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#drew this faster than normal. by that i mean it didn’t take me 8 hours for once WHOO
ra-vio · 3 months
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It snowed today
also my blog turned 10 this month and i usually draw these two to celebrate
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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years
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A Witcher's Pack Chapter Two
The pack face the consequences of there unconventional rendezvous, good and bad..
Masterlist
Chapter One
A/n I've tried my best with this one, it might have a few more mistakes then usual as i have had a hell of a few days and been writing tiny bits at a time. I hope you like it and i caught things just right 😘xx
WARNINGS: Angst, Hints at miscarriage, Swearing ,A/B/O
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Geralt sat across from the village leader not wanting to be so far from his mate who was fresh out of her twelve day heat, longer than expected but he was glad for the extra time after all he was trying to breed you with Jaskier. The man before him drew his attention from his thoughts .Beta. His jaw was locked and he was fuming. The so called witch was none other than his precious mate. They had called him to kill her. It took every ounce of strength not to claw off this mans face and rip out his throat. He continued explaining all the measures they had taken to ensure she couldn't 'corrupt' or 'enchant' the others. He seemed proud of how they had thrown a helpless terrified eleven year old child out into the cold, banished her to that shack with no prospects ,food or means to look after herself. His heart clenched painfully, she must have been so scared and confused the mere thought of what she had endured made his stomach churn feeling sick. He heaved deep breaths flexing his hands itching to rearrange the mans face .Permanently. The male across from him didn't seem to notice the warning signs.
"And now we have another alpha we cant risk him being lead astray by a-a filthy harlot! Witcher you must rid us of her she is useless, a waste of our resources and will soon begin to lure the men out to her. We aren't sure how it works but its defiantly coming, she caused his turning to be agony" Geralt growled slamming a heavy fist on the table the resounding crack of wood giving way silenced the man. He spoke low and gravely the growl laced in his voice showed how close his alpha was to the surface.
"You mean to tell me you put her through all that because you didn't understand what she was? She is not a monster. Shes not a siren or succubus. And she defiantly didn't make that boys turning painful, it is painful for everyone." He growled out the words loosing his cool as he continued as the truth of what they had done to you sunk in.
" You sit there so high and mighty aND YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'VE DONE SHE WAS A CHILD! SCARED AND ALONE AND YOU-YOU THROUGH HER AWAY, TREATED HER LIKE AN ANIMAL! SHE DOESN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE IS." Geralt stood breathing heavy. Tucking his head low taking deep harsh breaths. As the beta cowered before him.
"I will take her away and you will give me the coin for doing it, or I will inform the others not to take contracts for this village. And you will find yourself in a tricky position in spring when the migrations start."  The man sputtered unsure of what had caused the out burst.
"I-I you cant do that!?"
"Oh trust me I can and will we alphas take injustices against our true mates very seriously, especially us witcher's its extremely rare for us in particular. Once word gets out about what you've done to my mate they wont be so quick to aid you in the future." Geralt was pushing it, bending the truth to get what he wanted. The man looked shocked as Geralt announced you as his true mate realizing his mistake to late. He sighed defeated pulling out the coin pouch wanting the irritated mutant alpha out of the village. Geralt snatched it from him in one hand bringing up his other a swift fist across the face knocking him out cold on the floor with a nod humming in approval.  The beta was down. He'd get up in a few hours. Then he turned leaving the room heading quickly out to the shack occupied by his pack. Ready to gather them up and head back to kaer morhen for winter and to see vesemir he needed answers.
8 weeks later
You smiled contently walking along side roach Geralt sat atop her and Jaskier beside you. the last three months had been bliss ,the best of your life. Your new pack had taken care of you kept you fed with freshly hunted meat thanks to your new found alpha who could hunt and they kept you warm providing you with new clothes that shielded you from the harsh autumn breeze that was to come in the next week or so, You could walk through towns without being spat at or cursed out, most of the time when anyone tried you witcher mate would scare the shit out of them. It was nice when he did it made your tummy flutter and you'd blush as after each time he would wrap himself around you protectively. you slept beside a hot roaring fire each night falling to sleep with a full tummy and protection of the family. During your time with them they had told you grand tales of their adventures, Geralt you learned was the fabled white wolf from the songs and Jaskier a bard who wrote said songs and sang to you every night. Geralt had helped you understand all your instincts explaining that you were true mates and that your fast heat was just natures way for you to bond and that it was ok to feel the way you did , the idea of pack was foreign to you and it had taken some time to finally click. But when it did you were more at peace with yourself with your new found understanding. You was relaxed. You were content. You were going to be sick. You quickly ran of into the bushes crouching followed closely by Geralt patting your back as you wretched bringing up your afternoon meal. That both males had insisted on so you could gain a your weight back and you had filled out, now supporting a healthy pink glow like the one you had admired Jaskier for.
"Oh no is she ok? I knew she shouldnt have ate that tart earlier. It was to rich for her stomach!" Jaskier snipped quick to pull the waterskin from roach hurrying to pass it to you having Geralt snatch it from him with a short grunt and held it to your lips letting you take sips. You gasped after having the drink the wiped you mouth with the back of your hand.
"No I'm fine, it was ok, not sure what that was it came out of nowhere" Geralt stared intently at you then leaned forward taking a deep breath in his nose under your ear then pulled back with a groan then grinned wider then you'd ever seen. He laughed sweeping you up off your feet cradling you against placing kisses all across your face tickling your cheeks as his stubble rubbed lightly, Jaskier watched then quickly put it all together laughing running his hands through his hair.
"Geralt whats going on? what are you doing? put me dooown I don't want to be sick again." you whined as he slowly rocked you to and fro
"That's not an option I'm afraid.... Oh god.... My beautiful little mate....Sweet omega... Your pupped" you blinked not sure what he had said at first then your face dropped into shock.
"Wh-what? but I-you said we would have known by now...Th-that it would be a short pregnancy...five months Its been two surely I'd be showing? or that sickness would have started earlier" you were very confused Geralt held you with one arm placing his hand on your tummy, you'd admit that you were larger then when you'd met but they had been strict on your diet wanting you to gain a few pounds. Jaskier walked closer looking at you with awe. Pups. His pups in an omega. He couldn't believe it. Tears welled but he fought them back with a deep shuddering breath. Clearing his throat.
"Well with how skinny you were it'd be easy to miss, we have been trying to fatten you up." he reasoned Geralt hummed in agreement before continuing, still moving across you lower abdomen pressing lightly. It was hard, taught and defiantly bulging slightly but small however that could be due to a beta father, betas produced less pups at once but resulted in larger pups at birth, an alpha litter could be up to four pups at around five to six pounds at birth. Beta's normally had one at six to eight pounds. Pregnancy was shorter for omegas but varied depending on the father and litter size could be anything from five the eleven months. He took a deep breath.
"Yes and the sickness delay could be your body trying to give as much the the pups, you couldn't afford to be sick taking away the nutrition with how under weight you were" His only true concern was that he couldn't hear a heart beat, but he hadn't been trying to hear one he stopped trying a few weeks ago. You were placed on your feet contemplating their answers. Geralt knelt before you pressing his ear against your stomach hushing you and Jaskier as he listened. His eyes widened glancing at Jaskier who waited with baited breath, tense trying not to be to excited in case the worse should happen. You felt Geralt release a breath nodding once to Jaskier who flew over to you trying to place a hand on your tummy pulling back as he near lost a finger as Geralt snapped at him. You placed a slow hand in Geralts hair pulling him to look up at you. he gazed up at you his eyes full of unshed tears yet he blinked them back.
"One, a single pup their heart is quiet but strong. Fast. They are right here.... You did it... My beautiful girl you did it." he finished tilting leaving a light kiss on the small barely noticeable swell. standing up he yanked Jaskier in for a hug then bent him down pressing his ear so he could listen. Smiling the whole time. Proud his pack was growing.
In the following Months you had noticed a change. Geralt was pushing you all on faster his instincts driving him to have his pack home before the birth seemingly more and more desperate as your belly swelled faster than you though possible now looking very pregnant, heavy and round. Geralt shivered everytime he glanced at you , filled with pride, warmth that spread thoughout him you were glowing there was also something else , he had been territorial coming to blows with Jaskier more times than you could count. It upset you, how the once close pair seemed to be at odds with one another you caught in the middle, tho Geralt was your mate this was Jaskier's pup you had the unyielding urge to be close to him, scent him and have him coddle you and the unborn. Geralt chased him away each time occasionally out of camp completely. Anything could set it off  like handing you something you dropped as you could no longer bend down to reach it or helping you get your boots on or helping you get up. Once Jaskier had tried to help you climb on to roach you nearly slid off the other side and Geralt had nearly ripped him a new one it took you hours to talk him down. Literately his steel sword was drawn when you nearly hit the floor. You whimpered lying on your side it was night and you was tucked up between Geralt and a thick tree with dense bushes at its base, he had begun to place you tucked up like this at night he wanted you to have a nest each night. You winced moving from side to side rolling this way and that huffing you couldn't get comfy. You groaned being pregnant wasn't easy even for an omega, the past two days your back had gotten much worse cramping, you cringed you were only four and a half months gone Geralt said that you would most likely have another eight weeks or so because Jaskier was a beta  'great another Eight weeks of this' you huffed again lying still your mind wandered you was concerned your pup hadn't moved since yesterday morning , normally being near Jaskier encouraged them to be lively but it hadn't worked. Grimacing as your back hurt which wasn't anything knew you got up onto all fours slowly crawling form behind Geralt around him settling to lay near Jaskier pulling his hand from his side placing it on your little one....Nothing.. you whimpered worry wracked your body something felt wrong, different. You remained beside Jaskier hopeing that it would coax some indication that your pup was ok. You breathed through the aching twitches in your back trying to drift off in to sleep. Just as your eyes closed you heard him. Geralt. Eyes blazing as he scrambled up looking for you. You shivered and shrunk as he found you laying holding Jaskier's palm to your swollen tummy. He snarled stalking to you making to grab you away from the beta, you sat up and flinched as he reached out for you. Having enough, exhausted and upset.
"NO! Enough please alpha! enough, Something is wrong! their not moving I want him to feel his pup the get them moving I don't like them being so still please" Geralt hissed through his fangs angry as his eyes saw you frightened clutching at the Betas hand holding it flush an still. You called the pup Jaskier's. He didn't deserve it. It was HIS. The pup should move for him, not the beta the alpha. HE was the alpha. He seethed
"B-but he cant protect it!! I can protect it...I DO!.. IT'S MINE- I TOLD HIM TO PUT IT THERE!! BUT IT'S MINE!!!! YOU'RE MY MATE!! MINE!! NOT HIS MY OMEGA!" you shook at his words his shouting had woke Jaskier who was now quivering beside you. Geralt's breathing was labored reaching again for you he stopped short as the both of you ducked as if expecting to be hit. He looked at his hands lowering them backing away glancing at the both of you. What was happening to him?.  His pack frightened of him. He who had vowed to protect them. They cowered before him. His mate and brother. He stared noting a small wet patch below you. He had frightened you that much? he felt disgusted with himself turning to lie away from you both. You looked up slowly at him instantly feeling heart broken at the look of despair on his face. You nudged Jaskier motioning him to help you up. He did helping you up stopping as you cried out a sharp tug in your tummy forcing you back down to your knees huffing that was painful. You gripped Jaskier's hand tight.
"Wh-whats wrong? please is every-Are you ok? shit!"
"G-Geralt could you please?" Jaskier called desperately supporting you a quick glance at the alpha showed him lying a good distance, faced the opposite way he was brooding lost in his own thoughts ashamed. Jaskier soothed you helping you kneel seeing the wet spot through seeping through your skirts. You winced cupping your belly and cramping back. Jaskier panicked unable to pull away from you remarkably strong grip, you stared at him fear in your eyes as your stomach clenched tightly. It- you couldn't it wasn't even five months yet, you were- could you be loosing it? is that why you hadn't felt anything? you sobbed into your hand. NO!. You'd failed. Failed your alpha, your pack and yourself. you curled over head pressed to the dirt as your stomach was hard and twitching below your hand.
"GERALT! ALPHA?! HELP SOMETHING IS WRONG!" with Jaskier's calling him alpha snapped his attention, the bard didnt call him that often, normally when he was scared wanting reassurance, it happend when he fell into his baser instincts. Geralt rolled over panicked not even getting up he through his body hands and knees scrabbling across to your crumpled form. He forgot his previous despair now on high alert he sniffed around you as you withered shoulders moving with your sobs. He held out a hand placing it on Jaskier, comforting trying to ease his panic. He looked not sensing anything, he gripped your waist sliding you a little checking the moist earth below you no blood that was good, - he cut himself short, you'd said it hadn't moved he stilled.No no no no. His blood turned to ice in his veins it hadn't- couldn't have....You was to far gone!...You couldn't loose it now, fate couldn't be so cruel!. He closed his eyes hushing you desperately, Jaskier following his train of thought placed a gentle hand to your mouth trying to contain your Broken sobs stroking your hair and whispering reassuring you that it would be ok. You was to far gone, already mourning for the life you believed you'd lost, to wrapped up in your thoughts to hear anything going on around you. Concentrating all his efforts into listening Geralt lowered down by your bloated belly pressing lightly against it, hoping to hear that sweet sound he sighed when he heard a steady rhythm a heart beat so the pup was fine just- was it lower? OH SHIT he growled quickly jumping up taking you with him you whimpered as your body was moved yelping as your back cramped shivering as the pain soared through all of you nerves you could see as well as feel the muscles moving manipulating your pup around but you was unsure why. the bard followed anxiously
"Ge-Geralt?is it?"
"Jaskier go get the blankets from roach quick we need a nest it- she's- its coming!" Jaskier blinked frozen then began stuttering panicking. What?.
"NOW JASKIER!" he barked out snapping the bard out of it as he made his way back to the tree you had originally  nodding to the floor Jaskier spread out the blankets you had been collecting the past week each town and village you added to your collection. Some he rolled up to prop you against and others he haphazardly plopped here and there to be move as and when. You sighed as Geralt placed you on them you panted sweating feeling as if you were going to pass out form the pain.
"Geralt -is? are they ok? did I loose it I'm sorry I-" he cut you off kissing your tears.
"no no you didn't!.....You haven't lost them, they are coming now, early but healthy I can hear it" you flinched. Early? you- it was happening here? now? crying as another pain pulled your body tight. Jaskier ran back over with the water skin bowl and cloth fumbling with them pouring some water into the bowl soaking the cloth Geralt pushed up your skirts tugging you didn't have anything underneath due to your size you'd grown out of them. Jaskier bent one leg placing it beside his thigh as Geralt  held the other in the same fashion. You tilted your head back crying low as you realized just how low your pup had managed to get in such a small amount of time ,you felt uncomfortable full ,as they now sat just at your pelvis.
"I-I need to- Ahh!" you tried telling them that you needed to push, the urge was overwhelming as your body acted on its own digging your feet below you trying to ground yourself gasping as much air as you could before another pain hit holding your breath gritting your teeth as your abdomen contracted trying to squeeze out your child followed swiftly by a back cramp. It was brutal as your own muscles swayed you back and forth you were frightened grabbing blindly eyes shut tight as another wave hit you.
"sshh push if you need to" Jaskier placed your hand between his wincing as you dug your nails into his skin but kept quiet moving to dab your head and face with the cloth. You sighed at the cool water being wiped across you, a small relief. Before you was rushed into another quick contraction bareing down pushing again. Geralt placed a hand on either thigh pressing them further apart then moved his hand to where the pup now rested lower then a few seconds ago.
"Alpha? please." he froze your voice was strained and weak he moved closer kissing your head. Geralt was at a loss, there was nothing he could do but reassure you, he nodded to Jaskier.
"It's low get the knife and cord" he quickly grabbed the items dipping it in the water to clean it, the small blade curved maybe 3 inches with a tiny glyph carved onto it, protection Geralt had spent a day on it marking it perfectly, this was bought specifically for this moment. You screamed curling forward with the contraction sliding down flat on your back widening your feet arching as you felt a heavy pressure pass though your pelvis you pushed with all your might shouting loud into the night feeling a burning stretch before nothing...Your body relaxed you all but melted as your child vacated you lifting your head looking down taking deep gasping breaths. There was silence Jaskier gasped watching as Geralt froze holding the tiny pink child not knowing what to do, his face was one of awe, seeing that Geralt had Blanked. The beta jumped into action holding the soft thin cord around the umbilical cord pulling tight before severing the connection between the two of you suddenly there was a cry, loud and strong. Relief washed across the camp smiles all round, he sat back bending his knees resting his elbows holding his head tears streaming down his face. Alive, it was alive. You weeped at the sound. Your child was safe. Your body shook the aftermath of all the stress pain and adrenaline.
"Girl...Its a girl" Geralt whispered
"Ha you can tell with all the fuss she's making, defiantly a female" Jaskier quipped still rubbing his eyes leaning over to see his daughter. You watched holding your breath. Girl you had a little girl you couldn't look away as Geralt tilted the pup for him to see then stopped choosing to instead pass the tiny Child to her father then moved pulling a small blanket they worked together tucking it around her fretting over how covered and warm she would be. You sighed in relief any animosity that there had built was gone which was a load off mind ,your heart melted at the sight it would seem your daughter would have two fathers. Geralt smiled leaning up over you kissing you deeply then heaved you to sit up letting you lean against his chest. Jaskier moved up on your other side with the child. Tiny she was so small, smaller then you'd expected. Tears streamed down your face as you leaned your face against Geralt's chest he stroked your hair back kissing your neck
"So good omega... I'm so proud of you...Shes perfect...And healthy.... you've made me so happy" he was whispering into your ear but you couldn't make sense of his words . You was enraptured with your daughter, she was perfect you moved to hold her. Jaskier quickly placed her in your waiting arms as her cries died down then moved to the water bowl holding it out for Geralt who took the cloth wringing it out then began wiping her cherub face gently. She opened her eyes slowly unfocused eyes glancing here and there as you moved your dress wanting to feed her. You wasn't sure how but you managed to get her to latch quickly. Geralt nodded happy that she was feeding.
"I-I'm sorry for earlier.... I don't know what happened but it will never happen again" his words were stern controlled as he glanced at his family. Never again. you looked from your pup to Geralt then Jaskier there was a somber air that fell across you.
"You better start thinking of names. I don't have any I thought I had months still" you said dismissively. They looked at one another. Then you
"Who?" you smiled at Jaskier's small question
"Well my father named me and my siblings, so I thought it right for her fathers to name her so you best agree." the statement was designed to show exactly where you stood on the family dynamics for your child. Geralt looked stumped.
"But she is Jaskier's he should-" you shook your head at him
"No she is ours yours, mine and Jaskier's , she wouldn't be here if you hadn't allowed Jaskier to help. And if I remember correctly you held him still each time." they both scoffed before discussing names as you looked back down to the baby as she closed her eyes still latched on unaware of just how protected and cherished she was.
Taglist @havenoffandoms @ayamenimthiriel
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thetomorrowshow · 4 years
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Slower Than Words Ch. 4
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Another week, another chapter! This one’s a bit more intense than the last two have been, so be careful. Just let me know if I missed anything in the content warnings!
cw: food, suicidal thoughts and measures (in the form of a lack of self-care), starving oneself (as an act of defiance)
~
Time passed. Days, weeks, perhaps even months. Slower than either of them would have liked, but it did pass. Virgil sometimes laughed at the thought of someone watching them communicate—the precise spelling had begun to evolve into complex combinations of squiggles and pats, a sort of shorthand, their fingers blurs as they spoke the language they were inventing. It was slower than speaking loud, and probably slower than sign language, but much faster than the spelling of every individual letter that they'd begun with. The two men were connected in some strange way, almost knowing the other's meaning before it was spoken.
Every night before falling asleep, both would flick the each others' wrists (their sign for 'pay attention'), then press their knuckles into each others' arm. Virgil wasn't quite sure what it meant, but for him it meant a mix of 'good night' and 'I'll be there when you wake up'.
Then one day, Patton was not there when he woke up.
Virgil tried to refrain from freaking out. Patton was probably just in the sectioned-off area, everything would be fine. Virgil took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself enough that he could hear over the pounding of his own heart. “Patton?” he called out, knowing the other man couldn't hear him. A clang! shot through the air; Virgil leaped out of bed and drew his fists up to his face, rocking back on his heels. Fight-or-flight had kicked in, and fight won out. As he waited, though, nothing happened. No familiar arms pulled his hands down, silently whispering words of comfort. No rough hands grabbed him and dragged him away. Nothing.
Moments later, his heart slowed slightly and Virgil realized that the noise that had scared him so badly was the chute opening to drop food in. And Patton still wasn't there, Patton who normally woke him up wasn't there to hold him and let him know that everything would be all right and with a shock, instead of blind panic, Virgil noticed his face heating.
Did he . . . did he have a crush on Patton?
Now we don't have time to unpack all of that, his mind helpfully supplied. Virgil snorted before striding toward the curtain in the corner, waving around it before eventually pulling it back and stepping in.
Patton wasn't there.
“Patton?” Virgil called again, his walking no much less steady than a few moments before. He checked the spare bed, then walked the room in a sweep. Nothing, there was nothing, Virgil was all alone again after months of having someone to hold him and he couldn't handle it. There was a tray of food on the floor, but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything, a pit of anxiety boiling in his stomach. After sweeping the room three more times, Virgil curled up on the still-warm bed, choking out a few despairing sobs. He was alone, he was all alone and soon the rough people with mean voices would grab him and drag him away to that room, that room where—
Virgil wrenched his mind away from that train of thought, knowing that the blurry memories of the room would only scare him more. He had to keep a clear head, figure out how to get out of here and save Patton.
So, naturally, Virgil pulled the blanket over his head and sobbed.
-
Hours passed, and still Virgil didn't come out. He didn't know why; some instinctive part of him insisting that he stay hidden, perhaps, but it wasn't like the blanket was stopping him from seeing any threats. If anything, it was muffling his hearing. It didn't seem to matter, though, as he was left alone all day and night. At intervals he knew he should be expecting, the metal flap at the base of the door would unlock and make a loud noise as a food tray was pushed in or pulled out, but no one ever entered the room.
Virgil never got up to eat, though he knew he should. It gave him some sense of satisfaction to know that they wanted him to eat, and it was in his power to refuse it. Hopefully he was making more of a statement than throwing a fit.
“I'll eat if you bring Patton back,” he croaked out, pulling the blanket down enough for his head to pop out. There had to be a camera somewhere in this room, even if Patton had never mentioned one. He cleared his throat. “Seriously, that's the only way you're gonna get me to eat. Bring him back.”
Nothing. The thought struck Virgil that maybe they didn't care about whether or not he ate, but he shoved it away. If they didn't care, they'd stop giving him food. Another thought—what if Patton escaped? Virgil threatening his own health would just make them look for Patton harder, and he didn't want Patton back here.
Right?
Well, no. He wanted Patton free, yes. But . . . if he wasn't free, then couldn't he be here? Just thinking that made Virgil feel guilt tear at his insides. Of course he would give up Patton if he had the chance to be free! Of course he would!
