#he does make progress i promise i refuse to leave this man lost forever!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marjansmarwani · 4 years

Text

tender-hearted sadness pulls me through the day

7.9k || ao3

Carlos is hurt, badly, and TK is faced both with the awful possibility of losing him and the fact that his parents still don't know about them. He promised Carlos he could tell them in his own time though, and he doesn't intend to break that promise for anything. Even if it means he can't be there, even if it means he has to hope from a distance. He would do anything for Carlos, after all.

aka that Carlos’s parent’s fic I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. It’s finally done and since @officereyes was the one who insisted I write it in the first place and it is her birthday, it feels only right to offer it as a part 2/on the actual correct day gift (surprise). I hope you enjoy it Jamie!

This idea was also requested by @noxsoulmate after I had already started writing it so I also hope you enjoy, and that it was worth the wait! This was started around the same time that 2x04 aired so it is definitely no longer canon compliant, though I did tweak a few things as the season progressed. Thanks to @justaswampdemon for reading through it last night to tell me if any of it actually made sense or not because I wasn’t sure after working on it for so long!

--------------------

TK couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

They were shaking and though he had nearly scrubbed them raw he could still feel the memory of the blood that had coated them only a half-hour before. It was Carlos’s blood and the reminder sent his hands trembling all over again. The sight of the accident was still so fresh in his mind. It was everywhere, trapped in all of his senses — the fear of realizing just who it was trapped in the crushed vehicle, the overwhelming scent of the blood stuck in his head, the sound of the heart monitor flatlining and his own desperate pleas for Carlos to stay with them, the helplessness of Carlos’s life leaking away under his fingers — he couldn't shake it. He knew he wasn’t likely to until he saw Carlos, until he had proof that he was okay.

But he was also a medic and he knew that the alternative, the thing he was trying so hard not to think about, to not put any energy into, was just as likely an outcome as any.

His anxiety spiral is interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps that pause as they grow closer to his seat.

“TJ?”

He sat bolt upright at the sight of Carlos’s parents, expressions tense and eyes full of fear, before him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes,” he stammered, standing up and shoving his shaking hands into the pockets of his pants, “hi. Uh, have they told you anything yet?”

“No,” Mrs. Reyes said fearfully, “we just got here.”

TK nodded, anxiously twisting at the interior of his pockets, “I’m sure someone will be by soon,” he assured her, “he’s only been here for about an hour.”

“And how long have you been here?” Carlos’s father asked him, studying him with a piercing gaze.

“About an hour,” TK repeated, “I was on shift, we responded to the accident. I rode in on the ambulance with him and since it was the end of my shift anyways and my Captain knows Carlos and I are...close, she told me just to stay.”

He met Mr. Reyes’s gaze, refusing to look away and hoping desperately that he hadn’t noticed his falter. It wasn’t a lie, but the omission weighed on him. Never once since their start had he denied his feelings for Carlos. He had made that mistake once, in the very beginning, and it had nearly prevented what they had become. But he had no other choice; he had made Carlos a promise. And he wouldn’t break it, not for anything.

The other man’s father nodded, eyes zeroing in on the paramedic badge on his shirt. “I thought you said you were a firefighter?”

“I was, the paramedic thing is pretty new. We lost one at our station, during the volcano, and I was already dual certified from New York so…” he trailed off with a shrug, his gaze drifting from the parents before him to the doors of the trauma wing Carlos had been wheeled into upon their arrival.

“You treated him?”

TK snapped his gaze back to find Mrs. Reyes looking at him with wide eyes. He swallowed, and nodded, “I did, ma’am,” he confirmed, voice soft with repressed emotion.

“And?” she asked him desperately, eyes shining with unshed tears, “How is he? How is my boy?”

How did he tell them? How did you tell your boyfriend’s parents that not even an hour ago you had been scared out of your mind that he was going to die in your arms even as you and your team worked desperately to save him? How did you do all of that without showing the emotion, how did you do that when they don’t know — when they can’t know — that his presence is what allows you to sleep soundly each night, that his smile is the thing you most look forward to seeing each and every day?

They were both looking at him as if he held all the answers and to be fair, he did. In terms of what had happened, at least. He was just as clueless as anyone else as to what would come next.

“He was involved in a very serious accident,” he settled on. “He lost a lot of blood but we managed to get him stabilized in the field. That’s all I know though. If I knew more…”

He trailed off but Carlos’s mother shook her head, reaching out to place a warm and trembling hand on his arm, “Thank you,” she told him, “for telling us, and for saving him. Carlitos is so lucky to have such a wonderful friend.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, even though her well-intentioned words stung, even though he had to swallow what would have come next: he would do anything for Carlos.

------------

It’s another few hours before his dad and the rest of the 126 show up. He may have been exaggerating when he had told Mrs. Reyes that his shift was ending when they arrived at the hospital. The reality was that Tommy had told him to stay. She had said that she and Nancy could handle the last few hours without him and that he would be too distracted to focus for the remainder of the shift so he may as well just stay. She had been right, but that meant there had still been a shift to be finished before anyone else was available to join his vigil.

A doctor had come by, a short while ago to give them an update. The surgery had gone well and while they had repaired the damage, they cautioned them that he was not out of danger yet, that the next several hours would be key. The knowledge had settled like a lead weight in TK’s stomach, the dread seeping through his veins. He saw his own fear clearly reflected in the eyes of Carlos’s parents and knows that they are all connected by it, even if they don’t know it.

When the doctor told them that Carlos was being moved to a recovery room where he would be closely monitored and that a nurse would be by when he was settled to let them know, TK realized a whole other layer to this nightmare. He won’t be able to be there. There is no way he can justify sitting by Carlos’s bedside to his parents as a “friend from work.” In order to be there for Carlos, he would have to tell them the truth, and he can’t do that. Not when he made Carlos a promise.

That’s how his team finds him: alone in the waiting room, leg anxiously bouncing against the floor as he stares in the direction of the recovery rooms, wanting nothing more than to be able to be beside Carlos, to have concrete evidence that he hadn’t lost him.

He allowed himself to be pulled into hugs and subjected to comforting pats before anyone asks the question he’s been dreading. It’s Marjan that does, her unwavering and empathetic gaze studying him as she speaks the words: “Is he still in surgery?”

“No, he’s in recovery now.” TK assured them, allowing them a moment to take a breath of relief before he continued, “The doctors said that the next few hours will be crucial, that those will be what really makes the difference. So we’re just...hoping for the best.”

They all nodded, but Paul’s piercing gaze studied him, “If he’s in recovery, why are you out here and not in there?”

TK bit his lip, turning his gaze downwards. He and Carlos hadn’t exactly shared their conflict about his parents with their friends. If TK was being honest, he had been hoping they wouldn’t ever have to, that they would cross that bridge before it ever became an issue. Clearly, the universe had other plans.

“His parents are in there,” he replied, hoping that maybe they wouldn’t push, that maybe they could just leave it there.

But these were their friends, and they wouldn't be so easily satisfied.

“Is he not out to them?” Marjan asked gently, taking the seat beside him.

“No, he’s out to them it’s just...complicated.”

“How complicated can it be?” Judd asked as he settled into a seat across from them, “he’s out and you two are solid. Seems pretty uncomplicated to me.”

TK didn’t know how to explain it, exactly. “They don’t know he’s in a relationship,” he settled on, “and he’s not ready to tell them. We...talked about it a few months ago, and I told him that was fine. That we could move at his pace. I mean,” he broke off here with a shrug, meeting the eyes of his teammates, “it’s the least I can do for him, right? Extend him the same understanding he gave me?”

The others exchanged glances that TK couldn’t read. Judd looked in the direction of the recovery rooms, “This ain’t right kid,” he said softly, “Carlos would want you there. You should be there.”

TK shook his head firmly, “I promised him he could tell them on his own terms, Judd. I told him I would wait as long as he needed. I can’t make that choice for him, and I won’t. I made him a promise.”

There was silence in the wake of his words. The others exchanged glances and TK looked away, not wanting to see their pity. He knew he was making the right choice, but that didn’t make the reality of it any easier to face. Carlos had nearly died in his arms just a few hours ago. The cold fear of losing him was still fresh in his mind, he still hadn’t been able to shake the chill from his bones. And now he was in a room just down the hall and TK couldn’t be there. Of all the challenges they had faced, this might just be the worst one yet.

Paul let out a low breath and shook his head, “I hear you man, and it’s admirable. I get you wanting to respect Carlos’s wishes, but you’ve got to think about yourself too. Maybe it would be easier for you to not be here? Sitting here and not being able to be with him has to be hard. You could go home, wait there instead. We’ll let you know if there are any updates.”

