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losvoleiboles · 10 months

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Let's start with a little TsukiHina story illustrated with some simple doodles (originally done in 2021 for TsukiHina Magic Week Day 1: Curses/Blessings).

Moon's Child: A TsukiHina Tale

The Tsukishimas were a big family. However, none of their seven children had managed to conceive a healthy child of their own. They had tried every remedy they could think of, even traveled to far away lands looking for the counsel of renowned healers and witches, but to no avail. The bloodline seemed doomed to end there.

One night, out of sheer desperation, the matriarch, who was already well into old age, used her last breaths to pray to whomever was listening. And through the veil of life and death, the Moon heard her prayers and promised her that every Tsukishima to come would be blessed with a child. And, that that child would grow healthily and live a long and prosperous life.

The only thing the Moon wanted in exchange was that, if they ever manage to conceive a second, they would belong to her. The next day, the younger daughter was pregnant.

Fast-forward a couple generations, it was a full moon the night Maiko Tsukishima gave birth to her second child and the child’s pale skin seemed to glow beneath the moonlight that filtered through the window. They called him Kei.

The Tsukishimas briefly worried about the old pact, but years passed, and the child grew healthy; so they gathered the Moon’s boon might have run his course.

The Moon, though, didn’t have a sense of time like humans did.

Kei was seven, when he met Hinata for the first time. Hinata who was loud, annoying and always pestering him. They fought more often than not, but you could rarely see one without the other. “We are not friends though”, they would swear if anyone asked.

One day, when they were barely 15, Kei disappeared. Hinata looked in every one of the usual places, under their favorite tree, next to the creek were the frogs gather, even in a cave on the forest when they once took shelter from the rain; but Kei was nowhere to be found. So, he went to the Tsukishima’s, and there he learned about the old pledge.

“I will find him whatever it takes, and I will bring him back”, he promised, not a trace of doubt in his face.

Thus, Hinata traveled the world, looking for people who still believed in the old magic, people who could give him answers.

He crossed seas, climbed mountains, fought agains terrible creatures. Until one day, on a remote town at the edges of the world, he found an old lady, her mother had been a Moon priestess.

“The only way to reach the Moon’s realm is with a blessing from the Sun”, he told him. So, Hinata’s quest continued.

Everything was dark and humidity seeped through his clothes. He didn’t know how long he has been in this place, time didn’t seem to pass here, on the Moon’s realm. He felt no hunger or thirst. However, he was sure his body was growing.

Loneliness consumed Kei’s every thought. “I wish he had taken me as a baby. If you don’t know something, you can’t miss it, right?”, he often thought. But he did know, and he did miss.

He missed his family, he missed his brother and his books, and all the little creatures he used to observe (there was nothing here). And, most of all, he missed Shouyou, with his bright smile and his loud voice… and his constant presence… he missed him so badly sometimes he thought it was gonna kill him.

“Let me pass, I have to get in there”

“You’ll have to go through me”, roared the mighty dragon.

It was an arduous battle, both bled and tiredness seeped through their bones, but at last Hinata managed to defeat the fiery creature.

“Now you’ll let me meet the god Sun.”

“You already have, child. I am the Sun and you passed the test. This sword is imbued with my light, there’s no darkness it cannot reach.”

“How do I find it, the dark side of the moon?”, asked Hinata hesitantly.

“Just close your eyes and think of what you most desire, the sword will guide you”

When Hinata opened his eyes, everything surrounded him was in complete darkness. For a moment, he panicked, then he remembered the sword. “Deep breath, focus, find Tsukki”. Suddenly he felt it, he barely didn’t notice drawing his sword and slicing through the darkness.

“A light?”

Kei looked up, tear tracks on his face, the brightness hurt his eyes, but he couldn’t make himself look away. Then he saw something, a figure coming from the light.

“Is that... Shouyou?”. It can’t be, he must be hallucinating.

The figure (Shoyou?) descended besides him.

“Hey, Tsukki! At last, I found you. Don’t tell me you forgot about me”, with a bright but slightly teary smile Shoyou offered his hand and Kei took it and propped himself up.

Don’t know how long they stood there, taking each other in. Then, Hinata lunged forward, his surprisingly strong arms wrapping around Kei’s waist and enveloping him in a crushing hug.

“I missed you”

“What? Didn’t have anyone to annoy", Kei quipped, "missed you too.”

"So...let's get out of here"

#tsukihina #(not really used to writing but here you go)#tsukishima kei #hinata shouyou #hq fanart #hq fanfic #fantasy au #tskhn #hinata x tsukishima #haikyuu #hq art #hq hinata #hq tsukishima #my stuff

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cacytho · 4 months

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⚠️VERY LONG VENT⚠️

my parents “broke up” for a little? if u can call it that. my dad had been cheating on my mum for a little over 6 months (idk how long i just know a minimum of 6 months) she found out on the 12th of may 2023. she found out after SHE dropped off all 4 of her kids who go to 3 separate schools (my older sister 15, me 13, my younger sister 10 and the youngest 9). she came home looked at his phone while he was showering. she did it bc they had almost 20 years of marriage and he was being more distant than usual. a woman from work (my dad works 7 on 7 of). that after noon we all got home from school and mum said that dads going through some stuff and doesn’t want to be with her anymore. there were a lot of tears. he stayed for the night than left on saturday. on sunday (WHICH WAS MOTHER’S DAY.) my mum told me (i was 13 at the time) and my older sister (who was 15 at the time) that he was cheating. (we found her face book she look to be in her late 20s, she deleted said facebook, my sister later found out she was in her mid 20s (my dads 50)) up until june when my dad was home he would stay home with up and my mum would stay at a friends house and when my mum wanted to be home dad would stay at a caravan park. and when my dad was home he would sleep on a blow up mattress. my mum and dad started doing stuff together, like dates, couples counseling. my mum said she’s staying with him for us, so we have a dad. ive asked her and she said she would of left him if she didn’t have us. i’ve given her my opinion and told her to leave him, file for divorce. my dad (who’s never rlly been present my entire life. one time when i was 6 he missed a fathers day picnic. i was the only kid there without there dad, i was also a rlly shy kid so that entire time i sat alone) he wasn’t one to join in on fun things. he would either be inside on the couch, yelling at us to shut up or outside in his garage. so now he was in jeopardy of loosing his wife and possibly his kids. he was close, he would do stuff with us, he would take us places without my mum telling him too. at first i was loving it, finally having a dad? booya. and we all believed i was his favourite daughter, i would ask him for something. done. but over time. idk something changed, sure if i asked smth he would get it. but he wasn’t treating me like my sisters. i got ruffer treatment. i am a bit boyish than my sisters, 2 of them r rlly into makeup and the other one loves to dress up. we would physically fight. like no abuse or anything. he was treating me like a son. we would both be laughing. but most days i would be allowed to sleep in, he would wake me up by either having water poured on me, him jump on me (he’s 50 and over weight) or him straight up trying to fight me. i’ve made him bleed countless times (i’ve got long nails) we’ve been in endless arguments. i’ve had him straight up tell me he hates me (in front of my mum and sisters) and my mum told ME to apologise. my relationship with my parents has never been good. but it had never gotten this bad. i was confused me and my mum would shit talk my dad, than she would get up me for shit talking my dad. it’s so confusing having someone go against smth u swore u would always hate on try and be better. am i just meant to forget? like he trying to be better to my mum but not me? he’s hurt me too. he fights me. i don’t give him mnms (that k paid for) he try’s to physically fight me. also did i mention that my older sister found the mistresses phone number? and now i have it. her name is Lauren.

sorry about this if u read it, just needed to write it out.

#vent post #tw vent #daddy issues #mommy issues #family #issue #fights #please help

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angstyclowns · 3 years

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Please don’t let me go.

Part 2 to this! Thank you all so much for 2K followers!

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki did not lose. Not in battles, not in competitions, friendly or not, and he would not lose you. He refused to. He would not let you go. He loved you too much. He was too selfish to let you go. He fucked up, he’d own that. He fucked up badly, though he wasn’t certain he knew how to fix it. He could hear your sobs throughout your den, making him whine.

You hadn’t done anything but cry since those blasted words left his mouth and he was beginning (Pshh beginning, he always worried about you) to get scared. Groaning, he shut off his phone, thanking any and every being out there an old friend of his was willing to take his shift (He had to send her a gift basket for her and Deku). His duffel landed on the ground with a thud before he was running to your guys room, opening the door with zero hesitation. You looked up to him with such heartbreak in your eyes. Fuck, his chest hurt.

Katsuki was never good with words, you and him both knew this, but he still had to make it right. He had too. Fuck his eyes were stinging as he approached you, making him collapse onto his knees in front of your nest. You watched him, not saying anything.

“Please, fuck I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Any of what I said. You don’t deserve it-deserve it. You deserve so much better than me- But I don’t want to let you go-” He was crying now, making you cry as well. You understood he was stressed, and you probably weren’t making it any better. Both of you were stressed and anxious and- fuck.

This wasn’t healthy communication. You and him both knew it. You needed to fix this. With time you would. Right now though, right now you were focused on the arms wrapping around you, and thats all you would focus on for now.

---

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about with this upcoming pregnancy? This is a safe space.”

Katsuki smirked at the therapist. playing with the ring on your finger as he held your hand.

“What is there to say? I’m pumped. The Bakugou genes live on and I’ve got my pretty omega by my side.”

While marriage counselling sounded terrible on paper, it wasn’t. It gave you both an outlet and coping mechanisms when hurdles appeared in your relationship, and made you both overall a lot happier.

You purred as you leaned on your alpha, making the therapist smile.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m no longer needed here. You both seem to have impressive communication now, and I can’t see this changing when your pup arrives. Though, keep in mind when that time comes, you both will need to be top of your game.”

You watched Katsuki nod, completely entranced by the therapists words. If you would’ve told yourself about this Katsuki a year ago, when your huge fight broke out, you would’ve laughed in your own face. But now, watching Katsuki work hard to prove he was the alpha you deserve?

Your heart fluttered and the butterflies in your tummy grew restless. While a pup would be a big challenge, you and Katsuki were ready for it.

And he would be with you every step of the way.

Shouto Todoroki

His choice was made before his subconscious even had the chance to boot up. His throat closed up and his phone was crushed in his palm when it tried dragging his attention from the fact at hand. It was dropped with little remorse as Shouto quickly ran in the same direction you did, stopping you from entering your guys room. You chirped in surprise when he turned you around, pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

You wanted to fight him but Shouto didn’t let you. He didn’t let you go when you squirmed, he only tightened his grip (Not hurting you). He didn’t know when it happened, but tears were starting to drip down his cheeks.

Shouto didn’t get angry. But he got upset. He felt so guilty. Just seeing your heartbroken face replay on his mind was torture. Just knowing he had just did the same thing his father did to his mother. He was dismissing your worries and genuine concern because of his job.

“I-I don’t see how messed up this is. But I want you to tell me- show me. I want to be a better alpha for you. Bonding you wasn’t and won’t ever be a mistake to me. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to. I want to know why it’s such a big deal.”

You broke down as Shouto held you, not finding the words to explain anything just yet. You would need time to do so, and he would give you that time.

He just wanted to tell you he made his choice.

In fact, there wasn’t much of a choice at all, and he hoped-- prayed-- you could feel that.

---

“Shouto, we need you to start up the scenting again. You’re rep is dropping and-” His P.R. manager was halted with a finger, the half-and-half hero quickly dialing your number on a new-- not crushed-- phone.

“Sho? Aren’t you at work? Why are you calling? Did something-”

“Scenting things that aren’t for you, thats a breech of privacy and demeans our relationship, right?” Shouto cut you off, sending a silent apology to you.

You paused on the other end. “Yeah? We had this conversation a couple weeks ago. Are you okay?”

He smiled. “Fine. Just reminding myself.”

You both said your quick goodbyes before Shouto turned to his P.R. manager. “My omega said no.”

“Who cares what your omega thinks?! Your-”

“I’m nothing without my omega. I care what my omega thinks and what my omega says go. If her word isn’t enough then mine will be. I said no.”

Silently, Shouto patted himself on the back as he turned, trying to leave for patrol. You would be proud of his newly shined spine.

“Your-”

“Oh, before I forget. ” Shouto turned, facing the manager who was red with rage. It made him smirk. “You’re fired.”

Keigo Takami

Patrol was rough. Brutal. He couldn’t focus.

He had told you he was more important. He wasn’t.

He was a broken shell of a man. Hawks was this fucking persona he put up, and in that moment those words came from him. Not the Keigo that you dug so hard for. Not the Keigo that you ached for late at night, just wanting to hold him in your arms.

He was blurring the lines between Keigo and Hawks, with Hawks breaking through as the dominant. He didn’t want that. Not at all. He wanted Keigo to still be there. Be there for you.

Fuck this.

He was going to be there for you. Fuck the hero rankings. Fuck the commission. Fuck anything that kept him from you.

Turning around, he ignored any calls of his name, soaring faster than he had all evening to get to you. He could see you through the windows of the balcony (You both lived on the top floor, enough enough ceiling to floor windows looked nice). You were looking ahead of you blankly, wrapped in one of his sweaters. Fuck you looked like you had gone through the ring. Hair messy and eyes blotchy.

You didn’t even look over when he tumbled through the door, literally crawling to you.

Keigo would admit he had never cried since he was six. He was twenty-three now. That was seventeen years.

He would also admit he cried at your feet. Angry, painful sobs that rocked his body and made him hurt. He didn’t care though. He’d do it all for you.

He tried pleading that he was nothing without you. Hollow and empty.

To be fair though, he wasn’t even certain he was doing anything other than incoherent babbles. When your arms wrapped around him and allowed his wings to cocoon around you both, he figured he made some sense.

For you, he’d go through all the pain seventeen years of hiding would bring him.

---

“Baby bird!”

Keigo didn’t normally call out to you like he found himself doing, but recently, he’s found himself doing a lot of stuff he never imagined himself doing.

Domestic life with you was such a nice feeling.

Having you in his arms every morning, working with you as he got ready for work, watching you yourself get ready for your day. Just you.

You were perfect in everyway and it made his chest tighten with love every time he saw you.

You turned the corner with a smile, waving to him before gesturing for him to follow. He did so with a quirked brow, following you to one of the ex-guest rooms. You were giddy, bouncing slightly in your place with your scent so happy and boisterous it made Keigo purr.

When you decided he wasn’t moving fast enough, you ran back, pulling him forward and into the nursery. His son was laying there, fast asleep in a makeshift mini-nest, bright red wings wrapped around himself as a blanket.

You cooed and held onto Keigo, watching as your alpha picked up your son, holding him to his chest. The young boy merely ruffled his feathers, quickly recognizing the scent and nuzzling into his dad’s chest.

While he went through seventeen years of pain in the span of two, he had you by his side. And now, he had his son. His son which you had gifted him.

He didn’t know what he was thinking back then, but truly no one was more important than you.

And he would take that with him until the day he dies.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #Katsuki Bakugō #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #alpha keigo takami #alpha hawks #hawks x you #alpha hawks x omega reader #Shoto #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto #bnha boys #bnha fanfic

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angellesword · 3 years

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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (08)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Series: CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9

warnings: unrealistic court happenings i am not a lawyer ok mention of physical abuse, drinking problems, child trauma, mental illness, and infidelity. I want to build a whole new world in this fic that’s why i also didn’t research about divorce trials I’m sorry. OC is kind of annoying/disappointing in this chapter (?) or not (?) Young Choi Soobin of TXT is the kid in this chapter’s moodboard

Jeongguk was the ex-boyfriend Red was talking about.

You figured this out when you were at Seokjin's party. Frankly, the way your soulmate was looking at Red was already a giveaway, but then you had to confirm it yourself.

The only way to do that was to either confront Jeongguk or your assistant.

You chose neither and it was because you were afraid to hear what they would or wouldn't say. This being said, you resorted to your last option.

"Come on..." It was hard to sit on the floor when you're wearing a damn long dress, but this didn't stop you from rummaging through Red's personal things.

It's the middle of the night. You left Jeongguk at your apartment right after he reached his high.

You just wanted to teach him a lesson for being a brat. He was always so rude to you and you honestly thought that he was just in denial—that soon enough, he would realize that you two were really destined to be together.

Apparently, that wasn't going to happen.

You went to your office at one in the morning just to find something that would verify your speculation. You got what you wanted. The photograph of Jeongguk kissing your assistant confirmed it.

Your tears fell.

You didn't know why you felt betrayed. It wasn't like they wanted this. They hadn't done anything wrong. Fate was just cruel. Why didn't you meet Jeongguk first? You couldn't blame him for falling in love with Red—she was sweet, beautiful, and smart. Anyone would definitely like her, so you had no choice but to swallow the lump in your throat and accept this.

You just had to pretend like everything was alright.

It wasn't.

The divorce trial was near and there were still so many things you had to fix. Work was seriously draining the hell out of you and it wasn't like Jeongguk was helping. He was actually adding up to the stress you were feeling.

Jeongguk was giving you the silent treatment and no—it wasn't the type of silence you were used to. Before Seokjin's party, your soulmate was quiet, but not really. He would occasionally huff to let you know that he was annoyed at you. He would also stamp his feet and slam the door just to spite you.

You didn't mind. You knew he was just being a brat; however, things were different now.

After the night of Seokjin's party, Jeongguk changed. He was eerily silent, always avoiding eye contact with you.

You tried talking to him. Regrettably, you were only greeted by stillness.

"You want pizza, Gukkie?"

Nothing.

"Have you watched the latest episode of Start-up?"

Still nothing.

"Did you have a good sleep?"

Nope. Nothing. Nada.

"Wanna make out on the couch?"

Jeongguk's head jolted to your direction. His eyes were wide, cheeks turning crimson because of your bold statement.

"Hey!" You giggled, clearly happy with his reaction. "You finally looked at me!"

Jeongguk shook his head and then he went straight to his room.

You were unbelievable.

You pouted your lips, giving up. You had a feeling that he would come around.

He did. Days later, Jeongguk surprised you when he stood right in front of the door of your apartment. He was blocking your way out.

"Gukkie, I'm going to be late." You sighed. He reminded you of Miri, your cat that's always trying to stop you from leaving.

"You can't leave." His jaw clenched.

You let out a breath once again.

"Don't do this please. Mr. Kim needs me,"

The trial was happening today. You needed to run down a few things with your client before you go to the court room.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Jeongguk folded his arms over his chest.

You stared at him.

"I don't get what?" It was hard to keep your composure when the thing you had been trying to avoid for so long was being rubbed in your face. You knew exactly what Jeongguk was implying.

"—that you want me to drop this case because you want Red all to yourself?"

Jeongguk froze. What was the point of staying silent when you always knew what was running inside his head?

You just always knew.

"You don't have to pretend that you care about Soobin's well-being. I have enough people doing just that," you slightly pushed Jeongguk to the side so that you could pass through the door.

Ah, people.

They're all the same, always trying to conceal their self-interest by pretending that they care for others.

You liked Jeongguk—actually; you were convinced you loved him. He was your soulmate after all, but sometimes love wasn't enough to just give into what he wanted.

This wasn't about your relationship. This was about Soobin's welfare. He's just a child. You were a lawyer who swore an oath to protect the oppressed and incapable. You were their voice.

It sounded cheesy, but this was the type of person you aspired to be. The world was already dark, it wouldn't hurt to be someone's light.

Jeongguk didn't understand your reasons. It was evident when he showed up in court to watch you defend Kim Seokjin.

