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the-widow-sisters · 1 year

Note

Hello!!

Could it be one where we see Kate demonstrate some talent that she has hidden from everyone and is accidentally discovered by Darcy?

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this request!!! 😊💕

Gosh, I'm sorry I've been gone from this fandom for so long! I've been seriously lacking in inspiration for anything lately 😅 No matter how hard I try, nothing in terms of writing has been working for me too well regardless of the fandom😬

Idk, hopefully I haven't lost my touch! This felt a little weird when I was writing it, but it was kind of lighthearted and fun, so hopefully it worked well! And maybe it could classify as Halloween-ish? Like they are dressing up, so... 🤷♀️

Btw, if I do much else anytime soon in the way of writing for this fandom right now, it’ll probably be slow, so y’all just be warned, lol 😅

I hope y'all enjoy! 😊💕

Word Count: 2866

When Darcy had tracked Kate via FRIDAY’s emergency tracking system for the Avengers that triangulated their cell phone coordinates, Darcy herself breaking a ton of rules in utilizing it without true emergency, she had truly not expected to follow Kate and find her doing this of all things.

Throughout last week, Kate had not really had much time to hang out, and Darcy had been busy as well. The both of them had been really wanting to spend time with one another, but their schedules had just not lined up at all.

However, this was all fine until Darcy managed to get some time this week for several days. The first time was in the early afternoon, and she had caught Kate heading out of the compound. She had been confused, but when Kate assured her that she was very busy and had to go to something important, she had been somewhat willing to let it go.

But when Kate had not been able to really tell her what those important things that she had to do actually were, Darcy had quickly grown suspicious. The next day, Kate had left at about the same time, and her excuse had been just as flimsy and unstructured. After the third day of Kate’s mysterious disappearances at the same time of day, Darcy was ready to get to the bottom of things.

Which was how she ended up here in Central Park, currently looking upon the most horrifically terrifying battle that she had ever witnessed.

She had managed to get through the fray as best as she could, stepping over bodies. And when she had finally managed to find Kate and get near enough to her, she called out loudly.

“Kate?!”

Kate froze in the midst of stabbing someone, the person falling over with a loud cry, and she gaped at Darcy for a solid minute.

“Darcy?!” Kate yelped, and Darcy looked around the battlefield slowly, taking it all in. Kate sputtered for just a moment before finally speaking up.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” Kate cried out desperately, her eyes ridiculously wide. Darcy just furrowed her brow, narrowing her eyes a little as she looked at the insanity taking place around them.

“You broke character!!!” the guy she had freshly killed accused loudly, and Kate jumped out of her skin, looking down at the person and shouting a quick apology.

“Sorry!!!” Kate yelped, and Darcy looked at her uncertainly as Kate cleared her throat and straightened a bit in an attempt to seemingly recollect her sense of character. She then hardened her gaze and pointed the absurd foam sword at Darcy as if it were actually truly threatening. It was well-made, but it was still obvious foam given the slightly blunt end on it.

“This, peasant, is not what it appears!” Kate declared boldly, and Darcy just raised an eyebrow.

“So you’re not out here LARPing like all the rest of these fruitcakes?” Darcy asked, and Kate paused for a moment before laughing somewhat nervously.

“Well… It might kind of be what it looks like,” Kate admitted. However, just as she uttered her statement, one of the crazies came up behind her with a foam axe. Before Darcy could even make a move to point to them or say anything, Kate turned quickly and stabbed them in the side under their arm. They cried out dramatically and fell to the ground.

Darcy huffed in surprise. Kate was honestly amazingly good at this, and Darcy had not even been there long enough to see her fully in action.

“Wow…”

“Yeah… Probably an inefficient use of my combat skills, but it’s fun, so why not?” Kate somewhat breathlessly told her, and Darcy nodded slowly, not sure how to react but finding it quite entertaining that Kate was this into it. She herself did not want any part of it and was honestly creeped out by the other people on some level, but she was happy that Kate was happy.

“Hey! No interrupting unless you’re going to join!” one of the people nearby declared, hurrying over to Darcy where she was standing on the sidelines. Kate looked at the woman in surprise, and Darcy raised her hands.

“No worries! I was just—”

“About to sign in!” Kate quickly interrupted her, and Darcy looked at her as if she had lost her mind. If Kate seriously thought that Darcy was about to participate in all of this insanity, then she definitely had lost her mind.

The woman immediately raised her eyebrows, and she nodded happily.

“Alright, then. Come on this way,” she beckoned, starting to walk off to the nearby tent.

Darcy narrowed her eyes before looking at Kate quickly.

“Look, hear me out—"

“Hear you out?! Have you lost your mind?! I’m a scientist, not a LARPer!!!” Darcy cried, whisper-yelling, and Kate shook her head as she tried to explain herself.

“No, no, no, look, it could be fun! We could spend time together like we’ve been trying to do this whole week!” Kate told her, and Darcy furrowed her brow.

“Look, I’ve been trying to get time to have coffee and talk or watch a movie together, but I did not sign up to come to a place where a bunch of middle-aged people that are way too old to be doing this and should be getting jobs are out here slapping each other with glorified pool noodles!” Darcy cried, somewhat running out of breath in the midst of her rant.

Kate shook her head, stepping just a little closer as she lowered her voice just enough so that she was not necessarily speaking at a volume where very many people could overhear.

“These people have jobs. Most are policemen and firemen, and we’ve even got veterans here coming in on the fun. It’s just a fun hobby,” Kate explained, and as they stood there for a moment, Kate suddenly squinted a little, studying Darcy carefully, and Darcy uncomfortably looked back at her, worrying about what Kate was thinking.

“You’re scared,” Kate suddenly declared, and Darcy’s eyes widened, Kate seeing right through her.

It was unfortunately true. Even though this was a ridiculous fest of insanity, something in her just was terrified of the thought of insane cosplayers running at her. While their weapons could not hurt her, she definitely did not want to be crushed by them or something.

Plus, who really knew how far they would take their cosplaying? She had even seen something on her way there that looked a lot like an authentic guillotine replica that they must have put together. The last thing she wanted to do was become one of the roleplay execute-ees.

But nevertheless, she knew how ridiculous it would likely sound out loud, especially to Kate who was so obviously immersed in this insanity, and she did not want to look stupid or weird.

“No! No, I’m not! I’ve faced portals and an insane dark elf man and never flinched,” Darcy proudly proclaimed, and Kae laughed incredulously with a wide grin.

“You’re totally scared,” Kate pointed out, far too pleased with herself for her discovery.

“I’m totally not scared! I’m—”

Kate suddenly moved forward, pushing her shoulder as she shoved her out of the way and sliced with her foam sword across a man’s throat. He fell to the ground with a loud cry of dramatized anguish, and he just laid there.

Darcy’s eyes were wide, and Kate looked back at her with a grin.

“I’ve got to get back to the battle. But seriously… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about this, and that I hid it from you. It’s a little embarrassing to tell people because they don’t usually understand,” Kate admitted, and Darcy felt her chest squeeze a little for the girl.

“And you don’t have to sign up but… at least consider it maybe? It really is fun,” Kate told her with a lopsided grin and that sweet glint in her eyes that she had when she wanted something but was not going to ask for it in favor of making the other person comfortable.

As Kate turned to go and reengage in battle, Darcy groaned deeply, rolling her eyes. She looked down at the guy lying falsely dead at her feet and she sighed tiredly.

“Wanna trade spots?” she questioned. At his lack of a response, she just huffed and shook her head, walking over to the tent that the woman disappeared in.

The things that she would do for her friends…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Darcy narrowed her eyes as she headed out into the field. She was now clad in ridiculous armor and she had one of those ridiculous swords that looked like a far less cool version of Kate’s. It was more like something that one would find in the clearance section of Walmart.

She groaned deeply, and she tried her best to spot Kate. She was not about to get killed. If she was going to play this game, she was going to make sure that she won. And Kate was good enough at it to win.

“Good day, my fair friend! Art thou ready for battle?!” a familiar voice questioned suddenly from behind Darcy. Darcy turned toward it quickly, sucking in a swift breath as the nervousness crept upon her and the thought of the guillotine came to the forefront of her mind all over again.

To her utter relief, it was just Kate, and Darcy could not help but let out a deep breath of relief. She finally nodded tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose and adjusting her glasses before responding to her question.

“Sure,” Darcy agreed with a shrug, and Kate stepped closer, almost bouncing in place in the midst of her excitement.

“Thank you for doing this. I really am excited to do this with you,” Kate confessed, and Darcy’s gaze softened as she shrugged with a small smile.

“It’s okay. I know you’d do the same,” Darcy told her, and Kate smiled as she straightened, pointing her sword toward the air as she stood next to Darcy.

“Come! Let us gloriously bathe in the blood of our enemies!!” Kate called loudly, and Darcy could not help but wince a little at both Kate’s volume and the insanity of the statement.

These people really did take this stuff seriously.

Kate took off, running in the midst of the battle as she effortlessly took on two or three sword-wielding looneys. Darcy hurried after her, pausing a small distance behind her as she looked around uncertainly. She did not have a clue what to do.

Kate quickly eliminated them, using some fancy sword moves as she efficiently took care of the group. She then charged forward, knocking off a few more of them with her unexpectedly swift moves.

She then found someone that was far better with weapons that Kate’s previous foes and she went at it, fighting the person valiantly. Darcy could not help but raise her eyebrows, utterly shocked at how fast that Kate was with her sword. She was seriously talented, and training with Clint must have taught her quite a lot. Quite a few of the moves she was pulling had nothing to do with what little that Darcy knew about fencing.

Finally, Kate fake-killed the guy, and she turned toward Darcy. However, as she did and in the midst of Darcy being completely shocked at Kate’s sword fighting skills, Kate’s eyes went wide, and she pointed behind Darcy.

Darcy immediately realized what Kate was trying to tell her.

Darcy spun around with the sword clutched in her hand, unintentionally whacking someone in the head with it in the midst of her haste to turn around and see what was behind her. He cried out and fell to the ground, and Darcy’s eyes were ridiculously wide as she looked down at the person she had successfully taken down.

She was quickly shaken as Kate ran up next to her and wrapped her arm around her, squeezing her in a joyful side-hug. She laughed happily, and Kate grinned at Darcy. Darcy’s eyes were wide and she looked at Kate uncertainly. However, Kate’s energy quickly rubbed off, and she could not help but laugh a little with her.

“Oh, my gosh, you really kicked his butt!” Kate joyfully cried, and Darcy grinned incredulously.

“I guess I did.”

“Carry on, my fellow soldier! Let us vanquish more foes!” Kate happily yelled, and she ran off again. Darcy looked down at the guy she had taken out, and she chuckled softly before taking off after Kate.

Maybe this was not quite as bad as she thought.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

At some point, only the most experienced LARPers were left behind, and Darcy was only alive as a result of Kate saving her on multiple occasions.

Currently, they were hiding and trying to strategize. They were lying down on the ground in the dirt surrounded by the bushes, and they were whispering amongst themselves.

“Okay, so I think there’s a group of them on our left flank and to the front of us. We’re going to have to decide which ones to take care of, and figure out a plan,” Kate softly explained, and Darcy shrugged.

“I don’t know. Why don’t we pick them off one by one? Like one of us go and distract them and the other of us stab them from behind?” Darcy suggested, and Kate grinned, looking at Darcy happily.

“I think you were made for this,” Kate complimented, and Darcy rolled her eyes, knowing that Kate had likely already come to the conclusion on her own. She scoffed in reply to her.

“And I think you’re patronizing me,” Darcy replied, and Kate shook her head quickly, quick to deny it as she tried to keep her voice quiet as she could.

“No! I genuinely think you’re good at this. And honestly, I’m really glad you decided to join in. It’s been really fun getting to do this with you,” Kate confessed and Darcy shrugged, smiling gently.

“It’s been nice getting to see you have so much fun. You’re actually extremely talented with a sword. And not like in the usual fencing kind of way. Like in the super awesome hero kind of way,” Darcy complimented. Immediately, just as Darcy had expected, Kate puffed up ridiculously with the praise. Darcy could not help but feel her heart warm at the sight of Kate’s happiness.

“Nah, I’m not that good… I mean… I’ve learned a few things, but I’m not that good,” Kate self-deprecatingly declared, and Darcy shook her head.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re super cool,” Darcy assured her, and Kate took in a breath to speak and reply to her.

But just as she did, people suddenly jumped through the bushes and tried to stab them. The both of them just barely managed to dodge, and they stood up, starting to try to get away as they tripped over the bushes together.

They almost fell, but just as they thought that they had managed to get out the people’s sword range, someone threw an axe and hit Darcy in the back with the foam bouncing off her back. One of them managed to jump out far enough to stab Kate in the back with a sword.

Kate paused and let out a horridly agonized sound. Darcy just stared at her as if she had completely lost her mind, and Kate fell to her knees dramatically.

“I think I see a light… Mother? Dost thou beckon me?” Kate questioned aloud before hacking aloud in a dramatic cough. Darcy just stared, honestly shocked at the theatrics as she watched her.

“The world… It is fading,” Kate declared, straining as she spoke. She clutched at her throat.

“Goodbye, cruel world,” Kate cried before falling the last bit of the way to the ground, splaying out. Darcy just looked down at her, completely unimpressed.

However, as she looked back at the people, she realized they were staring at her expectantly. Darcy let out a deep sigh, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Oh, I am slain. Dead for a ducat, dead,” Darcy complained aloud before very slowly and carefully lowering herself to the ground. She slowly laid down on her back, trying to position her beanie so that it covered some of the back of her hair. She laid there with her hand on her stomach and remained still.

After watching her for a moment, they eventually left to go and eliminate the other groups, and as soon as they were gone, Kate opened her eyes and looked at Darcy.

They were quiet for just a moment before laughing heartily.

“A ducat? What was that?” Kate asked in shock.

“I was quoting Hamlet,” Darcy shot back in defense, unable to keep from laughing in spite of herself. Kate chuckled along with her, shaking her head.

“You’re breaking character!” one of the dead people yelled suddenly, and they both went silent. They slowly looked at each other, and as soon as they made eye contact, they burst into laughter again.

The dead person just groaned in irritation.

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purple-heart-x · 2 years

Text

Error

I’ve been encouraged to post some of the old, old writing that I have. Very whumpy, though I didn’t know there was a word for that. I’m cringing a little and it’s much less polished than my newer stuff, but enjoy!

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Summary/Context: Because this started as a blurb between friends, y’all need some context. It go bullet point because Joy no want to make the paragraph make sense

The Healer has some limited magic powers but relies heavily on actual medical practice because she has not fully mastered her power. She is a human, but was gifted healing and several other powers. This is 100% lore and no I will not explain (jk i will have you seen me lore dump in asks lmao)

Jack is a half-ghost, half-human being. He is able to travel dimensions via runes and, as a non-fully-human, is originally from a non-human realm. Think Omen from Valorant? He speaks in bold/italics/both when distressed or in pain. Which both apply here :) He was a stranger to the humans at first, but eventually helped them on their quest. He knew the rovers for a long time, notably Quinn. He had become their friend, but disappeared mysteriously right after their first “adventure” was over. (And now we know, he was captured by Jules)

Quinn is half-human, half-”robot” (not truly a robot, but close.st definition available). He led a group of others of his kind (called rovers) for a long time until a series of events led mainly by Jules brought him, his group, the Healer, and several other similarly-powered humans together. Other rovers include Paragon. (There are more, but they haven’t been introduced yet.) Humans will remain unnamed except the Healer, for now.

After Jules was defeated back then, they gave up on their previous base and decided to make their new base a huge house (more of a mansion). This is the current setting, for the most part.

Jules is an extraterrestrial menace from Jack’s original universe. They strive to gain power to take over the world. It is unclear why, but they see eliminating Jack as well as all the rovers as essential to their plan succeeding. They do not care about the humans but try to destroy them when they get in their way.

In Chapter 2 I use different text styles like bold and italics to note different people talking. I’m betting you can guess who Quinn is! :D

That’s it for now, feel free to ask anything you’d like. I might continue this, I’ve come to like it.

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Tagging- @shydragonrider

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If you think you know exactly what universe this is referencing, please do not publicly comment. My DMs should be open.

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TW: Mention of starvation, mans gets injured, fever, delirium, everyone’s got b a c k s t o r y,

Chapter 1

She ran after his racing form, desperately calling his name as he veered left and right, trying to lose her. She followed close, pleas for him to wait eventually silenced by breathlessness. She decided to gradually slow down, and the next time he changed direction, she pretended to continue away from him. She cut through the trees, just in time to see him summon a small rune to open a portal. Just in time to hesitate then follow him through.

The first thing she noticed was the lack of colour in this place. Everything was reduced nearly to grey, with only faint hints of colour, if any. Jack was standing in the center of a large grey platform, making an obvious effort not to move a muscle despite the beads of sweat on his forehead and the shakiness of each breath he took. He didn’t even notice the huge figure opposite him until they spoke. “Did you arrive without issue?”

They could almost feel his fear as he responded. “I… was followed briefly…”

“And?”

“I lost… them within… ten minutes…”

The figure nodded, staring coldly down at him. “Well, since you failed your simple task…”

Something in him seemed to break his mask and he started to tremble. “P-p-please-- It-- Please, it’s been four d-da-”

“BE SILENT!”

He was starting to hunch inwards, shaking violently by now. “P-p- I--”

They were screaming now, “You thought it would be five days? MAKE IT SIX!”

She barely suppressed her gasp of shock.

And then, he fell. His legs collapsed under him and he fell forward, arms wrapped around his now-still form. They regarded him from their high stance and then left, closing off the platform and the area surrounding it in some cage.

She silently counted out three full minutes, making sure they were truly gone, before emerging from their hiding place in the shadows. She climbed the steep steps quickly, rushing to his side. Whispered his name. Glanced quickly around to make sure no one heard.

He didn’t respond and no one seemed to hear, so she tried again. He still did not respond. Gently, she turned him over on his back, shocked at how light he was. She grasped his shoulder and lightly shook him, trying not to disturb him too much. “Jack, please… Wake up…”

He finally stirred, slowly opening his eyes. When they landed on her, they widened, and he drew in a breath, throwing an arm out to shield his face. “Please-! Please d- I-!”

She was shocked at how afraid he was. Even in the face of danger, he’d always maintained his grim composure, but now here he was, trembling on the floor, raw fear clear on his face. Immediately, she tried to calm him, speaking quietly so as not to frighten him. “Hey… Jack, it’s okay-- I’m not here to hurt you.”

He tried to say something else, but his already weak arms suddenly gave out.

She lunged, barely catching him from cracking his head on the ground. Gently, she lowered him to the ground, trying not to show the concern on her face that would only make him panic. Once he realised he had been released, he stared up at her with wide eyes. “H-how… Why… You--”

She was kneeling now, next to him. “I’m not going to hurt you. You are safe with me, I promise you.

He blinked, eyes full of panic fading back down to exhaustion. “I- I- D-didn’t mean t…o… R-run…”

She nodded. “From what I heard, I gather she made you…?”

He nodded. “Sh-she wanted me to… Spy…”

“It’s alright,” she assured him.

He spoke, suddenly. “D-d-do you h-have…Water...”

She was surprised- yet so glad- that he’d asked for it outright. “Yes, here,” she said, unstrapping a water bottle from her belt.

She held it out for him. But although he strained to move his arm, eyes tearing up from the effort, he could not do it. Through the whole thing, he was stuttering, full of fear, trying to beg for her to wait, that he could do it, to please, please-

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s okay. Here, let me help you.”

She helped him sit up, leaning against the edge of the boundary. Little droplets of tears ran down his face, and he was trying not to fully cry, they could feel it. She held the bottle for him, allowing him to finally drink. “It’s alright…”

He looked so desperate for the water. It almost broke her. She tried to keep their mind off it, instead focusing on allowing him to drink his fill. He'd only gotten worse since when she'd first seen him. Each breath came with a shudder and his eyes were by now fluttering. He was trying to say something, but his words slurred.

She tried to keep the concern off their face. "Jack… I don't think you're doing too well right now after what you've been through, and I don't have many of the things I need to help you. Can I bring you to our base? We can help you there."

His eyes were struggling to stay open. His voice was hoarse and barely audible. "Wi- W-Wi...th th-em-?”

She had to respond honestly. "Yes, with everyone."

His breathing trembled worse as he asked, "With- him?"

She nodded again. "Yes, with him. He misses you, Jack…"

The shivering form blinked. "Oh," he said in a tiny voice.

And then he dropped down into unconsciousness.

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Bonus! Short Chapter :)

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Chapter 2

"What happened?"

"He's here?"

"He's hurt?"

"Where was he?"

"…Jack…?"

She bit her lip and tried to answer the questions as quickly as possible. "He was forced to spy on us for days by- by Jules. They starved him for about four or five days, yet still forced him to run on what appears to have progressed into an ankle broken in three places."

She glanced at her friends' faces. Shock, all of them. Quinn looked sick, refusing to look up from his friend's troubled face as he blinked back tears.

They had to do something. "Somebody get the first aid kit. Somebody else make some tea. No sugar. He won't be able to handle it right now. Is the guest room open?"

Everyone fell into place with the orders. It was time to save their falling friend.

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Man, y’all are getting content today. One more juicy chapter for tonight.

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Chapter 3

Two days. That's how long it took for him to wake up. That's how long Quinn stayed up, at his side. Unable to sleep. Only able to sit and watch as the one he loved wavered between life and death.

Two days. That's how long the Healer worked, trying to get him to wake up. How long she tried to hold back her tears for the others. How long she spent each night between checks on him to research in her small personal library.

Two days. That's how long the others feared their shadowy friend would simply disappear in front of them.

Two. Days. That was enough for Jules to know he was gone.

Everyone knew that. Some wanted to fight while others wanted to run. Quinn finally called a meeting the second night.

"Well, as you may know, Jack is still not awake. And by now it is far enough along that Jules knows he is gone."

Murmurs follows his statements.

"I also am aware that we are conflicted on what should be done."

Almost immediately, people shouted out their opinions and reasonings. He hushed them. "What I think we must do," he spoke louder to be heard, "is to see if this location is in her view, and if it is…"

Everyone paused as his voice got low. "We'll make sure that digital horror never finds us or hurts us again."

Some people were nodding while others were looking slightly doubtful. But as Jaidan quickly pulled up the database, the Healer came sprinting down the stairs, whispering something in Quinn’s ear. The look on Quinn’s face never changed, but a slight twitch in his facial muscles alerted Paragon. He tilted his head just slightly, and Quinn nodded. He approached the mini “stage” in the middle of the room, which was really just the one misplaced stair that they hadn’t bothered to remove. He picked up where Quinn had left off, a common experience in their household.

Meanwhile, Quinn was silent as he rushed up the stairs behind the Healer. The minute they’d flown down the stairs, he knew something was wrong. Group meetings were hard enough without interruption, since the group was so big to begin with. “Jack’s woken up,” she whispered urgently, “half-delirious and dreaming he’s being hurt. He’s asking for you.”

Asking, he found, was a stretch. A more accurate word would be begging. As he climbed the final stairs, he could already hear Jack’s ragged sobs from the furthest room down the corridor. The Healer’s dark eyes were sorrowful and concerned as they stepped aside to let him pass before them. He strode quickly down the hall, opening the door cautiously.

Jack was on the bed, looking tiny even on the small-sized bed. Perhaps that was also partially because he was bent almost double, hands clutched together as if to defend his face, whimpering in complete terror of an unknown attacker. What hit him harder than a sword in the chest, though, was the sentence that kept tumbling out of Jack’s mouth each time his mind perceived another attack in whatever delusion he was trapped in.