TK gave him a tight smile, “I appreciate it, but no. Even though I can’t be with him, I can’t imagine not being as close to him as possible. I’m not going anywhere.”

------------

His friends come and go, but TK simply waits. He assures them that he’s fine when asked, but otherwise, he is not great company. All he can manage to do is sit quietly and wait. And hope. He takes a turn around the waiting room, he bounces his leg anxiously at his seat, he fiddles with his necklace. He does everything he can to keep his body busy while his mind is fully occupied.

He knows that right down the hall his boyfriend, the person who he might just love more than anyone else on this planet, is in a medically induced coma. He knows that he can’t be there, and he knows why.

That doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

That also doesn’t mean that the last image he has of Carlos — bloody and crashing on a gurney being rushed to a trauma room — is going to leave his mind any time soon. He needs to see him. He needs visual confirmation to cancel out the nightmare image running through his head. He knows that he can’t, not right now, but he won’t leave until he can.

The waiting room empties and fills again several times during his vigil. The daylight he had entered in had faded long ago and the dark night sky was visible each time the hospital doors slid open. It was still a few hours before he saw Mr. and Mrs. Reyes leave from his corner of the waiting room. They stepped through the hospital doors hand in hand, Mr. Reyes rubbing comforting circles on his wife’s back as they headed back to their car, presumably to go home and get a few hours of sleep.

TK, who had been coming close to dozing off in his seat, was suddenly wide awake. Carlos’s parents were gone, he could go see him. He was out of his seat in an instant, his feet carrying him towards the door he had been staring at all day before his head could properly catch up. It wasn’t until he neared the door that he slowed, that he processed.

It felt almost wrong to be sneaking in. He felt almost guilty for waiting for Carlos’s parents to leave, for jumping on the opportunity the moment it presented itself. But he needed to see Carlos. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to settle until he did. He could not have the last image of him in his mind be what he had looked like when they exited the ambulance. He may have gotten the same updates from the doctor but that did nothing to ease his fear. He had nearly felt Carlos die under his hands all those hours ago. He needed to feel him breathing too.

He stepped in quietly, though he knew there was no danger of waking him. He had barely made it over the threshold before he froze, nearly toppled by the wrongness of seeing Carlos so still. To the casual observer, he probably looked like he was sleeping. But TK knew Carlos Reyes. The man was an energetic sleeper. He moved constantly in the night, always shifting and reaching out to pull TK closer when he felt he had strayed too far away. Always striving to press his body against his, always keeping them close; even in sleep. But it was more than that. His face was all wrong. Carlos’s face was expressive, even in sleep. Whatever he was thinking or feeling or dreaming was always laid out in full display for TK to read but now his face was blank. That more than anything struck TK as so foreign, so unusual.

He took a deep, wavering breath as he crossed the room, running his eyes over him as he drew closer. From the outside, he didn’t look too badly injured, but TK knew with a cold certainty that most of the damage was hidden by bandages under the blankets. He knew that there was so much more to this than met the eye, that as wrong as Carlos looked in this bed it was a far sight better than the alternative — than what he had feared from the moment they arrived on the scene.

“Hey babe,” he said softly as he reached the side of the bed, reaching out to run a hand through Carlos’s curls, “you look better than you did earlier. I hope you’re feeling better too.”

He paused here, taking another moment to study him up close now. He bit his lip against the tears that wanted to come. He didn’t know how much time he would have here, he wasn’t going to waste any of it crying.

“I know it’s going to take some time,” he said instead when he managed to steady his voice, “and I want you to know you should take all the time you need. We’ll be fine until you’re ready. I’ll be fine. I just,” he broke off, took a steadying breath, and started again, “I just want you to know that I probably won’t be here a lot, just in case you ever wonder why you can’t hear me, if you can hear any of us. I need you to know it’s not because I don’t want to be here or that I don’t love you. Because I do, so much. And there is nowhere I would rather be than right here with you at all times. But I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. It’s…” he trailed off, taking another breath as he leaned forward, taking Carlos’s hand in his own, “it’s the least I can do,” he finished softly.

He lapsed into silence then, savoring in the sight of his chest lightly rising and falling with each breath. Not so long ago he thought he might never see that again. He had never realized just how much he had taken the concept for granted. He vowed that he never would again.

He leaned forward now, resting his head on the arm not intertwined with Carlos’s. “I just need you to come back to us,” he said quietly. “I need you to come back to me. I don’t want to face life without you. Don’t make me, please.”

Even though he knew there would be no reaction, even though he knew the other man was heavily sedated, he studied his face for any hint of recognition, any glimmer of hope he could sustain himself with. There was none and it was that truth and the weight of Carlos’s hand in his that saw him off into a fitful sleep.

------------

The sound of footsteps woke TK, causing him to sit bolt upright and glance around frantically, heart thudding in his chest.

“Relax,” an unfamiliar voice instructed, “we definitely don’t need a cardiac patient on our hands, on top of everything else.”

It took several tries to blink the sleep out his eyes before he could make out the scene in front of him. He was in Carlos’s room. He must have fallen asleep here. He pulled himself fully upright, stretching and rubbing at the back of his neck with a grimace as he studied the nurse checking Carlos’s vitals. She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Good morning.”

“What time is it?” he croaked out.

“Just past 6, so I’d imagine if anyone were to come back after going home to sleep for the night they’d likely be back soon.”

“How’d you…”

She shrugged as she checked Carlos’s IV, “Call it an educated guess. I mean, I know you paramedics are pretty dedicated but I have yet to see any of you spend an entire day in the waiting room for a patient. Figured there had to be a bit more to it than meets the eye. That, or I have to call security on you.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” TK said softly, reaching out to take Carlos’s limp hand in his own, tenderly rubbing his thumb across it, “but his parents don’t really know. It’s...complicated.”

The nurse’s eyes softened as she studied him, “You probably have almost an hour before anyone else shows up, visiting hours don’t officially start until 7 anyways. After that, you should try to get some sleep. You’re starting to look like you should have a bed of your own.”

TK shook his head, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding wholly unconvinced. “Well if you are around later and want an update feel free to ask for me at the nurses’ station. My name’s Becky.”

“Thank you, Becky,” he said with a small smile, “you have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

She waved off his thanks as she headed towards the door. She paused on the threshold, turning back to study him again, “Hey, Paramedic?”

“TK,” he provided.

“TK, then. If I find out you’re lying to me and that I should have called security…”

He gave her a grin and a tired laugh, “Then you know where I work,” he reminded her, gesturing towards his uniform, “pretty sure you’ll be able to track me down.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I hope everything works out for you two and for what it’s worth, he’s doing okay.”

“Thanks, Becky,” he said softly, turning his gaze back to Carlos’s still form before Becky smiled at them from the doorway and stepped quietly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

--------------------

“This is an intervention,” Paul announced.

TK looked up sharply to see his team gathered around him several hours later. He had slipped back into the waiting room around 6:30, heedful of Becky’s warning. It was now just past 10 and he was currently being stared down by his team. He furrowed his brow in confusion and was just about to ask exactly what the hell Paul meant by that when Marjan continued.

“You’ve been here for over 24 hours now, TK. You’re still wearing yesterday’s uniform, you haven’t eaten and I doubt you’ve slept much.”

“I got a few hours!” he interjected but faltered when he was met with 4 equally unimpressed looks.

“And while I’m sure that was adequate sleep,” she continued in a tone that made it clear she did not in fact believe that, “you need more than that. Preferably in a bed. Preferably in your own bed.”

TK looked down and Judd continued, voice gentle, “You need to take care of yourself, kid. You can’t be there for him if you keel over. Let us help you out.”

TK bit at his lip. He knew they were right, logically. There was only so long he could keep this up. Soon enough his body would start protesting. He could already feel the effects of little sleep and no food in his sluggish thoughts. Realistically he knew they were right, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Carlos. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. The thought that something might happen when he wasn’t there was enough to keep him rooted to his spot in the waiting room, consequences be damned. “I can’t leave him,” he choked out, “if something were to happen…”

He trailed off, but Paul simply shook his head, “Nope, you’re coming with us. Judd and I are going to take you home. You’re going to shower, change, eat something and get at least 4 hours of sleep. Then - and only then - we’ll bring you back. Marjan and Mateo will stay here and let us know if anything changes. If it does we’ll bring you right back, promise.”

TK scanned the faces of his friends. They wore matching looks of determination, and he knew that this was not an argument he was going to win. He nodded, pulling himself out of his seat and throwing another glance in the direction of Carlos’s room. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see Marjan giving him a sad smile, “Don’t worry, we won’t let you miss anything.”

