#and wow grant ward just does not stop

[poguestvff]

Used To The Cold — S. Cameron

In which Sarah Cameron comes to a realization after her girlfriend moves across the country.

taglist | main masterlist | 2.0k words

warning(s): none, fluff, i heart sarah <33

Have you ever lost something that held either so many memories or brought a sort of happiness that just warmed you immediately even at the sight of it? Most people have something like that. Such as for children when it comes to losing stuffed animals or action figures that were a source of comfort, they missed it like hell. Said children grow up and look for a new source of comfort. Some teenagers found it in weed and alchohol, others in sports. For Sarah Cameron, she grew out of the beautiful pink blanket her father had gotten her as a toddler. As she grew into a teenager, she found a new solace.

Her girlfriend.

Sarah made it very apparent to show her love to her girlfriend who, at one point, was just her best friend who she could hardly even bare to be away from. Sarah had known she'd loved Y/n before they even got together by the way Sarah had never felt claustrophobic in the friendship that she held with the other girl. She said the three words within the first six months of being with her, words she had never spoken to another being other than her family. It was a word she, personally, took seriously. For her to say it to Y/n showed the amount of trust she held within her. Trust to not feel so closed off with Y/n.

At the beginning of the relationship, Sarah was glad that not much had changed between the two of them. That Y/n let her have her space whenever she needed it without the dependent need to be together all day though it quickly became backwards. Sarah grew even more clingy to Y/n, hardly able to deal without her hands being stuck to her girlfriend like glue. Whenever they went out to lunch, Sarah played a one sided game of footsies that only brought a smile upon Y/n’s features, one of Sarah’s favorite traits about her. Sarah loved the idea of always having a person to call her own, Y/n seeming to be the one person who could bring out her newfound touchiness. Though, sometimes she pondered on whether Y/n herself was even handling it or if she just ‘put up’ with it. If she did have an indifference towards Sarah’s actions, she surely never showed her disinterest in it.

Though the last time Sarah had held on to her girlfriend felt soul crushing and gut wrenching. As the two of them stood on the creaky, wooden dock just before the ferry, Sarah felt drained. Between the amount of crying she’d done in just the past few days had been enough to make her want to sleep forever and the comfort of her girlfriends arms around her hadn’t helped that feeling. Tears held a steady stream down both of their faces though Sarah was the one who was unable to contain her sobs. People passed around them, solemn looks given to the two of them as they listened in on the sniffles and soft wails.

Y/n didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was twice as hard for Sarah as it would be for her. Y/n was leaving, miles away that Sarah couldn’t even pin on when the next time she’d being able to hold on to her would be. All she knew was that this embrace that Y/n held on her would be the last one for months and there wasn’t a thing that would be able to make up for it between now and then.

It evoked an indescribable sort of fear within Sarah but she knew it was immutable. If Sarah could, she'd even drop her whole life within Outer Banks to follow her girlfriend across the world. There wasn't much Sarah wouldn't do and there wasn't much Y/n wouldn't do for Sarah either, including the moving date having already been pushed back a month because of Y/n's several arguments with her parents.

"I don't want you to go." sarah whispered as y/n kissed her neck. She could hear the blonde's pained and wavering voice, how affected she already was even as Y/n hadn't even stood on the boat yet.

"I know, lover." the y/h/c girl spoke in a low tone, only sarah able to hear her words of affirmation. Y/n was first to pull back, placing her hands on Sarah's cheeks. The sight of Sarah with puffy eyes and a quivering lip made y/n's heart throb and a guilty feeling blanket over her like a raising tide. "i'll visit. Every chance I get, you know I will."

"It won't be the same." she lamented. Y/n placed her lips against Sarah’s, delicately as if the blonde were made of porcelain. When Y/n's parents had called for her and Ward and Rose had called Sarah away from the dock, Sarah only seemed to want to cling further, fingers pressing further into the thin jacket Y/n worse, but their time had finally run out. Even after weeks of pretending that they had all the time in the world, like nothing could pull the two of them apart, it had happened.

The first few weeks, the whole Cameron house had known Sarah spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep and the entire Y/l/n house knew Y/n was not going to be speaking to them for a little while due to their newest decision. Both groups of parents hadn't known that pulling the duo away from one another would become such a quagmire for each of them.

When Y/n did finally decide to talk to her parents, it was usually to say she was leaving to explore the area in which she refused to get to know the first few days. With a driver license, it gave her just a bit of freedom from her parents who's impromptu decisions had still caused for a tearing in their familial relationship.

Y/n sat in her parked car, a hot beverage in hand to adjust to the cold in which she'd just stood in for five minutes. All of it for a drink that wasn't even that good in her opinion but she dealt with it. With the hand not holding the steaming drink, she opened her phone, smiling immediately at the photo of her and sarah as her background. She unlocked it, scrolling around to find Sarah's contact and setting her phone up against the dashboard. While it began to ring, Y/n situated herself to begin to drive. "Hi, Y/n/n!" Sarah shouted excitedly the second she'd answered.

At her tone of voice did Y/n laugh. The enthusiasm was no surprise but it was funny to Y/n every time. "Hi, baby." She replied, fhe smile remaining on her face as she looked towards the screen. Sarah sat at her desk, her hands under her jaw though a pencil between her fingers. She had focused all of her attention from the papers in front of her to the driver on the other end of the phone. "What are you doing?"

The sound of whizzing paper had made Y/n glance to the phone seeing a math sheet now replacing Sarah's face before she placed it back down, a frown appearing on her features. "Math."

"Didn't you just start like two days ago?" Y/n asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"Yes and this teacher is an absolute bitch. You're just lucky you don't start for another week. You would hate Mr. Henley."

Y/n let out an awfully dramatic gasp. "Um, hello, Mr. Henley was literally my home room teacher last year, I'll have you know. Show some respect." She said, almost missing Sarah's chagrined look as she smiled.

"You're supposed to be on my side here."

"Sorry, i don't believe in biases, Sar." She joked for sarah to let out a small snicker.

"So tell me, how's minnesota?" Sarah asked, trying to spark up a conversation even if the distance was the same thing she wanted to keep her mind off of.

"Oh, it's so great. So many hot people." she remarked.

"You're not funny, no one has ever found you funny." Sarah replied though unable to hold in her laugh along with her girlfriend. "I'm serious. we haven't talked much about it and i don't want to like... avoid your new life now."

Y/n sighed, looking towards the phone to see Sarah looking back down at her work in front of her. "Fine. Well, it doesn't particularly suck. The no surfing part definitely does, though, but what can you do. And the coffee here... no, its just so bad, babe. granted, i only had one, and it's in my cup holder right now but it's gross."

"My coffee making is better, right?" Sarah asked as Y/n gave a hefty nod.

"So much better, even if it is the only thing you're good at making." Y/n laughed and Sarah attempted to refuse a smile, her cheeks quivering from trying to keep it down. "But the weather dropped today, randomly. It was seventy yesterday, fifty today but i think i'm getting used to the cold."

Sarah lifted her head back to the phone, watching Y/n focus on driving, her eyes diverting on places away from the screen. Sarah but at her inner cheek, drumming her fingers against the white wood that rested under her forearms. "Used to it?" Sarah asked. She knew Y/n's move was permanent at least until she was eighteen but something about those words made it seem more realistic. She was getting used to a place that wasn't home.

Y/n hummed. "Yeah, i'm probably being dramatic. I saw a guy walking around in a tank top and shorts while i'm wearing double pair of socks right now." she grinned at her own comment though picking up on Sarah's sudden discomfort when she replied with a small 'wow'. "Lover?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Y/n asked, the car slowing to a stop at a red light.

Sarah quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Just... the work. Keep your eye on the road."

"Sarah." The blond recognized the tone of voice quickly.

"Just... I just fully realized how permanent this is. I won't see you until, what? December? That's a long time, Y/n! And, i get it, it's your home now and i can't do anything about it but—"

Y/n was quick to cut her off. "I never said this is home. Sure I live here but it's just a couple walls and a roof. It's not home, Sarah." Y/n began. "Home is you. And trust me, i've been missing home the second i got on that ferry."

Despite them having to look at one another through a glass screen the feeling—the connection between the two of them was still felt. Sarah could feel the normal warm feeling she would've gotten whenever Y/n would simply hold her hand or brush her hair over her ear. she held that much of an effect on Sarah in person and somehow even thousands of miles away.

Sarah hadn't even realized she had been staring for a total of twenty seconds until a singular tear fell down her blushing cheeks. she quickly sniffled, recomposing herself as she wiped it away. "Are you seriously making me cry right now?" She muttered with the way the atmosphere had become though relishing in the way Y/n laughed in response.

"Yes, thank you for ignoring everything i just said, lover." Y/n put the car back in drive as the light went green. Due to the steets being relatively empty in her new small town, she took the time to look back over at the phone to Sarah. "I love you."

Sarah's smile widened in thag very moment, pursing her lips before pushing them out. "I love you more."

"And don't worry. I won't get to used to it. I'll be back home, to you, before you even know it." Y/n took a small glance to the phone, enjoying Sarah's gaze that showed even with the distance put between the two of them, they'd be fine.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #sarah cameron fluff #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron #obx imagine #john b routledge #pope heyward

[twinklelilstarkey]

Theater

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader x Topper Thornton

Words: 1.7k+

Summary: You, Rafe and Topper meet at the theater and have some fun.

Warnings: (Top and Reader are a year younger than Rafe) Poly relationship. Threesome. Public sex. Fingering. Hand job. Mentions of cum. Orgasm denial. Some degrading and some praising. Wow, I’m going to fucking hell. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT READ THIS!!!!!

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Inspired by this queen’s work @msgorillagripcoochie​

“Rafe, be careful” You hiss at the tall boy in front of you right as he almost trips and falls right in front of everyone by the entrance of the room.

A wave of shushes goes your way as you giggle while trying to find Topper in the middle of the dark cinema room and Rafe is the first one to spot him.

“Dude, why so in the back?” Rafe whispers as his eyes land on the younger boy.

The blonde doesn’t even spare the two of you a look, eyes completely glued to the movie that already had started playing way before you two came in.

“You guys are late” He spits back, annoyance thick on his tone.

“Sorry baby, we had to get popcorn” You apologize once noticing that Rafe isn’t even thinking about doing so.

Rafe takes a seat next to Topper and pulls you by your hand to come sit on his lap. You ungracefully fall on top of his legs as you fight a fit of giggles while wrapping an arm around his neck so can you lean on to him.

The people closest to your seats send glares your way at the sound of your faint giggles again but they all come unnoticed to you as you’re too distracted readjusting yourself on Rafe’s lap.

You pass Topper the popcorn and he takes it without even looking at you.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask him, bringing your hand over to his cheek.

You smooth his skin with your thumb as he doesn’t answer and Rafe leans back on the chair while looking at you two.

“Is it because-” You start but stop when noticing that you’re talking way too loud, so you lean closer to him, “Is it because we were late?”

He sits silent for a few seconds.

“Of course, it was” He admits in a sigh, “I thought you guys fucking stood me up”

“Baby, we would never do that” You assure him, hand now laying over the back of his neck, close to his hair, “Ne-ver”

He nods, still without taking the eyes of the screen and you move a bit on Rafe’s lap so that you can lean in closer.

You lay a soft kiss over Topper’s cheek and he doesn’t even flinch. So you do it again. And again, and again. All until he moves his head and finally looks at you.

“We love you, yeah?” You ask against his lips, “We would never do that”

“Yeah,” He whispers back faintly.

You smile widely and close the space between you two, finally kissing him on his lips. And even with just a small peck, you have your second boy back.

Rafe looks away from you two, now more relaxed, and glances up at the movie. The one, you all completely forgot about.

“How did the test go?” Topper asks you in a whisper as you lean to the side, against Rafe’s chest.

“It went good, I think- but I don’t know, that teacher will always find something bad enough to bring my grade back down” You rant slightly, making both of your boys look at you, “what?”

“Does that mean you’re done with everything?” Rafe whispers into your ear teasingly and loudly enough for Topper to hear and smile.

“Yeah, I think so” You nod.

As the two boys exchange looks, Rafe lays his arm over your lap and his hand rests over your thigh, completely exposed by the skirt that had just moved with you when you leaned towards Top.

You stare at the two of them, not understanding the exchanging of looks but decide to let it slide.

“Can you guys stay over at mine, this time?” Rafe asks you two.

“And try and get caught by Ward Cameron himself?” You question sarcastically, “No, thank you”

“He won’t even be there tonight, I promise” He tries again, making you eye Top in question. “Please?”

You two look for any sight of ‘no’ on each other’s faces and you sigh.

“Fine” You answer.

“Fuck yeah. Thank you” Rafe celebrates, “I’m so fucking done with your creaky ass beds”

Top snorts loudly at his choice of words and you cover his mouth to try and stop him from angering the audience any more.

Rafe plants a kiss over your shoulder as his hands squeezes your thigh securely, and you look over at him while he lays his cheek over your arm. You uncover Topper’s mouth and he looks back at the two of you.

“What’s that look for?” Rafe questions.

“Nothing, just thinking” You answer.

The two boys share a look and a smile appears in their faces.

“You filthy, filthy...” Topper starts while shaking his head, making a sneaky smile cover your features.

“Didn’t know you had a thing of theaters, Y/N” Rafe whispers from beside you, hand trailing under the fabric of your skirt, away from anyone’s sight.

His fingertips trail the inside of your thigh and you quietly gasp at the feeling of his cold rings against the sensitive skin.

His teasing starts to make your breathing heavy as you stare at Topper and steal glances, at the same time, at the other boy’s hand, disappearing under your clothes.

“What if we get caught?” You manage to whisper as Rafe’s hand reaches closer and closer.

“We won’t if you stay quiet” Topper whispers back with a smirk.

As the boy in front of you leans forward to plant a peck over your lips softly, Rafe’s hands reach your underwear. And with a swift movement, he moves it to the side and slides his middle finger right between your lips.

You gasp as Topper pulls away from the kiss and he smiles while looking over at Rafe.

“You’re soaked, baby”

You almost moan out loud at his words. Not from what they mean but from the risk of saying it out loud, whispering it in front of almost 30 people.

Topper lays his hands over your knees and spreads them just so slightly, granting Rafe’s hand way more space.

Rafe’s finger moves up and down ever so slightly from your entrance to gather some of your wetness and he brings up to your clit, massaging it smoothly with ease.

You bite your lip to fight off your moan and look down to see under the dim lighting, Rafe’s hand and half of his forearm disappearing from under your dark skirt. You can see his arm moving slightly to follow his finger’s movements, and you almost moan at the sight of that one prominent vein that peeks from under his skin. Something he has gained by working out so much with Topper.

The sound of kissing beside you makes you look up and you smile at the sight of your two boys leaning in to each other and kissing.

You look around just to make sure everyone is too focused in the movie to notice the three of you and you smile as everyone doesn’t even look like their planning to ever look away from the screen.

Your hands wraps itself around Rafe’s wrist as he, out of nowhere, speeds up and you start breathing slightly louder.

“You liking that, uh?” Rafe whispers at you and you glance at him, to find him and Top smiling at you teasingly.

You smile back and lean in to kiss one of them. Topper’s lips meet yours first and Rafe takes that opportunity to speed up just a tiny bit more.

You breathe out loudly as you pull away from Topper and you can already feel the pleasure building up right at the end of your belly.

You lean in and kiss Rafe as well, laying your hand over the side of his neck as your other rests over Topper’s. And right as your tongue touches Rafe’s, you moan at the feeling of two fingers entering you.

Rafe deepens to kiss to muffle your sounds, saving you three from gaining any looks and getting caught, and you pull away, panting as the feeling builds up more and more, and look down confused.

It’s not Rafe’s fingers, it’s Topper’s.

You wrap your arm back around Rafe’s neck for support and bite your lip with the smirk as the two boys make you feel so good, it’s unexplainable.

“You’re such a spoiled little brat,” Rafe whispers at you right against your ear, “Always getting what you want, right?”

You nod at his words before sending him a teasing look and Topper takes that opportunity to speed up his movements, curling his fingers a few times into his thrusts.

You throw your head back slightly and hold in your breath to try and restrain your sounds.

“Look at us” Topper whispers, making you lift your head at them and do as told, “Good girl”

Your walls cling onto his fingers at his words and he smiles proudly as he feels it. You accidently move your hips, rotating them to follow Rafe’s movements and a groan escapes the boy’s throat.

You had been sitting over him all along.

You lean in a bit and lay your hand over Topper’s lap, right over his crotch, exactly where you can already feel him through the fabric. Weird position, but affective to try and make both of your boys feel good.

As you move your hips and slide your hand in Top’s boxers, you match the rythim of their movements making them both hiss out loud.

“You’re so good to us” You hear one of them whispering, head going foggy as the pleasure intensifies. “So good”

“Fuck, I’m... so-” You whisper at them but stop by feeling Topper curling his fingers against your walls right as you start talking.

Rafe covers your mouth with his spare hand and brings in closer to his chest as his middle and pointer finger continue circling your clip more and more quickly by the second.

“Can I come, please?” you try to plead, but your voice his muffled by his hand.

You honestly lost hope to ever get an answer, right there and then. They probably didn’t even hear you.

“Be good for us and hold in for a just a little longer” Rafe whispers into your hair, making not only almost sigh in relief, but also lean your head back to try and pleade him with your eyes, “You can do it, baby”

Your movements are getting sloppier and sloppier. Your hips aren’t even holding a right rythim anymore, just like your hand. They’re helplessly moving in hopes that maybe, just maybe, they can finally bring you over the edge.

Rafe starts laying kisses all over your shoulder, pulling with his teeth the strap of your shirt away to try exposing even more skin. He’s just as close as you are.

Top’s spare hand wraps around yours, guiding it as you squeeze him just right.

You look around the room as you helplessly move as silent as you can, and the sight of so many people staring at the screen, completely oblivious to what is going on behind them, just made you want to moan out loud.

The risk of just one person curious enough to look over their shoulder and see two guys’ hands under a girl’s skirt, as the girl’s hips move in sloppy circles over her boyfriend’s dick and her hand clings to the other boyfriend’s cock; just makes you want to crash right there and then.

“Please” you try to cry out, tears already building up at the end of your eyes.

Rafe shushes you right in your ear and eyes Topper over your shoulder with a smirk.

The two boys look each other and speed the movements of their fingers one final time.

“You can come, princess” Topper whispers as he leans just enough for you to hear him.

With just those words, two more thrusts of his fingers and unaccountable movements from Rafe’s, you come. Pleasure erupts through your body like chills, making your body shake under their touch uncontrollably in ridiculously small spams.

Rafe holds you close to him in hopes that your movements wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention and the boys come right after you. He bites the crook of your neck as he does it, trying to muffle his own sounds and Topper lets go of himself to try and cover his mouth.

You three lean back as you come down from your highs, and your chests move rapidly as you pant your way back to reality.

Topper pulls his fingers out of you slowly, and so does Rafe, who is careful to move your underwear back to its previous place before moving his hand away.

You lean against his shoulder while looking at the two boys in disbelief.

“I can’t fucking believe we just did this” You whisper at them.

It was 4:26am and I wrote this... so sorry if this is awful.

(I’m posting this even though I’m not confident about it because this blog deserves more smut. even if it’s bad, just saying) *I just need to practice, I think, haha*

#rafe cameron x reader #topper thorton x reader #rafe cameron imagines #topper thornton imagines #rafe cameron smut #topper thorton smut #rafe cameron imagine #topper thorton imagine #drew starkey x reader #Austin north #Austin north x reader

[frenchly-anxious]

If James Bond was French, she would be a 54 years old woman working as a business coach, and there would be no movie because all the villains would be insanely bad at their job

Or: if we French people can’t make good spy/mercenary movies, it’s simply because our real spies/mercenaries absolutely suck.

Story time.

A few months ago, I stumbled upon the craziest news report of my life so far. It started small: an assassination attempt last July, just outside of Paris. Like, wow, that sucks, but okay. Yet as I’m watching the news, I realized they made a full documentary on that. Weird, I thought.

Except no, it made perfect sense to make a big deal out of it because seriously, that story just keeps on giving to the point I'm still waiting to be told it was a joke. Let me share this masterpiece.

The story starts unexpectedly with... a father driving his son to daycare. And as he’s driving, he spots a car haphazardly parked, with 2 men inside. As soon as he meets their eyes, they seem to panic: one feigns to sleep, while the other ducks forward to hide his face. They’re both dressed in black and are wearing gloves in the middle of July. The father drives on, stops a few streets away and call the police.

At this point, I was like “Who are those 2 buffoon? They reacted the way a child does when he knows he stayed up past his bedtime”.

The police arrived and searched them. They found out the car had fake license plates but more than that, they found a bag containing a loaded gun and its makeshift silencer, as well as 2 army knifes. The men were obviously arrested on the spot.

The police, expecting some kind of burglars, was in for quite the ride.

Very quickly, one of them started talking. He told the police he was a member of the DGSE (= kinda the French equivalent of CIA, in less popular), and they were on an official mission. In what I can only assume was an amazing show of self-control, an officer succeeded in not laughing out loud and instead asked him to elaborate. Which he did. He calmly explained they were on a mission to assassinate a woman who was actually working as a spy for Mossad.

I imagine the officers politely nodded as they were taking notes and then after leaving the room they started laughing hysterically while filing papers for a transfer to a psychiatric ward.

Except than when they checked, the 2 men were indeed working for the DGSE.

The what the fuck intensified, but not in the expected direction.

The police obviously turned to the woman they said they were about to assassinate. The victim indeed lived right where the DGSE agents were waiting. She was a successful “business coach”, living a quiet life and was absolutely not expecting to see police show up at her doorstep saying “hey, so, you basically almost got killed by two men waiting in front of your house, who had been following you for a few days and had also put a tracker on your car, and, well, they’re saying you’re actually working for Mossad. Can we come in?”

I can’t imagine how baffling that conversation must have been.

That 54 years old woman, Marie-Hélène Dini, had obviously no link with the Mossad. At all.

In this story of ridiculously bad mercenaries, the only one who acted correctly was her: after answering to the police, who probably told her “well that was unexpected. Better be extra careful from now on. Have a great day, ma’am!”, she turned off her phone, packed a few things and left her home, not telling anyone where she was going, and kept moving from place to place every couple of days to make sure no one could find her.

She was scared and confused, because who could want her dead?

The answer to that question is as baffling as the rest of the story: it was another “business coach”, who didn’t appreciated the fact she wanted to regulate their profession and thought the appropriate solution to that what to eliminate her.

But that’s not all! How did this guy found mercenaries to begin with? Well that’s easy: he had contacts because he was part of masonic lodge, just like our two stupid mercenaries.

Yes, freemasonry has entered the chat.

The story just shifted from mercenaries to secret organization.

One of the suspect, who was seriously talkative for a secret agent from a secret organization, explained they had other contracts like that. Only one resulted in an assassination so far: Laurent Pasquali, an ex-driver of the 24 Hours of Le Mans. He had indeed suddenly disappeared in 2018, his squeleton only found a year later without much clues of what had happened. Well, he apparently scammed the wrong sponsor, who decided to engage someone to bring back their money... and that someone apparently failed spectacularly because “the contract went wrong” and they killed him. Talk about going wrong.

The police linked a few other cases to these guys and a few of their “friends”: arson, violence, assassination attempts,...

All eyes obviously turned to the DGSE. Who went: “We can’t deny a few of those lunatics were working for us, but we don’t have ANYTHING to do with their mercenary/freemason job on the side!”

And if it looks like they’re not lying, it still isn’t very reassuring to see who is working for our foreign intelligence agency (granted, they were apparently just security guards for a DGSE site, but still)

So anyway. As I was saying:

James Bond isn’t French and there is a reason for that.

(because if she was, she would be a 54 years old woman working as a business coach, and there would be no movie because all the villains would be insanely bad at their job)

#james bond #'no time to die' #no there's not - not in France #'die another day' #'possibly of old age because we certainly aren't the one who'll kill you' #a French James Bond movie would be a comedy and nothing else #you can't begin to fathom how mind-blown I was during the whole documentary #like if I hadn't been watching that on a channel I knew was serious I wouldn't have believed it #Marie-Hélène Dini is my hero #france #french news #french culture #learning french #french mercenaries #french spy #dgse #french hero #france is ridiculous #and that's why I love it #french comedy #french joke #franc maçon #freemasonry #because why the hell not #up the baguette #upthebaguette

[aricazorel]

12 from the fluffy prompts for f!shenko please!

Thank you so much for the ask!

“This reminded me of you.” from this list

Rebecca Shepard x Kaidan Alenko; ME3, Citadel DLC; 1548 words

Spending the first few days of mandatory shore leave chasing your own clone and recovering your stolen ship was not how Rebecca Shepard had envisioned the time off. She hadn’t expected Anderson to give her his apartment either, but she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead she decided to spend the time as ordered: off duty while she caught up with friends, took it easy, and spent quality time with Kaidan. Granted her shore leaves had always been hit or miss on whether other people enjoyed them with her but Kaidan was different. She knew him. Really knew him and thought she might be able to find things they both enjoyed doing.