“Quinn… H-Help me…” he trembled, “Please, it hurts so bad- Make it stop… Please, make it stop… Quinn, p-please help me…”

And he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. He didn’t even know Quinn was actually there. There were so many things bubbling in Quinn’s chest, but he pushed them aside as he rushed to the side of the bed, not hesitating to sit on it next to his terrified friend.

Quinn knew him, knew what would help. He turned slightly, lifting Jack into his arms. As the tiny figure began to struggle, he restrained him, looping an arm around his flailing ones. He hugged him close, firmly, but loosely enough that he wouldn’t feel trapped. “It’s okay,” he said in a soft tone, “I’m here… I’m not going to let them hurt you any more, okay? I’m here now, it’s okay.”

The grey-eyed figure stopped struggling as he recognised the voice. “Q-Quinn?” he asked, squinting without his glasses.

“It’s me,” he said again, sighing quietly in relief as Jack calmed down slightly.

Jack swallowed hard, shifting with Quinn’s help to face him. “I-It hurts,” he wept, face still clenched tight with pain.

“I know, hun, we’re trying to get it to stop,” Quinn whispered gently.

It was like that for a while, Quinn holding Jack close while Jack held on tighter. It was as if he didn’t truly believe Quinn was actually there, and he clutched tightly to his oldest friend as if to keep him from leaving again. And even though his fingers were digging slightly into Quinn’s skin, he was able to tolerate it by the way Jack’s arms shook with effort.

Even though Jack was so relieved to have Quinn with him, his body was giving out too much to express it. He was barely able to gasp out anything besides “It hurts”, to which Quinn could only try to soothe him.

Eventually, he couldn’t even manage that, and started to fall back into unconsciousness. He fell asleep with Quinn stroking his hair lightly.

Quinn nodded to the Healer, who lingered in the doorway, and she gently rested her hands on the injured soul’s waist to bring him to the med table. But the minute her fingertips touched him, he flinched and jolted awake, a tiny, scared noise escaping his lips.

Before he could panic further, Quinn jumped in. “It’s okay, Jack, that’s just my friend. She’s here to help you feel better, okay? I’m still here. I’m still here, I promise.”

Jack relaxed slightly and allowed the Healer to pick him up. He gave a little nod, and whispered, “O-okay…” as the Healer carried him gently to the next room.

A whimper lingered in the air.

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madmarkinabox · 2 months

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Without support of the Sanctuary, Skulduggery and Valkyrie must protect cocky Teleporter Fletcher Renn from being part of a ritual to-

[Frantic whispering]

What?

[More frantic whispering]

Oh, the Doctor Who one. Right, sorry.

Season 4

The Faceless Ones

Landing on a runway at Gatwick Airport in 1966, the Doctor and friends are forced to split up, Polly witnessing a murder shortly after. She is then kidnapped, only to reappear moments later with no memory of who she is. Just what are Chameleon Tours up to? WHAT are they? And where have their passengers disappeared to?

A fairly unique one here, as most of the story's length is given over to solving mysteries; first murder, then disappearances. It's really laced with a good hearty dose of paranoia. Who do you trust in these sort of situations? And the behaviour of the Chameleons, for want of an actual alien species name, is another seed sown for when we'll eventually see the Sontarans, keeping their victims in a sort of stasis while the aliens take on the victims' forms and memories electronically, and maintain the ruse via wrist-mounted Wiimotes (come on, just look at them!) on both the original and doppelganger. It even calls to mind Invasion of the Body Snatchers which came out 11 years earlier.

So these are interesting ideas, but the whole thing is very slow and plodding. I do like how the Chameleons are in a desperate state following a disaster on their planet and trying to assimilate themselves onto a new world, even if they're going about it the wrong way and have this air of snobbery about them regarding humanity. It resonates with our world now in ways I wouldn't have expected, with that sense of paranoia, especially in this age of conspiracy theories. Great replacement theory, lizard people in power, us vs them, yadda yadda yadda. Again, Body Snatchers. And mythology-wise, since Polly and Ben initially started their adventures with the First Doctor on this date, London certainly had a busy few days with all this going on in addition to WOTAN's uprising. I also appreciate the animators' little in-joke of the Magpie Electronics ad in the airport, especially in a story called The Faceless Ones. But I digress... This story? It's OK. It's just so slow-moving. Don't know if I'd call it essential unless you really want to see Polly and Ben's departure. Just OK.

Next time: The Evil of the Daleks!

#classic doctor who #second doctor #the faceless ones

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exigencelost · 3 years

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I just wanted to read tumblr posts about abolition so I got into the habit of checking your blog every day, but the price is that now I have to read animorphs, so: Do you think someone who never read them as a kid (I found the book covers deeply off-putting) would appreciate them as a twentysomething if your posts are what draws me to them? Also, there is *so much* of it, what do I read and in what order?

Incredible work all around. By the way, everyone should feel free to block my #animorphs tag if you're trying to read abolition blogging without being inundated with constant Animorphs.

First question: Covers. So, the thing about the covers is they're immaterial to the actual text of Animorphs except for one fact, which is that the actual morph transitions are much, much, much more disturbing in text than they are on the covers. However I kind of just skipped over them as a kid and still instinctively sometimes do so as an adult, not because I find them upsetting but because they're not that essential to the action and I wanted to get to the next dramatic plot point. And skimming past the morph transitions usually doesn't impact the story in any way. So unless body horror is a prohibitive issue for you (in which case don't read Animorphs) don't worry about the covers.

Second question: would you like them as an adult if you're in it for the content in my animorphsposting. I'm biased here because I'm in it for the content in my animorphsposting and I like them as an adult. I would say yes if you're able to tolerate some nonsensical plot points and a decent amount of middle-grade-book-style filler and occasionally graceless prose. I recently described Animorphs as a profound and nuanced tragic war epic crammed inside a Goosebumps book. All the tragedy and amorality and intricate relationship dynamics that I'm talking about are actually there, I'm not just making this shit up. And a lot of the filler is fun. But they are still kids' books and they're written like kids' books and you have to be able to enjoy reading a kids' book.

Some stuff, like my whole take about Marco's drama about his mother mirroring the trauma of a child with an incarcerated parent, is me bringing my own sauce to the table and while I don't think I'm wrong, I do think it won't jump out of the text for most other people the way it does to me. But the thing about Marco and his mother sacrificing each other for the greater good and that being an unsettling but profound expression of love? Or Cassie almost causing the complete destruction of the human race out of a desperate refusal to destroy even one more person's life, and Marco's complete inability to comprehend that choice, and the narrative never treating either of them as correct or incorrect? That's text baby. These kids are fucked up.

Third question: Where to start. You have a couple options here.

The most straightforward approach is to start with book #1: The Invasion, and then read the whole series in order including companion novels in the order they appear in on this list of free PDFS. This is gonna give you the actual character arcs. It's also gonna give you a clearer picture of all the continuity errors and missed opportunities. This is not how I or most people my age read them as a child, because these pdfs didn't exist and you read whatever the library had in whatever order you could find it.

(The only way I might deviate from the sequence on that list is that I'd personally wait until the end to read the Ellimist Chronicles because if I remember correctly its framing device contains a pretty significant spoiler for the endgame of Animorphs and also, it doesn't really add anything to the actual progression of the series. It's a decent book on its own merits though even though I hate the Ellimist.

EDIT: I agree with the commenter that the other place I’d deviate from the order on the linked list is don’t read Andalite Chronicles until after #23. But honestly you can save Andalite for the end along with Ellimist, it’s whatever.)

(Also: the companion books you can freely skip on that list if you want to maximize Animorph Team Character Arc cohesion while minimizing extraneous alien nonsense are The Ellimist Chronicles and The Andalite Chronicles. Visser and Hork-Bajir Chronicles are both super relevant to the main characters' actual stories, IMO, and I personally feel that the Megamorphs books add character texture. Absolutely skip both Alternamorphs books regardless of what else you do. )

If you take this approach, I will advise that book #1 is not really at all representative of the Animorphs reading experience, and that they get increasingly Animorphs-y as they go but specifically if you don't enjoy #6: The Capture, you can give up, because you probably won't like Animorphs. They've reached full Animorphs by #6. The frightening levels of team cohesion, the terror of team PVP, the exploration of the broad tactical options available via morphing, the profound psychological horror of what the main villains are physically able to do their victims, the inability to protect your loved ones from institutional violence, the faith in your comrades' ability to protect you, the protagonist-perpetrated war crimes, the confrontation of your enemy's humanity even as it tortures you and as you wrestle the life from its body. It's all there.

Reading six of these books as a trial run is not as huge an undertaking as it seems. I can get through an Animorphs book in about four hours, less if I'm not trying to do detailed character analysis, and I'm a fairly slow reader. They're short and they're written for children.

The second option is just start with #6 and then decide if you want to go back and read the first five to find out how the team got here.

The third option, if you're drawn to Animorphs specifically because of my posting, is just fucking read Visser and call it a day. Half of what I have to say is about Visser specifically. It's definitely the most adult book on the roster and it mostly should hold up on its own.

Fourth option is what @creepsandcrawlers did which is to for some fucking reason read all the companion novels first, and then eventually get around to the main series. He feels this improved the experience and unlike me, he got into Animorphs as an adult, so I’m including this on the list even though I find it bizarre. Companion novels I think here means Hork-Bajir Chronicles, Andalite Chronicles, Ellimist Chronicles, and Visser, in no particular order. Not Megamorphs, which require you to have some familiarity with the main series in order to make any sense at all, and not Alternamorphs. Again I say to you that you should not read Alternamorphs at any point in any of these scenarios.

Fifth option is the classic, which is ignore the PDFs and just read whatever your library’s got and make up your own connective tissue for the plot arc as you go.

None of this addresses content warnings. If you want Animorphs content warnings hit me up for that separately, and if you want me to answer privately and in whatever level of specific detail, let me know. That would be its own very very long post.

#animorphs #metaposting

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char-lotta · 3 years

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Forgive me not (3/3)

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 2,8 k

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Summary: Forgetting is hard but forgiving is harder

A/N: See the end (spoilers)

Forgive me not, part three

You felt air escaping your lungs and the adrenaline just kept rushing in your veins, your poor heart pumped furiously trying to composure things which had totally pulled the rug under your feet. This couldn’t be happening.

“Can’t go offline now, huh?” she mocked you. Your muscles didn’t oblige your brains anymore, but to be honest, your brains were one slushy mess at this point. She was in control of this discussion and was pulling you in.

“H-h-how?” you finally muttered and heard her laugh bitterly. You couldn’t see anything funny in this situation and tried to find a place to sit down. The rain was pouring harder than ever, and you could barely hear her anymore. The thunder hit loudly; it was getting really near.

“When two adults love each other’s… - “she started, but then snorted, “- Oh wait. You didn’t love me.”

You tried to ignore her, since you knew that you loved her more than anything in this world, but you couldn’t. “I do love you”, you said in a quiet tone. You didn’t even realize that you didn’t use the past tense like she did, but she got it immediately.

“You love me? What kind of a man loves a woman and leaves her just because he loves her so much?” she asked. “What kind of man leaves a pregnant woman?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well, you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to know”, she erupted, and you could see her eyes on fire. You were still trying to understand what was going on, but the situation had gone out of control.

“Why didn’t you send me a message?” you asked dumbfound. You didn’t mean to blame her, you just wanted to understand, why didn’t she tell you before?

“Why didn’t I send you a message?” she spat furiously, and you knew that you had done a mistake. She literally exploded. “I tried to contact you months! I pleaded, I begged, I called you a hundred times, but it was all in vain.”

You could hear her tone getting muffled and saw those tears again glimmering in her eyes. “What was I supposed to do? You didn’t want to answer any of my texts”.

“But you didn’t say that you were pregnant”, you tried to be reasonable with her, but you picked the wrong words, you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when she burst again.

“FUCK YOU!” she yelled, and her neighbors dog started to bark above her in apartment, distracted by the noise. “It took me ages to pull my shit together and you are asking me, why I didn’t tell you via text that I was pregnant? Fuck you, Jake! And fuck me!”

“Well, that was the thing what got us in this situation, don’t you think”, you grunted. The dog was still barking, and someone turned lights on in the first floor. The place started to feel too public. “Could we please go inside?”

She looked like she would be going to slap you and you would not blame her for that, you would deserve it all. Before she got to say anything, you just took her hand and looked her intensely, pleading. “Please, MC. Let’s go inside.”

Something changed in her gaze and she looked thoughtful, and a few seconds later, she nodded withdrawing her hand quickly from yours. She leaded you through the stairwell to her new home, and you followed her as numb. While she was taking the stairs with loud thumps while marching, you could hear her muttering herself and picked up sentences; “all of the sudden he just shows up” and “I am not going to let him sneak in again”.

When you got inside her apartment, the brightness of the room blazed you for a second, since you had to get used to it after the street’s darkness. She walked to the closet looking for something, and returned with a few towels, handing one over to you. You took the towel with gratitude and for a minute, you both were silent while drying yourself.

Both of you were shivering of coldness, but you didn’t complain, and neither was she. She got rid of the thick and wet cardigan and you couldn’t help yourself, but you had to look it again.

The bump was clearly visible now and it looked so tiny in her body, and you couldn’t get hold of the idea that inside of the bump, was something produced by you. She noticed you looking at her but didn’t move. You moved your gaze in her eyes and looked her helplessly.

“I don’t know what to do”, you said desperately, trying to seek some comfort from her. She had always been so great soothing you and helped you cope the anxiousness and stress of yours, but now she was relentless. Still, it was unfair that she was the one who had to console you. But your thoughts were a mess and you just couldn’t understand how this happened.

“You do what you do best”, she said tiredly. “Go and leave me alone.”

Even now, when your life was shattering, you knew that you couldn’t do that for her, even though you wanted to get far from this situation as you could. Previously, you had put her in danger simply just being with her, but this… This was a whole new level for you. How on earth you could keep both of them safe?

Them…

The airways of yours felt tight again and you tried to get some air by moving your head and opening your mouth. One... Two… Three… you counted as you inhaled and exhaled. With your eyes closed, you tried to calm yourself now and could feel the rhythm of your heart slowing down.

There was a small tug in your hand, and you opened your eyes. She was nudging you towards the kitchen.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some tea”, she said, and you obliged.

You watched her boiling the water and getting two mugs in front of her in her cozy kitchen and could just admire her peacefulness.

“How can you be so calm?” you asked and hoped she wouldn’t get angry again. She looked you with a mysterious face but didn’t yell.

“I had enough time to panic already”, she said. “But those feelings you’re having now, well I had to face them alone.”

Her words didn’t sound accusing, but the rush of shame flooded into you. You had thought that it was best for her that she wouldn’t have to bear with you and risk her life for something you had done, but instead you had abandoned her in time, where she was needing you the most. You remembered your mother crying in the evenings for the absence of your father and even tough you were just a little boy; you had sworn that you would never be like your father. And you had failed miserably.

She handed in your tea and you took it in your own hands. Tea warmed your cold hands nicely and you could feel the blood flowing in your fingers after a while. You sat on the chair towards her and looked her in the eye.

She had never looked so beautiful as now. The dark, wet curls around her face, which were now calm, but those eyes… The green eyes of hers pierced you with their gaze, and you weren’t sure, what she was thinking. She looked so strong, independent, and full of life.

“I thought that you would contact me after I told you I have important things to discuss”, she said plainly and looked her hands, which were tight around her cup of tea. “You always told me that you would be there for me whatever happened, so when you weren’t… Well, I just didn’t want to humiliate myself more, since I thought you wouldn’t read my messages.” You could see the hands trembling in around her cup.

“I did read your messages”, you responded with sadness in your voice. “I tried to keep my promise to you, but with distance. I tried to keep you safe. I could never forgive myself if something happened for you just because of me. You didn’t choose this life, but I did. I knew that I would never be able to live normal life in the suburbs, having a job from 9 am – 5pm, couple of kids and a dog… And those things are still so important since I wanted to give you a chance for those.”

Her explanation was reasonable, and you knew it. You had promised her those things before… When you had thought that it was possible to be near her and keep her safe by you.

“But you never asked me what I wanted”, she reminded you with kindness in her words. That was true, but why would she give up on everything she had? You couldn’t even promise to her that tomorrow was going to be a better day, since you did have no idea of tomorrow. You could be captured, and she would get trouble, just for being with you.

“I wanted to be with you”, she continued, and you could see the tears in her cheeks. There was a lump in your throat and carefully, you caressed her cheek, wiping the tears with your thumb. She took your hand in hers and for a moment, you got lost in her eyes. She was so amazing, letting you touch her after all you had done.

“I am so sorry”, you said in a muffled tone, and the vision of her started to get blurry. And you were, so fucking sorry for everything you had done, for any pain you had caused to her. She sobbed quietly and you couldn’t resist yourself and went around the table to her and pulled her close. Her head laid in your chest while she cried, and the sound of her crying was the worst thing you had ever heard. She sounded so broken.

“I am sorry”, you repeated, hugging her tightly.

You couldn’t ask for forgiveness of hers and didn’t even dare to hope it. But you sworn to her, that you would always be there for her and would provide her and it all the things they would ever need.

“Jake”, she whispered through her sobs. “It is a baby. Baby of yours, not it. She or he will be a tiny human of yours and mine.”

You buried your head in her hair, smelling that familiar scent of hers. Being a father was not the thing what you had ever expected to be or even dream of and you could not handle the thought. It felt like someone else’s life, not yours, the wanted by the government-hacker.

“But how?” you asked again, needing to understand.

“Do you remember that one night? When we woke up in the middle of the night, needing each other’s? We made love in half sleep”, she reminded you and suddenly you remembered.

That one night, you had woken up and the only thought in your head was I want you, and you had woken her up by gently, kissing her neck, just below her ear as she loved it. You couldn’t remember using the protection though.

“It was only one time”, you breathed.

“And it was all what was needed”, she answered. The silence fell between you, and after a while, you felt urge to explain, why you had left her.

“They sent me a picture of you to remind me, that they knew who you were”, you told her, head still in her hair. “It was a threat without a doubt, and I couldn’t let you continue this mess of what I call my life.”

She clung on your clothes and told you that she didn’t care, and you didn’t want to hear it. She could not give her life away just because of you, you would not be worth it. “But you are worth it”, she insisted, and you couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore and turned your gaze away. She pulled your face back to hers with her hand and told you again, that she would give anything to be with you.

“I want to wake up with you every single day of my life”, she said. “Even if it means that I’ll give up on my life as I know it now. We are meant to be together”, she exclaimed, taking your hand in yours.

“Think about it; we would never had met without the kidnapping of Hannah and we fell in love via messages without seeing each other’s face. And when we finally did, I didn’t want to let go of you ever. Those two months with you were the best time of my life”, she breathed quickly now.

You couldn’t believe your ears; all those words were too good to be true. She felt exactly the same with you, than you with her. The living without her was nothing but emptiness and sadness, that twisted image of life alone was not worth it. The purpose of your living was right here, in your arms.

“I don’t know how you could forgive me what I did”, you said and meant every word of yours. How could she? All your promises were empty, and you had left her alone.

“I have to”, she said. “And I want to. Not just for me, but for us”, she continued and took your hand to her stomach, and you could feel the baby bump under your hand.

“I don’t dream of those things you told me”, she explained. “I dream of us being together, all three of us. We might not be the most traditional family, but we are still family”, she continued.

“I don’t know how to do this”, you admitted nervously. Nothing could prepare you for this moment advance, since this was the door in your life which had been closed forever. Or so you had thought.

“You just need to be with us”, she assured you. “Forget those pursuers of yours, we can figure out together how to get rid of those. We can always move outside of the country and start all over again”, she sounded little bit excited now.

For a moment, you pulled being reasonable aside and let yourself think about her suggestion. It was a possibility, but you would need a new identities and passports. You had friends who could help with those easily and first time in years, you had hope.

“I can not promise you that we would be always safe and clear”, you reminded her, but she hushed you.

“I know. But when the time comes, we’ll solve it out together”, she answered with assuring tone. “You just have to promise one thing though.”

“And what is that?”

“Stop escaping your happiness now”, she looked you in a stern face. “And don’t you ever leave me.”

You looked her in the eyes and knew, that there would be no turning back from this. The choice of yours was easy, but you still hesitated since this was her life you were talking now, and she was so eager to hand it over to you, just for the opportunity of being together. She saw the pain in your face and knew, that it wasn’t because you didn’t want those things, but you were afraid.

“I love you, Jake”, she breathed and came closer. Her lips looked so soft, inviting you back to the light. Your lips met carefully, having a taste of each other’s, but suddenly you felt this hot burn inside of you and you got greedy, pulling her closer, kissing her passionately, draining all the misery, sadness and fears out. She nibbed your lower lip and you let a small moan escape on your lips, why would I ever wanted to let go of this. Your hand was in her hair, grasping a solid place to hold on, and your other hand wandered in the surface of her spine.

You two parted as breathing quickly, grasping for air. Your hands stayed in their places and you just knew, that you had made your decision; you were going through this together. All three of you.

“I love you, Jake”, she repeated and looked you desperately. “You can not leave me again, I will not have it, you hear me?”

You nodded and you told her that you would do anything that you could, so you could have a fresh start together somewhere else. You kissed her lightly and caressed her bump gently. This was a wild territory for you, but you would do anything for your family, not just because promise of yours when you had looked your mother, but because you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them.

“I love you too“, you whispered to her ear and she rewarded you with a kiss.

A/N: This was probably the hardest chapter to write, but still, the quickest one. My idea of Jake being so insecure comes from his need to protect MC, even if it causes him to be in pain. He have always wanted the best for her. I hope you like this story as much I did writing this :) Thank you for sticking with me till the end!

#duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #jake x mc #jake x player

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sarcasmandships · 3 years

Text

how to save a life part 2︱spencer reid

word count: 8.7k

spencer reid x slight oc

spencer and veronica argue over him keeping their relationship from the team, but when spencer sustains a life-threatening gun shot wound it puts everything into perspective

angst + hurt/comfort with a n eventual happy ending

this is not an x reader because i hate writing y/n in place of a character name and it often forces you into writing in second person which i also hate - however I have avoided giving specific descriptions of hair/eye/skin colour, height and body shape so feel free to imagine it like an x reader

this is also heavily inspired by greys anatomy and ive taken characters from the show to be side characters, however you do not need to have watched a single episode of greys to follow the story

warnings: spencer being shot, descriptions of blood, descriptions of surgery

read part one here!

Veronica readjusted her dress for what felt like the 100th time that evening. The green, silk bodice was too restrictive; her feet ached from the stiletto heels April had picked out for her. She grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

"That is for the guests!" April hissed, smacking her arm with her tiny clutch bag.

"And the hostages," Veronica said, raising her glass to an imaginary toast.

"Amen to that," Cristina agreed, taking a long sip of champagne from her own glass.

"You two are hopeless," April said, shaking her head before storming off.

"I like angry Kepner," Cristina chuckled.

"God, I can't breathe in this thing," Veronica gasped, pulling at the top of her dress again, "I think I've got a tension pneumothorax."

"Unfortunately, if I had a needle big enough to help you, I'd have stabbed myself in the eye hours ago," Cristina said, deadpan.

Veronica gave her a shaky laugh.

"Ooo, is that Kevin Gibbs?" Cristina said, suddenly filled with a burst of newfound energy as she spied a man at the next table, "oh, he is rich rich, I'm so getting a donation from him," she grinned before dashing off to take Kevin Gibbs' arm.