Virgil physically shook his head, then pulled the blanket back over himself. He was going to sleep, because then he could escape his own head. Patton usually was there to help if he was anxious, but before. . . .
Before was so long ago. What had he done before? He'd normally just . . . dealt with it, hadn't he? He'd had Patton there to work through it with him for so long, he could barely imagine doing it by himself again.
In time, Virgil fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning with nobody to ground himself to.
-
Virgil was hungry.
Nine meals had passed since Patton had disappeared. That was a full three days, and Virgil was beginning to wonder if he would be able to hold out until Patton came back. He'd been drinking cupped handfuls of water from the tiny sink behind the curtain, but his legs were growing too weak to walk across the room to it. The most recent time—several hours previous—he'd fallen halfway there and crawled the rest of the way, pulling himself up onto the toilet to even reach the faucet. Then he'd dragged himself back to the bed, forgoing the easier task of resting on the closer, unused bed for the one he and Patton had shared.
Come to think of it, why had they shared a bed? The mattresses were twin-sized, there was no way that had been comfortable.
Again, Virgil weighed his options. They hadn't pulled away the meal tray yet, so he could roll out of bed one more time and get something to eat, keep his strength up. More importantly, though, what was the point?
Without Patton, Virgil had nothing. No hope. No eyesight. No one to talk to. No one to hold him when his nightmares got particularly bad. Absolutely no one, and Virgil was a nobody, so it all worked out. Whether or not Patton came back, Virgil was certain they were watching him. Studying him. Whatever they did to his eyes, they did it on purpose and now they were watching to see what he'd do. Well, it was too bad for them, because Virgil would rather die than let them win. In all honesty, he'd rather die than do a lot of things, but this one was the most important at the moment. So they thought they could take Patton away from him? He was going to take himself away from them.
His mind made up, Virgil rolled over to face the wall, despite the fact that being turned away from the door caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. It didn't matter anyway, he couldn't see any signs of an attacker. Besides, he didn't care who came in unless it was Patton.
Die out of spite? Virgil was pretty sure he could do that.
-
Virgil's plan to die out of spite was cut short the next morning, about an hour after the tenth meal was pushed in.
He'd been seriously reconsidering his death, but Virgil was nothing if not stubborn. Not to mention he wasn't sure he even had the strength to get out of bed by now. He was contemplating what he'd say to Roman if he were here, when a loud noise roused him from his daydream.
A thud and a cry met his ears, then the same slamming noise as before—surely the door closing. The voice was recognizable too, but Virgil couldn't let his hopes get up; many times before, Patton had laughed wheezily, as if he wasn't sure that a laugh was supposed to have sound (which was probably on the nose), and even more often, he'd made unconscious noises of exclamation. That was his voice, the sound Patton would make if he were thrown to the ground.
Thrown to the ground—?!
Virgil rolled out of bed, almost forgetting his weakness, and crawled in the direction of the hitching breaths until his reaching fingers met fabric. Quicker than he knew he could move, Virgil found the person's arm and flicked his wrist, then pressed his knuckles up against it. It had to be Patton, he'd know that arm anywhere, and sure enough, the person's fingers traced a light P into Virgil's arm.
Virgil realized, suddenly, that he was crying, babbling Patton's name over and over again as he pulled Patton into his lap, freezing when the other man hissed in pain.
You okay? Virgil spelled onto Patton's arm, hoping it was nothing too bad. There was a long moment in which Patton didn't move, and Virgil held his breath.
Put stuff in my ears. Hurts.
Virgil let out a choked cry, then hugged Patton as gently as he could. At that moment, he was reminded of exactly how jelly-like his bones felt. He reached out, and as he assumed, the tray with breakfast was just beside them.
Virgil ate slowly, supporting Patton so that he could eat as well, though he claimed to not feel like it. Virgil made sure to leave half even so.
“I've got you,” Virgil muttered as he helped Patton to the bed. “Don't worry, we'll make it through this. We've got each other. We can survive.”
Virgil didn't know if he was talking to Patton (who couldn't hear him), or himself, but it didn't really matter. They were together. Everything was so much better than it had been alone, and everything was going to be okay.
~
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Think Twice Part 8
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“I am going to make sure you never even think of touching my girl ever again. I am going to make sure you wish you never even met her.”
Seth Rollins X OC X Jon Moxley/ Dean Ambrose
Tag Team: @sithstatlander​ @xladyxfatex @awkward-teenaged-girl@steadysuitcasepurseranch @themansbliss@katelynirwinhemmingsclifordhood@strwbrryshrtckexo @bluedragonfly678 @luleelurah @mohawkmama @foreverthenerdprincess @aujenaeblaze @missnena2194 @suicidepanda07 @kelseyann2002 @princessminjikwon @nerdgirlsblog @multi-stan-kpop @redz0mbie @thebornalpha @acon1120 @jonsmoxley @dayasvalkyrie @goddessofhardrock @1dluver13xx @vampirepixi @dietwrestling @asktvhead @moxslilangel2020 @chynagirl13​ @new-zealand-chic​
Jon
I could feel something was wrong with Aria. I finished in the garage faster than I thought. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Just had a lot of callouts. We had to close an hour later than we normally did on a Saturday, but Cody did brighten it with extra pay for the couple hours I was there. 
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I always had this feeling when something was going to happen to Aria. When I was away from her, I did my best to shake it off, but even then it was hard.
I tried calling her phone, but it went straight to voicemail. It was odd. Minus Seth, I thought we had a great night. Did something happen between then? I dialed another number in my phone. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something. What is going on with Aria?” 
Alexa sighed into the other end, “You aren’t going to be happy.” 
Aria
I knew I should be pushing him off. I had just had sex with Jon. It wasn’t right to be doing it like this. The problem was the power that Seth had on my mind. He could twist my feelings and control my body to do as he wished. He knew my body to well to get away with this. I closed my eyes and let my fingertips fall down his abs. I wrapped my legs around his waist pulling him closer. I saw a smirk appear on his face. He knew he had won. I was letting him win. 
His hands undid my jeans slipping them from my hips. He pushed me back onto the desk. He ran a finger across my panties. “Were you trying to pretend you didn’t want this as bad as I do, but yet you are soaking wet?” He said with an eyebrow raised. He pushed his finger in between his lips. 
“It just isn’t right after my date,” I said biting my bottom lip as I watched him get on his knees. His hands pressed against my thighs as he spread them. I could feel his hot breath against my aching pussy. He brought his teeth down to my thong and pulled it down. I could feel his teeth scraping against my soft flesh. My body had a mind of its own as it arched to the touch. It wanted more. I couldn’t deny that in a way, I wanted more. I hated to admit it, but Jon and I weren’t exclusive to each other. It wouldn’t be wrong to sleep with Seth. This was only wrong because he cheated on me. He hurt me. That was enough to put the fight back in me. Once, he came back up from taking off my thong, I stopped his face with my hands. I knew what he was heading for. I wasn’t about to allow him the satisfaction just yet. “Stop, you...you hurt me. You don’t get to just come back and act like that didn’t sting.”
“I made a mistake.” He sighed as he got up from the floor. He cupped the side of my face. 
“You keep saying that. You keep saying you love me, but you never show it unless you want this. How am I supposed to know that you mean what you say?” 
“Simple, Miss. Aria,” his other hand grazed the inside of my thigh again. His hand went from my cheek to my hair as he gripped a chunk into his hands. “You are the only one, I will ever make love to.” He said his breath on my neck this time. He sent shivers down my spine. “Just give me another chance to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve. I wish you could see what you mean to me. Aria, you have always been my light. The reason I have to keep going.  I miss you, Aria.” 
“I miss you too,” I confessed. I really did miss him. I knew I shouldn’t. Maybe that was what drew me closer to him. “I just…” I moved his hand. “Being with Jon made me realize that I do deserve better. If I would take you back, I think you need more than sweet words.” I told him with a playful smile. 
He placed on my chest and pushed back down on the desk. His arm wrapped around my hips as he got back down onto his knees. “Oh, Aria, you are in for it now.” He spoke. I bit my lip. What did that mean? It didn’t take long for me to find out for his tongue went straight to my heated core. He started off slow with soft licks. His tongue gently grazed against my clit. He kept this up for a little bit longer. He slipped a finger into my core before wrapping his lips around my clit. My eyes rolled back into my head. He slipped a second digit in, curling them perfectly to my g-spot. There was one thing that Seth topped. We had been together so long, he knew my body better than I did. He could make my body turn into jello almost instantly. My legs shook around his shoulder as I got closer to my high. He let go of my clit with a pop. He moved his hand so his thumb could perfectly reach my clit as he rubbed it. He got up from his knees and leaned over me. His long black hair encasing me in it. “I am going to show you how a man who is madly in love fucks.” He told me before he began to suck on my neck. He was right back on my sweet spot.  
“Seth, please,” I begged. 
He smirked against my neck. “Your begging is like music to my ears.” He pulled his fingers out and got off the top of me. He flipped me over so I was bending over the desk. 
“If you want to make love, don’t you need to be able to see me?” I asked him. I didn’t mind this position. It was one of my favorites. We had also never done it in his office before. I had always been scared of getting caught. Lust had kicked that fear out the window. 
“Baby girl, this is only just the beginning.” He said as he slipped his manhood deep inside me. 
Jon
“What is going on?” I asked Alexa as I walked into her apartment. I didn’t bother ringing the doorbell. After how our conversation ended, I knew she would be expecting me. 
“Look, Aria said somethings before I came home that I was hoping,” She paused for a moment. “I was hoping she wasn’t serious about them. Apparently, she was.” She took a deep breath. “She said something about Seth still being in her head even after having a great night with a guy like you.” 
My heart stopped. “What do you mean a guy like me? Is that supposed to insult me or something?” 
She shook her head, “No, it isn’t, but you are very sweet and kind. Seth also has some weird hold on her. I think she believes she needs him or that he is end game. I don’t know. I was worried that it might be too soon for us to be doing this. We should have waited another month. 
I shook my head, “He would have gotten her back. He would have more leeway if I wasn’t around.” 
“Either way, she’s at his gym right now. I tracked her phone location down when she wasn’t here. I know she wants closure to be able to move on, but he isn’t going to give it to her.” 
I shook my head, balling my fists. “This motherfucker. His hold was a lot tighter than I thought he had.” 
“Well, after you left and he took care of her after the accident, it got a lot tighter. I tried to warn you when you talked about coming back for her that this wouldn’t be easy.”
“Love isn’t supposed to be easy. I love Aria. I made a promise to myself and her that outweighs any promise Seth made to her father. I thought that running away would have been the best for her. It has become a lot clearer that it was the worst idea yet.” 
“I tried to tell you that when she was in a coma. You let your emotions get the best of you. We all know what Seth is capable of. Aria needs to get out before something really bad happens. That’s the only reason I am helping you. For my best friend to have a chance at a good life. I know you will take care of her, so don’t screw this up.” She told me as she got off the couch and walked to the kitchen. She let her words hang in the air for a couple of moments before she spoke again. “I don’t mean march down to Seth’s office and demand to see her. I think we both know that is a bad idea, but I think you got to start playing dirtier.” 
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 175
175
Laying in the hospital bed, Lance felt like he had every machine known to mankind around him. He hadn’t passed out, but he wished he had as his pants were pulled down and he was examined. Two IV lines were running through his system, drugs mixed with the blood to halt the labour. Nurses checking on him every half hour. Beside him in the visitors chair sat Shiro. Shiro explaining that he was there because Keith, Pidge and Hunk were helping the nursing staff with their systems, Keith being the muscle that Shiro couldn’t be with his busted arm and neatly dressed head-wound.
Lance wanted to reach out and comfort Shiro who must have been desperately worried about Curtis. Lance was worried and he was on the fuzzy feel good drugs to keep him weakened lest his ego have a fit. Holding Shiro’s good hand, Lance rubbed his thumb back and forth over the hunter’s knuckles. Occasionally Shiro would squeeze his hand, but they’d remained relatively quiet. Lance hoping Keith would be released and running back to him, because he was sure his boyfriend would be better comfort than him to Shiro. All he could do was offer that empty sentiment “that everything would be okay”. The words most people didn’t actually want to hear because it only served to drive the situation home harder.
Hours must have passed before finally Pidge and Hunk were allowed in. His stomach exposed, covered in a band of sensors that monitored the twins condition. Rushing over to him, Hunk hugged him tightly
“You had us worried”
“I know. I had me worried too”
“Don’t ever do that again”
“I don’t want to. I’d be quite happy restarting today”
“You and me both. Are you going to be okay?”
“They seemed to have stopped the bleeding and the labour... I’m on drugs”
His voice was slurred, and Lance was pretty sure he’d drooled on himself. Pulling back, Hunk gave him a wobbly smile
“I can tell”
“I was only talking to Keith today about I don’t think I’ve ever been high. Like high high. But I think I have”
“I think you are right now. What happened?!”
“We pulled Shiro out?”
Pidge appeared beside Hunk
“He means with Keith”
Lance blinked, Shiro sighing
“He’s busy right now with the staff”
Something went down between the three of them that Lance missed
“I need a moment”
Shiro got to his feet, Lance frowning at the man leaving. Maybe he was going to check on Keith? And give him sometime with Pidge and Hunk? Or he could have been overwhelmed because Curtis wasn’t back yet? He didn’t realise he’d said these things out loud until Hunk drew his attention again
“How do you feel?”
“Tired. Like super tired... but I can’t sleep until Keith comes back”
Next thing he knew he was being hugged by Hunk again. It took a Herculean effort to lift his hand up to his best friend’s back
“You and Pidge did so good today. I’m so proud of you two. You’re like the greatest people ever”
“We should have worked faster...”
“I’m super duper sure you worked as fast as you could, because you guys are awesome saucem”
“Dude...”
Hunk started crying. Lance understood it’d been a long arse day for his best friends
“It’s okay... I’m okay”
“We saw Keith collapse and they took you off and then they took him and we weren’t allowed to see you”
Hold up... what? Something happened to Keith? When did that happen?”
“Keith collapsed?”
“We don’t know what’s going on. No one will tell us”
Deep from his memory Lance dredged out
“He was helping you?”
“Hunk, Shiro mustn’t have told him”
Pidge’s voice was soft, nearly drowned out by the way Lance’s heart started racing. Some machine going off at his elevated heart rate
“What do you mean he collapsed?!”
“Lance...”
“No. No... where’s Keith... where’s Keith?!”
Trying to struggled against the wires, nursing staff came in. Pidge and Hunk forced away from him as the nurses words were lost to his panic. Keith hadn’t been hurt. He’d been running around all day. This had to be a mistake
“Keith?! Keith!”
“Lance, you need to calm down”
Lance tried to tear away from the nurse, but couldn’t go anywhere in his drugged up state
“Keith!”
“Lance, you’ll bring labour on again if you keep fighting. Keith isn’t here right now”
“No. No... where is he?! Where is he?!”
He needed Keith. Keith to hold his hand and listen to his drugged up babble as they waited patiently for Coran and Allura to bring Curtis back up. Something pricked his arm, Lance growling as it did. Nurses were holding down his arm as his body bucked
“Keith!”
*
Holding Keith’s hand, Lance was the first one allowed to see him. Coran had no idea the chaos unfolding above him, he and Allura had “quite a time” convincing the demon to leave the physical realm. Apparently it’d become attached to them and was very reluctant to leave, causing chaos that required some demon overload named Bob to be summoned to help deal with it. Whatever. Lance didn’t care. Sitting in the wheelchair, he held Keith’s hand. Keith had some kind of subdural haematoma. They’d rushed him into theatre. He’d over heard the nurses talking about the prognosis, Keith’s left pupil blown, and they were unsure when the bleed began.
With a bandage around his head, and a tube in his throat, they were keeping Keith sedated. Like they’d kept him sedated for a full 8 hours of forced rest. Curtis was unconscious, though Coran assured them all he’d be in tip top shape once he woke and had a good months worth of rest. Nothing had gone right. Or at least that was the feeling Lance had. Seeing Keith like this, he didn’t know how he didn’t know. Like, he was a vampire, blood was his thing, but Keith had been running around with this time bomb in his head. Popping the breaks on the wheelchair on, Krolia let out a broken “oh, god”. Lance felt the same way. By the time Coran and Allura had returned with Curtis, Pidge had contacted Krolia, who’d contacted the few Blades in town, who’d then taken over things with Pidge’s help to bring all systems back on time until Coran returned nearly 26 hours after the summoning began at close to 1am the previous morning.
Lance felt so fucking shitty. He’d been so consumed by his own personal panic he hadn’t seen the signs. Keith had been complaining of a headache for a few days, but he just thought it was not enough sleep. Not some brain bleed. The prognosis terrified him. He didn’t know if Keith was going to wake up. Or if when he did, he’d be his Keith. All he really knew was about strokes. Though along the same lines, they were very different.
“Lance, he’s going to be okay”
How could he be okay? This was in his brain! Keith went above and beyond for him, only to be still sleeping off the surgery and anaesthesia. Hooked up to IV’s and oxygen, his boyfriend would have matched the number of machines Lance had waiting for him back in his room. Coming around the chair, Krolia squatted down in front of him, taking his face in her hands. His face might be facing her, but his eyes were on Keith
“This is Keith. He’s strong. There’s no way my stubborn son is going to miss seeing his twins growing up”
Hadn’t it been enough losing Mami? Not Keith... He couldn’t lose Keith. He refused to. He was selfish and he needed him. He couldn’t go back to a world without Keith in it
“Are you in pain?”
His heart was breaking, but that wasn’t what Krolia wanted to know. Numbly he shook his head
“Okay. Coran said only a short visit today”
He knew that. Absolutely no walking around or stressful activities. Coran feared Lance’s body had started trying to absorbed the twins from the threat the demon posed to him. That rather than let the twins be food for a rampaging demon, it was better to self abort and try again later. It disgusted him that his ego could flare so much, think it so superior, then betray all that false bravado and act like the twins weren’t the shining hope in Keith’s and Lance’s future. Shiro had cried and cried when Coran was explaining things to him. With no Mami there to hold him, or hold his hand, Shiro seemed to have appointed himself the spot. His future-brother-in-law apologising, though he had no reason too. Promising he’d take care of him. It wasn’t his place to make those sorts of promises. He wasn’t Keith. He didn’t automatically “inherit” Lance like some unclaimed baggage in the case of Keith’s untimely demise.
“How are my two favourite patients doing?”
Coran had agreed to give them a little bit of time for a private visit. Lance felt he needed to rework his limit as they’d barely been in there all of thirty seconds
“I think Lance is tired. Maybe we should get him back to his room? You can come back and see Keith after you’ve had some more rest, sweetie”
Krolia could go be tired by herself. And who was this “sweetie”. Krolia didn’t call people “sweetie”! He’d be happy to be forgotten here so he could stay with Keith
“That’s to be expected. That ego of yours took quite the unexpected bruising. To think one demon could cause that much chaos. The whole floor will need to be remodelled. We’re very lucky indeed that we finally convinced it to leave, nasty little blighters. Threw the whole complex into lockdown, spread its form through the halls in some kind of temper tantrum. Impervious to normal weaponry. Don’t you worry, we gave it a good thumping”
Krolia sighed heavily at Coran. Neither of them cared about the demon not when Curtis would be okay and Keith was like this
“That’s all well and fine, but what about my son?”
“Ah! Right you are. Number two required surgery, as you know he had quite the nasty little bleed. We’ve drained the bleed”
Lance’s ego has survived the first insult without being ruffled, but having Keith not called by his name. No. No way. Was that all Keith was? A fucking agent with a number and not a name?!
“He’s not “number two”! He’s Keith. You can at least use his goddamn name!”
Snapping at Coran, Krolia was the one who ended up yelled at in the face. The woman flinching a little, but Lance sincerely didn’t give two shits. Keith was better than being called by a damn number, even if the term was meant with love and endearment. Coran cleared his throat
“You’re right, Lance. I’m sorry. Keith is a valued member of VOLTRON, and a good man. Unfortunately, during the procedure there was a moment where his brain waves dipped. We are currently monitoring it, yet we have no way of knowing how okay he will be until he wakes up. There was some swelling, normally we wouldn’t medicate him in this manner when dealing with a bleed on the brain. I should be asking you if you feel anything...”
“He feels cold”
Keith’s hand was warm in his, but that warmth didn’t seem to radiate. He didn’t feel like death. He wasn’t shrouded in the bitterly cold air stealing feeling, but some of his natural warmth seemed be missing around the edges. He wanted to crawl up into Keith’s bed and cuddle him until Keith felt better. But Coran would never allow it
“You don’t mean...”
“No. Not like that... he’s not going to die. He’s not allowed to”
“Phew! You had me worried, boy. Let’s get you back to your room. We can come back by when Keith wakes up. I’ll take you back, Krolia, you may stay with Keith if you’d like”
“Thanks, Coran. Lance, I’ll let you know the moment Keith wakes”
That’s have to do. Protesting would only lead to sedation. He didn’t want to be sedated. Being held down and forced to sleep made him feel sick to his stomach. He’d rather be awake. Awake and waiting patiently for his boyfriend like a good little vampire.
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notimetoblog · 5 years
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Panic
Summary: Two little texts send your heart into a frenzy, and when the super soldier responsible for them doesn't reply, you just hope he’s still alive for him to hear exactly what you think of him. 
A/N: Hi hi!!! here’s a one shot for you guys!! I haven't posted one of these in a while so I truly hope you enjoy it! when I saw the texts online I knew I just had to write a fic around them for our favorite brunette super soldier lol. Thanks so much for reading!!
Link are being rude so if you’d like to read more of my stories search “stories by notimetoblog”
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You know panic. 
A failed parachute? You’ve experienced it and survived it. You thought that panic was enough to fill a lifetime. What could bring on more panic than freefalling from thousands of feet in the air with no means to break your fall? 
Surely nothing. 
Well, that’s what you had believed until you, again, lived and survived a mission gone wrong. Stupidly, you’d admit, you had turned off your comms to focus on the task at hand. Of course, this meant you missed all five of Steve’s attempts to warn you of previously unnoticed threats. To your defense, Steve really should do less talking over those things. Sure, he was lovely but having him in your ear for hours at a time was enough to drive anybody to the extreme.
The panic you experienced that time drew your blood cold. The unnoticed threats were pretty easily spotted when they were pointing guns at your face, each of the four men staring back at you more than ready to end you. Your instincts took over after that and the next thing you knew, you were being walked into the Quinjet a more than upset Steve again filling your ear with endless strings of words you just couldn’t and didn’t want to make out.
That panic you knew how to deal with. You knew once safe you could sit back, relax, and unwind.
But this current panic was beyond you.
You hold your phone in your cold hands, staring at the messages on the home screen.
Your ringer went off every night because if anybody enjoyed sleep, it was you. But that meant that you would wake up to voicemails, missed calls, and texts that were just waiting for you to get your day started. Nothing of importance was ever sent to your phone anyway. If there was an emergency, Steve had other ways to communicate them to you, and you knew he very much enjoyed getting to ring the alarms he had set up throughout your apartment. It was his form of payback for all the little things you did to him throughout the day.