At first, you thought your eyes were failing you. Was he really here? Was he really the man at the back of the room wearing that big hoodie?

It was him. The familiar scowl on his face said so. Jeongguk was the only person who looked at you like you had offended his whole family.

"All rise!"

You turned to your client upon hearing the bailiff's demand.

"It's going to be alright," assured by you.

Seokjin smiled. He was looking at Red instead of you. He needed the comfort of his soulmate.

Red grinned back. She wasn't worried. She trusted you. She was certain you would succeed. Soobin wasn't going to be taken away from his father.

The first few minutes of the trial went smooth. You had your story straight and with the way the judge was nodding; you instantly knew she was in favor of your side.

Unfortunately, things started to go ugly during the cross-examination of witnesses.

Jung Hoseok was the first one to take the stand. He was the expert witness.

"You are the marriage counselor of Mr. and Mrs. Kim for months now, right?"

"Yes." Hoseok answered the opposing counsel. It was weird seeing him this serious. Your friend was always grinning, but you told him to try to keep a neutral face. This way, the judge and the jury wouldn't know if he was caught off guard by the question of the other side's attorney.

"Mr. Jung, is it true that marriage counselors rarely suggest divorce to their clients?"

"Depends—" Hoseok bit his tongue. You told him to simply answer yes or no. Be responsive to the question and never explain. "I mean, yes."

"And yet here we are..." Ms. Choi, the opposing attorney, shrugged her shoulders.

"Objection!" You stood up. "Relevance?"

You didn't understand why Ms. Choi asked that question to Hoseok when she's just shrugging it off now.

"Sustained." The judge felt the same way.

Ms. Choi raised her hand as if surrendering.

"My bad. I'm just curious, you know? If Mr. Jung is indeed an effective counselor, then why did he suggest that the Kim couple push through the divorce?"

Ms. Choi was furrowing her brow at Hoseok.

"Isn't that true, Counselor Jung? You told Mrs. Kim that it's better to end her marriage with Mr. Kim?"

"Yes." The expert witness answered truthfully.

The opposing side's attorney smiled mockingly.

"It's because you feared for Mrs. Kim's safety, right?"

"What?" Jung Hoseok was lost.

"Come on, Mr. Jung you know exactly what I am talking about! You found out that Mr. Kim is an alcoholic and you are scared that he might harm Mrs. Kim and Soobin, right?" Ms. Choi pointed at the five year old kid who was busy coloring books in the far corner of the room. He was with Seokjin's mother.

"Objection, Your Honor! Compound question!" You glared at Ms. Choi.

"Sustained." The judge clenched her jaw. "Ms. Choi, separate your questions. You are misleading the jury..."

Ms. Choi was flustered, yet she still held her head high. She knew she had the upper hand here.

"Is Mr. Kim alcoholic, Mr. Jung?" She tried again.

Hoseok cleared his throat.

"He had a history of abusing alcohol years ago."

"And you know this because you're also a licensed alcohol and drug counselor, correct?"

"Yes..."

"And Mr. Kim Seokjin also told you about his issue with regard to alcohol abuse?"

"Yes." Hoseok swallowed hard.

There were papers that could attest to Hoseok's claim. This was a win for Mrs. Kim. You could see her growing sarcastic smile that was directed at Red.

You inhaled deeply.

"Mr. Jung, can you please tell us the rate of patients going through alcohol relapse?"

"Uh, it's sixty to ninety percent after the first year of treatment," answered by Hoseok.

"I see. How long has it been since Mr. Kim sobered up?"

"As far as I know, it has been three years."

"Huh." Ms. Choi crossed her arms. "So is there a possibility that Mr. Kim would experience an alcohol relapse?"

"Yes."

"What's the statistical probability, Mr. Jung?"

"About fifty percent high." Hoseok looked dejected. He wanted to help Seokjin win the case, but he couldn't lie.

"I see." Ms. Choi was smiling as if she had already won the case.

"Can you tell us now the effects of experiencing an alcohol relapse? Or a slip?"

Hoseok's palms were sweating. Slip was one episode of drinking alcohol after trying to stay sober. Relapse, on the other hand, was the return to unhealthy behavior. Slip wasn't always followed by a relapse.

Hoseok also explained that there were different stages of relapse. Emotional relapse could cause suppression of emotions, becoming more isolated, trying to blame other people, and aggression, especially when they were confronted. There's also mental and physical relapse which included glamorizing alcohol and compulsive desires to drink.

"No further questions, Your Honor." The corner of Ms. Choi's mouth turned up upon realizing that the jury was in favor of their side now.

You had to step up your game.

The next witness was Son Chae-young. She was Soobin's babysitter. Chae-young had been living with the Kims ever since Soobin was born. She's a witness testifying against Seokjin.

Chae-young cleared her throat when your eyes landed on her. She already felt uncomfortable because of the way you were looking at her.

The way you stand up—shoulder down, neck long—was intimidating.

"You have a really nice necklace, Ms. Son."

Chae-young flinched upon hearing your compliment. She was confused. Mrs. Kim and Attorney Choi told her that you were scary, this was evident by the way you present yourself, but then...the way your eyes light up made her feel at ease. Your voice was soft too.

"Ah...thanks," regardless of your sweet persona, Chae-young still couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Why were you looking at her as if she was important? As if you were here to protect and not cross-examine her?

"Is it from Cartier?"

"Yes!" The babysitter beamed at you as she touched her pretty jewelry.

You smiled warmly at her.

"Did you buy it yourself?"

"Objection! Relevance?" The opposing lawyer clenched her fist. She was shaking, causing you to smile bigger. Guess she knew what was coming to her, huh?

"I'm getting there, Your Honor," said by you. Your expression screamed confidence that the judge was compelled to believe you.

"Overruled."

You continued.

"So...Ms. Son, did you buy that necklace? Or is it a gift?"

"Uh..." Chae-young's lips trembled. She was looking at Mrs. Kim, as if she was asking for her boss' help. "I-I bought it for myself..."

"I see." You nodded. Humoring her. "Do you have any other job aside from babysitting Kim Soobin?"

The nanny shook her head.

"N-No. I'm a full-time nanny of Mrs. Kim's son." Chae-young's lips were still shaking; her eyes were quivering as well.

"Hm, interesting..." You went closer to the witness. "That means you're earning what? Two hundred fifty dollars a month?"

"Objection, Your Honor! I still can't see the relevance of this!" Ms. Choi was losing her mind.

You turned to glare at her.

"Can’t you really see the relevance of this or are you just scared?"

You heard the judge's hit the gavel; she was calling your attention.

"Get to the point right now." The judge demanded at you. It was this or your statement was going to be sustained.

"I am merely establishing my point, Your Honor." Your voice was rough. "The necklace Ms. Son is wearing is worth four thousand three hundred dollars. I know because I have the same necklace and it took me, a lawyer, months!" You paused for a while just to emphasize the word months, "to buy it."

You turned to Chae-young when the judge remained silent.

"So tell me, Ms. Son, how can a full-time nanny like you who's earning minimum wage buy that kind of luxurious jewelry? Huh?" You were standing too close to the witness so Attorney Choi used this as an opportunity to object.

"Your Honor, she is badgering the witness!"

"Overruled." But the judge wasn't having any of it. "Answer the question, Ms. Son."

"I'm sorry!" The nanny's face twisted in fear. "Mrs. Kim bought it for me—"

"It's a gift!" Mrs. Kim blurted out, unable to contain her anger anymore. God. She hated you. "I bought it for her last month! It's my birthday gift for her!"

You smirked. Attorney Choi was panicking. She was caressing Mrs. Kim's hand, telling her to calm down.

Sadly, Mrs. Kim could not be stopped.

"Why am I explaining to you when you have no right to question my intention! It's my money so I get to decide what to do with it!"

She was yelling at you and it almost made you laugh. Why was she so defensive?

"May I remind you that you are a married woman, Mrs. Kim? You have to consider your husband's decision when it comes to spending that amount of money." You said this while glancing at the jury.

Base on their expressions, you knew that they agreed with you. This was a win on your side. One of the valid reasons of Seokjin for wanting a divorce was this. Mrs. Kim didn't know how to manage their assets.

You weren't done, though. You had to discredit the witness. You had to win the jury's side in all aspects.

"And you said you bought it last month for Ms. Son's birthday?" You shook your head, focusing your eyes at the nanny.

"Tell us, Ms. Son, when is your birthday?"

Mrs. Kim's face became pale upon hearing your question.

"January seventeen...”

You turned your attention back to Mrs. Kim again.

"Your birthday present is many months late, Mrs. Kim. Either that or you're just lying to hide the fact that you gave Ms. Son the necklace in exchange of testifying against your husband—"

"Objection—"Attorney Choi tried to stop you, but you cut her off too.

"Isn't that right, Ms. Son? You are bribed by your boss to say that you always see Mr. Kim Seokjin drinking alcohol—"

"Your Honor—" The opposing attorney was losing control, her objections were drowning because of how loud your voice was.

"Mrs. Kim wants you to lie! To say that her husband isn't a good father! That he isn't a good influence to Soobin!"

"Yes!"

You stopped trying to pressure Chae-young because it already worked. She admitted the truth.

"Mrs. Kim bribed me!" The babysitter sobbed, looking at you like you were the Lord and she was a sinner.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I-I can't say no, please...please...I need this job!"

"You bitch!" Mrs. Kim abruptly stood up. She wanted to attack you; fortunately the security officers were able to stop her.

The jury was surprised to see Mrs. Kim's violent reaction. You, on the other hand, didn't even flinch.

You were used to this kind of scene. Besides, you couldn't get sidetracked. You still needed to prove your point.

And so you faced the jury.

"Is this the kind of person that you want to raise a sweet, innocent five year-old kid?"

One of the members of the jury clutched her chest. She was affected by what you had said. Truthfully, they were almost decided to grant the sole custody to Mrs. Kim; however, upon seeing the latter's behavior, the jury was having second thoughts now.

"Just look at her!" You pointed at Mrs. Kim who was still seething with rage.

"She constrained an adult! Imagine the bad things she could force Soobin to do! Mrs. Kim is a manipulator!" You raised your voice dramatically.

"My actions are nothing compared to what that asshole is doing!" Mrs. Kim screamed as she angrily pointed at her husband.

She was crying.

Kim Seokjin was quiet. He was shocked by your responses. He didn't expect you to be this bold. You were different from the lawyer he thought he knew.

You didn't have any limit. You didn't know when to stop just to prove a point.

"He's teaching my son that it's okay to be unfaithful to your wife! Jury, please!" Mrs. Kim was desperate. "Don't let him come near my son! He's a drunken bastard!"

The judge was hitting the gavel again. There were too much drama and unnecessary comments from Mrs. Kim.

You shook your head. You couldn't stop now. The jury was undecided. They changed their minds from time to time. You could see sympathy in their eyes as they looked at the wife.

"Mr. Kim Seokjin is sober! You should be ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Kim! You keep blaming your husband when you're the reason why he turned alcoholic in the first place—"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Attorney Choi glared at you. "The attorney is assuming facts!"

You disagreed before the judge could say sustained.

"Am I?" You smirked at the judge before turning to your table to get your evidence.

Seokjin looked at you nervously.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing," groaned by your client.

You were blinded by your role as a lawyer, so you ignored Seokjin's plea.

"Don't do this..."

Seokjin was already too late.

"I have here the evidence that will prove that Mrs. Kim is the reason why her husband turned alcoholic."

You brought out the printed photos of Seokjin's beaten up face. Bruises, cuts, and other physical injuries were seen.

The jury gasped. Attorney Choi was groaning as she told the judge that these photos were not entered into evidence.

You were playing dirty, but so were they. Ms. Choi told you that they wouldn't bring Mr. Kim's sobriety issue in this court. She lied.

"These pictures are given to me by Mrs. Kim Sunghee, Seokjin's mother." You glanced at your client's mother.

"She knows that her son's wife was assaulting him. Seokjin didn't want to feel his wife's punches so he resorted to drinking the pain away. Mr. Kim just wants to be numb."

"N-No..." Your client's tears streamed down his cheeks. He was calling your name, begging you to stop.

It felt like everyone was begging you to stop; even Sunghee was shaking her head.

It was wrong. This was a mistake. Seokjin's mother realized this when Soobin began to cry. He was silently crying at first, but when the little boy saw the photos in your hand, he started hyperventilating.

"Appa!" Soobin's eyes dilated. He could barely breathe.

Mrs. Kim stood up to attend to her son.

"Soobin!" Mrs. Kim was wailing.

Things were becoming messy.

You didn't understand what was happening, so you just stood there.

"Appa! A-Appa is hurting!" Soobin was losing it; his eyes were rolling in the back of his head.

"Call 911!" Red shouted.

The noise was deafening.

You still didn't get what was happening.

Seokjin went near you.

"I told you not to do it!" He shouted, snatching the photos away from your shaky hands.

"This isn't about me or my wife!" Seokjin continued to scream at you.

You were stunned.

Your client was blaming you.

This is your fault! Seokjin said.

You were wrong. You didn't have to bring out these photos because apparently, Soobin knew.

He witnessed how his mom used to beat up his father.

The poor kid was traumatized.

He had to get some help.

His parents thought he had recovered.

It had been years.

The thing about trauma was, it never went away. It was there—silently sleeping and waiting for that one thing that would trigger it.

You triggered Soobin.

"I-I didn't know..." Your voice was low as you stated your excuse.

No one wanted to hear your lame excuse, not even Jeongguk.

You looked at your soulmate once.

You looked at him desperately.

You looked at him hoping that he would understand—like he would comfort you.

He would never.

Jeongguk had this look in his eyes, the kind of feeling that expressed disappointment.

Jeongguk was disappointed in you.

It was clear because right now, he was shaking his head as if you had done the most horrifying thing in the world.

He shook his head before leaving you all alone.

No one wanted to be with you.

You were a disgrace.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook roommate au #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkoon x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook sugar baby au #bts jungkook #bts jeon jeongguk #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook e2l

531 notes · View notes

thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Dubious Representation (P.4, Final)

Title: Dubious Representation (Part Four, Final) Summary: Fem!Reader x soft Dark!Hank Palmer. Reader’s husband is facing jail time and although Hank Palmer entered the counsel for pro bono, he is still going to get a form of payment. Recently single, he’s been lonely and he’s looking for some comfort. Even if it means obtaining it from less than savory means. Words: 3,110 Warnings (for entire fic): Eventual smut, sexual coercion, infidelity, mention of past domestic violence, verbal abuse

Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Hank came downstairs, buttoning up his dress shirt. You looked over your shoulder from where you were making breakfast, something you had gotten accustomed to when you stayed over. It was relaxing. He was right about one thing; you did love to cook. And it was nice you had someone who actually seemed to appreciate it rather than taking it for granted. Not to mention, his kitchen was top notch, and his fridge was always stocked cause he gave you the money to do so.

He caused you to pause for a second as he grabbed your shoulders to hold you while he kissed your temple.

“Morning, doll,” he spoke against your skin before he pulled away. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You always did on his expensive mattress. Especially after he wore you out.

You finished up and made up two plates. Turning around you found him at the island, clicking away on his phone. You placed his plate in front of him, him thanking you, and slid onto the stool next to him.

He swore under his breath and tossed his phone down before he started eating.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Lisa is being a bitch as usual.” He held a lot of contempt for his ex-wife.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.” He took another bite and eyed you. “I’ve got Lauren this weekend again.”

You made sure you were away when she was there. He never made you feel like you had to be but the few weekends he had with her since you had started seeing him, you made yourself scarce.

“Good. You haven’t seen her in a while,” you told him, and you meant it. It had been a couple weeks. “I need to clean my apartment too, so this is good.”

“You don’t gotta go home.”

You shot him a look at that and saw he was staring at you with purpose. You swallowed your bite and forced a shrug. “It’s okay. It’s good you guys have time alone together.”

“We don’t have to always be alone together,” Hank said, taking another bite. He shrugged in turn now, fixing you with another intense look. “I’ve thought about you moving in.”

That was unexpected. And all you could muster was, “Oh.”

“‘Oh’ what?” He sounded like he was going to get on a combative route.

You rested your hand on the counter, meeting his eyes. “That… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? Explain it to me.”

You blinked. How did you explain how wrong you felt about falling into another man’s bed so soon? The same day Rich had left, you were back with Hank. Not that you had not slept with him before then but… and how guilty you felt about your feelings for him? His relationship had already been done and had been for a while. You were moving on without a consensual party who had no idea what was happening outside their jail cell. No matter how free you felt since you were not afraid of what kind of mood Rich was going to be in when you got home, there was still history.

“It seems too quick.”

“It’s been six months.” Hank grabbed the jug of iced tea you had placed on the counter and began pouring you and him glasses.

“A lot of people would say too quick.”

“Rich is refusing to see you when you have gone to visit. I don’t think it’s quick enough we make this more serious.”

He sounded bitter about the Rich comment. When you had told him you were going to visit Rich in prison the first time, Hank had been frigid. And then the next two times, he was still bristled. And he had had a “told you so” attitude about it when you came back mopey because he was right about that: Rich refused to see you. He would walk in and see it was you at the table and turn around and walk back through the door.

“Don’t you think?” Hank continued as he finished pouring the iced tea. “You are already sleeping here half the week. It’s a waste of money for you to keep the apartment.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. The apartment was yours now. Something you had not had to yourself for years. But you felt more comfortable here.

“I guess when you put it that way,” you said.

He saw your resolve crumbling and he capitalized, leaning on his arm to come closer to you. “Then what’s the issue?”

“My apartment—"

“You know. I brought it up to come to the point to just tell you: Don’t worry about it. I’ve already contacted your building manager about paying off the rest of the lease. You had only four more months left so that wasn’t a huge expense. You need to sign the paperwork though.”

“Hank!”

“What?”

“You didn’t even ask me. And they just spoke to you about my lease when you’re not even on it?”

Hank waved you off, “You’re getting distracted. Did you wanna keep living there with no AC in the summer and then shitty heating in the winter? And that carpet was atrocious in the halls. Do you not like my house?”

“I like it. A lot.”

“Then again, let me ask, what’s the issue?” You had nothing to say, and he grasped your hand. “Doll, all you need to do is go pack up the things you want to bring here — I’ll get you boxes — and then the rest of it we can send to the thrift shop. AND—" he rose his voice as soon as he saw you were going to protest, and you closed your mouth. “The other stuff — you know things of his — we can ship to his next of kin.”

“His parents.”

“Good. They can inherit it. Just like they’ll inherit him when he’s out.”

You let that sink in for a couple moments before you realized a way out of being here while Lauren was here. “Well, then I should go to my apartment this weekend to do that…”

Hank looked impressed for a split second before he agreed, “I suppose so. But I want you available on Saturday morning. You don’t have to stay here but we are going to the botanical gardens and then getting lunch. I want you there. Is that fair?”

It was a type of compromise, a rarity.

“Yes.”

He had still gotten his way. As usual.

<><><>

Lauren was a sweet girl, eleven years old. She was headstrong just like Hank, and you had to smile watching them go back and forth about their opinions. She was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

When she got you alone for a moment, she was watching you closely.

“What’s up?” you asked, trying to hide your unease.

“I told my dad that daddies don’t get lonely when he asked me who I wanted to live with when they were getting divorced.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They move on quick.” Your stomach clenched, worried where this conversation was going. “But my mom was dating someone before he was. Like almost immediately. It’s just weird. But I’m glad he has someone now.”