Veronica rolled her eyes as she watched Cristina twirl her hair and flutter her eyelashes; she was far too good at this. Veronica was left alone at the table, tired of pretending she was interested in anything these rich, old men had to say; she pulled her phone out to scroll through Twitter.

However, as she unlocked it, Spencer's name popped up on her screen, and her shrill ringtone cut through the low-level chatter and ambient music in the room. She hastily switched the phone to silent after receiving a few pointed glares but continued to stare blankly at the screen as it rang.

She did not want to speak to him.

But she had told him to keep in touch.

Via text, not a phone call.

But what if something was wrong.

Eventually, she clicked 'accept'.

"Spencer, I told you-"

"Hi, Veronica," the voice on the other end cracked, "it's Derek Morgan. We met earlier today..."

Veronica's blood ran cold as Derek spoke to her through the phone. She could hear the piercing wail of the sirens; it harmonised with Cristina's shrill laughter as she flirted with Kevin at the next table.

Blood was pounding in her ears. Her entire body was in free fall like she was being hurled down the drop of a rollercoaster that seemed to never end.

"... they're taking him to Stafford Grace Mercy West Hospital, meet us there when you can - I gotta go."

Derek hung up the phone.

Veronica stood frozen, her body trembling and mind spinning.

"Veronica!" Jackson snapped as he strutted towards her, "you're supposed to be getting donations, not standing in a corner drinking all the champagne…."

Veronica was staring straight at Jackson's face as he ranted, but she couldn't focus her eyes enough to see his furrowed brows or flared nostrils. Her mind was spinning at hyper speed, but everything around her moved in slow motion; she gripped onto the edge of the table.

"…are you even listening to me?" he snapped his fingers in front of Veronica's glazed eyes.

"Spencer was shot. In the chest, he's on the way to the hospital now," she said in a monotone, "I have to...I have to go...I..." Veronica clutched her head in her hands; the room would not stop spinning.

"Oh my god," Jackson gulped, "of course, go, go. Do you want me to come?"

Veronica stumbled away from him and towards the door. Why was the floor moving like that?

"No," she called back to him, "this is your event you can't leave, I just- I need to go," she turned on her heel and dashed out of the door.

The hospital was just up the street. Jackson had picked a venue close by so the doctors who didn't have the day off could get there quickly after work. Veronica pushed people out of the way as she staggered up the street; her feet didn't hurt anymore. Her whole body was just pins and needles.

She burst through the doors of the ER, in her floor-length, green dress and dazzling emerald necklace, with tears streaming down her face. Sections of her neatly pinned hair had broken free; she clutched her chest as she gasped for air. It was only a matter of time before someone called for a psychiatric consult.

With most of the other attendings at the gala, the interns and residents had swarmed like locusts to get their hands on a surgical case. Veronica pushed through the sea people, looking for someone she knew – why did all the residents look the same?

Veronica scanned the trauma rooms, hoping to catch sight of his messy hair. They were full of bloodied and beaten-up people, but none of them were Spencer. She had just stumbled through the double doors to the waiting area when she heard someone call her name.

"Veronica?"

She whipped her head around to see Derek Morgan standing in front of her. Several steps behind him, she noticed Penelope Garcia, who she recognised from this morning, and several other anxious FBI agents.

"Derek," she gasped, gripping onto his outreached hands, allowing herself to stabilise slightly, "w-what happened?"

"We were chasing down the unsub and Reid...he fell and just when he was getting back up, he got hit. It was bad luck. It caught him just above his vest."

"And he's in surgery now? I didn't see him in any of the trauma rooms?"

"They just took him up; come with us. You need to sit down," he said kindly, and Veronica allowed him to guide her over to the seats.

"Hi again," Garcia squeaked, but Veronica stared straight ahead and didn't answer her.

The others tried to introduce themselves, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. They were names she knew well from Spencer's last night rants about work, but she couldn't bring herself to look at any of them long enough to put a face to the name. Derek was trying to reassure her when Veronica caught sight of a familiar resident walking past with a tablet in her hand.

"Murphy!" she barked, "get over here."

Murphy's head snapped up, and she looked around rapidly to see where the voice had come from; when her eyes finally landed on Veronica, she looked at her quizzically but shuffled over.

"Dr Grey, I thought you were at the gala-"

"I need you to look up a patient for me, Spencer Reid - came in with a GSW to the chest and should be in surgery now."

"Dr Grey, what's going on?" Murphy said slowly, her eyes darting between Veronica and the team of agents behind her.

"Just do it, Murphy!" she ordered, and Spencer's teammates looked slightly taken aback.

"Okay, okay!" she said, typing rapidly on her tablet, "he's in surgery with Dr Hunt and Dr Altman for an exploratory thoracotomy...chest x-ray showed a GSW to the chest with the bullet lodged near the thoracic aorta...he was tachycardic and hypotensive when he came in, with substantial blood loss-"

Bile bubbled up in her throat, "what OR are they in?"

"Dr Grey, I can't-"

"What O.R, Murphy?" she snapped; she gripped the edge of the plastic chair to prevent herself from strangling the resident.

"OR one!"

"Okay... OR one. OR one has a gallery," Veronica mumbled to herself, she tapped her foot against the floor and her stiletto clacked against the linoleum.

"Dr Grey, you know you can't go up there when you aren't working-"

"Murphy, do you want a medical career?"

"Y-yes," she stammered.

"Then you'll get out of my way before I have the AMA strip your medical license," Veronica snapped; she stood up and gathered up the skirt of her dress as she began to power walk towards the elevator.

"Wait, where are you going?" Derek called after her.

"Spencer's in OR one, that OR has a viewing gallery... I'm going to watch his surgery," she said flatly before turning away and continuing along the hallway.

It wasn't until she was in the elevator and ready to push the OR floor button that she realised that Spencer's team was directly behind her.

"What are you guys doing?" she sighed as they piled into the elevator after her.

"He's one of us. We aren't gonna hang around a waiting room if we can be there with him," the blonde woman that Veronica thought was called Jennifer, retorted.

She was ready to argue. To protest that they weren't allowed in the gallery, that surgery wasn't for the faint-hearted. But then she looked at all their faces, desperate and distressed; they looked how she felt.

So, she closed her mouth and jabbed the button for the fifth floor.

The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the fifth floor. It stopped on three, and a huddle of surgical interns tried to cram in, but Veronica snapped at them before they had the chance.

"No. You get the next one," she glowered at them, and they could only give her nervous stammers and shaky head nods in response.

Veronica rolled her eyes at them as the doors crept shut again, with her arms folded tightly across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor.

"You seem to have a lot of authority here," Hotch commented.

"I'm an attending," she said bluntly, "they're interns - bottom of the surgical food chain, their only job is to stay out of our way and try not to kill anyone."

"That seems...harsh," Garcia whispered to Derek.

Veronica whipped her head around, "a hospital like this doesn't work without a hierarchy; it's how we learn. If we don't treat them that way, then they get too confident. Would you rather have an intern perform Spencer's exploratory thoracotomy or two surgeons with years of experience who are chiefs of their respective departments?"

Garcia gaped at her, but the elevator doors creaked open, saving her from trying to respond to Veronica's scathing comment.

"The gallery is this way," Veronica grunted under her breath as she exited the elevator and crept up a short flight of stairs.

"That wasn't very nice; Garcia was only making an observation," JJ whispered to Emily as they followed Veronica.

"Who is this woman?" Emily responded, equally as confused as to why they were following this random woman around a hospital.

Derek turned round to face them, "she's Spencer's girlfriend-"

"Girlfriend!" Emily gasped, "did he ever mention a girlfriend to any of you?" she asked, looking between JJ and Derek.

"No, not once…." JJ frowned.

"He didn't tell me as much as he was forced to, that's why he's been acting so off recently, but I couldn't really get many details from him about her, so don't ask me anything - she's just worried about him like we are, she's on edge too."

Veronica burst into the gallery, which was thankfully empty. She pressed her forehead up against the viewing window and saw Spencer lying on the table. The glass was cool against her forehead, which seemed to somewhat soothe her pounding headache.

Spencer's face was draped, she couldn't see his eyes, but she could see his half of his rib cage. That unsettled her; she wasn't supposed to be able to see into her boyfriend's chest cavity. Veronica clung to the glass as she staggered to the intercom on the wall; she pushed the button that allowed them to hear what was being said in the OR.

"... there's a lot of bleeding here, more suction!" Dr Altman demanded.

"Right away, doctor."

Veronica flicked the switch that allowed her to be heard in the OR, "Owen," she said slowly, and he looked up at her in shock, "I need you to save him."

"Veronica, you're supposed to be at the fundraiser. What are you doing here?"

"Owen, listen to me," she pleaded, her voice cracking, "I need you to save him."

"Well, of course, I'm gonna try and save him, Veronica I don't understand-"

"Oh god," Dr Altman said as she suddenly realised what was happening, "Spencer Reid... he's your Spencer. I met him at Owen and Cristina's wedding; we talked so much about the Mechanical Complications of Acute Myocardial Infarction I thought he was a surgeon too…."

Veronica nodded silently.

Her Spencer.

She couldn't control the sob that wracked her body. She was vaguely aware of Garcia placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, so I need you to save him," she sniffed, "because if he dies, I will literally go out of my fucking mind, and I won't be much of a neurosurgeon from the psych floor."

"Veronica, you should be up here," Owen said as he forced another clamp into Spencer's chest, "how did you even know where he was?"

"Murphy told me," she said, "but it wasn't her fault, so don't go and yell at her; I told her I'd have her medical licence taken away."

Owen paused, "you can't do that, though."

"She doesn't know that! Please just save him. I need you to save him."

"I-" Dr Altman hesitated, "we'll do everything we can, V, I promise you."

"Thank you, Teddy," she whispered through her tears; she flicked the button off again so they wouldn't be distracted by her sobs.

Veronica collapsed into a chair in the middle of the front row and kicked her heels off. Spencer's team had shuffled into the rows behind her and sat, whispering quietly among themselves and clutching onto each other.

"V-veronica," Garcia finally spoke after around an hour of near silence, "I know you're a different kind of doctor, but what are they doing? I don't understand any of these medical terms. Can you explain it?"

Veronica twisted slowly in her seat to face her, revealing her mascara coated cheeks and puffy eyes. She nodded slowly.

"They're doing a surgery called an exploratory thoracotomy; they're trying to remove all the bullet fragments from his chest cavity. Their main concern is that the bullet hit very close to the thoracic aorta, which is a major vessel that carries blood from the heart to the rest of the body."

"B-but it didn't hit his aorta, so that's good, right?"

"Right, cos' if it had, then he'd have bled out seconds after he was hit," Veronica paused to swallow the vomit creeping up her throat as she imagined Spencer's bloodless body lying in the morgue, "but the impact of the bullet creates shock waves when it enters the body. Considering the proximity to the thoracic aorta, it could weaken it and cause an aortic dissection."

"And that's bad?"

Veronica nodded gravely, "they're almost always fatal, the blood loss becomes too uncontrollable, and even the best surgeons, like Dr Altman and Dr Hunt, can't do anything," she turned back around to face the OR as a fresh set of tears threatened to spill over.

"Oh," was all Garcia could muster up.

"Those doctors, are they really the best?" Emily asked.

Veronica nodded, "Owen, Dr Hunt is head of trauma surgery, and Teddy, Dr Altman, is head of cardiothoracic surgery. They served together in Iraq; they've put soldiers half blown apart by bombs back together, if anyone can save Spencer - it's them," she reassured.

"Good to know..." Emily said in uncertainty, wrapping a comforting arm around JJ, who was silently sobbing into a tissue.

"What you need to understand is that every GSW is different, which is what makes them so difficult to fix, and when a bullet enters the body, it not only tears through structures, but the transfer of kinetic energy can cause damage to nearby tissues, like what I was saying about his thoracic aorta," she explained slowly, "that's why GSWs are so dangerous because the damaged area can ripple out around the entry wound."

"But you think he'll be okay, right?" JJ sniffed.

Veronica hesitated; she glanced back at Spencer's motionless body on the table. Her eyes scanning the monitors he was hooked up to, the constant stream of O neg he was being replenished with, the rip spreaders and clamps in his chest…

She felt sick again and had to turn away.

"I don't know. He hasn't been in surgery very long… it's just too early to say."

"There isn't anything more we can do for him now," Hotch spoke gravely, "he's in the hands of the people who are best trained to help him; we just need to trust that they are doing everything they can to save him."

Hotch's words had a sense of finality, and the room fell close to silent again with only Veronica, Garcia and JJ's sniffles and sobs echoing around the dimly lit room. Derek help Garcia's hand tightly in his own, JJ rested her head on Emily's shoulder, Hotch and Rossi sat next to each other, their faces stoic and stony. Veronica sat alone, tugging at the restrictive bodice of her dress every few seconds.

They sat like that for at least another two hours.

Suddenly, the monitors attached to Spencer began beeping rapidly, Veronica's heart seized, and she jumped to her feet to get a better view.

"What's happening to him?" Garcia whimpered; she clung onto Derek's arm as he also stood up and strained his neck to see.

"He's in DIC!" Teddy's voice echoed through the intercom, "push heparin," she ordered.

"Veronica, what's going on?" Derek asked; he tried to keep his voice steady, but it wavered slightly.

"He's in DIC, disseminated intravascular coagulation - it means that proteins in the blood that cause clotting go into overdrive, which actually causes excessive bleeding. If they don't control the blood loss, it's fatal."

"Lap pads! And more suction! I can't see a thing," Owen demanded as he packed Spencer's chest cavity to absorb the excess blood.

"And hang another unit of O neg, he's losing too much blood," Teddy added, "there was nothing in his medical history that indicated he was at risk of DIC...Veronica! Is he on blood thinners?"

Veronica dragged herself over to the intercom and pushed in on the button, "n-no, nothing like that, he takes zolpidem sometimes, but that wouldn't cause DIC..." she muttered.

Something clicked in her brain, and she spun round to face Derek, "you said he fell before he got shot."

Derek nodded, "that's right, the woman the unsub had abducted pushed past him to escape, and he fell down the full flight of stairs. That distracted me long enough for the unsub to get a shot in at him...."

"Teddy! He fell before he was shot, he fell down a flight of stairs, he could have a splenic injury or a laceration on the portal vein or hepatic artery- it wouldn't have been picked up on a chest x-ray. You have to do an ex-lap!"

"Veronica, we've already cracked his chest-" Owen began to protest.

"Pressures dropping, doctor!"

Veronica banged on the glass, "he'd rather be alive with two incisions than dead with one."

"Dr Hunt, you're the trauma surgeon this your call," Teddy said calmly, "but we need to do something and fast."

"We don't even know if he has a splenic injury! We can't take medical suggestions from our patient's hysterical girlfriend; that isn't how it works-"

"He's dying," Veronica wailed, "and he's going to die if you don't do something. If it were Cristina on my table, you would be begging me to do whatever it takes to save her. Teddy – you promised me you would do everything you could, and you're not doing anything! He's bleeding to death, and you aren't helping him," she sobbed against the glass.

Teddy and Owen exchanged a look.

"10 blade," Owen grimaced, and Veronica breathed a sigh of relief, "you better be right about this Grey – convert drapes for an ex-lap!"

"Oh God, I can't watch this," JJ said; she flopped back into her seat as Owen made a deep incision into Spencer's abdomen.

Despite dealing with horrific crime scenes daily, everyone else in the team had to follow JJ's lead as floods of blood gushed from the incision site. Garcia, who had screwed her eyes shut the minute the monitors started beeping, was rocking herself back and forth and mumbling under her breath.

"Okay, I need more suction! I'm seeing some damage to the hepatic artery," Teddy said, "can you ligate it from your side?"

"Yeah, I think so, clamp!"

Veronica wished she could be like Spencer's team. She wished she didn't have a medical degree; she wished she didn't know every possible thing that could go wrong from this point forward. She wished she could close her eyes or at least tear them away from the scene that would plague her nightmares for years to come.

She could hardly believe it when his pressure finally stabilised; she embraced the smile that crept onto her face as she watched the readings on the monitor slowly begin to climb up.

"You can open your eyes now; they ligated the artery and stopped the bleeding, combined with the heparin that should be enough to keep him stable for now."

"For now?" JJ questioned.

"He's doing well; that injury could've been fatal, but he pulled through, and that's good; it's just that I don't want to tell you he's out of the woods when he's far from it."

"It's been hours," JJ said, "how much longer before we know if he'll be okay?"

Veronica shrugged, "probably a couple more hours; they need to make sure the wall of the thoracic aorta is strong enough before they close and remove all the bullet fragments; they need to take their time."

"You'll have to forgive us, Dr Grey," Hotch spoke quietly, "we don't have the patience for this kind of thing like you do."

"It's okay, and you can call me Veronica," she smiled nervously and picked at her nails.

This was what she'd wanted all along, to meet Spencer's team. But now, she was standing in front of them and couldn't think of a single thing to say. She had imagined this moment every night for months, but never in her wildest dreams did it go like this.

"Veronica then," he said stiffly, "so you said you're a neurosurgeon?"

"Yeah," she said, tearing her eyes away from the surgery in front of her to face him, "that's how Spencer and I met; he came to a lecture I gave on the Endoscopic Fenestration of Arachnoid Cysts Through Lateral Pontomesencephalic Membranotomy, cos' that's just the kind of things he does for fun," she snorted.

"Sounds like him," Hotch said, smiling fondly.

"I just can't believe he never told us about you," Emily commented, "and I can't believe we never figured it out; I mean, come on, guys, we're meant to be profilers."

Veronica gritted her teeth, "Yeah, me neither..."

"Veronica!" Jackson said, bursting through the door to the gallery, "I just got away from the gala; how's he doing?" he asked, rushing over to embrace her in a tight hug.

"He's stable for now; his temp has come up a lot since he got here, but he did go into DIC, and they had to convert to an ex-lap..."

"Owen and Teddy will be doing everything they can; he'll be okay."

She nodded, "I know...I just want it to be over; even if he was in the CCU, I could handle it, but he's lying open on an operating table, and I can't help him."

He rubbed circles on her back soothingly, "it'll be over soon. Can I get you anything?"

"Something to change into. I don't think I have any clothes in my locker, but just grab me some scrubs... I'd take a patient gown if it meant I could get out of this dress," she said, tugging again at the restrictive top.

"You got it," he said, breaking away from their hug, "April wanted to come and be with you, but Harriett's with the sitter and she had to-"

"Don't worry about it, just get me something to wear. I can't breathe in this thing."

"Yeah, I'm on it," he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, "Cristina's on her way; she'll be here soon."

Jackson shuffled out of the gallery, giving a nod and a tight-lipped smile to the others as he passed them. Veronica retook a seat.

"That was Jackson," Veronica explained, noting the confused faces of the BAU team members, "Dr Jackson Avery, he works here too, but he was stuck at the gala - we were having this fundraiser for this hospital...stupid...."

"V! I just heard; why didn't you tell me?" Cristina burst into the gallery in a similar fashion to Jackson, "I had to hear from freaking Avery that your sexy FBI boyfriend got shot?" she berated as she sat down next to Veronica.

Veronica shrugged, "Jackson was there when I got the call. You were busy turning up the charm for that rich old sleaze."

Cristina shoved her lightly, "I'll have you know that rich old sleaze donated 1.5 million dollars to this hospital," she said smugly.

"Show off," Veronica grunted, folding her arms over her chest.

Cristina stood up to peer through the glass, "supervisory sexy agent, has Owen and Teddy working on him? You need to calm down and stop chewing your nails; he'll be fine."

Veronica rolled her eyes, "you need to stop calling my boyfriend supervisory sexy agent, or you'll be the one on the table."

"Aw, come on, I'm kidding! My husband is right down there...oh my god, my husband saves your boyfriend from a GSW? That'll be such a good story for me to tell your kids."

"Can we wait to see if he makes it off the table before we start discussing our hypothetical children?"

"Boring."

Jackson returned at that moment, "sorry, I didn't know your scrub size, so I just guessed. And you didn't have any shoes in your locker, so I stole some sneakers from April, you're the same size, and she won't mind - I also brought you some of her makeup wipes," he rambled, handing her the pile of clothes.

"Stealing shoes from your ex-wife now?" Cristina teased as Jackson sat down on the other side of Veronica, "I thought pretty boy Avery was rich enough to buy his own," she cooed.

Veronica stood up and slid the scrub pants on under her dress, and pulled the scrub top over the top. Cristina unzipped her dress, and she let out a deep breath as the pressure on her rib cage was released; she shimmied the dress off and threw it over an empty chair.

"Shut up, Yang," Jackson grunted.

"Children, behave," Veronica said warningly as she slipped on the socks and shoes she was borrowing from April.

Veronica sat back down and finished wiping off the makeup that hadn't been flushed away by her tears. Jackson gripped her hand tight in his, and she smiled appreciatively at him; Cristina gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"Guys, what if he dies?" she whispered as they watched Teddy and Owen work away on Spencer.

"He won't," Jackson protested, "he didn't code in the field, and the majority of GSW victims without penetrating vascular injuries survive if they get to a hospital on time."

"There is a bullet in his chest cavity! That is a penetrating injury," she blubbered.

"But it didn't directly damage his heart or any major arteries; yes, they could be weakened by force, but he's been in surgery for hours, and nothing has ruptured – plus after they close him up, we'll monitor him closely, and he will be okay," he said with a squeeze of her hand.

"Avery's right. It's far more likely he'll be a vegetable or something," Cristina shrugged.

"Yang! His best friends are right behind you," Jackson hissed.

"They are?" Cristina said, whipping her head around, "oh, hi."

Cristina gave them a wave, and they stared back dumbfounded.

"Who the hell are these people?" Emily hissed.

"I don't know, but they seem to think that Spence is gonna be okay, and that's all that matters to me," JJ answered.

"He could still die; people die from GSWs all the time. There could be complications, he could get an infection-"

"Look, Veronica, if the worst happens, then we can cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? And you know we'll all be here for you, no matter what," Jackson said, and Veronica smiled appreciatively at him.

"Thank you," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Y'know, you should've married him when you had the chance - cos' if he dies and you were his wife, you'd get that life insurance. If he dies now, you'll just be poor and sad."

"Cristina!"

"No, it's okay," Veronica said with a slight smile, "it helps."

"God, talk about a dark sense of humour...."

"I think I'm just still drunk," Cristina shrugged.

"I think I'm hungover already; my head is killing me," Veronica groaned, massaging her temples.

"Want me to get you a banana bag?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, why not."

Jackson stood up and made his way across the gallery and to the door; he turned back to face the BAU team members, "can I get anything for you guys? Coffee, water…I wouldn't recommend the food, but we got vending machines."

"No, thank you," Hotch answered politely, "anyone else?"

The rest of the team shook their heads or mumbled no thank-yous in response. Jackson gave them a sympathetic smile before leaving; JJ's stare was still firmly fixed on Veronica.

"What did she mean? You should've married him when you had the chance?" she asked.

"It means that supervisory sexy agent-"

"Cristina!"

"Fine, Spencer, asked V to marry him, and she said no cos' she can't let herself be happy."

"That isn't why I said no, and you know it."

"Well, no. But your real reason is stupid, so I'm gonna say it's your self-destructive tendencies instead. Do you know what I've give to never have to interact with Owen's dumb work friends? You're getting the best of both worlds here."

"You work in the same hospital! Owen's dumb work friends are your colleagues."

"Ugh, whatever."

"You turned Reid down because of us?" Rossi questioned, speaking for the first time since they had entered the gallery.

"It's a bit more complicated than that-"

"What's wrong with us? You didn't even meet us until today?" JJ snapped.