This morning, though, you had not woken up to your usual texts, but to only two texts that were enough to make you want to scream.
Buck: I need advice (3:46 am)
Buck: never mind i already did the stupid thing (6:51 am)
For almost two hours Bucky had thought about doing something so incredibly stupid even he felt the need to call it that.
He often prided himself in his genius ideas, and sure, at times they had gotten you out of trouble. More often than not, though, those ideas resorted to more unorthodox methods than your basic training had provided you with. Still, no matter how stupid those ideas were, he always called them his ‘genius hacks.’
That time he had literally shot himself in the foot to create a distraction? Genius hack!
The time he threw Sam out of a window to get his wings working again? Genius hack!
So, Bucky accepting his idea was stupid meant this was bad.
This was so bad.
Your fingers press his name on your phone; normally you would chuckle at the picture of Bucky attached to his info, but not today.
It was past 8 am, by this time he could be on his way to another country. He could be hurt. He could be dead.
A ring, and then five more, and no response.
“My god,” you say, jumping out of your bed throwing on whatever clothes you find laying around.
You’re a mess, a complete and total mess, and it only gets worse after every time Bucky doesn’t answer your call.
You: Bucky I swear if you’re dead ill find some way to kill you again! And if you’re not… pick up THE PHONE!!!!!
You had a soft spot for him; everyone was aware. Something in you both just seemed to click, but that did not mean you wouldn’t let him have it when he did something reckless.
He would simply lay on the charm in response, using those stupid big blue eyes of his to melt away your frustration.
“You’re cute when you get all worked up,” he’d say, a smile on his lips that made your heart beat just a little bit faster. The jerk knew very well how to get his way.
He was an idiot, but one that you couldn’t help but be drawn to.
But not right now. Oh no. Right now, he was just the biggest idiot on the planet for disappearing like this.
You call again, crossing your fingers he would pick up, but no luck.
“He better be dead,” you find yourself saying while you rummage through the bag you had thrown on your couch after getting home late last night to find your house keys.
“I don’t think you mean that,” a very much alive Bucky says as you open the door to your apartment.
“You think this is funny?” you ask, letting him hear every bit of the worry that was consuming you only seconds ago.
“Just a little,” he replies, scrunching his nose, something you’d typically find adorable. But not today. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry,” he amends, feeling your door closing right in front of his face, choosing to stuff his left arm to stop you from closing it all the way.  “I should’ve answered your calls, but in my defense, I was a little busy doing something else.”
“What? The stupid thing you needed advice on. You’re on your own if you did something to Sam’s wings.”
“I could tell you a bit more about what I did, darling, if you’d let me in.”
“Don’t even try the whole ‘darling’ thing right now Barnes,” you scold him, “because it won’t work. You can’t just disappear like that.”
“I know,” his voice is soft, and you hate him for it. “But I can explain everything I promise. And I was only ‘missing’ for like 4 hours, most of which you were asleep for, so come on, sweetheart, let me in.”
You pierce your eyes at the pet name, making him chuckle.
“I said sweetheart, not darling,” he winks.
“It better be good, Barnes,” you reply with a groan, opening the door up for him all the way.
With a smile, he walks into your apartment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t take him walking past you as an opportunity to scan him for injuries.
Your eyes rake past his back, down to his legs, looking for any sign of pain. Just looking out for anything you might need to patch up or any limping, of course, nothing more. But its harder to tell if he’s got any blood on him or anything else you should worry about.
He’s wearing a black t-shirt, dark jacket, and black denim jeans. If there’s anything on them, you can’t tell in his all-black outfit.  
“I shouldn’t have called what I was thinking about stupid, really,” he began, causing your gaze to come back up to his face as he turns to look at you. “Because it’s not.”
“Another one of your genius hacks, huh,” you cross your arms wondering why you had even let yourself get so worked up from two little texts.
The answer was rather obvious, but still, it was better not to address it at the moment. It was better not to mess with a friendship that somehow managed to work despite both of your reckless attitudes.
“Not really,” he says, sitting down on the couch, hugging one of your throw pillows, a big fluffy white one. He would regret that later when he discovered how much it shed onto his dark jacket. But you’d take that as a tiny victory over him after the scare he gave you. “Had nothing to do with the job at all.”
“Then do enlighten me, Barnes,” you give him an eye roll, not ready to hear about whatever mess he had gotten himself into.
“Just call me Bucky, doll,” he says with a tiny pout, his eyes going wide- those stupid big blue eyes. “It means your mad at me when you call me Barnes, and if I’m honest, I don’t like the feeling.”
“I kinda am.”
“More relieved than mad, though, right? Cause I’m still alive.”
“Won’t be alive for much longer if you don’t talk.”
“Fine,” he laughs, and you curse yourself for finding it endearing, but it’s always lovely to hear him laugh. “It’s not something stupid, might be the smartest decision I’ve made in my life.”
“Oh my god,” you say in disbelief throwing another one of your pillows at him. “You jerk! What did you do to Sam?!”
“I didn’t do anything to him,” he says in between more laughs as he dodges everything you throw his way. “You need to stop that.”
In an instant, he’s up and has you backed up onto the door, hands pressed against your side.
“Sam is fine,” he says softly, now that he’s so close to you. “Probably still drooling.”
“Then what’d you do?”
“Well, I haven’t done it yet. That’s why I came here for.”
There was something new in his eyes. It was as if a new shade of blue swam in them, a shade that had never been seen before.
What on earth was he doing?
“You can let go of my hands now, Buck,” you say, trying your best to distract yourself from how close he was.
“Won't throw more pillows at me?”
“I ran out.”
“Breaks my heart that’s the only reason you won't throw them at me,” he chuckles, releasing his hold on your hands, partially, because for some reason he chooses to lace his fingers with yours.
And something in you screams because this may or may not be a dream you had a few nights ago- a dream you had pushed deep down, hoping it would never come back up again. And yet here it was.
“What’d you do?” you ask him again, hoping speaking through what you were feeling would be better than being drowned by it.
“I bought something,” he replies, his signature boyish grin on his lips but this time there’s something new; a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. “For you.”
“Really?” you pretend that those words did not just travel to your core and erupted into thousands of butterflies.
“See, it wasn’t stupid, really. It was a mistake to call it that, but I did need some advice because I’m not the best at this whole thing.”
“What thing?” you question, not missing how comfortable his hands feel around yours; how meant to be.
“Us.”
And there it was, the moment that had only been real in daydreams, the moment you absolutely knew would melt your heart.
“I bought you flowers,” he continues, letting his thumb drag slowly across the back of your hand. “They’re outside. I kinda panicked when you opened the door.”
“Flowers,” you hear yourself say, disbelief clear.
“I ran across the entire city, finding a place that opened early enough for me to get them as soon as possible. I ran into a shop owner around 6:30, she was only there that early to drop a few things, but I begged her to let me get something, anything. She must’ve felt bad because she let me inside.”
“You’ve been looking for flowers since 4 am?”
“I guess that part was stupid,” he laughs. “But I couldn’t wait! And I really started looking for places at 5.” There’s a tiny pause, and his face goes completely blank. “You like flowers, right?”
It’s really hard not to reach out and bring him closer when he’s looking like a lost little puppy, but you hold yourself back, enjoying the way his eyes have gone soft.
“I do,” you confirm, melting at the way his smile shines like a million stars.
Goodness, he was cute.
“And me? Do you like me?”
“Sometimes,” you fib, giggling when he pouts.
“Cause I like you a lot.”
Were you ever really mad at him, you wonder, because who on earth could ever be mad at the man in front of you? With those big blue beautiful eyes, that charming smile, and that soft touch.
“You do?” you tease, voice low and silky as you feel him getting closer and closer to you.
“So much, darling. There isn't anyone else who I like as much as you, to be honest. You’re the only one that makes me want to buy flowers at 5 am,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nobody else I’d rather hold hands with,” a kiss to your cheek. “Nobody else I’d rather spend time with. I’m entirely yours, what can I say?”
And then it happens, his soft lips finally press onto yours, slowly parting them to deepen the kiss. His hands leave yours only to wrap his arms around your waist, and it’s as if you’ve done this before. Your hands find themselves running up along his arms to his shoulders, finally getting lost in his hair, following a trail that you somehow already know.
“Be my best girl?” he asks in a husky voice, eyes opening slowly, and your lips long to be on his again.
“Yes,” you say in a hushed tone, just for him.
He loosens his hold on you, and the look on his face is any indicator it pains him just as much as it hurts you.
“I should get your flowers,” he says, timidly looking behind you at the door. “I think I chose well.”
He steps outside only to come back a few seconds, no longer as proud of his choice as he had been.
The roses in his hands are barely holding it together, with only a few of the stems still holding up flowers. Those that still remain are all missing most of their petals.  
“I thought they looked better,” he confesses, frowning when he looks at the bouquet again. “Guess they took a little beating while I worked up the courage to come here.”
“They’re perfect,” you say, taking them from his hands and bringing them close to your chest.
And they were. They were from him, from the man who had just confessed his feelings for you. The man that drove you equally crazy with worry and with love.
He was yours, and you were his.
That’s all that mattered.
The stupid things you both got yourself into were more fun together anyway.
“I love them,” you laugh. “They’re perfect.”
The morning had started with panic, but this right here, that peace you felt when he held you close, that was worth it all.
----
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scribbles97 · 4 years
Text
Left Behind -- Chapter 7
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13
Read On Ao3
Scott’s glare was one to freeze fire as he stepped into the kitchen of the farm house. From the t-shirt and shorts Lucy could assume he had been out on a run, something he had only occasionally taken to for the week they had been there so far. 
It’s Tan, She mouthed to him before returning her focus to the call, “As long as the weather is good and the sky is clear, at least it means you girls can have a good holiday.”
“Thanks Lucy,” Tanusha sighed across the time, “I best go, Penny is waiting for me to go down to the beach.”
It wasn’t that Lucy knew where the two girls were, but she knew that waiting to go and sunbathe on the beach was entirely the opposite of what would be on their agenda. 
“Keep in touch.” She told her before hanging up. 
Scott was leaning against the counter, sipping at a glass of water as he watched her, “How is Kayo?”
“That’s not her name.”
“It’s what she told me to call her.”
Lucy tutted but didn’t argue, Tanusha was mature enough to fight for herself, that was what had earned her the nickname after all. 
“She’s fine,” Lucy nodded, “Away with Penelope for the week.”
Scott frowned, “Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward?”
“Yes, you’ve met her a time or two.”
His eye roll spoke volumes as he nodded, “I know who she is. I just didn’t have her down as being the sort of company Kayo kept.”
“Both their fathers are heads of security for us. Friendship by association.” she shrugged, nudging him out of the way of the sink as she went to rinse her cup, “Now, get the pancake batter out of the fridge. Your brothers will be up soon.”
Scott chuckled as he went to the fridge and lifted down the jug, “I don’t think Virgil or John will be up anytime soon. One was up studying all night, and the other up stargazing.”
Taking out the frying pan, Lucy shrugged, pancakes had always been Jeff’s thing but they were trying to find a new sense of normality. If that meant her upping her pancake game, she was willing to give it a go. 
“Your Dad’s pancakes always drew everyone down for breakfast,” She murmured, having to bite her lip as she set the pan down on the stove top. 
Scott’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, squeezing gently as he kissed her cheek, “Yours will too, Mom.”
She wiped under her eyes, quickly taking a breath and shaking her head, “Sorry. I don’t--”
“It’s okay.” Scott cut her off, “I get it.”
The sound of the youngest pair on the stairs made Scott turn, “I’ll go and keep those two busy until food’s ready.”
Nodding to him she forced a smile, clearing the lump that had blocked her throat she turned to the jug and frying pan. 
If she could make pancakes without Jeff there, things would get just a little bit easier. 
***
Virgil hovered in the doorway of the kitchen, watching their mother as she interacted with the youngest pair over strawberries and chocolate spread and pancakes. Scott was next to him, having been the one sensible enough to supply the required morning coffee to boot his brain. 
“Do you know what’s going on with Kayo?” Scott murmured, too low to be heard by any of the others. 
Virgil frowned, “No. Why would I know?”
Scott shrugged, “You talk to her a lot.”
“I talk to Alice a lot. Doesn’t mean I know her every move.”
Scott’s huff of exasperation made him smile, he wasn’t sure why his big brother was so determined to read into these things. It was entertaining to shoot him down though. 
“She’s away with Lady Penelope.”
He frowned, looking to Scott in confusion, “Alice?”
“Kayo.”
That made more sense. Looking back to his coffee he took another sip before frowning again,
“So what’s the issue with Lady P?”
Scott shook his head, “I don’t know but Mom said that the pair of them were having a girls week away. It just doesn’t seem right to me.”
He shrugged, what Kayo and Penelope did was their business. There was enough going on in his life without trying to figure out what a girls trip away meant. 
“I dunno Scott, maybe they just needed some time out or something.” 
Scott’s hum suggested the conversation wasn’t over, that something still hadn’t settled in his mind and that there were more answers to be sought. 
“Are you two coming for pancakes?” their mother interrupted, saving Virgil from more of his brother's questions. 
He perked up, stepping into the kitchen and dumping his mug in the sink, “Do we have syrup?”
The raised eyebrow she gave him matched Scott’s, “Would I be your mother if we didn’t have syrup to go with pancakes?”
He grinned, catching her under his arm and giving her a squeeze, “Thanks mom.”
She hugged him back, waiting until she could lean in close enough before whispering, “And later you can tell me why Scott thinks you were up all night studying.”
Wincing he squeezed her again, trying to play off the accusation without letting on to the others. He should have known better than to expect he could pull the wool over her eyes. Mom had always been good at picking up on the most subtle of signs. 
Her phone ringing spared him, drawing her attention away with a hard frown. Both International rescue and Tracy Industries were on strict instructions not to call unless absolutely necessary. Aunt Val and Uncle Lee had checked in occasionally, but their calls were usually late in the day rather than first thing. 
The way her eyes darkened as she looked at the caller ID worried Virgil, the way she glared at each of them before turning to the door had them all falling silent. 
“I’ll be in my office, do not disturb me.”
As she turned, Virgil caught sight of the photo on the screen. Sucking in a breath, he nodded to Scott, gesturing for him to follow her. 
It seemed that his big brother had been on to something after all.
***
She was fully aware of how Virgil had nodded to Scott before the eldest had followed her out of the kitchen. It was one more thing to think about as she answered Tanusha’s call, debating whether to send him away or clue him in. 
“Tanusha?”
“We need evac immediately,” Her gasp came down the line, “Penny’s uploading our coordinates now.”
Lucy held the office door for Scott to follow her through, pausing just a moment longer before turning the call to loudspeaker, “Scott’s here with me. I’m scrambling the nearest--”
“No.” Tanusha cut her off, something off about her voice, “Lucy I need someone we can trust.”
She looked across to Scott, “Call Val and Lee, get them to scramble Thunderbird One.”
His nod was quick as he opened up his own comm. Lucy returned her focus to Tanusha, more concerned for what had happened. 
“Is your current location secure?”
“For now.” She confirmed, “I don’t know how long it’ll be before they find us.”
It had barely been two hours since she had spoken to the young woman. It scared her how much the tone had changed in that time. There was something in Tanusha’s voice, something that Lucy couldn’t quite place.
“Who’s with you?” She pressed, “Who is us Tin?”
There was a shuffle of the comm being passed from one hand to another, a muted cuss and grunt from someone in the group. 
“Lucy, it’s Penelope.”
She took a breath, both girls were safe, still together, still alive. 
“Parker is on his way to evacuate us from our current position, he should be here in about fifteen minutes which I assume is faster than Thunderbird One can make it?”
“Yes,” She nodded, checking the coordinates and flight path, “Thunderbird One will be five minutes behind him.”
Penelope sucked in a breath, “The Hood knew Kyrano was coming, we’ve done what first aid we can but time is of the essence. We need immediate evac before his men catch up to us.”
It was short and brief, but everything Lucy needed to know. 
Looking across to Scott, she pursed her lips. The eldest was frozen, still watching the comm with wide accusing eyes. 
Scott knew who Gaat was, knew what he was responsible for. 
“Scott. Has Thunderbird One launched?”
Her command seemed to snap him out of it, his eyes locking on hers with a brief nod, “They’re on their way.”
Nodding in return Lucy returned her focus to Penelope, later she would have a chance to talk to Scott. First, Kyrano was hurt. 
“I’ll send coordinates for Thunderbird One to pick us up.” Penelope told her, “Advise medics at the hospital we have two casualties, one with major injuries of various natures, the other a single stab wound to the abdomen.”
Sucking in a breath, Lucy pursed her lips, that explained what had been off with Kayo’s voice. 
“I’m fine.” The woman protested from outside of the comm’s range, “It’s a scratch.”
Lucy knew which of the woman’s words she was going to believe. 
“Can we trust the L.A. GDF hospital?” Penelope asked, frown deep even with the distortion from the camera. 
Normally she would send her most trusted to sweep the base, but they were obviously unavailable. 
“I’ll make sure we can,” She murmured with a nod, “Leave it to me. Scott will continue to monitor your position. Inform us as soon as Parker has you.”
“F.A.B.” Penelope nodded, “Will you meet us there?”
Hesitating, she glanced to Scott, unable to quite read his expression, “I’ll have to see.”
Penelope ended the call and Lucy was quickly looking for the number to dial her next port of call. Looking to Scott she nodded, 
“Keep an eye on them will you? I need to call an old friend and make sure the hospital is secure.”
The call only rang twice before a woman answered, “Colonel Janus’ Office.”
Lucy didn’t miss a beat, “It’s Lucille Tracy. I need to speak to the Colonel urgently.”
“I’m afraid he is rather--”
It took effort not to roll her eyes and snarl at the response. Instead she kept her voice low and calm as she spoke, “Go into his office and tell him who it is calling.”
The woman obeyed, giving Lucy a chance to meet the eyes across from her that were silently asking so many questions. 
“Janus?”
“Old Air Force buddy of your Uncle Lee’s.” She explained briefly, returning her focus to her comm as it lit up again with the figure she had been hoping to see. 
“Lucille,” He greeted with a smile, voice still thick and oily as it had been when she first met the man, “How can I be of assistance today?”
“Martin,” She smiled back sweetly, knowing it paid to keep the top brass in the GDF sweet, “I have two of my best security agents on their way to your base in L.A. before they land I need the hospital security checked and a team I can trust to ensure my people’s safety.”
“Well,” He sighed, “I suppose I still owe you for Portugal.”
Laughing briefly, Lucy nodded again, “You will always owe me for Portugal.”
“I’ll buy you a drink some time,” He grinned, flicking his wrist somewhere off screen as he glanced away, “Consider it done. I’ll alert the team there to your arrival and that you should receive anything you require.”
“I shan’t be there personally,” She warned him, knowing what the gesture he was making truly meant, “I’m away with the boys for a week, we need some time after…” She trailed off swallowing with a nod, “Well, I’m sure you have heard about Jeff along with the rest of the world.”
His smile dropped but looked far from sad as he nodded, “If I can do anything Lucy, you need only ask, darling.”
Forcing a smile again, she swallowed hard, “Thank you Martin. If you could see to the security I would appreciate it. Once I’ve vetted a team at our end I’ll send someone to take over.”
“I shall see to it personally now. Keep me updated on the situation.”
“I shall.”
She cut the call without further words, looking to Scott with a raised eyebrow.
“Thunderbird One has them,” He told her, “They’re en route now.”
Her gut told her she needed to be there. It was down to her that Tanusha had chosen to follow her father into Gaat’s clutches. There would be no doubt that Kyrano would have a few choice words for her at some point. 
“You should go to them,” Scott murmured, voice low and soft as he watched her, “Kay is family.”
Still she hesitated, her boys were just getting into some form of normality. She needed to be there for them. 
“We can always fly out with them and meet you there,” He offered, “John and I both have our pilots licenses remember?”
She scoffed, shaking her head, “Like you’d let me forget!” 
He grinned as he shrugged, reminding Lucy of just how the dust was settling. 
“Come on, let’s tell the others and finish breakfast, then I’ll drive you to the airport.”
It didn’t exactly leave room for argument as he turned to the door, only waiting for a moment with a raised eyebrow. With a sigh, Lucy nodded and turned to follow him.
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madlori · 5 years
Text
Unveiled - Chapter 10
Tumblr media
Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12  || Chapter 13 || Epilogue
by MadLori Word Count: 3200 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology
No sex in this one.
CW: Minor character death, car accident.
Read it on AO3
Life became both calmer and more hectic as they drew ever closer to the unveiling day, now a mere month away. 
Since that horrible morning when they feared the consort was miscarrying, he hadn’t had any cramping or bleeding. That day, Zhenya had wheeled him back to their room in a chair, over his gestures of protest, and half-carried him to bed. The consort had been silently laughing at him by the time they reached it, making I’m fine! gestures. He had, however, accepted being pampered for the rest of the day. Zhenya had even called in the masseuse to give him a full body rub-down and had the chefs prepare his favorite foods and bring them to their room so he could eat in bed, improvising a drape between them on the bed so the consort could unveil to eat. They’d lazed around together and watched TV before drowsing off in a loose embrace, a half-eaten bag of salt and vinegar chips, the consort’s favorite, still lying on the bedspread.
It had taken about a week before the consort had initiated sex again. Zhenya had slid gratefully into his body, hearing him sigh and breathe deeply in arousal -- just the fact that he wanted to was a relief. Knowing that his consort still desired him, even though he was already pregnant, filled Zhenya with warm, gentle passion that he tried to communicate, not with words but with his hands and lips, applied reverently to his consort’s body. The fear they’d both felt that morning, and how they’d turned so immediately to each other, had deepened their bond. Zhenya felt it, and he knew the consort did too.
And yet, even while he enjoyed this new closeness with his husband, Zhenya found his mind straying to Sidney. He hadn’t seen him at all, despite keeping a casual-but-not-casual eye out for him around the palace and grounds. Guilt was his constant companion; guilt that he should be thinking of another man when he and his husband were growing so much closer. Guilt that he couldn’t stop wanting him, despite having more than he could ever have reasonably asked for in his consort. And, ironically, guilt over what he knew he had to do when next he saw Sidney, guilt that he would actually choose his consort. He couldn’t win for losing. He felt guilty no matter which of the two men in his life his heart was favoring.  
A few days after That Morning, Zhenya came upon Sidney sitting on a bench in the gardens, reading a book, coincidentally near the coral-and-lavender roses that both he and the consort had admired.  Sometimes he wondered when Sidney did his actual guarding; he so rarely saw him on duty. He looked up and smiled as Zhenya approached. “Hey,” he said casually, as if everything was normal. Zhenya just loomed over him until he looked up again. “What’s wrong?”
Guilt and dread were too raw for him to say what he needed to, so all that came out was stale anger, left over from the miscarriage scare. “Too busy to be with your close, personal friend when he thought he was losing our baby?”
Sidney sighed, like he’d been expecting this. “I was sent into town to pick up some uniforms that got shipped over from New Scotland. I didn’t even know what happened until I got back. He was already back in your room by then.”
Zhenya deflated a little. That was, he had to admit, a legitimate excuse. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I’m so glad he and the baby are okay.” He squinted up at him. “Why were you even thinking about where I was while your husband was supposedly miscarrying?”
