#i felt VILE putting the doctor in the missing person part but like.......... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hi!

Happy New Year! 😃 There’s so many to choose from but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one I wanted to pick.

Prompt #35 from Prompt List #2 - Frankie Morales

Thank you!

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.”

Ohhh, this is inch resting! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Reader ; warnings: pregnancy (and any and all things related to it), mentions of sex, drinking, smooches.

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No,” you sighed in frustration as you looked at the small white stick in your hands. It was a simple pregnancy test, but right now it felt like a ticking time bomb. You read over the singular word in frustration before tossing it onto the floor and watching as it skidded to a stop next to the bathtub.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

It couldn’t be right though, surely it had to be a false positive. But then...what about all the rest of the tests you had taken? All nine others were lined up on the counter, a testament to how determined you were to find out that you weren’t pregnant. But...could ten tests really be lying? What were the odds that all of them were false positives?

“Shit,” in a burst of anger you tossed them all off the counter and onto the floor, tears already running down your cheeks as you sank to the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? You were so careful every other time; you were on birth control and always made sure to have your partners use a condom. And yet...here you were. Pregnant and alone, crying on your bathroom floor.

You pulled your knees up to your chest as you decided to get all your tears out then and there before making a plan. One way or another, something was going to need to happen - and as soon as possible hopefully.

But then, as you sat there, crying and ignoring the incessant notifications on your going off on your phone, it hit you.

Frankie. Francisco Morales. He’d been the last person you had sex with.

Holy shit. No - there was no way. You couldn't be pregnant by your best friend that you'd secretly loved for years and had a drunken one night stand with. Absolutely not. Nope...that would be...the worst thing in the eternity of the universe. Some sort of vile joke that the universe would be playing on both of you. It couldn’t be him...no, no, no.

But...he was the last person you'd had sex with. And before then...it had been months since anyone else. Unless there was some sort of divine intervention on behalf of your uterus and you were some sort of abstinent Mary, Frankie Morales was the father of your baby.

The baby - not your baby. Rather, the small peanut inside of you. Referring to it as anything else was too...real. It was just a baby - a maybe baby. One you weren’t even sure you’d keep, wanted, or would tell Frankie about. But...shit. You couldn’t not. It would come out somehow, if not now, then later, in a moment of indiscretion, or another drunken evening. You had to tell him...even if it was just to let him know what happened before you made some sort of decision.

But what the hell were you supposed to tell him? Oh by the way, remember when we had sex two months ago? Yeah, well, I’m pregnant.

You must have forgotten to take your birth control, and neither of you must have had enough sense to remember a condom. Or one of the two failed...or both. Either way it was a perfect storm that resulted in the worst possibility.

The worst part of all?

Despite the upset and sheer terror you felt, there was a small part of you that wasn’t...entirely devastated. You’d never given much thought to children, having been perpetually single for the better part of the last decade, and hopelessly in love with your best friend. If there was a man that you wouldn't have minded children with, it would have been Frankie. He was a good man, always trying to be better, trying his best, and despite all the shit he’d been through in life, he still managed to have a soft, loving heart. He would have made a good father, that much you knew.

But shit. He was only your best friend, and unlike you, he wasn’t deep in love. Would he even want a baby? A child he’d have what - half custody of while you had the other? It would never work, it wasn’t meant to be...it just...no. There was no way in hell this was going to work out.

With that thought in your mind, you rested your head on your knees, crying and shaking as you tried to wrap your head around it all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” you felt a soft touch on your arm as you heard your name being gently called, “hey, Bee...wake up.”

You opened your eyes, blinking away the dried tears and bleariness as you took in the face looking back down at you with a gentle smile. Momentarily forgetting your predicament, you offered him a smile of your own as he held out his hand to help you up to your feet.

“Frankie,” you gave him a curious look, “what are you doing here? It’s not movie night or anything.”

“I’ve been calling and texting,” he nodded in the direction of your discarded phone, which was blinking at you with notifications, “you didn’t answer and I got worried. It’s not like you. I wanted to see if you were up for getting a drink tonight? The brewery’s got a new ale out.”

“I...umm,” you quickly remember your situation as a sense of panic set into your bones. The tests and discarded boxes were still all over the floor, one right next to your phone. He had to have seen them. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Frankie.”

“Yeah,” he said as he gave everything the once over. Another worry suddenly crossed your mind; you’d been drinking the last two months. Granted it hadn’t been anything crazy, just a beer here and there and a glass of wine on occasion, but still. Shit. He cleared his throat awkwardly as you scurried around to pick everything up. Ever the gentleman, he stepped into help, pausing slightly when he noticed all the positive tests, “you...ugh...you’re pregnant?”

“I-I guess,” you offered him the most neutral look you could muster up, “I just ugh...found out. It’s a bit of a surprise to me too.”

“Oh...you don’t…” he swallowed thickly as he nodded, more to himself than anything else as wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, “do you…”

“I don’t know a lot,” you cut him off before he could continue his line of questioning, “i didn’t really know I was...pregnant until I missed my period this month. I-I-I thought last month was a fluke but two months in a row is disconcerting. So I panicked and got some tests.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as you realized what you said. You might as well have told him then and there, “I thought you were…”

“I am,” you tried to cover up your own tracks, “I’m on birth control, so I’m also a little...surprised. I’m trying to keep calm, but in all honesty I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, Bee,” he promised softly as he gently put his hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek. It was hard not to melt into his touch and confess everything then and there, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever support you want, I’m here, every step of the way.”

“Frankie...I-I don’t know what to say…” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to break down in a fit of tears again. It would be better to get it out in the open now and to just say it and let him know and -

“Either I get to be the best fun uncle, or...I’ll be here for you either way,” he insisted with a smile small before pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. You were stunned into silence, but decided to let things happen, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest.

You wouldn’t tell him now. But soon. You needed to. For your sake as well as his own.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an odd feeling, walking out of the doctor’s office, clutching a stack of papers with more information than you knew what to do with, including a set of grainy black and white images. You’d cried - as you’d often been doing lately - but somehow you weren’t upset. It had been about two weeks since your surprise discovery, and with each passing day, it became more real.

You were still confused, more than you had ever been, but somehow you’d grown attached to the idea of the little bean that was inside of you. It was scary, more than anything else in life ever had been, but you...just...it was a lot.

No you just needed to tell Frankie.

It seemed like every time you’d tried, something or someone came up and interrupted, pulling his attention away or making it a most inopportune moment. But...shit. You couldn’t let this go much longer.

You’d tell him. Tonight. There was no doubt in your mind it was time to do it and then the pieces could fall wherever they landed and you’d figure it out. Keeping it from him just wouldn’t be fair, and you couldn’t imagine a world where you had this baby and Frankie only thought of himself of an uncle.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you walked into your apartment, ready to sit down and relax - and get yourself hyped to tell Frankie - before he came over for your weekly movie night.

But when you got in, your heart plummeted when you saw Frankie already in the kitchen, messing around with some snacks. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another two hours.

“Bee,” he grinned at you when spotted you, excitedly pointing at the various treats he was setting out, “you’re just in time!”

“And you’re early,” you tried to make light of it as you walked in and set everything down on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“I know,” he grinned with a wink, “but I knew you’d be home soon, and wanted to do this for you. You’re dealing with a lot, and I just want to help however I can. How did it go? Did you get more information...what am I saying? Of course you did...how was it?”

“It was a lot,” you admitted, just like everything right now, “the doctor was really helpful and gave me so much information. But..ugh...the ba - it’s fine right now.”

“The baby?” he asked as you nodded, setting down the stack of papers, letting the sonogram images land on top, “you can call it a baby, Bee!”

“I know,” you huffed lightly with laughter at yourself, “it just...makes it feel so real. Calling it a baby. I dunno.”

“Bee’s having a baby...Baby Bee,” he said excitedly as he looked over your stack of papers, his soft brown eyes landing on the pictures, “maybe...a maybe Baby Bee…”

Before you could stop him, he reached for the sheet of images, bringing it up to his face as he furrowed his brows to study them closely. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he looked at them, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. You were so in love with this man, it was almost painful sometimes. And you here you were, having his baby and he didn’t know, he wasn’t yours...that bad it all that much harder. Before you knew it, tears were running down your cheeks, and a sniffle escaped your lips.

“Umm, F-Frankie…: you whispered softly as he looked at you with a concerned expression, “about the baby...i-i-it’s...it’s yours.”

He stiffened for a moment, a million different expressions crossing his features as he looked between you and the sonograms and back at you. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, all he could manage was a small, “what?”

“I-I know I should have told you sooner, right when I found out and you came in,” you were crying now, a blubbering mess, “I just couldn’t do it...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this...you’re the only one I’ve been with in almost a year and I-I-I know it was a one night drunken thing, and I thought we were careful but this...just happened. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s mine?” he asked softly as you nodded, watching as his eyes flicked to your still non-existent bump, “we’re having a baby? Together?”

“I-I know this isn’t what anything we expected,” you wiped at your eyes, “I-I don’t expect you to help or have anything to do with it, but I...I want to keep it…”

Frankie inhaled and exhaled deeply, setting the images back down before turning his attention to you. His gaze was on your face, eyes soft as ever before he closed the small distance between your bodies. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands found your face, touching it tenderly for a few moments, almost as if he was asking you for permission, which you readily granted, before crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply.

And it felt so...perfect. So natural as his arms wrapped around your waist and you put yours around his neck and held him close. He didn’t let you go, reluctant to part his lips from yours for even a moment, only doing so when you were left dizzy and breathless.

“I love you, Bee,” he whispered softly, chasing your lips with his own, “always you, for so long. It wasn’t supposed to be a one night stand, I just got so foolish and scared…”

“I love you, Francisco,” you promised, “you’ve been it for me for so long. I never thought…I never thought you would love me back. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.”

“You’ve been loved by me for so long,” he promised, “you never had to wonder. I should have told you sooner.”

“Now is good,” you grinned at him, your head spinning with everything that was going on, “now is perfect.”

“Bee,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, stopping at your lips, “and Baby Bee. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I am so in love with you.”

“I love you more than anything,” you ran a hand through his dark locks, a few tears already spilling down your cheeks again. He beamed at you, gently wiping them away, “but, Frankie...you’re okay...with the baby? Keeping the baby?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, his own eyes glistening with tears as he nodded, “yes. I want this...I’ve always wanted this. I want everything with you - you and only you.”

“Francisco…” you smiled, and just like that, you lit up his entire world, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he breathed you in, “my Bee and Baby Bee. What more could I ever ask for?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #forever-rogue's follower celebration

751 notes · View notes

kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 11

Silent scream

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n gets shut up

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Fuck you." I snapped, mustering all the saliva I could before spitting it at his face. He flinched back when it splattered over his cheek, his fingers swiping through the spittle before he was shaking it from them and standing back to his full height.

"It appears this one is never going to cooperate. If she won't give us information, why let our experimentations on her possibly...benefit the girl the the future?" The general spoke menacingly to the guards behind me. "How about way find a way to shut her up?"

My heat thudded so hard in my chest it was like someone was punching me from the inside, all air knocked from my lungs before I was being hoisted up to my feet again with two rough grips on my upper arms. My chest heaving, I coughed a ragged breath before composing myself. The glint of the silver blade in the corner of my vision sent my eyes bugging out of my skull and my mind into a flat panic.

So, I did what any rational person with my capabilities would do. I began to hum the deep melody - one a seldom sung - and a smirk crawled its way onto my now curved lips. Clearly, the general was prepared, but the two guards behind we weren't so lucky.

A desperate cry pierced my tune, harmonising with my voice as I heard the havoc I was causing. This was the first time I'd enjoyed a kill, the very first time I'd wanted to use my powers for such a horrific reason. I'd only ever used this part of my power a few times, but this was the only time I'd been fully lucid whilst doing so.

Some people want nothing more than to blow their enemies' brains out, and trust me when I tell you; It felt good.

However, luck was never on my side, and the General had come full prepared. He wasn't even affected, it must've been something to do with the funny earpiece he was wearing.

As my eyes met his, the General's face held non of the cocky, smug tones that I'd expect. No, the only word I could use to describe his old and crinkled features was pure ire, and it was directed at me.

"You conniving, vile little bitch!" He snarled, the flash of silver weeding a sense of utter and complete dread, tangled with fear inside of me, uprooting my confidence. I don't remember a lot after that, to tell you the truth. I know the blade sliced along my throat. I know everything was rained black. And that's about it.

...

Awakening with a gasp was the last thing I expected to happen. The sight of the blade risen in front of the general burned into my mind, almost as if it'd been scorned against my flesh. But here I was: awake, gasping for breath, completely surrounded by doctors I'd never seen before.

My hand instantly flew to my neck, a stinging sensation pulsing from the delicate skin. I hissed as my sweaty palm made contact with the bandage, the material corse and scratchy against my skin. As a doctor waddled over to me, needle in hand, I flailed desperately, a silent scream ripping from my throat.

Hang on a second-

Silent scream? I tried again, the shrill noise that should be tearing from me simply vanishing as it hit my throat. My eyes widened with the realisation, my bottom lip wobbling as I suddenly pieces together what had happened.

He said he'd have to shut me up, didn't he? The thought made me want to scream loudly, that the blade had touched my skin and left me with no defence.

They took away the hell they'd reigned upon me, something I'd wished I could be rid of for years, and now I was disappointed. Maybe this was their plan all along, that little voice in my head sang. The tears pricked at my eyes, which rolled back lazily as the scratch of the needle poked at my neck.

...

My calloused fingers ran over the cut tirelessly, trying to itch somewhere that I could never seem to find. I don't know how long I was sedated for, but since waking up the bleeding had stopped and there was now an offensive red line that slid horizontally across my neck.

Every time I touched it, it coaxed a wince from me, and yet that's all I seemed to do. It was like poking a bruise, I guess. The more it hurts the more you want to do it.

They'd returned me to my cell, clearly very little need for restraints against my weakened, starved and dehydrated body. I could see the flesh thinning on my arms, my ribs pressing painfully against my skin. Not only could I see the hunger, but I could feel it.

Manifesting, biting, gnawing hunger. The type that are you from inside out, devouring everything of you until the only thing you could think about was eating. Huh, I guess I was already at that stage then.

My eyes remained locked in place, glossy with the endless tears as I stared at the floor. If I really looked hard enough, the still wet blood smeared over the floors of the hallway resembled something close to strawberry jam. The thoughts of the sickly sweat substance spread over a perfectly toasted piece of bread, accompanied with a big glass of fresh orange juice and washed down by a large coffee made my mouth water. The booming rumble in my stomach made the groan, even more drawn out than expected when I remembered all I'd get to eat today: a small bread roll and a tiny glass of water.

Sadly, the sink in my cell did not contain drinking water. The liquid was so discoloured that I purposely avoided washing me hands, preferring to possible have my own germs coating my hands than whatever they were giving me. I'm not kicking you about, I genuinely think the water was filtered through a clump of fucking horse shit, mixed with fish guts and complimented with a hint of rotting fruit. If I could help it, I'd be dodging that water like the plague (if it didn't contain one already) for the rest of my life.

I'm not really sure why, but my head snapped up in surprise why the door sprang open, a single guard entering.

"The general requires your presence." He deadpanned, eyes cold as eyes and sharp as a knife as they stabbed through me. I wanted to fight back, stay glued to the spot and snap back some snarky remark, but in my current condition I almost couldn't bring myself to care where I was about to be taken, or why for that matter.

I stood without a word, silently following the man until we reached an unfamiliar metal door. I found it almost laughable, really, that they'd reduced my strength so much, that no one even considered putting me any sort of restraints anymore.

The door was pushed open with a child-like whine emitting from its rusty hinges, the metal scraping over the concrete floor painfully. The guard simply grabbed my arm before tugging me into the room, letting the door shut behind his with a hollow thunk.

"Ah, she has arrived!" The general's voice exclaimed, a deviant smile spreading over his thin lips. "And just in time to meet Mr Pierce, too." He said menacingly.

I felt embarrassed, exposed, stood before the room of men. My hair was a mess, tears streaking my reddened face, eyes puffy from crying and the only clothes a wore was a now-battered hospital gown. My eyes darted around nervously, trying to avoid the blonde man sat before me, chin resting in his palm as he surveyed me.

"Why is this one...important?" The man asked, eyeing me up and down before his eyes seemed to fixate on my neck. The scar.

"This," the general spoke, but Mr Pierce kept his eyes on me, "is Miss y/n Stark." Mr Pierce's eyes widened ever so slightly, but it was barely noticeable.

"As in Tony Stark?" Pierce pondered.

"The very same." The general smirked.

"She seems awfully...quiet, for a Stark." Pierce said with almost a hint of disgust, eyes still glued to my shaking frame.

"That's because we shut her up." The general snapped, awfully harshly.

"Is that the scar? How fresh is it?" Pierce jabbed his questions, curiosity clearly becoming him in the moment.

"Indeed. Our doctors here are very good, Sir. They had her all patched up and out of bandages in just three days." The general bragged, shoulders back and head held high as if he was posing for a portrait.

"I see." Pierce mused, brows furrowed in thought. "What do you plan to do with her? Now that she can't tell you anything?"

"Oh, trust me, sir. She wasn't giving anything up either way," he paused, striding over to me and yanking my head back with a fistful of hair, my back mow pressed to his chest and his mouth at my ear, "isn't that right, sweetheart?"he clarified, and I didn't hesitate to nod my head as much as his grip would allow.

"So why isn't she dead?" Pierce gritted, seemingly annoyed. "It's not like Tony's attached to her, he never looked for her and I've never even heard him mention her."

"But then they'll keep coming. I don't want the avengers on my back, and I'm sure you don't either." Pierce hummed in agreement. "She's with them - her and that Captain America guy arrived together - so why not use her to send a message?" The general suggested.

...

That's how I found myself tied up, wrists bound and gun to my head as I sat shakily in a chair in the middle of the quinjet. I had no clue how long I'd been since that day, but I do know that I had been sedated once again. The flimsy hospital gown allowed a shiver to chill me, skin forming goosebumps as I sat before the open door or the quinjet.

"You will tell them exactly as I just did. Got it?" The general pressed, pushing the gun into my head hard enough to make by head throb. Tears biting at my eyes, I nodded furiously, now determined to live with the promise of being free again. "Good. Soldat, make sure she gets back to New York without being seen, I'd hate to have to spill more blood than we intended." The general demanded, a figure rustling its way out of the shadows at the edge of the room. A gasp tore from my throat at the sight of him - clad in black leather and arm as silver as the moon. The soldier - my soldier.

But he simple stared through me, eyes blank and clouded in a coldness I'd never had directed at me from him before.

"And make sure you don't fail this time, soldat." The general snapped. The soldier nodded solemnly, the echoing of boots thudding filling both their ears as the general walked off the ship.

213 notes · View notes

dreamlover31 · 4 years

Text

Broken Promises

Hello my dearies, thank you for all of your comments and support throughout this comeback of mine lol

And now here's the third and final installment of my mini drama...my apologies since this took me a while to post this

Tagging: @madpanda75 @dreila03 @laceybellerain @melsquared79 @southern-magnolia @glimmerglittergirl @xemopeachx @misssirenlove @tropes-and-tales @thatesqcrush @sweetsummertime99 @imjustreallynosy @amirightcounselor @rampantmuses @youreverycolor

Two pink lines...what should have been caused for great joy, instead has brought upon nothing but anguish and despair. After the incident at the apartment, you had packed up your belongings and moved into your sister’s place in Soho; leaving behind the man who had all but decimated your heart. Though the time was brief, being held hostage by your fiance’s mistress was a real wake up call, the wool that had been pulled over your eyes that day; and it revealed a very ugly truth, that Rafael Barba was nothing more than a vile creature who had taken your love for granted and threw it back in your face, however, when you revealed the pregnancy it was merely a ploy to get Sophie to drop her guard so that he could take the opportunity to take her out of the equation.

A few days after the incident, you had started feeling nauseous and had some weird cravings for pickles and garlic knots, and that was when the gears turned in your head; so one day when your sister was at work, you trekked down to the bodega down the street from her apartment where you had purchased 3 different types of pregnancy tests. Upon your return, you anxiously awaited the results as you sat on the edge of the tub, after a few minutes, you peered down at the stick and your heart dropped.

Later that day, your sister Rebecca returned home from work where she found you on the couch curled up in a blanket; eyes shrink wrapped in tears. She set her things on the coffee table and wrapped an arm around you, she rubbed your shoulder soothingly until your tears had subsided and that was when you revealed the reason for your distress.

Meanwhile, Rafael painstakingly went about his life, despite protests from Liv and the others, in his mind it made sense to keep himself busy, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality that he had lost the love of his life...and her confession of becoming an expectant mother. After the Sophie fiasco, Rafael was desperately trying to contact Charlotte, he had lost track of the many phone calls and text messages he sent her; although he couldn’t blame her...he had violated her trust in an unforgivable manner and as much as he wanted to just make everything that happened disappear, there was no way that he could reclaim the life he once had.

Rafael was sitting in his office reviewing one of his case files when his phone beeped, his emerald irises widened when he saw the message… it was the last person he expected to hear from...Charlotte.

We need to talk...meet me at the coffee shop down the street from my OB’s office

Alright...I’m on my way

Charlotte scheduled an appointment with her doctor once she had time to collect her thoughts, as she was sitting on top of the examination table, her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with Rebecca the night before...as hard as it would be, if it turned out that she was indeed pregnant, she would have to notify Rafael. At that moment, her doctor entered the room with the test results in hand, with a soft smile, she confirmed what Charlotte already knew and now it was time to have an unpleasant conversation with the man who betrayed her; as she exited the building, Charlotte texted Rafael and began making her way to the coffee shop. The front door chimed as Rafael stepped inside the establishment, his eyes scanned the enclosure for Charlotte until he saw her in the back corner, slowly, he padded towards the table where she had a coffee already waiting for him. They barely looked at one another as the world around them continued to function in its normal capacity, the tension surrounding them was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Charlotte lightly tapped her fingers on the container housing her chamomile tea as she thought of the best way to approach the subject...finally, it was Rafael who ultimately broke the awkward silence.

