded tense and pinched, as he ignored the offer for a handshake.

You stepped in to interject before anymore damage could be done. “He’s, um, an old friend from the States,” you explained, nodding between the two of them awkwardly.

“Visiting?” Mikkel questioned.

“You could say that,” Leon muttered, in a tone that showed the initial signs of irritation.

Mikkel appeared to have perceived this and instead focused his attention on you. “Well, actually, I have been meaning to ask you,” he began mindfully. “If you would like to follow up on where we left off that night?”

You felt the temperature around you drop to a negative value, as his words hung in the air in deafening silence.

“Maybe we could… discuss this another time?” You suggested meekly. God, you were terrible at letting people down.

“I’m sure now is as good a time as any,” Leon interrupted tersely. You could feel the accusing glares he was throwing your way. “Wouldn’t want to keep Mikkel here hanging, right?”

For the first time since the conversation started, you turned towards him, giving him a warning glance. “Leon.”

He tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing you with a bold defiance in his eyes.

“Sorry, uh- I’ll call you or something,” you mentioned rather noncommittally to Mikkel, as you dragged Leon away from the foyer.

Once you were certain you were out of earshot, you threw your hands up in vexation. “Seriously, what the fuck?” You hissed. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Oh, you mean the recon part? Yeah, done and dusted,” he scoffed, aware that you were purposely avoiding the subject.

“You know, it’s pretty rich of you to give me the silent treatment, when you seem to have moved on yourself,” he admonished.

So, he saw this as a competition? You shook your head disparagingly. “Mikkel was a date that never went anywhere. Unlike your mystery woman,” you pointed out. “Happy now?”

His features relaxed, though he noted self-deprecatingly, “You could have a normal life with him.”

What he said confused you to no end, on the one hand indicating that it would be better to be with another man, yet at the same time not wanting you to.

“And what if I don’t want a normal life?” You retorted, backing away from Leon as you spoke, making it clear that the talk was over. “Listen, I don’t have time to argue with you about this. I’m needed backstage.”

“Hey, wait-”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. “You should go, Leon, before Silje sees you.” Leaving him with that piece of advice, you parted ways.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Back in the dressing room, you found yourself alone with Silje, who beamed at you with pride. “I knew you would pull through.”

Picking up a dark, champagne bottle by her side on the table, she tipped it into a flute glass, handing it over to you encouragingly. The sparkly liquid was mesmerizing, as if flecks of gold reflected along its surface. You’d never seen a color quite like it.

“It’s the most sought after one we have,” she articulated with an alluring timbre. “For special occasions.”

You took the glass, still enthralled by its contents, placing it to your lips as you drank the champagne unquestioningly. It tasted like a sweet nectar, warm and heady as it flowed down your throat and coursed through your veins. A brilliant light dazzled you and it felt like your body was vaporizing into the atmosphere. Then, you heard Silje’s voice in slow motion from the background, “Congratulations, my child…”

When you awoke, you found yourself back in your bed with no memory of how you got there. Your mind was reeling and you felt extremely groggy and unsteady, to the point where you were unable to shift yourself up to a sitting position on the mattress.

What on earth was in that drink? You wondered if you had taken too much by accident. Maybe Silje brought you home when you passed out.

Disregarding any further thoughts, you decided that it would be best to find sleep, as you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. But even within the throes of sleep you couldn’t find respite, because the dreams came soon after.

You were walking through darkened corridors. There was hardly any light source, except for a blue luminous sheen that coated every surface, as if you were on an alien planet. Feeling the concrete walls with your hands to guide the way, you eventually came to rest in front of a set of crimson doors. Leaning your entire weight against them, they screeched as you pushed them open, the force causing you to stumble into a room that was enveloped in a thick smog. The cover was so dense that you couldn’t see anything else beyond it and it was getting harder to breathe.

Gradually, you began to succumb to a sort of tranquil unconsciousness. Then, you found yourself lying on a cold, metallic surface, and each time you opened your eyes, you made out vague figures of medical staff surrounding you. Surgical instruments, petri dishes and test tubes lined the counters near the table. As you couldn’t hold your eyes open for long, the images appeared like vignettes. One of the staff members in scrubs inserted a strange device with a thin needle into your vagina. The frigidity of it caused you to wince, and you felt a light suction tugging at you from within. Once they had finished with the procedure, they whisked the fluids and material away. You couldn’t scream, you didn’t have an urge to - everything felt so comfortable and numb.

The next moment, you heard the distant wail of a baby that got closer and closer, until it seemed like it was directly at the side of your ear. Twisting your head in the source of the crying, a child-like silhouette covered in a substance resembling tar crawled on the ground towards you, squelching with each movement and leaving black imprints in its wake. There were remnants of an eye and tufts of hair peeking out from beneath the slimy substance. Despite its grotesque shape, you felt a sense of connection to it, wanting to reach out and embrace it in your arms. When it was only inches away from you, your eyes snapped shut and you faded into oblivion.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Rousing yourself out of a deep slumber, you were startled to find that you were back at the dressing room of the theater, where you had celebrated with Silje yesterday evening. You immediately checked under your clothes for any signs that you had been operated on against your will, but found none.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed out loud as panic set in. You were running late for the meeting between Leon and the scientist. It didn’t take much for you to put aside the weird dream you had the night before. After all, there were far more important things to worry about right now, and there was a logical explanation for what had happened. You probably went a little overboard with the drinking and then fell asleep at the theater. It wouldn’t have been the first time this had happened either. The company had a tendency to revel in successful premieres.

Rushing over to the location you had been given, you met Leon’s stern gaze as he got out of the car he had been waiting in outside of the abandoned warehouse. He tapped on the window, indicating for the driver to do a couple of rounds before heading back to avoid suspicion.

“Partied too hard?” He questioned snippily, while making his way inside the place.

You mumbled out a quick apology, following him from behind. He was probably still sore from how your exchange ended last night.

From afar, an older man with graying hair and spectacles peeked out from behind one of the rusty beams. Upon seeing you both, he stepped over nervously, wringing his hands.

“You got the papers?” He asked, his voice was raspy as if he had swallowed sandpaper.

“Mm hm,” Leon continued to advance towards him. “Card first.”

The man nodded, looking behind his shoulders anxiously before stretching out his hand with a slim, white keycard nestled in his palm. Leon swiped it from him, examining it briefly. Finding it satisfactory, he pressed a large brown envelope into the man’s chest.

“Your new ID. Ride’s outside.” Leon motioned to the entrance with his thumb.

“Uh- right, thanks.” The man hugged the envelope till it was slightly crushed against his body, still hesitant to move, like he had something else to say.

“Look, uh-” he stammered. “With every batch, there’s a fail-safe.” He whispered the last word as if he was afraid someone else would overhear him. “It should be marked with a red label.”

After that, he scampered off, while you waited patiently beside Leon. “So, what now?”

“I’ll worry about that.” His eyes softened as they trailed across your face, etching every mole, every contour and every line to his memory. “You just get home safe, ok?”

Would this be the final time you see him? Anything could happen when he tried to shut down the base, but you didn’t want to think about it. And even if everything went according to plan, you had outlived your purpose. He didn’t need you anymore. You would go your separate ways. A deal was a deal.

You thought back to the compromise you had made together that night at the smoky bar, as tears welled up in your eyes. Regardless of the pain he had caused you and your recent standoffish demeanor towards him, you couldn’t imagine the day would come where you’d have to say goodbye to him all over again.

He reached out, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, as you closed your eyes, causing the tears to splash down. Wiping them away with the back of his glove, he spoke again, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions, “I should go.”

“Not so fast.”

You heard the unmistakable sound of someone placing their finger on the trigger of a gun. Click.

Your eyes flew open. A slender woman in a red, full-length bodysuit and thigh high boots had appeared out of nowhere, aiming her handgun at Leon’s back. Your breath hitched, as you stood frozen on the spot. This was way out of your league and you prayed that he was coming up with some sort of tactic while she spoke.

“Didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon, Leon,” she hinted provocatively. “You never tire of babysitting duties, do you?” A husky laugh rang out across the space. “Or are you the one currently being babysat?”

“Hm, cute,” he huffed as he shifted his footing slightly, giving her a sidelong glance.

“Not a step closer,” she warned, adjusting her aim threateningly.

You looked between the two of them curiously, assessing the familiarity with which they greeted each other, even though their expressions were hardened and unrelenting. “You seem to know her well,” you discerned.

“Too well.”

Something in the tone of his voice gave it away, and like a winded blow to your gut, you suspected that this was the other woman that had been in his life in your absence.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

Now was definitely not the time to confront Leon with this information, but you couldn’t reign in that gnawing feeling in your stomach. You had to know.

When you saw the pang of remorse that flashed across his eyes briefly, you had your answer.

“I hate to break up this reunion, but you happen to have something I want.” Catching him off-guard, the woman swiftly closed the distance and threw a roundhouse kick to his neck, but he managed to block it, though staggering to the side a bit.

Immediately, he drew his combat knife from its sheath, swiping at her aggressively to push her away from you.

“Go!” He yelled back at you.

However, you stayed rooted to the ground, unwilling to desert him to fend for himself on his own, as well as hoping to learn more about this mysterious woman.

Soon, they turned the warehouse space into a makeshift battleground, entering into a dance of lethal exchanges. Twisting, striking, and dodging, their movements became a blur, as they attacked and countered each other with deadly precision. Occasionally, a stray bullet was fired and you recoiled, taking cover behind one of the dilapidated pillars.

Just as you thought that the two combatants had entered into a stalemate, Leon ended up dominating the fight with a strategic flick of his knife, so fast that you barely missed it, holding it to her throat as he snarled, “Who are you working for this time, Ada?”

Ada. The name echoed in your ears, foreign and unknown, yet growing more intimate by the minute. You stole another look at her from your hiding spot. She was confident, strong and beautiful - all the qualities that made her desirable in such a cutthroat world. And you somehow understood why a man like Leon would have fallen for her, even though there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“So predictable,” she scoffed. “Always asking the same questions you’ll never get the answers to.” Cocking her head, she jested, “Who do you think, handsome?”

A sense of disgust started to rise like bile within you. A mercenary. She had to be one. And Leon went for her like a lap dog.

“Cut the crap,” he growled.

However, he didn’t expect you to interfere. “A mercenary? Really, Leon?” You snorted in disbelief as you impulsively tread out into the open. “Didn’t think you would stoop that low.”

A low whistle broke out from Ada’s lips as Leon shot you a withering look, both annoyed and surprised that you were still here. “I’m handling this. You need to leave. Now!”

“No, I’m staying,” you contested. “I can’t trust you to do the right thing anymore.” Folding your arms, you regarded him with nothing but disdain. “All of this is going into my report.”

Ada appeared amused by your rebellious outburst. Whereas, Leon’s face contorted in a mixture of rage, hurt and incredulity, “This isn’t the time to-”

In his moment of distraction, Ada tackled him to the ground, kicking him in the face to stun him temporarily, before hooking on to an attachment with her grapple gun, swooping over to you in the blink of an eye. You hardly had any time to react as she wrangled your arms behind you into a lock and zip-tied your wrists together.

You knew it was due to your inability to get a hang over your emotions that led you into this vulnerable position, but some part of you didn’t care. There were so many things that had been weighing down on you, causing you to make reckless decisions.

Leon got to his feet cautiously, his face bruised and bleeding as he raised his hands up in surrender. You had never seen him look this torn up before. That’s when you felt the nuzzle of Ada’s gun poking at the temple of your head and you gasped audibly, suddenly aware of how close you were flitting to death.

“Ada, please.” He sounded almost like he was begging on his knees. “Leave her out of this.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Keycard, now,” she barked, gesturing for him to hand it over to her.

Holding the card up between his index and middle finger, he flung it over. It sliced through the air and landed in her grasp.

“Good boy.” She smiled in approval.

Leon stepped forward guardedly. “Let her go,” he demanded.

“The last I recall, you weren’t the one calling the shots,” she smirked, referencing how you had challenged his authority earlier.

Before he could respond, she fired at a weak spot in one of the precarious-looking beams from above him, causing a section of the ceiling to come tumbling down. You shouted at him to watch out, and he ducked out of the way, but was now trapped by a bunch of rubble.

“Think I’ll keep her with me for a while. She’ll be useful,” Ada remarked languidly, biding her time as if the battle had already been won.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” She winked at him, while he scrambled to break out of his confinement, hollering that he would come for you.

As you struggled, she pulled you in harshly to stop you, dragging you outside towards a vehicle parked at the corner of the building. Opening the car door to the passenger seat, she shoved you inside, warning you not to try anything funny. Hopping into the driver’s seat, she set off at breakneck speed.

“What do you want?” You asked vehemently, while at the same time attempting to maneuver your hands as discreetly as possible to reach your back pocket, where you usually kept Leon’s Swiss Army knife. However, the zip tie was proving to be a greater hindrance than you expected and you were failing with every endeavor.

She didn’t give an answer. Well, not the one you were looking for anyway.

“You seem to matter a lot to him,” she commented. “Interesting.”

“But he still loves you.” What you had been repressing for the past few days spilled out of you without a filter.

It was Ada’s turn to eye you with skepticism as she mocked sardonically, “Love? Oh please, don’t make me laugh.”

“He’s fun to play with.” She turned back to face the road and shrugged, but you noticed a subtle reflection of sorrow in her eyes. “Though perhaps more suited to a naive, little girl like you,” she added bitterly.

You figured that this ‘heart-to-heart’ had hit a raw nerve, and both Ada and Leon were hiding more than they were letting on. Sitting in silence, you wondered how much of what Leon had been telling you was true.

Ada’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, swerving the car around before coming to a screeching halt. “We’re here.”

As she let you out, she made sure that you were close in front of her, every now and then bumping the hilt of her gun as a reminder of who was in charge. You stared down at the looming theater over on the next block. It was eerily quiet like a ghost town, with not a soul in sight. On the street, a lone paper bag rustled in the wind. Where was everyone?

“Lead the way,” she ordered, and you began to walk.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #re4 leon #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

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padfootagain · 10 months

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The Last Ones on Earth (I)

Chapter 1: A Mission

Hi everyone! It’s me! Mrs. No-self-control! Here I come with a new series! The concept is simple: what if the Darkling was a little less alone…

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

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Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings for the series: mentions and depictions of violence and warfare, mentions of trauma

Warnings for the chapter: None

Summary: You and the Darkling are a team, even if no one knows it. Beyond being a team, you are the only one he trusts, and he's the only one you care about, and you're each other's true love. But if you've kept your secrets hidden for a long time, now that the Sun Summoner is fighting against you, it's time to reveal who you are, and what you are capable of...

Word Count: 5214

Masterlist for the series - The Darkling's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

It’s very dark outside, but that’s okay. You like it this way. After so many years spent by Aleksander’s side, you’re used to the shadows. You find comfort in them now.

You remember when you were a child - such a long, long time ago – you used to be afraid of the dark. You longed for daylight, moonlight, anything to pierce the black veil covering your world. You couldn’t see anything around you, the unknown was a scary place. You didn’t realize by then that the shadows were a hiding place. If you couldn’t see a thing, no one could see you either.

Besides, the dark was a place filled with stories of monsters and spells and evil creatures lurking in its midst. It was evil, against the goodness of light.

What a fool you were by then…

You’ve never gotten used to the sight of the Fold. You should have, it’s been here for such a long time now. Still, you struggle with the view of it as you stare at the darkness by the window: the sharp edges of its unpalpable wall, the shouts that struggle to get out of it, to escape.

It’s a prison, in a way. You want to make it a key towards freedom…

“Are you certain that this is a good idea?”

Aleksander’s voice is deeper than usual; low and cold but you know him enough to identify the worry that’s there too. He sounds almost afraid. You know he’s terrified, actually.

It’s a rare emotion to hear in his voice, and you turn to look at him at the sound. He’s standing in the middle of the room, gaze lost on a map splayed on the table at the centre. You know he doesn’t see any of the lines, any of the names or letters traced in black ink. The light is too low, only a torch and the fireplace, painting strange shapes in red and gold over the furniture, the walls, his tall frame…

You walk across the room, steps slow and measured, trying to be quiet, as if not to scare him away. As if he could ever walk away from you…

You don’t speak until you’re standing by his side. You lean against the table, your back against the wooden furniture, so you can stare at him. He doesn’t turn his black eyes towards you though. He’s too lost in thought, or perhaps he’s fleeing your gaze. You’re not sure. It doesn’t really matter, anyway.

“We don’t have a choice,” you speak in a soothing voice, crossing your arms before your chest. “They won’t let you go anywhere near Alina. But they don’t know who I am. We know they’ve taken Genya and David in. Probably others too. They could want to take me in too. I can try and get closer, close enough to talk with her.”

“And if you can’t convince her?”

“It doesn’t matter. It will give you time to access Keramzin undetected. And I’ll make sure she joins us, whether she likes it or not.”

“She will try to kill you.”

You notice the way his fits clench by his side, so tightly you’re pretty sure it hurts. His knuckles have gone ivory with the strength of his gesture, even if his voice didn’t falter. You reach for his hand, and he lets you slip your fingers between his.

After all this time, it still feels the same. The rush of his amplifying powers coursing through your veins. The callous pads of his fingers brushing against your knuckles and sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his palm soothing you, making your heart skip a beat…

You know he feels the same. You see it in the way his hold on your hand is tender, in the way his shoulders drop ever so slightly, in the way his gaze shifts in your direction, without looking at you. He’s averting his gaze still. It’s alright. You’re used to it.

“I’ve survived more perilous situations.”

“Because I was here.”

“Don’t take all the merit. I’m incredible.”

He lets out a shaky breath, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. There was a time when he would have offered you a full laughter at that remark. It was a long time ago, when you were young, and too naïve for this world. When you still believed there was a peaceful way out of all this…

“I will be cautious,” you tell him, and your voice sounds like a promise, your tone makes him tighten his hold on your hand. “I will come back to you in one piece.”

“You’d better. Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

“I’m sure I should be terrified of the Darkling’s punishment, but I really am not.”

“You should be.”

You scoff at that.

“We’re alone, you know. No need to play the cold, tough guy with me. I’ve seen you cry before.”

“I’ll cut off your tongue if you tell anyone about this story.”

And his voice is icy, and firm, and serious, and anyone but you would have trembled before such a threatening tone. But not you.

You’re the only one he would never hurt in any way, and you know it. He could kill, torture, destroy, annihilate everything, the entirety of Ravka, of the world even. But not you. You could betray him, you could try to kill him, and he wouldn’t lift a finger to stop you. You’re the only one he wouldn’t punish, the only one he would forgive. You make him weak like that.

And he hates it. He hates it, but he needs this fragility, this one weakness. He must indulge it, he doesn’t have a choice. And you know it, you feel the same about him. That’s why you’re never afraid when he’s around, no matter what he does, no matter what he says. You trust him too much for that.

When he turns to you, at long last, he forces a tender smile to his lips.

“And throw it to a Volcra?” you ask, struggling not to smile too brightly.

“Or one of my nichevo’ya.”

“Of course, for a second I forgot your new minions.”

“You are not terribly fond of them…”

“I know how painful it is for you to summon them. Of course, I’m not fond of them. They’re efficient, though.”

