#only to ask fitz 'what happens to the rest of us'

[thenightisland]

thinking about the fairy tale trope of a kiss from your true love having magical properties and how often these kisses are used to wake up characters who are asleep or in some state of suspended animation or give them back something they lost. thinking about fitz walking around half-forged and detached from his own emotions until the fool kisses him and gives him back all of those memories and emotions effectively “waking him up” again and giving him back something he'd lost. and by thinking i of course mean i am screaming incoherently.

#robin hobb #rote #karen liveblogs books #could talk all day about hobb and the fairy tale references #like the whole knight on a white horse thing happening in FE #nettle's dream where she's the girl in a high tower #thick quoting the end of every story about the prince and princess living happily ever after #only to ask fitz 'what happens to the rest of us' #the beggar who is not what they seem coming to the hero on a dark night #and the hero reacting with anger or violence only to discover the beggar's true identity #queen desire as the literal evil stepmother #a lot of fairy tales have a place you go where time passes differently #so you feel like minutes have passed and you go back to the regular world you find out it's been weeks #like the skill pillars #ANYWAY

[hederasgarden]

Safe With Me

Summary: Six is a hard man to read up until the moment he isn’t.

Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, violence, blood, angst, whumpage, death and some sexual content.

A/N: If this gets a good response I will write a sequel that takes place during the movie. Please note the reader has been Claire’s caretaker since her first surgery and is in her early 30s. The story is based on this ask. Thank you N and a @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta'ing and @skvatnavle for the title.

When Six comes into your lives, you’re not sure what to make of him. He’s clearly CIA-adjacent like Fitz – or some other alphabet agency– though he has none of the easy warmth of Claire's uncle. Just his quick sense of humor, but even that comes out sparingly, often startling a laugh from you. Claire takes to him quickly, poking and prodding at his cool exterior until you begin to see little cracks in it. Small glimpses of the man beneath the protector.

Once you notice the little tells, it becomes easier to catch them. Like the soft way he looks at Claire when she’s singing along to a record or the way his lips twitch up into a brief smile every time you remember his favorite pastry from the bakery. It’s apparent in the way his hand always rests at the small of your back when you’re out in public together, guiding you along as Claire tugs excitedly at your arm. You see it in the way he keeps himself as a buffer between the two of you and other people.

It’s how you know his nightly check-in at bedtime isn't just about following security protocol. Seeing you both safely tucked into bed for the night seems to ease some of the tension he carries. Most times the two of you don’t speak, he just pokes his head in and nods, giving you that awkward little grimace he probably thinks is a smile. Claire is another story, you can normally hear her excited little voice asking Six a hundred different questions that he patiently answers.

Tonight you’re in bed early, a warm cup of tea and a book in your hand. You thumb through the pages while you wait for him to come say good night, unable to rest until this part of your routine is complete. The clock on your bedside ticks steadily forward until it’s 9:05. Six is always prompt and when he doesn't show you grow concerned, venturing out to find him. You don’t make it far before a gloved hand covers your mouth and an arm snakes around your stomach. You’re pulled back against a solid wall of muscle.

“Tell us where the girl is,” comes the gravelly demand.

In your panicked state you thrash around, jerking your head back. Pain explodes along your skull and the man groans, releasing you. When you look back, you see blood pouring from his broken nose. You scramble away from him and scream for Six but the man catches you quickly. He forces you on your back and your head snaps to the side with the force of the first blow. You lay there stunned, with the taste of pennies in your mouth. You've never been hit before or purposely hurt like this and the ugly surprise of it is almost worse than the pain.

Tears well up and you breathe in wetly, blood escaping from your split lip down your chin. The man stares at you and even though the mask hides most of his face the anger in his gaze is unmistakable. Before you can recover he hauls you to your feet and throws you roughly against the wall, demanding you take him to Claire.

"No," you croak. He strikes you a second time and you flinch. God you hope Claire made it to the panic room. The thought of this man touching her makes your stomach roll. You close your eyes when he asks you again, waiting for another blow to come but nothing happens. When you hear the audible click of a gun’s safety your eyes shoot open. The man in front of you freezes.

He’s quick to recover, turning around and bringing you in front of him as a shield. You blink rapidly to clear your tears, relief surging through your body at the sight of Six. He looks a little worse for wear, a wound on his arm bleeding sluggishly and a gash on his side. To your surprise, he doesn’t address the man but looks right at you.

“You alright?” He asks.

You're not, but you nod anyway.

“Where’s the girl? Take me to her or I’ll kill this one,” the man demands, pressing a knife to your throat.

You whimper and Six’s lips thin, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Still, he doesn’t look at the man, speaking to you again. “Did he do that to you?” Six asks, motioning to your face.

“Yes.”

“Take me to the girl,” the man growls.

You jerk in his arms when you feel the blade split the skin of your throat. Six takes a step forward but stills, watching you for a long moment before he shifts his attention to the man behind you.

“I want you to know. I was going to leave one of you alive. The CIA loves to interrogate you assholes… but you touched her. That was a mistake,” he says, his voice cold and even. When he speaks again he’s still watching the man though you know he’s addressing you. “Close your eyes.”

You squeeze them shut, holding your breath. There’s no hiding what Six means to do and even though you know it’s coming you still flinch at the sound of the gun and the hollow thump of the man’s body hitting the floor behind you. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel Six’s touch on the side of your neck.

At his coaxing, your eyes flutter open, and you stare at his bloodied face. You can’t stop your hands from shaking and when your lips part no sound comes out. Some part of you knows you’re in shock, but you can’t make your body cooperate. It’s a struggle to breathe.

“It’s alright, take a breath,” Six instructs, cradling the uninjured side of your face in his hand. You inhale through your nose as he continues to watch you, nodding encouragingly until you're breathing normally.

"Six," you whisper, grasping his shirt.

“How are you doing, hen?” He questions, the use of his terrible nickname for you startling a laugh from you. Mother hen. For the way you tended to follow Claire around the house, fussing over her even when she tried to wave you off. “Should we go check on our little chick?” He asks.

“Where is she? Did they-” you start.

Six is quick to reassure you. “She went straight to the safe room just like I taught her. She’s okay,” he promises.

He offers you his hand and you take it, letting him fold you into his side. The smell of blood and cordite burns your nose but underneath is the familiar scent of Six’s cologne. It helps calm you, grounding you to him until you turn the corner.

“Don’t look,” he instructs, a hand on the back of your head urging you to press your face into his chest.

You only catch the briefest look at the carnage in the living room, thankful for the way Six shields you from it. He guides you along the hallway and you don’t open your eyes until he tells you to. The thick door to the safe room slides open and you smile in relief at the sight of Claire, lamp raised and a fierce expression on her face.

As soon as she sees you, she drops it and rushes into your arms. She touches your face so gently and cries, turning even more upset when she sees the state of Six. It takes both of you nearly an hour to get her calm enough to sleep. Even then you can tell it’s a fitful slumber, her little face scrunched up in concern. You stay with her, stroking her back while Six leaves to deal with whoever he called to clean up the mess in the living room.

You’re thankful nothing happened to her but it scares you how close those men got. If they’d gotten their hands on her… You shake your head, not wanting to think about that.

“Hen.”

You turn around at the sound of Six’s soft voice, finding him leaning against the doorframe. Even though he’s cleaned the blood from his face you can still see the gray shirt clinging to his side.

“We should get you cleaned up,” you say concerned.

“That’s my line,” he tells you, brow raised. “Come on, she’ll be safe. I got three guys in the house and another four outside. No one is getting in.”

You follow him into the hall, letting him lead you to the spare bathroom. He shuts the door behind him and you turn towards the sink, flinching at the state of your face. You raise a trembling hand to your lip. Six stops you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Did he get you anywhere else?” He asks, looking you over critically.

“Just the face.”

“So nowhere important, huh?” He questions, making you laugh and then wince when the action tugs on your split lip. “Hop up,” he directs, tapping the counter.

When you struggle to do as he asks, a disconnect between your mind and body still, Six helps you. He grasps your hips and hefts you up with a surprising amount of gentleness. You look up, your face close to his. He squeezes your hips and steps away, bending down to take out supplies from a little bin under the sink you never realized was there.

You clear your throat and curl your fingers into the fabric of your PJs. Now that things have calmed, pain filters in through your scattered nerves.

“You a doctor now?” You ask.

“No but I play one on TV,” he replies without missing a beat, rising back to his full height.

He stands between your legs and pulls on a pair of gloves. His touch is gentle as he slowly cleans your face and treats the wound on your neck. Your eyes fall closed at the feel of his fingers tracing the cut on your throat, spreading a cool, numbing cream over the angry line. He does the same to your lip and it helps take the sting out of it. After he removes the gloves, he runs his fingers over the rest of your face, applying gentle pressure at different points. You know he’s looking for fractures or breaks. Outside of the underside of your jaw being tender to the touch, you’re mostly okay.

“It’s not a lollipop,” he warns, dropping two little pills into your hand, “but they’ll help with the pain.”

“What about you?” You question.

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re still bleeding.”

“It’s not my blood,” he tells you.

“Oh.” You fall quiet and look up at him.

He turns away from you, listening to something outside the door and you look at his face in profile. You can see the faint beginnings of bruises on his cheek and jaw and there’s a patch of dried blood at his temple. Your eyes wander down his chest, cataloging what looks like a knife wound on his right pec and another down his left side. Hesitantly, you reach out and touch him.

Six grunts, eyes closing briefly. “Well, maybe a little bit is mine,” he admits.

“Let me help you.”

“Not to sound dramatic but it’s not the first time I’ve stitched myself up,” he tells you.

“Please, I…” You trail off, close to tears again.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly.

You don’t know how to explain that even though he may trust the men outside, you only trust him. You don’t want to be alone. He makes you feel safe, his presence the only thing keeping you from unraveling. It was easy to hold it together for Claire but now that it’s just the two of you there’s nothing to distract from how close those men got to her or what they did to you.

Six says nothing but he doesn’t have to, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your shoulders carefully. You sob when he hugs you close, twisting the fabric of his shirt in your finger as your body shakes. He rests his chin on your head and drags his hand up and down your back soothingly. The tears don’t last long, not with him holding and comforting you.

A small part of you thinks Six needs it too. You hear him breathe out and some of the tension leaves his body. He cares a lot for you and Claire. It’s why the two of you make an effort in your own ways to make him feel a part of your little family and cared for. To know he’s worthy of that affection. Eventually, Six pulls away, smoothing a large hand over the back of your head and down to your shoulder, squeezing it.

“Alright, your turn to play doctor,” he says, reaching back to tug his shirt off.

You can’t help the small sound that escapes your mouth at the sight of his scarred body. He doesn’t react to your response, staring steadily at a point beyond your head. His right arm is the worst, deep scars mangling his tan skin but it seems like everywhere you look there’s more damage to find. Underneath your concern is another feeling, one you try to ignore because now is not the time for your body to recognize just how good he looks without a shirt.

“None of these look too deep,” you say, taking the pair of gloves he hands you and getting to work cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

You carefully avoid the gun on his hip, looking up every so often to see his face. His expression is blank, and he doesn’t react to your touch even though you know it must be painful. You want to ask him what really happened tonight, but you know he’d only give you a glib answer. After you’re finished Six inspects your work. He gives you a thumbs up and smiles.

“Not half bad, doc.”

You grin back and stare up at him, breath catching when his eyes dip to your lips momentarily. The expression on his face is uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. You feel an answer tug in your own heart and slowly reach to touch the side of his face. Even though he’s still a mystery to you in a lot of ways you know him well enough to understand he would never make the first move. Too driven by some internal moral compass.

“Six,” you whisper, tilting your head up to invite him in.

There’s only a flicker of hesitation before he’s kissing you, a hand on your hip drawing you close to his body. He groans and you respond with a little gasp of your own when he pushes you back, your head bumping against the cold mirror. Your lips part for his tongue, a brief flare of pain from the cut there but it fades quickly when his hands cup your face. His scent and taste surround you and your body responds.

You grab his shoulder, wanting him closer and he grunts, pulling away. Pain clouds his eyes and your brows raise in concern.

“Six…”

He shakes his head and steps back, rolling his shoulder with a grimace. The air between you shifts, whatever softness he allowed to the surface dissolving as he steps away.

“You should go check on Claire,” he says.

“Alright,” you agree, letting him help you down from the counter. His hand lingers only for a moment.

He follows you down the hall to Claire’s room, hovering in the doorway as you climb carefully into bed with her. She stirs, blinking sleepily and reaching for you. When she says your name softly you assure her everything is ok, curling your body around her smaller one. She grasps your hand tightly against her chest and sighs, falling still. Six turns to leave and you call out to him quietly.

"Stay. Claire will feel better if you're close by," you lie. "She'll want to see you when she wakes up."

He nods and takes up a vigil in the brightly colored chair in the corner of her room. You lay your head on the pillow, the back of Claire’s head obscuring his figure from you. You don’t need to see him to feel safe. You know Six will always protect you and Claire.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren, @a-reader-and-a-writer and @blue-aconite.

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#sierra six x you #sierra six x reader #court gentry imagine #the gray man #court gentry x you #court gentry x reader #the gray man fanfiction #the gray man fic

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 [𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐘]

PAIRINGS —  Fitzwilliam Darcy x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Reader, encountered with an unexpected cold, finds herself staying longer at her friend's home in Pemberley and influencing him with her unconventional attitude

WARNINGS — sickness

NOTE — Here's the 2nd Mr. Darcy fic! It's been a draft for a while but I finally managed to finish it off, I hope you guys enjoy.

“Fitz! Come quickly Miss (L/N) is here!” Georgiana called her older brother as you rode into the Pemberley estate in your carriage. 

Mr. Darcy listened to his sister, but didn’t waste a second in telling her that there was no use yelling in such a big house and that she should have just sent someone to get him. 

“I know, I’m just so excited to see her,” Georgiana grinned. “Aren’t you?”

“I am happy she could come visit us for the week,” he said simply. “She’s quite busy keeping house for her brother.”

“Exactly, which is all the more exciting that she was able to come,” Georgiana grinned. 

The Darcy siblings met you outside, helping you deal with your bags first and then taking the opportunity to say hello. 

You kissed Georgiana on the cheek, taking a moment to really take in how much she’d grown while you hadn’t seen her. 

“My goodness, a few more months and you’ll be taller than me,” you laughed, Georgiana’s hands clasped tightly in your own. “Oh how I’ve missed you.”

“Just me?” Georgiana teased. 

“Now now, your brother knows very well that I’ve missed his company as well.”

“Then it is unfortunate you will only be able to stay with us for the week,” Mr. Darcy commented. 

“Yes, it most definitely is.”

“Please, come. Dinner is waiting inside, I am sure you are hungry after your travels,” Mr. Darcy, guided you and his sister towards the entrance of the large home. 