That’s why she stopped into a random store in one of the lower wards market districts. It screamed Kaidan Alenko. The ward itself was home to a mixture of races and was a prime area for tourists to frequent. And that was what she was at the moment. Not the Commander, not the Savior of the Citadel, not the galaxy’s beacon of hope against the impossible. Just a tourist looking for a gift for her nerdy boyfriend and did that shop fit the bill. Thankful she actually listened to his random facts at all hours of the day and night, she was sure to find something he liked.

The whole concept of the store was based on interesting and unique things from Earth’s past. As one of the newer species on the galactic scene, humanity was still a curiosity to some. The oddities of Earth’s pop culture from past centuries permeated the shelves, racks, and display spaces in the specialty shop.

Shepard roamed the aisles looking for a specific pop culture icon from the late 20th-early 21st centuries. Surely they had something related to his nerdy obsession. After all he had been through and all he did for her, he deserved something familiar, something comforting, something distinctly Kaidan.

Finally at the very back of the store, she found it. All sorts of items: tee shirts, hats, figures, plushies, OSDs with movies and TV series, models, and much more. But one thing in particular caught her attention. A box containing what looked to be a collection of several items. Ones she knew Kaidan would love.

Her target acquired, the Commander- turned- tourist quickly paid for it and made her way back to the apartment. If she were lucky, Kaidan would still be out with Cortez, Vega, and Joker at the arcade. She could wrap it and surprise him.