You stare at each other for a while longer. In the hearth, the fire lets out cracking sighs. There’s an owl outside, somewhere, you hear it singing, the voice of a night at its fullest. There are voices in the corridor too, coming inside Aleksander’s room as shushed, barely there at all, only ghosts of other lives. Lives that will never be like yours, or Aleksander’s…

“I will have to tell Alina the truth, if I want to have a chance to convince her.”

Aleksander clenches his jaw.

“You shouldn’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’re beyond pondering about risks, I reckon.”

“Y/N…”

“I know what I’m doing. If I want to convince her, she needs to realise that this is not going to work. That none of it will ever work. We’ve tried it before, and it failed, because the world is not going to change, unless we burn it to the ground first. She needs to understand that.”

“I’ve tried to show her…”

“No, you’ve tried to lure her into trusting you too blindly to protest.”

“She’s a child. She will never understand…”

“Then we’ll get rid of her. She’s too dangerous alive if she’s not on our side.”

“On this, we agree.”

You heave a sigh, suddenly tired, as if the weight of many battles fought in the past was suddenly thrown onto your shoulders once more.

And he hates it. Aleksander hates seeing you like this, tired and almost broken. But then again, after all you’ve been through, how could you not be like this? He has lost himself too, along the way. He has lived too long to remain the same.

You’re disappointed for a second when he lets go of your hand, but it only lasts a moment. Instead of your fingers, he reaches to touch your cheek.

You’re the only one he has ever touched so gently, so slowly, so lovingly. He hates it, the power you have over him. But he has never had a choice.

It was always you. It still is. It will always be.

“I cannot lose you,” he whispers, and Aleksander wishes he could add an argument about how useful you are, to at least keep the illusion that he’s not so vulnerable, but what would be the point? After such a long time loving you, it would be of no use at all. “Please, be careful, my love.”

Your smile widens, you can’t help it. It would be dangerous for others to know who you truly are, just like no one can know who hides behind the image of the Darkling. It’s safer if the world doesn’t know about your relationship with Aleksander either.

The Darkling’s wife, that would put one hell of a target on your back. And it would make him unbearably vulnerable too.

That’s why these moments are so rare these days. The ones when he calls you sweet names, and touches you like this, and lets you get so close again. There was a time, long, long ago, when things weren’t so complicated, when you were together all the time, when all you both had to do was love each other. But that type of happiness didn’t last for long. You learnt that lesson the hard way.

You are both Grisha. You were never allowed to be happy. If you want happiness, you need to fight for it.

You lean into his touch, letting him cup your cheek, brush the pad of his thumb across your soft skin. You close your eyes for a second, enjoying the soft caress. You wish you could stay like this forever…

But when you open your eyes again, and fall into his dark eyes, you read too much fear into them to be fooled.

You are both Grisha. If you want happiness, you need to fight for it. And if it means that you must burn the entire world, until there’s no one else left, then so be it.

“I’ll come back to you. I always do. I always will,” you promise him, resting your hand against his heart, feeling its steady beat, the rhythm that matches the one under your own ribs, the rhythm that belongs to you.

He nods, and you can’t help but step into his embrace, but hold onto him as tightly as you can. It takes him a moment to reciprocate the gesture, but he does. He kisses your forehead, sweet and tender and a little desperate.

“Be careful too,” you admonish. “I’ll meet you at the Little Palace.”

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth,” he whispers into your skin, eyes closed, his voice a mantra you’ve both been repeating for years, so many years… It’s almost a prayer.

And you pray too, you pray even if you don’t believe in Saints. You know who they really were: Grisha slaughtered and brought into legends.

What an irony, to idolize the most hated people of this world…

You breathe in deeply his scent: woollen kafta, a bit of leather, something cold like a wintery night. Home.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and that’s the safest you’ve felt in a while. When you answer him, your voice is firm, unfaltering. A promise, just like a vow.

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth.”

You leave before dawn, it’s safer that way.

You know Aleksander is watching you leave through the cracked windowpane of the room he’s taken as his own, in the deserted house where the Grisha have now taken refuge. You take one last look at the wagon that arrived the previous evening. There are still traces of blood darkening the wood.

Twelve Grisha rescued from a town nearby. Encaged. Beaten almost to death. They were to be killed without much of a trial or any type of mercy. Their crime was existing.

You are used to it by now, but you wish you weren’t. You wish it could still surprise you, that you could still be aghast by the cruelty of it. But you aren’t, not anymore, not after witnessing it again, and again, and again.

It will always happen. You’ve lost your hope for a better world made with peace and harmony a long time ago. You are not so naïve anymore. Instead, you’ve learnt how to kill.

You have a long journey ahead, at least three days of riding before reaching the last-known location of Alina and Nikolai Lantsov, along with their little group. It’s safer if you travel alone, no one will recognize you without your kefta, no one has ever paid enough attention to you for that, anyway. Besides, you’re strong enough to defend yourself. No, you are not worried about the journey that awaits you, you are worried about the negotiations that will follow.

You’ve almost guided your horse outside the lands attached to the mansion, and you can’t help but take one last look over your shoulder. Beyond the large house stands the infinite wall of the Fold. It stretches up to the heavens, loses its tip into the clouds, you wonder if it has any end. From here, it only looks like a dark void: ominous, unforgiveable. It is splayed in both directions too, from South to North, as far as the eye can see.

You can feel Aleksander’s stare upon your frame, and your eyes drift down from the Fold to its creator, to his motionless shape by the window of his room. He won’t move, won’t acknowledge your presence any other way than by staring at you as you leave. You shoot him a smile anyway.

He’s grateful for it. If he never sees you again, at least he’ll have the memory of one more of your smiles…

Ten months earlier

The Little Palace

You had not seen Aleksander in a while.

It wasn’t that surprising, with the new Sun Summoner taking up an awful lot of space and air. She enjoyed complaining too much. She also enjoyed thinking she was righteous. Maybe she was. More than you, at the very least, without a doubt.

You had not seen Aleksander in a while, and so you were surprised when he called for you, sending Ivan to look for you and bring you to his war room. You bid David a good night, leaving behind your messy desk on which you worked on some gloves to help Alina control her powers. A waste of time and energy, in your opinion, but maybe there was a tinge of jealousy that blurred your judgement when it came to her.

You followed Ivan, trying to control your heartbeat into a steady rhythm, so that the Heartrender would not notice how excited you were at the prospect of seeing the Darkling. No one in the Little Palace knew how close the two of you were, and it was better if it remained that way. It could endanger more secrets, some darker and more dangerous than a hidden love story.

Lucky for you, you had been playing this political game for a long time now. You were used to controlling your own heart. And even if Ivan was a talented Heartrender, he couldn’t sense any change in your heartbeat as you advanced towards the door of the War Room, the Darkling’s symbol of a moon in eclipse engraved on its surface.

He opened the door for you, and let you walk inside.

The Darkling was leaning above the giant map set in the middle of the room, lost in thought, considering the next movements of his own troops. He was alone, wearing his usual black kefta although you noticed that his hair was a little dishevelled after a long day. It was nighttime, after all. Dinner had passed, and with it, most Grisha in the Little Palace had gone to sleep, before a new day filled with training and work would arise. Outside, stars were shining brightly, you could guess the blurred shape of their light through the windows on the opposite side of the room.

The Darkling didn’t look up as you stepped inside, didn’t acknowledge you at all.

“Thank you, Ivan. Leave us.”

The Heartrender gave a small bow, almost a mere nod, before turning on his heels and walking outside the room without a word, closing the door behind him. You moved your hands in a quick, circular movement to lock the door.

You relaxed as soon as you were safely alone with the Darkling. Although, he was still hunched over his map as you turned to him again.

He seemed worried, his brow bearing a frown that traced lines across his forehead and at the edges of his eyes. You heaved a sigh.

“You do know that even the General of the Second Army needs to sleep every once in a while, right?” you ask, crossing your arms before your chest.

Your tone was both teasing and admonishing, and Aleksander closed his eyes at the sound.

He had missed you. Saints, he had missed you so much over the past three months. But seeing you alone was too risky for a while. Now though, with your work for Alina’s gloves, he had a perfect opportunity to require your presence, alone.

At last, he stood straighter again, looking up to catch your eyes with his black ones. He tilted his head to the side a little.

“Do I look so tired?”

“You look exhausted.”

“You don’t look so rested yourself.”

You smiled at that, and he noticed the tears that shone in your eyes. He tried not to feel happy about the sight, but he did. You had missed him too… even after all this time, you still missed him…

“Lots of things going on. Lots of things to worry about,” you answered, shrugging. “Doesn’t help that I’m working way too much because of your stupid gloves. You know how grumpy that makes me if I don’t get my beauty sleep.”

He chuckled.

“And how many years have passed since you’ve had one of those peaceful nights?”

You didn’t answer at first. Before that, you took off the leather gloves that you always wore. He was the only one who got to see you like this, with your last bit of armour, of disguise, resting on his table. You were fully yourself before him.

“Two.”

He frowned, searching through his memory. Two years…

He smiled as he figured it out.

“Our journey to Ketterdam?”

“We had a couple of days free then. It was nice.”

“We spent all of those days in bed…” he gave you a smirk, a dangerous glint in his eyes that you recognized, and that made your heart skip a beat, like it always did.

“That’s what I’m saying. Despite your unbearable snoring, I still had plenty of time to rest.”

He laughed at that. It wasn’t one of his bright ones, the ones he used to give you when you met, when you tried to have a life together. But it was a laugh all the same, and you welcomed the sound of it, tried to carve it into a memory.

But too soon, the sound vanished, failing into the air, replaced by the cracking of the fire in the hearth, the soft sound of his breathing, the regular ticking of a clock. There was no sound coming from outside the room, and no word spoken inside could escape either. You were an amazingly skilled Durast, after all. You had prepared, in secret, long ago, some materials only known to you that could absorb sounds.

No eavesdroppers. Aleksander and you could talk without fear.

He clenched his jaw, straightening his posture a little. Coming into a commanding stand.

“There is much to discuss though,” spoke the Darkling in a cold voice. “We don’t have much time…”

But you didn’t let him finish. Instead, you crossed the room, and rushed into his arms.

Aleksander’s arms…

“Y/N… we need…”

“Shut up. We’ll discuss everything you want. But give us five minutes. Just five minutes to be ourselves. Please, darling.”

You felt him tremble under your touch as you called him by this sweet name. Both of you were too used to act distant, like strangers. It was good to be reminded that you were so much more than that.

At last, he wrapped his arms around you, an embrace strong, comforting, safe. Arms that had never failed to protect you, no matter what the world had tried to destroy you both…

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, your voice more fragile than you intended for it to be, but you couldn’t find a way to care.

You closed your eyes, breathed deeply his scent. The wool of his kefta, a tinge of leather, something cold during starless nights.

Home.

“I’ve missed you as well, my love,” he whispered in your hair, brushing his cheek against your temple, his beard tickling you in a delightful way.

The skin-on-skin contact made the rush of his amplifying abilities course through your veins, but it wasn’t what sent electricity travel across your spine. It was because of the hand he slipped to the back of your head, to press you closer to him, to keep you right there, tugged into the crook of his neck.

You remained motionless for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence, in each other’s warmth, in the safety of an embrace you had shared thousands of times, so familiar and missed as soon as it was broken.

“Are you sleeping at all these days, darling?” he asked in a soft, tender voice that almost sounded like it wasn’t his own anymore, after banishing it for so long.

You nodded, even if it was almost a lie.

“Just not enough,” you reassured him.

“Nightmares?”

“Sometimes. I’m genuinely busy though.”

“I wish I could tell you to get more rest, but time is working against us.”

“I know. It’s okay. You look exhausted too.”

“I am, but that’s not the point. I think I’ve found the stag, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, not breaking your embrace just yet, but frowning hard.

“Are you certain?”

“Not entirely, but it seems promising. Trackers seem to have found it in Fjerda, near the border.”

“Saints…”

“I know. I doubt it is a coincidence that we finally find Morozova’s amplifier when the Sun Summoner appears out of nowhere.”

You nodded, turning to the map to let him show you where the stag was spotted. He went on for a while about that, explaining you the whole situation in details.

It wasn’t the only thing he wanted to discuss with you, though, and you knew it. You knew him to well to be fooled.

“So, what will you do about Alina?”

You noticed that he was tensing. You felt almost guilty for enjoying this sight of discomfort. But then again, he never tensed, not unintentionally, except in your presence. He could let his guard down with you, he trusted you enough for that.

“You know what I’ve been doing about Alina,” he deadpanned.

“I know. You’ve tried to seduce her.”

“And I am certain that you hate it.”

“You’re my husband. Of course, I hate,” you scoffed.

“It will not go as far as sex, if it is what worries you.”

“Have you kissed her?”

He intensely stared at you.

“Not yet.”

“You’re planning on going that far?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet. We’ll see.”

Slowly, you nodded, and he hated that look on your face. A mix of rage, of pain, of an anger you tried to suppress because you knew why he was doing this, and you would have been ready to go that far too, without a hesitation.

Still, he understood your reaction. He would have killed the person you needed to seduce instead of letting you play that game.

But you were more rational than him, if not more patient. You wouldn’t strangle Alina in her sleep. Instead, you merely glowered at him.

“I don’t like it. It won’t work,” you mumbled.

“She’s falling for me, already.”

“How did you do it?”

“With the truth. That no one else she knows can understand her. That she will live a thousand lives and everyone else will wither and die. Except for me. I’m her only chance with eternity.”

“I see. Nicely done, I have to admit.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Do you think it will be enough to make her agree to all of this? To use the Fold against Ravka, Fjerda and Shu Han? To kill the king?”

“I don’t know yet. But I don’t see any other way to secure her power on our side. She must believe that she depends on me. Or else, why would she help us at all?”

“What if we told her the truth?”

“The truth?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “Since when are you so naïve?”

“I highly doubt Alina will agree to destroy entire villages, slaughter populations, and draw the world she knows into chaos just for your pretty eyes. Sorry for your charms, but a crush won’t be enough for that. She won’t accept to take over Ravka if she doesn’t realize that this is the only way for us to ensure that Grisha will find peace.”

“You overestimate her intelligence.”

“And you underestimate her stupidity. She is still naïve. She’s a child, Aleksander. At her age, did you believe something as terrifying as the Fold was the only way towards peace?”

He didn’t answer, he merely stared at you instead. You were right, of course. Like always. He knew it was the only way, but Alina didn’t. She had not suffered nearly enough for that. But the two of you?

You had so many years of practice with suffering…

“I have never played with pity, I will not start today,” he spoke with too much pride, and you both knew it.

“But breaking my heart by seducing a stupid girl is perfectly fine to your standards, I see…”

“Y/N…”

“I know that you’re doing this to reach our goal. I understand. It doesn’t mean I have to like it. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to rip her tongue out every time she talks about you.”

His gaze softened, and he held out his hand for you to take, palm up, inviting you into what you knew would turn into an embrace.

“My love, there was never anyone else for me,” he let out in a breath, a tender smile on his lips. “There will never be. But we need Alina Starkov, if we want to have this peaceful life we have always longed for.”

But you shook your head at that.

“You want power now. More than this quiet life we dreamed about at first.”

His hand trembled, faltered, but didn’t disappear. He kept his offering up, hoping you would take it, the way you had always taken it before.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I’m too angry. I’ve lost too much to want more than revenge now. But beyond it, I still want this safe life with you. The one we have always dreamt about. I want all Grisha to have it too. I won’t deny I’m thirsty for power now, that I’ve left morality behind a long time ago. You know when I abandoned it. I abandoned it the day you died.”

“Almost…”

“You were dead, Y/N. No matter how you want to call it today, you died for several minutes that day. I will never forgive them for that. And I never want to have to feel this way again. If I need to do the most atrocious things to protect you, to protect us, then so be it. I am tired of depending on stupid kings, I want the throne. I want the throne so I can make my own rules and make sure that no one is stronger than me. That there is no one against whom I will not be able to protect you.”

There was also a selfish part of him that longed for power out of pure greed, you could see it in his burning gaze. But you also knew that he was earnest when he spoke such words. He was doing it for himself, but he was also doing it for you, and he was doing it for all Grisha too. There was a time when the Grisha were the most important element, then it was you, and now, maybe it was him. It didn’t really matter. The truth was that he would never act against the interest of the Grisha, and against your safety.

His soul had darkened along the years, like his shadows. But it was still him, looking out through these black irises. The same man you had always loved.

You slipped your hand in his, holding tight, and he reciprocated your gesture in a firm, certain squeeze. Steady. Infinite. A silent promise that he would do all that it would take.

“Seduce Alina, if you think it’s the best way to make her yield,” you spoke at last, holding his stare, your voice firm and decisive. “But don’t sleep with her.”

“It won’t go that far. I won’t need to.”

“Very well, then. Do what you have to.”

“Are you angry?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be. You’ll have to leave in just a few minutes. And then, I don’t know when I’ll have a good excuse to talk to you alone again. I want to see my beloved wife smile one last time before she needs to leave…”

You snorted at that.

“I’m not Alina Starkov. I don’t fall for cheap lines like that.”

“What about the truth, then?”

He reached up with his free hand to cup your cheek, move his fingers across the soft skin, trace the outline of your jaw with his fingertips…

You could barely breathe at all, and neither could he. His gaze had grown softer, much softer. The way it used to be, a long time ago, when you were still naïve…

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, vulnerable and almost begging for safety. “I always will. There is only us. It will always be just us.”

You nodded, tears shining in your eyes, before you leaned up to kiss him, and he met you halfway. Your lips met and danced in movements you had repeated thousands of times, but they still felt the same. Passionate, reassuring, loving, dependant, desperate…

“I love you too, Aleks,” you whispered against his mouth, right before he leaned in again, deepening the kiss quickly this time.

You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, safely held in his arms. None of you truly cared. All you knew was that when you pulled away at last, it was to whisper against his lips this promise you had made a long, long time ago. Vows that neither of you would ever break.

“Until we’re the last ones of Earth…”

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

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

#the darkling #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling fanfic #aleksander x reader #aleksander x y/n #aleksander morozova #the darkling series #grishaverse #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse series #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #series

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royalsweetteaa · 2 years

Text

Timeless lovin’ - Pt. 1

Pairing: 40s/CATFA!Steve Rogers x present!reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - The following story contains: explicit smut (not in this chapter), angst, fluff, developing feelings/slow burn, spoilers, alternative reality.

Pt. | 1 | 2 | 3 |

Summary: Steve left for Peggy in the past, and you were determined to travel back in time and get answers after he left your relationship of 4 years behind him just like that. You get a little ahead of yourself and travel past where your Steve left off, and you meet Steve Rogers, - the man before he hit the ice and was frozen for 70 years.

Second person POV

Steve and you met each other through S.H.I.E.L.D. You first became familiar in 2014 when you became an agent for the agency. Steve worked as a counter-terrorist operative and was frequently put up on extreme missions which required the super soldier. You were in contrast put on easier but secretive missions, those of which required gathering information from anti forces of the U.S. government.

You were both too busy to exchange conversations, but you acknowledged each other with passing greetings. You had always thought Captain America was an admirable man, and you highly respected him. He seemed to have respect for you too, but he was known for having a big heart, and you knew it was anything but exclusive.