“I would ask how you are doing but…”

“Then don’t” Charlotte snapped all the while maintaining her composure without breaking down into tears again, she breathed through her nose and exhaled a deep breath then blurted out:

“It’s official...I’m pregnant and your the father”

Rafael blinked as he took a moment to process the huge bombshell that was just dropped on him, although he had his suspicions, receiving actual confirmation made everything all the more real. While his first instincts were to reach out and hold Charlotte’s hand and comfort her, he knew that she would rebuff his advances, with a heavy sigh, he continued:

“Charlotte...I know there’s nothing I can say or do to make up for everything that has happened, but I just want you to know that whatever you decide...I will respect your wishes”

Charlotte replied, "Well look at you...the great Rafael Barba playing the martyr"

The venom in her voice caused Rafael to inwardly cringe while on the outside his face took on a wounded appearance.

Charlotte sighed, "I'm sorry Rafael...that was unfair of me"

"It was well deserved believe me"

She looked out the window for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts while Rafael looked on, carefully gauging her mood. Finally, she spoke:

“Look...I don’t know where we go from here...all I know is that I do want you to be a part of our child’s life and we’ll figure it out as we go along with regards to visitation and support”

Her words were like a dagger to Rafael’s heart, granted that she was willing to let him see their child, a part of him hoped that she would consider the possibility of raising their little bundle of joy together; and yet the more realistic side of him understood that once a trust has been breached, it could take a long time to rebuild or worst case scenario, one can never regain that trust. He frowned but nodded his head in agreement, upon exiting the coffee shop, they both decided that Charlotte would update Rafael on the baby’s development and went their separate ways.

6 months later…

Charlotte stares idly at the monitor as the doctor ran the ultrasound wand along her abdomen, waiting to catch a glimpse of the tiny life growing inside her, today was the day that she would find out the gender of her baby. The doctor adjusted the image on the screen to where a little grey jelly bean came into view, as she pointed out how the baby was developing on schedule, Charlotte became overwhelmed with emotion; tears began to prick in her eyes as she sniffled.

“Charlotte..are you ready to know what you are having”

“Yes, please”

The doctor clicked a few more buttons and a more clearer picture came into focus

“Congratulations Charlotte...you’re having a healthy baby girl”

The floodgates opened as tears streamed down her face, the amount of joy and love that she felt for the tiny human being inside her was astounding; at that point the doctor excused herself so she could print out the ultrasound pictures. During this moment of solitude, Charlotte’s happiness was quickly foreshadowed by the fact that this beautiful child was created out of the love that she once shared with Rafael, the man that she was set to wed before it was revealed that he had been unfaithful to her but as much as she wanted to hate him for the rest of her life...there was a part of her that still loved him and missed him very much. She quickly wiped her eyes as the doctor re-entered the room, she was handed the ultrasound pictures before gathering her belongings and leaving the examination room. She was then escorted down the hall to the reception desk, as she was finishing up with the receptionist, a familiar figure was sitting patiently in the waiting room. Upon entering, Charlotte was greeted with a smiling tall, sandy haired gentleman.

“You ready to go Charlotte”

“Ready when you are Sonny”

Sonny smiled as the two of them made their way out of the building, he helped her into his car that was parked along the sidewalk and as soon as he was in the driver’s seat; he started the ignition and drove off. A few months prior, Sonny had ran into you while grocery shopping at the local market, the two of you exchanged pleasantries and even agreed to meet up for lunch later on that week and ever since then, Sonny was like a Godsend. Whenever you were feeling overwhelmed or you just needed someone to talk to, he would always be there. He even invited you over to his place a couple of times where he would share with you the many culinary delights from mama Carisi and cuddle up on the couch and binge watched on various movies involving tragic romances. Sonny meandered down the streets of downtown Manhattan while Charlotte looked out the passenger window watching the buildings pass by, her mind a jumbled mess with everything that has happened, she finds herself in one hell of a moral dilemma. It was almost as if Sonny could read her mind because when they came to traffic light, he looked over to her and asked:

“Is everything ok?”

With a heavy sigh, Charlotte replied, “I don’t know Sonny...how can you miss someone who dismantled everything you once knew to be true...who you gave your heart and soul to, only to have it torn apart…”

He frowned as he put the car in gear and continued driving towards her apartment, “I know what Barba did was inexcusable…but I’ve seen him in the office and he puts up a good front but deep down I know he misses you terribly and would give his soul to be with you again”

Charlotte smiled softly, knowing that Rafael still cared for her brought some comfort, but the underlying question was that if she reunited with Rafael...how does she know that she can trust him again. The car came to a stop outside her apartment building, and they began their ascent up the elevator then as they reached her floor, they strolled down the hall towards her door; Charlotte settled down on the couch while Carisi prepared dinner. The aroma of cooked pasta and oregano filled the room, after chowing down on their exquisite feast, Charlotte and Carisi planted themselves on the couch and browsed through Netflix until they decided on a romantic comedy with Jude Law and Julia Roberts.

They were well into the movie when there was a knock at the door, Sonny got up and looked through the peephole and then opened the door a crack where in his line of sight he was welcomed by his colleague in a three piece suit; the well rounded and sassy ADA known as Rafael Barba. The two men nodded at one another upon entry, Charlotte carefully sat up and stood in the middle of the living room, there was a moment of awkward silence before Sonny spoke:

“Well I’m going to run down to the store real quick, we ran out of milk”

And with that, Sonny grabbed his coat and left, Rafael and Charlotte looked at each other with weariness in each other’s eyes, not knowing what to say or do. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Rafael broke the ice:

“How are you feeling?”

“For the most part, I feel tired and gross”

Rafael snorted, “If you don’t mind me saying...I think you are still the most beautiful woman to ever walk this Earth”

Charlotte blushed at his words, she forgot that he could be pretty charming when he wanted to be, she fiddled with her fingers as she sat back down on the couch. Rafael soon joined her but kept his distance.

“Listen...the reason I came over was to tell you that I’m happy for you and Carisi”

Charlotte furrowed her brows, “Excuse me”

“He’s a good man...and I know that he’ll take care of you the way you deserve to be...and I think we can make this whole co-parenting situation work as long as there is an open communication with one another”

Charlotte grinned and began giggling, at the same time, Rafael looked on with puzzlement.

“Did I miss something?”

Once she sobered up, she replied, “Rafael...I’m not dating Sonny, we’re just friends”

“But everyone at the precinct has been saying how close you both have gotten and that it was only a matter of time before…”

“Look Rafael...these last six months have been hard and as much as I want to hate you with every fiber of my being, I’ve come to realize that I still love you and I miss you so much”

Rafael gazed upon Charlotte’s face, slowly he brought up his hand and cradled her face, his thumb caressed her cheek as she leaned into his touch. He pulled himself closer to her until their faces were inches apart, he gave her a hesitant kiss on her lips but from there it gained momentum. All those months apart, the longing and need spilled out into the fiery, passionate kisses but then they reluctantly broke the kiss in need for air; their eyes connected for a brief moment until Rafael spoke again:

“I love you Charlotte...and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you...if you’ll have me”

Charlotte desperately wanted to believe him, and while she was unsure as to what the future held for them, all she knew was that she couldn't imagine a life without Rafael in it.

“We have some work to do, but I am willing to give us another try”

#rafael barba x reader #reconciliation #I'm so sorry this took forever for me to get posted #hopefully you all enjoy

36 notes · View notes

spideeysense · 4 years

Text

It Started With A Roll. A Royal!Bucky Barnes x Reader fic (Part 5. FINALE)

A/N: Well folks, here it is the FINALE. I wanted to thank everyone for your continuous support of this fic. I would also like to apologize for my impromptu hiatus. I was struggling with writer’s block, and was feeling a little dragged down mentally. But I am so happy to finally present to you the FINALE!! Woohoo. I had lots of fun writing this one, the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack definitely helps. Enjoy!

Requests are always welcome! Please let me know if you like this genre and if you would like me to write for other characters!

Words: Long. Lmao

Warnings: Light violence. Angst. Mentions of Death. Fluff. Mentions of Illness and Poison.

Part 4

“Steve.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and looked at you quizzically. “You’re the intruder!” You gasped and tried to turn around and run but Steve grabbed you with his strong arms from behind. His grip on your arms was painful, and you tried to wiggle your way out. “Please Steve, you have to listen to me! The King, Bucky, he's in danger.” You pleaded. “I know who’s poisoning him, Steve if you would just-” Before you could continue Steve clapped a large hand around your mouth, muffling your outcry. Awkwardly walking forward, stuck in his grip, you tried and tried to get out, but he was simply too strong.

“Guards!” Steve yelled out, drawing their attention to you.

“I found her, I’ll bring her down myself.” Steve said as he continued to partially drag you down the hallway.

“Are you sure?” One of the guards sneered. “Trying to get back into the Queen’s good graces I see.” The other chided.

Steve rolled his eyes and kept going. Once out of earshot and out of sight of the guards, Steve loosened his grip on you, and removed his hand from in front of your mouth. He wiped it on the front of his pants. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to handle you so roughly.”

You blinked at Steve in confusion, mouth agape.

“Come on, follow me.” As quiet as mice, you and Steve snuck around the palace. You both came to a dead end, and you stood there awkwardly, looking around. “Steve, where are we going?” You asked.

“You’re not the only one who knows about the secret passages.” He quipped. He worked quickly with his hands as he removed a painting from the wall, behind was an empty space.

He nodded his head towards the tunnel and ushered you inside. Behind you, Steve put the painting back in place.

“Keep going, once you arrive to the end push forward on the wall.” You nodded.

Unlike the other tunnel, this one was dimly lit by a few lanterns. You glanced behind you and saw Steve hunched over, doing his best to keep his head from hitting the ceiling. Soon you arrived at the end of the tunnel, and did as you were instructed by Steve.

The wall in front of you came out, and you found yourself in a small cozy room. Inside, Peter was sitting at a small table, dangling a small knife in his hands. “Y/N!” He gasped and engulfed you in a hug. “It’s good to see a familiar face. Astoria kicked all of Bucky’s gentry out.” Peter explained, and pulled out a chair for you.

“We know she has something to do with his illness. She’s the only one who’s been in and out of his room.” Steve started.

“Has a doctor been in there?” You pushed, twiddling your thumbs with worry.

Peter and Steve looked at each other and frowned.

“No, we tried, but she ended up demoting us. She said that her own personal doctor will visit tomorrow.” Steve said.

“That’s when she’ll kill him, at this point, he’d be too weak to fight back.” You said, suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in your head. The room was quiet for a moment, the words sunk into each other's mind.

“She’s using belladonna, and giving it to him through some tea.” You explained to them. Peter looked at you with a questioning gaze. “How do you know that?”

You took in a deep breath, and started explaining what you had seen in the kitchen that day. What you had overheard at the ball, you spared a few details about who you hung out with at the ball, but to no use. Steve and Peter already knew. Bucky had quite the big mouth around his friends.

“The only proof we have is seeing Astoria going in and out of his room, that's it.” Peter hung his head in his hands. “We have nothing else.” You thought for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. “What if we got him to speak.”

“If he were able to speak right now, he would have at least moved.” Steve muttered miserably.

“Earlier, before Steve found me, I spoke to him in his room.” The two guys in front of you perked up. “I can tell it’s hard for him, but it’s possible.”

Peter continued your thought. “If we can get him up and have him speak against her, we can save him.”

Steve smiled “She’ll be tried for treason against the crown!” he exclaimed and clapped his hands together.

You started pacing around the small room. “We don’t have a lot of time. We have to act fast.” You fumbled with your hands and then crossed your arms.

“Peter, you tried to get a doctor earlier, would it be possible to bring him here?” You asked.

Peter nodded and stood up. “I can get him through the kitchen, no one will notice this late at night.”

“Steve, you and I will sneak back to his room, and bring him back here. Does Astoria know about the tunnel?” You asked, worry seeping over you. Both Steve and Peter shook their heads and shrugged. “I don’t think so.” Steve said.

You knew she wouldn’t be back in his room until tomorrow morning. You only had a limited amount of time. “Ok, we have to act quickly.”

The plan was put into motion. Cautiously, you and Steve snuck around the castle, and Peter tried to find the doctor.

Soon enough, you and Steve found yourselves in Bucky’s room. You rushed towards Bucky’s bed and gave him a hug and took in his appearance.

It had drastically changed since you had last seen him. His eyes were half lidded, and he somehow looked even paler. His clothes now stuck to him with sweat. You tried lifting him above your shoulder, but almost crumbled under his weight. You saw his mouth move, but no words came out. Your heart sunk.

“Steve, can you carry him instead?” You asked him.

Steve rushed over to your side. “I gotcha buddy,” He murmured under his breath, and lifted Bucky onto his shoulders.

“You go ahead of me, I’ll join you soon” you mumbled to Steve.

Steve gave you a hard look of worry, but hoisted Bucky through the passage. You got to work to make it look like Bucky had escaped. First you drew back the curtains and flung open the windows. The cool night air hit your face and for a second you allowed yourself to relish in it.

Then, you tied together his bed sheets and threw them out the window, tying your end to a nearby armoire.

“This’ll do.” You murmured. Behind you, you heard the lock jiggle again, and you quickly hid yourself behind the passage. You heard the door open, and the most blood curdling shriek.

You cringed at the sound. The door shut with a slam, and you heard a string of profanities from Astoria’s mouth. You hurried down the dark passageway, careful to not hit your head against the ceiling. You arrived at the end of the tunnel, and had not once bumped into Steve or Bucky. You hoped they had made it back in time.

You left the tunnel and found yourself alone. Here you were, exposed. You quietly turned the corner, and walked at a brisk pace. You heard murmurs of how the King was now missing, or kidnapped travel through the air. You had to find your way back to that portrait.

“You!” You heard the vile voice of Astoria call out to you. You turned around quickly and your eyes widened at the sight. There was Astoria, standing in the hallway. Her face was contorted in a mix of anger and evil.

“I know you have something to do with his escape” she sneered.

Interesting...escape from what? You thought sarcastically.

“I have no clue what you are talking about Your Majesty.” You turned around and gave her a swift curtsy.

“I could have you killed for conspiring against the crown!” She yells, pointing her index finger at you. You gave her a petty frown.

“What crown? All I see in front of me is a sad excuse for a queen.” You spat out. You, yourself, did not know where this boost of confidence came from.

“Guards!” Astoria screeched like a banshee. “Seize her!”

Behind you, a guard clad in a red coat and funny tall hat grabbed your arms and pinned them behind you.

“Bring her to the dungeons, make sure the restraints are tight, I don’t want her to get away.”

As you passed Astoria you sneered at her, and spat on the ground in front of her feet.

“I’ll make sure that by tomorrow, you won’t see the light of day ever again.”

“He’ll spend his life looking you know! He’ll turn over every stone in this Kingdom until he finds me, dead or alive.” You said with conviction. Your face set in certainty. “He’ll never stop.” You whispered as the guard tugged you along.

In your heart, you wanted to believe it was true. If your destiny was really to spend eternity in a dark cave, until your skin turned to bone, you would hope that Bucky wouldn’t give up. That he would search until he found a semblance of your existence.

Your mind said otherwise. Throughout the escapades you had with him, the rational part of your brain planted seeds of doubt. That he didn’t really love you, that he didn’t think you were Goddess divine.

The guard led you through parts of the palace you had never seen. You passed portraits of Bucky as a young boy, portraits of his parents, their eyes looking down upon you. You wonder how they would’ve felt, if they knew Bucky had fallen in love with a peasant girl.

When you reached the cramp stairs to the dungeons the guard pushed you forward, you almost tripped on your shoes, which would’ve sent you flying down the stone steps. It seemed like you were descending for hours. The stairwell was old, much older than you, much older than the former royals. It was dimly lit by torches that had a hard time staying aflame due to the dampness.

“Are we descending into hell?” You sarcastically questioned the guard. He only responded with a deep grunt. “Feels like it.” You muttered under your breath.

Finally you arrived in a cramped, dimly lit hallway. At the end stood a rusted iron door. You could hear the sound of water dripping onto the stone floor. The guard rustled around his pocket until he pulled out an old looking key, he turned it a couple times in the padlock before the door opened with an ear splitting squeak. You cringed at the noise.

He shoved you quite forcefully inside and you hit the ground with a muffled thud. The pain split into your arm, the restraints that bound your wrists behind you didn’t help.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” You yelled as the guard shut the door. He didn’t respond and you heard the key click in the lock.

You sat against the wall. There were no windows, nothing to indicate the time that had passed. You guessed it was early morning, before the sun rose. The room smelled of mold and a light decay. There was no use yelling, no one would hear you. The ties on your wrist made it nearly impossible to even fidget your arms. The pain started to subside and all you could do was sit in wait.

You hoped that the doctor had found a way to cure Bucky. You hoped that Steve and Peter were alright. You hoped the plan had work. You would never forgive yourself if Bucky perished from the poison.

You dragged yourself to the corner and leaned your head against the wall. It felt cold. You shut your eyes and tried to fall off into a much needed sleep.

You drifted in out of sleep. You would hear something nearby, but it would only be the ground shifting, or a door from the floor above slamming, or the iron bars creaking.

The dark seemed to come from every corner of the room but by now you were sure it was morning, even if the sunshine didn’t reach this far down. And it had truly felt like an eternity had passed before you heard a flurry of footsteps come down the stairs.

Quickly, you stood up, backing yourself into the corner. Had Astoria really meant her threat to hang you?

Was this how you met your demise, not in some dark cavern, but by rope?

The door opened, once again releasing a loud and annoying creaking. You let out the breath you had been holding. In front of you was a much healthier looking Bucky, his eyes were bright, and from what you could see in the dark light, the color had returned to his skin. Behind him stood both Peter and Steve, smiles plastered on their faces.

You broke out into a wide grin, and you almost crumbled at the knees seeing them. Tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “It worked” You whispered. Peter worked on your restraints and as soon as you were free you rushed towards Bucky, closing the distance between you two.

He gently grabbed your waist as you collided into him. You stroked his face over and over again. You leaned forward and pressed a fiery kiss to his lips, his lips moved against yours in tandem as his thumb swiped at the stray tears that escaped your eyes. The moment was broken Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.

You both pulled away fervently. Bucky smiled at you.

“What about Astoria?” You asked. The room fell silent.

“We can’t find her. Once I was able to stand and speak more clearly, I had her placed under arrest.” Bucky started, not meeting your eyes. “Somehow, she escaped, most likely returning to her kingdom.”

“She’s failed her mission, I doubt she’d try again, after we give the people the news I doubt she’d want to show her face here again.” Steve continued. “Don’t worry, by the end of the day the whole kingdom will know what she tried to do.” He reassured you. You gave a worried look but allowed yourself to breathe a little.

The group clambered up the stairs, stumbling over the steps. Once out of the dungeons Bucky held onto your arm and tugged you away from Steve and Peter. He pulled you down the hall and into, what you assumed, was his study.

“My love, I am so so sorry.” Bucky started but you stopped him and shook your head. “Please, I don’t need apologies. All that matters is that we are here. Alive.” You took a step forward, and he bent down at his neck so your foreheads could touch. “Together.” you whispered. Bucky pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then to your nose, and finally your lips.

When he pulled away he stared into your eyes, reaching deep into your soul. “I love you Y/N. I am completely and totally enamored with you. I hang onto every word that leaves your lips like a child who clings onto the stories of its mother. Everytime I see you, I feel my heart palpitate in my chest, and it feels as though it is going to explode. My love for you is so intense that sometimes when I gaze upon your beauty I feel as though you are Goddess that I must worship. And I want to gaze upon you tomorrow, and everyday after that-” Bucky lilted, he looked at you longingly, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink once again. “Will you marry me?”

You were speechless. All you could do to respond was nod and bring him closer for another kiss, and as you pulled away you whispered in his ear. “I do like the idea of you worshipping me like a Goddess.” Bucky smiled at you with one of his goofy smiles, and pulled your hand towards him. He got down onto one knee and fished a dainty, diamond encrusted ring out of his pocket, and slipped it onto your ring finger. You pulled him back up, and he pressed a sweet kiss to your finger.

“I will love you forever and always.” You spoke in a gentle tone, and you basked in each other’s quiet company. The thoughts of marriage swam around in your mind, but for the time being both you and Bucky wanted to relax, and finally, freely spend time together.

As you stood there, Bucky pressed another soft kiss to your forehead.

“Come, let’s go join the others.” He spoke softly and you gladly agreed.

Everything had fallen into place. This was where you were meant to be. And it was silly to think, that all this had started with a roll.

taglist:

@thefallenbibliophilequote @dolan-mendes @fatefuldestinies @loveofmychips

@unlistedpond @octoberbarnes @fanfuckingtastic04 @sebastianstansqueen

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #buckybarnes x reader #royal #royal au #bucky fluff #king!bucky #avengers #avengers imagine #x reader #royal!bucky

32 notes · View notes

hermankopusortizorsumshite · 3 years

Text

Field Nurse Cora: Bucky Barnes fanfiction

Bucky Barnes Fanfiction. Disclaimer I don’t own Bucky or any Marvel characters. I only own my original character. TRIGGER WARNING: mind control, violence, mentions of blood, probably a lot of warnings, so be warned I suppose. But anyway, enjoy. Chapters will be posted on Sunday or Monday(normally) by 11:30PM.

Thank you for your support and enjoy some drabble into the Marvel Universe.

Chapter Two: Waking Up a Supersoldier Nurse

Upon waking up, she finds herself strapped to a gurney, hands cuffed to the edges of the bed. Wriggling back and forth, she finds it impossible to move and starts to scream. “Help me! Help me! Help!” She shrieks over and over, to no avail. A short man appears out of no where, carrying a small metal case and wearing a lab coat. “Doctor! There must be some kind of misunderstanding. I’m a healthy person. I’m never sick.” She reasons, almost begging for her life. The small man looks at her with a sick smile and shakes his head.

“You may be healthy my dear, but when this is over you’ll be my first superhuman machine.” He cheers, shaking his fists in the air.

“Superhuman machine? You have the wrong person sir.” She tries to reason, praying he’d let her go.

“Oh, I have precisely the right person. You’re the right woman. Don’t you worry. I asked your charge nurse in the hospital, she said you were very good and proficient at training the new hires at the hospital; the best trainer, in fact.” The small man sneers.

“Doctor Zola, the serum is ready.” Another man steps out of the shadows of the laboratory equipment.

“Alright my dear, you’re going to be injected with a super soldier serum. You’ll be my soldier nurse and trainer to the men I’m going to create. They’ll need a trainer and nurse with superhuman strengths. A regular nurse will be too breakable.” He explains, giving her a gross smile.

“No! Please I’m not even strong! I’ll die!” She shrieks, thrashing back and forth, yanking on the the restraints with all her might.

