#and they didn’t have the glove on BEFORE izzy died…..
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okay wait wait wait hold the fuck up. I may very well be reading into this too much but like. this picture is from the very end of ep8 right,, ARE THEY FUCKING WEARING IZZY’S GLOVE?????? or at least mimicking it???? um????
#HELLO??? 🥺🥺🥺#like. I may just be crazy. but I feel like since vico is such an izzy stan like…#that doesn’t seem like an insignificant costuming choice…#and they didn’t have the glove on BEFORE izzy died…..#if I’m right I’m actually going to cry oh my god#imagine… like aragorn wearing boromirs bracers…#ofmd#ofmd spoilers#jim#izzy hands#jim jimenez
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Please Don't
The Revenge is under attack. Major character death today. Also on AO3.
Jim stared at the ship sailing toward them and thought there was something familiar about the Captain and the flag. They stared at the man and tried to remember where they had seen him before.
“He does look sort of familiar doesn’t he?” Archie said.
“Oh good I’m not the only one,” Jim said.
“Losing your memory? Bit young for that,” Archie teased.
“What do you know about memory, you’ve never even had one,” Jim teased back.
“Ah yeah, that’s true,” Archie said. Archie was right about getting older though, Jim never thought they’d live to be fifty, never thought they’d start going gray and wrinkly but here they were. And Archie had gone gray a long time ago, a beautiful silvery gray that Jim loved to run their hands through.
“Wait, wait wasn’t that the fucker who kidnapped Roach?” Archie asked.
“Fuck, that’s him, he’s gonna try to take the fucking ship, I’ll tell Frenchie,” Jim said.
“Oh not that fucker again,” Frenchie said, “Thought we got the best of him. I’ve only been back on my feet a little bit…”
“Two months.”
“A little bit, we’ll let’s not give him an inch,” Frenchie said.
Captain Pillow, that was the fuckers name, came in with guns blazing and men jeering and full of ambition. But he was still inexperienced and his methods were sloppy at best and downright idiotic at worst.
They had no one guarding their ship when they came aboard the Revenge, Jim and Wee John decided that was the perfect opportunity to blow it up so they would have no escape. Wee John was a little hesitant with the gunpowder but in the end it was the best choice and they were already over there.
The powder exploded and the ship started to sink. Pillow and some of his men were begging for mercy when Jim climbed back on deck. Good, that was all they were going to have to deal with that fucker. Frenchie might take on a man or two but Pillow was going over the side one way or another.
“Jim!” Roach yelled as soon as Jim got back on board. The tone of his voice was almost panicky and he was kneeling on the ground next to someone hurt. Not just someone, Archie.
“Fuck,” Jim cursed under their breath. Archie was shaking and groaning in pain. She’d been hit in the center of her body and there was blood pouring from the wound and forming a puddle beneath her.
“Archie?”
“Hey babe, mmm a bit fucked up.”
“I can see that, I need you to hold on,” Jim said. They looked up at Roach even though deep down Jim knew there was nothing to be done. Roach shook his head just a little bit.
“Nah, little dudes here,” Archie said.
“Izzy’s here?” Jim asked, and Archie nodded.
“Have to go soon,” Archie said. Her voice was getting weaker, her breathing weaker and Jim knew there was nothing that could be done about it. Still it didn’t make it easy to admit to that.
“Please don’t go Archie, please don’t take her Izzy,” Jim pleaded.
“Sss okay Jim,” Archie said, “Being here’s been the best.”
Jim held Archie close and couldn’t help it when they started to cry. Archie looked up at them, smiling even though it was clear she was in pain.
“Love you,” Archie whispered.
“I love you too,” Jim said. Despite the horrible wound when Archie went it looked peaceful, she let out a long breath and then just didn’t take another one. She went limp in Jim’s arms. Jim ran their fingers through Archie’s hair for a while as they cried.
After a while they felt a tingling on their gloved hand that they knew was Izzy. Jim didn’t want to talk to Izzy and ignored the feeling.
*****
“Well fuck,” Archie said and Izzy couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. Archie turned to face him and offered him a smile.
“Sorry Archie.”
“Nah, had to happen sometime right?” Archie said.
Izzy nodded, “Still, I’m sorry it had to be like that, I remember how that felt.”
“Will you promise to look after Jim? And the others?”
“I’ve been doing it all this time, I’ll be with them till the last one of them dies,” Izzy said.
Archie sighed, “Guess I’m ready to go then.”
“Come on, I’ll take you as far as I can go then go check on Jim,” Izzy said. Izzy went straight back to Jim as soon as Archie was across. Jim was still holding Archie’s body and crying. Of the few he’d collected so far none had reminded him of his own death more than this. He remembered the pain of dying for a gunshot wound, he remembered Ed holding him and how Ed cried when he was gone.
Izzy touched Jim’s gloved hand but wasn’t really surprised when Jim didn’t react or say anything. Izzy knew that Jim knew he was there. He backed off to let them grieve. It was getting harder to do his job as more and more often when he was popping into the world of the living it was to take one of the crew back with him. But he had signed up for this duty and he would see it done to the end.
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Details of an AU I’m writing a fic for because I said so and also class is slow
Sorry in advance, this is a long one!
okay SO, modern AU where Stede is a florist owns a flower shop on a street corner with some apartments above it (he lives there). Ed is a member of a rock band with Izzy, Ivan, and Fang that’s gaining popularity, he also lives in these apartments and is usually practicing with them in the afternoons. Because Ed’s apartment isn’t super far above the shop they can usually hear the band playing and this wasn’t a problem until it just kept getting louder and the lyrics were getting more vulgar. So Stede storms up and when Ed opens the door he’s greeted with this man in gardening gloves rambling about keeping the noise down during business hours and how they need to be more considerate before storming away. Ed is immediately smitten, he goes down to apologize soon after. Slow-burn friends to lovers where there’s loads of mutual pining but Stede is a little dense and doesn’t realize Ed likes him back until they’re literally kissing.
Stede:
- Used to work for his family’s Law Firm and absolutely hated it.
- Mary and the kids! They all still get along, in this AU Stede didn’t leave in the night, he came to terms with who he was at the ripe age of 38 and they got a divorce-- this fic is set four years after this. Stede likes Doug, sometimes he and Mary argue about parenting choices but overall are good, Stede has yet to be in a relationship.
- Stede named his flower shop The Revenge as an act of defiance against his father, who constantly tells Stede he’s a disappointment and will eventually come crawling back to him-- Stede has a knack for flower hybrids so yeah, no, not happening. He’s one of the most successful florists in town (not that there are many) and is doing very well for himself!
- Speaking of his shop, he works with Lucius, Pete, Olu, Jim, and Frenchie. Wee John, Roach, Buttons, and the Swede are good friends of theirs and they all often have movie nights in the back room of the shop. it’s a little cramped, but they all love it.
Ed:
- Used to party way too much in college and has been a member of many bands. The one he’s in now seems to be going somewhere though, Ed is an amazing guitarist. He offers to teach Stede how to play but it’s mostly an excuse to put his hands over Stede’s to show him how his fingers should be on the frets.
- Definitely a sap but doesn’t show it much around other people. When he likes someone it’s painfully obvious though, and Izzy is furious when he realizes his dumbass band leader is in love with someone like Stede.
- Asks Stede to teach him about flowers-- He’s really good at arranging bouquets but keeps using flowers with really passive aggressive meanings behind them (”Ed, this looks lovely, but these flowers are essentially telling whoever you’re giving this to to die in a hole.” “??? Flowers can talk???”). At one point Stede puts some flowers in his hair end Ed about dies.
- Ed learns Stede’s favorite flower is Edelweiss and gets a tattoo of some on his hip. He doesn’t tell Stede where it is (or that he got it because of Stede), just tells him that he got a flower tattoo because he realized that he liked flowers a lot. Stede eventually gets to see it in person and melts.
I have yet to come up with a name for the fic (ideas welcome, I’d be sure to credit you!) but if y’all want I can share a link when I start posting it on Ao3! I’ll also be doing some art for this AU and if anyone makes any I’d love to see it! :)
#ofmd#our flag means death#our flag means gay#modern au#flower shop au#rockstar au#ofmd blackbonnet#ofmd stede#ofmd ed#fanfic#fanfic ideas
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stranger
scenario: trying to show Bucky that your there for him during tfatws, but he keeps ignoring you
a/n: i started writing this yesterday after watching the first episode of tfatws. if people like this, i might make this a whole ff following the show, so let me know if you like this. also please ignore any mistakes or if it’s wordy, i haven’t written anything in months. i am open to criticism!
edit: i didn’t realize i didn’t name until i was trying to add it to my masterlist, so please ignore the half-assed name, please and thankyou
reader has been left gender-neutral and has no specific race written
spoiler warning
It had been a few months since everyone started reappearing, yourself included. The last thing you remembered was waiting out the fight with Thanos with Shuri, and you remembered feeling lighter then usual and you watched as your friend turned to dust before your very eyes. However what felt like the same breathe, you watched as her being was rebuilt by the same dust the took her away.
It had been a lot to process, to know that you and others close to you had basically died, and came back to the same exact fight happening. It was worse to come back to know that one of your dearest friends was dead and she couldn’t be brought back like the lot of you. It sucked standing in-between Bucky and Sam at Tony’s funeral.
You had missed five years of life, and for what? For some giant purple pyscho titan to stop over population and then become a space rancher? In your eyes, it was complete and utter bullshit. But you can’t change the past.
With Steve’s retirement, Bucky’s pardon, and Sam still kicking ass and saving people as The Falcon, you felt lost. Everyone else has scattered around to handle everything by themselves. But you thrived off of others, that’s just how you worked. So, sitting lonely in your single bedroom Brooklyn apartment, you let out a loud sigh.
You stayed in New York, purely for Bucky’s sake. The man is a hundred and six, and is an ex-assassin, he doesn’t need your help. Especially since you can barely hold a gun without nearly pissing your pants. But you knew the man was basically alone. He spent his past ninety years being in and out of ice fighting, except when he had his moment of peace in Wakanda.
You’ve tried to reach out, called him every now and again, but it was always went to voicemail. You left so many voicemails, your surprised it isn’t full by now. But you’ll keep leaving them, no matter if he actually listens to them or if he just deletes them immediately. You hoped that they gave him some sort of comfort if he did ever listen to them.
You looked at the time, it was a quarter past eleven. You let out another sigh. Something you still haven’t been able to get down was your damn sleep schedule. Sometimes you stayed up until two - three in the morning and sleep into the afternoon, and that was on a good day. You tried to establish a routine, but it just never worked. If you tried to go to bed earlier, you end up either staring at the ceiling till sunrise or waking up in the middle of the night, for no reason. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, you didn’t have a nightmare, you just woke up, and you couldn’t go back to sleep, no matter what you tried. You’ve expressed this to your brother, you suggests maybe you go see a therapist, maybe do a sleep study, but you just shut the ideas down. That was the last things you wanted to do, was be monitored.
However, you couldn’t do this anymore. You forced yourself out of bed and changed your clothes from your normal sweatpants and baggy t-shirt to leggings and a slightly less baggy shirt. If you couldn’t fall asleep naturally, might as well take a walk around the block and maybe take a melatonin tablet or two, see if that does anything.
Locking your door, you start walking down your hall when you see a man walk away from your neighbor’s, Yori Nakajima’s, door. You’ve known the old man for as long as you lived here. You’ve tried to help him out as much as he will let you, and even though he’ll never admit it, he appreciates the help. He tries to repay in small ways, he even offers you to join him and a younger friend of his for sushi down at Izzy, but you always turn him down. You helped to help, not get anything in return.
You walked up to Yori’s door but he closed it before you could reach his door. You sighed and instead decided to talk to the man walking away.
“Excuse me!” You called out, walking towards him. He seemed to tense up and walked a little faster but you touch his arm before he could go much farther.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I just have a few question...”
He cursed under his breathe but he didn’t move. That’s when you noticed the way he held himself. His body language very much showed he was uncomfortable, and whether he was doing on purpose or subconsciously, he was leaning away from where your hand met his arm.
You moved your hand back down to your side but you walked in front of him and you froze when you saw his face.
“Bucky?!”
He seemed to shy into himself more when you recognized who he was, making you instantly felt bad. However, examining him he looked different. His hair was a big one, ever since you first met Bucky, his hair was shoulder length. But he looked a lot cleaner with shorter hair, his loose curls a lot more prominent now. However, that seemed to showcase the most change. It felt as if he went backwards more than anything.
His jacket, the gloves, the brooding energy radiating off of him. He felt like the man you met back when the whole “Civil War” mess was happening.
He softly addressed you, but he still never looked at you directly. It was concerning especially since you considered you two close. But maybe it was because you two haven’t talked properly? Maybe because he’s been ignoring your calls? Whatever the reason, you didn’t care. It made you feel better he was out talking to people, no matter that it was your older neighbor, he was interacting with people. It made you wonder if he had talk to Sam, but you doubted it.
“Long time no see, stranger. Glad to see your still alive.”
He looked at you with a blank expression, and you recognized that looked. He was looking for a tell, if you were angry at him or not. In all honesty, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry like he excepted you to be. You’re glad he was doing something, he didn’t have to be okay fully, just as long as he was going out.
“I’m not angry, Bucky.” You said flatly, as his eyes met yours. You could tell that he relaxed, physically. “I mean, concerned, sure. Scared you had locked yourself in your apartment, definitely. But not mad. Just... wished you would have called. Sent a text to let me know you were okay... Anything, really.”
He sighs, “I know... I should have done something- said something. I just have a lot going on.”
“Everyone does. Half of the population got turned into dust, we’ve lost a lot of friends. It’s just... we’ve gotta stay together, you know? We can’t rely on Steve anymore... And the more we’re by ourselves, the more we’re just creating terrible coping mechanisms, ya know?”
He seems to be taking in your words and you just smile at him softly. “Just think about it, okay?”
You begin walking down the hall before you turn towards him again, “Oi! And Barnes?”
He looks up at you, “Yeah?”
“If I don’t hear from you soon, just know I will hunt you down and beat your ass! No more of this distancing, stranger shit. I know how to find you now. And you know where I live!”