In 2015, when Steve was sent on less missions, he engaged in full conversations with you as you also became more available. There was of course the Ultron attack, but apart from that, crimes were quiet at this time around. You were moved over to writing reports at your office of the few missions that were in action. Steve would come by to ask about your well being, and sometimes drop a coffee off at your desk, - being the considerate man he was. A noticeable sexual tension was growing between you two with the way you would talk to each other, but neither of you acted upon it as it wasn’t deemed appropriate at the time. You sometimes wish you did.

Captain America disappeared from the face of the earth one day as a conflict had erupted between him and Iron Man, - also known as the civil war. He went undercover for 2 years without a word from him. You missed him a lot in that duration of time. It took a long time to get used to not having him pop in for a visit and greet you with coffee, just the way you liked it. Everything was as if he never existed, and you eventually accepted things would be that way until he shows up again, - or never.

Then another unthinkable happened in 2018 when half of the population were erased by Thanos. You were all put in a dark place, one that sought comfort from each other. Steve reached out to you at your office after years of not seeing each other, and a need to show more than just friendly kindness became an urge.

What started with desperate kisses and touches turned into rough sex, with you bent over your own office desk with Steve’s cock being thrusted inside of your cunt from behind. He wasn’t shy at all to test the grounds of fucking you, and you couldn’t say you minded with how good it felt to finally have a euphoric release after feeling down for some time.

The next four years would be the best ones of your life despite what would otherwise be the worst ones for many others. You officially became a couple, with Steve asking you out to a first date. One date turned into many, and you soon moved in together. He proposed to you two years into your relationship, and of course you said yes.

You retired as a SHIELD agent and became an office worker instead. Steve worked at several departments to help and restore damages that had been inflicted in the city due to the snap.

Steve had lost so much, but he had told you that he was still able to move on because you were there. You had become his everything. You were a reason for him to keep going. He showed how much you meant to him through his affection and the intimate moments you had. He put so many words perfectly together and made your heart melt with every sweet thing he said to you.

“You’re my doll. I’ll never leave your side, love.”

That used to settle it in your head that you would grow old with him. That you would soon marry, have kids and live the perfect family life, something you both had expressed wanting.

Little did you know at the time that he would do the opposite of what he had promised.

“Steve, I don’t know how I feel about this mission…” you shared when Steve brought up the plan the remaining Avengers had put together of traveling back in time to restore their failure and bring back half of the population that were lost.

“Love, I know you’re scared…I’m nervous about the mission too. But we need to try. We have planned this for a very long time now and you need to trust me when I say everything will work out accordingly to our plan. It’s not going to be like how it went last time. That was our last time failing. We will make everything right.”

Steve reassured, and kissed the top of your head as he stood by the door.

“Once I’m back, we’re getting married, love.” He huskily whispered the promise, and kissed the hand where your ring rested on your finger. “I love you.”

Those three words would be the last thing you heard from him before he left to the Avenger headquarters to go through with the mission.

48 hours later, and Steve had proved you right. It became world news within seconds that the people who were lost 5 years ago were now back and that Thanos had been defeated.

You remember being absolutely thrilled. You were so proud of Steve and the Avengers for managing the impossible. You were given an update from Scott through text that Captain America was doing alright, and that he would need a few days recovery before he could return home.

No one ever informed you about Steve’s second mission of returning the infinity stones to the past.

It was too late when you a week later asked about him and learned he never returned to the present.

2 years later…..

“Okay, so here’s the thing…—“ Bruce started, “The pym particles I have are not completely legit. They are clones produced by Dr. Strange’s sorcery and my knowledge in their substance, and while they match the substances they contain, the outcome from using them might not be completely the same.” He said, and picked one up to showcase you.

You narrowed an eye as you took the one Bruce held up, studying it with interest. “Do you know what kind of different outcome it may give if I use them?”

“Nothing too crazy, just simple things like, - specification of time traveling and whereabouts. You might not get to your chosen destination or year, so you’ll have to be more considerate and prepare for the unexpected.” Bruce hypothesized.

You were positive of going through with time traveling, even with the risks of having a harder time finding Steve. While this could be counted as one of your most challenging missions, you were up to the task.

“You’re still taking a risk though. This isn’t going to be like when we time travelled to get all the time stones where we were able to to go to a specific time and day. You will be sent to an unspecified year and place to your chosen time period. Not to mention we don’t even know where our Steve time travelled and continued his life, -“

“- It doesn’t matter.” You interrupted. “We know he left off for Peggy, so it must mean he left anywhere between Second World War to the beginning of the Cold War anyway. If I have to put my bets, I’ll guess he went back to the earliest time possible to continue his past life and relationship with Peggy. It’s not a big deal if I show up years later after he arrived there as long as I get to talk to him.” You said.

“Alright. If you’re sure about this, I won’t stop you. You have an extra pym particle, so if anything goes wrong, you just need to come back.” Bruce said, more so in question as he narrowed his eye at you.

“Of course, of course.” You reassured. “I just need to do this. It’s been 2 years and nothing has changed. I haven’t come to peace with the terms and I think a good talk and a screaming session with him will give me just that. I need answers. I know it’s pathetic, but honestly can you blame me?”

“I really don’t, Y/N. It was a shocker for all of us that he left behind his life here when he had said so himself that he had come to like it. I don’t know why he came to make that choice, but regardless it wasn’t fair on you. I totally get it.” Bruce sympathized, which made you quirk a smile.

All this time you thought you were insanse for not being able to leave Steve behind. People advised you to move on, and you tried. You went on dates and met new people all the time, but no matter how much you tried to move forward, you were held back by so many questions. Questions that haunted you and made you cry yourself to sleep as you went down memory lane, trying to find a single moment that you should have picked up on to know your relationship with Steve wasn’t everlasting.

But you couldn’t find a single one.

Why? Why did he leave?

What did I do wrong?

Wasn’t I enough?

Was our love ever real?

You didn’t know anymore about the last one. You couldn’t count all the times he had told you he loved you. He reminded you each time he came back from a mission, each time you woke up in bed beside him, each time you made love.

He had you on a chokehold, and he wasn’t there to release his hands on you.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Banner rummaging through something in the storage closet.

“You can’t leave without some real useful gadgets. Here,” He put it on the table and gestured you to open up the safe.

You opened it up cautiously, only to find several cubes slotted safely in the protection cushion. Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“What are these?” You asked, as you picked one up, surprised at how heavy it was.

“These are nanotechnological gadgets. They take forms as these tiny cubes until activated. The one you’re holding right there is a jet pack. Could be quite useful if you have to travel by far.” He explained. He then carefully picked up an earpiece with his hulk hands, “All you gotta do is wear this which is connected to all of them and call out after its given name, ‘Genesis’, for an activation.”

You nodded and took the earpiece into your ear. You looked into the little mirror on the table and saw that it suddenly shifted colour to match your own skin colour. You gasped, impressed by how well it blended. It was as if it wasn’t there.

Bruce laughed, “Isn’t that neat? That’s some ‘James Bond’ stuff right there. Another bonus is even if you loose them, they’ll transport themselves over to your location if you give that order. You can figure out what the rest of these are for by yourself.” He pointed at the other cubes and closed the safe. “Think it’ll be more fun for you that way.”

You chuckled, before a thought came to mind as you realized the suitcase was under the Stark industries trademark. “These were Mr. Stark’s though, weren’t they?…I couldn’t possibly take them.”

“It’s cool, I took part in creating these. I’m sure if he was still here with us right now, he’d lend one of his iron suits. Unfortunately I don’t have access to those as they are under Pepper’s name and all. I can only offer the things I have in the lab.” He said with an apologetic shrug.

Your eyes widened and you immediately shook your head, “Oh, no these will absolutely do! Thank you so much Bruce! I owe you a big one.”

He laughed. “Sure thing, kid. Now, let’s get started on this time traveling so you can kick America’s ass.”

You were up on the Time Heist machine with the safe and a backpack full of essentials, giving Bruce a final wave goodbye before you were swirled into the quantum realm for a nanosecond and into the past.

You were suddenly in an empty street corner of what you could presume was somewhere downtown New York. The town looked like it was in its fetus stage as you made your way to the Main Street, with barely any skyscrapers coming to view.

The team suit transformed and gave you conservative clothing, one that could pass as casual for women to wear during the 40s to 50s. There were young boys running around, selling the newest flyer to the curious adults, and posters promoting drafting were hung up on every light pole.

For some reason, you weren’t receiving any data of what time you had appeared in, but you could only guess it was the mid 40s based on your current surroundings.

Nervously you met the eyes of busy women and men who you passed by, not being mentally prepared for the social aspects of being in a time period of which your grandparents were probably living their early years of their youth. You were already feeling uncanny from knowing how out of place you were, but you could only remind yourself that this was just a quick visit to give Steve a piece of your mind.

“Genesis, I would like to have access of all governmental archives mentioning Steve’s proximities at this current time period.”

Genesis gave you multiple suggestions, but the primarily suspected location of Steve’s current whereabouts was a military base in Port Jervis.

2 and a half hour train ride? Not bad at all.

It sounded a lot better than using the jet pack, especially when other options were available.

You walked in a phone booth and unlocked the safe, reading through the functions to find what you were looking for.

“Genesis, I’d like to unlock the printer and print 20 US dollars and a fake ID card registered under military record, please.”

“Amy Preston from Newsburgh military base, is that right?” You nodded in response to the soldier who was checking your ID by the gate of Port Jervis military base. “What brings you here?” He asked.

“I have a couple of errands to run in connection with the mission in planning, sir.” You explained, as you straightened your military uniform and rested your elbows on the front desk. “The Howling commandos will be sent to Italy to infiltrate Hydra bases, and we may have some input of several coordinations which suggests where else they are hiding.” You reached out the documents which were actually accurate future knowledge.

You could tell the soldier was anything but focused on the papers though as he eyed your breasts through your clothes which you were firmly squeezing together to give off your sex appeal.

He cleared his throat and only took a few glances at the papers before returning them to you. “Alright ma’am, you may pass. Hope you have a pleasant stay with us while you’re here.” He said smugly, and winked at you before you carried on. You could only fake a smile until he was out of sight, your face pulling one of disgust.

The base was large, reaching as far as up to a hill. Vehicles were creating a traffic by the gate with several soldiers sitting on the open back trunks.

Some whistled at you as you walked past them, but you could care less of giving them your time of day. Your eyes scanned the area with interest for the one man you were looking for.

You walked around for a good half an hour, sneaking into tents to see if any of the men in there were Steve, but you had no such luck of spotting him. Then, as you walked though the weapon supplies area, a familiar face came to view. You saw Dum Dum Dogan talking to a fellow soldier, the man who after Steve’s presumed death would become the new leader of the Howling commandos. He was one of Steve’s close friends during the war. He had told you as such himself.

He has to be somewhere close then.

You reached the corner of a huge tent, and that was when you halted your steps. You had found him.

There he was. Carrying on with his duties as if he had never been frozen in ice for 70 years, become a beloved hero of the 21st century and captured your heart, promising a future as lovers only to break it and leave you behind.

He stood there, talking to Jim Morita, yet another one of his soldier buddies with what looked like a map as they were discussing something.

Your head boiled with fury, the sight of him alone making you want to scream your heart out.

I might just do that actually, You thought.

Fuck it.

“Steven Grant Rogers, — you piece of absolute garbage!” You called out after him, saying his name with pure venom.

Steve immediately turned to where his name had been called, completely dumbfounded as you stormed towards him, your steps firm as you kept your form tall and straight. The soldier excused himself and walked away, leaving more privacy to whatever this would be about.

“You really thought it would be this easy, didn’t you? That you could leave your girlfriend of 4 fucking years without as much as a goodbye? An explanation? An apology?” You spat at his face.

“Pardon, ma’am, I don’t think I follow -“

“Oh, shut up and cut the bullshit! You left me! Without a word! How could you?!” You shouted, your face flaring up with the pent up anger you had waited to release on him for 2 years. “You left for another woman who you hadn’t seen for decades and you thought I’d be okay with it? Because I’ll have you know I was not and am still not over what you did to me! After everything we’ve been through together, and you left it all, — like it meant nothing! Fuck You!”

Soldiers around the area were subtly following the the interaction from afar, some even snickering as the Captain was being told off by some woman who they could only assume was one of his many fangirls making a fit.

Steve looked around, embarrassed and confused as he sighed and said, “Please refrain from using that kind of language, there’s really no need to cuss at me when I don’t even know you. You must be mistaking me for someone else... ”

You saw Steve swallow, clearly getting agitated from your confrontation. You frowned at his mannerism. What was up with him?

Steve usually never showed nervousness and was good at keeping his composure.

You blinked, “What do you mean?….You really don’t know who I am?”

“No, I really don’t…no offense of course, but I’m pretty sure I would remember the face of my own girlfriend, - since that’s what you claimed to be earlier anyway…” he said with a sheepish smile.

You were frozen with disbelief.

“What month and year is it?”

“November, 1944, ma’am. Why?”

Wait…

Wait a moment…

Oh shit.

“So you don’t -…you aren’t my…”

You didn’t even want to complete that sentence as you knew there was no use. This was in fact not your Steve. You hadn’t considered how it wouldn’t be convenient for Steve to go in a time where his past self was still living.

Steve must have obviously travelled back after his past self got trapped in the Arctic. And now your last chance of having a talk with your Steve was put on a major stall because the time machine decided to be a real ass and send you the year before past Steve goes missing in the Arctic.

Actually it wasn’t technically in a year’s time, but 4 months since Steve would go on that mission and land the Hydra ship in February of 1945, 7 months before the war ends, - but still.

You had no idea at how long of a time you would have to wait for him regardless. You were internally having a meltdown, all the while Steve was standing there, not sure of what to make out of the whole interaction.

“Ma’am?…Are you feeling okay?” Steve asked with worry, his face tilted as he studied your empty expression.

You gulped and slowly nodded your head. “Erm…yeah, I’m fine…I just…” you shook your head dismissively as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Actually, no. I’m not fine. At all. This is so bad. Worst part is I can’t even talk to you about it because you, - you don’t even know me yet. You don’t, - shit.” You cursed as tears were building up in your eyes.

You looked away as you began taking a few steps back, not wanting to showcase the misery you have kept in for so long and weren’t able to release because the right man wasn’t in front of you.

“Hey, don’t cry…I’m sure whatever you’re going through, you’ll find a way to solve it…” Steve tried to console as best as he could. He had frowned at the part where you had mentioned you couldn’t tell him because he didn’t know you ‘yet’, which left him to assume you were having a mental breakdown, or was simply confused.

Meanwhile in your mind, you were thinking of what you should do. You were figuring out how you were going to make this whole mission worthwhile, - if maybe you should tell him everything so you could get answers from him. After all, you were talking to the Steve who had fresh memories of the woman who he apparently loved more than you.

He was still Steve, but yet it didn’t feel right to put the heat on him as he had none of the experiences your Steve had. You felt stuck.

40s Steve POV

The woman’s lack of response in contrast to when she first came up to me left me concerned. My first assumption was she had some kind of mental illness. I couldn’t make any sense of what she had said to me, apart from knowing my full name.

“Ma’am, if you’d let me, I’ll take you to get help from the medical committee. It’s at the center of this base, -“

“I’m not sick, Steve!” She interrupted with frustration.

I flinched, not expecting for her to go full volume with her voice again.

“I-I apologize, I didn’t mean to insinuate you were…” I stuttered, and looked around again to see eyes were still on us from a distance. “Look, if you’d like to talk, we should maybe move somewhere else more…private. I would appreciate not attracting a crowd…”

She sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment before she nodded in agreement. “Let’s.”

I took her with me to an unoccupied office where we could have a private talk about whatever she wanted to tell me. Her face maintained a pondering look, as if she was thinking about how to put words into sentences.

I could already tell I was in for more confusion.

“I came here to talk to you, but not you. I don’t, - I’m not sure how and if I should explain it…you’re not my Steve Rogers.” She said the last part in a whisper, but I heard it very clearly due to my enhanced hearing.

This dame is absolutely out of her mind, I thought.

“Then let’s begin with me pointing something out. You’re dressed in uniform, but you’re clearly not from our base. You’re missing a Howling commando pin on both sides of your suit. In fact, I don’t think you work for the military at all considering you’re missing a US star patch on your right arm.”

I didn’t miss the way she cursed under her breath as she looked up again to respond. “I had it on when I dressed up,…guess it was by pure luck I got in. I’m not surprised though. That soldier by the gate was practically checking me out.”

I didn’t expect her to be humorous, and she earned a chuckle from me as I wasn’t too surprised to hear that. Many soldiers were unfortunately too distracted in their male gaze.

“Of course. So, where are you from then? Did someone send you? Are you a spy?” I asked, and narrowed an eye with suspicion.

“No. — I mean, I guess I could say I sent myself if that counts.” She answered with a shrug.

I shook my head, unamused by this woman’s game. “If you’re not going to be serious about this, I’ll have to send you in for temporary arrest and have you interrogated by a professional. It’s illegal for you to be here, you know.” I held her arm, to which she immediately protested by shaking her arm off.

“No need to have me on your grip. It’s not like I can outrun you anyway. You can run a mile in a minute.”

I crossed my arms, caught off guard that she was being factual about my physique, though no information of it had been released to the public from my knowledge. “How did you know that?”

“I know a lot of things about you, - because I was your fiancé.“ she said, as if it was the obvious.

“Okay,” I sighed and decided to play along for a little bit more. “If we are that close, tell me something no one else knows about me.”

She bit the inside of her cheek as she took a minute to think. For a moment I thought she didn’t have anything more to say. I turned around and wiped my eyes from drowsiness, until she opened her mouth again and said something that would completely shift the atmosphere;

“A strong heart will take you further than any physical strength. A strong heart means you'll never quit. —”

I stiffened, my face immediately turning to look at her, my focus not shifted on anything else anymore.

“— Sarah. Your mother said that to you before she died of tuberculosis in 1936.”

My stomach dropped when her eyes met mine again. I took steps forward, my face only inches away as my glare drilled into hers.

My jaw ticked as my eyebrows narrowed, my hands landing on her shoulder to not have her move away.

“How do you know that? Who are you?”

Her lips quirked a smile as she leaned in and said, “I’ve already told you. I was your fiancé, -

From the future anyway.”

N/A: First part of a 4-5 part series! Already working on part 2 & 3, so this should go somewhat smoothly. >:)

Also fuck Endgame!Steve, am I right?

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <;3

#steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #cevans characters #chris evans #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans x reader #captain america x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x you

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ripley95 · 16 days

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A Spectre's Proposal

Chapter 1

Pairing: f!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter Length: 3.1K

Summary:

More than a year has passed since the Reaper War ended, and Kaidan and Jane have settled right into domestic life while they contribute to the rebuilding efforts on Earth. As normalcy begins to set in, so do old problems. News hits of piracy out in the Traverse when the Council calls on them for a secret mission only the two of them can fulfil. The nature of the mission leads them to think about what they want from their relationship.

Read the full chapter on AO3

Sample:

Jane woke up to her alarm in protest. She forced her eyes open despite wishing she could go back to sleep. It was a Tuesday. The worst day of the week. No longer rested from the weekend, and still with the majority of the week left to go.