“Yeah dude, we’ve got this!” Mateo assured him as he plopped into an empty seat.

TK gave them both a grateful smile. He wished he could have offered more, but he couldn’t find the words. Nothing his mind produced seemed adequate enough to express the level of gratitude he felt for each and every one of them. He hoped they knew.

He allowed himself to be led to Judd’s truck and as they pulled away from the hospital, his mind began to wander. Logically, he knew Carlos was in good hands, that leaving the hospital did nothing to hurt his chances. But not being there just felt wrong, as if he was tempting fate. As if his desperate hope could only have an effect from within the same building.

TK was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice how close they were to their destination until the truck came to a halt outside of the condo. He froze as he looked at it, the thought of stepping foot inside their shared home without Carlos washing over him. He knew he was being too quiet, he knew that the other two had noticed that something was wrong. Judd eyed him in the rearview mirror.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “I can bring you to your dad’s if you’d rather, but I figured all your stuff is here so…”

“No,” TK said, voice too soft. “No,” he tried again, voice a little more sure this time, “you’re right Judd, all my stuff is here. It’s fine, really. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah, we’re not just going to leave you,” Paul told him, pushing open the passenger side door and climbing out, “we’re staying with you to make sure you actually do the things covered in our bargain. Plus,” he added in a gentler tone as he opened TK’s door and met his eyes, “you don’t need to be alone right now.”

TK swallowed and nodded. He slid out of the truck without a word, crossing to the front door and pulling his keys out of his pocket. He inserted his key into the door with trembling hands and pushed it open, holding it open behind him for Judd and Paul. Once they were all inside he shut it behind them, the sound of the lock clicking into place the only sound. They stood in silence as TK looked around, trying to take in the once familiar surroundings that now felt so foreign. The clutter of day to day life was scattered throughout the living space, left waiting for them to return home and resume their lives. It was a cruel reminder of just how sudden this had been; of how much they stood to lose.

Paul gave him a gentle shove towards the stairs, interrupting his reverie, “Go and get showered and changed, we’ll work on the food. Come back down when you’re ready.”

TK nodded and ascended the stairs without a word. He entered their bedroom without really looking at anything, making a beeline for the dresser so as to avoid the sight of the haphazardly made bed; left rumpled when they had both decided on a late start the previous morning, abandoning their usual morning routine in favor of other pursuits. He grabbed the first pants and hoodie he found, pulling them out and heading to the bathroom without even a glance at the garments in his hand.

Several minutes later he was forced to admit that the hot water felt good. It revived him in a way the restless sleep at Carlos’s bedside hadn’t, and it allowed him to peel back the layers of everything to find some of the positives. Namely that Carlos had survived surgery, that while he wasn’t out of the woods there had been no changes for the worst (or for the better, but a hot shower was a place for optimism.)

He stepped out feeling renewed. As he reached for his towel he reminded himself that it hadn’t even been 36 hours. In the grand scheme of things, that was practically nothing. For injuries like those, it was perfectly normal. There was no reason to expect the worst, not yet.

He pulled on the clothes he had grabbed, soft joggers and one of Carlos’s APD hoodies that he had claimed as his own months ago and tried to keep focusing on the positives, but his optimism faded along with the lingering warmth of the shower. Maybe the worst hadn’t happened and he was certainly grateful for that, but where they were was a world away from “good.”

He made his way down the stairs, turning the corner to find Judd and Paul in quiet conversation in the kitchen. They looked up when he appeared, Judd answering the question on his lips before he could even ask it: “No, no updates from the other two. Seems like all’s quiet there.”

TK nodded gratefully and slid into the seat across from them. Judd slid a bowl of something that TK knew objectively should smell amazing in front of him, but all he could do was stare at it.

“Thank you, but…”

“No,” Judd cut him off firmly, “you need to eat. Unless you want to be the one to tell my wife that you wouldn’t eat the food she sent over for you?”

TK sighed and picked up the fork pointedly taking a bite, and Judd huffed out a laugh, “Smart choice.”

The other two returned to their own bowls and they ate in companionable silence. TK appreciated their understanding. He was beyond grateful to his friends for everything, but even the thought of any conversation right in this moment felt like torture. The only thoughts he could manage right now were of Carlos, and the checklist of tasks required by his team before he would be allowed to return.

He finished his food in silence, getting up and crossing to the sink to rinse it out and place it in the dishwasher. He had just reached the sink when a hand stopped him, taking the bowl from his grasp.

“I’ve got this,” Judd told him, “you need sleep.”

“4 hours,” Paul reminded him from the counter, “in a bed.”

“If there are any updates…”

“We’ll let you know,” Paul assured him.

TK swallowed and nodded, turning and heading back upstairs with a soft thanks. He entered their bedroom again, this time unable to ignore the queen-sized elephant in the room. He lowered himself onto his side of the bed, muscle memory guiding him to lay on his left side, giving him a full view of Carlos’s empty pillow.

The sight of him hit him harder than anything else and suddenly he felt as if walls were closing in around him. All the feelings he had been pushing back, holding at bay so he didn’t fall apart at the wrong moment breached his tenuous barriers. The catalyst grew harder to see as his vision was clouded with tears. He rolled over, turning his back to the reminder as his body shook with sobs too long repressed. He let 36 hours of pain and fear and panic out as he lay in their bed, hoping desperately that the aching emptiness beside him did not become his new reality.

Eventually, he drifted off into a fitful sleep; head resting on his tear-soaked pillow and clinging to the desperate hope that when he woke up, things would look better.

————-

Things didn’t look much better when he woke up, but his head did feel a little clearer.

He woke with a jolt at the sensation of someone lightly shaking him. He sat up quickly to find Paul standing next to him, hands raised in a placating manner, “Easy man, it’s just me.”

TK could feel fear creeping through his mind. If Paul was waking him up then…

“What happened?” he choked out. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He should have fought them more, he should have insisted on staying, no matter what.

“Nothing,” Paul assured him, voice even and soothing, “everything’s fine. It’s just been a bit over 4 hours and while personally, I would love to let you sleep longer I figured it was only fair to wake you up and let you decide. There are no new updates and no one is going to judge you for taking the time to get a little more sleep.”

TK took a shuddering breath, willing his heart rate to go back to normal. He shook his head and pulled himself out of the bed, “No, I should be getting back. Thank you though,” he added to Paul, “for waking me up, for everything, really.”

“Of course man. We meant what we said: we’re here for you. I can’t imagine how hard this is, especially given everything, but you’re not alone in this. Don’t forget that. We all care about Carlos too, and we care about you.”

TK looked down, not sure quite how to respond to that. Thankfully, Paul knew him well. His friend put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. TK looked up and gave him a smile that Paul returned, “Take some time to get ready, Judd and I will be ready to leave when you are.”

He nodded again and watched as Paul stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He then took a breath to steady himself before he surveyed the room, actually thinking about what he might need this time around. He grabbed his phone charger and shoved it into his pocket but couldn’t think of anything else he might need. All he could think about was getting back to the hospital as soon as possible. He met the other two downstairs and at his nod they head out without a word, TK only pausing on the threshold for a moment as he glanced back at the empty condo. Soon he would be coming back here, with Carlos. He was sure of it; no other option was acceptable.

He shut the door behind him, turning his key in the lock until he heard the telltale click, and climbed into Judd’s truck for a silent ride to the hospital. When they arrived, he went to climb out but was stopped by Judd’s voice as the older man turned to look at him from the driver’s seat.

“I know you’re worried about him brother,” he said softly. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like and what a mess I would be if it were Grace, but you still need to take care of yourself, remember that.”

TK swallowed down the emotions that rose up as he met Judd’s eyes.There was so much understanding in them and he knew that the other man knew what he was going through more than most. He gave him a nod, and a promise: “I’ll try.”

Judd nodded in satisfaction and TK climbed the rest of the way out of the backseat, giving his two friends a wave before he stepped out and headed back inside. He immediately headed to the nurses’ station and was about to ask for Becky when a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“TJ? What are you doing back here.”

TK froze at the sound of Mrs. Reyes’s voice. “Hi, Mrs. Reyes,” he began, “I was just checking in to see how Carlos was doing.”

The older woman’s expression softened and she reached out a hand to lay on his arm, “You are such a good person, my son is so lucky to have you as a friend.”

TK swallowed down the bile at the word, at the reminder of why he couldn’t be in there with Carlos. “How is he?” he managed to ask in a normal tone, “Has there been any change?”