You smirk as you turn around to finally go on that walk, but little did you know that Bucky had a little smirk of his own as he took in your words.
“No more distancing, no more acting like a stranger... I have to start nurturing my friendships...”
#bucky barnes#sam wilson#tfatws#the falcon and the winter soilder#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#mcu fanfiction#mcu#mcu fluff#mcu angst#mentions of infinity war#mentions of endgame#tfatws spoilers#marvel
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Explosion
Hey everyone, here's a new Jolex fix-it fic. Hope you like it. Enjoy!
Thanks again @angry-slytherin for beta reading!
-
It's been two months now since Alex left. Since he sent this stupid letter with signed divorce papers and said goodbye. Two months that felt like years- but also just like days. Jo tried everything to not think about him too much and to miss him too much that she eventually breaks down; so she buried herself in work. God she misses him every day. And knowing that she can't just call him or talk to him anytime she wants to, was the worse. Especially now that she really had something to call him for- something big- well still very little but soon really big- and she hates everything about this situation right now.
So like every other day she distracts herself with work. They just got a call that there have been several explosions at Pac-North and that the injured will come to Grey Sloan. So everyone is ready in the ER. Jo too, even though her head is full of thoughts and worries, she's in the ambulance bay waiting for the incoming ambulance.
"Wilson, are you ok?" Doctor Bailey asks as she walks out in the ambulance bay, putting gloves on.
"Yeah. I'm fine," Jo answers shortly, throwing a fake smile at the chief while she tries to silence her thoughts and the awful feeling in her guts that something is really wrong.
- at Pac-North -
"ANYONE STILL IN HERE? SEATTLE FIRE DEPARTMENT. HELLO?"
After several explosions almost every Station got called to Pac-North Hospital. Station 19 too and right now they're looking for still missing or stuck people. Chief Bishop devided them up in teams, so right now Warren, Gibson and Miller are searching the surgical floor for missing people. There's dust everywhere, collapsed ceilings and a lot of destruction. Those bombs did a lot of damage.
"HERE! I'M IN HERE! HELLO? HELP!" The voice is coming from the end of the hall.
"WE'RE HERE. SIR CAN YOU HEAR US?" Warren shouts once again, running towards an office at the end of the floor.
"YES! IN HERE. THE OFFICE ON THE RIGHT."
They finally get to the office. Starting to push ceiling elements and concrete aside, working their way through to the buried man.
"Thank God. Warren!" The man answeres as the firemen push a bookshelf aside and clear the view in the office.
"Alex?"
"Hi." Alex answers trying to move his head as much as he can, looking up to his former college.
"W- what?"
"Can I explain everything when I'm out here? I'm stuck here for probably two hours now, I lost a lot of blood and I can't feel my legs." Alex answers, trying to move, but the massive concrete piece on top of him makes it impossible.
"Yeah. Ok guys let's get this man out."
-
"Alright Karev, now that we got you out and we are on the way to Grey-Sloan you really have some explanation to do." Ben starts, as he sits beside Alex, who's strabbed on the gurney in the ambulance, on their way to the hospital.
"I know. But first I really need to call Jo. I'm going to lose consciousness and I really have to hear her voice." Alex says, looking at Ben as he's already getting his phone out, dialing Jo's number. It rings a few times then goes straight to voice mail.
"Try again, please. She's probably in surgery. I need to at least leave her a message if I don't make it." Alex begs Ben to dial her number again, which again goes to voice mail.
"Princess? It's me. Jo I'm fine. I was stuck under some ceiling pieces but Warren and his guys got me out. I lost a lot of blood and I can't feel my legs but we are on our way to Grey Sloan. Jo listen, if I'm not going to make it. Please promise me to keep living. It's ok to love again. It's ok to find someone new that makes you happy. Please promise me to get happy again. I love you so much, Jo. I love you and I love our little one. I will always have you in my heart. I will watch you two from above- If I don't make it, I need you to be strong, ok? Please be the strong woman, that I love so much, but also let your feelings free. I don't want you to fall into this dark hole again. You have a little tiny human that will save you. And please don't name him after me if it's a boy, Alexander is mouthful. But if it's a girl I really like Helen as the second name maybe? After my mom, I don't know just an idea. I'm going to lose consciousness any time soon so I needed you to know that I love you and our peanut so much. I love you Jo, forever. I promise, I will fight but until then- goodbye." And with this Alex loses consciousness.
- at Grey Sloan -
"What do we have?" Bailey shouts as the doors of the ambulance open and she sees her husband jumping out of it.
"It's Alex! It's Karev, Miranda! It's bad. You have to save him. Promise to try everything to save him, ok? He and Jo are expecting a baby." Ben tells his wife as he takes her aside, letting the others roll Alex inside of the hospital.
"Hunt! You take over!" She barks orders, than looks at her husband.
"What are you talking about? I thought he's in Kansas with Izzie Stevens and his kids? What is he doing here? And how- Wilson is pregnant?" She has a hard time connecting everything her husband just told her.
"I have no idea." He shrunks. "We found him in his office at Pac-North. He also called Jo and left her a voice massage before he lost consciousness. It really sounded like they are still together- I have no idea." He shrunks his shoulders again.
"Ok- ahm. Let's find Wilson. If she's really pregnant and about to hear that he's here, someone should be with her." Bailey says walking back in the hospital.
-
"Jo! I'm taking over. I need you to go with Ben." Bailey walks into OR 2, already scrubbed, putting gloves on.
"Ahm- I'm about to close if you wait five minutes-"
"No Wilson now! Out!" Bailey barks, pointing towards the scrub room where Ben is waiting.
Jo does as the chief wants. Ripping her gloves and gown off, she walks into the scrub room and unscrubbs.
After that Ben takes her to the attendings lounge, which is empty right now, so they sit down on the couch.
"Alex is here." Ben starts trying to get to the point immediately. "We found him buried under a ceiling piece in his office at Pac-North. He lost a lot of blood and couldn't feel his legs. Before he lost consciousness he asked me to call you and he left you a voicemail-"
Ben's not finished yet, as Jo jumps up and runs to the bathroom, emptying her stomach. He immediately gets after her and helps her sit down against the wall as she's finished.
"So it's true? Are you pregnant, Jo?" She nods slightly, as she buries her head in her hands, starting to cry. Ben puts an arm around her to comforts her.
"Come on let's go to the sofa again. It's more comfortable that the bathroom floor." Ben helps her up and leads her to the couch.
Still crying, she buries her head in Ben's chest, while he just holds her and stroking her back. A few minutes later she's asleep.
-
"Jo! Jo wake up!" Ben carefully tries to wake the sleeping woman on his lap. It's been almost five hours since she fell asleep. And he just got the call from his wife that Alex is out of surgery and he could take Jo to his room.
"Jo!" He carefully shakes her, which makes her stir as she slowly wakes up.
"Alex is out of surgery. Miranda just called and said that he's asking for you."
Without another word Jo's up and out of the room. Instead of taking the elevator she takes the steps to the ICU, followed by Ben.
Running as fast as she can, she slows down in front of Alex's room, looking through the glas door.
It's really him and he's awake. He's alive. Thank God.
She opens the door and walks to his bed, immediately crushing her lips on his. Holding his head between her hands, not letting go. Not even when they break the kiss, gasping for air. Jo's hands stroke his bruised face and soft hair as she puts her forhead against his. Taking in his scent for the first time in months.
"Never do this again to me. You hear me, jerk? Never! I'm done! I'm so done with his secret relationship shit and only calling you on burner phones. I need you here. With us, ok?" New tears stream down Jo's cheeks as she kisses Alex again, sitting down on his bed as they separate again.
"Hell yes, I'm done too." He answers, wrapping one arm around her as she lays down beside him, placing her head on his chest carefully not to hurt him. "It's my fault, Jo. Those explosions. They are my fault. I should have done like they told me and ended those research projects. But I didn't and now people are dead and I almost died too- and I can't do this to you." He says with a cracking voice, as he places his other hand on her still flat stomach.
"It's not, Alex. It's not your fault. Those research projects will help millions of people one day. And then you are a hero for not letting you be suppressed by those opponents. It was the right thing and I'm proud of you." Jo answeres, getting interrupt as Bailey, Ben and Meredith walk into the room and close the door behind them.
"As sorry as I am for interrupting this, I think we really deserve answers." Ben interrupts.
Jo sits up again, helping Alex to do so too, grapping his hand as he starts to talk.
"It started when I became chief at Pac-North. They have this research where they use embryonic stem cells, which has a lot of opponents that want it to stop. This group 'Anti-Choice' send threads; to the hospital, the doctors of the research, me. One night when we got home from work a few men waited in front of the loft. They had guns and threatened us. Thank God the cops drove by and the men left. They send death threats, as they started to threaten Jo too, I had to do something because around that time we found out that we are pregnant, so we faked our break up. I send those letters to all of you guys and Jo and I got divorced. I dissappeared and let them think that I left the city. It had to look real for them, to leave Jo and you guys in peace, because they threatened to kill everyone that is connected to me. They stopped going after me but they didn't stop going after the hospital. And well you know what they did today."
It's dead silent in the room. The three listeners just stare at the two in the hospital bed.
"What?" Meredith asks as she comes out of her stare. What the hell did her friend just tell them? "You faked everything? Leaving Jo and going to Kansas to Izzie and your kids?"
"Yeah. There are no corn kids in Kansas and I have no idea what Izzie is doing. I had to write something that was crazy enough for you guys to believe and not call me. So we came up with those letters and this whole Izzie story, which was actually my brilliant wife's idea." He sais proudly as he kisses her cheek.
"B- but you cried yourself to sleep on my couch and you slept on Link's couch for two weeks and you- what?" Mer's so confused right now.
"Well receiving death threats and being afraid that your husband and you get killed is enough for you to not want to sleep in a big empty loft alone. And a little fake cry and those crazy hormones made it pretty easy. Those few years of acting class I took in high school came in hand too." Jo shrunks, looking amused in three faces.
"So all of this was fake?" Ben asks again, still not getting what the hell just happened.
"Yes. Except from our divorce. Unfortunately that crap was real. But trust me as soon as those people are behind bars I will put a ring on this beautiful hand again." Alex promises, talking more to Jo than the rest of people in the room. "Looks like we are still pretty good in faking break ups." Alex jokes, as he mentions towards the three, that still look at them like they are crazy.
"Shut up and kiss me, jerk." Jo answers, crashing her lips onto his, ignoring the three other people in the room. She is way to happy that all of this crap is finally coming to an end and that they can go back to their normal life. And can finally get excited about the new life that will join them in a few months. Or more like two, but that's something she'll tell him when he's getting a little better.
#jolex#alex#alex karev#fanfic#fanfiction#grey's#grey's anatomy#grey's fic#Jo x alex#jo#jo wilson#jo karev#fan.4196
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England’s Dreaming: The Clash (Part 2)
Part 1
I’m going to be posting a little more regularly, I hope to have a Christmas fic up sometime in the near future. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs
Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket @no-stone-no-bone @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands @smokeandmirrorz @sodalitefully @roger-taylors-car @harley-m-rose @whisperess33 @shawolat @80snikki as always, if you wish to be tagged let me know
Warnings: near-fatal horniness and very deep disappointment. And no one likes doughy balls
“You're awful quiet,” Duff murmured.
It had been quite an interesting morning. Izzy had shown up fifteen minutes before his shift started, wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a patch with “Izzy” embroidered over his right pec and quietly asked if he could wear that on the job. White circles swam in front of your eyes until he cleared his throat and repeated the question.
“Sure, it’s fine,” you mumbled, then put your hand over your mouth to cover a moan as you watched him lift your cakes, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of his white stomach, contrasting vividly with his low-riding black jeans, then walk out the door.
“Relax, Y/N,” Duff said, grinning like a madman. “He'll treat your babies right. He’s got a gentle touch.”
Since drinking before 8 am was bad form, especially on the job, you opted to close yourself in the pantry, stuffing a dish towel in your mouth while you screamed.
Finally getting your heart rate down to normal, you began your day. Without Izzy’s presence, the shop seemed especially empty, and you used your time making icing and scones and mentally berating yourself.
If a man eyed a woman like that, you’d call him a pig. It’s rude to just openly stare at someone, even if they are so blatantly attractive.
You don’t have a chance with him anyway, with your preppy little sweaters and pearls. If he wasn’t your employee, he’d never even notice someone like you.
Oh yeah, did you forget that you’re his boss? And as professional as he seems, a workplace romance is not in the cards, even if Hell froze solid and he thought you were hot.
“Yoo hoo,” Duff said, waving a hand in front of your eyes. “He’ll be fine. I know the other guys left a lot to be desired, but Izzy takes his work seriously. The only reason I didn’t recommend him first is because he was already working at the flower shop.”
You looked up at him, then pursed your lips and nodded. Best to let him think it was worry and not terminal lust for your newest employee that was running on a continuous loop in your brain.
“And if I know Izz, and I like to think I do, he’ll throw himself into his work. He’s single, he’s got no constraints on his time, besides playing guitar and riding his bike. Which doesn’t run anyway.”
“He’s single?” you yelped, then the front door dinged open and the devil himself strode in the kitchen.
“Hey, I’m back,” he smiled. “Any more deliveries?”
“Well,” and your throat went dry, “you have to deliver a cake to the Martins’ birthday party at 1 o’clock. Nothing till then.”
“What can I do?”
“Uh, there’s dishes in the sink,” you peeped, pointing to them.
“Here, Izz, catch,” Duff said, and tossed him an apron. You were relieved it wasn’t your pink eyelet one, then Izzy shook it out and tied it on. “LOVE MY BUNS” was emblazoned on the front of it, and Duff threw you a wily grin.
Izzy squared his shoulders. “Y’all better love ‘em,” he deadpanned, snapping on a pair of yellow rubber gloves.
You tried not to stare at them, then concentrated on dropping food coloring in some batter. The tie dyed cupcakes you sold were selling out faster than you could make them, but Duff had an aversion to making them for some reason, so you had to create them. And what better way to keep your mind off Izzy’s spectacular buns?
That was easier said than done. You noticed Izzy’d finished his dishes, then felt him before you even looked up. He was peering into your mixing bowl, his nose nearly touching it. “What are you making?”
