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chaotic-super · 9 months ago

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Joining The Superfriends - Chapter 28

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“Alex, where’s Lena?”

Alex pushes back on Kara’s shoulders, stopping her from trying to sit up and get out of bed for at least the sixth time in less than two hours. “She’s got a lot on her plate and I think she needs some time to come to terms with everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“She sat by your side for five days straight, Kara. She spent most of that time doing nothing but worrying about you and hasn’t taken the time to properly process what happened with and to Lex. Her brother just died and that will impact her life massively.”

Kara closes her eyes, trying to get the image of Lex’s corpse out of her mind. “Yeah. That’s a lot. Is she mad at me?”

Alex looks down at her sister’s panic-stricken face. “No, no, of course not. She understands, and she actually told Kelly that she’s grateful it wasn’t her that did it, even if she hates that you now have to carry that burden.”

“So she’ll be back?”

“I’m sure she will be,” Alex confirms. “I’ll text her soon and see if she has an approximate time, but hopefully she’s decided to get some proper sleep in her own bed. She’s been pushing herself to the limit to be with you while you were unconscious. I think it’s probably all just caught up with her now.”

Kara nods slowly. “I get it. I still wish she was here, but she should look after herself.”

“It’s ok to want that, Kara. There’s no shame in wanting things. It’s only when you push someone else’s feelings aside for your own that you’re being selfish. Hell, sometimes we deserve to be selfish. As much as I want to push you to do that right now, Lena needs some time. She really does.”

“Ok…just,” Kara pauses momentarily, trying to find a nice way to word her next sentence. “Can you keep everyone away from me for a while?”

“Everyone or Mon-El?” Alex raises her eyebrow at her little sister.

“Both. I don’t want to deal with Mon-El right now and I don’t want to be interrogated by Winn either. I just want to rest for a while and try to wrap my head around everything.”

Alex squeezes her hand softly. “Ok, I can do that. I’ll tell everyone you’ve gone back to sleep. You should actually do that.”

Shaking her head, Kara snuggles into her pillow. “I don’t know if I can do that. I’m pretty achy and my mind is just everywhere. “I might read for a while. Can I borrow your tablet?”

Alex grabs it and swipes away all her open windows before handing it over. “I’ll leave you to it because you’re obviously not ready to talk yet and I’d be wasting my breath trying to get you to. Shout me if you feel weird. We’re pretty sure the kryptonite is all out of your system, but you’re not fully healed yet. It’s important you do.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to go and entertain everyone so they stay out of your hair. You owe me one.”

“I think I owe you more than one.” Kara smiles at her softly. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

“Always,” Alex promises, backing out of the med bay.

“Oh, and Alex?”

“Yes, Kara?” Alex sighs fondly.

Kara clutches the tablet to her chest as she peers over at her sister, her hair falling in her eyes and blocking her vision somewhat. “Are Sam and Jack coming?”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know, why?”

“Lena should have her friends here to support her. Especially now. I know Sam works at Luthor Corp, so there’s probably a huge mess for her to clean up now Lex is gone, but surely at least Jack can come?”

“I’ll give them a call.”

“Thank you.”

“Now rest.”

“Ok,” Kara replies softly as Alex finally retreats out of the room.

With her sister gone, Kara leans back, not even turning on the tablet in her grasp, too preoccupied thinking about the mess Lena has to deal with now. Between Lex’s death, the destruction of the city, the deaths of all the civilians and dealing with Luthor Corp, Lena’s plate is so full it’s overflowing. She just hopes Lena will let her be there for her through it all.

Lena pulls the duvet around herself more firmly, then takes a moment to flick her damp hair out of her face. The shower was nice, but trying to reach over her shoulder to coat her healing wounds with anti-septic cream afterwards wasn’t. It’s done now though, even if it did wear her out. She really wants to be back at Kara’s side, but now that she knows she’s awake, she doesn’t feel as panicked. There’s not the same pit in her stomach or the little voice in her head telling her that Kara might not wake up. She just feels lighter. Lighter but tired.

She knew as soon as she made it back home that she would end up in bed for a while before going back to the Tower. She just needs a breather. It doesn’t help that she knows that when she does go back, she has to fight against Kara’s ex, who apparently hates her. The revelation that Kara once bitched about her family is neither here nor there. She couldn’t care less really. After all, who hasn’t bitched about her family at this point? What bothers her is that Kara’s ex decided it was alright to try and start a fight over Kara’s bed right after she just woke up from a five-day coma. That she can’t overlook.

Personally, she’s got nothing against the guy. He can say or think whatever he wants about her. What he can’t do is make Kara’s life harder or make her uncomfortable in any way. Who even comes to visit their ex after a near-death experience anyway? Someone who wants to worm their way back into her life, that’s who. Like hell is Lena going to sit back and let that happen. They might not have had the chance to make it official yet, but she’s pretty damn sure they’re at least seventy percent of the way there.

Allowing her eyes to droop closed without resisting the urge to sleep for the first time in days is a kind of bliss Lena can’t describe. It’s been long awaited just as much as she dreaded it. She doesn’t get to enjoy it for long though because she barely lasts five minutes before she’s off into the dream world.

Her mistake comes with not silencing her phone before going to bed. She should know by now that if Sam and Jack can make her life worse in any way, they’ll do it.

“What do you want?” A groggy Lena answers her phone, pissed that she’s barely slept at all and she’s already been awoken.

“That’s not very nice.”

“What’s not very nice is being awake for almost five days straight with only crappy naps between. I just got to sleep. I’ll call you back when I wake up again. Good night.”

“Oh no, the fuck you don’t.” Sam harshens her voice. “As much as I hate that you’ve barely slept, this is important.”

Lena huffs and rolls onto her back, kicking her legs against her mattress like a stroppy teen. “But Sam…” She whines.

“No, this has to do with Luthor Corp. Lex’s death certificate has been filed now. That means that legally, the company is now yours. You just have to come and sign on the dotted line. You’ll have to come to Metropolis though.”

“And you couldn’t have waited a little longer for me to sleep before asking me to come to another city in the midst of nobody being able to get anywhere due to the fact that National City’s airport literally got flattened by the weird-ass leg of Lex’s spider ship?”

Sam clicks her tongue and sighs down the line at her. “Lena, I appreciate that you’re not having a good time right now, especially knowing your brother is dead. I know you cared for him even after everything. I’m sorry for that. I’ve bought you as much time as I could with Luthor Corp, but there’s already talks of your mother trying to find a way to get her hands on the company.”

“Let her have it, Sam. I don’t want it.”

“I know you don’t, but you can’t let your mother have that power. She’s just as bad as Lex was, and look at what he did.”

Sam can practically hear Lena’s brain whirring down the phone.

“I just don’t know if I can do it, Sam?”

“Not even just for as long as it would take for you to find someone you trust to run it?”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t run it, you know that. I have Ruby.”

Lena sits up with a frown, propping her pillow up behind her haphazardly. “I know. I just…I don’t know how to run a company. I can build things, I can fix things, I can give a mean right hook. I don’t know how to run a company.”

Lena can hear the shuffle through the line as Sam shrugs. “That’s why you’ll have help. I know you’ve got a damn good team on your side back in National City, but you’ve also got a pretty good one here too. I’m with you, Jack is with you, and you’ve got a whole team of literal superheroes with you. You can change the world for the better now, Lena. Don’t waste your shot.”

There’s a brief silence on the line.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure out how to get to Metropolis as soon as possible.”

“I’d say just use Super-air. I can say first-hand that she offers a first-class experience.”

Lena clears her throat. “I’ll ask J’onn. She’s…”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad. She only just woke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Lena sniffs quietly. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you too, Sammy.”

Lena rubs her eyes, still awfully tired but feeling at least a little better compared to when she went to sleep.

Grabbing her phone, she sees that she managed to get almost six hours of rest, and that’s much more than she was expecting, so she is happy with that. She just has to get through her list of things to do that’s a mile long.

She squints at her notifications and sees that she has a handful of texts to answer, most of them from the Superfriends just checking in with a couple from Jack too, telling her that if she doesn’t let him know when she’s in town so they can get drunk together, he’ll throw a hissy fit.

Alex’s text sits right on top, so she figures she can answer her and she’ll let the others know. Jack takes days to answer texts so he can’t say anything about a bit of tardiness in responding. She can handle him later.

She drags herself out of bed, stretching out her stiff back and dripping her jaw to let out a yawn that makes her jaw crack. “Ok, so I just have to make sure Kara is alright, potentially fight her ex and take over an entire company before coming up with a way to help rebuild the city. That’s only four things. That’s not too bad.” Staring at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, she sighs. “Who am I kidding? This is going to be hell.”

Lena rolls her shoulders, trying to get rid of some of the stiffness there, and then she nods at herself in the mirror. She’s got work to do and moping won’t help anyone.

She gets dressed as quickly as possible before brushing her teeth and washing her face. The quicker she can get to the Tower, the faster she can get things rolling, and the quicker it’ll all be over.

As quick as she wants to get there and sort everything though, she still has a lot on her mind and she needs to take a moment to take everything in. Walking to the Tower, she stares at the damage left on the city. Damage that definitely wasn’t there when she moved here. Damage that she is partly responsible for. If she hadn’t moved here then none of this would have happened. If she hadn’t moved here, her brother would be alive. If she hadn’t moved here, Kara wouldn’t be hurt.

“Lena, I’m so glad you’re here.” Nia bumps into her as she walks out of the front door to J’onn’s P.I. firm. “Everyone is upstairs. We’ve spent the past hour or so figuring out the best way to help with the clean-up of the city. I think your big brain could do us some major favours in figuring out the best place to start.”

“Sure.” Lena nods. “Where are you going?”

“Just grabbing coffee and breakfast. You want me to grab you some too?”

Lena forces a smile onto her face. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.”

Nia grimaces. “I absolutely won’t do that. Alex gave me a very colourful threat because she’s caffeine-deprived and hangry. It’s better for everyone if I hurry.”

Lena chuckles and the fake smile turns genuine, just for a second. “That’s probably for the best then. See you soon.”

“Bye.” Nia waves, the door clicking shut softly behind her.

Lena’s shoulders sag as she wanders across the room and watches the elevator appear before her, glancing behind her for a moment before she steps inside.

Peering through the elevator doors, she realizes it’s in full view of the front window. She should really tell J’onn to do something about that. Anyone could walk past at the wrong moment and see something none of them want some randomer to see.

She sinks against the back wall as the doors close, letting her eyes fall shut as the gentle motion reminds her of the sleep she missed out on. Now, she kind of wishes she’d tried to get a couple more hours of rest before coming in, but she figures there’s no rest for the sister of the wicked.

Alex and Kelly are sitting in the main area as she steps out into the space. “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you?” Kelly asks, nothing but kindness and sincerity written across her face.

“I’ve been better. I managed to get a few hours of sleep so I’ll count that as a win.”

Alex frowns at her, her arms folding. “Why am I sensing a but?”

“Because there is one.” She shrugs. “With Lex dead, Luthor Corp is now mine, as we already knew. What I didn’t realize was how little time I have to get over to Metropolis to handle it all.”

Kelly’s eyebrows lift in shock. “You have to go to Metropolis?”

“Unfortunately.” Lena sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, stressed at the very thought. “I’ll have to see if J’onn is willing to fly me over. Sam called and told me there’s already talk of my mother trying to take the company. The only way I can stop that is by going over and making the switch official. My mother might not be quite as bad as Lex, but I can assure you that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She’s trouble and shouldn’t be in control of a multi-million dollar company.”

Alex uses her foot to nudge out the seat beside her. “Come on.”

Lena does as she’s told, plopping down gracelessly. “Sam is doing everything she can to buy me time; that’s pretty much all she’s been doing for the past few days. Luckily, she’s CFO, or else I’d have had to try and find a way to Metropolis even sooner.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

She shakes her head softly. “I doubt it. Just…take my mind off it, just for a few more hours. I saw Nia downstairs, and she said you’re trying to figure out how to handle the destruction. Let me see your plan. I can help with that.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Trading bureaucratic destruction for city-wide physical destruction doesn’t seem healthy.” Alex challenges.

“And running around the city in masks fighting bad guys with alien technology is the healthiest thing a person can do, right?”

“Touché.”

“Can you guys go ten minutes without arguing?” Kara staggers into the room, one arm wrapped protectively around her middle and the other using the doorframe to help her balance.

Alex shoots up to her feet immediately, rushing to her side, Lena not far behind. “You’re not meant to be up yet. You’re still healing.”

“But Alex—”

“No buts, you need more rest and more sunlight. You might be out of the woods kryptonite-wise, but you still have some pretty gnarly wounds that need to heal. Look at you, you can barely stand without wincing.”

Kara pouts at her, hoping to win her sister over, but all she gets is a hard stare in response. That’s not going to get her anywhere. She changes tactics, pouting over at Lena, hoping to garner her sympathy and protection. “I just want to come and sit with you guys.”

Lena shakes her head. “We won’t be long. Why don’t you head back to the med bay and we’ll come and join you soon?”

“If you’re going to be done soon, I might as well just hang out with you guys until you’re done.” Kara bats away the two sets of hands attempting to steady her and usher her back towards the med bay.

Shaking her head, Lena sighs. “Come on. We’ll be ten minutes tops, and we’re just doing boring planning anyway. We just want you to heal as quickly as possible.”

“I know.” Kara swallows harshly and lowers her voice, talking through gritted teeth. “I just don’t think I can heal very well when my ex is busy talking shit about all of our choices right outside the med bay where I have to listen to him bitching.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Of course he is. Kara, what did you ever see in him?”

“A partner whose nose I wouldn’t accidentally break.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lena’s eyes widen.

“It doesn’t matter.” Alex waves her off nonchalantly. “I’ll handle it, Kara. I’ll walk you back to bed and then you won’t have to worry about him, ok?”

Kara’s shoulders drop and she catches Lena’s hand. “Will you come sit with me when you’re done?”

“Of course I will. I won’t be long.”

Kara’s pout disappears, her face brightening like she’s just stepped outside on a sunny day. “Good, see you soon.”

“See you.” Lena waves her off, worry building in her chest when she notices just how unsteady she is on her feet as Alex guides her away.

“Just keep your mouth shut, Mon-El. Now isn’t the time for you to come waltzing in acting like you know everything because you’ve been in the future for a whole five minutes.”

“I just happen to have read the history books, and I know that Luthors just happen to be on the wrong side of history.” Mon-El’s indignant tone cuts through the air and into the med bay, making sure that Kara won’t get any rest today.

“I’ve literally never seen you read a book before.” Winn’s confused voice at least brings a smile to Kara’s face. She’s missed the guy, even if he can be a little annoying and is terrible at keeping her secrets.

Mon-El’s offended gasp rids her of that momentary joy. “I once read Romeo and Juliet. Just ask Kara. There’s your proof, and so what if I haven’t read any history books? I still know that the Luthors aren’t good people. Why are you people acting so dense?”

A loud slap rings through the air, the sound making Kara wince. That was definitely an Alex slap, and Alex slaps are spicy, to say the least.

“What was that for?”

“For one, I know you’ve read that book, and you defiled it by writing nonsense all over the pages, and secondly, we’re not the ones acting dense. You’re the one being prejudiced against someone you don’t even know. You’d think the prince of Daxam would know that your family doesn’t define your beliefs or your morals. That is unless you’ve gone back to your slave-owning ways?”

Kara can just picture him shaking his head cartoonishly and backing away from Alex, trying to escape her harsh words. “Of course not! I would never do that.”

“But you did. Does that mean you’re still a bad person? Does that mean that because of who you are, you’ll forever be a bad person?”

“No! I’m good! I saved the world.”

“So has Lena, but you’re too busy calling her out for actions that aren’t hers that you can’t see that you’re only hurting the people around you. Kara is still healing. She got very badly hurt by Lex and Lena is the one that saved her. Lena protected her. Lena is the reason she’s still alive. You’re just the person stressing her out so badly that she keeps leaving the med bay just to get away from you and your incessant whining. Pull yourself together before I send you back to the future by whatever means necessary.”

If Kara were a betting woman, she’d put money down saying that Mon-El is quivering in a corner looking like a kicked puppy right now. She’s not entirely sure what she saw in him before. Sure, he was kind of like having an excitable border collie around. Cute at times but so energetic and chaotic, he leaves nothing but damage in his wake. Unfortunately, what she saw was his potential to serve the herd. The herd being the people of Earth.

“Let me go apologize to her.” She hears him say, sadness coating his words.

“She does deserve an apology, but you’ve kept her up long enough with your bullshit. Move into another room away from here where you’re bothering her and let her rest. She needs to sleep and recover, not listen to you acting like you know best for everyone around you.”

“But—”

“No buts, get your ass up and get out of here. I don’t care where you go, but you’re not going anywhere near either Kara or Lena unless you have my permission. Understand?”

A silence follows that makes Kara nervous, anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Alex clears her throat. “Understand?”

“I got it.”

“Good.”