“After observing you in the field, you were the one I wanted for my newest project.” He crows, taking the vile and twists towards the metal case, only to return with a long-needled syringe.

“Oh please, no.” She breathes out, feeling lightheaded and then passing out. Zola proceeds, sticking her with the needle and emptying the contents of the syringe chamber into her arm. She lay there unconscious for another ten to twenty minutes. As she awakens, her body felt as though it was pumping fire through her veins, or maybe straight gasoline. Grunting in pain as her veins pulse harshly, she writhes back and forth as the serum courses through her veins.

“Now, as my first project, I don’t expect you to die but I’ve only seen this executed on one other person. So without further ado, let’s get started.” A man cuffs her wrists and ankles with thick steel shackles before transporting her another room where a table lay with a fresh, white sheet across it. They force her onto the cold, metal surface where she shivers a moment. Pulling out the anesthetic apparatus and sitting it on the table next to them, her eyes wander over the shimmering yet horrific tools that lay perfectly set out on a tray. A drill, a scalpel, a clamp, her mind sinks as she realizes they are going to perform a lobotomy.

“Doctor, do you find a lobotomy necessary?” She stammers, sweat running down her face and mixing with the tears that leaked from the corner of her eyes.

“I do, if the lob doesn’t work we’ll do electromagnetic shock therapy after you recover. I have plans for you, young lady. Miss Cora Winston, you’re going to be the world’s second and Soviet’s first supersoldier.” He grins, cheering and clapping as he washes his hands they set her up for surgery. With clean hands and her on the cusp of dreamland, Doctor Zola begins his procedure on his newest subject.

A couple days into her traumatic new life as a nurse supersoldier, she was healing nicely, though Zola left a small opening for tweaking just in case. He put, essentially, a plug into the opening to keep it clean and safe; her hair falling over both sides to hide her port, as he called it.

“Morning Miss Winston! How are we feeling?” He cheers, handing her a cup of coffee and a file folder. “Mister Barnes, there, is our newest addition to the supersoldier company. You’ll be training him, I have a series of words in the red notebook there for you. He has a one time shut off code ‘Sputnik’. But other than that, all of his information is in there for you. Mister Barnes and Captain America were best friends, a shame they’ll become enemies. Mister Barnes will be the most highly trained assassin in the world if we do this right. That Mister Barnes isn’t the same man who so bravely tried to protect you from is it?” He asks, a cheap smirk on his lips as he gives her a knowing glance. She stays silent, staring at the face that sits before her on the file: James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes.

“I believe so, though I’m not sure. I can’t remember much.” She stares darkly at him, and his evil grin falters for a second.

“It’ll come back to you, my dear. All in due time.” He pats her shoulder. Stepping a couple paces from the door of her cell room, he turns to look at her over his shoulder, hand on the cool knob. “Also, we start the serum on the hundred-and-seventh infantry in one hour.” With that, the man slips from the room. The hour passes like many and soon she finds her feet carrying her to the keyed door that leads into Exam 1: Subject Injections.

“Welcome back! Doctor Zola will be here momentarily.” The head of security waves to everyone as they pile in, all standing against the wall. Unwelcome eyes burning into the hundred-and-seventh infantry men standing before them like lab rats. Her eyes land on Bucky, his meeting hers in a silent cry for help.

“Welcome! Welcome! These simple American soldiers are destined to become something so much more powerful. They’ll be highly trained assassins. Killing machines with no remorse or second guessing. A platoon of highly skilled and easily controlled supersoldier hybrids.” He gives the go-ahead for each doctor working under him to administer the serum to each soldier simultaneously. “If you’ll direct your attention to your left, Cora, my lovely assisstant will be joining me for the next part.” His eyes meet with hers and she nods, heading towards him. Her hand sneaks a grip of Bucky’s in attempt to console him. Jerking from left to right, Bucky gives a yell and she winces for him. “Miss Cora will be training these soldiers and turning them into the killing machines they are destined to be. You may be thinking, a woman as a trainer of soldiers, but women are the future. Miss Cora will prove that in the next couple hours!” Just as he starts to hook one of the other soldiers to the electroconvulsive shock machine, a crash above them is heard.

“Quick! Secure the soldiers and the nurse!” The security guard shouts, directing the soldiers down a corridor away from her. Bucky glances over his shoulder as they shove him away, giving her one last look. Restraints are placed on her hands and feet and she’s put into a chamber and frozen. Her pulse so low it’s undetectable, she drifts into a weird state of purgatory; not dead, yet not quite alive.

TAGLIST: @angel-grace1997 @princessinwonderland23 @vicmackeybullshxt

#bucky barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #buckybarnesfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel universe #Marvel #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel mcu #james buchanan barnes #fanfiction #fanfic

4 notes · View notes

fxkthatdairy · 4 years

Text

PANIC ROOM CHAPTER THREE: HOMEBASE ~GRAYSON DOLAN

Overview- In the year 2020, to solve the problem of overpopulation. Selected few are thrown into the PANIC ROOM simulation. If the person finds their soulmate in the simulator and manages to survive, they are able to rejoin the rest of the population. If they fail they will become a victim of the PANIC ROOM. What happens when (Y/N) gets thrown in the PANIC ROOM? Will she survive? Or will she fall victim to the simulation?

Warnings: severe angst, violence (epilepsy warning for the photo ⚠️) Heavy language

First Casualty: Emily Brown The announcement rang through the whole complex. Not even five minutes in and shit has hit the fan. This was going to be more difficult than Grayson and I knew.

Grayson led the way as the wilderness surround us. From what we could hear, we were lucky and got thrown in a secluded part of the huge arena. We walked, careful of our movements and noise levels, we didn’t want to attract anyone near us. We eventually found a creek with a nice secluded area perfect to set up camp. Grayson pulled out the tent they had provided for us and set it up. He also put bushes and leaves around it so that it was hidden from the human eye. I grabbed the machete and carved our initials in the tee beside it so that we knew that this was our tent. Grayson and I then decided we were going to go exploring, not far from our base, to see if we could find any food or extra ammunition. I spotted a huge package of what seemed like food and ammunition near the trunk of a tree. I reached down to pick it up when I felt like something bit into my hand, I let out a small screech of pain and began looking for what bit me. My vision began to become blurry as if I was hallucinating. My hearing went fuzzy and my balance was thrown off balance.

“(Y/N) are you okay? What’s wrong? What happened?” Grayson questioned as he helped me sit down to the ground. Everything went back to normal and I was about to respond to Grayson saying that I was fine, until it seemed like a whole swarm of spiders began to crawl in from all around me. One of my biggest fears was of spiders. I hated the way they looked, moved, lived, I hated spiders so much. My heart began racing fast and my breathing was getting heavier and heavier as they approached closer and closer. I began curling myself in a ball as the hot tears ran down my face.

“(Y/N) you have to tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you. I need you to breathe.” Grayson said calmly. How the fuck was he so calm, did he not see the fucking swarm of spiders coming to fucking eat us alive?

“Sp-sp-sp-sp-spiders. Everywhere, they are fucking coming to eat us alive Gray.” I said through my hyperventilating breaths. Grayson looked around and saw nothing but he did spot a vile of something next to where she was stung. It read: Fear Serum. It looked completely empty and then he put two and two together. This was part of the simulation. She was seeing one of her fears that weren’t actually real.

“(Y/N) listen to me. There are no spiders. This is the simulation trying to scare you to death. Look at me, look me in the eyes, take a deep breath, in,” he said and I stared into his eyes taking a deep breath in,” and out, let’s do what we did in the room. Just keep breathing. Realize there is nothing here to physically hurt you. The spiders are fake; they are a figment of your imagination.” He spoke softly and calmly as he continued to breathe deeply with me. Soon everything around me began to disappear. There were no more spiders; only Grayson. My heartbeat stabilized as well as my breathing. I wrapped my arms around Grayson and held on tightly.

“Thank you, they are gone now, thank you for helping me Gray,” I said as I pulled away. I felt my cheeks heat up slightly.

“You’re welcome (Y/N), now let’s keep going.” He said grabbing the package that (Y/N) had originally been going for and placed it on the duffel bag that was around his shoulders. I stood up and dusted myself off following behind Grayson.

“So what exactly happened to your dad if you don’t mind me asking,” Grayson said as we walked along the trail.

“I don’t remember much. I remember we were in the car heading to the grocery store when a car came out of nowhere and t-boned us. From there I remember the ambulance and then being in the hospital and the doctors telling me that my father had been killed and my mother was in surgery.” I said as I honestly pushed down the memories of the accident a long time ago.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could have helped you through it all. Losing a parent is hard especially when you’re young, I know personally, my dad passed away last year and it still hurts to this day.” He said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry Gray if you don’t mind me asking how did he pass?” I asked still following behind him at a slow pace.

“Well, a few years ago he was diagnosed with cancer. The doctor told us he had about a year left but he pushed for two and a half more years. When he passed, I felt lost, I still feel lost. He was my best friend.” Grayson spoke softly. I completely understood. The memories I remember of my father were all happy and he was my best friend and I remembered the months I felt sad but I had to remain strong for my mother who was falling apart in front of me.

“I’m so sorry Gray. Grieving is the most important part. You have to feel that shit and then eventually it gets better. It never goes away but it gets better.” I said as I wiped away a stray tear that had begun to fall down my cheek.

“Does it really?” He said looking at me with hope.

“It does Gray, you just need time and people around you that truly love and care you and you have that with your mom, brother and sister.” I desperately wanted to say myself as well but I pushed that aside.

“Thank you (Y/n)” he said and continued walking.

“So why did you never reach out after everything? I missed you you know.” He said.

“Well, my mother has never truly gotten over my father. So I had to grow up fast. I began taking all my course that I needed and I graduated by the time I was 15 and able to get a job. I then began working two jobs to help support my mother and myself as best as I could. I never had time to be a child or a teenager because I needed to take care of my mom. So I shut everyone out. I became a loner because that was the only way I could deal with my situation.” I said. Grayson stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“I never knew. I wish I would’ve been able to help (Y/N). You deserved a childhood. I promise you when we get out of here I’m going to show you everything you missed.” He said and then turned back around and continued to walk. Grayson felt sad and frustrated, he wish he had been around to help provide money, provide her a friendship where she wasn’t alone, he wanted to be there for her but that’s in the past and you can’t change the past but in the future, he’ll make sure she’ll never have to go through something similar to that ever again as long as he was alive. He wanted so much to turn around, grab her by the waist, pull her in close, and kiss her deeply on the mouth but he knew it wasn’t the right time. He heard two people arguing intensely and grabbed her and pulled her behind a tree and placed his hand over her mouth. He brought up a finger to his mouth signaling to be extremely quite. I nodded in obedience.

“You don’t have to kill me, we can make it out together Thomas. Please put the gun down.” A lady’s voice could be heard.

“Oh, Jessica that would be nice but see I simply can’t do that. This is all about survival and I can’t make it with you. You’re weak, you’ll just slow me down. I love you though see you on the other side.” A man who I assumed to be Thomas spoke. I heard the click of a gun.

“Thomas no please do-“ a loud gunshot rang and the lady’s voice stopped. My body trembled and tears began running down my face. Grayson kept one hand over my mouth so that I would not make a noise and the other on his gun. Grayson knew he was going to have to be extremely quiet until Thomas went away. If not Grayson would have no choice but to put a bullet through his head which he already wanted to do because he killed the woman he supposedly loved because she was extra weight on him. That wasn’t real love. He would never kill (Y/N) because she was too weak. He would carry her till the end and if she died, he would die with her.

Another Casualty: Jessica Webster . The announcement rang. Grayson and I stood as quietly and still as humanly possible. We heard a scattering of footsteps began running in the opposite way. Grayson peeked around to make sure everyone was clear. We waited five more minutes for Thomas to get as far away as possible. Once the coast was clear we backed away from the tree. I saw the bloody body of Jessica and the look of fear of betrayal that was still etched on her face. I turned away as silent tears fell down my face. Grayson grabbed my hand and led us back to our home base. Once we got back to camp we locked ourselves in our tent making sure we were completely hidden. We opened the package that we had found on our journey. Inside the package were more ammunition, a few pocket knives, and some bagged snacks such as chips, nuts, and some m&ms, as well as two sandwiches. We gladly ate the sandwiches as we didn’t even realize how hungry our bodies were until we saw the food in front of us. As we were eating my mind kept going back to Thomas and Jessica, they were in love and he killed her simply because she was the weak link. I then realized how I could be considered the weak link to Grayson.

“Hey Gray, Can you promise me something?” I spoke softly, the fear laced in my voice.

“Yeah of course (Y/N).” He said and looked up concerned.

“No matter how tough it gets, push me through, don’t let me quit and please don’t kill me because I’m weak,” I said as a tear fell down my cheek. The fear of everything truly had hit me now.

“Oh (Y/N), I would never,” he said reaching over and wiped the tears that were coming from my eyes,” we are in this together, I would never kill you. If you were to die I would die as well. I care too much about you to shoot you because I thought you were the weakest link. If you weren’t with me when that douchebag killed his girlfriend because he was a lazy fuck and didn’t want to risk his own life to keep his girlfriends alive, I would’ve killed him. But I didn’t want you to see me angry. I knew you were already scared and I know you don’t like violence.” He said softly and stroked the side of my face with his thumb gently. God Grayson's heart beater heavily in his chest, even scared shitless with a tear-stained face she still looked like the prettiest girl in the world to him.

“Thank you, Gray. That means a lot. Thank you for caring.” I said a placed a soft kiss on his cheek and let out a yawn. All that crying made me extremely sleepy.

“No problem (Y/N). How about this, you get some sleep and I’ll watch out and then once you feel rested we will switch. I feel we are in a good enough spot that nobody would find us but I want to have double protection just in case.” Grayson said and laid the blanket on top of me. He sat in front of the tent door from the inside watching the shadows outside. He looked over and saw (Y/N) sleeping soundly and fell even more in love. He knew he would gladly die for her. He knew he had to protect her at all costs. He watched intensely outside to make sure nothing or no one snuck upon them. He also stared at the fake stars, he saw a fake wishing star but he said fuck it and made a wish anyway. I wish (Y/N) and I will make it out of here alive so that I can ask her to marry me and we can have a family and a future. I also wish she feels the same way as I feel about her.

———————————————————————

Part three is done! I hope you guys enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on how the series is going so far.As always let me know if you have any requests, concepts, or blurbs. Part four will probably be up in the next few days. Part seven of The Principals Office should be up within the next couple of days as well. Love you guys 🥺😊💛

Tags: @dolanshellyes @graysavant @graydolan12 @flowery-dolan @dolan-bliss @justordinaryjen @fandomsfeministsandothershit @dolans4lyfe @lanelessdolan @pineappledols @reblogserpent

#grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fluff #ethandolan #ethan dolan fluff'#ethan dolan au #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan #ethan dolan fic #dolan twins au #dolan twins imagines #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins

85 notes · View notes

flutteringphalanges · 4 years

Photo

Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapter: 10 (Part One)/?

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you so much everyone who read and left a review for this chapter! It means the world! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Stay safe and healthy!

Chapter Ten (Part One)

Dracula Residence

Present Time

“Sunny, you can’t just waltz into the Harker Foundation and demand that they let your parents go without there being repercussions,” Jack tried to explain as Sorina angrily paced back and forth. “You’ll get killed!”

“I’m immortal,” she shot back. “I can’t die!”

“That’s far from the truth,” Zoe frowned, her niece not even meeting her stare. “Sorina, just because someone is immortal doesn’t mean they can’t be killed. And the fact that the Foundation was able to bring both of your parents in with,” she glanced around. “What seems to be little of a struggle is a great concern.”

“Then how exactly do you propose we get in?!” Sorina exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. “Your key card has been cancelled and I’m sure soon enough Jack’s will be too. The longer we wait, who knows what they’ll do to them! And it’s not like I’m equipped with any skills in martial arts.” She caught a quick glimpse of a look of surprise on the young man’s face. “I was locked up for decades, Jack, the only thing anyone ever taught me was how to hide and be unnoticed. Stealth. Basically, a useless trait!” She paused. “My agility is enhanced, but like I said, I’ve never been in hand to hand combat.”

“We’d need to think creatively on this one to get in,” Zoe replied, cutting through Sorina’s tirade. “And how to defend ourselves. You both know well enough that the Foundation is known for being armed and heavily guarded. Jack, I don’t suppose you have any hidden talents that may help?”

The young man paused, choosing his words carefully. “I’m good with a bat.” Both women blinked, and Jack found himself awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck. “I played baseball as a kid. Was pretty good at it too.”

“Great,” Sorina’s exhaled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “So we’re bringing ourselves and a bat to a gunfight. Brilliant. Let me go grab my butter knife and we’ll be good to go!”

She collapsed on the couch, her head resting in her hands. This was her own doing. Maybe if she hadn’t fought with her dad. Maybe if she had spent the night here. Maybe then they’d both be safe. Sorina sucked in a breath, trying to hold back tears of anger and remorse. Jack sat down beside her, putting an arm around her. Zoe watched quietly, contemplating her next move.

“I have a handgun.”

Sorina looked up from the floor and at the doctor curiously. “What?”

“I have a handgun,” she repeated. “In my dresser drawer for safety measures. Anyway, that’s beside the point.” Zoe ran a hand through her hair. “If we’re going to do this now, we best prepare how we can. This won’t be an easy feat.”

The Jonathan Harker Foundation

The last time Agatha stepped foot in a hospital was in 1870 during the fourth Cholera outbreak pandemic. She was but a child, eleven, when her mother fell victim to the illness. To this day, she could still visualize the crowded room of the sick and dying. The moans. Pleading. Putrid smells. But where she was now made that a distant memory. Clean. Pristine. A dirty, yellowed mattress replaced by a gleaming metal table. Her wrists and ankles bound by restraints that, no matter how hard she tugged, wouldn’t come undone.

“There’s absolutely no reason to struggle, Agatha. I promise you it’ll get you nowhere.”

Dr. Bloxham entered the room, followed by two other individuals wearing matching lab coats. One pulled a strange device by their side that the vampire didn’t recognize. She stiffened, eyes locked on the doctor’s as the woman leaned over her.

“You’ve missed over a century’s worth of technology,” the scientist explained, turning around to fiddle with the object. “Medical science has come so far from 1900. It’s incredible how humans can advance,” she paused, smirking. “We are, after all, the superior species-unlike your husband, I’m sure, would beg to differ.”

“Yet, one might wager that both can be equally as cruel,” Agatha interjected, watching as Bloxham removed a probe-like device. “This Foundation, I knew Mina personally, I doubt she ever intended it to be like this.”

“What she desired and the outcome no longer matter,” the woman said simply, pulling up the fabric of Agatha’s clothes to reveal her bare abdomen. “Anyway, the vile nature of your kind was proven when Dracula took the liberty of removing my thumb.” Bloxham, not diverting her attention away from the former nun, addressed one of the scientists. “Lubrication gel.”

The substance was cold the moment it touched the vampire’s skin. Agatha’s fingers dug into her palms as the transducer was pressed hard against her stomach. If her heart could, it’d be pumping right now. She stared darkly at Bloxham as the woman moved the object across her flesh. Suddenly, an odd swishing sound filled the room and Bloxham paused immediately.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she exhaled, mouth curving into an unsettling grin. “It has a heartbeat.” Her eyes flickered over to Agatha’s. “Like sister, like sibling. Things just became a lot more interesting…”

Jack Seward’s Residence

Sorina sat curled up in the passenger seat, glancing out the window as Jack came hurrying out of his flat. It had been hours since the realization that her parents had been abducted and though she would’ve loved nothing more to immediately go in full force, Zoe had insisted they wait several hours until the next nightfall.

“Are we ready?” Jack inquired as he slipped into the back seat, his bat resting on the floor.

It was a load questioned. They were far from ready. Far from being well equipped. Hell, dawn would be making its appearance in a few hours. Time was indeed slipping away from them and Sorina could feel it like sand in an hourglass.

“We’re going to have to find a way in,” Zoe said quietly, restarting her car as they drove down the mostly empty road. “I’m sure both Jack’s and my key cards have been cancelled out.”

Sorina paused. “There’s an opening towards the top of the left wing side of the building. It feeds into the air ducts.”

“But there isn’t a ladder we can use to reach it,” the young man countered. “And even if we did, who knows if it could hold our weight.”

“I can do it.”

Both Zoe and Jack looked to Sorina, who eyed them both solemnly. Maybe she couldn’t turn into a bat or could run at an inhuman speed, but she was agile. Far more than any person she knew. If anyone could get up there, it was her.

“But what if…”

“It won’t,” she interrupted, cutting him off. “I’ll climb in and once I’m inside, I’ll figure out how to open the entrance.” Sorina offered a wry smile. “Like I’ve said before, I know the place like it’s the back of my hand.”

The Jonathan Harker Foundation

It felt odd. Viewing the stone building in a different light. Sorina essentially grew up within the walls of the Foundation. It had been a second home in a sense. But now that she stood outside of it, staring up at the pipe opening along with Zoe and Jack, another feeling deep within her rose. Resentment.

“I’ll send you a text when I’m in,” Sorina exhaled, looking over her shoulder. “Be ready to go. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it open.”

As she stepped forward, fingers pressed against the icy rock, she felt a hand on her arm. Turning, Sorina met Zoe’s eyes, a small glint of concern flickering within them.

“Be careful,” her aunt warned. “Promise me.”

The halfling nodded, suddenly finding it difficult to reply. Swallowing hard, she gazed upwards. With all of the confidence she could muster, she hugged the wall and began to shimmy upwards. She dared not look down, the idea of seeing how far from the ground she was made her dizzy. But in no time, she made it to the large, metal opening. Taking in a deep gulp of air, she made her way inside, darkness cloaking the atmosphere around her.

Sorina wasn’t afraid of the dark. She’d grown up in its silent embrace. She knew not of the sun, nor the light it carried. Just pictures of it. Images on television and movies. So as she made her way through the maze of pipes, she didn’t fear it. Even if she had, the determination to save her parents was far greater than a worry such as that. And it was with that ease, she found the entrance way, slipping through the grate in the ceiling and gracefully landing on the floor.

“Code,” she mumbled to herself. “Code, code, code…”

Her fingers danced on the keypad, trying not to focus on the surprise that there weren’t any guards nearby. With a satisfying click, the main entrance creaked open and she was immediately greeted to the sight of Zoe and Jack.