“You have assumed correctly, Mr. Darcy,” you nodded. 

“All the better that we can eat immediately then,” Georgiana smiled. “How is your family? Your brother? And sisters?”

“All fine and healthy thank you,” you said. “My elder sister is actually getting married very soon. The engagement was quite recent so she asked if I could pass the news to you both in person.”

“Oh how delightful!” Georgiana clapped her hands together. 

“You will both be invited to the wedding of course, it wouldn’t be the same without you there,” you smiled. 

“We shall greatly look forward to such a wonderful event, won’t we, Fitzwilliam?”

“Yes, of course. Any opportunity to see your family is a great one,” he agreed. 

Dinner was quite pleasant, you caught up on the events happening in your respective lives and reminisced about the days where you were closer together. 

The week at Pemberley passed faster than you would have liked and on your last day you decided to take a quiet moment to yourself, walking the grounds before dinner. 

The property was extensive and you often lost track of how far you had gone. This time, the realization came when it began to rain and you did your best to hurry back, hoping you wouldn’t get sick. 

Arriving back at the house, the bottom of your dress was soaked completely with mud and the rest of you was dripping with rainwater. 

Mr. Darcy happened to be walking by as you came inside and quickly came to attend to you. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked. 

“At this point, yes,” you nodded. “I just got caught in the rain.”

“Let us get you something to dry off, perhaps a change of clothes and some time by the fire will do you good.”

“Mr. Darcy, you needn’t worry, I’m sure everything will be fine and I can take care of it.”

“I insist. You are my guest, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t at least attempt to make sure you were alright.”

You conceded and let Mr. Darcy instruct someone to bring you a towel to dry off and walked you to your room before informing you he’d make sure a fire was started in the fireplace of the drawing room. 

After you changed into dry, clean clothes, you made your way there noting that you were beginning to feel a bit ill. You hoped it was nothing and that the feeling would pass, but it became clear during dinner when Mr. Darcy had to quickly rush to your side after you had almost fainted. 

He instructed someone to call a doctor and asked Georgiana to write a quick letter to your brother to inform him you would have to stay at Pemberley until you were feeling better. 

“Mr. Darcy, I really-,” you paused, taking a deep breath to fight off the nausea. “I wouldn’t want to impose and stay longer than I was intending.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head. “You are in no condition to travel. I don’t know what your brother would say if I sent you back while you are in this state.”

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, allowing Mr. Darcy to lead you into your room, sitting you down on the bed and assuring you he’d be back with tea and a doctor. 

Your fever was the worst the first night. The doctor stayed at Pemberley to make sure that you’d be on track for a healthy recovery. He informed you that whatever ailment you were suffering from could take some time to completely leave your system and as Mr. Darcy had already suggested it would be best for you to stay at Pemberley until you were completely healed. 

It pained you to sit around and do nothing aimlessly every day, but you knew there was no way you’d be able to get any better otherwise. 

One evening, after you had assumed everyone had gone to sleep, you badly wanted to stretch your legs and decided to make your way to the kitchen to make a pot of tea. 

You took careful steps, still feeling a little dizzy, only in a nightgown with a shawl pulled over your shoulders, when the flicker of a candle signaled to you that someone was there. 

You turned around and saw Mr. Darcy who was clearly still awake and staring at you quizzically. 

“Miss (L/N), what on earth are you doing out of bed?” he asked, increasing the pace of his stride so that he could reach you faster. 

“I was just hoping to make some tea,” you said. “And stretch my legs. Please don’t send me back to my room.”

Mr. Darcy pursed his lips and sighed, 

“Alright, let’s get you some tea.”

You began to walk, slightly more wobbly than before so Mr. Darcy carefully wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him so you’d have some support as you walked. 

“Are you feeling any better from this morning?” he asked. 

“A little, but much better than that first night,” you said. 

“Good,” he said simply and you continued your walk to the kitchen in silence. 

You tried to take initiative to grab a few things to make the tea , but Mr. Darcy stopped you and insisted he take care of it. 

“Mr. Darcy, you spoil me,” you chuckled. “Ever since we were little ones, you always have.”

You swore you saw a small smile make its way onto his lips as he placed the kettle on the stove. 

“I have very few people I’m able to spoil Miss (L/N), I’m happy you indulge me,” he said quietly, still holding you close to his side. 

“As much as I appreciate it, I do believe I can stand on my own,” you commented. 

“Let us see how those legs of yours hold up,” he took a small step away, removing his support and you almost fell backwards if it weren’t for his quick reflexes that caught you. 

“Perhaps not, then,” you chuckled, hiding your face in slight embarrassment. 

The water was boiled not that much later and you allowed the tea to steep for a bit before Mr. Darcy poured you a cup and carried it for you as you made your way into the sitting room. 

The room was only lit by the light of the candle and after sitting you down, Mr. Darcy stayed right there next to you. 

You knew if anyone caught you like this the rumours would go flying, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, feeling far too comfortable in his embrace. 

“You know my mother used to hold me like this when I was sick,” you yawned. “It’s not quite the same, but I guess you’ll have to do.”

“Surely you jest,” Mr. Darcy said and you shook your head. 

“Me? Jest? Fitzwilliam, who do you think I am?”

“That medication the doctor has prescribed you is surely doing quite a number on you,” he placed the back of his hand to your forehead only to see that you most definitely weren’t feverish. 

“It’s not the medication,” you shook your head. “Perhaps the exhaustion made me slip up, but don’t you think it’s incredibly silly that I shan’t refer to you by your name even though I have known you all my life?”

“I suppose it is,” he nodded slowly. 

“Just try it,” you suggested. “No one is watching, it's just you and I.”

He paused to a moment, still unsure if he should say anything, but he’d spent the entire night indulging you so he thought he might as well continue. 

“What do you wish me to ask you, (Y/N)?” 

“See that’s much better,” you nodded. “I quite like having you call me by my first name.”

“There are a lot of unconventional things I seem to find you enjoying,” Mr. Darcy commented. 

“Ah yes, the long walks alone, being held by a man while barely clothed, and of course referring to my oldest friend by his first name.”

Mr. Darcy couldn’t help the chuckle that had escaped, he decided then to simply shake his head and continue to hold you close. A signal to you that he didn’t really mind it. 

Now that your tea had cooled off, he passed you the cup and helped your slightly shaking hands lift it to your lips. 

“You know (Y/N), Georgiana is quite happy you haven’t left us yet as unfortunate as the circumstances are, she’s still enjoying your company.” 

“And I hers,” you sighed. “She’s grown so much since I last saw her, I really do wish I could be here more often.”

“As do I,” Mr. Darcy agreed. “Am I correct in assuming your brother has many engagements?”

“Constantly,” you nodded with a small yawn. “It’s exhausting, honestly. Even though I am unwell, Pemberley has given me some much needed rest.”

“I suppose some gratitude is warranted on both ends then.”

“Yes, it does seem that way,” you said yet another yawn. “You wouldn’t mind if I-,” you yawned again. “just…fell asleep…right here.”

Before Mr. Darcy could utter a single word, your head had fallen against his arm, your eyes shut, and your mouth slightly open, a quiet snore escaping every now and then. 

Mr. Darcy could only stare in admiration, pulling your shawl a little tighter around you so you didn’t get cold. 

Carefully, feeling that if he did it any other way he might be caught, he pressed the smallest kiss to your forehead. 

“Sleep well my dear (Y/N).” 

—

After that evening, you found yourself asleep in your bed the next morning as if nothing had happened. You were already feeling exceptionally better and within two more days you were well enough to make arrangements to head back home. 

“I wish you weren’t leaving so soon,” Georgiana sighed dejectedly as she pushed around her potatoes at dinner. 

“Georgiana I’ve been here two weeks longer than expected,” you chuckled. 

“I know, but it never feels like enough time.”

“I feel the same. I hope I’ll be back soon, but I really don’t know,” you said honestly. “When I was a little younger it was easier, not the same kind of responsibilities.”

“Right,” Georgiana nodded. “Wait, does this mean I must keep house for you if you’re not married soon?” Georgiana turned her attention to her older brother. 

“Perhaps,” Mr. Darcy nodded. “But I don’t think you should worry about that right now Georgiana.”

You felt a pang in your heart as he said that. It was only a matter of time before Mr. Darcy found a wife, but a part of you deep down always wondered if perhaps he’d consider you. 

You knew it was silly, he probably thought of you as a younger sister, but you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, especially when he treated you with such tenderness and care. 

To save your own feelings, you quickly changed the topic, asking about something general like the Darcy’s dogs or how the weather had been slowly improving. 

You went to bed that night without much thought of the conversation at dinner and got up early enough in the morning so you could get a good start on your travels. 

Just as you were about to go and inform someone to prepare the carriage you heard a knock at the door of your room. 

“Hello? Who is it?” you asked, your hands busy fixing something on your dress. 

“It’s me.”

You recognized the voice as Darcy’s and told him to come in. 

He opened the door and came inside the room, shutting it behind him. 

“Is something the matter, Mr. Darcy?” you asked, seeing the tense expression. 

“So formal,” he said with what you thought was a nervous chuckle. “What ever happened to your inclination to use my first name?”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate,” you said quietly. “Is there something you need?”

“I have a question to ask you,” he said and you nodded your head for him to continue. “I’d like you to stay longer at Pemberley. Would you?”

“I-Fitzwilliam, you know I’ve been here far too long, my brother needs me back in London. Even if I wanted to, I can't visit longer,” you sighed.

“I meant…I meant permanently.”

“P-Permanently?” you stuttered. 

“I apologize if I haven’t made it clear already-I suppose my nerves have gotten the best of me,” he rambled. 

“A-Are you asking me to marry you?” you asked finally and he nodded his head. 

You could already feel your head spinning, confused tears welling in your eyes. Where did this come from? Why was he asking? Why now?

“I-Fitz, where is this coming from?” you asked him. “If you just wish for me to visit more I can find ways to get out of London, you don’t have to ask me to marry you.”

“Why would you think I’d ask someone to marry me?” he asked, his voice was gentle as it always was when he spoke with you, but it carried a twinge of hurt. 

“I-I don’t know!” you threw your hands up. “Someone who can look after Pemberley for you? Do all the things a good and proper wife should?”

“And not for love?”

You swallowed thickly, your hands tensed and clenched with emotion. You couldn’t bear tiptoeing around it any longer. 

“Fitz, please don’t trifle with my feelings, just say it. Say it and I am yours.”

“I love you,” he closed the space between you, cradling your face easily in his large hands, pressing your forehead against his own. “I have loved you, (Y/N) since I knew what the word meant and I shall love you long past my dying breath. Stay and let me spoil you. Stay so that I may be able to see your beautiful smile every minute of every day. Stay because I love you.”

You nodded your head, knowing your words would fail you. 

For a moment there wasn’t propriety, no obligations, no societal standards. Just you and him. 

He gently kissed away your tears, knowing you were both protected by the closed curtain before quietly saying. 

“As much as I would love for you to stay, I believe the carriage should be ready now. I shall meet you in London in a few days to ask for your father’s blessing.”

“Yes, of course,” you wiped away the remainder of your tears with the sleeve of your dress before taking a moment to trace your fingers along his jaw. “I shall miss you, dearly.”

“And I you.”

But there was a certain lightness in both of your hearts, knowing that you’d get to spend the rest of your lives together. 

“Fitz,” you whispered. 

“Yes, my darling.”

“I almost forgot to say I love you too.”

You swore the smile that came across his face could have brightened the whole room. You brought his face closer to yours, stepping on your toes to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“I shall see you soon.”

He held your hand and gave it one last squeeze before you slipped out of the room, your heart beating out of your chest. 

—

Several Years Later

“Mrs. Darcy, lovely to have you back at Pemberley.”

“It’s wonderful to be back, I felt as if I was visiting my family in London for ages,” you dusted off your dress and took a pleasant look around the home. 

“Shall I inform Mr. Darcy of your arrival?”

“No, that’ll be alright, I can handle it,” you smiled. “He’s in his study?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You took off your coat with some help and began walking down the halls, quickly visiting with Georgiana when you ran into her and assuring her you would have plenty of time to catch up over dinner. 

When you arrived at your husband’s office the door was already cracked open so you carefully snuck inside and shut the door behind you, having to stifle a laugh at the fact that he didn’t even flinch or seem to notice you’d entered the room. 

You pressed your back to the door and waited patiently as he informed you that he would be one more moment and as soon as he put his pen down and looked up from his papers his eyes grew wide with surprise. 

“You’re back,” he smiled. “A day early.”

“I couldn’t wait,” you chuckled. “But you clearly could, you barely even noticed it was me!” you teased him. 

“My darling, I was far too engrossed in the letter I was writing, but I surely shouldn’t have been,” he came up to you and you were about to open the door so that you could leave the study, but he stopped you by putting his hand on the handle and cornering you between himself and the closed door. 

“Fitzwilliam,” you gasped and turned around to face him. “You naughty man.”

“Is it a crime for a man to wish to kiss his wife after having missed her for two long months?” he raised a brow. 

“I suppose not,” you chuckled while his thumb and forefinger tilted your chin upwards so that he could meet you in a tender and longing kiss. 

He was right, it had been too long since you had last seen each other and you wished your relatives would come to Pemberley instead of insisting you visit in London. 

Every moment you spent there you could barely enjoy because you wished desperately to be back in the company of the man whom you loved dearly. 

When you pulled apart, Fitzwilliam still held your face in his hands and asked you how your visit was. 

“Terrible.”

“Terrible?”

“Alright, it wasn’t terrible. I’m exaggerating, but I did miss you terribly,” you turned your head to gently kiss his hand. 

“And I you,” he kissed your forehead and lingered there a moment to savour the feeling of having you close again. 

The middle of your quiet moment was interrupted with a pounding knock to the door which started both of you. 

“Mama stop hogging Papa! I haven’t seen him either!” you could hear a small, but stern voice come from the other side of the door and both you and Fitzwilliam chuckled before opening it, revealing your daughter standing with her arms crossed over her chest, a pout on her lips. 

Fitzwilliam didn’t waste a moment, swooping down to pick her up and press a kiss to her cheek. She was still small and you knew especially when you were in private he liked to soak up as much of those moments as he could with her. 

“My darling, look at you! You’ve grown since I last saw you,” he said. “What did your grandparents feed you?”

“Too much veal,” you grimaced at the thought and he chuckled. 

“Did you miss me?” Louise looked up at her father with big pleading eyes. 

“Of course I did,” he assured her. “Your mother just came and found me first, that's all.” 

“You did say you wanted to stay with auntie Georgiana for a little while, don’t you remember Lou?” 

She nodded her head, conceding, but pressed a big kiss to her father’s cheek. 

“Next time maybe you should come find me, Papa,” she suggested. 