Zhenya could hear Sasha yelling Yeah, good question! in his head. “I was distracted and upset. I suppose I was...displacing, would you call it?”
Sidney scooted over on the bench. “Stop standing over me like you’re going to send me to bed without supper.”
Zhenya thought about resisting, but then just sat down, defeated. “I find myself thinking of you in all sorts of inappropriate moments.”
Sidney was quiet for a moment. “I know what you mean.” They glanced at each other, then quickly away.
“If I were a stronger man, I’d ask you to request a transfer back to your home country.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I didn’t say I was asking.”
“Glad to hear it. Because that’s not a good look, asking a man to uproot his whole life because your feelings are making you uncomfortable.”
“You’re right. You’re just a man trying to do his job here and live your life. I’m the one who keeps seeking you out. I could walk away and decide never to see you again if I wanted to.”
“That would make me sad,” Sidney said, almost too quiet to hear.
Zhenya snorted. “Being married seems to be revealing all my shortcomings. I don’t seem to be very good at maintaining boundaries.”
“Well, you’ve never had to, have you? Your whole life you’ve had your boundaries externally enforced, strictly enforced, by royal protocol and the sheer isolation of your existence. All of this is forcing you to set your own boundaries and keep to them. It’s not surprising you’d be out of practice.”
“I didn’t come out here looking for you but here you are. I could have walked on by and you probably wouldn’t have seen me, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, because you act on me like a magnet, Sidney. I am drawn to you, and I’ve never been sure why, but it has to stop. I have to stop. The unveiling is barely a month away, and once my husband’s name is known to me, all of you will return to New Scotland, and I’ll never see you again.”
Sidney fiddled with the corner of his book. “I’ve been trying not to think about that.”
“I’ve thought of little else since we met.”
“You make it sound so easy. To just -- stop.”
“Easy or not, it must be done.” He got up and forced himself not to look at Sidney again. He couldn’t bear the sight of those eyes or those cheekbones if it was the last time he’d be seeing them. “Take care of yourself, Sidney.” He strode away, and didn’t look back.
--------------
Zhenya galloped hard, urging his horse faster than he usually would, just wanting the speed, the rush, the sensation of flying. 
To get away. Away from the palace, from his weeping mother, from his gray-faced father, from the endless whispers and quiet preparations and the sad, pitying looks from visitors and staff alike. 
From that cruel, strange world where his brother was dead.
They’d gotten the news just after dinner the night before. Victor had left to return to his mountainside home. The drive was precarious, with many tight hairpin turns, and a truck driver coming the other way had briefly lost control, drifted into the other lane, and hit his brother’s car head-on. The car careened off the edge, flipped over and over down the hillside. Victor and his driver had both been killed.
There was nobody to blame. The other driver hadn’t been sleepy or impaired or even going too fast; it was a difficult road and his hands had slipped at the exact wrong moment. The same thing had happened to Zhenya on that road, but he had been fortunate that no cars had been coming toward him when it had.
“I’ll see you at the unveiling,” Victor had said, as they’d said good-bye. “Just two weeks to go! Can’t wait to actually meet this amazing consort of yours. I bet he’s gorgeous.”
Zhenya had laughed, although as the days went by, he was less and less concerned with what his consort’s face looked like. Nothing about his appearance could be a disappointment -- his face would be dear to Zhenya because it was his.
But now Victor was gone. Victor would never see his brother-in-law’s face nor meet his niece or nephew, nor see Zhenya crowned King when that time came, and Zhenya was angry about it. He was angry about a lot of things. So tonight at dinner, when his mother had tentatively suggested that the unveiling might be postponed, he’d stewed and bitten his tongue until he could stand it no longer, leapt up from the table and fled to the stables without even changing out of his dinner clothes.
He’d saddled Admiral in a rush, the horse probably confused to be going out at this hour. As he’d left the stables, going much too fast this close to the outbuildings, he’d spied Sidney, of all people, running after him. “Zhenya!” he’d called. Probably sent by the consort to check up on him -- would that he’d sent Fleury or Letang, and not the one person who’d only serve to aggravate him further. He’d left Sidney and the palace in the dust, craving escape.
He pulled up at the lake at the far end of the grounds, where he and his brother used to come to fish when the lake near the palace was still too close to their parents’ watchful eyes. It was a remote spot, with a hunter’s cabin and a dock but no boats. They’d fish from the dock, and sometimes just sit there and talk. Victor (although that hadn’t been his name then) had often spoken of his faith, of what he learned from the clerics and the thoughts that kept him studying day in and day out. Zhenya had sometimes spoken of being King one day, because even as children they’d somehow known that it would be him on the throne, not his elder brother. He’d spoken of finding a consort, of what his unveiling day would be like. It was during these talks that he’d come to realize where his preference lay -- when he’d talk of unveiling a consort, he always saw in his mind’s eye a handsome man’s face being revealed to him, instead of a beautiful woman’s.
He and his brother had been close, then. Very close. It wasn’t until they grew into men that the distance came. It couldn’t be helped. Victor’s life had become about his studies, his orders, his calling, while Zhenya’s had become about affairs of state, governing, the business of ruling. Their affection was unchanged, but Victor hadn’t been a real part of his life for almost a decade. And now all Zhenya could see was the time they hadn’t spent together, all the time they assumed they’d have in the future.
He slid off Admiral and flopped down into a heap on the grassy shore, staring at the surface of the water, smooth as a mirror in the still night air. The stars blazed overhead in this unpopulated corner of the royal estate and his mind searched for peace.
He was still searching for it when he heard distant hoofbeats approaching. He sighed. It could only be one person.
He stayed where he was, not turning to look as his interloper stopped his horse and slid off, then came around to sit by his side.
“What are you doing here, Sidney?” he asked.
“You rode out like you were being chased by demons,” Sidney said. “I was worried.”
“I wanted to be alone. Could you not respect my wishes in that, at least?”
“You’re not a be-alone man, Zhenya. You may think you want to be alone, but you don’t. You thrive only with companionship.”
“That isn’t your task to provide.”
“Maybe not. And I shouldn’t be here, probably. You made your feelings known the last time we talked.”
“Not clearly enough.”
“I’m sorry. I just...I couldn’t stand the thought of you out here by yourself. What if your horse tripped? What if you hurt yourself? You weren’t riding very carefully, and it’s dark.”
“I’m fine, as you can see.” His resolve was weakening. How had Sidney come to take such an accurate measure of him in such a short acquaintance? He wasn’t a be-alone man, that was true. Solitude sounded good, but wore thin after a short time.
Sidney was silent for a few moments. “I’m so sorry about your brother. I’d have told you before, but I haven’t seen you.”
“Thank you. It’s...difficult. He was so excited to become an uncle. My child will never know him now.” His voice caught. Sidney rested a hand on the middle of his back; even that casual touch, through two layers of Zhenya’s clothing, felt electric. 
“I have a sister. I can’t imagine anything happening to her.”
“Are you close?”
“Yes. She’s here, actually. She’s another one of the consort’s guards.”
Zhenya turned to look at him, surprised, although he instantly knew who he referred to. “The woman with the blonde ponytail?”
“Yes. Taylor.”
“She resembles you.”
“A bit, maybe.”
Zhenya’s throat closed, and he swallowed hard. He let his head sag, his chin trembling. Sidney’s hand moved to his shoulder and squeezed it. “I’m so angry,” Zhenya said. 
“Of course you are. A senseless accident; it’s horrible.”
“No, I’m angry at myself. Because I’m so sad about my brother, but that’s not why I’m out here. I had to get away before I said something unforgivable because I’m so bitter...I must be a terrible person.”
“You’re not, of course you’re not!”
“I am! My brother, who never hurt anyone in his life, is dead, and all I can think about is why did it happen now; the unveiling is only two weeks away, the happiest day of my life, and now it’ll be overshadowed by this, and then I think, what a terrible thought to have, how can I possibly be thinking about the unveiling when my brother is gone, and I despise myself for it.”
Sidney scooted a little closer. “You listen to me, Zhenya. You are the kindest, most loving, best man I’ve ever known. You are not a terrible person. If you were, you wouldn't despise yourself for those thoughts. You’d throw tantrums and make a big fuss about it and cause your parents more pain, but you aren’t doing that. It’s absolutely normal to have feelings about how this affects you. It doesn’t make you terrible; it makes you human.”
Zhenya wanted to believe him. He looked in Sidney’s eyes and saw only sincerity there. Sidney really did think he was good, and kind, and loving. He might reconsider if he knew how desperately Zhenya wanted him, even though his faithful consort was waiting for him back in their rooms with their child growing under his heart, and that if Sidney said the word, he’d give up his throne, his life, and his child to run away with him. That was why he’d told Sidney they couldn’t be friends, because Zhenya was weak and disloyal. And if he didn’t despise himself for his bitterness over the timing of his brother’s death, he could damn well despise himself for that.
His mother used to say that emotions ran in packs, and big feelings of one kind could lead to other feelings escaping their cages and running wild. His grief bubbled up like dry ice in a bucket of water, and he felt his face pinch in on itself and his chin shake. Sidney knelt up at his side and folded Zhenya into his arms as he broke into sobs. He clutched Sidney’s waist and cried into his broad chest, Sidney’s hand stroking the back of his head as he whispered “Shhhh, I’ve got you,” over and over, rocking him slightly. Zhenya’s belly heaved with unlovely sobs that weren’t only for Victor. He felt Sidney press his lips to the top of Zhenya’s head and keep them there.
It went on and on, until his chest ached and his head pounded, until his sinuses were clogged and Sidney’s shirt was wet with his tears. He cried until he felt hollow but Sidney never moved; he couldn’t have been comfortable in the awkwardly hunched half-kneel he was in, cradling Zhenya in his arms, but he stayed there like a rock for Zhenya to crash upon, and it was only there that he found peace.
They rode back to the stables in silence, handing their horses off to the yawning grooms and walking back towards the palace.
Sidney stopped just shy of the main gardens. “I’ve asked to be removed from the consort’s guard detail,” he said.
“You have?” Zhenya asked. He couldn’t work up as much of a reaction as this revelation really merited; he felt like his insides had been scooped out, echoing inside with the vacuum left by his grief.
“You won’t be seeing me around the grounds or the palace anymore.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Not exactly. The detail guards will be heading back to New Scotland after the unveiling. I’ll keep to my rooms in the meantime.” 
Zhenya looked at his profile. Silvered by moonlight, he was so beautiful it made Zhenya’s skin hurt. He stepped closer, reached out and cupped his face, allowing himself one stroke of his thumb over Sidney’s elegant cheekbone. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Sidney heaved a deep sigh. “Don’t thank me. Just…” He tipped his eyes up to meet Zhenya’s. “Whatever happens, remember me fondly?”
“Always.” Zhenya stood stock still. He desperately wanted to kiss him. All he had to do was lean in slightly, and he could tell that Sidney would allow it, would even reach up to meet him, if only he could just…
“Goodbye, Zhenya,” Sidney said, then pulled away and walked toward the palace.
----------------
His consort wasn’t in their room when he returned, but that wasn’t unusual. Sometimes he was there when Zhenya arrived; sometimes he came in later. Zhenya filled the large bathtub with the hottest water he could stand and climbed in, soaking until he was red all over like a lobster, letting the heat clear the sorrow from his head.
The door opened after he’d been in there for awhile; the consort entered and leaned over him, stroking one hand across his wet shoulders. He ran his fingers through Zhenya’s damp hair and urged him to sit forward. He did, letting his heavy head hang down while his husband picked up the sponge and squeezed hot water over him, scrubbing the skin gently with smooth, massaging motions. Zhenya leaned back after a little while and looked up at him -- he’d never asked him to unveil before and wasn’t quite sure how. He pointed to the veils, then to his own eyes, which he closed. The consort understood; Zhenya felt the veils being lifted, then his husband’s soft lips on his in a gentle kiss. Lying here with his eyes closed felt so lovely; he was tempted to just sleep here.
The consort urged him up and out, toweled him off and led him to their bed. Zhenya slipped naked into the cool sheets; the consort climbed in on his side and quickly shifted over to draw Zhenya into his arms. He went, gratefully, the lassitude of his bath and the exhaustion of the night’s emotional upheaval barely allowing him the time to get comfortable before he was asleep.
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Broken Wings, pt. 8
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08: Love the way you lie
Summary: Ethan and Grayson are both trying to say goodbye to her, just in case everything goes awry.
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing
Word Count: ~ 3000
Broken Wings (Angel AU - G.D.) Masterlist
She laid with her head in his lap, her Y/H/C hair sprawled over his inked thighs as he propped himself up on his elbows. Grayson had spent every waking minute with her, terrified of what's to come once the therapist she called for arrives. He didn't want her risking her current life for a slim possibility of living it until the end only to lose her forever after. Sure, having her die in his arms for centuries has been a living hell, but he always he she'd come back to him after. He always felt her soul is still present. Grayson feared should she change the coarse of her destiny, she'd find peace and her soul would be laid to rest and that...facing a forever without her – the biggest heartache of his existence...that would surely be enough to kill him.
„Whatcu' thinkin' about, angel eyes?“ She teased, her tone playful and airy, so much giddiness hiding behind every letter of every word that Grayson felt his heart die little by little at the thought of losing her. It was a painful ache, a pinch at the core of his being, one that he couldn't fight nor deny.
„You do realize that silence usually means you're back in your broody mood and the bad thoughts are eating away at you?“ She deducts, sitting up to properly look at him, her hair falling all around her beautiful face, framing it in a heavenly manor. Out of all the faces she had in the past, there was never one Grayson couldn't love.
„I'm not broody!“ Grayson defended, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows furrowing, as if the words itself was an insult when he really just wanted to throw her off his scent. He refused to burden her with his gloominess.
„You're as broody as they come.“ She giggled in his face, throwing a leg over his lap, allowing herself a straddling position as her hands came up to his face, holding it as if it's the Sun...and it is. It is a small piece of sunshine in the palm of her hand – beauty and flames, all together. „But I still love you just the same.“ She smiled, her eyes giving off intense longing and aching neediness he knew he couldn't indulge in.
But she was reckless. As always.
It nearly stopped Grayson's heart when he saw her face coming closer to his, her lips pursed and nearly on his lips. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the soft plush of her lips brush the tip of his nose, his hands premature with their action as they were not only on her hips, but already pushing her off in a rough manor she despised.
„Seriously?!“ She exclaimed, her face one of anger and disappointment, a brewing fight just under the surface. „STOP THROWING ME INTO THE SAND LIKE I'M A RAGDOLL!“ She huffed, getting up on her own as Grayson tried to help, which she ignored completely....Of course. She's as stubborn as they get – one of the traits nearly all her previous reincarnations possessed.
„I'm sorry. I just didn't want to risk it.“ Grayson put his hands in his front pockets, managing to keep eye contact with the stormy eyes of his forevermore, wondering how dead he'd be if looks could kill because she had the deadliest eyes he has ever seen. No one, not Y/N, not Amara, absolutely not one had the same fury in their eyes as Caroline. She was unpredictable and perhaps that was the part of why she's different and why she might end the cycle....or it was because of years of mental torture her past lives had subjected her to.
„It's not just about that, Grayson! Okay?!“ And there it is, the avalanche he knew would come. She had been bottling everything in...if you could call it that, but despite her being openly discontent in the past, Grayson knew the look she held in her eyes wasn't a look of someone who simply shows their unhappiness, rather a look of a woman who's keeping in a storm – an enraged look she let out.
„Hey, guys! Darren is here!“ Ethan called out, his voice getting lost in the sound of crashing waves, but they heard him fine.
„NOT NOW!“ They both screamed in unison, allowing Caroline to spew fire.
„You keep saying you want to protect me, but every little bit of protection you provide only hurt me more! YOU FUCKING TOLD ME TO BE WITH ETHAN! And to make matters worse...I actually think I could survive the kiss. I don't think I'm going to die in this life and while I'm not particularly eager to die a horrible death, I'd still try because that's how much confidence I have in us.“ She stopped to draw in a breath, her cheeks flushed a darker pink, one Grayson would usually run his fingertip over, but he feared losing a finger if he tried at all.
„And then you tell me not to try this hypnosis thing? Literally the only thing that would let us be together?!“ She huffed, smacking her hair back against the wind.
„You...do you not want me?“ Her tone finally returned to normal, but it wasn't the normal Grayson had hoped for as he remained silent, allowing her this chance to blow off some steam. He had wanted the cheery, playful Caroline, not the defeated, vulnerable one.
„Is that what this is about? Do you not like this body? Or this personality?“ She began to list, making his eyes bulge and for the first time since she started this rant, Grayson had opened his mouth to speak against her.
„Absolutely not! I love you – all of you!“ He stepped toward her in his attempt to prove it so, but she stepped back at the same time, not wanting the contact because this is when her illness came to collect, convincing her she's not good enough...not for him. Convincing her he didn't want her. Not this version, at least.
„Then why do I feel like I don't measure up? Huh? How can you ever claim to love me, when I'm never the same woman you met in the past life? I'm never the same in any way, so how can you love me so unconditionally? Maybe it's just a pattern – a habit of sorts. Because I don't think any of us could ever fill the giant hole Y/N left in your heart and I may be mistaken but“, a choked sob stopped her mid sentence, not allowing her to continue as she looked away with tears in her eyes...those beautiful eyes, her lips thinning as they set in a firm line.
„But I don't think I am...She was the original and I...all of us were merely fading copies of the masterpiece you always wished to have. And as all copies tend to do, we're nothing like the original...no one can paint the same image thousands of times.“ She shrugged, taking note of his stunned silence and near desperation as a confirmation of sorts, one she knew he wouldn't utter but lingered deep in his subconsciousness.
She turned on her heel, walking back to meet with Darren. If she got lost in time, at least she'll make it worth something. Perhaps her breaking the curse at the beginning will give Y/N and Grayson the happy ending they deserved. Perhaps Ethan will be happier without ever knowing or losing Amara. Perhaps Cameron will be happier without chaperoning her brothers across the world and a new copy of herself who was probably the least favorite part of her immortality.
Wiping her tears away, she took in a deep breath – one that filled her lungs and set a bundle of oxygen running through her body and to her brain, clearing her troubled thoughts enough to make herself seem presentable for Darren. Otherwise, he wouldn't help her – any sign of instability and her plan is gone.
And then she saw the older man, her legs taking her to him faster and faster until she had her arms wrapped around him. She had the only man who believed she wasn't insane with her again and it did give her some solid ground to build herself back up again.
„You needed me?“ He chuckled, noticing the difference on her already, but remaining quiet about it.
„There's so much to tell.“
They spent hours talking, enough to explain everything, but not nearly enough for him to wrap his mind around it – especially when the fallen angel she spoke of was nowhere to be found.
„What if you can't come back from it?“ Darren questioned, his previously cheerful persona replaced with a worried man.
„Then I don't...Better than spending the rest of my life fighting visions of the past, alone.“ She bit on the inside of her bottom lip, gnawing on it as he eyed her carefully.
„Caroline...“ Darren tried, but he knew she made her mind up already. Anything he says will fall on deaf ears.
„Please. I'm ready. Just do it. Now.“ She pleaded, her hand atop of his, tightly holding onto him.
Reluctantly, he agreed, but not immediately. „Tomorrow.“ He said.
„Okay.“ She whispered, giving the man time to recuperate and put himself back together. She needed some time too.
Caroline sat on her bed, looking at her bare feet in thought. She could still see flashes of her previous lives whenever she shut her eyes close or with eyes wide open if she concentrated hard enough.
„Care?“ Ethan's voice broke her focus, stopping her from delving deeper into her mind.
„Yeah?“ Her voice is small, her tone weak. She's on edge and he sees it. He's gotten too good at spotting people's weaknesses and exploiting them for his own gain. But he also knew she'd appreciate him not commenting on it, so he didn't, even if he felt the itch to do so.
„Can I ask you something?“ He licks his bottom lip, coming closer to her only to sit on the bed across from hers...where her roommate used to sleep before jumping to her death.
„Always.“ She offered a reassuring smile, despite not knowing if she had anything left to offer to anyone. Ethan seemed to take it to heart, giving her a small smile in return, the best one he could afford to give without it looking forced.
„Do I stand a chance? If you come back and the curse isn't lifted, would you be mine?“ Ethan decided to put it all out there, make sure she knows she has choices and Grayson isn't the only one. And perhaps she was right, he did see Amara in her and it drew him in for she was so much alike her in too many ways for it to be a coincidence – more than any other version of her ever was. But Ethan found he loves the debris of Caroline's essence as well, even if those debris longed for his brother more than they'll ever long for him.
„I...I don't know.“ She was honest. A part of her was screaming no, because how could she ever love someone that wasn't Grayson? How could she love a man who looked like him, but wasn't him? How could she love a man she knew loved another that lived deep within her? But another part of her was wistful and it wanted Ethan and the easy love he brought with him. It was so effortless with him – no looming curses, no death caused by a simple kiss...he was kind and understanding, beautiful and thrilling and sexy as the hell he belonged in. But he wasn't Grayson...even if he would have made her life an unforgettable adventure.
„At least it's not a no.“ Ethan chuckles dryly, moving over to sit beside her, his weight shifting the mattress, tipping Y/N into him.
„I gotcha!“ He held onto her, his eyes immersed in hers as the panic of possibly falling fled her and he couldn't help but think how he wished Grayson wasn't around anymore. How he wished his brother was gone and he could have this chance with this incredible girl who would surely drive him insane five times a day, but he'd still be happy. He'd still count his lucky stars for having her in his life.
„I really want to kiss you right now.“ Ethan admitted, making her mouth go dry. She couldn't lie, she wanted to kiss him too. Just once, simply to know how it feels, to let him have that one kiss that would give him a piece of Amara back. She didn't want him to be miserable and she didn't want to be the reason why. So yes, she wanted to kiss him. But every fiber of her being told her not to.
„Ditto.“ She whispered, smiling as he frowned because he knew that if she hadn't replied with actions, but only words, she wouldn't do it. He knew her enough to know she's a wild one and considering her lips weren't on his, they won't be. Not for a while, at least.
„Look...whatever you see or hear tomorrow, make sure you come back in time, okay? If you can't convince any of us to bring you up, disappear. Don't let us touch you until you find a way out. Okay?“ Ethan repeated, swallowing thickly because he still remembered the horror of Y/N's death. It was gruesome and he never wanted for Caroline to feel it nor see it.
„I'll do my best, Mr. Bossy!“ She embraced him, her hands wrapped around him, hooked at the back of his neck as he buried his face in hers, inhaling her – all of her.
„Got time for one more?“ Another voice, one that sends chills down her back spoke, her eyes opening at the sound. She'd know his voice anywhere.
„I don't think it's the best idea.“ She detached herself from her favorite demon, a title she'd ever tell him about, only to wrap her arms around herself, needing an extra layer of protection despite the fact the hurt he causes is from the inside and there's not shield for those kinds of injuries.
„Please.“ Grayson's plea was the hardest thing she could ever hear right now, because he never just asked – he poured every human emotion into it, giving it weight of a hundred collapsing stars, wrecking her defenses.