“You’re brilliant, Sunny,” Jack beamed.

“We’ll have time to congratulate later,” Zoe whispered. “Come on, the clock is ticking.” Sorina eyed the gun in her aunt’s hand, but said nothing. “The prison is way down the hall. Christ knows how many people are guarding it. We need to stay focused.”

As they began to make their way deeper into the bowels of the Foundation, Sorina heard the muffled sound of a discussion coming from a room nearby. Something about it made her stop, much to the alarm of Zoe. The halfling turned as her aunt hissed and crept towards the open door. Her eyes went wide at the sight. There, strapped down, guarded by two men, was her mother.

“Mum-”

A hand clamped over her mouth and Zoe yanked the girl out of plain sight as the men began to turn. Sorina struggled, finally breaking free. Her eyes were wild as she pointed towards the room.

“They have my Mum in there,” she whispered. “We have to go…”

“You can’t just run in there like that,” the doctor hissed. “You can’t be stupid about this, Sorina!”

“Then what do you suppose we do then?!” The halfling exclaimed, eyes beginning to brim with tears. “We can’t just leave her. We can’t-”

“I’ll cause a distraction,” Jack said quietly, causing both women to look at him. “I’ll distract them somehow and you go and get Agatha out.”

“Jack,” Sorina breathed. “You…”

“I’ll be fine, Sunny,” he said, offering her a small smile. “Trust me.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to expect when Jack said he had a plan for distracting the two guards who had her mother. But when he slipped away and the distant sound of a bat being struck across a wall, if she wasn’t so hellbent on saving her parents, perhaps it’d be almost comedical. Watching the enterance hopeful and relieved to see the two men actually exit, she and Zoe made a dash for the examination room.

“Mum!” Sorina cried out, hurrying to the bond woman’s side.

“Sorina?” Agatha gasped, a mixture of shock and worry on her face. “How did you…why are you here?!”

“We’re going to get you out,” her daughter promised, yanking at the restraints. “Are you hurt?! Where’s Dad?!”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Agatha scolded, sitting up as Zoe managed to figure out how to undo the locks. “It’s too dangerous.” She paused, glancing towards the door. “I’m fine. Your father was still in the cell last time I checked. Sorina, you need to leave right now.”

“No!” The halfing exclaimed, fury manifesting in her tone. “Not without you and Dad!” Sorina’s breathing was ragged and try as she might, her emotions were getting the better of her. “I’m not losing you two again!”

The sound of footsteps pounding on the marble floor caused all three women to grow silent. Suddenly, and much to everyone’s relief, it was only Jack who appeared. His hair was windswept, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“We need to get out of here,” he panted. “They’re coming.”

“I’m not leaving without my Dad,” Sorina insisted, gaze turning to her mother. “Mum…”

Agatha was silent for a moment. “I can hold them off,” she stated. “But I don’t know for how long. If things go awry,” her stare locked on Sorina. “You leave. All three of you. Do you understand?”

“But Mum, I…”

“Sorina,” she repeated, firmer this time. “I need you to listen to me. If I tell you to run, you run.”

The girl reluctantly nodded. “Okay.” As much as she hated the idea, she knew if it came down to it, she’d be forced to. “Okay.”

Sorina, Jack, Zoe, and Agatha stood side by side, the sound of shouting and hurried footsteps growing closer and closer. The halfling felt something light brush against her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Jack was watching her. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. It was now or never. Her eyes narrowed, knees bent, and for the first time in her life, Sorina felt the blood of a vampire rush through her veins. The call of Dracula’s daughter.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dracula on Netflix #Agatha Van Helsing #Dragatha #Dracula x Agatha #Mirabile Visu

13 notes · View notes

satonthelotuspier · 4 years

Text

I wrote a continuation for a prompt XueXiao bodyguard/idol fic here (please heed the warnings on this one).

Modern AU, there will be one or two more parts, I broke it down to keep me focussed to finish it, as I’m trying to get rid of some of my WIPs before I leap into the zillion xicheng ideas I live with constantly.

CW: It’s a little spicy. Fic begins under cut.

Chapter 2 - What Happens In Paris Doesn’t Stay In Paris

Xue Yang rolled over at the gentle shake to his shoulder. He would have groaned or complained but the slight, unfamiliar aches and pains made him bite his tongue.

He was no doubt going to get into trouble anyway but he didn’t want to draw attention to the fact he was a little sore.

Still, he could put it off no longer, and he opened his eyes.

Xiao Xingchen had woken him because their room service breakfast order had arrived.

“I left you for a while, but if you sleep any longer we’re going to miss the entire day” he said, and Xue Yang made a noise of agreement, his focus on the selection of warm, freshly baked pastries on the tray.

“May I have one of those, please?” he asked hopefully, holding his hand out.

Xiao Xingchen clicked his tongue, “I’m pretty sure they’re for sensible people, and not for dummies who possess the self-preservation instincts of a lemming” nevertheless he was handed a croissant which he fell upon with his usual zeal. Xiao Xingchen had never seen a croissant devoured so thoroughly; normally they showered flaky pastry everywhere yet not even a single fleck escaped Xue Yang. It was a talent.

“I can be sensible” Xue Yang told him eyeing up the tray again, “I can try at least”

“Then why the ever-loving fuck would you not tell me you were a virgin?” that did get Xue Yang’s attention, and his eyes flew up to meet Xiao Xingchen’s.

“Firstly, I would have thought my crappy attempt at a kiss in the nightclub would be indication enough I had no experience with kissing even, let alone sex” he could feel a flush beginning to form on his face. “Secondly, perhaps you shouldn’t believe the gossip you read everywhere”

Xiao Xingchen clicked his tongue again and removed the plate from Xue Yang’s eyeline, who whined like a scolded puppy. “Even if you discount the rumours of promiscuity that still wouldn’t exclude you from having any sexual experience at all. You are so focussed on self-destruction it boggles my mind”

“That’s not it” Xue Yang denied hotly, “I’m not, just what 23 year old wants to admit he’s never done it before?”

“So saving face is more important than not getting hurt...”

Honestly despite his initial urge to agree he could tell it would just piss Xiao Xingchen off, so he looked down at the bed in exaggerated contrition.

“You didn’t even have to claim virginity, you could have just said you’d never done anal before; we could have even kept it to non-penetrative, if only you’d used your brain there was so much else we could have done, or more precautions I could have taken” he knocked Xue Yang on the forehead with the heel of his palm gently.

“I wanted it. And it wouldn’t have mattered how gentle you were, the first time is likely going to be uncomfortable. I know you’re having a great time calling me an idiot but I’m not totally stupid, I did read up on it. And it’s not like after the discomfort wore off I didn’t enjoy the hell out of it. You’re talking like I didn’t tell you and you dry fucked me”

Xiao Xingchen caught hold of his chin, fingers digging into Xue Yang’s cheeks softly, “Honestly, this mouth of yours just doesn’t stop, does it?”

Xue Yang’s breath caught, “You could do something about it” he invited, his lashes sweeping down to hide the expression in his eyes.

“I could” Xiao Xingchen agreed, leaning in. At the last moment he pulled back and instead of his lips he pressed a pastry to Xue Yang’s.

Xue Yang certainly wasn’t annoyed, he merely sank his teeth into it immediately; staking his claim.

“I’m not even mad” Xue Yang shrugged as he finished off the sweet, then made a dive for the plate containing the rest.

***

Xue Yang was a man of many contradictions. Not least the one that despite the effort it took to get him out of bed in a morning once he was up and running he didn’t stop.

Xue Yang dragged Xiao Xingchen the length and breadth of Paris, cramming more into a single day of sightseeing than the other would have ever thought possible. They ended it with dinner at a restaurant that served local cuisine, then took a walk over the Pont Neuf. They paused on the famous bridge to take a few more snaps and a quick video for Xue Yang’s social media accounts, as per Jin Guangyao’s orders, then walked on.

It was like a fantasy, this, a stolen moment in time. They’d have to return to China soon, and Xiao Xingchen would be assigned to another client and then that was probably that, right?

At least he’d have memories.

“What’s wrong?” Xiao Xingchen asked. They’d walked in silence for a while and he’d noticed Xue Yang had withdrawn into his head.

Xue Yang stopped and rested his hips against the bridge wall.

“I’m just wondering how long until you’re cleared to go back on duty” he pondered aloud, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets and looking across at the walling on the other side of the road.

“Probably at my doctor’s appointment next week” Xiao Xingchen told him, and Xue Yang nodded; hiding his disappointment was something life had taught him to be good at.

“Cool. I bet you’re going stir crazy, right?” Xue Yang didn’t have it in him to raise his eyes as he made the comment.

“This last few days haven’t been so bad, there have been one or two distractions”

At the comment Xue Yang did look up at Xiao Xingchen, and with a cocky grin he really didn’t feel; the mainstay of his public persona, he added, “Lets go back to the hotel, and we’ll try distractions three and four”

Xiao Xingchen rolled his eyes.

Xue Yang pushed himself off of the wall, and walked on, “We only have a few days left, right? No time to waste”

“Xue Yang-” Xiao Xingchen caught his arm and held him still, “-what do you think this is? Why do you think I’m here with you right now?”

“How should I know? You were bored while on sick leave? Or horny? You knew I had feelings for you and thought I’d be a cert to put out? I’m sorry if you were expecting me to be experienced, it can’t be as much fun as you were hoping, right? Enthusiasm doesn’t count for as much as skill in sex, I guess” it was obviously time for the talk and it made Xue Yang nervous, so he couldn’t help his response; he babbled.

Xue Yang winced as Xiao Xingchen’s fingers tightened on his arm in response, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“You’re hurting me” he said sharply. It didn’t really hurt, but Xue Yang still felt the need to complain, unsure why Xiao Xingchen was suddenly so angry with him. It sparked his temper, but he tamped it down.

“I want to knock some sense into your thick head, think yourself lucky” Xiao Xingchen responded, but his hand did loosen it’s grip. “If it was for sex do you think for even a second I’d get involved with someone like you?”

Ouch. Fair, but still ouch.

Xue Yang opened his mouth to respond. It was an attitude he was more than used to, but because this time it came from the man he loved, it stung. He had thought Xiao Xingchen might have been starting to see a little beyond the trash, bad boy image the press and the industry painted of him.

Yes, he had a vile temper, yes he had acted out over the years, and yes, every tabloid reported on it, twisted it and manipulated it to make him appear so much worse. But he wasn’t that awful a person to know in real life, was he?

He felt his quicksilver temper flare in response to the proverbial slap across the face Xiao Xingchen had just given him, “No need to keep reminding me what cursed goods I am, thanks. I can open a newspaper at home any day of the week if I need my self-worth lowering any further”

Xiao Xingchen looked surprised, and dropped Xue Yang’s arm, “What? That isn’t what I said” he was about to expand upon that when they both heard the scream. It was automatic; they set off running in the direction the sound had come from.

“Are you stupid?” Xiao Xingchen demanded of the younger man, who kept ahead of him as they ran.

“Yeah, completely” he agreed.

They ran on, and found a woman, who had fallen to the ground. She was struggling with a man who tried to drag her upright. Her purse was thrown to one side.

Xue Yang reacted without thinking, he grabbed the man’s wrist in a death grip, trying to put enough pressure on so that he’d let the woman go.

He did, and swung at Xue Yang, but Xue Yang had paid attention in self-defence classes, he blocked the fist and kicked out at the man’s knee to put him down.

He fell to one knee, shouting at Xue Yang in French, but Xiao Xingchen was there, putting him into an arm lock and signalling Xue Yang, who pulled the toggles out of his hoodie to allow Xiao Xingchen to bind him.

The next few hours where a whirlwind of activity, if that activity was waiting. They waited with the woman for the police and ambulance to arrive, and waited at the police station for the translator (neither their French nor English was fluent enough for more than touristy purposes), then waited while their statements were prepared for them to sign, and waited for their ID checks to be run.

***

It was the early hours of the morning before they made it back to their hotel room, and Xue Yang just wanted to climb into bed and sleep. He began shedding outer clothes and shoes as soon as they made it through the door, only to yelp as he was unexpectedly grabbed and pushed onto the cushions of the sofa.

“Let me repeat again, are you fucking stupid?” the addition of the curse indicated how angry Xiao Xingchen was with him. That he held on to the anger beneath his calm demeanour for the last few hours was quite impressive, really.

“So what, I should have just let him carry on?” Xue Yang looked up at the other with an unhappy frown.

“I was there. Which one of us is trained for this kind of thing, Xue Yang? Honestly, you boggle my brain, I cannot even begin to understand this level of self-destruction, you’re just not going to be happy until you get yourself seriously injured or killed. are you?” he demanded, and Xue Yang’s scowl deepened.

“You’re injured, Xiao Xingchen” he used the same tone as the other had on his name, “And I’m not a child, I’ve taken self-defence lessons, I knew what I was doing”

Xiao Xingchen pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m completely out of ideas on how to get through to you, you just won’t listen. Go to bed, Xue Yang”

What the fuck?

“I’m a damn adult, Xiao Xingchen, stop treating me like I’m your stupid kid. You’re not my dad. You’re not even my bodyguard anymore, remember? We were equals out there on that street”

“None of that changes the fact I’m the one with hand to hand combat training, or that I’m no longer injured. He could have had a knife, you didn’t risk assess.

“If a pilot on a plane passed out and the choice for who to take over was between you or the guy with flight training, would you be dumb enough to jump in front of the controls?” Xiao Xingchen shook his head at Xue Yang’s lack of answer, because of course what Xiao Xingchen said was sensible, and he didn’t really have an argument for it.

“I’m going to shower” Xiao Xingchen left him to it, and Xue Yang sulked, as was his wont.

***

The next morning they were woken by the buzzing of Xue Yang’s mobile on the cabinet.

He made a noise of protest, then froze as he realised Xiao Xingchen was pressed against his back with one arm around his waist. When they had gone to bed earlier that morning they had occupied separate sides, with the proverbial Great Wall between them.

He suddenly didn’t want to disturb the peace and considered ignoring the phone buzzing on the side. But when it stopped, then began ringing again, he realised it was pointless.

“Get it, I’ll order some breakfast” a soft kiss was pressed sleepily against his shoulder-blade, then the other moved away.

He wasn’t particularly feeling very charitable to whoever was on the other end of that call.

He should have guessed it was Jin Guangyao, though. Who else would call him with such urgency when he was on the other side of the world?

“Xue Yang, can’t you keep yourself out of trouble for even a week? You’re five thousand miles away and still causing me a headache”

“What? What did I do now?”

“Your little theatrics saving the woman last night. Someone managed to catch a video and put it online hailing you as a hero. Except now Chinese tabloids are catching hold of it”

“And claiming it’s a set up, or I was the attacker, or some other crazy story to paint me in the worst possible light?”

“Pretty much” Jin Guangyao agreed, “Couldn’t you have kept a low profile?”

“I didn’t exactly plan it out, we just reacted. What would you have wanted me to do? You know I can’t win, if I’d done nothing I’d have been the piece of shit who stood by and let a woman be attacked and did nothing”

There was a click of the tongue from the other, who knew too well that would have been the case.

“If it helps, the French local media are painting you as a hero”

“Maybe I should learn French properly and move my career here” Xue Yang mocked, rolling onto his back. Xiao Xingchen had left the door to the rest of the suite open and he could just see the other from where he lay on the bed as he stood over the hotel’s telephone extension. He was a sight worth watching, elegant, handsome, and as hard as nails when he needed to be.

“Are you listening, Xue Yang?” he was pulled back from his thoughts with a jolt at the other’s sharp question.

“No, what did you say?” he could hear Jin Guangyao’s eye roll from here.

“I said you’re going to be inundated with local press. Do you want me to ask A-Qing to change your flights to earlier ones?”

He bit his lip, and glanced back at Xiao Xingchen, who was still in the living area of the suite to give Xue Yang privacy, checking his own phone.

It would be a shame; he’d looked forward to a few more days of no responsibilities and, honestly, more sex.

They hadn’t spoken about what would happen when they went back to China, whether that was the end, and this was just a holiday fling, or whether they’d try and sneak in the occasional liaison when their schedules allowed in the future.

But really, it would be a nightmare to be trapped here by the media.

“Xue Yang?”

“Yeah, ask her to let me know when the new flights are” he huffed a breath out, and sat up.

“Right. And Xue Yang?” there was a final question in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t need to tell you to keep away from PDA when you get back, do I?”

“No, I know” he hung up, tapped his phone against his chin once, twice, then tossed it onto the bed and got up.

He walked out to the living area, and Xiao Xingchen turned to look at him.

“Everything OK?”

“No, I’ve had to move the flights forward, but never mind that right now, we’re on borrowed time here” he caught Xiao Xingchen’s wrist and tugged him in the direction of the bedroom. “I still owe you distractions three and four. I want you to teach me how to blow you”

***

Xiao Xingchen had been philosophical about their holiday being cut short, of course in his profession he was used to changing schedules of the rich and famous, but whether he was annoyed like Xue Yang was, or not, he hid it well.

Their flights had been booked for first thing the next morning, and now, 12 hours later they were preparing to disembark.

“Are you alright?” Xiao Xingchen asked him, noticing he’d gone quiet the last few hours.

Xue Yang nodded, forced a smile, “I’ll have two bodyguards if the press are there” he made light, “A-Qing says the new security Jin Guangyao found is, and I quote, ‘hot’”

Xiao Xingchen’s hand wrapped around the nape of his neck and squeezed a little, teasingly, “I hope not too hot” he said.

“Aren’t you getting jealous a little too soon?” Xue Yang mocked, “We don’t know what the new security looks like, we only have A-Qing’s opinion so far”

Once they had disembarked they made their way through passport control, baggage claim and customs and were walking through the general arrivals area, when they both spotted A-Qing, who stood next to a giant.

She waved furiously, like they’d ever be able to miss them with Mr Tall and Hot stood next to her.

Well, A-Qing hadn’t been wrong about the new guy in that regard.

“Zichen!” Xiao Xingchen exclaimed in delight as they approached the pair.

#xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #spicy #ooc #Bodyguard AU #Idol!XY #Bodyguard!XXC #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #getting together #but we're not talking about our feelings #bc that would be dumb #Shay's stuff

8 notes · View notes

justfandomwritings · 5 years

Text

Heroes Get Remembered (Part One - Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (This story is also being published on ff.net with minor edits to be a Bucky X OC fic if you prefer that).

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: "Heroes get remembered, but legends never die." Bucky read the words, but he couldn't process them. Hero? Legend? Bucky wasn't either of those things. Those words were reserved for generals, warriors, doctors... a little punk from Brooklyn in stripey tights who didn't know when to give up... and a young nurse who threw herself in a warzone to save the ones she loved.

Notes: So a few years ago, I wrote a rough draft of an introduction to a story that I was calling Heroes Get Remembered. I posted that introduction on fanfiction.net.

Only, I decided rather quickly that I didn’t like the writing style I had used on the story, and I rapidly lost interest after that when I couldn’t think of what to do.

Last week, I revisited the idea (last week for obvious reasons), and I decided to give it another go. I’ve updated the original story I posted on fanfiction.net, but since that doesn’t alert people when a chapter’s been replaced or edited, I thought I would post part one here because I want some honest feedback on whether this was an idea worth revisiting and whether it works this time.

November 2014

Steve Rogers had only cried four times in his life. The first time had been when his mother died. For as long as Steve could remember, she had worked in a nursing ward treating tuberculosis patients. Helping those who couldn't help themselves, she used to say. Even after she contracted the disease, she tried to help those who stood a better chance than herself. It was Bucky who'd been the one to give him the news when she died, and he cried. How long, he couldn't remember; but he remembered picking himself up and putting on a brave face. He remembered walking to the funeral and smiling pleasantly as he shook hands with those who wished him well. He remembered pretending to be fine until eventually he was.

The second time was worse. When Bucky died, or when he thought he'd died. Unlike his mother, Steve had watched Bucky go. He'd been so close. A second more and he could have saved him. An inch longer reach and Bucky would have been fine. His mother died of disease, but Bucky died under His command, in His unit, on His mission, before His very eyes. Steve blamed himself for a very long time. Part of him still did. His crying over Bucky hadn't truly stopped until he plunged into the ice. There was no pretending to be fine when you watched your best friend die, when you were constantly thinking of all the things you could have done to save him.

The third time he'd cried was when they pulled him out of the ice. When they'd thawed him out and introduced him to this new world, this new future, and he realized just how much more he had to lose. He thought he'd lost everything the day he'd lost Bucky, but clearly he'd been wrong. Nick Fury had given him a brief rundown of the last seventy years that lasted all of thirty minutes before dropping him off in an apartment across town. The moment the door closed and he found himself alone, Steve collapsed into sobs. Everyone he'd ever known was dead; everything he'd ever known was gone. He was truly, truly alone. He had nothing and no one.

At least, that's what he'd thought. The fourth time Steve cried was when he realized that was wrong. The night after he'd ripped off the Winter Soldier's mask and seen his old friend. The night after the Winter Soldier had asked him, "Who's Bucky?". It was like losing him all over again. It was like losing everything all over again.

No, it was worse. Before that moment, Steve had no one, nothing. He had no hope, and he was forced to move on. Now, there was something. He was clinging to it like it was his lifeline, and though it may never float he would sink or swim with this one idea. Some part of his past, some part of Bucky, was alive, and he was going to find it or die trying.

"Cap," Sam interrupted the soldier's train of thought, joining the soldier in the living room. His tone was hesitant, probing. "You okay?"

Steve chuckled, still a little dazed. "Do I look okay?"

"No," Sam dropped down into a plush armchair across from Steve and leaned forward on his knees. "You look like hell, which is still probably twice as good as you're feeling."

Steve's gaze fell to the floor. Sam was right; he felt awful. He didn't sleep; he didn't eat. Most days, Steve felt like he didn't really breath either. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion. It was the sheer emotional desperation. Steve was feeling utterly useless, yet he wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop. Even if all hope was lost, Steve had to keep searching. They could have laid Bucky's dead body at his feet, and Steve would have stepped over it with a simple "I thought he was dead once" and kept looking. Bucky never gave up on Steve, and Steve would never give up on Bucky. If he gave up on Bucky, he might as well give up on everything.

"Hey," Sam leaned forward and clapped the Captain firmly on the shoulder. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy. We just have to keep trying."