“I completely agree,” he gave her a small smile before continuing, “Now you two must be tired from your travels, why don’t we go see how long dinner will take and until then we can sit with Georgiana and have a cup of tea while you tell me all about your visit to London.” 

“And maybe Lou can convince you to join us next time,” you grinned and kissed your daughter’s cheek. “Isn’t that right my little munchkin.” 

She giggled and agreed emphatically, “Yes, Papa has to come with us! Because Mama says that I'm the boss.”

Fitzwilliam looked over at his daughter then you. He was happy Louise took after you, perhaps when the right time came she would give another young man the courage to share his love. 

@/icemankazansky

#mr darcy #fitzwilliam darcy #mr darcy x reader #fitzwilliam darcy x reader #pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice fanfiction #p&p fanfiction #p&p fanfic #pride and prejudice fanfic #mr darcy fanfiction #mr darcy fanfic #pride and prejudice 1995

[incorrect-pipravi]

Heyy this might be a morbid request but can u pls write some hcs of how it would be like for Ravi and Cara if pip did get killed by dt? It’s been on my mind all week lol

Hello! I really like your request. It’s so fun exploring different scenarios, so here’s what I think would have happened if Pip was killed by DT:

RAVI: he would definitely go into rageful anger and demand justice for Pip. And, of course, he doesn’t trust the police, who had already failed him and his family, so he takes it upon himself to give Pip her justice. I think he wouldn’t allow himself to mourn not until DT is behind bars, only then does he start the mourning process. He falls into the pits of depression and would cry a lot at first, but then he runs out of tears, so he’s just there. Numb and unfeeling and empty. It takes a lot of time, but he forces himself to be strong for Pip, because that’s what she would’ve wanted. He still visits the Fitz-Amobi family. He still tries to be the older sibling that Josh had lost. He still hangs out with their friends. He does get better, but there will always be a hollow space where Pip used to be.

CARA: she would be devastated. Pip, who had been there for her when she lost her mother and her father (figuratively), was now gone. How do you even grieve the person who took you through the worst of your griefs? There would be moments when she picks up her phone to call Pip, to ask her what to do, and then she gets hit with the fact that Pip no longer exists. She’d try her best to help Ravi get Pip her justice, but I think she’d be too lost to do anything. Of course, she clings to Naomi, Ravi and the rest of their friends. They will be her anchor. It still won’t take away the fact that her safe person, her home is now gone.

#agggtm #a good girls guide to murder #agggtm spoilers #pipravi #pip fitz amobi #cara ward #ravi singh

[kotlc-deleted-scenes]

Keeper Summer Week #10

Second Deleted Scene from Lodestar

This scene used to be part of the sequence set at Dex's house, but it felt like it was slowing the story's momentum too much, and nothing all that significant was happening or being revealed. So once again, I had to chop something I liked to keep the pacing tighter.

—Shannon

“Wow, just noticed the sky," Biana whispered as they all stared through the glass dome at the swirling streaks of green and pink.

"Is that the aurora borealis?" Sophie asked. "Or another one of your holograms, Dex?"

"That's the real deal," he said. "I actually tried adding a northern-lights setting to my gadget, but everything looked fake." 

"I'm sure it was better than you thought," Biana told him. "Though this really is beautiful. I know it's probably a huge betrayal to the Vacker name to admit this, but I think this is prettier than the Celestial Festival." 

Fitz and Biana's very distant relative—Orem Vacker—was a Flasher, and he was famous for creating a light spectacle whenever there was a total eclipse. 

"This is calmer," Fitz said. "Plus, it's kinda cool knowing there's no one controlling it. It's just…nature. Feels like a good thing to remember, you know? As powerful as we are, as many crazy things as we can do, there's so much that's way bigger than us." 

Biana laughed. "Look who's getting all deep and philosophical while cuddling with his sparkly red dragon." 

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," Fitz told her, hugging Mr. Snuggles tighter. "Besides, I think it's useful to remember that we're not as important as we sometimes think we are. It's…Never mind, I don't know how to explain it." 

"I do," Sophie jumped in. "It's good to remember that we're not the epitome of everything, because it puts it all in perspective. Especially with how huge our problems feel sometimes." 

"Exactly," Fitz said. "Maybe the whole world isn't resting on our shoulders. Only a part of it is. Sometimes I think we forget that. Like with the alicorns. All that stress and hassle we went through trying to shelter them in the Sanctuary, when the better idea was to let Silveny and Greyfell take care of themselves." 

"So ... what? We just let the Neverseen do whatever they want?" Dex asked. 

"Of course not," Fitz said. "But sometimes I wonder if the Council's problem is that they keep trying to control everything. Their attention gets so divided that they miss a bunch of huge stuff." 

"Like when they focused on finding the Black Swan instead of going after the Neverseen," Sophie suggested. 

"Or all the focus on abilities, and forgetting to train us in our skills," Fitz added.

Biana snickered. "Look—now they're basically finishing each other's sentences. They really are Fitzphie, aren't they?" she asked Dex. 

"It's Sophitz," Fitz corrected. "And hey, you guys are starting to turn into…Actually, what would we call you? Bianex? Dexiana?" 

"How about Vackizznee?" Biana suggested. "Or Dizzker?" 

"Dizzker?" Sophie repeated. 

"It could work," Biana insisted.

#lodestar #kotlc deleted scene #kotlc deleted scenes

[aphelea]

my eclipsed sun

Ao3

the quinlin & tiergan arguing fic!

Summary: Tiergan and Quinlin, in the wake of Alden's mind break, and the guilt and anger that lingers.

Tags: @cogaytes @lgbtqforeverything @give-me-caffeine @gay-otlc @bookwyrminspiration @winterfireice @arsonistblue @moonelight

“No.”

Quinlin’s shimmering form glares at Tiergan through the hologram screen of his Imparter. His hair—usually gelled back into a smooth ponytail—is haphazardly tied up into a loose bun, the shorter pieces falling wildly around his ashen face. 

Tiergan raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what I’m asking.”

“I can guess,” Quinlin replies, rolling his eyes. “It isn’t like you have a habit of hailing me for social calls.”

“No, I suppose not,” Tiergan muses. “Still, you can’t possibly know—”

Quinlin laughs dryly, effectively ending Tiergan’s statement halfway. “You’re going to ask if I want to see him,” he says, scowling at the screen. “I don’t.”

“Fine,” Tiergan says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t care what Quinlin does with his time. Even when he firmly believes that Quinlin’s decision is entirely ridiculous. “Though, you knew him best—”

“And what good does that do me?” Quinlin snaps. “He’s gone already; there’s nothing I can do to save him. You know as well as I do that it’s pointless to try and reverse a break.”

Tiergan sighs. “It’s not about reversing it. The healers simply said it may be useful to try and understand what’s happening inside his mind while the pieces are still large enough to do so.” He’s completely bullshitting at this point. But Fitz, Biana, and Alvar need someone who can actually help them at Everglen, right now, and there’s no chance that either Tiergan or Della will be able to fulfill that role. 

Quinlin’s lips curl at the statement. “And, what, you think I would be better suited to the task than you?” It’s about as close to a compliment as Quinlin has ever offered him. 

“It’s certainly no secret that you and he were…close,” Tiergan replies, with a slight chuckle. “I seem to recall that day in school, when we found you—”

“ Shockingly , the things a person does at seventeen are not exactly relevant for the rest of their life,” Quinlin interrupts, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “And, regardless, the only reason I’ve survived being inside a broken mind before is that I had my Cognate by my side.”

Tiergan pointedly decides to avoid thinking about the owner of the broken mind that Quinlin refers to.  

“You know the situation I’m referring to, of course,” Quinlin continues. 

Ah, but Tiergan should have realised that Quinlin is incapable of leaving well enough alone. 

“Don’t bring Prentice into this.”

“And here I thought you had begun the discussion of our shattered ex-lovers,” Quinlin replies. Somehow, amidst everything, the man has the audacity to look smug as he speaks, as if it isn’t his ex-lover, his best friend lying half-conscious in the bed beside Tiergan. 

Tiergan’s patience is wearing thin; of course, he knows every conversation with Quinlin is like this, the two searching for any way to get under the other’s skin, tossing blades with every scathing remark thrown. “There is no our, Quinlin. I’m nothing like you. And Alden could have only dreamt of being as good a man as Prentice.”

Quinlin raises an eyebrow. “Speaking ill of the dead, are we?”

“Is it really speaking ill if the man wholly deserves it?” Tiergan replies. He can match the fire in Quinlin’s eyes easily; they’ve been playing this game for decades. “And he’s hardly dead, yet, Quinlin. Have some faith, at least.”

Quinlin scoffs. “Faith?” he repeats. “What faith can I have? The moment Alden laid eyes on Prentice in that godforsaken cell, he was already beyond saving. I’m not foolish enough to believe that a miracle will occur.”

Tiergan is about to return with another scathing remark, when Quinlin’s words process fully in his mind. “How did you know he saw Prentice?” he asks, low and careful. There’s no way Quinlin could possibly know; Tiergan himself had only just gleaned the information from Sophie yesterday morning. (He almost wishes he hadn’t asked her—he can’t quite make sense of the mix of satisfaction and guilt curling in his gut, yet, at the thought that the mere sight of Prentice could have caused this mess.) 

Quinlin stutters and stumbles over his next few words, which itself offers Tiergan all the answers he needs. “It wasn’t hard to infer,” he says, but his eyes are shifting and somehow, Tiergan can’t quite believe him. 

“He visited you,” Tiergan guesses, and the situation feels achingly familiar. “He knew what was coming, and he wanted you to hear it all from him.” 

Quinlin looks away with a haunted expression. “I told him—” He pauses, then seems to remember who he’s speaking to. “Well. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You know that’s classified Council information, what he told you,” Tiergan notes, and there’s something strangely satisfying about being on this end of the conversation, for once. “Technically, you should both be arrested for that.”

Quinlin rolls his eyes. “As if you’re any paragon of law-abiding citizenship.” 

“And yet, you still can’t prove enough to arrest me.”

“I certainly could, if I wanted to,” Quinlin counters. “But have you considered that I simply don’t want you Exiled?” 

Tiergan…isn’t sure what to say to that. Of course, it’s a preposterous idea—why wouldn’t Quinlin want him Exiled, a two-for-two completion of his mission from long ago? 

“Though I suppose you must think I deserve this,” Quinlin says, with a dry chuckle. “Equal pain for pain I delivered you.”

“ Equal ?” Tiergan scoffs. “In what universe? Alden is only facing the consequences of his own rash actions. Prentice was innocent.” 

He expects Quinlin to take the bait once more, to snap back and continue the never-ending cycle of insults that has followed both of them since their Foxfire days But instead he quietly looks away, a pained expression on his face, and asks,  “Was he really, though?”

Tiergan frowns. “What?”

“Prentice,” he repeats. “Was he really as innocent as you claim?” 

Tiergan stays carefully silent, at that. It’s too early to give away anything, not with Sophie as weak as she is. And this is information Quinlin is already well aware of, anyway—anyone could have seen how secretive Tiergan and Prentice were, all those years ago. And Quinlin and Alden had seen through them far too well. 

Quinlin laughs dryly, ending a long moment of shared, tense silence. “Of course. The same answer as always. Because you know as well as I do—”

“Fuck off.”

Quinlin pauses, and raises an eyebrow. “You know, you’re really doing a horrible job of convincing me to come see him.” 

Oh. Right.  

“You’ve given me your answer. I don’t care enough about either of your lives to bother arguing about it.” It’s a blatant lie, and Tiergan hopes that Quinlin won’t call his bluff. But, alas, he is not so lucky. 

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be calling. You wouldn’t even be at Everglen,” Quinlin counters, with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose I should be grateful that you’re taking care of him, even after everything.” Tiergan takes an absurd amount of joy in the fact that Quinlin squirms at the attempt at gratitude—although it’s entirely unfounded. 

“Don’t invent kindness that isn’t there, Quinlin. I’m here for Sophie, and for Fitz, Biana, and Alvar—the children you’ve left behind.” 

Quinlin steps away, as if taken aback. “Well, we can’t all take in every lost child that shows up at our doorstep. They’re not my responsibility.” 

“Not your responsibility?” Tiergan scoffs. “All you do is break minds and break families and leave destruction in your wake, and somehow, I’m always the one to pick up the pieces. I don’t recall you being any help when I took in Wylie—when I could barely muster up the energy to leave my bedroom in the mornings, and then suddenly I had an entire child to take care of all alone —”

“I understand your frustration, Tiergan, but I really think you should blame Prentice for your son’s plight, not Alden and I. After all, I certainly didn’t make the decision to put allegiance to a group of rebels above my love for my family. Mr. Endal’s situation is, unfortunately, the natural consequence of poor decision-making.”

Tiergan itches to lunge for the hologram and strangle the man, but for civility’s sake he settles for a sharp glare and a scowl. “I could say the same about Alden.”

A long beat follows, in which Quinlin appears to cycle through every possible emotion at once. “Yes,” he agrees, though his lips seem to recoil at the words. “I suppose you could.”

And then a tense silence hangs over then—a rare sight, after years and years of endless quips and muttered insults, a constant stream of petty noise directed toward one another. Tiergan opens his mouth to speak—but before he can do so, Quinlin leans over and shuts the call with a scowl.

And suddenly the room is empty, save for Tiergan and the man he’d once declared his enemy, drooling on the sheets. “Well?” Tiergan asks, partly to Alden, and partly to the memory of a lover, long-gone. “Was it worth it? Was it worth ruining him? Do you know how much I—”  He forces himself to stop, because this isn’tPrentice, this is ten years later, with old wounds reopened. “Thank you for giving him a proper goodbye, at least. It’s more than I ever had.”

Alden, predictably, stays silent, and Tiergan wants to scream—but he settles instead for throwing his imparter at the wall, imagining all of his grief in holograms of silver mist, dissolving in the air. Quinlin’s taunts. Wylie’s missed hails. Leto’s face, revealing the news.

As the device lands, it cracks into hundreds of glistening shards, and Tiergan can’t help but smile. 

#kotlc #tiertice #qualden #august's writing! #this fic has been sitting in my drive forever i’m so glad its finally done

[zephyrmonkey]

Family Problems

Summary: When the reader has problems with her sister, Fitz is there to lend a shoulder to lean on.

Pairings: Leo Fitz x reader

Warnings: turbulent relationship with a sibling, Fitz being a caring boyfriend

Word Count: 823 words

“No! Sis! That’s not what I was saying!”

As Fitz walks down the hall, he hears his girlfriend's voice, (y/n), coming out of a storage room. Opening the door, her back is facing him, and her hand is holding her phone up to her ear.