With a nod, Ethan had decided to place a kiss on her forehead before heading out, respecting her choice. He didn't give up completely, but he respected her primary choice is Grayson at this particular time.
„You do know all those things you said on the beach are just a figment of your untamed imagination mixed with insecurities, right?“ He began, making her scoff.
„That's not an apology I hear, rather a start up for a new fight.“ She sent him a glare, one that meant he better stay in his position because if he came closer, she'd let her evil out.
„No. What I mean is, none of what you said is true. I never fell in love with your face, Caroline, although it's a very beautiful one. I never looked for body shapes – you've had them all. And yes, sometimes your personality is difficult to deal with, but I still loved you. I loved you because your soul is pure light that calls to me like a siren. If your soul hurts, I hurt. If your soul is happy, I'm happy. If you're feeling lost, I'm desperate. It's like two magnets, pushing and pulling in the need to be as one. Your beauty lies in the unchanging goodness of your soul and heart that can be a stubborn nightmare at times, but it never lessened the beauty. It never stopped calling out to me. I never stopped running to it when it did.“ Grayson sighed, deciding to be brave and step closer, brushing his knuckles over her cheekbone as she turned away from him.
But then she turned back, her eyes shooting up and connecting with his, her heart jumping out her chest with their proximity.
„I can't help but be insecure. You've known every dark, twisted, dusty part of my soul and you have so many memories with...me! But I don't remember most of them! It's like...Imagine if I dated a thousand versions of you and you didn't remember...It's silly, but I'm jealous and I'm bitter about not remembering. And I'm so pissed for being put in a position to be jealous and bitter about my own damn self.“ She stood up, stopping Grayson's breathing for the second time in a day, but this time she didn't try to kiss him anywhere close to his face. She just wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest.
„Just know I love you. Whatever happens, that can't change.“ She whispered, feeling him shift their weight as he laid her down on the bed, half his weight pinning her under but she didn't complain. She enjoyed feeling him on top of her, wanting not only a kiss anymore...she wanted him in every sinful way possible. She wanted to feel him around her, inside her, enveloping her entirely. She wanted to be his, just once in this damned life she was given. Just once.
However, without even knowing, she fell asleep to the sound beat of his heart, her mind in the gutter, but still on him.
The morning came too soon.
„Wake up, love birds. Time to do some time traveling! Curse breaking!“ Cameron clapped, ignoring the groans and grunts and their cutesy snuggling closer together. But even they knew it couldn't last, slowly getting up in silence, simply looking at one another. While Caroline was still convinced half the things Grayson told her last night were lies to make her feel better, she didn't care. She loved the way he lied, just as she loved him.
And she would fight for him.
Tags: @dancerwriter @peacedolantwins  @heeydolan @accalialionheart   @graydolan12  @xalayx  @fallinginlove-16 @deeteeeeevee  @heyits-claire @riverdalesserpent @dolandolll 
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I’ll Fight For You
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I’ll Fight For You
Peter Parker x Reader 
Warnings:  Fight scene, explosions, hurt descriptions, starving self, swearing I think, nursing organ facts (tell me if you think of any more), fluff, and a hint of angst
A/N: This is the work I have for @keepingupwiththeparkers for her 4,000 follower writing challenge. 
#kuwtp4kwc
Thinking about making an origin story for Gargoyle. The good title I thought of I want to save for my series. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Requests are open and Messages are open if you want to chat. The gifs came from google, so credit goes to the person who made them. I don’t own Gargoyles the show either.
Background: Only slight endgame spoilers for this description. In my world, Carol snapped the gauntlet to kill Thanos and made it through the time machine, but left the mind and time stone so they could bring Vision back and returned the soul stone to save Natasha, and Steve didn't go back in time. Avengers Tower was bought back until the compound could be rebuilt and remained as a kind of a base since Queens is closer to the tower than the compound.
Tag list: Send me an ask if you want to be added. 
@trashinaglass and @peter-pan-hoe ♡
Dialogue prompt:
8. “I thought I’d lost you”
Word count: 1,860
The intel was terrible at best. When have you ever heard of a hydra agent defecting.  That didn't matter anymore. What mattered is that your team, the Avengers, got the intel about chemical weapons Hydra was developing and get out of the base as quickly as possible. 
Taking revenge on the people who tortured you is one of the sweetest things ever. You were Y/n. Last name you never knew. Part of a species of bat-human hybrids that you were the sole survivor of, thanks to hydra of course. Mainly a human body with slightly pointed ears, retractable claws, an echolocation trackability, better hearing, sharp teeth, bat-shaped wings protruding from your back, skin that can turn to stone, and slight healing powers, which were amplified if you turned completely to stone for some time. You took the name Gargoyle after Peter showed you The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was his job to catch you, Steve, and Bucky up on all of the pop culture stuff you missed.
You and Peter had the bottom floor almost cleared with the task of searching for hostages. You liked the curly-haired nerd. You two were around the same age when the Avengers raided the Hydra base you were kept captive in. He was the one to hoist your bloody body over his shoulders and carry you out of there. You both valued stealth and sticking to ceilings. You both often trained together and we're interested in both of your talents, yours of which was blacksmithing and Anatomy. You both tested your powers to see how far you could push each other and discover what your limits were. Peter could spend an hour upside-down before he started to feel fatigued and your healing ability worked better if you have a lot of what was hurt. For example, a kidney would heal a lot faster than a heart because there are two kidneys and one heart. 
Okay, back to the mission. No hostages or test subjects have been found as you and Peter kept making your way around your floor. It was mainly storage rooms with few people in the hallways. Not as exciting for you, but you didn't want to go into a room where you two couldn't handle what was inside.
You and Peter got on the ceiling in front of the last room you had to check off your floor. When all of a sudden the door burst open on its own and the air was filled with bullets. Two big guys with miniguns. TWO?!?! Normally it would be one and a lot of smaller henchmen covering him. You looked at Peter for some silent sign of a game plan. He drew a 'Z' with his fingers and pointed to his web shooter. Then made the cracking fist motion with his hands. You nodded and made a silent prayer that this worked because you hated having to play fair when taking out minigunners. Peter shot the two guys with taser webs, which brought them both to the floor. You two then dropped down and started going ham on betting these two up. You just hit the back of their head until their occipital lobe knocked out their vision. Fury would be by later to arrest everyone, but you wanted to make sure they stayed down. You cut up their arms and legs a bit just so it would make it difficult for any of the men to escape. You disarmed the miniguns and Peter webbed down the guys as best as he could. 
"Wonder what they were guarding?" 
"I don't know Gargoyle, but we better be careful."
You gently pushed the door open revealing a planning room covered in blueprints. Some were for cannons and others were for what looked like experiments. Turning humans into other creatures, which in turn would be used for Hydra. 
"Make sure to have Karen scan all these."
Before you could analyze the plans in front of you, you were knocked to the ground. Your body went into full fight mode preparing to stab whoever tackled you. Good thing your mind caught up to your instincts and realized it was Peter who was on top of you. Your senses were thrown off as all you could hear was bullet shells hitting the ground and an AK-47 going on full blast. You extended your arm and hit a button to make a small sharp disc fly out from above your wrist. The disk shot under the table and took the last man standing down. You kicked the gun away and gave the guy a few scars with your Assassin's Creed wrist knives. 
It was only then when you realized that Peter didn't get up. He was groaning in the middle of the floor where you left him.  He was on his side, but you could see the number of bullets in his left side. You turned Peter over and realized he's bleeding a lot faster than he should be. 
"Hit near the pancreas and spleen. Shit." If there was one thing you remembered from all your time studying Anatomy, it was those two organs have a lot of blood going through them. "Nonononono. Kid, you gotta stay with me. You gotta stay awake." You hit his face a bit to keep him conscious. 
You didn't want to move him because that could make it worse and you were definitely not qualified to remove bullets on a battlefield from an advanced human. So you did the next best thing. You held the button on your earpiece. "Code Blue. Underoos's been hit. I repeat. Code Blue. Underoos's been hit." 
"What? Where are you guys?" Tony's panicked voice wasn't helping your demeanor.
"Basement; in a room full of blue-." Your eyes grew wide for a split second as you saw the guy who shot Peter with a grenade in his hand and his thumb in the ring.
"Hail Hydra." 
You didn't have time to think. You scooped up Peter and ran as fast as you could before the pin could be pulled. You both barely made it to the doorway before the whole room exploded. You wings protected the two of you from most of the flames, didn't mean it didn't hurt. 
"Kids, you ok?" There came the Dad voice from Clint again. Clint, you liked to call the perfect mix of sass and fatherly advise.
You slowly lifted your wings but kept them up to keep the rubble dust out of your eyes. You looked over at Peter who you could tell was still losing consciousness. "We're fine. The basement's clear. I can run him back to the quinjet and rush him to the medbay of you guys can meet me there." 
"We're done here. Everyone meet at the jet and we're rushing the kid back. Do you need cover?" Natasha was one of the few people to keep Tony's mind straight besides Pepper.
"No. I can run him back up. The basement's clear." Just as I scooped Peter back up and started to run to the stairs, remote turrets came online. "Of people."
Your bare feet skidded across the dirty floor as you made a break for the Northwest stairs while trying to avoid the bodies that littered the floor. Your wings covered you both, but the bullets that hit your legs still hurt. Your heart pounded in your ears as the only person you were worried for was Peter. Did he lose too much blood? Was his body healing around the bullets? Would he ever wake up from this? You pushed your thoughts to the back of your head and focused on running. 
The snow of Ireland made your bare feet bleed, but you were numb to pain at this point as you layed Peter down in the jet. You tried to focus all of your healing energy to your hands, but it wasn't helping. You just decided to step back and let Bruce and Tony try their hardest to help as F.R.I.D.A.Y flew you back to the tower.
They took Peter to the Intensive Care Unit and only when they gave him a transfusion of blood and took all 12 bullets out of his side were you allowed to see him. He had a slight concussion and his face was bruised from the fall. You couldn't do anything to help him but hold his hand with the IV still in.
"Do you remember when we met? It was my first day. Still getting used to the compound. You were hanging from the ceiling as I was quenching a blade in the garage and scared the shit out of me I almost left the blade too long in the oil. I was a mess then. Still thinking that I was undeserving of love. That hydra had used me too much that I wasn't worth anything anymore. Even before Hydra my parents never made me feel good about myself." A shaky breath left your cut lip as you let tears silently slip out. "You're too good for this world Peter. You go out of your way for the little guy. You made me realize no matter how many people kick you in the jaw, even if it's one person or just yourself that wants you to keep going, you get the hell back up. I am that now for you. Please wake up. Please. Just don't be dead. Please." You were crying waterfalls at that point that any words you tried to make came out shaky.
"You are my sunshine 
My only sunshine 
You make me ha... ha-ppy
When skies are gray
You'll never know dear
How much I love you 
Please don't take
God please don't take 
My sunshine away."
A week he was asleep. A week too long. His body was healing fine and fast. His brain just needs to realize he's ok and wake up. May visited a lot and talked to you. She felt like another mother to you. In fact, all the women you met through the Avengers were your mother. Well, Shuri was a little older than you, so she's your older sister.  You refused to eat and got ticked off at anyone who tried to get you to. Of course you couldn't die, but starving was slow and it hurt. Eventually, Wanda had to put you in a dreamlike trans in order for them to put an IV in you. You couldn't leave Peter, you couldn't.
One morning you woke up from the side of Peter's bed and saw his eyes open and him sitting up. 
"You okay?" 
"Yeah. I woke up in the night and the nurse brought me water and said you haven't left me since I got here." His hand went up and whipped away a tear that you didn't realize was falling.
"You got me there Parker. Don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I'd lost you."
"I won't and you can't get rid of me that easily." He kissed your forehead as you kept smiling through the tears. "Now we better eat before we get suffocated in Aunt May and Mr. Star's hugs." 
"Agreed."
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jw231992 · 6 years
Text
My First Week
So, as almost none of you know, I ended up starting a new job at a call center. I have never worked at a call center before, so I essentially have no idea what to expect, but as I go through the week, I was pretty surprised to see what this particular center does to stay running.
So I have to get the big one out of the way first because of how attached to my phone I actually am. So the major one is no phones on the floor, even if it is in your pocket. It's a little different but I understand why, considering after training, I will be working with some sensitive information regarding customer accounts, so no phones for me. It's not like I won't have it with me during break times, it's just it will probably be hiding in a locker (which I should get on the Monday following the publication of this post) and will stay there until break times. If any of the team leaders, or heaven forbid, on-site clients, see it, it can potentially lead to the entire campaign being pulled from the site and everyone involved losing their job. They take this seriously, and I really don't want to lose what looks like a pretty sweet gig in my opinion. So... phone in my locker! Yay!
Another major change I have had to go through is sitting down for hours at a time. I use to work for Wal-Mart on the front end and I worked my way up from being a cashier to a front end supervisor, which was actually kind of fun, but this meant I was constantly on my feet, walking around, wearing out my shoes because of what I put them through. I don't mean to do it on purpose, but it just happens, and it always starts off with me losing an aglet (the overlooked and underappreciated tip at the end of any lace, specifically shoe). I thought me being on my feet all the time would be exhausting, but I never knew that sitting down would be exhausting. Seriously! My legs ended up craving stretching and when I would get up to go to break, my legs would almost sing in relief, and makes me realize that I take the use of my legs for granted. So that's why I walk about twenty minutes from the bus stop to work! Plus I get to hatch my eggs easier that way (don't judge me for still playing Pokemon Go) and I get a good amount of exercise.
One of the downsides of leaving a job and getting a new one is leaving behind the coworkers at your old job. I made a lot of friends working at Wal-Mart, and they're all great people, and I do plan on visiting them when I can. What I didn't expect is to get along with so many people so quickly at this new place. So for the first few weeks of being here, we have to go through training, and we're arranged in tables that can hold up to seven people, and I pick a table close to the front because my inner nerd is showing and the six others at my table are just so amazing. We all like to play games, there's no real need for ice breakers and we all say it's almost like some sort of magnetism that drew us all together, and not the lack of seats as some were the last to come in to the training room. We've already exchanged numbers and when we get paid, we shall all go out and just chill. I've never really had this happen when I started a new job before, so it's a nice change of pace. Plus we're all a little competitive, but more on that later.
So breaks are a thing that many people get worried about, and working for Wal-Mart when I did, I almost always lost out on my last fifteen minute break. At Wal-Mart, at least the one I worked at, for a full 8 hour shift (technically 9 hours), we would get one fifteen minute break, one hour of unpaid lunch, and another fifteen minute break. Legally, they have to give these breaks to us, or else they could face some serious legal trouble but whatever trouble comes Wal-Mart's way is usually from something other than a break. The one thing I want to focus on is lunch, as i am use to a full hour of lunch, so I get a good wind-down time before clocking back in to face the... for lack of better words, experience at Wal-Mart. At the call center, I only get a half hour lunch, but I still get the two fifteens. A half hour on lunch is a drastic change so I'm not always exactly prepared for lunch (as in bring your damn lunch, Joseph). I'm awful at bringing my own lunch so I am gonna have to change that in the long run, so... leftovers! Sounds good, right? Or I could always run to the tropical smoothie (not sponsored) across the parking lot and grab a smoothie. Or there's a pizza place near there, too and one of the trainers said that we can call ahead and let them know that we would like a pizza by the time our lunch is, so we don't have to spend fifteen minutes waiting for a pizza we would have to eat on the way back to the building. Plus I don't have a car so I would have to speed walk, faster than I normally do. Pro tips from people who have been here longer than me!
So the friendly competition! During this week, if we had free time after the lesson plan has run its course, we would be able to "play test" some games (essentially, we got to play video games and get paid for it). The last day of the week, we got to play a game on the PlayStation Vita, and it had three timed minigames on it, which we all competed to beat each other at. So one of the other guys at the table, Brian, and I were the first at our tables to try the games. The first game, you had numbered bubbles and had to pop them in sequential order (spoiler alert, all of the games have to be done in sequential order) and sometimes two bubbles would appear with one number and two different bubbles with the same number would also appear so you had to pop the bubble twice or at the same time, respectively. The second one had a wheel of the numbers 1 through 10 on it and you would have to spin the wheel all around to get all the numbers flicked off. The third game would have two different holes, a red and a blue one. You would press the touch pad (located at the back of the system) of the Vita to get two balls to go through numbered hoops. If a hoop that had a smaller number wasn't passed through, you couldn't clear the other hoop. Remember how I said these games were timed? Well everyone got really competitive and me being the first one at my table to get a shot, I started out okay with a time of one minute and twenty five seconds. Almost the entirety of the room failed to beat that time, so I was feeling pretty confident, until someone beat my time by ten seconds and so I wanted to beat that time. Our table was the gamer table so we averaged the best when it came to overall times. After about a half hour of this, the winning time was only fifty-five seconds. A time that I could not come close to (my final time was one minute and seven seconds). I had a lot of fun and I wanna play that game again to see if I can't beat that score, but chances are I probably won't unless I owned a PlayStation Vita.
So the next week is suppose to be how they handle their calls and such, so it's gonna be a little more serious than it was during the first week. However, I think I'm going to enjoy it here. They have a very relaxed dress code, I get a cool lanyard with a card that can get me to the floor, everyone likes each other, or they don't, they're at least civil. I cannot wait to see what else the new workplace has in store for me.
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grootiez · 6 years
Text
The Joys of Raising a Teenaged Groot- Chapter 8: Communication
Nebula cautiously approaches Groot’s room. The teenager’s bedroom door was closed as a sign to the other Guardians that he did not want to be disturbed.
“Groot?” Nebula softly knocks as she whispers against the door that was adorned with various posters of rock bands, graffiti that Groot drew on there himself, (even though all it said was “I am Groot” in different ways), and a tiny sign of Bob Ross in the middle of the door that said “A Happy Little Tree lives here.” There was loud music coming from the other side of the door, even though Rocket just revoked his music privileges because of the attitude Groot gave the other Guardians as soon as he walked through the front door the day that he was arrested.
Inside, Nebula saw that Groot was successful in sawing off the wrought iron bars that were on his window to prevent him from sneaking out of the house. She was almost rendered deaf by the loudness of the music that Groot had on his stereo. The music was some mashup of hard rock, heavy metal, Emo, gothic, and some sort of punk rock all rolled up into one.
Groot’s latest project wasn’t his homework, no, as he already told Rocket that he’d already finished it while he was in detention today. Nebula walked over to where the teenager threw his backpack unceremoniously. She then opened it up to discover that Groot’s textbooks were virtually untouched and his notebooks where he was supposed to write his homework on were clean with no pencil marks on it. Groot was more interested in cutting something as  Nebula heard a sawing noise coming from his bed that he was sitting on.
Nebula tapped her nephew’s shoulder. “Hey.” Groot jumped, startled by his aunt as she sat next to him. “What’cha doing?” She pretended to show an interest in Groot’s life.
“I am Groot.” Groot said as he hid something underneath his pillow.
Nebula tried to hide her frustration with trying to talk to a moody teenager that can only say three words. “Okay, I don’t know what you mean by that, but-.” Her frustrations become visible. “Ugh, I don’t know what you want!” She yelled at him before she regained her composure and said calmly. “Can you write down what you’re thinking to me?”
Groot glared at his aunt. He always feels insulted when anyone asks him to communicate his thoughts in any other way instead of just using his voice. Rocket understands him, why not everyone else?
Even though he’s enrolled at the most prestigious school in Xandar, he’s forced by the administrators and teachers to use a special communication device that is activated by him pressing various buttons that represent different words on a computer-like machine whenever he wants to talk to anyone or answer any questions in class. This is the main reason why his grades have been falling in school. Class participation is about 1/3 of his overall grade in each of his subjects in school. If he has to answer questions with a talking device that makes him sound like a robot to the other students,which makes him stand out like a sore thumb, and, as a result, Groot’s been a long-time target of bullies purely for this reason.
It wasn’t always like this. When Groot first started at the Xandar Academy in kindergarten, he had a one-on-one aide that studied his species’ language and could communicate with him and convey his answers and wants and needs to his teachers and the other kids. But by the time Groot had entered the 5th grade, his aide was getting old and nearing her required retirement at 65. The school tried to find another aide for Groot, but there was no one that studied Groot’s language. Rocket was called in for an emergency meeting with the Headmaster and all of Groot’s teachers to come up with a plan. The only options that they gave him were to either homeschool Groot until he was old enough to graduate, place him in the special education classroom, or to have him communicate his thoughts via a communication device. Well, the Department of Xandarian Education would’ve shown up at the Guardians’ house faster than lightning as soon as they heard that the pyromaniac raccoon was teaching Groot how to build various weapons, bombs, and Death Buttons. If Groot was placed in the special ed class, he would’ve had an even bigger target on his back for being bullied by the other kids, and Rocket has seen enough of other kids bullying Groot during the time when the tiny tree was taken from their custody and placed in that so-called “orphanage” where Groot was bullied by the other orphans and the adults in charge of the facility.
So the only option was to have Groot use the communication device to talk to the other kids and adults when he was in school. The device in question was packed away in its traveling case, as the school allowed Groot to take it home in the hopes that it would become his main form of communication. But Groot refuses to use it when he’s at home because he has Rocket translate for him as it’s always been. Rocket doesn’t mind doing this, but deep down, he wishes that Groot could talk like everybody else. For one thing, everyone could understand him, and two, Groot wouldn’t have to rely on Rocket to do everything for him, even if Groot’s request was as simple as a glass of water.
Groot then sighed in frustration as he got up and grabbed a pen and a blank notepad from his desk before sitting back down on his bed next to his aunt.
Nebula tries to talk calmly to Groot. “Now, what’s been bothering you?” She struggled to ask without getting angry.
Groot then writes down his response in Xandarian Script and hands the notepad back to Nebula, who then reads it. Groot, who needs a special pen to write because of the size of his hands struggles with using the normal-sized pen and his handwriting comes out messier than usual, even worse than Peter’s handwriting.
“So, Rocket’s been a real pain, huh?” She asked as Groot nodded. “Well, there’s not much I can do or say about that.” She and Groot share a rare chuckle together. “He just wants what’s best for you. From what I’ve seen, you’re everything to him. He just wants to protect you.” Nebula added as Groot asked for the pen and notepad back.
The teenager wrote another question and handed it back to his aunt. “Yes, I agree, Groot.” Nebula nodded as she read the notepad. “The Stupid Fox needs to give you a little bit more freedom.” Groot smiled as Nebula, who, he never liked and was scared to death of when he was just a sapling, agreed with him for a change. “But, you have to obey the rules that he sets down for you.”
Groot groaned and rolled his eyes when Nebula said this. She continued as she laid an arm across his shoulder in an embrace, “He won’t be in charge of you forever. As soon as you’re an adult, you can start to make your own decisions. Maybe leave the house and live on your own. But not until then. Okay?”
Groot nodded solemnly. He then lifted his leg and showed Nebula the ankle monitor that he was now forced to wear until his probation was over with.