Sam definitely understood, more than most. He knew the lengths he himself would go to if he found out Riley was still alive. They hadn't even reached that point yet. Let alone what Sam imagined if he added in childhood best friends and his only tie to his real home. A guy like Steve, Sam wouldn't blame him for moving the world to bring his friend home.

"I just…" Steve looked up, eyes so bleary from lack of sleep that he couldn't quite see straight. "I just want to understand. He remembered. I saw it in his eyes. He remembered me. So why is he running from me? Why is he going to…" Steve waved his hand at the map. The map sat on the table in the corner, a permanent fixture of the room since SHIELD had fallen. "To these places. It doesn't make any sense."

They'd both been wondering that. Sam eyed the offending paper suspiciously. It was massive, covering the entire length of the dining table in the Avengers' apartment. Even from the other side of the room, Sam could see every detail, not that he needed the reminder. Steve and Sam had spent hours upon hours pouring over the damn thing trying to find some rhyme or reason to it but getting absolutely nowhere. The map was peppered in tiny little x's: a few each in America, Russia, Europe, one each in Brazil, Mexico, Canada, Egypt. They knew exactly where he'd been, but they had no idea why and no idea where he was going.

"I don't know Steve," Sam sighed and slumped back. "Maybe he's… going back to what he remembers, or maybe looking for something." Neither was a new idea; Sam was really only trying to fill the air. They'd discussed both possibilities before. They discussed every possibility before, and none seemed to fit.

The Hydra files Natasha had leaked gave a detailed timeline of the Winter Soldier's activities, even though they weren't always documented by name. The Soldier had been making and changing history since Steve had gone under the ice. Assassinations, saves, fires, rebellions. He seemed to have a hand in everything that had led up to this moment, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. He had shaped the decades Steve had missed and made the world he saw today.

The x's on the map weren't his missions. There were seemingly too many of those to count. Stark had made a list and tried to show it to Steve, tried to make him see the soldier he was hunting rather than the old friend he wanted to find. Steve was having none of it. Every time someone brought up what the Winter Soldier had done, Steve had walked away. His friend wouldn't do those things, and when he first laid eyes on the Winter Soldier he hadn't seen his friend. He did eventually though. As the Helicarrier fell, he finally saw Bucky, and he was determined to see him again. He only wanted to find him, his last piece of home. He had no interest in the Winter Soldier, no interest in Hydra's ultimate weapon. He had no interest in what the Winter Soldier had done, and he wasn't going to subject himself to thinking about it.

The x's were sightings. All around the world people claimed to see the Winter Soldier, and Steve exhausted himself investigating every last one. A week after the collapse of SHIELD there had been nearly fifty, and eventually he'd managed to confirm four.

He hadn't been sure at first, but when he saw the fifth one he knew what was happening. Four empty Hydra bases, abandoned sometime before SHIELD but Steve couldn't be sure when, and each of them had been trashed. The first was a storage facility, hard copies of documents that were too sensitive to be committed to digital memory. Every drawer had been opened, every file torn apart, every desk ransacked. The second was a recruiting office in a similar state followed by two armories, but the fifth was the worst.

The fifth sighting was what led Steve to confirm the previous four. It had taken him deep into the mountains in Russia. A fully active Hydra lab. Its location was buried deep in the lists Nat had published, but no government had gotten around to checking it out until Steve heard whispers the Soldier had been there. Steve and Sam hopped on one of Tony's jets that night, but by the time they got there he was gone. Everything was gone.

For some reason, the place was entirely destroyed. The site was still smoldering when they arrived; anything that hadn't been personally destroyed had been engulfed in flames. There weren't even remnants of a clue as to what was going on in that building. The charred desks stood ajar. File cabinets were all empty. Every liquid, compound, and vile in the facility had been smashed on the floor and evaporated in the heat. What few computers remained had all had their memory stolen. All the lab's complex machinery was broken down to its most basic parts; nuts and bolts and bits of metal that even Tony Stark couldn't piece together as anything worth destroying.

All that was left to remember it were four bodies scattered outside. They were presumed to be the scientists manning the facility, but there was nothing to identify them by. Their prints were all scared or removed. Their teeth knocked in. Their bodies left to the elements, the snow and wind and animals, so long that their faces were unrecognizable. DNA had been the only hope, and nothing had come close to a match. Whoever they were, they were ghosts, and someone wanted to make sure they stayed that way.

It was then that Steve had realized it was Bucky, or at least the Winter Soldier with whatever was left of his friend. While Steve was on a mission to find him, he was on a mission of his own. To do what? For who? Why? Steve didn't know, but Bucky wasn't just hitting random Hydra facilities. He was up to something, and he didn't want anyone, Shield or Hydra or the Avengers, to know what it was.

Six more sightings followed mirroring the first four, and Steve and Sam were forced to resign themselves to collecting whatever was salvageable to bring back to New York for analysis. Stark had helped, but even then they'd found nothing. Whatever his mission was, Bucky had done a good job of hiding it. Sam and Steve had no idea what to do or where to go.

"Well, well, well, my fine feathered friend," Steve and Sam jolted up as Tony Stark came sauntering into the Avengers' apartments. He was flanked by Natasha and Bruce, who both looked just as unamused as Steve felt. "Close but no cigar."

"You have something?" Sam said it in a tone he only hoped would convey how much he really was not in the mood for the billionaire's usual attitude. He'd just spent the last 36 hours helping Steve loot through an abandoned science lab in the Czech Republic, and all they'd turned up were paper copies of drug inventories and a broken computer. Sam wanted a nap… a twelve-hour nap… and some food.

"Not something," Tony pointed out, whipping out the folder behind his back and waving it like he'd won some kind of prize, "Someone."

"Pardon?" Steve half-heartedly prompted.

The three newcomers wandered over to join them, and Tony dropped the folder in Sam's lap as he passed. "He's not looking for something. He's looking for someone."

"How do you know this?" That finally got the Captain sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

"Never," Tony poked at him, "tell me I can't fix something."

Sam flipped open the folder in his lap and started scanning the title page. "You got this off that old piece of junk we brought in today?"

"Yep," Tony responded smugly. "Just took a little digging. It wasn't actually in that bad of shape. Your best buddy took great care to wipe it of all the important things, but it just made it pretty obvious what I needed to be looking for when I opened it up."

"So he's after someone then," Steve mused and concentrated thinking. "An old Hydra agent? One of their scientists?"

Sam blanched as he turned the page in the file. "Oh, he's not after just anyone…" He set the file down and slid it across to Steve. "And she's definitely not a Hydra agent."

Steve bent down to pick up the file, but before his fingers could even scoop it up his eyes caught the picture in the corner.

Why did the room suddenly get so hot? Was it just him? His hand hung limp an inch above the paper, and it was shaking uncontrollably fast. There was a burning feeling in his chest, and he could practically feel his body rushing with sudden adrenaline.

In the distance, barely registering at the back of Steve's consciousness, he heard Tony asking Sam. "You know her?"

No, he wanted to say, but he couldn't form the word. Sam didn't know her. Steve had thought he never would. She was a world away, a lifetime away.

With trembling fingers, Steve reached into the pocket of his jacket for the picture he carried with him at all times. It was black and white and 70 years old, but Steve remembered every colorful detail like it was yesterday. It was the happiest day of Steve's life.

In the left of the frame was Bucky, the old Bucky. Before the Winter Soldier, before the metal arm, before Hydra, before the war. He was the Bucky girls would throw themselves on their knees in front of begging for a dance. He was the Bucky guys looked on with envy as he raised his fist and bounced around the boxing ring in triumph. Everyone loved Bucky; everyone wanted to be Bucky. Even in the photo, he was cracking everyone up with another joke. The smile on his face back then could light up any room he walked into. He looked happy, healthy. He was the Bucky Steve remembered.

To the right was Steve, pre-serum Steve. He looked like a different person; he'd felt like a different person. He was short and very thin. He looked sickly and pale, but he was laughing, Bucky's doing. Girls didn't fawn over him back then the way they had with Bucky, or Steve after. Guys didn't give him a second glance except to try to beat him into submission. That Steve only had one friend, and yet it was as content as Steve ever remembered being. He had everything he'd ever wanted and needed. He was happy.

There, in the middle, between Bucky and Steve was a girl. She was about the same height as Steve. Her hair fell loose around her face in long curls that he remembered to be blonde. Her arms were thrown haphazardly around both boys, and the photo was taken with her mouth smiling wide at Bucky's joke. Her eyes squinted with humor, but Steve could still see the bright twinkle behind her lashes. She was beautiful, more beautiful than the girls who fell at Bucky's feet or threw a cold shoulder Steve's direction. She was a true diamond in the rough. People flocked to her like moths to a flame. It was as much her heart and her spirit as her looks. She was the purest, kindest soul Steve had met in any generation. When she walked into a room, people turned. Her presence demanded attention, respect. People often questioned if even Bucky, with all his looks and charm and talents, was worthy of a girl like her.

"Who is she then?" Tony asked Sam.

Steve dropped the picture from his hand down next to the one in the file and slid it back to Stark. "He's looking for my sister."

That night was the fifth time Steve Rogers cried.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #avenger imagine #avengers fanfiction #captain america imagine #captain america fanfiction #bucky #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

257 notes · View notes

stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @Rebekahdarian93!

*****

Repentance To Reconciliation

The waiting room to Dr. Riley’s office is all cheap wood paneling and the original chairs from the nineteen-sixties when a real doctor graced the premise. The receptionist shakes her head before taking another drag of her cigarette. A haze develops on her plexiglass window.

“Mr.-” Stiles is used to the hesitation before someone butchers his name. He walks over to the nurse and she flashes the top of the file at him so he can read the name. It’s his.

“Just call me Stiles.”

“Alright, Stiles. We’ll just take your vitals then the doctor will see you.” The nurse is kind as she directs him to sit down. It almost feels like he’s in a real doctor’s office instead of a soul dealer.

“One. Two. Breath Out.” She pokes him with the butterfly needle but nothing comes out. “Hard poke?”

“Something like that.” In all reality, only phlebotomists from the bottom of the barrel programs are desperate enough for such seedy employment. “Try my wrist. Sometimes that works.” She unwraps a new needle.

“One. Two. Deep Breath.” The needle goes in and soon the blood is running through the tube. “Would you like to donate any while we have the needle in you.” Stiles is very queasy about his blood leaving his body and this conversation is not helping.

“Can’t do that. Ex-Boyfriend. Four months ago.” He can only say short sentences without puking.

“Oh. Our little secret? We both know those pesky laws are so outdated.” Stiles is not going to give to an illegal blood bank. (Even if it means an extra hundred bucks.)

“No. I just want the money I came here for.” Her demeanor suddenly changes. She rips the needle out a little to forcefully before applying a bandage making sure it stings.

“The doctor will be with you in a moment. We’ll send this into the database. Expect a call in about a week.” The door slams leaving him alone.

***

Thirty minutes later, Stiles leaves the clinic with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. Now to turn that money over to his landlord because he’s already a week late on rent.

When the technology to find your soulmate first came out it was seen as dignified and a small price to pay for ultimate happiness. That was years ago. As regulations became stricter “soul doctors” went underground. Now the practice is seen as trashy. You give up your identity and a little bit of blood and they give you results as to who your soulmate is and some money. Most people do it for the money, not the promise of happiness. That was Stiles’s reasoning. It’s tough being a college student. Especially after your much more financially stable fiancé breaks up with you.

Stiles puts in the code to the apartment building before taking the stairs two at a time. The heat gave out again. He can feel it in the air. As he unlocks the door to the apartment he shares with his best friend, Scott, he can hear the familiar sounds of his neighbor getting it on through the wall. Scott throws him a blanket and an extra pair of headphones before going back to the book he’s reading. “Thanks, but I’m going to clean up.” He digs out the money putting in on the coffee table before going to take a shower.

Wrapped in the blanket he sits on the counter waiting for the water to warm up as he listens to his ex-fiancé rhythmically fuck another dude. Yes, the annoying neighbor is Stiles’s ex, Derek.

It’s been four months since he called it quits out of the blue. The night before they were watching a movie. Everything seemed great.

***

Derek grips his coffee mug like it’s the only thing grounding him. When Stiles walks into the kitchen he’s none the wiser to his inner turmoil. That is until he sees his fiancés face.

“What’s wrong, Der.”

“I don’t think this is going to work. I think we should break this off.”

The Hello Kitty mug formerly in Stiles hand breaks in two as it hits the hard linoleum floor.

“Shit. Why?” Stiles is only half paying attention as he tries to mop up the mess.

“I don’t want to go through with marrying someone who’s not my soulmate.”

“Soulmates? What about soulmates?”

“We’re not. You’re not my soulmate.”

That’s when it sinks in. This isn’t cold feet.

It’s a breakup.

“I’ll be leaving now. Fuck you I guess.”

***

A month after that Stiles and Scott started renting a new apartment for the next year of college seeming unaware that Derek was soon to move in next door in an attempt to find a new normal. Derek refused to move and Stiles and Scott were too poor to move.

Soon the parade of men started. It felt like practically a man a night. That’s not bad if one isn’t living next to their ex, yet Derek very much is.

Stiles sighs and hops in the shower. In a sick and twisted way, he finds comfort in the sounds because it means familiarity. A pathetic familiarity.

***

A week later Stiles drops by the clinic to get the final results. In exchange for some paperwork saying that they can do absolutely as they please with the part of his soul that they took, he’s given an envelope with the name and address of his soulmate.

When on the bus he opens the package.

Derek Hale

As soon as Stiles’s eyes drop to the name he feels sick. It can’t be the same person.

Sundale Apartments 1563 Cardon St. Apt. 2D It definitely is the same person.

His soulmate lives in the apartment beside him.

His soulmate is his ex.

Fuck.

***

After walking the block from the bus stop to the apartment building Stiles takes the stairs two at a time like every day but tonight seems more urgent in a way. Instead of opening 2E like every other day he knocks on 2D.

No answer.

He knocks again. “Open up, Derek. We need to talk.” Finally, there’s shuffling inside and the bolt lock being undone. When the door opens Derek is clothed in only a pair of sweatpants. A pair that Stiles bought him last year for Christmas.

“You better not have a Grindr hookup in here.” Derek only silently motions around to prove that he’s alone.

Stiles shoves the envelope in his face. “What-”

“Just read it.” Derek looks at all sides of the envelope before pulling the letter out.

“Looks like you finally got low enough on money to sell your soul.”

“Not all of us can have a cushy job and an inheritance from all their dead relatives.” Stiles wants to bite back the last part. “Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. Why are you freaking out about this?”

“Because you lied to me, asshole. You broke off our engagement saying that we weren’t soulmates when we were.”

Derek sighs. “Come in. We need to talk.”

When Derek closes the door behind them Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s home. The thought leaves as quickly as it arrives. They sit down on the couch.

“Explain.” Stiles’s voice is cold and to the point.

“I was scared.”

“You should have talked to me.”

“I didn’t want to burden you.”

“So instead you broke my heart. Noted.”

Their volley of rebuttals could go on for hours.

“Stiles. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that but it’s in the past.” Derek reaches out to take his hand but Stiles pulls back.

“I’m reminded of it every single day. You’re a terror on my life.”

“You think I don’t think the same about you. I have to hide every time I almost bump into you in the mailroom. I only do my laundry at odd hours of the night because I know I won’t see you. Sometimes I miss your cute snoring so I just stay awake listening to you through the wall. You’re the only thing on my mind all the time and I hate it. I hate how I’m still desperately in love with you.”

Stiles doesn’t protest as Derek leans forward capturing his lips. They fall back into how they were before the breakup. Years of practice pushing and pulling comes back to them.

That is until they hear Scott coming home next door. Stiles breaks the kiss.

“Fuck you. You can’t just kiss me and think everything will be cool between us.”

“Then what can I do?”

“I want to get back together, but we need to build this up from scratch. I’ll give you three weeks of us being a couple. We’ll go on three dates. One date a week. No fucking other guys. We’re completely committed to each other and If after those three weeks we realize we’re not in love we’ll never mention this soulmate thing and we’ll go our separate ways. If we realize we do love each other the engagement is back on.”

There’s absolutely no hesitation before Derek says one simple word. “Deal.”

Week One-The Repentance

*** Scott thinks Stiles is an absolute idiot. Just four months before he was supplying his best friend with Ben and Jerry’s after Derek shattered his heart, but now Scott is supposed to just let him hurt Stiles again with zero consequences? Stiles only rebuttal has been, “I’m fine.”

Stiles really is fine in a why-am-i-totally-not-fine kinda way. He should have never made that proposition to Derek but he was lonely and mad, and a little horny. It seemed right at the time. When he gets home from work he decided he’ll just tell Derek that he can’t do this. (Oh, the sweet irony.) That is until he opens up his apartment to put away his bag and see Derek in his kitchen. Stiles keeps enough composure to not drop his overpriced Starbucks on the ground but he’s still practically hyperventilating on the inside.

It’s not just Derek in his apartment or the fact that Scott lounges on the couch seemingly okay with this. It’s also the frilly pink apron Derek is wearing as he bops around listening to Britney Spears. “What are you doing?”

“Making cookies.”

“You never baked while we were together.”

“It’s a new hobby. Come here.” Stiles creeps forward unsure of what’s about to happen. Is this a trick?

Instead of doing anything vile Derek places a chaste kiss on his lips. “How was your day?”

“Terrible. A kid puked on me.” Derek looks him up and down. “I changed my clothes.”

“Oh. That’s what happens sometimes when working with children.” Stiles was going to school to be a preschool teacher. Most people thought it was weird but he enjoyed the little kids. That’s also what led him to get a part-time job at a daycare.

“Yeah, it is.” He takes a cookie from the cooling rack. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

Stiles proceeds to have a freakout while sitting on the ground in the shower for a solid hour.

Derek is being way too nice. He’s not normal.

***

Tonight is the night of their first date. Tuesdays always seemed like a weird day to go on a date but it’s one of the two days Stiles has off work. (The other being Sunday and it’s just weird to go on a date on a Sunday.)

It’s very much weird that Derek is “picking him up” for this date since they live next door to each other. Regardless Stiles pushes that out of his mind as he opens the door to Derek holding red roses. It’s exactly like the beginning to half of Stiles’s wet dreams.

“Thank you.” Stiles takes the bouquet and goes to find something to use as a vase. He settles on a taco bell cup. When he turns around, Derek is behind him. “Oh fuck. I forgot about your sneaking powers.” Derek laughs before kissing him. “We need to get going so we don’t miss our reservation.”

***

The restaurant that Derek has picked is nice. Like 80-dollar-lobster nice. It freaks Stiles out knowing that whatever he eats will be more than his weekly paycheck.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Of course. You deserve the most expensive meal in the world, my love.”

“Okay. If you insist.”

The rest of the night they catch up. Stiles finds out about Derek’s promotion he got about a month ago and Derek congratulates Stiles on passing his midterm in Educational Law. They’ve slipped back into the old way. Other than Derek’s chipper mood both could believe they had never broken up.

***

By Friday Stiles is ready to confront Derek. It’s not that he doesn’t like being treated like royalty but Derek has never been happy for the sake of being happy. He’s loving and kind but you’ll get your coffee with a frown and a kiss on the cheek. Not a full-blown smile.

He seems fake.

Derek had picked him up from work. Stiles breaks the air with a simple question.

“Why are you acting weird.”

“There’s nothing weird about me.”

“You’re not yourself. You’re smiling.”

“I can smile if I want.”

“We dated for three years and you were always grumpy. I expected it and I loved it.”

Derek sighs. “I just wanted you to like me.”

“And you’re plan was to freak the shit out of me. Noted.”

“I’m trying to make up for hurting you. The roses and cookies and Starbucks is just my way of trying to make it up to you.”

“Well, I like all that, but don’t smile. It’s weird.” Derek takes his hand squeezing it.

Week Two-The Familiar

***

Their second date is more simple.

They go to the movies (and make out in the back) then go out for ice cream. While Stiles is intent on licking up all the melted ice cream before it drips on his hand Derek says in his very serious way, “So I have a work event next week and I want to take you as my date.”

“Are you sure about that?” Chocolate trickles down the soggy cone.

“Absolutely. We are dating?”

“Yeah, but two weeks ago you were single then you show up and are like, ‘Hey, meet my fiance. He’s also my soulmate. This totally isn’t weird.’”

“Well, I don’t care. They can judge if they want, but it’s our life.”

The rest of the week passes in sleepy mornings and takeout in the evenings.

hat week was reminiscent of their last week together before. Week Three- Downfall and Reconciliation

***

Stiles suit feels weird and stuffy. He doesn’t even really know what constitutes such formal attire for a business party but he went with it when Derek told him to wear it. While Stiles looks like he’s still an awkward teenager Derek looks like a model with his suit tailored in all the right ways.

Instead of worrying, Stiles takes another champagne flute downing it like a shot. He’s not wine drunk. He’s fully drunk. Derek comes up to him and rubs his back in a gesture of im-so-very-sorry. “We’ll go soon. I just have to talk to someone first.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be right here.” Stiles reaches for another glass of wine when Derek stops him.

“You’ve had enough, babe. When we get home I’ll make you some pancakes to lessen your alcohol poisoning.” Stiles ignores the loving insult opting instead to focus on the fact that pancakes sound really good. Derek kisses his cheek before walking away.

As he’s leaning against a pillar observing the ballroom Stiles notices Derek talking to an equally as handsome man. The man leans in and whispers something in Derek’s ear causing him to crack a smile. Stiles takes a few steps closer out of curiosity.

“Come on Derry. Let’s skip this joint and get up to some fun.”

“Fuck off, Brad. I have a boyfriend. It’s over.”

“It doesn’t have to be. What he doesn’t know-”

“What he doesn’t know is none of your business. There’s two people in my relationship and you’re not one of them.”

“Maybe you should dump him then. You two might have history but we have chemistry.”

“I said no.”

“One night.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Great. You just tell me when.” Stiles is heartbroken as he retreats back so the pair doesn’t know he’s been listening.

Derek walks up to him. “You’re officially free from this boring party. We’ll go now.”

“I’m calling an Uber. You can go home alone.”

“We live right next to each other.” Derek laughs at the absurdity of Stiles’s insistence. “I’m more than capable of driving you home.”

“But do you really want to go home with me or would you prefer Brad.” He spits out the douchebag name like venom.”

“Fucking, god. He’s just some guy I had sex with once or twice.”

“Yet you told him you’d be down for another time.” Stiles pulls out his phone. “Ordering my Uber right now. Leave.”