You relaxed and nodded before you told her, “Me too. He makes me happy.”

<><><>

A week and a half later, there was a voicemail on your cell phone. You did not recognize the number.

You pressed on it and your blood chilled hearing Rich’s voice.

“Y/N, what the fuck is this about all these boxes of my shit showing up at my parent’s house? You know they don’t have the space in their two bedroom. And what the fuck are you sending it away for in the first place? If you’re even thinking about kicking me out, you’ve got another thing coming, you little bitch. Do you understand me? Moving on like a fucking hussy now that I’m in here and you’ve got space in the bed? I know you’re helpless when it comes to providing for yourself but if you think I’m gonna let it slide that you are spreading your legs for some other fucking guy cause you can’t hack it on your own, you are sorely mistaken! I—”

The voicemail cut off. He must have run out of time.

Your lip was warbling as you stared down at your phone.

“What is it?”

Hank’s voice startled you. He was rubbing his hair with a towel, another one wrapped around his waist, straight from the shower.

“Nothing,” you said wiping at your eyes.

Hank’s arm dropped from his head, and he stalked over. He reached his hand out, gesturing for you to hand over your phone. He did not buy it when you said nothing. You slowly relented and he took it from you. Pressing play, he replayed the button and you flinched, the words hurting just as much if not more than the first time you heard them.

Snorting, Hank deleted the message. “Fuck him. And his condescension. You’re doing what’s best for you, and you are hacking it on your own. I say it’s about time you got a new number, Hmm? To avoid that bullshit.” Your lips parted in surprise, and he held your phone back out to you. You took it as he said, “I’ll add you to my plan, baby. We can go tomorrow. I don’t have meetings in the afternoon.”

With that, he turned and walked back towards the bathroom. He had not waited for you to respond.

<><><>

As soon as you were two weeks late, Hank brought home a test. He had stopped using condoms months ago when things had progressed. That same night, he had taken you out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate. He had taken you there before and you had adored it. That time though it was like a fog was clouding the room. You were happy, you had wanted to be a mother, and he was happy. But you were still married.

Hank had obviously been thinking about that too because a couple days later, he brought it up bluntly as he was watering his flowers.

“You should get a divorce.”

Pushing your sunglasses up, you stared at him in shock. You were reclining on a lawn chair, reading a magazine.

When you did not respond, he looked over his shoulder. You knew this conversation was coming but the knowledge of that did nothing to soften the blow.

“That seems heartless.”

“What? Fully leaving? Or are you telling me you’re planning to go back to him?” He was using that challenging tone.

“No!” you blurted. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

He turned the hose off and dropped it turning to face you.

“Y/N, he’s been in jail for over a year. You’ve already sent his shit away, he’s gotten mad about it, you don’t know if his family cares cause you aren’t at the apartment, you’re living with me. And you’re not at your old job. So, they can’t find you there. And you got a new number so no one can contact you. I think the writing has been on the wall where this is going. So what’s with dragging your feet?”

“It’s… hard.”

“A lot of things are hard, but we deal with them. Look, you’ll feel better once it’s over and done with and so will I. I don’t like knowing you’re still legally tied to that bastard. Can you understand that? Not just as the man you’re with but from an attorney’s viewpoint. It’s not good news. I’d sleep easier at night knowing he’s not gonna try to pull some shit.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest if you initiate and oversee this?”

Hank gave a brief chuckle, “No. I’m allowed to represent blood family even. I’m supposed to be unbiased of course but it’s legal to do it. I’m allowed to represent anyone.” He came closer, looking down at you on the chair. “And honestly, if I have it under my belt I represented him — that is if the bastard decides to take it to court, which I’m doubtful he will — and ‘saw the errors of my choice’ and now I’m trying to help you out, that’ll help in court.” He saw the look on your face and shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t mean to be insensitive but that’s how juries are swayed. Sob stories. And I could hit that shit out of the park.”

Swallowing, you contemplated. You had been thinking about divorce for a while. Even more so now that you knew you were carrying Hank’s baby.

You had taken too long to respond again, and Hank added, “Free of charge for you of course.”

You gave a small smile and said, “Hank… yeah, fine. I know.”

“‘Fine’? ‘You know’? Doll, you know I like you to elaborate your firm feelings.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. And I need to take a plunge. I wanna be invested in us. Fully.”

Hank nodded, “That’s better.” He nodded once more. “I’ll get them drafted up tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday.”

“And?”

“Don’t you wanna enjoy the weekend?”

Hank simpered, “What’s a weekend?”

<><><>

Hank strolled past the security gate and swooped his briefcase up. The visiting room in the prison was bare and beat up. He was seated at the table, waiting, reading emails. As soon as the prisoners were trickling into the room, he kept an eye on the door.

The moment Rich walked in, he hesitated seeing Hank. Unlike with Y/N, he ventured into the room and pulled the chair back, sitting across the table from Hank.

“Surprised you haven’t found yourself in max yet. I was expecting to talk to you through glass. Whatever works though,” Hank clipped, sitting up straight.

“What are you doing here?” Rich asked, his tone tight. He ignored Hank’s jab.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Hank said, opening his briefcase and pulling out the pile of papers. He tossed them onto the table and leaned back, waiting for Rich to respond.

Rich stared at them for a few moments and shrugged, “What are these? Early release? I thought I made it clear I didn’t want you representing me anymore.”

“Ah, no,” Hank laughed. He was unable to hold it back. “Divorce papers actually. And I’m not representing you. I’m representing Y/N.”

Rich’s face darkened and he snapped, “What?”

“She’s divorcing you now that she’s not afraid you’re gonna bash her in with a monkey wrench. You’re right here, my man. And she’s free out there.” He leaned in closer and said, “Seriously, you fucking up the way you did worked out best for everyone. She’s positively glowing.” He tapped the papers and said, “So, it’s all in here. Just need you to read it over, get your signature, and it’ll be solid.”

Rich was staring harshly at Hank and Hank could pinpoint the moment the realization washed over him. He looked murderous. “You.”

“Yeah, me.”

“You son of a bitch. Just swooping in when you saw weakness,” Rich growled, slamming his hand on the table. The guards took notice and he immediately reeled it in, much to Hank’s amusement who had not even flinched. Through gritted teeth, Rich vowed, “You’re not going to get away with this. She’s my wife—"

“Yeah, a wife you have refused to see for over a year because what? You’re mad you had to come to her rescue because you were rolling too hard to pay proper attention as she almost got assaulted? Great. Husband of the year award right for you. I’ll make sure it’s delivered.”

“I’m not going to roll over on this!”

Hank waved him off, quipping. “Take it to court then. We know how well that worked out for you last time.” He smiled cruelly, “Do you understand how even more easy it would be for me this time to get them to turn against you than the DA did last time? I could easily paint myself as the white knight and yeah, sure, you would get a day out of the prison to come to court, which might seem worth it to you, but it is worth the cost for good representation? I don’t think so. You will get the floor mopped with you and the end result would be the same.”

Rich looked furious and Hank threw his hands out. “Think about it this way. Once you’re out, you can find another woman who was just as naïve and young as Y/N and do what you will. It’s wiping the slate clean for you, fresh start. Plus, Y/N’s already pregnant, so she’s pretty settled in already with me. Don’t wanna go messing that up cause trust me, motherfucker, I will make that hell for you. I’ve got the resources to do so. And man, do I have a vendetta against your ass. So, do you really want to try me?” If Rich could look more furious. His fists were clenched on the table, shaking, but he was keeping himself from lunging across the table. Hank was even impressed; the bastard really did not want to go to max.

Clearing his throat, Hank leaned over and grabbed his briefcase, standing up. “Anyways, you can wipe your ass with that if you want, but it’s still going to go forward. And I have more copies. Just let me know what you wanna do.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and carelessly tossed it onto the table. “In case you forgot my number, champ.”

<><><>

Hank came up behind you and kissed at the nape of your neck. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“You weren’t home when you normally do it,” you told him, running the water from the hose over the hydrangeas that he cherished so much.

“I’m only thirty minutes late,” Hank chuckled.

“But you are particular.”

“That I am,” he breathed, kissing you again on your shoulder. He nuzzled in and nipped at your ear, drawing a smile out of you. “I got the papers back today.”

That caused you to stall, your hand dropping every so slightly, the water not arching as high. It had been a couple weeks since Hank had gone to the prison and all he had told you was that he had left the papers with Rich. You had not heard anything since. Hearing that he had actually sent them back signed…

He noticed your demeanor and his hands came around you, coming to your stomach. He held you protectively there and breathed reassuringly, “Looks like our family is going to be okay.”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx

#hank palmer x reader #rdj character #my shit #dark!hank palmer #hank palmer

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roselen-mylady · 3 years

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In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader °part fourteen°

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occured she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

"It's called Recover and Enable with Stark Technologies: Opportunity, Revival and Excellence. Or uh, RESTORE for short." Tony explained, the hologram capturing what they all knew to be one of his last days. "Damn, now that I say it aloud, it's a bit pretentious but we'll get used to it." He chuckled, still a little proud of his abbreviation.

"It's a resources company really. Offers financial help to families affected by the snap along with structure and aid to businesses, cooperations, hell even the government. They've always had their heads up their asses though." Y/n listened carefully, her heart stinging a bit more than usual. Maybe it was from watching yet another message from her idol and lost friend.

"It comes along with therapy and counseling. Really it's supposed to help piece the world back together. You should feel right at home. It was that aspect that told me you'd be perfect for the job. I'm sure I can help you with the other parts of the job. Or uh, Pepper will. I was never any good at running a business that was always her thing." Tony smiled fondly, the hologram's eyes seeming to stare straight into Pepper's.

Y/n could tell Pepper was fighting tears. It only made her own guilt grow.

Why did Tony have to die? It wasn't a fair question. Not to her. She should've done more, should've given her life to let him live the rest of his. To see his daughter grow up. To let Pepper finally have peace.

But what if she had? Would Bucky had even known she was his soulmate? Would he have found her body in the rumble, her shattered arm and scarred skin barely visible from the damage of the stones she should've been destroyed by. Would he have had to find out his soulmate had lost the war from her stopped countdown? Would he have had to piece together how close they were to meeting? Would he recover from that?

"We need to start soon," Pepper spoke suddenly, hastily wiping her face as she stood. Y/n watched wide eyed and silent as Pepper paced over to a man she'd learned to be Happy, quietly requesting he watch Morgan. Y/n stood, quickly moving to follow the woman.

She understood what Pepper was doing. She was avoiding the pain, putting all her effort and focus into anything but the death of her husband. Hundreds of people did it after the first snap and she couldn't say she blamed them. But it was different this time. There was no way she could've prevented the first snap, no way she could've saved all of those lives that were now returned.

But the last snap was within arms reach of her. She was capable of stopping it, sparing the last victim of the snap. But she failed.

Maybe Pepper had the right idea. This guilt was overwhelming.

"Tony set up some meetings with other corporations for Monday. I'd like you to be there with me." Pepper told her, her heels rhythmically clicking down the steps as Y/n followed carefully.

"Monday? Doesn't this seem a little rushed? I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing. Shouldn't I have some kind of lessons?" Y/n objected, her brow creasing warily.

"You'll learn through experience." Pepper replied. It was too much, too overwhelming. Y/n had just lost two friends, another left her and she'd met her soulmate. Now they wanted her to run a company that the world would eventually depend on?

How would she even begin?

In an effort to take a breath, she looked away from Pepper, her eyes trailing to the lake. It was peaceful, much more peaceful than Y/n had felt in days-years if she was being honest.

She hoped that after everything that had happened, she could just go back to being normal or as normal as someone like her could be. She didn't care about the hero's life and she didn't want to be Iron Star for any longer than she had to. But as she looked around at the others, she realized that was becoming less and less of a possibility. They looked at her as if she were next.

They seemed to know she was going to be one of them just by looking at her. But why? Because Tony took a chance on her? Because they were so similar? Or was it something else, something she hadn't seen yet?

Suddenly the calm ripples in the water were disturbed with a large splash, sending the area into chaos. A rock had broken the surface of the lake, sinking in the next second. It happened so quick and so subtly that she wasn't sure it'd even happened. The water calmed once more and the rock was lost to the bottom of the lake.

Once finding the source of the rock, her breath hitched.

He was there at the lakeside, pacing with one hand in his pocket while the other rubbed his neck. His head was downcast and he looked stressed, just as stressed as she was. That's when she realized.

He'd just met his soulmate too. After what she guessed to be almost 90 years. Nearly a century without his soulmate. He was just as nervous and overwhelmed. But it didn't mean he wasn't dying to talk to her. She could feel it, his eagerness. The way his heart ached to speak to her again even if only a few words. She wondered if he could feel her own longing.

"I need to do something. I'll be right back." Y/n excused herself, trying to be as polite as she could. She knew Pepper wanted to carry out her husband's last wish as soon as possible but they both knew he wouldn't have meant it like this. Didn't mean to leave them alone to handle it.

Pepper nodded, releasing a sigh. Everything was beginning to weigh down on her and she knew forcing more onto her shoulders wasn't gonna work this time. "Just call me tomorrow, okay?"

"I will." Y/n assured, looking back to Bucky. Pepper's expression had softened a bit following Y/n's gaze.

She remembered the first time she'd met Tony. At first he was adamant about their relationship, refusing to let her forget they were soulmates. But after what happened in Afghanistan he stopped his teasing. He stopped addressing it altogether. The trauma was too much.

Tony wasn't the same and things changed. But she liked to think it was for the better. He was a better man but he stopped seeing himself as worthy of a soulmate. He forgot what soulmates were for and it crushed Pepper.

She refused to let Y/n feel the same.

"Just meet me at Stark Industries on Monday. Have this time with him." Pepper told Y/n, motioning her head toward Bucky.

Y/n nodded softly, working up the courage to make her way to him. "Thank you."

•••

"What did that poor rock do to you?" Bucky froze at her question, whipping around to face her. She offered a soft smile, trying to break the awkwardness before it became too strong.

Bucky let out an airy laugh, looking back at the lake where he'd just thrown the rock. "Looked at me funny." He replied jokingly, turning back to her. She moved carefully toward him, coming to stand at his side a couple feet away.

He wished she would stand closer, close enough for him to put his arm around her. Close enough for him to hold her tight and never let her go. But he'd respect the distance. He'd give her space.

There was a buzz in the air as she stood there next to him, as if everything was falling into place. It felt like the atmosphere had shifted, that the stars had aligned. After all these years without her, he finally had her.

And all he could muster was, 'looked at me funny'?

"Must've been some look." Y/n replied with an amused smirk.

The silence was overwhelming but welcomed. Of course both wanted to fill it with anything and everything they could say but neither were ready for that. They each had their secrets, their pasts. They were at a conflicting crossroads.

"It's strange. I've waited my whole life to tell you everything but now I don't have anything to say." Y/n let out a strained laugh, looking down at her sling. She wanted so badly to see her countdown, to finally confirm to herself that she had him and that he wasn't going anywhere. But her countdown couldn't promise that. Only fate could keep him at her side and so far fate hadn't been kind.

"Me too." Bucky mumbled, cringing at how awkward he believed to be making things.

'Say something.' His mind cursed at him. 'Say anything.'

"You're really beautiful." He spoke suddenly, his face flushing at how stupid he sounded. He meant it of course. She was stunning despite the cuts and bruises along her features. Gorgeous even with the dirt and dried blood that traced her hairline. Enchanting regardless of the sling that obstructed her movement. She was beautiful.

But saying it aloud after only speaking a few words to one another made him feel silly. So long ago he'd call complete strangers beautiful without a second thought. But was that right with his soulmate? Were there certain things he should do? A way to act?

All his worries faded away with her smile, such a glorious thing he couldn't wait to see everyday for the rest of his life. If she would have him.

"Thank you, Bucky." His name slipped off her lips so naturally it was as if she'd been saying it all her life. And maybe she had. Fate worked in mysterious ways and his mother was a firm believer that soulmates always found one another. In this life or another. He'd never believed it but now he had. They'd found each other, despite time and despite space. They were bound to one another and he could feel that Y/n knew it too.

"I have a place in the city. It's where I was heading before...you know. Not that meeting you was an inconvenience, I honestly never thought I would. Not that I didn't want to, I dreamt of it...-I'm rambling now." She sighed. How had she managed to make it even more awkward?

"It's okay." Bucky assured, unable to stop his smile from growing.

"What I was trying to say is I'd like you to stay with me, if you want. It might be a little bit more comfortable than whatever lodging Fury is getting for you all. I have a spare room." She offered, her heart heavy with the idea of Steve being gone. He'd chosen the life he wanted. Unfortunately she wasn't a part of it.

"I'd like that." Bucky nodded, his heart swelling at the suggestion. Not only was it one of the few kind acts he'd experienced since escaping HYDRA, it was also an invitation from his soulmate into her life.

He wouldn't squander the opportunity.

"Great." Y/n smiled, releasing the breath she'd been holding upon his answer. A part of her had been scared of rejection. But she guessed things with soulmates were different. They were easier. Maybe it was the assurance that they were the right match or maybe it was just the overall feeling of belonging that came with the other's presence.

Soulmates were easy.

At least she thought.

•••

When they arrived at Y/n's apartment, she was grateful she had cleaned up before everything that had happened. She'd never brought a man home before, let alone her soulmate and she wasn't sure what to say or do. The only person that she'd even brought to her apartment was Steve and by then their conversation flowed as easily as breathing.

"You have a nice place, very um, modern?" He offered, not knowing what to say himself. It'd been so many years since he'd even talked to a woman and he wasn't even sure he knew how to flirt anymore.

"Thank you." Y/n replied quietly, glancing around the apartment as if trying to see it through his eyes. She remembered Steve mentioning the lack of photos once when he first started to live there. Did Bucky think it was weird?

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee, wine…?" She trailed off. Bucky looked at her, taking notice of her own nerves.

"Water is fine." He answered, smiling at her softly in any attempt to soothe her.

It seemed to work as she smiled back at him, turning toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Make yourself comfortable. You can watch TV if you'd like." Y/n called to him, taking a moment after pouring the glass to lean against the counter and sigh, hiding away from the source of her anxiety.

She'd always wanted to meet him. She had wanted to have him in her life from the moment she'd heard about soulmates. But what she never expected was how awkward it would be. She'd always been told that soulmates clicked instantly but they hadn't quite clicked yet. And she could tell Bucky felt it too.

Perhaps it was everything they'd been through? Maybe it'd changed them both enough to where clicking was harder? Or maybe they'd never click.

Her heart dropped at this, sending a surge of pain through her chest. Would she even be able to live with herself if they never clicked? She'd lost everyone, would she lose her soulmate too?

Suddenly a booming voice echoed from the living room, frightening her out of her daze. Quickly grabbing the glass, she dashed into the living room, plucking the remote from the wide eyed Bucky. Hastily, she muted it letting out a panicked sigh as the reporter continued on with his story silently.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry, really. Trust me that's not the first time I've had to rescue a 100 year old vet from my TV. It just seems to know who to attack." She nervously laughed, setting down the remote. The tense air seemed to relax at that and Bucky found himself chuckling along with her.

The accident, though startling at first, made her feel more at ease. It was something familiar and for the first time since their meeting, there was no awkward feeling between them.

"Here," Y/n handed the glass to him with a shaking hand, trying not to let him see how much had spilled out onto her hand when she rushed into the living room.

Bucky accepted it from her, his fingers lingering on hers for just a moment before retracting.