This was never a problem she had on active duty. There was always so much to do that the days blurred together and the concept of regular sleeping hours was a fabrication. There was no such thing as a weekend, and they were lucky to get shore leave whenever it was granted. To have to wake up for a morning shift still felt so foreign, but here she was, still working the desk job that was assigned to her by Admiral Hackett almost exactly a year ago upon her return to Vancouver after the war. The only difference is that now it was a choice she made to stay here, rather than her only option.

When she was initially assigned the role, it was because her injuries from the war prevented her active status, but since then, she’d gone through rigorous physical therapy on top of her endurance and strength training. She ensured her certifications were up to date. She was fit for duty if she wanted it, but she and Kaidan decided they didn’t mind taking some time for themselves before getting back into it. It gave them a chance to reconnect without being pulled away on different assignments, desperate for some shore leave together. Being tied to a desk may not have been her first choice, but it granted them real and genuine time together, which was a gift she’d take a thousand times over.

As it was, there was no war to speak of, making the decision to stay at a desk a little more palatable, and this way, they got to carpool to work together. They ate lunch together most days and came home to each other every night. They went hiking up Grouse Mountain and went swimming in English Bay. And they even got to spend holidays with Kaidan’s family in the Interior. In fact, they’d be going back there soon for his sister’s one-year anniversary. Kaidan showed her Vancouver, and they took their time to appreciate life while still being able to contribute to the rebuilding efforts, of which there weren’t many left to speak of. Things were almost back to normal at this point. The relays were mostly repaired. The Citadel was back up and functioning in its new location over London. Things were better than she ever could have dreamed of, even if her job was a little monotonous and she hated waking to an alarm.

Jane was starting to feel sleep pull her under again when she finally fought against it. She’d spent enough time procrastinating in bed. Sun was already lighting up their room, and work beckoned. She turned over to see Kaidan’s side of the bed was already empty and tucked in as much as possible with her still sleeping on the other side. Jane smiled at the thought and how ingrained the habit was for him to do it even while she still occupied half the space. She stood up and tucked in her own side of the bed, not wanting to get a reputation for being the sloppy one, even though, of the two of them, she was definitely the one with that reputation already. When she was done, she went to take what was supposed to be a quick shower, and as with most mornings, she lost track of time. She got dressed in a hurry and ran to the kitchen. Her hair was still wet from the rush.

#f!shenko #f!shepard #kaidan alenko #mass effect fanfiction #fanfiction #mass effect #romance #fluff #fake engagement #my writing

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polar-equinoxx · 1 year

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A fic masterlist! Finally!

And here is my ao3 account :D

Take your pick, all of these are sfw, full of fluff or angst and definitely hurt/comfort; and are rated either gen or teen^^

More detailed summaries added underneath each one and oh my god this post is so long

featuring the main two of all of these bc why the hell not

Oh and the series on ao3 is linked in the headings of each sector :)

I will be updating this whenever I write more fics, so keep watch XD

☁️The heavens told me that clouds have been grey

all of my icemav fics! So guaranteed smooches <3 none of them link to each other unless they are in a seperate series ^^

find the masterlist here! yes I made a seperate post its because there are so many of them quq

🌟Canons shoot ships but not this one

all of my fics that could fit into the canon timeline, (featuring an occasional icemav smooch cus lets be for real they did probably kiss at least once)

find the masterlist here! yes I made a seperate post for this too lmao

Long-fics (5k or above)

🍁Hot Summer Nights to Cold Winter Days (18k words, 10 chapters split between two works)

Rated Teen, with fluff and a genourous amount of angst and hurt/comfort

When Goose and his pilot were allowed to go to Top Gun, then Ice couldn’t think of anything better. Only until he’d seen Maverick and fallen head over heels in love with him. That July Saturday had changed everything, Goose had gone, and Maverick had fallen into a deep dark pit, and Ice, wanting to look out for Maverick, had dived straight in after him, unwilling to let his wingman get stuck there. Ice promised Maverick he’d go to the ends of the earth with him, and that is what he would do, even if it meant they’d both hurt.

❄️Returning to You (25k words, 15 chapters)

❄️ Letters : Epilogue (1.5k words)

Rated Teen, a lot of angst. Seriously. But a lot of hurt comfort to make up for it :,) Oh yeah, the amnesia is the cause of the angst..

In the months after Goose’s death, Maverick has been forging a deep friendship with Iceman. So deep, in fact it feels like nothing could come between them, even though he hasn’t been entirely honest about exactly how he is feeling. It’s hard to do, but it only seems to get harder when a scouting mission takes a turn for the worse.

🌷Galloping into the Cold (5k+ words, completely a wip, 3 chapters right now)

Rated Teen, angst, fluff hurt-comfort, medieval au, they ride horses.

Thomas Kazansky, nicknamed Ice for the personality that isn’t even his; feels like he’s stuck in his pampered posh life. That’s until he falls off his horse and meets Peter Mitchell and realises he might have a chance to be something other than his surname.

🌙 when the human strokes your skin, that is when you let them in (29k words, 14 chapters)

Rated Teen, angst hurt/comfort and secretive mutual pining with miscommunication sprinkled on top

Top Gun. Top Gun! Maverick had only gone and actually done it, and it would be the best five weeks of his life, for sure. If only there wasn’t a distraction with the name of Iceman. Anyway, he was so relieved that he was going to do it and win that trophy with Goose. But many things don’t go to plan.

🌹Roses (5k words, a 4+1)

Rated Teen, angst, unrequited love, a lot of valentines days, pining and eventual fluff

Nobody in Iceman’s life has meant more to him than Pete Mitchell does. He’s dangerous and annoying but incredibly cute, and Ice thinks if he looks at him one more time with that smile of his, his legs are going to give out under him. Try as he might, he can’t say anything to address the crush he has on him. // Or, the four times Ice wants to admit to Maverick that he loves him and the one time he does.

🧊Not Enough (11k words, a 5+1)

Rated teen, angst, self doubt, abusive parents, mutual pining and eventual fluff

Iceman has been told one way or another and all through his life that he's not good enough, for whatever that may be. He dreads turning out even the slightest bit like his father, and he'll do everything in his power to stop himself from becoming like him. / Or, five ways people say to Ice that he's not enough and the one time he says it.

🐎Heaven In Your Eyes (WIP, 2 chapters at 3k)

They r cowboys, no-one dies, (!?!), they ride horses, with pining, fluff and friends to lovers

Thomas Kazansky is the notorious peace-maker of the new place in Colorado the people call Durango. Pete Mitchell was supposed to be passing it on his way to California, but the small town seemed nice enough to stay for while. For some reason, their paths keep crossing, but Pete, as rebellious as he is, doesn't mind. / Or, a western icemav fic that takes place in 1886

❤️‍🩹Goose lives AU (Goose lives and there's no such thing as DADT)

❤️‍🩹Seasick (1632 words)

Rated Teen, sickfic, hurt/comfort A mission is flown, the mission is successful, but a certain Pete Maverick Mitchell is seasick. Badly.

❤️‍🩹Saved by Sickness (2037 words)

Rated Teen, sickfic, hurt/comfort, this is how Goose lives lol The thing about Iceman is that he never gets sick. Or at least he thought he didn’t. Most of the time it was just a cold. Most of the time he jut felt a little bit more tired for a couple of days, then he was back to normal. This was not one of those times, as he's about to find out.

❤️‍🩹Spur of the Moment (3788 words)

Rated Teen, with fluff, pining, Goose and Slider embarrassing both Ice and Mav, and no DADT cus who am I to do that??? Maverick is about to fall asleep standing. He's so tired that the last thing he's going to be thinking about is what comes out of his mouth. Especially if it's 'baby'. Especially if it's to his wingman. Or, Maverick calls Ice 'baby' for the first time.

🕊Angelus AU (The icemav boys are angels, but that isn't normal)

🕊Growing Pains (1494 words)

Rated Teen, patching up injuries, angst, post-argument, hurt/comfort He doesn’t know how he gets to his bathroom, but once he reaches a point that lets him lift his head up to try and see his back in the mirror, he’s immediately chucked into a pit of horror and disbelief. “Oh god-” His wings were growing. God dammit of course they had to choose tonight to start.

🕊Cold Wings (2137)

Rated Teen, patching up injuries, fluff, hurt/comfort

The good news? Ice was there. / The bad news? There was blood all over his back and he was about to collapse over the sink. / “Oh jesus christ-” Maverick says as he shuts the door behind him and goes straight over to him, dropping the towel on the floor. || Or, Ice's wings decide to appear at a very awkward time.

🌠Shooting Stars (A small series where the icemav both stargazed as kids and Maverick dated Charlie beforehand)

🌠Starboard Half Light (3104 words)

Rated Gen, with pining, and hurt/comfort

It had been such a tiring day, and so emotionally charged too, so why was Maverick still wide awake? It seemed like the only option he had left was to go see Iceman, his newly titled wingman. Hopefully he was awake. Maverick just wanted to talk to someone. Or, Maverick and Iceman talk on the starboard side of the USS Enterprise for the entire night

🌠Shooting Stars (1886 words)

Rated Teen, a lot of kissing and pining. So much kissing seriously.

Maverick has always loved stargazing, ever since he was a kid. He has also had a crush on Iceman ever since he laid eyes on him. So what better to do than go stargazing with him, right?

🌠Afterglow (1635 words)

Rated Teen, hurt/comfort obviously with mentions of guilt tripping and Mav's past relationship with Charlie

“I- I promised…” “Hey, hey… you don’t have to be s-” “Yes I do,” Maverick interrupts him. “I promised her I wouldn’t because she’d- she…” She? “Who, Mav?” Or, Maverick wakes up in the middle of the night and tries to hide the nightmare he's just had from Ice, because he knows what will happen if he tells him.

#ms tg #ms fanfics #if you're reading this then beware the long post!!!#but if you're reading this then how was the long post?#and here are the tags for all of these!#ms hsntcwd #ms rty #ms gitc #ms wthsystiwylti #ms hiye #ms angelus au #ao3 #masterlist #fic masterlist #top gun fanfiction #fanfic

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pisupsala · 2 years

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One for The History Books [Chapter 10] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words]4.6k

[Library]

One for The History Books - Chapter 10: Cresting

You can hear the surprised whispers around you. You can practically see heads turning. But then again, you are being led through the halls of the Pentagon by a tall and handsome officer, who is refusing to let go of your hand. His manner is confident, but you can barely keep up with his long strides. The furious blush on your face from your boss' comments has not died down, and it won't, as you don't do well with people staring at you. And there's a lot of people at the Pentagon. As you are coming up to the exit, you catch up to Bradley to walk next to him. For about every step he takes, you have to take two. You quickly unclip the visitor's badge from his shirt, and hand it to the surprised looking guard. “Miss Williams, wh-?” He starts with a smile, but you just wave and bid him a nice evening, really not wanting to stop now. Oh Christ, the gossip mill is going to have a field day about this. Finally, you're out the door. “Where did you park?” You ask, a little out of breath. “The visitors' lot?” Bradley finally slows down. “Yeah, where's your car?” “Uhm - it's busted. I took the bus this morning.” You reply, a little embarrassed. Bradley raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I'll give you a ride.” He says matter-of-factly. “Thanks.” You smile up at him. After a beat, you carefully add: “Where are you headed?” Your voice careful. Now it's Bradley's turn to be embarrassed. His rubs his neck awkwardly with his free hand. “I... actually didn't think this far ahead.” He says sheepishly. You giggle. That's...actually kind of cute. “I'll drop you off, and then I'll probably head back to Virginia Beach.” He continues, somewhat pensive. “Or you could stay over at mine.” The words are out of your mouth before your brain can catch up. You don't want him to leave. Bradley's head whips around to look at you as he comes to an abrupt stop. A light blush is dusted on his cheeks. Oh Jesus, oh fuck. You just invited him over for sex, didn't you? This is the second time in about 10 minutes you wish you could just disappear off the earth in embarrassment. Your face is about to explode. “I - I mean - we -” You stumble through the beginning of a sentence. Taking a deep breath, you stop yourself. You know what? You're just going to own this one. He's the one who showed up at your office after three months and then some. Both of you should be really past any pretenses at this point. “If you want.” You smile. Bradley is just gaping at you. “I - uh - yeah-” He's flustered, looking for words. It's adorable, and you're secretly a little bit happy you're not always the one bumbling. You smile widely at Bradley, and pull his hand as you start walking again. “Cool! Then that's settled.” You say with an ease and confidence you really wish you felt. Bradly just laughs and pulls you to him, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You lean into him. It's all so easy with Bradley. And somewhere, that's actually kind of scary.

“You are something else, darlin'.” He says, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Another Ford Bronco, really?” You tease, as you arrive to his car. “Don't change a winning team.” Bradly shrugs. “Also, the other one was a rental, this one is actually mine.” He adds proudly. Guys and cars... “I'll drive.” You hold out your hand for the keys. Bradley's hand clutches around his keys, eyebrows raised. He's going to say no. “It'll be faster, trust me, traffic around here is a nightmare.” You push, hand still outstretched. “Don't you trust me?” You add, teasing. Bradley barks out a laugh. “I don't even know why your car is busted, sweetheart.” The car keys are still firmly in his fist. “Battery died.” You counter easily, wiggling your fingers. “And you know how to drive clutch?” He teases back, leaning against the driver door. His confident smile tells you he thinks he's got you now. “Yep.” He's still not budging. “Fine. Let me drive out of the lot, and if you judge me not being up to par, Lieutenant, we'll switch.” You step closer to Bradley. He's looking you down with a half-smile. “You're not going to let this go, are you?” “It's just more practical.” You counter. “Fine.” He tosses you the keys, which you thankfully catch. “But I'm going to be watching closely, I don't usually let other's drive my car.” “First time for everything, no?” Bradley just shakes his head as he makes his way to the passenger's side. You dig your sunglasses out of your bag, put them on, and climb into the driver's seat. Dropping your bag into the backseat, you start adjusting your seat and the mirrors. Bradley gets in next to you, sunglasses on. You can feel his eyes on you. “If you're driving, I'm in charge of the music.” He's resolute. You just smile. It's been a while since you've felt... like yourself. You spend so much time biting your tongue and being polite at work, and you've shut yourself off from so many things lately, you almost forgot what it's like to have fun. Tease. Flirt. Take a risk. Confidently, you start the car and smoothly steer it out of the parking space. The Bronco is a fair bit bigger than your car, so you need to stay sharp, but god you've missed driving a four-wheel drive. As a classic rock station starts playing from the radio, Bradley is looking at you over the top of his sunglasses, judging your every move. You flash him a big smile and start driving towards the exit gate. You wave at the guards as you drive past, who seem to do an almost double take when they see you. Well, this is a far cry from your usual compact car. Also, usually you don't have an officer in the passenger's seat. Smile and wave. As you accelerate onto the main street, Bradley's hand wraps around yours as you change gears. “That better be a romantic gesture and not a criticism of my car-handeling skills.” You joke. He flashes you a half smile.

“I've done a lot off-road driving, doing field research of historical battlefields and stuff.” You offer up to put Bradley more at ease, slightly nostalgic. “It's probably my favorite part of research.”

“You could have led with that.” He chuckles, but you can see him relax from the corner of your eye. It's almost rush hour. The drive to your apartment in Arlington is usually short, no more than 10 minutes, but you've been in traffic jams of up to an hour.

And, let's face it, you don't think you'd be able to stand it. Bradley is sitting next to you, in his service khaki's, his large hand covering yours. Until about an hour ago, you thought you'd probably never see him again. You maneuver through the thickening traffic, taking an early turn off the freeway onto a shortcut through town.

It's just minutes later, when you climb out of the Bronco in front of your apartment building, you are not actually sure this is actually really happening. Can you pinch yourself? Bradley's hand is resting on your hip as you unlock the door. Fuck. If this is a dream, you're going to make most of it. You push the door into the building open, and pull Bradley inside with you in one fluid move.

You crash into each other in the at the bottom of the stairs. His hands are cupping your face, lips pressing against yours. House keys jingling in your hand, you cannot help but wrap your arms around him. Clumsily, you walk backwards, leading him up the stairs without breaking the kiss.

Between kisses and touches, you make it up the stairs to your front door. And as the door opens, you stumble in together, keys falling to the ground. Bradley kicks the front door closed, as you pull him through the small hall of your apartment. His fingers are making short work of the buttons of your blouse, revealing the camisole underneath.

He breaks the kiss as he pushes the blouse down your arms, fingers running down your arms as he does. He looks at you intently with dark eyes. It sends shivers down your spine. Your blouse lands on the floor softly.

You bring your hands up to his shirt and try to return the favor by undoing the buttons. It's only now you become truly conscious how hard your hands are shaking. You can barely get a grip with your trembling fingers—all confidence of just a few minutes earlier melted like snow in the sun. You let out a shaky breath, determined not to give up.

Not now.

You can't fall apart now.

Why now?

Large, warm hands wrap over yours, stilling them. Bradley presses a gentle kiss against your wrist. His voice is soft and warm.

“You don't have to-...” He starts. Hanging your head, you could cry from embarrassment. You started this whole thing by inviting him in the first place.

“No, it's - I -” You can barely get the words out. Sighing, your shoulders sag, tears stinging in your eyes. Bradley is still holding your hands. God, how can he be so sympathetic when you are essentially ruining the entire mood?

“I thought you rejected me.” You admit softly. “And every memory of you hurt so much, and I felt so powerless...”

You pause for a moment, still not daring to look at him. And then it's like the dam inside you breaks and everything just comes tumbling out.

“And I hated how much you got to me, so easily, how I could not forget about you. It was so unfair. And then you were gone. And the only reason I knew you weren't actually dead is because I read your reports, which actually hurt even worse because I couldn't escape you anywhere—at work, in my head, my dreams-” You take a deep breath. Bradley is quiet, waiting for you to continue.

“What I'm trying to say...” The tears that had been stinging in your eyes are rolling down your cheeks now. God, why can't you just get over yourself? He's here. He came for you. Why is it still hurting? Why are you crying now? You force yourself to look up at him. Bradley has a pained expression on his face.

“I'm so happy you're here, but I'm... so overwhelmed.” You swallow. Bradley's expression softens. “I've dreamed about you coming back, but I guess I'm just not as brave as I hoped, and now I don't know what to do.”

There. It was like an emotional bloodletting. You've ruined everything now, but at least you got to vocalize everything that was still heavy on your heart. That's at least worth something. You both stay silent for a bit.

“I - ehm - I'm sorry, I kind of ruined it, didn't I?”

You try to pull your hands from Bradley's, but instead he pulls you into him, wrapping you into a hug. He buries one hand in your hair, as he rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“God, sweetheart, I'm so sorry.” You can feel his breath against you.

“Being stuck on that ship not knowing if you were mad, didn't care or just forgot kept me awake at night. I couldn't get you out of my fucking mind—and I didn't understand how that happened so quickly.” He sounds vulnerable. You put your arms around him tightly. “I never meant for you to hurt like this. I thought the hurt was my own and I deserved it. But not you. Never you.”

He sighs deeply and continues: “It was torture counting down the days till landfall, so I could just free myself from this uncertainty. No matter if you rejected me or gave me another chance—I needed you to know I didn't forget.”

“So you couldn't ruin anything,” He brushes his lips against your bare shoulder. “Because this already went better than I dared to hope.”