Derek bites his lip so he doesn’t say anything cruel yet he still does. “I can’t argue with you right now. You order your Uber and go ahead and overdraw your bank account because we both know you don’t have the money.”

“I’ll just sell my soul again. Maybe next time I’ll actually get someone who loves me.”

***

They don’t talk for three days. There’s also no strange Grindr hookups next door.

Everything is just silent.

Then on day four, Derek knocks on the door. Scott has the sense to know that maybe letting him in will end the mess, so he does.

When Derek appears in the doorframe of Stiles’s bedroom he gets a book thrown at him. He concludes that he deserves it.

“Can we talk?”

“Will it get you to go away faster?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll allow it.”

Derek gently perches on the edge of the bed careful as to not touch Stiles. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than that.”

“I know. I’m sorry about what you heard. I swear I was never going to take him up on his offer but it’s easier to let him have the upper hand than to stand there and argue all night.”

“Block him.”

“What? I need his number for work reasons.”

“You both should have thought of that before being horny dicks.” Derek knew that Stiles had a point.

He pulls out his phone and starts thumbing through the contacts. “I want to do it.” Derek hands over his phone and Stiles blocks Brad’s number.

“Are we cool now?”

“No. We never addressed why you broke up with me in the first place.”

“I told you I was scared.”

“That could mean a million things.”

“Fine. I’ve always feared commitment. I’ve lost so many people that I love that I feel I’m a danger. Being around me is basically a death sentence.”

“Everyone dies. It’s better if you have someone to love.”

“Also I feel like marriage is a trap. Not that I’m going to be trapped but that I’m trapping you in a life you’ll hate.”

“I said yes to you for a reason. I wanted to take the risk.”

“I’m just scared of commitment because no one has been committed to me. I’m scared that soulmates are a scam and in twenty years we’ll both be miserable.”

“There’s no one else I want to be miserable with.”

“You’re really not going to say no.”

“I’m really not.”

As they kiss they realize that maybe soulmates are a scam but their love is real.

#Rebekahdarian93 #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

9 notes · View notes

nickblaine · 5 years

Text

script notes part 2 (nick)

as promised here are my notes on the season 2 scripts i read, still with the heavy Nick bias. if you missed it, you can see my season 1 post here!

btw i did not write up the scenes that are already in the “script to screen” clips - like the ambulance scene, etc - since you can already see those for yourself.

uhh the writers get spicy with the love scenes in this season. felt like an erotic novel at times. i actually read the phrase “stroked his soft penis until it was hard” with my own eyes not once but twice... those table reads must’ve been a real treat 👀

June being rough with Nick wasn’t in the script, that was Lizzie. in the script Nick just kisses June and backs her up against a wall before they bone all day.

June told Nick all about the letters and how she got them during her time at the Globe, so he knows what they are when he catches her burning them later. (this wasn’t a cut scene, it’s just mentioned during said burning) also they apparently got really used to being a normal couple during that time, and going back to sneaking around is one of the hardest things June has to adjust to when she returns to the Waterfords.

June seeing Nick in the kitchen for the first time after she was caught was “like watching her life preserver float away”

when Aunt Lydia shows up at the Waterford house and makes comments about the baby’s father while Nick tries super hard to look casual - this is when Fred realizes the baby is actually his

Nick is worried sick about June “becoming Offred” again. when he asks Serena Joy to get June a different kind of doctor, he was acting entirely on his anxiety. this is what sets off Serena Joy’s jealousy aaaand...

Nick’s wedding was entirely Serena Joy’s idea. she just manipulates Fred into setting it in motion.

the wedding really did break Nick. him saying he’ll have a child of his own someday was not a dig at Fred, it was him “showing his belly to the alpha” and disclaiming their child 😭

June still thinks about Nick a lot. the scene where she walks into the kitchen and finds Fred grumpily eating a snack, she actually went in there hoping it was Nick.

Nick told June that he loves her because it’s why he can’t consummate his marriage (besides, of course, being hella grossed out by it) so it wasn’t just a random declaration with bad timing, it was basically “i can’t do this BECAUSE i love you”

during the consummation, good old “hole in the sheet” was not present in the script. also Nick thinks about June and touches himself before the actual act (see my first note 😳) then just pretty much closes his eyes and does it. he feels sick the whole time. i was trying not to scream in the library while reading this

there was nothing fishy about the weird scene with Pryce where Nick requests a transfer. it’s mostly dialogue again. but Nick was described as “shattered” (note that this is a word usually only used to describe June) by the consummation so he was apparently just panicking. this season put heavy emphasis on the breaking of Nick.

also the red center explosion was written from Nick’s perspective. he’s standing with the other drivers and about to light a cigarette when boom.

the loss of Pryce affected Nick because he saw him as “an ally and protector” (i feel like protector is an interesting choice of words)

June and Nick’s kiss at the hospital was mostly dialogue. all the touching and Nick wiping away her tears was Max and Lizzie.

June and Nick holding hands in 2x08 was also unscripted

Nick returns to his apartment stressing hard about June going to Fred’s office (where Serena Joy gets beaten) when Eden jumps him about the curtains

when Eden finds the letters and Nick gets pissed - “Nick assumes the role of patriarch with frightening ease” but he later gets mad at himself for it

the script does not clarify whether or not Eden read the letters so it must be irrelevant. this scene only brings the focus on Nick feeling overwhelmed and trapped in his own house.

when Nick is about to leave for Canada, it says he stays cold with Eden because he has not forgiven himself for scolding her

with all the Eden scenes there is a lot of “Nick doesn’t know what to say; chooses silence” going on

when Nick meets Luke - the only thing different from the “script to screen” clip is that when Nick tells Luke he’s just a driver, he pauses and adds that he lives above the garage with his wife. this is why Luke isn’t suspicious of his relationship with June.

Nick and June’s reunion after Canada was apparently the first time they had touched in months

June was unable to process the news about Luke, and Nick was “hit by the strength of this woman” gosh darniT

when he says “i love you” for the second time, June doesn’t respond because “it’s all too complicated to put into words”

Eden’s breakdown after kissing Isaac is described as a “teenage temper tantrum” and Nick was really sad for her but also 100% over his life at the moment 😬

when Nick is sitting alone flicking his lighter, he’s thinking about how he could’ve become a father that day 😭

Nick tearing up during the June/Hannah reunion was not in the script

Nick holds and comforts June as Hannah is leaving with the Martha, before Hannah runs back to her. i was surprised by this as there were still Guardians present. he also runs to her and drops to his knees in the snow to hold her again after Hannah is gone.

there is no mention of Nick in the script during the birth of their child. June is really worried for him at the beginning of this episode, but that’s it.

in the church when June starts leaking milk at the sound of Holly crying, Nick is “amazed and moved” by it while Fred is “repelled” because he’s trash

Holly is referred to only as Nichole from this point on and i really Hate it

in the Hawaii scene, Nick’s line is actually “the baby is so beautiful” but Max says “our baby” in the final cut 😭 bless you Max

Nick walked away from June’s comfort after Eden’s execution because he knew if he opened up to her he would break down

there was a cut scene where he goes back to his empty apartment and really does break down

when Rita and June are going through Eden’s belongings, there was a part where Nick is bringing the stuff in and gets sad looking at it. June holds his hand and finally gets to comfort him, right in front of Rita who’s just like “we been knew”

the “your girlfriend is a badass” scene was mostly dialogue. again, all the touching was Max and Lizzie.

the scene when Nick holds Holly is described in the script as “a real family portrait” to juxtapose Fred and Serena Joy’s family portrait 😭

June saying “i love you” to Nick was completely genuine, nothing in the script implies otherwise. Nick is described as speechless. this scene is written like a sort of happy ending for Nick and June in season 2, and mirrors the pregnancy scene in season 1.

Nick was not aware that June may escape in the last episode, but when he looked up at the house he had a gut feeling that she was going to do it.

some other random things i took note of:

when June is going through newspaper clippings at the Globe, there’s so much info about Gilead being dumped here. she listens to recordings on a tape and the script describes everything she is finding in detail. i was running out of time at this point so i’ll need to go back and take notes on this scene specifically because it’s super interesting.

during the false labor scene when Fred is entertaining commanders in his office, there is heavy emphasis on Commander Horace having a baby with his wife and the fact that he “hopes to make all commanders like Fred obsolete” so i think this may be revisited in season 3

Serena Joy was absolutely VILE during the 2x10 rape scene. even Fred feels guilt immediately afterwards and can recognize that June is a person. but Serena Joy was only upset that it was more difficult than she expected. June’s crying makes Serena realize she “might actually be a terrible person” which makes her feel weak, and the weakness makes her angry. the script goes on to say that she hates June for fighting back and making it harder than it needed to be. she even holds June down by her neck at some point. remind me again why anyone is stanning for a Serena Joy redemption??

also despite Serena Joy being complete rotten garbage, after June tells Emily “call her Nichole” she actually goes on to say “tell her about Serena, that she loved her” (instead of “tell her i love her”) because the writers apparently had amnesia while making season 2

after reading all these scripts my conclusion is that Nick/June appears to be endgame. it’s definitely NOT a lustful tryst, or a convenient affair. their whole story reads like an epic romance - season 1 especially - and Max and Lizzie added SO much depth and chemistry to their interactions when they didn’t have to. i can tell that the writers put real effort into shaping Nick into the ideal love interest for someone in June’s position, while Luke is more of an afterthought. they wouldn’t do all that if June was meant to give up Nick and go back to Luke in the end.

i think in the final cut of the show they tried to scale back the romantic aspects and put more focus on survival, but it’s still real. and yeah, the main reason i did this is because people are prone to interpreting Nick’s character wrong, even though Max is great at getting these nuances across. he shouldn’t be dismissed as a non-victim just because he happens to be a Guardian.

also, since these posts are picking up steam, if anyone has questions about something specific that i may not have mentioned, i’ll answer while the scripts are still fresh in my mind! i’ll be returning to the library at some point as well, so if there’s something you want me to look up, i will take note.

#the handmaid's tale #nick blaine #june osborne #nick x june #osblaine #tht scripts #tht meta

145 notes · View notes

lively-lizard · 5 years

Text

Bnha Light Novel Volume 1 Translations Chapter 3 Part 3

Soo, it’s been a long time, but I finally have the motivation to continue. Hope ya’ll had a wonderful Christmas this year or just holiday, cause I didn’t celebrate shit, expect for shopping with a good friend.

Well, without wasting any room, let’s continue

“Hello, U.A. High School.”

“Hello? I am Todoroki Shouto’s family from Class 1A, I’m looking for Class A’s supervisor Aizawa- sensei.”

The voice from the receiver sound’s like a young woman, Aizawa keeps searching for Todoroki’s family members in his mind.

(Family...... I remember in Todoroki’s residence......)

“Hello, I am Aizawa, please to meet you. I beg your pardon, but you are......”

“Ah, sorry, I’m his sister.I’m the one who should thanking you for taking care of our Shouto.”(precious Fuyumi)

“This call came in the right time, I just contacted your home.”

“Really? Sorry, I just came home. The teachers meeting was really prolonged ......”

Those familiar words made Aizawa slightly shock.

“Teachers meeting?...... Aah, I remember that you seems to be an elementary school teacher right?”

“Ah, yes...... two teachers having a conversation like this seems weird.”

Even though they’re from the same family, but the sister was different than Todoroki, her voice coming from the phone has a caring and talkative aura.

(But, for a hard to get along and cold type of person probably wouldn’t be an elementary school teacher.) (like you Aizawa)

“What did you call for...... did anything happened to Shouto......?”

“As she thought of what Aizawa just said, her voice became worried.

“No, I’m just informing you about parents day.”

“Is that so.”

Hearing Aizawa’s simplistic answer, she lets out a sigh of relief.

Aizawa thinks back to Todoroki’s first appearance when he first entered high school. Even though he’s strong, but he refuses to involve with anyone. From his looks, when Todoroki was in middle school and elementary school, the school must’ve reported some bad news. (poor boy)

“May I ask who is going to the event on that day?”

“Ah, that would be me. I wanted to actually ask you something about parents day.......”

“Sure.”

“Can I record on that day? I definitely won’t interfere the teacher’s class.”

(Recording? To keep as a memento? That’s pretty caring.)

That rare request made Aizawa puzzled a bit.

“Really sorry, for safety purposes, the school prohibits bringing any recording devices.”

“Is that so......”

Her voice originally sounded regretful, but as Aizawa started to concisely explain, her voice then changes back to her usual voice.

“——and that is all, please to meet you.”

“It’s okay, I’m the one who should be saying that.”

When Aizawa was hanging up the phone, and ticking the name on the list that’s on his hand, he suddenly thought of something.

(What is it’s not for memento——)

Present Mic’s smug voice reached to Aizawa as he was thinking that thought.

“If it was me, I’ll seize the TV station!! Sending my voice as a signal to all the people’s ears on their evening time! And during that time when they’re unconscious, I’ll steal all the jewels and women’s heart~! How’s is it, just like a pro right?”

“Why do want to be a jewel thief, it’s not a comic, and the jewel store’s security is pretty strong wouldn’t it?”

“Under the attack of my voice, even if it’s reinforced glass can break you know? It’ll shatter!” (earrape)

“Sigh, that’s not important, you guys want to hear my bad idea? If you wanna hear it, kneel down and lick my shoe!” (i already felt uncomfortable typing it down, but they seem to be used to it)

“No need, thanks.”

Midnight is showing a coquettish smile, Cementoss then uses a flat answer just his body to answer.

“Cementoss, don’t be so stiff. All right, I’ll make this as an exception and tell you guys! Precisely, I’ll make everyone fall asleep first, then I’ll take that chance to use their weakness to threaten them.” (happy new year to the people that’s at my time zone, cause the fireworks just got launched) (it was already over cause i’m hecking late)

“That’s pretty despicable.”

“Even though it’s not eye- catching, but it feels like the authentic ones are pretty bad too.”

Thirteen shaking his head with antipathy.

“But, what will you do if you can’t find any weakness?”

“If it’s under that kind of condition then....... just make one up is fine! I’ll do something to them while they’re sleeping.”

Hearing Cementoss’s doubt, Midnight then shamelessly throws amorous glances.

“That’s a pretty careless plan.”

“It’s so realistic that it’s scary!”

“Vicious and sexy...... just like a bitch.” (I made this up cause I couldn’t really translate the word)

Looking at the time that Aizawa’s busy calling, the teachers’ conversation turned into a boasting about their quirks to do bad things.

(What the hell are they doing......)

Specially retort is pretty idiotic, Aizawa decides to call finish the rest of the calls. He first uses his eyedrop on his dry eyes, gather back his thoughts and takes up the receiver again.

And yet the heroes doesn’t know his thoughts, as they keep chatting on.

“But, why do you guys feel so happy when you’re talking about bad stuff? I feel like I’ve done something that I shouldn’t have, I feel painful deep inside my body.

“Human’s vile spawn.”

“Can’t do, we’re heroes you know!”

“Thirteen, don’t think about it, it’s just a conversation after all! It’s just a delusion of 100% fresh orange juice!”

“Present Mic pats Thirteen’s shoulder with a frivolous tone, Cementoss at his side was a bit curious and opened his mouth:

“Now that we think about it, we wanted to be heroes since we were young, and that’s pretty upright, hard to say that we naturally suppressed ourselves inside, warning ourselves to never do bad things.”

“Unsatisfied wishes is the perfect spices for achieving happiness, but accumulating too much is a no no! Letting yourself breathe out once for a while is needed. If you want, I can help you to relax. It’s really easy? Just throw away that heavy burden that is your self- esteem, and become my slave!”

“No need.”

Cementoss indifferently continues to smile.

“People like us thinking how to do bad things, doesn’t really count as a bad thing, it helps us to know villain’s thoughts.

“That makes sense.”

Present Mic suddenly says “Oh yeah!” Then say:

“If we’re talking about letting ourselves to breathe, you guys used your quirks to do pranks before right? Most people do that alright!”

“I never did any pranks.”

Thirteen shakes his head.

(That’s not possible right?)

The conversation slips in by accident, and it made Aizawa thinks, while still calling. At that time, Present Mic yells in surprise:

“That can’t be!! You go as far as be methodical since you were born! That’s just the embodiment of buddha!” (the original meaning of the word is theory of the original goodness of human nature, but i don’t know how to put it in)

(I surprisingly had the same thought as that guy......)

“......Ah, sorry, so that day——”

Even though Aizawa is having a straight face, he still uses the same tone as usual to continue explaining.

“Then did Present Mic- sensei did any pranks before?”

As Thirteen asked, Present Mic slightly thought for a while, then pridefully answers:

“When it was recess time, I did a rap contest beside my sleepy friend’s ear or something like that!” (earrape x2)

“Suddenly woke up Present Mic’s voice, feels like it’s not good for the heart.”

“And while that guy is sleeping, I’ll use 100% effect of a live and send over a hundred songs non- stop something like that!” (earrape x3)

“Being your friend sure is pitiful~”

“That guy must be me right.”

Hearing those past events that couldn’t slip through, Aizawa can’t help but put down the receiver, and dejectedly speaks in a low voice.

“Oh——yeah, MY FRIEND! Sorry sorry, just flushed those past events down to the drain!”

“Are the things you did were shit?” (the original one didn’t sound mean enough, so i added a bit of flavor text)

Aizawa was thinking that if it’s like that, then just let the memories go down the drain as well. He ignores his class,ate who’s having sympathy in his eyes, his voice sounded not caring at all again, as he continues to contact the students’ parents.

“......Hello, Miss Midoriya, pardon me. The signal was cut off a bit...... as I was saying......”

Present Mic who is faster than Aizawa to flush down his faults down continues to say:

“Oh yeah, did Midnight ever did some pranks before? It’s not possible for you to do 18+ stuff since back then right!?

“If it’s obscene stories then there’s no need.”

“Don’t be so mean, I’m was a cute little girl back then! But, if we’re talking about pranks, when me and my first boyfriend played house together, we played a doctor’s game”

“Ooh, using the examine tool to hear different places like that!?”

Seeing that Present Mic obviously got hooked by it and got exited, Midnight gave him a coquettish smile.

“Feel free to imagine! However, the doctor’s play got more realistic, it turn into a surgery play afterwards.......”

“Eh? Where did you did that surgery......?”

The expressive male heroes turned more stiff.

“Uhhehe, I’ll let everybody Imagine. It. By. Yourself. Maybe because of the surgery? That guy really hate girls after that, and walks down another path......” (oof, press f for that guy)

“What did you do to there!? What the heck did you do!”

Present Mic yells as he guards the thing that’s between his legs. As Midnight flashes back to the distant memory, she chuckles a bit, as she smiles.“Maybe the stimulation was a bit too much......”

“Don’t you show such a happy face while thinking back that memory! Thirteen also feels the same way right!?”

“......this doesn’t even relate to quirks, that’s just purely a prank right?”

“Oh my, it seems so! Don’t need to linger on me, tell me what kind of pranks you guys did before! Ectoplasm did too right?”

Being asked by Midnight like that, Ectoplasm opens his mouth to answer:

“I never used my quirk to do pranks...... but I just regret that one thing I did in my whole life......”

The heroes were all attracted by Ectoplasm’s extremely heavy atmosphere.“A confession on sins!? This makes it even more exciting——! If you want, I can diligently help you to censor it!”

“The celibacy Ectoplasm did something wrong, It’s hard to imagine!” (celibacy’s meaning is state of living unmarried, especially for religious reasons)

“That’s right, I want to hear it!”

“.......”

Ectoplasm uses his own rights to keep silent about it.

“Hey hey, you said it yourself, you can’t do that! Don’t just leave the audience be! HOLD ON ME!”

“I hope you guys can forget about it.”

Seeing as the teachers won’t let him off the hook that easily, Ectoplasm can’t help but regrets slipping those words out. Cementoss said to Ectoplasm who is full of regrets:

“Don’t need to force yourself, but saying things out sometimes, maybe you’ll feel better? As teachers, we just want to help you.

”Seeing Cementoss’s small eyes full of concern, Ectoplasm was moved by it.

“——that happened when I was in elementary school.”

As Ectoplasm was talking about his past, Present Mic and the the others’ eyes began to light up, holding their breathe in excitement.

(Never thought it was that easy that easy to make him talk about it......)

“......Ah, hello, is this Mineta’s residence? I’m Minoru- san’s teacher Aizawa...... yes, thank you for your care. I’m calling today is to tell you about parents day——”

Aizawa disses them during the space between two calls, as he makes sure to finish his job. Ectoplasm completely doesn’t know that Aizawa was dissing him internally, as he opens that seems to be tight, but dishonest mouth to say:

“One morning, my body was constantly on my bedding for a long time, as time moves fast as light......”

“Eh? What does that mean?”

Cementoss answers the confused Present Mic:“He seems to be talking about being overslept.”

“I felt despair. But I haven’t gave up, I ran at full speed to the school...... However, the bell ruthlessly rings in front of me, I then used my clone to appear at the classroom......”

“...... So you’re saying, you used your clone to go to school because you were late right?”“Aah, even though it was for the perfect attendance award, but, but I feel like my sins are too deep......”

Ectoplasm’s confession made the heroes look at each other, as they disappointingly let out their sighs.

“That’s just disappointing! You go as far as to exploit that, isn’t that just shameless! And it’s the perfect attendance award too!”

“Because you said this was sin, it made me imagine things that are a lot more worse. Like a life and death situation, some emotional ties mingling love and hate or something like that.”

“It’s because everybody was having their own expectations, I only narrated the truth.”

Maybe because it was everybody’s reaction affected their mood, Ectoplasm seems slightly snubbed and sips his tea. Hearing Ectoplasm’s story, Thirteen seems to be thinking back something and say:

“If it’s this kind of story, I did it before too. Even though it’s a bit embarrassing, but I once used my black hole to suck up my wet futon, to get rid of evidence .......”

“You sure do know how to use your quirk! I wish to have that kind of power too——!”

“Nah, I still got caught in the end, got scolded a lot afterwards.”

Thirteen shyly scratches his helmet, Cementoss then say to him:“Wetting the bed huh? That’ really makes people smile when they think about it.”

“What about Cementoss? Ever did any pranks before?”

“Me? Let me think...... mostly when I was nearly caught during hide and seek, I made a wall, and did some modifications to it—— I can only say it until here.”

Cementoss’s calm smile made the other heroes stiffen.

“...... are there parts you can’t say.....?”