Footsteps echo as the three of them filter out of the room and further away from her until she can’t hear them at all. She kind of wishes that her powers weren’t still gone. Clearly, the kryptonite caused a lot of damage if she solar flared, but she’s kind of grateful. There’s no impending crisis right now, which means she has to be on edge without them. She can just enjoy the moment without overthinking it too much. That’s something she doesn’t get to have often, and she intends on basking in the glow of not having the pressure of the world sitting heavy on her shoulders.

She lets her eyes slip closed, but just as she starts drifting off with the warmth of the sunlamps keeping her nice and toasty, she hears footsteps return and with those footsteps comes dread. She knows those footsteps.

“Kara?”

She keeps her eyes closed, praying he’ll get the hint and leave her alone.

“Psst, Kara.” He tries again.

Still, she makes a conscious effort to keep her face relaxed to not give away the fact that she’s awake.

Then her shoulder is grasped and she’s being shaken hard enough to make her gasp out in pain, her eyes finally popping open.

“Ah, fuck!” She grabs at her wounds, now thoroughly pissed and in pain. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I just need to talk to you.”

“Like fuck you do.” Lena’s sharp voice comes from the doorway. “I don’t know what was running through your obviously pea-sized brain, probably nothing of substance, but you’ve got some wires crossed. You just hurt her and woke her up for no good reason when I know that Alex just kicked you out of this part of the Tower.”

“With all due respect, this is between Kara and me.”

“Kara and I.”

“What?”

“It’s Kara and I, not Kara and me. If you’re going to start talking shit, at least be grammatically correct about it.”

Mon-El’s fists clench, and he turns fully towards her, standing directly between Kara and Lena. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You’re just like him, and you’re only going to hurt her.”

Lena’s eyebrow raises, her face nothing short of icy. “Like you just did?”

“You didn’t see what happened. She’s not hurt because of me.”

“So she just yelped in pain from what? Just lying there?”

“Must have done.”

Lena shakes her head as she lets out a short laugh. This guy is a piece of work. She takes a step back and turns her head towards the door. “Alex!” She shouts at the top of her voice.

Just like that, Mon-El turns white. He might be a lot stronger than the average human, but if there’s one person he’s scared of, it’s Alex, and he just went behind her back to do exactly what he’d been told not to do.

Lena can hear Alex’s hurried footsteps getting louder and louder as she approaches, drawing closer rapidly as Mon-El gets visibly more anxious with each step, his hands gripped into tight fists. At the same time, his eyes dart around the room in an attempt to find a way to escape.

Alex storms into the room, not knowing what’s waiting for her but intuitive enough to know that whatever it is, it’s not good.

She spots Mon-El facing off with Lena and knows right then and there that this isn’t going to be a pretty fight. “Who wants to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on?”

Lena clenches her jaw, remaining silent. She wants to see what kind of shit this complete and utter asshole is about to spout.

Mon-El does something Lena wasn’t expecting. He squares up to Alex, his shoulder back, his spine straightening and his fists held firm at his sides as he glares down at the redhead. “She’s dangerous and Kara’s not safe around her. I was doing what I had to in order to keep her safe. She can’t be here if you’re allowing someone like that to be around her. Look at what her brother just did; she could kill her at any moment, and the only one to blame would be you because you let it happen.”

Alex doesn’t hesitate to react. Using her Hand of the soldier, she summons up a boxing glove lined with lead and hits him squarely in the face, knocking him back and right onto his ass.

He cries out in anguish when blood starts to pour from his nose, not broken, unfortunately. “What the fuck, Alex?”

“Stay the hell away from us, Mon-El. I told you to stay away, and yet here you are, coming back where you’re not welcome to accuse someone you don’t know of something they’re incapable of doing. You’re a mess. You’re dangerous. Get the fuck out.”

“You’re not going to ask her what happened?” He throws his hands in the air. “You don’t want to ask her what she did? You seem to like attacking me, but you haven’t even got the full story.”

Alex sighs, dematerializes the boxing glove and folds her arms before turning to Lena. “Is there more to the story, Lena?”

“Yes, he grabbed her and hurt her.”

Alex’s eyes darken instantaneously. “Brainy!”

The Coluan comes scuttling in quickly. “How can I help?”

“Get this piece of shit out of the Tower now before I kill him.”

There’s the barest hint of a nod before Brainy pulls Mon-El off the floor and ushers him to the door.

The Daxamite doesn’t go easily though, pushing back against Brainy’s hands to turn back. “I was getting her out of here because you’re not keeping her safe.”

“I suggest you leave very quickly because I estimate that the next weapon Alex materializes won’t be a boxing glove.”

Mon-El snarls before huffing his way out the door, barely turning his head to spit out one last line as he leaves. “You’re going to regret this when she turns out to be exactly like her brother, just you wait.”

Lena shakes her head at the man, infuriated by his saviour complex and need to villainize her when he doesn’t know a single thing about her other than her last name.

Her gaze meets the side of Alex’s face and she’s shocked by the amount of pure rage she sees there before she remembers that she just told her that he hurt Kara. Kara, who she needs to check on. She turns quickly, rushing to Kara’s side, panicking as she finds the woman on her side, her back to the door. She’s curled in on herself, her hands thrown over her ears protectively and her knees to her chest.

“Kara?” Lena round the bed, crouching next to her so her eyes are in line with Kara’s closed ones. They’re shut so tightly little lines are spreading across her face from the force.

She reaches out carefully, her fingertips just barely brushing against the cowering woman’s wrist. The tiniest bit of pressure causes her to rear back and pretty much fling herself off the bed, landing on the floor in a pile of useless limbs.

“Kara!” Lena cries out, rushing to get to her side. Her eyes instantly rake over Kara’s body in search of injuries. “Are you ok?”

Kara’s hands remain over her ears, but now her eyes are wide open, looking like they might pop right out of her skull at any moment.

“Kara, you’re ok. I promise you, you’re ok.” Lena creeps closer, afraid to touch her in case she reacts badly again.

Alex sprints into the room, and it takes Lena a second to realize that she must have made sure that Mon-El really left this time, or else she would have been in here with them a lot sooner.

“Alex, I don’t know what’s happening. She was on the bed, but when I touched her wrist she threw herself off the other side to get away from me. I don’t know what to do.”

Alex holds her hands out in front of Kara, moving slowly so she can clearly see her intentions. Her hands slowly descend to land on Kara’s forearms, and Lena watches with rapt attention.

Alex’s eyes flicker between Kara’s and Lena’s for a second before she addresses Lena whilst looking deeply into Kara’s eyes. “She’s alright, Lena. She’s going to be just fine. She’s just panicking and overwhelmed.”

Kara stares back at Alex, unblinking and seemingly frozen. Lena can’t help but find it a little odd. Her breathing appears normal, if not a little deeper than usual, but she’s not gasping for breath, not struggling against whatever is happening. She’s just embracing it and riding her way through it.

“What’s happening, Alex?” Lena whispers.

“She’s fine,” Alex responds in a hushed voice, carefully prying her hands down and away from her ears. “She’s just fine.”

“Alex?” Kara whimpers.

“I’m here,” Alex reassures, taking that as her cue to pull her sister into a hug. “Both me and Lena are here and we’re not going anywhere. I promise.”

Lena nods despite the fact that Kara can’t see her face. “We’re not leaving, Kara.”

Tentatively, she reaches out to press her hand to the centre of Kara’s back and lets out a heavy breath of relief when she doesn’t shy away.

They sit like that for several long minutes. Alex holds her tightly while Lena strokes her hand up and down the centre of her back in a slow, purposeful rhythm, completely predictable. Then, Kara leans back, sniffling a little and wiping her eyes before tears can fall. “Thanks.”

“Are you ok?” Lena murmurs.

Kara nods shakily. “Yeah, sorry. It just…I was…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know,” Alex says, standing up and pulling Kara with her, urging her to get back on the bed. “Lie down. I’m going to have to check you over.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going to stop worrying until I’ve seen it for myself, so just humour me, alright?”

“Ok.” Kara doesn’t put up a fight, and it’s clear that she isn’t in the right state of mind to be able to for some time yet. “That’s ok. Lena, will you stay with me?”

Lena moves to her side, taking her hand. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Kara hums. “Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to stay here alone, and I don’t think Alex will let me out of here yet.”

Lena had to stop herself from agreeing, guilt already building up in her chest, heavy and uncomfortable. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Sam called and she can’t put off everything going on with Luthor Corp any longer. I have to go or else the company could fall into my mother’s hands, and she’s just as bad as my brother.”

Kara blinks slowly before tightening her grip on Lena’s hand. “You have to go then. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just call me?”

Lena’s eyebrows pinch together in worry. “I’m sorry, Kara. If I could stay, I would. I don’t even want to go. If I could just leave it and not have anything to do with Luthor Corp or anything to do with the Luthor name at all, I would. I really would.”

“I know.” Kara forces a smile, one that both Alex and Lena can see through.

“I’ll look after her and stay with her.” Alex squeezes Lena’s arm, seeing the conflicting emotions hiding behind emerald eyes. “You do what you have to do and then come back to us, alright?”

Lena hums her agreeance and raises Kara’s hand up, kissing the back of it softly. “I promise I’ll be as quick as I can. This is my home now. National City is my home and I don’t really want to leave.”

Kara holds their joined hands on her belly, her free hand holding onto Lena’s wrist, preventing her from leaving, and Lena’s not about to pull away. Sam can wait a while longer.

Inevitably, she’ll have to go, but she’s happy to stay for as long as she can in the meantime.

Check out more chapters of JTS on my Patreon here!

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x lena #fanfic #cw supergirl #supercorp endgame #supercorp fanfic #joining the superfriends #chaoticsuper

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that-house · 24 days ago

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hey there! so i've seen you posting stuff about revel, especially you describing it as "dnd but good". what does that mean to you? what are you adding to the heartbreaker formula to make it fresh and interesting that pathfinder doesn't do, for example?

It’s a lot of stuff inspired by the way I run my existing 5e game, because I’m one of those DMs who isn’t really playing 5e anymore. When I finish off this 4-year D&D campaign with a 100,000 HP final boss, I’m moving to greener pastures… After truly pushing that dogshit game to its limits I’m going to need a fresh framework to riff upon, and right now that’s looking like it’ll be Revel.

I’m less concerned with treading completely new ground with Revel, and more focused on making a game that doesn’t meet my desired playstyle in the middle. I’m a sucker for long stretches of downtime broken up by tactical combat, intricate superbosses, and really, REALLY big numbers

For character creation stuff:

At the moment there’s 6 Roles (one for each ability score):

Vanguard (front line fighter)

Vagabond (bursty skirmisher)

Tower (dedicated tank)

Tome (maximal spell-slinging)

Adherent (midrangey support caster)

Artist (dedicated support caster)

Roles generally define your combat niche, but can be built to fill those niches in a variety of ways.

Each Role has 3 associated Classes, which each only go up to half the level cap (so multiclassing is eventually mandatory).

Each Class has a pool of 10 Upgrades (new passives or actions or what have you) which each can be further enhanced in unique ways with Mastery Points. In addition to being acquired through leveling, Upgrades and Mastery Perks are good targets for PCs to work towards during downtime

The first three Roles are martials, the other three are casters. Martial levels contribute to your stamina pool, caster levels contribute to spell progression. The goal is for those two progression systems to mesh well enough that playing split martial/casters is just as good as going full martial or full caster.

Most of the spells in the game are modal, and do at least slightly different things when cast as a Quick Action vs when cast as a Full Action. Stamina abilities tend to just snap the action economy over their knee, and Stamina regenerates between encounters, so martials are encouraged to maximize the value they can get out of their stamina each fight, while casters weigh their spell choices to ensure they can go nova on the boss

General gamefeel:

Positioning doesn’t matter that much in D&D when a fireball can hit basically anywhere on a reasonably-sized map. Reducing both ranges and movement speeds is meant to help to make proper use of movement a more important skill, as well as encourage generally smaller maps

Open enemy statblocks, with incredibly dangerous abilities that can be countered with proper play. This game isn’t really meant to be a *product*, so I’m not sure if I’ll be making much in the way of example statblocks. Telegraphed one-hit KO mechanics as a way to shape player decisionmaking are my bread and butter

In general, characters should care about the circumstances of the game around them more. In D&D, the fighter walks towards the enemy and hits them a bunch. In Revel, hopefully players will have the tools to engineer a situation that maximizes the amount of shenanigans they can fit into a turn, and the amount of possible shenanigans that can arise in an optimal scenario will be frankly silly.

In summary, the beating heart of Revel’s design philosophy is that a high level Wizard’s turn should play out like an Armored Core pulling off an MTG combo.

#revel rpg

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skelswritingcorner · 10 months ago

Text

This is a gift for the wonderful @lovenotcomputed, based on the request that she fulfilled. Go check it out, it's wonderfully delicious writing!

Story below the cut because this is a long boi.

Words: 5408 (oopsies)

It hasn’t been long since that giant red… thing took you out of your little makeshift home in those dusty vents and put you in that box. It was pretty big for you, you could lay down with your limbs stretched out in the middle of it and you couldn’t touch the sides. Would’ve been nice if you had a blanket though.

And it would be nice if you weren’t constantly assaulted by bright lights. You could probably get some good sleep. The black-helmeted one with that weird eye thingy was always supervising you, writing on that translucent blue tablet and muttering in a language you didn’t understand. Frequently, the red one would come in and look at you, talk to the other one, then leave. It happened at least five times.

Perceptor observed the human as they sat in the ventilator chamber, writing notes on his datapad about their vitals and behaviors. He already checked the blood, there was no evidence of them having any sort of bacteria or virus. However, the human coughed several times. Whatever affliction the human has requires a scan of their vents. Probably best to go get one of the medics, either Ratchet or First Aid.

The door to the lab opened, and Rodimus walked in. Perceptor turned to the mech, who briskly walked to the ventilator with the human inside.

“So, is the human alright?” Rodimus asked, optics flickering between Perceptor and the human.

“The bloodwork showed no signs of any afflictions. However, the human likely has some kind of chronic condition that affects their vents.” Perceptor answered.

The captain winced. He already planned on keeping the human, but learning that the human has a chronic condition makes him feel more justified in adopting them. Someone needs to make sure they’re doing alright!

Perceptor looked back at the human, who was blankly staring from their ventilator. “I plan on asking Ratchet or First Aid to help do a more thorough checkup on the human, see if we can do a scan of their vents. We might need to sedate the human, based on their previous behavior.”

“Also,” Perceptor checked his datapad once more, “we need to get the human stuff they can eat. I doubt we currently have anything safe for them to consume right now.”

Rodimus’s optics widened, “Primus, I forgot! We’ll have to stop the ship somewhere that has supplies for humans. And the Lost Light isn’t exactly made with those their size in mind.”

“Correct.” Perceptor nodded, “I’ll open a comm link with First Aid, see if he has something that could be used for the human. I’m sure they might feel a bit cold.”

Rodimus nodded, “I’ll ask Swerve about what possible supplies we need, he knows a lot about human culture, more than anyone else on the ship.” He left the lab, leaving Perceptor alone with the human.

Perceptor leaned forward, noticing purple half-circles under the human’s optics. They must be exhausted. Guess the exams will need to be done another cycle.

He opened his comm link to First Aid, “First Aid, do we know if we have any human supplies on this ship? Something that could be used as a blanket? The presence in the ventilation system Rodimus was complaining about was a human. I put them in a ventilation chamber right now, but they might be too exhausted for any exams. I’ll tell you more once you get to my lab.”

“I’ll see if I find something.” First Aid replied. Now, all Perceptor had to do was wait. He cleaned around his lab, mostly as a way to keep his servos occupied.

After a bit of time, the door opened to First Aid holding a cloth in his servo. “I had to ask Ratchet since I don’t have experience with humans, but hopefully this should do.”

Perceptor nodded, opening the lid to the ventilation chamber “Hopefully, it will.”

First Aid walked up to the ventilator, placing the cloth down. They grabbed it with their smaller servos, tugging it. First Aid let go of the cloth. The human investigated it, then started setting it up in their temporary home.

“How long do you think you’ll leave the human in there?” First Aid turned to Perceptor.

Perceptor put a servo on his chin, “They’ve been in the vents for a long time, after they do a recharge I’ll see if we can make a temporary bed for them.”

“I’ll ask the Captains if we can make an emergency stop, then. Hopefully, we can get all the things necessary for the human to be comfortable. I’ll see you later.” First Aid left the laboratory with a wave.

Perceptor turned back to the human, closing the ventilator once more. “Rest now, little human.” he turned off the lights, then left the room.

A different red one came into view, holding something in their white hands that you recognized as some kind of cloth. The two talked for a bit, then the one that put you in the box in the first place opened up the top. Unfortunately, the opening was too high up for you to try and escape, so you waited for what was going to happen.

The white hand with red fingers lowered the bedding to you, which you grabbed with a small tug. After they let go, you investigated the bedding. No pillow, but it was a pretty large blanket. Turning to the two strange beings, you just nodded and started setting up the blanket in your little jail. As you were doing your thing, the two talked to each other.