Veronica sighed and picked at her nails; her first interaction with Spencer's friends already wasn't going very well, and now she had to tread lightly as to not offend anyone.

"That's the problem; it took Spencer getting shot in the chest for us to meet because he refused to tell you about me; how could I marry someone when I'd never even met his friends? It's what we argue about more than anything else. We argued about it this morning actually...."

The blood drained away from Veronica's face as the events of the day flashed through her mind.

She turned to face Cristina, "oh God, we were arguing this morning about it, and again when I dropped his phone off at work - the last conversation we ever had was about that stupid argument. What if he dies thinking that I'm pissed off at him? I didn't even tell him I loved him before I stormed off," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Well, he's a profiler, right? Even if you didn't say it, he would be able to tell...."

"He's a genius, not a psychic, Cristina."

"She's right," Derek interjected, "before he lost consciousness, he told me to call you and tried to say something else; he kept saying tell her... he never got to finish, but I'm sure it was just that he loved you."

"He really said that?"

Derek nodded, and a weight was lifted from Veronica's shoulders, although she quickly felt uneasy again when Jackson returned, IV kit and banana bag in hand.

"Okay, I know you don't like needles, but it'll make you feel better, so give me your arm," he demanded.

Veronica huffed and begrudgingly gave him her arm; she winced as he pushed the needle through her skin, "ow! I thought plastic surgeons were supposed to have a gentle touch."

"Plastics is barely even a real speciality; Avery gives boob jobs on the daily – we do real surgeries and save lives."

"Hey! I'm also a qualified ENT, and I practically run the burn unit-"

"Guys," Veronica groaned, "can you have your little dick-measuring-contest another time? Maybe like when my boyfriend isn't lying open on an operating table?" she said, gently massaging the tender skin around her IV.

"You said you liked my dark humour!"

"Only when it's funny," she sat down again and massaged her temples "hey, I think they're nearly done," Veronica cheered.

She dashed over to the intercom, "Are you guys closing him up?"

Teddy nodded, "yeah, and then we'll be taking him up to the CCU. You should get some rest before he wakes up," she advised.

"He's going to be okay, Veronica," Owen said; she couldn't see his face under his mask, but she could tell he was smiling.

Veronica couldn't fight the grin spreading across her own face; Spencer was going to live. He was going to make it off the table. Now all she had to do was pray that he woke up because Veronica didn't know how she would cope if she never saw his eyes again.

"He's really going to be okay?" JJ whispered; she held her hands up to her lips in a prayer formation as fresh tears spilt over onto her cheeks.

Emily pulled her into a tight embrace and stroked her hair, "Hey, don't cry. The doctor said he's going to be okay."

She nodded against Emily's chest, "I know, these are happy tears – it's just I've been sitting here for the past four hours wondering what I would tell Henry if his Uncle Spence died and now, he's going to be okay, and I'm crying more than when I thought he was going to die…stupid," she mumbled.

"It's not stupid," Veronica offered kindly, "your body has been in panic mode and how that you're finally able to relax a bit, you get an emotional outburst that makes you cry – it's totally normal," she said, tentatively reaching out her hand to take JJ's.

She nodded and gave Veronica's hand a squeeze, smiling at her for the first time since they had met. The mood in the room had shifted as the BAU members slowly began to accept that their teammate was going to live, and the nervous tension began to dissipate.

"Teddy's going to close him up and then wheel him up to the CCU, Cristina are you staying or coming home?" Owen's voice echoed through the intercom.

"I'm staying obviously!" she said indignantly.

Veronica shook her head, "no, it's okay, you go home."

"V, I can't leave you here-"

"It's fine, Cristina. You're working in the morning, and you'll need to be here for rounds at 6am, and you won't be any use to anyone if you're sleep-deprived. So, go home. Besides, I've got Avery to keep me company."

Cristina gave her an appreciative smile and squeezed her hand one last time before she left the room. A wave of jealousy surged in Veronica's chest as Cristina disappeared from her line of sight; it wasn't her fault that she was going home with her husband whilst Spencer was being stitched back together. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

"I'm so sorry, V," Jackson said, holding up his phone, "it's one of my burn patients, she's got an infection, and I think I'm the only sober attending after the gala…I can send a resident-"

"No, no, it's okay," she smiled sadly, "go and help your patient; she needs you more than I do."

"Page me if you need anything," he said, kissing her forehead gently before leaving her alone with the BAU team.

She was in a room with seven other people, but she had never felt more alone. They were clutching onto each other, whispering amongst themselves and smiling; Veronica didn't have anyone.

She shuffled away from the displays of affection and picked up her dress and shoes, "I'm going to put this stuff in the attending's lounge, there's coffee in there if you want anything – and on-call room seven is always empty if any of you need to sleep. He won't be awake for a while; you should get some rest," she said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

"Thank you, Veronica," Derek said; he nodded over Garcia's head as he held her in his arms, "I don't think any of us will get much sleep until pretty boy wakes up, though."

Veronica laughed, "pretty boy, I always thought he was exaggerating when he said you called him that. If you don't want to sleep, that's fine, but you can't stay in here – the interns like to hang out in here before pre-rounds, and they'll be here soon," she said before gripping onto her IV pole and swiftly exiting the gallery.

Tears burned in her eyes as she made her way to the attending's lounge, grabbing a replacement banana bag from the nurse's station on her way; Spencer was going to be okay. He was going to wake up and have his team to comfort him, fetch him jello, keep him company through the recovery and bring homemade meals to his apartment. What else could she do for him that they couldn't?

She burst into the attending's lounge and slammed the door shut behind her. She let out a heart-wrenching sob as she shoved the dress into her locker, growing frustrated and kicking it when the poufy, underlayers of the skirt wouldn't fit.

Maybe that's why he had never introduced her to the team because he already had seven people who loved him unconditionally and could give him all the love he needed. And Spencer didn't want her to know that; what could she do for him that they couldn't?

Veronica darted into the bathroom and held her own hair bag as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. Maybe she was just a fuck to Spencer, an outlet to release his frustrations after a hard day. Assuming he wasn't fucking any of his teammates, that was the only thing she was good for that they couldn't give.

Derek said that his last words before he passed out were about her; he asked him to call her. He tried to give her a message – why did Veronica not share Derek's confidence that the message was I love you?

She flushed the toilet and washed her mouth out with water from the tap. Her headache was beginning to subside, but she still switched out her banana bag before she limped out of the bathroom, using the IV pole as a support.

Veronica threw herself onto the couch. She wanted to scream, or kick something else or rip her own hair out, but she simply didn't have the energy to do anything except shut her eyes and drift off to sleep. The image of Spencer's open chest cavity and the knowledge that his team were everything she was and more burned into her brain.

***

Spencer's brain was awake before his body was. He was acutely aware of people moving around his room, but their voices were muffled, and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to see who they were.

There was a tight sensation in his throat, and suddenly, Spencer started gagging violently.

"He's fighting the intubation!" a voice called out, "page Dr Altman."

Dr Altman. He knew that name, he thought to himself. But his brain was still too hazy from the anaesthesia to think straight. Dr Altman…something to do with cardiothoracic surgery – probably one of his doctors. But where had they met before?

He felt hands all over him, grabbing at his neck and face; there was a horrible scraping sensation in his throat, and then he could breathe freely again. He's fighting the intubation, the voice had said. That was good; that meant he was breathing on his own.

However, he couldn't appreciate the joy of knowing he wouldn't be hooked to a ventilator for the rest of his life whilst his throat ached like that. The tube had been removed, but he still felt his gag reflex at the threshold of triggering.

He really needed to get Veronica more credit for that.

His limbs were heavy, he tried to at least wriggle his fingers, but they wouldn't move. The muffled voices which echoed around him were beginning to become clearer; he could make out what sounded to be JJ's voice by his head.

Finally, his brain allowed his eyes to flicker open. But he immediately wanted to screw them shut again when the blinding fluorescent glare of the ceiling lights shone down on him.

"Oh my god," JJ gasped, "he's awake!"

He couldn't move his head to see her, but her worried face quickly appeared in front of his, "Spencer? Spencer, can you hear me?" she asked frantically.

"Ow," he mumbled in response.

"Thank God you're okay," she said, stroking his hair as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You gave us a scare, pretty boy."

Spencer strained his eyes enough to see Derek standing in the corner; he leant against the wall with his arms folded tight across his chest, but Spencer could clearly see the grin he was fighting.

"What happened?" he groaned, trying to readjust his body into a more comfortable position.

"Hey, don't try and move," JJ scolded lightly, "the nurse said that you'll be groggy from the anaesthesia for a while," she took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

"Did we get him? The unsub?"

"Yeah, don't you worry about him, kid, he's going away for a long time," Derek reassured, "he got a shot in at you before we could take him down… I'm so sorry, kid, you fell, and it distracted me long enough for him to shot you before I could shoot him."

"Hey, it's not your fault," JJ said, "it could've happened to any of us."

Spencer nodded in agreement but didn't try and speak again; his head was throbbing, and he closed her eyes again, the darkness providing some brief relief from the brilliant light above his head. But with every passing second, Spencer became increasingly aware of the dull aches in his chest and abdomen, the pain growing sharper with each intake of breath.

"How many times did I get shot?" he groaned, "I can't remember anything…but my whole body hurts."

JJ bit her lip as she continued to stroke his hair, "just once, Spence, but you fell down the stairs just before you got him and it injured…something, I don't know what – I can't remember what she said," JJ looked over to Derek for a prompt, but he shook his head in response.

"Hey, don't look at me; I didn't understand a single word any of those doctors said," Derek shrugged, "Dr Altman is coming to check on you, though, kid. I'm sure she'll explain it all to you."

Dr Teddy Altman!

They met at Cristina and Owen's wedding; Spencer could tell she was in love with the groom and distracted her with a rant on Mechanical Complications of Acute Myocardial Infarction. She was Veronica's friend.

Oh god, Veronica. She must be so worried – if Derek had even called her that was, she might be oblivious to his condition. Spencer was ready to open his mouth to as about her, but JJ was already speaking again before he had the chance.

"…and our resident genius will definitely be able to understand better than us," she said, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead, "I've never been so nervous as when we were sitting in that gallery, thank god those doctors fixed you up."

"Wait, what gallery?" Spencer asked, opening his eyes to squint at her, her words distracting him long enough to forget to ask about Veronica.

JJ paused and exchanged a look with Derek, "we hoped you wouldn't mind – we were in the OR gallery during your surgery, but we didn't actually see anything," she reassured, "none of us could actually bring ourselves to watch, but we just wanted to be there, in case anything happened to you."

"Not that we'd have been much help," Derek chuckled, "but I got you to the hospital in one piece. I wasn't about to let you out of my sight until you were stable."

Spencer nodded slowly, "how did you even get in there?" he mumbled.

"Veronica," Derek said, "you asked me to call her, and she came straight over, but she wasn't about to sit around in any waiting room, so she found out where you were…we just followed her up there."

Spencer tugged on his blanket, "so…you met her then?"

JJ nodded stiffly, "we did."

"Oh. Suppose I did ask you to call her, I don't know what I expected…."

"We didn't get a chance to talk much," Derek said carefully, "you were touch-and-go a bit in surgery, so it was a bit too tense for small talk."

JJ moved away from him and sat back in the chair next to his bed; she picked at her nails, "I don't get why you never told us about her, Spence?"

Spencer didn't answer her. This was not how he wanted this conversation to go; in fact, he was hoping he'd never have to have this conversation at all. The rational part of his brain knew that was unrealistic, but the rational part of his brain didn't seem to exist when it came to protecting Veronica.

He shrugged, "I didn't think you guys needed to know."

Derek unfolded his arms and moved out of the corner, coming to rest at the end of Spencer's bed, "didn't need to know? You've been making excuses about this to me all day, kid. And I'm not buying the - you wanted to have something to yourself - bullshit anymore-"

"You asked her to marry you," JJ said, her voice cracking slightly, "you wanted her to be your wife, but you didn't even tell us about her? Were you just going to get married without any of us there?"

"She told you that?"

Spencer had the strength to ball one of his fists; this was going horribly. The tension he had created in his hand spread up his arm and along to his chest. He grimaced as another sharp stab of pain rippled across his body.

JJ shook her head, "no, her friend mentioned it, and we overheard. I don't get it, Spence, we're supposed to be like family, and she…we didn't get to talk, but she seems nice. And she's a doctor – she's smart like you, and she obviously loves you. Did you think we wouldn't like her?"

"No, and she said no to me anyway, so it doesn't matter…."

"She only said no because you wouldn't introduce her to us," Derek stated bluntly, "that's what she said when we asked her about it and considering I didn't even know she existed till this morning, I can't say that I blame her."

"Guys, I will explain later, I promise," Spencer began as he tried to sit up in the bed, "but I need to talk to Veronica. Right now – where is she?"

"She is in a patient room down the hall," Dr Altman said as she waltzed into the room and picked up Spencer's chart from the end of his bed, "nice to see you awake, Dr Reid."

"A patient room – i-is she okay?" Spencer stammered.

Teddy peered over the chart to look at his concerned face, "she'll be fine, she's just dehydrated and a bit hungover – we've got her on an IV. Besides, the couch in the attending's lounge is not the place you want to sleep unless you want to give yourself scoliosis."

Spencer tried to move one of his legs, "I need to go see her, I need to explain everything, I-"

"You need to lay back down," Teddy said as she moved over to his bedside and pressed her stethoscope against his chest, "I need to listen to your chest, take a deep breath for me-"

Spencer begrudgingly breathed in.

"-breath sounds are clear and equal, that's a good sign," Teddy said, hanging the stethoscope back around her neck, "and your latest round of labs are all within normal limits. Dr Hunt and I were able to remove all the bullet fragments during surgery, we were concerned that the impact could've weakened the wall of your thoracic aorta, but it seems unaffected."

Spencer nodded, "okay."

“We had to convert to an exploratory laparotomy mid-surgery; you had some bleeding in your abdomen which we needed to repair; that's why you have two incision sites. They will likely leave scars, I'm afraid, but the abdominal bleeding triggered a condition called DIC and would have been fatal had we not caught the bleeders."

Spencer's brain was spinning. He knew he had been in bad shape, but he really nearly died. He needed to talk to Veronica, and fast.

"…it was actually Veronica who made the connection between your fall and the bleeding. She wasn't even operating, and she saved your life," Teddy smiled at him, "I just need to take a peek at your incision sites, and then I'll be out of your hair."

Spencer winced as she lifted up his bandages to take a closer look.

"Okay, they look all good and no signs of infection. You will need at least another day for observation; I'll get the nurse to administer your post-op antibiotics, so let her know if there's anything else you need."

"He won't admit it, but he's in pain. Can he get any more morphine or something?" JJ asked, biting her nail.

"What? No, I'm fine. I don't need any more painkillers; I'm all good!"

Teddy raised an eyebrow at him, "you just had major surgery, but you don't want more pain meds?" she asked sceptically, "you aren't maxed out on anything; I can order more-"

"No," Spencer snapped, "I mean…no thank you, Dr Altman. They make me too disoriented, and I need to be clear-headed when I talk to Veronica," he said, adjusting his tone.

Teddy gave him one last suspicious look before she moved back towards the door, "okay, no more pain meds. I'll let Veronica know you're awake," she said before exiting the room, closing the sliding glass door behind her.

Spencer let out a deep sigh of relief and relaxed back into his pillows slightly. Even the brief conversation with Dr Altman had left him exhausted, so he wasn't sure how he would manage when the rest of the team flocked to his bedside to question him about his condition and Veronica.

Veronica.

That was going to be a long conversation.

JJ and Derek stayed by his side as the nurse came in to administer his antibiotics, just as Dr Altman had said.

"Hotch and Rossi had to go sort some things out with the arrest," Derek had informed him, "they said they'll stop by later when they can."

"And Emily and Garcia are in the cafeteria, we've let them know you're awake, but we didn't want to overwhelm you with too many visitors at once," JJ explained, "and Garcia really needed some sugar. She's been freaking out, Emily's trying to get her to eat something," she chuckled.

"I feel bad I caused all this stress…." Spencer mumbled.

"Course we're worried about you, Spence; we're a family. But you didn't cause us stress; it's not your fault," JJ reassured; she leaned closer to Spencer to grip his hand in hers.

"Exactly, it's the unsub's fault. You didn't choose to get shot," Derek added; he shuffled over to the bed from his corner and took hold of Spencer's other hand.

The three of them sat in comfortable and heartfelt silence for a few moments with their hands intertwined until they were interrupted by a hesitant voice in the doorway.

"Uh, sorry, I did mean to interrupt. I'll come back later…."

part 3 coming soon

sorry there’s not too much spencer in this part, i promise there will be more in part 3 when veronica and spencer have their confrontation

if you enjoyed this please consider leaving a comment as it really keeps me motivated, and reblogging! i really appreciate likes but on the tumblr reblogs are the only way to get my work out there x

tagging anyone who commented on part 1, message me/ comment if you want to be tagged for part 3:

@dilaurantisbitch

masterlist

i also take imagine requests!

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #soencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #hurt and comfort #angst #derek morgan #greys anatomy #cristina yang #jackson avery #april kepner

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leejeongz · 3 years

Text

nsfw a-z JUNKYU (treasure)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

lots of cuddles and stroking your skin. he wants to make you feel calmer than you did even before the scene, calm enough to fall asleep. he can sense when you’re back to being your usual self but the softness doesn’t stop.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he has two favourites on his own body and on you! on him, it’s his lips and his legs. his legs because well it’s junkyu he has fabulous legs duh. and his lips because he constantly notices you staring at them. he bites them on purpose when he sees you staring at them and knows that you want to kiss them 24/7

on you, he likes your hair and your fingers the most. he likes the way your fingers wrap around his dick and how you tease the tip with your index finger, sending him straight to heaven. and he likes to stroke your hair. he knows it sends shivers down your spine when you’re already turned on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he definitely looks forward to seeing you covered in his cum. even if you let him cum inside you, he doesn’t because he wants to see it actually on your body. he lovessss watching it trickle down your fingers before you suck it off them and also clean the remaining liquid off his dick too. he also sometimes has you take selfies on his phone after he’s finished all over your face for a later date.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when you sit by him in your short dresses and skirts, he wants to do nothing more than to slowly inch his hand up your inner thigh and finger you, making you leave a damp patch on the seat, but he’s nervous that other people in the room might notice.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

2 different partners, one of which was a long time girlfriend, the other a one night stand. he can be romantic, he can be distant, he knows it all. he’s still a little shy with saying things out loud, but that doesn’t affect his skill and will happily discuss things via text.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ride him and he’ll be your whiney little bitch. don’t get me wrong, he’s still in charge, but the noises and the faces he pulls have you fooled for a second. he doesn’t have a preference, reverse cowgirl and cowgirl are even, both get him to cum quicker than any other position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s a silly guy, you think that’s gonna stop just because he’s got his dick out? he’s so loving, even if you are friends with benefits, he just wants to make you smile and to make you feel comfortable and safe, as well as making himself feel comfortable too. a tense atmosphere is only saved for those scenes where you are mad at each other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he’s always completely shaved. balls too :)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s a huge romantic and is solely focused on you. even if he’s desperate, he’s still gonna make it loving and share lots of intimate moments with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he takes his time when it comes to masturbation. he wants to set the scene in his mind as takes a lot to actually turn him on when you aren’t there. he usually gets off at his desk to those pics he’s taken of you or to just his imagination. he gets caught by his members a lot, but he somehow convinces them he’s just working on a song.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he loves when you call him sir or master, especially when you look at him all innocently. it lets him know that you know your place and that he has you wrapped around his little finger. call him one of these in a sfw context and that’s when you know you’re in for a good time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

studio or at his desk in his room. although it not ideal for his job, the best sex usually happens when you’re distracting him from something you can tell that he’s stressed with. giving him head while he’s working or while he’s gaming usually gets him really turned on and as much as he’s saying that you guys can’t do anything at the time, you definitely can and will.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

pictures of you! it’s not secret that he has a folder of pictures of you that he uses to get off to. your selfie’s alone really turn him on, especially the ones where you have your fingers in your mouth. but of course there’s plenty of nudes and little teasers in there too. and those pics of your face covered in him cum of course.

lingerie!! boy loves seeing you in the sexiest pieces and sets, so much so that he doesn’t mind splashing the cash and buying you some as a “just because” gift. he’s very gentle (most of the time) and does not rip them because they’re stunning on you! but sometimes he gets carried away and tugs on them a little too much while pulling you towards him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no food play. it’s too messy and too much of a hassle after a scene when he’s super tired.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

my mind always goes to junkyu getting head under his desk while he’s producing a song, tell me that wouldn't be hot. i can imagine him to be quite whiney but he just lets you do your thing without telling you how to suck it. running the underneath of your tongue over the tip is for sure something that he CRAVES. if he asks he gets, but he just wants you to do it anyway without even being asked.

his oral skills aren’t anything special, they’re good enough, but he gets you so worked up beforehand that the slightest touch will make you cum. he loves to press little kisses against your inner thighs before actually getting to eating you out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

most times, he wants it slow. he wants to drag out every last moment and make the most of everything and so he keeps the pace slow. he doesn’t wanna tire you or himself out, knowing that you’ll both crave more after the first round. but sometimes he’s a little desperate, there’s nothing slow about it when he’s like this.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he’s not a fan at first, but you soon show him the wonders of quickies in a vacant room where you can get caught, and he’s craving them all the damn time. he becomes a quickie lover and sometimes all he needs is to be satisfied for a while.

honestly though, he wouldn’t choose them over somewhere comfortable like your bedroom and wonders why you’d rather do stuff quickly when you could just wait a few more hours and get ruined properly. if only he understood that sometimes, you just cannot wait, and that it’s all his fault.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he gets excited at just the mere thought of experiments and venturing into a new world with you. the potential danger of literally anything out of the ordinary happening is something that really gets him going. he’s down to try anything once if you are, but he gets a little shy about discussing them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

usually 2 rounds with a small break in the middle for water and such. he can last around 15 minutes per round inside of you and he’s pretty proud of himself for that lmao, especially since he’s receiving head for like 20 mins lol

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he loves knowing that you use toys when he’s not around, it gets him horny to think about you holding a vibrator against your clit while you think about him. but i don’t think such toys would be welcome in the bedroom while he was there.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

angry/jealous sex, there is no teasing at all. he gets what he wants and that’s it, there’s nothing in it for you (or so he thinks). if you don’t cum that’s your problem because he’s given you ample opportunity.

normal, “everyday” sex, is full of teasing, especially when it comes to giving you oral/foreplay. there’s lots of kissing, lots of orgasm denial and LOTS of touches and kisses. pressing light kisses onto your clothed clit was his signature move, just one had you wanting to cum sometimes.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s whiney as FUCK okay. he’s very loud,you can definitely hear him, maybe even some other people too hehe. sometimes he sends you voice notes of him moaning when he knows you’re horny and alone. he’s not really into dirty talk because he doesn’t want to say anything that will ruin the mood.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he runs his hand through his hair A LOT while you two are being intimate, especially when your lips are wrapped around his length. usually his hair gets sweaty and also, he wants to see you, so you catch him brushing it out of his face a lot.

he’s definitely a tits man. he loves to hold them, sleep on them, suck on them, whatever you/he wants. he holds them while he fucks you because he knows it hurts, it’s a win win. they aren’t always sexual to him either, they’re just another part of you that he can admire (but he’s too shy to compliment you on them and also thinks it would be kinda weird if he did lol)

he. kisses. you. constantly. the kisses are often broken by the thrusts but he doesn’t care and he actually thinks it makes the whole thing more romantic.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

just over average length with a litter under average thickness. i think he’s a show-er too.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

honestly, not that high. he goes through spells of not wanting any to wanting it twice a day, but on the whole, it's not extraordinarily high nor low

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s pretty tired, but he doesn’t want to fall asleep until you have or you’ve said it’s okay for him to sleep. he’s a little groggy so you usually make him go to sleep whenever, but it’s also really cute 🥺

#treasure smut #treasure #treasure imagines #junkyu #junkyu smut

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Note

my time to shine- may i request a cobb vanth x reader 👀👀 maybe a enemies to lovers question mark trope-

for example maybe when din meets cobb, the reader is just like ohmyfuckhessohot but also fuck him for being so cocky i want him underneath me once i pin his arrogant ass down- and like 👀 maybe yk what that happens, and the reader can feel his bulg- 🏃‍♀️💨💨💨 i have nothing but horny thots for middle-aged men in my peabrain- s'ok if you don't do this- just horny thots

By The Fire (Cobb Vanth x Female Reader) SMUT

hiya bae!!! im so sorry this request took SO long to get out but i hope you enjoy it none the less xx

if you have a request feel free to submit it via my ask inbox!