“Don’t ask, it’s scary! My grandfather once said, the worst persons are usually the most normal ones!!”

“But you wanted me to confess my secret first, and you didn’t truthfully say it, that’s just mean.”

“I want to hear it too. Knowing other’s secrets, that’s just makes me want to expose it.”

Thirteen and Present Mic were so scared that they started to overelaborate, while Ectoplasmm and Midnight got closer to Cementoss.

Cementoss then smiled to the teachers.

“Don’t take it seriously, I’m just joking.”

“......Eh, it’s just a joke~ Don’t scare us~”

“A joke that doesn’t make people laugh, doesn’t count as a joke.”

“Cementoss’s jokes doesn’t seems like it’s good for the heart——!“

“Sorry about that, say hi to your grandfather for me.”

“Ah, you’re holding a grudge!”

“Let it flow, let it flow! And flush it down the drain——!”

(This guy’s drain get’s clogged pretty fast won’t it?)

“—— Well then, that is all. Please to meet you.”

As Aizawa hangs up the phone, he ticks yaoyoruzu’s name on the paper that’s on his hand. As a result, the job of contacting the parents is done.

Maybe it was the fatigue and the accomplishment of the job done, Aizawa let’s out his breathe. The others didn’t even batted an eyelash at him, as they continue their chit- chat.

(But, they sure are pretty talkative, they can talk until there’s no end on this boring kind of subject......)

Aizawa stares at bewilderment at the teachers’ as they discuss.

“However, if we use our quirks together, perhaps we can become a strong villain in a certain degree, wouldn’t it!? We can do whatever bad things whenever , wherever we want!”

At the same time that Present Mic yells loudly, a sound came from a low place.

Well, that is done, took quite some time to actually finish typing it, it’s really interesting to see the heroes old self but it seems pretty enjoyable, but new year is over it seems and school is already starting for me. So there will be no translations until October or November, or just in the holidays I hope, if I have the motivation. Nonetheless, Happy New Year anyway!Check out my art if you guys are interested!

this is part 3.

please tell me if there are any errors, i’ll correct them if i have time

#bnha #bnha light novel #bnha light novel translations #bnha light novels #aizawa shouta #hizashi yamada #kayama nemuri #bnha eraser head #bnha present mic #bnha thirteen #bnha cementoss #bnha ectoplasm #ishiyama ken #boku no hero academia

80 notes · View notes

thenarator · 6 years

Text

ok so it’s not the temeraire madoka au i asked you guys about but i wrote some temeraire modern-au, reincarnation-au, soulmates-au stuff and i thought i’d see what you thought of it.

“Any monkey can walk upright; just because they can assume a human form does not mean they deserve human-”

Iskierka closed the laptop with a click, cutting off the recording of the opposition’s political rally they had been watching, and for this Temeraire was grateful. He had not realized, until he saw the care with which she handled the screen, how close he had come to slamming it down. Watching Arthur Lords’ speeches always riled him up, but he had even less patience for it tonight. He sat back in his desk chair and took a deep, steadying breath, trying to get himself under control.

“Vile man,” Iskierka spat.

“He is rather, isn’t he,” Temeraire said. It wasn’t a question.

Iskierka hummed in agreement, flipping her long red hair over one slim shoulder. She was perched on the edge of the large mahogany desk in Temeraire’s study, a place she had long established as her own no matter how many comfortable chairs Temeraire packed into the room. She preferred to position herself as inconveniently as possible for everyone involved, the better to make everyone pay attention to her. He had long since stopped putting things in her way.

“Two hundred years I’ve been fighting for our rights,” Temeraire continued heatedly, “and two hundred years we’ve been proving that we can be valuable to society. He acts as though dragons being anything besides organic war machines is some desperately untried scheme that will assuredly end in chaos.”

“He will make no progress on that front,” Iskierka assured him offhandedly. “You and I alone have too much of a stranglehold on the business world; if the government tried to take us down, they’d bring down England’s economy with us.”

“He can still make life difficult for us,” Temeraire argued. “According to the latest polls he’s got 27% of the British populace believing that reincarnation is a myth, and the dragon-captain bond is manufactured in order for dragons to steal human children.”

Iskierka huffed dismissively, not even liking to dignify such a position with a response. She, like Temeraire, had funded several studies that proved, unequivocally, what all dragons already knew: a dragon could always tell when their captain had been reincarnated, and with only a small amount of exposure to people, places and things they had known in their previous incarnations captains could remember the details of their pasts lives with amazing accuracy. Of course, these studies had been accused of being doctored to suit the needs of those funding them, so even though the majority of the public believed them, they did the dragons very little legal good.

There were no studies proving that the opposing position, that these memories were falsely implanted by dragons who had made themselves parts of their young captains’ lives, had any merit whatsoever, but that did the dragons very little legal good either.

Temeraire knew that dragon rights had made great strides in the last two hundred years. They were citizens, with the right to vote, attend universities, own property and hold positions in government. Some had opted to remain in the military, even after the advent of the aeroplane, but many had chosen to adopt other professions and the vast majority had accumulated significant wealth over the last two centuries. Humans had, at first, balked at the idea that reincarnation was a reality, but now it was generally considered a high honor to have a family member who was a reincarnated captain, and especially lucky for the parents of such a child who now did not have to worry about their future. Many dragons were able to simply gain custody of their infant captains straight away, or insert themselves into the captain’s family while they were young.

There were still, however, people like Arthur Lords. People who believed dragons were devils, sent to subjugate humanity with the advantage of immortality and the ability to shapeshift between human and dragon form. People who believed dragons had to be subjugated themselves, for the preservation of the humans who rightfully deserved the position of power. People who could gain little traction in denying dragons their rights, and so instead made nuisances of themselves by advocating for “parents’ rights,” the right of those to whom reincarnated captains were born to deny them their birthright. People who advocated for the chance to keep the captain away from their dragon, even going so far as to lie to them through childhood and even, if certain laws were passed, well into adulthood.

It did not help matters that the most recent reincarnation of Laurence, Temeraire’s beloved captain and historically another great proponent of dragon rights, was Arthur Lords’ only son.

“He is a wretched man,” was all Temeraire said. He felt that if he went any further than that he might actually do something, and that would not end well.

“You’ll find no arguments here,” Iskierka said dryly. “After he hired that lawyer to help my Granby’s new parents get a restraining order against me, and a gag order so I could not even tell the press, so he could not even hear about me through word of mouth-”

Temeraire sighed loudly, cutting her off. He did not feel up to listening to her complain about her situation with Granby’s latest reincarnation. He knew he ought to have more sympathy for her, but he did not have the energy tonight.

“What’s the matter with you?” Iskierka sniffed. “Usually you’re all too happy to talk about the sins of those anti-dragon zealots.”

Temeraire looked away. “It is Laurence,” he said quietly. “He is . . . close, tonight. His father must have taken him into the city for some reason, but he has been so far away for so long that he feels as though he is on the property.”

Iskierka opened her mouth, a haughty expression on her face for some unfathomable reason, when suddenly the intercom on Temeraire’s desk crackled to life.

“Mr. Tien,” came the voice of Temeraire’s personal assistant Natalie, “there’s been a disturbance near the south gate. Security has asked us to stay inside until they apprehend the intruder.”

Temeraire’s heart skipped a beat. He looked up at Iskierka, to a see a look of surprised speculation on her face. Clearly the thought that had occurred to Temeraire, the one making his skin prickle and his blood race, had occurred to her as well.

“Tell security I will see to it myself,” Temeraire replied, then leaped from his chair. He could feel Iskierka’s presence behind him as he moved through the mansion at breakneck speed. Dimly he heard Natalie calling after him but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

It probably wasn’t. In all likelihood it was not. But what if it might be? What if it was?

It seemed an eternity and no time at all passed between the revelation and reaching the south gate, but Temeraire immediately saw the disturbance Natalie had been speaking of. Two of his security team, burly men in kevlar, were clutching at a small boy of maybe twelve years of age. His blond hair flopped wildly side to side as he struggled, and his blue eyes shone in the dark.

“Let him go!” Temeraire croaked. He was surprised by how his voice sounded, rough as though from disuse.

The two men immediately jumped apart, leaving the young boy staggering to keep his feet. He stumbled a few steps forward, toward Temeraire, then paused. He looked pale and angry, but when he caught sight of Temeraire his expression shifted into one of confusion and uncertainty. Despite this, Temeraire thought he spied a glimmer of hope in the boy’s eyes.

“Laurence?” Temeraire asked. He did not need to ask. He knew perfectly well it was Laurence.

Laurence continued to stare at him, unmoving.

“No,” Temeraire shook his head, “it’s Alex, isn’t it? In this lifetime? Your name is Alex.”

Laurence hesitated a moment, then said, “Are you Xiang Tien?”

Temeraire smiled. “Properly my Chinese name is Lung Tien Xiang, but Xiang Tien is the name I use in England. You, however, may call me Temeraire.”

“So it’s true,” Laurence said, wonderingly. “I am . . . we are . . .”

“Yes,” Temeraire nodded slowly. He did not know how Laurence had found out, having been kept famously isolated from the highly public custody battle, but it was plain that he had somehow learned of their bond against his father’s wishes. “We are.”

Laurence took a halting step forward. Immediately Temeraire dropped to his knees, arms outspread to receive him. He had never wanted to hold Laurence more in his life, even when the only form his could assume was that of a 20 ton dragon. Twelve years of separation was long enough. But he would not force it.

“Come to me,” he begged. “Dear Laurence, please, come to me.”

Laurence came. Stumbling at first, his quick strides ate up the distance between them and then he was throwing himself into Temeraire’s arms. Temeraire grasped him tightly, holding him as close as he dared. He did not want to frighten Laurence, deprived as he had been of all reminders of his past lives, but he needed the contact so very much. He could feel his strength returning, feel the weakness that had come with Laurence’s long absence ebbing away. Suddenly he felt like he could take off and fly without even shifting into a form with wings.

Eventually Laurence began to squirm, and Temeraire let him go. He knew he had missed the Rapid Eye Movement that had come with the first of Laurence’s memories; Iskierka had probably seen it, standing behind him, but that was unimportant. What was important was what came next. Would Laurence remember the words? The ones they had said to each other in each and every one of Laurence’s lifetimes so far?

“I will not make you stay,” Temeraire said carefully, looking deep into Laurence’s clear blue eyes.

Laurence smiled, eyes bright and oh so achingly familiar. “No, my dear,” he said, reaching out to touch Temeraire’s face, “I would rather have you than any ship in the Navy.”

“Oh Laurence!” Temeraire cried, tugging the little boy back into his embrace. He laughed against Laurence’s hair, feeling more than hearing Laurence’s answering laugh against his skin. He felt Laurence’s skinny arms clutching at him, and he stood, lifting his captain up and spinning him around.

“Temeraire,” Laurence said, still laughing slightly, “Temeraire put me down!”

“No,” Temeraire argued, “I do not want to! I have only just gotten you back, I will carry you around for a few days yet, I think.”

With his renewed strength he tossed Laurence into the air a little, then quickly scooped him out of his fall so that one of his arms was beneath Laurence’s knees and the other supporting his back. He felt lighter than air, like he could carry the boy in his arms around for a week without getting tired, even in this shape. He had Laurence back. Finally.

“Temeraire!” Laurence laughed, louder now. “Temeraire, you can’t-”

“I’m very sure I can,” Temeraire insisted, and Laurence put his arms around Temeraire neck, still laughing.

“Ahem,” said a testy voice behind Temeraire, making him turn with Laurence still in his arms. Iskierka was still standing a little ways back, tapping her foot on the garden path. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Unless Mr. Lords is hiding just outside that gate, ready to sign over custody, then Alexander Lords has run away from home and Xiang Tien is in violation of his restraining order.”

“He didn’t violate it!” protested Laurence, “I came to him!”

“I do not think the law will see it that way, if your father has anything to say about it,” Iskierka pointed out.

Immediately Temeraire’s brain went into overdrive. He could not give Laurence back. Not now, not ever. He could not let Laurence stay in the mansion either; that would surely be the first place the police would look for him, and if he did stay he would have to be kept a secret until he was 18 at the very least. He would not be able to go outside. That would not do. They could not stay here then, and nowhere in England would be any better. Temeraire was too high profile, his movements too closely watched. Anywhere he took Laurence they would be found.

Anywhere in England.

“Natalie,” Temeraire said sharply, as she came panting down the garden path to come up short behind Iskierka, “have the jet prepped and get a car outside to take us to the airstrip.”

“When sir?” Natalie said, straightening and pulling out her phone.

“Now,” Temeraire said. He began walking quickly back toward the house, Laurence still clutched in his arms and Iskierka and Natalie trailing after him.

“What will the destination for the jet be?” Natalie asked, already dialing. “And how many passengers?”

“Two,” said Temeraire, holding Laurence a little tighter. “And we are going to China.”

“China?” Laurence demanded, squirming in Temeraire’s grip. “No seriously, put me down. We can’t go to China.”

“I’m very sure we can,” Temeraire informed him, very reluctantly setting Laurence back on his feet. He immediately seized his hand and began dragging him back towards the house.

“But why?” Laurence asked, letting himself be dragged. “What good will that do?”

“In China the law is different,” Temeraire said. “It is considered best for everyone if dragons and their companions are not kept separated, once they are known to each other, so no one will try and take you away. I have citizenship there and once I establish that you are my captain you will too.”

“But,” Laurence protested, “we can’t just leave England. What about my family?”

“Your family tried to keep you from me,” Temeraire said disdainfully. “I do not at all see why they should enter into my calculations.”

They reached the house, and Temeraire towed Laurence into the study. With difficulty he forced himself to let go of Laurence’s hand and begin rummaging around for the things he would need. His laptop went into his briefcase, along with two flash drives containing the details no one but himself knew about the running of his company and his long term plans for dragon rights in England. The safe behind a painting of himself and Laurence in their first lifetime together held the copy of Laurence’s passport and birth certificate he had clandestinely acquired years ago, as well as his own passport and the shining golden and ruby collar that marked him as a Celestial in human form. No one in China would look twice at their passports once they saw him wearing that.

“But we’ll never make it out of the country,” Laurence continued as Temeraire fastened the collar around his own neck. “They’ll stop us, won’t they?”

“No one knows you are here yet,” Temeraire pointed out, “and you may rely upon the discretion of my staff. We will leave by private jet, and we will be in French airspace within the hour. Once we are out of England no one will be inclined to stop us. Even after 200 years, we are still quite well liked in most of Eurasia.”

Laurence colored a little, no doubt embarrassed by being given credit for something he’d done in a past life. Some things never changed. With a sudden burst of fondness Temeraire knelt before him and kissed his forehead, cradling the back of Laurence’s head in his hand.

“You do wish to stay with me, do you not?” Temeraire asked urgently, once he had drawn back. “They were not just our words, earlier. I will not make you stay if you wish to return to your father.”

“No,” Laurence shook his head forcefully. “I don’t want to go back. I want to stay with you. I’m starting to remember, and to remember that I remembered before. I had this imaginary friend when I was a child; it was a dragon, a big black dragon, like you. My father punished me for it.”

Temeraire fought the urge to snarl. It was common, among reincarnated captains who were not immediately reunited with their dragons, to have their residual memories manifest as pretend-play. That Laurence had been punished for this perfectly natural phenomenon made Temeraire’s blood boil.

“He will not punish you anymore,” Temeraire said, straightening. “I will not allow it. Do you have any other objections?”

“No,” Laurence shook his head. He looked perfectly sure of himself.

“Then we are going,” Temeraire said, and took Laurence’s hand once again.

The nondescript black car picked Laurence and Temeraire up just outside the door to the mansion, well within the property line and away from prying eyes. The heavily tinted windows protected them from view, but Temeraire still held Laurence close to his side, afraid that the glare of a streetlamp might allow someone to see him if he sat upright. Laurence bore it without complaint, resting his head against Temeraire.

“What’s China like?” Laurence asked, cuddling closer to Temeraire’s side.

Temeraire smiled, stroking Laurence’s hair. “What do you remember of it?”

Laurence frowned. “I think my memories are mostly of my first lifetime,” he admitted. “I can feel that there are more recent ones, but the impression I’m getting is from earlier.”

“And what is that impression?” Temeraire wondered.

Laurence wrinkled his nose. “I remember feeling embarrassed,” he admitted.

Temeraire laughed softly. “It is always a little embarrassing, when you do not know a language well.”

“I don’t know any Chinese!” Laurence realized, nearly sitting bolt upright.

“You do,” Temeraire pulled him back down, “you just don’t remember that you do. It will come back to you, I promise.”

They spent the rest of the ride practicing Chinese. While in contact with Temeraire Laurence’s memory returned more easily, and he had used Chinese in all of his previous lives. He remembered most clearly the archaic forms of address to the Emperor and the crown prince, useless now but encouragingly accurate. Temeraire reminded him of some more modern greetings and Laurence picked them up with ease. It soothed Temeraire’s nerves, having Laurence so close and watching him remember so well, and it made the perilous car ride pass more swiftly.

Laurence was just mastering the pronunciation of a few newer Chinese words when abruptly a police siren erupted behind them. Temeraire’s heart nearly stopped, and Laurence jerked in his seat, then craned his head around to look out the back window. Immediately Temeraire pulled him back and pushed his head down.

“Keep driving,” he instructed his chauffer, a steady man named Oliver who had been with him nearly four years.

“They want us to pull over sir,” came the reply.

“I’m aware,” Temeraire said tesitly. “Lose them.”

Not for nothing had Temeraire hand picked every member of his personal staff. Without further instruction Oliver made a hairpin turn down a side street. The police car whizzed past the road they had taken, not being fast enough to make the turn, but Temeraire knew there would be more.

“How did they know I was with you?” Laurence demanded. “How did they find us?”

“Finding you gone your father will have assumed I took you,” Temeraire told him, “or that you came to me. I imagine we left the house just before the police arrived. Someone must have seen the car leaving.”

Laurence opened his mouth to reply, but another sharp turn brought them out onto a main road again, the police car nowhere in sight.

“Do not worry,” Temeraire told him quietly, “we are nearly there.”

Once they had reached the private airstrip Temeraire shared with several other notable dragons, including Iskierka and her seven vintage planes, the police sirens were audible in the distance once more. Cursing under his breath Temeraire realized they must have guessed his plan. Somewhere above them a helicopter whirred in the dark.

“C’mon!” Laurence slid out of the car first, Temeraire close behind him. “We’ve got to hurry!”

The sleek black jet sat ready on the runway, like a dragon preparing to leap aloft. The door was open, the build-in set of stairs leading down to the tarmac. As Temeraire ushered Laurence up them, one hand on his back, a police car screeched into view.

“Halt!” cried a deep voice behind them, amplified by a megaphone, but Temeraire merely turned and hissed.

Once he and Laurence were inside he crossed to his usual seat and pressed the button to connect him to the cockpit.

“We are ready,” he said urgently, “put up the stairs and go!”

The policeman was still yelling over the megaphone as the hatch closed, but once the door was sealed there was silence. Laurence buckled himself into the seat across from Temeraire, looking pale but determined. Temeraire watched him, hating the police, hating Arthur Lords for putting them in this position.

“Do not be afraid,” Temeraire consoled gently, “we will-”

“Sir,” came the pilot’s voice from the speaker over Temeraire’s head. “We can’t take off.”

“Ignore the helicopter,” Temeraire instructed. “It will get out of the way.”

“It’s not that sir,” said the pilot evenly. “There’s someone on the runway. He’s not in uniform, he looks to be in a suit.”

Temeraire growled, realizing immediately who it was. Arthur Lords had not obstructed him enough; now he was going to physically put himself in their way.

“I don’t care!” Temeraire snarled. “Run him down if you have to, just get us in the air!”

“Wait!” Laurence cried, his eyes wide and distressed.

“Belay that,” Temeraire amended immediately, then let go of the button that activated the speaker. “Laurence, he will take you from me if we do not-”

“I know,” said Laurence, and his expression was pained. “You still can’t do it. You can’t become a murderer over me.”

“I have killed before,” Temeraire told him, “many men in battle, and men who tried to take you away before.”

“That’s one thing,” Laurence shook his head, “this is another. If you do this, here, now, you’ll be a murderer in the eyes of the law. Your political career will be over.”

“Humans have short memories,” Temeraire insisted. “By the time I must return her for your next incarnation they will have forgotten-”

“And what will dragon rights look like in the meantime?” Laurence demanded. “People will use this incident against your cause. All the dragons in Britain will suffer!”

Laurence shook his head, staring at Temeraire with pain and longing in his eyes.

“I won’t be the cause of your ruin, or the ruin of what you’ve achieved. I can’t, Temeraire.”

Involuntarily Temeraire let out a long, low keen. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to take Laurence and fly away, to gather him in and keep him close. To keep him safe. But Laurence did not want to be kept safe. He wanted to protect Temeraire, as he always had. He wanted to protect all of dragon kind, and he was willing to suffer for it. That kind of devotion was humbling, and Temeraire felt suddenly smaller than his human shape in the face of Laurence’s consideration.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, knowing perfectly well the answer would not change.

Laurence looked aside sadly, then back at Temeraire. “I’m sure.”

Temeraire hung his head and pressed the button to activate the speaker. “Turn off the engine and open the door. We are staying.”

#temeraire #william laurence #modern au #soulmates au #reincarnation au

42 notes · View notes

shcotingstar · 6 years

Text

what’s up, i’m blossom, i go by any pronouns, and am currently in the est timezone ! i got benched for a week today, but at least soon i get to get a little bit closer to my goal of taking a shot in every country, so there’s that ! i’m really not that interesting or funny, but sometimes i say dumb things & people think i’m joking ! that’s all there’s to know about me. FIND HER PINTEREST HERE.

moving to the main attraction: andy ! the world’s piss poor job of a psychic. i’m extremely excited for her, and hope you come to be, too ! check under the cut for a short bio & some wanted connections.