He could feel her but not like his hand used to. The metal digits no longer felt warmth or pain or tenderness. He could feel when something touched him but all the things that made touch special were stolen along with his real appendage. He wished he'd reached out with his other arm, that he could feel the softness of her skin, the warmth.

"I-I'm not sure how this goes. I rehearsed this a thousand times when I first got my countdown but things are so much more different than I expected. My parents always raised me on the false ideal that we'd meet somewhere cliche like a coffee shop or something." She shook her head, immediately regretting her words the moment they left her mouth.

"I don't really know either. Honestly, I never thought I'd meet you." He sighed, his heart aching with the decades he'd lived believing that he'd die before meeting her. But now she was here and he was ruining it.

Y/n frowned with him, racking her brain for anyway to save their less than perfect first day. "Maybe we should start over." She suggested, putting out her free hand to him.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Y/n L/n." She introduced, deciding there couldn't be harm in starting over. Their meeting was emotional and overwhelming and after all it was just awkward. But Y/n didn't want to remember it that way and neither did Bucky.

As she had hoped, he smiled, putting his own hand into hers and shaking it gently. "Sergeant James Barnes. But everyone calls me Bucky." He replied, his smile growing as she looked at him, her eyes conveying all the warmth she was too scared to admit.

"It's very nice to meet you, Bucky." Y/n smiled, studying the way he looked at her and trying not to let herself blush.

"It's an honor to meet you, Y/n."

•••

The rest of the evening continued this way, an occasional small bount of awkwardness along with some silence before another conversation arised. It was just like getting to know a stranger and while it wasn't what she had anticipated when she thought of meeting her soulmate, it still made her happier than she had ever been.

"So, I started to climb up the fire escape because I definitely wasn't going to wait outside in the snow storm for Steve to rescue me." Y/n explained matter-of-factly, earning a small chuckle from Bucky.

"Of course." He replied shortly, already picturing the woman before him beginning her journey up the fire escape.

"Turns out Steve was already home but he was in the shower. He got out right as I made it to the window and he nearly threw me several stories because he thought I was a burglar. He was so mad, he called me crazy about a hundred times before finally letting me in." Bucky laughed at her retelling, watching the glimmer in her eyes as she relived it.

"Like he's one to judge. When we were younger he'd lose his key all the time, had to start hiding one under a brick at his ma's apartment." Bucky told her, his heart aching slightly as he thought of the last time he'd had to help Steve. His mother had just passed and Bucky was pleading with Steve to stay with him. But Steve was independent, always had been.

"He wanted to change the locks when he found out I lost my key, which I mean, is a fair request but realistically there are about 3 million apartments in the city and the chances of someone finding this one was impossible. Also when you add Captain America into the mix, the chances of your apartment being robbed are quite slim." She explained. She still hadn't changed the locks now that she thought about it and Steve was gone.

And besides she'd survived before Steve. But it didn't make her miss him any less.

"You can never be too careful." Bucky replied, shrugging softly.

"I suppose." Y/n mumbled, looking down at the coffee table where her feet were resting. It always drove Steve crazy but it never stopped her. Yet now she almost felt compelled to do so. Some way to respect his wishes. "What was he like? Who was Steve before the serum and everything?" She asked, slowly dropping her feet from the table.

The question stunned Bucky, leaving him speechless for a few short moments. Several words popped to his mind to describe Steve but they were all things he knew Y/n would already have witnessed.

"He was selfless and brave. And stupid. So stupid. Never knew when to sit a fight out." Bucky chuckled fondly, though it faded just as fast as it had come. "He fought for me when I was on the run from HYDRA. He lost everything to save me."

"Sounds like Steve." Y/n didn't lift her gaze only offering a weak smile at her beloved friend's description.

Y/n was exhausted, so much more tired than she believed possible but given her physical state it made sense. She yawned, trying to muffle as much of it as she could, her eyes watering at how harsh the yawn had rolled through her.

Bucky hardly noticed, a bount of guilt settling on his heavy heart. Bucky didn't deserve saving. But Steve fought for him anyways. And now he was sitting next to his soulmate, the very soulmate he dared not envision a life with for fear of a broken heart.

"How weird that Steve befriended us both, nearly a century apart. And I thought fate was fucked." Y/n laughed quietly, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts. Another yawn took hold of her and Bucky noticed this time, a soft smile gracing his features as he watched her nose scrunch and her hand pathetically fail to hide the yawn.

"It's been a long day." Bucky said quietly, earning a small nod from her.

"You're right." She mumbled, trying to fight off the sleep that so desperately wanted to claim her. There was still so much she wanted to talk to him about and the few hours they had spent getting to know one another didn't feel like enough. But her body was protesting every second she spent awake.

With a silent sigh, she stood pacing off toward Steve's room to find Bucky some clothes for bed. Bucky rose from the couch to follow, taking notice of how her breathing seemed ragged, almost forced.

It worried him but he didn't say anything. Maybe this was normal? He had no idea. He hadn't thought to ask Steve about her condition and asking her now didn't seem right. So he merely watched her with a silent and concerned gaze.

However once reaching Steve's room, Bucky's attention was stolen. It was clear Steve lived in this room. Whether it was the religiously kept bed, neutral colored clothes hung neatly in the closet or the drawings and pictures strung along his walls, Bucky knew this was where Steve had spent a great deal of time.

The pictures varied in a great deal of things, from NYC buildings drawn from the point of view of the street to beautiful scenes from different cities that Bucky guessed Steve had seen during missions. But one in particular caught his eye, pinned carefully to the wall with a tack.

It was of Y/n from her shoulders up, her head slightly turned down. He found her face was quickly becoming a source of comfort. Just seeing her put him at ease and he'd only met her that day.

The picture gave him that same kind of feeling, the feeling that made his chest soft and his muscles relax. It was a way he had yet to see her, so peaceful and calm.

She was reading a book or maybe a magazine? Her eyes focused on the words but there was a daze behind them as if she were daydreaming. He wondered what she had been thinking about. Wondered why she no longer wore her hair like it was in the portrait. Or maybe she did and he hadn't seen it yet?

There were so many things he'd yet to know and a part of him was furious that he had missed all this time with her. He wanted to know her as well as Steve had, wanted to know everything that made her Y/n. He was furious with fate for stealing that from him.

"Here, these might be comfortable enough for sleepwear. But honestly none of Steve's clothes look very comfortable." Y/n spoke, sending a wary look toward Steve's closet where she'd just been.

"So, Steve lived here?" Bucky asked, under the impression that Steve was more of a frequent guest. Y/n tilted her head with a small nod, looking around at the room.

It had once been her office, the very office she used to hold her sessions in. But once branching out to old cafes, the room was often vacant. Thankfully that was around the time she met Steve and the room quickly found a new purpose.

"Yeah, I mean he still went to the compound sometimes but this was his home. He didn't pay rent but he helped out around the apartment, most of the time." Y/n shrugged, smirking slightly. "He had a thing about dishes." She spoke, raising a brow at Bucky as if he might have some sort of background on the interesting flaw.

"He used to say didn't like his fingers to get wrinkled but I always knew it was because soggy food made him sick." Bucky explained, smiling at the memory.

Never before had he met someone who knew Steve as well as he did. It had always been just them. And while he was gone it was just Y/n and Steve. Now they were desperately trying to piece themselves together. It was strange, finding someone exactly like him, yet so different.

"You know, for a guy who's seen so much violence, I didn't think that soggy food would be his Kryptonite." Y/n remarked, walking over to the bed and sitting on the side.

"Kryptonite?" Bucky asked, the word foreign to him. Was it like Vibranium?

Y/n paused. "Oh um. Superman? From the comics? He was still kind of new around your guy's time. 1938, I believe." She explained.

Bucky nodded softly, vague memories of Steve mentioning it to him resurfacing. "I remember seeing them but I never really read them." Bucky replied, watching as she adjusted her sling.

"Well, Superman's one weakness was Kryptonite. I guess Captain America's weakness is dishes." She chuckled, seemingly unaware of how distraught her condition made him.

A silence fell over them after that, nearly killing them both. It was almost annoying how badly their conversation flowed. The most at ease they'd felt with each other was when they first met. When they were in each other's arms. It took everything she had not to stand up and throw herself into him again.

"Well, I um, I'm going to um-..." Y/n mumbled, trying to dismiss the thought. Bucky nodded softly, shifting the clothes in his hands. A simple pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

"Yeah." He murmured, watching quietly as she stood making her way to the door.

There was a tension between them, the kind that made Bucky's heart clench and his brows furrow. Y/n could feel it too. But neither acted.

"Goodnight, Bucky." Y/n spoke barely above a whisper, the weight of the tension crashing down on her.

"Goodnight." He replied, his eyes trailing her until she disappeared down the hall.

The weight lifted as soon as she was gone but he soon found himself missing it. Why was talking to her so impossibly hard? He tried telling himself that with time things would get easier but time was the only thing he was no longer willing to give up. He needed to try something different.

Needed to reapproach the whole soulmate thing.

Part fifteen

Taglist:

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincessswanie

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@3aileypage

@mela-noche

@homosexual-having-tea

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Sorry for such a delayed update, I've been so busy lately but I hope to start updating regularly again! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!!

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mogsk · 3 years

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So I watched an anime called “Violet Evergarden” recently, the elevator pitch of which is basically “feral girl is taken in by military man, turned into a child soldier, military man dies, but not before telling her ‘I love you’, but she doesn’t know what that means, so after the war she becomes a ghostwriter with the ostensible aim of figuring out what ‘I love you’ means through other people’s expressions of love via letter-writing.

It’s a good little concept, and while I enjoyed it, it’s also stuck in my brain as being profoundly odd from a storytelling perspective.

Like, the initial premise is v strong, Violet’s driving objective is to understand the last thing she heard her father figure, “The Major”, say to her before she blacked out and woke up with no arms. She was a feral orphan child with little grasp of language or expression, and so she is burdened with not understanding what this very important person to her was trying to convey before they parted ways. Good shit.

And it seems to carry this fairly well at first. Each episode varies in how much it advances the central plot, but each boils down to Violet having to learn a lesson about how people express their feelings for each other, how they express love through words, or how they fail to do so, and so slowly she goes from only being able to produce very precise and terse letters which read more like military reports, to being able to swoop in and fix people’s interpersonal problems with the power of a well-dictated love note.

Where it kinda falls apart for me is about halfway through the series, where we see that Violet has more or less grown into her role as protagonist in an anime about the power of letter writing and the meaning of love (-ish). She’s gotten so good she’s tasked with facilitating one half of a romantic correspondence between the nobles of two nations whose relations are still tense after The War (which Violet fought in), and so have decided to arrange a marriage between their noble children -- a 14-year old girl and a 24-year old man.

Now up to that point, the messaging around the central theme felt odd, but it made sense, like, Violet is growing to understand love, and so how the show does this is by giving her a lot of weird and fraught situations around that theme: we have a woman who is in love with a man, but she wants to play hard to get which Violet ruins by writing a letter that just directly states ‘I have no feelings for you, please stop calling on me’. So then she goes to letter-writing school where one of her classmates has an alcoholic brother who she wants to express her love and thanks towards, but doesn’t know how to pierce the barrier of grief surrounding him due to the death of their parents in The War.

It keeps on like this p consistently, the central question “What is love? What does someone mean when they say ‘I love you’?” is addressed fairly cleanly, but then, once the issue of Violet’s struggle with being able to convey people’s emotions becomes effectively resolved, we kinda start to leave the rails!

Back to the mid-point episode, so, through trying to properly convey this 14yo princess’ feelings, Violet learns what her true feelings are. No, it’s not that she is discontent with being forced to marry a man ten years older than her because, you see, they already secretly met at a royal party when she was, like...10?? And he found her crying and was, like, “Hey kid, you okay?” and that was the first genuine expression of human emotion outside of her dutiful maid she’d ever gotten. You see, what her discontent is is that she knows the man she met, with a heart so simple and pure he feels compelled to comfort a crying child, would never write these letters, and so Violet conspires with the prince’s ghostwriter to allow them to have a more honest correspondence (which is then reprinted in all the newspapers around both countries.)

What got me about this episode is how it, like, throws all these different narrative threads in the air around this central theme of “What is love?” -- the concept of arranged marriage, the idea of confusing appreciating someone’s kindness for having other feelings for them, the MAID who is, like, the princess’ closest friend and confidant, but who has to explain that, once she’s married off, they will have to part ways because she doesn’t serve the princess, she serves the royal family and there’s this great scene where the princess is weeping after she says that and the maid is like “I cannot accept that command, I will continue standing here right by your side” and it’s really intense!

But then...it all gets dropped in the interest of the final note being...yeah sometimes you have to marry a guy in his twenties when you’re just a teenager, but love’s just funny like that ig!

Which sounds ungenerous, and like, I wanted that to be the case, I wanted it to be setting up something, like, “Despite Violet gaining proficiency in letter writing, she still is struggling to understand the more nuanced dimensions of love and so her shortsightedness will come back round to bite her in the ass” (it does not, we even get a montage of all the people she’s helped including the newly married royal couple smiling happily at the camera.)

We then get more episodes like this, where Violet’s done learning about Love and is now in effect teaching it to others. She does this by...sitting and looking pretty with a guy while they wait for a comet to go by, imitating a playwright’s dead daughter so he can be inspired to finish his play, and...writing a bunch of letters on behalf of a mother dying from anime mom disease, but who wants to be able to speak to her daughter as she grows up through a series of pre-written birthday letters.

And, like, in isolation, it’s all very moving! Each story has a very touching emotional drive to it, but it seems like the question of “What does ‘I love you’ mean?” p much falls to the wayside, even after we get the big 3/4s of the way through reveal that the Major is dead and Violet didn’t know! So we’re treated to flashbacks of their relationship, including the moment where he repeats that damning phrase!

But then we really don’t pick it back up again? It kinda superficially grows in relevance as we approach the conclusion, but it’s never again properly addressed until after a sudden spat of military drama breaks out with people trying to reignite The War and Violet suddenly having to put down her typewriter and pick up her combat knife, but now, for some reason, she refuses to kill people because...she isn’t just a tool?

And I think this is what ultimately frustrated me, is that those are two great themes “Discovering what it means to love” and “Can a person conditioned to fulfill a specific purpose ever be free to choose their own path?” but the problem is, the series really has centered itself on the former while kinda sorta implying the latter, but in the final scenes, we are suddenly given a resolution to the latter (which is basically Metal Gear Solid, “You are not your DNA”, “Just live Snake” that’s been done beautifully and with more thought already by, well, Metal Gear Solid) whereas the former, what was the entire driving force behind Violet’s character development is kinda sorta hand-waved off as “What is love? I still don’t think I know, but maybe that’s just how it is!” which is fucked up coming from someone who by the midway point is basically counselling or facilitating love between people!

So, like, I enjoyed it a lot, there were some great moments and the supporting cast, while mostly one-dimensional save for Violet herself, made for at least nice scenery, but I’m just so blown away by how they seemed to manage to forget (or ceased wanting) to tell the story they laid out in the beginning in favor of some p uniform military drama that suffered precisely because most of the series was dedicated to developing the central theme that it ultimately seemed to abandon, or perhaps came across as being burdened with having to carry into the conclusion.

Also it was super fixated on dads, like, The Major is basically Violet’s dad, his best buddy who goes on to hire Violet as a ghostwriter has a big reveal in the end that he’s been writing letters to his hypothetical future child, the sad dad playwright with the dead daughter -- I dunno what to do with all this besides the usual base level of suspicion I have for all dead-heavy content, but yeah!

There’s two movies, a side story from mid-way through the series and a sequel, and I feel like I almost have to watch them at some point, just so I can tie a neater bow on how I experienced this whole story, but yeah, Violet Evergarden, come for the cool metal typing hands, stay for the heartfelt explorations of what it means to love people, shift nervously in your seat when dads suddenly become involved!

#spoilers

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crackers4jenn · 3 years

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Dean/Cas fic recs

(a tentative list)

I've been wanting to make a fic rec post for a while, and then @electricdoves told me she was falling susceptible to the post-Nov. 5th destiel pull and I knew NOW WAS THE TIME TO SWOOP IN WITH ONE.

Canon 'verse

the careful undressing of love by dollsome - 1582 words (Somehow, in addition to just nailing that season 5 tone and characterization, dollsome is able to pack the heaviest punch in a fairly short fic. There's some killer lines in here.)

Set right after "My Bloody Valentine." Dean and Cas wait out a hard night together.

Sappiest Season by dollsome - 2698 words

In which Dean and Cas have to stop an evil Christmas tree (like you do), and it requires a little fake couple action.

Love is a Battlefield by peroxide_fic - 23,550 words (One of my favorite old school fics, from 2011. It reminds me of the Buffy episode where everyone wants Xander. TEN OUT OF TEN.)

Cas makes new friends and Dean hates them a lot.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built by MajorEnglishEsquire - 14,620 words

Castiel travels with the angel tablet and without the Winchesters.

One day, Dean gets a text from some anonymous number.

(They speak in the language of need.)

any port in a storm by microcomets - 52,738 words

The angels have fallen, leaving Castiel graceless and Dean with, well, more of other people’s problems. When a string of couples goes missing on the east coast, Dean and Cas decide to investigate—and find themselves trapped and hunted on a couples’ counseling cruise. Although battling monsters at sea is dangerous enough, sorting through emotional baggage proves to be far more deadly. (And, in which Cas embarks to find his missing grace and Dean is put out. Not necessarily in that order.)

Dead Weight State by moiraes - 10,368 words

On day eight, Castiel appeared at their front door, alone, grim-faced, and weary, and said, “I may have found something.”

Storm Windows by aeli_kindara - 3942 words

Dean knocks on the storm door. It rattles in its frame.

By the glower on Cas’s face when he yanks the inner door open, he already knows it’s Dean outside, and he’s not happy about it. Dean ignores that. Pastes on a grin and says, “Hear we’re on nephilim watch.” He pushes past Cas, dropping his duffel on the end of the couch. “You bring any board games? Think I owe you a round of Sorry.”

virtue by JenTheSweetie - 6986 words

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed. “Did you just slip me a heavenly little blue pill?”

Or, five times Cas used his angel mojo during sex, and one time he didn't.

re: purgatory oratory by ficfacfoe - 1189 words

15x09 coda - They're still sitting at that table long after Sam went to bed. Dean has some more things to get off his chest.

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx by pantheon_of_discord - 82,450 words (A PERFECT FIC. 👌👌)

Dean eases Baby down the frontage road, trying not to look in the rearview mirror as his home gets smaller and smaller behind him.

He’s done this a hundred times. He’s driven down this road in the soft morning light, heading out to some little town in some distant corner of the country. This is a job like any other.

“It’s not like we’re never coming back,” Cas says from the passenger seat.

Dean and Cas and the open road, to the tune of Led Zeppelin. A post-series story in thirteen parts.

Cuckoo and Nest by komodobits - 10,190 words

For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.

It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.

Post-15x18

we'll find a new home by sleepyvan - 7860 words

After Cas comes home, Dean starts cooking like crazy. He thinks he might be compensating for something.

Out on the Edge by goldenraeofsun - 14,130 words

Cas only knows how to love Dean Winchester from afar.

So when Dean enters Heaven, far too soon on his human timeline and tragically quickly on a celestial one, Cas does what he does best. He watches over him, catering to Dean's every need, staying out of sight.