After the red robot left, the black-helmeted one said some words to you. You didn’t recognize it, but after that they turned the light off and left the room. Guess this is a good time to sleep. Wrapping yourself in the blanket, you fell asleep.

#transformers x reader #tf rodimus #tf perceptor #transformers idw #transformers first contact au #sfw g/t #g/t #mtmte #gift fic

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tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter two: lips of an angel

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 5.1k

a/n: thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing this series for me <333 love you bestie, the only one i'd wanna be a sister wife with

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Nice To Meet You?

Hey,

I got an email that we were matched for Sweet Temptations. I figured I would reach out and introduce myself, maybe get to know you a bit if you are alright with that.

Feel free to call me Javi. I am honestly not sure what else I’m meant to do in an introduction like this. I promise I am normally much smoother than this, or at least more human and less awkward.

It’s nice to meet you, and to be matched up with you, Angel. If that’s what I should call you?

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hi Javi!

It’s nice to meet you too, and hopefully, we get to meet in person. These first emails are always awkward no matter how many I’ve sent or received, so please be assured that, honestly, that was one of the better ones I’ve gotten. :)

I normally like to ask what you’re looking for out of this “arrangement” (I hate calling it that, it sounds so impersonal) and maybe you can tell me some fun facts about you if you want to share!

I can go first for the fun facts:

Green is my favorite color

I unironically love the song MMMBop by Hansen (which is unexpected if you saw the rest of my tape and CD collection)

My current favorite movie is Romeo + Juliet that came out a couple of years ago cause Paul Rudd <3

That’s about all that I can think of as I sit in bed and type this so hopefully that is sufficient enough!

TTYL Javi,

Angel

To: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Re: Re: Nice To Meet You?

Hey Angel

Paul Rudd is pretty likable, I’ll give you that. Is he your type? Cause I hate to break it to you sweetheart but I don’t really look like him. Both have dark hair but that’s about where the similarities stop. And Romeo + Juliet huh? Must be a bit of a romantic.

And MMMBop…it is catchy. I have to stop myself humming it at work these days.

As for what I’m looking for, I guess I just want someone to spend some time with. Whatever comes of it, comes of it, but I don’t want to really have any expectations. Just wanna get to know you, Angel.

Took me a while to think of some fun facts:

I grew up on a cattle ranch right on the border of Mexico in Southern Texas

When I was little (like 9/10 years old) my primos dared me to enter a rodeo for Mutton Busting (chasing a sheep around to try to catch it)

A CD of Selena stays in my car at all times, and yes, I know all the words

Hope those were fun enough for you, Angel.

And I hope you have a good day today.

The emails continued for about a week and a half, Javier slowly became more comfortable with the virtual communications. Angel was bubbly, and sweet, always asking him questions and always interested in hearing about his day or what his favorite book was. It was either his loneliness or a newfound desperation that had his heart skipping when the sound of new mail pinged from his desktop.

It felt a bit strange to have such normal exchanges with Angel and be reminded of the circumstances with his bank statement for the charges that the service takes monthly. With how personable Angel has been even via email, he finds himself forgetting what exactly brought them together. Maybe all the mystery and excitement will wear off when the two of you meet, but something deep in his gut is telling him that isn’t going to happen.

He drags himself away from his desk, no response from Angel yet today. All he can think about is how he hopes there’s a new message when he comes back, gathering his things to head to the lecture hall for the third week of Sociology of Deviance.

In the beginning, he thought this class was going to be a chore to do. Stuck onto his schedule last minute, had new material to cover, and had an annoying Dean of Faculty checking in on him much more often because of it. However, a handful of sessions in, he’s got a bit of a skip in his step to rush over there, the familiar jump in his stomach when he thinks about you.

The pretty fall floral dresses you’ve started wearing with the change in weather, large cardigans pulled over the top. You’ve worn a few flannels over your shoulders, clearly oversized and he feels a prick of jealousy whenever he sees you in them.

Do you have a boyfriend? Are those shirts his?

What would you look like in one of his button-downs?

Christ, the thoughts won’t stop no matter how hard he tries. Another reason why he is attempting to completely throw himself into this new “arrangement”, hoping it would be a means to an end to his crush on his student.

That’s what it is. He has a fucking crush.

He hasn’t had a crush in years.

Laying everything out for the class session, he starts writing the discussion points on the board. At the sound of the door violently swinging open and a rumble of loud footsteps rushing, he looks over his shoulder to see you, belongings in your arms and clearly flustered. His jaw drops open to ask if you’re alright, making a burning flash of eye contact with you before you drop your head, embarrassed, and find your seat.

Turning back to the chalkboard, he shakes his head minutely, rolling his shoulders before continuing his writing, white powder from the chalk coating his fingers. Instead of his normal thoughts of you, he keeps fighting the urge to ask if you’re okay. In the short time he’s known you if you could even say that about your dynamic, he knows it’s very unusual for you to come in that incomposed. He wipes the residue off on his pants, facing the class.

While he teaches, his eyes continue to wander to you, oddly quiet when you would normally be engaged in the discussion. That kid Alex, obnoxious from the jump, is taking up far too much air time in this class, and Javier can’t help the annoyance on his face as he leans back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for this kid to finish his long-winded, and incorrect answer.

You scoff audibly at a point that Alex made, piquing Javier’s attention. The two of you make eye contact again, and Javier suddenly unravels one arm from his chest, holding it up toward Alex.

“Excuse me, Alex, I respect your points but I think there might be some counters to your arguments. I want to be able to hear them before we move on,” Javier calls out your name, and his head snaps to you, nodding encouragingly, “What were your thoughts?”

“Oh, um, I was going to say that I don’t think that socioeconomic or social standing is the only explanation for the makeup of the prison system. And I think it’s pretty naive to think that it’s only rich people that get off with less severe punishments.” Javier watches your shoulders tense a bit at the obvious eye roll from Alex, the pen in between your fingers bouncing with nerves.

“Do you mind expanding on that? I’m interested in what you think is another reason,” Javier holds eye contact with you, the slightest smile on his face to reassure you to stand your ground in the argument.

“I mean, to me, It’s pretty obvious that the biggest reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. White people dominate the political landscape and the prejudices, even unconscious bias, contribute to the makeup of the incarcerated population. Judges will give favorable or less severe punishments to white defendants, and of course, class biases are a thing, especially because of the cost of criminal defense, but I think the overt, umbrella reason is racial discrimination in the legal process. It’s built into the systems of government, which is pretty depressing…”

You trail off and laugh awkwardly at the silence in the room, some classmates nodding in agreement while some are unphased, uninterested.

“That’s good. That’s exactly what I was hoping would be brought up by someone,” Javier nods to you, pointing in your direction before he rounds the desk to start writing on the board for students to take down in their notes.

In your seat, you start to copy down into your notebook, glancing up to see him look over his shoulder at you. One corner of his mouth lifts, a smile in his eyes as you try to bite back your own grin that threatens to expose how much you enjoyed his short praises.

From: TheOnlyAngel

Subject: Wanna Meet Up?

Hiiii Javi

I’ve had such a shitty day today, but honestly, I was still excited to be able to come home and talk to you. :)

Do you think you’d be interested in meeting in person this weekend? I’m free Saturday night if you are. LMK!

Hope your day was better than mine!

xoxo,

Angel

Plans were made to meet Saturday night around eight o’clock. Javier had chosen a bar he’d become familiar with on those nights when he couldn’t sleep, when the memories of Colombia were too much when he couldn’t stop thinking about those damn boats that were in his backyard.

The place is small, intimate, and quiet enough to hold a conversation — which he knew from the one or two times he’d picked up someone and brought them back to his apartment. There was always some sort of live music, usually some jazz or folksy blues, that could fill any first-date awkward silences.

In his last email to her, Javier told Angel that he’d be in the back of the bar, at a table for two, wearing jeans and a red short-sleeve button-up shirt. He makes sure to arrive first, getting there a bit overly early at 7:30 to snag a table and order himself a drink to calm his nerves. Pounding the glass back on the bar top, he orders another whiskey neat to nurse until she arrives.

This is a different feeling than he’s had before a date. Nerves aren’t normally his thing when it comes to women, but something about this night feels higher stakes than before.

Get it together, Javi. It’s a date, if it goes horribly, you don’t have to do it again. Plus, she doesn’t even need to be interested in you, this is her job.

When you arrive at the tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar, you nod thanks to the man holding the door for you, rolling your eyes when you get a comment from him that you didn’t ask for.

“Nice tits, sweetheart.” He slurs and sends you a wink that is definitely more of a blink. You slip past him without issue, scanning the small area for the man with dark hair and a red shirt on. At this point, with how many times you’ve done this, you’re normally not nervous to meet these men in person. It’s something you’re obligated to do, like showing up for any other job, and that’s how you treat it.

But this time around, something’s different. Talking with Javier has actually been….nice? He’s responsive and wants to get to know you, never taking more than a day to get back to you. He’s asked you more questions about yourself than anyone else has before and he always, always wants to hear about your day. If you weren’t careful, you could see yourself getting attached.

Well, getting attached if he’s anything like you’ve imagined him. Or who you’ve imagined him to be.

The only red shirt you can spot is on a man sitting at a table toward the back, facing away from the door and toward the stage in the corner where a jazz trio is playing a low, crooning song. Biting back a smile, you start to make your way over to him, admiring him from behind.

It’s broad shoulders and a strong neck, muscles flexing as he adjusts in his seat. His dark, chocolatey hair is combed nicely, so much so that you can’t help but have the thought of running your fingers through it and messing it up.

Dressed in a black dress with blotted red lips, you weave in between people, ignoring anyone else as you keep your eyes on the man you’re here to meet. Javi stays facing forward, watching the band play even as you stand behind him, cheated to his side a bit. Holding your breath, you lean closer and tap him on his shoulder.

“Um, excuse me, Javi?”

At the sound of his name, Javier turns over his shoulder to his right, a smile on his face already from the honeyed kindness in her voice. She did really sound like an angel for a second there before he realized where the sound was coming from.

“Yeah, I’m Ja—“ The sound stops in his throat when he is facing you. Your supple lips with the dainty Cupid’s bow, rouged cheeks, and gentle smile; normally in a nice dress or cardigan in class, but here you’re wearing much less material, more of your skin on display.

What would it be like to kiss it?

No. That is not ever going to happen.

Those doe eyes hold an innate tenderness that he couldn’t imagine ever being privy to, but here he was, under the stare of those and it was making him sweat. He can only imagine what he looks like to you at the moment, eyes wide and mouth blubbering to speak like a fish gasping for air.

You recognized him at the same time, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the word vomit threatening to come out. If it did, you know you would end up spilling how honestly excited you are that the man you’ve been emailing with has turned out to be Professor Peña. You’ve harbored a bit of a crush on him for the last few weeks, ever since that smile he gave you when you introduced yourself after the first session. It had been burning moments of eye contact, and those gentle encouragements from him.

Hell, after class this week when he praised your counterarguments, you thought about his voice saying “That’s good” over and over while you laid in your bed that night, coming with the image of him over you in record time.

The first word out of his mouth is your name, tone flicked up at the end in a question. He grumbles to himself as he moves to stand up, forgetting his drink on the table.

“Fuck, this is bad…” He whispers under his breath, shaking his head at himself as he runs his hands on the sides of his jeans. “I’m so sorry.”

He steps back to further the distance between you two, awkwardly avoiding your eyes as he attempts to recover his professionalism.

“It’s alr—“

“I had no idea it was you. This is completely inappropriate, I apologize. I should leave, uh, and I completely understand if you need to change out of my class. I know it’s past the cut-off date, but I would help if you needed—”

“Javi — can I call you that?” He considers it for a moment before nodding, rigidity evident in his body, “Javi, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize, neither of us knew before this moment…But I do have to say, I wouldn’t tell.”

“Uh, I’m sorry — what?”

“I wouldn’t say anything. If you wanted to sit down and have a drink, or a few, and get to know each other like we planned to, I wouldn’t say a word. Even if you weren’t interested after this, I promise, the secret’s safe with me.”

Javier can’t deny how much he was looking forward to meeting the woman he was emailing with. And he can’t deny that he’s had his eyes on you since that first meeting. Hell, he can barely control his thoughts around you.

Of course, it had to be you. The two people he can’t get out of his head have turned out to be only one person, and of course, it’s you.

“If it informs your decision, I would love to get to know you more, Javi.”

He stutters through his thoughts out loud before resigning with a sigh, taking a breath as he forms his response, “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Definitely. Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Now, may I join you?” You gesture to the empty chair and Javi nods quickly.

“Yeah, of course. Here, let me get that.” He visibly relaxes a bit, falling into a routine he knows well. Rounding the small table, he pulls your chair out for you before settling in the seat opposite. Shortly after, a server comes around and takes your drink orders, Javier looking to you to go first. After the order is placed, the server leaves the two of you in silence at the table.

Another beat passes before Javier speaks, saying what you both are thinking, “Sorry, I just, cannot believe it happened to be you.”

“Why’s that?” You ask with a lilt of humor in your voice, sitting up in the chair to move toward him, “Don’t think I would be into all this?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but—Actually I should not say what I was about to say,” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Oh, c’mon, what were you gonna say?”

“Nope, definitely not going to tell you, sweetheart,” he smirks at you and then adjusts in his seat awkwardly, “Oh, ‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have sa—“

“Javi. It’s fine, just relax. You’re not making me uncomfortable at all if that’s what you’re worried about,” you give him a sincere smile, reaching across to hold his arm that’s lying on the table, “It’s actually kind of nice to have those nicknames coming from you and not some other creepy men who contact me.”

“Why’s that?” He echoes your question from moments before, eyebrows raising in curiosity and the same smirk growing on his face, glancing down at your hand on him.

“I shouldn’t say what I was about to say,” you attempt to imitate his voice, laughing at the end when he gives you a look that says ‘Really?’.

“I don’t sound like that, cariño. But that’s a good try. Now what is it that makes me nicer than the other men you’ve seen?”

‘That’s a good try.’ This man.

“And how do you know that? I could be nailing what you sound like to other people. You hear your voice differently.” You poke his arm pointedly, moving your hand toward your lap again. Before it leaves the table, Javier stretches his arm across, catching your fingers with his. He holds them loosely in his, running his thumb across your knuckles as he keeps eye contact with you.

“I’ve heard my voice enough in press conferences that were televised, angel. I don’t sound like that,” he uses his free hand to take a sip of his whiskey, “And don’t try to change the subject. I wanna know what you are gonna say.”

“I could say the same thing to you. We both have our secrets tonight,” you take a sip of your drink and shrug, “You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Nice negotiating, cariño, but I think I’d have to have a few more of these if I was going to share mine.” He raises his glass a couple of inches off the table, the amber liquid sloshing around before he sets it down again.

You’d say anything to get him to keep giving you praise like that all the time.

Grabbing your own glass, you lift it to him and smile, “Well, only one of these and I’ll be spilling all my dirty secrets.”

Javier’s jaw notches to the side as you say that, biting his cheek before he takes his hand from yours and runs his thumb across his bottom lip to the corner.

Inside his chest, he feels his heart beating faster and feels his blood rushing south, that same damn smile of yours that you give him from rows away in class doing the same damn thing it does to him there.

Half of him is wondering how he can make you smile like that all the time.

The other half wants to wipe that smile off of your face and have you whimpering.

What would you look like under him?

Jesus Christ, he’s way far gone.

Javier’s had three more whiskeys on top of his previous three. You’ve had about four drinks yourself.

The evening has devolved into something much more casual, breezy; conversation has flowed between you two, finding things in common and swapping stories that have the other laughing. From the serious professor in class, this more easy-going Javi is refreshing to see and definitely makes your crush a lot worse, somersaulting stomach and warm, syrupy flood across your whole body.

The subject has returned to the evening’s secrets, you asking him again to share what he was going to say.

“Please, Javi, it can’t be any more embarrassing than what mine is. I’ll tell you what I was gonna say if you promise to tell me.” You extend your arm, fingers closed into a fist beside your pinky.

He looks at your hand, debating internally before deciding ‘fuck it’ and links his little finger with yours.

“I promise, cariño,” he smiles and nods for you to share, “What are you dying to tell me so that you can hear what I was gonna say?”

“The affection from you is nice cause, I don’t know, you feel…safe. When I first started, I was getting some weird men that wanted to meet, and—This has just been fun,” you resign with a soft smile, “Plus it helps that you’re hot. Got the whole smoldering cop with the porn stache thing.”

“Smoldering cop with the porn stache? I didn’t realize that was a thing,” he laughs, the crinkles next to his eyes deepening before he takes your hand lying on the table, “I’m glad this has been fun for you. After all that shock and awkwardness at the beginning, I think it’s been really nice to get to know you, angel.”

“Alright, I shared my little secret, you share yours now.”