Mrs. Reyes shook her head sadly, “No, but the doctors say that is to be expected right now. They say that if things remain as they are they will likely start weaning him off the sedation soon, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“It is, he assured her, because despite everything she looked worried and he didn’t want her to suffer. “It’s a very good sign. Normal means that nothing is wrong, that things are healing. Paramedic,” he reminded her with a shrug when she shot him a curious glance, “I’m no doctor but I do know a decent amount about traumatic injuries.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his arm, “And I am so glad my Carlitos had someone like you working on him. I know it couldn’t have been easy to see someone you care about hurt like that but you helped to give him a fighting chance. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“No thanks needed,” he told her softly, “it’s my job.”

“Still,” she insisted, pulling him into a hug. “I am so glad you are my son’s friend. He deserves wonderful people like you in his life.”

TK stiffened in the hug, her words hitting wounds she didn’t even know existed. He cleared his throat as he gently pulled away. “Thank you for the update,” he told her, “I appreciate it.”

She nodded, “Would you like to come sit with him for a bit? We don’t mind, there is plenty of room.”

The thought of being so close to Carlos but not being able to hold him, of having to stay distant so as not to blow their secret in front of his parents was too much. He was certain he wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Thank you,” he told her, “but I should get going. I don’t want to intrude and I just wanted to see how he was doing.”

“Of course,” she told him warmly, “but if you change your mind, feel free to stop by.”

He nodded and with one last hug she let him go and he stepped away, heading towards the doors. He didn’t know where he was going, there was nowhere else for him to go. He needed to be here, but he couldn’t be in there with them. He couldn’t be so close without revealing their relationship and he refused to do that to Carlos.

He stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight, trying to decide what to do next. Trying to tamp down on the tears threatening to rise. It was too much. He had thought he was strong enough to handle this but he wasn’t. He couldn’t do this.

“TK?”

His name, said like a question from a familiar voice, caused him to turn to see Marjan heading towards him, a tray of coffees in her hand and a frown on her face.

“Hey Marj,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. Judging by the look on her face, he failed.

“What happened? Paul said you just got back. Is there any news? Mateo and I have been keeping an eye out but we didn’t see…”

“No,” he assured her, “no, you didn’t miss anything. Things are still fine. I just…” he trailed off, took a breath and started again. “I just ran into Carlos’s mother. She was very pleasant; offered to let me sit in the room with them. Told me what a good friend I was to her son.”

Marjan’s face dropped, “TK,” she said softly, but any response he could have given was swallowed by the tears he couldn’t stop. He thought he had gotten them all out a few hours ago as he lay in their bed, but clearly he was wrong. There were still plenty more. He felt arms wrap around him as Marjan pulled him into a hug, simply holding him as he cried.

--------------

TK was thumbing through the book Paul left him when Becky approached him. His heart was immediately in his throat and he was about to ask her what was wrong when he noticed that she was grinning.

“He’s awake,” she informed him, “has been for a little bit now. The doctors are running some tests right now so his parents have stepped out, but they should be done shortly, if you want to go see him.”

“Yes,” TK said immediately, “of course. Thank you.”

Becky gave him a warm smile, “It’s the least I could do. I do love a happy ending, after all. Give it about 5 minutes and then the doctors should be done.”

TK nodded, hardly daring to believe that this was real. Carlos was awake. He was okay. “Thank you,” he called out to Becky again as she walked away, “really.”

She gave him another smile before she disappeared around the corner and he was left to wait. He pulled out his phone to send a quick update in the group chat: Carlos was awake and he’d give them more details when he had them. There was a flurry of enthusiastic responses and well wishes before TK realized the 5 minutes were almost up and pulled himself out of his seat, heading towards Carlos.

He crossed to the door almost hesitantly, not quite able to shake the fear that maybe Becky had been wrong, that maybe he was somehow imagining this whole thing. But when he stepped inside and was met with a warm, exhausted gaze from familiar brown eyes, he almost staggered in relief.

“Carlos,” TK breathed and the weak, tired smile he received in return was without a doubt the best sight he had seen in days.

“What are you doing way over there?” Carlos asked him and TK was across the room in an instant, skidding to a halt at Carlos’s beside and placing a tender kiss to the top of his head. He blinked away the tears threatening to fall as he studied Carlos. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he needed to say. He just wasn’t sure where to start.

“Hi,” he settled on, and winced. As bedside greetings after a traumatic injury went, it wasn’t a good one.

Thankfully, Carlos chuckled, “Hi to you too. How are you doing?”

“Me?” TK asked incredulously, “Carlos, I’m not the one who nearly died.”

“No,” Carlos agreed, voice growing more serious as he studied him, “but my mom spent some time going on about how my friend ‘TJ’ saved my life. If that had been me and it had been you, I don’t think I would be okay.”

TK shook his head, “Can’t you just worry about yourself for once like a normal person,” he gripped, but there was no heat in his words. Carlos raised an eyebrow at him before he sighed. “It’s been rough,” he admitted, “it wasn’t easy and definitely not an experience I am ever looking to relive, but if it meant saving you I would do it a thousand more times.” He held Carlos’s gaze for several long moments in the wake of his words, making sure that his boyfriend understood just how much he meant it. Any amount of pain or suffering on his own part was acceptable long as Carlos was alive and well at the end of it all.

“But you’re awake now and you’re going to be okay,” he concluded after some time, “nothing else matters.”

“From what I’ve heard, there might be one more thing that matters.” At TK’s questioning look he explained, “My parents. They referred to you as my friend. Did you…?”

He trailed off but TK shook his head vigorously, “No,” he said firmly, “of course not. I promised you you could tell them on your own terms, that I was fine with being the friend as long as it took. I meant that.”

“Ty,” Carlos said softly, squeezing their linked hands and giving him a sad look, “babe. You could have said something. I wouldn’t have been mad. Thinking about you going through this by yourself is worse than any possibility of my parents’ reaction.”

“I wasn’t by myself,” he reminded Carlos, “I had my team. Our friends. I was never alone in this.”

“Remind me to thank them.”

“Oh don’t worry,” TK quipped lightly, leaning into this new topic in an effort to leave talk of his parents and the endless waiting behind, “I am sure they will be here the moment you are allowed more visitors.”

Carlos laughed lightly until he broke off with a grimace of pain. TK leaned forward anxiously, “Are you okay? Does it hurt too badly? Should I get a nurse? Do you--”

“Ty,” Carlos said firmly, “it’s okay. I’m okay. I just jostled things a bit, stop worrying.”

“I don’t think you are ever going to make that possible, Carlos Reyes.”

“Look who’s talking.”

TK opened his mouth to fire a response back but any retort he may have made was interrupted by the arrival of Andrea and Gabriel Reyes in the doorway. TK froze and went to pull his hand out of Carlos’s grasp, but Carlos held tight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, out of here?” TK answered, though it came out more like a question, “To give you some time with your parents?”

Carlos shook his head, “You’re not going anywhere. You belong here.” He turned to his parents, who were watching with curious gazes from the doorway, “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”

TK leaned in closer, voice low in Carlos’s ear, “Maybe waking up from a medically induced coma is not the time for major life decisions, babe. You don’t have to do this now.”

Carlos turned his head to meet TK’s dubious expression with his own, “If not now, when? You said it yourself: nothing ever stays the same.”

“Are you sure?”

Carlos smiled at him and squeezed their still intertwined hands, “Yeah, I am.”

He turned his gaze back to his parents, who were watching the proceedings curiously, “I know you’ve already met TK,” he told them, “and I told you he was a friend from work. But I lied to you, he is so much more than that. I’d like you to formally meet my boyfriend, TK Strand.”

TK anxiously watched their reactions only to see that while there were many emotions playing out on the Reyes’ faces, surprise was not amongst them.

“You knew,” he blurts out, unable to help himself.

Gabriel Reyes shrugged, “We were pretty sure after we met y’all at the market, but when you didn’t say anything when we got here we weren’t so sure and we didn’t want to press,” he began. “But seeing how worried you were, and how often you were here, I figured there was something we didn’t know. Plus, you’re wearing his shirt.”

TK looked down at the old APD sweatshirt he barely remembered grabbing on his trip home sheepishly and he could feel Carlos laughing light beside him.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Andrea asked him, eyes wide with sympathy, “All that time you spent waiting by yourself…”

“I made Carlos a promise,” he said simply, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand even as he spoke to his parents. “I promised him he could tell you on his own terms in his own time, and I would never break a promise I made to him for anything.”

The next thing he knew Andrea’s arms were around him again, squeezing him in a bone crushing hug. He nearly staggered back from the force of it, shooting a bewildered look over her shoulder to Carlos, who is smiling fondly at them.