With a sigh, (y/n) continues to talk to the other person on the phone, ignoring Fitz's presence. “Sis, if you would listen to me for a second. I could explain what I me-.” (y/n) pulls the phone from her ear to look at it. “She hung up on me. I can’t believe she hung up on me!”

Turning around to leave, she faces her boyfriend looking at her with a curious look on his face.

“What’s wrong?" Fitz asks.

“My sister.” (y/n) groans. “She’s blowing everything way out of proportion!”

Fitz sighs as he walks toward his girlfriend and brings her into a hug. Hearing her soft cries, he holds her closer while bringing a hand to her head and slowly running it through her hair.

“You told her how you felt?” He asks. Recalling their conversation a few hours before.

“Yeah.” (y/n) sniffles with her on Fitz’s chest. “I told her she hurt my feelings not asking me before she got rid of the cookies. We made them together, and we had so many left over that I assumed she would contact me before she got rid of them.”

“Is this really about the cookies?” Fitz asks, knowing she wouldn’t complain about something as trivial as cookies.

“No,” (y/n) sighs. “For as long as I can remember, she only looks out for herself. When she became part of the popular group in high school, she completely shut me out. She’s never really apologized for anything she did wrong and usually puts the blame on me.”

“That doesn’t sound like the healthiest relationship, love.”

“I know, but I’ve never really told her how I felt. You know I hate confrontation, and after all these years of her not considering my feelings, I finally told her that she hurt me. And when I did, she told me she didn’t like the words I used and that it hurt her feelings,”

(y/n) pulls away from Fitz to start pacing in front of him.

“She said she didn’t like that I used the word ‘disappointed’! Can you believe that! The word ‘disappointed’ hurt her because it made her feel that I was saying I was disappointed in her. When I clearly said I was feeling disappointed in the situation.  I used the word to convey my feelings to her, and when I did, she turned it on her! Like I’m not allowed to feel hurt, and if I do, I won’t get an apology because something that happened was probably my fault!”

Fitz steps in front of his girlfriend to stop her pacing.

“(y/n). You need to realize all of this is on her. None of this is your fault. You love her?”

“Yes, of course. She’s my sister.”

“Then love her, and maybe one day she’ll realize the harm she’s done and apologize. Until then, show her how to be a good sister.”

Fitz brings her in for a hug and kisses the side of her head as she wraps her arms around his waist.

“How did I get such an amazing man like you to be my boyfriend?”

“All you do is be the wonderful, caring, and selfless person you are.” (y/n) sighs as she lets her thoughts take over again.

“What if she never realizes and never apologizes? What if she just continues to act like this for the rest of her life?”

Fitz puts his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye.

“Then that is on her. You have a lot of people here who love you, and when you talk to her, know that you have to take everything she says with a grain of salt.”

He moves his hands from her shoulders to her cheeks.

“She’s your family. I get that. But know that everything isn’t on you. You don’t have to make everyone happy all the time. You are allowed to have feelings too.”

(y/n) nods as she leans forward to wrap herself around Fitz.

“If you need to remember anything, remember that I love you, and I am on your side.”

“Thanks, Fitz.” Her voice is slightly muffled as her face is buried in Fitz’s chest.

A slight smile appears on Fitz’s face as he kisses her temple.

“Dinner’s ready. That’s why I came to get you. You want to eat with the team, or we can go to the roof and eat by ourselves, or option three, the one I least advise, go to your room and eat by yourself?”

“The team.” (y/n) mumbles. “But I don’t want to leave your side.”

Fitz pulls away and puts his arm around her as he leads her to the door. “Deal.”

#leo fitz x reader #leo fitz #leopold fitz #agents of shield #I need a Fitz in my life #aos #fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel cinematic universe #marvel

[kvhasproblems]

Accidental Confessions.

Daisy Johnson x Fem!Reader

Rated: G

Reader uses She/Her pronouns.

Takes place sometime in season 3 I guess (it doesn’t really matter.)

(Spoiler Free)

Characters: Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz, Bobbi Morse, Daisy Johnson, Y/n

(All of my oneshots will have a Gn and Fem option, this is the Fem option)

“Bobbi I got the hard drive.” I hissed into my coms as I slammed my elbow into the last assailant's head knocking him clean out. I stood up straight a rolled out my wrist. I’ll have to get Jem’s to look at that when I get back.

“Copy that, get back to Z1 so we can head home. This mission took long because someone is just so slow.” Bobbi spoke with an evident smirk in her voice.

“Since you can’t see me I’m rolling my eyes,” I stated earning a small chuckle from Bobbi.

“You better be careful, I think you’ve been spending too much time with Hunter.”

“Says you! Aren’t you two back together?” I ask while running around the corner to where Z1 was parked and Bobbi was waiting.

“It’s complicated!” Bobbi grumbled.

“I’m sure it is VERY complicated.” I teased

“You’re sure one to talk have you even told D-.”

Bobbi was thankfully cut off by the chirp of her phone ringing.

“Sorry, it’s Fitz gotta take this,” Bobbi says with a slightly annoyed face not really caring to cover the sly smile.

Bobbi’s smile drops, once she answers the phone.

“What do you mean hurt?….. How bad?….. I'll let you talk to her…. umhum…..I’ll zip us back…. ok.” Bobbi passes me the phone.

I hold the phone up to my ear and hear Fitz doing his anxious mumbling.

“Hey, Fitz is everyone ok?” I press making my voice calm in hopes that it will calm Fitz on the other side.

“Yes… well no, not at all, well almost everyone, does that count-“ He mumbled rapidly.

“Fitz, tell me who’s hurt.” I insisted.

“Well, Simmons told me to tell you that…” Fitz paused causing my anxiety to rise. “Well Daisy got hurt, and to hurry back.” he rushed out the last part quieter.

I feel my blood drain from my face and I’m glad that I’m sitting down. I take a deep breath.

“Fitz-“ I tried to keep my voice steady. “What happened.”

“I’m not really sure only that Mack ran in with her. Simmons is doing surgery now. She actually told me to hurry back, she probably needs my help.”

Fitz hung up the phone before I could say another word.

I sat in silence my thoughts too loud and disorganized to even think of what to say.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine,” Bobbi spoke trying to assure me.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep… I know I should have gone with her on her mission, May could have come with you.” I say

“The one thing I can promise you is that I’m getting us back to base as fast I can,” Bobbi said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks, B… what if I messed up, by you know… not telling her. What if I never get to tell her?” I trembled my voice almost breaking at the end.

“Don’t think like that yet we don’t know anything, one of the first things you learn at the academy is; If you’re not there to assess the situation don’t make assumptions,” Bobbi said

“I know..” I said

We both fell quiet as Bobbi knew I wasn’t in the mood to talk. The rest of the flight felt like the longest of my life.

——————————————————————————

Z1 slowed and began to hover as Bobbi descended the plane to its landing. I flew to my feet, slamming the hanger door open the second we touched down.

My feet were flying me down The Playground’s hallways pushing people out of my way. I’d have time to apologize to them later, I had no idea how much time Daisy has… My throat felt thick as the lump was becoming harder to ignore. My eyes felt hot with the fresh tears brewing.

‘Compartmentalize you idiot.’ i scold myself as I ran. ‘Panic never helps a situation.’

I flew into The Lab and headed straight for the hospital wing. I quickly ran to the shut room and ripped the door open.

There she was. Alive. The heart monitors a steady confirmation that she was ok. Daisy was hooked up to an IV too. The few scratches she has had been cleaned. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

I slowly lowered myself into the chair beside her bed. She looked so peaceful, that I couldn’t help but reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. My hand lingering a bit too long.

“Hey Das… you really scared me there… I-“ I choked up a bit before continuing. “I don’t think you know how much you mean to me. I don’t know what I would do without you. When we are together I feel like I’m whole. You are my home. My safe place. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you… especially before I got to tell you that I lov-“

“Are we talking about love?” Daisy sleepily and groggily mumbled.

“Hey, Das.” I smiled softly at her. “I guess I was..”

“I’m in love with this girl… she’s amazing,” Daisy said looking deep into my eyes.

I felt my heart sink deep into my chest. I felt embarrassment bloom deep within me filling me with a shame and sorrow that I’d never felt before.

“Oh..” was all I could muster.

“You’d love her you know… She’s so tough and she always beats me when we spare though I think it’s because I’m distracted with how beautiful she looks, even when she’s kicking my ass.” Daisy chuckled almost drunkenly. “She so smart too, she can pretty much keep up with FitzSimmons and she always knows what to do. And she’s so sweet, to me at least. She gives me the best hugs where she holds me right and I feel so safe that I never want to leave. She knows everything about me and always listens when I tell one of my stupid stories and when she looks at me it feels like all my troubles fade away and it’s just me and her. And she always puts the people she loves first and I worry about her because sometimes she forgets to look out for herself. I’m just so in love with her that I’m too scared to tell her… what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Daisy ranted with a sloppy love drunk smile on her face.

“I'm sure she does Das but what’s her name?” I asked saying praying with every fibre in me that I wasn’t wrong.

“Her name is Y/n and I know you’d just adore her,” Daisy said grabbing your hand that still laid on the bed beside her.

“Daisy… Can I tell you a secret?” I said barely containing my laugh. What kind of meds did Simmons give her? “I am Y/n, D.”

I stared at her as the realization spread over her face.

“Oh. Well, that was less scary than I thought. Do you Y/n, like me back?” she asked almost shrinking back into her bed afraid of the answer.

“Yes Daisy, I love you more than anything. I was telling you all about it before you woke up but since you didn’t hear me I’d be happy to tell you again.” I said with a smile.

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, the smile giddy and timeless.

“Tell me,” she said in almost a whisper.

“You Daisy Johnson are the love of my life. You are my home, my safe place. I love you more than anything else. I love your smile and your bravery, I love your little stories and how you cuddle up next to me as we binge all our comfort shows, I love how you love and care not just about me but the whole team, I love your heart and your eyes I just get lost in them as I try to guess what you’ll say next. I just love everything about you Daisy. I love you.” I gushed while looking deep into her dark eyes.

My gaze slowly trailing down to her lips. The ones I've imagined kissing so many times.

Daisy reached up to meet me halfway in a chaste kiss. Warmth blossomed in my chest, sparks igniting as Daisy leaned in again this time for a hungrier kiss. The encompassing scent of her conditioner, was dizzying, her slightly calloused hands bushing up against my face to pull me closer.

I could feel her giddy smile against my lips as she broke the kiss. This action alone made my heart soar.

I kissed her on the forehead and tucked her back into the stiff hospital bed.

“You my love need some rest,” I whispered making no move to leave her side.

“Stay with me.” She whispered back.

“Always.”

#agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #agents of shield #agents of shield fanfics #aos #aos fanfic #daisy johnson #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson x fem!reader #daisy johnson fluff #fem reader #accidental confession #hurt daisy johnson x reader

[thatswhatsushesaid]

Shipping ask game:

- Only semi-joking here but JGY/a fucking break (since I’m sure someone else will be all over xiyao)

- whatever your favorite non-The Untamed ship is

Please and thank you 😊

jgy/a fucking break, my other OTP 🤝

and oh my god, you've done it now, I'm going to talk about fitz and the fool from the realm of the elderlings. you can't escape from this. it is as inevitable and inexorable as the changing of the seasons and my begging an extension to file my taxes every year

1. what made me ship it?

the fool's tsundere phase in royal assassin where you can almost feel his feelings for fitz changing as fitz grows more and more infatuated with molly; a very baby queer experience imo, which makes sense because I was about 13 when I was reading these books for the first time and I too was very aloof and sullen and "fine, it's not like I like you anyway" towards the other boys and girls I did, in fact, like anyway. if this seems childish, please see the above sentence where I indicate I was a literal child when I read these books for the first time. like. fitzloved was my first queer ship, but I happened to get into it while I was also reading inuyasha fan translations online (page by page, downloaded through a 56k modem connection in the late 90s/early 00s) so, yeah.

re-reading the books as a 30-something, what made me ship them was their gentle and effortless domesticity at the start-ish of fool's errand, where even fitz calls out how seamlessly the fool adapts to his and nighteyes' way of living on his remote cottage homestead, and how there is no real frustrating period of adjustment as they cohabitate because they instinctively understand each other so well. it's such a marked departure from how fitz's relationship with molly goes, first in their fractious youth (where fitz is a truly terrible lover to molly, who deserves better) and then later on when /zips my lips because spoilers for the last trilogy, and I know I have some followers who are reading the books through for the first time.

anyway tl;dr they're in love your honour, and it is the defence's position that they should fuck about it, I rest my case.

2. what are my favourite things about the ship?

oops I kind of answered that already

(son of oops, I forgot to change the font and I managed to fail correcting it three different times, so it stays.)

3. is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

ummm I'm not sure. I rather transparently do not like the end of the last trilogy, which I will again avoid discussing because spoilers, but I'm not sure that is an unpopular opinion, exactly. it used to be unpopular in some corners of the fandom, many many moons ago, to assert that the Fool wasn't actually a woman pretending to be a man, because fantasy as a genre that was open and welcoming to queer characters (and writers) is a comparatively new phenomenon, and so for a lot of fans the only way to make fitz/fool work for them was to insist that the fool had been a woman all along. which is very 👎👎👎 imo, not because I'm someone who ascribes to the "the fool is really a man" school of thought either. the fool's gender is a fluid and amorphous thing that is frankly none of my business lmao but regardless, even the pale woman knows that fitz is hot for his bestie regardless of his sex or gender, which is why she tries to woo fitz with her whole "I'm like the fool, but a woman!!" spiel.

#asks answered #ask meme #realm of the elderlings #fitzchivalry farseer #the fool #fitzloved #god i am. i am so high. /clutches my chair #does any of what i just wrote make sense #help 💀

[a-sexy-asexual-658]

The Twin Sister (Part 16)

Dex had been nagging Sophie and me for weeks to try some elixir but I kept saying no, all too aware of the elves' nack for making their elixirs taste bad. Sophie also said no but eventually gave in, she needs to get a spine.

She took a few steps after drinking it and then became a slumped mess on the wall. "Uh, Soph, you alright there?"

"No, it's hot and I can barely-"

"Woah, what are those?" Dex asked pointing to some red bumps popping up on her skin. I paled and Sophie could barely get the word 'allergy' past her lips before she collapsed. She was still awake as I picked her up in my arms and ran for the healing center. Sophie may be taller than me but I was definitely stronger. To me, Sophie had the weight of a chicken, but on the outside, since she is taller when I carry her it looks like I'm struggling when I'm not.

"Hey! what's going on, oh god!" Fitz reached out to grab Sophie but I shoved his shoulder glaring daggers at him with a hiss as I kept running. He stood there frozen for a few seconds, a look of fear on his face like he just saw a bloodthirsty creature in front of him. Can't blame him though people have described me as such when I'm protecting Sophie.