You chuckle, despite yourself. It comes out as a half sob. In a strange way, it feels validating to hear that Bradley was affected by this whole situation too. Like you weren't alone in your complicated and confusing feelings. Now at least you could start navigating it with him.

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When you said you needed a shower before anything else, you didn't expect Bradley to casually invite himself along. His reasoning being that he just spent three months at sea, and Navy showers are a pain after a while. It's hard to argue with that, but it's even harder to argue with Bradley as he's stripping out of his service khaki's. You can scarcely take your eyes off him as he hangs his uniform shirt over the back of a chair, and slips off the white skivvy shirt.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Brain, engage.

Kicking off your shoes and socks, and walk into your small bathroom to bring the shower up to temperature. Your cheeks feel hot. “Hop in when you're ready, I'm just going to grab some towels.” You say over your shoulder as you disappear into your bedroom. You slip out of your slacks, leaving you in your underwear and camisole. Grabbing two clean towels, you try to ignore how messy your apartment actually is. Half-read books, loose sheets of notes and clean laundry are strewn around your bedroom—your laptop precariously balancing on the bedside table. Worries for another day. Walking back into the bathroom, you see the outline of Bradley's body through the fogged up glass door of the shower. You feel your heart rate quicken. Stripping out the rest of your clothes, you push through your awkwardness and step into the shower. Goddamn, he has no right to look that good. Through the steam from the hot shower, you can see the rivulets of water running down his tan and muscular back. There is no embarrassment in his movements as he turns to you—you envy how completely at ease he is with himself. He's incredibly close to you—your nose is almost brushing against his chest. Was your shower always this cramped? You put out your hands, resting them against his upper arms, to steady yourself. Bradley's muscles ripple and move under your touch. His fingertips are skimming up your sides, sending shivers down your spine. You flinch as Bradley's fingers pass a particularly ticklish spot. The cocky smile on his face tells you he's happy about his discovery. You frown at him playfully, while reaching behind him for your bottle of body wash. Bradley plucks the bottle from your hand before you can do anything else, however. “Let me.” His voice is soft. You nod mutely. He pops the bottle and gently starts spreading the gel over your shoulders, creating suds. Squeezing some body wash in your palm, you return the favor, lathering it over his chest. “I hope you don't mind smelling like orange blossom.” You joke lightly as you run your hands over Bradley's chest. Lord above, he is in such impeccable shape, not a single memory did justice to having him this close to you feeling the heat from his skin, his heartbeat under your fingers and every ripple of his muscles. It feels incredibly intimate to stand together under the rushing water. You are both baring it all today: your pain, your hopes, and your bodies. Bradley pulls you closer to him, closing the final few inches that we between you. You are flush against him now, skin on skin. His breath is tickling the shell of your ear.

“I don't mind smelling like you.” Fuck, he will be the end of you. Grabbing Bradley's face, you crash your lips against his. You've missed him, and you want him so badly. He easily flips your position, pushing you up against the tile wall, not breaking the kiss. You press your body against his, wanting to feel him with every fiber of your being. “I think I'm ready to get out of the shower.” You mumble against his lips. Bradley squeezes your hip in reply. Turning off the water, you step out of the cabin into the steam filled bathroom. You hand Bradley a towel, but instead he uses it to dry you off and wrap you up. The simple, gallant gesture gives you butterflies—it hits you with a severity you haven't felt since you were a teenager. Meanwhile, he wraps the second towel around his waist, and despite you were just naked in the shower together, the sight of him in just that towel is enough to knock the breath out of you. Before your brain can form another thought, Bradley scoops you up in his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You wrap your legs around his waist and clutch your arms around his neck for stability. His mouth is latched to the column of your neck, his mustache brushing over your sensitive skin. Your apartment is small, with the bedroom just a few steps away from the bathroom. Bradley gently lays you on your unmade bed, gazing down at you with his dark eyes. You lick your lips in anticipation. His eyes flash down to your mouth to follow the movement. He bends over you, hands on either side of your head, one knee resting next to your hip. His voice is so thick with need, it sounds almost hoarse. “When I said I would take my time with you—I meant it.” You can feel his breath against you, your hands claw up his shoulders and your back arches—you want to feel him against you, but he is unrelenting. “I need you to say it.” You look up at him, almost dazed. Bradley's pupils are blown with desire, but his face looks serious. Your brain can barely comprehend what he wants from you. “I need you to say you want this...” Bradley pauses for a moment. “That you want me.” He sounds vulnerable—unsure almost, and while his face betrays nothing, you can see his eyes are suddenly guarded. You nod mutely before your brain convert your desires into words. You half sit up, leaning on your elbow, closing the space between you. Gently, you touch Bradley's face, fingertips tracing over the thin scars on his cheek. “I want you.” The moment the words leave your mouth, Bradley's lips are on yours, pushing you back onto your back. He's nimbly undoing the towel that wrapped around you, fingers skimming over the exposed skin. You barely have a second to comprehend what is going on when he nips your now exposed nipple. You gasp at the sensation. Your reactions are now purely instinctual, brain wiped of every logical thought. Bradley's hand is on your hip, pressing it down into the mattress, as he's using it other hand and mouth to tease your nipples.

He works his way down your body in a trail of kisses and gentle nips, hooking your knee over his shoulder in one smooth motion. You gasp as he kisses the inside of your thigh. Your fingers tangle into his hair, fisting it tight. He lets out a grunt.

“Fuck, Bradley-” You swear in anticipation. You feel him chuckle more than you hear it. As he gently shushes you, you feel his breath brushing against your core. He's torturing you by taking his sweet ass time, building the anticipation. One hand is splayed on your stomach, holding you down, while his other hand is holding your thigh firmly over his shoulder, squeezing it.

Just as you scrap together enough mental capacity to tell Bradley to hurry the fuck up already out of pure frustration—you've waited for months, and now he has the audacity to -

You gasp in surprise and elation as Bradley's tongue runs up your already soaking pussy. This how you learn that he might take his time, but once he starts something, Bradley damn sure finishes it.

He is relentless. His tongue finds your clit and teases—your hips buck at the sensation—you want more, you need more—but Bradley is keeping you firmly in place. Which is turning you on even more.

You arch your back, tightening the muscles of your core, intensifying the sensation from Bradley's tongue. A string of half formed swear words tumble out of your mouth. You can already feel the coil in your stomach tightening. Fuck, how does Bradley get you there so fast?

You grab the hand that he has on your thigh, his fingers digging into your flesh almost painfully. Trying to pry his fingers loose, he swats your hand away, making an admonishing sound.

“No - I need - please-” You plead, panting. You are incoherent under his ministrations, trying to guide his hand where you need him. Bradley catches your drift quickly. He plunges two fingers into your pussy, hooking up at the end, moving in tandem with his mouth.

You need to remind yourself to breathe, completely overtaken by your building orgasm.

“Bradley- please, please - don't stop.” He's hitting all your buttons right now. You feel you are getting close, the orgasm building in you with every move he makes in his relentless assault on you. Your moans seem to spur him on further, doubling his efforts. Fuck, you are almost there...

The moment he takes you over the edge takes you completely by surprise—it's sudden, it's intense, and it feels like you cannot catch your breath.

You scream out Bradley's name as you cum, your body convulsing under his vice-like grip on your hips. His mouth stays firmly on your pussy as you ride your high, fingers hooked against the most sensitive spot in you. You are trying to catch your breath so hard, it's making you lightheaded.

It seems like time is standing still until Bradley slowly gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, grin on his face. You don't care how much it's stroking his ego to see you undone like that, but you desperately crave his closeness and his warmth. Pushing yourself up, still dazed, reaching out to Bradley and pulling him onto you.

You shamelessly kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips, while wrapping your legs around his waist Your hands travel down his chiseled chest to undo the towel around his waist. Bradley likes to tease, you are much more to the point—but you both like to be in control.

You try to flip him over, but Bradley won't budge.

“Let me take care of you, darlin'.” He whispers in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. You open your mouth to protest, but Bradley simply slips his thumb in your mouth while holding your chin.

Holy fucking shit, that's hot.

You relent, leaving Bradley in control. You mouth closes around his finger, gently sucking it. Him telling you he wants to take care of you stirs your emotions—you can feel the butterflies returning again. He turns your head to face him.

“There's a good girl.”

Bradley easily maneuvers your legs around his waist—your arms automatically move around him. He turns your heads to face him, directing you to look at him as his cock enters you, slowly. It feels deeply intimate—the way Bradley looks you in the eye like you are at the center of the universe. Like you are his singular focus right now. You moan as your pussy stretches around him. Your hips buck, but Bradley keeps steady.

You arch into him, pressing your chest against his. He plops his fingers out of your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead and pressing you into him. You moan, pressing kisses against the column of his neck, lightly biting down right under his ear. Bradley swears and tightens his grip on you.

You feel like you are in sensory overload—his touch, his presence—it's like nothing is enough right now. He moves at a torturous pace, driving deeply into you, savoring every moment of it.

In this moment, you are not above begging, but no words make it out of your mouth. Your hands roam of his body, like you are tying to assure yourself he's actually here, feeling every contour, every ridge and plane.

Gently, Bradley lays you back, untangling his fingers from your hair. He kisses you on the mouth, hard. Before you can react, he sits back kneeling, hooking his arms under your knees and pulling your lower body up. He set a relentless pace, driving into you at a new, delicious angle. You meet every motion with your own out of instinct, your nails digging into Bradley's legs.

“Talk to me, darlin'” He commands you.

“Bradley - fuck- I -” There are so many emotions swirling through you, you can't pinpoint one to vocalize. “I can't think, babe” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut.

“Good.” His tone is still firm, but he has a smirk on his face.

“I've missed you so much.” It comes out barely above a whisper, and you're not even sure what compelled you to say that. You're not even sure Bradley heard you, until he pulls you up by your arms, into his lap. The change in position has you seeing stars for a moment—his cock is filling you to the brim, and every little shift from your hips is leaving him groaning in pleasure.

“Show me how much you missed me, sweetheart.” He grinds out. You really don't need to be told twice. Moving your hips, your clit is brushing against him with every motion. You wrap an arm around his head, your breasts pushing into his face. The sting of his love bites on your chest is spurring you on, quickening your movements.

“Fuck - fuck you feel so good -” You pant out, rolling your hips. Bradley swears loudly.

“Do that again, darlin',” Bradley's fingers are digging into the flesh of your ass, guiding your movements—he sounds out of breath, a faint sheen of sweat gathering on his brow. “Don't stop, fuck- please don't stop.”

Eager to please, you keep rolling your hips, kissing Bradley hard. Every movement builds the pressure in you further, tightening the muscles of your core. Just a little bit more...

Bradley suddenly bucks up, tearing a moan from you.

“I can't- I'm so close, darlin', I need to - fucking hell - I need to-” Bradley eyes are screwed shut, and you cut him off with a kiss. Driving your hips lower, making your movements more powerful, your goal is singular.

“Cum for me, lieutenant.” Your voice is surprisingly level.

“Not without you.” With that, his fingers a suddenly on your clit, adding just the pressure you need. Your movements are frantic now, rhythm speeding up to match the urgency you both feel. The wave is building up in you, almost painfully—you push your legs out further to the side to get better leverage.

You cup Bradley's face, holding him close to you, looking him in the eye.

“You're going to be the end of me.”

The wave in you crests, and you scream in ecstasy. Your muscles in a vice-like grip around his cock, pulling him with you in your release. For a moment the world stops around you, and your mind with wiped from every worry and thought as you just feel.

And goddamn, does it feel good with Bradley.

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[note] Hope this chapter was worth the wait! I finally bought the movie, so I can stream it, because I only saw it once as before I started writing. Omg have I misremembered stuff, hahaha! I might rework that later, but now I'm really looking to finish this story first. This leg of the story is actually the closest to the original idea I had for this fic, so I'm actually looking forward to really fleshing that out.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster x oc

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ao3feed-sambucky · 3 days

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Upon Faith

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/IyYLoel by ElisabethMonroe It's 10:34 AM on a Thursday morning when the Winter Soldier kills the GRC delegation leader in the middle of an international summit. He takes out every security agent who gets near him, maims most of the bystanders. He looks right into Sam's eyes as he raises a modified sig-sauer micro-rifle and shoots Sam directly in the middle of the star covering his chest. When The Winter Soldier attacks an international summit and shoots Captain America, Sam Wilson is convinced Bucky Barnes had nothing to do with. He'll go to the ends of the Earth to prove it. When Sam goes missing, Bucky runs a rescue mission, no matter what it means for his own health and safety. Words: 26802, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English Fandoms: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Joaquín Torres, G'iah (Marvel), Everett Ross, Shuri (Marvel), Sonya Falsworth, Gravik (Marvel), Skrull Characters (Marvel), Rick Mason (Marvel) Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Joaquín Torres & Sam Wilson Additional Tags: Skrull Species (Marvel), Identity Issues, Identity Porn, Spies & Secret Agents, Intrigue, Captain America Sam Wilson, Missing in Action, Impersonation, Not Canon Compliant with Season 1 of Secret Invasion (TV 2023), Speculation for Thunderbolts (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Speculation for Captain America: Brave New World (Marvel Cinematic Universe), POV Multiple, Blood, Injury, Violence, Body Horror, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Saving the World, Saving Each Other, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Separations, Implied/Referenced Torture, Medical Procedures, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Body Worship, Government Conspiracy read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/IyYLoel

#Bucky #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #James Barnes #Falcon #SamBucky #BuckySam #IFTTT #ao3feed

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lilbrainbigheartz · 2 months

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Karma Akabane x reader (dunnothenameyet)

Chapter 1

Well what the fuck.

Yep the first words that came on my mind after seeing my now yellow octopus teacher "Korosensei" in front of me.

Korosensei: "Alright students, let's get started"If you didn't know...Korosensei is a creature who destroyed the moon last year and now his ass is in our classroom in the 3-E building...Our mission is to save the earth and our target is our teacher.

But seriously, is the government that incompentent, so they give us MIDDLESCHOOLERS the task to eliminate Korosensei?

Mr Karasuma was standing next to him and his first words were:"Please understand what I'm about to say is a state secret"

Imagine, you are a special agent in the government and suddenly you get that task to watch over some octopus creature teaching a middleschool class who also are supposed to assassinate him.

Sucks I guess.

Just kidding.

After Mr Karasuma explained what the deal was about Korosensei (and that he is super fast in his Mach 20) we all actually had our first period of class with Korosensei. To be honest, he is actually pretty good at teaching. Way better than our principal Gakuhoe-

I MEAN! Gakuho Asano.

During my first days at school I actually was able to make some new 'friends'.The blonde girl Rio Nakamura was already my favourite, because her and I have the same sense of humor.

Nagisa and Kayano were also pretty fine to talk to.

But that was it honestly.

#karma akabane x reader #akabane karma x reader #Assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #koro sensei #tadaomi karasuma #karma akabane #nagisa shiota #kayano kaede #rio nakamura

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hunterssm00n · 3 months

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Beyond the Stars

Layla is a recovering heroin addict on a rehabilitation ship out in deep space; the mission is for the junkies in recovery to build housing for colonies on a new planet that is found to be safe for human existance, therefore giving them a second shot at life without sending them to prison. Basically killing two birds with one stone. However, Layla soon uncovers a secret that Weyland-Yutani Corp. is hiding from the public, and when there's an alien outbreak aboard the ship, she is unsure if she will make it back to Earth to share her gruesome discovery.

chapter 1 of ??

also on ao3: here

*cw include smut, interspecies relationship, canon typical violence/gore, explicit language, past drug use, offensive language, xenomorph things, past abuse, dark themes* MDNI - 18+

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‎♡‧₊˚

"Broke! Inside / This life, you can never be reborn within / I came this far, erase my scars / Fight! This time / Inside, take a break from the lie you live / I came this far, erase my scars" ~ 'Erase my Scars' - Evans Blue

Chapter 1: Erase My Scars

The sound of birds chirping woke her up, along with a steady stream of warm light she was aware of even though her eyes were closed. She allowed one eye, the one closest to her pillow, to slowly crack open. The light was not blinding, but rather awakening, if that made any sense. Not harsh, but warm and inviting. Wake up, you are welcome here. Along with the birds and a faint gentle breeze causing leaves on the trees to rustle, it really was paradise.

Too bad it was fake.

She let her other eye open to observe the simulation of said paradise, the image of a sunny summer morning being shown back at her. The image, though a lie, was definitely crafted well. The whole idea of having scenery simulated on the walls of one's bedroom was a definite jackpot. It was both practical and impractical at the same time. Something crazy, but with just enough sense poured into it that it made the whole thing justifiable. The idea, of course, was to soothe the brain into thinking you were somewhere peaceful, serene, safe. She wondered then if there would be some sort of advanced setting upgrade where there was, like, a rock concert going on in the background, or a derby. That would most definitely defeat the whole 'soothing' purpose of the thing though, so probably not. Just another one of those weird little things she wondered. Hell, there wasn't much in here to do but wonder.

She was Layla Thomas, and here was a floating hunk of metal in deep space that housed junkies and recovering drug addicts. Who knew a few hundred years ago that there would be flying rehabilitation centers zooming through the sky, past planets? If they were zooming though, Layla thought, it would probably be much more fun. Not like any of them would really be able to tell anyways. Windows were limited to none, and most of the patients weren't allowed near them. Mainly because recovering druggies could be very dangerous, especially when coming down off of meds or still on the last gasp of their previous high. Druggies, like psychos, had very little concept of pain when doped up, and could display an incredible amount of strength, even if they were not but skin and bones. These corporate suits weren't going to take any chances. Not even on a 5'3 dirty blonde with curvy legs and big brown doe eyes.

Layla lifted her head off of her pillow to fully inspect the image of a maple tree to her right; it probably might've been a bit more believable had the floor also had some sort of simulated grass. It went from the beautiful flowery-grassy-lovely scenery on the wall straight to stark white, cold tile.

With a tired sigh, she shifted on the memory foam mattress to reach to the nightstand, conveniently next to the tree, for the remote. There were a few settings that she favored over the others - one of them being this sunny morning that was displayed right now. But her favorite was the ocean setting, which was what she switched to now. Immediately, the green grass melted away to become blue foaming waves, surrounding her with gentle crashing noises of the tide. The birds chirping became seagulls squalling in the distance, and the yellow streaming sunlight became a creamy pink, orange and blue tye-dye. The color of the sky when the sun rose. Layla settled back onto the bed with another sigh; this one of longing.

She missed Earth, missed her family, missed her freedom. And she missed the ocean. A phenomenon she'd only experience the beauty of a handful of times, but she visited it every day in her memory. Her obsession went so far that she had a mermaid tattoo on the back of her left shoulder. Sometimes she scoffed at herself; twenty-five years old and she still wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up.

The drug use hadn't done anything to dull her overactive imagination. If anything, it had increased it. Kind of what she'd been counting on when she'd taken her first hit. Heroin had been her poison of choice. God damn old bitch had caught her at her worst moments and had helped her to fly. She was glad it was gone, but missed it all the same. The withdrawal had been God awful; spewing from both ends, screaming and crying, night sweats, insomnia... If she ever thought she'd been close to death before, it was nothing compared to what she'd gone through then. She'd honestly thought she was dying; honestly had wanted to go rather than endure another day of the unbearable pain.