Hopefully…

~~~~~

“Hey, Becca! I’m back,” Kaidan’s voice called from the living room.

“I’m in here,” she shouted from the bar area. The large box sat on the coffee table in front of her as The Battlespace played on the large vid screen but muted.

The Major rounded the wall partition as he commented, “Joker still wants to have that party. Tried all evening to get Steve, Vega, and me to convince you to agree to it.”

“I told him I’d think about it,” Rebecca groaned from the couch.

“Yeah, well you know Joker. He gets an idea and won’t let go until he gets his way,” Alenko replied as he came to stand by the couch, the artificial fire crackling behind him.

“Yeah. I know but all I want to do right now is spend time with you,” she said tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “Alone.”

“I’m all yours tonight, Becca,” he assured her as his whiskey-colored eyes flickered to the coffee table. “I promise.”

Shepard grinned. “Something catch your eye, Major?”

“You always have my eye, Shep,” he said with a lop-sided grin.

“You’ve gotten better with your flirting,” she noted as he approached the table.

“Who said I was flirting? I thought I was simply stating a fact,” Alenko commented, winking at her.

“Kaidan,” the Commander murmured as she felt herself blush lightly.

“It’s true,” the L2 biotic said as he pointed to the box. “But what it that?”

“It’s a box.”

“Becca.”

“It’s a wrapped box.”

“Shepard.”

“It’s a wrapped box with something allegedly inside it.”

“Rebecca Jane Shepard!”

The Commander laughed as she held up her hands as if in surrender. “Okay! Okay! No reason to sound like my dad.”

Kaidan made a face. “Don’t ever say that again. That’s just…weird.”

Rebecca laughed again as she motioned towards the box. “It’s for you.”

“Me?” the Major asked in surprise. “From who?”

She frowned as she replied indignantly, “Me, Alenko. Unless you have other women gifting you things behind my back.”

“Hell, no,” the second human Specter exclaimed as he reached for the box.

“No guys either?” she teased as he sat down on the couch beside her.

With the box in his lap, he gave her an incredulous look. “Sweetheart, while I do like both men and women, I only love you.”

Shepard was left speechless by his honesty as he quickly kissed her cheek. He gave her a grin and began to unwrap the box. Her once emotionally reserved Lt. was not so any longer, and it suited him. It suited him very well.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You always say that, and you know I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“Yeah, well I still think you don’t have to…”

The Commander grinned as he went silent. His fingers traced over the edges of the box as his eyes flickered from one image to another on the side facing him. She leaned forward to look at him better. His expression was one of surprise and something she couldn’t place.

“I found it at an Earth novelty shop in one of the wards,” she said softly.

Kaidan nodded as she continued to look over the box.

“This,” Rebecca said motioning to the focus of his attention, “reminded me of you.”

“I had some like these when I was a kid,” Kaidan murmured as he opened the box. “My mom found them somewhere. Used to put them together to distract me from my biotics when I got frustrated with them.”

Shepard smiled as he pulled out several smaller boxes, each of a different model kit. She watched as his smile widened as he told her the name of each ship the model was supposed to build. A look of fondness for a childhood memory on his handsome features the entire time.

“This one’s an X-wing—Red 5. Luke’s ship…This is the Millennium Falcon—a YT-1300…Ummm, this is a TIE Fighter and a…TIE Advanced—Vader’s I think…A Star Destroyer—Venator class used during the Clone Wars and a…Oh wow! It’s the Ebon Hawk!”

Shepard recognized all the ships except the last one from binge watching the Star Wars movies and series with him in the hospital. “Come again?”

He turned to her excitedly. “It’s the ship from a couple of Star Wars video games. I had an emulator for them growing up. I might still have it…”

“So it’s a good thing?”

He nodded with a broad grin. “It was a fun couple of games. I can show them to you some time but…”

“But what?”

“Well, my mom used to say the pilot of the ship sounded a little like me,” he said rubbing the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “It might be weird.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s just one more thing that can remind me of you. You are weird in a special kind of way.”

Kaidan gazed at her happily. “This mean a lot to me, Becca. Just like you do. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” she said looping an arm though his.

He went back to inspecting the model kits as she laid her head against his shoulder.

“You know,” she began, “when you get those put together I think there might be enough room to display them in the case in the loft.”

He turned to her. “You’d put my model kits from Star Wars with your models of real ships?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Umm, because they’re not—”

“Not what, Kaidan?” she asked. “They are important to you and you are important to me.”

He looked at her with cynically. “While that does sound sweet and sincere, is that really the only reason?”

“Well, of course it is,” she replied. Shepard paused and winced. “Welllll, that and I think most of them look badass…except for the TIE. It looks like a messed-up eyeball.”

Alenko laughed. “Oddly enough that was a nickname the Rebels and New Republic pilots gave them. The TIE/LN starfighter and the TIE/D Defender specifically. I—”

“Alright, my handsome nerd, I get you are excited and I’m glad you like them, but I thought we were spending the night together. Alone. Do I need to be jealous of the model kits?”

“No, Becca. I’m all yours,” he said setting them aside as he leaned over. Kissing her, he suggested, “We could watch the movies though.”

“Hmmmm,” she said. “We could as long as it isn’t too distracting.”

“If you want my full attention all you ever have to do it ask.”

“I know. And I love you. You and all of your nerdiness too.”

“Oh good. I was worried…”

“Kaidan.”

“I love you too.”

She smiled. Rebecca would always love him. Everything about him. Everything.  

#fluff prompts #Mass Effect #f!shenko #Kaidan Alenko #femshep

[davidmann95]

Got a handful of DC-solicit asks, so I’ll just write up my thoughts on the whole batch again.

Mister Miracle: The Source of Freedom #1: The BALLS to not only do the next Mister Miracle thing after King and Gerads, but to do it with Shilo Norman and therefore invite Seven Soldiers comparisons as well. I wouldn’t be that interested, but the preview art that came with the announcement looked fun so this is a maybe for me.

Wonder Girl #1: I got a Yara Flor ask so I’ll go more into detail with that, but this sounds...not good.

Future State: Gotham #1: Hahaha, thanks, call me in six months if the next team does something there’s a reason to give a shit about. Except...wait, Dennis Culver cowrote that E Is For Extinction Secret Wars mini, dammit this might be good. Either way though, god willing we get a Future State: Metropolis book by Dan Watters too.

Legends of the Dark Knight #1: Hopefully this going with Sensational Wonder Woman means there’s a similar Superman anthology in the cards too, but I won’t hold my breath. Darick Robertson doing Batman is enticing, but I’m not familiar with his work as a writer and the premise doesn’t sound that gripping so I’ll wait and see. That Francavilla variant though? DC, blow that up to poster size and you’d make a mint.

Milestone Returns: Infinite Edition #0: Hmm. I got love for Static, but I might wait for further announcements and/or buzz before taking the plunge on this one.

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1: This is a SERIOUSLY stacked lineup, definite buy.

Stargirl Spring Break Special #1: Impeccable timing, DC. It feels like it must be some kind of statement that there are no Morrison members of the Seven Soldiers in the mix (even swapping out Ystin for the original version of Shining Knight no one cares bout) - we focus on the Moore fixation, but there’s enough tidbits that I really do feel like Johns probably flat-out hates Morrison. And what’s this ‘secret eighth soldier’ nonsense? There’ve always been eight soldiers, people have been joking about it forever!

Justice League: Last Ride #1: Discussed that announcement here.

Batman: Earth One Vol. 3: *blinks*

*blinks again*

*squints at the cover art*

...Geoff Johns are you seriously trying to step to Morrison and use the Miagani tribe? YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN PEOPLE

I Am Not Starfire: Interesting concept that seems like it pushes into indie-flavored territory as much as DC’s superhero output just about ever has, if word-of-mouth is good there’s a decent chance I’ll get this.

Action Comics #1031: Wonder if this is serious about the potential of Kryptonian refugees, given PKJ suggested the idea in Worlds of War and that could play a significant part in the New Krypton stuff from Bendis’s Legion (with Johnson being clear he’s following up on a lot of Bendis’s ideas with his own Superman run).

Superman #31: This sounds big-time like Johnson hammering Superman into a swords-and-sorcery shape for an arc since that’s his bag, but Superman’s malleable enough for that to work so I’m not complaining.

American Vampire 1976 #8: Still not getting, so.

Batman #108: Tynion’s well and truly figured out how to game the direct market’s dopiest instincts, hasn’t he? Well, as long as that’s in service of him getting to continue doing weird Batman stuff with Jorge Jimenez like introducing whatever the ‘Unsanity Collective’ is, that’s fine with me. And more Ghostmaker!

Batman: Black & White #6: Not as packed for the finale as some previous issues, but still looking good. And there’s really never gonna be a ‘last’ Scott Snyder Batman story, is there? Sure it’ll be good but that’s kind of a shame, his Detective #1027 feature really felt like a nice full circle.

Batman: The Detective #2: Guess I wasn’t the only one wondering if it was a stealth DKR prequel and they wanted to cut that notion out at the knees.

Batman/Catwoman #6: Still very down for it, but BOY that Batwoman costume Mann debuted on Twitter.

The Batman & Scooby Doo Mysteries #2: I recently finally started reading Sholly Fisch and companies’ Scooby-Doo Team-Up! recently after getting the whole run for free on ComiXology earlier this year and have fallen in love with it, so I’m totally grabbing this digitally.

Batman/Superman #18: “The Dark Knight and the Man of Steel are on a mission to stop the godlike Auteur.io from destroying the pocket worlds he’s created...but where on Earth did Auteur.io even come from? The answer starts not on Earth at all, but with an ancient cult of World Forger worshippers on a planet far away—and if our heroes are to have a prayer of stopping this mythic behemoth, they’ll need to get to the bottom of his power source, and quick! It’s a race against time as the parallel lives of entire worlds hang in the balance!”

Anonymous said: Haha is Yang really doing Superman & Batman vs. Zack Snyder and the Snyder Cult (look up “auter” if you don’t know what I mean)? That’s fucking hilarious, especially since he apparently comes from the World Forge which is where all the shitty Earths full of bad ideas are made. Pretty pointed criticism there if I’m reading it right.

I’ve seen two or three people other than this anon independently conclude this arc is about the Supermen and Batmen of the Multiverse teaming up to stop Zack Snyder from destroying them all and at this point I’m ready to ask my LCS owner if I’m allowed to pay more than cover price for this run.

Batman: Urban Legends #3: Much more into this after the Grifter and Outsiders stories in Future State.

Catwoman #31: No reason not to assume this’ll continue to be great.

Challenge of the Super Sons #2: Good for the folks who want this, and that Nick Bradshaw variant is fun.

Crime Syndicate #3: I wanna be convinced to get this book, but the interviews are not persuading me.

Detective Comics #1036: How long is Mora sticking around?!

The Dreaming: Waking Hours #10: Another one I’ve got nothing to say about because I’ve never been getting it.

The Flash #770: Actually really excited to hear about how bad this run will suck now that I know it’s by the mind behind that “Geoff Johns’ OC - do not steal - beats up the Grant Morrison DC future” catastrophe from Future State.

Green Lantern #2: Really couldn’t wait a month for Far Sector to wrap up, huh?

Harley Quinn #3: Still not interested, but that *is* a nice cover.

The Joker #3: There’s a very real possibility I’ll have dropped the book by this point if it turns out to be the illustrated editorial mandate I get the feeling it could be, but fingers crossed.

Justice League #61: Not complaining, but wow, this really is Naomi 2 since Campbell’s busy in order to provide the necessary material for the CW show.

Looney Toons #260/Mad #20: Were these grouped with the rest of the solicits before?

Man-Bat #4: Very curious how this’ll be received, given nobody much cares about Man-Bat but Wielgosz seems to be quickly becoming a favorite.

The Next Batman: Second Son #2: Hadn’t realized this was only 4 issues - guess for at least one of them it’ll be the Luke Fox book everyone expected in the first place.

Nightwing #80: Dick Grayson vs. Heartless, not how I expected the DC/Kingdom Hearts crossover to happen but I’ll take it. That variant though? ALL TIMER:

The Other History of the DC Universe #4: I was trying to figure out who the focus of #4 would be since we know #5 is about Thunder and Lightning, forgot Montoya was confirmed.

Robin #2: Wanna care, so don’t care.

Rorschach #8: I will get it and probably like it.

RWBY/Justice League #2: My thoughts here will be their own post because there’s something particularly notable, but:

Anonymous said: Have you seen the BATtleaxe from the new art for RWBY/Justice League?

Yes, anon. Yes I have.

Sensational Wonder Woman #3: Eh, premise doesn’t grab me but maybe.

Strange Adventures #10: God I love the book about how Adam Strange sucks.

Suicide Squad #3/Teen Titans Academy #3: Hahahahaha

Superman: Red and Blue #3: Fiffe and Stokoe doing Superman stories!!! And...Nick Spencer. With Christian Ward art?! Sigh, fine, hopefully it’ll be Nick Spencer doing a nice little comedy, and not having Grant Morrison Superman throwing his t-shirt away because he grew up and realized changing things is too hard. A horrible shame Pope is doing the main cover though, the allegations against him I guess never really got any attention. At least there’s this JPL variant:

The Swamp Thing #3: Swampy will never be my guy but very happy for those who dig him, because I imagine this’ll be terrific.

Truth & Justice #4: Normally I wouldn’t care at all, but what I’m hearing on Twitter about this is a crying shame - that Jeff Trammell is really talented and Red Hood is a favorite of his and this is likely to be one of Jason Todd’s few Actually Good comics, but that artist Rob Guillory is a bullying transphobic piece of shit. Sucks all around.

Wonder Woman #772: I was so excited for this run, and then Immortal Wonder Woman had to go and suck.

#DC Comics #Opinion

[palettes-and-prompts]

40 Prompts!

Prompts for the Sunshiney Character/Storm Cloud Relationship

1) A and B go to a theme park and B notices how much A keeps staring at the games where you can win stuffed animals and while A's back is turned B wins them a huge stuffed animal. 2) A realizes they've never heard B laugh before and so they spend the whole day telling them lame jokes to get them to laugh but they never do. It isn't until something bad happens to C in front of them that B lets out the hardest laugh A's ever heard. And while they're terrified of B's humor they're in love with their laugh. 3) A tries to find out more about B's interests but since B is very secretive it's hard for them to find anything out about them. But when A hears B watching wrestling they get B tickets to a match and suddenly B's out of their seat cheering for a wrestler to hit the other with a chair. A's never seen B happier. 4) While grocery shopping A is putting junk food into the basket and B is taking it out and putting in healthier options until they get to the dairy section and B puts four gallons of chocolate milk in the cart, absolutely shocking A. When B tries to explain themselves A tells them they're going back and getting the junk food they want. B lets them and doesn't take out a thing they put in after that. 5) A wears shorts and one of B's t-shirts and A keeps thinking B's sick because their face is flushed all day when they look at A. 6) A gets B some flowers because they're trying to show more affection but it backfires when B begins sneezing and getting watery eyes. (Bonus if A goes back to the store and gets fake flowers and allergy relief medication.) 7) A and B go into a haunted house and A doesn't have time to be scared because B's lightning fast reflexes keep knocking the scare actors flat on their ass and A keeps apologizing while B's trying hard not to keep doing it every time someone pops out. 8) A and B get their face painted and while A who is sunshiney gets something scary B, the storm cloud, gets a cute animal and then they go out for food. 9) A and B go to the zoo and while in the part where you're allowed to pet the animals A is trying hard to get animals to like them B is the one all the animals keep swarming and rubbing against. 10) A and B go to the beach and even though B doesn't like the beach. While A has fun in the water B has fun when the seagulls begin attacking people who brought food. (Bonus if it ends with B saying they now love the beach.)

Fluffy Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) Everyone warns A about B being a vampire and one day when they're out with friends B casually mentions that they smell good and everyone is wide eyed until B's like "I was talking about their perfume/cologne." Which makes them all give a sigh of relief and the group spends the whole day trying to make it up to B because A really likes them.

2) It's hot outside and so A hugs B to stay cool. And for once in their life B's kind of glad they're a vampire. 3) A who is like ice feels bad they can't cuddle with B so they buy a ridiculously warm onesie and gloves to hold them. (Bonus if the onesie is extremely tacky because they got it last minute.) 4) A's jackets are in the wash so they wear one of B's without telling the. (Bonus if B spends all day looking for it since it's their favorite one.) 5) A feels bad B can't enjoy food so they spend hours researching until they find a few recipes B can eat since they're mixed with a lot of blood. (Bonus if they messed up the recipe but B thinks it's the most delicious thing ever.) 6) A can't see their reflection so B spends the whole day figuring out if there's a way for a vampire to see their own reflection. 7) In a world where humans can become blood donors as a job and pick the vampire they work for A gets lucky enough to meet a wealthy B. B is excited because A's cute and has a rare blood type. 8) A celebrates a birthday or holiday where gifts are involved and everyone thinks B's favorite color is red because they're a vampire. But they tell everyone they actually hate red and so everyone tries to figure out what their favorite color is. 9) A reads trashy vampire novels to B, a vampire, who does nothing but lay their head on A's lap and go  "Oh my god, we don't even do that! That's such bullshit, that's not even what happened during the signing of the Treaty of Versailles. I should know, I was there!" 10) A hasn't been around humans in a long time and is very confused when looking at certain technology or clothing B wears.

Hurt/Comfort Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) A has always hated vampires and when they become one B shows them how to survive in their world. 2) A gets injured and B can't help them because of their blood lust. B is incredibly jealous of C for being able to take care of them when they can't 3) A almost drinks B's blood when A accidentally cuts themself. Later A buys some rosary beads for someone at work to ward off a vampire they work with who's getting handsy or whatever. But when B finds them they're worried A doesn't trust them anymore. 4) A gets injured running away from vampires and B is a vampire who finds them and patches them up. 5) A can tell what turns B on because they're constantly listening to their heart rate. Imagine A being incredibly jealous when B sees C because their heart rate spikes. (Bonus if B just really hates C so it's nothing more than them preparing themselves to be annoyed for the day.) 6) A rescues vampire B from a mad scientist who was conducting experiments on B to see if vampires could be changed back and how much pain they can endure. 7) A is a human who's lost everything and B is a vampire who grants them eternal life and revenge against those who wronged them. 8) A hates vampires and works for a group of vampire hunters but when they stumble upon B and see how scared they are it reminds them of their past and they help them escape, this leads B to become attached to A and curious about them. A hates it until they think it's actually kind of cute. 9) In a world where humans are kidnapped and kept alive for their blood A is leading a rebellion until they're captured. B, a vampire in the cell next to them, befriends them and tells them the guard schedules and personalities and tells them they'll help them escape if they get them out too. (Bonus if A is going to betray B until their time together makes A feel things.) 10) A is the most heartless human and B is the most compassionate/alive vampire. The two meet and change each others lives, but is that for the better or worse?

Crack Prompts for the Human/Vampire Relationship

1) A makes garlic bread and B spends hours trying to figure out what they did wrong. Turns out A forgot that B couldn't have garlic bread and didn't remember when they bought, they just thought "Wow, haven't had garlic bread in a while." 2) A cuts their finger and before B can react A sucks the blood from their finger. And it wouldn't be a big deal except for the fact that B moaned when A did that so now things are weird. 3) A and B go grocery shopping and afterwards they check the police records for any criminals in the area for B to drink from. 4) A is a nurse who works at a hospital in charge of blood and B is a blood thief A is constantly spraying with holy water to keep out of the room where they store all the blood. When new nurse C arrives they panic until A comes and spritzes them. When C is like "???" A is like "They do that all the time. They don't bite humans, they drink animal blood. But sometimes they're tempted to drink human blood so you gotta spritz them when you see them." 5) A wonders why B never feeds in front of them and B just tells them they wouldn't want to watch anything like that. But when A finally convinces B to actually have dinner with them they feed in front of A. (Bonus if A is horrified and lowkey loses their appetite but tries to play it off) 6) A can't see their reflection so B is constantly drawing dicks on their face when they're asleep. 7) A thinks it's hot when B speaks a different language, but when B catches on and uses it during an argument A is constantly telling them to stop flexing their knowledge. B thinks it's hilarious though but stops for a while so when A's in the mood B can talk dirty in another language. (Bonus if by the time B does that A can speak the language too.) 8) A has been staring at someone B hates all day and when B thinks A might have a crush they get sad until A admits they just have a gross blood type and can't stand the smell. 9) "You look really peaceful when you sleep, very beautiful." "Please don't watch me sleep, it's so weird, dude." "We have sex all the time, do not call me dude." 10) A getting mad at vampire B before they go out and saying some shit like, "You have something on your face by the way." And not telling B where it is because they know B can't see their own reflection to wipe whatever it is off. (Bonus if A is smug the whole time and B is like "Come on, lets not fight tonight and just...just tell me where it is! Is it my nose? My teeth? What is it?!?")

Sorry this took so long, @zoliis I wanted to give you at least 10 prompts for each one, hope these are kind of what you’re looking for maybe? If not just let me know and I’ll do some more! :)

#40 prompts #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #writing prompts #fic prompts #prompts #writer #writing #ask #hurt/comfort prompts #crack prompts #fluffy prompts #sunshiney/storm cloud relationship #vampire/human prompts #vampire prompts #supernatural prompts

[myarmsaretoolong]

I’m in the middle of Agents of Shield season 3 and wow grant ward just does not stop huh

#agents of shield #aos #agents of shield spoilers #aos spoilers #grant ward #dude really came back from the dead AND an alien planet #pls no spoilers i know im so far behind

[asktheghosthost]

I've been curious about this for a while, but what would be the reaction of Beau and Dorian finding out Eulalie has killed Dearmons and Reginald to avenge them. Like they straight up found out everything somehow. If i butchered spelling, please forgive me.

OoC: No worries! This took a while. And it’s long, so it’s under a read more. Also, warning for very brief mentions of abuse and violence. 

"Father, you're... you're back," Dorian stammered. Forcing a smile, he tapped his fingertips together. "We haven't seen you since... well, since you died. What, uh, what brings you here?" He finally had to clasp his hands together to keep from his nervous fidgets.

Reginald surveyed the foyer with a disapproving scowl. "Dust and cobwebs everywhere," he muttered. "I see the help hasn't been keeping up with their work."

Beau, standing with his arms crossed, rolled his eyes. "No one cares, Reginald." He strode forward. "There is no 'the help,' there is no one you lord over anymore..." His voice grew louder, not coming just from him, but from all around the room. "And there is no one who will tolerate you berating them any longer." They were face to face now. "If you want to haunt here, you will be civil." His lips stretched into a grin. "Just like everyone else."

Reginald's face turned red. His mouth failed to form words for a moment, only sputtering in total indignation. Finally, he spat out, "How dare you! How dare you speak to me in such a manner in my own home." Over a century closed off in some alternate plane hadn't affected his movements too much, for he was still quick enough to get in one good backhanded slap across Beau's cheek.

"Father! Father, no!"

Every light dimmed. Any curtains pulled back went slack to blot out incoming moonlight. The little green fire in the hearth all but died.

There was a rumble all around them. It came from inside the walls and pipes and beams. It was an angry, guttural warning. The Mansion already didn't like Reginald Gracey. Unlike his forefathers, he took very little care of her and her inhabitants. She'd been content to have him gone. Harming the Ghost Host put him on even thinner ice with her.

Beau stared him down, floating from a few feet above the ground. His eyes were glowing with a supernatural force that was not entirely his own. He drew his arm back, and as he did so, his hatchet appeared in his grip.

"Try that again."

"Uncle!" Dorian pleaded. "Please don't! Please!" He was shaking, once more feeling like a terrified child witnessing something he couldn't stop. His chest hurt. His breath came in short gasps. Hair and skin was falling off in clumps, revealing a shivering skeleton underneath.

From upstairs, came the sound of a door opening and creaking closed. Then slow, deliberate steps, made heavier with heels. The men went silent. So quiet were they, that they could hear the soft shush of fabric as a hand lifted to take hold of the banister as its owner descended.

"You boys could never get along," Eulalie chastised. She seemed nonplussed at the sudden appearance of her husband, or at least she hid it well. "Reginald, I see you've found your way back to the estate. I trust the cremation was a fitting preview of what was to come."

He turned his furious gaze onto his former wife. "Oh, you would have liked to see me tortured, wouldn't you? You would have happily done it yourself, take everything one step further than you already did."

Dorian's timid voice broke through the glare between his parents. "What-- What does he mean by that?"

Beau moved to put comforting hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry about it, lad. Why don't you step away for a bit and calm yourself?"

Reginald turned to glance at his son. For a split second, he blanched, but was quickly back to his bluster. "Blazes boy, is this what your little fits look like now?"

"Yes," Eulalie poked Reginald's chest. "And it's your fault. You stressed him out to the point where he was afraid to confide in us about anything. He had to hide entire parts of his life because of your temper."

"My temper!? My temper never led me to murder anyone!"

Another nervous twitter from Dorian: "Father, what...?"

Beau was practically pushing his nephew out of the room now. "Let's get you some mint tea..."

Reginald scoffed. "Oh, so you never told him? It figures you'd try to paint yourself as a saint, you cold witch." Pointing at Eulalie, he shouted, "She murdered me! Planned the whole thing out with her knitting needles and marbles. She's the reason you no longer had a father!"

Eulalie took in a breath, eyes wide and glistening as she watched her son.

Rubbing his bony arms, the skeleton looked away from the group. Finally, he said, "I didn't really have much of one, anyway."

Once more red- faced, Reginald balled his hands into fists and bellowed, "What do you mean, never had much of one? Without me, you wouldn't have this house. You wouldn't have had your horses or your toys. You wouldn't have had that expensive college education. Or, need I remind you, the job at the law firm?"

"That I never wanted..."

"I could have thrown you out, especially after that mess you got yourself into at the university!"

Dorian was standing up straighter now. Righteous anger had put some needed calcium into his vertebrae. "That mess was me being assaulted! That was not my fault! And how dare you insinuate it was!" The clothes were becoming like new. Skin was regrowing on his now glowing form. "I needed you to care about me, and all you ever did was judge.” He wiped tears from his eyes before continuing.

"I don't care what mother did. I don't. And I know that's awful to say, but... we were happier with you gone. I think I knew deep down what had happened, but I never questioned it. I was fine with the illusion, even if I could see through it.”

Reginald’s mustache twitched over his curled lip. “I’ve had it with you, you ungrateful brat! Out of my house now! Out! OUT!” he screamed, pointing at the door.

“No, father.” Dorian took a shaky breath. A cold, fierce wind tore through the room, looping around them before forcing the door open. “I am Dorian Yale Gracey, lord and master of this manor, and I command you Reginald Gracey, to leave this property.”

The wind scooped Reginald up, impervious to his thrashing. 

“Take your bullying, and your condescension, and your hate with you! Maybe if you can learn how to be a decent person, we’ll let you back in after another hundred and twenty years. Until then...” He waved. “Arrivederci!”

The wind whisked Reginald away, and his screams were soon muted by the slammed door. 

“Wow.” Dorian looked around. “The house really does like me.”

Beau shoved his hands into his pockets, saying nothing. 

“I think this deserves a good round of drinks,” Dorian said, spinning on his heel towards the direction of the liquor cabinet.

Eulalie, however, shook her head. Her lips were pressed into a stern line of worry, an occurrence so rare Beau found himself staring at her in an attempt to decipher her thoughts. She steepled her index fingers together against her chin, tapping it a couple of times before shaking her head again and setting off down the main hall. 

Beau quickly caught up to her. “Where are you going? Are you all right?”

She stopped, her expression something that wasn’t quite a frown or a smile, but not insincere in its vagueness. “I’m going to talk to Leota.”

“A splendid idea. We’ll find out how he got in--”

She put a hand on his chest to stop him. “No... Eventually yes, but... I just need to talk to her. As a friend, not a mystic.” She patted him. “I’m sorry, baby brother, but you are once again locked out of the girls’ sleepover.”

That was a Eulalie he was more familiar with. Nonetheless, he watched, perplexed, as she disappeared down the dark corridor.

                                                      ***

It was while working at his desk in the Ghost Relations Department, shortly after midnight, that he saw her again. 

She knocked once, didn’t wait for an answer, and slipped in.

“Hey, Sissy,” he said, not looking up from the current Death Certificate in front of him. Only after he’d placed it in the OUT box did he lift his head. “How did it go with Madame Leota?”

Finding herself unable to speak yet, her focus was downwards, at a desk placard that read HEAD DUMMKOPF in serious, golden letters. She’d gotten it for him as a gift. 

“Sissy?” When she didn’t answer him, he reached over to clasp her hand. 

Sissy... What a silly nickname, she thought. He’d called her that ever since he first learned to speak. Nowadays, though, he never did so in mixed company, only when they were alone, so as not to embarrass her. What a sweet little brother he always was.

She finally pulled her gaze upwards. “It went well.” There was a pause as she waited for more questions. When there weren’t any, she plunged forward with her own. “Beau, you’ve always known about Reginald, haven’t you? That I killed him.”

He sat back with a shrug. “I was there when it happened.” Crossing one leg, he folded his arms behind his head, and tilted his sights ceiling-ward in reminiscence. “Granted, my memory was post-mortem mush at the time, but I knew I didn’t care for him.” Shifting once more, he leaned forward, arms on his desk, and a glint in his eye as if he were giddy to share a conspiracy. “Did you know I did little things to torment him when I first started haunting? Pushing off his paperweights... Cigars in water glasses...” He grinned. “Oddly enough, I never forgot you.”

“Why is that?”

Another shrug. “I suppose you had that much of an impact on me.”

So much of an impact, that he forgave her for her part in his mortal misery. So much of an impact that he never told her son what she had done. Although, whether that was for her or Dorian’s sake, she wasn’t sure. 

Then... maybe...

“Beau...” she started slowly. “Did you know Reginald wasn’t the only one?”

“Only one what?” He wrinkled his brow. “Wasn’t the only one to come back?”

She shook her head. “No. He wasn’t the only one I killed.”

When his reply was only more confusion, she clarified, “I murdered Dearnons.”

The name sent him into such a terrified shock that he unconsciously kicked his legs, sending his chair back half a foot. “You... You killed Dr. Dearnons?” Trembling, he gripped the arm rests to keep him steady.

“Yes.” Her voice once more had its confident, sharp edge. “He came inquiring about you after your suicide, as if he had any right to do so. All it took was some poison in his tea, and then I drug him out into the backyard and buried him... alive, I should add. He was definitely still breathing.”

The world was swaying, and now Beau had to take hold of the desk’s edge, fearing he would plummet and never find his way back up. “I never would have asked you to...”

“I know, which is why I did it on your behalf.” Her expression softened. “Beauregard, you were never the same after you came back. That man was a monster.”

“But he was my monster! My monster to deal with!”

Once more, she shook her head. “What he did to you, he did to countless other children, and would have continued to do so. The way I see it, I did the world a favor. Some people simply need to be removed from the earthly equation.”

“Get out.” He could hardly hear himself over the pounding in his ears. “Get out!”

The door slammed open. Eulalie calmly stood from her seat, but a tremble in her lip betrayed her true feelings. Green skirts in her fingertips, she turned and left.

After the door closed, he stared at it, mouth agape. He didn’t know how to handle the typhoon of emotions swirling inside him right now. 

“Sissy...”

#drabble #short story #fic #fan fic #rebornghostgirl #ask #Beau #Reginald #Dorian #Eulalie

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #333

“imaginary chain  /  the one you never break  /  seething all alone”