“I was hoping we were right,” she told him softly, “all that time you were, how deeply you cared for him. I am so glad we were, and so happy that my son has someone to love him as much as you do.”

She pulled away to give him a teary smile that he returned. Gabriel stepped forward to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulder and lean forward to offer TK an outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to properly meet you, TK,” he said warmly. TK smiled at him before taking the offered hand.

“Likewise, sir.”

They ended the handshake and TK looked back to Carlos to see him beaming at him. He shifted over in his bed to make room for TK to perch on the edge beside him. TK did, happily, readjusting the grip of their joined hands so they could rest comfortably in Carlos’s lap.

“I always knew they would like you,” Carlos told him with a grin, raising an eyebrow at his parents, “but I didn’t know what detectives they were.”

“I am a Texas Ranger son,” Gabriel deadpanned, “in case you have forgotten.”

Carlos rolled his eyes at his father, earning him a lackluster admonishment from his mother and TK let the warmth of this moment settle around him. He could tell Carlos’s parents still had questions, he knew there would be some hard conversations to be had in the coming days. But for now they were all here together, and Carlos was okay. Their secret was out and TK didn’t have to hide the love he felt for this man for anyone ever again. He leaned over to press a soft kiss to the top of Carlos’s head, savoring the ability to do so and the way Carlos leaned into him in turn.

Things weren’t perfect but at this moment they were pretty close, and that was more than enough.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #userbones #tuserpaige #laeipoo #maizsnex #buckybarnesalways #immortalstrand #reyeslonestartag #hierophvnts

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

Priyotomo (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Last Day at Amazon and Ethan's first day back at Boston from Ethan and Pooja's POV

Priyotom(o/a): (Bengali) Dearest, Most Beloved

A/N: Time for another hopeless attempt at poetry!! Anyway, this is my take on Dr Ethan Ramsey running to the Amazons. I really hope that this is not absolute crap and makes so sense🧡

Thank you so much to Simone for Pre-reading! Love you Gurl🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🤎

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 1.8K

Rating: General

Category: Angst

Warnings: (Very Brief) Mentions of blood, fainting and drinking

Title Inspo: Priyotomo Hai - Rabindra Sangeet (Rabindranath Tagore's composition)

OTHER WORKS

Pooja

16 years.

The date was displayed with vivid eloquence by the woody beige cubes that adorned the desk, posing a match with the minimalism of the room.

It was a preposterous fact.

Glassy ambers switched perspective in a progressive motion, and they interpreted the solitary shine of the table lamp on the transparent surface.

Four glowing smiles, two tiny toddlers sat on their parents' lap.

It does not feel surreal. Neither a tale of a bygone era.

It was not her past. It was her present, her life's gears were turned by this very photograph.

Her bracelet adorned hand held it close to her heart, which beat in a meteoric rhythm.

The cacophonous tunes from the fiesta painfully pierced through her reverie, cajoling her to close the mahogany doors that lead to her cocoon.

The flamboyant kantha stitched lehenga proved to be burdensome to carry.

With ponderous steps, Pooja settled down on the couch, pulling her feet to herself.

She wanted to be ten again. Not eleven.

Terminate the time when she could be that blithe girl, rolling dices with her mother.

But there was a specific reason why the reminisces came back stronger than any usual day.

Somewhere in the remote land, in a cholera-stricken district, a summery blue-eyed man spent his days in seclusion.

And occupied the chambers of her cerebral hemispheres.

What was the pain of being left alone with only emotions as a companion without as much as a message?

She wiped her cheek, only to discover the black of her eyeliner now adorning her fingers.

She had been crying.

When? She could not feel the tears that left smokey meanders on the map of her face.

The heartbreak and the circumstances had numbed her feelings. All she wanted was an embrace.

Why did his peach lips mark her as his if this was the end in sight?

She refused to accept it. The end.

She placed her foot down, not feeling the pierce of a pin fallen down against her skin.

Drops of scarlet marked her track as she retouched the smear of her face.

Time to go and socialize.

Ethan

Of everything to look at in the shiny cellular, his eyes now traced the pristine form of the lady who now inhabited every one of his senses.

The comely picture made her look ravishing and the adamant neurons started pulling out manila folders with her memories kept in them.

No. He cannot.

The fiery golden liquid disappeared faster than it had been poured.

He had found himself on the crossroad of whether to type out the words that played in a loop in his mind or not.

I miss you!

He always chose the latter.

He had already given her a false hope.

Of a future of them.

He did not want to do it again.

Only now he realizes that it was a hope he had given himself as well when he first took that sacred form of hers into his arms.

And that he ran away. Like a coward.

Ethan Ramsey the coward.

Who could not fight for them.

Who could not fight for her.

Who could not fight for Lo-

No.

He did not let the word complete. The very thought was dangerous.

Throwing the classy cylinder he had been holding with a deathly grip, he poured the last bit of that glass bottle in him.

And walked over hurriedly, the tiny glass pieces stabbing him, to again begin the reset.

One which would never complete.

Next Day

Pooja

The ethereal moon spread out the beams of serenity all over the ceremonious night.

It was a lively affair. Merrymaking and cultural programs went on, as she stood amidst the cheery atmosphere with a sombre expression.

In front of Pooja, was the masterfully sculpted idol of the Mother Goddess, standing majestically as the centrepiece of the celebration. She was the epitome of power, the Mahisasura Mardini.

The recollections of an unforgettable past come as paper-planes drifting in a gentle air, carrying the playfulness, a child's happy smiles. A time when her mother would take Pooja to the mythological lands through her words, and they would get lost like flying butterflies in fairytale land.

The tunes of Bengali music float in the gentle air, and she hums along. The first song her mom had taught her, also for a Durga Puja function. Her mom was deeply rooted in all of them, the culture of Bengal kept alive by her. She was the reason why Pooja could become a part of a community she takes pride in.

Even now, so many years later, things don't change. They hold on to these roots like they are holding onto their life, not letting them disappear.

It feels like holding onto her, keeping her alive.

Recreating a small piece of her favourite Kolkata in Bhopal.

But the aura of calm hid like the clouds covering the sun's shine. The piercing pain of heartbreak came back, the wound untreated.

The soft sand of her life's hourglass prickles, solitary grains floating to join their siblings. The wish of them defying gravity and going back to bring the 10th year of her life had never been so strong as it was now.

The heavy jewellery tugged at her ears, letting her know their presence and the styled hair gave her a throbbing headache.

Her tiredness and exhaustion, now fuelling back in her veins refusing to let her bring back that sense of peace she experienced moments ago.

Around her people wore phoney smiles. All they cared about was unimportant Tommy rot. Not a single one of them stepped back from criticizing the others behind their backs.

It was a saga of inflated egos, of constant competition, to make the next person look inferior.

She was tired.

Of people running away, Of abandonment, Of hopes getting dashed.

Why did his thoughts keep coming back? After all, he did make it clear, didn't he?

But did he really succeed? Did his efforts head? Did his heart finally give in to his relentless demand?

Did he really forget her?

All the messages that lay not replied, unheard voicemails, she was sure he had.

But that colour of his he left on her?

The piece of his heart that was protected by her?

Would he be able to forget them?

An earthen lamp flickered in front of her, bud she did no rush to save it.

If it goes out, then let it.

Just like the never-ending load shedding of her life.

But it didn't.

It was a wish, a hope that kept it alive.

The sweet nothings he had whispered to her, the gentle kisses he lined on her forehead.

They had promised her forever.

His being enveloped her, she doubted if it would ever break.

The hope of him & her flickers every now and then, just like the earthen lamp.

But did it go off?

It couldn't.

Because there was no wind strong enough to extinguish it.

The possibility of him and her.

The realization and a blackness hit her at the same time.

And as she fell, her mind held on to only it.

The possibility of him and her.

Ethan

If the Great Thinkers from BCs before were asked if going to a beer garden after spending 2 months in another continent and a 13hr long flight was a sensible thing to do, they would have watched the questioner in bewilderment.

And he agreed. He was not being sensible, not even 1%.

The urge to see her, to gaze at her moonly face, to know that she okay.

It had never been so strong. He felt his mind would give up on him if he could not locate her today.

Not that he had stopped the forgetting process, absolutely not.

It was just a solace, a bandage to the scars he had given himself.

That she would be okay even if he was not there with her.

Focus fixed on keeping his gaze as unhurried as possible, he looked around, putting the well-trained ears and eyes to work.

And then he saw them.

All her friends clustered at a table, merrily clinking beer bottles and sharing happy glances. His eyes pierced into the scene, but he could not locate her.

A step or two brought him close, the desperateness making his heart go crazy.