Finally sitting up in her bed, Layla looked down at her left arm, the inside of her elbow. The track marks were very visible still, even after three months. They would probably remain in sight for the rest of her life. She frowned at how purple/brown/ugly they looked, like ticks dotting her skin. They'd look much better if she still had her tan - too bad the simulated sunlight couldn't do that for her. It looks real, it sounds real, but it ain't real.

A keyboard note softly sounded out through the room, signifying the presence of somebody outside her door. There was no point in telling them to come in or fuck off. They couldn't hear her. This room was totally soundproof from the outside. The only means of contact was the little clear rectangular device on her nightstand. It would contact a nurse should she need something, and aid as a panic button for emergencies. Other than that, everyone could come and leave as they pleased freely through those doors. Everyone but her.

Layla wasn't exactly sure how many patients besides her there were on this ship. She knew it was big; as big as a commercial towing vehicle, or a medical facility. And they probably wouldn't be going through all this trouble for just her and a few other junkies, so she assumed there was more than a mere handful of them.

The entire point of her being on this floating hunk of junk was so that she could help build housing for colonies on another planet light years away from Earth. There were plenty of rehab centers on Earth that could have helped her, but none that would teach her whatever lesson she was about to be taught. Also, none that would have their own benefit of workers that didn't need to be paid. Layla, unfortunately, hadn't been a good girl back on Earth when it came to her drug problem. And upon being caught, she had run from the cops. Busted for heroin, evading arrest: all factors of the situation spelled bad news for her and her future. In court, she was given a choice: prison, multiple charges, her life ruined because of her own stupid mistake. Or, hopping aboard one of Weyland-Yutani's massive ships (since that company was the founding father of most of their technological advancements), and helping them build a few homes on a barren wasteland of a planet. Afterwards, they would let her off scott-free, clean slate. It almost sounded too good to be true, aside from the fact that they would have to be gone for more than a year from their homes back on Earth.

Sparing herself and her family the messiness and pain of prison, plus all of the combined contributions, Layla took the chance she was offered. Honestly, both options sucked, but plan C, aka. not getting caught, hadn't worked out too well either. She'd brought it upon herself; addiction was truly a disease. So many times she had thought about quitting, but as destructive as the drugs had been, they'd also been the only thing that actually calmed her, soothed her mind. That needle in her arm had brought her solace, even though it was destroying her. Lustrous golden hair was now dull and stringy. Tan skin was now pale with track marks and bruises, veiny and death-like. She had dark circles under her eyes that hadn't gone away in months. At least now though she could sleep - when she had first gone off the drugs, sleep had been non-existent.

The doors slid open to reveal a female nurse, Janine, she thought her name was. Janine, Jenny, Geraldine? She couldn't remember, nor did she really care. It sounded awful, but she had stopped caring about a lot ever since she had gotten into heroin. Things that used to matter didn't seem to anymore. That was one of the many reasons why she had wanted to quit, but the fear of things going back to how they had been completely scared her into putting down the spoon and the syringe.

"Morning doll, how ya doin' this mornin'?" the nurse, Jeanette, she could now read on the nametag, said in a southern twang.

"Just great," Layla grumbled. How the fuck did she think she was doing? She immediately felt bad for her grumpiness. It wasn't this woman's fault she was in this situation. It was her own fault. She was even tired of blaming herself though. She did it all day, and especially when she tried to sleep. Did it in her dreams. It was a shitty situation all around. There had been reasons for why she did what she did. Good reasons. But she didn't want to think about them now. Now it was time to start the day.

"Brought you some new pants, figured you was gettin' tired of the old ones," Jeanette held out another pair of pants identical to the ones Layla was wearing. Layla refrained from rolling her eyes/giving a death glare. Humoring the nurse, she took the pants and made her way to the restroom near the exit. If one more person tries to be funny, someone's gonna get punched, swear to God.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‎♡‧₊˚

AN: I do not own the Alien franchise or any of its characters, but Layla is my own OC, as well as a few others in this story.

The header above was made by me**

chapter 2

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genshin-impact-writings · 1 year

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The Abyss Prince: Ch.1

(Kaeya x gn!KOF!reader)

Synopsis: Kaeya and you have been dating for a while now and you both honestly couldn't be happier with each other - until Jean sends you on a mission that reveals Kaeya's deepest secret. And you learn that a dark past and your unwavering sense of duty could be enough to destroy a relationship that has always been too good to be true.

Chapter summary: You realize once again that being the child of an ex-Knight is one of the most difficult things on earth. (Title taken from: No Resolve - Surface Pressure)

Word count: ~ 3.5k

The masterlist for the series can be found in the navigation post on my blog.

Ch.1 - Surface Pressure

It was one of these days where nothing could go right, it seemed. First, you had overslept in the morning and barely had time to grab something to eat before rushing to the headquarters and reporting for duty, only to find out that the Acting Grand Master wasn’t there either. Then, you had completely forgotten to return a book you had borrowed a couple of days ago to the library, arousing Lisa’s anger in the process and almost ended up getting electrocuted which you had only been able to avoid by promising to buy her lunch today. And now, a couple of hours later, you found yourself on the training ground, together with your mother who had already picked out a weapon from the endless arms depot the Knights of Favonius called their own.

You were annoyed and exhausted and definitely not in the mood for yet another training session with your mother but when she set her mind on doing something, there was no point in trying to convince her otherwise. Besides, she’d only see it as a clear sign of weakness if you told her that you were too tired, followed by yet another lecture about the importance of training. And then, she’d probably tell you that you could have a much higher rank if you only tried a bit harder. So yes, you were tired – but you also weren’t in the mood for one of her speeches.

So, instead of saying something, you summoned your polearm and adjusted your stance. It was almost ridiculous that your mother still insisted on training you, even after you had been a part of the Knights of Favonius for a couple of years now. You knew that you were a skilled fighter and that Jean had no issues with giving more difficult missions to you. But of course, all of that wasn’t good enough for your family. You needed to be better, stronger, more successful, and if you didn’t strive for perfection every day, they acted like you wasted your potential. And no one ever asked if you were able to handle the pressure they constantly put on you.

With that thought in mind, you stepped forward, putting all your frustration into your first blow. Your mother dodged the attack with ease, an almost amused smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Not quick enough,” she said and pushed you back, “you need to figure out your opponent’s next move before they even know it themselves.”

You didn’t even bother to reply because it was pointless to argue with her or to tell her that all of this wasn’t new to you. Heck, you weren’t an unskilled child anymore that had only learned how to use their weapon without accidentally hurting themselves (not that it had happened often – but still often enough for your parents to bring it up on a regular basis). No, you were an adult now, and you knew how to fight.

You lunged at your mother again, the blade of her sword crashing against your polearm as you blocked her attack before you twirled around and aimed at her legs. She jumped backwards – and there it was, the tiny gap in her defense you had waited for. With one swift movement, you stepped forward and swung your weapon around. At the last second, she ducked your strike, once again using her blade to push you backwards.

“Not bad,” she panted, a barely noticeable smile flashing over her face. “You’re slowly learning how to use my weak points to your advantage.”

Slowly, you thought to yourself and huffed. In the past, you had fought countless battles against your mother and most of the time, you had been on par with her, although you knew that she would always deny that. Another reason why you hated to train with her – she was way too proud to admit her defeat, had always been. Sometimes, you wondered if it was because she hadn’t been on active duty for so long. She was still part of the Knights, yes, but most of the time, she was busy with caring for your father who still dealt with the aftermath of injuries he had suffered on a mission a couple of years ago. He had been a Knight before that, too, and you knew how much it pained him that he had to retire so early, no matter how many times others told him to stop living in the past.

You suddenly snapped out of your thoughts when your mother’s blade collided with your polearm once again, the force of her attack vibrating through your bones as you tried to regain your balance, tightening your grip around the weapon.

“A fight is not the right moment to start daydreaming,” your mother reminded you, the tone of her voice almost a bit condescending. Through gritted teeth, you replied, “I know.”

“Then focus! You can’t afford to zone out like that during a real fight.”

You ducked under her blade, knocking her back with another strike of your polearm. The two of you continued like this for a while, dancing around each other, waiting for the right moment to make another move. Soon enough, you were both gasping for air but neither of you was ready to yield. Perhaps that kind of stubbornness and pride was something you really had in common with your mother. Not that you would ever admit that, though.

And then, you suddenly found another gap in your mother’s defense. This time, you took full advantage of it. In just a matter of seconds, you had her down on the floor, the tip of your spear pointing at her throat. “I win,” you stated flatly.

A brief smile flashed over her face. “Indeed. I’m surprised you managed to beat me without using your vision, though.”

Ah, yes, of course. She would never not begrudge you for beating her, no matter how evenly balanced the battle had been. And that comment about your vision had been uncalled for, too. It was bullshit that she assumed you’d need elemental powers to win against her. Heck, you had never even tried to use your vision in one of your training matches because your parents had set the strict rule that you weren’t allowed to do that. They thought it would give you an unfair advantage – but you were convinced that they didn’t want you to use elemental power because they had never received a vision and weren’t ready to accept that even Celestia had acknowledged your ambitions.

“Thank you,” you finally replied (because you knew that was what your mother wanted to hear) and reached out to help her stand up. She dusted herself down, adjusting her clothing in the process and fixing her ponytail before she looked at you again. Your mother, the always presentable looking Knight. “Don’t be negligent of your training,” she said, “and don’t rest on today’s laurels.”

You watched her leaving the training ground, once again wondering why your own mother could never acknowledge your success in the way you wished she would. Why she kept belittling you even after you won against her again. But then again, she hadn’t even been proud when you had received your Anemo vision, so there probably was no point in asking yourself these questions over and over again.

But still, you couldn’t help it.

You detached the vision from your belt, cradling it in your hand as you stared at the turquoise orb that was embedded in the golden colored frame, its winged shape typical for Mondstadtian visions. The orb was glowing dimly, an indication that it hadn’t yet absorbed enough elemental particles for a full burst. It felt warm to the touch nevertheless, the weight oddly comforting as your thoughts drifted off. Until the day you had received your vision, you had never realized how much you felt trapped in your life. It had never occurred to you before that you needed freedom to achieve your goals, instead of putting more and more pressure on yourself. Freedom to figure out who you were and what you wanted to do with your life, because so far, you had only tried to live up to your parents’ expectations and somehow lost yourself along the way. And when you had found the vision on your pillow back then, it had almost felt like a wakeup call to stop wasting your time with trying to meet your family’s ridiculous standards. Suddenly, you had realized that their expectations were nothing more than restraints that held you back from finding your own path in life and that you needed to free yourself from them if you ever wanted to reach your objectives.

But realizing something and actually going through with it were two very different animals.

Sometimes, you still struggled with casting your parents’ demands and expectations aside, no matter how hard you tried to let go of the things that constantly pressed on your shoulders.

And maybe, true freedom was by far the hardest thing to obtain.

- - -

Later that day, after running a few more errands for the Knights and reporting back to your Captain, Eula Lawrence, you could finally return home. Your head hurt, your joints felt sore, and you seriously couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and change into more comfortable clothes. But when you reached your home, a small apartment in a house near the market square you had rented from an old friend of your parents, you changed your mind. Yes, a relaxed evening at home sounded incredibly good – but what sounded even better was to spend your well-deserved home time with the person you loved more than anything.

So, without any hesitation, you turned around, heading in the opposite direction until you spotted the familiar house with the timber framework that was nearly completely covered in ivy tendrils. Just the sight of it was enough to bring a smile to your face. You had so many wonderful memories of this place – and its owner, the ever so charming Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt, of course – that it felt almost like coming home.

Kaeya opened the door before you could knock, a soft smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and you felt a wave of relief washing over you. “Hi,” you said. The next second, you had already wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a much-needed hug.

“Well, if this isn’t my favorite person in the entire world,” he replied with a chuckle and kissed the top of your head, “hello there, sweetheart.”

You stayed like this for a few moments, indulging in each other’s presence but soon enough, Kaeya pulled away from your hug to invite you in and close the door behind you. The neighbors were already gossiping about your relationship way too much, they didn’t need more food for their assumptions. Only yesterday, the old lady from next door had asked him when he would finally propose to you because in her world, it was just inappropriate to basically live together while unmarried. “(Y/N) is such a good person,” she had told him then, gently nudging him with her elbow, “you better don’t let them get away, lad.”

“I won’t,” Kaeya had said. And he meant it. If things were easier, if he were someone with a less complicated past, he probably would have asked you to marry him months ago. But that was truly nothing but wishful thinking.

But anyways. Now certainly wasn’t the right time to muse about these things, not when you were standing right in front of him, the smile on your face not quite able to mask the turmoil of emotions that reflected in your eyes. “Rough day?” Kaeya asked softly, although he already knew the answer from the way you had basically thrown yourself into his arms as soon as he had opened the door. He pulled you close to his body again, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, taking in the subtle scent of his cologne. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

“My poor baby.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know. You’re probably tired of hearing the same complaints over and over again.”

Kaeya clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, I could never be tired of listening to you. If you need to vent I’m here. Okay?”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. But I think, right now I just want to shower and get out of these clothes.”

“Well, you know where the bathroom is. And I washed the clothes you left here a couple of days ago and put them in my dresser, top drawer,” Kaeya said. “Now, how about this: You go shower and I prepare dinner in the meantime. It’s always better to talk while you’re enjoying a nice meal, no?”

“Sounds lovely. You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

He watched you making your way down the hallway into his bedroom before you disappeared into the bathroom with a pile of clothes in your arms. Would you still be so comfortable around him if you knew that he had never been completely honest to you?

With a sigh, he opened the door to the kitchen. It was pointless to puzzle his head about these things. He should focus on the good things instead of constantly asking himself what would happen if you found out the truth. ‘And who knows?’ he thought in a fit of defiance. Maybe you wouldn’t be as upset and angry as he thought you would be. You loved him, didn’t you? So, why should you start hating him, just because his past was far more complicated than you assumed right now? Surely, your feelings for him wouldn’t change… right?

“Oh, stop it, you pathetic idiot” he mumbled to himself as he started to go through the fridge and the cabinets to figure out what he could cook for you. Thankfully, he had picked up a couple of groceries on his way home, or else, it would have been a pretty sad dinner, given the fact that he did only have a half empty bottle of wine and a block of cheese in his fridge this morning. He could imagine what you would have said in that case – in the past, you had told him often enough that he needed to eat properly to fuel his body and that he needed to take more care of himself. And funnily enough, Kaeya really had started to pay more attention to his health, shedding a few bad habits in the process, since you had officially started dating almost two and a half years ago. Sometimes, it still astounded him how much of an impact you and your love had on his life. Without you, he probably would’ve continued to slowly destroy himself with working too much, drinking too much, dwelling on the past too much. But every day, you made him see the good in this world – and the good in himself, too. You were the reason why he slowly started to believe that he wasn’t as dark and twisted as he always thought he was.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps Kaeya snapped out of his musings, and soon enough, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. “Can I help you?” you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt. The scent of your shampoo filled the air, a familiar, comforting smell that Kaeya would always associate with you.

“No,” he said, “just sit down and relax. You deserve some rest.”

- - -

“My mother challenged me to another battle today.”

Kaeya looked up from the dishes he had just placed on top of the counter. It surprised him that you wanted to talk about your day now, especially since you had carefully avoided the topic during dinner, but he didn’t mind it. He had offered to listen to you, after all, and so, he hummed in response, indicating that he was paying attention to the things you were going to tell him.

“I won,” you continued, a hint of reluctance in your voice, almost as if you were ashamed to admit your success. It was always like that – you kept selling yourself short, no matter how many people told you that you were doing great. And although Kaeya didn’t want to make any assumptions, it was pretty obvious that your parents were the reason for that. They rarely acknowledged your achievements; instead, they kept putting more and more pressure on you, demanding that you strived for perfection in every part of your life.

You sighed. “My mom acted like my victory was nothing but a sheer coincidence. I know I shouldn’t be so upset about that because that’s just how she is – she can’t admit when someone’s stronger or more skilled than her – but… I just hate it. I hate how she keeps belittling me – like I’m still a kid who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Like I haven’t achieved anything in my entire life.”

Kaeya remained silent for a while. It wasn’t the first time you were having this conversation, and he had no idea what to say. Not because the topic annoyed him, no. He just didn’t want to fob you off with empty phrases that would offer next to no comfort to you. Usually, he was quite good with words, and he took pride in the fact that he always knew what others needed to hear to feel better – but in moments like this, when it came to you, he always felt so helpless. If only you could see yourself the way he saw you… Then, you’d surely never doubt yourself again.

He turned around to face you, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed. “We both know that’s not true,” he said eventually. “You’re one of the best fighters among the Knights, (Y/N). Even Eula thinks the world of you. I don’t know why your parents refuse to see that but we really can count ourselves lucky to have someone like you with us.”

“Thank you. But you don’t need to say all that just to cheer me up. There is a dozen of people out there who are stronger than I could ever be.”

“(Y/N), sweetheart, stop.” He took a step towards you to reach out for your hand, interlacing your fingers. “If I could I would tell your mother that she finally needs to get over her jealousy but since it’s not up to me to do that I can only tell you that you have absolutely no reason not to be proud of yourself. You’ve done so much for Mondstadt.”

You sniffled. “But why can’t they see that?”

The helpless expression in your eyes broke his heart. Oh, how he hated to see you like this, so discouraged and insecure, although you should be happy and proud and confident. In the blink of an eye, Kaeya pulled you up from your chair and right into his arms. “Don’t let them discourage you,” he said, his breath softly brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. “I know it’s hard and I know you can’t help but have these thoughts sometimes but please believe when I tell you that you’re enough. You don’t need to put this pressure on yourself.”

You didn’t reply but he could tell that you were trying not to cry. Just the way you had started to tremble in his arms was enough to tell him that. He moved one of his hands to the back of your head as he cradled you. “You’re enough,” he repeated, the tone of his voice still so tender that you could feel yourself melt against him. But your tears kept flowing, streaming down your cheeks, no matter how hard you tried to pull yourself together. Your whole body was shaking as you sobbed into Kaeya’s chest, holding on to him for dear life.

It was rare that you lost your composure like that. Usually, you were quite good at controlling your emotions, carefully locking them away, until one day, the house of cards you had built up around you collapsed underneath the pressure that weighed your shoulders down.

Kaeya kissed the top of your head. “Shh,” he whispered, “it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He kept cradling you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, until your quiet sobs turned into equally quiet hiccups. And even then, he didn’t pull away. He would hold you in his arms as long as you needed him to, giving you all the support you deserved – and that your parents had always failed to show you. He could feel your lips quivering when you pressed a soft kiss to his skin, right above his collarbone. “Thank you,” you mumbled. In response, he only hugged you tighter. He had never told you and probably never would, but he knew all too well what it felt like to try to live up to others’ expectations, always afraid to fail. He understood you so well, and yet, he couldn't tell you.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider giving me some feedback and/or reblogging this chapter. I'd really appreciate the support!

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @ajaxstar @the-gayest-sky-kid @justrandomselfships @caesars-bubbles @the-fifteen @quixoticmirror (If you want to be added to the taglist send me an ask. Same if you want to be removed. <3)

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x gn!reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #the abyss prince #jj's series

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inosakutema · 8 months

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⚘ 𝚰𝐍𝐎 𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐁𝚰𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝚰𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓

— September 23rd is Ino Yamanaka's birthday! We compiled a list of 23 facts about her in celebration of her special day.