Fitz caught up with us as Sophie barfed, I made sure to tilt her head a bit so it landed on the ground and not me as I jumped over it, the boys not being so lucky and slipping getting covered in the vomit. I ran into the Healing Center and the rest was a blur of Bullhorn screaming, Elwin getting Dex and Fitz out and left me inside to watch and help, learning experience, but I couldn't pay attention. My sister looked so bad she could die. Then I remembered, our allergy, it was fatal to us. Fucking Dex- no don't blame Dex he didn't know, he's just a sweet little cinnamon bun!

A few hours later Sophie is awake and fine, nothing to get into there except for her embarrassment of barfing. Oh yeah and Bullhorn screamed his head off which means Sophie could have died fun and I had to reveal I wasn't perfect by saying I also had the allergy. Boo. I threatened Elwin that if he told anyone I personally had it I would have his head but his 'I won't tell a soul' wasn't very believable. He also expectedly gave me a vile on a necklace as well in case I accidentally took limbium too and got a reaction.

When we got home Grady and Edaline had gone into a panic.

"Elwin?" Grady called, dropping everything when he saw us glitter into view. He raced over with Edaline hot on his heels. "What's going on?"

"I brought Sophie - and (Y/N) since she refused to go back to class - home to rest. She had a bit of a crisis."

"Crisis?" Edaline sounded panicked as she ushered everyone inside, and Elwin led Sophie to the couch with me plopping down and laying my head into Sophie's lap. "What happened?"

Sophie hid her face as Elwin gave them the full story, but just I closed my eyes ready to take a nap when Grady and Edaline gasped over Bullhorn screaming.

They both looked deathly pale.

"Did Bullhorn lay down beside her?" Grady asked. His voice sounded hollow. Banshees only did that when someone was on their final breaths I remembered Elwin had taught me once.

"Yes," Elwin admitted quietly. "At first he was just screaming, but then he got quiet and curled up against her chest—nearly gave me a heart attack."

"So . . . she almost died," Edaline whispered. Her eyes darted to Sophie and widened. "You almost died!"

Sophie shivered and I grinned.

"Yes she did, leave the almost dying to me, sis, that's my talent," I said and both Grady and Edaline glared at me.

"No! Both of you! No almost dying!" Grady yelled at us and I shrugged sitting up.

"Clearly you don't know my reputation." I grinned and his face darkened. He turned to Sophie and my eyes widened in horror.

"She use to fight in an illegal fighting ring, drank alcohol underage, and had been stabbed many many times. And don't get me started on the jumping off cliffs and hurting herself purposefully because she was simply 'bored'." Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Fu- I mean fudge you its fun!" I said and Sophie elbowed me.

"The fact you hurt yourself on purpose the way Sophie said constantly is very concerning (Y/N)," Edaline said and Sophie quickly changed the subject.

She cleared his throat. "I'm okay now, right?"

"You should be." Elwin turned to Grady and Edaline, "She's tough. How else could she survive so many disasters?" Elwin joked.

Grady and Edaline didn't smile.

"She looks so pale," Edaline whispered. She reached for Sophie but retracted her hand before actually touching her.

"She just needs to rest. She'll be back to normal tomorrow."

"I'm already back to normal," Sophie said. I watched blankly, are we ignoring me again? Ok.

"But what if this happens again?" Edaline asked.

"It won't," Sophie promised.

"Is that true?" Grady asked Elwin.

" I'll have to do some research. In the meantime, I gave her an emergency solution to keep with her. Let's hope she won't need it, and that it works if she does. I also gave one to (Y/N) because she apparently has the same allergy as Sophie so just in case."

"Hey, you said you wouldn't tell anyone!" I yelled and was ignored.

Edaline and Grady both nodded blankly at the news.

Elwin squeezed Edaline's arm. "She's fine now. Once she rests and has something to eat she'll be back to her old self."

"I am back to my old self," Sophie insisted but much like me was ignored, Aw! Ignored buddies!

Edaline nodded, but she didn't look convinced.

"Well," Grady said, turning to Elwin. "We should let you get back to work. Thank you for all you did to save her."

"Just doing my job. Besides, Sophie's my best patient." He gave Sophie a small smile. "Just make your next crisis less dramatic, okay?"

"Maybe this is my last catastrophe," she mumbled.

Elwin and me laughed. "You? Never." Elwin said while I said.

"Hell Nah! I got a pretty good feeling this isn't the last! And you know how spot on my guts are!" I winked and Sophie dropped her head into her hands.

Grady's lips tightened and Edaline looked at the floor. Clearly, they agreed with us. Except they didn't seem to think it was funny.

Grady helped Sophie up the stairs and Edaline brought us both a bowl of brothy soup in bed, but their minds seemed to be elsewhere. When we finished eating, Edaline clapped twice and the shades plunged the room into darkness. The shadowy light made them both look worn and haggard.

"Are you okay?" Sophie asked.

"We're worried about you two," Edaline whispered, her eyes on the floor.

I stayed silent as Sophie yawned and I stared at our adoptive parents.

"Get some sleep," Grady said as he tucked us in for the first time since we'd moved in.

Maybe it was the way he wrapped the blankets extra snug. Or maybe it was Edaline handing us our stuffed animals. Or maybe it was Sophie almost dying. Whatever it was, I snuggled into the pillow and Sophie, feeling so much like family I couldn't help whispering, "I love you guys," into the silence also realizing Sophie had done the same.

But my exhausted body fell asleep before I heard their answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1292 words

Well that's the next part, nothing really to say. Hope you liked it. 

Eat real food, Frink real water and  get 4 hours + of sleep or else (Y/N) will get killed before she has her first kiss! Mwhahahahahahahaah! 

-- Evil cat laughter GIF--

Bye!!

~Sahiko

#sophie foster #kotlc fanfic #kotlc #kotlc x reader #(y/n) #more to but I'm lazy #keeper of the lost cities

[iwillberunningfromdemons]

"Are you quite all right?" Dutiful asked me and came to offer me his arm to my seat at the table. I was too proud to take it, and even seated at the table, I was uncertain of how to proceed. Chade marked my furtive glances at Nettle, for he burst into a laugh and said, "Fitz, she's a member of the coterie now. You must have expected it to come to this."

I glanced at her. Her look was like a knife, and her words as cold and sharp as she sank them into me. "I know your name, FitzChivalry Farseer. I even know that I am your bastard daughter. My mother knew no Tom Badgerlock, you see. So, while you were in the infirmary, she went to see who had claimed to be her old friend. Then she came away and told me all. All."

"She does not know 'all'," I said faintly. Abruptly I could think of no more to say. Chade got up hastily, poured brandy and brought it to me. My hand shook so that I could scarcely raise it to my mouth.

"Well, your mother named you well," Dutiful observed acidly to her.

"As did yours," Nettle replied sweetly.

"Enough, both of you. We will set this aside while Fitz tells us where he was while guards combed the entire kingdom for him." Chade spoke quite firmly.

(...)

"Fitz?" I became aware that Chade had spoken to me several times when he touched me on the arm. I twitched and came back to awareness of the people at the table. Dutiful looked sympathetic, Nettle distant, and Thick bored. Chade rested a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Would you report to the coterie on where you have been and what happened to you? I have my suspicions, but I'd like them confirmed."

Habit made me begin from the last time he'd heard from me. I was blithely telling them of entering the Black Man's abode when I suddenly became reluctant to share all the Fool had said. So I looked at my hands on the table and summarized it, leaving out as many of the intimate details as I could. Of those who sat at the table, only Chade perhaps had a glimmering of what my parting from the Fool meant. Without thinking, I said aloud, "But I did not go back, and you say I've been gone over a month. I do not know what they will make of that absence. I want to go back, but now I fear the pillars as I never have before."

Fool's Fate, by Robin Hobb (Tawny Man Trilogy #3)

#fool's fate #rote reread #tawny man trilogy #rote #realm of the elderlings #realm of the elderings #robin hobb #book quotes #fitzchivalry farseer #nettle farseer #chade fallstar #beloved #the fool #fitzloved #molly chandler #books #fantasy books #fantasy #fantasy literature #books and quotes #books and reading #dutiful farseer

[amandayetagain]

I Don’t Want You Like a Best Friend

Keefitz but then they were roommates and pining and maybe the universe really does know what it’s doing, but if it doesn’t, this is the happiest accident since they met. (Try to get through the first half, I’m prouder of the second)

-

It was getting harder and harder for Fitz to resist the pull drawing him to Keefe. Every day, his resolve weakened. And every day, he came back to their dorm room, waiting at the door frame as he took in the scene. Keefe had a way of making everything he did look poetic.

There he was, sprawled out on his bed with sheet music littered around him like fallen snow. His keyboard was plugged in, guitar resting on his chest as he stared at the ceiling. 

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Lately I’ve been hearing voices / telling me to make all sorts of choices,” he sang. “I can’t resist. I know I should be able to / But I can’t help it when the voices sound like you.”

“I know it’s probably a story-type song,” Fitz began. “But just to make sure- you’re not actually hearing voices, are you?”

Keefe turns to him, solemn.

“They don’t want me to tell you,” he whispers, cracking himself up.

Fitz steps in, the corner of his eyes crinkling. It happens when he smiles, something he worked to love about himself.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet? You didn’t drink a Monster, did you?”

“I would never betray your trust like that,” he declares. Fitz wasn’t entirely certain whether or not Keefe was joking, though he was pretty sure it had been the truth. “I was waiting for you.”

“You were not.”

“I was too! Della sent us a care package, and I have graciously waited for you to open it. You should applaud my patience.”

“I think you mean she sent me a care package,” Fitz corrected.

“Whatever you say. We both know the truth.”

He was right. The box may be addressed to Fitz, but its contents were for the both of them. Like the Swedish fish Keefe had just spotted, yelling triumphantly. Fitz couldn’t stand the red dye, but Keefe was practically addicted.

“Did she send socks,” he asked, putting away his things. “She was hinting at it this morning.”

“Yup! And matzo ball soup! And pens, a candle, face masks, tea, and some kind of succulent. The note says it propagates super easily?”

“We should call to thank her tomorrow.”

“Mhmm.”

Surprised by Keefe’s short answer, Fitz turned towards him.

Only to find him curling up under Fitz’s blankets, his sharp edges and soft corners brushing the outermost side of the bed. 

“You have your own bed, you know.”

“It’s messy.”

They don’t need it. Why sleep so far from the cadence of his breath? Why carve a canyon between their bodies? Why pine from afar when he could do so with Keefe in his arms? 

When he settles in next to Keefe, he resists the urge. The urge to press a kiss to the top of Keefe’s head, rather than simply inhale and exhale, tension seeping out of his body. The urge to voice his thoughts. 

Normal friends don’t hold hands as they fall asleep, fitting together without saying a single word. They don’t wake up to the other gazing up at their lips. They don’t lock eyes for a moment, and have that moment feel like an eternity. 

He was certain they didn’t have their minds consumed by the thought of crossing a line they couldn’t turn back from.

In the morning, he untangles himself from Keefe, wishing he never had to leave.

Once again, he waits at the door frame.

And once again, he asks himself what if.

Not what if he told Keefe he knew he had been the one to embroider his prayer shawl, even though he let Biana take the credit, but what if they took what they were now? Took these schematics and built a city to hold all their love? What if he threw caution in the wind, and faced all his fears, and said the words that constantly rested on his lips, interwoven with his heartbeat, a whisper in every touch, every look, lying under the exquisite way Keefe’s name felt when he spoke it aloud.

He had said it before, but not in the way he knew it to be true.

He knew he would never say it. The cost was too high, the risk overwhelming in all its entirety. Once you say something, you can never truly take it back. And then they’ll have lost it all. Over a decade by Keefe’s side, only for their time together to come abruptly to a stop.

He may not be able to let himself say it, but he could think it.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

“I love you.”

And it’s fine, because Keefe is asleep. It's fine, because even if Keefe was awake, he would have overanalyzed it by the time Fitz came back, and since there’s no way he loved Fitz the same way, he would drop it.

He closes the door on his way out, oblivious to Keefe’s reality.

He didn’t see how Keefe’s heart was beating out of his chest, how he drew his knees up, pulling Fitz’s old jersey over them. It was something Fitz normalized in his denial, Keefe wearing his clothes. 

He didn’t see the shocked blush on Keefe’s cheeks, didn’t hear his breath catch, or watch Keefe rake a hand through his hair, falling back onto the pillow.

He didn’t know Keefe had a journal of songs written about him, for him.

And he didn’t expect the frantic kiss launched at him when he returned.

But he sank into it, letting go of his bag, hands clutching Keefe’s waist to pull him closer and closer, and god why had he waited so long when they could have been doing this the whole time? Keefe is drinking him in, polishing him off like the hard cider they’d had way too much of once upon a time. It wasn’t their fault, they hadn’t known, but they ignored it when they woke up, lips swollen, marks littering their skin. They could barely even remember the night before, so who’s to say they hadn’t come back from their respective lovers and fallen back into Fitz’s bed as they had so many times before? 

Fitz drew back, holding Keefe away from him, heart breaking as he saw the hurt in his eyes.

“No, it’s not that,” he exclaims, chest heaving. “I just . . . I need to hear you say it.”

“That I love you?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Guess what,” he whispers. 

Fitz is too stunned to respond.

“I love you. Fitz Vacker, you absolute idiot, I love you. I don’t want anyone else kissing me, so once you’re done processing, I’d like a lot more. Unless my astoundingly good looks have rendered you speechless, we might have to deal with that fir-”

And they were kissing against the door frame. After all this time, all was as it should be.

#I share my clothes with my best friend but not like that #Keefitz #kotlc fanfic #Amanda writes again

[renee-writer]

Baby Girl Chapter Ten

AO3

“I cross referenced couples that have lost children with father’s that work for Glasgow Carry. There is one, the Simon’s. Twin girls, age five, tragically taken in a car accident, in a kindergarten car-pool. I have sent you guys their info.”

 

“Beauchamp, I love you!” Gel says.

 

“I am quite loveable. Beauchamp out.”

 

She hurries back to John. “We have some probable suspects.” She fills him and the gathers officers in .

 

“Crimey, I recall that accident. A real bad one. Three killed, not counting the drunk driver that ran into them.” One of the officers replies.

 

“Lets go!”

 

The team meets at the address, tactical vests on.  “Remember there are two lasses in there we want to safely return to their parents.” Gel says to those gathered.

 

“Aye.” The police chief replies. “Alright men. We do this carefully. Let the BAU lead.”

 

Gel and Fitz head out first with Fraser and John following. A knock and shout. “Scotland Yard, open up.” When there is no response, the door is kicked down. Weapons up, they enter the house.

 

“What is this?” Me. Simon stands, blocking the way to the rest of the house.

 

“Where are they, the lasses?” John asks. “Tell us. We just want them returned home.”