Do you have any fears you would rarely admit to anyone? Nah, I'm pretty open about what I'm afraid of. What website do you spend most of your time on? YouTube. What class in high school did you struggle with the most? I honestly don't remember with certainty, but it was probably math or economics. At least, I think econ was my senior year. What could you talk about for hours? Mark, meerkats, a few game franchises... maybe a couple more topics. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you have a Steam account? Yeah, but I don't have many games on there and rarely touch the ones I do. Do you like gaming? I do, but not as much as I did for most of my life. I mostly just play WoW now, and even that I'm not that into anymore. Part of it though comes from not buying any new games that I'm interested in because 1.) no money and 2.) no proper console, and you can only replay games so many times before you're just... yeah, done. Do you like reading books? Some days. Do you like religion? All things considered? No. Do you like Grand Theft Auto V? Y'know, growing up, I actually liked watching my younger neighbor play one of those games, but I don't remember which. Though he never actually "played" it... just ran around wreaking havoc, lol. I do however think GTAV was the one that Jason and Jacob started playing together when we moved into the apartment, and I thought the story was okay; I don't think they ever got far into it, though. Definitely wasn't Jason's sort of game, and I don't think it was too much up Jacob's alley, either. Can you twerk? I haven't tried and you will never see me try either, lmao. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes, but I almost never use it. If the last person you kissed tried to kiss you again, would you start kissing them back? Yes. If your best friend of the opposite sex tried to kiss you, would you start kissing them back? No. Have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated? Yes, because of how badly she hurt him. I don't have any negative feelings towards her now, though. We're actually friends, haha. The irony. Are you an easy lay? What weird wording. But whatever, quite the polar opposite actually. When’s the last time you said you were sorry? A few days ago. Are there any songs you listen to everyday? No. Would you like living on the coast? As someone who lives in a state hit by hurricanes usually every year and has seen the incredible damage they usually bring to the coast, no. I don't like the smell or gritty feel of salty air, either. When’s the last time you were really late to something? No idea. That's usually not a problem with me. Why did you stop liking the last person you liked? The last person I actually stopped like-liking would be Girt, and that would be because I just came to the realization I saw him too much as my brother instead of boyfriend. It just always felt awkward. Do you still talk to that person? Yeah, we're good. No hard feelings or anything between us. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? No. Do you trust easily? Fuck no. I'll be cautious, at least to some degree, about new people for a while. What is the last song to make you cry? Since I've actually behaved and not listened to any trigger songs, it's been a long while, but it was probably "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Last person you hung up on? I'm sure some automated message. I barely ever answer the phone to numbers I don't recognize, though. Where was your last car ride to and from? To Wal-Mart w/ Mom to pick up our order and then back home. Next big outing? *shrug* Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not really, no. Considering I'm by far my most authentic self online, I actually tend to appreciate virtual friends more, if I'm being honest. I try to keep up with those people. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not really, no. I think I saw Warcraft the day it came into theaters, though. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yep. Tragic romance tends to do it the most, I think. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have one to track my menstrual cycle as well as another that tracks my daily caloric intake, but I'm bad at using it because it's tedious if I actually have to measure something. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Ummm if you mean like, in general, probably my mom's. But this most certainly depends on the subject I'm taking feedback on. What is something society "expects" you to do that you don't want to do and/or don't plan on doing? Shaving my legs came to mind first. Granted, I will if there is almost any chance of someone seeing them, but otherwise, I just don't care. We respect women with body hair on this account and see them as no less feminine. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you're drawn to? I think it's cool, yeah. I should have an answer for this, given architecture was a massive focus in Art History the last time I was in school... Roman architecture comes to my head first, if that says anything. What was one of your favorite things from the nineties? BOY OH BOY, SO MUCH!! I'm probably gonna say the toys. There was some dope shit, man. Do you collect things pertaining to an animal? ANYTHING and EVERYTHING featuring a meerkat!!!!! :''') Do you wish that people were kinder to spiders? Well, yes. I hope everyone in their heart wishes this, even if they're afraid of them. They're very important to our ecosystem, and none are out there to harm us; their existence does us a favor. Where do you normally order pizza from? Domino's (my favorite) or LIttle Caesar's for the price. Did your parents keep anything of yours from when you were a baby? Oh yes, loads of stuff that's stored away somewhere. Do you own one of those "____ For Dummies" books? No, but I feel like we had one at some point? What was the last VHS tape that you watched? Yikes, who knows. Did you watch Boy Meets World back in the day? I actually didn't, no. Our old neighbor though loved it so much that she named her daughter Tapanga (deliberately spelled that way). Who is your favorite Scooby Doo character? I never really had one. Maybe Thelma. If I were to give you a coloring book, what would you want its theme to be? Animals. Have you ever won a stuffed animal at a carnival? Possibly a small one. I can tell you I did however accidentally stab the guy who ran the dart-throwing booth though, lmfao. He was obviously fine, and it wasn't a bad wound. I felt SOOOOOO bad. Are you a fan of narwhals? I'm a fan of any animal. Narwhals are definitely fascinating creatures. Grape or orange soda? Orange. Grape-flavored soda ain't my thing. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so painstakingly boring and repetitive. Did you have a favorite Disney movie as a child? It was and still is The Lion King. Do you or have you ever owned a portable gaming console? Yeah, a GameBoy Advance and Nintendo DS. Is shyness cute? It definitely can be. Have you ever had alcohol poisoning before? No. Do you like to gossip, or do you prefer to keep your mouth shut? I'm not a gossip fan. Have you ever vandalized someone else’s property before? Most definitely not. Are your parents divorced? Yes. Have you ever been under suicide watch for 72 hours in a psychiatric ward? Yes; at least here, that's protocol when you're admitted for suicidal thoughts/tendencies. Have you ever gone through your significant other’s phone or social media accounts, or do you respect their privacy? Absolutely not. That shit pisses me off so badly. Do you wear any sort of clothing for religious reasons? No. What's something you worked extremely hard to get? My sanity back. Sounds so dramatic, but I'm literally not kidding. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I remember. How many kids do you want to have? I don't want kids, but to entertain the question, when I did, I wanted three. It's fuckin wild to imagine for even a second that I once wanted that. Do you believe that being gay is a sin? *eye roll* Are you any good at photography? If so, what’s your specialty? I mean it with modesty, but I think I'm pretty good. My favorite thing to photograph are animals, but I generally take most pictures of people by request or pay. Judging by my deviantART account, my nature pics definitely get the most attention. Have you ever been a member of a gang before? Fuckin yikes, no. An infamous gang tried breaking into my childhood home once, so you can probably gather that I would never take part in their "big bad guys" bullshit. Have you ever felt like you were neither male nor female? No, I'm comfortable as a cisgender female. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? NO. Anything with raisins = NO. Do you think you’re attractive? No. Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No, not that I really passed notes to begin with. I'd be mortified, regardless of what it was about. Would you rather live in a tropical or arctic climate? Arctic. Do you have an older brother? Yes. He's technically my half-brother, but I don't see "half"s. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Are your collarbones prominent? Bitch I wish so I could get the damn dermal piercings I've wanted for years. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? As a kid, yeah. So ugly. Do you love yourself? It's... weird. Therapy is making me realize that a part of me, maybe even the bigger one, doesn't, but at the exact same time, I know I have worth just like every other human. I just don't treat myself like I do. What TV shows do you keep up with? None, until Meerkat Manor returns this summer. :') When’s the last time it snowed where you live? A couple months ago we got a little bit of it. Is your belly button pierced? No, but it would be if I was actually skinny. Just in my personal opinion, I don't at all think that that piercing would look nice on someone as overweight as me. Even if my damn dreams come true and I lose all the weight I want, my stomach will never look "normal," even after I get the excess skin removal surgery that will be very high on my priority list for my own self-image that's been nothing but loathsome since 2016. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is the obvious answer. What do you remember the most about your childhood? Lots of imagination. Parents arguing. Playing with my little sister. What age did you get your first hair cut? I have no idea. Do you have a favourite toy from childhood still? No. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of it. Have you ever made bread? No. Would you ever consider shaving your head? Nah. Would you like to live in a realm where the zombie apocalypse is possible? Who says we don't now? Zombifying parasites already exist among insects and such, so like... it's not unimaginable to one day see one developed enough to infect humans. I sure as fuck hope not, but. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have a dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I did this many, many months ago, but I guess watch an episode of The Witcher by my own volition. I don't really do spontaneous things with how routine I am, but I had a random urge to check it out one morning. How loud can you whistle? Not very loud at all. Does anything on your body hurt or itch right now? My knees really hurt. They're getting worse. When was the last time you built a sandcastle? There's noooo telling, it's been many years. Have you ever ridden a mechanical bull? No. Well, not a *real* one, anyway. Just the little ones for kids. If you had to appear on a game show, which one would you choose? Family Feud. What is your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Food: Are you adventurous or do you stick to what you know? I absolutely stick to what I know. I am SO picky. Is there anything (out of the obvious) that makes you feel really ill? I'm not immediately sure, but there's probably something. Do you bump into things often? Yes. I've always had this weird habit of like... drifting when I walk, so I do this easily. I just kinda wander to the sides a bit without realizing it. What design is on your calendar this year? I don't have a current one. Did you enjoy playing Hop Scotch when you were younger? I did. Do you feel uncomfortable going to the movies by yourself? Nah, not really. I did that with Warcraft and it was actually pretty chill. When thinking about your dream home, what do you think would be your favorite thing to shop for? The ~g o t h i c~ decor. Do you ever listen to those lo-fi hip hop/study music playlists on YouTube/Spotify? No. Are you likelier to work harder if you’re being paid? If not, what drives you to give your best effort? I mean, yeah. I'd assume that's pretty normal. Does the fashion sense of a potential partner matter to you? No. Is there anything that you prefer to write down rather than type? I'm unsure. If you download/torrent things, do you remember the first thing you ever torrented? Oh, the Limewire days of music pirating... but no, I don't remember. What was the last thing you posted on Instagram? Something photography-related, but I don't feel like checking. What do you wish your hair looked like? I wish I could pull off pastel pink hair rn. It also desperately needs a trim. Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? I'm sure I always will, at least a little. Do you get any magazines in the mail? No. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Uhhhhh have I? I don't think so. Who’d you last see in a tux? Probably the groom of the last wedding I shot. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No, but I used to do that big time because I loved "rewatching" stuff when I was on the computer. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mother, big time. Who’s the bravest person you know? Also my mother. Or Sara. What profession do you admire the most? Teachers might just win. The patience that must take, among so many other things. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''bornless'' by 3teeth

[pennywaltzy]

🌹 (Can't wait to see what you post!)

Awww, thanks, hun! This is from the WIP in the MCU/Sherlock series I write for you and @strangelock221b (“Just Pieces On The Board”), from the first chapter of “Playing The Game: Act II – Knights & Knowledge, Romance & Regret.” Another large chunk, but I love this part...and hopefully this will be a fic I finish for WIPBB that gets art.

After a moment she laid down, knees still bent and then looked up. “What happens if we don’t find Phil and his team, Sherlock?”

After a moment he moved next to her, lying down next to her, their arms touching. “We go back to London. You live your live with my brother pestering you to join MI-6 every week and twice on the weekends.” Molly snorted a laugh at that. “I stop using your flat as a bolt hole and we share that bed of yours on a regular basis. Eventually, we find some semblance of normality like you had, unless that isn’t what you want.”

“And if it isn’t what I want?” she asked, turning to face him as the door opened again.

“Then I go where you go,” he said simply before they heard a cleared throat. Molly pushed herself up to a sitting position and turned to face the door, expecting Mary or Natasha or Clint.

Instead, there stood Phil Coulson, shaking his head with a smirk. “Trust you to get the guy who’s supposed to be a high functioning sociopath all sentimental, Hooper. I swear, you could give an android feelings.”

“Phil!” she said, scrambling to her feet. “Do you realize you’re an impossible bastard to find?”

“When you’re supposed to be dead, it helps,” he said. “Especially when your organization is no longer official. But I think we have some things to talk about, you and me and your team.” He paused. “And you have to tell me how you managed to get Romanov, Barton and the elusive assassin Rosamund under you because I know you’re good, but wow. I just managed to get Melinda when I started the team.”

“And Leo and Jemma,” she pointed out. A look crossed Phil’s face, one almost of guilt, and Molly frowned. “Phil?”

“There’s a lot you need to get caught up on,” he said, “and it’s not all good. But if you’re here to help take down HYDRA, I could use the help.”

“Just one member in particular,” Molly said, shaking her head. “And I have the feeling you want him taken down too.”

“Grant Ward?” Phil ventured. Molly nodded. “I almost forgot how close you and Victoria were.”

“Most people do. It wasn’t like we were open about it,” she said.

“You couldn’t be, then,” Phil said. He glanced over to Sherlock. “Does he…?”

“Know that I’m bisexual?” Molly asked. “Yes. And he knows Victoria was my ex-girlfriend. It’s not something I would like the others to know, though. I mean, as far as most of S.H.I.E.L.D. was concerned, we were best friends.”

“It was open knowledge about Victoria, you know,” Phil said.

“But about us?” Molly asked quietly. Phil shook his head. “Then if she died not talking about our relationship, it should stay between the few who knew the truth. But you know why I want Grant Ward to rot. You know what it means to me to make sure her death is avenged.”

Phil nodded. “Which is why your team is part of S.H.I.E.L.D. as long as it takes to take the bastard down,” he said. Molly felt a weight taken off of her shoulders. “Get dressed and go up to Natasha’s suite. She’s usually got Stoli, right?”

“She has some,” Molly said with a nod, and with that Phil turned around and left. A moment later Molly felt Sherlock come to her side and take her hand in his. “I suppose that life in London is going to have to wait a bit.”

“Just as well,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss in her hair. “I didn’t want to have to deal with my brother that much anyway.” Molly grinned a bit at that and the two of them headed towards the exit to go to the room. There wouldn’t be a chance to work up a sweat today, but there was forward movement on the mission. This was almost worth the loss of the moment of bliss.

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing  

#answering asks! #my stuff #wips #fanfic #fanfiction #lareinadehades

[arrow-guy]

Take Cover (11/??)

Summary: The world’s gone to shit and the Avengers have been missing for eight years. What difference can one person ever hope to make?

A/N: Hi, it’s been Too Long since I posted a new chapter of this story, but there’s no time like the present to get back to it. As a warning, this chapter is Super Emotional, so please go into it with caution. I made myself cry with this one, it’s that heavy. Anyway, please enjoy!

Page Dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Fire, severe exhaustion, Abuse, Murder

Part 10

“How did you figure out your powers?”

“Hydra tortured my brother and I until we were able to control them well enough.”

“I mean when you weren’t being used as a weapon.”

She frowns. “When I had the time, I would meditate. Retreat within my mind, and try to work towards the source of my powers. Then I was better able to control myself and my power. It is still a work in progress, but progress is made every single day.”

“Do you think it could work for me?” I ask. “My powers aren’t quite on the same level as yours, but they could come from the same place.”

Wanda shrugs. “It is worth a try, right?”

I nod and sigh. I press my palms together and rest my hands in my lap. Closing my eyes, I focus on trying to locate the source of my powers within me. Wanda tells me that she was able to gain better control of her powers by going back to the source. She explains that her source was a bright, angry, red ball of emotion at the core of her being, which she finds is anchored in her mind. I can’t even begin to guess at what mine will be, if I can even manage to find it.

No matter how hard I try, how tightly I squeeze my eyes shut, I can’t seem to find anything. Frustration flares in me and I clench my hands.

"I can't feel anything," I mutter. "It's just blank. Like I'm empty."

Wanda frowns. “There has to be something in there, (Y/N). Maybe you just need a little extra help to find it.”

“Are you suggesting-”

“That I poke around inside of your head?” she asks. I nod. “That is exactly what I’m suggesting.”

I hesitate. “I don’t know…”

She tilts her head to the side. “Why? Are you worried about what I might find?”

“No, it’s just… does it hurt?” I ask. “What if I lose control of my powers and hurt you?”

“That won’t happen,” she says. “And I promise that I will be gentle.”

I press my lips together. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Give me your hands.”

I reach out and we link hands. Her eyes glow red and her power gathers in her hands before traveling up my arms. Every point that a tendril touches tingles and goes numb. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on trying to locate my power. Even with a little bit of help from Wanda, I can feel something within me that I couldn’t feel before, but I can’t pull it forward.

“You need to relax, (Y/N),” Wanda says. “Getting frustrated will not help.”

I nod and take several slow, deep breaths. I try to release the tension from my shoulders and sit up a little straighter, but it still feels like there’s something holding me back.

“I can feel it, but I can’t reach it.”

“This will take time. You won’t get to it after only trying for five minutes.” Her grip on my hands tightens and I feel a surge of energy rush into my chest. “Allow me to help you look.”

The energy spreads from my chest to the rest of my body, but it’s most concentrated behind my eyes. The pressure inside my head builds until everything just falls away, and I’m free-falling through blank space. I hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs and I just lay there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. When I can finally manage it, I sit up. The area around me is bathed in pale, watery light.

I can vaguely hear Wanda’s voice in the distance. She’s trying to get my attention, but there’s too much going through my head for anything she says to stick. I stumble around in the hazy darkness until a light cuts through in the distance. I freeze in my tracks and watch as it advances on me. It gets closer and closer and I try to turn to run, but my feet are stuck in place. I can’t move.

I close my eyes and bring my arms up to shield myself as the light crashes over me. Wanda’s voice drains away completely.

When the light dissipates, it’s replaced by the warm, red light of a raging fire. I shield my face against the glow, only to realize what I’m looking at. It’s the Church. The farm I left behind all those months ago, up in flames. Something inside me forces me forward to find water, Tells me to put out the fire. Fix this. Put everything back the way things used to be. Control the outcome.

I race around, trying to find any source of water possible, but every single spigot that I know was at the farm is gone. It’s not until I find a single bucket near the chicken pens that I see any kind of source.

When I reach out to turn the crank, I jerk my hands back. Looking at my palms, I find massive blisters forming all over my hands. I clench my hands into fists and reach out again. I fill the bucket with water and throw the contents at the fire. I fill it again and again, but nothing I do makes any kind of dent in the wall of flames separating me from the rest of the facility. I keep working and push myself to the point of exhaustion.

I pause to take a break, only for the fire to swallow me up. The heat of the flames slams into me with enough force to knock me to the ground. I gasp for air and only manage to pull smoke into my lungs. With each breath, my vision grows darker and darker until I finally lose consciousness.

When I come to, I’m sat on the stool in front of Tony’s set-up in the lab. The same place where I first saw myself on the Most Wanted list. The place where I learned that Grant Ward had completely, and thoroughly betrayed me and everyone else who was supposed to trust him. That he had helped the government, Hydra, capture and torture Inhumans, my own kind, for no reason other than a sadistic fascination with taking something apart with absolutely no intention to put it back together. My blood boils just thinking about it.

I try to get up from the stool, but I’m held there by an invisible force. The more I struggle against it, the tighter the hold becomes until I’m gasping for air. Just when I think the restraints might crack a rib, the room goes dark. The restraints loosen slightly. Screens flicker to life from every possible angle, bathing the room in an eerie light. The room seems to tilt as a video begins to play.

A figure is curled into a ball in the corner to my left. It takes me a moment to recognize them as Daisy. The door opens and I flinch away when Ward walks in front of me. The audio from the video is garbled and fuzzy, like the sound is coming from far away as Ward addressed Daisy. She doesn’t move except to breathe and Ward nudges her with his boot. When she doesn’t respond he kicks her harder. I try to call out to her, to yell, scream, whatever I can to just get her attention, but no sound comes out.

Only when he does it a fourth time do her whimpers reach my ears. I yell for her again. Still, no sound.

Ward turns to face me completely and walks towards the screen facing me. He has a smile plastered on that is much too wide for his features and it makes my stomach churn.

“Ah, (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). How kind of you to join us again.” He grabs the back of Daisy’s shirt and drags her into the middle of the room. “All of this,” he gestures to Daisy, then the room in general. “All of this could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t been such a selfish little kid. Handed over the power to me instead. You never knew what you were doing. I was the only one who could’ve handled the pressure.”

Daisy gurgles out something incoherent and Ward kicks her again, several times over. “Shut up,” he hisses. “You’re the reason everyone left. No one trusted you. Not even Coulson’s favorites. Now look at them. Daisy’s the only one left.”

Bile rises at the back of my throat, and I gag. I try to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. I can’t force them past my lips.

“May was easy, Yo-yo didn’t stand a chance against the scientists, and Mack?” Ward whistles and shakes his head. “Not nearly as tough as he wanted everyone to think he was, was he, Skye?” He laughs when she doesn’t answer. “Fitz and Simmons, now they were fun. Watching one beg for the other’s life. Wow. That truly was something special.”

I strain against the restraints as tears roll down my cheeks. I still can’t force any sound past my lips, but something shifts in the bindings around my body. They loosen and give with each new movement, and they soon snap and disappear altogether. I lunge forward to stop Ward, only for the room to go dark again. I fall to my knees and bury my head in my hands.

“Don’t cry.”

I startle at the familiar voice and, trembling, lift my eyes to see them.

Coulson lays in a hospital bed, gaunt and sickly. This would be about the time he died, if not the exact day.

I shuffle over to his bedside and haul myself up into the chair there. The plastic is hard and digs into my back. I feel very small all of a sudden. I take several shaky breaths and reach out to take his hand. It’s cold and insubstantial, like he’s here, but just barely. He could disappear at any moment.

“I don’t know how much time I’ve got with you,” he says. “But I don’t want to make you cry, (Y/N). There’s been enough of that already.”

I nod and rub my tears away with the heel of my hand. I still can’t quite form words, but they’re there on the tip of my tongue. I just need a little extra time.

Coulson squeezes my hand. “Good. You always were one of my favorites.”

“You had a lot of favorites, Phil,” I mumble. “You liked people. A lot.”

“I certainly did my best,” he says. “Though I’m sure I could’ve done better.”

I shake my head. “No, you couldn’t. You were the best. You kept everyone together.”

“All that took practice. I had my fair share of failures among the successes.” He sighs. “I will admit, you didn’t  have enough time to get used to the position-”

“You didn’t even tell me I was supposed to be running S.H.I.E.L.D., Phil. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

“Would you have stuck around if I’d told you?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t even get to make that choice, and then I had to watch you die after I had to do the same with my dad.” I hunch in on myself. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“You’ve lost a lot already, but there’s still more to come before you can do anything about it.”

“What?”

“You’re on a journey here, (Y/N).” Images appear on the walls. My father’s death, trashing the Church, Daisy, Fitz, Simmons, May, everything, everyone I’ve lost along the way, laid out for me to see. Every image chips away at whatever’s been holding me together.

“Why?”

“Hell if I know, I’m just in your head. I do know that there’s just one last thing you need to see. You’re not ready. You’ll never be ready. But whatever it is you’re trying to find, this last thing is the key.”

“I don’t want that.”

“No, (Y/N). What you don’t like about this is letting go of your control over the situation. But you know that you’ve never been in control of any of this. You gave that up a long time ago.”

“I know.”

“You have to be strong,” he says. “Not just for everyone else, but for yourself. Especially yourself.”

I nod and wipe my thumb under my eyes. “I understand. Or I think I will, at least.”

“Good.” He squeezes my hand one last time. “This is it, kiddo. I can’t help you after this.”

“I know,” I take a deep, shaking breath. “I know.”

Phil nods once and settles back against his pillows.

Everything begins to blur and fade until Phil is gone and my chair disappears from underneath me. I expect to fall to the floor, but I slowly drift down through hazy white clouds. Only when I begin to relax does my momentum begin to build, and I find myself plummeting through open space. I wrap my arms around myself and curl into as tight a ball as I can manage.

I land with back-breaking force in a grassy field, arms and legs akimbo.

It takes a moment for my head to stop spinning and for me to register the world around me.

I feel the sun on my skin and manage to peel myself up from the ground and sit up. I’m in the middle of a grassy clearing in the middle of the forest. A short way off I can see two people playing in the sun, while another sits against the trunk of a tree, watching them. Curious, I wander closer to investigate. I freeze when I’m close enough to see the person against the tree.

“Dad?” I say.

He doesn’t register anything I said and doesn’t react when I sit beside him. He just stares at the two people in the middle of the clearing. I glance at the pair running around in the sun before looking back at my father. He’s so much younger than I remember him. Happier. The worry lines haven’t set in yet and the tension I remember in his shoulders isn’t there. It brings tears to my eyes realizing that this is probably before we lost my mother.

Dad leans forward slightly and I follow his gaze.

“Careful, Rose,” he calls. “Our little sparkplug is faster than you think! She’ll run you down in no time.”

The woman stops running away from the child, who I assume is me, probably around three years old here, to look back at dad and grin. Little me manages to get the upper hand and crashes into mother’s legs. Both of them tumble to the ground laughing.

“I got you, mommy!” I squeak.

“So you did!” she exclaims. “I think that warrants a prize.”

Little me gasps and sits back in mother’s lap as she sits up. I watch in awe as she plucks several daisies from the grass and closes them between her hands. When she pulls them apart, the daisies have tripled in size and number, weaving themselves into a vibrant green, white, and fuschia flower crown. Little me squeals and claps her hands and leans forward for mother to place the crown on top of her head. Mother laughs and positions the fragile crown daintily on her head.

“Do I look pretty?” little me asks.

Mother smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear, carefully smoothing down any stray strands. “You look beautiful, little one. Every bit the princess you are.”

A rustling in the underbrush at the other side of the clearing draws my attention away from my mother, and dad seems to have noticed it as well. Mother looks up when the first man in black breaks through the treeline.

Hydra.

The first man lifts his gun, followed by four more following through the brush. Dad tenses and slowly creeps forward until he’s just barely covered by the shade.

“Take her,” mother hisses. She slowly moves little me from her lap, trying her best to keep the toddler behind her back.

“But what about you?!” dad hisses back.

“Come with us,” one of the men in black demands. “Come freely and no one will be harmed.”

“Take her, Daniel!” she says. “You take her and-”

“You will come with us!” another man barks. “We will not give you another chance.”

A third man advances with his gun raised. “Don’t move!”

Mother raises her hands, submissive. She glances back at dad and little me, silently begging my father to grab me and get out of there. Little me makes the mistake of reaching out for her, saying, “Mommy?”

One of the men gets spooked and fires off several rounds. Dad lurches forward and snatches up little me. The rest of the men open fire on the clearing and my mother rears back before slamming her hands to the earth. The ground trembles and massive roots burst through the earth. Mother is shot in the leg and she cries out. Dad looks back for a moment. A mistake.

The men turn their fire on us, and little me cries out for our mother, not understanding what’s going on. I feel sick to my stomach, but stand rooted to my spot. I’m helpless to do anything but watch. I can’t even call out a warning.

The roots tangle around the men, binding their arms to their sides, forcing their guns from their hands. She then turns back and slaps her hand on the ground behind her. A wall of grass and roots weaves together behind my father and little me. Three more men emerge from the underbrush before the wall closes completely and my father looks back, just in time to see the three men shoot her. Once in the stomach, once in the heart, and one last time in her neck.

She chokes on her own blood and collapses onto the torn-up earth beneath her, arm outstretched to us as little me screams out for her. Dad takes off running, but the Hydra operatives make no move to follow them. Instead, they stand over my mother’s body, shaking their heads, freeing their companions, and radioing back to whoever they answer to. Eventually, they clear out, leaving my mother to bleed out in the middle of the clearing.

I’m finally able to make myself move and manage to stumble over to my mother. I fall to my knees beside her, hands hovering over her motionless body, unsure of what I’m supposed to do.

“No, no, mom, I-” my voice fails me when I can’t hold back the tears any longer.

I cover my mouth with one hand to muffle the broken noises I make as tears stream down my cheeks. This is why dad never talked about her. Why wanted everything to be normal for me growing up.

“I’m so s-sorry,” I sob. I lean forward and press my forehead to my mothers, hiccupping and sniffling, completely incapable of getting myself under control. “I can barely remember who you were. I never knew you. It’s not fair. None of this is fair.”

I curl in on myself and just allow myself to cry. Let everything out. The grief, the pain, the stress, and anxiety, and pressure that’s been building up over the years. Let go of it, feel it, let it flow through me like it’s supposed to instead of keeping it bottled up.

Everything around me fades away, leaving me to cry alone in the dark.

“(Y/N)?“ I recognize that voice. “(Y/N), you gotta come back to us.”

“I don’t know how,” I answer. My voice is feeble. Broken. They won’t be able to hear me.

“Come on, sweetheart,” they say. “You’re strong. I know you can do this.”

The panicked edge in their voice causes me to worry. I prop myself up on one elbow and look around. Off in the distance, there’s a pinprick of light. It’s far away, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.

“Please,” they beg.

I stand up.

“Come back to us.”

I put one foot in front of the other. The voice urges me forward, gives me the strength to make the journey. The light grows bigger and brighter than before.

“Come back to me, (Y/N). I need you.”

I reach the edge of the light. Again, the voice pleads for me to come back. I take a running leap at the light, shielding my face with my hands. The world rushes in around me as soon as I crash through the barrier.

Someone sits in front of me, quietly begging for me to come back. Their warm hands on either side of my face slowly pull me forward. I can’t quite open my eyes yet. It feels like they’re glued shut. I feel myself begin to shake with the effort it takes to force my eyes open.

The person in front of me slowly comes into focus as I manage to pry one eye open, then the other. I squint against the lights but manage to make out their face.

“Clint?”

“(Y/N), oh, thank God.” He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. “We couldn’t get through to you. I didn’t know what to do.”

“H-how long was I out?”

“Five, maybe six minutes?” He looks to Wanda for confirmation. “Wanda couldn’t pull you out of it.”

I let out a shaky breath. Everything I saw is slowly sinking in and my eyes fill with tears.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” Wanda says.

“What happened?” Clint asks. He looks from me to Wanda for an answer.

“I can’t,” I shake my head. “Not here.”

Clint nods. “Okay.”

He helps me to my feet, almost supporting my full weight with his arm.

“Carry her,” Wanda says. “She is weak.”

Clint looks to me for approval and, only when I nod does he pick me up. He gently kisses my forehead and walks out into the hall. I let my head fall against his chest and hold my hands against my stomach when my fingers start to tingle. I don’t feel like I’m in control anymore.