🌼 DAY 1:

Sakura is the youngest and second tallest female of her trio and her generation after Temari. She was born on September 23rd and she’s 165cm tall, the same height as Sakura Haruno, according to her Blank Period official adult character design provided by Studio Pierrot.

She also has the longest hair length of her generation, it grows past her knees at more than 130 cm!

🌼 DAY 2:

Ino is the kunoichi with the least outfit and hair changes of her generation in canon including The Last: Naruto the Movie and she sticks to one style.

She’s known for her stylish crop tops and short skirts with fishnets, which she has never abandoned and has been wearing since genin to adult. In the past, she used to wear her Konoha headband around her hips. Her representative color is purple, which she always in her clothes with some bits of grey in the fishnets.

Her hair has also never changed throughout the eras. She prefers to wear her long hair in a high ponytail like her father except in the Blank Period where we saw her only change, loose hair.

🌼 DAY 3:

Ino is the only married kunoichi that kept her family name due to marrying a man without surname. Sai, a former ANBU ROOT born without a given name, adopted the name Yamanaka and entered their family now as "Yamanaka Sai". This way, Ino is still "Yamanaka Ino".

In the manga, although not in the original designs, Sai also follows the family tradition of wearing a ponytail.

🌼 DAY 4:

Sakura is the fourth most popular kunoichi of Naruto according to the official manga character popularity polls during serialization.

Adding all the polls together, she obtained 2.770 points, earning the fourth place overall among the female characters. Link to the third databook character popularity poll.

She was also voted the 44th most popular Naruto character in Naruto Worldwide Character Popularity Poll NARUTOP99 and the 10th most popular kunoichi with 10.276 daily votes. Link to the poll results.

🌼 DAY 5:

Ino embodies the meaning of the Purple Bush Clover according to her father. It's the flower in the Yamanaka crest and although it's not related to their name, a bush clover is a plant that grows in subtropical temperatures that represents optimistic love.

It also means she treasures the bonds with her friends.

🌼 DAY 6:

Ino is the second most experienced kunoichi of her trio and third of her generation. She completed 40 missions in total by age 16, one of the reasons being Team 10 staying in Konohagakure during the break.

🌼 DAY 7:

According to some official manga colorings by Masashi Kishimoto Ino has blueish green, turquoise and sky blue eye colors. Although all versions seem to be canon but rather confusing, blue is her official eye color.

🌼 DAY 8:

Besides her active job as a ninja of Konohagakure, Ino has also actively contributed to the village in other fields. She used to help her parents in their family business "Yamanaka Flowers" part-time, and now she's a full-time shop assistant.

Similarly, Sakura has worked in Konoha Hospital since she was 16 and is now the Head of the Medical Department and was also a member of the Cypher Corps; while Temari was the Kazekage’s bodyguard and ambassador and now she’s the Ambassador between Konohagakure and Sunagakure.

🌼 DAY 9:

Out of 700 chapters of Naruto, Ino appears in 134. Link to the manga count.

She’s the 2nd most important kunoichi according to the plot and screen time, right behind Sakura Haruno.

🌼 DAY 10:

Despite only focusing on Yamanaka secret techniques to fight, which are supporting techniques by manipulating Yin Release, Ino’s elemental affinities include Water and Earth just like Sakura.

She's also the only kunoichi besides Temari to use elemental chakra in the manga: Earth Release, although Sakura uses Water Release in her medical ninjutsu technique Cellular Extraction Healing Technique.

Like Sakura does in the novel, Ino uses Fire Release in the anime.

🌼 DAY 11:

Ino is the only kunoichi to wear the new Chūnin vest. This is because her everyday clothes aren't suited for missions, so she prefers to wear Konohagakure's official shinobi uniform with the dark blue jumpsuit underneath.

🌼 DAY 11:

Ino's parents own their family business "Yamanaka Flowers", but, when Inoichi died, Ino became the salesperson with her mother being absent in canon.

Sai and Inojin also run the flowershop with her, meaning that Ino is the only kunoichi that shares responsibilities with her husband, unlike Sakura and Temari who work alone.

🌼 DAY 13:

According to the Fourth Databook, Ino's favorite object is the flower she gave Sakura when they were children. In the kunoichi classes, Ino gives Sakura a cosmos, the prettiest flower of the Fall.

As kids, Ino told Sakura she might become a prettier flower than the cosmos when she blossomed and it has become a symbol of their friendship.

🌼 DAY 14:

Because Ino is a support-type that can't fight solo and her secret techniques were created to aid others in battle, Masashi Kishimoto described her as a kunoichi that comes up with smart plans to run away from her enemies in the First Databook.

🌼 DAY 15:

According to the First Fanbook, Ino had overall the highest grades among the kunoichi in the Academy, so she was the top kunoichi of the class. She was well-matched with Sakura, praised for being intelligent and scoring 100 in every test and both were great students, while Temari grew to be the strongest of her generation.

🌼 DAY 16:

As genin, Ino preferred to wear the Konohagakure headband around her hips.

However, after part I she stopped wearing the Konohagakure headband and she's the only kunoichi that did this, even with the official shinobi uniform. The reason behind this is unknown.

🌼 DAY 17:

Like many other families of Konohagakure, the Yamanaka share their own unique physical appearance and traditions, making them easy to identify. Yamanakas are usually blond with very long hair that they wear in a high ponytail, very pale skin and blue eyes.

🌼 DAY 18:

In Japanese, the word "Ino" (猪) means "boar" and "Yamanaka" (山中) means "among the mountains". Her full name means "a boar among the mountains" but it doesn't have anything to do with her family, it represents the wild boars of Japan.

Her name's meaning is the reason why Sakura calls Ino "Ino-pig".

🌼 DAY 19:

Her name was chosen carefully to recreate a popular Japanese card game. Team 10's famous formation "Ino-Shika-Chō" comes from the Hanafuda card combination of the boar (Ino), the deer (Shika) and the butterfly (Chō). This combination (猪鹿蝶) was shown for the first time in ending 11 of Boruto.

This is the second most valuable combination of the game behind the Gokō, where Sakura is included.

🌼 DAY 20:

During the Fourth Shinobi World War, Ino was assigned to the Fifth Unit, the Special battle unit. That group gathered specialist in secret techniques including the the Inuzuka clan and Shino Aburame.

🌼 DAY 21:

Even though this has never been explicitly confirmed, episode 172 of Boruto implies Ino became the best user of Yamanaka secret techniques.

Ino could possibly become one of the kunoichi to be considered “the best” at her field along with being Sakura hailed as the best medical ninja and strongest kunoichi in the world and Temari being the best Wind Release user in her village and the world and best tessenjutsu user.

🌼 DAY 22:

The Yamanaka is the smallest clan of Konohagakure with only 4 members confirmed in Naruto. After the death of Inoichi and Fū, in Boruto the only ones left are Sai by marriage, Inojin and Ino.

Santa Yamanaka's whereabouts are unknown and it might be possible that he perished in the war.

🌼 DAY 23:

In the new era, Ino is a florist as a full-time job while leading Konoha's Barrier Team from her spot in the shop. This new automatic sensing system can detect intruders and save their unique chakra signature in a database.

With Psycho Mind Transmission Ino has done a session of mind reading.

Ino has been seen training Inojin in Mind Body Switch.

According to Naruto Gaiden she's still an active chūnin and has been at least in one mission.

Original post.

Sakura birthday post original - Edited version. Temari birthday post.

#ino yamanaka #yamanaka ino #yamanaka clan #saiino #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #temari #temari nara #inosakutema #boruto #naruto #山中いの誕生祭2023 #山中いの生誕祭2023 #山中いの

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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 years

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My minibang fic is mutichap so here we go for Invisobang 2022! For the minibang I was partnered with the fabulous and talented @astravis whose art will be posted along with the sixth and final chapter on Friday, so stay tuned!

(Chap two) (Ch 3) (ch. four) (five) (and 6)

BREAKING: NASA Lands Earths First Manned Spacecraft on Mars!

The creepy Fenton kid and the town's resident ghost hero go missing on the same day, and for weeks Amity Park is all abuzz about it. If the timing is suspicious, the doctors Fenton don't think anything of it. But Sam and Tucker think they can find Danny and bring him back. In fact, they're certain of it.

On a cold, steel table, in a certain lab, in a sprawling, labyrinthine, top secret facility, there is a boy named Danny.

[A tragedy following the wake of Danny's disappearance and the strange set of circumstances revealed between five points of view. But how did he get caught in the first place? And where did he go?]

Chapter 1: Space Case (Read it on AO3)

[Warning: dissection/vivisection, dissociation]

On a cold, steel table, in a certain lab, in a sprawling, labyrinthine, top secret facility, there is a boy named Danny. He is strapped down tightly with electrified restraints, his chest and abdomen cut wide open to make his insides easily accessible to the scientists examining him, a large needle lanced through his temple into his brain. Any other boy would be dead in Danny's condition. However, Danny is only half dead, and more importantly, he is half alive.

The situation he is in has lost all of its novelty to him. Though he has no idea how long he's been there, maybe days, maybe months, maybe longer or less—the horrific has become mundane. Where once he felt indescribable pain, he now feels nothing. Where once he screamed, he now is silent. Desensitized to the agony, absent from his senses, his mind wanders—as it often did before being ripped from his ordinary life, and brought here—to space. None of this would be happening to him if he was in space, he thinks.

Space is unfathomably enormous. So big, he's heard it said, that in the time it would take for one to finish describing its vastness, it would already have fucktoupled in size. The thought would once have quirked his lips up in a smile, but now his lips are stone. Space is home to trillions of planets, and trillions of stars, and trillions of other celestial bodies, and based on those numbers, it's statistically impossible that humans are the only intelligent life in the universe.

However due to the gargantuan nature of the universe, it is equally unlikely that humans will ever meet other intelligent life forms from across the many galaxies, light-years upon light-years away. Danny has always taken that as a challenge. He is going to go to space one day. No matter how much the odds are against it, he wants to discover alien life-forms. Even if he doesn't, he thinks, he'll fail among the stars, and that's a whole lot more interesting than failing in the dirt.

Before all this, Danny always kept up with the latest advancements in space travel and astronomy, and he wonders how much he's missed while trapped here. He used to try to escape, but now he's just tired. At least he has plenty of time to think now. Since he was four years old, he's been studying to be an astronaut. If research and development go smoothly, according to his timeline, he thought he'd be an astronaut in time to join the first manned mission to Mars.

That doesn't look as likely now.

No Mars Rover engineer ever cut open a fourteen-year-old. At least, he's pretty sure. And in space there are no ghosts, and no suffering, and no grossly unethical science. He could still do it, he thinks, as though he is not on a table, in a lab, in a top secret facility.

It's hard to be present in his own body now, to feel, to see, to taste, and hear, and smell. It's easier to forget where he is, who he is. He can't tell if he's Fenton or Phantom anymore. He can check, open his eyes, force his blurry vision to focus long enough to see if the hair falling into his face is black or white but... which belongs to which? He looks down and sees a slimy pink organ being roughly jerked upwards, out of his open torso.

Fenton then. Phantom doesn't have any of those, he thinks as he feels himself floating upwards, looking down on himself, and the scientists, watching everything, but at the same time not really paying attention. He hasn't moved, but he's not there anymore, not as far as he can tell.

He can remember some of the discoveries in the first day or two, the feeling of foreign fingers sifting through the ectoplasmic goo in Phantom's chest cavity where Fenton has a heart and lungs, the dreadful, icy feeling when a gloved fingernail brushed against his core, and he froze the whole lab and everyone there in an instant, defending his ghost half's only vital organ. They have the technology to clear the ice quickly, though they decided to put off experimenting with his core to a later date.

As Fenton, however, there is no soft bubbling and fizzing of ectoplasm, instead the sloshing and squishing of flesh and fluids fills the air, along with the smell of antiseptic and raw meat. The sensation of someone else's hand, reaching inside him and pulling out foot after foot of intestine where in his ghost form there is only green fog and ghostly swamp sludge.

"Subject continues to regenerate lost organs," says a male voice which Danny has grown familiar with, though he still has not been able to put a name to it. The man is referred to as Dr. H, and nothing else. "Thus far there does not appear to be an upper limit to the subject's healing factor, even when deprived of oxygen. According to our sensors, the subject has not taken in oxygen in the last six days and nine hours, approximately."

Has he really not breathed in over six days? Danny wonders. He hasn't even thought about it, but in retrospect, that seems right. Breathing hurts—everything hurts—so he stopped doing it. He doesn't try to breathe. He doesn't hurt anymore, doesn't feel anything.

A door opens. The door. There's only one door in the room as far as Danny is aware, and no windows. He remembers checking when he first got there, but it takes him a few seconds to remember why. It was probably the getting nabbed and strong armed into ghost proof bonds that put him off to the idea at first, but the clinical laboratory, suspicious vials of colored goo, and medical equipment that looks like torture devices, didn't ease his worries.

"Ah, Miss Fenton," Dr. H greets. "I was hoping to get a quick evaluation of the subject's psychological state. It hasn't screamed in over a week, and hasn't been breathing lately. It doesn't appear to be in danger of destabilizing or dissolving, which would put a halt to our research, but I am worried that it may be in danger of turning into a full ghost and losing its human attributes if it cannot maintain its humanoid psyche."

"Danny?" It's Jazz. Jazz is here! She's here! Why... why does that matter? "Are you there?"

"Somewhere," he responds, voice floating out of his mouth with no force behind it. To speak without breath always felt strange to him in the past, but he's not thinking about that now. He's excited to see his sister, though he can't remember why. He's angry, or maybe he's afraid. Maybe he feels nothing at all. Should he?

She smiles at him, a sad, pitying smile, but there is horror behind her eyes, and he vaguely wonders why. "Are you in pain? How are you feeling?"

"Dunno... should I be?" he asks. "How can I be?"

"Well?" Dr. H cuts in. "Can I continue or not?"

"I believe his body is fine." She sounds relieved. Her voice is wracked with guilt when she speaks again. "In my opinion, he seems to have entered a severe dissociative state. He is aware of his situation, but his brain has disconnected itself from everything to protect him, so he may feel as though he does not exist, or as though he is watching what's happening like a movie, rather than experiencing it."

"Excellent," says Dr. H, as though that's the best possible answer she could have given. "That means the subject is complacent, and in an excellent state to be moved for the next stage of experiments." A radio crackled with static. "Agent Q, ready the ecto-repulsive vacuum chamber, over."

"Affirmative, Dr. H, over and out," a voice hissed back through the radio.

"I do not believe that's the best—" Jazz tries to say, but she doesn't get to the end of her sentence before Dr. H cuts her off dismissively.

"Thank you Miss Fenton, that will be all. I have to stitch it back up before we can begin experimenting in the vacuum chamber." After a moment, the door opens and closes again. "Activating subject's spectral transformation to increase the speed of its healing factor and thus the likelihood that it will be able to withstand vacuum chamber experiments." Dr. H tweaks the needle in Danny's brain and as the white rings wash over his body, he is hypnotized by them.

They are like the rings of Saturn, thin and white and cold, made of ice and rock and space dust, a hundred and seventy thousand miles across, and only thirty feet thick, circling the gaseous planet like fan blades. He knows it's unlikely, but Danny hopes to see them in person one day, too. Maybe as mankind encroaches further outward into space, they'll send a manned mission to Titan, or Enceladus. Maybe he can be on it.

By the time Dr. H and Agent Q transfer Danny into the vacuum chamber, his mind is long gone again, in a vacuum of its own, marveling at the beauty of Saturn's rings as he looks down from one of its moons. Outer space never ceases to amaze, and Danny is struck dumb by its radiance.

#dissection tw #dissociation tw #human experimentation tw #danny phantom #danny fenton #guys in white #angst #dp #space science #space imagery #fic #invisobang 2022 #breaking: NASA lands earth’s first manned spacecraft on mars #why oh why did I give it such a long title T-T #chapter one #things i wrote

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amyisherenowitsokay · 1 year

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War on Love (discontinued fic)

Plot Synopsis

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Content warnings for: lots of death, attempted, actual murder, mentions of contemplating suicide, trauma, depression

For individual character analysis, writer commentary, themes, etc. please see the masterpost with appropriate links here.

WoL has roughly 53k worth of unpublished, written words, while it's previously unannounced sequel has the first 4 chapters finished and written, which turns out to be about 25k words.

So to start with, for those who need a refresher, here's a REALLY BRIEF summary of the currently published chapters of WoL, condensed to the bare minimum because otherwise it'd be so long it'd need its own post:

Summary

Gaz (12) goes with Dib (14) to investigate on a few of his missions. Zim discovers his mission and he himself are just a joke to the Tallest, getting the truth from Skoodge. Tak appears on Earth with a damaged MiMi, intent on vengeance against everyone and anyone who played the slightest part in her previous downfall on Earth. (Morgan) Dwicky returns to Earth, intent on saving his Plookesian comrades from death-by-space-dementia-equivalent, called Degradation, selling his servitude to Zim in exchange for help.

Through a series of danger and chaos, Zim, Gaz, and Dib end up allying to defeat Tak and keep her from killing them/destroying the Earth. Gaz obtains blackmail of Zim without his disguise. She uses the threat of its publication against Zim, and its destruction against Dib, to maintain a tenuous peace. Dwicky is enlisted to act as their counselor/chaperon/plausible excuse for the Membrane's to be running all across the country/missing school, as well as offering his services as an arm's dealer and general muscle-bodyguard-space-murderer-things. Zim agrees to hold the Plookesians hostage in a suspension pod until Dwicky finishes helping them with Tak. Dib distances his investigation from the Swollen Eyeball Network publicly, for the sake of the mission, enraging its members. Where we last left off, Zim's initial antagonism was beginning to turn into admiration towards her practical, ruthless nature, which differs from her extremely moralistic sibling.

Tak, after escaping from Zim's brief capture via MiMi's aid, loses her SIR unit when she is 'rescued' by transients, causing MiMi to lose track of her. Assumed homeless/transient, she eventually engenders empathy from a similarly misfortunate human, Peter. Eventually, upon regaining her memory, and unable to locate MiMi, Tak blackmails Peter into becoming her new sidekick. She promises him that she'll use her technology to fix Peter's younger brother, Michael, whom was injured in a violent street brawl, in exchange for his 'loyal' servitude. It is unclear if Michael will ever wake up, or if his neurological damage is permanent.

Additional side characters include a psychic, Rita, and her formerly military wife, Myra, whom the Membranes encounter during Dib's investigation into Rita's authenticity. Rita warns the Membrane's of approaching imminent danger, as well as hints towards knowing a 'secret' of Gaz's that freaks the younger Membrane out. Rita and Myra later enlist the help of an old soldier friend, Donovan, to help track them down and keep an eye on them. All three are semi-retired members of the SEN. Donovan's efforts are aided by his adopted and technologically savvy son, Brian. Raine, formerly Myra and Donovan's military superior, is called in by Donovan for additional backup.

Continuation

For easiest reading, I'm going to summarize the direction of the plot, and then go into the details of how the story was going to play out.