Javier sighs, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. He takes a moment to speak before he meets your eyes, a resistant smirk on his face, “You are really gonna make me say this?”

“You pinky promised! I didn’t make you do that, there’s no coercion here, Javier.”

“Fine, fine. You’re too quick, cariño,” he squeezes your fingers with his, “I was gonna say before that I couldn’t believe it happened to be you ‘cause—It’s stupid, really, but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you since that first class, querida.”

“A crush? The sexy Professor Peña has a crush on me?”

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Can’t keep ‘em off of you, cariño. Too beautiful. And you’re fucking on it all the time, so goddamn smart. I really am convinced you should be teaching for me,” he glances down sheepishly, feeling exposed from his tipsy confession.

The surface of your cheeks heats up, feeling a tingle down your spine when his eyes meet yours again. Leaning forward across the table, you bite your bottom lip as you drink him all in.

“D’you think I’ll ever be able to properly pay attention in class again after that?”

“You better, sweetheart. Just cause I’ve got a crush on you doesn’t mean you’ll get a good grade. Not gonna go easy on you. Fair’s fair.”

“Mm, I don’t mind it hard. I prefer it that way, actually. Makes it much more satisfying when you finish.” Your tongue wets your lips before you take your bottom one between your teeth, watching as Javier’s eyes darken at your double entendre.

He shakes his head, giving you a knowing look about your mischievous word choice, “Better be ready for a challenge then, angel.”

“Always, Peña.”

It’s late now, verging on turning into Sunday; the hours flew by with each other. Javier noticed the time on his watch, the crowd in the bar was sparse in spots that were full when he got there. When he looks at you, your eyelids look heavy, and those normally wide and bright eyes, eager and excited, look drowsy and content, so close to slipping closed and turning your mind off for the night.

“You ready to head out, angel? We’ll go find you a cab.” He asks with a subtle smile on his face, scooting out of his chair and standing, offering a hand to you.

“Yeah, m’ready.” You rise after taking his hand, hiking your small rectangular bag over your shoulder and stepping closer to him as he switches which hand is holding yours. Right in right, he grips yours from the outside of your palm, fingers lacing together as he presses his left into the small of your back, weaving between the patrons and out the front door.

The air is crisp when the door breaks open, cool air surrounding your warm, alcohol-blanketed bodies. Javier's touch still surrounds you, your right shoulder pressing into his chest when you turn to say something to him.

He takes a step back, allowing you the space to rotate fully in his arms, meeting his eyes and feeling a grin toy at your lips.

“Tonight was nice.”

“It was. Think I should be saying thanks to you. M’glad you had me stay.”

“Yeah? Well, m’happy to hear that cause I was gonna say, if you wanted to keep this up — meeting up, the arrangement all of that — if you wanted to keep it up for the semester, I would happily keep the secret. Y’know, you help me, I help you kind of thing. We just have fun.”

Javier considers the offer, ticking his jaw as he debates internally. On one hand, it’s a massive risk. The two of you could be seen out with each other, or if anyone noticed anything different in class, it could jeopardize his job, and possibly your degree. But on the other hand, if every night with you is like this one, he’s hard-pressed to say no. You’re funny and intelligent and beautiful — sure, there’s the element of how you two met and what happens behind the scenes, money taken out of his account monthly and forwarded to you through the service — but with the way you’ve had his heart pumping from your sweetness and his cock half hard at how turned on you have him constantly, he really can’t find a fuck to give about the risk.

“Alright. If you are in for it, I definitely am, angel,” he grins at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips when his eyes flit to yours, the faint red lipstick of yours still holding strong.

“Good, Javi. That’s good,” your voice is a purr, a smug smirk playing at your lips when he leans in closer, walking you back towards the brick facade of the bar. His knees nearly give out when he hears those small praises, already waiting for the next time you speak them to him.

“Can I…?” he trails off, the tip of his nose only an inch from yours.

“You can kiss me, Javi.”

Without wasting another second, he catches his lips with yours, gentle at first with soft, delicate kisses exchanged. His tongue slides along your bottom lip, a breathy whimper parting your mouth enough for him to lick into it, melting his tongue with yours. One of his hands moves to hold your jaw, the other stagnant at your hip. A step closer brings him flush against you, quiet moans muffled into each other’s mouths.

The roughness of the brick is harsh against your bare skin on display, the contrasting sensations pooling arousal in between your legs. Javier tastes like tobacco, whiskey, and mint gum; an interesting combination but an intoxicating one. His hand at your hip moves around to your ass, pulling you off the wall slightly and against him, his growing bulge felt against your torso.

Before the two of you can get completely lost in each other, you pull away, hands on his chest. A taxi pulls up at that moment, honking its horn in question if you need a ride. You wave to him and ask for one minute with your fingers, turning back to Javi standing in front of you a bit breathless.

“I should go. Got some reading to do for this class on Monday that I’ve got.”

“Oh, yeah? Hope your professor hasn’t been killing you with the readings,” he smirks back at you.

“Nah, he hasn’t been killing me but seems like he does really wanna give it to me. Must have some high expectations,” your voice is coated with a lilt of teasing, winking at him as you slip from his arms.

He follows close behind to walk you to the cab, a hand finding your back and dropping down to graze his fingers across your ass.

“Think you’ll have no trouble exceeding those expectations, angel. Plus you could always ask for one-on-one tutoring or some extra credit.” It’s his turn to wink, opening the rear door for you and helping you in.

“Glad I have your confidence, Javi. Here, gimme your phone I’ll give you my number.” You reach out and he fumbles it from his pocket, passing it off to you. The information is quickly entered and saved, handing his device back to him and looking up at him from the seat of the cab.

“I’ll be waiting for a call, Javi. And I’ll see you Monday, Professor Peña.” You give him one last look, giggling as you shut the door and he hits the top of the taxi before you drive away, standing there with an idiotic smile on his face.

Javier grew up religious, his mamá dragging him to church every Sunday. He’s only been back to church at the major holidays he’s been home, leaving behind any spiritual side of him. All the concepts of eternal souls and heaven and hell meant nothing to him.

However, tonight, he felt an inkling to believe that heaven was real, and he had met an angel.

His angel.

tagging those from last time: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST, PLEASE FILL THIS FORM OUT! thank you!

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña x afab!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

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katealpha · 2 months ago

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Art by @Dizy_Wata_Toons

—-————————————-

Prologue:

Shortly after the year 2026 began, the Earth was suddenly visited by a fleet of massive saucer ships. There was panic at first, with many seeing this as the beginning of an alien invasion. However, contact was made between the two, and over a few months, humanity began to learn more about the Serpent Empire.

Predominantly made up of clones, the serpent species were born to serve their leaders, with the most efficient way of growing new clones being through the natural reproductive system. For eons, the serpents were conquerors, taking resources and women from various planets to serve as revered but captive broodmares for the aliens. By the time the serpents discovered earth, they’d expanded and taken so much control that the breeding program was entirely voluntary. Once diplomatic ties were made, the serpents began to integrate themselves into Earth’s societies. Chiefly, they advertised the breeding program and offered unbelievable amounts of money to volunteers.

This is where Nina Gao came in.

Nina was an actress who had recently started to gain traction in Hollywood. Seeing an opportunity to boost her career and help bridge the gap between Earth and the serpents, she had her agent contact the empire and soon, there was a drop ship hovering in front of her penthouse balcony….

# 1 Week Later….

A a phone camera began to record, standing up on a small tripod. The subject was Nina, who after a week of thinking, decided how she’d record the progress of what was happening to her. In short, she was pregnant. The operation done on her was a success.

Once she saw that she was being recorded live on YouTube, she smiled and stepped back so the camera could capture her from the thighs up. Now that she was in frame, she waved.

“Hey everyone! Nina here. I don’t normally upload to my official YouTube channel, but this is a very special occasion. Some of you might already know what this is about if you follow my Twitter and Instagram, but I’ll explain it again here. So, those serpent empire aliens who’ve been chilling out around our planet? Well, they’ve been basically doing help wanted ads for their breeding program.” The actress sneered slightly. “I know it sounds super weird, but they assured me that it was refined and safe for humanoids like me. Yeah, I kinda called them to volunteer. Why? Because I think having at least one movie star hear them out will make things between our kinds. That, and I’ll admit, I’m making twice as much as I would on a normal gig. If you’re watching at home and struggling with your bills…I’d probably think about it.” She gave a rather awkward chuckle before she changed subjects.

“Anyways, the procedure wasn’t really bad. They did it exactly a week ago, so as I’m recording this, I am pregnant with their kind. Just to make it fully known. In fact I’ve already started showing. They told me that the pregnancy would last about a month.” She sighed. “So yeah, hopefully it’ll all turn out okay. But here, let me show you guys the progress so far.”

Nina zipped down her thin sweatshirt and revealed her bare stomach to the camera. While she was hardly completely toned around her tummy, a turn to the side showed that something was different. Her stomach looked like she’d eaten too much at a restaurant. Like an average food baby one would see on tik tok or even that side of YouTube.

“You can definitely notice a little when I turn to the side. That’s gonna get a lot bigger over the next few weeks, and they already told me that I’m gonna start getting growth spurts and cravings soon. So yeah, can’t wait for that crap to get started. I’m just glad I only have voice roles to worry about for a while. I don’t know if I can go on a set with how nauseous I’ve been feeling all week. They basically plumped this concoction of their DNA and other stuff into my body, which forms into their version of babies over a month. Don’t worry, it was through my belly button and it didn’t even hurt. It felt weird but it wasn’t like getting a syringe poked into you.”

As she finished saying this, her stomach audibly rumbled on camera. She looked down and blinked. “Ugh, I just got super hungry. I’m gonna end this video now. Please keep things respectful in the comments, and it’ll be seeing you in the next update.” Nina reached over and ended the live feed to upload it fully. Afterwards, she went directly to the Door Dash app, all while her stomach moaned and gurgled deeply…

#pregnant #pregnancy #pregnant kink #rapid pregnancy #alien pregnancy #3d art

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muse-write · 3 months ago

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Towering Past

Here's my entry for the 2024 Inklings Challenge (@inklings-challenge)!

Jan. 12, 2023

H.,

Sorry for not responding to your Christmas letter…or your New Years’ letter. Really, I am! I know you probably think I’m tired of this method of communication—and I can’t rightly say I’m not—but there was more to my lack of response than sheer avoidance. I know you well enough to know you haven’t watched the local news anytime recently, so you might not have heard about the October explosion on the upper east side of the city. They’re saying it was a bomb planted in the subway system. It took out half the Northern line and a couple of blocks in every direction.

I have my own story to tell about that explosion, but I would sound insane, so I’ll leave this letter at that. And anyway, my hand is hurting from scribbling this letter out in record time now that I feel up to writing at all. You at least know I’m alive and hopefully you believe I wasn’t avoiding responding on purpose.

How are Jen and the kid doing? If you weren’t so set on letters like this you could text me pictures, you know! Why can’t you just call me like a normal person, H.?!

Love,

Frankie

Jan. 17, 2023

Dear Frankie,

Thanks for responding—finally. I was about to hop on a plane or send a strongly worded letter to your commanding officer just to make sure you hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth. I suppose a cellphone would make this kind of thing easier, but we’ve had that conversation too many times to rehash it now. Jen’s doing fine. Eric is running around and getting into trouble, and we both know who he takes after on that score. I always was a good son, Mother always said. If you please, you might want to drop by and visit next time you’re in the area; you might have some tips born of experience for how to deal with a little boy who insists on coloring on the walls.

What a vague way of ending your story; you aren’t saying you were anywhere near the explosion, are you? I know it’s your job and all, but don’t blame a man for getting worried when his sister defuses bomb threats on the daily. Anyway, you know I wouldn’t find any of your stories insane, and you must tell me your version of events. Just don’t wait another two months to do so, or I really will send your CO a letter asking after you.

Glad to know you’re alive,

Henry

P.S. In the envelope is a bracelet Jen borrowed from you a few years back. She was very worried that you thought she was planning on keeping it forever.

Feb. 10, 2023

H.,

I’ll tell you what happened if you insist. But you have to promise me not to laugh. I haven’t told anyone else what happened; I’m not entirely certain it was not a vivid dream. And you know I’m not much of a storyteller, so it won’t rank among your beloved novels. But it will be what happened to me, as accurately as I can put it. Forgive the late letter. This took days to write down.

First off, the explosion wasn’t an explosion at all—so you can put your fears about me being among the defusement team to rest, at least this time. I had woken that morning to a leisurely day, not having so much as a drill to look forward to on my day off, and that meant I had a clear view out the window at the precise moment a tower erupted from the concrete sidewalk only a block or two away from my apartment. When I ran from my complex down the street, I had no thought of entering the tower—I didn’t even know if it was that kind of tower, one that could be entered—but I knew someone had to check it out, and that someone had best be me, with my gun and military training. I brought my Sauer and phone with me (not being a technophobe like you) and approached the tower.

It was not pretty or elegant or admirable in any way. In fact, it was rather ugly, with sharp jagged peaks—I forget what they are called—at the top, and the walls made of black brick—except it wasn’t brick, it was more like marble or stone, lopsided and uneven, like the tower had been thrown and glued together. And it was completely silent. Nothing moved, except at the very tip-top there was a flashing blue light. Like a signal. It didn’t seem to be Morse code or any other signal method I could make out.

And then something moved in the very highest window, and through a pair of binoculars I took from a man next to me (there was a crowd forming by now) I peered up at it and saw that it was a human.

Henry, do you remember Lieutenant Gorsk? A few years back. It was him. Somehow he had found his way into the tower and all the way to the top, and any doubt of my venturing in there was put to rest.

I would find him.

I am ashamed to say that I didn’t prepare. I was so afraid that if I went back home and returned with gear it would prove to be a dream that I marched straight up to the entrance—I know you’ll beg for a real description, but all I can say now is that it was a door, black and wood of some kind, with an ornate gilded knob for a handle—opened it, and walked through, my hand on my Sauer the whole time. I still had the binoculars from the man outside.

This is where it gets insane, H. The interior of the tower was like one of those ancient cathedrals, you know the ones, like in England. The ones tourists go to and exclaim about and take pictures of sunlight streaming through the windows. Though there wasn’t any stained glass here. And the windows—don’t laugh—they didn’t look out onto Seattle, H. They looked onto a completely different world.

I can’t describe it. I can’t remember it all that clearly, either, it’s a huge blur in my head, after the hospital and…anyway, I remember that outside the sky was red—like blood-red, and below there was a dark river, sluggish and black and I didn’t like to look at it for very long, so I turned away and looked at the tower instead. It was Gothic, I guess. You’re the architecture freak. I’ve attached some pictures below, so make of them what you will.

Anyway, I’d entered a large foyer-like hall, with a great staircase sweeping up the far side and climbing the walls in spiraling loops. There were statues in this room, tons of them, but they were—they had such terrible expressions of sadness and terror that I couldn’t look at them for long, either. Even more than the sights, it was the feeling that stays with me, even months later; there was something utterly depressing about the place despite its eerie beauty. It sank deep into my bones and chilled me to the core. But I had to get to Lieutenant Gorsk. I tightened my fingers on the Sauer and began up the stairs, ready for…well, anything. I had no idea what to expect from a place like this.

And what I encountered, I had no way of expecting at all.

What descended down the stairs towards me when I had only climbed a few steps was a horde of—I don’t know what to call them. Demons, I suppose. They were not like the demons you see on church windows under the feet of angels. Some of them almost looked human, but were spindly and covered in scales like lizards or dragons or fish, scales that were matte and dark and reflected no light. Others weren’t human at all, but animal-like, though they resembled no animal I’ve ever seen except that they traveled on four legs, or maybe more. The horde of things surged toward me and I raised my gun to shoot.

I have killed people in my career, H., you know that. I’ve spent entire nights awake in my bed unable to get rid of their faces. I killed these things almost too easily, though the scaled ones gave my bullets some trouble. I had to resort to picking up a sword, fallen on the ground a few feet away from a bleached skeleton, to pierce through the gaps in the armor. It was helpful in preserving my ammo, since I’d only brought the few rounds that were in my gun, and I would need one round for when I reached the top--though I wondered what kind of other world I’d stumbled into. Who had this person been who had ventured in and died with a sword in their hand?

I proceeded up the stairs past the corpses, which were dusting away as though they had never existed in the first place. The tower reared up above me. Along its walls were grotesque tapestries of things I do not wish to remember, and I kept my eyes on the stairs and the gaping doorways I passed, waiting for another horde of demon-like things. I have been a soldier for decades, and never have I been more grateful for it than when I was ascending those stairs. My training kept me safe.

I reached the first landing and had to fight through another horde. I will not describe them all—some of them I don’t remember clearly enough, and others were simply too odd to put into words. All I know is that, with gun and sword, I managed to clear a path up the stairs.