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2k

Warnings: SMUT; close to female receiving oral but not all the way, cock warming, spanking, riding, unprotected (use protection!)

So he was different, and you couldn't figure out how you were supposed to feel about him. If the Maker had just granted you a second alone with Din, you would have spoken to the Mandalorian about him. Din was always good at weighing people up from first glance. You, on the other hand, had always been called 'naïve' and 'gullible'. You tried working on yourself; you really did- and you believed you were improving. But when you met the marshal of Mos Pelgo; he threw you completely of course. You couldn't do anything under his watch. You failed to perform the most basic of the tasks… you couldn't hotwire the speeder bike you had claimed, nor could you manoeuvre the squirming child into his high chair. And it didn't go unnoticed.

Din grabbed your arm and took you to one side. "What is the matter with you?" his question was harsh, and came out as more of a statement. You felt yourself fluster, defensively folding your arms across your chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about." you scoffed and rolled your eyes. Under his beskar helmet, Din was not amused. He narrowed his dark eyes and pressed his lips into a fine line.

"Ever since he joined us, you've been acting off." Din said matter of factly. You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

"Oh," you shrugged nonchalantly. "You mean the Marshal?"

"Yes. The Marshal." Din spat. "Cobb Vanth is an elite. He is smart. He knows what he's doing. And he owes me one. He's going to help us get off this sand-rock of a planet, and then you can finally forget about him. Because that's what it is, isn't it? He's on your mind and it's distracting you."

Maker, he was good. He could read you like a book. Everything Din had said was true, no matter the level of denial that you were in. You stood there, comprehending his words, and after a few prolonged beats of silence, you took a deep breath.

"No." you shakily exhaled, gritting your teeth and pursing your lips together into a pout.

You cursed yourself. You were a bad liar. The worst Din had ever met… and Din had encountered plenty of scoundrels in his adventures across the galaxy. Din didn't answer you. He didn't need to. He knew you well enough to understand what exactly was going on in that little mind of yours. There was no use playing innocent with him.

The Marshal’s eyes were burning into your back. You hated it. You hated him. You hated the way he spoke to you. He over-explained everything, like you were too young and innocent to understand. He was so cocky and so arrogant. You tried your best to devise an efficient way to get off Tatooine, with his help, but he just kept shutting you down. You couldn't understand it. He wouldn't listen to you, and it irked you so much.

You hated the smirk that graced his lips and that sultry gaze he shot you from across the cantina as he sipped on his spotchka. You hated the way it made you feel. You hated the burning sensation that erupted in the pit of your stomach and the way you'd have to press your thighs together in order to suppress the need for some kind of sexual release. Never in your life had you met a man who could do so much to you, without doing much at all.

"I'm going to travel to the sand dunes, and I'm taking the child. Hopefully I can find some jawas who will trade parts with me. Then we can get started on the Crest's repairs and get off this planet." Din informed you. "I need you to wait here with the Marshal, make sure he doesn't do anything suspicious while I'm gone."

"I thought you said you trusted him," you knotted your eyebrows together. "That he 'owed you one'."

"He does owe me one. I just don't know if he's a man of his word." Din sighed before spinning around on his heel and walking towards the speeder bike with the child. Pft, a man of his word. That scoundrel? Not a chance.

Nights on Tatooine were warm and humid, as you had found out. The Marshal, who you had learned was named Cobb Vanth, had told you to collect sandwood from the outskirts of Mos Pelgo and bring them back to his hut. You did so, begrudgingly following his instruction, and watched him make a fire.

There was something so erotic about the way his biceps flexed as he quickly rubbed each piece of wood together, trying to ignite a flame. Beads of sweat laced his hairline as he concentrated, occasionally squinting to see if his attempts had made a spark. It didn't take long before Cobb created a roaring campfire. It was nice, amber embers floating through the air as you perched yourself on a log. Cobb discarded his armour and sat opposite you.

The atmosphere was nice and…. sensual. The only thing was, neither you or Cobb hate uttered a word to each other since you came back with the sandwood. It would've been awkward if there wasn't the undeniable sexual tension in the air. You were the first to speak.

"I don't know if I trust you." you said, immediately regretting the words after they departed your lips. There was a beat of silence.

"Smart." Cobb smirked, and you felt yourself swell up with more fury. His voice was so rich. You hated it. You hated it.

"You hardly think I am smart when you've refused to listen to me all day." You tsked, shuffling closer to the fire and warming yourself up. "My plan wasn't flawed. If you had just listened to me, me and the Mandalorian could've been off this wretched hive hours ago."

Cobb nodded his head slowly. "You're probably right."

"So what's your deal?" you groaned, tossing your hair back and closing your eyes.

What a sight. Cobb admired your stretched out form, his eyes boring into the skin of your chest and up the length of your neck. You had ditched your cloak, leaving it to just crumple by your feet. You were glowing. Cobb was sure you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen enter Mos Pelgo; and he wanted to prove that to you in some way or another. When you opened your eyes, Cobb was on his knees, in-between your legs.

He looked up at you, his eyes completely lust blown and he swiped his tongue over his lower lip. He looked primal. He needed you. "Wasn't listening to your stupid plan because I didn't want you to leave so early." Cobb admitted, his voice gruff and hoarse.

He wanted more. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he had been trying to weigh you up as well. What was your deal? Were you courting the Mandalorian? Surely not. There was no denying the tension between you two. The cod piece of his armour had hid the erection you had given him all day. He shamefully had to relieve himself in the restroom of the cantina. He just couldn't get enough of the way your lips twisted around the fruit you sucked on, and the way your eyelashes framed your doe-like eyes.

He placed a big hand on the inside of your thigh, where your skin was as soft as cream, and pushed your tunic up, exposing your panties. You stiffened up under his rough touch. This was exactly what you wanted. There were no signs of Din or the child. It was just you and Cobb Vanth. He shuffled closer to you and began to plant sloppy kisses along your thighs. You hummed in delight as his greying stubble tickled your skin and you felt him smirk against your body. That damned smirk.

You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, occasionally tugging. His groans under your touch vibrated through your core and left your panties ruined from arousal. His lips nudged against your clit, only the thin material of your underwear gating his tongue from your cunt. You craved him so desperately. You needed him inside you. But he was teasing.

"You've been calling the shots all day." You whimpered as he licked a stripe down your pussy. You went to pull your panties off but his large hands stopped you.

"I always call the shots." he growled in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

"Not tonight." You smiled, tugging on his hair and pulling his head away from your core. You stood up, taking extra care not to stumble and fall into the fire, and dragged him to his feet. You pushed him onto the log where you had been sitting and sat on his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist and straddling him.

And oh Maker, he was hard. You could feel his entire length throb and press against his stomach as you grinded your hips, slow at first. Achingly slow. Cobb lowered his hands to your waist and pulled you closer to his chest, desperate for you to increase your speed. "More." he gasped, nuzzling his head into your neck and biting down into your skin.

Your grip on him tightened. You wanted to go slow; and tease him for as long as possible. He deserved it. You wanted to edge him until he was crying out your name, begging you to let him cum. But you needed a release too. Fuck, you needed him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and hovered over his lap. "Pants off." you commanded, to which he happily obliged.

Within seconds, the Marshal had pulled his pants off. You spat into the palm of your hand, saliva dripping amongst your fingers and grabbed his length, rubbing it as you slowly sank on top of him.

He was big. He was so big. His cock throbbed inside you. It stretched out your walls and you could feel every vein. You held yourself on top of him for a few moments as you adjusted to his length. Cobb dipped his hand down and began to circle your clit a few times, earning a few delicious moans.

It wasn't long until you were balls deep into him. His cock was amazing. As you began to ride him, you realised it curved in just the right place, and with every thrust, he hit your sweet spot. You knew you wouldn't last long. "Fuck, so good," Cobb grunted as you bounced on top of him. "Such a pretty girl."

"Don't wanna leave," you gasped. "Wanna feel your cock fill me up every day. Wanna feel you cum inside of me. Please."

"Keep doing that." The Marshal urged, his hands pressing into the small of your back. "I'm close."

"Want you to fill me up, make a mess of me." You were practically screaming, tears pricking your eyes as he began to buck his hips upwards, his thrusts meeting yours.

"Yeah? Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" Cobb cooed and you let out a little squeal as he spanked your bare ass- the sound echoing through the desolate village.

He drove you straight to your climax, your cunt clenching around him, tight like a vice, which sent him to his own orgasm. His load shot up inside of you, sending bolts of pleasure into your body. He pressed his forehead against your chest as your rhythm became more slow and sloppy until eventually he softened inside of you. Reluctantly, he pulled out, and you whimpered at the lost feelling of him.

"Next time you find yourself on Mos Pelgo, I'll be the one calling the shots." he growled, biting down on your ear lobe.

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!): @supernaturalgirl666 @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic

#cobb vanth x reader #cobb vanth smut #cobb vanth #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 2 #timothy olyphant #timothy olyphant x reader #pedro pascal #din djarin

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penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories · 4 years

Text

Obi-Wan Kenobi NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Posted, unedited, and then I’m gonna nyooom to bed. I know these have been done before, and there are some really great ones out there! I just wanted to add my flair to the mix

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s been said before and I’ll say it again: Obi-Wan Kenobi is the absolute king of aftercare. His soothing, deep voice against your ear, hands gently helping you clean up, arms pulling you into his chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. It’s a practical, logical option among a question laced with the opportunity for pride, which isn’t becoming of a Jedi. He likes what noises they bring from you, how he gets to hold you with him. He likes them because what they can do to you.

On you, he loves your eyes. He’s absolutely captivated with you, and while he certainly enjoys many areas of your body, he adores how flashes of emotion will shine through when you’re too overwhelmed to speak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Obi-Wan loves to mark you with it, especially on the soft, tender flesh of your inner thighs. He feels coming on your face is degrading to you, and if that’s something you’re into, it’s going to take a long conversation, maybe several for him to consider it.

Now, I have to thank @maybege for this one, because this wasn’t a thought I can take credit for, but I agree that he has a bit of a breeding kink, which you can read about in detail here.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes the borderline sacrilegious way he uses the Force on you. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t feel unhonoring to the Force. On the contrary, it’s times like these with you he feels singular to the Light in a way that isn’t replicated anywhere else, doing anything else. So the way he holds you down with it, touches what his busy hands can’t reach? The way he melds your minds into one, your thoughts bonding in imitation to your bodies?

It’s against the Jedi code to be attached, but the longer he’s with you, the more he’s intimate with you, he begins to wonder if Love and Light aren’t sometimes one and the same.

(My trademark is beginning to be Smutty Premise but Make It Feelings, prime example above. I have too many feelings about this man. )

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

SO much debate regarding this one, and I could see it both ways. Maybe he’s adhered to the Jedi Code to the strictest degree. But if I’m real? That charming, flirtatious confidence about him? I don’t think that comes from a man who hasn’t had at least a few attachment-free lovers before. Regardless, with his ability to discern so well and quite literally read your mind if you consent to it, he knows how to get you right where you need to be.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s happy to mix it up, try new things, different angles, but his favorties are anything where

He can see your face, press his lips to your mouth or neck

He can touch other parts of you: fist a hand in your hair, drag his knuckles down your stomach, play with the sensitive flesh of yours that longs for his attention

He can penetrate you as deeply as possible

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Just like in the rest of life, he’s more serious, but that dry wit is right under the surface, ready to bubble up when the moment is right. If you’re the one to be a little goofy? It depends on his mood. Sometimes, he’ll chuckle against you, fondness flooding his face. Other times, he’ll shoot you a stern look that shoots right below your stomach because. He’s not playing silly games tonight, but your body shivers in anticipation for the game he does want to play.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well kept, trimmed, darker than the coppery tresses on his head and face. He shyly, secretly loves it when you decide to kiss down the trail of it that starts below his navel.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a romantic. One of the most authentic ones to ever grace the galaxy, kept tightly maintained under serenity and his reserved demeanor. But when he has the outlet for it, when he’s with you behind closed doors, all the affection he can’t display in public is bottled up, just waiting to pull you into his arms and show you everything you’ve both missed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think he’s one to do it much. The man hardly gets enough sleep and I’m pretty sure Cody is the only reason he remembers to eat half the time, and doing things for himself is hardly his forte. Seldom he’s desperate enough for the sleep, and he’ll indulge just for the release. Or when the ache of missing you is heavy in the front of his mind.

But once. You asked him to. While you watched.

Normally so put together, so in charge of himself, he flushed head to toe, but obliged you all the same, quirking an eyebrow in challenge.

Let’s just say you couldn’t help but add your hands and mouth shortly after.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Besides the slight breeding kink already discussed,

Praise Kink, both exuberantly giving and reluctantly receiving

Dom/Sub vibes, mostly for the trust element. While I agree that he has some serious switch! Energy, I think he leans heavily into being a Dom. (all under the condition of lots of conversation because: consent king!) Loves watching you squirm under his husky commands, adores the way you clench harder around him when he calls you “little one,” how you just become so open in countenance and body when he pins you against the wall or the bed, how startlingly fast you become aroused when he takes your chin between his fingers, forcing your gaze up to his.

Biting/marking. Possessiveness isn’t something he fosters nor appreciates, but when he gets to mark you, your skin carrying the discoloration of where his mouth loved you lavishly, something deep in him sparks. He felt awful, the first time he saw it, and you had to reassure him profusely that you wanted it, that you craved the proof of the love you two had to keep secret. And the scratches between his shoulders? The bites into his clavicle? Well, his body is littered in scars he couldn’t be more indifferent about, but those he will treasure

Overstimulation, see U for Unfair

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a private man, so anywhere he knows you two won’t be interrupted.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Sometimes it’s as simple as the way you laugh, and he somewhat hates how his body decides to take that innocent cue. Sometimes it’s the way your clothes fit, either tightly accentuating or loosely alluding to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything you say no to. Again, Consent King, and he won’t ever cross a line. For him personally, he won’t ever do anything that will seriously hurt you, even if you’d ask. He just couldn’t ever lay a hand on you that way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preference is definitely giving, and you were monstrously unprepared for how amply his tongue and lips deliver pleasure.

After convincing him that, yes, I want to do that, and he lets you get your mouth on him, he’s a mess. This is where you get to grate against the unwavering wall of his self-discipline, urging out the sinful noises he makes, even as he cuts them short, even as his knuckles turn white in tight fists in their fight against the sea of sensation. He has to shut his eyes. Because when he opens them? When he sees your lips stretched around him, swallowing down what you can? He’s not going to withstand that for as long as he wants.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It again depends on his mood. Either. Both. But his unshakable patience is certainly best suited for slow and sensual. Deep thrusts. Thorough kisses. Languid movement of his hips.

Although. You will never forget the first time he bent you over the nearest surface and took you from behind.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If a quickie is all there’s time for, he’ll concede on it, but he certainly prefers when he gets to take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Depends on what. If it’s getting caught, he’s likely to not, since too much is at stake. He’s willing to hear you out, within reason, but he’s always the voice of reason, tending to not do anything seriously risky. Although for experimenting, he’s such an inquisitive man, loving to learn, that he’s willing to try new things as long as they’re at least somewhat grounded.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Um. Um. Jedi thrive on stamina and patience, and Obi-Wan’s chosen lightsaber form (which he’s been deemed the master of), is based on the principle of stamina and outlasting your opponent. So, take that for what it’s worth.

Hint: it’s worth a LOT.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Don’t imagine he’s much for toys, he prefers to imitate whatever sensation via the Force or with his body.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Heh.

TEASE.

THE WORST OF THEM.

THAT SMIRK? IT HAS A REASON.

It’s the only thing he’ll do in public, touch you with a tendril of energy when he’s across the room. Plant an impression of a thought against your mind.

And when he has you to himself?

Overstimulation. Teasing you to the brink and back sometimes. Sometimes letting you fall over the edge again and again, your body trembling and aching, overwhelmed at his pointed, too-knowing attentions.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not loud, but he tries to muffle his moans when they slip, but he can’t always catch them, and he stops trying so hard when he learns how much you love his noises.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

When he learns how much his voice impacts you, he’s thinking of the next thing he can whisper to you the next time he gets you alone. It’s where his mind just lives any moment he has to spare.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Welp. I’m gonna try to be classy here.

Someone said somewhere on this website (I lost the post somewhere, please let me know if anyone finds it!) that he has the politest BDE ever, and that’s the funniest truest thing.

Maybe it’s the way he sits with his legs spread, maybe it’s the way he caries himself.

(Or maybe it’s the way we know Ewan isn’t shy in his nude scenes for a reason)

But yeah.

I can’t imagine he’s anything except just factually acknowledging of it, but the way you react to it? Well, if he feels just a little prideful at that, no one needs to know that except him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty tied to you. He’s gone years without, but when he has you, it’s awakened a kind of hunger he feels barely equipped to handle.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on the situation. Usually, your hours together tend to be limited, and he wants to savor it. But he also loves the feeling of resting, your body against his. The deep sleep he gets just being with you usually takes him hours of meditating to achieve.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan #obi wan #obi-wan X reader #obi wan x reader #Obi-wan Kenobi X Reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan x you #obi-wan alphabet #obi-wan kenobi alphabet #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan smut #star wars alphabet

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years

Text

A Time of Magic

Merlin AU

I got really excited about writing this after getting so many great ideas from people! So I spent most of today on it :) I will make it clear now; some parts will follow how it went in canon, some parts will be similar to how it went in the show and other things I will be deviating from completely <3

Taglist: I’ll do my 'general writing taglist for now' but if you would like to be tagged (or not tagged if you have been) then please let me know via dm, asks or comments/tags! 😊💜

@psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @red-imeanblue @writerwithtoomanyships

Summary: “No one can know their destiny, no matter how grand that destiny might be. No one can truly comprehend how they wind up in the vast, complex tapestry of life. He cannot glimpse into the future of his great story. He will have to allow it to unwind for itself. Our young warlock must live to follow his destiny, and learn how to survive in a harsh world. His name… Virgil.”

Tags for this chapter: OC death, (not graphic in any way) description of execution, brief mention of a weapon, alternative universe (Merlin and human AU)

Word count: 2,818

Read on Ao3!

Chapter 1: Into the Realm of Camelot.

“No one can know their destiny, no matter how grand that destiny might be. No one can truly comprehend how they wind up in the vast, complex tapestry of life. He cannot glimpse into the future of his great story. He will have to allow it to unwind for itself. Our young warlock must live to follow his destiny, and learn how to survive in a harsh world. His name… Virgil.”

The young man scrambled up the sandy hill and laughed when the grass brushed under his legs. He looked behind him at the vast expanse he had left behind. The blue and grey hues of the Brighsonee Mountain that would usually loom above him every day now seemed significantly smaller, for the first time in his life, he could actually see the dusting of snow that covered the sharp peaks.

This was the beginning of a new start.

He looked into the distance and saw the last wooden house of village he had called home for the last twenty years. The feeling of sadness threatened to overwhelm him, but he couldn’t go back now even if he wanted to. Home was no longer safe, and he couldn’t put his mother through any more heartache. If he hadn’t been so reckless, he wouldn’t have been forced to leave his mother behind to fix his mistakes. He felt his eyes fill with tears at the thought, but he shook his head and violently wiped away the one tear that made its way down his face. There was no point looking back, he had to move forward.

“You must go to Camelot and find Logan. He will help you and protect you.” He listened to his mother’s words that echoed in his mind. He could feel the daunting pressure of the rising sun push him forward, with one final look at his past. He adjusted the bag on his back full of his meagre possessions and walked down the other side of the hill.

As he continued to walk for another two hours, he found himself in a wild forest. The path would come and go continuously, and he found himself fighting through trees while getting his dark brown jacket tangled in branches. He finally found the path again and stopped to remove a sharp stone that had somehow got in his shoe before freezing in awe at the sight in front of him. As he looked through another set of trees, he could see the walls of Camelot. It was clear to Virgil now why Camelot had been deemed the most powerful kingdom in the entire realm. He picked up the shoe that he dropped in surprise and put it back on his foot before moving swiftly along the path with a new-found burst of energy.

Virgil was so eager, but also anxious, to reach the town that he almost collided with a knight on his horse. The knight nodded politely as Virgil moved out of the way, his bright red cloak with the golden insignia of the dragon billowing behind him. At least Virgil could be reassured that he was definitely go the correct way. The sun began to beam brighter as the trees lessened. He could hear the hustle and bustle of the town somewhere in front of him, so he ran towards the noise. Virgil stopped just before the cobbled path of the town and took in the new surroundings, he was intimidated by how busy everything was. He knew it would be more chaotic than his miniscule village, but this was something else entirely. The main part to dominate his attention completely was the castle that towered over the town, just like the Brighsonee Mountain at his village.

A multitude of lean, square towers dominate the skyline of the castle and were connected by extremely tall, thin walls made of dark brown stone. Virgil was unable to count sheer volume of flags that fluttered in the breeze all around the castle. Small windows decorated are scattered generously across the walls in an asymmetric pattern, some decorated in stained glass, some left as they were to let the light in. He could also see symmetric crenelations for archers and artillery, that was a reassurance that Camelot was protected. Statues of kings were lined up outside of the castle gates, serving as reminders of the past. This castle had stood the test of time and despite knowing some very rough wars and battles, the castle still stood. It looked like it will do so for many years to come.

As he was accidentally pushed to the side by a townsman carrying goods on his back, he knew it was time to take the first step into his new home. He brushed off his torn purple shirt, then adjusted his classic red neckerchief before taking a deep breath and walking into the town. He smiled as he saw small children giggling and chasing each other through the crowded street. He watched as men and women wandered around the market stalls, Virgil couldn’t help but be fascinated by the food and jewellery stalls he passed. His stomach rumbled and it reminded him that he really needed to eat the food his mother packed for him, but that could wait. Right now, he really needed to find Logan. He caught a glimpse of the familiar red cape of a passing knight and followed him in the right direction of the castle entrance.

There were plenty of people walking in and out of the castle at a rapid pace, smiling as they went about their business and Virgil smiled back politely. As he walked over the drawbridge and caught a glimpse of the water in the moat, he had to admit to himself that he was pleasantly surprised. Part of him was expecting for the castle to be closed off and daunting considering how it looks from a distance, but the fact that it was so welcoming made him feel much more assured that he would be okay here after all.