 

“They are home. Katelyn and Kylie are home.” He names his lost children.

 

“Mr. Simon, we need to see them, see that they are alright.” Gel softly says.

 

“They are. We are taking care of them now, doing it right, this time.”

 

“No doubt. We just need to see.” John walks slowly towards him. He seems to deflate in front of him. His breath let’s out and he sinks to the floor.

 

“We couldn’t . I couldn’t … give her more children. She was drowning in grief, I had to … do something.”

 

“Where is your wife and Sara and Hattie?”

 

“In the girls room, down the hall, the pink door.” The police secure him as the team heads towards the pink door.

 

She sits on the bed, cradling the girls against her. Everyone let’s out their breathes at seeing them, alive.

 

“Mrs. Simon, we need to see them, check them out.” John softly says.

 

“They are mine, my babies.” She holds them tight against her sides. She has no weapon but love. Gel walls over to them.

 

“I am so sorry for your loss. Sara and Hattie ‘s mums and dads really miss them.”

 

“I can’t loss them again.” She frantically shakes her head. Fitz and Fraser approach from the sides as Gel keeps her focused on her.

 

“You will always have Katelyn and Kylie in your hearts but Sara and Hattie must go back to their parents.”

 

Fraser frees one child and Fitz the other. They run to John, weeping as their captor is handcuffed.

 

“You can’t take my babies away again!”

 

The girls are returned to their parents. The team heads home.

 

“So sad.” Beauchamp says to Fraser. “They had no right to take them but, their grief must have been overwhelming.”

 

He sits in her office, surrounded by computers.  “Aye, seems the twins were a result of IVF and they couldn’t afford to do it again. So, they believed stealing was the only way.”

 

She sighs. “What will happen to them?”

 

“A psych evaluation and then, either prison or treatment, maybe both.”

 

“I pray for treatment. Bad guys but not monsters.”

 

“Aye. You were wonderful baby girl. Without you…”

 

“Just the roadie to you rock stars.”

 

He shakes his head. “You are much more then that.” He stands and slips out, leaving her grinning.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #baby girl #chapter ten #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom #modern au

[bookwyrminspiration]

Based on the post you made abt people who dislike Sophie, do you think she’s a self-centered person? Or that she can be at times?

Oo that's an intriguing question. I think that she can be self-centered, but that the vast majority of the time it's appropriate and not something that's negative about her character or something to be changed.

(putting the rest under a cut because long :))

The thing is, Sophie is the main character. This story is told through her, about her specific experience and relationship to everything that is happening to her world and her life. Of course there's going to be a heavy focus on her, because that's the point. She's not an impartial observer, she plays a large active role in everything, so she should be self-centered about what's happening.

Take all the times she thinks about her unnaturally strong abilities and worries about them or her role as the moonlark or her focus on her biological parents. Those things relate the the plot, yes, but they're parts of it that are very important and connected to her character as well. It's only natural that people think about themselves and how things impact them! In fact, I'd be off-put if Sophie was able to distance herself and impartially compare everything with everyone else and represent everyone equally. She shouldn't have to give up herself for the sake of everyone else in the story when it's her story (not that anyone is suggesting that)

Are there times she could've reached out more to friends and been more inclusive? Yes. In that sense, I suppose she could be considered self-centered if that's the definition you're using. Dex could've had a more active role in some missions, and she could better utilize her friends strengths better. Linh frequently gets left out of the loop, and Tam was stuck in the Neverseen a lot longer than he probably would've been if they'd actively tried to get him out. That's something Sophie actively feels guilty about and berates herself for, so she's aware of the behavior. But I also don't think I, personally, can blame her for it because it was very clearly out of her hands. Shannon needed Tam to be able to trigger Keefe's new ability as part of the climax at the very very very end, and in order for him to do that he needed to be under Gisela's control, so she couldn't take him away from the Neverseen until it'd been done otherwise nothing new would've happened.

I do think it's a little unreasonable to expect her to keep up perfectly with all her friends though. There are a lot of people in her life, and they all have different thoughts and desires and take up space on the page. Sometimes some need more focus than others. There are people it could be distributed to more, like Dex and Linh, but it's not some moral failing if you're closer to some of your friends than others. They don't all need to have the exact same standing. But I'm getting off topic

Another thing though is that a lot of her actions that could be considered selfish or self-centered are also done for the sake of others. Her running away to bottle everblaze and prove it was actually everblaze was something she chose to do against everyone's instructions, and she did it not only to prove her worries right but because humans were in danger. She looked so much into the Black Swan in Exile to learn about her creators and then fixing her abilities so she could save Alden. Yes, she didn't want to be broken anymore, but Alden was a huge part of it too. She didn't ask Dex if he wanted to go where they were held because she didn't want him to have to relive that. You can agree or disagree with the decision, but at least part of it came from her concern for her friend. She temporarily forgot about Biana...while trying to keep half a dozen people alive having just found her parents brutalized unconscious bodies after weeks of searching. I think in this kind of situation she's allowed to pass of the concern for one person to another. Fitz can worry primarily about Biana and she can worry about her parents, that way they're not trying to dart between the two. Sophie started looking into her parents for Fitz, because he wanted to be matched and she wanted to be matchable too. I'd argue that Sophie's actions, the vast majority of the time, are motivated by something to do with someone else.

So overall, Sophie can be self-centered, but it's her story and so much of it--the human experiments, the strange abilities, the Black Swan as a whole, etc.--relates directly to her in a way it does to no one else, so she's allowed to be selfish and self-centered about it and it makes sense for her to be. Is she perfect? Nope! There are instances where her involvement in things pushes others to the side, but that's not something she wants to do and she does feel bad about it, so the behavior may be remedied yet.

At least, that's my perspective on it. Of course anyone is welcome to disagree with my opinions!

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #quil's queries #kotlc character analysis #sophie foster #nonsie #the thing is. if I found out that I was the secret creation of a rebel organization and had strange powers and my parent's identities #could topple the world #uh yea i'd wanna focus on me #like excuse me? tell me everything about myself right now #yes I care about my friends but you can't expect me to just sweep all that under the rug and go on and be completely selfless about it #I think i'd be entirely justified in being selfish here #(and if i'm remembering right there are instances of her friends telling her it's okay to focus on herself. but maybe I'm fabricating that) #it's like people expect complete willing selflessness from her. which is unrealistic and unfair for any person #but those are my thoughts

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Fifty-six

Word count: 2.8k

Tw: none

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @never-mourn-the-good @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @cherryberrybitch @blossomsxgalorex

On Ao3 or below the cut!

   Another week of absolutely losing my mind as a double agent passes without much of an issue. I do get the virus sent to Gisela, but it’s taking its sweet time to work. In other  news, Keefe’s still annoying as Exile, so Fitz has been hiding here at Widgetmoor with me more and more often as the week goes on. 

    That’s exactly the case today as he doesn’t bother to text me before walking in, asking, “You’re working again?”

    I don’t take my eyes off the screen and reply, “Why is that even surprising anymore?”

    “Come on. You have to have some sort of life.”

    “I’m having a conversation with you right now. Is that not enough social interaction?”

    “No, it’s not. And social interaction isn’t the only thing that contributes to a life. When was the last time you went outside for more than five seconds?” Fitz asks. 

    “I don’t keep track of that,” I snap, mostly to avoid admitting that it’s been a while. I’m not totally sure why it bothers me so much, but I have a good guess.

    Seeing right through that flimsy disguise, Fitz replies, tiredly, “That exactly my point.”

    I save the code and turn around to face him. “What do you propose? If I get scared by a blade of grass, this is all over.”

    Fitz puts down a Magic: The Gathering deck. A white one, by the looks of it. “I really should’ve brought green because, you know, outside...but I got a new deck and now I’m forcing you to play.”

    Do I want to know how he got to the human world and bought a deck? Has he found Amazon? I don’t think Amazon can ship here.

    “Keefe got mad because you beat him one time?” I assume. 

    Fitz nods. 

    “Let me guess. He seems like a red player. Those are usually pretty fast. Ran out of cards?”

    “Yeah. A dragon red to be specific. And he got one big dragon out that I promptly Exiled. It was fun. Although I’m willing to bet he was empathing all over me the entire time.”

    “And you were telepathing to find out his cards. Seems fair to me,” I say, rummaging through Tinker’s drawers for one of my stashed Magic decks. 

    Pulling a red-blue one out, I continue, “Let’s see how it does against an Izzet deck.”

    I roll over to the side of Island in the middle of the workshop opposite Fitz, who asks, “Do you happen to have a twenty-sided die I can use for a life counter?”

    “Do you even have to ask? Of course I have more. Just sometimes I don’t know where they are.” In this case, I have only a vague idea where one is--other than the one I try to keep in the box--and it takes a few drawers before I find it. 

    I give it to him, and shuffle my deck, you know, the mildly fancy way. The way that seems like sorcery until you’ve done it a hundred thousand times or whatever. 

    “I still don’t understand how you do that,” Fitz says, holding his very-new-looking deck. 

    “Cut the deck in approximate halves,” I instruct, and he does that. “Put your thumb on one short side and the rest of your fingers on the opposite side.” 

    It takes a second, but he gets his hands into a shuffling position. 

    “Then, put your thumbs about half an inch apart and let go with your thumb slowly. You’ll speed up with practise.”

    It’s most certainly not the most elegant shuffle ever, falling in large clumps of cards. 

    “Playing more often will help,” I comment.

    “How am I supposed to do that when Keefe is impossible, Biana refuses to learn how to play for the sole reason that I want her to learn, and you’re working twenty-four/seven?”

    I shuffle my own deck. “Roll for initiative?” I ask, holding up my favourite blue twenty-sided die. 

    “Nice subject change. Also, will you shuffle for me?”

    “If you try it one more time, I will,” I reply, rolling my twenty-sided die. “Eleven.”

    Fitz shuffles messily, and gives me the deck before rolling his twenty-sided die. “Five. You go first.”

    I shuffle Fitz’s deck three times and give it back to him. “If you’re mana jammed, it’s your own fault for asking me to shuffle for you.”

    I draw my seven cards and decide to keep the two islands, a mountain, an Izzet guildgate, a goblin electromancer, a chart a course, and an opt. Four lands and three cheap spells. Overall, not a terrible hand to start. 

    “Izzet guildgate enters the battlefield tapped. Your turn.”

    Fitz draws his initial seven cards, chooses to keep them, and draws his card at the beginning of his turn. “Plains. Leonin vanguard--at the beginning of combat on your turn, if you control three or more creatures, leonin vanguard gets plus one/plus one until end of turn. And I gain a life. It’s a one/one. Can’t do anything else. Your turn.”

    I draw a lava coil, which will be four points of good direct damage when I need it. “Island, goblin electromancer. Instant and sorcery spells cost two colourless less to cast. And it’s a two/two. Your turn.”

    Fitz draws a card, stuffs it in his hand, and puts down a plains. “Two more leonins. I don’t want to mess with your goblin electromancer so I will call it your turn.”

    “Rude,” I comment, drawing another lava coil. “Mountain. Lava coil deals four damage to target creature. Also known as your favourite leonin. And then I’ve got another one because this deck is half red and I don’t have any impulse control, so another leonin is dead. And then I attack with my goblin because why not?” 

    “I’ll take the damage. Eighteen?”

    “Eighteen.” I confirm. “Then I guess it’s your turn.”

    Fitz draws a card and puts it down directly from his library. “History of Benalia. It’s am enchantment saga thingy. This round I get a two/two white knight creature token with vigilance. I guess I’ll attack with my leonin because your goblin is tapped.”

    I turn my life counter to nineteen as Fitz says, “Your turn.”

    The next card I draw is another opt. “Island. Opt. Scry one draw a card.” I draw a card, which just so happens to be a Niv-Mizzet. Probably the strongest card in my deck. I very narrowly avoid dancing. I put it into my hand, and hope I can get enough land to cast it. “Opt again.” I draw another card, this time a goblin electromancer. “I’ll keep that too. And put it down. Goblin electromancer two/two. Your turn.”

    Fitz draws a card and begins, “Benalia level two gets me another two/two white knight creature token with vigilance. And then I cast Ajani’s Pridemate. He gets plus one/plus one whenever you gain life. And it’s a two/two. Then I got a legion’s landing. Which creates a one/one white vampire creature token with lifelink and it’ll flip over if I attack with three or more creatures. Your turn.”  

    “Is that all?” I ask sarcastically before drawing a dive down. Looking sadly at my chart a course, I say, “I’d rather not do anything this turn. Your turn.” 

    “Someone doesn’t have enough mana to do what he wants?” Fitz asks, drawing a card, and putting down a plains. “Benalia level three gives knights plus two/plus one until end of turn so I am going to go attack with everyone.” 

     “I’ll block both knight tokens with my goblin electromancers. Mine die yours are completely fine.” 

    “Five damage. And I’ll get two life from the leonin plus the vampire lifelink. This gives Ajani’s pridemate a plus one/plus one counter. And legion’s landing flips into Adanto, the first fort. It’s a white land or if you pay three and tap, you create a one/one white vampire token with lifelink. Your turn.” 

    I turn my life counter down to fourteen. “You’re good? No more triggered abilities?” I draw a card, which is an island that I immediately put down. “I am absolutely terrified but it’s your turn.” 

    Fitz draws a card, and I can tell he’s planning something. “I’m going to use Adanto, the first fort to make a vampire token and then attack with everyone because you have no creatures.” 

    “That’s because you just killed both of them last turn,” I remind him. “How much damage?” 

    Fitz touches each of his creatures in turn as he counts, “two, four, six, nine, ten. Ten damage. And two life.” He adds that to his life counter. “Ajani’s pridemate gets another plus one/plus one counter too. Your turn.” 

    With those ten damage, I am down to four, and my fate is pretty much sealed. But I draw an island, which goes onto the battlefield after a moment of celebration, because I can finally cast Niv-Mizzet and attempt to save myself. “Niv-Mizzet, Parun. Flying, this spell can’t be countered. Whenever you draw a card, Niv deals one damage to any target. Whenever a player casts an instant or sorcery, you may draw a card. And it’s a five/five.” I pause. “Your turn.” 

    Fitz draws a card and says, “This is very blue. Sorry not sorry.” 

    I only have a moment to fear for Niv before Fitz casts, “Conclave tribunal. Exile target nonland permanent an opponent controls until it leaves the battlefield. Begone, Niv-Mizzet.” 

    I look down angrily at dive down, with its hexproof until end of turn that could have saved Niv as I put it into Exile. 

    One more mana and I could have saved myself. Exile. 

    “Attack with all of your creatures and I am sure I am very dead,” I say for Fitz. 

    He still takes pleasure in counting, “two, four, six, ten, eleven, twelve. Yeah, you’re right.” 