But then one of them got the first hit in. I remember these clearly: three large, hulking things, with mouths like lions and bodies like eagles, large golden wings sending strong wind swirling around the landing. I could not move forward. My bullets barely pierced their hides. My sword could not break through their guard, and one of them sent an arm forward and its claws slashed my shoulder to ribbons. It burned like a gunshot wound, and I knew there was no hope of me defeating all three of them. I could only run and hide and hope they didn’t pursue me, so I turned and left the staircase to venture into the rest of the tower.

This floor was full of branching halls and large empty rooms that smelled of decay. The red sky outside left a garish red tint to everything that unnerved me, but I ran down hallways at random and tried to remember my way back to the stairs in case I lived long enough to return. The lion-eagle creatures chased me, but gave up soon afterward, and vanished into other areas of the tower. I ducked into an empty room and used the relative peace and quiet to inspect my arm. It was bleeding heavily, and I made a note to myself to check it for infection later in the day, assuming I survived that long.

I could have turned around. Abandoned my quest. Left Lieutenant Gorsk up at the top of the tower and returned to the peace of my house, a peace I had fought so hard for and tried to attain for so long. But you know what he did to me, Henry.

At the time, it seemed obvious to me that this was my second chance at justice. My chance to make peace, finally, with what had been done to me, and leave it in the past.

It never occurred to me to wonder how Gorsk had found his way here, or what had been done to him in the process, until much later on that day.

I wrapped my wound in strips from my shirt and hoped it would hold and wished I had some antiseptic, but a dirty shirt would have to do as gauze. Then I tried to creep out of the room, but realized that the door was locked. I had not closed it.

Demons appeared in the room around me, the scaled spindly ones I had fought off before, and I had become used to their movements and attacks and knew with relative certainty how to defeat them. A few strong strikes with a sword would weaken them, a gunshot through the head would finish them off. I would rely mostly on the sword now; I was running low on ammo, and I did not know how many more floors I would have to fight through. I refused to think about the fight back down once I reached the top. There had to be ten demons in the room, and my shoulder was burning and slowed me down, and there were quite a few close calls I prefer not to think about. I don’t know what it would have been like to be killed by one of these things and I don’t want to imagine it. They had sharp teeth meant for ripping and biting, and at some point after I killed a few of these I began tearing those teeth from the corpses’ mouths for extra weapons.

Ten of these demons were more than enough to test me, but with a lot of luck I managed not to die, and had a pocketful of demon teeth-blades to show for it at the end.

The door unlocked by itself as the last demon corpse dusted away.

I ventured back to the stairs, losing my way a few times in the process, and it was amazing what a relief it was to see the familiar grand staircase spiraling up over my head once again rather than the red wash of the old windows. The castle grew darker as I headed further up, and there were less and less windows, and less and less red, until I began to long for the light, eerie as it was. It was never dark enough to blind me, but it was surely dark enough for the shadows to shift and move and look like demons. I have had decades of experience calming terror in combat; this tower tried my nerves in a way I have never experienced before and hope to never experience again. In all of those books you’ve read, have you heard the phrase, “bear wrongs patiently”? In the military, I turned that into a talent. I bore the hazing, the combat, the setbacks and the horror and the fear. I tried to do that here, too, but the tower seemed to steal that control away from me, until even I was left trembling like a little girl surrounded by monsters. I gripped my gun in one hand and my sword in the other and ventured on, wishing more and more that I did not feel such an urge to find the Lieutenant. Wishing that I could be normal and move on from that time.

You can maybe understand why it took me so long to finish writing this letter.

I will leave it at that for now, so that you can get your letter in two months and not feel the need to call up my superiors. Though I think a glare from you, looking like some Oxford don, might just frighten Commander Paik more than all the roughest thugs in the city.

Love,

Frankie

Feb. 18, 2023

Frankie,

I don’t quite know how to start this.

First, let me say thank you for trusting me with your story. I don’t think you’re insane, and I didn’t let out a single chuckle.

Second, I am familiar with that tower. It appeared in my own city—around the time yours did. It looked exactly as you describe, and the pictures confirmed it. It was the same, or one of the same type. I entered the tower, though not at all for the same reasons.

You see, when I looked up at the top of it, in the window I saw Jen. Of course, I couldn’t leave her there.

I did not tell you of this before because I did not wish to worry you or cause you alarm; after all, what transpired became something much greater and more beautiful than I could have imagined when I first stepped through the door.

I sympathize with your quest to get to Lieutenant Gorsk. I remember him very well, and I wish I could have been there too, to punch him in the face (a second time, if you remember!). I don’t know if I can condone your mission, nor the intentions you implied, but after what the man did to you, I can’t say I wouldn’t have considered the same. And considering you are not writing me from a jail cell, I need to know the end of the story as soon as you can bring yourself to give it to me.

I did not bring a gun with me—you know my stance on them well enough—but, as with you, there were plenty of demons. I have never been a fighter, but I picked up a stray sword and a dagger or two and managed to hide and slip past many, and fought those I couldn’t. It was with a great deal of trepidation that I climbed those stairs—I can only imagine you, flying up them like a goddess of vengeance with wings at her feet! It was an eerie experience for me; the light made everything look as though blood covered it. The sun outside was not—right. It was deep and vibrant and would have maybe been pretty if not for the sickly pallor to the sky around it, like when a tornado is about to touch down.

I deciphered that I had entered a new world a little earlier than you. I had found a storage room to hide in—and what a storage room, with jars and masks and boxes—and could not help reading a few of the files I found stuffed in drawers (I know you’re rolling your eyes at me about now, so stop it!). The files were plain documents, just text written in a crusted brown substance I refused to consider any further than necessary, but I couldn’t read a word of it. It was not Latin, nor Greek, nor any derivation of any language I have ever come across. The letters themselves were indecipherable, and anyway I felt like it was best not to know what was written in them, so I shoved the papers back into their drawers and did my best not to wonder. I am not very good at that, but it was time to move on, and my survival (and Jen’s) relied on not being overly distracted by the theoretical.

I reached the top of the tower perhaps slower than you, but with far fewer injuries (please tell me you went to the hospital, Frankie!), and emerged from the stairs into a long corridor that extended to a single door. This part of the tower was not a maze, as I had discovered in the lower levels; it was very straightforward and clear about where I was meant to go. That door was my destination, and behind it must be Jen, and the window through which I had glimpsed her.

There were no enemies laying wait for me along that corridor, but I fully expected there to be some monstrous creature waiting for me behind the door. I grasped the knob. It swung open easily, terrifyingly easy.

I assume this room looked much the same for me as it did for you—circular walls, broad windows letting in that wash of red light anew, a view of a mountain range of some other world, dark and strange, stretching out beyond. Jen was there, and I called her name, but saw that she could not move, because, though she stood, she was enclosed within a barrier of some sort—her hands, I saw, were burned where she had attempted to push through it. There would be no breaking it.

And then the monster—appeared. I mean that very literally; one moment it was not there, and then I blinked, and it was. I could not make sense of it at first; it did not fit your descriptions at all of any of the demons you encountered. It was hulking and winged, but appeared to be made of chitin all over its body, like an insect has, and blue flame flared from the gaps in this natural armor. It bared teeth—I suppose would be the expression, on something that had such an unnatural face—at me, and there were two rows of sharp needle-like prongs.

This terrified me.

But it held Jen, my wife, the mother of my son, and what would I ever say to Eric if I let this beast harm her, or whatever it planned to do with her? Whisk her away? Kill her? Keep her imprisoned here, like some damsel out of a fairy tale, to lure adventurers with?

I tightened my grip on my sword, feeling a sense of hopeless doom fall upon me (yes, that was the only way to describe it, let me have my sense of poetry once in a while without mocking me, Frankie!). There did not seem to be a way I could triumph over such a foe. But neither could I hide or flee or distract it. So fight I must, even if it led to my own death.

I see no reason to regale you with the battle; there was nothing glamorous about it, as you well know. Suffice to say, I charged at it, which was not a good strategy, and my strategy changed to accommodate this. I was injured (and Jen gave me a good lecture about my stupidity later) and the pain nearly made me sick, but miraculously I managed to stay upright. It was a long battle, the monster was fast and strong and wanted me dead as badly as I wanted it dead, and I was afraid every instant, but eventually I managed to get lucky, and the blade sunk deep into one of those infinitesimal cracks in the monster’s chitin, and with a wrench I managed to twist the blade hard into its heart. That is not a feeling I wish to relive, Frankie.

But in the end, the monster lay there, its breath rattling out, and the barrier simply disappeared, just as the monster had suddenly appeared. Jen could move again—she later told me that the barrier had not been there until, presumably, my hand had touched the door; the monster’s doing, I assume—and she rushed to my side. I have never before felt like a brave man, especially when compared to you, brave sister, and I wish it had not taken such awful circumstances to turn me into one.

Jen told me later that she had no idea where she had been; in a moment she had been whisked from the living room of our house to the top of the tower, and for hours she had been staring out at that dark mountain range and the red sky and attempting to find a reasonable way of climbing out. The door had been locked, and the lock had repaired itself even as she had broken it, and escape seemed hopeless, unless she were to throw herself out, and she had not been quite that desperate yet.

Hearing your story, I simply wonder why? Why was it Jen who was picked up and plopped in that window to send me creeping up the stairs? Why was the same done to Lieutenant Gorsk? Was it a punishment? Or coincidence?

Do you have any theories, Frankie?

Henry

Feb. 30, 2024

Henry,

I never would have imagined that you had had such an experience, or that both of us have been carrying it around with us for months without letting on. We’re both stubborn—well, a soldier’s language isn’t something I want to subject you to, so I’ll leave it there.

When I finally did reach the top—though I don’t think it was so much as a goddess of war as a very frightened, very stubborn military-trained soldier—it looked the way you described it. The same long corridor, the same door at the end, the same suspicious lack of enemies. I had one bullet left in my Sauer, and plenty of demon teeth in my pockets.

Except there wasn’t a monster for me. Maybe the tower had decided I’d had my fill. Maybe the final challenge I encountered was the monster. I don’t know. I didn’t think much of it then. I just knew that odious lieutenant was behind that door, and I needed to get in there and shoot him dead, military protocol be damned.

It was a desire for murder, plain and simple, but I wasn’t thinking about the consequences then. I was thinking about those two years of hell, with the king of demons being Lieutenant Gorsk and his stinking breath and wandering hands and my only savior the friendship of Corporal Alice Lewis.

I turned the door, and there he was. Oddly, he was kept in place by the same barrier you described.

H., have I ever told you how easy it is for me to kill someone with a gun? My trusty Sauer, familiar and worn in my palm, my callouses formed around it, my target in its sights. It’s far easier to pull the trigger on my old friend than it is to take my Swiss knife and stab someone in the guts, but I’ve done both. I was prepared to do either, if it meant ridding the world of someone like Gorsk.

By now it’s been…what? Eight years since I was under his command? Not that long, in the grand scheme of things. Two years of hell, and eight years recovering.

I’ve put him out of my mind as best I can. I had almost imagined that I could go my whole life and think only of moving forward, but that vanished the second I laid eyes on him again. All my old rage and hatred and desire for vengeance came back to me in a moment, and propelled me up those stairs. Maybe in that way I was some goddess of vengeance after all.

My gun was lined up with his temple. He stood there, unable to move, his hands and arms burned by the barrier, knowing that I would be the last sight he saw. There was no doubt in his mind in that moment, I’m sure, that I would kill him.

I did. I did kill him, Henry.

I pulled the trigger and he fell back against the wall. It was a clean, cold kill. The door behind me unlocked, and I stepped out onto the stairs again. Going down, there were no enemies to fight, and I relived the moment I had shot him again and again, and did not regret leaving his body there at the top of the tower. I was victorious, the winner, the survivor, and I had killed the man who had made my life a misery for years.

I returned to my apartment, and the tower…crumbled. It fell, brick by brick, stone by stone, back underneath the city, and left no sign it had ever been there. I was quite satisfied with myself, and didn’t feel guilty about what I’d done until that night, when I remembered suddenly that he had had a wife, the last I had heard. Maybe a son, too, but I’m not sure. The next morning, while I ate breakfast, he appeared in the news—but not news of his death. Instead, there was something about some promotion to Major General, and I stabbed myself with my fork and threw my plate across the kitchen.

I realized what had happened soon after that.

I am not writing this from a jail cell, Henry, because to all intents and purposes Lieutenant Gorsk is still living—in this world, anyway. In whatever terrible, twisted mirror world I found myself wandering through, Lieutenant Gorsk is dead, a bullet’s clean entry and exit wound through both sides of his skull. I know I killed him, and I must live with knowing that I was capable of doing so, that I was fully aware of what I was doing. In my mind, he lies in a pool of spreading blood.

Love,

Frankie

#inklingschallenge #inklings challenge 2024 #team lewis #genre: secondary world #theme: patience #story: complete #theme: forgive

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multiplicity-positivity · 7 months ago

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Hey I dunno if you’ve gotten this before but. Do you have anything on autism and DID/OSDD? Specifically resources or accounts and such (since I’ve seen the positivity post)

I struggle with emotional dysregulation, big memory issues (huge chunks of childhood and adolescence missing, forgetting things constantly, dissociating emotions from memories, etc,) frequent daydreaming/spacing out/dissociation, that type of thing (and a bit more that’s a little too complicated to explain in an ask lol)

I’ve always kind of figured it was just part of me being autistic (I’m professionally diagnosed and definitely very autistic regardless lol), but I’ve recently gone down a bit of a rabbit hole relating to plurality and now I’m wondering if it could be a symptom of DID/OSDD instead/as well (I was originally looking at something else and stumbled into the tags somehow. The original thing that led me here was foxes. I think. And then I had a bit of a panic as I realized how some of the symptoms were VERY close to some of my experiences. Especially the memories.) but i also can’t tell if it’s just some sort of brain fog(???? Is that the correct term?) / alexithymia / Unknown Autism Trait 3 that nobody ever talks about and is difficult to find any sort of explanation or resources for. And my brain protested and had the equivalent of being on the verge of a sobbing meltdown or mental overload of some sort when I tried to think about stuff relevant to the topic so I don’t think it’s going to be of much help to me right now.

obviously not asking for diagnosis or to self diagnose at all (since. I understand you cant really do either of those /lh /nm) but I’m curious if any of you know of any resources relating to this specific type of stuff? I feel like I’d go insane trying to find any info on it. (And also I don’t think my brain would want to cooperate if I asked it to because it basically shuts down, gives me a headache, and turns to a pathetic wet sobbing cat whenever I try to think about the possibility so I doubt I’ll be identifying as anything anytime soon but. I want some stuff to think over at least.)

hey, we also are autistic and have dissociative identity disorder. unfortunately, there isn’t really too much research on the overlap between autism and complex dissociative disorder diagnoses at this time, that we know of, but we do think that autistic people may have a higher likelihood of dissociating and developing a cdd than neurotypical people.

we really love mike lloyd’s work at the ctad clinic, and he has an insightful video on the intersection of autism and dissociation here:

youtube

here is an open access paper by katherine e. reuben and ayden parish on dissociation as a symptom in autism - it’s an interesting read and wasn’t too difficult for us to parse:

also, here are a couple life experience pieces by folks with both did and autism:

our own autism has contributed to our trauma history in how we were treated, formed attachment, and understood the world as a child. for our own system, our autism and our did are inextricably linked. we are certain that many other autistic systems feel the same.

if exploring this possibility for yourself is causing you great distress, it may be for the best to put this off to the side for now until you have reached a point with more stability or a greater support system in your life. please don’t overwhelm or cause yourself harm by looking into this possibility on your own, if it is unhealthy for you.

if you are in therapy or have a mental health professional in your life who you trust, this would be an excellent thing to bring up to them. though hopefully these resources can help you get started learning about this topic if you have the spoons/ability to do so.

we are no medical expert or research professional, but we are happy to talk more about our personal experience of being both autistic and a did system if anyone would be interested. best of luck to you, anon, with figuring this out. we know how confusing and challenging it can be!

#long post #dissociation #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #did osdd #autism #autistic system #autigenic

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lonesome-witching · 1 year ago

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I Remember

@robincityofsilver asked for some flayed Robin and so you all get some flayed Robin. I might go silent for three weeks now (hopefully not) but at least I get to post this one.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to go in. That door had never looked so frightening. It was just the door to the basement. A door that was opened and closed several times a day and usually didn’t hide anything bigger than a child.

But right now, behind that door, she could hear screams and growls and it hurt. It was hard to recognize Robin’s voice in the animalistic sounds that echoed through the house.

The door opened and Steve appeared looking distraught. “I’m done. I need a break. She just—�� He dropped his head into his hands and allowed the door to fall shut behind himself. For a moment Nancy thought he was going to cry. She wouldn’t have blamed him.

“It’s alright, I’ll go take watch.” Nancy barely registered her own voice.

They had come up with the idea of a watch system. Simply because the basement wasn’t the most secure place to keep a young woman possessed by an other worldly monster. In her own defense, Nancy was a young woman herself and she hadn’t been able to think of a better place.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked compassionately. But Nancy saw the relief in his eyes at not having to go back down there yet.