Clint and I curl up together in bed, but he doesn’t ask me to talk. He keeps me close to his chest, my head tucked under his chin. I allow myself to calm down, for my shoulders to stop shaking, and for the tears and sniffling to subside before even trying to get his attention.

“I think I’m ready,” I say.

“Okay,” he says. He shifts back enough to see my face. “Don’t push yourself.”

I nod. “Wanda was trying to help me figure out how to use my powers. Something went wrong and I got stuck in my head, but it felt like it was longer than five minutes. It felt more like hours, and there was nothing I could do to control what was happening. There were just urges and feelings and no way to escape.”

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Can you tell me about what you saw?”

I recount the scene from the farm, how I had to keep throwing water on the fire until I passed out. About Ward and Daisy. About seeing Coulson again. “It was like he was there. Like the day he died. More lucid that he’d been for months right before he passed. He knew more about what was happening than I did.”

“He always seemed to figure things out before everyone else.”

“He warned me about the last thing I saw. Said I wasn’t ready for it and that I never would be.”

“Was he right?”

“Yes,” I whisper. I press my lips together to keep myself from crying again. I suck in a sharp breath and wipe my cheeks. “He was right. He always was.”

“What happened?”

“I saw how my mom died.”

“I thought she left when you were little.”

“No, she-” I take a shaky breath. “She was an Inhuman. She could control plants. She and I were playing in a clearing in the woods when I was about three. My dad was watching us. We were ambushed by a team of Hydra operatives. I think they were trying to bring her in or something, maybe for their experiments, but they didn’t try very hard. When I reached out for her, one of the operatives got spooked and started shooting. It turned into a full out firefight. My dad managed to get me out of there, but my mother was shot.”

“(Y/N)...”

“And I had to just watch while it happened. There was nothing I could do to stop it.” I cover my face with my hands. “I watched my own mother get murdered when I was a little kid because she was an Inhuman. Because she was different. And now I’m just like her, facing off against the same people, and I can’t even control my powers like she could.”

“You’ll get there. You’re already leaps ahead of where you were last week.”

“Huh?”

“Webster is like four floors up right now,” he says. His brows pull together. “Did you not know that?”

“No, how could I?” I begin to panic, which sends my fingers sparking. I hold my hands tight to my chest and shuffle away from Clint. I shake my head and curl into myself.

“(Y/N)-”

“No, I can’t do this.” I can feel myself start to hyperventilate. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

“Give me your hand.”

“Wh-”

“Gimme your hand, (Y/N),” he says. “I’m serious.”

I tentatively place my still sparking hand in his. The muscles in his forearm tense and I try to pull back. Clint doesn’t let me. Instead, he holds on tighter.

It dawns on me that he trusts me. Trusts that I won’t hurt him. I don’t want to hurt him. I won’t hurt him. I won’t. I won’t. I silently repeat it like a mantra and push down my panic. Clint relaxes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I chant as Clint pulls me against him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Clint.”

“Honey, calm down,” he says. “You just gave me a little shock.”

“I could’ve hurt you.”

“You’d never hurt me. You’re too patient for that.” He ducks his head to look me in the eye. “I love you, (Y/N). I know you can get this.”

My heart hammers in my chest. “I love you too.”

Clint cups my face and kisses me. “We’ll do this together. Okay?”

I sniff once and nod. “Okay. Together.”

He smiles, kisses my forehead, and holds me close. I fall asleep against his chest.

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked this chapter, please reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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#clint bartonxreader #readerxclint barton #clint barton x reader #reader x clint barton #hawkeye #clint barton #my perfect birdie boy #reader insert marvel fic

[daisylincs]

30, 48 + 75 for Staticquake

30 = Holiday AU, 48 = Fake Dating and 75 = Bed Sharing. 

Well wow, this ask combines some of my favourite tropes ever! So I guess it's really not all that surprising that it got totally out of control, and instead of the nice, moderately long fic plan I had planned, I have an absolute beast of a bullet-point fic for you. 

I’m not even kidding - this baby was eleven pages long in Microsoft Word. Eleven pages of pure fluff and smiles and fake-dating shenanigans under the Grecian sun. 

Now, I would say sorry for letting it get so out of control, but I'm afraid I enjoyed myself far too much! #sorrynotsorry. Here's to stories that write themselves! 

Daisy works as the chief programmer for Shield Incorporated - works so hard, in her friends' opinion, that she'll pass out on her desk before admitting she needs a break. (Daisy would argue, but… it's probably true.) 

So when their boss, Coulson, announces that the company will be sponsoring a trip to Santorini, her friends are all over her that she HAS to go. 

"Come on, Dais," everyone from Jemma to Mack cajoles. "Your next project can wait a week, and besides, this is the chance of a lifetime. You'll regret it if you don't go." 

"Guys, thanks for caring, but I'd really rather finish this -" she tells her assembled friends, but trails off as she notices Ward making his way across the room to them, clipboard in hand and sneer firmly in place on his face. 

Her friends’ mood instantly changes from oh-let’s-tease-Daisy to let’s-all-stand-in-front-of-Daisy-scowling. It gives Daisy a little warm glow to see that she has so many people who care about her, and are literally willing to jump into a fight for her, if the fierce look on Bobbi’s face is any indication.

In fact, if the air of hostility around them was any more obvious, Ward would literally drop down dead of it. But, somehow, he still manages to be oblivious.

“I’m here to write up who’ll be going to Santorini with us,” he says, smiling around the group.

Bobbi raises her hand, and Daisy has never seen the simple act look so threatening before. May, she thinks, would be proud. 

In stony silence, the rest of the group raise their hands, too, and Ward shifts just a little uncomfortably as he notes it down.

He turns to Daisy, looking her up and down slowly, and she’s already itching to slap him. “Of course, Daisy won’t be going,” he says, as though it’s obvious.

Now, Daisy really had been planning on saying no - right until he said that, at least.

“Actually, Grant,” she says, emphasizing his first name because she knows he hates it (she did pick up a few things, at least, before she found the cheating bastard in bed with another woman.) “I am going on the trip.”

 She pretends not to notice how her friends are exchanging gleeful glances, keeping her attention focused on Ward. 

“Really,” he drawls.

“Yes, really,” she answers calmly. “Why is that so shocking?”

Ward is smirking, and she hates the way he seems to have one over her. “Well, because this trip is specifically for couples.” 

Daisy’s jaw drops, and she catches Jemma’s eye over Ward’s shoulder. Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner??? she asks with her eyes.

I didn’t know you were going to do this!! is Jemma’s nonverbal reply. 

Daisy huffs and tries not to fume, which fails miserably when she sees just how smug Ward looks. Little alarm bells start going off in the logical part of her brain, but the emotional part - the far bigger part - drowns them out.

“That’s no problem,” she says, keeping her voice light and casual. “I’ll just go with my boyfriend, then.”

Over Ward’s shoulder, she sees Jemma choke on her lemon water, and Bobbi reaches across to pound her on the back till she recovers. Once Jemma has stopped trying to swallow her own lungs, both girls give her WTF??? looks over Ward’s shoulder.

Daisy ignores them. “Yes,” she says as calmly as she can. “I’ll be going with my boyfriend, Lincoln.” 

She just blurted out the first name that popped into her head, but when she sees the looks on her friends’ faces - a range of you’re kidding, right? to I fucking knew it - she knows, oh dear God she’s going to regret this.

But it’s too late to take anything back now. 

At least she gets to enjoy the look on Ward’s face as he writes it up - like he’s simultaneously sucking on a lemon and stepping on a cactus. 

Just as soon as he’s gone, her friends round on her. 

"So," Mack says, his voice heavy with scepticism, “you and Lincoln are dating? Congratulations." 

Daisy feels her cheeks flame, and tries not to notice how Hunter is unashamedly sniggering into Bobbi’s shoulder. "Shut up,” she grumbles. “I wasn’t thinking straight, okay? Ward just drives me so mad, and I…”

She trails off as it really hits her what she’s done - she told Ward she was dating Lincoln, which she most definitely wasn't, no matter how much her friends insisted they were perfect for each other. And that would be bad enough on its own, but to make things even worse, she also can’t let out the truth, otherwise Ward wins.

"Well, shit," she says succinctly. 

Her friends are all shaking their heads at her, but most of them are hiding smiles. Daisy scowls, knowing full well this is only going to make the teasing about oh-you-and-Lincoln-should-totally-get-together ten times worse.

“So, do you want me to call Lincoln over?” Jemma asks, definite smugness in her grin. “I think he’s still working on that biomolecule project.”

“Thanks,” Daisy grumbles. 

Her friends all smirk at her, and Hunter being Hunter can’t resist getting a dig in: "You know, when we said we wanted you to come along, this isn't quite what we meant.”

Bobbi punches him, but she’s smirking, too. “Good luck, Daisy,” she says. “Have fun explaining.”

Daisy scowls at her friends’ retreating backs. Oh, they’re a bunch of assholes. They’re enjoying this. 

Lincoln’s voice snaps her from her thoughts. “Jemma said you wanted to see me?”

Oh, joy. How the hell does she explain this? She can't exactly say, oh, hey, Lincoln, I kinda told Ward we were dating, mind pretending to be my boyfriend for this trip I booked? 

"You can't be serious," Lincoln says incredulously, and Daisy's cheeks simultaneously burn bright red and blanch ashy white as she realises that shit, she said that out loud. 

"Um… Afraid I'm dead serious," she says, and winces. 

Lincoln's expression shifts into the special Daisy-what-the-actual-hell look he's perfected over the years of being her friend. "Are you crazy?" he asks, politely. 

She winces again. "Um, probably." 

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he says, and she prepares herself for the inevitable Daisy-this-is-a-terrible-idea-what-were-you-thinking speech, “as ideas go, this isn’t your worst one yet.”

Daisy starts to nod, putting on her best contrite expression, but stops mid-nod as she realises what he actually said.

Wait, what?

“Wait, it’s not?” she asks.

Lincoln shakes his head slowly. “Incredibly, no,” he says. “It actually kind of makes sense.” 

Daisy narrows her eyes suspiciously as a thought hits her. “Hang on a second. You’re just saying that because you want me to go on a break.”

“Of course not!” he denies immediately. “Okay, well, fine, maybe. But it also makes sense Ward-wise, if you think about it.”

“Oh?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Well, this way he might finally stop creepily following you around, trying to get back together with you and persuading you that the breakup wasn’t his fault,” Lincoln lists.

Daisy can’t hold back a snort at that last one. It’s true, Ward does seem to think their breakup wasn’t on him - even though he had literally been sleeping with another woman for the entirety of their relationship!

Honestly, if dodgy relationship ethics were reason enough to fire someone, Daisy was certain Coulson would have kicked him out a long time ago.

“And anyway,” Lincoln continues, snapping her back to the present, “it’s not like we’ll even have to work all that hard to convince him. All we’ve got to do is hold hands and take a few cheesy selfies.” His eyes light up as an idea occurs to him. “Oh! And we can call each other really cringey couple names.”

She can feel the grin spreading across her face, because if you put it like that, this actually sounds really fun. “You can be snickerdoodle, and I’ll be honeypie.”

He snorts. “Snickerdoodle?” 

She bats her eyelashes up at him, stepping right into his space and talking in a baby voice. “My one and only snickerdoodle, I wuv you so muchhhh!”

He rolls his eyes, shoving her playfully away. “Okay, so we’re going to be one of those really cringey, clingy couples, then?”

“We are going to be the clingiest, most cringey couple in the history of the world,” she says gleefully. 

And oh my God, this is going to be the best thing ever. She can already see the look on Ward’s face.

She never thought she’d say it, but she’s counting down the days till the trip. 

Now, the company arranged for them all to meet up an hour before their flight at the airport. Daisy and Lincoln, however, arranged for her to be late, so they can greet each other in the cringiest way possible.

Exactly as they planned, she makes it just-just in time for the meetup. She drops everything and runs into Lincoln’s arms, and he picks her up and literally swings her around. 

“Oh, babe, I’m so glad I made it,” she says breathily when he puts her down, dramatically flinging her arms around his neck.

“I thought I was snickerdoodle,” he murmurs into her hair.

“I wanted to give Jemma a break,” she explains, resting her forehead against his so it looks like they’re Having A Moment.

“Fair enough,” he concedes, stepping away and going to pick up her bags. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to!” she cries in her most girlish, ridiculous voice, rushing to his side and giving him the most sappy, stupid smile she can call up. Oh, hell yes, she’s going to milk this cringey girlfriend thing for all it’s worth. 

Lincoln rolls his eyes, but plays along. “Of course I did, honeypie,” he says, reaching for her hand and returning the heart eyes.

Daisy has to muffle her laughter in his shoulder when she sees Ward flashing them an annoyed look.

But Ward hasn’t seen anything yet. Plan Cringe is only just in its starting phases.

They sit next to each other on the plane, and Daisy makes a big show of getting out her dual headphone adaptor so they can watch movies together. (She also makes sure they pick out the cringiest rom-com available, and coo over it together in the most obnoxious way imaginable.)

When they’ve finished three movies like that (Daisy can see Jemma wincing from the aisle in front of them, and honestly it just makes the whole thing better) she lifts the armrest between their seats and rests her head against his shoulder. He spreads his crappy plane blanket over them both, and Daisy falls asleep in seconds. 

But before anyone gets any ideas - looking at you, Jemma, and you, Hunter - this doesn’t mean anything’s changed between them. It just means they’re good friends, and comfortable with each other, despite this crazy prank they’re pulling. 

The next morning, they land in Greece - and oh my God, all her friends were right. Daisy has been stuck in front of a computer for too long, and she has been missing out. This place is absolutely breathtaking. 

And absolutely perfect for cringey couples selfies.

 Seriously, they couldn’t ask for a better backdrop - Albuquerque-style white buildings with bright blue roofs, bright pink bougainvillea flowers, and the teal-blue Aegean on the horizon. 

They get a few really good ones - like that time when they climbed all the way to one of the buildings on the very top of the mountain. Hunter, who had a surprising eye for it, posed them, having Daisy wrap her arms around Lincoln’s neck and him pick her up and look adoringly up at her. The result is every bit as nauseatingly lovey-dovey as she could have hoped. 

(Daisy’s pretty sure Ward excused himself to go throw up.) 

So all in all, it’s been a great day.

Then they get to the hotel. 

"Here's your key," the receptionist lady tells them pleasantly. Then, because she's some poor, misguided soul who just wants to be nice, she adds with a wink, "the honeymoon suite is the best, I'm sure you two will make good use of the bed." 

Daisy almost chokes on her welcome lemonade. “Honeymoon suite?” she splutters.  

"Of course!" the reception lady says, mistaking her horrified shock for the delighted kind. “Only the best for our guests from Shield.”

Daisy takes their key, feeling as though her cheeks have actually lit on fire. This was not the plan!

“Have fun!” the haplessly oblivious receptionist calls after them, obviously thinking they’re one of those new couples who are still adorably shy around each other. “I’m sure you’ll make some unforgettable memories here in Santorini.” 

Lincoln follows her into the elevator, and neither of them can look each other in the eye. 

That only gets worse when they see their room.

Oh, dear God, the receptionist lady wasn’t kidding. This is a honeymoon suite and a half! Rose petals, candles, soft mood music - you name it, this room has it. 

“Okay, seriously?” Daisy asks, picking up a heart-shaped chocolate. It’s a bit of a desperate attempt to lessen the awkwardness of the situation, but Lincoln catches on gratefully.

“That’s taking it a bit too far,” he agrees, taking the chocolate from her and studying her. 

Dear heavens, it actually says To your true love on it.

“So, um,” he asks, very deliberately looking at the chocolate and not at her, “how are we going to do this?” 

“Well, I’d suggest just taking the wrapping paper off before you eat it,” she says.

Lincoln gives her an unimpressed look. “Not what I meant.” 

“I know,” she says, scooping up some of the rose petals and scattering them on the floor. “Well, uh. So. Obviously, this is awkward.” 

He mutters something that sounds like “yeah, no kidding.” 

“But,” she soldiers on, “we’re both adults, right? And we’re both capable of basic maths?” 

He nods slowly, clearly not sure where she's going with this.

“Well, then,” she explains. “You stay on the left half of the bed, I’ll stay on the right.” 

Something indefinable - a mix of relief and regret, maybe - flits across his face, but it’s gone before she can be sure. “That sounds fine,” he says.

 It’s a little awkward as they change, definitely definitely not looking at each other (okay, fine, it’s a lot awkward. But, seriously, what was she expecting?) 

Then they have to turn the lights off. 

There’s just no way this can not be awkward. They’re sharing a bed, for God’s sake! And no matter how much Daisy can go on about maths and being adults, she knows she’s a snuggler and she’s 99% sure they’re going to end up spooning at some point.

So she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and says it. “If I… come lie next to you, um, can we pretend it never happened in the morning?” 

She feels rather than hears Lincoln exhale in the dark. “Okay,” he agrees quietly. 

She shifts over to his side of the bed, settling until she’s found a comfortable spot (conveniently with her head pillowed on Lincoln’s shoulder.)

Now, Daisy has always had trouble falling asleep - the consequences of bouncing from foster home to foster home, where any night might be her last there. 

But tonight, with Lincoln’s one arm thrown around her waist, she falls asleep in seconds.

The next day, when they go down to breakfast together, there’s a genuine fondness in the way Daisy laces her fingers with his. There aren’t many people who would pretend to date you and spend the night snuggled up with you without giving you any issues about it.

That fond feeling stays with her for the rest of the day, and she finds herself secretly quite enjoying all the cringey couple-y things they do together. Sharing ice-cream? Awesome. Bumping shoulders as they walk? Great. Pressing a kiss against his cheek in their latest Santorini-selfie? Sure, why not! They’re friends, and she really appreciates him, so it’s only natural that she wants to show it, right?

The next day passes in much the same way, and the next - sunshine and happiness, ice-cream and laughter, white beaches and blue waves and smiles that she doesn’t have to fake at all. 

Then comes the double whammy: the Santorini Annual Summer Ball.

It’s only the most romantic night ever, and it’s pretty much tradition for couples to kiss after every dance.

Daisy tells herself she’ll talk to Lincoln about it as soon as they get to their room that night. 

Only… she wasn’t expecting how different the room would feel, knowing what she’s supposed to talk to him about. 

Kissing. 

They’ve done a lot in this faux relationship, but never that. Sure, she’ll kiss his cheek, and he’ll kiss her forehead, but they’ve never actually, you know, made out.

And they’re going to have to tomorrow, otherwise there’s no way Ward’s going to believe they’re a couple. With how stupidly romantic and clingy they’ve been acting, they basically have to kiss at this dance. 

Which brings her back to this damned room, with its rose petals and candles and bloody romantic atmosphere. 

“Daisy, are you okay?” Lincoln asks when he comes out of the bathroom, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

She swallows as she sees him - the soft blue of the sweatshirt he sleeps in really brings out the colour of his eyes, and the way his damp hair sticks up is oddly adorable.

“I’m fine,” she manages to say. “Just… we need to talk about the dance tomorrow.” 

Lincoln freezes with his towel halfway up to his hair. “Ah.” 

“We have to kiss,” she tells him, trying to make it as matter-of-fact as possible but finding herself irritatingly breathless about it.

“Daisy, no, I don’t want to pressure you into anything -” he says immediately, but trails off when she steps forward and presses a finger against his lips.

“Shut up,” she tells him firmly. “If anything, I pressured you into this. I started the fake relationship, and it was my idea to be so clingy.” 

He gently shifts her hand away from his lips, keeping a hold of her wrist for a second longer than strictly necessary, and Daisy’s breath did not just catch. “I didn’t exactly complain,” he says wryly. 

“Well, that’s because you’re a good friend,” she says, and he gets that strange expression on his face again, like he’s trying to tell her something but can’t quite find the words. 

“Yeah,” he says at last, strangely reluctantly. “We’re friends. Good friends.”

She chooses to ignore the strange tone for now. “A good friend,” she says, “who I need to kiss right now.” 

“Now?” he asks, and surprised is a good look on him. His eyes flick inadvertently down to her lips, and she tries not to be too pleased about that.

“Yes, now,” she says, and dammit, her voice has gone all breathless. She clears her throat, forcing herself to remember why she’s doing this. “So we can be sure we’ll look alright when we kiss in front of everyone else. We’re a couple, we’re supposed to have kissed many times before. It needs to look natural.” 

“Good point,” Lincoln agrees, his eyes flicking down to her lips again.

Daisy shifts a step forward, just enough that she’s in his space. “So,” she says softly. 

“So?” he repeats, looking slightly amused as he copies her, closing the distance between them even more. 

Daisy’s breathing hitches again. This slow buildup, coupled with the romantic feel of their room, is doing really funny things to her heart. 

Breathless, tingly kind of funny things.

She can’t take it anymore and closes the last step of distance between them, bracing her palm against his chest as she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He kisses her back immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she leans into him. 

It’s soft and slow and romantic and really, really good.

After a minute, Daisy pulls away reluctantly, her lips tingling. “I can… work with that,” she manages, only she’s looking at his lips instead of at him. She clears her throat and steps away.

Lincoln looks about as wrecked as she feels. “Yeah,” he says softly, touching one hand lightly against his lips. 

Daisy swallows as her own lips tingle slightly in response. She ducks her gaze away, sure she must be blushing like crazy. 

“So, um,” she says, and her voice is a lot less steady than she’d like, “shall we go to bed?” 

Lincoln’s gaze is far too soft as he looks at her - she thinks she might melt. After a second that seems to stretch out into eternity, he shakes himself and gives her a small smile. “Of course.” 

That night, she struggles to fall asleep. Memories of their kiss keep playing in her mind, and it doesn’t help that she’s resting her head against Lincoln’s chest, surrounded by the comforting smell of him. 

She keeps telling herself to stop thinking about it, that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just to keep up the charade. 

But when morning rolls around and she still hasn’t slept any (but has managed to come up with more and more ridiculous theories for why she’s feeling this way, including, bizarrely, an invasion of blue-skinned aliens) she’s forced to conclude that she feels this way because she loves him.

Not even likes him - loves him. It’s the only explanation for the warm, glowing feeling she gets when he brings her her ridiculously complicated coffee order, or when he casually slings an arm around her shoulders when they’re joking with their friends.

She tried to tell herself that it was just fakery for Ward’s benefit - and while that might be true for him, it’s not true for her anymore.

Every cheesy couple thing they did together? She wants to keep doing it. Every time they bump shoulders or share ice-cream or splash each other with blue sea-water? She wants to keep doing it. Every time they kiss each other on the cheek? She wants to keep doing it!

And above all, she really, really wants to kiss him again, the way they kissed last night.

Shit. 

Lincoln’s still asleep next to her, and Daisy panics as she looks down at him. Shit, shit, shit. Oh, this is so bad. How did it get so bad? 

There are literally a thousand reasons why this would never work out, first and foremost being that he probably doesn’t feel the same way - he’s her friend! He confirmed that last night, right when he also confirmed that they were just doing this for the fakery.

Daisy doesn’t really know what she’s doing, just that she can’t be in the same room as him anymore. So she jumps out of bed and runs to find the person she knows will always be there for her in a crisis - Jemma. 

“Daisy!” Jemma exclaims, surprised, when Daisy bursts into her room still in her nightclothes and with her hair wild. “Uh, what…” 

“Jemma, I have a problem,” she announces, standing silhouetted in her friend’s door like she’s in some incredibly dramatic action shot in a movie (except for the fact that she looks like a mess.) “I’m in love with Lincoln.”

Fitz, sweet soul that he is, takes one look at Daisy and tactfully decides to make himself scarce. “I’m going to go… watch football… with Hunter,” he says, squeezing past her, and Daisy is too riled up to even bother herself about the lame excuse. Who watches football at seven in the morning, anyway?

“I think you need to come sit down,” Jemma tells her, pulling her firmly over to her and Fitz’s bed. “Tell me the whole story.”

Daisy hesitates, chewing her lip… and then it all comes spilling out. “Lincoln and I kissed last night,” she blurts. “We said it was just to make sure we’d look natural for the dance tomorrow - tonight - but it meant more than that for me. And, Jem -” she paused, hiding her head in her hands, “I’ve gotten myself into such a mess. I’ve fallen in love with my friend who’s only pretending to love me.”

Jemma is quiet for a few beats as she processes this information. Then, gently but firmly, she lifts Daisy’s head out of her hands. 

“Daisy,” she says, quiet but firm, “you are not in a mess.”

Daisy makes a sound that’s half a laugh and half a sob. “Haven’t you been listening to me? I love Lincoln, who’s only pretending to love me back.”

“Pretending… because you asked him to,” Jemma reminds her. “Now, why do you think he did that?”

“Because he’s a good friend?” Daisy replies, not sure where Jemma is going with this.

Jemma rolls her eyes. “Well, yes, there’s certainly that. But, Daisy, d’you think he’d agree to be my fake boyfriend if I asked him?”

“Why would you ask him?” Daisy asked, more confused than ever now. “You have Fitz!”

Jemma throws up her hands. “You’re completely missing the point here! Daisy, you oblivious, wonderful idiot, the reason Lincoln agreed to this whole fake relationship thing is because he loves you too.”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t, he can’t, why would he -”

“Why wouldn’t he?!?” Jemma practically yells. “Have you even met yourself? You are literally one of the most amazing people on the planet.”

That shuts Daisy up. “Really?” she asks weakly.

Jemma shakes her head, disbelieving. “Really, Daisy,” she says firmly. “Are you kidding me? Who wouldn’t be in love with you?”

“I don’t know, Ward?” Daisy says, half-desperately gesturing with her hands.

Understanding dawns in Jemma’s eyes. “Oh. Oh.”

And then, “Daisy.”

“What?” Daisy asks, not liking the sympathetic expression on Jemma’s face one bit.

Jemma sighs. “Just because Ward was an absolute dick to you doesn’t mean Lincoln will be. You can let yourself trust that he loves you too, you know.”

Daisy’s surprise at the word dick coming out of Jemma’s mouth is seconded only by her surprise of what Jemma is actually saying. Of course she wasn’t being distrustful because of what Ward did to her… was she?

“Daisy, you are not unlovable or any such total rubbish,” Jemma says, and her British accent somehow makes the word rubbish sound so much better. “Ward not loving you right had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

And Daisy… believes her.

Jemma obviously sees the acceptance in Daisy’s eyes, because she presses on, “and while we’re at it - I don’t think either of you were pretending this last week.”

Daisy splutters - “what?? Of course we were pretending, don’t be…” 

But then she trails off as she remembers thinking how she secretly enjoyed doing the couple-y nonsense, and how after just a day she wasn’t faking a single one of her smiles.

She snaps her mouth shut. “Well,” she says. And blinks. “You really think Lincoln loves me too?”

If looks could kill, Daisy would be stone dead - of pure and unadulterated exasperation. “Yes, Daisy,” Jemma says in that tone that implies that even the patience of saints can be tested. “He loves you too. There is literally no doubt. Ask anyone.” 

Hunter chooses that moment to pipe up, “yeah, no, you two are definitely in love.”

Daisy’s jaw drops as she realises that her friends have all gathered in the doorway. “How long have you guys been there???”

“Just long enough to hear that last sentence,” Mack says reassuringly. He raises his eyebrows at her. “But it’s true, you know. You two are nauseatingly in love.”

If there had been any doubt in her mind, well, it’s gone now. Her friends are some of the most intelligent people in the world - they can’t all be wrong.

And they all think Lincoln loves her, so…

“What do I do?” she asks.

It’s Bobbi who replies. “Well, no offence,” she says, looking Daisy up and down, “but you look like shit.”

“Get some sleep,” Elena chimes in. 

“We’ll make up some excuse for Lincoln,” Fitz promises.

“And tonight,” Jemma says, taking her hands, “you blow us all away.”

All their supportive wonderfulness (and the fact that she is functioning on zero sleep) is too much for her emotional state. “Thanks, guys,” she says, and to her total embarrassment, she starts to cry.

Jemma just hugs her, though, and within minutes Daisy is fast asleep. She really was exhausted.

The good thing is, her friends let her sleep as long as possible.

The bad thing is, her friends let her sleep as long as possible.

As in, she now has five minutes to get ready for the dance.

Luckily, Jemma, Bobbi and Elena are really good at splitting up tasks - Elena somehow manages to transform her hair into soft, silky curls that beautifully frame her face, Bobbi does her makeup like a pro, and Jemma helps her get changed into a floaty, summery blue dress that looks stunning on her, if she says so herself.

But even with all their best efforts, she’s fifteen minutes late to the dance.

It’s held on the beach, under the light of the moon and stars (and some fairy lights in the trees, but shhh.) It takes her a moment to spot Lincoln, but eventually she finds him, standing on the far side of the beach and looking worriedly through the crowd.

When he spots her, his face relaxes into a smile that’s so perfectly and effortlessly happy that Daisy can’t help but smile back.

And she thinks, you know, they were all right. 

She walks slowly across the beach to him, and cliché as it is, she really does feel like Cinderella (minus the glass slippers, of course, because glass slippers plus sand? Can you imagine?) 

When she reaches him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to step right into his embrace. “Dance with me,” she says, offering him a dazzling smile.

He settles his hand at her waist, clasping the other one in hers, and oh, it’s so perfect she wants to explode into a cloud of rainbows and sparkles.

 When the song ends, she doesn’t think twice about leaning up and kissing him.

It’s only when he tenses, just slightly, that she remembers. She hasn’t actually told him yet!

He pulls away from the kiss, looking conflicted. “I need you to know,” he begins, “those last few days… they weren’t fake for me. And I’m sorry if I’ve ruined our friendship, but not seeing you for the whole day today made me realise it would tear me apart if I lost you. Daisy, I,” he stops, swallows, and says it, “I love you.”

Daisy bites her lip, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spreads across her face even if she had tried. “I love you, too,” she tells him.

He’s smiling, laughing even, happy and disbelieving, “Really?”

And she’s laughing too, “yes, of course, yes!”

Then they’re kissing again, and there’s nothing fake about it for a second. 

And as for Ward? Well, Ward can go fuck himself.

Even though they do, technically, have him to thank for this.

Daisy shudders. Ugh. Imagine being grateful to Ward!

She’d really rather not think about it.

So she kisses Lincoln again.

A song begins to play in the background, soft and slow and sweet, and Daisy smiles against his lips as she recognises it. Perfect, by Ed Sheeran. 

Well, she thinks, isn’t that just perfect. 

And that Grecian night on the beach, the soft glow of the moon turning the waves silver, and the scents of the bougainvillea flowers sweet on the breeze, really is the closest thing to perfect that Daisy has ever experienced.

The End.

#tropes mashup #holiday fic #fake dating #bed sharing #staticquake #bullet-point fic

[hithelleth]

AoS 7x07-x11

I caught up on it on Thursday, just didn’t have the time to write it down. (Also, turns out I did actually get through 7x06 on the previous batch of binging.)

7x07 was fun with the 80s/90s boy band .and all; they really should have leaned into the crack more.

Episodes 8 – 10 were okay, with quality Daisy x Daniel content. A+.

Episode 7x11: did they just admit Grant wouldn’t have been who he was without Garrett? (I know, they also did that with the Framework story in S4, or so I heard, because I wasn’t watching it.) Amazing.

And Coulson refusing to kill young Grant because he was just a child, not that that stopped them before – but even the writes putting that on screen. Wow.

Although they also had Kora say Grant would’ve been even worse without Garrett. Because I guess he’s inherently evil or something. Of course. I mean, these writers. They are how they are.

Speaking of Garrett, young Garrett was fun (and apparently the actor is Bill Paxton’s son. Well done, casting! Also, I was today year’s old when I realised the Bill Paxton as Garrett is the same Bill Paxton from Twister. And I love Twister. *headdesk*)

Actually, this episode reminded me that the old Garrett was fun, too. Don’t get me wrong, I hated that SOB, but he was a great villain. In retrospect, I think they made mistake by killing him and then pushing Ward as villain – they should’ve kept Garrett alive and given Grant a proper redemption arc (with consequences and all), meanwhile Garrett would’ve worked well as their personal big bad (and even he had that tiny bit of a tragic back story with having been left behind plus not really subscribing to Hydra’s ideology to not be one-dimensional) and he would have been a fun villain to hate.

See, we could have eaten the cake and had it.

But oh, well. Moving on.

I read that other post about disability erasure regarding Simmons giving Sousa a new prothesis, and I on principle agree that erasing disability is shitty but I also agree with the replies in that same post that the old prosthesis wasn’t super comfortable and caused pain, so why not alleviate his suffering if there’s the technology that can make his life easier. 