But the conclusion shattered every bit of sense and calm, dissipated the hope of getting to see here.

She was not here.

His face fell like someone who had lost the thing they hold the closest to their heart.

She, really, was not here.

He really wanted to ask the residents sitting at the table in question, to get some, any, news on her.

But his rational mind still existed, and it was the only thing that stopped him from going haywire.

She was not here.

He took out the notorious cuboid chiming in his pocket, full of satirical typed phrases his cerebrum refused to decrypt.

But it was adamant to get his attention.

A scoff escaped like a habit.

As if anyone could be powerful enough to take his attention away from her.

He was caught in a maze of her memories, his time in the continent thousands of kilometres away and the ghoul of feelings chasing him deeper into it, making him yearn for her solace, the moistness of a forlorn kiss on his forehead, the gentle swipe of a thumb to take his tears away.

His way was lost in there, every turn making him end up more challenged. But even if he did not want to, he had to find the way out.

His soul was like a thorn who could only hurt the tender flower that she was.

What he did not realize was that she was a rose, her being was amidst thorns.

She had the power to beautify them.

The click of the turn-on sound, brought him back to the piece of work his fingers were creating on the light emanating screen.

And in seconds that passed too fast, he saw his heart's treasure,

She was here.

Not in footsteps & whispers.

She was here.

Not in touches and kisses.

She was here.

Not in muscle and bone.

But in labyrinths of his heart, in filmstrips of his memory, in sensations that made him go wild,

She was here.

(With him forever, she was not the one to leave his side)

PS: I HC the end of 1st year of their residency being in Sept-Oct, which is the time of Durga Puja in India. And since Poo is half Bengali, and she never misses any tradition involving her mom's side of the fam, so she would not have been at Boston then. (Or take it as an excuse to increase angst potential) Anyway, Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you I feel like my brain has short-circuited and I forgot someone):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010

Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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otp-armada · 4 years

Text

Right before I woke up this morning, for a moment, my mind dreamt of a scene of Clarke on the Ring. She makes it to the rocket on time. It's her and Bellamy standing at the observation window, watching Earth burn. It's the two of them looking to the future, their people's and their own, together. 4x13 ends with a flash-forward of six years, but one of Spacekru as a family. As we see the eight of them laughing together at a dinner table, the camera pans to a weighted, happy glance shared between Clarke and Bellamy, him lifting their joined hands to his lips, two matching, thin rings of gold metal on their fingers. And that's how the audience comes to know they have coupled up. Boom. Out.

My ears are ringing from the collective shrieking we would have done.

My waking hours are here, and I'd like to play this scenario out to my specifications.

The first half of 5x01 is Spacekru flashbacks, showing us how they bonded to become a family and how Bellarke got together.

In the long, quiet comfort of the Ring, our heroes give voice to their past traumas and heal old grievances.

Clarke tells Bellamy about her father, Bellamy shares stories about his mother. She tells him about her father's kindness and gentle nature, his limitless heart. Jake's teases about Clarke drawing on every plain surface she could find, a habit that began with her childhood. Passionate as she was for sketching, she was in the midst of early medical training. Her exposure to the Council and the Chancellor is what gave Clarke her political acumen. Clarke recounts the games they used to watch with the Jahas. Before long, she's explaining the rules of soccer to a confused but amused Bellamy. Bellamy tells her what little he remembers about his parents before his father died. Aurora's smile. Her sacrifices for her children. Her tenacity. Her love of mythic stories she passed onto him. The overwhelming sense of responsibility she instilled in him from too early an age. Bellamy talks about the challenges of a life spent hiding a little girl under the floorboards from the Ark. Bellamy shares the rewards of being the only pair of siblings to have existed in nearly a hundred years. Unbidden by the role of big brother in Clarke's company, he gives voice to the constraints placed on his life. The hardships of living in Factory Station, while Clarke shrinks in guilt over her bountiful upbringing in Alpha. They both recall the pain of watching their parents get floated. There, in front of their eyes one second, gone forever in the blink of an eye. Clarke discloses that, while privileged, she was a lonely child. Were it not for Wells, she would have had no friends. She talks about him, what Bellamy never got to know about Wells Jaha.

The atmosphere shifts, and their conversations progress to contemporary times.

They discuss their respective tendencies to want to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. It takes time, but Clarke finally divulges why she felt compelled to leave Camp Jaha. How bereft she felt. Her nightmares and loneliness in self-imposed exile. Wandering around the freezing cold of the woods. Bellamy can't rein in the pain as he reminds Clarke that she didn't bear it all on her own. She couldn't have, not when he was the one left behind to pick up the pieces Mount Weather shredded. He was the one seeing their faces every day. She asked him to come back with her, to their people, once before, and he did. But when he asked her to do the same, she left. They both know it's not apologies he's looking for. It's a promise, a reigniting of an old promise made between two lost souls needing the other when the world threatened to drown them. They readily give in.

Their conversation takes an unexpected turn when Clarke explains why she gave in to Bellamy's plan to go undercover in Mt. Weather. For her to be strong enough to save her people, she couldn't let love hold her back, make her weak. From the second Bellamy left her sight, she regretted it. They both recognize it as the confession she didn't intend to say. Shock settles in. With newfound confidence, it triggers an admission of Bellamy's own feelings. Cue canon Bellarke.

Once the air between them is clear, it was only fair that the effects of Mt. Weather be a topic Clarke and Bellamy discuss with the third member of the room that fateful day. It leads them to the complicated subject of Jasper, the three of them breaking down in tears over their fallen friend.

Six years of peacetime spent in Clarke's company shapes perspective on the girl herself. She's not Clarke Griffin, the fierce and stoic Skaikru leader, equipped with all the answers. She's not Wanheda, the great legend. She's just a girl, with vulnerabilities, insecurities, fears, and demons, just the same as any of them. She becomes a person to them. Real flesh and blood. A human being who does indeed break. And no one is more startled by this revelation than Raven. It's another contentious relationship of Clarke's requiring time to mend. Although sharing feelings doesn't come easily to Raven, the two eventually crack their sibling-like rivalry where Abby and Finn are concerned.

It's the presence of a fellow cockroach well-versed in the glamourous lifestyle of isolation that gets Murphy out of his self-destructive streak. In their own ways, they have both been the outsiders. They make an uncanny pair of confidantes, so says the rest of the kru. But somehow, it works. Trust doesn't come easy for Murphy, and he and Clarke have their fair share of issues. Close quarters force the two of them and Emori to work it out. For all that Clarke excels at contrition, deserved and undeserved, she's also never been one to beat around the bush, no matter Murphy's preference to lash out in his signature style of sharp sarcasm at moments of his choosing. As it is for Bellamy, Clarke's belief in Murphy as a good man is an overwhelming force, one he is not sure he's worthy of, but privately welcomed nevertheless. In time, there arrives a sense of respect and loyalty between them no one foresaw.

Clarke's penchant for extending her hand to the outsiders doesn't end with Murphy and Emori. Clarke was the first to bring Echo on board and, she is the first to treat their errant Azgeda former spy as family. Post-season 4 to the series' end, Echo's character development is at the forefront of her story arc, never filtered through a subpar pairing needed to fuel an insipid love triangle where her leg of it is marked for eventual demolition.

Since I am bound by limitless imagination, let us pretend this was a 2-hour season premiere.

The flashbacks take us through the six years to the present. Spacekru's happiness is juxtaposed, as we transition to below the ground, by the hellscape Wonkru is trapped in. The second half of 5x01 is Wonkru flashbacks, a la 5x02.

5x02 takes us back to Eligius IV, to the passing of Order 11 (is that what it was called?). A young pilot named Shaw chooses to defy his captain's orders, releasing their prisoners. They proceed to take over the ship, killing Shaw's crewmates and captain, Charmaine Diyoza assuming command. She corrals Paxton McCreary and his men to her side. With their mutiny a success, Diyoza tells Shaw to plot a course for Earth. All the while, we see Shaw wrestling with the bloody aftermath of his decisions. They reach Earth's orbit, ready to go home, unknowingly under the watch of 8 survivors in space.

The Eligius prisoners touch ground on the last arable patch of land on Earth and quickly find themselves ensnared in a series of traps by an unknown number of assailants. Their assailant turns out to be a solitary preteen. They capture her, interrogate her. She speaks a language they've never heard. I'm making it a point to emphasize those infernal shock collars do not exist in my little world.