“Yeah,” Nancy replied. She avoided her gaze, worried Steve would see right through her tough act. But her voice sounded shaky on its own.

Nancy’s hands were shaking as she reached for the door handle. The stairs creaked under her feet, almost as if they were protesting, warning her to turn back now that she still could. She ignored it and kept walking.

Robin’s hands were tied to the back of the chair. Her head was hanging low, as if she was looking at her own lap. Her eyes shot up to face Nancy as she walked into the room. Her eyes were darker than they usually were. Her lips didn’t curl into that smile that Nancy had grown accustomed to.

“Hi, Robin.” Nancy was bracing herself for the growl that would escape Robin’s throat. But it didn’t. Robin just sat there, watching Nancy approach.

There was a distance between where Robin’s chair was placed, and the couch Nancy sat down on. She swallowed down the excess of saliva that had built up in her mouth before trying anything.

“How are you feeling?”

Robin cocked her head to the side. But her lips stayed pressed together. Nancy already missed Robin’s voice, her incessant rambling, her lively laugh.

Nancy sank further into the couch pillow. She wasn’t used to having to be the talker. That was so lovely about Robin. Robin never shut up. Never until now.

“Robin, please say something. You know I’m not good at this.” It was more of a plea than a demand.

But Robin didn’t say anything. She just watched. She just kept on watching.

Talk to her. Nancy kept hearing those words on repeat in her own head. She was supposed to talk to her.

“Robin, do you remember the night after our fight with Vecna? We were all gross, covered in goo and slime. I didn’t want to be alone and somehow you seemed to see it on my face. You came up with the idea to go back to my place, back here. Right in this basement. And you stayed up with me as long as you could and when you fell asleep you made sure to hold me. I didn’t get a lick of sleep that night, but for the first time in a long time I didn’t feel so scared anymore.”

Robin’s eyes seemed to lighten. Maybe Nancy was imagining things.

“Do you remember that, Robin?” It felt useless to try, but she had to try something.

“Yes,” Robin croaked out. It was barely audible over her breath.

“Robin?” Nancy leaned forward. She couldn’t help the small smile from breaking through.

“I remember,” Robin whispered. “I remember.”

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ficlet

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qqueenofhades · 1 year ago

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I graduated a year ago and had a job for the 2 months and they laid me off without reason or anything because i was still in the 3 month trial period. Anyway I noticed that they didn’t let the engineers and architects reach the year, you know avoid seniority and stuff. And that was in April, it’s gonna be a year and I still haven’t got another job, I’ve done some freelance jobs here and there, but the last one was for December. I know January it’s kind of a dead month but I’m dying with it, honestly I don’t think I’ll reach the minimum payment of my credit and my car needs gas(at least it’s payed off) and I’m honestly so goddamned depressed. Somewhere I read that a lot of vacancies come out in January but I haven’t seen that many and the ones I’ve seen and sent haven’t even contacted me

Im sorry to bring all this glum to you, but I’ve seen some other recent graduate anons come at you, and you’re so understanding and aware of this economy and job market 🥹

Alas, as ever, I wish that I could make it better and tell you exactly what to do to fix it, but I cannot. However as always, I am absolutely offering you a cup of your preferred beverage, a baked goodie, and a chance to sit at my Internet Grandmother Kitchen and get some things off your chest, so yes. It does suck a lot out there and while it sounds cliché, you gotta do your best, keep trying, and see what comes along.

Hopefully you have other resources or support systems, but if you are in the US and need assistance in basic stuff like paying bills and getting gas, please think about looking into the federally funded 211 service:

Not enough people know about this, and it's way better than hoping that people on the Internet can help you out with bills every time you hit a crunch (although if you do have generous friends, I myself have been saved by them a time or two -- absolutely no shame or judgment here!) But they literally exist to help people find funds and resources for situations like this, and even if you're not in the US, I advise looking for similar government initiatives or programs. They might or might not exist (alas, I am American so I only know our version) but there should be at least something like this. Try searching "211 service equivalent for [country]" or similar keywords?

And of course, if you are reading this and ARE in the US: look into 211! Please don't drive yourself crazy with fear or stress! There are definitely stopgap services and funds that exist for just this sort of thing! Please do use them. I am sending hugs.

#anonymous #ask

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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago

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Long awaited, chapter 8!

-"The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance I’ll make it all okay." "For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself" Oof, the independence Azzi has built because she didn't give Paige the chance. I'm not okay.

-"Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face." Well this reminds me to bring up something I'd noticed in chapter 7 but didn't end up mentioning. Ruthie: “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?” By this Ruthie means on Paige's face. You can see on her face how inlove she is. But it could very well make Paige think of Azzi not wanting to share their love to the public. And that always hurt Paige, clearly. But going back to the way Ruthie originally meant it then, really it doesn't mean Azzi loved her any less. It's in the look on her face when she thinks of Paige, it's in the way she subconciously pushes Paige-like things onto her daughter, it's in the way she can't get into another relationship, it's there. It's simply a matter of that agrument on to sides:

side 1: Just because I don't show it properly doesn't mean I don't love you.

side 2: Just because you love me doesn't mean I feel loved.

-Paige called back to say goodnight to Stephie. Another promise kept. I know a lot of anons expected Paige to leave that morning in chapter 7, but she didn't, and I feel like you're actually making her keep all her promises and though some may think this is building up to her eventually not keeping one, I actually don't think so. I think she's gonna keep every single one of her promises and though I do wonder what the problem/source of angst is going to be, since it's kinda still all fluff right now, even if there's a moment of separation, that just means Paige can't make new promises to Stephie, therefore can't break any either. And eventually they'll figure out the problem too, bringing her back to Stephie (if there is a moment of separation) and probably making her say something cheesy like "I promised you I'd try to stay". I'll touch on what I think about problems in a bit though.

-"Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”" That will hopefully be next to Azzi.

-"My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me." I don't know if you've watched that Julia Roberts movie: My Best Friend's Wedding. If you haven't you can pretty much completely ignore this whole next bit cause it won't really make sense to you, but it's really giving me the same vibes. I also therefore really recommend it + it's a great movie. Anyways so, although Micheal ends up with Kimmy (his wife) I always thought that that was weird, and wrong. I felt bad for Kimmy really, just like I feel bad for Olivia. But the point is supposed to be that, though I feel bad for Kimmy, that doesn't mean I was rooting for her. I was rooting for her to go and live her own life and have a good one at that. But Micheal still loved Julianne, at least I thought that seemed clear. They made it seem like that wasn't the case and their last interaction is a simple "platonic" hug, though before he leans in he looks like he wants to kiss her. And the 3 of them have the exact same dynamic as Paige, Azzi and Olivia do here since, really Kimmy (Olivia) is simply what Micheal (Paige) settled for because he wanted to be loved publicly and Julianne (Azzi) wouldn't let him have that. But to me the moral was more that Micheal (Paige) wanted to be loved publicly BY JULIANNE (Azzi). I don't see his marriage realistically working out but whatever.

-"I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them?" Ooohhh, yet another mention of Azzi's reasons, plural at that, but still you're not adressing themmmm! I neeeeed to know.

-"“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it" DID SHE HEAR IT???!! HEY DID SHE HEAR IT???!!!

-"“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back." I love my huuugeee stretches and yes, believe me I'm aware this is about to be a stretch. But umm, what if this is mirroring their situation? Like Paige and Azzi's timing always seems to be off, but maybe that doesn't necessarily mean it's wrong, maybe being fashionably late is still on time.

-Ok so Clémence isn't a problem and honestly I didn't expect her to be. I genuinely have no idea what the problem will be. I feel like you have angst planned but, I don't see it fitting in now. Like maybe you're actually just gonna do pure fluff onwards, I doubt it. But the thing is I know a lot of people think the contract thingie with Liberty will pose a problem, idk but I just don't think so. In my head I don't see Azzi getting mad because legally it makes sense and shouldn't the team be aware to some point that Paige's contract is short? I mean if anything I thought it would sorta maybe possibly if you'd let it be perchance be a source of fluff. Like Paige just making it clear she's not leaving GSV, not leaving Azzi and Stephie. No matter how much the NYL offer. I can't even picture like a misunderstanding apart from from Stephie's POV. But Pazzi wise, if you plan on a couple more ups and downs consider me intrigued cause I have no clue what to expect really. Plus I still expect a Pookie reunion and they probably won't go see Drew together if they're fighting soo, with that being like chapter 9/10, the proposal 10/11, wedding 11/12, angst just doesn't fit in into my peaceful fluff schedule.

-"“baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”" Please break the sleepover rule, please break the sleepover rule.

Okk that's it thank you soo much and have nice holidays but ugh I want chapter 9 soo bad, I'll be patient though, it's all good.

-🪐

-I'm so glad you caught that cause I definitely wanted to show Azzi's -in a way forced- independence where she's had to become her own protector without Paige

-YES! I was wondering if someone would bring up what Ruthie said last chapter and I'm glad you did because that's definitely a part of the conflict. And without giving anything away, I do have a conversation/argument planned where they're forced to confront their different viewpoints on the two sides of the coin your brought up

-I have seen My Best Friend's wedding but it's definitely been a bit but I agree, I always thought he was settling at the end. And the last scene is proof because it clearly wasn't all that platonic if he wanted to kiss her. But he found all his "perfects" in something else or at least he found what he wanted to see, which is exactly what Paige found with Olivia.

-Did she hear if? 👀

-See I did not think of that but it doesn't feel like a reach. Timing has been an issue but better late than never right?

-The team (Azzi) knows Paige's contract is short but the implication is that she'll likely renew because stars of Paige's calibre don't necessarily just go to a team for a year. It's like Stewie with the Libs where she was signed for year last year and then cored now. The deal with the Liberty in the fic is not public and something that's been negotiated off the books. How big of a conflict will that be? Guess we'll find out.

-LMAO well I do have a lot more planned then just proposal- wedding. Suffice to say we're headed for more than 12 chapters lmao.

-Ahahha another one for the let the gays fuck agenda huh?

#ask #fic talk #notes time with nivi 💅🏽#🪐 anon my dearest <3 #wouldn't it be funny if i made y'all stress only for everything to stay happy the whole time?

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 2 years ago

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The Flip Side Part 6

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.5k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: So glad to be going home soon! I can go places on my own and I can wear shorts without being stared at! Yayy! Will reread this later to look for the damned flipped dialogue🙄. Enjoy!

Warnings: angst, smut, being arrested, threats of violence

Unfortunately, Wanda was no stranger to stress and anxiety. Even before meeting you, she’d been an anxious person who’d often lose sleep or hair over certain things that brought her stress. She would say; however, that since meeting you this had gotten a lot worse. Your lifestyle and your very existence was a dangerous, unpredictable one that Wanda had accepted into her life without fully understanding it. She’d learned quickly that in order to cope with the stress, she had to practice both mindfulness and blissful ignorance.

Despite how well these have served her in the past, she knew that this wasn’t an option tonight. She’s not sure if she’s ever felt this stressed, and she’d ended up taking one of your meds when you told her about what was going to happen to you tomorrow. The idea of you being sent to jail for an indefinite amount of time for a crime you didn’t commit was making her blood pressure skyrocket.

You’d told her everything that Bucky and Nat had shared with you. She knew you didn’t do this because you’d been with her the entire day that Jacobs was killed. She hadn’t realized that you had planned to target him, but now that she did, she wondered the same thing as you and the rest of your friends.

Who wanted to beat you to it so badly just to frame you?

The idea of anyone putting in that much work to get you in jail and out of the way was a little daunting, and no one wanted to consider the significance of this. Once your friends leave, you and Wanda are left sitting at the dining room table in silence as your wife tries to process the bad news. Boone is sitting by your side because he can tell you’re anxious and he goes between licking your hand and laying his head on your leg to comfort you. Natalya is asleep at this point, but Wanda has the baby monitor sitting on the table in front of her as she pets Fat Louise as she purrs in her lap.

“How confident are you that your attorney can get you out of jail?”

Under any other circumstance you would say that you had no doubt that your friend Gavin could get you out within hours. He was a brilliant attorney who was well-respected and you’d rarely seen him lose. That said, given the number of unknowns with your situation, it’s hard for you to determine what factors, or rather people could be working against you. This means that something that seems easy and straight forward might take a little more time and effort. You don’t want to tell Wanda this because she’ll worry with you, but she deserves to know the truth. You don’t want to tell her you’ll be out soon and take days to actually be released.

“Hopefully within a day or two.”

Wanda’s frowning as she mulls this over before shaking her head. She’s not going to stress about this particular detail for too long, at least she’s going to pretend like she won’t. She hates the idea of you being away from her, and being vulnerable in jail all by yourself. She also, belatedly, realized that you won’t be around to make her feel safe in her own home. The security system and the personnel downstairs were still there of course, but they weren’t you. You answer her next question before she gets a chance to ask it.

“I’ll make sure that someone is keeping you as updated as possible. If Gavin’s busy then maybe Bucky or Steve will keep in touch.”

Wanda just nods in silence as she thinks about how much she hates this. She’s so stressed about all of this that she understands why it triggered a panic attack for you. She takes a deep breath and puts Fat Louise on the ground with a groan. You’re breathing deeply as you try to figure out how to deal with the antsy feelings that’s come over you. You’re just waiting around to get arrested, and the lack of control over the situation made you want to binge.

You realize what you have to do as soon as you remember that Yelena had left a full bottle of wine behind. Wanda had asked her to because she’d considered drinking it, but now she knew it wouldn’t make her feel better. If anything, she’d be paranoid that she would miss you leaving. Wanda looks up as she watches you stand and head for the kitchen without a word. She’s not sure what’s you’re doing, but when you grab a knife and a bottle opener, Wanda’s on her feet.

“Y/n? What are you doing?”

Wanda walks towards you and just watches as you cut the metal off of the top of the bottle to reveal the cork before starting to open it up. You can’t remember the last time you did this and your hands are practically shaking in anticipation. You shake your head as you finish up and pull out the cork, but you don’t let Wanda fret for long.

“I’m getting rid of this so I don’t think about it all night. Unless you wanted some?”

Wanda shakes her head before watching as you pour the entire bottle of 0.5% alcohol wine down the drain. She watches you relax slightly once it’s gone and you put the bottle in recycling before taking another deep breath. You’re bracing yourself on the counter and you turn to Wanda with an apologetic look that she appreciates but doesn’t know what to do with.

“I’m sorry, Wands. I don’t know how this happened, but we’ll figure it out.”

After checking on Natalya and the dogs one last time, you and Wanda end up in bed exhausted but not anywhere ready to sleep. You know that as soon as you wake up, you’re going to have to leave your wife and daughter for a stuffy interrogation room followed by a cold jail cell. You resist the urge to text Gavin again just to be sure he’s on standby. He’d texted earlier just to reassure you that he would be ready to come to your aid, and after thanking him you’d had to tamp down the urge to share all of your fears with him. Instead, you put your phone away and make sure that everything is set up for your wife.

You’d long ago given her access to your bank accounts and given her power of attorney. You’d insisted she keep her money from the restaurant separate for legal purposes, but you also made sure that she knew where all of your important documents were including your will and the numerous deeds for the buildings you owned. They weren’t in the bank or in the penthouse that might be searched tomorrow depending on how things went. You try not to worry about the many weapons that are hidden around in the various rooms of your home. You turn to your wife and wonder if she’d be willing to hear what you feel you have to say. Luckily your time together has been enough for her to be able to read you like a book.

“I know what you’re going to say, Y/n. I’ll make sure that everything is taken care of. “

You’re still frowning by the time you lie down next to your wife. You hate the idea of cops in your house. You just hate cops period, but the idea of them searching for something in your house makes you nervous. Other than weapons they’re not much else of value. You have a safe with money, extra magazines and some jewelry. You hope that Gavin keeps them from coming here, but you’ll have to worry about that later. If they did end up here, you’re at least glad that you have the dogs to keep an eye on them.

“Can you come over here, please?”

A few seconds later you’re in your wife’s arms on her side of the bed. You sigh happily as Wanda kisses the top of your head. She’s very stressed right now, but she knows that there’s nothing she can do about it. She just has to let this run its course and once you’re arrested, she’ll talk to Gavin and figure out what his plan is. Then maybe their friends can figure out who’s behind all of this.

” I know this is scary, detka, but we’ll figure it out.”

You’re still frowning after Wanda says this and she sighs in defeat before turning slightly so she can look at you. You speak up before she gets a chance to ask, and you meet her gaze with a worried one.

“I hate that I have to leave you and Nat.”

Wanda won’t lie. She hates this too. She can’t remember the last time you went away on business and left her in the penthouse alone. Definitely not since having Natalya, and that made the idea even scarier. She knew where all the weapons you kept in their home were, and she had five, well really three dogs that she’s sure would protect her and Natalya if necessary. She hopes it doesn’t come to this, and she reminds herself that she won’t be completely alone either way. She still has your friends and her brother.

“I do too, but we’ll have Pietro to keep us company until you come back. Don’t take too long though.”