“Ah, yes. I remember those, everytime my siblings and I went out on a mission for Thanos and we got caught, some of his most senior advisors would come and bust us out of whatever hellhole of a prison we were held in.” Nebula told Groot. “However, we did feel Thanos’ wrath as soon as we returned home to his base. As punishment, he would force us to wear these ankle monitors while we performed hard manual labor until he felt that we were toughened up from the torture.”
Nebula then looked at the ankle monitor that was on Groot’s leg. She then examined the monitor. “They were very much like this one. Big, bulky, very technologically advanced, but easily able to be hacked into and overridden. After time and time again of being forced to wear these, I learned how to override the microchip embedded inside the computer and could take it off as soon as I wasn’t guarded by Thanos’ lieutenants. But as soon as they came for me to continue the labor, I put it back on without them knowing that I knew how to take it off. But those nights of freedom were absolute bliss.”
Groot then looked at her. Nebula didn’t need him to write down what he was about to ask his aunt. “I know what you’ thinking. And no, I’m not going to remove the ankle monitor from you.” Groot then looked back down at the device, picking at it. Nebula then embraced him again, making the Flora Colossus look at her. “I’m a convicted criminal all throughout the galaxy, Groot. You’ve been given a chance to right your wrongs and not be sent to prison. No one in this so-called ‘Family’ wants to see you screw it up.”
Groot thinks about what Nebula said. After a minute, Gamora could be heard down the hallway, calling his name.
A minute later, there was a knock on his door, followed by Gamora gently opening it and seeing her sister and the teenager on his bed bonding, which surprises her.
“Groot, Rocket’s been waiting in the car for half an hour now. You have to go to the soup kitchen for your community service, remember?” Gamora’s gaze then went over to her sister. “Are, are you two talking to each other now?” She marveled at the pair as Groot stood up.
Groot grunted at the two before storming off to get in Rocket’s car so that his adoptive father could drive him to start his community service to the soup kitchen.
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kaleenjackson · 6 years
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Advent: Day 8
This is so late! I am so sorry my dear readers. I am hoping that this was worth the wait and there will be a second one posted tonight as well.
Pairings: Winterfrost (Bucky x Loki), Stony (Steve X Tony -Background)
Warnings: Language, homophobic slurs
Note: "The Twelve Pains of Christmas" - Bob Rivers
Dec 8
Presents
“The ninth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me… Finding parking spaces!” Tony sang along with the song on the radio as they circled the mall for the fourth time. Living out in the middle of nowhere in a secret compound made some things interesting. Including shopping for gifts.
Steve had insisted that they go to a mall, like normal people. The only one of them who came close to pulling off normal was Steve. Otherwise they were a former assassin, a billionaire, playboy, etcetera, etcetera and a would-be alien god-king. Tony was excited to get out to where the people were. Bucky had been suckered in by Steve and had dragged Loki with them saying that they couldn't leave him without supervision.
Loki knew it was actually because he was just gonna be a third wheel with the other two. Having been the useless appendage in more than one situation with Thor he had agreed.
“We should go to the Carol Sing at the united church tomorrow night guys.” Steve said as “The 12 Pains of Christmas” finished.
“A church Stevie? Really? Of everyone in this vehical you and Loki are the most likely to be found in one.” Bucky groaned.
“Yeah, you would be there to pray and Loki would be tryin' to convert the priest.” Tony added sarcastically. Loki snickered and nodded. “See I'm right. Why the hell would anyone of us go to a church?”
“It's caroling Tony, not even an actual service. I think it would be fun for everyone to get out the compound.”
“Another field trip? Punk some of us are happier just staying out of the public eye. Just ‘cause you and your boyfriend are well loved…”
“Buuuuck…” Steve whined.
“We'll see. Lets just get this done and over with.” Bucky sighed as they finally found a parking spot.
“Alrighty Reindeer Games, make us blend in.” Tony turned and grinned at Loki.
Loki made a show of cracking his knuckles and looked each man in the SUV in the eye. A moment later they were examining the slight differences he had given them.
Bucky was clean shaven and his hair short like it had been in the forties. It was eerie to see that reflection again. Steve's blond hair was now brown and his beard made him look like a lumberjack.
“You shaved my goatee! What the fuck Loki! And my hair! Oh My God look at what he did to my hair Capcicle. It looks ridiculous.” Tony looked near tears.
“I like it Tony. Fits the whole mad scientist thing you've been doing lately. And look at Loki, he looks like a school teacher.” Steve attempted to placate the scientist.
Bucky looked at the Asgardian and was impressed. His long black hair was pulled back and a pair of simple gold rimmed glasses sat over his now green-blue eyes. Just those simple changes and suddenly four of the most feared and well-known faces might just pass for a lumberjack, a teacher, a mechanic and… well Stark was still Stark but he might not be quite so easily recognized.
“But my hair…” Tony whimpered.
Steve kissed him. They hadn't kissed in front of anyone. Bucky looked from them to Loki who winked at him.
“C’mon my madman, let's go get Christmas gifts boys.” Steve kissed him again gently.
“He likes my hair like this. Did you know he would?” Tony looked at Loki as the climbed out of the SUV. Loki shrugged. Bucky stood next to him.
“I have a bad feeling about today. I don't like crowds and that…” He pointed at the building, “Is full of nothing but crowds.”
“You'll be fine Bucky. Besides, I don't intend to wandering off seeing as I need to be constantly supervised.” Loki smiled. “By the way, look at your hands.”
Looking down Bucky realized he had forgotten his gloves, but Loki had dealt with that too. “That… is so… wrong Loki. It's so weird.” Bucky smiled. “Thanks Mischief.” He placed his now very normal looking left hand on Loki's shoulder.
It took fifteen minutes for Bucky to stop talking. For a moment Loki thought he was just looking for another topic until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Bucky's eye were unfocused as Loki turned to look at him.
“Bucky… are you alright?” Loki asked as softly as he dared. “Bucky?”
Bucky shook his head. “Too many exits… too many places too be hidden…” Loki gently pushed Bucky down into a chair.
“Stay there and don't move. I will be back with Rogers.” Loki kept his tone firm, like a command. Bucky nodded.
Grateful for having long ass legs for once, Loki sprinted through the mall looking of the secret power couple of the year. Cursing, he wished he hadn't made them blend in so well.
“Reindeer!” He heard someone yell. Stopping and turning he saw both Steve and Tony running after him.
“Oh thank the gods. Something's wrong with Bucky. He's all… blank…” Loki managed to pant out.
“He's having a flashback I think. Where did you leave him?” Steve said, his calm demener not hiding the panic in his eyes.
“Follow.” Loki took off again with the other two trying to keep up.
Bucky didn't notice they had arrived until Steve put his hands on his shoulders.
“Buck? You in there?”
“Too much risk of incidental damage. Too easily spotted…” Bucky shook his head and looked at Steve. “I need to get out. Too target rich…”
“Is there another place where we could shop?” Loki asked.
“Yeah. There were some little shops on our way here.” Tony said quietly. Seeing Bucky fighting to not have a panic attack was a bit too close to home for him.
“One of us should get him-“ Loki cut Steve off.
“I can take him down to the other shops. I dislike the crowds as well and he brought me here to keep an eye on me. Does that work for both of you?”
Tony and Steve looked at each other. Tony shrugged.
“Fine. Just don't do anything… unusual Loki.”
“I know there is a tracker in my phone. You'll see anything I do anyway.” Loki snarled at Steve.
“Breathe boys.” Tony said calmly. “Get outta here Reindeer Games. Take the Manchurian Candidate with ya and have fun. Cap and I will shop till we drop and come get you when we finish. Sound good?” He clearly flirted with Steve as he spoke. Loki nodded sharply.
Helping Bucky to his feet he spoke softly. “See you in a few hours then Stark.”
“See you then. C’mon Mon Capitain. And Loki…” Stark said as he lead Steve away. “Nice talkin' to yeah.”
They were a few blocks from the mall when Bucky finally shook the last of his weird moment off.
“Thanks for getting them to agree to let us leave.”
“What was I supposed to do. Let your mind slip to a dangerous place. I know you're armed. We both are but it would have been reckless to allow you to become danerous.”
Bucky shook his head. “Still not used to people being nice to ya, are you Mischief?”
Loki looked at him.
“Really. Thank you for what you did. You didn't have to say you would stay with me or even go get help. You even talked to them.”
“Well I needed too… I'm not a villian remember. I knew that I needed to do something. Besides, I wanted to get out if that damned place… Thanks for not asking Steven to accompany you instead.” Loki let his head fall.
“Like I wanted to interrupt their date. Then I would have to deal with mopey Steve, and they only thing worse than a mopey Steve is a mopey Tony.” Bucky laughed. “Relax Loki. I'm not mad. C'mon lets go grab something to drink.”
“I still can't believe that worked to convince them to sell you a frozen hot chocolate.” Bucky said as he sipped on a real hot chocolate.
“I did some reading and apparently it is actually a thing in some colder climates to indulge in a frozen beverage in the cold. Making the excuse of being Canadian was just icing on the cake, helps sell the story.” Loki smiled around the straw of his drink. Like it had the night before something about it drew Bucky's eye. “You wanna try some Barnes?” Loki offered the cup to him. Without taking the cup Bucky took a sip.
In the back of his mind Loki wondered if this wasn't starting to get beyond friendly territory. That maybe he was letting a bit too much of his feelings show.
Shopping turned out to be easy. Bucky had a general idea of everyone's likes which was helpful and Loki was quick with knowing what he wanted to do for each member of the team. Every single gift was hilariously perfect for it's recipient.
“You know, your boyfriend looks just like this guy.” The cashier smiled as he bagged the action figure of Loki. It was Tony's gift. Loki was going to customize it so it had reindeer antlers and a red nose.
“He's not my boyfriend, just a good friend. And you think he looks like a crazy killer alien?” Bucky had just spent five minutes listening to Loki bitch about how they'd made him look like an idiot. Now this guy…
“Just ‘cause the dude was nuts doesn't mean he wasn't hot.” The guy leaned in as he spoke. “So is he to be honest.”
Bucky laughed. “I just wanna get my stuff and go man.”
The cashier chuckled as he took the cash. “Just sayin'. Have a great day gents.”
Loki winked at the cashier.
“Don’t encourage him Loki.” Bucky knocked his friend’s shoulder as they started down the street. “He liked the action figure.”
“That’s thing is an insult to my apperance. Please tell me he didn’t…”
“Said you look just like it.”
“Damn.” Loki shook his head. “So any other places that you too drag me, Barnes?”
“I just wanna find a bookstore.” Bucky leaned over and stole another sip of Loki’s drink.
“You know this was supposed to be my drink.” Loki smiled with an eyebrow cocked.
“You have good taste.”
Out of no where a slushball slammed into Loki’s cheek.
“Goddammed Faggots!” Some asshole yelled. Bucky was only sightly faster than Loki. He grabbed the thin man.
“Don’t.”
Loki cursed in some strange language. Bucky kept his grip on him tight.
“Fuckin’ twink. You need your ‘Daddy’ to keep you in line sweetheart.” The guy sneered as he walked up to them.
Bucky looked at his ward. “If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll go inside that shop and not do anything… unusual.”
“Barnes…” He snarled.
“That’s right you little ass-cunt. Do as he says and run along like a good boy.” Bucky was gonna stab this guy.
“Your highness, now.”
Loki understood by his guardian’s tone and the sound of his arm shifting that he needed to do as he was told. He backed away and entered whatever shop was behind him.
“How can I help you sir?” The shop keep asked as Loki stopped in the middle of the store. It was a pet store. “Hey man, I don’t want any trouble and your a… friend looks like he might be…”
“Trouble. Not as much as I can be sometimes.” Loki smiled but it faultered as he realized what the man had implied about him and Bucky.
“You alright mister?”
“No… I’m not.” Loki shook his head. “Do you have somewhere I might calm down?” He could feel himself loosing control of his abilities.
When Bucky returned to the pet store he was very shocked. Loki was laying on the floor with a kitten on his chest.
“Is he dead?” The shop keep laughed.
“No, but he might be asleep.”
“Neither. Please tell me you killed that man for his comments.” Loki said, not looking at either man, but rather the small white kitten on his chest.
“No, but his now ex fiancee might. Turns out her brother is gay and hearing what he called you, she was about ready to slash his throat in front of me. No blood on our hands.” Bucky knelt down. “What’s this little fluff-butt’s name?”
“She doesn’t have one yet. Her and her litter mates just arrived from the adoption centre this morning. She went right to him when I brought them out.”
Bucky gave the man a questioning look.
“I tell you, this works every time. We get people havin’ a bad day come in here all the time and I just sit them down, ask if they prefer cats or dogs and then bring a few avalible adoptees out to meet them. Gets a few who might not have found a home into the right hearts I think.”
“You look like you stuck your paw in an inkwell little Trixie kitten. I wish I could take you home with me but Stark would throw a shit fit if I walked in with a kitten.” Loki stroked the small critter. As Bucky admired how calm she made his ward he noticed that her front right paw was black.
“Wait you don’t mean The Stark do you?” The shopkeeper asked in awe.
“C’mon Mischief. Before either of us gets into any more trouble.”
“Holy shit. You guys know Stark? But that would make you…”
Bucky smiled deviously. “Nothing more than a ghost story and a rumor. You really can’t keep the kitten Loki, don’t even try it.”
The shopkeep started as Loki set the tiny kitten down on the counter. “Can you keep this to yourself or should I make it that this never happened."
“I am privy to a lot of info. People spill there guts to these little guys. If they can keep a secret, so can I."
Loki nodded and stepped outside. He wanted the kitten but knew Bucky would stop that from happening. It took Bucky a few minutes to join him.
“He won’t talk.”
“Good. Have you done any shopping Bucky?”
“I just need the bookstore.”
Tony was in a great mood when he found Bucky and Loki lounging in the bookstore. Bucky had two crates of books and Loki had bags from most of the shops in the small town.
“Looks like today went well.”
“You could say that. How ‘bout you and the Punk. Enjoy your date?”
“It wasn’t a date Barnes. Just two friends out shopping.”
“Anthony, you kissed Steven in the SUV. Accept the fact that this was an outing for the two of you.” Loki barely glanced over the top of the book he was reading.
“I could say the same of you two.”
“We aren’t a couple.” They said in unison. Tony laughed.
“C’mon. I need to get Capsicle home before one of us has to carry him inside. I might have pushed him a bit hard with the shopping. Passed out on me on the way over.”
“Good job Stark. Now he's gonna be up at three in the morning wantin’ me to go for a run.” Bucky groaned. “You two are gettin’ up with me if that's the case.”
“No way!” Tony said getting in.
Loki shook his head. There was nothing that Bucky could bribe him with that could get him up that early.
Tags:
@reogni @thegingerslytherin
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chocolatequeennk · 7 years
Text
Forever and Never Apart, 25/42
Summary: After taking a year to recover from the Master, the Doctor and Rose are ready to travel again. But Time keeps pushing them forward, and instead of going back to their old life, they slowly realise that they’re stepping into a new life. Friends new and old are meeting on the TARDIS, and when the stars start going out, the Doctor and Rose face the biggest change of all: the return of Bad Wolf.
Series 4 with Rose, part 7 of Being to Timelessness; sequel to Taking Time (AO3 | FF.NET | TSP)
Betaed by @lastbluetardis, @rudennotgingr, @jabber-who-key, and @pellaaearien. Thank you so much!
We are finally to the Library, which gets a major rewrite. And that means this is still a prompt fill for @doctorroseprompts–imagine Doomsday didn’t happen, and rewrite one S3/S4 episode or scene.
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Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18 | Ch 19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch 22 | Ch 23 | Ch 24
Chapter Twenty-five: Donna and Jenny Have Been Saved
Jenny knew as soon as her dad hit the teleport button that something had gone wrong. Even as she caught a quick glance of the TARDIS console room, she felt a tug, like something had grabbed a hold of her and wasn’t going to let her into the ship. She heard Donna scream as she gritted her teeth against the sensation, and she hoped that either Donna had made it to the TARDIS, or that they’d be together, wherever they were going.
Ten seconds later, her eyes blinked open in a large, airy bedroom painted in soothing pastels. She looked down at herself, and instead of being dressed in her own jeans and t-shirt, she was wearing flannel pyjamas.
What is going on? How did I get undressed and where am I?
Jenny took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on the telepathic presence of her father and Rose. They were still there in her mind, just like they should be.
Her dad had told her that if she were ever abducted or lost, she should reach out for him and Rose so they could start looking for her. When she’d asked the first question to come to mind—rather practical she thought, to wonder if it was possible to block telepathy—deep, remembered pain had echoed in her mind from both of them.
She’d quickly gathered that while it was possible, most people wouldn’t have the means or knowledge to do so. And lying in this strange bed, it only took her a moment to find their telepathic signatures and ask them to find her.
The heavy wooden door swung open, and Jenny jumped to her feet as a tall, bald, black man entered the room. She scanned him quickly, taking in the crisp white shirt and the placid smile on his face. His non-threatening posture did nothing to reassure Jenny, since, as far as she could tell, this perfect stranger had yanked her away from the safety of her home.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who are you, and how did you bring Donna and me here? Where’s the rest of my family?”
Brown eyes blinked behind rimless glasses. “I’m Doctor Moon. I’ve been treating you and your Aunt Donna since you came here.” He tilted his head. “What do you remember, Jenny?”
Jenny drew herself up and wished she had her boots on—they would have added a few inches to her petite size. She copied the way Rose would tilt her head back when people dared condescend to her and reached for the confident tone of voice her dad always managed.
“My name is Jenny Tyler. My dad and mum are the Doctor and Rose Tyler. We live on the TARDIS with our friend Donna.”
Doctor Moon circled her as she talked. “Interesting,” he mused quietly. “Integration seems to have failed entirely with you. I’ll have to try again.”
He walked back to the door and smiled at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jenny.”
Jenny shook her head slowly after he left, trying to understand what had just happened. Integration?
She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she was in a cafeteria. Doctor Moon sat across the table from her. “Hello, Jenny. I’m glad you could join me for coffee today. Are you feeling better than you were yesterday?”
Jenny stared at him. “That was less than a minute ago, Doctor Moon. You left my room, I blinked, and then we were here.”
Doctor Moon pursed his lips. “No, Jenny. You’ve forgotten the last twenty-four hours. That’s a symptom of the trauma you received.” He gestured at her. “Look, you’re even wearing different clothes.”
Jenny glanced down and realised her hospital issue pyjamas had changed from red to blue-and-white plaid. She raised an eyebrow—she knew there was no way she’d been in the hospital for more than ten minutes.
“Can I see Donna?” she asked, ignoring his lie. “You said she was in a room like mine. I’d like to see her.”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, not when your mind is still so affected by your accident. Your Aunt Donna has had some false memories as well, and if the two of you met right now, you would only reinforce the fiction your damaged minds are trying to create.”
Jenny could feel her forehead scrunch up in a frown. “I’d really like to see her,” she pressed.
Doctor Moon smiled regretfully. “When you’re feeling better, we’ll see what we can arrange.” He looked down at the watch strapped to his wrist. “I’m afraid I need to cut today’s meeting short. I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”
Jenny watched him stand up and walk away, then she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she wasn’t surprised to find herself walking with the doctor across a plush lawn. A surreptitious look at herself revealed she was finally dressed in normal clothes, instead of pyjamas.
Her first instinct was to ask how they’d gotten outside, but then she remembered what Doctor Moon had said. If she wanted to make sure Donna was all right, she had to pretend to buy into the lie.
“It’s a lovely day for a walk,” she said, not commenting on the time or location at all.
She felt Doctor Moon looking at her, but she kept a smile on her face as she looked up at the sky. The sun didn’t even feel warm. How did they expect people to believe this was real?
“Have you had any more dreams?” he prodded. “About the Doctor and Rose, and the blue box you flew in through time and space?”
Jenny’s temper flared at the casual, condescending way he referred to her entire life. But she reminded herself that the goal today was to see Donna, and she shook her head. “No, Doctor Moon,” she said—and it wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t even slept, so how could she have dreamt?
Doctor Moon smiled. “It is a lovely day,” he agreed. “I’ve asked a nurse to bring Donna out, if you would like to talk to her.”
Jenny swung her gaze around to look at the doctor. “Yes, please!”
A second later, they were on the patio, sitting at a table sipping tea. Donna reached across the table and grabbed Jenny’s free hand. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Jenny,” she said. “This lot wouldn’t tell me anything about you, except that your head injury was worse than mine and it was taking you time to heal.”
It was hard to smile when Jenny knew Donna didn’t really know who she was, but somehow she managed it. “I’m doing so much better,” she promised Donna.
“As soon as they let us out of here, we’ll get a place together,” Donna promised her.
“I’d like that,” Jenny managed to say. She wanted to grab Donna and shake her until she remembered their real life on the TARDIS with the Doctor and Rose and all the running, but she just smiled instead.
“Donna,” Doctor Moon said, “would you like to go for a walk down to the river with me?”
Donna smiled beatifically and stood up. Then she looked at Doctor Moon, now wearing an overcoat and holding a bag of bread crumbs while ducks quacked noisily.
A steady breeze came off the water and they sun had slipped behind the clouds. Donna looked around, fighting her disorientation. “You said river, and suddenly we’re feeding ducks.” There was something not right, but she just… couldn’t put her finger on it.  
“Doctor Moon. Morning.”
Donna turned and suddenly felt a little breathless when she spotted a man who was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome walking towards them carrying fishing gear. And he’s got some meat on him, too, she thought, admiring his solid physique. Unlike that skinny bloke… She closed her eyes quickly and shoved the errant thought of the Doctor into the back of her mind before Doctor Moon could pick up on it.
“Donna Noble, Lee McAvoy.” Doctor Moon smirked, then moved off to the side.
Donna smiled at the newcomer. “Hello, Lee.”
His eyes were warm when he smiled at her. “Hello, D, D, D…”
“Ooo, you’ve got bit of a stammer there.” She looked over at Doctor Moon. “Bless.”
“D, D,” Lee persisted.
Donna waved the attempts away with a hand. “Oh, skip to a vowel. They’re easy.”
What felt like just a second later, she was back on the hospital grounds with Doctor Moon. The sun had come back out, but it was still cold enough that she was comfortable in her winter coat.
Donna bit her lip as she looked up at the doctor. She thought she liked Lee, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything about the rest of the afternoon.
“How did we leave it, him and me?
Doctor Moon smirked again. “I got the impression he was inviting you fishing tomorrow.”
oOoOoOoOo
The next twenty-five minutes were a nightmare and a headache for Jenny, as she watched Donna progress rapidly through her relationship with Lee McAvoy. Jenny had no real objections to Lee—he seemed perfectly nice—but was he even real? What if she and Donna got out of wherever they were, and Donna had fallen in love with someone who didn’t even exist?
But she couldn’t say a thing to warn Donna—Aunt Donna, she reminded herself—or she’d be back in the hospital faster than you could say… well, most things.
Jenny looked around at the cosy bungalow she’d moved into sometime around minute eighteen in this strange, pocket universe. Her act had successfully fooled Doctor Moon, and he had declared her fully integrated and stopped visiting her, thankfully. It was harder than she’d thought to continue pretending in front of him.