You jerked your head up, and his face wasn’t six inches away, his soft lips slightly parted. “These-these are tie dyed cupcakes.”
“Can I help you with them?”
“Uh, sure.” You squeezed the last of the food coloring in, then dropped the liners in the muffin pan, instructing him how to fill them three-quarters full, then he slid them in the oven.
“Thank you, Izzy. Um, do you want to help Duff make cookies?”
Duff jerked his head. “Can you get me the flour over there?”
Izzy grabbed it, and because he was wearing short black boots and not slip-resistant work shoes, slid on the slick floor, very nearly dropping it. He must’ve clenched the open bag in his hands, because a big poof of it exploded right in his face.
“Shit,” he gasped, blowing it out of his mouth.
Duff slapped the table, howling at him, and you were trying very hard not to laugh.
Izzy stuck his tongue out, coughing, and he looked so embarrassed you wanted to hug him. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be heading upstairs now. By the time I get cleaned up, it’ll be time to make my delivery.” He barked out a laugh. “I hope this doesn’t make paste when it hits water, or I’ll have dough balls. And nobody likes doughy balls.”
Duff had been grinning since Izzy went upstairs. “I think he likes it here.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he laughed. Izzy never laughs.” He crossed his arms over his black safety-pinned t-shirt. “I told you he’d be a good fit. Hey, can I take my lunch now? I feel the need for…..pizza.”
“Sure,” you said, and on went the pimp coat. Even though he worked in a bakery, Duff had an overwhelming love for the pizza shop next door, and you swore he was working on duplicating their dough on his early shifts, unseen by you.
It was heavenly pizza, and you regretted not asking him to bring you back a slice, then the door chimed open and a stunning brunette woman with huge dark eyes walked in.
“Hi,” she said in a sultry voice, “is Izzy here?”
You shook your head, taking in her heavy eye makeup and micro skirt. She was tiny, although she was wearing a sky-high pair of stilettos. “He’s-he’s out. I can tell him you stopped by.”
“Sure. I’m Barbie.” Her red lips turned up in a smirk. “Aren’t you just precious? I love your little rubber boots.”
“Th-thank you,” you said, hoping the floor would swallow you up. Of course, this was the kind of woman Izzy would pursue, someone sexy, not a Shy Di wannabe. What worked to catch the attention of a stodgy middle-aged prince was very unlikely to work on an edgy guy like Izzy. You knew that.
And standing in front of you was living proof.
“So, anyway, tell him I came by. And here,” she threw a denim jacket on a table, “he left this in my car. Bye, little rubber boots.”
#izzy stradlin x reader#izzy stradlin fanfiction#duff mckagan fanfic#guns n roses x reader#guns n roses fanfic
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Tell me a lie, I’ll believe it
CHAPTER 5
Jo was recovering well, all in all.
Her injuries were very bad, but she's making it anyway. As soon as she was better, she contacted a lawyer to speed up the divorce proceedings.
Alex never left her.
She knew things were getting better, but that day ... that day she had a bad feeling. That sense of unease that you know is a bad sign. Something was wrong.
He was thinking about how to get it out of his mind while he was next to Jo's hospital bed. He watched her sleep, he did it sometimes in the past, but since all this happened, he has never taken his eyes off her. She could have laughed and teased him later for this, telling him she was creepy, but for now, he didn't care.
He cared that she had been shot. And, despite her jokes, that thought wouldn't go away.
They had shot her.
She was almost dead. In her arms. Like Izzie.
She quickly shook her head, dismissing the thought of her. She's not Izzie, he thought.
He leaned back in his chair, sighing. But his eye fell on the room clock. It was late. Too late. Not in the hours, but in the fact that Jo had been sleeping for too long. He looked at the monitors, noting that her blood pressure was significantly lower than on other days. This was not good.
"Hey Alex, Jo's test results have arrived ..." Bailey informs him. "Is ..." she nods. "Looks like she got an infection. She'll be fine, but we have to get her on medication right away, okay?" he nods, running a hand over his forehead. Bailey turns, heading for Meredith, Meggie, and the interns who have arrived at some point. "From now on, no one enters that room without precautions, do you all understand?" he says in her typical threatening tone. The interns nod in fear, both from Bailey and Alex's icy gaze. He's refraining from threatening them if anyone has gone wrong with Jo. He wanted to do it, but it wasn't the right time. Jo needed him.
Alex throws some sanitizer on his hands, before putting on gloves and putting on a mask. He fastens his shirt before entering her room. Sighing heavily, he approaches her. With one hand he takes hers, and with the other he caresses her cheek. "Alex ...?" she breathes. "Yes Jo, it's me, I'm here ..." he whispers softly, before her eyes slowly open. She frowns, noticing his clothing. And feeling completely exhausted. "What ... happened ...?" she says in a faint voice as a tear runs down her cheek, noticing Alex's defeated gaze. He runs his thumb under her eye, drying her, and running his fingers gently through her hair. "Shh ... everything will be fine ... you contracted an infection, but you will be fine, do you understand ...? You will be fine." she said in a firm tone, as firm as possible. She barely nods, drained of all her strength, before letting her eyes close again, letting out a choked breath.
Alex continued to stroke her face, frowning at her.
She was fine. Before, two weeks ago, she was fine.
He was fine when he decided to leave the loft, leaving her alone. And then, suddenly, she wasn't.
She promised her that everything would be fine, that she would be fine. And she must be fine. She's not like Izzie, she'll be fine.
He presses her lips against her forehead, through her mask. "I love you Jo" she whispers before running out of the room, violently tearing the scrub, mask and gloves off him.
He goes into that corridor where he and the others always went as interns. Where he used to go to clear his head. Where she took Jo to spend time with her.
He took a small packet of gauze from a shelf before forcibly tossing it across the room, then leaning against the wall and collapsing to the floor, letting all the accumulated emotions flow out.
He covered his face with his hands, not bothering to stifle the sobs that came out of him.
Suddenly it was all too much.
The only person who really cared about him, who loved him, was dying. She was hospitalized in a damn hospital bed while she was in pain, and he couldn't do anything. He couldn't take her pain away. He felt useless.
If she died, he could never forgive himself.
Because she was Jo.
That girl who lived in a car.
The one who threw a vase at a guy when they stole a hotel room at Bailey's wedding.
The one who bought him that sofa.
The one she taught him to love.
And he had hurt her like she didn't deserve.
Besides, he couldn't do anything more to fix things.
Because before she was fine, and now ... not anymore.
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Coming Home
Summary: Being a hero was awesome. Henry would know. Every kid's dream, right?
At some point it had been Henry's. And between the flashy costumes, the feeling of doing something good, and just the hero life in general was enough to make him gloss over the never-ending bruises and occasional nightmares he still got after all these years.
Being a hero was awesome...until it really wasn't. Until nights like these.
Word Count: 2,880
Fandom: Zenyverse
Warnings: Minor character death, mild mentions of blood. If there are any other warnings someone would like me to put please feel free to tell me!
A/N: I wrote this mostly just for myself and @zackmartin (I'm just a dumbass who forgot about it lmfao) but I'm just gonna put this here. I'd like to point out that I've never watched on ep of Suite Life so I have no idea if Zack is ooc or not ehfhfhd. I'm also gonna reread this and edit it later. Henry does not have a good time basically, but the ending is happy.
Being a hero was awesome. Henry would know. Every kid's dream, right?
At some point it had been Henry's. And between the flashy costumes, the feeling of doing something good, and just the hero life in general was enough to make him gloss over the never-ending bruises and occasional nightmares he still got after all these years.
Being a hero was awesome...until it really wasn't. Until nights like these.
Living nightmares. The worst ones, because he couldn't wake up with the knowledge that it wasn't real.
It was only a small fire. It shouldn't have been a problem. He helped the fire fighters get the small family out of the building, was about to call it a night when he heard the worst thing a hero - a parent - could ever hear.
"My baby's still in there!"
Henry didn't hesitate or wait for any more words before he was bolting to the only window he could manage to enter into and threw himself in, landing in a heap, surrounded by a ring of fire and smoke.
He hated burning buildings, but he didn't waste any time searching the rooms, keeping his body as low as he could. The smoke tried to claw his way down his throat and his eyes stung viciously but he hurried on, knowing that the more time he was in here, the less time there was to get out.
He was three rooms in when he heard the most hair-raising screech he'd ever heard pierce his ears. Upstairs, from the sound of it. Henry took off running to the stairs, bounding up them as carefully as he could in his haste, the wood groaning around his weight as he weaved his way through the endless debris as the flames burned his skin raw.
A piece of metal, from what looked like it was once a part of the railing, caught his leg halfway up. Henry cursed, feeling his hands to the new wound. His hands came away covered in fresh red, but he bit his lip as he attempted to climb the rest of the way up. His head was getting too wozy, and he had to swallow multiple coughs as he made it to the second floor. There wasn't any time to focus on his leg; not that it was his biggest concern at the moment anyways.
The door to the room he assumed the scream was from was on fire. Henry swore that the soles of his boots started to melt when he kicked it in, embers clouding his vision as it collapsed. At this point the pain in his leg and the smoke was enough to bring tears in his eyes, only from them to be burned away from the heat as he whipped his head around desperately for a sign, any sign.
On the bed was a small lump, and Henry rushed over as soon as he spotted it, praying that it was the child. With shaking hands he shook it, relief washing over him when a head of soft, curly hair moved to his position. The child looked up with him with their eyes half closed, and they gave a loud, wheezing cough. Henry swallowed harshly, grabbing a nearby blanket - one not covered by ash or currently on fire and tucked them into it - cradling them to his chest.
"You'll be ok," he tried to assure, hoping they couldn't hear his voice crack. The child coughed weakly in his arms.
Henry smiled softly at them before placing the blanket over the child's face, loosely enough so they could still breathe but still a cover to attempt to protect them from the flames. With a deep breath and roll of his shoulders he took off towards the stairs, gasping in as much stale air as he could while his chest heaved with the need to cough, heading towards the window he entered from.
The child was still coughing slightly when Henry jumped out the window, glass shattering from where his foot hit some of the remains, landing harshly on his shoulder as he tried to roll. The cool air was an instant relief, and after sitting in the grass, his body still aching and burning while he gulped down clean air like he was drowning, he finally looked down to the bundle in his arms.
"Hey, you're ok now-" he rasped as he moved the blanket from the child's face.
It was alright. They had made it-
His breath caught in his throat, grip tightening around the child as he looked in horror.
No...I was- they were fine- too late?
Henry wondered distantly if the child in his arms had dreamed of being a hero one day.
They would never get that chance.
He felt....numb. Looking down he could barely feel anything. It was like his body wasn't his own and he was watching from a distorted camera.
Then he heard the screams.
It was the wails of someone who had lost the brightest thing in their lives.
"My baby!" A woman cried, the man beside her covering his mouth with wide, horrified eyes.
They were the screams of parents, and it was exactly what shook Henry out of his shock.
He stood up on shaky legs, stumbling as he tried to meet them halfway. He tried to blink away the burning in his eyes as he handed them their child.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he gasped, but it only made them cry harder.
"No, no," the father kept repeating, hugging the child to his chest as the mother clung desperately to his shirt. "No, no, please."
It wasn't the fire itself, the emergency responders told him afterwards. Smoke inhalation. He had done the best that he could do.
His best wasn't good enough.
Henry wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and cover his ears, but he managed to limp away, his leg throbbing as he let his feet carry him on auto pilot. Back home, where his husband and kids were waiting for him.
The trek back was hazy, barely a memory in his mind as he popped a gum into his mouth and changed back into his clean clothes as he quietly slipped through the door. He heard footsteps from the kitchen - Zack's, coming closer - and the exhaustion slammed into him like a truck at the same time his breathing picked up. He just wanted to wrap his arms around his family, take a shower, and maybe sleep for a week.
But every time he closed his eyes he could see the blood covering his gloves, felt the heat lick at his face, could still hear the poor child's scream-
Henry couldn't hold back the sob that finally escaped his throat, tangling his trembling fingers into his hair as he cried.
"Henry?"
Even after all these years, he couldn't save everyone. After all these years, it still never got any easier.
"Hen?"
What if that child had been Izzy? Or Felix? What if one day Henry couldn't protect them? What if Henry woke up one day and found Zack-
He scrubbed his face with his shaky hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he desperately wished for this nightmare to end.
"Hey- Henry, hey, look at me." Zack was in front of him, reaching out towards him cautiously.
Henry shook his head, tears trickling down his cheeks, "I can't- Zack, I can't."
Zack pursued his lips together, an uneasy look flashing across his face. A wave of guilt washed over him, and he stuttered out broken apologies between his gasps for air.
"It's ok, Hen, you're ok," Zack tried to sooth, but his skin felt like it was burned when he tried to touch his arm. Henry jerked back, shaking his head and trying to explain why but no words came out and Zack looked so scared and hurt because of him, and the child was still screaming screaming screaming-
"Dad?" Izzy's voice called behind him. Henry inhaled sharply, wiping his face and turning to see both Izzy and Felix in their pajamas at the bottom of the stairs. He swallowed roughly as he made his way over to her, watching as her reaction shifted from confusion to alarm. Felix stood behind her, eyes flickering between him and Zack.
He kneeled in front of them, wincing as his knees protested painfully. Felix made a small noise, and Henry gently pulled them into a hug. Two pairs of arms immediately returned it, and Henry squeezed them tightly to his chest, wanting nothing more than to be able to keep them there forever.
They pulled back slightly after a moment, but Henry kept his arms around them for a little while longer, opening his mouth to say something only to close it again. There were too many words he wanted to say but each one died on his lips before they could even be born.
"Dad?" Izzy tried again, voice shaky. It finally snapped something in him, and he gave her the best smile he could muster, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'd do anything for you two. I'll always try my best to protect you two, you know that, right?"
They both nodded. Felix's eyes were wide with unshed tears, and Izzy was worrying her lip between her front teeth. Henry hated that he caused this, but the child was still there, in his mind, and their parents' cries still ringing through his ears, and he was choking back tears as he pressed a kiss to each of the foreheads. He convinced himself to stand up, letting go of his kids as he turned and headed towards the door.