    “Thanks,” I say monotonously, already gathering my cards into a pile to reshuffle. “Best out of three?” 

    “What happened to Mr. Workaholic that was here fifteen minutes ago?” Fitz asks. 

    “He’s been replaced by Mr. Competitive and he is very ready to grind you and your deck into a pulp.”

    Fitz looks at me, smirking, and attempts once again to shuffle his cards the fancy way before just dividing them into piles. I take them from him and shuffle because that method takes three years.

    We play another game, where I have to go first, and I am fairly sure that I die even faster than the first game. 

    “Best out of five?” Fitz suggests. 

    Disproportionately angry, I snap, “Not with that deck you won’t.”

    “Aw, what happened?”

    “That deck is evil and if it mysteriously disappears, I had nothing to do with it.”

    Fitz smiles. “Yeah, sure, you didn’t.” 

    I glare at him. 

    He gives it a whole second before asking, “So what now?” 

    “Back to work for me, I guess.” 

    “That’s no fun. Can I do anything to help?” 

    “Depends. Have you manifested as a Technopath in the past, like, week, and neglected to tell me? You’ve been here pretty much the entire time so there was most certainly an opportunity.” 

    “I’m going to go with highly doubtful.”

     “Work on your shuffling technique if you get too bored,” I say, turning back around. 

    I can hear him attempt to shuffle and it’s still not down to science after four tries. What am I going to do with him? 

    I unplug my headphones, so Fitzy doesn’t have to sit in silence, and put my Disney playlist on shuffle, angrily curated through too many hours of looking through official Disney soundtracks. 

    The first one up is Be Prepared from The Lion King, and, well, I’m automatically happier. Pretty much anything from the Disney Renaissance in the nineteen nineties has that effect on me. 

    After some length of time, during which my only accomplishment is losing track of time, Fitz complains, “My cards are bending.” 

    “Flip them over. Bend them in the opposite direction,” I reply. 

    Now distracted, I have to go and check my email. Because we’re lucky if I don’t check it every five minutes some days. 

    Godzilla has sent me an email, and I curse, hands already starting to shake. 

    “What did I do this time?” Fitz asks. 

    “It’s not you. Godzilla’s planning something big. Just got a gigantic email. Lots of specs.” 

    Fitz swears. “This is Technopath stuff. You know I’m going to ask a dumb question.” 

    “Just give me one second. I’m trying to read.” I close my eyes after a paragraph. “Please tell me that Godzilla doesn’t know where Keefe is. Please.” 

    “You, me, Biana, and Keefe are the only ones who know where he is. You better not have been the one to tell her.” 

    “I wouldn’t do that!” I snap. 

    “Why would I know what you have and haven’t told them?” 

    “It wouldn’t be something important like Keefe’s location! I wouldn’t make him live in your closet if I was just going to go tell every random person on the street where he is!” 

     “Telling them that you’re gay isn’t important enough to not tell people?” 

     “You’ve always said you were fine with it! And I had to build their trust somehow! The Black Swan becoming more and more like the council isn’t good enough to be my only reason. ” 

    “That isn’t exactly incorrect though.” 

    “Wait. You’ve actually noticed that?” I ask incredulously. 

    “I’m not as oblivious as I used to be, you know. The whole Alvar situation dealt with a lot of that.”

    “And I thank you for that. Not being a stuck up Vacker anymore.” 

    Fitz smiles. 

    After a moment, he asks, “What do you have to build for Keefe?” 

    “What is it called or what does it look like at half a glance? Because it’s very obviously a pathetic attempt to not trust me with information. It looks like an ability amplifier. Like Sophie, but a gadget. I can’t really blame her for not trusting me, though.” 

    “Wait, the Neverseen didn’t do something absurdly stupid for once?”

    I look at him, wanting to smile. “It’s designed super super similarly to my ability restrictor. I might be wrong in this, so fair warning, but I’m pretty sure the only people who got my diagram of that were the Council.”

    “That means...that would actually make a lot of strategic sense. The easiest way to bring down the Council would be from the inside. Can our resident Regent Dex help with that at all?”

    “I can’t just call all of the Councillors at my every whim. I’m not Sophie. I can maybe get Noland and Clarette if I’m lucky.”

    “That’s a start. And while we’re at it, I don’t think Bronte or Oralie would be a member of the Neverseen.”

   “Or Darek,” I add, not thinking it through. 

    Of course, Fitz has to ask, “Why him?”

    “I’m really sorry. You don’t have that clearance. But I trust him enough. Mostly because if he betrays that trust, as Marella said, be gay do crimes will become literal. And, on a sort of related note, Bronte and Fintan used to date so use that information as you will.”

    “Why do you know these things? And, you said ‘used to’. Do you happen to have if or when they broke up stored in your brain somewhere?”

    “One. I’m gay, and elves around here are very closeted while also desperately wanting to talk about gay things. It all comes with the territory. Two. No clue but I’d like to google search my own brain just in case. I don’t think Fintan would be rotting in his prison cell if he could just call Bronte to get him out of there.

    “Okay that’s fair. Any more relevant non-Technopath details of the email?”

    “If you’re asking where and when Godzilla will be using this, the answer is I have no clue. I can probably try to buy us some time because I can set the timeline. No device, no evil plans. I can maybe get a week. Give Sophie--and the useless Black Swan I guess--a second to figure out what we should do.”

    “I really don’t know if you’ve heard this, or if it’s actually relevant, but Foxfire’s going to be opening up again next Monday.”

    “That’s a good way to get a lot of people together. And with Keefe’s already powerful new ability plus an amplifier, you have to know it isn’t going to be good. And even if I mess up the device on purpose, Gisela still knows how to use blackmail. There’s no getting ourselves out of this.”

   “You’re such an optimist,” Fitz says sarcastically. 

    “Wonderboy, I think we’ve been through enough by now to expect the worst.”

    “Do you want me to go hail Sophie? Have her get people together to discuss what we should do this time?”

    “Yeah,” I say, turning back around to my computer. “Just in the other room if you don’t mind.”

    He heads into the other room, and the muffled sound of conversation can be heard through the wall. 

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic #this is an mtg chapter but it does have some plot relevance okay #i'm not just providing adorable filler #look at that anachronism i'm so good at this

[random-writerings]

Touch Me (Til I Find Myself) ~ Chapter 9

Word Count: 4.6k

Masterlist // AO3

The team gathered in the containment pod, waiting for Enoch to release it from the Zephyr. 

“Are you sure this thing is safe?” Deke asked.

“We’ll be fine,” Jemma assured him. “It’s been through worse.”

Once they were separated from Z-One, Fitz navigated the pod towards the Lighthouse, docking outside one of Kasius’ levels. The doors opened, revealing the corridor in almost complete darkness, lit only by red lights. This level was nicer than the human levels – there were no exposed pipes or uneven floors. Instead, this corridor was much cleaner, with smooth white walls that didn’t have a mark on them. 

And it was silent. The human levels had been overcrowded and noisy, but this corridor was deserted. The Lighthouse had been ominous before but this made Kris feel even more uneasy.

Everyone exited cautiously, using their torches to scan the surrounding area.

“All clear,” Daisy announced as Deke closed the containment pod doors.

“Hopefully we can say the same for Enoch,” Fitz added.

Enoch had stayed behind on the Zephyr in order to power up the machine to send them home. He had hidden himself in the lab after ensuring the team’s escape, suspecting that the Kree would search the ship.

Just then, Coulson’s radio crackled.

“The diversion seems to have worked,” Enoch’s robotic voice came through. “They’re still searching the ship.”

“Good,” Coulson replied. “You’re secure?”

“Yes. The machine will be online by the time Flint builds the monolith.”

“Easier said than done.” Coulson sighed.

They continued down the corridor, carefully checking around corners for any Kree. Fitz held one half of the shard tightly in his hand.

“So, one more time,” Deke said. “The machine uses the little piece to trigger the bigger piece through space?”

“Yeah, or time,” Fitz replied shortly.

“It mirrors the harmonic resonant frequency of photons which can exist out of space-time,” Jemma explained more thoroughly. 

“Yeah, I hear you saying words, but what–what do they –” Deke stuttered, only to be interrupted by Daisy.

“If Flint can’t construct the monolith, none of this matters.”

“Robin said he can,” May insisted, “so I believe it.”

“He’s just a kid, May,” Kris reminded her. “He only got his powers recently. He might not have the right amount of control or the strength to build something out of nothing.”

“We’ll talk him through it once we meet them,” Jemma reassured.

“You two get that thing to Flint,” Coulson addressed Fitzsimmons. “We’ll worry about survivors –”

“And kill Kasius,” Deke added. 

“– Get them to safety.”

“And then we kill Kasius?” Deke insisted. “When does that happen? Because some of us aren’t getting out of here on a magic rock.”

All of the horrible things Kris had heard about Kasius flashed through her mind – enslaving people and removing their hearing, breeding Inhumans and making them fight each other, then selling them to the highest bidder, buying the Roaches to keep the humans under control, sending people to the surface to die, public executions, the Renewals, the bombs in the oxygen supply that Mack had told them about … the list went on and on. They had to take him out to ensure humanity’s survival.

“He’s right,” Kris chimed in. “We can’t leave while Kasius is still alive.”

“We won’t leave until humanity is in control of its future,” Coulson promised. “But, in the meantime, everyone do your job. Then meet at the rendezvous point.”

Fitzsimmons nodded and left, going to meet Mack, Yo-Yo, and Flint. The rest of them went down another corridor, determined to free the Inhumans Kasius had imprisoned. 

~~~

Four Kree guards marched down the corridor, surrounding a group of young Inhumans. The team hid, waiting to ambush them. As the group approached, Coulson nodded to Deke, who rounded the corner and shot the guard at the front in the chest.

May appeared from behind, stabbing another guard in the back. Coulson shot another guard with an ICER Fitz had given him, while Daisy ducked an axe swing from another.

The guard Deke had shot stayed standing, charging at him. Kris darted out from behind Deke, tackling the alien and causing him to stumble back a few steps. Kris yanked the massive gun from his hands and beat him over the head with it. While the Kree was knocked off balance, she aimed the gun at him and shot him again. He crumpled to the ground, collapsing in a heap. Behind her, Daisy violently bashed her opponent’s head against the wall while Coulson encouraged the Inhumans to escape.

“Let’s go! Go, go, go!” He waved his hand, urging the Inhumans to follow him. “Get the Inhumans to the Trawler!”

May ushered the Inhumans in the right direction, joining Deke and Kris at the back of the group. Kris dropped the Kree gun, letting it clatter beside the guard's body. It was too heavy to carry around and too bulky to work with her fighting style.

“Guns, man!” Deke’s voice was filled with excitement. “It’s like cheating! They shouldn’t give these to anyone that’s not a really, really good person.”

“You think there’d be a law,” May muttered sarcastically, making Kris chuckle. 

The three of them followed the Inhumans. Kris heard Coulson shout for Daisy, his tone urgent. She turned to see Coulson raising his gun at some guy charging at Daisy. May grabbed her arm, pulling her forward.

“He’s human. They can handle it,” she reminded Kris.

They made their way through the Lighthouse, Deke leading the group with Kris just behind him, and May bringing up the rear. Deke had his gun out, clearly trying to copy the way the agents held their guns. But he was waving it around a little bit too wildly for Kris’ taste. 

“Alright, give me that.” She snatched it from his grasp. 

“Hey, come on,” he protested.

“Remember what I said about caution and restraint? You are far too trigger-happy and definitely not practising proper gun safety.”

“So, you’re leaving me defenceless against the Kree? You know, the aliens that are bigger and stronger than the average human?”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic.” Kris rolled her eyes. “As tempting as that may seem, no. You’ll get it back if we run into danger. Until then, it’s confiscated so you don’t accidentally kill someone.”

“‘Tempting’? You’re tempted to leave me at the mercy of the Kreepers?” Deke pretended to be offended. “How heartless. And after all the good times we’ve shared together.”

Kris’ head whipped around to glare at him. May was close behind them and could have overheard him. And if he was referring to what she thought he was …

He saw her expression and sighed. “Joking,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “Just watch it.” The threat in her voice was unmistakable.

Eventually, they reached the docking station where another Trawler was waiting for them. May and Kris helped the Inhumans on board, assuring them they were safe now. 

When Kris noticed Deke was no longer with them, she turned to see him standing with … Tess? Kris’ eyes widened – it couldn’t be her. Surely not.

“I heard you were dead,” Deke breathed, astounded. Tess nervously played with her hands, avoiding looking at him. “You look good for … dead. I mean … You don’t look great, but you – I mean, you’ve been through something, but –” Deke stumbled over his words, trying to reassure Tess.

“It’s good to see you too, Deke,” Tess cut him off, smiling slightly. 

Deke smiled back. They stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say next. Deke gave her a small nod and then joined the team by the ladder. Kris saw Coulson talking to Tess. Of course he would. If anyone understood what she was going through, it was him. Being brought back from the dead wasn’t a pleasant experience, or so she had heard.

Deke kept glancing back at Tess, as if unsure she was really there. 

“You don’t have to come to the rendezvous point with us, you know,” Kris reminded him. “You can stay here, leave with them.” She gestured down the ladder to the people in the Trawler. 

Deke glanced down as one of Kasius’ servants descended. There was a hint of longing in his eyes, as if he was considering it. But then it was gone, replaced with resolve. 

“No. My dad died making sure you guys got here. I have to make sure you get back. Finish what he started.”

Kris admired his determination, but she wasn't comfortable with Deke putting himself in harm's way to help them – there was always the chance he might not make it out, and she really didn't need that on her conscience.  Kris opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted.

“Okay, the Trawler’s almost ready,” Daisy announced as she left the hangar. “We should get to the rendezvous.”

“You okay flying them up to the human levels?” May asked Tess.

“I’ve been watching enough to manage on my own,” Tess said confidently. “I’ll be back for Flint, and anyone else coming up.” Her eyes darted behind Coulson to Deke.

“Good.” Coulson smiled. “Now get out of here.”

Tess smiled back then hopped up into the hangar. As Coulson was about to close the doors, she turned to him.

“You were right. We can fight back.”

Kris was glad Tess was back, even if her resurrection had been unpleasant. She would make a good leader – organised, cool-headed, and authoritative when she needed to be. Humanity would be in safe hands with Tess and Flint.

~~~

They made it to the rendezvous point but Fitzsimmons, Mack, Yo-Yo, and Flint hadn’t arrived yet. The room was silent, the air thick with tension as they waited.

Suddenly, the radio crackled to life. 

“Hello again,” Enoch’s calm voice echoed in the quiet room. “They have located me. Repeat, they have located me.”

Coulson picked up the radio. “We copy. You sure they found you?”

“The evidence is highly suggestive.” Enoch’s voice remained emotionless, completely unbothered by the fact that their whole plan was on the brink of ruin. Kris was starting to hate him more and more.