He saw a significantly large group of people standing in the middle of the castle grounds and he excitedly raced over to see what had everybody so excited. They were standing around a square that had been cordoned off by rope, everybody was desperately trying to make sure they could see the spectacle. Virgil could just about make out a small stage with a block in the middle surrounded by a variety of weapons. There were guards to keep everyone from moving any closer and he saw one more man wearing a black mask over his face standing in the middle of the stage. Virgil was confused, why was there so much protection for a magic show? Before he could think about it any further, he jumped as two guards with bugles began to play a mournful fanfare. A man wearing a golden crown with a burgundy cloak stepped out onto the balcony high up in the castle, Virgil made a note that this must be a member of the royal family, most likely the King. It would explain the gold jewellery around his neck anyway. The serious expression on his face made Virgil tense up. He nodded and another set of guards played large drums at a slow marching pace while a townsman was dragged out into the courtyard wearing heavy chains. ‘This is going to be one intense show.’ Virgil thought.

As the man finally reached the stage with an incredibly morbid expression on his face, the crowd began to mutter excitedly before turning towards the balcony. Virgil followed suit as a loud, authoritative voice boomed out across the courtyard.

“Let this be a lesson to all who reside in Camelot. This man, Peter Robert Sclator has been judged as guilty.” There was a substantial pause, and Virgil took the opportunity to glance at the man before furrowing his brow.

‘Guilty?’ He looked around and saw people bowing their heads and nodding slowly, it started to dawn on him. Maybe this wasn’t a magic show after all. His heart began to fill with dread as the voice began to fill the courtyard once more.

“He is guilty of conspiracy. Conspiracy of using enchantments… and magic.” Virgil’s eyes widened with fear at the sheer distain in the King’s voice as he practically spat out the word magic. The way he gritted his teeth made every word much more sinister. Gasps filled the silence after his words reverberated around the walls. The man was desperately trying to make eye contact with people he must have known in the crowd, but everyone avoided his gaze. Virgil felt his heart beat rapidly, he wished he wasn’t so curious. He shouldn’t be standing here watching this, but if he left now, would he look guilty? If someone could be punished for conspiracy… what would happen to someone like him? He gulped as he trembled waiting for the next declaration to be made.

“In accordance with the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that these types of practices are banned… on penalty of death. I ensure that I am a fair and just ruler. For the crime of sorcery. This is the only sentence that will be passed.” The crowd were ushered into silence and Virgil had to grip tightly onto the handles of his bag so he didn’t gasp or draw attention to himself. Now the man bowed his head, completely resigned to his fate. Virgil didn’t understand, why didn’t he call out? Swear that he was only using his magic for good? He looked around as subtly as he could, and couldn’t believe that no one was standing up for this man, he must have friends… a family. He glanced up and saw one of the castle windows open slowly, someone looked out to the courtyard. Virgil couldn’t help but notice the overwhelming sadness on the young man’s face, almost pitying the situation as much as Virgil did.

As the man was dragged to the stage and pushed down to the block. It finally dawned on Virgil that this was real. This was how life was going to be in Camelot, and the thought petrified him. The drumbeat began to speed up and Uther slowly raised his hand into the air. He couldn’t watch so he focused on the ground, and winced when he heard the axe swoosh into the air before the inevitable groan of everyone who decided to watch the man’s fate. Virgil forced himself to look up and he saw the man in the window; the disgust, pity and rage on his face was palpable and his eyes looked like daggers aimed squarely at Uther’s head. Everyone slowly began to gather their things and walk away from the display, but Uther stopped the people in their tracks. Virgil was desperate to run, but again, the fear of looking guilty plagued his mind. Despite how disgusted he felt, he knew that he was compelled to stay.

“When I first arrived in Camelot. The kingdom was consumed with chaos. It was only thanks to the bravery of the people, that we were able to rise up and be free from the evil of magic. So I wish to declare a festival. Tomorrow marks twenty years since we captured the Great Dragon. Let us celebrate this joyous occasion.”

Virgil’s head began to spin as he saw the smug look on Uther’s face as he raised his arms above his head in pride. How could he look so proud after what he had just done? Magic was a source of good. There had been bad events though, there was no doubting that. If it was harnessed by a corrupted person, that was the only way magic could be evil… He didn’t understand why Uther refused to accept that. Virgil finally realised just how careful he was going to have to be, even though he didn’t even know how to control his abilities. He looked up and saw the window slam shut making the glass crack from side to side. He couldn’t say that he blamed that guy for his reaction. Virgil just hoped that he was okay.

He finally took a step and broke away from the shock of the last hour. He made his way to the far end of the courtyard searching for The Court Physician’s quarters. He needed to calm down, and he hoped that Logan would be able to reassure him like his mother promised. Virgil was still shaking but he swallowed his pride and asked one of the patrolling guards for directions. Despite hearing words coming out of the guard’s mouth, it didn’t process in his mind at all. So he nodded and walked in a direction, hoping it was the correct way.

After about five minutes, and two laps of the bottom of the castle. It was clear that he was lost because he hadn’t seen anything that looked like a space for the Court Physician. He sat in one of the gaps of the castle walls and let everything sink in. He must have ended up being there for a lot longer than anticipated because an older man with grey speckles in his hair looked at him with sympathy and knelt down to his level.

“Boy? Is everything alright? Are you lost?” The caring voice was enough to snap Virgil out of his overthinking mind. He looked into the deep blue eyes and immediately felt a sense of calm wash over him. He looked down and saw the large book on herbs that the man was holding close to his chest. Could this be…

“Logan?” Virgil asked hopefully, he was desperate for this day to end. The man’s eyes glimmered with agreement and he nodded in a calculated way. Virgil sighed deeply in relief, finally, this day might come to an end and he could start from scratch tomorrow.

“That is me, yes... Who are you?” The hint of uncertainty shone through in his voice and Virgil remembered the letter his mother wrote for him to give to Logan. He frantically opened his bag and searched desperately for the letter, he knew it was somewhere near the front, because his mother knew that he would lose it otherwise. He felt paper brush against his fingertips, and he pulled it out to hand to Logan. He was met with an apologetic smile, and he couldn’t tell what he had done wrong.

“I’m so sorry my boy, I’ve misplaced my glasses.” Virgil looked up and saw they were actually sitting delicately on Logan’s head, but he didn’t want to embarrass the man who would hopefully become like a guardian to him. So he smiled softly and began to introduce himself.

“I’m Virgil...?” The silence between them became almost uncomfortable until Logan beamed brightly as he seemed to recognise the name.

“Hunith’s son!” Virgil smiled back just as brightly. “You’re not supposed to be coming until Wednesday!” Virgil’s smile faltered as he worked out again how to say this in a delicate manner.

“Er, today… is Wednesday.” Logan went to say something but he stopped himself. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and calculated something on his fingers before sighing in realisation. He stood up and held a hand out to Virgil while pulling him out of his seat in the wall. They started walking together towards a set of stairs which led to Logan’s quarters. He had only just realised that it was quite late in the day now as the corridors were illuminated with burning torches. Logan stopped Virgil from coming in, and he could see him scrambling around lighting candles. When the rooms were sufficiently lit, he welcomed him in with open arms.

“Head to the bedroom at the back and put your things in there. I’ll get us some dinner while you get settled in.” He left swiftly and Virgil staggered to bedroom. He looked around and as he put his bag down on the floor, he already felt at home. He opened the window and saw just how high up they were in the castle. The flickering lights of the houses and the still open market stalls made him smile, it looked eerily beautiful. He closed the window and sat on the bed waiting for Logan to return, but his exhaustion got the better of him and he immediately fell asleep.

When Logan came back and didn’t hear any response to his calls of Virgil’s name, he was slightly concerned. He briskly walked to the bedroom and smiled softly when he saw Virgil fast asleep, so he left a piece of pie and a glass of water delicately on the table next to Virgil’s bed and blew out the candle before heading back into the main room.

The night was quiet except for a deep, intimidating voice calling out into the darkness.

“Virgil.”

#Merlin #BBC Merlin #Merlin AU #Human AU #sanders sides #ts virgil sanders #ts logan sanders #sanders sides fanfic #ts fanfic #magic #fantasy #tw oc death #tw execution #tw weapon mention #angst #comfort #more characters introduced soon #Dreamer writes

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fakeloveaskblog · 2 years

Note

The fact I am no ghost shall Not stop me from haunting you, lemme tell ya that. The feeling is mutual, by the way—we all like your significant other far better than you, you can rest assured of that. Most everyone here dislikes this particular version of you, and while I've met many lovable utterances in my time, you make me want to punch you.

Now… *picks up the thickest cushion from the floor in a flutter of darkness as the lightbulb flickered* since you were courteous enough to let me in.

Hmm… nah, I'm not gonna make this quick. *making Virgil tumble to the floor, they levitate the cushion over his face and get ready to press down* The arbitrary laws of the universe will probably not let this be fatal, but, at the very least, I'm gonna give you a scare.

So, how's this for a deal with the devil. Seek therapy and change for the better… or you die via very slow and agonizing asphyxiation?

Virgil could feel the hair at the back of his neck raise as soon as he saw the cushion be picked up. Your voice was so loud it sent shockwaves through his body. His bones started to ache.

"Wha- Y-you can't just throw an existential crisis onto a dude like that! This version of me? What others me would there even be?! Don't tell me I have a twin or some shit like that"

He felt a sudden push against his chest. He tumbled down on the floor. He landed on his palms and elbows. He barely had time to turn around so he was laying on his back before the cushion was over him.

You hadn’t even fully finished your sentence when Virgil blurted you “You better not do this to Remy! They freak out if they can’t breathe!”

Virgil kicked his legs around as the cushion was brought down closer to his face. No matter how much he held back against it his strength was nothing against the supernatural.

“Why the fuck do I even to change?!” He exclaimed in a flurry of panic “What’s so wrong about me? No one has even thought to tell me that! You shitheads! I can’t see anything I’ve done wrong! As far as I remember I haven’t even killed anyone! Unlike how you’re literally trying to commit murder right this second!”

His heart was beating so loud he could hear it. It felt like it would burst out of his ribs.

“I don’t get why I would ever need therapy. I will let you know I had a great childhood! You obviously- hopefully- haven’t met them but I can promise you Dot and Larry are amazing parents!!”

He desperately moved his hand all over the floor around him. Looking for anything helpful. The floor was a mess of salt and broken plates.

“You’re the real fucking freak for trying to kill me without any goddamn reason! Pff fucking therapy- why would I- I mean Remy goes to therapy but look at them! I’m obviously not messed up like they are! Even though I love them for it there is a clear difference between us okay!”

His hand latched onto a sharp piece left from a broken plate.

“I don’t need therapy or some stupid change! All I need is an exorcist!”

He cut the sharpest side of the shard into the cushion and pulled it straight down until it had cut through the whole thing. It fell apart into two.

Virgil pushed himself as far away as possible. He curled up in the corner of the kitchen between two drawers. He fumbled after his phone and called Remy. Signal after signal went by. No one answered.

“YOU STUPID-”

He cut himself off as he instead punched his fist against the drawer over and over. His teeth gritted together. His knuckles turned bloody.

The air caught in his throat as his eyes darted around the room, waiting for something horrible to happen again. The room stayed quiet and lifeless. Virgil sent another text to Remy which turned into 5 which turned into a dark hole of anger when they still didn’t answer.

“THEY BETTER COME BACK OR I’LL-”

He pressed his legs to his chest and tugged at his hair. He couldn’t breathe. All of it got stuck in his chest. His lungs were burning.

“I*LL-”

Tears pressed on in his eyes. He buried his head against his knees as sobs racked his body.

“i need them”

Virgil continued to cry in the cold lonely apartment with no one aside from you to hear him. While Remy was off laughing along with their friends over dinner. Their hand holding Janus’ under the table.

#ask #thanks for the ask <3 it gave me a reasn not to sleep for more than 1 hour before work #virgil sanders #sanders sides

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Star Vs Tom Luictor Retrospective Detour: Skooled!

Dedicated to Jessica Walter 1941- 2021

Welcome back all you still mourning people to Prince of Wishful Thinking, my Tom Lucitor Retrospective... or at least a detour from it as I need to cover the Meteora arc to cover Divide/Conquer properly. When we last left off with Star she and Tom were going closer, but both are taking a break this time. We’ll get back to them in April... oh will we get back to them in april. For now we’re back to Meteora who I forgot was ABSENT for a while. not forever, but while her parantege, the cover up related to her and all of that has been vitally important, Meteora herself vanished after Monster Party and hasn’t been seen till now. But i’ts a good storytelling engine.. it ratchets up tension for her inevitable return, and gives us time to find out what happened with her and let that sink in.. granted i’td also be the last time it sunk in but I can dunk on the series decline later... I still have season 4 episodes to cover after all. So join me under the cut as we get the welcomed Return of Henious, an unexpected hero.. and Ponyhead because this series clearly hasn’t hurt me enough. And as usual for my Star Vs Reviews, i’d like to thank one of my Best Friends @jess-the-vampire for her insight on this episode. It’s always welcome and she always manages to find something I didn’t think of .

So we open at Saint O’s with Ponyhead returning to the school, having previously run it post rebellion before leaving because.. I don’t know. She probably got tired of being a leader, and out of universe they needed her to be around star more. Look the series has far more important things it never explained and never will, not explaining why a recklessly irresponsible asshole left a position of authority and responsibility I can let slide.

She’s come for brunch but things have changed... the school is still a warm, free environment for princesses to better themselves and party hardy, no longer an oppressive brainwashing gulag run by someone who as it turned out was horribly brainwashed herself.. it’s just now it actually has rules and structure.

It now also has an actual leader, Princess Patty Arms who showed up in the school’s previous appearance this season here and.. that’s it. I think she showed up in the background of the original st o’s episode. And it’s a shame because she’s a really fascinating character. No really she’s calm, dosen’t take Pony’s shit, and while a brunch exam SEEMS like a waste of time... it really isn’t. A good meal can loosen up a dignitary and some rulers have sticks up their keisters about things like this, so being able to do it just right can win them over. It’s still a touch ridiculous but given the world of star is a touch ridiculous to start with, it works.

Pony naturally leaves in a rage over this especially when no one backs her up.. but soon the School has bigger issues and we get to why we’re actually here: Meteora is back. And while she has changed, now having grown larger and stronger, easily scaling the wall, she still wants payback and we get a damn fine battle sequence as the princesses all unite against their former tormentor. It’s also sad in hindsight.. because as Jess pointed out to me almost NONE of these characters show up again. And I only added the almost because Penelope is in there. They all seem interesting, the setting of ST O’s itself is interesting, and the idea of a school for princesses of various types is a cool idea. I’ts something the show could’ve come back to to see how they bounce back from this attack.. but like most cool background elements in the show they forget about it. It was intresting to see the schools slow evolution from horrible nightmare to princess ran utopia and like many things coming up it feels like a lost opportunity.

That being said the fight is awesome, with Meteora proving to be a juggernaut in strength and outplanning her enimies, having brought an overide switch for the robots (Patty reprogrammed them to work for the school) and having them throw their hearts/ power sources as bombs. It’s a damn fine sequence as she finds way after way to keep going, with a now restored rasticore helping them simply portal in.

Pony meanwhile.. is hiding , as Patty find sout when she finds her, and Pony assumes this is about her... though for once i’ts not JUST ego.. but because she was one of the two who started the uprising at the school in the first place and THE person who tossed her out. We also get a nice character moment as while Pony tells patti she still hates her.. she puts the princess behind her when Meteora approaches. She may be a selfish twit whose massively unlikeable.. but she has a good heart.. and not just the one she keeps in a jar she got from one of her boyfriends.

But Meteora has more important buisness and finds her way to the depths of St. O’s.. where we meet the Schools namesake and her adopted mother a robot played by tress macneile.. another thing the series never bothered to care about as where did these robots come from and why?

Turns out Meteora came to find out her own personal history, with the remote from before used to find the real dirt.. and what we find .. is heartbreaking as we slowly journey back through Meteora’s childhoods as Henious.. and it’s fucking heart breaking with Tress voicing her younger versions, hence why I didn’t use this as the jessica tribute as while walter’s good in the episode, she isn’t given much.

We see her as a teen, forced to hide her tail and insulted over it by her mother.. and it only gets worse as when her cheeks glow as a kid St. O tries to wash them off and we get the poor child desperately begging that “she can be better”

We do finally get the answers Meteora saught as we see Shastacan dropping off the baby meteora, calling her “Henious”.. which St. O took as her name. Proving the spiderbites minus penelope’s dickishness is indeed genetic and why I have no sympathy for the prick getting eaten later... and hopefully globgor will do an encor with penepople’s parents. Here’s hoping.

So Meteora now knows she’s the rightful queen, and decides to go take it back.. though Pony does try to stand up for her friends... and while we don’t see it hte next episode confirms she got her horn ripped the fuck off. And this horribly traumatic injury.. is magically fixed via 3d printing next time we see her after an episode grappling iwth it instead of having pony deal with not having a horn, or her prostetic not giving her magic powers again. Because this show again really likes to leave good ideas out to rot in the sun like that package of hamburger I left out in the sun yesterday. And I actually had a reason there: I need a lot of Racoons for an elaborate scheme involving a map to tex cruz’s house, a used apache helicopter and a bulk order of tiny parachutes.

We do get some payoff to things though, as Henious comes on to rasticore who not so politely rejects her for being nuts.. before it’s revealed Gemini, her loyal servant is also a robot and she uses his heart to blow up rasticore and take the arm with her... which is ALSO never brought up again. Seriously this episode is so full of loose ends i’m suprised it just dosen’t end with Zuko asking his dad about his mother. Gemini’s death is genuinely tragic as his last words are “If you wanted my heart.. all you had to do.. was assssskkkkk”. God damn. So with that Meteora heads out to reclaim her birthright.. no matter the cost.

Final Thoughts on Skooled!: This one is decent.. but like the last episode I covered, the lack of payoff off for almost anything here, excluding the Meteora plotline and the Pony thing which instead got a BAD payoff, is really starting to rear it’s ugly head as the series greatest weakness. Yes bigger than the romance plot. And given that romance plot after this season can be best discribed as...

youtube

The show just.. forgets a good chunk of things happened to keeep things chugging along. It sets UP plots, what happens to st o’s from here, buff frog and a small caravan of monsters leaving forever, the message from shastacan, who built the st o’s robots, and on and on.. but it never PAYS them off. It dosen’t care to. It just does things so the plot can move but never bothers to think about the fucking consequences. It just gets more and more irrtating to think about as other shows throughly DO: Amphibia has the fact the characters get into shenanigans become a commented on running gag and something they grow past, and everything that happens matters. Every episode of Owl House builds on the foundation of the previous episodes. OK Ko dosen’t forget one episode had the characters not be able to turn back into humans and implies their wearing human costumes for the rest of the series. Which is fucking weird, but it was their memory. My point is other shows around the same time or right after didn’t magically forget things happened for convience sake. While it’s OKAY to loose some things in the shuffle, it happens to the best of us, it’s not okay to do it SO fucking often and with no clear care for the audiences desire for payoff. The show just ignores what plot points, like the huge cliffhanger of Star telling marco how she felt at the end of season 2, it dosen’t care about till it needs them and ignores the ones it never does. You can’t just.. bring shit up like it’s important and then try and forget it ever happened. People remember stuff, we are NOT stupid. KIDS are not stupid. When I was younger I REMEMBERED things that happened on KND, Danny Phantom, Xiaolin Showdown, TMNT 2003, because those shows, which are from decades ago, knew I would and trusted even if I missed something and was thrown off i’d tune in for the quality.

And in an age of streaming and more story based tv you can’t just.. ask kids to act like something they saw didn’t happen because your fucking lazy and frankly YOU never should have. Kids deserve better, my niblings deserve better and frankly the adults your clearly also writing for.. deserve better. This episode is eh, but the problems it represents are so fucking worse.

Next time on tom. If you thought I got angry towards the end of this one, just you wait. Next time i’ts Booth Buddies. Yeah.. yeah that one. Stay tuned.

#star vs the forces of evil #skooled #lilica ponyhead #meteora butterfly #gemini #rasticore #patty arms #rat princess #penelope spiderbite #saint olga #saint olgas #disney xd #disney plus #disney channel

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missjanjie · 3 years

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Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 5

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~15.1k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Kamjie (Kameron Michaels/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Lemon and Priyanka's relationship is more of a rollercoaster than ever and Rosé figures out the truth about Denali

“Are you still giving me the cold shoulder?” Priyanka asked, a mix of frustration and exhaustion in her voice. There was also an underlying hint of anxiety, but that was something she could address later, as much later as possible.

Lemon turned to look at her with a deadpan expression. She didn’t utter a word, instead, she blinked and looked back at her phone, scrolling in tension-filled silence.

The taller woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Lem, I told you I haven’t been avoiding you. Mark’s project got delayed so he’s home all the time. He was gonna start getting suspicious if I kept spending the night with you.”

“He keeping you occupied with that mediocre dick?” The cold harshness in her voice was, at least to Priyanka, even worse than the silence.

“Lem, don’t do this,” she pleaded softly. “You know I’d much rather be giving you my fake dick than taking his real one. But it’s just gonna be a little difficult for us to have our usual rendezvous until his project starts back up,” she explained, then quietly strummed her fingers against the bar. “I’ll make up an excuse and come over tonight… if you still want me to, I mean.”

Despite her best efforts, Lemon cracked a slight smile. “Yeah, I still do. I’m not gonna punish my pussy just because I’m still pissed at you.”

Priyanka put her arms up in surrender. “Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

Lemon swallowed a laugh as she hopped down from the barstool. “I’ll be back after my shift, there better not be any sudden plan changes,” she warned before going upstairs to spend the time before her shift in the common room.

“You seem to be in better spirits,” Jan observed as she noticed Lemon come in. She sat down on the couch with the mug of coffee she’d just poured. “I take it Pri was finally able to pencil you in for a booty call?”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that, it makes me sound desperate,” she rolled her eyes. “Her stupid, ugly, smelly boyfriend is still around.

Jan quirked her brow. “Have you ever been in the same room as him?”

“No, but I don’t need to be to know I’m right.”

“You know I worry that you two are gonna end up in over your heads if you aren’t already,” she warned in a calm, gentle tone. She’d had a front-row seat to a fair amount of Lemon and Priyanka’s intimate trysts being Lemon’s roommate and from day one, she’d had the sinking feeling things would end badly. But there was only so much arguing one could do with someone like Lemon.

And unsurprisingly, Lemon scoffed. “Look, I know what we’ve been doing is amoral, but when you think about it, it’s not even our fault. It’s society’s fault for making Pri feel like she has some guy when I’m literally right here.”

“So you do wanna date her?”

Her face reddened, which she tried to offset by rolling her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

------

Denali fixed herself up in the quick-change dressing room. It was her last main stage dance for the night and she had just enough momentum built up to go out with a bang. She looked up when she saw Gigi walk in via the reflection in the mirror. “What’s with the smug grin?”

“I think you have a special visitor in the audience.” When they noticed the confusion in the dancer’s expression, Gigi followed up with, “Rosé asked me if you were up next and sat herself front and center when I said that you were.”

“Oh!” her voice went up in pitch and volume. She cleared her throat and instead focused on fixing her platinum blonde wig. “I mean… oh, cool. I’m sure she’ll enjoy the show.”

Gigi tilted their head to the side. “Is that how I sounded all this time? Fuck,” they shook their head. “Oh, by the way, I’ve decided to go by they/them off the clock, I’ve been letting the rest of the girls know too. It's like, I've been feeling like I’m just dressing up like a girl on stage, you know how it is.”

Denali nodded as she got up. “Whatever makes you feel the most yourself, babe,” she told her with a smile, then took a deep breath as she sauntered onto the stage to the slow, seductive beat of the music. She focused on maintaining the confidence she always brought to her performances and not letting the fact that Rosé was right in her field of vision throw her off.