5x03 plays out similarly onboard the Eligius mothership. Our kru arrives, not to borrow a cup of sugar, but to steal the hydrazine for their journey home. Clarke, Bellamy, and kru debates the morality of killing 300 strangers in their sleep before deciding to use them as leverage. Raven and Murphy stay behind. Six Spacekru members fall to Earth and are captured by Eligius. They are taken to Diyoza, where they find a little girl dressed in Grounder garb. Bellamy and Clarke use their trump card to free themselves, Madi, and use their resources to locate Wonkru, with an additional promise to share the land and their knowledge of life on Earth.

5x04 plays out the same, more or less, without the awkward tension of a Bellarke trying to reacclimate themselves to each other's presence again. Diyoza brings Madi, Bellamy, and Clarke to Polis, where Bellarke negotiates for Wonkru's release. They meet Blodreina and her cult of warriors. Fandom squeals seeing Octavia greet her sister-in-law. Wonkru (and Blodreina) comes to realize that they have found a surviving Nightblood. Diyoza betrays the accord, taking Abby and Kane to Shallow Valley and leaving Bellarke and Madi at odds with Octavia.

5x05 sees Bellarke continuing to act in concert as a team, eager to reunite with their lost people while keeping a protective eye on Madi. Tensions brew between them and Blodreina. Marper and Echo return and they all turn back to Polis.

Blodreina refuses to grant pardon to Echo. Spacekru fights on her behalf, while Echo is willfully recruited for Octavia's mission. Madi meets Gaia under Clarke's watchful eye. When Madi is introduced to the Flame, Clarke tries to persuade her not to be swayed by the Flamekeeper's influence. Because this is my fantasy and I can do what I wish, it turns out that Clarke and Bellamy are expecting their first child. Clarke, believing the Flame to be a curse for its bearer, wants to spare Madi a bloody fate. She wants to abolish this aspect of Grounder culture, fearing the chances her child may become the next natural-born Nightblood. She dreads the possibility of her child as the next participant in the Conclave or the next Commander.

Another sidenote I am interjecting. Here, toxic motherhood isn't a defining characteristic of Clarke's, to aid in her isolation and subsequent, continual emotional decline. In my world, she gets to be a protective mother, a loving wife, a compassionate friend, and a caring daughter, all rolled in one little blonde package. She gives love freely, as she does in canon, but receives it in kind. She doesn't sink to rock bottom, nor must she, to be the heroine she is. She draws on the good and the bad experiences she's had to teach others. She imparts her lessons to those in need. Love is a commodity her life isn’t devoid of.

Clarke and Bellamy argue over what to do about Blodreina. Neither wants her to be harmed, but Bellamy maintains that she is, above all, his sister. He needs to believe Octavia is still within reach. He cannot abandon her now that they're together again. Clarke petitions Bellamy to take their family to Shallow Valley before it's too late. They compromise, agreeing to remove Octavia from the board long enough for Indra to take Diyoza's proffered deal. Their plans fail, as per 5x08, and Octavia arrests Clarke, an execution set for after the baby’s birth. We retain the glorious Blake scene of 5x08. It breaks Bellamy's heart to hurt Octavia, but she forced his hand. He has to protect his wife and their baby.

Tensions come to a head between husband and wife, courtesy of 5x09. Bellamy, having exhausted all other options, decides Madi must ascend to Commander to accomplish their goals. It is the only way to protect them all and save the valley. I am once again interrupting my spiel to remark that Clarke knows, unequivocally, she is included on the shortlist of family Bellamy is most ardently trying to protect. Forget "included," she's at the top. Clarke, ever the protective mother, disagrees, citing endangerment to Madi from Octavia and her patriots. Clarke argues that, of Diyoza and Octavia, Diyoza is the lesser evil to their family. As long as they remain within Diyoza's rules, they have nothing to fear from her. Bellamy, seeing Clarke's deep-rooted fear, agrees.

They are delayed by Marper, who wish to stay within the bunker, living off the revitalized algae farm. Bellamy and Clarke don't want to leave them behind until Monty points out that they, for once, deserve the chance to choose their fate, as all of the people of Earth. Octavia recuperates in time to arrest Bellamy, sending him to the fighting pit. Clarke fights to defend him but is detained. Clarke wants to fight alongside him, but they both know she has to live to raise their baby. They are permitted a final goodbye, and they have an emotional last exchange, a.k.a. Kabby parallel. Like Kane before him, Indra is forced to separate another family.

Octavia assures Bellamy that the baby will be under her protection. By now, Bellamy has reached the end of his rope with his baby sister. He loves her, but he can't distinguish her from the monster she's become, and it's about to cost him a life with his family. Disgusted, Bellamy scoffs at her overtures. He reminds her that his child deserves to have its parents. Clarke's earlier words come back as he tells her that she is his family's worst enemy. It wasn't enough for Aurora to leave him responsible for raising his sister at six years old. For the first time, his life is right, and she's the one who's about to take it away. He reminds her what it was like to lose her mother at 17, to never know her father. She knows how devastating it feels. Yet, left up to her, his child would be an orphan. He finishes with a devastating blow: it'll be those he holds as his family who will take care of his wife and child.

Clarke breaks free of her restraints, making plans to cause disruption to the bunker and getting Bellamy out in the ensuing chaos. She is stopped by Monty, who wants to use the opportunity to give Wonkru a better choice. Clarke tells him she isn't gambling Bellamy's life. Monty breaks again, pointing out that the last time he helped her and Bellamy, they split blood, and their plans still failed. Clarke reluctantly relents out of guilt, knowing how Mount Weather continues to haunt Monty. She does, after all, trust him with her life.

Bellamy fights Indra in the pits until the proceedings are interrupted by an intervening Monty, brandishing a pure, white flower in a sea of blood and darkness. Just as he begins to sway Wonkru to his non-volatile solution to the impending war, Blodreina forces compliance by burning the algae farm.

As Wonkru mobilizes for war, the fractured Spacekru and Madi take the rover to the valley to find their friends. They destroy the worms in transit.

They save an incapacitated Abby, who later recounts the Dark Year. Bellamy can't stop the horror he feels at the ordeal his sister has lived through. He feels a pang of guilt he knows is irrational while wrestling with the knowledge that she is still responsible for her choices now.

They reunite with the rest of Spacekru and are surprised to learn McCreary has taken control of the camp. With Diyoza and Kane's assistance, the eye in the sky is reinstalled, giving Eligius the advantage. As much as they want to prevent this war, they cannot leave Wonkru to die in the gorge. The group breaks off. One team is sent to disable the eye in the sky. The other team uses Madi's knowledge of the valley's layout to head off to fight alongside Wonkru in the gorge.

By the time they arrive safely, only Octavia, Indra, and Gaia are left alive. Bellamy convinces Octavia to retreat instead of sacrificing herself. He tells her she has to live with what she's done instead of taking the easy way out. For the most part, I'm picturing the scenes play out as they did in canon. At base camp, Wonkru is in disarray. Too many bodies are left littered from this war, with Blodreina at fault. To stop the in-fighting, Madi attempts to assume control by invoking her natural right to lead as a Nightblood. Some dissent, claiming she is not yet Commander. With support from Gaia, Octavia, and Bellamy (who makes sure this is what she wants), they sway Wonkru to Madi's side. Freshly invigorated, Wonkru prepares for a second assault.

Back on the Eligius ship, Clarke, Raven, and Shaw release an imprisoned Diyoza. They allow themselves to be captured and taken to the ship's central control. While McCreary attempts to force Raven to pilot their ship, she and Clarke regain control. Meanwhile, Bellamy convinces Madi to let the prisoners live.

From here, may I present two alternatives:

Scenario 1: Clarke kills McCreary before he can launch the missile from the mothership. With Spacekru controlling the ship's weaponry and Wonkru overtaking the prisoners, Eligius capitulates. After much deliberation, a new accord is reached, allowing for all survivors to live in peace as a singular society. Spacekru gets their 80 acres. The last of the 10(2) become parents to the next generation. It takes time, but Bellamy and Octavia's relationship heals. Eventually, she earns back her place in his life as his sister. She becomes one of many to welcome Bellarke's little one to the world, ecstatic to be a loving aunt. Generations later, the Earth recovers.

Scenario #2: The missile is launched. Earth's survivors must escape to space to survive. Marper opts out of cryosleep and has a son. It takes Monty ten years to realize Earth may never recover from its last doomsday. He wakes Spacekru+ to determine options. Between him, Raven, and Shaw, the three configure a self-running algorithm to decode the Eligius III mission files. They wire the pods to awaken its occupants every decade to check the algorithm's progress. The McIntyre-Greens go into cryosleep with some gentle persuasion from Bellarke. They won't leave their people behind. Thirty years later, Earth remains dormant. The files reveal the existence of a planet that could support human life, lightyears away, in the binary star system in the Goldilocks zone. They plot a course.