"Hen?"
Zack's voice rang out, and Henry paused, the invisible hand around his throat getting tighter.
"Come back to me," Zack whispered to him, barely audible from across the room, and Henry turned to give him a small smile.
"Always."
Then he was gone, with nothing but the sweater he was wearing earlier and an echo of the child's screams following his footsteps like a lost puppy.
~~~
It was three in the morning when he finally caved from roaming the streets to booking a hotel room for the night.
His phone hadn't stopped buzzing in his pocket all night until it finally died and remained silent. He would've charged it, but he didn't think of bringing a charger, and he didn't want to trek back out to buy one.
Luckily, there was an old wired phone on the dresser next to the bed. Henry took off his shoes and buried himself under the bed covers, flailing around for the phone without looking.
He didn't know what Charlotte and Jasper were up to, so he called the next person that came to his mind. It rang once, twice, then finally there was a clicking noise halfway through the third.
"Hello?" Came Ray's groggy voice, and Henry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Ray." He whispered, voice raw. "Ray, I'm sorry, I just…"
Ray sighed as a shuffling noise echoed in the background. "Rough night?"
"Yeah."
Ray hummed, "I'll leave you on the phone. Get some sleep, I'll be here if you need me."
"Thanks," he mumbled, listening to the hum on the other side. It was somewhat comforting to listen to the various noises from Ray's side of the phone as he closed his eyes, allowing it to drown out everything else. It wasn't the first time a sudden 3am call to Ray had been made on a rough night, but it had been a while.
It was soothing in a way he couldn't explain, having someone who understood on a deeper level what he was going through. The lack of warmth next to him was unusual, but Henry was still able to slowly drift into a light slumber.
And it was the dial tone that he woke up to, the early rays of light peeking through the blinds. Henry groaned, the empty spot next to him snapping him back to reality far too quickly for his liking. It left his stomach tied in vicious knots.
Hanging the phone back up, fairly sure that Ray had probably sent him a text he would be unable to see at the moment, Henry sat up in the bed, allowing the rough covers to slide off his body as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
He didn’t have much of a plan. It was Friday, so it was likely Izzy and Felix would already be at school, unless Zack didn’t send them today. And he really wanted to go home, but it still felt too overwhelming for now.
Breakfast was off the table, too. He didn't think he'd be able to hold anything down at the moment.
So he kind of just...stopped. Only got out of bed when he needed to use the bathroom and had the TV running as background noise as he tried to process what happened. Around noon he made a quick stop to the convenience store next to the hotel to pick up a charger and sandwich.
He was right. Ray had texted him this morning, saying he had to go. Charlotte and Jasper had texted their group chat earlier last night, Zack had also texted him, saying to come home when he was ready, and he had at least two dozen messages from Piper. The thought made him chuckle slightly. It really was hard to tell who was the oldest between them sometimes, even now. He sent quick texts to let them know he was ok before turning his phone off, rubbing his hands down his face as he sighed, the sandwich on the bedside dresser untouched.
He knew what he was doing wasn't healthy. Not in the slightest. He was running, trying to avoid what had happened even when the memory of last night still was burned into his head. He knew what had happened, but he knew that in order to fully process and come to terms with it he needed to talk about it.
Knowing this, Henry waited until the thought of going home didn't make his stomach twist, later into the evening, then quickly checked out of his room and started heading back. The memories of the night before still put too much weight on his shoulders, but it lessened enough for him to be calm enough to talk about it.
The child still followed him home, but it was quite over the loudest thought in his head at the moment - his family.
~~~
When Henry finally made it to their house, the kitchen light was the only one on. He shuffled around a bit in the driveway, resolving that the sooner he got this over with, the better. He needed to apologize for running out and scaring the three of them like that, and there was no way he could do that if he didn't get inside. Clearing his throat he slipped through the door as quietly as possible, kicking his shoes off as he listened for any changes or movement. Hearing none he continued in, stopping before he entered the kitchen. Zack was looking out the window from across the room, his back towards him.
Henry cracked a slight smile. Even when he couldn't see his face he knew he was the prettiest person he'd ever seen.
"Hey." He greeted quietly, wincing at how rough his voice still sounded.
Zack jumped, spinning around with a relieved smile on his face, "Hey yourself."
Henry ducked his head slightly, awkwardly standing in the doorway. Zack was watching him carefully, but when he opened his arms Henry wasted no time in bounding over, the warmth from the embrace a warm relief from the cold haunting of the last day.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really. Just...A really bad night. I'm sorry."
Zack hummed, moving from his back to comb his hands through Henry's messy hair. "Don't be. I saw some of what happened. On the news."
"...Oh."
"Yeah. I'm sorry you…" Zack cut himself off, shaking his head with a sigh. Henry's heart tightened.
"It's ok."
"It's not. What you have to deal with, what you see…"
"I manage."
"Do you?"
Henry could only shrug, burying his face in Zack's shoulder. He breathed in deeply, forcing his shoulders to relax as Zack's grip on him tightened.
"Izzy and Felix are at Piper's." Zack whispered. "She offered to watch them for the night."
"Does she know?"
"Yeah. She wanted to know where you were at, so I had to tell her."
"Guess that explains why my phone was blowing up last night," he chuckled quietly, bringing his hands up to Zack's shoulders.
"It's only because she worries."
"I know."
They both lulled into a comfortable silence. He didn't know who started it, but Henry realized that at some point they had both started swaying to the soft music that came from the old, beaten radio on the counter.
"I'm glad you're ok," Zack breathed, pressing a small kiss to his nose. Henry sighed as he knocked their foreheads together. "I'm glad you came back."
He wasn't fully ok yet. But he would be.
"I promised I'd come back to you. Always."
#this is admittedly not the greatest thing i wrote but i could not stop thinking about it dhdhdhd#hope you like it nikki <3#usernicolette#zenryverse#zenry#zack martin#henry hart#izzy martin#felix martin#DoD#my fics#my writing
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Pork
Bucky Barnes Gen, 1777 words, rated T for Hydra shit
Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame
Coming out of that disastrous therapy session, Bucky comes home and tries to deal with some of his feelings.
TW: mention of torture and death, of family member deaths.
Read on AO3
Part 6 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series
------------
The door slams behind him as Bucky storms into his house.
He has lunch plans but Raynor’s words and eyes and behavior stick to the corners of his mind, sickening like too-sweet candy he shouldn’t have eaten. Except he didn’t even want to eat it. It was shoved into his forced-open mouth. He tried to spit it out but he couldn’t. It was too late. It was already clinging to his teeth.
He rips the gloves off of his hands, then the jacket off of his back. There is light in the room, the light from the outside streaming in through the one window he keeps unshaded. There is the tv, playing an endless loop of soccer. The green and the gold bounce against the glass protecting the Smithsonian postcard he put up on the wall.
Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, laughing at some stupid joke he can’t remember. He’s looking at Steve like he hung the moon, and in that moment, he knows that’s exactly how he felt about this sun-kissed Brooklyn kid.
It hurts to think about this picture. To see himself smiling like this. To know he was already Hydra’s, even if he thought himself free. To know he’d probably already lost Steve.
He forces himself to take a deep breath. The expanding of his lungs is uncomfortable.
Why is this upsetting to you?
Because I don’t get to have secrets. I don’t get to be a person. My mind is yours to tear apart and put back together and you’re just Hydra wrapped in star-spangled banner paper.
This isn’t the first time he’s come back from seeing Raynor feeling like there’s a vice-like grip on his heart.
She doesn’t care enough to do her job properly. She doesn’t care enough to do the paperwork to get him someone who will be good for him. So he’s stuck, because she can’t be fucked to make life less terrible for him.
No one fucking cares enough. Not Raynor, not the people at the VA, not his superiors in the taskforce. And not Steve.
The Smithsonian postcard is an insult. 4 dollars and change for a snapshot of a memory. 4 dollars and change and you can bring home Captain America and Bucky Barnes, and look at the card and think you know what it was like to be either of them in 1944. Best friends since childhood. Inseparable. Bullshit.
Bucky wants to tear that card from the wall and throw it away with all of his strength. But he doesn’t. He knows he’ll regret it. He knows he’ll hate himself for it. He’s supposed to keep loving Steve even if he’s gone. He’s supposed to think of him as this… beautiful, glorious, perfect man. He’s supposed to be okay with this.
He told him he’d be. He told him he would be fine, that he could go, that he’d manage.
And now it’s been a little over 2 months and he’s not fine. He’s not managing. And he wants to slap himself. He should have told Steve to stay. He should have told him he needed him. But he hadn’t. Because Steve wanted to leave, and Bucky’s always been the one to tell Steve to pursue what he wanted. Because he made sure he could afford those art classes by taking that second job on the docks, because he kissed his cheek and told him he was going to be famous one day. That he was going to be respected, too.
Bucky’s never been an obstacle in Steve’s way. And he wasn’t going to stop now. So he told him to go.
And now he wants to scream for him to come home to him. To come get him. To come rescue him from this horrible fucking life he’s made for himself.
He knows Steve won’t come though. He didn’t come in ‘45, when the Soviets got their hands on him. He didn’t come in ‘50, when Zola bought him from the Soviets, in the same breath he bought a bomb. He didn’t come in the following years, and eventually, Bucky forgot the name Steve.
Some nights, he hears his own begging. Steve, Ma, HaShem. No one came. No one saved him. And no one is going to save him now, in 2024. He’s going to drown in the sorrow of too many lifetimes.
What else can he do? Once his brain stops coming up with names to add to the list, what will he do?
He has no idea. And he doesn’t want to think of it. Once he’s not useful anymore, what will he be? The list is his expiration date. Sometimes, he hopes the names keep coming.
There is pent-up energy in his bones, but he doesn’t know how to get it out. It’s broad daylight, and he can’t go on a proper run right now. People will see. He has no desire to go into the military base’s gyms right now. He can probably go into the guest room and pull out the punching bag and rip it to shreds.
He doesn’t have a lot of time. Lunch is coming up. It’s Wednesday. One of the names on his list is waiting. He needs to do that. To fulfill the promises he made. It’s his purpose now.
He feels like an open wound, standing in his living room, bleeding out everywhere, burning and stinging with every miniscule spasm of muscle, every brush of air.
When he shows up at Izzy’s, Yori will ask what’s wrong with him, and he’ll lie. He can’t tell him. Yori thinks he’s just a sweet, if a little lost, guy. Moved away for a while, only recently came back to Brooklyn. Ex-military. All things that aren’t exactly lies. They aren’t exactly truths either.
Izzy’s a Japanese restaurant. The building it’s in is old, the kind of old that Bucky actually remembers. In his day, it was a butcher shop, a non-kosher one. Before his mother died, Steve would sometimes be sent to get some leftover pork trimmings from there, to thicken the soup. It smelled bad at the end of the day.
Now it’s a clean and chic place, all painted in dark colors. It’s busy at lunch time, every day. It’s also busy at dinner time, when he walks by on his way back to work. Sometimes, he grabs something to go.
He’s starting to know his way around a sushi restaurant’s menu. He’s not an enormous fan of the rice, so he usually orders those thin slices of fish, the sashimi. Izzy’s has this plate, red tuna and salmon with a side of seaweed salad. The red tuna has a meaty quality that surprised him at first, but he really enjoys it. It tastes thick and fat on his tongue. He surprises himself with the diverse arrays of foods his palate accommodates.
Thinking about the food, about Yori, and Leah, the lady that serves them at Izzy’s somewhat feels good. They’re relatively untouched by the horrors of his mind. At least for now. One day, he’ll have to tell Yori he killed his son.
For now, he wants to be a little selfish. Yori’s old. The kind of old that makes Bucky feel comfortable.
He still has to watch himself, make sure he doesn’t talk too much like an old man, that he doesn’t tell stories he shouldn’t know about. When he says things about the old Brooklyn he grew up in, he says they’re his grandfather’s stories. If no one looks too close at the details, it works.
It doesn’t help the weird distant feeling he has sometimes when it comes to his life. It pulls him away from it. As if it wasn’t really his life.
He guesses he has little in common with the James Barnes of the 1930s. A name. Some memories. Nothing else. His family’s gone, his neighborhood’s gone, his friend is gone, his shul is gone.
He eats sashimi now, with that spicy green paste - wasabi. He watches soccer on a tv in color that he can afford. He has a computer - that he doesn’t use - and a mobile phone. He’s a soldier. He never went to college.
He was smart, back when he was James Barnes. He could have gotten into university despite the quotas. That was what his father used to say. And then he died.
He departed years before Bucky lost his mind to Hydra. He was 16 the first time he led the family in Shabbos prayers. He remembers the quivering of his voice as he stood at the head of the table, in his father’s place, and recited kiddush. He remembers the tears in his ma’s eyes.
He remembers his father teaching him how to shave with steady hands. He asked him to shave him when Bucky was barely a man, before even his bar mitzvah. His hands still remember how to use both the safety razors and the straight-edged ones. Even with decades of Hydra, he remembers it. He’s thankful for that, because the clippers and electric razors people use now are out of the question for him.
The clock ticks and tocks, minutes melting away as he stands there lost in feelings and memories.
Suddenly, he’s late to meet with Yori and he almost runs to the restaurant where the old man sits at the counter like he always does, saving a seat for him.
“You’re late,” Yori points out and Bucky finds himself sheepish.
“Didn’t see the time.”
He takes his seat by Yori’s side. They talk about sports and the papers, and the obituaries. Bucky finds himself looking through the names and wondering if he knew any of them, if they were the loud kids from down the streets when he was a teenager.
Leah comes over with a smile. Today’s special is subuta.
“What’s that?” Bucky asks in a hushed voice to Yori as Leah walks away with a smile and lets them think through their options.
Yori leans back towards him. “Sweet and sour pork. Very tasty. Izzy’s the best in town. You should try it.”
“Ah,” Bucky sighs softly. “I don’t eat pork.”
It’s a lie. He’s eaten a lot of pork in his life. Pierce loved his bacon. But it’s also true. He hasn’t touched pork since he’s left Hydra. The smell of it cooking makes him think of Pierce. And there’s something inside of him that avoids it, even if he doesn’t keep kosher in any other way. He hasn’t ever announced it that way.