( LANA CONDOR, GENDERFLUID, SHE/HE/THEY ) — ✧ that looks like ANDROMEDA ISLEY-QUINZEL! they’re the TWENTY-ONE-YEAR-OLD CHILD of PAMELA ISLEY & HARLEEN QUINZEL (ADOPTED). [ they are also an UNDERGRAD at paragon. ] i hear they’re DEBONAIR & GREGARIOUS, but tend to be CALLOUS & RANCOROUS. their file says that their power is PRECOGNITION.

tw : ( parental ) death, ( family ) abuse, blood ment, teen pregnancy, dissociation ( sort of ), mentions of depression

born on a blistering gotham day, andromeda was the child of a sixteen-year-old heiress with a long string of bad choices behind her. she was seen as an inconvenience, a stain on their family’s spotless reputation.

she was very barely tolerated in her own home. any fraction of disobedience or insolence was seen as ungratefulness. she was constantly having her mother’s actions thrown against her, even at such a young age.

but andy didn’t let it break her spirit. she worked harder, trying to reach a goal she couldn’t even see. she was put into ballet when she was only four-years-old, a sort of penance.

she was not good at it — she excelled. by the time she was seven, ballet was the only thing she did that got her the attention she so desperately craved. but between practices, when she knew she wasn’t going to get caught ( because andromeda was armed with the knowledge that it would definitely get torn from her perfectly painted nails ), she would draw.

pencils and markers and anything that she could get her hands on. she’d create collages sometimes, or flowers, men made of hearts & women made of smoke. she made universes with strokes of a brush.

it’s then it happens. she’s seven & has a rehearsal in a few days and that’s all that matters in her life. not school, nor health, nor sleep. just practice. a part of her knows this is wrong. that she’s a kid, that she’s not supposed to be working this hard for a dream that’s starting to seem unreal, but she ignores it. thoughts like that go nowhere in her life.

it’s almost like a dream. one moment she is sitting, eating dinner with her grandparents, her mother gone ( as she frequently is these days ), and she looks up to her grandmother for a flit of an eye, then away. suddenly, she is gasping, filled with mental images that aren’t fitting to what she knows the bands of her imagination to be.

❝ blood, ❞ she says, reeling, the word coming out before she even means it to, ❝ why are your hands covered in blood ? bà, why are your hands covered in blood ? ❞ her grandmother, of course, demands to know what she means, and when andy tells her she does not know, sends her away, back to her room without finishing dinner on the promise she gets some rest.

two nights later, in the middle of the night, her grandparents get an urgent call from the hospital with words of andy’s mother and an accident. she’d be in a passenger in the car of a drunk driver, and upon impact into another vehicle, had been thrown from the car and through the windshield.

by the time they get there, it is too late. they barge into the room, doctor’s standing all around, grim eyes set to the floor. a moment of silence one sees only in movies.

andy can’t take her eyes off her mother’s, glazed and empty. she’s rooted in the stop. her grandmother, however, has no such qualms. she lunges forward, grabs onto her only daughter and yells for the doctor’s to do something, uselessly pressing to a wound that had caused her to bleed out.

it is only after the fact, hours later, after the bui family leaves the emergency room, goes home, that the night’s second tragedy occurs.

the door shuts, and andy walks on numb feet towards the stairs. her eyes hurt from crying. she wasn’t close with her. her mother had not been much of a mother at all, never showing her interest or even bare minimum affection. but she was a kind, sensitive person, and the thought of her being gone hurt so badly.

( and though andy refuses to admit it to herself. there’s a nagging part of her head that knew this was going to happen. that saw it coming in a way she does not understand. )

her grandmother turns on her, looking so tired, but there’s something behind her eyes that scares the younger of the two. it looks like hatred. like fear. ❝ what are you ? ❞ she hisses. ❝ what have you done with my cháu ? meant to lead us astray ? how did you know ? ❞

andromeda has been so upset, she hadn’t noticed, but now she does. her grandmother’s hands are covered in blood, just like she had said. it doesn’t feel like some sort of coincidence.

vile is spewed at her. accusations she cannot begin to wrap her head around. there’s only so many times one can deny something without sounding uncertain, and the truth is that andy has no idea either how she knew that. she tries to explain, but all she does is further prove how much of an outsider she is. something evil. something to pray against.

they put her up for adoption the day after, and andy never gets to go to the funeral. she bounces around after that, and by a fated chance, lands in the arms of the isley-quinzels when she’s only nine.

they meet her as andromeda rosalie, the kid with the 100-watt smile with pockets of sunshine to hand out. maybe a bit sad in the eyes, and a bit too willing to speak her mind, but it all adds to the endearing qualities.

andy instantaneously grows attached with the smallest bit of preference towards harley, though she’s eternally grateful for them both. she’s adopted only a few months after that, but it isn’t until she’s eleven does she tell her family about that thing in her head.

she sits them all down, laying it all down as it as, and as she knows it. she calls it her ‘ khùng ‘ ( vietnamese for crazy ). she doesn’t think of it like it is but hopes they can understand. and she tells them even more, things she never admitted out loud.

about how she gets dreams and flashes of pictures and sometimes she sees people she knows aren’t real, but none of it ever makes sense until it’s too late. andy shows them pictures in her sketchbook, the nice one harley & pamela bought her, the kind she drew in that state. she tells them the meaning behind the ones she can.

the thorns she drew before an upsettingly ended friendship. the mirrors in the practice room of her new dance academy before she even stepped inside. the long tidal wave she drew in such a hurried frevor the day before being overcome with an overpowering cold.

andromeda is expecting the worst. but she knows she can never live here with these amazing people who help her and don’t push her in bad ways if she can’t tell them her secret. she understands they will want to see her gone, too, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

but. they aren’t angry. happy, rather, that she felt comfortable enough to tell them. and entirely willing to help andy understand herself better, and what’s going on better. her mutation. the one thing she had never considered.

without the weight of it so pressing, now knowing she has her family’s support, andromeda is a new person. she is finally given time to grow up, at her pace, and does it in every way she can. tries thousands of things she wasn’t allowed back when she was younger. she never quite realized how much of the world she was kept from.

she gets enrolled into dance academy and learns to enjoy ballet without having to constantly focus on the idea of being the best. she takes art classes on the side, grows a collection of brushes and paints and pencils.

she always paints and draws in color, but when her visions come over her, it’s in black and white. she doesn’t like to think about it, though.

she’s widely surrounded by the sort of degenerates you grow used to living in gotham, but it’s not a lifestyle that she’s ever given much thought to. she rather enjoys focusing on her hobbies, more so than causing trouble.

when andromeda gets into her teenage years, she’s attracted all kinds of attention. an overachiever & a generally beautiful person, especially with such an interesting power ― that’s what they all think of precognition. the bags under her eyes, the days of worry, the chronic migraines do not speak for themself.

along the line, she’s dubbed shooting star. affectionate, at heart, but she hears this: one day she’s going to burn up in the atmosphere. andromeda chooses to take it, run with it, wears it like a brand. she calls it her secret identity.

she’s told that in a week, it won’t matter anymore. she’ll get over it. she doesn’t.

after graduating from the academy, she takes a gap year. she calls it her forgotten year, but only to herself. she makes up elaborate stories of a string of parisian lovers and rowboating in bangladesh and a beautiful mountain in ireland.

the truth: she doesn’t remember half of it. she remembers taking a plane to europe. backpacking towards north. for months at a time, it fades out. she remembers waking up in spain in a room covered in finished canvas. zoning back in at a cafe in the netherlands with pages of her calendar missing. this is the year she learns to fear her powers.

she forces herself to go home, or at least the next best thing. paragon, double majoring in art and dance, trying to keep herself busy. andy isn’t interested in slacking, is just trying to stay awake.

soon after that, she meets them. her first real relationship. to this day, she calls them her first love in her head. it burns fast and bright, and after they end it, she’s heartbroken. rejection isn’t something she can deal with without an entire relapse in personality.

she’s told she’ll get over it in a week. it’s been five years.

andy starts looking for love in places it’s not. she wears her heart proudly on her sleeve, the perfect place for the thieves of gotham to pick it off. she falls in love with a new face every day. she’s never interested longer than a week.

it’s the kind of activity that gains a reputation. it only cheers her on.

when her brother dies, things change. andromeda’s convinced she should have known. if she could only understand her powers, maybe she would have been able to do something. if she could try harder, she’d be able to figure it out, before it’s too late.

she’s so tired of it always being too late.

but she’s spent years covering her sadness, so much so her friends become worried for her mental state even during such clear tough times, and it’s ugly and it’s terrifying, but it’s the only thing she had. during it, she took more time away.

a part of her wanted to be gone again. she went the latin america this time. brazil, then venezuela, and then colombia. but she doesn’t stay gone long. she doesn’t make peace with it, either, but she can’t let herself fall any deeper. it feels like it’s been years since she’s felt like herself.

by the time she gets back to paragon, so is quin. she doesn’t believe it at first, but soon realizes it makes sense. she’s been drawing amorphophallus titanums for days. corpse plants.

she gets back into the swing of things. starts painting in color again, for her, not whatever has been eating at her that day. she’s starting to feel a bit more human again. a lit less like something being controlled.

widely known as ‘ the dramatic one, ‘ andromeda is overly friendly with her same old love fever attitude. she makes friends of all types, as well as enemies, and even does a few palm readings on the side.

wanted connections :

best friend ! someone who she gets along with more than complacent fakeness. someone who gets her a bit more than she’d probably like. someone who gets it.

exes ! she has literal LITERAL hundreds. a new one each week, she’s the type to string someone on, but when she’s doing it she devotes the passion of a thousand suns to every molecule of their being.

gotham kid ! a person who knew that interesting little human with the sense of naivety that only creeps up on her sometimes these days. whether she enjoyed their presence or not, or even knew them before becoming an isley-quinzel, there’s plenty to work with.

something precog-y ! maybe, for once, she got it right, or at the very least tried to forewarn. or maybe she played it for kicks and gave them a fake as hell psychic reading for shits and giggles. dealer's choice.

anything else ! i’m always done for plotting, and you can message me here or at discord @ 2857.

#sidekick.intro #* ━━ ◤ ᵀᴿᴱᴹᴮᴸᴵᴺᴳ ᴮᴱᶠᴼᴿᴱ ʸᴼᵁᴿ ᴼᵂᴺ ᴳᴿᴱᴬᵀᴺᴱˢˢ / isms . ◢

4 notes · View notes

imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years

Text

The Break Up

Part 2.2:

The taxi from Glasgow airport to the central was spent in utter silence. Claire’s flight had been turbulent and agitated. Once she’d raced through the airport and had been boarded, she had sat, wiggling her foot nervously. At least three times during the flight, Claire had changed her mind as to whether she should actually go to the hospital. It was ridiculous. She was on the plane now, it would be counterproductive to land in London only to turn around and go home again.

Once she’d disembarked one plane and been ushered onto the next, Claire had finally accepted her decision. She’d caught a glimpse of London as they flew further north and her heart calmed, her subconscious quashing any final reservations.

As the blue and white glow of the hospital sign came into view, Claire held her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from throwing up in the back of the cab. Squeezing her eyes shut, she battled with the panic as she paid, the British currency seeming so foreign between her fingers.

“Thanks,” she whispered as she gathered her luggage and sloped into the A&E entrance.

It was quiet and calm as she strolled down the all but empty entrance corridor towards the reception desk.

“Hi,” she said, addressing the nurse hovering by the desk, “I’m looking for a James- ah, Jamie Fraser? I’m Claire Beauchamp, someone called me about him.”

Nodding, the nurse's eyes went wide as she took in Claire, cold, disheveled and plainly well traveled. “Aye, I ken the man. It must have been Carol who called ye, said ye seemed fair fashed by the situation. You’ve come here from America then?”

“Y-yes, I needed to make sure he’s alright,” Claire added, feeling the need to justify her existence. Jenny had certainly been here and knew she’d been contacted from the look on the staff nurse's face. Claire’s stomach flipped and the chicken dinner she’d been fed on the plane sat like concrete in her belly.

“Aye. Well, he’s along here. Did ye want to follow me, lassie?”

Nodding, Claire pulled her suitcase behind her, hiking her rucksack over her shoulder as she tugged her coat across her chest. The walk felt like forever, and yet the halls were still familiar to her as if she’d only been here yesterday. Although she’d work in Inverness general after her training, Claire had begun her internship in Glasgow. Concentrating on that, she forced away the feelings of impending doom as she walked closer and closer to Jamie.

“Here,” the nurse pointed, her thumb stabbing towards the only open door on the private corridor. “Careful though, Ms Beauchamp, he’s in a bad way.” “Is he still stable, though?” Claire returned. She’d seen victims of road traffic accidents many a time so she had an idea as to the state he might be in. But his external appearance wasn’t her issue.

“Och, aye. The Doctor has cleared him for internal bleeding now. He’s still no’ awoken though. We weaned him from the drugs keeping him under a few hours ago but he’s a stubborn one.”

Claire smiled, her eyes welling with tears as she glanced towards the door, “he is, that or he’s enjoying the break. The calm before the storm.”

The nurse made a very clear Scottish noise, nodded and tipped her head towards the door. “In ye go then, lass. Just dinna gi’ him too much of a shock, ken?”

Claire bit her lip before taking her leave of the nurse without another word. Her energy levels were dipping and she’d need the rest to face Jamie - if he woke during her visit. She entered the room with added caution, sliding her suitcase into the corner before turning round slowly to face Jamie.

Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks as she looked over his prostrate form. The tubes and wires flowed from his left forearm but there were significantly less than she’d imagined there would have been only days before. An oxygen tube still sat sloppily under his nose and the heart monitor beeped softly in the background as she rushed to his side and fell to her knees.

“Oh...Jamie,” she sobbed, her hands skimming over his bicep as her tears fell against his ashen skin. He was pale, paler than she remembered him to be but his skin was also marred by cuts, welts and bruises.

Bolting upright, Claire felt a miniscule movement that pulsed through her fingers where they lay on Jamie’s arm. It was small but purposeful, enough that her eyes were focused now on Jamie’s closed ones. His eyelashes fluttered, the subtle shadow of his thick lashes moving gently against his cheeks as his lips twitched.

Claire felt her heart lurch as her fatigue suddenly fell away replaced by utter shock. She’d known it was a risk, her coming here. She had known that he could and would most likely be awake at some point during her visit but Claire had envisioned having some time to prepare for this moment.

Stepping back slightly, Claire held her breath as she watched the careful flickering of Jamie’s movements. First it was just a few twitches here and there, but then he swallowed and moaned audibly, his tongue peeking out from between his lips to moisten them. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before he opened his eyes, Claire held her hands steady twisting the ring she’d received from her mother after her death around her finger.

“W-what happened…?” Jamie croaked, squeezing his eyes together as he tried to shift himself into a comfortable position beneath the mass of wires and blankets.

Claire knew that he probably wouldn’t expect her to be there, but she was the only one in the room. Swallowing back the vile taste that had taken root on her tongue, she started to speak knowing that once she’d opened her mouth there was no going back.

“You were involved in a hit and run, from what I’m told…” Claire whispered, her quiet voice carrying across the almost silent room. She watched as Jamie clenched his unhindered left hand against the sheets of the bed, his eyes flickering beneath their lids as he realised that it wasn’t the nurses or Jenny talking to him.

“Claire?” He asked, his voice low and gravelly from disuse.

“Yes, Jamie. It’s me, Claire.”

“It’s sae good to hear yer voice again, Claire.” Jamie added, before Claire could continue.

Sobbing, Claire put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out loud. His words warmed her, but she knew things would be different once he started to regain full consciousness. It was clear that he missed her from Jenny’s cutting words and the fact that he’d left her as his emergency contact, though her prolonged absence had long lasting consequences.

“It’s good to see you again, too,” she replied finally when she was sure that her voice wouldn’t abandon her. “I didn’t-- well, I wasn’t sure y-you’d want me to come…”

“Dinna be daft,” he sighed, “I’m glad s’you who’s here. Jenny would yank my balls off fer being so stupid…” he continued with a splash of humour in his tone.

“She told me,” Claire responded, giving Jamie a chance to roll over and open his eyes whilst she explained herself, “Jenny did. We met in Boston accidentally and she told me about the trial. About how they managed to get the case thrown out. About your innocence.” “Aye,” he replied, his blue eyes locked on her whisky ones - tears welling on the bottom lids as he watched hers water too. “They worked hard, Jenny and Ian. They paid a m-man...a guy called Ned Gowan. He was incredible.”

Claire nodded, the first of her tears falling, making damp tracks down her cold cheeks. “I shouldn’t--”

“Neither should I, Claire,” Jamie cut in, his face twitching in pain as he tried to sit up. “But we dinna need to werrit about the past now, aye? It’s done.”

Pushing the tips of her nails into the palms of her hands, Claire held back from saying anything more. So much as she wished their paths had been different, he was right, there was no going backwards now, only forward. Licking the salt of her tears from the corners of her mouth she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she smiled sadly across at Jamie.

“I’m still sorry for it, Jamie.”

Resting his head on the thick pillow, Jamie closed his eyes for an extended period of time whilst Claire stood awkwardly close by. Smiling to himself, he revelled in her quiet company, his mind bringing up all of those happy moments before captain Randall’s arrival in Inverness.

“I hope ye dinna think me rude,” he began, changing the topic of conversation, “but what brings ye back now, Sassenach?”

The pet name he used to use for her rang in her ears long after he’d finished talking making her heart miss a beat. Having been by herself for so long, Claire had nearly forgotten all of the tiny warming feelings that being close to another elicited within her. But now, here, in the presence of the one person who’d set her alight all those years ago, those memories were slowly resurfacing beneath her skin.

“I got a call from the hospital,” she replied as soon as she was able, “I’m your emergency contact still.” Shrugging her shoulders, Claire tried to make light of it but it was clear from the inflection in her tone that it wasn’t as blase as she was making out.

Before Jamie could question her any further there was a flurry of activity at the door and Claire took another measured step backwards as Jenny, Ian and Jamie’s uncle Murtagh came bounding into the room, wide smiles plastered on their faces.

“You had us worried sick, brother!” Jenny half-screamed, her voice almost bursting Claire’s eardrums as she tried to make herself blend in with the background.

It was Murtagh who noticed her first, his brows scrunching together as he clocked her, hunched shoulders and all, hovering by the small window. “Claire,” he asked, his voice guarded as he whispered the question, “is that you, lass?” He didn’t seem altogether displeased by her sudden arrival, but Claire could tell by the look of abject horror that crossed across Jenny’s face that not all of the Fraser’s would be pleased by her sudden appearance.

“Yes, Murtagh,” she replied quietly, “it’s me. How are you?”

Sweeping her up in a bone crunching hug, Murtagh pulled Claire firmly against his chest and held her tight. His large hand found its way into her hair and he kissed her heartily on the cheek before placing her back down again. “Weel, my girl,” he said, “yer certainly a sight for sore eyes. How have you been?”

“She’s fine, Murtagh,” Jenny snapped, incredulous that Claire seemed to be stealing attention from Jamie. “Two arms, two legs and still breathing I hasten to add.”

Balking at the venom hissed in her direction, Claire bowed her head and made to collect her belongings. “I’m s-sorry for intruding,” she returned calmly, “I’ll go now.”

“No…” Jamie perked up, his voice still sounding small in amongst the much louder pitch of his sister, brother-in-law and uncle. “Please,” he continued, as he pushed himself upwards only to flop back onto the bed. “Ignore Jenny. Stay, Claire.”

Jenny’s eyes went wide at the dismissal of her concerns and she went red in anger. Focus locked on Jamie once more, Claire tried to rein in her emotions as she tried not to notice Jenny and the rage bubbling beneath her less than cool surface. She hadn’t flown all the way to simply leave and that part of her that wanted to show how sorry she was ached to remain close to Jamie in whatever capacity he’d have her around.

“Are you sure, Jamie?” She asked, clearly shocked at his outburst. He’d never outwardly defied his sister in front of Claire when they’d been together. The sight of her restored to him, though, had obviously given him some courage in the face of the eldest Fraser.

“Aye,” he returned, “ye’ve travelled all this way.”

“Alight,” Claire said, “but I’ll go and check in now, if you don’t mind. I’m sure you have plenty to catch up on without me.” The bashful hint to her tone made Murtagh smile sadly in her direction, but Claire could tell that Jenny was about ready to burst. If she didn’t leave now, she was certain to get a mouthful from the bawdy Scot.

“I’ll walk you out, lass,” Murtagh added cheerfully, patting Jamie gently on the shoulder as he helped Claire to pack up her belongings.

Quirking a smile over at Jamie, Claire followed Murtagh out of the crowded hospital room. “I’ll come back tomorrow, if you don’t mind?” She asked, wanting his permission now he was awake.

“Aye, I’d like that.” Jamie replied as Claire disappeared nodding as she went.

Walking closely by Murtagh’s side, Claire remained silent, drinking in the calm quiet of the man as they trudged closer to the reception of the hospital.

“I just want to say one thing, Claire...” Murtagh finally said as he passed Claire her suitcase back.

Holding her breath, she awaited the disappointment speech from him. Murtagh had been the one to convince Jenny of Claire’s goodness when her and Jamie had first gotten together. Although not actively victimised by Jenny’s sharp tongue, Claire was an outsider in the Fraser’s world especially in the beginning. But one talking to from Murtagh and all side glances had stopped.

Of all the Fraser’s, Jamie aside, Murtagh was the only one Claire had felt horrid leaving behind with no word.

“...and I don’t want anymore ‘sorrys’, aye?”

“Alright,” Claire answered and then went quiet.

“Dinna leave us wi’out so much as a goodbye again, ken?” He said, his bushy brows meeting in the middle of his forehead as his eyes held hers, seriousness coating his face.

“What if Jenny murders me in my sleep?” She joked, a pleasant shiver of acceptance rolling through her at Murtagh’s words. She’d always known how much affection Murtagh had held for her, but he was a man of few words and never actively told her how much she meant to him. Those few sentences proved that even time apart hadn’t dulled his devotion to her and it warmed her heart.

“Ach,” Murtagh chuckled lowly, “do ye think I’d let her do that? But in all seriousness, Claire, we’ve missed ye...a lot.”

Holding her hand over her chest where her heart was steadily beating beneath her ribs, Claire climbed into a taxi and nodded at Murtagh as the door closed behind her. As the cab drove off towards Claire’s hotel she began openly sobbing for the first time since she’d landed on British soil. The emotions of the day spilling over as they battled the late evening Glasgow traffic.

Whatever had gone before, Murtagh had given Claire some hope. Nevermind the mistakes that had been made on her departure those four years ago. Hidden in the relatively safe confines of the small car she felt buoyant. Jamie was awake, he had asked her stay and she was certain that, despite some misgivings, she would be able to fix it. Holding Ellen Fraser’s pearls close, Claire breathed in a deep, soothing breath.

She *would* fix it.

#;Mod MBD #The Break-Up #Jamie X Claire

207 notes · View notes