The Rest of the Story Summary

Essentially, the main theme of WoL was the different ways each character finds love and affection, the different forms it comes in, and the ways in which that love uniquely ends up fucking over each and every one of them. As stated early on, in Chapter 1's introductory pages:

The general plot is that all the OC's and the main band of Dib, Gaz, Zim, and Dwicky all team up to face Tak. Meanwhile, Tak develops a really toxic, kind of sick attachment to Peter. His mutual attraction and terror of her continues to fuel the complicated nature of their relationship throughout the story. Now with a base, Tak begins stealing neighborhood pets and mutating them into monstrous, eyeless creatures referred to as Hounds. They're roughly the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, but they're blind, relying on smell and sound to to pinpoint their targets. She begins developing these creatures while also continuing with killings on her hitlist.

Zim, Dwicky, Gaz, Dib, and the OC gang all chase Tak across the city, foiling her smaller plans and tracking her ongoing murders. They discover prototypes of the Hounds, but are unsure of what the goal is, assuming she plans to use the Hounds as some sort of crude assassination method. The adults all develop a sense of familial, usually paternal obligation towards the Membranes, and even Zim. Initially, they bristle at the perceived threat to their independence, but eventually warm to it in their own ways. Dwicky and Donovan in particular butt heads over their methods of 'parenting,' with Donovan furious at how much he danger he allows the Membrane's to get in, and Dwicky fighting against the developing familial relationship/unintended bonds he's forming with the youths he's come to be in charge of.

Tak begins to develop a strange, toxic relationship with Peter that neither party understands nor knows how to appropriately manage.

Things take a more dramatic turn for Peter when Tak announces she's aware of his infatuation, reminding him that she is not human, and incapable of reciprocating. Furthermore, she expects that his feelings will not make him less competent, and warns him not to slip into complacency.

In spite of her warnings, their partnership grows oddly affectionate, and Tak begins to loosen up, engaging in some back-and-forth and being more lenient with her orders and his tendency to be so mouthy.

Things escalate the more Tak refines her Hounds, until eventually, this little number from Ch 1 becomes relevant again:

Zim, Gaz, Dib, Dwicky, and Co. manage to locate the warehouse Tak was using to develop her Hounds on a larger scale. Unfortunately, she escapes, using the freed Hounds as a distraction. Cornered and separated, Zim and Dib are stuck in the warehouse, with Gaz and Dwicky fleeing together. During this scuffle, Gaz's secret is at last revealed: Gaz is, and has always been, partially blind. It's why she squints so much. It's the secret Rita eluded to, and one Dib has several times as well, adding cause for his protectiveness. She uses contacts developed by her father to aid in her vision, but unfortunately, during the fight, they are knocked out of her eyes, leaving her incredibly vulnerable.

Gaz and Dwicky end up hiding out in a diner.

Unfortunately for them, Tak finds them. While she cares little for Dwicky, he stands in her way. He declines her bribes, and ultimately, for his efforts, is killed, making him the first death of WoL.

That does in fact mean Dwicky, from the grave, was the chapter 1 first-person narrator.

The rest of the gang arrives too late to save him, but their intervention does give Dwicky enough time to say goodbye to 'his kids'.

Traumatized by their vulnerability, the loss of their preferred paternal figure, and death conceptually, deal with the fallout. Since Dib's uninjured, it's his turn to deal with the logistics while Gaz and Zim hide from the authorities that are (naturally) involved in the mysterious homicide of a man who's been missing for 5 years, just to show up dead in a pub.

Gaz and Zim discuss several heavy topics at length, one of which is Dwicky's Plookesian friends.

Ultimately, they decide to leave to leave that decision to Dib, being that he is the group's moral compass. They decide to bring it up when things clear up, and they have more breathing room.

Gaz's disability is also discussed, revealing more details of its origin.

Dib continues to avoid the subject of Gaz's disability, and their mother's mortality whenever Zim tries to corner him.

The children (Zim included) are cushioned as best as they can by the adult OC's. After Dwicky's death, Professor Membrane becomes involved. The trio come up with the excuse that they've hired private bodyguards (the OC's) and now need a mental health vacation, buying them some time.

Gaz is forced to sit on the sidelines until her new contacts arrive. Dib and Zim mutually refuse to leave her side. All of them nurse wounds and grief in the aftermath. Zim becomes excessively protective of the Membrane's, with he and Dib taking 'shifts' to aid Gaz in visual tasks and general day-to-day functionality while she remains blind for several days. With her vision returned, Gaz tells the truth about her mother's death.

Gaz's mother was ill, and suffered a heart attack while Gaz was home alone with her. Blind and panicking and only a toddler, Gaz miscounted her steps down the staircase in an effort to reach the phone, fell, and was injured to unconsciousness. She was found and able to recover in a hospital only to discover her mother had passed.

Wanting to keep an eye on his children and be nearby in case they need them, Professor Membrane coincidentally hosts a large conference in the city, inviting his children to attend, and painting an enormous target on his back. Tak's plans escalate, and call for the destruction of the entire conference center and all associated parades, with horrific potential regarding death tolls.

Peter finally isn't able to stomach her killing anymore, and puts his foot down, warning the Membrane's and fleeing to try and stop the plan himself, individually, as well. However, Tak catches him, and forces him into the car with her and the bombs, so that he is forced to watch her set and detonate them.

Aware of her plan, but too late to stop it, Gaz makes a decision.

Unfortunately for the Membrane's, it's not Tak who ends up dying.

Peter's death fractures the tenuous grasp of sanity Tak had been holding onto. She blames herself, but more importantly blames Zim, Dib, and Gaz.

Naturally, this escalates things further.

Tak sets loose the final stages of her plan, which is a three-hitter:

Phase 1 - Release the Hounds all across the city at the same time Phase 2 - Emulate several natural disasters, including earthquakes, tornados, fires, and floods Phase 3 - A special surprise just for the trio

PHASE 1

The trio gets separated pretty fast. If I'm remembering my original plans correctly, Dib and Zim were out scouting while Gaz was home monitoring the cameras. The OC's were in various locations across the city scouting as well when the first wave of Hounds were released, inciting riots, panic, and chaos. Zim and Dib quickly lose contact with her when cell towers begin to fail. Rather that stay home, Gaz goes looking for her sibling and love-interest, and does her best to protect people where she can.

Eventually, Gaz finds Zim and Dib in the chaos. She is however injured by a Hound in their effort to get to where Tak has set up, in a huge skyscraper in the center of the city.

She dislocates her shoulder, leaving her down an arm. They are however able to get ahold of the OC's team. Through a scrambled signal, they agree to all continue to head towards Tak's location and meeting one another there for the final battle.

Zim, Dib, and Gaz's group reaches Tak first. Not able to risk waiting for the OC's, the try to enter without them, only for Dib to be grievously injured by debris in an explosion. He collapses, the OC's arriving only in time to see Gaz captured. Zim, sensing at last how dangerous this situation has become, demands they prioritize helping Dib while he goes to rescue Gaz, forbidding anymore humans from being involved.

Zim fights his way to Tak for the final showdown.

It's revealed that Tak has created a ship, designed to send Gaz into space and explode, killing her in a bright, easily-visible-from-Earth explosion.

Eventually, they fight. Zim manages to get the upper hand, seemingly defeating Tak. He frees Gaz, celebrating briefly until Tak reveals the entirety of her Phase 3's plan.

Gaz makes the decision ultimately to sacrifice herself for the greater good, inspired by the love for her brother, the newly instilled desire to help others, and to protect Zim.

Zim, naturally, has other plans.

Zim tricks the pod, replacing Gaz, and goes inside of it. It locks behind him, preparing a countdown for launching into space. Gaz is unable to stop it, and Zim is incapable with so little time. The two say their goodbyes.

Zim is promptly launched into space. Spectators fear the worst, seeing a missile launch, but it never comes back down.

Donovan intercepts Gaz as she exits the building. She holds a PAK with a hole in it (which is not a result of Zim's fight with her, leading the reader to realize that Gaz caused that injury on her own). When asked where Zim is, Gaz only looks at the strange 'firework flare' now disappearing into the sky, leaving a series of explosions in its wake. Donovan understands the implication, and takes her home.

The tale, at last, comes to an end, but there is an epilogue.

Full Epilogue (Post In Progress)

#amyisherenowitsokay #ravenfollower13 #war on love #war on love synopsis #war on love plot summary #invader zim #iz #fanfiction #iz fanfiction #zagr #discontinued

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runesandramblings · 1 year

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"To The Ends of The Earth"

Hello all,

I have not written anything on here in a while, but I had this idea after a dream and couldn't let it go.

I'll make a separate short informational post on the premise of the story / explain the OC I created for it after this, so if you're seeing this click over to my page for that. :)

Word Count: TBD / ongoing

Content Warnings: none, follows the events from The Hobbit so there will be the expected violence from the movies

Pairings: KilixOC

Themes: crossover Marvel x Tolkien, romance, fanfic, canon-ish events

Summary:

In the wake of The Blip, the multi-verse has expanded knowledge of the universe in ways no one thought possible. For the first time, journeying between realms and realities is a tangible possibility.

Ex-SHIELD agent and Avenger, Lilith Lenore, is hiding from her past, shunning the life she once led. But when an offer from a wizard of another world is extended, she cannot refuse.

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Guest

FLAG SMASHERS CONTINUE RAMPAGE ACROSS EUROPE

I pulled the edges of my hood down lower over my eyes as I skimmed the headline. It caught my eye, the big bold lettering with a photo of the Flag Smasher's emblem directly beneath. No matter where I went, I couldn't seem to escape the life I was desperately trying to leave behind.

"Ma'am?"

An impatient male voice broke through my reverie. I looked up to see the man behind the window of the food truck, tapping his fingers impatiently, watching me as I zoned out.

"Oh, sorry." I apologized and stepped up to the counter. I gestured to the item on the menu I'd had my eye on and handed him a few bills. "I don't need any change."

"Did you want a paper too?" He questioned, noting what had sidetracked me.

I shook my head. "No, thank you." I mumbled, still feeling my attention wandering elsewhere.

I was aware that Bucky and Sam were currently in pursuit of the Flag Smashers, wherever that was exactly. They had reached out to me several weeks prior, begging me to come meet them to assist in tracking down the rebels.

"It would be just like old times." Sam joked over the phone, referencing our time together as fugitives before The Blip. Before we'd lost Steve. Before we really knew just how much loss we would experience.

"Consider me officially retired from the whole hero gig." I'd joked, before wishing them luck on their mission.

"Here you go." The gentleman behind the window handed me a brown paper bag and a couple of napkins, snapping me back to reality once again. "Stay dry out there."

I smiled gratefully as I took the bag and slipped it into my backpack, before dipping back out onto the street. Despite the hood pulled up over my forehead I could still feel cold droplets of rain pelting me through the fabric. Another freezing, dismal day.

After the last showdown with Thanos I had decided to slip quietly away and make myself disappear. New York was too hectic, and too full of memories. People who recognized me as a hero or, after Natasha dumped SHIELD secrets for all to see, people who despised me for my past. I don't know why Seattle had come to mind. Perhaps because it was on the opposite coast, as far away from New York City as one could reasonably get without leaving the States.

The walk sign blinked green and I darted across the road. I desperately tried to think of something, anything else as I followed the familiar route back to my apartment. My thoughts kept drifting back, all the way back to that first battle. My first time meeting the rest of who would become the Avengers. My family. That life...it felt like a thousand years ago. Sometimes I missed it. But most of the time, well. I valued my sanity. After being attacked by alien armies, maniacal robots, other heroes, and a madman with a dream to wipe out half of life as we knew it, I think it was fair that I'd cashed in an early retirement.

I was a lesser known part of the Avengers, but nevertheless I'd been there for every world shattering, life altering event. The Chitauri in New York, Ultron, Thanos, the Blip... I'd been there to help save the day every time. I didn't have a fancy title, and I rarely made the headlines as Steve and Tony did. I liked it that way. Much like Natasha, I had a sordid past that I much preferred to keep in the shadows.

I took my hood down and shook my hair free as I stepped through the door of my building. I heard the rain pick up outside, immediately grateful for the shelter as raindrops splashed against the glass panes surrounding the foyer. It was a simple building, certainly nothing to be ashamed of. But nothing to put in Better Homes & Gardens either. The building itself was small, a simple brick structure only three stories high with about six units on each level. The foyer I was standing in had only one set of doors going in or out, which had to be some kind of fire hazard. There was a staircase centered in the middle of the room with an aging wood bannister that worked itself loose every so often. At least once a month you'd find a maintenance man at work, securing it back in place. There were tattered, green carpet scraps glued in pieces to each step. The building mainly housed the elderly, and after several slip complaints the building owner had sloppily laid the carpet down as a preventative measure. Although now the pieces were beginning to fray and come unglued on the edges, which presented a new hazard all its own.

"Well, hello Samantha."

I smiled warmly as a small, slightly hunched woman with almost white hair hobbled down the last few steps into the tiny lobby. She wore a faded black skirt and a green wool sweater draped loosely across her shoulders, as though she'd been in a rush to get out the door and didn't have time to put it all the way on. The bedroom slippers she wore were mismatched, one a navy blue with white fur poking around the top, and the other a bright pink. She shuffled across the floor towards me, offering a kind smile in return.

I felt a slight pang of guilt at her mention of my alias. It was a necessary precaution to live the quiet life I desired, but I couldn't help but feel as though I were deceiving the kind old woman. She'd taken me in from the moment I'd moved into the building nearly a year before. She'd noticed the lack of friends or relatives coming to visit after the first few weeks and made it a point to knock on my door at least once a week and invite me over for dinner. Weekly dinners eventually led to shared holidays, joint grocery trips, and almost nightly conversations over tea. She had lost her only daughter and husband to an accident in her 40s and never remarried or had any more children. I think our relationship became therapeutic to her. We were the family that neither of us had.

"Hi Mrs. Figueroa, you aren't going out into that are you?" I questioned, gesturing to the storm raging outside.

She shook her head as she slowly began to shuffle past me. I kept a watchful eye on her feet as she moved. The cheap linoleum tiles had begun to peel up from the floor, and there were several upturned corners that presented a tripping hazard for the elderly building occupants.

"Oh no, not today. Just heading down to the laundry." She began to hobble past me to the second, very steep set of stairs in the far corner of the room that led down into the basement.

I immediately caught up to her and offered my arm. Her warm smile grew as she laced her thin, delicate arm through mine. I felt another small pang of guilt. She reminded me so much of my dear, sweet grandmother. The one I had...

I shook my head again. Not right now.

"Are you sure you should be going into the basement by yourself? I can take your clothes out and bring them up to you when we have tea later." I offered.

Mrs. Figueroa shook her head. "No thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate the thought, but chores keep me limber." She patted my hand as she released my arm and grasped the railing that led into the basement. "My door will be unlocked, so just pop in whenever!" She called over her shoulder as she descended into the darkness.

I stood at threshold and listened as she moved slowly down the stairs, ensuring she hadn't fallen before crossing the room and skipping up the main staircase to the third floor. I walked down the hall and stopped before the very last door at the end. I glanced around at the neighboring units as I pulled my key from the side pocket of my backpack. My apartment was easily distinguishable from the ones around me, even if it didn't have my unit number, 3F, slapped lazily in the center with black vinyl letters. Mine was the only one without some semblance of the life that existed inside: no welcome mat, no wreath. The only evidence there was an occupant living within its walls was my constant presence going in and out on a daily basis. As I started to slip my key into the lock, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

Something was wrong.

I held my breath and pressed my ear lightly to the door. I closed my eyes and willed my ears to listen closer, flexing that ability I hadn't had to access in ages. My eyes flew open as I heard breathing, and a light shuffling coming from the other side of the door. Sounds that would not have been perceptible to average human ears.

Someone was inside.

I tiptoed backward, bringing my weight down lightly on the balls of my feet to avoid putting too much weight on the creaky floorboards. I could only hope whoever, or whatever, was inside didn't possess the same heightened senses I did. Hopefully they had not heard my approach.

I jogged lightly back down the stairs and across the foyer, throwing open the front door to my building and pulling my hood back up to protect against the pelting rain that had increased in ferocity since I'd entered the building five minutes before. I rounded the corner and approached the backside of the building. My apartment only had one door, but my bedroom had a small balcony with a set of rickety old French doors that I rarely bolted shut. I was on the highest floor, and routinely locked myself out. It seemed a worthwhile risk to leave myself an alternate entrance for those occasions. I wasn't too worried about an intruder scaling three stories to break in.

I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before I began the ascent. Although I was not necessarily in hiding, I still didn't want to draw attention to myself. I leapt with ease and felt my hands latch onto the railing around the second floor balcony, the one down and to the left of my own apartment. I swung myself up with ease and perched lightly on the rail for a moment before turning and leaping again, catching the edge of my own balcony and flipping myself with ease a second time to land squarely in the center of my porch. I grimaced as I felt the boards give slightly under my weight, hoping the noise had not alerted the intruder to my presence.

I held my breath and slowly turned the handle, praying for silence from the old door hinges. I reached down and lifted up the hem of my jeans, my fingers grasping the familiar blade I kept tucked into my boot at all times. I slipped it out and grasped it firmly in my palm as I poked my head just inside the double doors. My bedroom appeared just as I left it an hour earlier. The same faded, red painted walls with the previous occupants nail holes still speckled around at random intervals. The floor was still bare, the same unpolished hardwood with small flecks of that red paint on it from the landlords sloppy paint job from who knew how long ago. The queen sized mattress on the floor, I hadn't bothered to find a frame or boxspring even, pushed up against the far left wall. It was unmade from that morning, a mismatched comforter and sheet set crumpled at the foot of the bed. On the opposite wall rested the only other items in the room: a scuffed oak dresser with a tiny TV on top. I didn't know why I had a TV; I didn't even have internet. It was easy enough to sign a lease under my fake ID, but I worried about pushing it too far by setting up services under the name. I didn't want to draw attention to myself.

I slipped silently across the floor, moving with a cat-like agility despite the loose boards that threatened to creak at any moment. It was amazing how quickly I could slip back into this headspace. How fast I could revert back to Lilith, the spy. Not Samantha, the simple girl next door alias I'd assumed.

I paused as I reached the bedroom door. I hadn't quite thought ahead to what I would do once I made it this far. Aside from the blade, the only other weapon in my apartment was a gun hidden in an air vent beside the sofa. I reached for the knob before hesitating again. What were the odds this intruder was not merely a burglar or peeping Tom? Was it possible someone from my past had tracked me down? I'd been pardoned for my involvement, or non involvement, with the Accords shortly after The Blip. But that wasn't necessarily the past I was worried about coming back to haunt me.

I grasped the doorknob firmly in my free hand and repositioned the knife in my other. Whatever the intruders intentions, it did no good to sit here weighing the options. Either it was someone from the past come to settle an old score, or someone coming to rob me, and I didn't want to lose the few belongings I'd gathered together.

"Fuck it." I mouthed. I flung the door open as I simultaneously lifted the knife to eye level, prepared to swing. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light from the hallway I found myself face to face with the intruder. I gasped audibly as the knife clattered onto the ground, barely registering that I'd dropped it.

Nick Fury gave me a knowing smile.

"Evening, Agent Lenore."

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