Yori nods quietly, not realizing what those four words mean.
There’s no way he can know. It’s Bucky’s secret.
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I Was Made For Loving You
Soulmate AU series where Jo and Alex discover that they are soulmates under different circumstances
Feel free to leave your ideas for different ways of discovering your soulmate!!
Part 1 - Where You Have Matching Soul Marks
His mark was tingling. It had been tingling for the past two weeks. It was strange. Never had his mark tingled before. Not as a kid, not when he was with Rebecca, not when he married Izzie (who wasn’t his soulmate but Denny died and Izzie no longer had a soulmate so he thought it could work). It didn’t tingle with Lexie or Lucy or any of the various women he had slept with in the past month. But occasionally, while he was in the hospital, his mark would tingle.
His soulmate was nearby. He knew that much. She was around here somewhere, just out of reach. He never thought he would meet his soulmate. The phenomenon was so rare. The only people he had know that found their soulmates were Meredith and Derek, and Mark and Lexie. Everyone had a soul mark, but not everyone would get the chance to meet the person with the matching mark. Mainly because, people are impatient. Even though everyone had someone designed specifically for them, people were too impatient to wait for that person. Everyone wanted the love and the fun quickly. No one wanted to do the work. So, eventually many people ended up in committed relationships with life mates.
Having a life mate wasn’t a bad thing. There were plenty of people that were perfectly happy living their lives with a life mate. It wasn’t uncommon. In fact, nowadays, you were more likely to find that people were settling down with a life mate than a soulmate. That’s why he married Izzie. Her soulmate died and he hadn’t found his, so he thought he could make them both happy. He thought he could be a good, decent, honorable man. But that went out the window when she left him.
Since then, he hadn’t really gotten into anything serious. He gave up searching for someone that might make him feel like a little bit less of a screw up. Sure he had a girlfriend or two, but he made it pretty clear that it wasn’t anything serious. He filled his loneliness with a string of one night stands and hookups. He never slept with a girl more than twice. They’re less likely to get attached that way. It worked for a while. He almost forgot about the constellation on the inside of his left wrist.
His mark was itching and burning like crazy. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that the mark was on his wrist and he was a surgeon who needed his hands to work. Resisting the urge to rub it, he hurried over to the pit where he was paged for an incoming trauma. He reached for a trauma gown and bumped into an intern he had never seen before. He pulled on the gown and gloves quickly without sparing a glance to the woman, “Do you mind?”
“Sorry.”
The sound of her voice made his heart speed up a little and his mark tingled. He ignores it and kept walking to the ambulance bay, noticing that she was trailing him, “Why are you following me?
“I’m your intern for the day.”
“Hello intern. You have a name?”
“Jo Wilson.”
“Nice. I like chicks with boys names.” He glances at her and feels his heart pick up bit, but ignores it. Again. She was pretty. Beautiful even. He was sure if he looked into her eyes they’d be beautiful too.
“Karev.” Callie interjects, pulling him out of his thought.”
“What? I do it’s hot,” He smirks and finally locks eyes with the beautiful young woman in front of him and it’s almost as if time stops. He feels it immediately. The burning sensation on his wrist as he clutches it tightly and gasps. He hears the intern exhale sharply and watches as she holds onto her side as if she just got the wind knocked out of her.
They stare at each other for a moment with equally terrified expressions when they hear a voice in the background, “Holy shit.” They break eye contact and look for the source of the voice, Callie Torres, who’s eyes are wide in shock. “You guys are... woah.”
He takes a deep breath and looks back at his intern. Jo. Her name is Jo Wilson. She looks like she might run. You and me both. He was too damaged for her. She was a nice, normal looking girl and all he had ever known was crazy. He couldn’t possibly be her soulmate. He was an asshole. He was the last person who deserved to meet their soulmate.
The sound of the ambulance arriving was enough to snap him out of his thoughts. Soon, he was so preoccupied with the sixteen year old girl’s injuries that he had slipped into attending mode and focused on controlling what he could. He sent her to work on his pre and post ops and watched her leave as the elevator doors closed.
“You can’t be serious,” Callie shakes her head. “You could’ve let her scrub in. You two could’ve talked and gotten to know each other in surgery. It would’ve been like the least stressful first date ever. She’s your soulmate for crying out loud.”
“I can’t right now Torres. I just can’t,” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I know what they say about me. I know I’m an asshole and a manwhore. I’m so screwed up. She doesn’t need that crap. She’s a bright, wide-eyed intern that’s got a lot going for her and she doesn’t need me and my baggage messing it all up.”
“Alex,” Callie smiles softly and sighs. “Do you know how rare it is to find your soulmate? The one person who will put up with your crap no matter what? The person who was quite literally made for you? Now I don’t know much about this Wilson girl but if she’s your soulmate, I’m pretty sure she’s tough enough to handle it.”
The elevator doors opened to the OR floor and they hurried to scrub in. As he was prepping for surgery, he tested the waters to see if what he had heard was true. They say you could sense your soulmate. If you try hard enough you could feel them and sense what they were feeling. So he closes his eyes and reaches out in hopes of maybe finding the connection.
Within seconds, he feels confusion. Frustration. Nervousness. Excitement. Fear. Uncertainty. He chuckles to himself, yeah me too princess. He pushes all thoughts aside and begins to focus on the task at hand. About halfway through the surgery, he can feel her presence in the gallery. Sure enough, he looks up and sees her observing the procedure.
“You could tell her to come down here you know.”
He ignores Callie’s comment and proceeds to tell her to go check on his patients again. He knows he’s being an ass, but maybe if he’s enough of a jerk she’ll forget about him and just move on to someone better. He knows it’s futile though. Once you meet your soulmate, you can try as hard as you can to distance yourself and be with other people but it’ll never be right. Because your soul has already found its missing piece. Take Meredith and Derek for example. Derek was married and tried to stay with Addison, while Meredith tried to date and forget about Derek. In the end, the connection was too strong. The bond was too deep. The pain was too much to stay apart. Mark and Lexie were a mess but when she died, she died loving him. A part of Mark died with her and eventually he succumbed to his injuries as a result of heartbreak.
Hours later when the surgery is over and it’s time to check on his patient, he knows he’s gonna have to see her again. He knows the minute they are in the same room together his heart will race. He knows the minute they lock eyes he will feel as if all the oxygen in the world won’t be enough to restore his lungs after he forgets to breathe at the sight of her. But most of all, he knows he will feel like the worst person in the world for treating her badly.
He sees her talking to Torres outside the girl’s room. He breathes in deeply and walks over to them.
“Oh Alex! Your... intern brought you coffee.” Torres smiles and looks pointedly at the young woman in front of her.
“Cool.”
They look at each other awkwardly for a moment when Callie clears her throat, “Wilson here was wondering if she could scrub in on your next surgery.”
The young woman in question looks over to Callie and glares, shaking her head. “No... that’s not... I mean, I would love to scrub in on your next surgery but um, you don’t have to...”
“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” Alex says.
The intern looks over at Torres again and who nods at her encouragingly, “Yeah... we can talk.”
He turns around and has her follow him down to the tunnels, where hopefully he could find some privacy for the two of them to have a conversation. It felt right to bring her down here. So many significant things happened down there in the tunnels, so it seemed appropriate to have his first real talk with his soulmate in the same place. He stops and sits in a gurney. Just as he’s about to open his mouth and say something, he’s interrupted.
“Look. You obviously hate me. I don’t know what I did to piss you off or what you might have heard about me that made you decide that I wasn’t worth your time but I’m not a bad person. I am a kind person. I am smart. I was valedictorian of my high school, I went to Princeton, and Harvard Med. So what am I missing? What am I not getting? Please tell me so I can move on.”
“I don’t hate you. You haven’t pissed me off,” he insists
“I haven’t?”
“No. I just... it may be possible that I’ve... dated other interns...”
“You mean Heather.”
“Yeah...”
“And Leah.”
“Uh huh,” he nods sheepishly.
“And Susan, Stacy, Tina, Irene. Don’t worry about lying to me or trying to spare my feelings. There isn’t much that I haven’t heard about you already since you’ve screwed every one of my friends. But I am willing to put all of that aside if you are.”
He stares dumbly at her for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Okay.”
He wasn’t expecting her to know how big of a douche he was. He realized that he made a few mistakes but he hadn’t noticed that his reputation was scarily similar to what it was his intern year. If that wasn’t a slap in the face, then he didn’t know what was. “How about we start over. I’m Alex.”
One side of her mouth twitches as she reaches out to meet his outstretched hand, “I’m Jo.”
“Well, Jo, I have a Nissen tomorrow morning at 8am if you’d like to join me.”
Her smile grows wider and she nods enthusiastically, “Yes! I’d love to.”
“But for now, how would you feel about joining me at Joe’s bar for a drink tonight?” he asks, hoping she’ll say yes.
“Yeah, what time should I meet you?”
“I’ll come get you in the intern locker room at the end of your shift.”
“Okay. Yes that sounds good.” She gives him a bright grin and he decides that it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and vows to make sure that as long as he’s around, she’s got something to smile about. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Alex.”
He takes a giant breath in and mirrors her grin, “See ya in a bit, Jo.” He turns and walks toward the attendings lounge, hoping to run into Meredith in order to share the big news. Alex Karev had found his soulmate.
#jolex#jolex fanfic#jo wilson#alex karev#jo wilson x alex karev#jo and alex#jo x alex#jo karev#camilla luddington#justin chambers#greys anatomy#greys fanfic#greys au#soulmate#soulmate alternate universe#soul marks
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Creating Happiness
Disclaimer: I do not own FBI Dick Wolf and CBS do. Not beta'd.
Genre: General
Rating: K
Awe and Allure
Jubal's POV
I am in total awe. I have always seen Isobel's nature shine through brightly each and every day. But today was different. Seeing her walk down the aisle with Jess escorting her, it seemed like she was floating down the aisle instead of walking. She looked stunning in her strapless mermaid gown and the ruffles added to the allure. Now we are dancing our first dance as husband and wife. I wrap one arm around her while holding her hand with my free hand and pulled her close. I leaned in and whispered, "You are so beautiful, Izzy. You have made me the luckiest guy ever. I love you."
Isobel's POV
I have to admit when Maggie, Kristen, and Emily had suggested I step outside the comfort zone of my usual wardrobe for a wedding gown . The wedding gown that they chose was strapless and had ruffles at the bottom. I was a little hesitant and skeptical. But when I tried it on, I was in awe, it fits me like a glove. That was the first. Then when I saw Jubal's face at the head of the altar as I was walking down the aisle. There was a glow on his face, and his eyes shone with happiness. Seeing face, I am glad I choose this dress.
Jubal has indeed made me very happy. He has completed my life in more ways than one.
Elegant
Jubal sighed. He had been racking his brain for the most perfect gift for his girlfriend, Isobel Castille. She was elegant in so many ways. He was baffled and amazed at how she had agreed to be his girlfriend. All he knew was that her gift had to be absolutely perfect.
Family
Looking into the mirror, Isobel sighed. There is one thing that Isobel didn't have for a long time. An immediate family. While Jubal had his two children from his first marriage, her parents have long died, and her sister is incognito somewhere in Europe. But together they did have Maggie, OA, Scola, Kristen, and Jess, Clinton, Kenny, Hana, Sheryll as family. However, Isobel longed for something more.
That was all about to change. In two months, she, Isobel Castille-Valentine, and Jubal Valentine would become parents to twins. Sure she felt like a beached whale now, but the whole journey was an incredible one for her and for Jubal.
Right then, she felt a pair of strong arms wound around her waist, and the rough hands settled and whispered, "You're beautiful, Isobel."
Isobel smiled. But before she could say anything, they felt two sets of feet kicking up a storm.
Yes, she was about to have a family of her own.
Kiss (1st as husband and wife)
Once the priest said, "With their love for each other clearly shown. By with the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jubal, you may kiss your bride."
Without wasting another second, Jubal stepped closer to Isobel and brought her in for a kiss. But he had a surprise in store for her. As she wound her right arm around his shoulder, he placed his left arm on her waist while his right hand held on hers. Jubal then held her close to him, and as their lips met, he did a slight turn and dipped her, surprising her and delighting their guests.
When he got her on solid ground, he leaned his forehead against them and whispered, "There will be more later, Mrs. Valentine."
Isobel smiling and said, "I will be holding you to that, Mr. Valentine."
Lethargic
It was one of those days where Isobel was extremely lethargic. Any food and drink smell made her stomach turn. Only a few things she was able to stomach were mineral water, ginger ale, and soda crackers.
As if that wasn't enough, coffee made her run to the bathroom to retch. This could only mean one thing.
After her team solved an easy case and her endless meeting. She went to the local 24-hour pharmacy and picked up five pregnancy tests, and headed home.
After all five came positive, she smiled. She and Jubal were expecting!
Possibilities
Jubal relished the new possibilities in his and Isobel's life. This was especially true now that they were expecting twins!
A/N 2: Thanks for reading Creating Happiness
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GREY'S ANATOMY 16X15 REVIEW
Wow, is the first thing that comes to mind with that episode, it's the first one I enjoyed so much in years. It wasn't like the old Grey's good, but I certainly enjoyed it. Now with that being said, onto the reviews.
The craziest ones first.
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Deluca
Oh boy, where do I start?........ Deluca ran out in a blizzard to have collect a liver WITHOUT GLOVES and ended up with frostbite. He is currently clearly having some mental issues and I hope that they're able to treat that soon before he's fired. Sure, he saved a kid's life and before that he saved Suzanne's life but what happens when his luck runs out? His hands are going to be out of commission for a while and I hope that he gets some help by then because something is definitely up with him and the way he's acting with the people around him is becoming harsh, which means the problem is getting worse.
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Meredith/Dr Haynes
Lumping them into one section seeing that were together for most of the night. Haynes is definitely enjoying having conversations with Meredith. In a way if they were to get together this would be the best way to do it. Too many relationships in Grey's start with sex first talk later and it worked for Meredith with Derek but it didn't for pretty much everyone else in the show, not everything is like the Mc Dreamy situation.