In between those moments with Dean, though, he attends to his other duties. He heals Claire after a bad hunt. He negotiates for souls with Rowena. He drives Sam to Eileen's. But through it all, Dean never strays far from his mind, and it's turning into a big problem.

Up to Date? by whelvenwings - 5186 words

It's three months after Castiel was brought back from the Empty after confessing his love to Dean, and things are awkward between them. They haven't talked about it. Castiel can feel how much Dean wants to, but he won't let himself, and Castiel can only wait. But one night, with Castiel halfway across the world, he gets a text from Dean that might change everything - even if Dean didn't quite mean it to.

we could be the way forward by oftirnanog - 6948 words

Dean wants to catch this moment in a bottle. It’s not something he ever thought he’d have. He’s used to cooking for other people, but never with anyone. The closest he ever came was with Lisa, but that had always felt like borrowed time. It had never truly felt like his. The threat of his old life always hung over them, ready to sink its teeth in. And it had. But now? Now he might actually get to have this. He wants it so badly that part of him wants to turn and run in the other direction. He’s never wanted anything this badly in his life. He’s never let himself.

In which most of 15x20 was a dream, Cas is back from the Empty, and he and Dean take the first steps in navigating this thing called love. Also, Dean teaches Cas how to make scrambled eggs.

Torn and Reborn by thefangirlingdead - 13,503 words

Somewhere outside of Canton, Ohio, in a creepy old abandoned barn, in the middle of the night, Dean Winchester takes a step to the right. It’s just one step, but it makes all the difference in the world.

Dean lives to fight another day, talks to Sam about everything and eventually gets the reunion with Castiel that they both deserve.

The Rough by anactoria - 3267 words

Heaven can absolutely fucking wait.

The World at Large by cenotaphy - 4964 words

Turns out, Jack can't just snap his fingers and yank Cas out of the Empty. But there's always a way, and if there's a way, then Dean and Sam are going to make it happen.

This particular way involves rituals, secrets, a stabbing, and honest conversation in the dark.

Alternative Universe

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean by emmbrancsxx0 - 121,472 words (If you clicked the link and then clicked back out because you're worried this is some 50 Shades of Grey knockoff, do not be! It's delightful and funny and super well-written, with a perfect Dean POV.)

Dean Winchester is an executive assistant at an advertising agency. On the day his boss retires, he has an unforgettable one night stand with a new hire, Castiel Novak. The problem: turns out Cas is his new boss.

Highway 9 by ellispark - 38,909 words

Dean Winchester is a private investigator working what should be an open-and-shut vandalism case on an isolated stretch of rural highway.

Except it’s not an open-and-shut case, because whatever is happening on Highway 9 isn’t vandalism — it’s something far more sinister and unnatural. And if Dean is going to get to the bottom of this case, he’s going to have to rely on the one person he’s learned he can’t rely on for anything — his ex-best friend, Cas Novak.

Living in Agony by ChasingRabbits - 120,136 words

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

The World Crashing All Around by thepinupchemist - 36,300 words

During a storm in September of 1987, Dean and Sam hear something hit their roof. When they brave the backyard to investigate, they find a fledgling angel.

A story about best friendship, spoiled plans, and love, in four parts.

Ninety One Whiskey by komodobits - 401,183 words (This is my VERY FAVORITE. I read it as it was first being posted, when 'major character death' was still part of the author's plans but I didn't even care of the suffering I knew was to come because the writing is THAT captivating. Luckily it doesn't end as originally intended. It's just SO GOOD and SO WELL-WRITTEN. )

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again.

#supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #fic recs #otp: profound bond

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rk1kheadcanons · 3 years

Note

Prince AU where one of them is a prince who falls in love with the other and in order to keep him close has him be his "servant" so people don't ask why theres a commoner in the place

I love this already! I'm going to base loosely it off of an rp we're in the process of doing with two other characters in the D: BH fandom.

Elijah Kamski is the King of Cerulean Forest (a play on the color of thirium.)

Amanda is the Queen of Rosengaurd and is the mother to Connor and Ayden, the princes of their land, and Connor is the betrothed to Elijah.

Ayden had been married off to the kingdom of Jericho to the Lady of the Sword, the King's General.

King Elijah is truly intrigued at the thought of his soon to be "Queen."

Connor's distraught because he's virtuous and his King is known for all manner of dalliances with commoners of his Kingdom, including letting them reside in the castle for no other reason than the King's fancy.

Connor is supposed to tolerate this, mainly because he is a male and they of course will need an heir to the throne.

It cheapens the open love that their kingdoms supposedly boasts.

Connor cannot turn down the betrothal without facing a possible war between the countries, so he does what any sane prince in the same situation would do: disguises himself as an incoming servant, a maid no less of a neighboring King's castle.

He knows about the kingdom and the one that holds the crown there. After all, his identical twin was married off to their female Captain of the Guard. He knows he will need help but he's afraid to involve his brother since he is part of the court and still a direct link to the crown, too.

Connor packs light and secures loyal servants, no friends that keep his identity hidden as he's secreted to the kingdom of Jericho by the cover of night.

In a cart drawn by his stableman, Rupert, he's pulled into the courtyard and received by two dancers of foreign ethnicity, Echo and Ripple. They bear strong similarities and heavy accents but are not kin, rather they are lovers. They quickly usher him into the castle, blessedly unmolested by anyone.

The first couple of days he stays in the would be harem.

He finds that the King has no taste for such proclivities and converted into an area for entertainment a time ago.

He's smuggled up into the new group of King's servants as planned. What he doesn't plan on is being spotted more or less immediately. A firm yank of his arm from in armored Ayden has him having to tell his brother what was happening in their home kingdom and what he's now done by involving Jericho.

No matter how it looks, if Connor is a discoverer here, it will look like he was kidnapped from his kingdom, perhaps out of jealousy because he was engaged already to a neighboring King. After Connor explains why he ran though, Ayden promises to try to start making a preliminary injunction against the other kingdom and make look like also that the kingdom of Jericho is aware of Prince Connor's absence and are actively looking for him, that way should he be "found" here, it would not reflect badly on their kingdom.

This is all done in secret, of course, even behind Ayden's wife's back so as not to cause a stir. Ayden has contacts at home that are loyal to him still as well in court.

Connor begins working as the personal assistant to the King.

He's awkward at best trying to do anything at all. Having had servants himself from childhood, anything he does is learned on the fly. He's happy to be in the King's presence though, sure the man is not even aware of his existence.

Markus Manfred's beauty was unmatched only by his intelligence. As each day passed and he served him tea, fetched him his documents to be reviewed, Connor couldn't help but fall a little bit more in love with the man as he spoke with his counsel on the affairs of his people and maintained a lovely air about him. Connor secretly wished that he were his betrothed.

Markus happened to observe his new little assistant as well.

He was a little different, Markus mused. At times it seemed that he had no idea what he was doing or how to do it, but he seemed made up for it in his adorableness and sheer stubbornness.

Markus had caught him many times staring at him, blush staining his cheeks. He’d write it off to his unique appearance that he had. He knew wasn't every day you met a person with two different colored irises.

He simply smiled and left the servant be.

Connor excelled in the act of being a servant and found that he enjoyed the mundane tasks assigned to it. He also had forgotten how beautiful the King real was up close. He'd almost blown his cover just by staring at him in awe. The sky blue and grass green of his eyes were so bright, coupled with perfectly placed freckles on copper skin; Connor was a lost cause.

Things were going well for about a three weeks, Connor coming and going from his little home, still without a solid plan on what to do, when the official missing parchments from his kingdom complete with his face were passed out.

He hid in a cowl and slunk into work hoping no one would notice.

They did not and he was surprised that his day went about its normal routine with molestation. He puttered around the King's official office and he had not said a thing, yet the air was not awkward. Connor still was nervous as it was only a matter of time and he had no plan for what to do when discovered.

Just after he'd finished for the day, greeted the King calmly in a bow in a warm goodbye and went to turn towards the doorway, did the other's voice stop him.

"And how long did you plan on staying with the act of servitude to escape your betrothal, prince Connor of Rosengaurd?"

Connor whipped around so fast he almost lost his balance, his face in panic, a sharp contrast to King Markus who looked...amused?

"Listen, while I am sure you have your reasons and there are rumors, I don't mind you staying as you are but, do you plan to stay on the run forever to stave off the inevitable?"

Connor looked down at the floor, grabbing at his arm.

"I don't have a choice. My mother is using me as a bargaining agreement for more power from an allied kingdom. I don't have any other suitors so I am pretty much going to the only bidder," Connor states bitterly.

Markus sits back in his chair. Well, he could not let that happen. Connor was lovely and brilliant. If he was anything like his twin brother or more, which he just had a feeling that he was a true, Markus was more than happy to offer what he was going to.

“How about I become your suitor instead?”

It was the most natural thing to say.

Connor would be able to stave off Elijah and have just as good of a chance of bringing alliances and power to his family if that's all his mother cared about, meanwhile, he'd be able to date someone with who he had quite possibly fallen in love within a short period.

Markus seemed like he felt the same way, too.

Huh, calling him by his first name and not his title seemed so lovely in and of itself.

"I accept," Connor said with a small smile on his face that was mirrored by the other man.

Ayden was notified of this information and Connor was "found" in the kingdom of Jericho visiting his brother and accepting the King's offer to be his suitor.

Once Rosengaurd knew of these plans, Queen Amanda allowed for it, knowing that King Markus was a more honorable man than Elijah could hope to be.

She would allow Connor his decision on who he would marry off the two.

Of course, the decision was already made in Connor's heart.

#rk1k #rk1000 #conkus #dbh #detroit become human #ask #anonymous #🌸ask post #brief mention of my other pair north900; its blink and you miss it #I'm positive this will be continued a actual story cuz I'm vested

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

Defend - Harry Holland

Cocky!Reader is back

Cocky!Reader Masterlist || HH Masterlist

Based on a line from Melanie Martinez's song "The Principal"

* * * *

"I still can't believe she did that!" Harry sighed sadly. Sam gave him a sad smile and a small pat on the back. Rachel left Harry for a guy on the swimming team named Noah. It wasn't a normal break up. It was kinda public. After all, everyone saw Rachel and Noah together when Harry wasn't around. It was only a matter of time for Rachel to leave him and when she did, it wasn't exactly private.

"I still don't get why we're here." Rachel rolled her eyes as she and Harry took a seat.

"We need it, Rachel." Harry said as he gave a small smile at the school's guidance counselor. He decided that he and Rachel needed couple's counseling because they haven't been talking as much as before.

"Okay, so what seems to be the problem, kids?" The guidance counselor, Ms. Amy, asked nicely.

"Rachel and I haven't been talking to each other and I haven't been seeing her. It's like she's avoiding me. In fact, this is the first time I've seen her again." Harry huffed.

Ms. Amy nodded and turned to Rachel, "Is that true?"

"Yes." Rachel said.

"Why have you been doing that, Rachel?" Ms. Amy asked as she neatly folded her hands together. Rachel looked at Harry and Ms. Amy before walking out of the room.

"Oh, um, wow. I've never had a student walk out on me before." Ms. Amy said.

"I'm so sorry." Harry said before following Rachel out. "What the hell was that, Rach?!" He said loud enough for people to stop and stare.

Rachel turned around and said, "We don't need counseling!"

"Yes, we do! We need to fix our relationship!"

"No, we don't because there's no relationship to fix!" Rachel yelled. Everyone who stopped and stared gasped at what she said.

Harry was humiliated and heartbroken that his girlfriend of three months would say that. "W-What do you mean?" He asked nervously.

"I'm saying, we're done. I found someone else." Rachel said before leaving. Harry just looked down in shame and left school. He texted Sam that he wasn't feeling well and went home.

It's been a week since the break up and Harry still couldn't process it. You weren't there when it happened because you were sick that day, but your friends updated you. Now that you're back and healthier than ever, you wanted to join in the situation.

"So, who did Rachel leave Harry for?" You asked Brittany. "She left Harry for Noah. He's from the swim team. He looks really basic." Brittany left after that and left you alone.

A few minutes later, you bumped into Sam and Harry and you smiled.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Holland twins." You grinned playfully. "How're you holdin' up, Harry? I heard it was a bad break up."

"I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now, Y/N." Harry grumbled and pushed past you. It took you by surprise because he's never done that before. You looked at Sam who sighed. "Sammy, I need answers and we both know that you can give me that." You said nicely.

Sam shook his head, "Y/N, I ca-"

"I'll give you something in return. What do you want? Just name it." You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. Sam opened his mouth to talk but he closed his mouth again and blushed.

You chuckled and asked, "Sex? A blowjob? What?"

"A date?" Sam suggested. You shook your head, "I don't do dates."

"I thought that changed." Sam huffed but you shook your head. Sam stared at you and thought about it, "Fine. Sex."

You smiled, "Good! Okay, tell me the shit that you know I want to know."

Sam nodded, "Ever since the break up, Rachel has been bullying Harry. What's worse is that Noah joins in. He threw Harry in the dumpster one time and Rachel shoved mac n' cheese in Harry's face last week."

You nodded, "I see. I'll give Rachel a piece of my mind."

"What are you-"

"Relax, Sam." You leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'll be nice. Anyway, text me when and where you want your reward. I'll see you later."

You spent the whole day trying to talk to Rachel but she kept ignoring you and avoiding you. She wasn't listening. So later that day when you arrived at the cafeteria with Brittany and saw Rachel dumping her drink at Harry, you had enough and decided to get a taste of her own medicine.

You went to your table with the other cheer leaders and jocks and said, "Hey jocks. I need you for this one."

The jocks wordlessly followed you and you smirked. You walked up to Rachel who was on her way back to the swim team's table.

"Hey Rachel!" You said loudly causing everyone to shut up and look at you. Rachel stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around. "Turn around, Rachel. I know you heard me. Ignoring me doesn't make you any less ugly and everyone knows that you're fucking ugly, it's not just me who thinks that."

She turned around and crossed her arms. You grinned, "Good." You walked up to her until you were face to face. "I've been trying to get a hold of you the whole day but you ignored me. So I figured I'd just shout to get your attention. Everyone's looking at us now and don't you just love that? Are you embarrassed? Tell me. How does it feel?"

Rachel didn't answer.

"I said answer, whore." You said.

"It's embarrassing; I'm embarrassed. Are you happy?!" Rachel scoffed.

You shook your head, "Not yet. Anyway, this is what Harry felt when you broke up with him. It's humiliating, isn't it? But let's not stop here."

You looked around and grabbed the drink of the nearest table and dumped it on Rachel just like what she did to Harry not too long ago. Rachel gasped at the cold feeling and everyone laughed along with you.

"What the hell?!" Rachel shrieked. She looked around and shouted, "It's not funny!" Which, of course, caused people to laugh more.

You smirked at her before grabbing mac n' cheese from the same table you got the drink from and shoved it on Rachel's face. That wasn't enough so you smeared the greasy container on her hair and left it there.

"Oh my god, Rach. You got a little something on your face." You faked a pout before grabbing an open carton of milk that was half empty and dumped it on Rachel too. "I hope that washes out the grease and everything."

You handed the three people you got the food from some money and told them to buy their food again. You turned to Rachel again, "So Rachel, what's it like to be embarrass like Harry? Not fun, huh? I tried to make you listen but you wouldn't so, I gave you the taste of your own medicine instead."

You looked over your shoulder and told the leader of the jocks, "Throw Noah in the dumpster." The jocks immediately walked to where Noah was and grabbed him from his seat.

"Hey! Put me down!" Noah thrashed and shouted. Rachel shrieked, "Put him down!"

"Shut up, Rachel!" You shouted before you led the way to the dumpster with the jocks following you as they carried Noah. Of course, almost everyone in the cafeteria followed you including Sam and Harry.

The jocks were hovering Noah above the dumpster and you said, "Wait. I want to ask something."

"Noah, I know your mom's a single mom. and I know that she's busting her ass off working at that shitty restaurant and on her day off, she holds a garage sale just to make some extra money. Is being a douchebag a good payback for your mom?" You asked.

Noah's face flushed red when you mentioned his mom. No one knew about his family. Not even Rachel. "H-How did you know that?" Noah stammered.

You shrugged, "I know a lot of things and if you can't answer my question, here's a rhetorical one: what if I told your mother that her son's a cruel motherfucker?"

You nodded your head at the dumpster and the jocks dumped Noah in. You smiled and said, "I'm feeling extra nice today and I don't want Noah to be lonely in there. Dump his garbage girlfriend named Rachel in there too, jocks."

One of the jocks picked Rachel up and dumped her in too. Everyone was laughing as they went back in the cafeteria. Sam and Harry were just there shocked at everything that just happened.

"I hope that made you feel better, Holland." You winked at Harry. "I know I mess with you a lot, but I draw the line at shoving good food in faces and dumping people in the dumpster."

"That did make me feel better, thank you." Harry said genuinely.

You smiled and left. Sam and Harry walked back to their table in silence.

"Y/N owes me sex." Sam mentioned when they sat down.

"Dude, you ruined the moment." Harry sighed and shook his head.

* * * *

SKSKSKSKS fuck u rachel HAHAHAHAHA

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @osterfieldnholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @herbatkazmiloscia

#harry holland #harry holland imagines #harry holland imagine #harry holland one shots #harry holland one shot #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years

Text

Rainy Season

Summary: After three failed attempts at adoption and being rejected as foster parents, your marriage to Natasha is starting to fall apart. Determined to save your marriage, you and Natasha embark on a journey of acceptance for the things you can’t change.

Features/Warnings: Angst

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Request: “Hi there! Could I please request a Natasha Romanoff x fem!R fic? Where they’re married and having serious problems, like not sleeping in the same bed, R feels like her touching Nat is unwanted, fights etc and they go to marriage counseling and we see their journey through that and it’s heartbreaking? But like with a hopeful (no break-up) ending please? One part or ten parts, I don’t mind! I’d just love to see this story written after it came into my head. Thank you so much, you’re fantastic! Xx”

Notes: This is a bit different for me as far as subject matter. It’s also one of the longest oneshots I’ve written.

Word Count: 4545

The clinking of dishes in the sink and the sound of running water were the only sounds in the house. A plate sat in the microwave, waiting for someone you knew wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. She’d been on a mission for three weeks. You’d had a fight before she left. You knew from Bucky that they had returned that morning. The light caught your ring, shining brightly under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen. You sighed. It hadn’t always been like this. The stretches of time she’d spend at the compound rather than the home the two of you shared. The fights, the shrinking away from any kind of touch.

You had met Natasha at a coffee shop. Such a cliche, but it was how you’d met. You had been having the morning from hell. It was a Saturday, but that meant nothing when it came to your work. You had things to get done that kept piling up. Someone had bumped into her, causing her to spill her coffee on you and the papers you’d had scattered on the table. The two of you had gotten to talking and before you knew it, you had her number and a date.

Now, you’d been married for three years and you were watching her fade away from you. You heard the door open and close, but you didn’t bother saying anything. You focused on the dish you’d been washing for the past five minutes. She came into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame.

“No hello?” she asked. You paused for a moment.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” you said. She scoffed.

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” she said, walking over to the microwave. She opened it to see what you’d made, a simple lasagna. She scrunched her nose before going to the fridge.

“Do we have anything else?” she asked. Your grip tightened on the plate.

“No, Natasha. You’ve been away. I had a long day. Forgive me for heating up the lasagna I froze,” you snapped. You couldn’t read her expression.