 That’s what demands for accessibility are all about, after all, aren’t they? Or should be, at least. To make the lives of people with disabilities easier, more on equal footing with everyone else. I don’t think enabling disabled people to live more easily/with less pain, erases their disability. Or should disabled people not be helped so they can be martyrs? If so, then you don’t care about disabled people, just about pro-forma representation. Being given accommodations that improve their lives doesn’t make disabled people any less disabled and it still means that they aren’t any less people if they are disabled.

That said the show did a poor, rushed job about it. At the very least, they should have had Simmons talk to him before manufacturing the prosthesis – I mean, shouldn’t she have fitted it to measure? Maybe they shot some more material and had to edit it out? Oh, well, never mind.

But, yeah, I’m okay with him getting a better prosthesis.

On a related note.

I can’t believe it’s 2020 and the thing that’s been making me smile every time I think of it since Thursday is this freaking show with the freaking flirting and betting and Mack being #1 Skye & Sousa shipper! <3

I’m actually looking forward to the finale, but also dreading it, because, well, it’s AoS.

They better not do something awful, because Skye does not deserve having another person die (like the repeat of Jiaying, but I guess they kinda redeemed her?) on her at the end. They owe her a happy ending.

And it’s the very least they sure as hell owe us.

#yeah this stupid show is making me smile in 2020 #Agents of Shield #aos s7 #aos meta #my meta: aos #really just #notes to self #so i don't forget

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Agents of Shield- 0-8-4

Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)

Summary: The gang finds a strange object in a South American cave, Grant and Violet mentally vibe, Violet gets shot, the side of the plane blows up!

Warnings: cursing, shoot-out, angry rebels, gunshot wound

Word Count:  11297 (she sorta long eek)

“S.H.I.E.L.D. 6-1-6, you have course confirmation. You are cleared direct to the Slingshot.” An agent’s voice came over the speakers. “Agent Coulson, everything all right up there? We heard you had a little dustup on the ground.”

“Yeah, we’re all good. It’s gonna be blue skies from here on out.” He replied shortly.

Then the side of the plane blew open, and wind rushed in, sucking things out and leaving Coulson clinging to the pole and struggling to hang on.

                                              19 HOURS EARLIER

I helped Skye take her last bag out of her van before she hopped out, dressed in a cute red dress with leather boots. I pulled the sleeves of Fitz’s green sweater down to my fingers as I lifted a bag for her and she took out a box.

“Hey!” She called to the agent who came to take her van. “No joy rides, okay? That’s my house.” She mumbled the last part.

“No worries.” He laughed and placed a gadget on it to turn the engine on.

She scoffed. “Where do they think of this stuff?” She smiled at me.

We walked up the ramp as it closed behind us. Jemma gave her a cheery welcome as we passed the lab. Fitz was hyperfocused on what seemed to be the dendrotoxin in the night-night gun. 

“Agent Coulson told us the news!” Jemma came with a smile. “What a wonderful surprise!”

Fitz followed her, hands fisted on his hips. He eyed me in his sweater, and his eyebrows shot up before he became stoic again as Jemma spoke.

“Isn’t it, Fitz?”

“Yes, what a surprise.” He nodded with a false smile, obviously disgruntled.

“No, it’s wonderful, you must be very excited!” Jemma cut him off.

“Yep, first day of school.”

“Alright, Jem, you can be best friends later. Come on, Skye.” I grinned at Jemma.

We walked up to the main floor, where I showed her the extra room.

“Do you guys just plan on having consults?” She asked, placing the box down on her bed with a laugh.

“No, I don’t think so. This was supposed to be my bedroom.” I placed the bag down on the bed.

“What happened, you bunk with big brother now?” She quirked an eyebrow playfully.

I tilted my head. “Agent Coulson tell you?”

“No. He mentioned it when he was under that truth serum. Is that real by the way? Because he said some real weird stuff. It was kinda freaky.”

“Uh, no. Truth serum isn’t real.” I squinted. “What kinda stuff?”

“Called your grandmother Gramzy.” She chuckled.

“Oh. Yeah, he’s good at lying.” I sighed.

She noticed the tension that came with the mention of Grant’s behavior and what he said.

“So. If you’re not sleeping here, and you’re not with your brother, where?” She sat on the bed and patted it.

I took the spot next to her. “Fitz and I share a bedroom. Coulson told us to take the bigger one, because we apparently ‘live stuck to each other’s hips anyways’.” I put quotes around that, rolling my eyes. “That, and he said he’ll probably spend most nights in his office anyways.” I smiled.

“You share a bedroom? Scandalous!” She giggled.

I chuckled. This was typical. Coulson had told me to gain her trust, get in her head. She was about my age, and I could probably read her fairly easily.

“We’ve been together for a few years now. We met at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. He’s the best.” I grinned.

Yes, I was playing a role, but anything I said about Fitz was bound to be genuine. I loved him with all my heart, and there was no easy way to lie about that.

“Cute, cute. How long exactly?”

“Uh well we met when we were like fifteen and sixteen, and we started dating when he turned eighteen, so like eight years.” I smiled.

“Aw! So, what does big brother think? About you dating the nerdy tech guy?” She wrinkled her nose, obviously joking.

“It’s uh… complicated. But I don’t really care what he thinks.” I shrugged, picking up the lag and closing the awkward gap. “Fitz is great, and I love him.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

I smiled, blushing. “Alright, come on. I’ll show you around.”

“So what exactly is this place?” She asked, following me through the halls.

“Officially, it’s an airborne mobile command station but we call it the Bus.” I saw Fitz-Simmons coming up the steps, joining us.

Fitz caught my hand in his immediately, falling into step with me. “Yeah, we find it best to use shorthand when in the field. But everything has to be just so, you know, because of the danger.” He seemed intent on scaring her.

I squeezed his hand and pulled on his arm, shooting him a look. He got the message that he was going to ruin Coulson’s plan and shut up, pouting like a child.

“Yeah, I’ve been up here before, but I didn’t see much because of the bag that Agent Ward put over my head.”

“Yes, so sorry about that.” Jemma smiled apologetically.

Skye turned to me, stopping in her tracks. “How do you handle that, by the way? Since there’s two of you?”

“Oh, everyone just calls me Violet.”

“Oh, that’s such a pretty name!” She took the water bottle Jemma offered.

Before I could reply, May came over the comms. “Wheels up in two. Lock it or lose it.”

“What’s that mean?” Skye looked at me with wide eyes.

“No backing out now.” Fitz smirked.

I glared at him very obviously before turning back to Skye with a reassuring smile. “Just means we should pack up your stuff before taking off so it doesn’t go everywhere. Come on.”

She started back toward her bunk and Fitz pulled me back by the arm.

“What is it? Why do you keep trying to scare her off?” I hissed in a hushed voice.

“I just don’t like new people is all. You know this. Come to our bunk once you’re done helping Skye, yeah?”

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. “Fine.”

He broke into a grin and leaned in to kiss my cheek before walking off. I rolled my eyes again, this time smiling. I went back to Skye, only to see Grant rapidly approaching her door. I cleared my throat and basically took a hop toward her door, leaning against the doorframe. Grant glared at me and knocked on her open door.

“Hey, I just shoved my bags into the drawers. I’ll unpack later.” She smiled at me and then turned to my brother, “Hey! I know we didn’t really-”

“You might wanna read that. This isn’t like other planes.” He shoved a paper in her hands and stalked off.

“Sorry about him. He’s got, uh, social issues.” I offered an apology.

“You could say that again.” She unfolded the paper, and I could now see that it was the layout and emergency exits for the Bus.

“Say what again?” Coulson approached now.

“Sweet ride.” Skye grinned at him.

“I earned a little goodwill from Director Fury when I got hit right before the Battle of New York.” He was referring to the Chitauri invasion that took place a year back, led by Loki Laufeyson and stopped by the Avengers.

“You took a bullet?” She asked, tossing the pamphlet aside.

“Ish.” Coulson said, and I turned tail and left.

I hated to hear his recounting of how Loki had stabbed him through the heart. Coulson believed that he had surgery and then was given a vacation in Tahiti. Only a few agents knew what had really happened, and we all had to pretend we didn’t. I passed Grant, perched on one of the bar stools.

“Violet.” He caught my attention.

I froze, plastered a smile on my face, and turned on my heel. “What’s up, Grant?”

“Come here for a minute.” He made a grabby hand.

I squared my shoulders as I padded over to sit next to him. He took a sip of his water before turning to me, eyes squinted.

“Why’s he bringing Skye?”

“She’s a fresh pair of eyes.” I spat out.

“Why’s he trusting her?” He fired.

“He’s got a plan.”

“What sort of plan?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you, Grant.” I smiled.

He paused, raising an eyebrow. This was an interrogation, and we both knew it. His face read a mixture of frustration and pride.

Give me the answers I want.

It was like I could hear him in my head.

Give up, Grant. I narrowed my eyes.

He wanted answers, but he was also glad to see I wasn’t easy to give them up. He switched subjects.

“You and Fitz. What is that? Friends with benefits? Are you guys secretly married, or—”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“How old is he?” A silent he looks twelve followed, and I felt a small sense of relief at being able to read his facial expressions.

“Twenty six.”

“Is he good to you?” It didn’t seem to be coming from genuine brotherly concern, but some ulterior motive.

“Always.”

“How long have you been a thing?” His head tilted.

“Eight years.” I didn’t have to do the math again.

“Has he ever hurt you?”

“If you count shooting me in the forehead with a NERF gun, then sure.”

I got an eye roll. “How about emotionally?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Where’d you meet him?”

“The academy.”

“Have you guys ever done anything physical?”

I leaned in with a scowl. “None of your business, dad.”

A pause.

“Why are you with him?”

“How many reasons do you want?” I tilted my head.

“First one that comes to mind.”

“He’s cute.”

“Wow, anything less shallow?” He recoiled.

“He’s smart. Funny, makes me laugh, makes sure I’m okay, takes care of me, doesn’t make me feel stupid-”

“Okay, I got the message.” He put his hands up, but I had already set up the kill.

“Oh, and he’s always there for me. Real supportive too.” I sat up straight.

I watched his face change as he gulped and looked down. That was a hit that had hurt, and it was intentional.

Jesus, Vi. You didn’t have to go there.

I didn’t expect Grant to tell me everything. I didn’t expect a written biography or complete transparency. But I had expected him not to lie to my face and act like I wouldn’t figure out. I had expected for him to support my choices, even ones as simple as I like Fitz and I’m dating him.

I met his glance with arched eyebrows.

I wanted to.

“Any more questions?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Great! I’ll see you in a bit.” I walked past him with a slap to the shoulder, my confident facade falling once I was in the safety of my room with the door shut.

“Darling? You alright?” He was sitting in the arm chair, already buckled up for the take off.

I felt tears cloud my vision as I swallowed hard.

“Come here.” He began to unbuckle himself, but I looked up and shook my head.

The plane lights flickered and there was a beep. I rushed to Fitz, falling into his lap as he wrapped his arms around me, a hand in my hair and the other around my legs, holding me against him. The take off only lasted a few minutes, and by then I had cried myself to calmness. Fitz’s white shirt now had tear stains on it, and the collar of his green flannel was a tad wet, but he didn’t care.

“Talk to me, Vi.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and cradled me in his arms as he laid me down on the bed and sat next to me, kicking his shoes off.

I only climbed back into his lap with my head against his shoulder and he leaned against the wall, sighing. I wasn’t crying anymore, but I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to. He pulled his arms around me, pressing kisses to my forehead.

“He’s different. He’s so different.” I finally croaked.

“What happened?” He angled his head down to look me in the eyes.

I shifted, sitting up to face him.

“He was asking all these questions about Skye, an-and then about you and I just- I… He got so … pissy? God no, that’s not the word. I don’t even think there is a word. He just got so-”

“Attackative?” He offered with a gentle smile.

“That is not a word.” I shook my head.

“No, it’s not. But it’s the word you need.” He shrugged. “What was he asking, darlin’?” He brushed my hair behind my ear.

I sighed. “Why Coulson was bringing Skye along, why we were trusting her.” I shook my head before meeting his gentle gaze.

“You don’t have to tell me the rest if you don’t want. I know it’s all delicate.” His eyebrows were furrowed.

I shook my head again. “He started to grill me.” I rolled my eyes. “About you. About us. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t ‘I’m your brother therefore I’m concerned about who you’re dating’, it-it was more of a ‘I wanna know all about your relationship so I can pick it apart’ interrogation type thing.”

Fitz sighed, “Darling, I’m sure he’s just trying to get to know you better. Maybe he’s out of practice. You know how field agents are. Especially specialists.”

“No, Leo. He’s wrong. He’s not who he used to be.” I sighed.

Fitz cupped my cheek. “Who was he before?”

I felt my heart crumble. “He was my brother before, Leo. He was just my brother, and now he’s some stupid heartless solider.”

                                                          ***

The brakes screeched as May slammed them. We had to fit six people in an SUV with five seats, which naturally ended with me sitting in Fitz’s lap. He opened the door and let me hop out before following suit, everyone but May piling out.

“Tire tracks forty meters back. I’ll check them against the site’s trucks, make sure we’re alone.” Grant spoke.

“Too much exposure here. I’m gonna find a place to park.” May looked around.

Fitz-Simmons unloaded their gear, and May pulled off. We looked around as animals chittered in the trees. Fitz pulled me from Grant’s side, holding my hand tightly. Jemma offered me a smile. Fitz must’ve mentioned Grant’s approach.

“I would love to see a capuchin in the wild. Maybe even a yellow-tailed woolly monkey. You know, um, Peru has thirty-two different species of monkey.” He spewed excitedly.

I loved to watch him geek out over technological things, but him geeking about monkeys was a whole new level. I personally didn’t like monkeys, because I was scared of them at a young age at zoos, but Fitz knew so much that it warmed my heart.

“Yeah, and over two hundred species of snakes! The shushupe has a fascinating ven-” She was forced to back up as Fitz pulled his suitcase from the rack attached to a van he bumped into. “Venom. It’s neurotoxic, proteolytic, and hemolytic!”

“Oh, that’s fascinating.” Fitz forced out, now nervous.

“Oh! No, I’d be much more worried about earthquakes, malaria-”

I cut her off with a hand to the back of Fitz’s neck to kill a pestering mosquito. She turned to us with a smile.

“Ah, there’s no vaccine for dengue fever.” She turned and gasped at the sight of the Peruvian ruins in front of us.

“Look at that.” I mumbled.

Before I had gotten into psychology, and eventually S.H.I.E.L.D., I had planned on becoming an archaeologist. My mother and father had bullied me out of it, but my love for it still held strong. Fitz-Simmons knew this, and watched with laughing smiles as I stared in awe.

“Come on, let’s get a picture!” Jemma pulled us onto the first step.

“No, no, guys-” I tried to get out of it, but Jemma posed on one side of me and Fitz trapped me on the other, grabbing my face and leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek as Jemma snapped a picture. I was smiling widely, but I couldn’t help it. I loved them both, and they knew it. Skye caught my eye from behind Coulson and grinned wide.

“Good morning, professor.” Coulson spoke to the archaeologist that came out of the ruins. “I’m Agent Coulson, with S.H.I.E.L.D.. I understand you’ve made an interesting discovery.”

The man sighed. “I-I’m not sure how to explain it. This temple dates back at least 500 years. It’s filled with pre-Incan artifacts. One of them is … impossible.” He gestured. “And looks like it might be dangerous.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here.” Coulson nodded with a smile as the man led us down.

It was just a stone opening with steps down to the temple floor, but I couldn’t stop staring, eyes darting from one spot to the next. I scanned the walls, fascinated by the engravings and pictures, ignoring the large cobwebs and imagining what this place was like in its prime.

“It’s there. Exactly as we found it.” He pointed at a silver and blue contraption stuck in the wall.

It reminded me vaguely of the tesseract.

“Who else knows about this?” Coulson rushed to it, eyes wide.

“Just the ministry. I believe they are the ones who contacted you.” The man explained.

Coulson asked the man to evacuate the site as Fitz-Simmons set up their equipment and drones. Skye and I stood in the middle of the room, staring at the walls.

“Leave the man alone.” Jemma scolded one of the drones that stood at the man’s face, smiling politely.

“Now. For your own safety.” Coulson ushered him away.

“There’s nothing about this anywhere. It’s amazing, I’ve searched every data stream. What have we got here, guys?” Skye got closer, putting a finger up to it.

“Whoa, car- uh, careful. I-I- no, wouldn’t do that.” Fitz stumbled over his words of warning.

Skye took his advice and took a step back.

“The object’s placement in fossiliferous rock formations suggests it’s been here for at least 1,500 years!” Jemma exclaimed.

For once, I understood what she was saying. “That predates this temple by a thousand years.” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Ah! Maybe it’s alien!”

“Yeah, but the shape and the craftsmanship- it’s almost German.” Fitz looked up from his tablet.

“Sir?” Coulson’s radio crackled to life; it was Grant.

“Go.”

“We have a situation.” He grunted.

“Lots of rebels in this area.” Skye noted.

“Not enough gunfire.” I shook my head.

“Keep working. Violet, stay here, be vigilant.” He spoke into the radio. “I’m on my way.” He walked out and Fitz-Simmons picked up their pace.

“Why’d he make you stay here?” Skye asked me.

I pulled out my handgun and checked the safety. “‘Cause I’m the only one out of us four cleared for combat.”

“Are you seeing this? It’s alive.” Fitz spoke up.

“I’m sorry, did he just say that it’s alive?” Skye looked at me.

I shrugged. “Alien tech is weird.”

“It has a functioning power source.” Fitz explained.

“Sleepy’s reading radionuclides, but they don’t match any known isotope.” Jemma shook her head.

“I get temporal matches, but even then, they seem to shift. Is that even possible?” Fitz pulled his eyebrows together.

“Depends on the shifting of the temporal radio stuff, so…” Skye tried.

Fitz-Simmons only stared.

“It’s totally weird, right?” Skye gave a nervous laugh. “I’m gonna go check on Coulson.” She tried to slink past me.

“No, you’re not.” I caught her wrist.

“We’ve got company.” Grant popped through the opening, his radio in hand. “National police.”

“What?” Fitz-Simmons exclaimed.

“Why are they here?” I looked at him.

“They heard about this object, they’re probably here to protect it. This area has a lot of rebel uprisings.” Grant put his radio away.

“Yeah, people are fighting back against the government’s mining policies. It’s pretty kick-ass.” Skye scoffed.

 “Yeah, it’s kick-ass, all the violence.” Grant rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Skye argued.

“No, it’s what you’re typing. In your van, alone- where it’s safe.” Grant was taking a personal hit.

“Grant.” I warned.

“How much longer?” He turned to Fitz-Simmons.

“What’s the hurry?” Jemma groaned.

“Are we in danger?” Fitz looked straight up at me. 

“Not if everyone does their job.” Grant pulled his sidearm. “What is yours, exactly?” He looked to Skye.

There was a faint explosion from outside, and then gunfire. Grant perked up, gun still in hand. I grabbed Skye and pulled her between me and the wall, guarding her from the opening. The temple rumbled, and dust fell onto us.

“Sounds like they’re engaging with the rebels.” Grant shot me a look.

“Time to go.” I looked at Fitz-Simmons and they immediately called the drones back to pack them up.

“They’re coming for it, let’s move!” Grant shouted.

Skye went to help them pack, but Jemma ushered her away as politely as she could. “We need a containment case for the 0-8-4!” Jemma shouted.

“There’s no time.” Grant grunted.

“But it has a fluctuating power core, frequencies way above 10 exahertz!” Fitz yelled.

Grant and I looked at each other. He shrugged.

“Jacket.” I held my hand out and he rolled his eyes.

You’re not serious.

I jerked my hand out again.

Give me the jacket, dumbass.

He sighed before pulling it off and shoving it into my grip. I ran to the object, using his leather jacket like a glove and gripping it. I gave it a tug, but to no avail.

“Violet-”

“Shut up, Grant!” I placed my foot up on the wall and tugged again, this time with my body weight.

It came out with a crackle of the wall and more dust as the temple rumbled again.

“Violet!” Fitz shouted, and Jemma said something else, but I didn’t hear her.

“Let’s go!” Grant shouted, taking the object and shoving it into a duffle bag.

“I’ll lead, you pick up the rear!” He shouted, pulling the strap over his shoulders and putting his gun back up.

“You did not just pull that out of the wall! What is wrong with you? Do you two realize we do not know the amount of photon emissions coming out of this-”

I put my hand on Fitz’s chest and pushed, raising my eyebrows.

“Okay.” He put his hands up and filed behind Jemma and Skye, who was close behind Grant. “We just don’t know what’ll happen if it gets excited!”

“Stay close.” Grant ignored him.

They ran out, and Fitz hit his knee on the way out, letting out a groan. I bit back a smile at his clumsiness, urging him forward with my gun ready. The sunlight was blinding, and the gunfire was loud. Grant began to fire, but they returned it faster than the two of us could go.

“Get back!” I shouted, yanking Fitz by the bag, pushing Jemma and Skye back into the temple opening with him.

Grant was on one knee, shooting. I ducked behind him, his body covering most of my torso as I swept my gun over his head and fired.

“Cover me!” He shouted and stopped firing.

I shot an approaching rebel in the shoulder as Grant pulled something out of the pocket at my thigh, trying to twist around without losing the cover to my body. He pulled the thunderstick out and swung it, letting it go to full length.

“Grant, now!” I shouted.

He rolled over the steps as I fired again, scrambling back into the opening. Six hands yanked me in as Grant hit the button, and two pulled me into their chest as the explosion went off, leveling the rebels to the ground. We waited two seconds, and then were back on our feet. Grant pulled the thunderstick out of the floor and waved to me, backing up so he could cover Skye and Fitz-Simmons as they ran.

“Grant, 10:00!” I shouted, pointing my gun.

The rebel fired faster, but was blocked by our SUV, driven by none other than May. She opened the door and Grant shouted for us to get in. Jemma yanked the cases from Fitz’s hand and threw them into the backseat, helping Skye in. Grant bent down so I could easily jump onto his back. He straightened and I took another shot at the rebel, this time taking him down. I fumbled back onto my feet, and Jemma yanked me in, letting Fitz pull me into his lap, as she slammed the door shut. Grant got in and May hit the gas before his door was even closed.

May drove wildly, the car bumping and jerking. Skye shut her eyes tightly, and Simmon was clutching Grant’s seat from behind. My forehead bumped against Fitz’s, but we kept our noises to ourselves. I saw Grant turn around, trying to see the truck behind us.

Where the fuck is he?

“Coulson’s secure in PMP’s truck.” I told him, sensing his distress.

He nodded, turning back to May. “Take the south route to the airfield.” He ordered.

“Gotcha.” She swerved the truck and my head went backward to the window. Fitz grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me tightly against him, my forehead stuck to his neck.

“Slow down!” He shouted.

“You’re joking, right?” Skye yelled back.

“Ward, listen! We have to be careful! There’s a binding energy structure that could overheat!” He was frantic.

“I could roll down a window!” Jemma tried to help.

Bullets hit the side of the window, metal on metal making an awful screech. I leaned over and rolled the window back up.

“Do not roll down a window!” Skye shouted.

“Stay quiet and keep your head down!” Grant turned around, ordering over his shoulder like an angry parent. “Head left. The ravine empties.” He spoke to May.

She turned wordlessly, leaving the four of us in the backseat to tumble into elbows and knees.

“But Ward!” Fitz cried.

“Quiet!” Both Grant and I scolded, turning to face him.

“How fast can you have the wheels up?” Grant asked, hitting a button on the dash to open the cargo hold of the bus.

“Fast.” May replied, tires screeching as she braked hard on the ramp.

We scrambled out of the car, May barking an order for us to close the ramp. Grant got there first, smashing the button. Fitz and Jemma ducked out of the way, but Skye stood there, astonished.

“What are you doing? Coulson is still out there!”

“Get off the ramp, you’re in the line of fire.” He shoved her my way and I only bounced her off to Fitz-Simmons, who grabbed her by the legs and pulled her down.

Grant and I stood at the edge of the ramp, firing as best we could at the rebels without hitting Coulson or the other men. It took a few seconds to get them all loaded in, and it was enough for a bullet to skip by Grant and graze my shoulder. I cursed, gritting my teeth before shooting down the man that had hit me. In my focus to hit him, I took another one to the leg and crashed to the ground with a scream.

“Violet!” Grant shouted, not looking at me and not turning, but becoming stiff and shooting even faster.

The military men loaded in, followed by Coulson, as the ramp began to close. Grant ceased fire and holstered his gun, taking mine and lifting me in his arms, running past a questioning Coulson and to the lab, where Fitz-Simmons followed, clearing off a table.

“I’m fine!” I fussed, trying to get Grant off of me. I said it again, this time hitting him in the chest before pointing to the black duffle bag on the floor by the doors. “Focus on the 0-8-4, I’ll be okay.” I clutched my shoulder.

“I can start patching her up.” Jemma gently pushed him aside, helping me pull Fitz’s green sweater off and cutting the leg of my jeans.

He sighed. “Fine. Fitz, what was the problem?”

Fitz only stared at me, concerned as his lips twitched and no words left his mouth, only a tiny gasp.

“Leo, I’m okay. What was the problem?” I tugged the free scraps of jeans off, exposing the wound that was bleeding and gross.

He snapped out of it, “As I said before, this device has a high-frequency, fluctuating, sub-material compression-”

“Fitz. In English.” Grant cut him off angrily.

Jemma quickly cleaned my arm and wrapped it. It didn’t hurt as much as my leg did.

“The 0-8-4 is fueled by tesseract technology.” He gestured. “Hydra. World War II. Captain America. It’s full of lethal amounts of gamma radiation.”

I let out a gasp as Jemma pulled the bullet out of my leg with forceps.

“Tesseract. S-s-so, you’re saying it’s worse than nuclear?” I grunted through my sentence, trying to focus on anything but the burning sensation in my thigh.

Fitz only nodded, and everyone took a step away from the bag. Grant came to my side, pulling my matted hair away from my forehead.

“You touched it.” He scolded, sitting behind me to hold my shoulders steady.

Please don’t make me lose you.

“With your jacket. I’m fine.” I wheezed, feeling light-headed.

I’ll be okay, you won’t lose me.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Ward.” Jemma’s voice was strained as she cleaned the wound again, and it felt like she was sticking a drill into my leg.

My chest tightened and I pushed back, my head thumping against Grant’s chest as he grabbed my shoulders, countering my force. “We’re the same blood type.” He yanked a sleeve up as soon as I stopped squirming.

“Can’t you guys get her anything for the pain?” Skye sounded so distant.

“She’s allergic to almost every damn painkiller on this godforsaken Earth.” Grant grunted and I could feel the vibrations in his chest.

“We could’ve just waited until I passed out.” I mumbled.

“Would’ve taken too long. Just a little pinch now, darling.” I heard Fitz and felt his hand over my arm, and then a needle being stuck inside.

I winced, trying to squirm once more, only to be stopped by Grant holding me down with one arm, the other connected to mine through a series of tubes.

“It hurts.” I whined, throwing my head back to hit Grant in the chest again.

He didn’t budge. “I know, Vi. I’m sorry.”

I whimpered again, forgetting that anyone else was in the room even though I could feel Simmon’s hands working on my leg.

“I know, ducky. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Shh shh shh. I know, I know.” He mumbled to me as pain took over in surges and I let my weight fall back against him, everything fading to black.

                                                            ***

“Yeah, well I use normal English, words like duck and run and might blow us to pieces.” I could hear Grant bitching.

“Oh! Oh, wow! Well congratulations, Agent Ward! You managed to string three words together in a sentence!” I heard Fitz snap at him.

They continued to argue, and I forced my eyes open, rolling my head to the left. Coulson’s army men friends were strung around our garage, packing their guns into a code-protected safe as Coulson spoke to a woman. I realized I was no longer in the clothes from this morning, but my pajamas. Fitz must’ve gotten them from our room.

“Can you guys shut up?” I asked, my voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Violet!” Skye perked up before anyone and came running, Jemma on her heels.

“Hey.” I smiled.

Jemma pulled out a pen and shone it in my eyes. I knew she was making sure I was okay, so I tried not to fuss. Skye sat at the edge of my bed.

“Why’s the bed in the lab?” I asked, turning to Jemma.

“Coulson wanted you in here, since there’s unknowns on the bus. Just in case.” She explained with a smile. “Your vitals seem good. We bandaged your leg, but you should wait at least a few days before putting weight on it. No major hits, it just skimmed your femoral artery.”

“Well, that’s reassuring. Are you two done now?” I leaned around her, looking at Fitz and Grant.

Fitz looked at me with a relieved smile, and Grant only looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

Well, you’re feeling better.

I rolled my eyes at him.

Shut up, dickhead.

They shuffled over, like two kids in trouble. Jemma moved aside and let Fitz stand at my side, kissing my forehead and hugging me tightly. I pushed my face into his chest and breathed deeply, hating to see him so worried.

“Hey. I’m okay.” I stroked his cheek as he pulled away.

He only nodded with a soft smile before stepping back to let Grant in. I smiled at him as wide as I could in my sleepy state. He instantly laughed, both amused and relieved. He rushed toward me, sitting on the side of the bed and letting me hug him at my own pace. My head fell onto his shoulder as his arms came around me, holding me against him as he breathed choppily. He hid his face in my hair, and I could feel him trying not to cry. I wrapped my arms around his torso and looked over his shoulder at Fitz, pointing to the door with a pleading look. He got the message, pulling Skye and Jemma out with him.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been covering you. You shouldn’t have gotten hit, especially not twice.” Grant’s chest heaved.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” I rubbed his back.

He only sighed, letting his breathing even out over the course of a few minutes, still clinging to each other. He finally pulled back, wiping at his tears with the sleeves of his shirt before sniffling and looking back at me.

“I’m sorry.” This one was different.

He wasn’t apologizing for me getting shot. He was apologizing for his change in behavior. For being aggressive. For being unlike himself.

I nodded. “Grant, what happened to you?” I reached for his hand.

He let me take it, looking away with eyes closed and his lips in a thin line.

“Jail changes people, Vi. You know that.”

I squeezed his hand and leaned his way, trying to get him to look me in the eye. My own eyes began to tear up, and they stung.

“I meant after. After you …” I stopped and swallowed. “After they told us you died-” My voice broke, and half the word fell away into the air. “What happened then?”

He looked down, and then up at me, eyes sad. “My SO left me to fend for myself in the woods for half a year. I was alone, Vi. And I was scared.” His eyebrows were angled up.

I know I’m not the same. I’m so sorry.

I looked away, nodding once more. “I’m sorry. I put too much pressure on you.” I pursed my lips and looked back to him.

I just want my brother back.

He squeezed my hand this time, and I looked up to see him nodding his head.

I’m trying my best. I’m right here.

“No. You’re doing good. You’re keeping me in line. It’s a good thing.” He reached for my face and wiped my cheeks.

“Thank you.”

I nodded again, leaning forward for another hug. “You guys can come back in now.” I called, and Skye and Fitz-Simmons stumbled in.

Skye came back to my side, replacing Grant as he went on to continue his conversation with Fitz. They began to argue again.

“I’m just trying to tell you what you’re dealing with!” Fitz screamed.

“And I don’t understand anything you’re saying!” Grant screamed back.

The sliding doors opened and Coulson walked in, eyebrows raised. “Do we have a problem in here?”

Grant backed down and Fitz went quiet, working on his night-night gun.

“No sir. Just working on our communication. Not everyone was prepared for a firefight.” Grant looked around.

“We got out, didn’t lose anyone, saved a few of theirs. I’d say we did alright. Violet, how’re you doing?” He looked over at me.

I flashed a smile and a thumbs up. “Doing great, sir.”

He nodded. “Good, I’m glad. Anything else?” He looked around.

Skye’s hand popped up. “Yeah, I have, uh, one small question. Because I’ve been feeling like the tagalong hayseed rookie, but now I get the sense that Ward doesn’t know which one’s Simmons and which one’s Fitz, and they’ve seen even less gunfire than me, and he somehow managed to let his sister get shot, and I’m no rocket scientist, but is this your first mission together?” She leaned forward.

“No. Of course not.” Jemma frowned. “It’s our second.”

“I was your first? That’s sweet.” She scrunched her nose up.

“You’re amused?” Grant snapped.

“I’m terrified. I am in way over my head, but I have been on this team just as long as any of you. I might as well be team captain.” She scoffed.

I noted Simmon’s perfected eye roll, along with the glance Fitz and Grant were sending each other. Coulson remained stoic.

“I was joking, but maybe that’s not a bad idea, because these guys do not like each other much.”

“This isn’t about that.” Grant turned to Coulson. “I’m a specialist. Today, I could’ve eliminated the enemy threat myself if I was working alone,” 

I felt myself sink back into the pillows. I thought we had worked great together, considering we never had before. Jemma noticed and came to the other side of the lab table, shaking her head.

“...but I had non-combat ready agents-”

“Whoa, whoa, wait! You work alone?” Fitz cut him off.

“So typical. Who do you think designs your equipment?” Jemma looked at him with a scowl.

“Or the polymers for your weaponry? People like us do that.” Fitz pointed between Jemma and himself.

“Try going into the field with just your bare bum.” Jemma finished.

“Guys.” I pushed myself out of the bed, ignoring the shock traveling up my leg and the looks I got from the three of them. I forced my arms to do most of the work, half-limping and half-dragging myself to stand in front of them at the head of the table. “Shut up, and stop fighting. Because now you’ve proven Skye right, and Coulson’s doubting every single one of us.”

“You’re not wrong. We still need to iron out the kinks. But Ward, you can speak six languages. Simmons, you have two PhDs in fields I can’t pronounce, and Fitz, you are a rocket scientist. Violet, you keep being the buffer. And work it out.” Coulson had a firm tone, like a father scolding his kids before leaving.