This brings a smile to your face which is what Wanda was aiming for, and she smiles victoriously. You know that she’s only partially kidding because despite loving and appreciating her brother’s presence he can be a lot sometimes, and she’d prefer your company on most days. You just hold Wanda for a while and try to relax, but you keep thinking about what could happen to you once you’re in jail. You hate it but you’re a pessimist and you have no idea how long you’ll be in there for. You know how risky it is for you to be locked up because it only takes minutes for your enemies to figure this out and try to use it to their advantage.

The most important thing to you is your family, and you were going to ask Bucky or Steve to keep watch on them regardless of if Pietro comes to stay with Wanda. You don’t want to risk anything happening. You tighten your grip around Wanda’s waist without realizing it and she sighs slightly before squeezing your hand to get your attention. She can easily tell that you’re fretting, and she wants to help you feel better, if possible. She knows that this is not a situation that she is really prepared for.

“You’re stressing yourself out, Y/n. Is there anything I can do to help you relax?”

You want to say a lot of things that might help you relax. Only a couple are viable options given that you’ve quit drugs and alcohol so you just shake your head as you move as close as possible to your wife with a ragged sigh.

“You being here with me is all I need, Wands. Thank you. For earlier too.”

Wanda’s hold on you tightens as she kisses your head with a smile you don’t see, but you can hear clearly. Wanda’s more than happy to just hold you all night long. Especially since she’s not sure when she’ll be able to have you here again. She feels the same way about pulling you out of your panic attacks. As much as she hates them, she loves the feeling that she gets when you come back to yourself. It’s a combination of intense relief, pride, and a smidge of sadness. Regardless of how difficult things could be, she’ll be here for you tomorrow, the next day, and every one after that.

“I love you, detka. You don’t have to thank me for that.”

You wholeheartedly disagree, but you’re not in the mood to argue with your wife. You just want to cherish the rest of the night that you have together. You look up at her and kiss your way to her mouth. Your first attempt is on her chin because you can’t see in the dark, and the second is on her cheek. When you finally find your wife’s lips you initiate a chaste kiss that eventually becomes heated.

“I love you too, Wands. I don’t deserve how good you are to me.”

Wanda’s protests are cut short as your hands begin to wander down from her waist to her hips. She hisses as you squeeze her thighs with a groan. Your wife’s thighs are probably one of your favorite parts of her body. You shift so you’re able to get a better hold of them as you continue to kiss your wife. Wanda’s breathing is slightly labored when she breaks your kiss and reaches down to catch your wrist as your fingers brush her inner thigh.

“You don’t have to, Y/n.”

No matter how much Wanda would love to do this with you she doesn’t want you to feel obligated. She also doesn’t want this to turn into something too desperate. She refuses to believe you won’t come back to her soon. She’ll make it happen somehow. It doesn’t matter who she has to go after.

Your smartass response is paired with a smile as you try to pull your hand free. You never feel put upon with Wanda, and you would certainly never see sex as an obligation.

“I know I don’t, Wands. I don’t have to do anything technically.”

You don’t get the reaction you’d expected, and you frown as Wanda’s grip on your wrist tightens as she shoots you a stern look that’s lost to the darkness. She shakes her head before leaning in so she can speak directly into your ear. She feels you shudder as she speaks, and she feels you nod almost immediately.

“That’s not true. You have to come back to me and Natalya, Y/n. No matter what. We need you. “

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you nod again in understanding mixed with relief. You’ll make sure you’re back to your wife and daughter as soon as possible. No matter how much Wanda feels that she needs you, you’re certain you need the two of them more. You’re not sure where you would have ended up without Wanda.

“I always will. You don’t have to worry about that, my dear.”

Instead of offering a verbal response, Wanda kisses you again and she releases your wrist with a sigh. You don’t take this as permission to continue though, and you break apart for just long enough to ask.

“Can I touch you, please?”

Wanda doesn’t have the willpower to tell you no when she really wants you to do just that. She nods before she’s reaching out for your arms, squeezing your biceps with a smile as she parts her legs slightly.

“Yes, please.”

You waste no time reaching between your wife’s legs to see if she’s ready. She jumps slightly and hisses as your fingers slide through her heat over her shorts. Wanda curses as you start to suck and bite her neck. You’re not shy about it but you make sure that it won’t leave marks as you sneak your hand past the waistband of your wife’s too small shorts.

“Oh shit!”

Wanda gasps as you slide your fingers through her wet folds, dipping them inside just enough for Wanda to tense up in anticipation. You moan at the fact that Wanda is practically dripping against your hand. You want to drag this out and do this right, but it’s late and you do need to sleep to prepare for tomorrow’s shit show. For this reason, you don’t hesitate long before you’re pushing your fingers deeper as you curl them against the soft spot that makes Wanda mewl desperately. She doesn’t hold back the loud whine as she starts to rock her hips toward you silently urging you to go faster.

“Fuck, oh-oh God!”

Wanda tenses further as your free hand squeezes her breast. If you had more time, you’d take off her shirt, but you’re almost positive that if you stopped what you were doing to get better access to her chest, Wanda would not be happy. With this in mind, you continue to push and curl your fingers as Wanda’s breath starts to hitch. When her movements become more desperate, you use your thumb to circle her clit to push her over the edge.

You muffle her loud moans with a kiss, and Wanda bites your lower lip with a groan as she takes in the feeling of her orgasm hitting her hard. She’s still panting when you pull your hand free, and she immediately reaches out for your hand before you can take it too far away.

“That was amazing,”

When you feel Wanda’s mouth around your fingers, you groan loudly and feel the pressure between your legs intensify. You wish more than anything that you could see what Wanda looks like as she sucks your fingers, but your imagination and previous experience are enough to get you painfully turned on. When she releases them with an audible ‘pop’ you imagine that she’s smirking at you in satisfaction.

“But now it’s my turn, detka.”

When you wake up the next morning, it’s earlier than you thought, but later than you could have hoped for given the circumstances. You leave your wife briefly to check on Natalya, but when you confirm that she’s still resting soundly, you decide that you need to take a shower. It seems silly given that you’ll undoubtedly get dirty, maybe even bloody in jail, but you want to face the police looking your best. You don’t want to appear as intimidated as you’re sure you’ll feel.

Returning to your room, you see that Wanda’s still sleeping peacefully and you smile before retreating into the bathroom with an inaudible sigh. You’re not sure how much time you’ll have so you take a relatively quick shower, and immediately check your phone when you get back to the bedroom. You have no new messages and that makes you more nervous than you thought it would.

Despite planning on staying home until the cops came to find you, you didn’t intend to let them up to the penthouse if you could help it. You don’t want them near Wanda, your daughter, or your dogs. Despite their lack of training for this particular behavior, your shepherds really didn’t like cops. Boone once barked and tried to lunge at one that you walked by, and Rogue actually bit one who was trying to grab you.

“Hey, detka.”

Wanda’s watching as you fluff your hair with a towel while looking for a change of clothes. She feels her smile widen when you turn to her with both of your towels in your hand. She doesn’t have time to sit up before you slide onto the bed to greet her. She giggles at you before meeting your lips in a quick kiss. She wonders how long you’ve been up, but she waits to ask this as you sigh before rolling onto your side. You close your eyes and reach out to pull your wife closer.

“Morning, Wands. How did you sleep?”

Surprisingly well despite knowing that she would be waking up this morning with very little time with you. She’s actually a little surprised that she didn’t have to wake up earlier to say goodbye. She’s at least grateful that they’d waited. She tells you some of this and you smile widely before considering your options. You’re a little hungry, but you wouldn’t mind staying in bed for a little bit longer.

About ten minutes later you and Wanda roll out of bed to get dressed. You dress up a little more than you typically would, but you’re expecting company and Wanda seems to realize this as well. She wears her normal clothes before promising to meet you in the kitchen after she checks on Natalya.

The dogs are fed and let outside by the time that Wanda wakes up Natalya. You’re warming up a bottle while juggling eggs and orange juice as you grab a pan from the cupboard.

“Hey, I have her breakfast going. I was just getting started on ours.”

Wanda nods before stepping in to help you and this time you don’t protest as she helps you cut the time down by half. You don’t want to show it but you feel slightly rushed and want to make sure you can eat and spend a little time with your wife and daughter before being carted off to jail.

Boone’s sitting beside you as you eat when your phone vibrates beside you. You can’t help but stiffen and start to sweat until you grab it and see that it’s Bucky. Your feeling of relief only lasts for a second until you read the message.

They should be there in about 15 minutes.

You sigh heavily and type out a quick reply before setting your phone down. Wanda’s looks to you expectantly and you just nod before standing up to clean the dishes.

“They’ll be here in 15 minutes.”

Wanda isn’t surprised by the feeling of dread that overcomes her at this news. She’d been waiting for this moment for over 12 hours, but she hadn’t realized how ill-prepared for it she was. How did one really prepare to send their wife off to jail, even if only for a bit? Thinking back to last night, she’s not sure she’d change anything about it. She just wishes this moment wouldn’t come.

You realize that your wife is tense with anticipation and you frown before abandoning the dishes for now. You set them back down before moving so you’re kneeling at Wanda’s side. You look to Rogue who is now at eye level on Wanda’s other side before putting a hand on her leg with a sigh.

“I know this is scary, love. I’m not sure there’s much I can say to make it any easier, but just know that I’ll be back, okay?”

Wanda reaches out to squeeze your hand as she wipes tears from her eyes. You hate how upset she is and you kiss her hand before giving her all the reassurance you really can right now.

“I will be back, Wanda. I promise I won’t leave you.”

When you and Wanda manage to get around to cleaning the kitchen you hear the obnoxious buzzer go off only a minute after you sit down on the couch with Wanda. You reluctantly pull away from her and Natalya to confirm that this is your entourage.

“Hello?”

There’s a pause as you lift your finger off the button, and you turn down the volume quickly when a booming voice comes through the speaker. You frown at the familiar voice and the use of the word ‘we’. Of course, this wouldn’t be without excessive force. As per usual.

“Y/N, Y/L/N this is Chief Donner with the Chicago PD, we need you to come down to the lobby.”

You hold back the strong urge to sass him and tell him that you’ll be down there at some point, but not anytime soon. You look to your wife who’s holding Natalya tightly in her arms. She’s gotten up at this point and you just take a deep breath before deciding to get this over with. Dragging it out would only be fun for you, but you’re sure Wanda would rather you cooperate so you don’t get into any further trouble. You’re not even going to bother mentioning how many times this man has threatened to come after you. He’s probably near gleeful to finally be able to knock on your door – so to speak.

“I’ll be right down, Chief.”

You walk over to where your wife is fretting, and you offer her a smile before leaning over to kiss your daughter.

“I love you little one, be good for Mommy while I’m gone.”

Wanda can’t help but tear up again and you quickly wipe them away with a serious look. You love both Wanda and your daughter more than you could put into words. You’re not sure what you’d do without them, and you’re not about to find out. You’ll be back soon, and you’ll figure out who the hell is after you. Maybe even while behind bars. You just needed Wanda to be careful while you were gone.

“I love you so much, Wanda. I’ll be back soon.”

You kiss your wife like you’re just going out to the store, but Wanda doesn’t accept this and quickly deepens it. She pulls you closer to her side so you don’t squish Little Nat, and you wrap your arms around the duo carefully. When you have to take a break to catch your breath, Wanda pushes you away with a sigh. This isn’t easy for her and she knows that if she doesn’t get you to leave now, she’ll be dealing with however many cops are downstairs coming up to find you. She turns away before shooting you a sad look. She steps back toward you when she realizes you’re frowning, and she kisses you one more time before smiling tearfully.

“Go, detka. I’ll see you soon.”

The ride down to the lobby seems to fly by and you regret leaving your phone with Wanda. You didn’t want them to take it from you and she’d agreed to keep it. Now, you wish you’d texted your friends to tell them what was happening. You assume that Bucky did it, but you couldn’t be sure. When the elevator dings as you arrive to the ground floor you take a deep breath before preparing for the doors to open. You put on as brave a face as you can as you stand up straighter.

You’re not surprised to see the crowd of almost half a dozen cops waiting for you. You nearly roll your eyes, but the sight of your friends standing between them and you, makes your heart soar. You smile slightly as they turn to face you and you walk out of the elevator as if you own the building. Which you do.

“Good to see you guys, at least some of you.”

Steve, Bucky, Nat and Yelena had all wanted to make sure that you weren’t alone for this stressful, slightly traumatizing experience. You haven’t been arrested since you got sober and they have a feeling this won’t be a pleasant experience for many reasons. Bucky had already contacted your lawyer and he was already on his way down to the station. Yelena had volunteered to follow you once you’d been taken away just to make sure you got to where you were supposed to go. She wouldn’t put it past the cops to try and get some time alone with you. Given how long you’ve been in this business, you know all of the high-ranking officials, some of them on a first-name basis.

You’re very grateful for your friends’ presence because it gives you just enough confidence to keep it together. You can do this. You’re not alone. Your friends, your family will be there for you. They’ll get you out of jail.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?”

Unsurprisingly they tell you what they found and then one of them moves forward to handcuff you. You don’t say a word, and you shoot your friends a smile before following them out to your ride. Your anxiety is building and it’s in this moment that you realize you forgot to take your meds. Well, you’ll either get them in prison, or you’ll just have to make do.

“Y/N, Y/L/N, you are under arrest for the murder of Senator Jacobs. You have the right to remain silent…”

Wanda’s grateful for the fact that her brother shows up only 15 minutes after you leave. She realizes that someone’s briefed him of what’s going on because he doesn’t even ask about it. He asks if she’s okay, and she really doesn’t have a good answer for this so she just shrugs from where she’s sadly slumped on the couch.

Pietro frowns at his sister before he takes a seat beside her. He looks over to Natalya who is resting in her crib beside the dogs. He wonders if she’ll miss your absence, and if so how long it will take. You’ve been home more recently. But Natalya’s got to be used to you disappearing occasionally.

“I know what you’re thinking, Piet.”

Pietro knows that despite his feelings towards you, there’s a good reason for what happened today. He doesn’t think that you killed anybody because not only do you leave that to your minions, but you wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave a gun for the police to find. The only reason you’d do that is if you wanted to get caught, or if you were drunk. Given that Wanda hadn’t told him about any concerns she had, he figured that something else must be going on.

Last time he’d talked to his sister about you things hadn’t gone well, and to avoid having another argument about you he quickly shakes his head. He’d like to stay on his sister’s good side, especially if he’s going to hang out here for a few days, or however long it took for you to get back here.

“Do you? Because I was going to say that everything will be fine. Y/n didn’t do this and she’ll be back before you know it.”

Understandably, Wanda looks a little dubious as she turns to study her brother. She knows that he’s not your biggest fan. Hell, he’d tried to stop them from getting married, but Wanda had hoped that he’d come around sooner rather than later. She supposed this was later if he truly did believe this and wasn’t just telling her what she wanted to hear. She wouldn’t be surprised given that her wife was in jail for murder leaving her alone with their daughter. And their many fur children.

“Oh yeah? How do you know that? “

In the back of her mind, Wanda knows that she’s giving Pietro a hard time, but she can’t help it. She’s still miffed that her brother has so little faith in you and she feels the need to be defensive about it. You’re not here to defend yourself, not that you would if you were. You’d stopped trying to fight with your brother-in-law a couple years after marrying Wanda. It never ended well and you felt defeated and Wanda always got annoyed, so it wasn’t worth the hassle. Pietro would believe what he wanted about you, and you could only do so much to change his mind. Wanda’s thinking about the last fight you had with her brother when Pietro responds with a sigh. He realizes he probably should have been more understanding of what you’ve gone through. He was trying to be better now, but he still had a very long way to go.

He risks reaching out for his sister and putting an arm around her as you had done earlier this morning. Wanda sighs in defeat because she can’t be mad at Pietro right now. She doesn’t have enough energy to dedicate to worrying about you and staying pissed at her brother.

“Well, Y/n has always been good at accomplishing whatever she sets her mind to. Especially when it involves you, so I have no doubt that she’ll come back to you soon.”

Wanda turns into her brother so her face is against his chest. She sighs as she tightens her hold on him and considers what he’s saying. He’s right about you always doing your best to make sure she was happy. Whether that was by staying out of trouble as much as possible, or making sure that she had an attentive wife, you always did your best to show your love. This would be no different hopefully. Despite several factors being out of your control, Wanda believes what Pietro says. You have an amazing lawyer and a wonderful group of friends that would step into the line of fire for you.

“You’re just being nice to her because I’m upset.”

Pietro admits that this was his initial motivation when mentioning you, but he was serious about trying to treat you better. It was only about 6 years too late, but he was going to prove to his sister that he could get along with her wife. He didn’t dislike her, he just had trouble letting go of his instincts to protect his sister from pain and heartbreak. Unfortunately, he was so determined to do this that he failed to realize how it tended to make things worse and his relationship with his sister-in-law was nearly non-existent because of it.