Pretending was how she was allowed to be part of Donna’s life, though, and that let her offer some kind of protection, at least. Today, she was supposed to be going to Lee and Donna’s wedding, but she knew there wasn’t any reason for her to try to get ready, because in just a minute…
The pew was hard against her back and the pale blue dress didn’t fit well. But despite her discomfort and misgivings, it was almost impossible not to be happy for Lee and Donna as they ran up the aisle together.
Twenty minutes or eight years later, Jenny was sitting in her own garden, listening to the shouts of Donna’s children echoing over the wall. She pressed a hand to her forehead; how had this gotten so out of control?
Suddenly, she realised there was another person in her garden—a tall, veiled woman dressed all in black. Jenny jumped up and pressed her back to the wall. “Who are you?”
“You don’t need to be afraid of me, Jenny Tyler,” the woman said, and the voice was familiar. “You are not like anyone else who has been in this computer simulation.”
“Is that what it is, then?” Jenny looked around, and it all made sense. Everything was perfect. The computer could program them to skip time, and then Doctor Moon would fill in the gaps of what had happened with his narrative explanation.
“Yes. You are in the central computer of the Library. You remember the Library, don’t you, Jenny?”
Jenny pressed her lips together to withhold a sob. Even though less than an hour had passed since her dad had activated the teleport, sometimes it really did feel like she’d been trapped here for nine years. Time is meaningless in the Vortex, Rose, she remembered her dad saying more than once. She didn’t really think this was what he’d meant.
So after being trapped in a bizarre virtual reality for an hour, hearing someone else talk about the real world was almost more than she could handle. But the other woman was waiting for an answer, so she nodded. “Who are you?” she asked.
The woman tilted her head. “I think you know the answer to that, if you really think.”
Jenny stared at her, trying to place the voice. She’d heard that voice before… she’d heard that voice dying, she realised suddenly.
“Miss Evangelista!” she gasped.
“Yes, or at least, I am what’s left of her,” the woman said.
Jenny frowned and started to ask what exactly she meant by that. But then the air next to her flickered, and she watched a figure appear out of thin air—a figure she knew very well.
“Dad!”
He had his head bent down so he could listen to the sonic, but when he heard her voice, he looked straight at her. “Jenny!”
She held out a hand and he ran towards her, but he disappeared before he reached her. Staring at the blank space where her father had been just a moment before, Jenny swallowed hard.
“How can we get out of here?” she asked Miss Evangelista.
oOoOoOoOo
After Rose reminded Melody of the squareness gun, she used it on every wall they came to. The Doctor crossed his fingers that it wouldn’t run out of battery power, though she didn’t seem to having the problem Jack did.
Finally, they reached a room with a large open space under the skylight, giving them plenty of light. “Okay, we’ve got a clear spot,” Melody announced, motioning for everyone to pile into the room.
The Doctor immediately let go of Rose’s hand and slid down to the floor, pointing the sonic at the shadows.
“In, in, in!” Melody continued. “Right in the centre. In the middle of the light, quickly. Don’t let your shadows cross. Doctor.”
“On it,” he replied, scanning for Vashta Nerada.
“There’s no lights here,” Melody said, pointing out what he’d noticed as soon as they entered the room. “Sunset’s coming. We can’t stay long.” The sonic flickered. “Have you found a live one?”
“Maybe. It’s getting harder to tell.” He tapped the sonic against his hand and scanned again. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked his tool.
Melody stood up and spun around. “We’re going to need a chicken leg. Who’s got a chicken leg? Thanks, Dave.”
A moment later, the Doctor watched a chicken leg fly through the air and hit the ground as only a bone.
“Okay,” Melody said as she stumbled backwards. “Okay, we’ve got a hot one. Watch your feet.”
“They won’t attack until there’s enough of them,” the Doctor said, brushing off her concern. “But they’ve got our scent now. They’re coming.”
You’re being rude, Rose told him gently as she rubbed his shoulders.
Behind their backs, both of Melody’s assistants were peppering her with questions—questions about them.
“So who are they?” Other Dave asked. “A group of people we’ve never met show up on our expedition, and we’re just supposed to trust them?”
“That’s the Doctor and Rose Tyler,” Melody said. “And yeah, you’re supposed to trust them.”
The Doctor stared into the shadows as he shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation between Melody Pond and her team. I’m being rude? At least I’m not talking about her where she can hear me.
Only ‘cause she’s not telepathic, Rose retorted, and he glanced up to see her teasing grin.
The results from the sonic screwdriver were getting spottier. The Doctor tried pulsing the button to see if that would help while Mr. Lux asked Melody who he and Rose were.
Oh, I feel so hurt that Mr. Lux isn’t impressed by our credentials, Rose snarked.
“The only people I’d want with me in a life-and-death situation,” Melody shot back. “Trust me, there’s a reason I asked them to meet us here. If there’s anyone who can get us out of here alive, it’s them.”
The Doctor knew Rose was trying to make light of the situation, but as he watched Melody out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t let it go. Listening to someone he’d never met talk about him and Rose as if she’d known them forever had been mildly curious before. Now that Donna and Jenny were gone because he’d followed this woman’s message to the Library, it was infuriating.
“You say they’re your friends, but they don’t even know who you are.”
The Doctor moved to the next set of shadows and nodded vigorously with Anita’s salient point. Exactly! They didn’t know who this woman was, so how could they trust her?
Melody looked up at him and shrugged when they made eye contact. She didn’t even look surprised that he was listening in. “Listen, all you need to know is this. I’d trust those two to the end of the universe.”
Really? the Doctor thought sarcastically. And have you been to the end of the universe? Because I have, and you weren’t there.
Stop snarking at Melody Pond and focus on finding Donna and Jenny, Rose ordered sharply, clearly tired of his sour disposition.
The Doctor shuffled over to the next set of shadows, but he didn’t get any better results there. I’m trying, but something’s interfering with the sonic.
“The Doctor doesn’t act like he trusts you,” Anita said astutely. “Rose might, but I don’t think he does.”
Melody tucked a strand of straight, brown hair back behind her ear. “Yeah, there’s a tiny problem. They haven’t met me yet, and the Doctor is extremely protective of his family.”
“What about Rose?” Anita asked.
They heard a smile in Melody’s voice when she answered. “Rose is extremely protective of the Doctor.”
You have to admit she’s right about that, Rose told him as she traded screwdrivers with him. They both heard Melody walk towards them, but ignored her while the Doctor tried Rose’s sonic on the shadows. To their consternation, her screwdriver seemed to be having the exact same problem.
“What’s wrong with it?” Melody asked.
The Doctor ignored her, tapping the screwdriver lightly and tried it again, but the violet diode only flickered briefly.
Rose sighed and looked at Melody. “There’s a signal coming from somewhere, interfering with it.”
Melody nodded once. “Then use the red settings.”
The Doctor’s gaze flicked over to her, then he went back to fiddling with Rose’s sonic. “It doesn’t have a red setting.”
“Well, use the dampers,” she said as she took her gloves off.
“It doesn’t have dampers.” The Doctor was already disinclined to be civil towards this woman who claimed to be from their future, and the way that she was now pretending to know everything about his sonic screwdriver, the tool he had designed and perfected over the years, grated.
She pulled the sonic screwdriver she’d used earlier out of her pocket. The diode that had been blue now looked red. “Hmmm. I guess mine has a few extra features then,” she said.
The Doctor snatched it from her hands and stood up. “So, some time in the future, I just give you my screwdriver.”
She snatched it back. “No. At some point in the future, you give me my own screwdriver.”
He rocked back on his heels and glared at her. “Why would I do that?”
“Present when I graduated from uni,” she said breezily. A hint of nostalgia entered her voice, but her smile was still smug, like she knew something they didn’t. “I’d always wanted one, but I’d never dared to ask. And then you came up to me, just the two of you, and said you had a special gift for me.” She arched an eyebrow. “I guess this is when I told you I wanted a sonic screwdriver.” A smirk crossed her face. “You know, if you’d told me before that this was what you meant when you said time travel had its up sides, I might have been more interested.”
The Doctor’s agitation washed over Rose, and combined with her own worry for Jenny and Donna, her temper sparked. She stepped in between the Doctor and Melody, standing with her feet shoulder width apart and her arms crossed over her chest.
“Oi! Leave ‘im alone!” The Doctor put a hand on her arm, and Rose took a deep breath but didn’t back down. “You just told Anita and Other Dave that I’m protective of the Doctor, and now you’re teasing him for your own amusement when you can tell how upset he is?”  
Melody opened and closed her mouth, then shook her head.
Rose sighed, and some of her anger drained out of her. “I know you’re upset and stressed and this has got to be difficult for you, when you were thinking you’d get the versions of us that you know. But we just lost our daughter and our friend.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard. “Neither of us are in the mood for jokes right now.”
The smirk disappeared from Melody’s face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, both of you.” She smiled wryly at Rose. “I’ve never been on the receiving end of one of your protective tirades. Think I’ll try to avoid it happening again.” She blinked rapidly as she turned back around to the rest of her expedition crew.  
There was a short, awkward pause, then the Doctor held up Rose’s screwdriver. “Know what’s interesting about our screwdrivers?” he asked as he started walking in circles around the group. “Very hard to interfere with. Practically nothing’s strong enough. Well, some hairdryers,” he allowed as he looked up at the skylight. “But I’m working on that. So there is a very strong signal coming from somewhere, and it wasn’t there before. So what’s new? What’s changed?”
“The moon is up,” Rose said immediately. “I noticed it when I looked through the skylight when we walked into this room. There wasn’t a moon in the sky before, and now there is.”
The Doctor spun around and bounced on his toes. “Oh, very good, Rose!” He turned and looked at Mr. Lux. “Tell me about the moon. What’s there?”
The company president shook his head. “It’s not real. It was built as part of the Library. It’s just a doctor moon.”
“What’s a doctor moon?” he pressed.
“A virus checker,” Mr. Lux explained. “It supports and maintains the main computer at the core of the planet.”
“So it’s there to make sure that CAL is safe,” the Doctor mused. Now that he knew what to look for, he could scan for a connection between the planet and the moon. Unlike his attempts to scan for Vashta Nerada, that worked almost immediately.
“Well, still active. It’s signalling. Look.” The sonic’s steady buzz pulsed slightly as it picked up the signal from the moon. “Someone somewhere in this library is alive and communicating with the moon. Or, possibly alive and drying their hair.” The Doctor put his screwdriver to his ear, listening to the signal. “No, the signal is definitely coming from the moon. I’m blocking it, but it’s trying to break through.”
He twisted the top of the screwdriver and heard a funny pop, then a very familiar voice called out, “Dad!”
The Doctor looked up up, and his throat caught when he saw a flickering projection of his daughter. “Jenny!” he called back, pushing her name past the lump in his throat. He ran towards the projection, but it disappeared just as he reached it.
He stared at the blank spot, blinking back tears. A moment later, Rose wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. She’s there, love, one of them said, though he couldn’t tell right now if the thought was his or hers. Jenny’s there, and she’s fine.
Rose pulled back and wiped tears from her eyes. “Can you get her back?” she whispered hoarsely.
“I can try,” the Doctor said, his voice thick. His hands were shaking when he raised the sonic to his ear, but they were steady enough to adjust the settings, trying to lock onto the frequency coming from the moon. Please, let me see Jenny again, he pleaded with the universe.
But it seemed like the universe wasn’t listening. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t interfere with the signal between the doctor moon and the planet.
He growled and tapped the sonic on the heel of his hand. “I’m being blocked!”
“Doctor Pond?” Anita said, a tremble in her soft voice.
“Just a moment,” Melody replied. The Doctor heard the buzzing from her screwdriver and realised she was trying to locate Jenny, too.
“It’s important,” Anita insisted. “I have two shadows.”
The Doctor’s stomach fell when he spun around and saw that the young archaeologist did indeed have two shadows.  
“Okay.” Melody took charge. “Helmets on, everyone. Anita, I’ll get yours.”
“It didn’t do Proper Dave any good,” Anita pointed out practically.  
Melody shook her head. “Just keep it together, okay?”
Anita rolled her eyes and snorted. “Keeping it together. I’m only crying. I’m about to die. It’s not an overreaction.”
No one could argue with that, so Melody was silent as she put the helmet on the scared woman and did up the seal.
“Hang on.” Using the sonic, the Doctor turned the filter on the visor all the way up, making it black.
Melody gasped. “Oh God, they’ve got inside.”
“No, he just tinted her visor, Melody,” Rose explained. “But why, Doctor?”
The Doctor shrugged. “Well, I thought maybe they’ll think they’re already in there, leave her alone.”
“Do you think they can be fooled like that?” Melody pressed.
The Doctor pressed his lips into a thin line. The constant questioning was grating on his nerves. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s a swarm. It’s not like we chat.”
“Can you still see in there?” Other Dave asked.
Anita nodded. “Just about.”
When the Doctor turned around to look at Other Dave, he noticed something they’d all missed. A seventh figure, standing in the shadows.
Other Dave and Mr. Lux both took a step forward, and the Doctor waved his hand for them to stay still. The last thing they needed was for the shadows to cross, spreading the infestation.
“Just, just, just stay back.” Then he took Rose’s hand and looked at Melody. “Rose, Melody. Could I have a word, please?”
Both women frowned, but nodded, and they took three steps away from Anita, careful to stay in the light.
The Doctor lowered his voice. “All right, both of you. Without being obvious, I need you to take a quick head count.”
He watched them casually glance around the room before they looked back at him. “Seven,” they whispered in unison.
“Right. That’s the three of us, Anita, Other Dave, Mr. Lux, and…”
Their eyes widened.
“Hey, who turned out the lights?”
“Run!” the Doctor ordered, and the six still-living people raced out of the room, chased by the form of Proper Dave.  
oOoOoOoOo
The Doctor led the group to the stairs, thinking they might be harder for the swarm in a suit to navigate. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, keeping them safe from other shadows as they climbed over two dozen flights.
Finally, they reached a floor that indicated a skybridge could be found on this level. “This way,” he said in a low voice, straining his ears for the shuffle-clomp of the Vashta Nerada, several storeys below them.
They ran through the sky bridge from one skyscraper to another. The Doctor slammed the heavy wooden doors shut behind them and hustled everyone towards the stairs, but some twinge of curiosity caught Rose’s attention, and she stopped and looked at him while Mr. Lux and Anita ran on.
His eyes were bright with anger and curiosity as he stared back at the closed doors. It only took a moment for Rose to figure out what he wanted to do.  
She looked at Melody, who’d slowed down when they’d stopped. “Keep running. We’ll be right behind you.” Melody looked hesitantly at the two of them, then nodded sharply. “Mr. Lux, Anita, Other Dave—stay with me,” she barked, then ran for the door marked ‘Stairwell.’  
From behind them, the shuffling noise of the swarm-in-a-spacesuit got louder, and Rose mentally counted off the minute or so she reckoned they could stay there safely.
“Rose…”
She cut him off with her hand held up. “No. I sent them away because every second counts. But you’re not going to stay here with that… You said the only thing to do with Vashta Nerada was to run, Doctor.”
“I know, but…” He looked at her, then back at the doors, just as they burst open. “Why did they come to the Library to hunt?”
“Hey, who turned out the lights?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?” she asked. “Would finding out how they got here and why get us any closer to the TARDIS? Would it help us find Jenny and Donna?” She held out her hand for the Doctor, and he took it. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Hey, who turned out the lights?”
The Doctor looked over his shoulder at the Vashta Nerada, just crossing the threshold of the room. Rose’s heart stopped until he looked back at her, and she could see the decision in his eyes. She let out a slow breath when he took her hand.
“Thank you.”
With the Doctor’s hand in hers, they raced down the stairs. “I’m still curious about where they came from, but you were right,” the Doctor admitted as they ran. “It wouldn’t make a difference in the end.”
Rose squeezed his hand. “I’m curious too,” she panted as they turned a corner. “But I’d rather spend our time finding Jenny and Donna and getting the hell out of here.”
The Doctor snorted. “Right you are.”
They both looked out the window as they reached the ground floor of the building. The sun had very nearly set by now, which would make it almost impossible to avoid the shadows.
“I don’t know how we’re going to make it out of this,” the Doctor admitted finally.
Rose pulled him to a stop. “Don’t,” she said sharply. “Don’t talk about giving up, not…” She took a deep breath and smiled up at him. “Have you forgotten, Doctor? We’re the stuff of legend.”
It was all bravado, and they both knew it. There was a significant likelihood that they would not make it out of this adventure alive. The possibility of regenerating teased the edges of Rose’s mind, but she could tell by the level of the Doctor’s fear that it probably wouldn’t be possible if they were consumed by Vashta Nerada.
She shook her head and rested her hands on his elbows. “We are going to rendezvous with Melody and her team, we’re going to find Jenny and Donna, and we are going to make it home,” she said firmly. “That’s the only conclusion to this day that I will accept. All right?”
The Doctor smiled, then pulled her close. “And I reckon even the Vashta Nerada don’t dare thwart your wishes,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.
Rose nodded. “Exactly. Now, are you ready to find Melody?”
He kissed her quickly, then took her hand. “Oh, I’m ready.”
oOoOoOoOo
They found Melody, Anita, Other Dave, and Mr. Lux back in the main circulation area, where he had first explained the Vashta Nerada only a few hours before. Melody was crouched on the floor, using her sonic screwdriver to scan the Library seal in the middle of the floor.
None of them heard the Doctor and Rose enter the room silently from the mezzanine level, so the Doctor took advantage of the moment to shamelessly eavesdrop.
“You know, it’s funny,” Melody said as she checked the results of her scan. “I keep wishing the Doctor and Rose were here.”
“The Doctor and Rose are here, aren’t they?” Anita said. “They are coming back, right?”
Melody sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “You know when you see a photograph of someone you know, but it’s from years before you knew them. And even though it’s them, there’s something just… missing. A familiarity that isn’t there yet.”
Rose squeezed the Doctor’s hand. Like meeting your first incarnation, she told him. It was the first time meeting you since meeting you the first time when you looked at me without knowing me.
Down below, Melody continued her explanation. “Well, yes, the Doctor and Rose are here. They came when I called, just like they always do.”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows and filed that piece of information away.
“But they aren’t the Doctor and Rose who pick me up every year for Christmas. Last year, we had dinner at the Tylers’, but they don’t know that Jackie spiked the punch with ginger ‘because it just isn’t fair that himself doesn’t get drunk like the rest of us.’” Anita laughed, and Melody nodded. “You see what I mean? They’re here… but they aren’t.”
Rose’s hand had tightened around his at the mention of her family, and the Doctor pulled her close. “Spoilers,” he warned, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. If Melody wasn’t who she said she was… if she was just playing them and she’d just given Rose false hope of seeing her mother again…
Rose reached up and stroked his jaw. Don’t get so upset before we know, she chided. You can be my protector later, if it’s necessary.
Melody’s expression was stricken, though, and for the first time, the Doctor really believed she was who she claimed to be. “How much did you hear?” she whispered.
Her guilt was obvious, and now that he’d allowed the possibility that she truly was someone from their future, he could more fully appreciate how difficult this would be for her. Meeting someone you obviously knew very well before they had even met you was a tricky tightrope to walk, and he’d clearly impressed upon the young woman the importance of maintaining the timelines.
Impulsively, he jogged down the stairs and pulled her in for a reassuring hug. “It’s fine, Melody,” he promised. “A little foreknowledge won’t damage the timelines.”
She drew a shaky breath and looked up at him. “Yeah?”
“Yep! And I’ll let Jackie get me drunk, even though I know it’s going to happen.”
Melody rolled her eyes and shoved him away from her, and he knew everything was going to be fine.
He turned and looked at the rest of the group—Mr. Lux and Other Dave, looking scared as they hovered awkwardly in the space between the shadows and Anita, who still had two shadows.
“How are you doing?” he asked her as he walked over to her.
“Still alive,” she said, a hint of defiance in her voice. “But Doctor. Proper Dave only lasted what, five minutes after they latched onto him? How come they haven’t taken me yet?”
“I don’t know.” The Doctor looked at her two shadows. “Maybe tinting your visor’s making a difference.”
Anita snorted softly. “It’s making a difference all right. No one’s ever going to see my face again.”
Her grim pragmatism made him wish he could do something for her, and despite the fact that he really couldn’t, he found himself asking, “Can I get you anything?”
“An old age would be nice,” she quipped, and her brave wit in the face of death made this hurt even more. “Anything you can do?”
The Doctor nodded, even though she couldn’t really see him. “I’m all over it,” he promised. If there was any way he could persuade the Vashta Nerada to let go of Anita, he would do it.
“Look at us,” Rose said, and he silently thanked her for changing the subject. “Six of us, still safe after running from the Vashta Nerada for two hours.”
The Doctor grinned and stuck his hands into his pockets. “Yep, still safe…” He lingered on the word. It felt significant, and he quickly filtered through his memory of all the times in the last two hours that he’d heard the word “safe” or any variations of it.
“What is it, Doctor?” Melody asked.
“Safe.” As he repeated the word, the thought finally unlocked. “You don’t say saved,” he explained, his mind still working out the ramifications of his realisation as he talked. “Nobody says saved. You say safe.” He spun to point at Mr. Lux. “The data fragment! What did it say?”
“Four thousand and twenty-two people saved. No survivors.”
“Doctor?” Rose asked.
“Oh, it’s been staring us in the face, Rose!” He grabbed her and spun her around. “Because people don’t get saved, not unless you’re talking about the preachers on street corners. But computers—computers save things. And that’s what it did. It saved them.”
oOoOoOoOo
Something about the world was wrong. Donna usually managed to shove that faint awareness into the back of her mind, but a moment ago, when she’d been talking to Doctor Moon, it had flared to life for just a few seconds.
Now, as she made tea for her guest, she felt like she’d forgotten something really important. It felt like she’d had it, just for a second, and then it had been lost again.
She sighed when the tea was done and shrugged her shoulders. I’m not going to figure it out by standing in the kitchen, she told herself as she picked up the cups and walked back to the living room.
“Here we are, Doctor Moon.”
Donna’s smile faded into a confused frown when the doctor was nowhere to be seen. Ella and Joshua ran through the room, and she held the teacups up to keep them from getting bumped into.
“Mummy, I made you!” Ella held up a thick body made of plasticine with two arms, two legs, and no face.
“Oh, that’s nice, Ella,” Donna said. She was determined to praise her daughter’s artistic endeavours, rather than belittling them like her own mother had. But… “Where’s the face?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Ella looked down at the doll and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Donna sighed and carefully bent over to put the teacups down on the coffee table. “Did you see Doctor Moon? Did he leave?”
Before Ella could answer, the door swung open and Lee stepped inside, wearing his regular suit and carrying a briefcase. The kids went crazy, calling his name and running to him, and for the briefest moment, Donna thought that the timing of his arrival was certainly convenient, the way it interrupted any answer Ella might have given her.
That cynical thought disappeared when she watched her husband set his briefcase down and open his arms to their children. “Hey! Hello, you two. Come here. Big hugs. Big Daddy hugs.”
“Look what I made.” Ella held up her doll.
“Oh.” Lee looked at it, then glanced at Donna, his eyes dancing. “It’s Mummy.”