I let out a breath and let my legs give out as Grant caught me with an angry look. He picked me up and plopped me back on the bed, checking the bandages on my arm and leg.

“I-I’m good at stuff too!” Skye called after Coulson.

                                                             ***

I was lying with my head on the pillow in Grant’s lap, a book falling from my hands as he rested his against my head. Fitz-Simmons were in the conference room with the holotable, and they had gotten snippy with each other. Grant and I stayed out of their way, holing ourselves up in the lounge. I let my eyes slip closed. It didn’t matter if I fell asleep, Grant would probably just move me to my bed either way.

“Hunger Games?” I heard Skye. “Oh, is she sleeping? Sorry.”

“She’s a heavy sleeper, it’s fine. And no, it’s Matterhorn. One of a hundred novels my SO gave me that I’m just getting around to.” He sighed.

There was a pause.

“SO. Supervising Officer.” He explained, probably not looking up from his book.

“Got it. Hackers have lingo too, but I’ll pick yours up. I feel like you and me? Wrong foot. Can I buy you a drink?”

I felt him chuckle and set the book aside, pulling the pillow further onto his lap so he could sit up straight without pushing me off the couch.

“What I said before- When I said the uprising was- whatever I said- a good thing. I don’t want you to think I’m oblivious.” I heard the clink of a bottle. “What I was talking about was the tweets.”

“Tweets.” Grant repeated, his hand coming up to rub my shoulder.

He knew I was awake, and he wanted to make sure I was taking mental notes so we could dissect this later.

“You trying to make things better or worse?”

“Peruvians have organized for the first time in decades. Thousands of suffering people who have never met uniting over a common idea? It’s mind-blowing. And I don’t want to bring it up because I don’t wanna see your hate face, but … that’s what the Rising Tide is all about.”

“Okay.” He sounded slightly disgruntled.

“Usually, one person doesn’t have the solution. But a hundred people- with one percent of the solution? That’ll get it done.”

Grant took a deep breath.

“I think that’s beautiful. Pieces solving a puzzle.”

Grant sighed and scooted closer to her, holding my head with a hand to keep me steady. I heard him take a glass from her and swirl it.

“You and I see the world differently is all.”

“I’ve never been in a war zone during a war until today. That was crazy. I take it you’ve seen that a lot?”

Another sigh from him, this one deeper. He didn’t answer her question, only grunted as he put his drink down.

“Did you get shot?” She grabbed him.

“Skin deep. Nothing like Violet here. Nothing to worry about.” He took his arm back.

“You also got shot. Did that happen protecting us?” She pressed.

“Said don’t worry about it.” There was a gentle tone, and I imagined he was smiling.

She was talking about the bit of blood on his side, where he had gotten skimmed while lifting me to shoot one of the rebels out from the other side of the car. Jemma took care of it after she took care of me, and she said he’d only need a bandaid and he’d be fine. He hadn’t bothered to change his shirt.

“Well, no wonder you were so pissed.”

He hesitated. “I wasn’t pissed. I was trained to be the whole solution, to eliminate variables. And today, they keep adding up.” His tone changed, and his hand moved slowly to shake me.

I feigned sleepiness again, opening my eyes and rubbing them.

“Vi.” His eyes remained in one place.

I sat up slowly, and he pulled me into his side, bringing his mouth to whisper in my ear. His grip on my arm was firm.

“When I say so, take Skye and get to the lab. Guard Fitz-Simmons, and don’t let them get the 0-8-4. They’re PMP, but they’re lying to us.”

I pulled back and leaned against his shoulder, nodding slightly so he would feel it but the officers wouldn’t see it.

“Morning.” Skye smiled at me. “We’re turning.”

Grant nodded. “We’re entering restricted airspace, so we have to follow certain flight paths. Regulation. This plane is capable of fully automated flight, but May has to be on the stick herself tonight.” He slung his arm around me again.

“You’ve got an SO, May’s gotta be on the stick. Lots of good lingo on this plane.” Skye laughed.

“Yeah. We just can’t seem to understand each other.” Grant smiled his charming smile, the one he used to flash when he was in high school that made all my friends, in their middle school glory, fall for him.

Skye poured herself another drink and Grant looked down at me with an eyebrow arched. I watched him as he looked back to the officers. He set his jaw and gave me a squeeze, kissing the top of my head.

“Skye. Hand me the bottle.” He smiled again, then whispered into my hair. “Go, now.”

“Okay, turbo, but you’re still nursing the one you’ve got.” She laughed and I pushed myself to my feet.

“I’m not the only one.”

She looked at me and I shook my head, reaching for her hand. “Remember how we had to talk to Fitz about the fan in your bunk? We should probably go now, before he turns in for the night.” I smiled.

She caught on and gulped nervously. “Okay.”

Grant smiled as the officer came over, then pushed us out of the way and smashed the bottle onto the officer’s hand, who let out a scream. I grabbed Skye and pulled her behind me, trying to move as fast as I could without letting the stitches in my leg break. We rounded the corner and I pulled my weight over the side of the banister, letting myself slide down it rather than running down the stairs.

“Violet!” Skye called out from the bottom of the steps, pointing at one of the officers, who had Fitz with a scalpel to his neck.

“Get in here and sit down.” The man growled.

I grunted as my weight fell onto my leg and I put my hands up. Skye grabbed me by the elbows, helping me stand before dragging me into the lab. Jemma tried to help lower me to the floor, but it only seemed to piss the man off more and he moved the scalpel closer to Fitz’s neck.

“I’m fine, Jemma.” I shrugged her off, sliding onto the floor and clutching at my leg, below the line of stitches.

“Stop squirming, pretty boy.” The man growled as Fitz tried to pull his arms away.

I could hear his hard breathing and I felt my head throb.

“You know, if you want a valuable hostage, you might wanna take someone else.” I started.

“What?” He hissed.

“I mean, it’s your choice.” I shrugged. “He is pretty, you got that part right.”

“Shut up.” The man grunted.

“But really, he’s just the tech guy. He’s like, oh I dunno,” I shrugged again, “glorified IT. That’s what he is. He doesn’t know anything. Coulson can easily replace him.”

“Shut up!”

“Listen, bud, I’m just trying to help you out. You want leverage against Coulson and Ward? Switch me out for him.” I glared, breathing hard and grabbing the same spot of my leg.

The men stared for a second, contemplating. “Fine. Nice and easy. Nobody try anything or I’ll kill you all.” He eased his arms off Fitz, who ran into my open arms, squeezing me.

“You’re an idiot!” He shouted loudly.

“Loop the cameras.” I whispered into his ear before kissing his cheek and letting the officer put the scalpel up to my neck.

I groaned in pain as he made me put weight on my leg. The man forced me down on it as I whimpered. He laughed, then shoved me against the table.

“Where’s it hurt?”

“Where do you think, dumbass?” I growled through gritted teeth.

He hummed to himself, putting the scalpel down and bending down, moving his hand across my thigh to move my grip. He grunted in satisfaction once he found the blood soaked bandage. He cracked his knuckles before resettling his grip on my leg, ready to dig his fingers into my wound. The spot I had gripped was an inch below, where the worst he could do was make it throb more. He pressed a thumb against it and I yelled anyways, letting him believe it. I heard Skye gasp. He jammed his thumb in further, his head in the crook of my neck. He smelled vile and he was breathing oddly.

I took the moment of his distraction to elbow him in the crotch. He fell to the floor, still gripping my leg. I turned around and kicked his face, fingers finding the scalpel and ripping it over his face, breaking skin on his cheek and forehead. Skye screamed as blood splattered across my shirt. I stabbed him in the shoulder and kicked his head again, this time to knock him out.

“Fitz, lock the doors.” I ordered as I pulled back and pushed the man aside, my leg pulsing.

“Are you okay?” Jemma was worried, her forehead creased and her eyebrows furrowed.

I nodded. “Went a few inches down, don’t worry.”

“Hey!” There was a harsh knock on the lab door and Fitz yelped.

I looked out to see another man with a gun to Grant’s throat. I glanced over my shoulder, glad to see his fellow officer out of sight.

“Open the door or he gets blown to bits.”

I could see Grant breathing heavily. They had done a number on him, his eye already swelling. He looked at me, frustration on his face.

Don’t you dare open those doors.

I sighed.

I’m not just gonna sit here and let you get shot.

“Open the doors.” I mumbled, falling back to the ground.

I could see Grant talking frantically to the guard, who only seemed to get angrier by the second. The doors slid open and I could finally hear my brother’s voice.

“Please. I swear I won’t try anything. She just needs help walking, that’s all. She’ll put up a fight against you if you touch her. Please.”

“Fine.” The officer snorted, pushing him forward.

Grant ran to me, scooping me into his arms and pulling me up. “You’re okay.” He whispered, the lines on his forehead a tell of how worried he was.

I only nodded as they tied us each up, and then gave me my own separate black eye along with a broken nose and busted lip for having cut their friend up. I spit out blood as they left, trudging back up the stairs with their bleeding friend. My nose was throbbing, as was my leg and every other part of my body. I leaned my head against Grant’s shoulder, exhausted.

“This is all my fault. I should’ve learned Kung Fu.” Fitz tried to joke.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have pushed you into the field in the first place. You weren’t ready.” Jemma sighed.

“It was my job to make a proper threat assessment.” Grant tried to take the blame.

“Uh, we- we weren’t ready.” Fitz argued.

“This couldn’t have happened if Agent May wasn’t on the stick.” Skye jumped in. “She would’ve busted out with some of her ninja know-how.”

“Agent May? No, no, no. She transferred from administration.” Fitz argued again.

“Well, I’ve seen her destroy a guy, so…”

“Can we stop the pity party? We have to find a way out of here before they kill Coulson, take the 0-8-4, and then crash this plane where nobody will ever find our bodies.”

“Okay, wait but Agent May?” Fitz-Simmons pressed again, this time looking to Grant.

He smiled. “You’ve heard of the Calvary?”

“Yeah, everyone at the academy talks about st-... She’s the Calvary?” They exclaimed.

“I told you never to call me that.” May’s voice was scratchy.

“Oh, well we’re sure to get out of here now! Um, how do we get out of here?” Jemma asked her as she sat up.

“Can’t go through the doors. They’re bolted, tied to the pressurization lines. You two geniuses have nothing?” She looked at Fitz-Simmons.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to concentrate in these intense situations.” Fitz explained from beside me.

“Hey. Don’t freeze up. Take a breath. You don’t need to come up with the whole solution. Just part of it. Right?” Grant spoke calmly.

“Yeah.” Skye smiled. “Pieces solving a puzzle.”

                                                              ***

“Well that’s clearly the worst idea we’ve heard yet!” Jemma scoffed.

“Yeah!” Fitz agreed.

“Maybe, but it might work.” Skye shrugged.

“Guys, Reyes is gonna kill us once we land and blame it on rebels.” Grant insisted.

“At least this way we’ll have a fighting chance.” I offered.

“We’ll take it.” Grant spoke for the both of us.

“What’s first?” I asked Fitz.

“We can’t get upstairs without going in the lab.” Fitz answered.

“And the only way to release the lab doors is from upstairs.” Jemma added.

Skye rolled her eyes. “First thing is that we’re tied to the cargo door, so unless you guys can-”

She was cut off by a crack and I grimaced.

“What the hell was that?” Fitz jumped closer to me, worried, and I bumped my knee to his in reassurance.

“Her wrist.” Grant answered.

We watched as May snuck behind Lola, making her way up to the balcony in silence, where a guard stood watch with Grant’s sidearm. She was slow and quiet, inching her way across the bottom railing of the balcony on her fingers. The guard turned and stared straight at us before becoming confused by the lack of one of us. May swung up, her legs locking around his neck as she threw him over the balcony and he landed cold on the floor. She landed on her feet and popped her wrist back into place.

“What’s next?”

                                                          ***

“Okay, we’re sure, right?” Sky stood on Grant’s other side.

“Yeah, we’re sure.” He had his arm around my shoulders, keeping me balanced.

“We’re all on board.” Jemma’s voice was shaky.

“Yeah, let’s do this, fast.” Fitz was on my other side.

“Alright guys, let’s do it.” I was the last to speak, and probably the calmest besides my brother.

“No turning back, no freezing up.” He spoke.

“Because if we do, then…” Fitz trailed off.

“All of us die.” Grant finished.

“We know.” I patted his arm.

“Alright.” Grant nodded and gave me a look, to which I nodded.

You’re sure you’re okay to do this?

Positive.

He knelt so I could get on his back, like we were children at a fairgrounds and May revved the engine of the SUV. “You guys talk a lot.” She sat in the car and gunned it, barely giving Grant time to shove Fitz-Simmons and Skye out of the way. She crashed into the lab doors and I heard Fitz wince. Jemma climbed onto the table and started to unscrew part of the ceiling. Fitz got the drones out, firing them up as Skye and I raided the cabinets for cords. May snuck out, and Grant found other cords.

He handed me the link of chains and a few cords, and I got them together as fast as I could. He did the other two. Once he finished he grabbed Skye and Jemma. I tightened Fitz’s around his waist, pulling his tie over it so it wouldn’t get caught.

“Are you sure this’ll work?” He asked me, worried.

I nodded. “I’m sure.” I pushed him over to Jemma’s side.

Grant turned me around to hook my cord on, tightening it a bit more than was necessary. He scanned my face and I only nodded. This would work. It had to work. Grant and I worked fast, hooking the cords together and praying they would hold. Fitz held the tablet tight in his hands, with a view of what the drone was seeing. Coulson’s voice came over.

“It’s gonna be blue skies from here on out.”

“Simmons, forget what I said before. This is the moment we’re gonna regret.” Fitz took a deep breath before hitting the button.

The drone would activate the 0-8-4, which would hopefully blow the plane open and give us a shot. The panel beside Grant turned from red to green.

“It worked!” Skye shouted.

“The drop in cabin pressure released the doors!” Jemma smiled.

“I’ll take care of the soldiers, you guys get to the 0-8-4.”

“And Coulson?” Fitz asked.

“Let’s hope he can handle himself. Be careful.” He grabbed my shoulder before pushing the door open, leading the way.

There were gunshots, and Grant was shoving us to the floor, crawling toward the couch. He jumped over, taking on two soldiers, getting one out of the way before trapping the other against the couch and kneeling over him.

“Go, now! Find the 0-8-4!” He yelled at us and Skye started to move, forcing the rest of us to follow with her.

I watched as another soldier took on Grant, leaping onto him and taking him down. Things became quiet and I thought for a second that my ears were bleeding. Fitz pushed himself to his hands and knees behind me, saying something that I couldn’t hear. I sighed before pulling him by the cord and yanking Jemma back. I tied theirs together and ripped my own off.

“Violet, what are you doing?” Fitz screamed, but I was already moving over the couch, kicking one soldier in the face with my sock covered feet as another tried to drag me onto the floor. I felt the plane jerk downward and the man fell away. I grabbed at one seatbelt, pushing against the couch to give the other to Grant, who gripped it before kicking another soldier away. Another managed to grab my leg, his finger in the bullet wound on my thigh. I screamed, trying to get him off by kicking at his shoulders.

“Fitz! We got it! Reel us back in!” Skye shouted as Jemma pried the 0-8-4 from the wall.

I watched in practically slow motion as she unbuckled herself. Grant’s hand slipped from the seat belt and he cursed, fumbling to get a grip on anything he could. I tore my eyes from Skye and kicked a leg out, despite my entire body screaming in pain. Grant grabbed a hold of my ankle, grimacing when he heard my involuntary yelp. The soldier finally let go, his fingers dragging down my leg.

The plane slowly came back up, and both Grant and I dropped on the floor. The man that had been gripping my leg started to hit him, punching him in the ribs. One of the first men Grant had taken care of was now back on his hands and knees, crawling toward me with a shard of glass. I scrambled away, only to see another soldier cornering Fitz-Simmons. I jumped over the couch to help them.

“Cut him loose!” I shouted.

Fitz hit at his buckle until the man went flying, and I secured one hand on Jemma’s cord, the other catching Fitz as he fell.

“Sorry Ward!” Jemma shouted as the man fell onto him, pulling him toward the opening.

“Grant!” I screamed as he caught hold of a railing, trying to pull the man back inside.

His sleeve slipped from my brother’s hand, and as he looked down at it somberly, his grip came off the pole and he flew toward the gaping hole in the plane.

“Grant!” I shrieked, relieved to see, once again in slow motion, one of the liferafts coming to cover up the hole, Grant falling into the center of it with a heavy breath.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the searing pain in my leg as I ran to him, collapsing next to him with a sob. He practically pulled me into his lap, throwing his head backward and rubbing my arm. He jerked forward, and I looked over to see one of the soldiers crawling toward a gun. Coulson stepped in front of us and trapped the man’s hand under his foot. I felt my brother relax once more before pushing me off and grunting as he got to his feet. He bent over to pick me up, again onto his back. I watched as Skye sighed from the floor and Fitz-Simmons popped up from behind the counter.

“I read the safety pamphlet.” Skye came over to us.

“I think you might be the first.” Grant scoffed, slowly walking over to meet Coulson by the bar.

Everyone crowded around it, with the exception of Fitz, who was clinging to one of the columns with his eyes glazed over.

“No other way in, huh? I was just starting to warm up to this place.” Coulson sighed, picking up a broken glass off the floor.

Skye leaned over and placed a coaster under it before taking a seat.

“The 0-8-4 is cooling and stable.” Fitz was now calmer, one arm around the column and the other on his hip. “But we should call HQ and get it to the Slingshot as soon as possible.” He hugged the column again.

Jemma took a seat as Coulson walked over to Reyes, who was tied up to a pole. “Told you they were good.” He was proud.

“Why don’t you go hug your boyfriend? He looks a little scared.” Grant whispered over his shoulder, easing me onto the ground.

I laughed, pushing at his back with the little strength I had left before limping over to Fitz, who upon seeing my state, let go of the column and threw his arms around my middle without hesitation. I relaxed in his grip, sliding my arms around his shoulders and letting him hold my weight.

“I love you.” His voice was hushed.

I let out a laugh, tightening my arms around him, happy he was okay. “I love you too, angel face.”

                                                           ***

When we got to the Slingshot, the first thing that happened was Jemma insisting on stitching my leg back up after cleaning it, much to my refusal. Then, we took showers, and then, technical crew started to take care of our bus. Somewhere along the way, Grant and I had demanded coffee and Fitz-Simmons had begged for tea.

I watched as Coulson cleaned a smudge off of Lola, turning and talking to Skye.

“Looks like Skye might end up as more than a consultant, despite our reservations.” Grant was busy repacking weapons into their cases, letting me put my weight against his side.

May only nodded.

“She could turn into a solid asset. With some serious work.”

“Well, if she wants to be a field agent, she’ll need a supervising officer. Someone disciplined. Someone good.” She looked at Grant, who was only nodding.

I giggled, looking up at him. He caught May’s stare and made a face.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

I laughed this time.

“Just to be clear, you were talking about me. Right?” He asked, but she didn’t give him an answer.

“I was thinking, maybe even a pair. Two people who could… tag team?” She raised an eyebrow.

Grant and I looked at each other with identical grins on our faces.

“We blew up a plane!” I could hear Fitz coming down the stairs.

“I had a new experience, that’s for sure.” Jemma sounded content, as always.

“Eat that, Professor Vaughn.”

“You had a new experience, but it was new for all of us!” She had a beer in her hand, and Fitz had a cooler.

“They’re happy.” May noted and I smiled.

“Hey, come on, you guys don’t wanna miss this.” Fitz stopped and handed me his beer so he could help me up.

I hopped onto my toes to kiss his cheek before letting him lead us to the edge of the ramp, sitting down and passing beers around. Fitz pulled me to sit between his legs and I settled happily against him, glad to have his arms around my middle gripping me like a lifeline. Our legs dangled off the edge.

“So it’ll take about a hundred and eighty days to reach the sun. Now yes, of course, it would’ve been faster if they’d used hydrogen-fueled APUs, but they’re having fun.” Fitz explained as Grant sat next to us, taking a beer.

“How many of those have you guys had?” Skye asked with a laugh.

“Skye.” Jemma chuckled and May sat next to her. “It’s important when in the field to unwind from time to time.”

“Yeah, yeah, especially after a hard day of everyone almost dying.” Fitz continued.

“Which doesn’t happen every day, right? It’s an anomaly, an irregularity! Not … the norm.” Jemma exclaimed.

Coulson stood at the edge instead of sitting. “Speaking of not the norm, who’s idea was it to blow a hole in this plane?”

We all went white, looking down. Fitz gripped me tighter, now afraid of Coulson’s anger. Skye hadn’t sat down, so when she spoke it came from behind.

“May said that the doors were tied to the pressurization, so I thought-”

“So we thought it would be the only way to release them.” I cut her off.

“It was everyone’s idea, sir.” Grant jumped in.

“Yes, quite genius, really.” Fitz perked up.

“Nice work.” Coulson broke a smile and we all relaxed again.

Even May smiled and I leaned back against Fitz with a smile, laughing when Grant made a disgusted face at us.

“All clear for liftoff.” A voice came over the speakers.

“Oh, time for blastoff.” Fitz pinched his nose. “Launching in three, two…” He trailed off, watching as the rocket went up, leaving a gray trail.

“The trajectory will take it beyond the lagrange point so that it doesn’t hit Herschel.” He leaned over to explain to Grant.

“Yeah, and there haven’t been any coronal mass ejections, so it shouldn’t lose telemetry.” Jemma giggled.

“Guys, English.” Grant sighed happily.

There was no response as we watched it go up through the clouds. Grant patted Fitz’s back. He flinched and I laughed, looking from my brother to my boyfriend and then back up to the rocket, which was now out of sight. I curled up in Fitz’s lap, letting my forehead fall against his neck as I closed my eyes. Coulson excused himself, presumably to go get chewed out by Fury. Skye still hadn’t sat down. May and Grant slowly finished their beers, and then excused themselves to finish packing up weapons. Jemma soon followed, taking the cooler too. I caught Fitz giving her a look as I twisted around to have my side against his chest.

“Why are you making everyone leave?” I looked up at him.

He only smiled.

“Leo. Come on.” I pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Just want you and the sunset, nothing else.” He muttered, kissing my forehead.

I smiled. “Hey. I’m glad you’re still alive.”

He looked down at me, a wide smile growing on his baby face. “I’m glad I’m alive too. And to be completely clear, I’m overjoyed that you’re still alive.” His hand came to my face, thumb stroking my cheek.

I kissed the palm of his hand. “I think Grant sorta likes you.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been doing nerd-speak since we finished the fight, and he hasn’t wanted to murder you yet.”

“And how exactly do you know that?” He grinned.

“I can read his facial expressions.” I smiled.

He pulled me in to peck my lips. “That’s amazing, darlin’. I’m really glad for you. I guess you getting shot snapped him back to reality?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, glad to see I wasn’t the only one.”

“What do you mean?” I leaned into his arms, tilting my head.

“Nothing special.” He shrugged. “Just realized how much I love you is all.”

I smiled wider this time, sitting up and grabbing him by the neck. “God, I love you. Why do I love you so much?” I peppered his face in kisses, feeling him chuckle.

“What can I say, I’m a romantic.” He shrugged once I pulled back.

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a smile, letting him pull me forward to meet my lips once more.

#leopold fitz #leopold fitz x reader #grant ward x reader #grant ward x oc #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing #micwrites

[atamascolily]

Lily reads Star Wars: Red Harvest, part six

In which EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE (and no, I do not exaggerate). Eat your heart out--oh, wait, sorry, eat someone else’s heart out. My bad.

(If you’re just joining me, check out the “Red Harvest” tag on my blog for previous posts)

We left off with Darth Scabrous waiting for Zo in the library. There's the obligatory villain monologue with some much-needed backstory.

“This library,” he said, “is the oldest part of the academy, older even than the tower itself. It was constructed over a thousand years ago by a Sith Lord named Darth Drear. He founded the academy, back when the planet itself was young. The ancient writings tell about how he used his first students as laborers. For hundreds of years, the Masters at the academy believed that a good many of those students died down in these very chambers, using the Force to move hundreds of tons of snow and ice and dig out these corridors and chambers to house Drear’s vast collection of … specimens. It was thought that Drear worked the students until they died from exhaustion.”

Blah blah blah Sith holocron blah blah blah eternal life. The usual stuff.

“Before he died, Darth Drear wrote of the final stage of the process—the step that he himself was never able to achieve. He dispatched his sentries to a nearby planet to abduct a Jedi and bring him to the secret temple underneath the library. After ingesting the elixir, in the final hours before his body gave in completely, under exactly the right circumstances and conditions, Drear planned to use a ceremonial Sith sword to cut open the Jedi’s chest while he was still alive, and eat his heart. Only then, with that final infusion of midi-cholorians still warm from the Jedi’s blood, would the decay process be held back—granting the Sith Lord his ultimate immortality.”

I TOLD YOU THEY WENT THERE.

The plant!zombies show up again - turns out they weren't really dead! They carry Zo down to the Secret Sith Basement at Scabrous's command, where the sacrifice is to take place. But don’t worry, not!Qui-gon is in hot pursuit! The tree librarian grabs not!Qui-Gon and dangles him in the air. I am LIVING for this. “No need for your weapon here,” the voice said. “Not in this place of learning. We are both learned beings, are we not? Enlightened and informed by the written word. No need for the encumbrances of physical violence.” It uttered another bulky, dusty chuckle. “Look upon me, if you like. Seek my face.”

There's a bunch of book avalanches. not!Qui-Gon  goes into the tree!Librarian's head at his own urging and sees his memories

It was the librarian’s name, Trace realized, his patronymic, and somehow he knew that on his home planet it meant “lover of knowledge,” a perfect choice for—

HOW DID HE END UP ON A SITH PLANET AS THE SITH LIBRARIAN IF HE WASN'T ACTUALLY EVIL?? Sadly, we don't get answers.

Also, more relevant to the plot, not!Qui-Gon sees the secret Sith basement being built and gets caught up on all the backstory that Scabrous already revealed. Then everything catches on fire and not!Qui-Gon uses the Force to retrieve his lightsaber and create an air bubble to ward off the flames.

He looked at the lightsaber, laboring to evacuate every other thought from his mind. At the Jedi Temple, they had taught that it was never a matter of manipulating the object, but of eliminating the space that separated you from it. Yet at this moment, the object in question had never felt so far away....

The timing of what happened next was critical. Deactivating the bubble, he opened his hand, and the lightsaber flew into it. Its handle was almost too hot to hold, but the solidity of it had never felt better in his life.

I like this attention to detail in my Star Wars.

Not!Qui-gon gets pulled down to the basement via plant zombies for the final showdown as the library burns around him.Good-bye, Tree Librarian -- you may have been evil at the end, or perhaps this whole time, but you were fucking rad.

The mechanic is still alive and in hiding. He gets lured out by Kindra's pleading, only to reveal it was a trap by the zombies and she's a prisoner. The zombies rip her to pieces but the mechanic gets away. I’m so mad because even though I knew it was a trap, and I knew she was going to die, I hoped she got a more badass ending. Sigh.

Meanwhile, the bounty hunter and the newly liberated HK droid discover the zombies are hiding INSIDE the Tauntauns, a la Aliens and it's gross, and now we have zombie tauntauns, too. Turns out the HK droid hates the Sith too! But the bounty hunter got sprayed with tauntaun spit so now he's infected. Good thing droids can't get this... right?

Scabrous tries to kill Zo but not!Qui-gon makes a dramatic entrance and stops him. Not!Qui-gon gets murdered while Zo watches in horror and... I guess he really has more in common with Qui-Gon than I initially thought!

Scabrous transforms into his final form, but the orchid wakes up just in time, and Zo tells it to grow while she starts going to town on the Scabrous and slaughters him with his own sword. It doesn't take, so she switches to her brother's lightsaber, which does better, since it actually cauterizes.

She climbs out of the pit after Scabrous is dead, only to find the rest of the zombie horde waiting for her. The bounty hunter and droid rescue her, but they're attacked by the academy's perimeter cannons, so everthing gets worse fast. The droid jumps out and turns to the lasers on the tower, destroying everything - including the orchid if it's still alive? I'm a little fuzzy on the details here. Fortunately, the mechanic is flying the plane and he's okay.

Zo goes into the trophy room, only to find that the bounty hunter is now a zombie, but he locks himself in a cage before he turns and tells Zo to send him out the airlock, which she does--along with the entire grisly contents of the room, and a last zombie stowaway. FINAL GIRL VICTORY.

Zo returns to Jedi Greenhouse Planet, traumatized but alive. Turns out the guy who we thought was dead in the bounty hunter attack at the beginning of the book is actually alive, so that's good. There's a new orchid waiting for her:

You were with my seed-brother, the orchid said, arching toward her. Is that true?

Yes, I was, she told it, and thought about the voice of the first orchid, the one that she still heard in her mind. I still am, in a way. He saved my life.

Really?

Bennis smiled again, the indulgent smile of a proud parent, and gave the orchid a small pat.

D'awwww. Wait, so the original orchid isn’t really dead? She can still hear him even though it’s gone and they’re separated? Did I miss something in the tumult of the finale?? Or is Zo being metaphorical here?

Also, I’m so curious how the Jedi just... got another orchid so quickly. In our world, orchids can be clonally propagated in HUGE batches, so the AgriCorps could potentially be churning these things out at a massive rate. This raises WAY more world-building questions that this book is NOT going to answer, and it frustrates me, but I doubt the author knows much about actual orchids, so... *shrugs*

But cuteness aside, Zo decides she'd rather study on the Jedi Temple at Coruscant (the mechanic will take her) because she has too much PTSD. Also, this means that if anybody else tries to kidnap the new orchid, they won’t get Zo! I don’t know why the Jedi are even raising these orchids, given that they’re in demand on the Sith black market. Didn’t Zo explain they were the critical ingredient for an awful zombie plague?? DID NOBODY LEARN FROM THIS EXPERIENCE??

This is supposed to be a happy/hopeful ending, and it kinda is, but Zo apparently doesn’t know / the author forgot that the Jedi Temple was destroyed when Corsucant got sacked eight years earlier (as Trace tells us in his introductory scene)... which means she's walking into ANOTHER haunted temple nightmare and doesn't realize it yet. We'll call it.. Red Harvest II: Coruscant Nights, or maybe just Blue Harvest. How about that??

Frode would be waiting for her with the ship, ready to take her back to Coruscant, and whatever might be waiting for her there. The mechanic would be good traveling company, she sensed—there was a low-key air about him that bespoke dozens of untold stories, events that had made up his life and taken him to the unlikely destination of Odacer-Faustin. She felt herself already beginning to trust him.

Wow, I was not expecting this dude to survive, but okay. Also, he got tagged in the beginning as kinda greedy (scuttling the engines of the other bounty hunters to sell) and kinda lazy/stupid/opportunistic/desperate (for ending up as the mechanic for Sith Hogwarts in the first place). But okay, whatever, I guess.

And the moral:

The future was scary, but you couldn’t avoid it, anymore than you could outrun the past.

OR  A MASSIVE ZOMBIE HORDE, AM I RIGHT??

Wow, that was a trip.

I feel like this was better than I had any right to expect from the premise, but still felt like a B-grade horror movie. I like the tantalizing hints of what world-building we do get, and I think this novel is excellent fodder for future horror/Halloween fics. Otherwise, I’d skip this unless you are a “must read everything in Legends” purist, enjoy Sith shit, enjoy watching Sith die in horrific ways, and/or a diehard plant nerd like me.

RANDOM TRIVIA: Wookiepeedia says the first draft had a character named  "Middish Sunblade, modeled after Holden Caulfield, but Sunblade was removed from the rewrite because he was whiny and nobody could stand him," which is just too true and too funny for words. Also, an actually-in-character Holden Caulfield expy would last approximately 30 seconds at Sith Hogwarts before being stabbed... I’m just saying.

#star wars #red harvest #space orchids #space botany #lily liveblogs

[djinmer4]

Scarborough Fair (Noir AU)

“Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?” Stefan made no effort to keep his voice down, but the noise of the party easily drowned him out.

“I don’t understand your question,” Jimaine carefully brushed a few straggling hairs back into her coiffure.  “My fiancee is handsome, charming, polite and generous.  Plus, Kurt’s our foster brother, we’ve known him for years.  What more could I want?”

“I guess if you’re happy, that’s enough.”  Jimaine held out her arm, but her brother waved her away.  “Go and wow your fiance.  This party’s for you after all.”

She flashed a quick smile and strode into the festivities.  Kurt’s grin dutifully widened at her entrance, and he offered his arm to squire her around.  Stefan remained in the shadows, offering brief smiles and nods at any guests who noticed him but refraining from participating.

As he observed, he found himself being less and less happy about the upcoming nuptials.  On the surface, it was a fairytale marriage, with Jimaine as the golden bride and Kurt as the handsome groom.  And yet . . .

It wasn’t that Kurt was ignoring Jimaine.  He had greeted her effusively when she had entered, catered to her every voiced desire, remained well within view during the whole party.  But Stefan noticed, aside from the first moment, he never really looked at Jimaine.  He answered when she called for him, but he never initiated a conversation with her.  And while in view, he was almost never in arms reach of her.  If his sister wanted something, she had to walk over to him, never the other way around.

“Don’t you want a husband who will actually see you rather than take you for granted?” he whispered to himself.