Must admit I enjoy the interactions but, I'm still not at shipper level yet. The bonding over their past spouses and raising kids ......☺☺☺. He had me going at first when he said Christina never mentioned Meredith, but turns out she just calls her the twisted sister, fair enough, I wouldn't be surprised if Christina had planned to set him up with Mer since the first time they spoke. On another note his passion for his patients is very admirable, hes not Alex Karev level yet. But I like him.
Meredith is trying with Deluca more than she did for Maggie when she was in her slump🤔🤨. She really has no plot right now, the show at this point might as well be called anatomy. She's trying to help Deluca, but only gets abuse in return, I really am praying that he is sick if not........😡🤬.
Then theres her and Haynes budding friendship. But that's pretty much all for Meredith.
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Jo and Alex
WTF, Alex better be dead or I'm going to be disappointed, he never even went to his mother's house and has been ghosting everyone......... excuse me what? I'm not seeing any proper valid excuse for the nonsense that is this plot. Why are they doing this? All of his progress is regressing. Next week is his final episode and it better have a valid explanation.
Jo is understandably a reck, I kind of enjoyed her sass though. I'm honestly confused. (Did he go after Izzie cause that would really be insane.) I understand they wanted to make it as painless as possible for Jo, but how is this better? She's heartbroken, they would have been better off if he'd died instead. I'm curious to know where the hell he is though.
But at least we got to see her have some support even if Link is a wreck as well.
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Teddy/Owen/Koracick
This story line definitely was the biggest WTF moment I was not expecting that from Teddy and more importantly the stupid Owen, Teddy, Koracick triangle starts again, but this time with a side of Amelia like OMG please stop🙄. Props to Teddy for being able to add up dates or having intuition or whatever her reason was for knowing. Although she could have discussed first instead of having pent up feelings that have now been released in the form of a huge mistake.
Poor Koracick at the end of the day Teddy and Owen will probably patch up the relationship and he'll be left once again heartbroken. I wish he had, had the strength to reject her. He's always the scape goat when her and Owen are having issues.
Owen, actually was being a good spouse and got cheated on but I guess Karma comes back around. He, just saved a baby and mom and asked Teddy If she wanted to ski for this episode. But I'm sure he's going to have a major storyline soon along with the others in this mess.
This love triangle just got even more complicated, especially if Amelia and Owen starts to catch feelings again.
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Richard
I'm actually perturbed by him tonight. Is he retiring? Better not be if he wants to stop preforming surgery, fair enough but he needs to be the intern director or something I can't have him leaving too after Karev, he can't give up too.
He found inspiration from a new intern. I thought she was going to be the new Dr Bailey for him. But nope she's not even a doctor. Her story was touching, but was she really going to cut into a patient with only barely having been in med school. How did she think that was going to work out? And poor Richard he was finally starting to get that teaching spark in his eyes again, only to find out she wasn't even a registered doctor. At the end he talked to her about never giving up, gives her his sethescop and says he no longer need it, like I said before they better not get rid of Richard as well, and where is Catherine? For someone who fought hard enough to buy a whole hospital for him to have to be around her, she sure is absent.
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Miranda Bailey
She spent the whole time helping Joey study for his GED and then took him on a tour of the hospital to see job options and it was just adorable, their banter is hilarious and is it me or is he going to be a surgeon. He was so interested in them saving the baby and the mom.
And as expected she has decided to adopt Joey however it happened like I didn't want it to..... really fast. So fast that she didn't even bother to inform her husband and I know Joey and Tuck were playing video games and getting along but does he understand that he's about to have a new brother?
I knew a Ben and Bailey fight was coming and I guess now it has (they've been too happy and no couple in Grey's stays happy for long. Luckily it seems like an easy fix.)
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Link
Link is ultimately depressed and it's sad because that means that he really did truly love Amelia,he should have taken some personal days as well because being depressed at work is never a good idea. I really hope that they aren't trying to set him up to be with Jo, I like their brother sister support system.
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Nico and Levi
Now I love my boy Levi, but sometimes I feel like being a surgeon is not for him. He fainted in the OR twice, cried when he had to give the patient bad news and then lost a patient, I hope he gets it together soon before he kills someone.
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Now as for his love life Idk what the hell happened. Nico took a 360 turn. Maybe he's bipolar as well, because I am lost. He's being such a douche, sure Levi's almost child like innocence and need to over share can be annoying at times but he deserves an explanation, he ditched his family for you because he pretended to be a fully open gay. The least he could do is give an explanation. Can't believe the way they're relationship is turning. I think this may be the beginning of the end for them. I hope not, they were good together.
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Jackson
Barely raised his head up from carrying on the work of Mark Sloan to fight with his new girlfriend Vic. Which I'm sure is not over they apologized but, that 2nd fight is coming soon.
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Maggie
No plot really besides being salty about no longer being chief, saving 2 lives, then confirming to Teddy that she's not crazy for thinking that Amelia's baby is Owen's and apparently giving her the courage she needed to cheat on Owen with Tom.
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Ending notes/ questions
• WHERE THE HELL IS ALEX?
• What's going to happen with the hot mess that is Teddy/Owen/Koracick/Amelia/Link.
• Is Deluca really mentally unstable and becoming like his dad? And is he going to be Ok?
• Is Richard retiring? (He better not be if his hand is shaking then fine stop surgery and teach instead, but you do not get to leave too Richard)
• Will Ben and Bailey come to agreement with adopting Joey? And will they agree to just him or adopt the others as well? (It seems strange that after the whole thing about having to keep them together they would just split them up and leave it like that.)
• What's going to happen with Meredith and her love triangle/not love triangle.
• Will they finally give Maggie's character something to do besides supporting people. She had like one or two 5 minute plot for like the past few seasons.
• What is wrong with Nico, he suddenly changed for the worst in 2.5 seconds and Idk where they're taking his character.
• Is Jo going to fall into the slump again like she did when she met her mother? I hope not. It's her time to shine now.
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Excited for next week's episode it's looking like Drama and emotions the whole episode. My favorite types.
#grey's anatomy#greys anatomy#grey s anatomy#grey's spoilers#grey's season 16#grey's s16#grey's abc#shondaland#shonda rhimes#meredith grey#miranda bailey#jackson avery#maggie pierce#owen hunt#teddy altman#richard webber#atticus link#levi schmitt#catherine fox#catherine avery#episode review#episode recap#tv series#tv show#tv characters#jo wilson#alex karev#my opinion#tv fandom
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The Ghosts You Leave
Disclaimer: Batman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics
Warnings: mentions of canon death and lonely teenagers talking to spirits
Rating: T
Synopsis: There is a game that is played around the cave that is difficult to explain. The game is that, in the most exasperated hours of stress, when the things that have happened on Gotham streets are too hard to express, they begin to compare notes. They compare what they have done and what they have seen.
A/N: So, in the 90s and 2000s you could not go many issues into a Batbook without someone hallucinating and casually talking to someone’s ghost and that always felt like such a weird convention in comics that went unremarked upon. Especially if you were uninitiated to it, I don’t know what you’d think about Jason’s ghost just doing cartwheels and cheering on Tim Drake. So. Here’s a fic lol
Cassandra Cain has spoken to ghosts before.
There is a game that is played around the cave that is difficult to explain. At least, it’s more difficult to explain than most of the others are willing to put the effort toward. The game is that, in the most exasperated hours of stress, when the things that have happened on Gotham streets are too hard to express, they begin to compare notes. They compare what they have done and what they have seen.
There isn’t supposed to be a winner in these kind of games, but there always is one regardless.
“Demons,” Damian remarks. He’s receiving stitches from Alfred who is curt in his actions and silent as stone. “Child stuff, really. Certainly you lot would know.”
“Honest to god,” Tim adds in the dead of night. He still has a concussions from the previous night, isn’t allowed back out. “He’s Frankenstein. Well. I suppose book accurate it’s Frankenstein’s monster. But who’s book accurate anymore?”
“Witch boy,” Stephanie chuckles, still combing out a sewer substance from her hair that is unspeakable. It’s only after what felt like hours of intently hosing and dabbing it out of the gash in her forearm. “I don’t know if that’s the right term. Warlock or something right? But if he calls himself — ba-dum-dum —“
“This meta, right, and he looks right into your soul,” Duke says lowly. There is a haunted gauntness to his face as he traces old scars. “And when you look back, something’s put there… but it’s not new. No, I guess it’s not put there. He lets something out of you and it’s already there.”
No matter how it’s said, with jest or quiet contemplation, Cassandra sees the tiredness in her friends and siblings’ eyes. It’s not an age that matches them, it’s infinitely older and more worn. She is overwhelmed with empathy for their plights.
But she is still a teenage girl, and there is a moving desire inside of her that wishes to participate as well.
“I talk to them,” she says, pulling at the already torn fabric of her newest suit. It’s cut with a blade that did not reach her flesh due to speed and flexibility she easily dismisses in the moment.
There are four pairs of eyes drawn to her as she speaks. It’s both what she wanted and not at all at the same time.
“Talk to who, Cass?” Stephanie presses with genuine curiosity.
“You,” Cassandra says without hesitation. “You had died.” She paused, then added with some accusation, “And left me.” With a breath, she eases back into sitting. “Then you came back. We talked. You told me what I needed.”
Stephanie bristles in place. This is not a time she likes to speak on, not a moment she likes to remember. But even as she opens her mouth and utters a noise, nothing can come out, it seems. It’s hard to talk about dying, especially when you’re the one doing it.
“Yeah? Well, after that whole dying thing with Shiva, I was the one talking to you! And I’ll have you know, you were a total chatterbox while in that coma!” Stephanie defends. “What was I supposed to do with that pressure? Not fight one of Shiva’s minions and defend your dead honor?”
“I didn’t get honor,” Cass counters.
“Well, after being a badass that night I have plenty to share, so I’ll lend you some of mine!” Stephanie responds with a smirk and wink.
The boys were in complete silence, looking at the two of them like they were foreign bodies floating over the stoop in the cave. Even Alfred had raised an eyebrow, gathered his medical supplies, and carried along without comment. Which seemed to say more than anything the rest of them had said the whole night.
“That’s weird, dude,” Duke broke the silence.
“I used to talk to Jason,” Tim announced, out of sync with Duke’s message. “I mean, before he was… back. I did it all the time. I would spend hours after patrol just… here in the cave. Bruce gone. And I’d look at his case and just… ask the tough questions. Look for inspiration… wonder if I was doing the right thing.”
Cassandra curled her nose slightly at this. “You… asked Jason?”
“He was very supportive,” Tim defended. “Gave great advice… made me feel… okay with what I’m doing. Like it was really making a difference.” He sniffed and rubbed at his nose with the back of his glove. “Imagine the shellshock of going from that to… well. Multiple decapitation attempts.”
Duke refocused his concerned energy toward Tim, which immediately made the third Robin prickly.
“He’s gotten…. He’s still Jason but he’s not tried to kill me since the batarang thing,” Tim argues the unvoiced words.
The heaviness of it hangs in the air as Duke and Damian seem to look between the three of them.
“I… may have spoken to my ancestors,” Damian finally acknowledges. After a betrayed look from Duke, however, he is quick to amend, “I didn’t see them wearing a sheet and saying boo, Thomas, it’s simply in the sense that… Well, with the Year of Blood and all that, there is a lot I have witnessed and my witness… is expected. It’s not hallucination.”
Cassandra frowns at this distinction. She doesn’t shift in discomfort like Stephanie or grow red in her ears like Tim, but she searches Damian’s features. It’s difficult, even with her keen understanding of body and movement, to determine what he is trying to distinguish between their cases.
“I don’t know what you guys saw or talked to,” Duke says finally. “On my tough nights, I talked to the other Robins. And now… I’ve still got Riko or Izzy or… Well, I talk to you, Cass. About… the stuff we’ve been doing together.”
Taken aback, Cassandra nods. She has not spoken to any ghostly figures lately, not since the Outsiders.
It isn’t something she’s noticed before now. But it is curious.
“That is because you are not lonely, Master Duke,” Alfred speaks up, surprising everyone from his corner in the medical bay as he cleans tools and restocks dressings. “And unfortunately, this is lonely business… when one chooses to make it so.”
The teens glance back to each other as the butler continues his work. They’re silent again, but in each other’s companies.
After all, it had not been long since each of them had uttered the immortal phrase for Alfred in that very cave.
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Loving You Is A Losing Game - chapter eight
i suck at updating. i also remembered that i have another book i’m working on, so i’m trying to write all of that before i publish the first chapter. so its been fun.
this chapter is written like an eleven year old girl wrote it, and for that i apologize. i’m tired. hope you like it though... and also, i know that teddy doesn't come until after the merger, but i'm changing that because otherwise there is no one for cardio
~*~
"oh, oh, all i know, all i know, loving you is a losing game"
~*~
alex karev was having a good day. a really good day actually. izzie wasn't as determined to go back to work as he thought she would be, and didn't try to argue with him when he told her that she needed to stay home. he hadn't seen any bears that morning (those things are freakin terrifying), and he had a small texting session with jo, which inevitably made him laugh as she rambled on about absolutely nothing. yeah, it was a good day, and he just hoped that it would stay that way.
he walked into the hospital leisurely since he —for once in his life— wasn't late. he stopped by the coffee cart and ordered a straight black coffee, giving the cashier a half hearted attempt at a smile before making his way to the resident's lounge and changing into his scrubs. he felt a sense of calm in him. he knew that something was probably bound to happen at some point, but right now he was going to enjoy the silence of the lounge (a major rare) before the storm hit. because it always did right? that's how it had been his whole life. happy kid, bam, dad starts using. dad starts using, mom's conditions gets worse. mom's conditions get worse, she had more kids.
he knew it wasn't fair of him to call his little siblings a storm, but in a way they were. it made him have to grow up a hell of a lot younger than other kids his age. so bam, siblings. then he starts his surgical internship, which leads to a crazy amount of drama. he gets married, then cheats on his wife. if you ask him, that was a whole lot of storms. but right at this moment, there was no storm. there was just a guy lying down on a bench as people chattered in the halls. a guy with his eyes closed as he lets his mind go completely blank, not thinking about anything at all except the white noise he seemed to hear.
it was peaceful, he couldn't remember the last time he wasn't worried about his wife or his friends. right now it was just him, not worrying about anybody or anything, not even himself. he just relaxed and let the white noise take over.
but of course, moments of calm must come to an end. his pager breaks him out of his state, rubbing his eyes before finding doctor robbins, who was paging him to the PICU.