“You’ve had a long day? I just got home from a three week mission. Is it too much to ask that my wife make something other than a frozen lasagna? That I get more than silence when I walk in the door?” she yelled. You dropped the plate, ignoring it as it shattered in the sink. You turned the water off before turning to face her.

“Yes, Natasha. I had a long day. You don’t have a monopoly on hardship in this relationship,” you said, keeping your voice low and even.

“I never said I did,” she replied. You raised an eyebrow.

“You implied it,” you said.

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” she said with a glare. You weren’t sure how it had gotten this bad. It was as if the fight from three weeks had picked right back up. You didn’t want to deal with it or her in that moment. You knew you would end up saying something you’d regret. You went to grab your wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Out. Don’t wait up. Welcome home, dear,” you replied. You couldn’t deal with her. Not like this. She was looking to fight and you knew it. There was a time in your relationship where you would never leave a fight unresolved, but you needed to cool off before you said something you truly regretted. You found yourself at Mo’s, a dive bar in town that was crawling with a mix of locals who were regulars and students from the local university. There was an odd mix of people in the bar. It was why you liked it.

“Uh-oh, I know that look. Meri, get this woman a whiskey on the rocks and an order of sticks,” Beth said when you sat down at the bar. Beth owned the bar with her wife Merilee, taken over from Merilee’s father, Mo. Beth was older, in her sixties. She and her wife had been together for years and got married as soon as it was legal.

“Spill kid, what happened?” she asked as Meri set your whiskey down, handing one to Beth as well.

“We had a big fight, I told you about it. She came home today. I made lasagna. She got upset about the lasagna,” you said. Beth tutted and gave you a look.

“It wasn’t about the lasagna, kiddo,” she said. You sighed. You knew that. You knew it was about more than the lasagna. About more than your work schedule or hers.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. We don’t even sleep together anymore. I sleep in the guest room, have for weeks now,” you admitted. Beth looked at you with a sad smile. You used to work at Mo’s when you were in college. She’d seen your relationship with Natasha grow and change over the years. She adored the pair of you.

“Have you tried counseling?” she asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head.

“That’s the nail in the coffin isn’t it? You go to marriage counseling to admit it’s over,” you said glumly. She shook her head.

“I’ll tell you something, kiddo. Meri and I have been through counseling. Did us a world of good. We weren’t communicating our needs and it spiraled. There was a time we almost split up,” she said. You looked at her in shock.

“But you two are so happy,” you sputtered. She laughed.

“You never know what people are going through. We have our rough patches. Every couple does. Some just need help working through them. Sometimes, ending things is for the best. Other times, it works out. You won’t know unless you try,” she said. You sat there, thinking about her words as she went around the bar checking in on people. You hadn’t looked at your phone since you walked out.

Across town, Natasha sat at the table, eating lukewarm lasagna alone. She never could figure out the right amount of time to let it heat up for. Somehow, you always managed to do it perfectly. She swore you were magic.

She knew she hadn’t been fair, but there was so much weighing on her lately. Between the team and the two of you continually struggling with the adoption process. Last time the two of you had been about to sign the papers when the mother backed out. It had devastated both of you, but Natasha put on a brave face, for you. She had been gutted. She couldn’t get pregnant and you had no interest in being pregnant.

Adoption had always been the goal but the pair of you hadn’t had luck. The state had denied your application to be foster parents on the grounds that Natasha’s job would endanger the children, no matter how much the pair of you argued that you had the means to protect the children, no matter how many people argued on your behalf. Adoption through a private agency was your only option.

She knew it tore you apart. You wanted to adopt. You wanted to be a foster parent to help those kids who couldn’t be with their families for various reasons. And she couldn’t give you that. She was the reason you couldn’t. She blamed herself even if you wouldn’t. She knew she was pulling away, that she hadn’t been fair to you. .She wasn’t surprised when Clint walked in.

“I know you Natasha. You love that woman. So do you want to tell me why you asked Tony about a divorce lawyer?” Clint asked, grabbing an apple from the counter and leaning against it. Natasha sighed.

“She’s not happy,” she said. Clint raised an eyebrow.

“Did she say the words ‘Natasha I’m not happy, I want a divorce?’ or are you jumping to that conclusion without talking to her like an adult?” he asked.

“You don’t understand,” she said.

“Try me, Tasha. Make me understand. Because you two have been off for months now. She never goes to the compound anymore. She didn’t come last time you came to the farmhouse. What’s going on?” Clint asked.

“We had an adoption lined up,” she said.

“Had...so what happened this time?” he asked. She sighed.

“What always happens. The mother decided to keep the child. Which is her right. I respect that. I just...I wish it didn’t hurt so bad. Our application to be foster parents was rejected because of me. I’m the problem,” Natasha said, her voice cracking. She was good at hiding her emotions, to a fault. Clint pulled her into a hug as she broke. He had only seen Natasha breakdown once since they had met.

“It will work out. You know how I know? Because I know the two of you. You two are two of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. Have you talked about counseling?” he asked. Natasha shook her head.

“I feel like that’s admitting we can’t work it out,” she replied.

“It’s not, Tasha. It’s admitting you need help communicating with each other and that’s okay. You two can’t keep living like this. Bucky let it slip that she mentioned she’s been sleeping in the guest room. He said she shut down after saying that and changed the subject. He said he’d just asked how the new bed was that the two of you got...Tash, how long has she been sleeping in the guest room?” Clint asked. Natasha ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

“About a month? I don’t know anymore, to be honest. I stopped counting days after the first week,” she admitted.

“Any reason why?” he asked. Natasha looked down. Vulnerability wasn’t something Natasha Romanoff often showed. Clint could see the pain on her face clear as day.

“We had a fight. The adoption fell through, we had another fight and then the mission. I thought...maybe she’d start sleeping in our room again, while I was gone. That I’d come home and we’d be okay,” she told him.

“I think you know what you need to do,” he said. Natasha nodded.

“I do,” she said.

The light in the living room was still on when you walked in a little past one in the morning. You’d had one drink and spent the rest of your time talking with Beth. You knew what you had to do. You didn’t want to lose what you had with Natasha. Not in the slightest. You looked at her as you put your keys in the dish by the door. You knew she’d been crying. Her eyes were still red-rimmed.

“Hi,” you said, your voice soft.

“Hi,” she replied, her voice raspy. You walked toward her, finding yourself sitting beside her on the couch and pulling her toward you. She wrapped her arms around you. The two of you sat in silence, holding on to one another as if the other would disappear if you let go. It was the first time in a while you had held Natasha without her recoiling.

You remembered that first time she pulled away when you went to touch her. It was after the second adoption fell through, six months before. The two of you had tried three times to adopt. That was ignoring the agencies that had denied you out of the gate because of who Natasha was. You had been attempting to adopt since the start of your marriage, knowing it could take a while.

The two of you sat in the office of the agency that had finally agreed to work with you. The person assigned to your case had a sad smile on her face as she welcomed you into her office. It reminded you of the last time the two of you had been there, receiving bad news.

“I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to say this. Ms. Carson has decided against putting the child up for adoption through the agency,” Catrina said. Your shoulders slumped as you looked to Natasha who had a blank expression. You moved to hold her hand but she pulled away from you.

“So, what now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

“You go back on the list,” Catrina said.

“Was it because of me?” Natasha asked, breaking her silence. Catrina was quiet for a moment. You knew no matter what she said next, that the answer was yes. Last time this had happened, the birth mother reached out. Saying it was nothing personal, but her family thought it wasn’t safe for the baby. Safe. As if Natasha was a danger, you thought bitterly. There would be no where safer for the child than your home. You maintained a suite at the compound, but your primary residence was a home not far from there, with more security features than anyone could ever imagine. You and Natasha had decided early on that you needed your space as a couple away from the compound, especially once you brought children into the equation. You never counted on it being that difficult.

Leaving the agency, you tried once more to take her hand, only to have her pull away. You sighed as you got into the car. The pair of you were silent on the drive home. You pretended you couldn’t hear her cry when she closed the door to the bedroom. You sat at the kitchen table, pouring yourself a drink, losing yourself in your thoughts.

You imagined a life where you weren’t shut down at every turn. At least two kids, didn’t matter if it was a girl and a boy, two boys, or two girls. Playing sports, learning instruments, teaching them to defend themselves. Maybe one becomes a teacher, another joins the team. Or maybe one decides they want a music career. In your dreams, you get approved to be foster parents. You weren’t a superhero like Natasha, but giving kids a safe place to live? You could do that. You could help like that. The two of you had just started the process of getting approved for that. You saw no reason why they would reject you, especially when you knew there were truly awful people out there who were foster parents. It was something that angered you when you dwelled on it too long.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Natasha started playing with your hair. She hadn’t done that in months.

“We need to talk, but I think we need to sleep first,” you murmured. She yawned before nodding. You stood up, taking her hand when you did and helping her up. You led her to your shared room. For the past month, you had only entered to change clothes and shower. Natasha didn’t protest as you helped her into pajamas before changing yourself. You pulled back the covers for her before moving around to your side of the bed. It was a rare side of Natasha, a side you usually saw after rough missions where she was too tired to function properly. You pulled her close, falling asleep shortly after her breathing evened out.

When the morning light streamed through the blinds, you woke to find Natasha still fast asleep, sprawled across you. You kissed the top of her head before extricating yourself from the bed. It was no easy feat to escape the bed of Natasha Romanoff. You managed to get out without waking her, something you took as a personal victory.

You headed to the bathroom, trying not to let your thoughts wander. You weren’t naive. You knew things weren’t magically fixed. As you washed your hands, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. You hadn’t been sleeping well. The previous night had been the best sleep you’d had since before you’d started sleeping in the guest room. You headed toward the kitchen, glancing back at Natasha’s sleeping form before leaving the room. You knew breakfast was in order.

When Natasha emerged from the bedroom a half hour later, she smiled when she saw you finishing cooking. You plated an omelette, putting a few pieces of bacon, some homefries, and toast on the plate before bringing it to the table along with yours. Her toast had her favorite jam spread on it. You glanced up when you heard her footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Morning sleepyhead,” you said with a light laugh. It felt normal. But both of you knew it wouldn’t last long. Anxiety twisted in your stomach at the thought of the conversation you needed to have. You knew this was make or break. You weren’t sure what you’d do if she didn’t agree with the idea of counseling. You weren’t sure if you two would make it to your fourth anniversary if you didn’t go.

“Morning,” she said, sitting down. You set a glass of orange juice down beside her coffee before sitting down. The two of you ate in silence for a few minutes before you decided to take the plunge.

“I think we should see a marriage counselor,” you said. Natasha took a bite of her food as she looked at you, head slightly tilted with a small smirk on her face. You knew that look.

“Is this breakfast to butter me up to be open to the idea?” she asked.

“Breakfast is my apology for letting you walk out that door for a three week mission without saying ‘I love you’,” you said. The two of you didn’t sit down for breakfast often. Usually it was bowls of cereal or oatmeal as you rushed around getting ready for the day.

“I think we should. I was thinking. And I talked to Clint,” she said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you telling me Clint Barton suggested we go to marriage counseling? We are talking about the same Clint Barton who on the Fourth of July thought it was a good idea to try to launch a firework from his bow, that Clint Barton?” you asked. She laughed.

“He may do stupid things, but he had a point. Everyone’s noticed something is wrong. We just...don’t want to admit it to ourselves,” she said. You nodded.

“Beth, she uh, she gave me a recommendation. She and Meri went to counseling, apparently still go every once in a while,” you said, sounding unsure. She nodded.

“Make the call. If they trust this counselor, that’s enough for me,” she said. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Natasha to have dinner with the two women. They had never had children of their own, but it wasn’t uncommon for a teenager kicked out by their family to find their way to the older women. They owned the bar in town and a good portion of their staff had at one time or another been housed by the women for one reason or another.

Another month found you in your fourth session. Natasha had requested to be kept off longer missions for the time being unless it was unavoidable. The first session had been your standard getting to know you session. The following two hadn’t seen much progress. You both beat around the bush on the elephant in the room. Dr. Reynolds had you write down questions you wanted to ask each other. Yours went in one dish, Nat’s in another. You stared at Dr. Reynolds when she read Nat’s question.

“Pardon? Can you repeat that?” you asked, unsure if you heard her correctly.

“Would you still love Natasha if you never are able to have children or foster?” she read. You looked at Natasha.

“Nat?” you asked, your voice soft. She looked down.

“I know you want to adopt. I want to too. But every time we’ve tried,” she said. You moved to cup her cheek as she turned to look at you.

“Natasha. I love you. I chose you. I’d love you if your skin turned green and your sprouted goat horns and an extra five eyes. Yes, I want children. And I still believe it will happen for us. But if it doesn’t, that doesn’t change my love for you. Some things are out of our control. Does it change your feelings for me if we don’t have kids? If we never get to be foster parents?” you asked.

“No...but I’m the one who’s the reason why it’s fallen through every time. I’m the reason why we can’t be foster parents,” she said.

“And I don’t care! Natasha, I love you. And that’s not changing. The fact that you think I’d leave you because of things that are out of our control, that hurts. That hurts. I know it’s a dealbreaker for some people, but Natasha, you are my person. I don’t walk away just because life isn’t going how we hoped. One day, we’ll expand our family. I know it. Maybe it won’t be how we planned, but...it will happen,” you said.

“I feel like I’m holding you back,” she admitted. You shook your head.

“You aren’t. Do you trust me?” you asked.

“Of course I do,” she said.

“Then believe me when I tell you I’m not going anywhere,” you said. It was a draining session. The pair of you were drained by the time you walked in the door. Natasha held up three menus and you pointed to one at random. She nodded and went to order your dinner, knowing it’d be a bit before the food arrived.

The two of you ate in silence. It had been a long day. You and Natasha had agreed in counseling to give it one more try with adopting. You weren’t sure you could handle another heartbreak, and you knew she was feeling the same way. After dinner, you went for a walk with Natasha. This time, you were keeping the news about the adoption to yourselves, not wanting to get your hopes up. The agency had reached out saying they had someone who had chosen the pair of you to adopt their child. You could only hope they wouldn’t back out. You had met with the woman and her boyfriend, that morning, two young kids barely out of high school.

“Why did you choose us?” you asked after you had been introduced to Michael and Danielle. They shared a look and he squeezed her hand in comfort.

“When we saw you two on the list...we knew there was no other option. Our child will be safe with you two. We know it. They’ll be loved and well cared for. Dani...she didn’t have the best childhood,” Michael said. Natasha’s brow furrowed. Recognition flashed on her face and you gave her a confused look.

“You were in the Red Room,” Natasha said quietly.

“Until a woman and her family came and saved me when I was a child,” Danielle said with a nod. You understood in that moment why they had chosen you.

“We aren’t ready to be parents. But we know the two of you will love and protect them,” Michael said.

“Of course we will,” you said. You dared to allow yourself to fill with hope. This time was different. You knew it.

The two of you walked in silence, your hands laced together as you walked through the neighborhood. You smiled as you saw your neighbors in their yard with their kids, allowing yourself to imagine when it’d be you and Natasha doing that. She squeezed your hand and looked at you with a small smile.

You knew a child didn’t fix things, you weren’t naive. But you and Natasha had seven months. Seven months before the baby would be here. Seven months for things to fall apart with the process again, but you refused to allow yourself to think of that. The stress the process had put on your relationship was impossible to deny. But you had hope. It would work out.

It was another three sessions until the two of you opened up to Dr. Reynolds about the pending adoption. Neither of you had told anyone. Not Clint. Not Bucky. Not even Beth and Meri. You were both afraid that talking about it would jinx it, that Michael and Danielle would decide to keep the baby or decide that they didn’t feel comfortable with the Black Widow raising the baby.

“Have the two of you talked about it outside of meeting with the couple?” Dr. Reynolds asked. You both nodded.

“A little. We’re trying not to get too excited. We know a baby won’t fix us. We know a baby might complicate things more. But we feel like we’re heading in the right direction. This is what we’ve wanted for years,” Natasha said.

“I’m scared. I’m scared that we’ll allow ourselves to be excited, and the rug will be pulled out from under us again and break us. I don’t know if we can handle another heartbreak,” you admitted.

“That’s a natural reaction, especially in your situation. The two of you are in a much better place than you were two months ago when you first came to see me. Don’t get me wrong, there’s always progress to be made. But you both are in a much better place,” Dr. Reynolds said.

You left the appointment feeling lighter. You and Natasha decided to head to Mo’s after. The bar had good food, and you both wanted to talk to Beth and Meri.

When the two of you sat down at the bar, you saw the look Beth gave her wife. You weren’t surprised when a plate of mozzarella sticks ended up in front of you.

“Well aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes?” Meri asked. You smiled at her.

“We’ve been busy,” you said.

“How are things?” Beth asked.

“Good, really good,” Natasha said.

“Actually, that’s why we came in. Natasha and I...we think...we think this time it’s going to work out,” you said, keeping it vague. You saw both women light up.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful! You two, you deserve all the happiness this world can give you,” Meri said.

“I think this calls for the good stuff,” Beth said, turning to find a bottle. You shook your head with a laugh as she grabbed a bottle to pour four shots. She may have been in her sixties but you knew better than to think her days of taking shots were over. The four of you clinked glasses before taking your shots.

You looked over at Natasha, a smile wide on your face. Things hadn’t been easy, but life rarely was. The one thing of which you were absolutely certain of was the fact that you loved her and you would never stop loving her.

Seven months later, the two of you brought home your baby, your daughter. The road had been hard, but in the end, as you sat on the couch with your wife and newborn, it was worth every bump. As the baby started crying Natasha took her from your arms.

“I’ve got her. Go take a nap. I know you had a rough few days while I was away,” she said before leaving the room. ‘Yeah. This was worth it,’ you thought with a soft smile on your face as you stood up to head toward your room.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff/reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov/reader #natasha romanov x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel reader inserts #black widow fanfic #black widow reader insert #black widow/reader

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champhangman · 3 years

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Recipe for a Perfect Christmas - Part 9

Title: Recipe for a Perfect Christmas Part: 9/12 Theme: Day #9: Tree / Decorating Fandom / Character(s): AEW / Nick Jackson x OFC Warnings: None. A little cursing? Word Count: 4,585 Soundtrack: Spotify Previously: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Summary: In the space of six months, Natalie Gibbs lost her fiancé, her job, her apartment, and what little bit of cheer she had. Moving back home after being on her own for years, she hopes to get back on her feet after the holidays. But a nosy best friend, a stubborn coot of a father, and a handsome new neighbor might change her plans, her holidays, and her life. Notes: My entry for day 9 of @12daysofchristmas

The Tag Crew: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980 / @champnick / @edgecution / @nething4perfection / (please drop me an ask/send me a message/reply to my post if you’d like to be tagged)

***

Part 9 – Grown A Little Colder

Natalie stared at the long box sitting in the foyer while the UPS driver walked, whistling, towards his big brown truck. Confused, she found enough clarity to shut the front door then turned and continued to stare at the box. Along the side, in bold letters, were the words that told her what the box contained, but she couldn't quite believe it. It was addressed to her father, who hated artificial trees, so there had to be some sort of mistake.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and checked the time. Just after eleven, which meant he would be leaving the bakery in about an hour. Thursdays were half-days for some reason she had never understood. She wouldn't bother him at work. She would wait until he got home and start questioning him. There had to be a logical explanation. He'd bought it as a gift for someone? He was going to put it up outside? He'd bought it for the bakery – No, that couldn't be it, there was already a tree up at the bakery. She and Kris had decorated the previous day, Kris going so far as to make paper Santa hats to go on the photos on the walls.