“We never should have left him alone.” Coulson sighed.

“We’re here forever if he loses control of that machine,” May stated. 

“Goddamn it,” Kris muttered defeatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Enoch, how long can you hold out?” Coulson asked, panic seeping into his voice.

There was a pause before Enoch replied. “I calculate twelve minutes.”

May shook her head and sighed.

“What?” Daisy asked disbelievingly. “That is not enough time. That machine activates a monolith we haven’t even built yet.”

“We have to go secure the Zephyr,” May suggested. 

“It’s too far away,” Kris chimed in. “We won’t make it there and back in time.”

“Oh, damn it. Really?” Deke groaned. “We had to leave the machine in the hands of some automaton?”

Kris and Daisy crossed their arms and frowned at him.

“Hey, none of us were exactly thrilled at the idea,” Kris retorted. “You were the one who told us the Kree can scan for lifeforms onboard. He was the only one who could be left behind and not be detected.”

“Yeah, well, this whole thing was a shitty idea! I knew the moment that I laid eyes on all of you that this was going to spell my downfall.” He paced around, sighing. 

“Hey, no one asked you to stick around,” Kris reminded him harshly. “In fact, we made it pretty clear we wanted you to get lost.”

“You were the ones following me around!” Deke gestured at her and Daisy.

“Because we didn’t trust you to keep your mouth shut,” Kris countered. 

“God, I hate you,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Look, I’ll go.” He held out his hand towards Kris, palm up. “But I’d rather not walk in there unarmed.”

Kris hesitated, unsure if he was serious. He raised his eyebrows at her impatiently and she relented. She pulled out the gun that she had stashed in her belt and, turning it to face her, handed it over grip first. He took it while the others watched, stunned.

“I’ll secure the machine and … save the weird robot.” He sounded defeated.

Coulson and Daisy exchanged a glance.

“Well, I’ll come,” Daisy offered. “It’d be better if we take the plane together.”

“Yeah. No duh!” Deke said sarcastically. “But, as Kris said, none of the time-travellers can go because you all need to be at the rendezvous when it’s turned on. So, do the math.”

“You’re one guy against the Kree,” Coulson interjected. “You’ll be massively out-gunned.”

Deke opened his arms wide. “Kinda trying to do the whole hero thing here, man. Is that your pep talk?” 

Kris almost smiled at his sarcasm. Deke had a point – it was a pretty shit pep talk. 

Deke sighed. “You guys get killed, and who saves the world then? I told my parents not to believe in this Roach-crap fairy tale, and they went and they died for it anyway. And I’m probably next in line.” His voice was strained, holding back his emotions. “But there is no way in hell that I am gonna let some blue Kreeper destroy that machine before I get to see whether or not that damn thing was worth any of this!”

Deke tried to walk off but Daisy stopped him. “Look, I’m sure you put up a good fight. But if my ride home depends on that machine, I’m gonna secure it myself.”

“You-you drive me out of my skull,” Deke said through gritted teeth. “This part of you – this impetuous, bull-headed, squabbling –” “I was offering backup, genius,” Daisy yelled.

“No, when the other side of you is a friggin’ hero who can’t help herself but do good, then be great. The world needs that person to make it home.” There was a pause as Deke’s words sunk in. Kris thought that was the first time he had ever complimented Daisy. “Just try not to destroy it when you get there.” And the Deke they knew was back.

“Deke’s right,” Kris cut in. “I can’t believe I keep saying that, but he is. You’re Quake, you’re a hero. You’re a symbol people can get behind and the world needs that. You have to go back. I don’t.”

“Hang on, what?” Daisy asked incredulously. 

“And besides,” Kris continued, ignoring her. “Kasius wants you – you’d be walking straight into a trap. However, he doesn’t know or care about me so I’m the best option to provide Deke with backup. Because let’s be honest, he’s really going to need it.”

“Rude.” Deke made a face at her.

“Kris, if you don’t make it back to the monolith –” May started, but Kris interrupted.

“Who cares? If I’m being honest, this is maybe a bit of a selfish decision. I have a better chance of survival if I stay here.” She avoided Daisy’s gaze as she said that, knowing it would hurt her friend’s feelings. “And there are untrained Inhumans here. S.H.I.E.L.D. tried every method of controlling Inhuman powers with me, so I could help them. And I have the knowledge of the way things were before the apocalypse, so I can help humanity find its future.” She turned to Coulson with pleading eyes. “I can do some good.”

“What about the good you can do back home?” he asked. “What about the people you can save there?”

“Sir, I might not survive –”

“We won’t let that happen,” Coulson promised her. “We need to stick together. It’s the only way we’ll be able to fix this.”

Kris opened her mouth to argue but Deke spoke up first.

“Yeah, no offence, but I kinda want the glory of a heroic self-sacrifice all to myself.” He grinned at her. “Besides, I can’t wait to be rid of you. You’ve been hanging around me from the moment we met so, just this once, leave me the hell alone.”

Just like in Grill’s, even though he was coming across as arrogant and selfish, Kris recognised that he was trying to help her. She debated with herself for a moment – she didn’t want to stay in this post-apocalyptic future but she still thought it was the best course of action. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught May and Coulson glancing at each other. She knew that look – they weren’t going to let her go back to the Zephyr. 

She sighed, giving in. “Fine, go and get yourself killed. See if I care.”

Deke rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Thank god you’re leaving. You’re insufferable, all of you.”

“It was almost nice knowing you,” Daisy retorted as Deke walked away. 

“Can’t wait to never see you again,” Kris called after him.

“This has been the worst experience of my life,” he shouted over his shoulder. “So, good riddance.”

“God, you are still the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

He turned to give her one last playfully exasperated look. “And you’re still a giant pain in my ass.”

Then he rounded the corner and he was gone. Hopefully for good this time. 

There was a small part of her, though, that thought she might actually miss him. A very, very small part. 

No, he had done nothing but annoy her since they met, she reminded herself. She was glad to see the back of him. 

~~~

May, Coulson, and Kris stood guard as Daisy fixed the elevator panel. It was eerily silent and they were all on edge. They had left the rendezvous when the others hadn’t shown up, and decided to head straight to Kasius’ suites where Flint would build the monolith. They just hoped the others were there already.

“How we looking?” Coulson asked.

“Almost done,” Daisy replied, her face screwed up in concentration. 

The panel beeped faintly and the screen which Daisy had removed lit up. She tapped a few buttons and the elevator doors opened.

“All set,” she announced. “Express train to the bottom of the Lighthouse, no stops.”

“Right to the belly of the beast,” May added.

They walked inside, unsure of what to expect but preparing for a fight.

But Daisy hesitated.

“Daisy,” Coulson addressed her, “can’t waste time.”

Daisy glanced between them all, then back at Coulson with a determined look in her eyes.

“I’m not coming,” she stated simply.

Coulson exchanged a glance with May then stepped towards Daisy. “I know you’re scared about going home –”

“No, I’m terrified. Look around. Billions of people, gone. If there’s a chance I’m the cause … I can’t go.” Her voice was quiet as she shook her head.

May stepped forward. “We can get through this together. You don’t even have your powers anymore.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Daisy argued, “and you know it. If there’s an emergency or if one of you is in danger, I will need them, and we will find a way. If I go through that portal, you know it’s the beginning of the end.” She avoided looking at Kris as she said that.

“I don’t,” Coulson countered. “We don’t even know you did this.”

“I was right in the epicentre.”

“Coulson’s right,” Kris interjected. “We don’t know for sure that you did this.” Daisy opened her mouth to argue but Kris carried on. “There was someone else, remember? In that news report, they mentioned another powered person. It could have been them –”

“You don’t actually believe that? Like Deke said, who else could have done this except me?”

“You can’t stay here,” Kris insisted. “You have to come back with us.”

“You, of all people, should want to stay as far away from me as possible!” Daisy exclaimed. 

“Well, I don’t,” Kris retorted. “You’re my friend, Daisy. And I am not leaving you behind.”

“None of us are,” Coulson added. “I won’t let you sacrifice yourself because you’re scared of what’s to come.”

“What’s to come is the end of everything!” Daisy replied harshly.

“If you can change the future here, you can change it from back home,” May insisted. 

“But we know this solution works,” Daisy argued, almost pleading with them. “We can stop this today.”

“No, it’s not about today,” Coulson said. “It’s about tomorrow. Even if we solve this problem, the world is never safe. The job goes on. We go on.” There was a pause as he stared at Daisy, his eyes desperate for her to change her mind. “Please.” 

But Daisy was not backing down “Maybe I don’t go with you. You know it's the right move. Coulson, as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., you trained me to fight. Now I’m making my stand … here.”

“May trained you to fight,” Coulson replied, turning away. Then he suddenly turned around again. “I need you to lead.”

Coulson shot Daisy with the ICER. She thudded to the floor while May and Kris stared, frozen in shock.

Coulson walked over to Daisy, put his gun away then picked her up gently, carrying her into the elevator with them. He looked between May and Kris like he was daring them to say something. Neither of them did. 

Kris tapped the panel on the wall and the doors closed, sending them down further into Kasius’ levels.

~~~

They entered Kasius’ suites where Mack, Jemma, Fitz, and Flint were already waiting for them. Another girl was with them, dressed in the light blue robes of Kasius’ servants. 

“What happened?” Jemma asked, concerned for Daisy.

“He ICE’d her,” May replied coldly. “She didn’t want to come.”

“I’m not leaving anyone behind,” Coulson insisted as he laid Daisy down on a table.

“Where’s Yo-Yo?” Mack asked. “She didn’t find you?”

Kris shook her head. “We haven’t seen her.”

“She’s not with you?” Coulson asked.

“No, she was picking up some survivors. She should be back by now.”

The team shot each other worried glances.

“She’ll make it back,” Coulson assured them all. “She’s strong.”

Mack picked up his shotgun axe and started towards the corridor.

“Hurry,” Coulson urged him. “Who knows when that portal’s gonna open.”

May headed over to Flint while Jemma stayed by Daisy’s side. 

“You’re Flint?” May asked him. 

He turned around to face her and nodded. “Yes.” 

May smiled at him. “You’re going to get us home.”

He smiled back at her. “Yes. I am.”

“Good.” The smile dropped off her face and she was back to being serious May. “What are you waiting for?”

She stepped away and Flint turned back to stare at the monolith shard in his hands. Kris felt for him – this was a lot to put on his shoulders so soon after he received his powers. She watched him shut his eyes and take a deep breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the shard floated out of his hand, coming to a stop a few feet in front of him. It hovered there, above a pile of rocks, waiting.

The rest of the team looked up, intrigued by what was happening. The rocks also began to float, moving closer to the shard. White limestone was removed from the walls, the thin clouds of dust flowing through the air towards the shard. The rocks connected with each other seamlessly, slowly building up the monolith they had seen before. 

Once it was complete, they all stared in awe. Kris walked up to Flint, patting him on the shoulder.

“Nice work, kid. You’re a natural.”

“Thanks.” Flint smiled, almost surprised at himself.

Coulson grabbed the radio. “Deke, come in.”

“Yeah, we’re here,” came Deke’s reply.

“We got the monolith built,” Coulson informed him. “I think it might work. How’s the machine coming?”

There was a pause, then Deke answered him. “It’s great. We found a fix for the machine.” His tone was upbeat but something didn’t feel right.

“Good. You were right about taking the Zephyr.”

“Just make sure everyone’s in place the second we get it powered on, alright? We’re only gonna get one shot at this.”

“Right.” Coulson’s voice was low. “You know, your parents would be proud of you.”

Another long pause. “Well, we’re about to give them a hell of a show.”

Kris thought that was a weird thing to say until she realised what he meant. Her eyes widened.

“Thanks. We’ll have everyone in place.” Coulson turned away from the monolith to face the team, turning off the radio. “That machine’s gonna explode. It’s not safe down here.” He spoke to Flint and the girl in particular.

“What?” Flint looked around at them. 

“You’re welcome to come back with us, but if not, you got to leave now,” Coulson told him. “Meet Tess at the Trawler.”

“Where? Which one?” the girl asked, panic seeping into her voice.

“But Mack, Yo-Yo … they’re not back yet,” Flint worried. He looked around them like he was hoping they had a plan. But they didn’t. Either Mack and Yo-Yo made it back in time or they didn’t. There wasn’t much else they could do.

Flint sighed then looked up at Coulson. “Tell them I had more work to do.”

Coulson nodded and Flint took the girl’s hand, leading her away to rejoin the rest of humanity.

“Come on. I know the way.”

The girl thanked them before they hurried off. Then Jemma approached Coulson.

“Coulson, what’s happening?” she asked.

“Where are they?” he asked in return, referring to Mack and Yo-Yo. If anyone knew, it would be Jemma – she had spent the most time down here.

Jemma thought for a moment, then it suddenly occurred to her. “I know where they are.”

“Go.” Coulson nodded.

Jemma ran off and Kris started to follow her but Coulson stopped her.

“Not you.”

“Sir –”

“Too many of us are missing. I’m trying to keep as many here as possible.”

Kris relented, but she wasn’t happy about it.

“What about Deke?” she asked. “We can’t leave him in the Zephyr. He’ll die.” Coulson didn’t say anything. “We have to wait as long as possible before firing up the machine. He deserves a chance to escape with everyone else.”

“He might not make it to the Trawler in time,” Coulson said. “We can’t delay their take off for one person.”

“And none of us can rescue him without being left behind or, worse, killed in the explosion,” May chimed in.

“We can’t just let him die without trying to help him. That’s not how we do things.” Kris frowned. 

“It sounds like he knows what’s going to happen,” Coulson said quietly. “He’s made his choice and we should respect that.”

“Guys, we got a problem,” Deke’s voice crackled on the radio.

Coulson picked it up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m using Enoch to power the machine, but I’m losing him. You gotta launch now.”

“What?” Fitz snatched the radio from Coulson. “No, Deke, it’s too early. The team isn’t back yet.” He paused. “Enoch. Enoch, buddy, hang on. I know that you’ve done so much already, but please, please just hang on.”

“Guys, I’m buying as much time as I can here!” Deke sounded panicked. 

“The rock’s gonna open,” May radioed Jemma. “Get here now!” 

“I always knew that working with you guys was gonna blow up in my face!” Deke yelled. “But it’s about to get literal!”

Coulson picked up Daisy and the team gathered in front of the rock, anxiously checking the door behind them for any sign of the others.

“You know she’ll never forgive you, right?” May asked Coulson.

He glanced down at Daisy, still unconscious. “I have to hope.”

“We’re losing him! I’m out of time!”

The rock began to shake. Then a bright light blinded them as the monolith turned to white liquid. Kris threw her arm over her eyes to shield them as she felt the liquid wash over her ankles, dragging her under. 

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