"what happened?" he asks a nurse, pulling on a pair of gloves as he entered the room of jeremy thomas, a six year old who came in a few days ago after he had fallen out of the tree he was climbing, a not so rare occurrence in peds. he had some internal bleeding that they were able repair and a minor concussion, but otherwise seemed to be doing fine. until now that is, his monitors seeming to be beeping out of control in the otherwise quietness of the sterile four walls, nurses rushing in to help.
he watches as arizona brings two different ultrasound machines into the room, immediately paging cardio as alex tries to consult the crying parents, leading them out into the hall and onto chairs, giving them reassuring words as he makes his way back in, robbins looking up at him immediately. "his appendix burst." the blonde says, not having time to say more as doctor altman enters the room, performing a cardiac ultrasound, pursing her lips as she analyzes the screen.
"we missed it before, but he tore his aorta. it was too small to see when he first came in, but we need to get him up to the OR right now." she states, already unlatching the wheels of the bed as she shouts orders to nurses, letting them know that an operation room needed to be prepped and ready for them. they roll jeremy up to surgery, scrubbing in as quickly as they could before beginning the operation. he watches as the two women stick out their hands, taking a deep breath before they begin.
"ten blade."
____
"suction! i need suction!" altman says frantically to her resident, trying to stop the bleeder as quickly as she could. alex feels his heart drop at the sight of the kid in front of him. there was so much blood pooling in his chest, and no matter how much suction he knew the scrawny resident applied, the kid was too far gone. he was hands deep in the boys abdomen, helping robbins suture as she looked for any more damage done to the boy.
when the monitors begin to draw out in a straight line and he hears the cardio surgeon yell clear! he knows that it was a lost cause. they shock the boy three times, teddy letting out a loud sigh as she shakes her head defeatedly.
"call it karev" arizona says to him.
alex gulps, this was his least favorite part about being a surgeon, not only calling time of death, but doing it to a kid. and this child was only six years old. he'd never grow up. never go to a high school formal or experience his first love. his life ended because he fell out of a tree. how freaking screwed up was that?
"time of death, 10:13 am." he sighs, immediately ripping off his gown and gloves, thrusting them into the bin, the attendings not far behind him. he tears his light blue scrub cap off, leaning into the scrub sink as he watches the younger resident close up the patient, nurses cleaning up the blood and lap pads on the ground. alex shakes his head and lets a slow breath escape his lips. he always had to calm himself down after losing a kid, and he's lost a fair amount of them in his nearly four years at seattle grace. it made him mad. mad that the universe could take something, no, someone so innocent from this world while there were people like his dad who were running around free. well, he was free when alex was a kid. maybe jimmy was dead now, who knew. but that didn't change the fact that a kid was dead and awful people were out there, living their best life.
arizona gives his shoulder a small rub, silently telling him that he did good in there, it just wasn't enough. the three scrub out alongside each other, alex taking in the attending's appearances, arizona looked exhausted and like she hadn't slept in days, while altman, who he didn't know very well, looked stressed. seems like he'd be talking to the parents.
"i'll tell the thomas's" he says, already beginning to jog down the hall before he sees the taller blonde catch up to him, saying something about how they both needed to be there, big guns and all. when he tells the parents the news he feels the overwhelming urge to just quit again. it happened every time. those cries haunted him. it hurt him when he lost patients, but this was someone these parents loved more than life itself. their own flesh and blood, a product of their love for each other. but he wouldn't quit. he never did. instead, he would work in the skills lab to improve his technique and save more kids. that's what he would do.
there goes his good day. he didn't think it could get any worse, because let's be realistic, what was worse than losing a kid? nothing could make a day more crappy than that. that was until, when he passed by the chief's office to see his wife in a chair, talking to richard webber urgently, almost as if she was pleading.
he lets out a frustrated sigh, having the urge to punch a wall. of course it wouldn't have been that easy, how stupid of him to think otherwise. he should've known izzie would pull something like this. he knew how much this job meant to her. this was her home, just like him. but he was still pissed. she needed to be resting, she was still too weak to come back to work.
before he knew it he was barging into the chief's office, startling the blonde, but not so much the chief. he knew alex would turn up sooner or later.
"what the hell iz!" alex says angrily, glaring at his wife.
izzie lets out a frustrated sigh. "alex i need to be here." she says adamantly, standing up from her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. she was wearing a long sleeved beige sweater, even though it was hot inside of the office. that wasn't what alex would call being well enough to go back to work.
"no izzie, you need to go home and rest. you'll be fine." he says, running a hand through his hair as he watches the fire burn in her eyes. crap. he was trying to civil. he even used a softer voice, but yet she just got more angry.
"how the hell can you say that alex!" she yells, richard leaning back in his chair uncomfortably. he wasn't one who liked to be in the middle of drama. "i'm at that goddamn trailer all day while you're here!"
he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his anger. if he didn't, he would snap. and if he snapped, izzie would ban him from the tin can the called their home and he would be forced to spend the night at mer's place, and he definitely didn't want to hear her and shepherd going at it. they were like bunnies, screwing each other everywhere at any time.
"iz, please. just go home and rest." he pleads with her. he couldn't deal with her getting sick again. he almost lost her last time. she died in his freaking arms. he couldn't go through that again... the helplessness, the pain. he loved her, but she died in his arms. he couldn't lose her. her loved her. he couldn't go through the hurt again, the heartache almost losing her brought on. it was gut wrenching and terrifying, it ate him up inside and loomed in his nightmares. he couldn't lose her, not to this cancer, not again.
the blonde was about to say something when the chief steps in, leaning over his desk and clasping his hands in front of him, giving the woman sympathetic eyes. "karev's right stevens. go home and rest."
izzie swallows the lump growing in her throat. she wanted to argue. she wanted to say that she felt fine, that she was ready to go back to work, but she knew defying the chief would only get her in trouble. she sighs in defeat and nods her head, turning to glare at her husband. she was pissed. maybe she could've gotten richard to agree to letting her come back if he hadn't come in. now she would never know (she knew that realistically that wasn't the case, webber had been denying her requests since the moment she stepped though his office doors.)
she brushes by alex without looking at him, making him sigh as he watches her walk down the catwalk and disappear around a corner. he turns back to the man and gives him a small, appreciative nod. he was too tired to manage a smile. the chief nods back, understanding how he felt.
he just wanted to go to joe's and have a beer, his crappy day taking a toll on him quickly. arguing with his wife always took a toll on him. it was exhausting. it seemed to drain him inside and out, making his brain lose it's function until he got to state of peace, which only occurred when he had a beer in his hand and was sipping it leisurely, or when he was able to lie down and sleep.
the beer sounded much more appealing, but he still had six more hours of his shift. normally, with the upcoming merger he would make sure to stay overtime, logging extra hours in the pit, scrounging for surgeries, but today he just didn't have the energy.
he makes it into the nearest on call room and crawls into one of the bottom bunks, setting his pager directly beside him so it would have no trouble waking him up when it went off. he lets out a yawn as he wraps the thin, uncomfortable blanket tightly around him as he drifts off the sleep, hoping to forget about the day he's had so far, even if it's just for a few minutes.
____
when she woke up that morning nothing was out of the ordinary. She could hear the birds chirping their delightful songs, she could feel the duvet pulled up to her neck, and she could tell that paul wasn't in the bed with her. she was used to waking up like this, it was her idea of normal.
it wasn't until she tried to open her eyes she realized what was wrong. she couldn't open her left one. she was confused at first, until she felt the pain shoot through her body, traveling from her eye to the rest of her body, feeling like how it did when she first received the punch. the memory of last night was a bit iffy. all she remembered was coming home from the party, getting punched, her husband saying he was sorry, and talking to alex.
that thought brings a small smile on her face, recalling the teasing that had happened the night before. she knew that their... whatever they had escalated quickly. in just a few days of knowing each other, they had learned so much about one another that it seemed like they had been best of friends since they were kids, but hey, if cheating on your spouse doesn't bring you together, what does?
she lets out a groan of pain, wincing as she finally pries her eye open, getting up slowly before making her way to the bathroom, frowning at the sight she saw in the mirror. a dark purple bruise covered her left eye and the area surrounding it. she splashes some cold water on her face, gently patting it with a wet towel once she was done. last night changed a lot of things. something had been in paul's eyes when he hit her, something she hadn't seen before. it was like a billion fires were raging inside of him, and when he hit her, it was the burn.
but... he seemed so sorry after he had done it. at least she knew better now, he was just a bit jealous. he didn't want to lose her, he loved her. and if that meant he got a bit mad over her talking to his colleagues too much, then she wouldn't make the same mistake again.
she walks out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, grabbing a pack of frozen peas from the fridge and wraps it in a towel, pressing it gently to her swollen bruise. the cold stings a bit at first, but she sucks it up as she leans against the marble island's counter, watching as the minute hand ticks by on the clock above the random painting her husband had hung on a wall. today she had nothing to do. it was a saturday, so she didn't have any classes, and she didn't have any work to do. no papers, essays, labs... the ultimate rare and what most would call the greatest blessing for a college student, but for her it just meant she had to sit around and watch TV until her husband got home.
she wanted to feel angry at paul, but how could she? she didn't have the right to be mad at him, she cheated on him. wouldn't that make her a hypocrite, being mad at her husband when she had done something worse?
she sighs as she sets herself down on the couch, turning on the TV and flipping it to some random channel, settling on a soap opera she had seen a few times play on the screen. her life felt a bit like a soap opera right now to be honest. actually, her whole life had.
welcome to 'the life of jo, (who's name isn't actually jo, its brooke)'. catchy title right? she thought so too.
last night, the feeling of paul holding her in his arms no longer made her feel safe. it felt wrong. she just wanted to feel safe again, that was all she really wanted. for him to hold her like a porcelain doll and place kisses on the top of her head. she had always felt safe then. why couldn't she feel that now?
she just wanted to feel safe again.
____
alex walks out of the hospital, head hung low with his hands buried deep in his pockets, letting out a deep exhale as he watches his feet move beneath him like they were the greatest movie he'd ever seen. anyone who passed by him on the street could probably take one look at him and tell that he had a crappy day.
he sighs as he contemplates the day he had so far. it was only seven thirty-three, yet it felt like he'd been up for forty eight hours. his quick nap in the on-call room only lasted a mere ten minutes before he was paged to the pit, only to find out that the kid he would be assisting on was a four year boy old with abusive parents. it took everything in him not to beat the shit out of the assholes.
add that to losing jeremy and izzie drama, he was exhausted. he didn't want to do anything. he wanted to feel at peace. he just wanted a little bit of normalcy, something he knew wasn't even close to possible, especially with his job.
alex leans against the brick wall in the ally way of joe's bar, pulling out his phone and clicking on the familiar contact.
jo pulls out her ringing phone, a sigh a relief escaping her lips as she sees the name pop up on her screen. they speak it at the same time, words breathy and tired.
she says it because she wants to feel safe.
he says it because he wants to feel normal.
"when can i see you again?"
#jolex#jolex fic#jolex fanfic#jolex fanfiction#jolex au#au#greys#greys anatomy#greys abc#greys anatomy fic#greys anatomy fanfic#greys anatomy fanfiction#alex karev#jo wilson#jo karev#jo wilson karev#affair#loving you is a losing game#izzie stevens#brooke stadler#teddy altman#arizona robbins#jo x alex#alex x jo#camilla luddington#justin chambers#greys anatomy au#screw 16x16#payton writes
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When the Clock Stops
Fandom: Flash/Arrow
Pairing: Oliver Queen x Sage Moreaux (OC)
Words: 1583
Note: Can be found on AO3
Summary: When the Crisis looms and difficult choices must be made, wedding vows are put on the line as they face down the swift moving hands of time.
Warning: This ficlet has spoilers for Crisis on Infinite Earths Part 1. If you have not seen it yet, you will be spoiled. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
———-
Her finger pulsed on the trigger, sending arrow after arrow flying off her crossbow. Her heart jumped in her chest as she shuffled backwards, keeping close to her husband and her daughter. She cracked a grin, at the idea and at taking down a shadow demon. Fighting with her husband and daughter from the future? If she weren’t so used to this life, she’d wonder what Barry did to mess things up this time. Only he had no hand in bringing Izzy to her. That was luck she supposed. And she’d cherish this moment, seeing her daughter fighting with reckless abandon, saving the Earth, following in Oliver’s footsteps.
Sage returned her focus to the battle around her, ducking and dodging to hit every and any member of the Anti-Monitor’s shadow army. Ray’s blaster beams sliced through the air, dancing with Kara’s and Clark’s beams shooting from their eyes. The rest of them stayed on the ground—Barry, Oliver, Izzy, Kate—circling and keeping the enemy away one by one. Bursting into clouds of smoke and matter with every strike.
A flash of red. Barry punching out a demon.
Blue beams. Kara and Clark twisting around, taking down demons diving from above.
A smear of green. Oliver—no—Izzy flipping through a well-aimed kick, curly hair flying.
Sage’s heart swelled with pride at the direct hit.
Izzy would be okay.
They’d all be okay.
Blue flashing and twisting within a cloud appeared to Sage’s left and she cursed beneath her breath at the sight of the Monitor. No! Not now! This can’t be it!
“The battle is lost,” the Monitor announced, stepping out of the temporal gateway. “We must retreat and save our resources for battles yet to come.”
Sage glanced at Oliver, at her husband, out the corner of her eye. He barely reacted to the Monitor’s statement, still drawing back his bow, still fighting. But she spotted it in his eye, through the grease smeared around the skin, through the mask. A fleeting sort of hesitancy that made her, for one second, rethink everything. But then the fire reignited and he kept going, his movements so fluid and graceful that for a brief moment she stared, took in the beautiful sight of him. She steadied her jaw. That’s that, then.
Her finger pulsed on the trigger.
Puffs of blue clouded smoke enveloped them one by one. Kate. Ray. Kara. Clark.