Rosé watched intently, and while her gaze tended to linger on Denali’s body, she would look up at her face often enough for something to click. She finally realized she recognized the dancer from her work as a cam girl. The realization made her blush but didn’t deter her in the slightest.

After Denali had finished her number, she beckoned Rosé over. She leaned down and whispered, “go upstairs, I’ll meet you there in five,” before backing off to collect her tips as if nothing had happened.

Naturally, Rosé made her way upstairs as quickly as her legs would take her and waited eagerly for Denali to join her. “You know,” she started when she saw her, “I figured out where I know you from.”

“You got me,” she replied and slowly pulled off her wig and wig cap in one go, so her black hair cascaded down her back. “I’m Hannah Montana.”

Rosé blinked, then snorted with laughter. “You’re so fucking stupid,” her tone was fond as she shook her head. “I guess it makes sense. Taking this on as a second job.”

“I’m a people person, being in front of a camera just doesn’t do it for me. Money’s decent, but still. I’ve been considering bringing that stage name over here.”

“Oh you’re not gonna make poor Heidi try and announce ‘Aurora Borealis,” she playfully chastised. Then there was a beat of silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “Did you think I’d have a problem with it or something?”

“No,” she shrugged. “It was more fun making you work for it.”

She cocked her brow. “Oh, you’re a little brat, aren’t you?”

“I feel like there’s not much use in trying to argue that, so.” Denali leaned against the wall, looking up at Rosé and fluttering her lashes with coy flirtation. “You gonna do something about it or not?”

Rosé tilted her head and bit her lip, moving closer to Denali until she had both arms bracketing her against the wall. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Was that your endgame the whole time? Give me this whole run around until I was frustrated enough to fuck you as hard as your bratty ass wants?”

“I mean… yes, obviously.”

“Not in the common room, we eat and cry in here.” Jan’s voice pulled Rosé and Denali from their moment, but she shrugged when they glared at her. “What? Just fuck in the spa room like the rest of us,” she told them as she grabbed a cup o’ noodles from one of the drawers that Jackie kept stocked for the girls, and left a couple of dollars from her bra in its place.

Rosé rolled her eyes. “Bitch, I will fuck her in front of you, don’t test me.”

Jan scoffed as she started eating her noodles. “Do it, I dare you.”

“I am begging you not to,” another voice chimed in, the three women turned to see Lemon come up the stairs. While of course, she had no issue with hooking up in various parts of the building, Rosé is her cousin and that was simply a line she refused to cross. She did not care how badly Rosé wanted to fuck Denali – and yes, she knew.

“I cannot believe you’re cockblocking me right now,” she huffed, glancing back at Denali and mouthing ‘sorry’.

But Denali was unphased by the entire exchange. “Girl, just take me home. I’m still gonna put out.”

“Oh,” Rosé blinked, “alright then.”

------

Even though it had barely been a week since Lemon and Priyanka had last hooked up, it felt like ages for them. The second they were inside Lemon’s apartment, clothes were coming off and being tossed any which way as they stumbled into the bedroom, naked by the time their bodies hit the bed.

Priyanka rifled through Lemon’s closet until she came back with the strap-on, fastening it around her waist. She smirked when she turned around and realized Lemon was waiting for her on all fours. “Damn, I should hold out on you more often,” she teased.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Lemon hissed as if there was the slightest chance Priyanka would pass up time with her if given the option.

She chuckled as she positioned herself behind her. “There’s my bratty little Lem,” she cooed, holding her waist with one hand while the other guided the length of the silicone toy into her. She waited for a beat after she bottomed out, making sure Lemon was comfortable before she began thrusting steadily.

Lemon started moaning out the second it started. Her hands fisted into the comforter on her bed, her head hanging forward. Whenever she wanted more or wanted it harder, she would push her hips against Priyanka to urge her on.

And Priyanka knew what each movement meant. “You’re so fucking needy, aren’t you? So desperate to get pounded out,” she grunted. Her hand moved from Lemon’s waist to grab her hair, pulling it back while her free hand moved between her legs, rubbing her clit in time with her thrusts.

“Fuck, baby, just like that, please,” it was only when Lemon was in the heat of the moment, and close to an orgasm, that she would use words like ‘baby’ or ‘please’ unless she was trying to get her way with something. But luckily for her, Priyanka obliged without comment, and she let out a sharp, pleasured cry as she came moments later.

“That’s my good girl,” Priyanka praised, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as she eased out of her, cleaning up and putting the dildo and harness away, then got under the covers. “Come, you owe me cuddles.”

Lemon ducked her head away to hide how big her smile was, then cuddled up to Priyanka, resting her head on her chest. “Not to be like, corny or whatever, but I missed you,” she mumbled, hiding her face in the crook of her neck, lest she accidentally make eye contact.

Priyanka grinned, shaking her head. “I missed you too, weirdo,” she said and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She gazed down at her, feeling warmth and affection for a fleeting moment, before angst and melancholy built up from the pit of her stomach, coming out in a sad sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I…” she chewed on her lip and looked away. “Yeah, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

------

Rosé hummed to herself as she got into the shower, letting the hot water wake her up from the deep sleep the night before. And perhaps she needed it more than she realized, as she was startled when she suddenly noticed she was no longer alone. “I thought you were still asleep.”

Denali shrugged. “I was. But then I woke up and you weren’t there, and I got bored.”

She chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman’s waist. “Well, good morning, then,” she pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You sleep alright?”

“More than alright. Pretty sure I passed out somewhere after the fourth orgasm,” she chuckled softly, trailing light kisses along her jaw.

Rosé smirked. “No wonder you’re so clingy, they always wanna stick around after they get fucked well,” she teased, her hands moving from Denali’s back to squeeze her ass. “That why you’re in here? Woke up craving more?”

“God, you’re so fucking cocky,” Denali huffed, though she had no honest way of denying that. “But… yeah, very much so.”

“That’s what I thought,” she chuckled before sinking to her knees and nudging Denali’s thighs apart. She gripped each of her thighs, keeping them far enough apart for her to trace her tongue along her folds, then swirled it around her clit.

Denali gasped out softly, resting her head against the wall. “Fuck…” she exhaled, her eyes fluttering shut, moaning at the sensation of Rosé’s tongue on her clit and her fingers easing their way into her.

Rosé continued to lick and suck on her clit as she steadily curled and thrust two fingers into Denali, her free hand moving to her waist, gripping it to keep her steady and hold her in place.

She whimpered and moaned, dragging her fingers through Rosé’s wet hair, her hips starting to rock despite her grip. It wasn’t long after that that she felt a familiar tightness building in her stomach. “Fuck, Rosie, I’m close,” she warned, and not a minute after that, her body arched forward as she came.

Once she was certain Denali was done, Rosé eased out of her and stood back upright, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Now, do you mind if I actually take a shower? I have to get ready for work.”

“Okay, okay,” Denali put her hands up in surrender as she stepped out of the shower. “You think your roommate heard us last night? Or just now?”

Rosé shrugged as she washed her hair. “Probably not, Mik sleeps like a rock. The bitch would sleep through a nuclear holocaust.”

“Fair enough, not that I mind an audience, after all,” she hummed. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” she laughed at her own joke then kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you around.” She dried off and redressed before leaving for her apartment. Everything had gone well so far, she thought, the sex was fantastic and they didn’t need to complicate it with anything else.

------

Lemon had just finished her set when she noticed something out of the ordinary. After grabbing her robe from the quick-change room, she made her way over to the bar. “What’re you doing back there, Jaida? Is Jackie cross-training the strippers now?”

“I bartended in college,” Jaida explained. “Pri couldn’t come in, said she had an important dinner to go to, and based on how it sounded, I think it’s with her boyfriend.”

“Gross,” Lemon muttered. “Gimme a melon ball and a lemon drop.”

Jaida arched her brow but made the shots for her nonetheless. “You a little cranky without your girlfriend here, huh?”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” she huffed, downing the shots one after the other. “And I don’t care who the fuck she has dinner with. I’m just annoyed because she was supposed to give me a ride home. Since, you know, Jan spends more time at Nicky’s than anywhere else.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” she offered with a shrug. “Something tells me you’re not gonna wanna be alone tonight.”

Lemon smiled weakly. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” She was quiet for a few beats with her downcast gaze on the bar, until she finally looked back up at Jaida and asked, “can I get another lemon drop?”

And, as it turned out, Lemon would need the adult supervision. Once her shift ended, she had gotten much more drunk and needed to be hauled into her apartment and tucked into bed, where she passed out almost instantly.

Jaida had stayed awake and watched Lemon for a little while, feeling almost a maternal instinct when it came to Lemon. But eventually, she retired to Jan’s room for the night, figuring she wouldn’t mind, given the circumstances, and slept through the night. She woke up the next morning to a knock on the door and pushed herself out of bed. “Oh, hey Pri, how was your dinner?”

Priyanka furrowed her brows. “Why are you in Lemon’s apartment?” she asked, her stomach tightening in a knot as she followed up with, “did you guys hook up?”

“Nah, she was too wasted to even try,” she shook her head as she ushered her inside, the two of them sitting down on the couch. “What’s going on? You look like you saw a ghost or something.”

Priyanka exhaled deeply. “No, um… actually, I’m kinda glad I can practice on someone else, because I’m terrified of telling Lemon,” she looked down, fumbling with the hem of her shirt, shifting uncomfortably, unable to find a satisfactory way to sit and instead just slumped forward and sighed. “Mark proposed. And I panicked and said yes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring, morosely sliding it onto her finger.

“Oh shit,” Jaida blinked in surprise, her eyes widening when she saw the ring. She pressed her lips into a fine line. “Listen, this might not be the ‘right’ advice, but I don’t think you should tell Lemon yet. You can say whatever you want about whatever your relationship is, but it don’t take a rocket scientist to know it’s more than just sex. She’s not gonna take it well, you need to really think this out.”

She swallowed thickly and nodded, taking the ring off and putting it back in her pocket, then scratched at her hands as if she were fighting the urge to wash them. “You’re right,” she nodded, eyes focused squarely on the floor. “I can’t tell her yet.”

But she didn’t need to, as Lemon had been silently listening from her room, peering through the cracked open door. She shut it quickly but quietly, deciding to go right back to bed. It was too early for her heart to break.

#lemyanka #rosnali #rpdr rpf #rosenali

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phairfantooooom · 4 years

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Angsty Headcanons That Nobody Asked For

In which you fail. And you die to Belphie. Permanently.

Mammon

He was in denial and refused to believe what his heart was telling him

He was the first to discover you, he is the fastest of the brothers after all

He had raced up the stairs and didn’t even notice Belphie was even there when he barged into the room

When he saw your crumbled body laying on the floor in the attic something in him snapped.

He didn’t even realize he was crying as he clutched you to him. Quietly muttering to himself he begged, he pleaded, for you to wake up. You could yell and scream and insult him for ever agreeing to let you go do this alone but just please wake up.

“You weren’t suppose’d to leave me! You promised…. please…. please just open your eyes…”

When Mammon sees Belphie finally, he connects the dots quickly, as he remembered how Belphie felt toward humans.

“You. You did this didn’t you? You killed them.”

Anger and rage would fill him. And he would welcome it, he’d rather see red than see you not breathing

It’s only when Lucifer comes and stops him that the blinding anger begins to fade. And he hates it.

Mammon would refuse to accept your death and would try to figure out a way to get you back. It’s only when Lucifer sits him down much later on and has a serious talk with him that he finally gives up. It’s not a pretty scene. Lucifer’s heart breaks a bit when he sees just how much Mammon is suffering because of this.

It takes several sessions of talking before Mammon begins to even vaguely resemble his former self

He hoards the stuff from your room and keeps a picture of you in his wallet so that he can at least have a part of you with him always.

In the end he doesn’t truly recover from your death but will pretend he is okay to keep his brothers from worrying

Leviathan

Was eerily quiet when he saw you laying all too still on the floor

A part of him had clung to the small hope that you could be saved if he got to you fast enough

Memories of all the times he saw you smile and enjoy spending time with him flooded his head and his chest shuddered as a silent wave of despair flooded him

He’d never get to play or spend time with you anymore. He’d never get to watch those romance animes with you. He’d… he’d never…he’d never get to confess

“.....Dammit…. Dammit…”

When he learns that Belphie killed you his feelings toward him become icy.

“You… you killed the human… I hate you. I. Hate. You. You took away the bright stars in my dark night sky. You killed the person I loved!”

He would mourn alone for the most part. Anything you ever gave him will become a treasure that nobody, not even his brothers, would be allowed to touch

Becomes even more of a recluse and eventually stops having pets as they only remind him of when you and him raised one of the fish in his aquarium.

He struggles to get excited about things he would normally enjoy. Ruri-Chan has started to collect dust. His Mononoke Land account hasn’t been touched in months. He no longer goes out for idol concerts.

Time feels so slow and yet so fast. Days turn into weeks and weeks into months. Everyone else begins to recover and he just can’t. He can’t let go of you. You who showed him that little things in life can make him happy, and gave him confidence to pursue coding.

You left a hole in his heart that can’t be filled.

He doesn’t play games alot anymore, but has instead spent his time slowly starting to build an AI via his knowledge of coding. Anyone who sees it knows it’s supposed to be you, but nobody is brave enough to call him out on it.

Will sometimes cry himself to sleep while clinging onto your old uniforms and clothes, wishing desperately that you would come back to his side. To wake him up from this horrible nightmare.

Beel

Guilt.

So much guilt.

When he finds out what happened he actually struggled to get mad at Lucifer for containing Belphie.

After seeing you pale and lifeless, it was the first time he had ever felt his hunger vanish. In a way it was worse, as what replaced the hungry was a heart wrenching feeling like no other. He had no injuries but yet it felt as if someone had shoved a hot poker into his heart.

When Belphie gives him the whole “All Humans suck speech” and tries to laugh it off, Beel loses it.

“She wasn’t like them!”

Even as you grew cold in his arms he had gently stroked the top of your head and whispered a sorrow filled farwell into your ear.

Over the course of the coming weeks he would move into your room. Partially because he wanted to be closer to you and partially because he couldn’t stand to be near Belphie.

He does his best to keep your room clean and tidy, while not moving your things out of place. It looks as if you had never left, almost to the point that sometimes he can easily imagine you opening the door and resuming your life here in the Devildom.

His appetite never truly came back, his love of food diminishing as he would remember all the times you and him would cook together. Or when you would treat each other to Hell’s Kitchen.

He visits where you were buried once every two weeks, so he can replace the Lilys he leaves on your grave

Satan

Ahhh.

Very angry. And gets extremely close to killing Belphie. It’s only through Lucifer’s and Beel’s joined effort that they are able to calm him down to a civil level.

“You bastard of a brother! What the hell have you done?!”

His temper flares constantly at the very mention of Belphie.

He researches night and day to find a way to get you back. No matter the cost, no matter what he needed to do.

It’s only when Lucifer quietly asks him “Do you really think the human would want you to sacrifice everything just to bring them back?” that his resolve begins to crack.

Of course he knew you wouldn’t want to see him like this. But you had no idea how much it hurt to not have you there.

Every moment you're not there by his side is another moment he has failed you.

Eventually he breaks down due to fatigue and he just cries. He’s frustrated because nothing was working. He’s frustrated that everything is a dead end. He is frustrated that you aren’t by his side.

He just…. he wants to see your smile. He wants to see that soft look you get when you hold kittens. He wants to be able to hold you again….

Eventually He gets a small therapy kitten and he names it after you when he notices that it shares the same color of your eyes.

He vents out his pain in writing, and he writes in as much detail as he can of what he remembers of all the times he spent with you

He wants to make sure, above all else, that your memory thrives even if you aren’t by his side

Asmodus

Gets very pissy with Belphie

Reasonably so

Doesn’t realize what he is feeling is heartbreak, as he has never lost someone like this before

He misses you dearly, and oftentimes will use perfumes or cologne that reminds him of you

Unintentionally finds himself often reminiscing about you for weeks

One day he sees someone that vaguely looks like you and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest.

Immediately starts putting the moves on them but quickly realizes the differences between you and them.

The difference in pitch in their voice, the way they walk, the way that their eyes are a different color, the way they laugh. The more he observes the more he asks himself why he ever thought it was you.

He finds himself distraught. This had never happened before when any of his partners left him…. Something had to be done about this.

Attempts to banish you from his mind and goes clubbing.

His plan fails miserably.

Under the dim lights and thudding of the music he almost feels haunted by you, it was almost too easy for him to imagine you sitting and waving at him from the bar with that soft smile on your face.

He gets drunk. Veryyyyy drunk.

When he gets home he ends up just going to Belphie and venting his frustrations.

“This is your fault! Do you have ANY idea how much your actions have hurt ME?!”

Before things could escalate, Lucifer comes and defuses it

After this Amso doesn’t go out socializing anymore. He feels awful everytime he does since you're not with him. And he swears that sometimes he sees you out under the glimmering lights and it reminds him of what he has lost.

He hoards all of the pictures of you he has, and when he has a bad day he goes through them one at a time.

“Even if you are no longer by my side, I will treasure you always.”

Belphie

Mr. Killer himself.

Could not give less than two shits about who you were and what you hoped to achieve

He would have kicked your corpse an extra time if he had known that you’d made Beel care about you.

When the brothers found him he had at least thought Beel, HIS TWIN, would side with him. But nooooo. Because of your meddling you had made him seem like a monster.

“Stupid human, you had no right to stick your nose where it didn’t belong.”

Didn’t understand why the other brothers held you in such high regard, and didn’t care to learn why

Until one day when he was in the House of Lamentation by himself

Everyone had been invited to a Gala at the Castle. Each of the brothers had been personally invited by Diavolo. Save for him, who was under house arrest for his actions.

Boredom struck and he found himself wandering around the house looking for something to do when he strolled past your room.

When the brothers were home they never allowed him to go in. They feared that he would destroy your belongings, and they would lose the last remaining things that were proof of your existence here in the Devildom.

Smirking to himself he made his way inside without a care in the world. Sure the other brothers may have cared for you, but he sure as hell didn’t.

He snooped around your room for a bit before sitting down at your desk.

“How boring…. don’t you have any secrets in here…?”

As if granting his wish he saw a leather bound notebook sitting behind a bunch of Devildom Law textbooks.

Quickly reading through the contents of the smaller book he realized that it was a Journal.

Completely filled with your private thoughts.

Believing he had struck gold he took the Journal back with him to his room and lazily sprawled out on his bed. All he had to do was just dig up whatever disgusting trash you were hiding and then he would be once more in everyone’s good graces. After all it’s not as if some stupid humans privacy matters to him.

And so he read.

And read.

He firmly believed that you had to have been hiding something, some dreadful secret. But the more he read, the more he began to have this strange feeling in his gut.

Your entries were normal, er well normal of a student going to a school full of demons, and occasionally you had placed photographs of some of the events you talked about.

One of them was a TSL competition with Levi. Another was a selfie of you and Beel at Hell’s Kitchen. There was a keychain stuck between two pages from a trip with Mammon, Satan, and Lucifer to London. There was even a candid shot of a pillow fight with Diavolo and Asmo.

Forgetting that this was your life written in ink, he read more and more about the lives his brothers had led in his absence.

It wasn’t until he laughed at something you wrote that he realized how comfortable he had gotten with the idea of you.

He nearly trashed the Journal after he realized that.

But…. something stopped him.

A while later he’d resume reading. Curious about your adventures… and…

He wanted to know what you thought about him.

Before long he found the entry where you had written about him and he felt his breath hitch.

Why did your opinion of him matter so much?

His fingers touched the inked lines and his jaw clenched as he read the last entry.

You had trusted him.

You who had held no prejudice against demons had trusted him wholeheartedly.

And what had he done?

He had killed you, without a second thought.

He had even enjoyed it.

The dam he didn’t know he had been hiding behind broke, and all the regret he had been burying since he had started reading your Journal had suddenly rushed to the surface.

He hadn’t noticed he had been crying until he saw the wet blots hit the paper and smudge your words.

“I…. what have I done…. I’m so sorry….”

Lucifer

The calmest of the brothers

Outwardly, at least

Internally he wanted to rip out Belphies throat because how dare he

Doesn’t express how much it hurts to have lost you, he needs to be strong. Both for himself and for his brothers.

The tragedy of being the eldest is that he was the role model. His actions would reflect on himself and his brothers. So his reactions are more forced rather than natural.

Diavolo often tries to coax Lucifer into opening up about it but fails everytime.

“If you really cared, you would bring her back, Lord Diavolo.”

Tension between Diavolo and Lucifer gets… bad. The anger and growing resentment toward the heir of the throne only got worse with time, and eventually Lucifer stepped down from his position with Satan taking his place.

He often goes to your old room and locks himself inside, thinking to himself. The brothers are actually a bit nervous every time this happens because they expect that this time Lucifer will finally snap and they will have to deal with an enraged Avatar of Pride. But it never does so it relieves them and makes them stressed at the same time.

But eventually...

It happens

Diavolo comes by to collect the remains of your belongings, with the intent of sending them back to the human world, to your family and friends

Lucifer sees him collecting your stuff and he fucking snaps

“If you value your life you will cease this at once.”

Before Diavolo can summon Barbatos to his side, Lucifer had managed to grab the prince by the throat. His form had changed to that of his demon self, and his eyes were mad from grief and anger.

There is a brief moment of struggle on Diavolo’s behalf followed by Lucifer leaning uncomfortably close with an aura of unbridled fury.

“You will bring her back, I know you are able to. And you will. Why? Because if you don’t I will rampage through this kingdom of yours until there is nothing but ashes left in my wake.”

#Obey Me #Obey Me Headcanon #Obey Me Lucifer #Obey Me Mammon #Obey Me Leviathan #Obey Me Beel #Obey Me Asmodus #Obey Me Satan #Obey Me Belphie #no beta we die like men

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

For a Smile

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert Word count: 5400

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, OC x reader (brief)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, OFC, OC

Summary: You see him run past every morning. So you smile, because he looks like a nice person. How could he not be when he smiles back and the world stops for a while to pay respect to such beauty?

And sometimes… sometimes this incredibly handsome man smiles first.

Warnings: mentions and hints of (psychically) abusive relaionship, suggestive themes, swearing, all the fluff in the world

A/N: I used to pass this guy near a café playing music every morning when I went to school and at some point, our eyes kinda met and we smiled at each other; then we did that every day. I kid you not, he’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not a Hollywood-star smile, no – it’s a guy-next-door smile, heart-warming, with his eyes simply shining. He’s like a kid on Christmas Day… I could ramble on. Anyway, just so you knew what brought this on.

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A smile costs less than electricity, and gives more light. (Scottish proverb)

Warm honey, sandstone and apricot orange melting into indigo, cerulean blue and stone-grey sky. Merigold playing with salmon and rose pink, teasing each other and making space to the warmer shades of orange.

You watched the beautiful colours of sunrise as you shifted your legs for a bit, causing the simple plank hanging on two tattered ropes sway, a smile tugging on your lips.

It was a little childish really, or it may appear so to anyone who would be passing by; but given what an early riser you were, just so you could watch this breath-taking game of colours, the little miracle of nature, no person could question you as you were dangling your feet off the old swing.

On your way to work, if the time allowed it, you would always make a stop on your favourite spot; a no-name park in upstate New York you were walking through every day, rather calm and drunks-free at the early hour.

Once upon a time, someone had placed a simple swing on one of the trees farther from the path. You sent a silent thank you every time you parked your behind there. You weren’t a monster; if a kid wanted to sit here, you would have gladly (...reluctantly) made space for them, but they seemed to always be more mesmerized by the playground with the actual swings, the chutes, the monkey bars and the sandpit. You couldn’t say you complained though, having the old-fashioned swing for yourself.