She gave her head a shake and pushed the box out of the walkway. Maybe he had bought it because when they'd gone to buy a real tree he hadn't liked any of the ones available. She had thought the plan was that they'd go out to the tree farm outside Fairview and pick one out there. Pushing the boxed tree out of her mind, she went upstairs to get laundry. She was distracted by her laptop, which sat on her old desk mocking her for not opening it but once since she'd gotten to Bells Creek. With a sigh, she picked it up and sat on the bed, ignoring the urge to go to Facebook and take a peek at life in Halifax.

It wasn't as though anyone from there had done more than send her two or three texts in the first couple weeks to see how she was. She had hoped someone would think of her if they heard of a job opening that fit her skills, but either there were none or no one had thought of her. Going to sites with job listings, she began clicking through page after page and grew more and more disheartened. The jobs that were available required more experience than she had, or more education that she'd attained. And all would require her to move to Halifax, Richmond, Charlottesville, D.C., Atlanta, New York…

Did she want to move?

Before she could ponder that question, her phone began to ring. She pulled it out and smiled at the sight of Nick's name.

She wasn't sure she wanted to move.

"Hey," she greeted after accepting the call. "Working hard?"

"Not anymore," he quipped with a chuckle. "I just put in the last strip of baseboard in the master bedroom."

"Really?" The news cheered her. This meant the house was officially finished in time for Matt and Shayna and the kids to move down for Christmas. She knew it would be a wonderful surprise for them, because Nick had said he'd told them it wouldn't be ready until right before New Year's.

"Yep. It's done." He gave a tired, relieved sigh. "I gotta clean and finish getting the decorations up, but it's done. I'll do that today hopefully then surprise them tomorrow when they come down."

"That's great, Nick," she enthused, closing the laptop and shoving it aside. She didn't want to relocate.

"I was thinking…"

"Oh?" she asked when his voice faded and she heard him clear his throat. "You didn't hurt yourself did you?"

"Ha-ha," he muttered.

"What were you thinking?"

"We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what? You finishing the house?"

"Yeah. Maybe dinner? I could cook for you."

"Sunnyside up eggs and toast?" she asked with a grin.

"I can cook more than that," he said. "Nothing fancy."

"I don't like fancy."

"Then I'm definitely your guy." His grin was evident in his voice.

Her guy. She liked that. "Dinner sounds great. What time?"

"You can come over whenever. I'm kinda hoping you'll take pity on me and help me with the decorating."

Natalie laughed. "So dinner's payment."

"And celebration."

"I'll be there in a few hours. Dad will be home in a little bit so I'm gonna make sure he eats a proper lunch and I have a couple chores to do." The laundry mainly. She wasn't sure yet how two people went through so many clothes and towels. Pushing herself off the bed, she went to grab the hamper. "I'll text you when I'm on the way."

After a few more minutes of chatting, during which he hinted that he'd like her to stay for more than dinner, she ended the call and tossed her phone onto her bed. Her steps were light as she went downstairs to start a load of laundry, and she had turned on the old stereo and put on a CD of her favorite Christmas crooners when her father got home. Bouncing into the foyer, she grinned when he shook his bright red knit cap at her in time to the music.

"For I've grown a little leaner, grown a little colder, grown a little sadder, grown a little older," he sang with a nod. "And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder. Need a little Christmas now…"

She remembered a time when the instrumental break meant he would grab her hands and lead her in a dance. She thought of the appointment made for three days before Christmas, when they would schedule his surgery and run all the necessary preoperative tests. Had she known how to properly pray, she would have prayed that he would be able to dance with her next Christmas. "Hey," she said, moving forward to kiss his cold cheek. "This box came for you."

"Doggone it," he sighed, looking down at the box. "I was hoping it wouldn't come until this afternoon."

"Is it for your second family?" she teased.

"No, I got to thinking…" He took off his coat and hung it up, then reached for his cane. "I don't have it in me to keep up with a real tree this year. Watering and trimming and then dragging it out."

"I would—"

"And, well," he went on, tapping the box with the tip of his cane. "I went to see Tommy the other day and he has one just like this. It's real pretty when it's plugged in and decorated. So I ordered it."

"A fake tree is never coming into my house," she stated. "I'd as soon throw Granny Wilma's old ornaments into the fire than I would have a piece of plastic that doesn't even look like a tree."

"Ah," he grunted with a shrug. "Always got my own words to throw back at me."

"Can we put it up today?"

"You can, I'll sit on the couch and direct."

"I knew you'd say that," she muttered, beginning to push the box into the living room.

Chuckling, he carried the folder he was holding into the living room and set it on the small table next to his chair. "While you get started I'll go heat up some lunch."

"Wait, no, Dad, I'll—"

"I feel good today, sugar."

"Okay," she relented.

She had to move the console table in front of the front window where the tree always went. She had just pushed it into the dining room to deal with later when she heard the microwave beeping. Knowing her father lingered over his lunch if he didn't have to go immediately back to work, she took her time finding places for the knickknacks that had been on the table. The potted plant she carried to the foyer, planning to carry it up to her room later. She put the framed photos of her grandparents on the bookshelf, and carried the small silver-framed picture of her mother to set it on the table next to her father's chair. Reaching into his pencil cup to find the box cutter he kept there, she groaned as several pens spilled to the floor. When she bent to retrieve them her arm brushed the folder, sending it and its contents to the carpet as well.

She shoved the pens back into the cup then gathered the scattered papers. About to push them into the folder, she paused when she saw the letterhead of a lawyer in Halifax. That made no sense. Her father's attorney was based in Fairview. Her eyes dipped and scanned the opening paragraph of the letter.

As per your vocal agreement with my client, Matthew Jackson, during our conference call on November 22, I have had the enclosed contract drawn up. Please peruse at your leisure, and feel free to contact me with any questions. I encourage you to confer with your counsel, Mr. G. E. Jefferson before our meeting to sign, notarize, and transfer the first payment on December 18. I ask that you please note the following points:

Matthew Jackson. Matt. Before she could stop herself, she turned to the next page, heart leaping to her throat at the bolded words that leapt out at her. Her father's name, then Matt's, then Gibbs' Bakery. Struggling to understand, she sat back on her heels and read the page slowly, hand slipping over her mouth to cover her shock as it sank in what she was reading.

Matt was buying the bakery. Not outright, if she understood the wording correctly. Her father was transferring everything into Matt's name after a down payment, then monthly payments of a base amount, a small percentage of sales being added for the first fiscal year. After which time the percentage would be terminated, and the monthly payments would continue until the agreed-upon price was paid in full.

The papers slipped from her hand and she didn't pick them up. Her father was selling the bakery. The bakery, which had been in his family for three generations. The place he had once said he wouldn't close until the day he drew his last breath. She supposed that statement had been true, as it wasn't technically closing. But why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't anyone mentioned it?

"Natalie, sugar, is there anymore of that pie from last night?"

He sounded so normal. As though he weren't effectively ripping her heart in two. As though he hadn't outright lied to her, because hadn't he shrugged off her questions about what business Matt was buying? He hadn't said a word about thinking of selling, and she knew that was partly her fault for not keeping those lines of deep communication open. It hurt, though. It hurt as bad as, if not a little worse, than him keeping how damaged his knee was from her. She had at least known his knee was bad, had known he needed surgery. But to keep this from her completely? To pretend nothing was going on? Why?

Snatching up the papers, she lurched to her feet and went into the kitchen. Her father was at the island counter, dishing up a slice of the pie they'd had for dessert the night before. He glanced up when she sucked in a breath. His brow furrowed, his smile faded, and when he saw what she was holding the pie slice fell to the counter.

"What's this?" she gasped, slapping the papers down across from him.

He looked at them, then up at her. "Sugar—"

"You're selling the bakery."

"I have to."

"Why?" Natalie blinked hard to keep the sting of tears at bay. "Because of your surgery? Because you'll be out for a couple months? I'm here now, remember? I'm not—"

"You're looking for another job. You'll find one. Maybe not right yet, but you will. And you'll get it, because you're brilliant and people like you. And then you'll be gone." He lowered his head. "Again."

"Dad…"

"I'm not doing it because of the surgery. I know it could stay afloat with me having to take weeks off for recovery. I didn't plan on you coming home, but I had talked to Sammy and Kris and they were willing to work longer hours to keep things going until I could get back. And now you're here, and you're doing great. But—" He sighed. "There's no guarantee the surgery will go well."

"Dad, they do millions of joint replacements a year."

"Yeah, but not on my joints. Accidents happen. Doctors make mistakes. Old hearts give out. It's a fact, Natalie."

"Don't talk like that," she pleaded. She couldn't take it. Not right now.

"I'm not being depressing. I'm being honest with myself. Yes, it could go great and next year at this time I'll be dancing on air. But it could go bad. And I'd have to close up the shop."

She opened her mouth to point out that she was with him, that she was helping, that she could obviously do the work needed to keep the bakery running. Then she remembered that she hadn't been at home when those fears and worries had festered in his mind. She hadn't been around when he had made the decision to sell. And he was right. She was looking for another job. And even though she was disheartened, she knew she would eventually find something. She might even leave again, if she had to.

"When you were born, I only wanted one thing for you," he said, haphazardly scraping the dropped pie onto the plate. "I wanted you to be happy. Yes, I wanted to raise you into a baker like me, like my parents were, and my grandparents, and my great-grandparents back in Italy. I knew you would be our only child, and looked forward to the day I could hand the keys to you. But you didn't want that."

"Oh, Dad, I'm—"

"Don't apologize for not wanting what I wanted for you. It was my dream, not yours. You had your own. I knew you didn't want the bakery, and I knew I didn't want to close it down. I hemmed and hawed for months. I couldn't tell Ashley I was thinking of putting it up for sale, because she would have broadcast it over town before I could walk out her office."

Natalie choked on a laugh. Ashley was wonderful, and her truest, best friend, but she did have a bit of a tendency to blab.

"Then one day this young family comes in. It was a slow day, and they were nice, and we got to talking. Matt's always wanted to own a bakery. He and his wife both have always wanted to live in a small town. He knows about running a business, he's got a good head on his shoulders, and he's damned good at baking."

"Is he?"

Leonard picked up a dishtowel and wiped the counter clean. "Him and Shayna came the next weekend and he showed me some of his recipes. After I closed for the day we went to the kitchen and…" His smile was almost one of pride. "He's better than I was at his age. Then they found the Harris place was for sale, and when he showed up to talk to me about getting a job right when I was thinking of calling Ashley to talk to her about selling, I figured it was fate."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"At first I didn't think you'd care."

"Are you crazy? Of course I'd care."

His eyes steeled. "The day before you moved out to go to Halifax, you said—"

"I know what I said," she whispered. It had been almost ten years but the memory was fresh. Her telling him she'd gotten a part-time job at a magazine, and that she was leaving the next day to get an apartment and have her college transcripts transferred so she could finish her degree in Halifax. Her father asking who he was going to get to replace her at the bakery. And her answer, bitter and cold.

I don't give a damn about the bakery.

"I give a damn now," she said in a small voice. Too little, too late, she knew, but it was true. She did care. She had even then, but she'd been too wired up on the chance to grab her dreams that the words had spilled without censor. Maybe she hadn't cared as much as she did now.

"I have to do it, Natalie." He kept wiping the counter, and she remembered him repetitively kneading the dough he'd been working when she'd announced her sudden move. And the thudding clang when he'd thrown the overworked dough into the trash.

"Who else knows?"

"Tommy. The lawyers. The bank. And a few folks down at the county office, because I went last week to put his name on the license."

"Does Nick?" she asked.

"Of course, he's Matt's brother." Her father stopped wiping. "I thought he would tell you if I didn't."

"He didn't." She wondered why. And, suddenly, she needed to know. Spinning on her heel, she left the kitchen, ignoring her father's voice when he asked where she was going. She went straight for the front door, snatching a coat from the rack and pulling it on while shoving her feet into her boots.

"Natalie."

"I have to go out for a few minutes."

"Don't be mad at him."

"I'm just going to talk to him."

"He's a good man, sweetie. He probably didn't want to get mixed up."

"He should have thought of that before sleeping with me," she snapped, jamming a hat on her head.

"Natalie—"

"I'll be back later. We'll put up the tree." Not that she felt like decorating. Or celebrating. Flinging open the door, she stepped outside and closed it firmly behind her. Fueled by indignation, she ignored the brilliantly colored Christmas flags snapping in the breeze and the vivid red ribbons adorning lampposts and wreaths as she walked up the street. She passed the bakery and felt her heart break all over again. Matt would change everything, she thought, stopping to look at the shopfront. The battered old counter that her great-grandparents had built and installed themselves, where each member of the family had carved their name with a pocket knife. The photos and knickknacks that had been added to over the years, showing how it had changed with each generation. Blinking back tears, she turned and proceeded to the yellow Victorian on Halifax Street.

She barely heard Penny's bark of greeting as she marched up the walk. Stopping short when she saw Nick standing on the porch railing, she watched him stretch out one arm, then caught the multicolored glow of a strand of lights. Something bumped into her leg and she looked down, finally noticing Penny. She gave the dog a distracted head rub, watching as Nick stepped off the railing.

"Hey," he greeted, looking and sounding surprised when he saw her. "What do you think?"

"Looks great," she said flatly, resuming her march up the walk. She saw lights wrapped around the step railings, and saw the sunlight glint off lights in the shrubbery in front of the porch.

"Come on in," he said, opening the door. Penny, panting, darted from her to the door then back again, tail wagging manically, as though Natalie needed an escort. Nick waited until she'd stepped inside before entering, closing the door gently. "Did you forget to text? Not that I'm complaining, but—"

"What business is your brother buying?" she asked, eyes on the stacks of clear bins in the front hall. Each were labeled neatly, and she could see inside to what were countless decorations. Decorations she had agreed to help him put up and arrange. Through the living room doorway she could see a large tree set up in front of the window, and on the couch was covered with boxes of ornaments.

"Oh." Nick's joviality faded.

She turned to face him, anger surging again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Natalie, let me explain."

"Okay. Explain."

"I knew it was a secret, okay? Matt told me that Lenny didn't want everyone in town knowing. Because there would be a million questions that he didn't want to have to answer every time someone came into the shop."

"I'm his daughter," she reminded him. "You could have told me."

"Exactly. You're his daughter. He should be the one to tell you."

"He didn't."

Nick's brow pinched. "Then how—"

"I saw some papers from a lawyer and…" She huffed. "Okay I knocked them down while getting something then saw what they were. Some contract they're apparently going to sign this Friday."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, Matt wants me to go with him."

"You should have told me, Nick. God, you listened to me go on and on about how I was getting the hang of the bakery stuff. You even let me talk about placing an order for supplies. Supplies!" She groaned, cupping her hands over her head. "Supplies that your brother probably doesn't want or need—"

"Natalie—"

"You knew I was doing everything I could to help Dad! You didn't think to tell me that I didn't have to worry? That by the end of the year it wouldn't be my problem?"

"I thought about telling you. But it wasn't any of my business. It's a deal between Matt and Lenny, I'm not involved."

"Okay, but you're involved with me. That makes it your business," she pointed out. "God, did you have a laugh over how I was staying up late studying paperwork to know what I needed to do while Dad was recovering from surgery?"

"I would never laugh about something like that," he said, frowning. "If anything it's made me admire you more. Because you told me you used to not care about the bakery. That you were so glad to be gone from it when you got your chance to leave. But I've seen how happy helping Lenny makes you. And how happy it makes him. I know not telling you has been eating at him—"

"Yeah, he's been real torn up," she snorted. "I've been such a fucking idiot."

"You haven't," Nick insisted. He stepped toward her.

"I have. I've been losing sleep and getting headaches trying to take a crash course so I could keep the bakery going for him. I've got so many notes on what gets done when…" Jamming her hands into the pocket of her coat, she felt slips of paper and pulled them out. The notes she had made the evening before, on times and temperatures, and how many folds she had done on the croissants. Crumpling them into tiny balls, she dropped them to the floor. "And for what? Nothing. Because in a couple weeks it'll be Matt's job to do it. He'll do everything differently so he won't need my notes. He'll change everything from the name to the prices to how the inside is decorated—"

"He's not changing anything."

"Yeah, right." Snorting again, she stepped away when he reached for her arm.

"Natalie," he sighed. "He doesn't want to change a thing because he loves how it is now. All he wants to do that's different is put a picture of himself on the wall and add a few of his own creations to the menu."

"First it'll be a picture and a few of his things, then it'll be changing the décor and fazing out all the things my Dad created."

"Honey, please—"

"Don't call me that," she gasped. "You and Matt just breeze into town and take everything, don't you?"

"What?" He made a gurgling sound that sounded like a swallowed laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The bakery. This house. The dog," she said, though Penny had hurried out when she'd begun her ranting. "Me."

"We didn't – Natalie, you're upset."

"Of course I'm upset! Wouldn't you be?" Staring up at him when he didn't answer immediately, she shook her head. "I'm beyond upset. I'm pissed off. Mostly at you!"

"Why me?" he asked gently.

She wanted to scream because he was being too calm. Did the man never get mad? "God, Nick, I opened up to you! I told you things I've never told anyone. And then I slept with you. Right there!" She flung one arm out to gesture at the living room. "And never once during any of that did it occur to you to tell me what was going on behind my back?"

"It wasn't my business to. I knew it would upset you, and I knew it would strain the relationship between you and Lenny. I couldn't do that to you, not when I've seen how hard you've both been working to rebuild it."

"We were building something too," she whispered.

"Were?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Were." She sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to cry.

"Natalie, don't—"

"Not anymore."

"Please, no, let's talk about this," he said, frowning when she shook her head.

"I gotta go," she gasped. She was going to cry. Her throat was closing up and her nose was burning.

"Can we talk later?"

She turned her head, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes. And she didn't want him to see her cry. Again. "No," she said dully. "I've said everything there is to say."

"But—"

"Goodbye," she managed, pushing past his arm when he reached for her. Opening the door, she flinched when she heard the clicking of Penny's claws on the floor behind her. She pulled the door shut, heart squeezing at the sound of a little whine. She almost turned back, almost reached to open the door and say that yes, she did want to talk about it. Instead, she crossed the porch and went down the steps, keeping her eyes in front of her. When she reached the sidewalk she quickened her steps. She didn't know where she was going, exactly. She wasn't ready to go back home and see or talk to her father. And she couldn't go back to Nick. Tears escaped and she angrily brushed them away, following the sidewalk to the corner. She heard bells ringing, and a car that drove by had a festive bow on its antenna.

She continued walking, head ducked, ignoring the few people that greeted her. When she reached the tiny building down the next block from the bakery, a block from where Main Street turned back into Route 1110, her steps slowed. She saw the familiar Land Rover parked out front and before she could think of a reason not to she pushed open the glass door and walked past the receptionist, who barely looked up from her magazine, and through the open door of the office at the back.

Ashley's face registered several emotions in succession. Surprise, happiness, shock, worry. "Natalie? Babe, what's wrong?"

Natalie opened her mouth but couldn't figure out which words to say first. Her friend frowned, tossing her phone onto the desk and standing. Then she was walking around to where Natalie stood. Reaching to close the door. And when her arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace Natalie let her tears fall.

#aew fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #my fics #multipart: RPC #12daysofchristmas #late omg #but better late than pregnant???