Izzy! She turned a halfstep, a shout dancing on the tip of her tongue, to warn, but it died away when she was enveloped too. Doubts careened around her. She stood and watched as her daughter, her baby, disappeared before her eyes.
Was this still right? Was she doing the right thing? There was still a chance, to spend time with her, to be there for her little girl. One unplanned but never unwanted.
“Oliver!”
Barry’s shout made her whip around, a searing pain lodging in her chest at the sight of Oliver being knocked over.
She gripped her crossbow. No. She need to be here.
Her eyes locked with the Monitor’s and he lifted his hand. “No!” she snarled with such a ferocity that it rumbled in her chest. He paused and she shook her head. The Monitor’s head inclined, a single nod. Confirmation.
She nodded back.
“Oliver,” the Monitor called out, shifting his attention. Sage did the same, lifting her crossbow and firing more arrows. They whizzed through the sky, hitting each mark. Bursting every target. “It is time.”
“Has the planet been evacuated yet?” Oliver demanded, his gruff words sending a shiver down her spine.
“Not entirely,” the Monitor replied.
“Then it’s not time!” Oliver
Oliver looked at Sage. It crept all the way down to her toes, unsteadying her for a second in only the way that Oliver could manage to make her waver. She closed her eyes, engraving that look in her mind, in her heart.
“Sage—”
“Ollie,” she interrupted him, eyelids flying open, eyes hardening.
“Go.”
“No.”
“Sage, don’t—”
Sage grasped at the insignia on her midnight blue suit, twisted it to the left. It cranked and clicked until she stopped and then slapped it, pushing it a few inches inwards. Blue beams shot off from the insignia and traveled down the inner arms of her suit, crawling up to her palms. Energy surged through her and she dropped the crossbow, holding up her hands, thrusting them outwards as she concentrated.
A thin, blue dome popped up around them. The shadow demons all halted, stopped in midair, frozen. Pain rolled in waves in Sage’s head. Tears formed on the bottom lids of her eyes and a warm, wet trail slid down from her left nostril. It slipped over her lips and she stuck out her tongue, taking in the familiar metallic taste of blood. Oliver whipped around, looking this way and that as she gritted her teeth, straining.
“Wha…?”
“Froze time,” she uttered.
“You can—?”
“I can now,” she said. Her legs began to tremble. “It’s new. I don’t use it much.” She sucked in a hissing breath through her teeth as he approached. “Don’t have much time. Just needed…to say something.”
She focused on Oliver’s echoing footsteps rather than the flames licking at her muscles, coursing beneath her skin, and cracking her skull. Her breaths came out in ragged, hissing bursts but she kept her eyes on him. On Oliver. And she leaned into his comforting touch when his gloved hand cupped her cheek and his forehead pressed against hers.
“I’m…I’m s-so…proud of you,” she uttered, doing her best to keep her strength. In her words. In her body. In her resolve. “Oliver Queen, I’m so proud of you. And—and I love you. You gave me a b-beautiful daughter…and a beautiful life. And I th-thank you.”
“I love you,” Oliver said. He pressed a kiss to her lips, the blood clinging when he pulled away. He didn’t move to wipe it away. “You need to go.” His breath ghosted across her lips. She took in his scent, cologne mixed in with leather and mint. So uniquely Oliver.
Sage shook her head. ‘’Til death do us part, remember?” His eyes darkened and his jaw set. A little muscle twitched near the back, below his ear. His lips pressed into a line and, oh, how she wanted to kiss those lips again. One last time.
But she couldn’t move.
Not yet.
The field would break and then… It wasn’t time.
They needed to be ready.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“I can’t ask you—”
“You didn’t. And you won’t. This…this is what has to happen. I’m fine with it. This is what I want. You’re what I want.”
Oliver’s hand curled on his bow. He nodded, his nose nuzzling against hers. A low hum sounded in the back of her throat at their touch. She nodded. With a groan, she dropped her arms. The dome around them broke, shattering into small glittering pieces that rained down on the rooftop beneath them. Sound hit them all at once. The screeching of the shadow demons vibrated her bones and turned her stomach but her resolve steeled.
Staggering back to her feet, she pushed her hair back out of her face as Oliver lifted a bow and in one, fluid, sure gesture, shot it at the Monitor. Sage turned her back on him as he fell to the ground, electricity coursing over his body.
Lifting her stinging arms, Sage readied her crossbow, recalled all the marksman training her uncle Joe, and her father, and Oliver had put her through, and fought.
And fought
And fought. She rolled and dodged away from swooping shadow demons, landing swift kicks and punches to those that got close enough. A few exploded with the force of her swinging her crossbow around, catching them in the sides.
An explosion knocked her off her feet. A loud ringing screamed in her ears, her vision tilted, and her breath stuttered as she rolled around, trying to get back to her feet. Trying to fight. Soot and dirt coated the inside of her mouth, sucking the moisture out. Her coughs, ragged and hacking, seized her body and famed the flickering flames of ache.
Sage got to her feet, unsteady. Her eyes darted around until she spotted Oliver on the ground. “Ollie!” She clumsily skirted the debris and slabs of concrete on the roof top and dropped to his side. He swung his legs around, lifting into a kneeling position as he reached back for an arrow.
He grabbed air.
She held her gloved hand out to him and he grasped it, allowing her to help him to his feet. Their grip tightened as they looked in one another’s eyes, their breaths steadying. She squeezed hard and slipped her hand out of his grasp, turning to face the shadow army head on. Flashes of her family flittered through her mind: Uncle Joe, Iris, Wally, Barry, Nora, Caitlin, Cisco, Ralph, Cecile, her daughter Izzy.
Oliver.
“By the way.” Sage dragged the back of her hand against her mouth and turned a half-smile over to Oliver, coupled with a wink. “Happy anniversary.”
He blinked, uttered a short laugh, and shook his head. All at once the mirth in their faces drained and were replaced with stony acceptance. Oliver threw away his bow. Sage tossed down her crossbow and yanked ring daggers out the patches on her thighs. They tensed and, with simultaneous battle cries, they charged, united.
#the flash#arrow#crisis on infinite earths spoilers#oliver queen#sage moreaux#arreaux#arrow ficlet#flash ficlet#my writings#the flash oc#arrow oc#technically
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Floor A (Part 3)
Part 1 Part 2
Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket @malibubarbievince @spacey-aceys-bitch @rock-em-sock-em-rock-n-roll @sodalitefully @aheadfullofskies @vandova @awrestilinggirlwholoves80sbands @terriiiiible @whisperess33 @killerqueenishere
WHAM!WHAM!WHAM!
That sounded like someone pounding on a door.
Or trying to kick it down.
“Izzy?! C’mon, man, open up! I got quinoa! And brown rice and beans! And organic chicken! Her name was Esther and she was raised without antibiotics! She died of natural causes! In her sleep! Are ya hungry!”
This would be the perfect time for you to take a break. And find out just what the hell was going on out there.
You opened up your door just a crack to see a very tall man with shaggy blonde hair in skintight jeans and a black tank top, his tattooed arms full of biodegradable containers, kicking Dr. Isbell’s door with a very purposeful gray cowboy boot.
“IZZY!! I know you’re in there! Open up!”
That’s Dr. McKagan, you realized. Susan’s McSteamy that she went on and on about. You had decided to humor her and had made a trip over to cardiac just to see this supposed dreamboat in person.
You hadn’t been disappointed. Obviously you preferred Dr. Isbell’s dark, rock star biker aesthetic over McKagan’s blonde, punky one, but the cardiologist was very attractive.
And very loud.
“IZZZZZYYY!!!? Don’t tell I have to text-”
The pathologist’s door flew open at that moment, thankfully when Dr. McKagan’s boot wasn’t planted on it, and a very irritated Dr. Isbell hissed, “Shut up, Duff!”
Dr. McKagan laughed. “Why? You got someone on the slab and you think I’m gonna wake ‘em up?”
“No, dumbass, I have a neighbor now.”
You leaned back away from your door so the two of them couldn’t see you.
“No shit?” Dr. McKagan asked. “What was their crime?”
“Standing in the way of Kim’s corner suite dreams.”
“Damn. Poor soul, stuck down here with you and the cadavers.”
You couldn’t make out Dr. Isbell’s response to that, and the frustration had you biting your fist.
Then the sounds of the Beatles’ “Help!” filled the basement.
“Oh shit, Izz, I gotta go. That’s an emergency. Here, take all of it, you probably need some vitamins working in this dungeon,” and you peeked out just to see Dr. McKagan shove the food containers into Dr. Isbell’s arms and take off towards the stairwell.
“You say that like you’re a doctor,” Dr. Isbell called at his retreating back, then his shoulders slumped as he sighed.
Your eyes met his through the crack in your door. “Hey,” he said quietly, “sorry you had to hear all that. Would you like to have some lunch? I can’t possibly eat all of this.”
“Sure,” you said, not quite certain you weren’t dreaming.
You had expected Dr. Isbell to hand you one of the containers, but instead he turned his back to you and walked back to his office door. You guessed that you were supposed to follow him inside, and you paused, long enough to realize you really were willing to do anything he asked, even follow him into a morgue.
Only it wasn’t a morgue. You walked past a huge room filled with lab equipment and some very impressive, very hi-tech microscopes. (The stack of gloves marked L did not escape your attention, as well as the fact they were black.) You could hear music, some tasteful slide guitar playing quietly, and silently approved his excellent musical taste.
Dr. Isbell finally turned around and motioned you into his private office, and you were surprised at how utilitarian it was, a desk, a small table and two chairs the only furniture in it, and only a few framed diplomas on the wall. No awards, nothing remotely boastful about his decor.
No pictures of his bike.
No pictures of a girlfriend, either.
He sat down at the table and laid down the two containers, one marked with an “I” on the top and one with a “D”. “They’re the same thing, except mine has avocado. You can have it if you want it.”
“No, thank you, this is fine,” you said, unwrapping your cutlery, touched he was willing to give up his lunch if you asked for it.
“This is Duff’s health food crap he’s always forcing on me. Thinks I’m not getting enough nutrients down here.”
“Duff?” you asked him, scooping up some quinoa and beans. It was actually pretty good, although your company was much more enjoyable.
“Yeah, that’s what everyone calls him. Even his mom. Dr. McKagan and I were undergraduates together. We uh, had a band.”
“Is that them?” You jerked your chin toward the only photo Dr. Isbell had on his wall, a group of 5 guys standing together. Duff was the tallest, and Dr. Isbell was standing on the end, a floppy black hat hiding most of his face.
“What did you play?” you asked him, curious now.
“Rhythm guitar,” he answered, then took a bite of his lunch.
“That’s cool. Do you still play?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” he indicated the music in the background, and your mouth fell open.
“Really? Wow, you’re very good,” and he ducked his head, not before you saw his cheeks flush pink.
“Thank you,’ he said shyly. “I don’t want you to think I sit around listening to my own stuff all day, but I wrote this and I’m trying to figure out what the next part should be…”
He trailed off because now you were just openly staring at him, completely amazed. “Wow,” you breathed, then as he looked down and took another bite you decided you had to ask him what you were dying to know.
“Dr.-”
“Please call me Izzy.”
Okay. “Izzy, why do you have such a-”
“Bad reputation?” He sighed. “Because I dated someone who used to work here, and when we broke up she started a bunch of rumors about me. And because nobody knew me, or ever saw me-”
“People believed them,” you finished sadly. You looked out toward the rest of his quarters, then looked back at him and said, “Well, you do cut open the dead for a living.”
He laughed, a short bark that brought out the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen and you became light-headed for a moment. “I don’t cut people open near as much as everyone thinks. I’m usually hunched over a microscope, making notes.”
“You don’t do autopsies?” you asked, now incredibly confused.
“Well, yeah, I do. I actually like doing them,” he said, and you gasped out loud.
He sat up, elbows on the table, and you noticed he had really beautiful hands. “Do you know why an autopsy is performed?”
You wordlessly shook your head.
“It’s because there’s a mystery. Either they don’t know who the person is, or because they don’t know how they died. An identification has to be made. When I do an autopsy, I feel like I’m helping someone, giving them the last gift I can give to them. I’m giving them closure.”
“That sounds very noble,” you said, now completely flabbergasted. Dr. Isbell-Izzy-wasn’t a monster at all. He was actually a really lovely person.
His girlfriend was probably crazy about him. Although from the looks of his office, he didn’t return the favor.
His quiet voice broke into your thoughts. “Yeah, well don’t let it get out that I’m noble. I gotta keep everybody afraid of me,” he said.
“Why is that?”
“So they’ll leave me alone.”
“Is that what you want?” you asked softly, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.
“I want most people to leave me alone.” He paused, his eyes making direct contact with yours. “I didn’t say all of them.”
That hit you like a sledgehammer in the chest. Did that mean what it sounded like?
“Other than Duff, I never have lunch with anyone here. Uh, thank you. For having lunch with me.”
Oh. Guess he didn’t mean it that way.
“Thank you, Izzy. For asking me.”
“I’m sorry it was that hi-octane roughage Duff eats. He went nuts for Quinoa Bowl when it opened up. I usually go to Taco Bell.”
Be still my heart, you thought.
Even though going back to your office was the last thing you wanted to do, you knew you had to get back to work.
“Thank you again,” you said, and he nodded, and you could’ve sworn you saw a haunted sadness flicker across his face as you turned to leave.
Izzy really did love Taco Bell. The next day he’d brought back a feast and invited you over to his office again, the two of you devouring it with gusto.
You had to switch your phone to vibrate and leave it in your office because Kayli and Susan were blowing up it up when you opted to eat lunch with the good doctor, who was warming up to you. He didn’t elaborate on his personal life, and you were afraid to ask, but you had learned he was from Indiana, he played drums and bass and guitar and piano, oh and he sang too, he loved the Rolling Stones, and was into skateboarding as well as motorcycles.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t have lunch with anyone. He seemed incredibly lonely. Like he hadn’t talked to anyone in a year. Or ten. And you listened to him, his quiet voice speeding up and growing louder in his enthusiasm, watching his hands move excitedly, and your heart ached with compassion at this sweet man, locked in a hospital basement for so long without a friend, at least one with a heartbeat, and wished you could stay forever.
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