“Uh, it hasn’t got a face,” Donna pointed out again. There was something off-putting about the idea of her face being… taken, and try as she might, she couldn’t let it go. “Did you see Doctor Moon?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.
“No. Why, was he here?” asked Lee.
“Yeah, just a second ago.” Donna walked over to the window. “You must have passed him.”
She pulled the curtains back, expecting to see the tall figure of Doctor Moon, maybe disappearing around the corner. Instead, she spotted a flash of black lace as what looked like a veiled woman in a long, black dress walking behind a tree.
“You all right?”
Lee sounded a little worried now, and despite Donna’s growing feeling that something was wrong, her reassurance was automatic.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” she said as the last of the woman’s train disappeared. “It’s just…”
“Just?” Lee murmured in her ear.
The quiet neighbourhood Donna had always loved suddenly seemed eerie. Wind blew clouds in, and the sun slanted in at the wrong angle for the time of day. Even the birds were quiet.
Donna sighed and shook her head. “Nothing.” She turned around and wrapped her arms around her husband. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.” She pulled back and smiled up at him. “I’m just tired.”
She blinked, and she and Lee were in their bedroom, dressed for bed. The feeling that the world was wrong strengthened, and she shook her head, hoping to either get rid of it, or get more insight into why it seemed so wrong.
Lee put his hand on her arm. “You okay?”
Donna felt a hint of panic welling up inside her as she tried to remember exactly what they’d done for the evening. She hadn’t had this many problems with her memory since she’d been released from the hospital, and the idea that she might have to go back terrified her.
“I said I was tired,” she began slowly, trying to remember what had happened next. “And, and… we put the kids to bed, and we watched television.” The memories came as she talked, and the knot of tension in her stomach had eased by the time she finished.
Lee smiled at her, and Donna was just about to suggest they get into bed when they heard the distinctive sound of the mail slot being pushed open.
Donna looked over her shoulder at their open bedroom door, then back at Lee. “Was that a letter?” she asked.
Lee shook his head. “It’s midnight.”
Donna pushed him gently towards the bedroom door. “Go and see what it is,” she requested urgently.
He sighed, but left the room, patting her shoulder reassuringly on his way by. After he was gone, Donna stared at the red accent wall behind their bed for a moment, wondering yet again what had led her to paint it that way. It had felt familiar and right, somehow.
She shook the thought off and wandered over to the window. If someone had dropped a letter in the slot, maybe she could catch a glimpse of them as they walked away.
The flash of lace was familiar. This definitely seemed like the dress she’d seen earlier in the afternoon, though this time, she caught a much better glimpse of it, enough to see that it was a Victorian gown, with a bustle and train.
“The world is wrong.”
Donna’s skin tingled when she heard the words she’d been thinking from Lee’s lips. She dropped the curtain and looked back at him.
“What?”
He held up a letter. “For you. Weird, though,” he added, raising his eyebrows before reading the entire note. “‘Dear Donna, the world is wrong. Meet me at your usual play park, two o’clock tomorrow.’”
Donna looked out the window again, and Lee wrapped his arms around her waist and looked over her shoulder as they watched the woman in black walk away.
“Nutter,” she muttered, earning a laugh from Lee.
Still… the world was wrong, and despite the tremor of foreboding she felt when she considered what the woman might have to say, Donna needed to know if she actually knew something, or if she just liked dropping notes in letterboxes at half twelve at night.
The rest of the night and the morning passed in an instant, and the next thing Donna knew, she was walking hand in hand with Ella and Joshua to the big park down the road. She brushed off the part of her that wondered when she’d decided what to wear, and if she’d had coffee or tea with her breakfast, and even how she and the kids had gotten to the park. Those weren’t important questions.
She spotted a woman dressed in full Victorian mourning, completely with veil, sitting on a weathered park bench. Donna took a deep breath and nodded once, then looked down at her kids.
“All right, you two, off you go,” she told them. “No fighting,” she added as they raced off to play with the other kids.
She watched for a moment, and when she was satisfied they were having fun, she turned back to the woman and slowly circled the playground equipment until she was able to sit down beside her.
“I got your note last night.” It was cold enough that Donna could see her breath when she talked. “‘The world is wrong.’ What’s that mean?”
“No, you didn’t,” the woman said.
Something about the voice sounded familiar, but Donna ignored it in favour of addressing the direct contradiction she’d just received.  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
“You didn’t get my note last night,” the woman elaborated. “You got it a few seconds ago. Having decided to come, you suddenly found yourself arriving.”
Donna sucked in a breath, thinking about all the times she’d felt like time had just magically passed, all the times she’d had to struggle to remember how she’d gotten from one place to another.
The woman’s head tilted. “That is how time progresses here, in the manner of a dream. You’ve suspected that before, haven’t you, Donna Noble?”
She added emphasis to her name, but it wasn’t necessary. Hearing someone she’d never met address her by name was enough of a shock.
“How do you know me?” Donna demanded. The world was wrong. This was all wrong.
“We met before, in the Library.” It was strange listening to someone talk when she couldn’t see their lips moving. “You were kind to me. I hope now to return that kindness.”
“Your voice. I recognise it.” Flashes of memory returned to Donna, moments Doctor Moon had told her were only dreams and hadn’t really happened. But this voice had been in those dreams, calling her the nice woman.
The woman turned slowly to look directly at her. “Yes, you do. I am what is left of Miss Evangelista.”
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archivesdiveronarpg · 7 years
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Congratulations, LOTZO! You’ve been accepted for the role of CASSIUS. Admin Taryn: I think the greatest testament to this application is the fact that Cassian was developed in ways and areas that I hadn’t even started to consider. Lotzo, yours is the first application for Cassius we’ve received, but without a doubt I don’t need any others to know you have his portrayal nailed. Your initial analysis of my darling conspirator was what gripped me and didn’t let go; you brought up corners and edges of his self and morality that I’m not sure I would have been able to come up with should I have been left alone to ponder Cassius for hours. And THAT’S why I’m so happy to hand this character over to you – he’s no longer mine, but entirely yours! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.
 WELCOME TO THE MOB.
Out of Character
Alias | Lotzo
Age   | 18+
Preferred Pronouns | They/them
Activity Level | I’m currently on my gap year, so this will probably change week to week. But I am a consistent writer - I write one response every two days as a minimum (no matter what else is going on), and may write faster at times. I am also normally available to chat with (I’ve got Discord, and Skype) because I get bored and like plotting with people. But this also means I have no definite commitments or school, but I might be on a plane. So it depends on my internet level and where I am, but a solid 5/10.
Timezone | ???? Right now, I’m at GMT +8, but next week I will be at GMT +9, and in two months I will be at GMT +11, and then in six months I might change again.
In Character
Character |
Cassius - Julius Caesar. Cassian Kun Hee - DiVerona
Cassian - Narcissistic, Vain. Latin
Kun Hee - No direct translation. Korean.
Face Claim - Lee Soohyuk
What drew you to this character? |
I’m an English Korean so asian characters immediately endear themselves to me. But the more I read Cassian’s biography, the more I fell in love and realise that I have no choice but to get dragged back into RPing (blame Ark).
Also, disclaimer : I’m planning on going into physics and philosophy at university and have spent alot of time in my local art museums and indie spaces, so I apologise for any rambling or things that don’t really make sense.
To start with, his parents are Korean. This is always an interesting dynamic, especially if they grew up in Western civilisation. What things do they keep, do they treasure, do they reject, do they find outdated? For Cassian, his obvious lack of care for his mother (the way he would willingly use her to further his own goals) was striking, and felt wrong. You never do ill of your elders in society, and especially not your parents. They are often all you have, and you respect them no matter what. What sort of thoughts were going through his head (she’ll get her name back, nothing permanent is actually happening, she’ll die anyway, I won’t be suspected, 엄마, I’m sorry, I don’t feel sorry, nothing matters) how would she react if she found out? My father is English, but I know how Korean fathers can be. They are often distant because of the work load and the desire to earn money for their children (I know one father who doesn’t get home till 1 am, but does this to earn money for the child to go to tuition, so the child feels the pressure to do the best with the opportunities provided, but it creates an interesting dynamic). They push and have expectations and this pressure to be as his father was - known - is something that shaped Cassian’s ambition.
Then the idea that his father influenced the world of philosophy. How could you change it? What ideas could you add to change the world? Modern understanding is founded in Aristotle and other ideas, but now we are branching into a new area, and what scholar wouldn’t want to expand on that? The Ancient’s ideas of categories and standards and relationships is something that we can no longer apply to us today. 90% of our universe is something we don’t even know exists, quantum has changed the way we research, time isn’t real, so how can Greeks be right anymore? I think that Lucien was working with ideas of truth and eternal nature, but to explain that would take a book.
But here’s my thought - there’s no such thing as truth in the modern age. People have struggled since the beginning to define it, and now we question whether definitions of anything can truly exist. So there’s a mix of existentialism and nihilism and if the only truth you have is the truth you choose to give yourself (but what is it to be human other than to have the freedom to shape the way you want your life to move), though Cassian has words to tell Satre about how he was wrong but maybe so close to being right, then Cassian knows that the only thing that is real is himself (I think, therefore I am). Everything will one day die, so while he lives he will pull everything out of the world for himself because one day everything will die, so who cares about morality and consequences when this is his life and he needs to make the most of it.
And those with ambition can only make it in two places - crime and politics. But aren’t they the same thing anyway? And there must always be a backup plan - so always know the game that you are playing. So Cassian went into law (this is the one area that I am not so fluent in :P) to understand and to learn and to grow and to strive because he needs to go up. He was bored all the time, even as a child no-one could keep up, nothing entertained him. So, being human, he still strove for attention - but did it in the safest way possible. He pushed the boundaries, and he found just how malleable they were. Marble could only bend so far, but people, they were easy.
Then the frustration, the palpable desire, the conflict in his head. Is he the pedestal, the power behind the throne? Or does he take credit, does he take his rightful place? Because he doesn’t want to be seen on throne, but he doesn’t want anyone else to be seen there instead. I also like how this mirrors the play - the desire to overthrow a tyrant (though for ambition, not personal freedom / Is Faron the modern Caesar? ) his manipulation of others, by whatever means to achieve his goal. (A pity we don’t have a Brutus) But the question is whether he wishes power for selfish ambition - or plain envy. He likes to be the top person in the room, the one with the power, the one others seek to gain affection and approval from.
So basically, I love the little details of Cassian’s life and how it all builds up to create the person that he is today, married, embroiled in the mob, confused as to what direction he wants to take his future. That motivation and that history is what draws me to writing him.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |
~~ Ruin and Rumination
And this man/
Is now become a god, and Cassius is/
A wretched creature and must bend his body/
Cassian had sought out Faron, had sought out the power the other man could give him. But as is all things ambitious, there can never be enough. The play uses Caesar to describe him as having a “lean and hungry” look, and this is how to best describe him.
Cassian had given himself a goal, one that he had since achieved, and now he wanted more. He had said that he wanted to be the neck, and the neck only, removed and therefore protected. But this invisibility comes with a cost - no one can see that you are there, no one appreciates the effort. And Cassian is narcissistic, he wants the adoration and reverence that other people have gifted him since he was a child, and how can you receive that when you stay in the shadows?
So now Cassian is pulling at his leash (self imposed and otherwise), straining so hard that soon something must break, though who and what is still to be seen. I want to explore what will happen with his desire for power, whether he will get it or whether it will all come crumbling down around his ears.
~~ Power requires people
They are the faction. O conspiracy/
One cannot bring down a kingdom by yourself, one cannot have ears in every corner, but it is possible to hire them, bribe them, force them, manipulate them.
To sit on a throne has no meaning unless there are people to do your will, to adore you, to flatter you.
Power requires people, so Cassian needs to build his network, men loyal to him and only him. He tells others “spies, only, to gather information for the Spades, do I not have the authority to do at least that?” But Ajax, Hector, others who seek to stay with the final winners, they pledge themselves to Cassian. But do they know that they sell themselves to the Devil and not the gods who seek to rule Verona?
I want to explore how he relates to people, how he is charming and forthright and how he builds those relationships, how he makes them sign themselves to him. How does he manipulate them, how do they react when the future is a train barreling right into him?
~~ Wedding Bells Ring
Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience./
And not my husband’s secrets?/
For so many, their greatest day is when they get married, when you have an equal, a partner, someone to trust wholly and will be loyal till the end. For Cassian, the day he got engaged was the day he felt himself signing away his freedom, a leash in the form of a metal ring on his finger.
Still, Cassian must adapt, because he can’t let the water rise over his head, needs to deal with the unpredictability of humanity - even if this means a new wife. Even if this puts new standards on his image, to the way he must adapt to involve a human being in his personal life, to how vulnerable it makes him (when you can’t hide inside your house you can’t hide at all, and one day it might all come spilling out).
I want to explore their dynamic, their relationship and the way that it could develop. Do the seek to get rid of each other? Tolerate the other? Merely using each other until they can be thrown away? Or are they protective of each other (no, it’s just my name), or realising just how human each other are?
~~ Great Art Depicts Emotion
He is a great observer and he looks/
Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays/
As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music/
Adulthood is a progression of childhood, so marble begets marble. While his parents showed emotion, were dutiful in their duties, there’s only so much you can do for someone so totally surrounded by wealth and finery and never being allowed to be wrong.
But who cares about emotion when everything is destined to fade into dust and then into nothingness, the chaos and entropy of a closed system set only to increase. Who has time for the way that other people think or react? Emotions and passion are things that Cassian doesn’t understand, doesn’t normally experience. (Frustration, anger, care, adoration, but rarely happiness, rarely sadness, never love)
Art is art because it is a way to convey a meaning or emotion to others. This was where he learn what the extremes of emotion were, so while he doesn’t love art, doesn’t love displays of passion, he finds himself constantly drawn to the theatre and the museum and the church, trying to understand this riddle that he can barely see.
I want to explore how Cassian related to others, how he displays emotion, how this varies from person to person, how much of it is actually an act. I want someone to try and break those walls down and realise that it a futile job - because there is nothing behind those walls. I want someone to merely exist in his life, and suddenly there is weakness, and how does Cassian react?
In Depth
Broad red strikes crisscross over the hint of a blue background, white scratches scored deep with a palette knife. Acrylic and oil, sliding over each other, refusing to react, red leaving gaping wounds on the canvas. Gold leaf brushed over the top, highlighting texture. A small plaque reads “F®iend”.
It looks like the taste of the champagne he is drinking, one hand curled around the stem, the other buried in a trouser pocket, head tilted as he examines the work. Fury and hatred trying to mar a bright history, but unable to, richness in the dark and regret buried in the heart.
He can’t feel it.
Something almost present on the back of his tongue, an ache in his molars and a heaviness on his chest. But there is still something missing, so Cassian continues to stand there, one hand buried in his pocket, one curled around the stem of a glass. But the taste is bitter, dirt lingering on his tongue, and he tries to find something more in the paint.
Behind him, the sound of footsteps come close, then stop, muted in the occupied room. A voice enquires from behind him, “Do you mind if I ask you some questions Mr Kun Hee?” Nervous, tight, some anxiety at approaching, but still a deep voice. Cassian doesn’t bother to turn around, relaxed eyes still breathing in the vivid motion on canvas. He shrugs, then takes another sip of the champagne. (Yet still the bitterness lingers on his tongue)
The person coughs, then asks, “What is your favourite place in Verona?”
His fingers tap idly on the glass, the moment stretching out between them. He can hear the shifting of a jacket as the person moves, and Cassian breathes in, out, in, then replies, “I daresay I haven’t been here long enough to give that question the full answer it deserves. You architecture is much more grand than America, your religion a lot more steeped in history, your shops in vice. A day at a time though, I think.”
There was much in Verona to inspire, to claim and conquer, but they were all just buildings. They each brought out different aspects, required a different style of thought to appreciate. The bridge allowed freedom of thought, the museum enhanced appreciation, the library for knowledge.
Still, he tended to revisit the galleries most often, like a mystery he couldn’t walk away from. He stood in front of the painting, in front of the sculptures, trying to make sense of the emotion portrayed, tried to imagine his own throat bared back in a parody of marble. He hated not knowing, walking around with something hollow, some piece of the puzzle, some thread that connects creation and leaves him stranded in the dirt. He hates it.
But still he returns.
The person hums, and then the sound of scratching of pencil on paper, like a buzz behind his ears. “You didn’t really answer the question, Mr Kun Hee.”
The next painting was as tall as person, a steady gradient of gold to burgundy, brush strokes nearly invisible, the faint impression of silver clouds broiling on the horizon at eye level. “Ruin”. Cassian steps towards it, eyes closing for a moment, the hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he hears the person fumble, quick steps as they move to stand behind him again.
“But that’s alright, I’ll just move onto the next question, shall I? What does your typical day look like?”
His glass motions towards the painting in front of him, “I wake, I exercise, I go to work, I appreciate.” This painting was darker, no pastels or brighter colours, no white to highlight motion. It seemed to suggest the steady decay of everything, the dark red on top threatening to swallow the clouds and gold below.
“I-, what does your work normally look like?”
Cassian scoffs, the only movement a brief eye roll. “Do you want a detailed description on attorneys operate and the information on my clients, or will you take what I have given you?” The constant sound of movement from behind him threatened to tear him away from the paintings, the heels of leather shoes scuffing the floor, the movement of a jacket against a shirt. And now, a cough, and the shuffling of paper.
In truth, his work involved legally representing people, but also ensuring that the law was always on the side of the Spades, and doing whatever Faron needed next. There was also the gathering of his own intelligence and background work that needed to be done to ensure loyalty, though that tended to take up far less time and far more of his mind compared to his day job.
The detail of the painting was highly technical, the stroked all leading to a nebulous center, the clouds barely emerging from the background once you looked closer, though so clear from further away. Latex mixed with paint, softening the edges so the paints could move together, gel added to the background, dimming the colours.
“That will be fine, thank you. Final question, what are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?”
Cassian stilled, chin tilting upwards, an eyebrow barely raising. This was popular gossip in Verona, especially with recent developments, so not unusual. But unexpected. The sound of the person grew quieter as Cassian didn’t answer, before his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Is it a war? I thought it was only a blood feud, though it has yet to cross into my court. However, I have heard rumours of a new group, the Diamonds? But perhaps this means that there is no war anymore, which can only be a good thing.”
And this was true, to an extent. It was a silly little battle between two groups that had once had the potential to be so much more, but were reduced to petty bickering and local conflict. It was good that it was over, good that power had come to the Spades. (To them, not to him, and for a moment all Cassian could feel was an itch under his skin, his breath catching in his lungs as the red on the painting seemed to overtake the canvas.
“But why do you ask?” Cassian said, the hint of curiosity turning him away from the painting to face the questionnaire. But there was no-one within twenty feet, and he would have heard the sound of footsteps moving away.
In-Character Para Sample:
The rasp of cash sliding against a palm is smothered, the heat on the night damping all noise around them. Notes slipping between people, instructions to be given from person to person to person. He was never involved.
The wind whips away his breath, and his stomach feels cold even as the humidity chokes everyone else. Cassian can’t tell if he’s falling or flying anymore, whether he’ll hit the ground or rise above heaven.
But one things is true - he is no longer bored.
The table is opulent, yellow and pink flowers in a vase on the table, several members on the local government invited to a dinner. His mother sits at his right, adorned in a delicate white dress, his father on her right. Inane conversation, gentle laughter, “who takes care of checking financial records?”
The sound of the TV was a constant drone in the background, something to fill the dead air as they worked, a blank faced news reporter with a monotone voice.
The sound of his mother’s pen stopped, and Cassian looked over to see her staring intently at the TV, so his head titled that way as well.
“There have been more recent developments with the call for impeachment for the South Korean President, Park Geun-hye. It has recently been revealed that her friend, Choi Soon-sil, was the daughter of a cult founder, and that her father was also a close mentor to the current President. Additionally, the corruption charges against her continue to mount, and a lot of Koreans are now more conscious about their government’s fiscal responsibilities, and many major companies are being looked into.”
Seollal was a major festival, Koreans’ inviting family over to celebrate a time of new things. Normally, they would go to South Korea and visit the extended family, but this year they were staying at home. New allegations were continuously being brought against them, and a case file was being built.
It was the beginning of a new year, Seollal, and the three of them were gathered around a table. Normally, they would go and visit South Korea and the rest of the family, but this year there were mounting pressures as new allegations were brought against Hana, the threat of a court case keeping them nearby.
Silence echoed throughout the small dining room, the faint clink of cutlery against plates the only conversation in the room.
Clink.
Clink.
Mechanically chewing the food, turkey and rice and kimchi and ddukgukk and carrots. Only five side dishes, but three courses, and silent looks shared between his parents.
Clink.
Cli- “Cassian, I want to ask a favour.”
The three put down their cutlery, the farce of a meal paused for a moment, and his gaze flickers between them.
“Anything, 엄마, what do you need?”
His father this time, leaning forwards with his elbows on the table, tidy beard darkened as his face tugs into a frown. “You know that there are rumours going around about Hana, and, with the current political climate it may begin to escalate even further. There isn’t any truth in the matter, but.”
His mother interrupts, placing a hand on Lucien’s shoulder, troubled eyes turning to pin him into his chair. (Did he make a horrible mistake?) “But if it does go any further, we want you to be my legal counsel. I trust you with this.”
Emotions, that’s what is expected with family. Trust and vulnerability and sharing emotion.
Cassian coughs. “I, I’m sure that won’t be necessary Mother, but, if it means that much to you, then of course.” Her face brightened, and Cassian has to struggle to keep the guilt pushed down (why does he feel so much guilt? He shouldn’t, it doesn’t mean anything, he’ll get her out of it, it might even help) and he chokes a little. He turns his face away and takes a sip of water, ignoring the way the slope of her shoulders rounds out, the way the wrinkles around the corners of his father’s eyes soften.
Something burns in his chest. It burns, hot and fiery, before it goes cold.
Cassian continues to eat his meal
She wants to hug him. He can tell, that after every court session and every time they see each other there. She reaches forward, about to pull him down, about to kiss him on the cheek or say something, before she notices were she is. He feels no regret in pulling away every time, at leaving her calls. He’s her lawyer after all, it just wouldn’t be professional.
The court case is over, and Hana immediately throws her arms over him, pulling him in for a close hug. Cassian stiffens, every instinct urging him to run away, before he rests his head on her shoulder. “I knew you could do it,” she whispers into his ear, pulling him tighter for a second, before letting go.
He hasn’t been hugged like that since he went to university. He can’t tell if he misses it.
Her face is shining again, relief banishing the worry, though there is now much more grey in her hair, now wrinkles on her forehead. But the smile on her face is the biggest for a while. Can he fool himself, can he say that it was okay because she would be happy again at the end?
No.
His face tightens and Cassian grimaces, before turning away and packing up his papers. There will be people who want to congratulate him.
Extras
MBTI : ISTJ
Date of Birth : Sunday 27th March 1988
Favourite Drink : Mint Julep
Mock Blog : cassianmock.tumblr.com
Contains
Aesthetic x2
Playlist
Headcanons x2
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