“No, Wanda, I mean it. She’ll be back, and once she is she’ll eventually leave for—”

Pietro trails off before he can finish his thought and he suddenly panics at his misstep. He hadn’t meant to say this and when he feels Wanda sit up, he realizes he should have just kept his mouth shut. Wanda frowns as she shoots her brother a confused look. Why does he seem to think you’ll leave her for good? You would never do that to her and Natalya. Her frown turns into a scowl as she crosses her arms in annoyance. Just when she thought Pietro was going to try to be decent towards you.

“What the fuck does that mean? Why do you think she’ll leave?”

Pietro’s eyes widen in fear and confusion because he hadn’t expected Wanda to get this mad about it. She had to know that you were trying to take a very large step back from the business. As in you were trying to set things up so you could leave altogether. This is a long-term goal certainly, but now that you and Wanda had Natalya, he couldn’t imagine that you wanted to return to your larger, more dangerous role. He scratches the back of his neck as he tries to figure out how to address his sister’s ire in the most efficient way possible.

“I just mean that she’s taking small steps away from the business so she can leave for good. “

Wanda’s anger evaporates like smoke once she realizes that she and her brother are talking about something completely different. She shakes her head at her own insecurity and doubt towards her brother before offering him an apologetic look. Things are a little tense right now, and she couldn’t deny that watching you leave this morning had felt like a goodbye. She wanted to believe that you would be back soon, but there were no guarantees in life, no matter how rich or influential you were.

“Sorry, Piet. I thought you meant something else. I guess that is a good thing.”

That’s putting it lightly, but Wanda doesn’t have the capacity to think about that right now. No matter how much she’d like you to retire and just spend your time with her in the restaurant with Natalya. She knows that you couldn’t do that any time soon, and trying to would be riskier than any of them were prepared for.

She misses her brother’s frown as he attempts to work out what Wanda had thought he’d meant. It only takes him a few seconds, especially when he noticed how flushed his sister is. Wanda gets up to check on Natalya to distract herself from what she’s sure is coming next. She briefly wonders how long it will be until she has news on you.

You’re exhausted already and it’s barely 10am. The clock on the wall of the tiny interrogation room you’re in ticks annoyingly loud as each second passes. After being brought to the station, you’d promptly gone through the booking process that brought back bad memories. You’d been strip searched, had your fingerprints taken, and gone through a too invasive health check before being told that Gavin was here to talk to you. You’d said nothing on the way here, but as you sit in this uncomfortable chair with your arms and legs in shackles you wished you’d been a little less compliant.

You think you’ve been waiting for an hour, but the clock tells you it’s only been 15 minutes before Gavin walks in to the room looking as calm and collected as usual. Thank goodness for him.

“Y/n, sorry for the hold up. They had a lot of silly questions.”

This comment is directed toward one of your guards that is standing in the corner of the room. You fight the urge to smirk at this as you shake your head and insist that it’s fine. You’re just glad that you’re not having to sit in silence anymore. You’re also very grateful when the duo leaves you alone with your lawyer.

“I appreciate you being here, Gavin.”

Your friend offers you a smile before he gets right down to it. He’s helped you multiple times in the past, but this is the first case of yours that you’ve been charged with murder. There has never been sufficient evidence to get you in a room like this more than a couple of times. He was sure that you were innocent because he believed you when you said you were at home with your wife and daughter when Jacobs had been murdered. This had also been corroborated with your building’s security team, but this wasn’t enough considering the fact that they’d found your prints on the murder weapon.

He says all of this and watches as your frown deepens at the news that this case is not going to be as straightforward as you’d hoped for. You knew that DNA was always tricky to get around, but it wasn’t impossible. You wonder how they’re going to do this for only a second before Gavin fills you in on his progress so far.

“We’re having the lab try to age the fingerprints, but that can take 24 – 48 hours. The only thing we could think of is that the prints were old, and maybe someone else used that gun to frame you. Hopefully once we get that information, we can prove that you didn’t do this and you’ll be out of here.”

You like the sound of this plan, but you don’t like how long the timeframe is. It’s relatively short all things considered, but any time away from your family and in this hellhole is too long. However, you know you can’t complain because this is the best that Gavin can do. You’re impressed and you ask if he has anything else you should know, and he hesitates for a moment before saying no.

“Why did you hesitate?”

Your friend frowns as he considers how to best break the news to you. Despite being a high-profile individual and the inherent risk that lies in housing you with other inmates, you’ve been denied solitary. You can’t stop the slight panic you feel at this and you are already thinking of ways that you can defend yourself.

“You’re going to be housed with two other women.”

You groan under your breath before nodding and pretending like this wasn’t going to bother you.

“Thank you, Gavin. Let me know when we have more answers, please.”

When Gavin leaves, you’re escorted by your babysitters to a holding cell that, as advertised, has two women in it. You don’t even look at them at all as you figure out how you’re going to get out of this mess, or at least to a more private cell.

“Why do you think that Y/n will leave you?”

It didn’t make any sense to Pietro why his sister would think this. He’s focused more attention on your flaws than he should have, but he’d be blind not to notice how much you love his sister. You’d been through hell and back with her by your side, and you’d told your friends that sometimes you think you’d only been able to do it because of her. Having a definitive goal and proper motivation to recover had been enough, and for you that was your fiancée and your desire to have a life and a family together. You’d shown no indication that you were no longer interested in that.

Wanda shakes her head as she picks up Natalya and wanders over to where the dogs are sitting on the floor in front of the couch. She smiles as she pets Rogue and Boone before sitting back down. She and her brother sit in silence for a while as Wanda rocks Nat back to sleep.

“She’s doing so well right now, but I guess I always have this fear that she’ll relapse and our life together will go down the tubes.”

Pietro can’t help but wonder how much of this fear his sister has is due to his behavior over the years. He hates that something he’d done for her own good is causing her more anguish than comfort and he promises himself that he’ll do better. His sister deserves better. Pietro shakes his head as gets on the floor and reaches for Wanda’s hands with a sigh. One is behind Natalya’s back making it a little awkward, but he doesn’t care. He needs Wanda to listen to him when he says this. Wanda looks to him with a frown and he offers her a smile that immediately makes her roll her eyes.

“Wands, you know how hard she’s worked for you, for all of you. She’s going to be okay. She has her family’s support, and she’ll only be away for a day or so. Nothing more.”

Wanda doesn’t respond, but she moves back so she can lean against her brother again with a sigh. She rests her head on his shoulder, and she tries to believe what he says. You’ve given her no reason to be worried, but any disruption to your schedule, your life, this extreme could be difficult to deal with. Hopefully it will be as temporary as you and Pietro think.

“Well, if it isn’t Y/n. What did you do to wind up in here?”

Your first instinct that you’d run into these women before was unfortunately right, and they were cornering you now as they tried to intimidate you. You just sit on your uncomfortable cot with your back to the wall, and as neutral an expression as possible. You know that these two are employees of one of your rivals – she’s a giant pain in the ass. You had limited run ins with them, but unfortunately, they remembered you and were aware of your existence in this too small cell. You look around the sparse, dirty room and wonder if you’ll be able to sleep here. The bars of the door are just big enough for you to bash your head against and maybe knock yourself out if necessary.

“What do any of us really do to get here, Nikki?”

The brunette just scowls at you before her friend, the taller and scarier one steps forward with a sinister smile. The last time you’d seen this woman, it had been at a drug deal and a fight broke out which was unfortunate for many reasons. Not only did you not get all of your product, but the redhead had punched you so hard in the gut that it hurt to sit for days.

“We’ve been off the streets for a while, Y/L/N. Have you not noticed?”

This question catches you off guard but you hide it quickly behind a flippant attitude that only angers them further. You have to hide your smug look because you’ve been in here for 10 minutes, and that’s a little fast to get beaten up.

“Oh yeah, I have been looking for you specifically in between doing actual work.”

The duo stare at you like they want to say more, but as a guard walks by, they decide to keep it to themselves for now. You just watch with a sigh as they retreat and you try to relax for a split second. You’ve been so tense since you got here and you are just counting down the hours until you get out. It’s 23 to 47 by now, right?

You take a moment to consider what your friends are doing right now. Were they working? Probably, Gavin was the only one who was working your case at the moment, and that was on standby while they waited for the lab to finish processing your fingerprints. Maybe they were trying to figure out who was framing you. It seemed difficult given the amount of evidence that everyone had. It unfortunately all pointed to you.

This thought makes you pause and you wonder for the first time how your fingerprints could be on a gun you never used. Or at least don’t remember using. The first thought that comes to mind is that you were drunk, and you hate it but it’s a viable option. If you were drunk when you last used this gun it’s very probable that you don’t remember it. That said, you have been sober for years, and how would anyone just happen to find a gun of yours and preserve it well enough to pull this off?

You’re shaking your head at the ridiculous thought before you consider other options. These are honestly more disturbing than someone finding and keeping one of your guns for years. You consider how someone could get your fingerprint. Gavin mentioned aging the prints found on the murder weapon, and you realize that this means he’s thinking the same thing as you. Someone was framing you, but they were going to extreme lengths to do it. The premeditation involved in following you, and lifting your prints is a little daunting. You can think of a single person who would go to so much trouble.

The two occupying the cell with you turn as you noticeably stiffen in your cot. Your eyes widen before you try to shake the ridiculous thought. There’s no way that’s possible. You’re just grasping at straws. Killing time with ridiculous theories. You take a deep breath before closing your eyes and trying to calm down. You try to picture the usual go-to for you when you’re feeling overwhelmed, and you end up smiling a little at the thought of your wife.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Wanda realizes that she’s being rude when Steve just smiles sheepishly at her as he steps off the elevator. Since you’ve left, she’s been on high alert, and the sound of the elevator going off made her jump up to go investigate. She knew that only a handful of people had access to it, but she couldn’t help but want to make sure she was prepared for anything.

After checking her phone to see the camera feed for the elevator she recognizes the familiar face and releases the breath she’d been holding. She greets her friend and he follows her toward the kitchen for a drink.

“I just came to check in, and give an update. Hey Pietro.”

The older Maximoff waves before he stands up to greet the blonde. He’s also thirsty and when he sees his sister grab a couple of glasses, he takes this as a chance to get some water. Natalya is sleeping, but he brings her along to the kitchen as Wanda pretends not to fret by heading to the fridge.

“Okay, that’s good. Do either of you want a beer?”

Pietro and Steve exchange confused looks, and the former turns to his sister who’s clearly flustered as she shakes her head.

“What am I saying, we don’t have any beer. There’s not a drop of alcohol in this place.”

Wanda looks surprisingly distraught by this fact, and Steve is quick to step in and try to bring her attention back to him. The feeling of his hand on her arm makes her turn and she sees his reassuring smile and instantly believes what he says.

“Wanda. It’s okay really. It’s good news.”

When the trio are sitting at the table with Natalya in Wanda’s lap Steve tells the Maximoffs what he’d been told a bit ago. He’d been on standby today since Bucky is covering for him, so he can keep an eye on Wanda. You’d asked him before you were arrested to keep Wanda safe, and to stick annoyingly close until either you were out of jail or when they had more answers about what was going on. There was still very little progress on finding out who was behind all of this, and you were worried. You’d tried to hide it, but you’d been so anxious that your nervous tick had come back. He hadn’t seen it in almost a year.

Steve takes a deep breath as he waits for either Maximoff to react to what he’s said. Wanda appears deep in thought and Pietro is just looking at his sister in anticipation. When almost a minute passes and she doesn’t speak, Pietro decides to take the lead for now.

“So Gavin thinks that she’s been framed with either an old gun of hers or someone stealing her fingerprints?”

It sounded far-fetched and Pietro had a difficult time working through this. He wasn’t the only one and Wanda just shakes her head a couple of times before looking between the two in front of her with a grimace. The idea of someone going to such extreme lengths to get you into jail makes her wonder what the master plan is. She doesn’t know enough about what you do to really hazard a guess, but she’s afraid that this isn’t the only thing that’s going to happen.

“All of this just to get Y/n into jail? Does someone just want her out of the way for a while?”

Neither Steve nor Pietro had an answer for this and they shrugged or shook their head in response. Wanda sighs in defeat as she considers what else Steve told her. The good news supposedly.

“As long as the lab results show that the fingerprints are older than say last week, she’ll be free to go?”

That was Steve’s understanding, and unless something else came up you should be able to get out if they couldn’t find any other evidence to pin the crime on you. Your alibi was pretty solid.

“That’s the hope.”

Wanda just nods absentmindedly as she dares to wonder what you’re up to right now. She hates the idea of you sitting alone in a jail cell because she knows you’re counting down the hours until you should get out. Hopefully you are alone because Wanda can’t imagine how a reunion with any other criminals you’ve wronged will go behind bars.

By the time dinner is brought to you and your cellmates, two of you have black eyes. You’d gotten into a fight about which cot you’d get of all things. They’d tried to get you to sleep on the floor just to spite you, and you’d decked the taller one, Tanner in the face. She’d punched you back, and now you were bruised and just sitting back on your same bed. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to sleep tonight. You’re a little worried about getting killed in your sleep with these two. They could gang up on you and smother you with a pillow or just strangle you with their bare hands.

“Dinner, ladies. Good to see you’re all getting along.”

You look to the three trays the guard is holding with a grimace. Whatever it is smells gross and looks even worse, but you stand up nonetheless to grab your tray with a tight smile. You’re not going to eat this, but you’re not going to give it to the duo that immediately begin eating their meal. You go back to your side of the cell and sit down with a huff.

This was going to be a long night.

Yelena released an annoyed huff as she looked around the bar for her sister. She was running late which was a bit of a surprise, but she figured she just got caught up with work. She had a deal that she needed to supervise tonight and as much fun as that wasn’t, it was necessary to continue work even while you were locked up. In fact, it was probably more important just to make sure that things continued to run smoothly. Your absence couldn’t be noticed by your employees. Even if they were aware of it, things still needed to go according to plan in order to keep their loyalty intact. It was something that you might not care about too much at the moment, but it was still important. It only made their jobs more difficult, not to mention dangerous if people became less compliant.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Natasha sits down on the stool next to her sister with a sigh as she looks around for the bartender. She really needs a drink and she only has a little time before she has to run and deal with this shit show that’s developed throughout the day.

Unfortunately, people weren’t as ignorant of your arrest as they were hoping. Of course, it was on the news and this type of thing spread like wildfire among the minions. People were starting to get uncertain about the future and it was causing a lot of delays. She’d already had to convince three vendors that you would be out of prison soon and you would expect them to have continued to work in your absence. It was exhausting, but Nat had been able to confirm that everything would be set to go down in an hour. She just had to show up and make sure things went smoothly.

“You look tired, sestra. Was the deal that bad?”

Nat groans at the question and she reaches out for her drink with a shake of her head. She tells her sister how things have not even happened yet. She’d just had a lot to figure out on the front end, and it was certainly going to be a long night. Yelena frowns at this and as she watches her sister down her drink, she realizes what she needs to do.

She doesn’t have much to do tonight and she can tell that Natasha could use a break. Or at least another drink. She glances at her phone to check the time and make sure that no one has called on her for anything before she reaches out for her sister. She slaps her on the shoulder making the redhead scowl before she turns to her with a questioning look.

“Let me handle it, Natasha. It’s just making sure everyone behaves right? I do that all the time.”

Nat’s already shaking her head because she should be there. She should be the one to make sure that everything goes according to plan. She is going to say this but Yelena speaks up first with a shrug and a smirk.

“Seriously, sestra. You need to rest, you look exhausted. Maybe you and Bucky can relax together.”

When a peanut comes flying at Yelena’s face, she has to duck to avoid it. She scowls at her sister who just laughs at her expression, and then what she says next. She figures that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take the night off from this particular duty to try and figure out how things are going with your investigation. Maybe she’ll check in with Steve and see how Wanda’s doing.

“Natasha don’t throw those at me. You know I’m allergic.”

An eyeroll is the only response that Yelena gets until Nat registers her sister’s words with a frown. She turns toward her before deciding that she could get another drink before heading out. She closes out for both of them as her last drink comes.

“You are not allergic. You just don’t like them.”

Yelena simply shrugs before she raises her glass to Nat’s with a smile. They drink in silence for a minute, both lost in their thoughts before Nat turns to the blonde with a grateful look.

“Thank you, sestra.”

Yelena waves her off before deciding that she should head out too. She has a bit of a drive and it’s better to show up early to these things. As she stands up with her sister she wraps and arm around her shoulders, only having to stand on her tip toes a little as she leads Nat to the doors. Tonight, would hopefully be a piece of cake compared to what you had to do tonight. Yelena knew how much you hated disruptions to your routine, and being thrown in a holding cell was certainly a disruption. God forbid you weren’t alone; you’d probably be too paranoid to sleep at all.

“Not a problem. This will be easy as cake.”

Nat laughs as she opens the door for them, immediately breathing in deeply so the cool air will rush into her lungs.

“Pie. Easy as pie.”

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