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winryofresembool · 4 years

Text

Caleo one-shot: Back in Waystation

Warning: Tower of Nero spoilers! Do not read past this point if you don’t want to know anything that happens in the book!

Summary: Calypso returns from the band camp and she and Leo finally sort some things out (Post ToN).

A/N: Here’s the 'fix it' fic I promised. Like I said in one of the author's notes of TWLitF, I feel like Rick did these two very dirty in ToA, especially in the end when he left things so open ended. It would have been better for both characters if he had made them, you know, deal with their issues. I know this fic ended up being very sappy but it was something I myself would have liked to read so... I hope you guys enjoy it too.

Also, since this fic has taken a lot of my writing time for the past 2ish weeks, I'm not going to post a new chapter for TWLitF tomorrow. But worry not because I am hoping to post normally again next Thursday! Stay tuned!

Don't forget to let me know what you think of this fic!

Words: 4100+

genre: fluff, slight hurt/comfort (you know, the usual)

warnings: none

AO3

...

It was already late August. The weather had started getting slightly cooler in Indianapolis and people were getting prepared to go back to work and school after the summer vacation. Even Leo was preparing for the start of the new high school year; he had finished his community service teaching the homeless kids shop skills a week before and gone to buy some supplies for the school year. Now all that was left to do was waiting.

If the young demigod was totally honest to himself, he was getting a bit antsy. His girlfriend had been gone for pretty much the whole summer, counseling at a band camp and not telling him when exactly she would be back. If ever. Leo was worried that she’d meet someone way cooler than him at the camp and just leave some message that he shouldn’t be expecting her to return.

Before she had left, things had been complicated between them; they had been arguing quite a lot and Leo hadn’t exactly been his usual self after returning from his trip to California. He had found out about the death of his best friend Jason and accompanied the heartbroken Piper to her new home before flying back to Waystation where the information about Jason had fully sunk in. Unlike Leo himself, Jason would never be back.

Calypso had never known the son of Jupiter and she didn’t know how strongly his death had affected those who had known him. That’s why Leo felt like he couldn’t show his mourning to her and for a few weeks after his return he had been pretty withdrawn. Instead of going back to school with Calypso he had been tinkering in Jo’s workshop until Jo had dragged him out of there and forced him to take care of himself, to eat, to shower and so on. She had also been the one to suggest the community service for Leo, and after considering it he had finally decided it could be a good idea. Having something to do that forced Leo to leave the house had a positive impact on him and even though he still missed Jason, he also knew that Jason would be mad if he didn’t try to move forward, so he did. That led to Leo’s current issue, Calypso. He wished he would have had an opportunity to talk with her properly before she had left….

Loud clanking pulled Leo back from his thoughts. He was in the workshop again, this time with Jo and Georgie, trying to fix a part of Festus’ wing that had broken when one of Leo’s homeless pupils had accidentally thrown something at it, not knowing Festus was there. Jo was instructing Georgie with something that looked way too dangerous in the hands of a 7-year-old but Leo knew from experience that since she was a demigod (suspected to be Apollo’s daughter), she would have to learn to fight sooner rather than later. Waystation may have been a safe haven for demigods but Georgina wouldn’t be able to hide from the monsters forever.

Leo was going to ask Jo’s opinion on how to make the wing part more durable when the workshop door opened. Expecting it to be just Emmie who would tell them the dinner was ready, he didn’t even turn to look at the newcomer. But soon he felt weird tingling on his skin that had absolutely nothing to do with Emmie as he smelled the very familiar cinnamon scent and realized that the steps were lighter than the older woman’s.

“Hi,” he heard a soft voice say and he finally turned around to see his girlfriend standing right behind him. She was smiling at him, although slightly awkwardly, probably as unsure about their situation as he was. A hundred different emotions rushed through Leo as he took her in; happiness, nervousness, uncertainty… and how had he forgotten she was so damn pretty? When he didn’t say anything for a moment, she tilted her head slightly, looking at him expectantly. Finally the gears started moving again in Leo’s head and he spread his arms, leaping into a hug.

“You late, Sunshine,” he mumbled against her shoulder as he tightened his arms around her. Calypso recognized the reference to what she herself had said back on Ogygia and couldn’t stop her smile from widening a bit as she responded to Leo’s hug. He probably would have kissed her on the mouth too but Jo and Georgina’s presence made Leo a bit self conscious about showing affection and he ended up kissing her cheek instead. “Missed ya,” he whispered after that.

Eventually the couple pulled away from the hug. Calypso greeted the other two people in the room and turned her attention back to Leo again.

“So, I’m Sunshine now again? No more Mamacita?” Her tone was suspicious but Leo could tell that she was actually happy about the change.

“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Reyna had quite a talk with me about how ladies should be addressed and apparently Mamacita isn’t an appropriate way to do that,” he said sheepishly.

Calypso cocked her eyebrow a bit at that piece of information. Even though she hadn’t met Reyna personally because she had left for her band camp before Reyna and the other hunters of Artemis had visited Waystation, she did remember hearing the name before. “Reyna? Isn’t she that girl who you saw in that vision back on Ogygia? The one with dark hair and…”

“Yes, that’s her,” Leo said cautiously. “She’s a Hunter now so she and her group visit here pretty often.” Before Calypso had time to say anything to that, he added: “She’s acting like a sister figure towards me and she’s scolded me a lot for… well, a lot of things.” He decided to not reveal that a lot of their talks had revolved around Calypso.

Calypso’s expression softened at his comment. “I’m glad someone has been keeping you in check while I was gone. Maybe I should let her do that more often.”

Worry flashed briefly in Leo’s eyes because he thought she was implying that she would be leaving Waystation so she decided to calm him down. “Relax, Repair Boy. I didn’t mean it that way. I wanted to stay here with you and that hasn’t changed. Besides, high school is pretty great, you know? I want to get through that. But, um… I’ve been thinking. About what was going on between us before I left.”

“Oh? Yeah, me too,” Leo replied, combing his messy hair with his hand.

Suddenly they remembered that there were two extra pairs of ears in the room listening to them, ending the conversation there.

“Ahem,” Jo cleared her throat, understanding the situation all too well. “Leo, how about you take Calypso’s bag into her room? I can see the wing meanwhile. I promise Festus will be better than new soon.” “Sure, I can do that, mom,” Leo said with slight reservation in his voice.

Calypso gave Jo a thankful look, exchanging a couple of words with her and Georgina before pulling Leo out of the workshop.

The two occupied the room Calypso used to sleep in before the band camp. Leo didn’t hang out there that often, but he was reminded of one particular time earlier that spring when he had been there. That night Calypso had had some nightmares and she had found out Leo was awake as well. They had stayed up talking for a long while in Calypso’s room until falling asleep next to each other. Even though they had been fully clothed when Emmie had come to wake Calypso up for some morning gardening (Leo felt like bursting into flames even at the thought of having done something that involved taking their clothes off. It wasn’t that he had never thought of it - he was a 17-year-old boy who was very much in love with his girlfriend after all - but he didn’t think they were quite there yet. And he highly doubted that Calypso would appreciate him even requesting that), the mother hens of Waystation had still pulled them apart and had some very embarrassing talks with them. Comparing it to the time when Percy and Annabeth had fallen asleep at the stables of Argo II, Leo felt like those two had gotten off easy.

“So… How was the camp?” Leo started awkwardly after setting Calypso’s bag down in her room, snapping out of his memories.

“It was good,” Calypso said simply, sitting down on her couch, Leo following her. “I am impressed by how talented these kids with no special powers can be.”

“Don’t underestimate the regular mortals,” Leo noted. “In my homeless kid group there were a few that were really good at the shop skills even though I’m pretty certain they couldn’t see Festus.”

“What do you mean with that?” Calypso asked. Before she had left for her camp, she had heard about Leo’s plans for the community service, but what she didn’t know was that Leo had used Festus as the place to teach the kids. Leo explained the situation to her.

“But isn’t that kind of risky?” she wanted to know then. “I mean, I know he’s your friend, and all, but what if he had accidentally started blowing fire at them or something?”

“C’mon, of course I had safety precautions for that,” Leo protested. “I may be an idiot but I do know my way around mechanical dragons.”

“Right. Of course.” Calypso said. Before their break she might have started a debate about Leo’s safety precautions but given the circumstances she decided that it would be better to not question it. A silence fell between the two as both wondered how to approach the topics they really wanted to talk about.

“So how have you been doing, really?” they asked almost simultaneously.

“Um, you go first,” Leo said, attempting to be polite.

“Like I said, I did enjoy the camp,” Calypso answered, getting a dreamy look on her face. “It’s… still so fascinating to me to see how the regular mortals – I guess I’m one of them now – live, having no idea what’s going on behind their backs… And I learned a lot of things about modern music that Apollo didn’t teach me. I know how to play the guitar now! But…” she hesitated a bit. “What about you?”

Leo got a strong feeling that she was actually going to say something else after that ‘but’. Her face told him that she was debating in her mind about something. Maybe she was even going to say she had missed him? But instead of asking about that, he answered Calypso's question.

“Decent, I guess, all things considered… Who would have thought that I enjoy teaching? But I guess it helped me that I could relate to those kids’ situations… and it’s kept me distracted from what happened with Jason…” He was looking down at his hands, hoping it would manage to keep him calm enough.

“Yeah…” Calypso seemed to be thinking about something for a while. Eventually she asked: “Hey, would you like to tell me more about him? I mean, what was he like?”

Leo was surprised by the request but he did what he was told to do.

“Jason… He always put the others’ happiness before his own. On the day we met, Piper was about to fall in a canyon but he jumped after her without knowing that he could fly. Crazy, I know, but that’s the kind of guy he was” He noticed that even though it hurt, he was now able to smile at the memory.

“I don’t remember if I’ve told this to you but Hera had messed with his memory; he didn’t remember almost anything about his past, but I think he took it all like a boss. If I had been in his boots I would have probably punched her in the face. Jason also accepted me as his friend even though…” Leo’s lip started trembling but he bit it and managed to continue: “Even though I had never had real friends before Piper and Jason and didn’t really know how to act around other people. That’s why the jokes. He was probably everything I wished I was - strong, smart, etc. - but never made a big deal out of it. He was so humble. After what happened with Dirt Face he probably thought he’d get to live a normal life and be a regular high school student, but...

“The Triumvirate…” Calypso said for him, having heard that part of the story before.

“Yeah,” Leo nodded sadly. “From what I’ve heard, Jason knew he would have to die in order to let Piper and the others survive and Apollo to succeed in his mission. He wasn’t like me, though. I hadn’t really accepted death when I decided to sacrifice myself against Potty Sludge so I used the Physician’s Cure. Jason, though… he had accepted his fate and he died knowing that Apollo would make things right. I’ve heard from Apollo that his last wishes were that no minor god would be forgotten again, and that Apollo would remember what it was like to be a human even after he becomes a god again. And to me it seems Apollo is holding to that promise. I know things won’t probably ever be perfect for us, but… if even one god is on our side… I feel like some things might improve at least for the next generation of demigods and… Jason didn’t die in vain.” He sighed, fiddling with his hands like always when he was dealing with difficult topics.

“So you think that Jason was the reason why Apollo was able to change?” Calypso asked.

“No, probably not the only reason, but… a reason nevertheless.” Leo said absentmindedly.

“Jason and you were willing to die for your cases. Sometimes I wonder… if giving up my immortality was the right choice, but hearing these stories makes me feel more peace with it. Life is short when you are a mortal and that’s why we should live it the fullest every day… and that’s why…” Calypso leaned towards Leo until their lips touched. It was a short and gentle kiss but it made Leo flustered and worried he might accidentally burn something.

“W-what was that for?” he stuttered when they broke apart.

“Stupid. You thought I found some hot clarinet guys from the camp and forgot about you?”

“You still… love me?” Leo asked in return. Even though he technically knew it (how else would he have gotten out of Ogygia in the first place?), it wasn’t something Calypso said aloud often and especially after the events of the past couple of months Leo had had a lot of doubt in his mind. Hearing it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt a smile spread on his face automatically.

“We may argue sometimes and you may be kind of insufferable when you’re in that mood but after taking some time to think I recognize that I am at fault too for the issues we’ve had and I am willing to admit that. Sometimes I’ve blamed you for things that were not your fault and I’m sorry about that. Besides, I see that you have learned a thing or two while I was gone. Not calling me Mamacita is a good start. So, yes, Leo Valdez. Se filo.

Even though Leo hadn’t spent a lot of time learning Ancient Greek at Camp Half-Blood, he still knew what Calypso’s line meant. His heart suddenly feeling full, he had to admit that the line felt more powerful when said in your first language. But there was a language even more near and dear to him than Spanish; one that his mother had taught him when he had been very young, one that he had repeated countless and countless times when missing her. During their flight from Ogygia back to the States he had taught a certain rhythm to Calypso so she knew the meaning too. When he started tapping against the back of her hand, a small sniffle came out of Calypso’s mouth.

“You haven’t done that in a long while,” she said quietly, her voice slightly cracked. “Gods, I feel I’ve been pretty selfish lately… All this time I have been thinking about my own struggles and have forgotten you have your own… yet your feelings towards me haven’t changed… You know, Apollo was right to get mad at me that one time.”

“What?” Leo asked, not understanding what Calypso was talking about.

“When we were on our way to that zoo…” she referred to the time when they had just arrived at Waystation. “Oh, never mind. What matters is that I see more clearly now. I’m not sure if I’m much better than those men who left me in Ogygia.”

“Of course you are!” Leo exclaimed. “You were stuck there for thousands of years! I… can’t even imagine… being forced to fall in love that many times and having to watch all of them go… I would have gone nuts. Thinking about it, I find it crazy that you didn’t just throw me out of your island. You deserved something better.”

“Leo…” Calypso said, turning his face towards her gently. “I think the fact that you weren’t exactly the type of hero that I was hoping for back then was the reason why things ended up going differently with you. I did not fall for you because of the curse. I fell for you despite that. And… after spending so much time together without having any time off from each other, I… started taking things for granted and forgot to be grateful. I owe you a lot. But I want to make it clear that that’s not why I want to be with you. I want to be with you for you. Sarcasm and bad puns included. And that’s what I remembered while I was gone.”

“Hey, Cal…” Leo removed Calypso’s hand from his jaw and took it into his. “I think we’ve both been faulty for these issues. The others here have made me realize that I haven’t exactly been the best boyfriend material either. I don’t talk about my issues. I make jokes at moments when I shouldn’t and probably make you think I don’t take our relationship seriously. Like that one time when I compared it to machines. I… I think I can see now why that annoyed you but that’s just how I roll. A machine geek and a clown. Those will probably always be a part of who I am so I’m not gonna promise that I’m just gonna magically change. But what I can promise is that I will try to make you see that I do take this seriously. Because I do.”

Calypso gave him a small, genuine smile and squeezed Leo’s hand slightly.

“I believe you. And… maybe we’re just one of those couples who enjoy bickering. What’s a life without challenge?”

Leo chuckled at that. “Wouldn’t have said it better myself, Sunshine.”

“I haven’t given my permission for the nickname ‘Sunshine’…” Calypso gave Leo a pointed look, which however quickly melted into a mischievous smile. “But we’ll see about that. More seriously speaking, though… I should try to keep my temper in check more as well. That doesn’t mean that I won’t call you out, though, when you deserve it.” She nudged him playfully.

“That’s fair enough,” Leo admitted too, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Yeah… Listen,” Calypso said suddenly. “In case you still doubt my commitment… I have something to show you.”

She went to her desk and took some papers out of the drawer.

“Here. Something I found on Ogygia after you left. Thought you might want to see it again.”

Leo took a closer look at the drawings and his mouth opened in surprise.

“You… these…” he said, dumbfounded.

“I just made Leo Valdez quiet? Miracles do happen.” Calypso teased but then turned her focus on the papers as well. It was a blueprint of a garage building Leo had drawn while stuck on Ogygia with Calypso. Besides Leo’s own workshop, there was a space for Calypso to do her work as well. For something that had been sketched in only a few hours, it seemed that he had still put a lot of thought into it. Even Annabeth Chase would have been proud of it.

“I… I wasn’t expecting to see these anymore,” Leo said with a hoarse voice, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room.

“But it was something you dreamed about, right?” Calypso asked, worried she had done something wrong.

“Yeah… still do.” Leo nodded, the papers shaking in his hands. “I didn’t think you’d remember…”

“I remember a lot more than you think I do,” Calypso said. “I used to be a titaness, remember? But… when I saw it I knew it was important to you and I kept it because it was my way to hold onto the hope that…” She swallowed. “That you would come back to me.”

Leo leaned in to give Calypso a kiss on her forehead. “And I did. Hey, wanna hear a secret? I took something from Ogygia to guide me back there. I think I still have it…”

He started fiddling with his toolbelt for a while before he found what he was looking for. It was a tiny piece of crystal from Calypso’s old cave.

“It was thanks to this that I got the astrolabe to work and managed to find back… You can have it.”

“But I…”

“It has done its job. It brought me to you. So, who is more suitable to carry it?”

“Thank you.” Calypso looked at the crystal with teary eyes. “It… may have been my prison but it was also a home… This… means a lot to me.”

“I hope it’ll remind you of the good things you experienced there. Not the bad," Leo said quietly.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it… it will.”

“Good.”

Calypso leaned against Leo’s chest to calm herself down, getting his shirt wet but he didn’t complain. She didn’t move from there for a long time, and Leo was starting to get a bit worried before she finally lifted her head and swiped her nose on a tissue Leo dug for her from his toolbelt. Then she looked at him with her puffy eyes, somehow still looking good in Leo’s opinion.

“I don’t know what just happened there…” She mumbled. “I guess… this whole past year… or more… has been a lot. Yet I haven’t been able to cry even once… Somehow it just all flooded out of me now.” “’s OK.” Leo said, stroking Calypso’s long hair. “Trust me, I’ve been feeling that way… well, probably since I was 8.”

“When your mom…”

“Yeah,” Leo nodded. “But wanna hear a weird thing? Even though things haven’t exactly been easy for us… Right now I’m feeling more balanced than in a long time.”

“And why is that?” Calypso asked.

“This is gonna sound cheesy as hell but I think it’s because I’ve finally found a home. No, I don’t mean Waystation as a place, although I admit it’s cool as heck and the only place about as safe as Camp Half-Blood. But I mean the people here. You guys make it home.”

Even though Leo didn’t say it aloud, his eyes told Calypso that he wanted to say ‘especially you’. She understood.

“I think… I feel the same way,” she said.

Leo brushed a strand of her hair aside from her face and leaned in to kiss her. The gesture made Calypso happy because so far Leo hadn’t been the one to initiate the more romantic displays of affection, even though she sometimes wished he would. It might have been a bit sloppy, but neither minded, just enjoying the warmth of the kiss.

After they finally separated, they continued talking for a long time, occasionally bickering, but it cleared the air between them. Calypso wanted to teach Leo to play the guitar (“But what if it makes me too irresistible? You’ll have to drive all the ladies away!” “You have a bit too high expectations on yourself, Leonidas.”). Leo told her about his pupils’ and Georgina’s most recent shenanigans. They also ended up speculating about Apollo’s plans now that he was a god again and reminiscing the times on Ogygia. At some point Leo dug the Valdezinator from his toolbelt and got Calypso to sing along to the music, making both a bit emotional again but in a good way. They fell asleep huddled in each other’s arms on the couch and didn’t even care when Jo and Emmie found them there the next morning, giving them quite a scolding again.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus #my fics #tower of nero #percy jackson and the olympians

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