~~~~~~~

He crouched on a hillside, burying himself in the low shrub.  It was nothing like Bavaria or Winzeldorf or Schwarzwald or any other place he’d ever been hunting.  There were no trees, what little cover existed came from the shadows of hills and rocks and low scrub.  But that meant the same thing for his opponents.  On the battlefield, it was only a question of whose eyes were sharper, whose reflexes were faster.  And so far, he’d been better than all his challengers.

Through the scope, he watched a sparrow land and peck at the frozen soil.  He followed it into the brush, searching for the telltale glint of metal.  He snuggled deeper into the camouflage blanket, letting it obscure the shadow of his body and hold back the biting cold.  He’s the only one on watch this hour, the rest of the squad in exhausted, fitful slumber will eventually end at an officer’s command or the whistle of incoming bombs with the dawn.

Not seeing any threats, he takes a few minutes to pull out his holdout.  He cleans the pistol but refrains from polishing it.  Too many fellow soldiers have lost their lives from either lack of maintenance or from bright flashes of metal in the dark.  An explosion of red breaks the early morning gloom and the silence and he abandons his post, shouting directions to the other waking soldiers.  More explosions wrack the night and they retreat through the trenches, the sand and mud and worse sucking the warmth from their legs with every step.  A man ahead of him stumbles and falls, and he grabs him by the leather harness on his back.  When a break occurs in the artillery fire, he realizes that the man he was dragging was already dead.

~~~~~~~

It’s ridiculously easy to gain access to the cabaret.  Despite being frequented by Weimar officials, it’s not one of the higher quality ones.  The bouncer doesn’t bother to even ask for ID, nodding him through with barely a glance at the crow’s-feet around his eyes and his thinning hair.  He drops his trench coat at the unmanned coat check but keeps his scarf and hat.  Inside, no one even glances as he takes a seat at the corner of the bar.  Two drinks later, and he leaves his seat for the bathroom.

It’s the work of moments to flip his suit jacket inside out, the white lining hastily limned in black thread to imitate the waiters’ uniforms.  His accessories go under the jacket and the blue mask goes his face, hiding the gas scars.  Again, he’s thankful for the target’s poor choice of venue.  The masks are as gimmicky as they come but all the servers are wearing similar ones and with the dim lighting it could be anyone under the fantastical facade.

It’s another hour before the target shows up and Kurt’s reminded why he hates jobs like these.  The music isn’t bad and he’s spent longer on his feet assisting senior surgeons, but suppressing the urge to beat all the rude fools to death is always a chore.  But finally, the officer comes in with about half a dozen friends, including a few working girls.  The loose way they hang over each other could be an issue, but he’s brought enough strychnine for all.

One of the longer, and frankly more interesting acts comes on stage and he makes his move.  About five minutes in, he goes around the table, refilling drinks and dropping quick dissolve capsules in the champagne.  The officer and his friends are too riveted to consume their drinks, and he drops off their meals just as the lights come back on.  Another fifteen minutes of serving, he slips back into the bathroom changing back into his suit.  A couple more drinks at the bar, and then he leaves, just as the first member of the party collapsed.

~~~~~~~

“Jimaine, grab his things.”  Stefan lifted the shorter man by the collar of his shirt and threw him out of the wagon.  “We’ve reached Winzeldorf, as promised.  Don’t let me catch you hanging around here again.”

Kurt brushed himself off, then caught the untidy parcels his foster sister tossed him.  “I’ll pray that God will soften your heart and you will repent this, brother.”

“Pray for yourself, murderer!”  With that, he turned and ordered the caravan back on the road.  Behind them, Kurt slipped on his boots and jacket, gathered his possessions and slipped off into the night.

~~~~~~~

“There’s been extensive degloving across the entire back.”  Dr. Wagner let the orderly clear a path through the busy hallways only pausing when they reached the entrance of the theatre.

“Is there any intact skin?”  He stripped off the scarf he was wearing and the broader man flinched and averted his eyes.

“I-I don’t think so.  The only place that wasn’t shredded was the front of his torso and using skin from there would be like robbing Peter to pay Paul.”  The orderly shot the surgeon a confused look as he reached into a wardrobe in his office.  “Is that a butcher’s apron?”

“I can never seem to remember to change my clothes before going home.  I thought maybe trying to protect my clothes during surgery might at least make me look less suspicious.”  The older man quickly tied the apron strings behind him.  “Hmm, there doesn’t seem to be much to work with.  What about the limbs?”

“Dr. Connors isn’t too optimistic about the results.  He said there’s going to be at least one amputation, maybe multiple ones, although he’s holding off until you’ve patched the torso.”

“In that case, I’ll take the skin from the limbs and try to patch over the torso with that.”

“Uh, are you sure that’s wise, doctor?”

He reached back into the ward to pull out the black leather bag containing his personal equipment.  “The man’s as good as dead anyway, so this is the perfect time to experiment.  If he lives, all well and good, if he dies, that’s what everyone was expecting anyway.  Really, there’s nothing to lose in this case.”  He replaced his scarf with a new surgical mask and also put on a new pair of thin rubber gloves.  “Now go start the carbolic spray.”

~~~~~~~

“Do you ever think about leaving the city?”

Kitty had spent the past 2 hours staring at her typewriter and welcomed the interruption.  “Leaving New York?  Sometimes, I think it would be nice to live in Boston or DC for a change but I’m pretty happy here.  Definitely not going back to Chicago though.  Too close to my parents.”

“Not what I meant.  I mean something like going out to New Jersey.  Or Ridgewood or Greenville.”

Her lips twisted down.  “Ugh, no!  I hate the idea of living in the countryside, I’d be so bored.  Why do you ask?”

He shrugged and then waved a hand in the air, dismissing the subject.  “I’ve been a little homesick.  Missing the woods of Winzeldorf.”

Kitty lay her hands on the keys, but didn’t apply any pressure to them.  “I’m telling you right now, if you’re planning that we get married and move out to some pastoral green acres, I’m giving back the ring immediately.”

His laugh turned into a snort turned into a brief coughing fit.  Once he got his breath back (after Kitty fetched him a drink of water) he demurred.  “Not right now, certainly!  If nothing else, I’d make less moving out of New York.  But maybe in a couple of decades, after I retire, would you consider it?”

The frown melted off her face and was replaced by contemplation.  “I’ve got to admit, it still doesn’t sound good to me but who knows how I’ll feel in twenty years.  Ask me then.”

~~~~~~~~

“There’s another one gone.  That’s the third one this year.” Dr. Connors was back from probation (or maybe more accurately stated, he was back on probation).

“Who’s gone?”

“Another one of the nurses.  Bertha, I think her name was.  They all swear they’re single when they first start, but six months later they’ve gotten engaged to some patient and they’re gone.”

Dr. Wagner looked up from the desk where he was writing case notes.  “That’s no good.  We can’t stop them from falling in love, but we’re short-handed.  Can’t they at least have the decency to tell us when they’re getting engaged so that we have a few months' notice to hire a replacement and train her?”

“Even if the girls are too silly to think of that, you’d think the patients would.  But it’s out the door and straight to the chapel.”  Connors took a sip of his coffee and grimaced.  “Still, it gives men like you a much-needed advantage.”

Blue eyes narrowed above his mask.  “What does that mean?”

“Well, I suppose the fact most of your patients are under ether makes it difficult for you to impress them.  Still, I’m sure that a few of the lady patients have thought even you to be as hotsy-totsy as Valentino.  Or maybe you’ve had a few shebas in the linen closet?  Either way, it’d be a sockdollanger for you.”

Kurt took several minutes to untangle the slang that Connors was using.  Once he did, he straightened up like a poker had been rammed up his backside.  “I’m married, thank you very much.”

The other man simply grinned at him.  “Is she from Canada?”

The German refused to dignify that with an answer, instead just dumping the remaining paperwork on the other doctor’s desk and walking out.

~~~~~~~

“Dad sent you over a Christmas gift.”

Kurt looked up from the journal he was reading.  “Your parents don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Yeah, I know.  But I think they’ve finally resigned themselves that I’m not going to move back to Chicago and marry a nice Jewish doctor the way they want me to, so they’re at least acknowledging your existence now.”

“Does it help at all that at least I am a doctor?  Even if I’m not very nice. ”  He carefully unwrapped the fire-engine red wrapping paid and set it aside.  Inside the matte velvet box was a pocket watch with the Star of David emblazoned on it. “What’s this?”

“It’s the bare minimum.  I think they’re lying to their friends, telling them the reason I’m not coming back is that I really did marry a nice Jewish boy from Queens.  If they really accepted you, Mom probably would have pushed that we do another wedding ceremony in Chicago.  I suppose I should just be grateful she didn’t sit shiva for me.”  Kitty slid down the side of the armchair to curl into his side.  “That’s a Pryde family heirloom.  It’s been passed down from father to son for about five generations now, but well . . . Dad always said he’d give it to the guy I’d marry.  So there’s that.”

He set the journal on the coffee table and pulled her into his lap.  “I suppose it would be rather difficult for you to run away now.  No one’s going to believe you if you say I’m a bigamist or cheating on you.”  He slid his hand around her side, down over her ribs.  “And I’m definitely not impotent.”  

She giggled at the tickling sensation.  “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in exchanging you for a new model, even if your hair is vanishing faster than a dewdropper’s scratch on a bangtail.”

A brief pause.  “I have no idea what you just said.”

She chortled again, leaning up to kiss the crow’s-feet around his eyes.  “It’s not important.  Just be glad at least one of my parents has accepted our marriage.  Albeit dragging his feet all the way.”

He thumbed the lid of the pocket watch, tracing the Star with his nail.  “Still, it takes a lot of bravery to step out of your comfort zone and let your daughter make her own decisions on these things.  Such courage should be rewarded.  Do you think he would take it amiss if I returned the gesture?”

She squirmed around until she was lying crosswise in his lap, the cold point of her nose touching bare skin just above the collar of his shirt.  “I think that would be a bad idea.  He’s gone out of his way to follow your culture this time, now it’s your turn to show that you respect his traditions.”

Kurt sighed, the sound slightly muffled by the mask.  “I can’t exactly go back in time and ask his permission to marry you again.  And Hannukah’s already passed . . .”

He felt more than saw her shrug.  “Dunno.  But Dad always did want a boy . . . “

“Well, I’ve never had a father.  Maybe we can bond over that.”

#noir au #dr wagner