It was childish, perhaps; though your mother had once chosen that you should be going into accounting and so you had. Numbers and bills were things even adults hated, but that was what being old enough meant. You didn’t mind it too often, plunging into them for living, but… you needed to compensate, so you felt entitled.

Plus, the motion of the swing was soothing, as if magically transporting you back to your childhood indeed, with less worries, more ease and pure mind.

Yeah, sitting on the swing was your favouri-

Rapid staccato of feet hitting the ground in the distance, no doubt scaring off the birds chiming their morning songs, reached your ears and you had to admit you wouldn’t be completely honest with yourself if you said this was the favourite moment of your day only because of the aforementioned reasons.

There was one more.

It had strong long sweatpants-clad legs, broad shoulders in a sports t-shirt with seams crying for help, blond hair and-

Your heart melted along with your brain as your lips curled up in a genuine smile you sent in return.

-and the most beautiful smile in the whole universe.

You never spoke. Didn’t say hello. You never even nodded in mutual acknowledgement.

You just… smiled at each other.

And that was your favourite moment of the day crafted to perfection. A breath-taking sunrise, almost eclipsed by a mesmerizing display of the row of perfect white teeth framed by plush coral red lips and the twinkle in beautiful inviting eyes of a stranger.

You knew his name despite never exchanging a single word. Everyone knew his name. But Captain Rogers – Steven Grant Rogers – was a name that held no meaning. He didn’t know yours and probably never would; so strangers was who you were. A couple of strangers exchanging a smile every morning and lightening up (hopefully) each other’s day.

It always felt nice when you glanced at someone on the street, then just… somehow smiled and they smiled back, didn’t it? So what if you were an adult woman dealing with numbers for Stark Industries sitting on a swing and he was a deservedly treasured national icon?

It made no difference.

Just two people sharing a tiny piece of their day for a smile.

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“You’re insane,” your colleague stated dryly as she walked into the office at seven thirty, already finding you with an empty coffee cup, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Huh?” you raised your eyes from the screen on autopilot, not really paying attention.

You still noticed Harry rolling her eyes; it was just that distinctive.

“I said that you’re insane, you crazy-ass lark. My brain isn’t even awake yet. To be fair, I’m ninety percent sure I met Captain Handsome in the hall along with our boss, so it’s hard to tell if I’m dreaming or not, having a vision like that.”

“Captain Handsome?” you frowned, your mind racing, desperately trying to remember who was Harriet’s newest crush. ‘Captain Handsome’ could be literally anyone.

“Our resident Star-Spangled Man, you dummy. You’re low on caffeine. Or sleep. That’s what you get, getting up in such an ungodly hour…” she hummed, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at you sceptically, a drop of disappointment in her eyes.

Oh. Oh! That made sense; if the man was with Tony Stark, the range of options narrowed significantly, especially since your friend had called him a captain. Except it didn’t make any sense at all.

“What was he doing here? I mean… since when is he wandering in our department? It’s all across the compound here from the training area.”

“Well, look who’s actually awake and bright-minded…” It was your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “My point exactly. No clue, but lemme tell you – seeing that ass? Definitely made my day,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the coffee machine and you couldn’t but chuckle at her bluntness.

Your stranger had an amazing smile, that was true. But your gaze did slide elsewhere on occasion too; which was why you would never try to disprove Harry’s claim.

“We might have the Ironman for a boss, but, girl… I’d like to know what Rogers’ ass is made of then,” she added and you burst into another fit of giggles, your face feeling hot all of sudden when your mind unhelpfully supplied with ‘vibranium’.

What would it feel like?

Yeah, you definitely needed to go back to your numbers before your impure thoughts got the best of you.

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The first time you two met outside the park, you were in a bar.

You hadn’t seen him for almost a month, assuming he went on a long-drawn mission; one that had ended well, clearly, since he was out drinking. Just eyeing his companions and instantly noting his body language, you could tell he was suffering. Like, not literally suffering, but it was very much obvious he was not feeling comfortable.

His eyes were drifting all over the place, as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes laughed loudly, patting his shoulders while a hint or red dusted his cheeks, and then they fell on you.

His face was screaming ‘save me!’; yet, his smile was still as warm and kind as ever, an impossible spark within his irises, visible even from the distance. That twinkle was always the biggest mystery to you, because logically, no person could have eyes so bright, but here he was, proving your claim wrong.

Your lips spread in a smile automatically and encouraged by your second drink, you considered adding a small silly wave.

Before you could execute the decision, the result of your two last braincells arguing whether it would be more silly or sweet, an arm sneaked around your shoulders and your smile widened on instinct at the sensation. You turned your head to Cade and met his lips halfway to yours.

You had been dating for almost a month now and this inconspicuous guy from logistic of a giant company that was surprisingly not Stark Industries was a dream coming true. He was showering you with so much attention you weren’t sure he was real. Late-night conversations via phonecalls or texts, good morning, good night, kisses that lasted long enough for you to forget that you in fact needed oxygen, touches that set you on fire. He was easy to fall in love with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout that got you smilin’ so wide, babe?” he whispered to your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

Gosh, you wanted him. The first sex hadn’t been so great, Cade chasing his own release, but hey, first times were always hard in a new relationship. The more were you excited about your second time and you were confident the second time would happen tonight.

“Nah, just smiling at strangers. You know that feeling, so nice, when you just toss a smile and they smile back?” your eyes found his, only to see him frown.

“I like it better when you smile for me, babe. What did some stranger do for you to deserve that?” he hummed discontentedly, pouting adorably as his hand slid lower to squeeze your hip possessively. It sent a spark through your body, a lightning striking right into your core.

“Just teasing you, Cade. I was thinking about how I lucked out,” you batted your eyelashes and a slow delicious smirk played with the corner of his mouth all of sudden, intensifying the heat inside of you.

“Wanna get out of here, pretty thing? Lemme show you how lucky you are?” he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, pulling it down a fraction. “Or maybe… show me how much you think you lucked out, huh? How much you appreciate being mine?”

God, yes.

Judging by the glint in his eyes and the hungry kiss that lasted too short – but too long for such a public place – he didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He swung by the bar to pay for your drink and practically dragged you out of the rather crowded space. Your head was spinning a bit and you couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or alcohol. Either way, you really, really liked it.

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“You know that Cade was a dick right?” Harry noted nonchalantly while she handed you a cup of coffee and assessed (correctly) that you were sulking again, thinking back to that one particular night when you had noticed the first sign – or you would have if you hadn’t been such a goddamn idiotic goose of a woman, drunk on top of that.

You sighed and sipped your punishingly bitter dose of caffeine.

You were positively brooding and you didn’t care if it affected anyone else. The world apparently hated you and you couldn’t quite blame it.

Not even your precious strangers-exchanging-smile moments felt the same anymore. First, your stranger had started smiling less brightly after your encounter at the bar and then, even if it had changed, you wouldn’t be able to tell, because you were too wrapped in your own misery. Even the curve of his lips looked sad, which was a stupid thing to say, because he had no way of knowing about either Cade turning out to be an abuser-in-making or about you breaking things off with him and cracking your fragile heart in the process, while yelling at yourself mentally every morning and still longing for Cade’s arms around you since it always felt oh, oh so good to be held…

You recognized the signs early, but not soon enough. You let it escalate into him trying to control when you went out and with whom, him lashing out when you wouldn’t respond to his text in longer than five-minutes time, letting him yell at you when you missed his call… he loved you, after all, he just missed you and was afraid you were with someone else, and oh babe, come here, you can make it up to me…

Your sister had gone through something similar, for god’s sake. You should have noticed sooner. You should have known better. But no, you had allowed your body, your twat to be precise, to rule your brain and that had been stupid.

Cade had tried to get in touch several times after your break-up, even waiting in front of your apartment until you would go out once; you might have threatened him with a restraining order after that particular day and he had stopped quickly after that, only two of three attempts with a new e-mail address and number to get pass you blocking his previous ones.

Still. It made you miserable. And perhaps a bit self-hateful.

You deserved every bitter drop of Harry’s horrible coffee and more.

“I was being blind and stupid,” you opposed and returned to your figures, deciding your exchange was over. Figures were clear enough; they were easy to read and didn’t make your brain drunk on endorphins and other very specific hormones allowing you to act like a teenage girl, excited at her first boyfriend groping her. “Thanks for the coffee.”

A huff sounded above your head and suddenly your swivel chair was being yanked back and turned around, a pair of strict chocolate eyes boring into your soul with startling clarity. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around the armrests as she was leaning into your space.

You backed into your chair instinctively. She looked menacing.

“He was a charming bastard from what I heard and his type always knows how to manipulate people, letting them see what he wants them to see. It’s not your fault. You’re one badass of a woman, smart as hell for noticing before it escalated. You’re my hero. Mine and every other person’s who has ever been in or even heard of an abusive relationship. You can do better than him. It’s a funny coincidence they spelled his name wrong anyway.”

You blinked away your sudden tears, immensely grateful for her words that somehow wormed their way inside your very core (you blamed the intense stare that reminded of your mother’s when she was giving you the kind of talk that was too serious for you to handle) and yet you tilted your head in confusion, not understanding the meaning of her last statement.

“Huh? His… his name?” you stuttered, baffled.

Harry positioned your chair back to its place with a grin and went back to her own business.

“Clearly, they added an ‘E’ at the end. What a stupid typo…” she threw over her shoulder cheekily and when you caught up, understanding her point, you released the first honest laughter in what felt like a year.

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Your life had been set off to better course after that short conversation. You felt like you were healing every day, finding yourself lighter. Happier. Freer of the baggage Cade had tried to left you with. The sensation was indescribable and it radiated from you; some days more noticeably than others.

You found yourself indulging the blond stranger’s smiles once more, finally seeing the spark in his eyes again, the genuine curve of his lips warming your heart and starting off your day in the best way imaginable.

Naturally, life had a reliable means of showing you it could suck.

Right when you thought that you were fine, it delivered another blow; your favourite place in the world… ceased to exist.

Someone put the swing in the park down.

They just… erased it from existence.

Maybe they considered it dangerous. Maybe they were being dicks. Maybe they thought it was old and ugly. It didn’t quite matter.

You could weep, mourning your intimate inanimate friend.

You didn’t cry. But it was a damn close call as you shuffled towards the playground and eyed it sceptically. You knew it wouldn’t be the same and not just because the swings were in a plain sight, but they also looked too fancy, to actually child-like and— they weren’t your swing. Your sanctuary. Your private space. Your secret place you never told anyone about, not Cade or your previous boyfriends, not your family, not Harry or other friends, not to anyone.

You watched the sun rise on the horizon, ridiculously heavy feeling in your chest, ignorant to the rest of the world.

God, you hated Mondays. You already knew this week was about to be a disaster.

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“There’s a swing outside in the green area.”

“Huh?” you hummed distractedly, too deep into figures to register more than the sound of your friend’s voice. What was her name again? What was yours? What day was today? What was the time? Had you already had lunch? Had the lunch-time already passed…?

A chuckle followed by a to-be offended tone responded to your intelligent way of communicating.

“I’m starting to think ‘Huh’ is my name with how often you call me that,” Harry (aha!) remarked with a hint of sass, but repeated herself, because she knew she shouldn’t take it personal that you didn’t quite payed her any attention. You were a person who would get sucked into their own world, too focused on one task to acknowledge anything else. “A swing. In our compound park. It’s kinda cute, hidden from a plain sight though, a simple wooden thing.”

You slowly raised your eyes to hers, your pupils widening with surprise. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, your heartbeat no doubt shaking your whole frame.

Harry was telling you that there was… a swing. In the compound area. Hidden from everyone’s prying eyes, at least partly.

Why?

How?

You could only come up with one ridiculous theory which involved you, but that idea alone was laughable. Why would anyone do that for you? More importantly, how did anyone know-

“You think it’s an invitation for children? Like, is ‘bring your kids to work’ day happening any time soon? ‘cause, not to be rude and greedy, but one swing doesn’t seem like— hey!” Harry called after you, but you could barely hear her as you jumped to your feet, your heels be damned, and strode through the halls with zero regards to anyone in your way.

Not that there was a soul; people actually worked around here, too busy to wander the halls.

The thing was, that one theory about the swing didn’t just involve you. It involved one more person, but that person was a stranger to you and had no reason to even… acknowledge you. Besides the obvious part of your day that no longer existed – not in the way it used to. But the thought was simply laughable.

A different part of your brain raised a figurative sceptical eyebrow, argumenting that you had no better explanation for the phenomenon.

Because… you loved Harry. She knew about your traditional early morning watching the sunrise, but not about the swing. The swing was always a secret, no one knew, except… except one particular guy who always passed you on his morning run and exchanged a smile with you and just happened to work at the very same compound you did and technically had the power to pull the strings to make this happen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you gasped for fresh air when you finally made it out of the building, your eyes searching for a calm spot, a tree in whose shades you could possibly find a prove of Harry not pulling your leg.

Your heart positively stopped when your eyes fell on the simple plank hanging on two ropes, indeed offering a safe space for anyone who decided to sit there in search for serenity.

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, your feet moving of their own will despite semi-high heels digging into the ground an inch with each step, bringing you closer to that little, yet breath-taking miracle. A chuckle escaped your lips when your trembling fingers brushed the grey ropes, more of your senses acknowledging that this was in fact happening.

Your hand followed the line of the rope, sliding to the plank, only to notice a rough sensation on your fingertips in the corner. A carving, you realized.

Tears of surprise actually welled up when you recognized they were initials. Your initials.

How-- how was that possible?

‘Sit down, you dummy!’ your consciousness cried out exasperatedly. ‘It’s clearly for you!’

“But why?” you asked it under your breath incredulously, thousands of questions ruminating, no answers on the horizon.

Regardless, you reluctantly lowered yourself, shocked when your feet dangled above the ground in precisely the same way they used to-- they used to in the park. It was even installed in the same height.

Reverently, you gave the swing a test-drive, just tiny motions of your feet to try it out.

It was perfect.

Your gaze fell on a sign on the tree trunk, small, subtle and harmonizing with the place without a fault.

Sanctuary of the kind ones. Do not disturb, it read.

You giggled breathlessly, lightheaded and with no care in the world.

That naturally changed when you spotted your very much expectant colleague in the distance, her arms crossed on her chest, figuratively tapping her foot and screaming questions without saying a single word.

The thing is, you thought, I have no idea how to answer.

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Perhaps it was naïve, a child-like trust and excitement, but the next day, you went to your new spot expecting to enjoy the sunrise there and not to be disturbed indeed.

You weren’t.

What you couldn’t quite prepare yourself for was the single daisy lying on the wood, starling you to no end. Hesitating all of sudden, you searched your surroundings, wondering if you interrupted someone else’s plan. Perhaps someone had the same initials as you and whoever made this happen had a different person in mind, doing it for them and the swing was just a funny coincidence.

But then in the middle of your mussing – on the swing, because, screw it, you might as well enjoy this since no one had kicked you out yet – a familiar figure ran past, gracing you with a beautiful smile, once again without a word and with a shy gaze falling to the ground after you met their eyes. With that, it… actually started to settle.

He had done this for you. For some incredible inexplicable reason… your smiling ‘stranger’ offered you a kindness of unseen measures.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you would find a different flower on the wood every day for the whole week. They weren’t even fancy flowers, which made it absolutely magical. Daisy. Tulip. Lilly. No red roses, only cute blossoms, matching the simplicity of the swing.

Harry was nearing the verge of insanity due to your goofy smiles and flowers in your hands; but you remained tight-lipped like an international spy during an interrogation, too afraid that if you said it out loud, sharing that ridiculous impression you were getting these days with anyone, your bubble would burst.

And surely enough, as if you jinxed it mentally, the next Wednesday, no flower waited for you.

It was ridiculous how your mood died instantly. It could have had hundreds of explanations including the one that he went for a mission, because he was Captain Freaking America, in case your stupid heart forgot, but nope, you would still feel the corners of your lips turn down.

You watched the shades of orange bleeding into blue and grey, lost in thought and with unsettling longing in your heart.

You suspected his steps sounded purposely loud when they came from behind you, where you wouldn’t expect them. You didn’t need to see the familiar Nikes on his feet to know it was him; you doubted anyone else would approach you, let alone at such early hour.

Yet you would lie saying your heart didn’t skip a beat when he stopped in his slow tracks by your side, steady feet next to your dangling ones, and you had his identity confirmed.

Your throat went dry and stiff, your voice dying before it could form.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered reverently, not disturbing the peace of the indeed lovely scenery in front of you.

You didn’t dare to look away from the sunrise as your voice came out unfairly scratchy, a stark contrast to his deep and smooth one that felt like a caress on your skin.

“It is.”

Silence fell on your pair again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds sung their morning songs, waking up the world and you didn’t think words were needed. Except you owed him something, and you wanted to say it.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the painting by the most amazing artist, the nature itself, you casted a glance at him.

You didn’t realize you had never seen him still; duh, you did know that, but what didn’t quite click in your brain was that you would be able to see him in all his glory, soft smile and an absent gaze framed by long eyelashes, shadows casted all over his face and body, playing games which gave him a surprisingly ethereal aura for a man of his built.

Your stomach tied itself into a knot at the sight and the ‘thank you’ got once again stuck in your throat when his eyes turned to you as well, you breath stolen from your lungs, your lips parting uselessly and curling into a smile on instinct when his did.

Despite seeing the too startling sparkle up close, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the deep blue with a hint of green of his irises. It was just too captivating, locking you in a sweet cage you didn’t feel trapped in, but free and suddenly able to breathe in again.

“Thank you,” slipped from your lips unwittingly, shocking to your own ears.

The very same hint of scarlet you remembered from the infamous bar encounter dusted his cheeks, his smile softening as he turned a bashful gaze away, now fixated on the ground.

“Just wanted to see you smile again. Best part of my day,” he admitted, peeking at you from the insanely long and thick eyelashes and you could melt on spot, dizzying vertigo overcoming you at the sweet words. Good thing you were sitting.

You had no idea how to respond, your heartbeat thumping in your temples, your face feeling too hot and chest pleasantly warm at such admission. Your teeth went to chew on your lip and you abruptly stopped yourself. Bad, bad habit.

“Was… was that the only thing? Because the swing would be more than enough, let alone with my initials, and the flowers-“

“Maybe-“ he softly interrupted your lame attempt at flirting which had turned into a babble, but with same nerves coursing his voice unless your senses were playing tricks on you. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that he might be as nervous as you were-- the strangest thing in the world, wouldn’t it be? “Maybe I could tell you… over a coffee?”

A daffodil entered your field of vision, happy, bright and yet somehow shy in his big hand and you didn’t think twice before accepting it, your fingers brushing his skin in the process only half-accidentally. Passing you the flower, he offered you a hand so he could assist you in standing up.

Ah, as if he knew your knees felt wobbly and uncooperating with the overwhelming turn of events.

You didn’t hesitate to accept that either. You had a hunch that the manners of a forties’ man would be offended if you didn’t anyway.

“Thank you. Again.”

The twinkle in his eyes shone brighter at your words, his smile widening.

“My pleasure.”

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“If I trip over something, I’ll bully you into carrying me everywhere for the next month,” you threatened in a joking manner as your boyfriend of one year led you through his apartment with his huge palm sprawled over your eyes, while his other gently rested on your lower back, making sure you maintained some balance.

“I wouldn’t complain about that. Are you serious? Because I just might let you trip then…” he teased back and you could hear the grin in his voice, mesmerized by the happy note in it. You would roll your eyes at him fondly, but he wouldn’t see it, so there was no point.

“Don’t you dare…”

“Okay, let’s stop now,” he whispered in your ear, his hand shifting to your hip to squeeze lightly, causing you to shiver. You and Steve had taken your time when it came to physical aspect of your relationship (past certain bases anyway), so a touch like that still sent a delicious electrifying feeling through your whole body.

As if you weren’t excited enough ever since the moment he had told you he had had a surprise for you.

Chewing on your lower lip, you followed his gentle instruction and stopped in your tracks.

“Should I be afraid?” you asked for the fourth time in the past five minutes.

“Terrified,” he confirmed in a joking manner. “You ready?”

Not waiting for your answer, he uncovered your eyes and with a deep inhale, you snapped them open.

Only for your breath to hitch at the sight in front of you.

“Oh my god... it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, a surprised chuckle escaping past your lips.

In the corner of the living room, soft marigold pillows laid in a circular hammock chair coloured in the indigo of an early sunrise, practically begging for you to jump in and nestle there with a book and relax.

Instantly reminded of how you met Steve in the first place, you couldn’t but spun on your heels and threw your arms around him, strong arms eagerly welcoming you as his chest shook with hushed chuckle.

“Glad you like it,” he murmured, hiding his face in your hair, raising you from the floor effortlessly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Happy anniversary, Steve. This truly is amazing. I love it!”

“But not more than me?”

It was your turn to chuckle as you retreated, placing a kiss on his nose and earning a pout that simply had to be kissed away.

“No, Steve, not even this amazing hammock compares to you. I’ll show you exactly how much I love you in a sec, I just have to test it out,” you promised.

He released you with no protest and watched with a fond smile as you climbed in with a child-like excitement, the corners of his eyes twinkling. He slowly made his way to you as the hammock swung gently with your weight and you sent him a delighted grin as he sat on his heels in front of you, his hands landing on the edges so he had the control over the movements.

“What’s the verdict?” he pried softly and you opened your mouth to respond with enough enthusiasm to power the state of New York for a year; but he continued. ”Is it comfy enough for you to… make you consider- that maybe-- you could… stay here more often?”

Your breath hitched, your throat swelling when you got a pretty good idea of what he was asking from his serious gaze. Yet, you needed to make sure, butterflies in your stomach flipping their wings wildly as you leaned forward, invisible magnets pulling you towards him.

“And by ‘more often’ you mean-“

“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes roaming your face nervously, trying to spy a reaction, read the answer in your expression alone.

You chuckled incredulously, ecstatic at such proposition, and placed your palms to both sides of Steve’s face, grateful for his grip on the hammock and trusting him not to let you faceplant on him with how hazardous the kiss you gave him was.

Your eyelids fluttered close, but you felt his smile as his lips engaged in a tender dance with yours, one of his hands sneaking to the side of your neck to pull you closer, tilting your head as his tongue teased your lips to part.

How could you deny him anything even when you felt like you were about to fall face-down any second? He would be under you when you landed anyway. What more could you wish for-

“I love you,” he breathed to your mouth as he broke the kiss for one damned second that felt like eternity; one second in which you forgot to suck more air in even when given the opportunity. Who needed oxygen anyway? You could breathe Steve in and live blissfully, it was what you were trying to do for the past minute and it was glorious- “That’s a yes, right?”

A chuckle escaped you as you dodged another kiss, his lips landing in your hair instead, the hammock swaying hazardously. Mm, seemed like your supersoldier was too distracted to watch your balance.

“Yes. The hammock totally convinced me,” you teased him lightly, an idea striking you when you said those words. Climbing down as he was still sitting in front of you on his heels, you lowered yourself on him, nestling in his lap and leaning to his ear and sharing your not necessarily filthy thought in a breathless whisper. “But I think I still like sitting right here much better.”

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S.R. masterlist

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart

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Thank you for reading :-*

P.S. - Keep smiling; at the people you love whenever you can, at strangers and at the person you see in the mirror :))

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #reader insert #fluff #one-shot #steve rogers oneshot #captain america oneshot #avengers #captain america #for a smile #anika ann

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