No, it's not as thrilling as the original ending. But if our heroes are going to traipse across the universe, only to return to their home planet, then Marper will not be sacrificed for nada. They will live out their days, a little older, a little wiser, but surrounded by their friends. They will not say farewell to their son at his ripe old age of 26.

There isn't much I would change about season 6, not where its major storylines are concerned. Clarke meets Cillian for his insight on Abby and Kane's deteriorating conditions. I would alter Madi's arc to where she takes the Flame in Sanctum and uses the time while the grounders are in cryosleep to train under Gaia's tutelage. Madi becomes attached to Bellarke, and it leaves her susceptible to Sheidheda's influence when her newfound familial figures find themselves at risk from the Primes. She'd see Sheidheda as a necessary evil to save her people, not unlike Clarke submitting to Lxa's clout. I would have Sheidheda preying on Madi's fears that she'd be alone again as she was during Praimfaya if she doesn't respond with vigor.

Season 7 gets a similar, substantial overhaul I've been thinking about for months but haven't yet written down.

The end.

(When am I going to stop with these sidenotes? After this last point, I promise.) Jason ran too tight a ship to let his post-apocalypse masterpiece become overtaken by frivolous romance. Without this pitfall, what stopped him from coupling Bellarke up before the end? Nothing. He could have a Bellarke that remained symbolic of the show's themes and mythos. A show that thrives on chaos would never run out of conflict to stir the pot. Falling apart and weaving themselves back together has been the model of their relationship since season one. Why couldn't they do this and be a couple? Why couldn't they have the Memori Model? They could have, but Jason chose the path of the slowburn. There's no fault in this. There is a fault in choosing to rescind the previously established story when it comes time for the threads to finally tie together. And I will never forgive him for it.

#bellarke #the 100 #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #clarke x bellamy #bellamy x clarke #my post #sandy's musings #this is awful i know and i'm sorry #I just needed a happy fix-it and this happened #the 100 fix-it #alternate season 5

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chaoticowlpost · 4 years

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Uhhhhh 7? For the one word prompts :00?

This could have gone three ways and I wasn’t sure which one to take JHDBFJSHDF so I hope you like it <3

The prompt is Silent Fury

--------------------------------------------------

Draco was seething.

No, he was furious. With himself, with Harry, with the wizards who cursed him, and with the incompetent Aurors that were supposed to protect his fiance while they were on the field.

He and Harry were seated at the back of a Muggle taxi, the tension in the air so thick that every occupant could feel it. They couldn’t just apparate because the Healer instructed that Harry avoid using too much magic so that he doesn’t further damage his magical core.

What was to be expected when he was out cold for nearly 2 weeks, after all.

The moment the Healer said that they were free to leave, Draco simply gathered both of their belongings and walked briskly to the exit without uttering a single word.

He was sick of it. He was sick of the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the false hope. He was tired of being lied to and giving this man more chances over and over again without thinking of how Draco might feel.

He knew that Harry knew, of course. Normally, after being hospitalized, Draco would fuss over him, but not this time. He refuses to. Even the Muggle driver could feel the tension, turning off the radio the moment Draco slid into his seat after giving them a simple greeting.

His hands were trembling, itching to just grab Harry and shake him violently, asking him why until he finally came up with a good enough excuse that might manage to placate Draco so they don’t go to bed angry with one another.

Instead of taking a nap like he planned, Draco leaned his head against the window and watched the scenery fly past them. Words flashed through his head while arguments that have happened too many times before played out as he tried to decide on what he would say once the inevitable conversation took place.

“We’re here,” the driver informed them. Draco didn’t waste another second and left the vehicle immediately, knowing that Harry would pay since he carried Muggle currency. He didn’t even bother waiting for Harry at the door and instead stormed to their room in hopes of escaping the upcoming argument.

“Draco!” Harry called his name, making him pause just a meter away from the bedroom door where he planned on locking himself in. Reluctantly, he turned around to face his fiance, who was standing on the other end of the hallway.

“What?” he snapped quietly, crossing his arms defensively.

“Aren’t we going to talk about this?” Harry asked him.

“We already have. Numerous times before” Draco said simply, eyes darting downwards. “We’re just going to repeat the same arguments we’ve had until one of us gives in. There’s nothing left to say.”

“Don’t- Don’t be like that,” Harry sighed. “Please. I’m sorry, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Draco huffed. “You’re sorry, but I’m tired, and I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know that it’s hard for you, love-” Harry took a step forward, to which Draco followed by taking a step back.

“No.” Draco snapped, feeling his control slipping away. When he planned this conversation in his head, he wanted to be cool and indifferent so that it wouldn’t be harder than it was going to be, but now he knew that it wasn’t going to happen that way.

“You don’t get it. You promised me that you’d finally start properly distributing tasks when you’re exhausted and start taking care of yourself,” Draco continued. “That’s the reason I finally said yes to your proposal!”

“You knew that my job would still come with risks either way,” Harry finally snapped back. “I can’t just quit because you want me to.”

“Then don’t!” Their voices got progressively louder. “Have fun at your job, but don’t expect me to be there the next time you find yourself waking up on a hospital bed.”

“You don’t mean that,” Harry said desperately, his voice softening, but Draco didn’t follow suit.

“No! You don’t know how hard it is to get a call in the middle of the night after having fallen asleep while waiting for you to get back, coming face to face with a healer instead of you while they tell me that you’re out cold on a hospital bed, just barely alive!” Draco practically screamed.

“But-”

“No, Harry,” Draco said firmly. “No more. Don’t you know what seeing you like that does to me? And then for me to see you just get up after I take the time to take care of you so that you could do it all over again? I can’t- I just can’t keep doing this, okay?”

He didn’t notice that he began crying until Harry closed the distance that was purposely left between them, wrapping his arms around Draco’s trembling shoulders while the blond hit his chest desperately and weakly through the small distance between their chests.

“I hate you,” he sobbed. “Let go of me, I said I was done.”

“Draco,” Harry murmured softly into his hair. “Please, let’s not go to sleep like this.”

“Do you know how painful it is to see you so pale and weak on a hospital bed?” Draco gasped through his ragged breaths. “I fucking love you, and I can’t keep seeing you like that. What if that’s the last time I get to see you, because you were being reckless?”

“It won’t happen,” Harry tried to soothe him. “I’d never leave you like that.”

“You don’t know that,” Draco snapped, finally managing to push Harry away from him before repeating, “You don’t know that, and I don’t know that. All I know is that this is going to happen again. And again, and again, and again because you refuse to take care of yourself because you know fully well that I’d be here to take care of you in the end!”

“I’ll try harder, I swear-”

“No, Harry,” Draco cut him off. “Don’t you see? You’ve made those promises to me before, and it’s always ended the same way. With you in a hospital bed and this argument repeating itself.”

“Then you know that I’m not going to die-”

“We’re not even married yet!” Draco exclaimed, his hysteria worsening when he heard the word ‘die.’ “Do you think I can keep living like this forever? Damn you, and damn my fucking feelings for you.”

Draco extended his arm to shove Harry and create more distance between them, but Harry managed to capture his wrists just in time, using them to pull him closer.

“I love you, Draco,”‘ Harry whispered, the grip around his wrists tightening. “I swear that it won’t be like this forever.”

“You’re already Head Auror!” Draco shouted, trying to pull his wrists free. “What else can you do! I told you that this would be the last time, and I’m done! I said I’m done, now let go of me!”

“Draco,” Harry whispered, pulling them close enough to press a desperate, wet kiss against his lips, still holding his wrists. So many feelings flooded him at once. The comfort and love that always accompanied every kiss they shared, the desperation of their situation, triggering the anger and pain he feels constantly because of his fiance’s job.

Slowly, he felt himself reciprocate, getting lost in the familiar feeling of his lover and remembering every significant moment they shared while his knees threatened to give out from exhaustion.

Until he realized what they were doing.

“Please don’t lock yourself away. We can find a solution for this,” Harry breathed, looking into his eyes.

Finally, Draco managed to wrench his hands free while Harry was distracted from their kiss.

“Then send me an owl when you’ve found a solution, because I’m tired of this,” Draco said, taking a large step back, unable to look Harry in the eyes. “Because I’m tired of what it takes- of what it means -for there to be an us.”

Then he disapparated, the last thing he saw being Harry’s heartbroken expression as he reached out in a futile attempt to either stop Draco or go with him.

And that was it; Draco knew.

Now, it was time to start thinking of a place he could sleep at for a while.

————————————————--

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#hp #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry #angst #i think this is angst at least #drarry fanfiction #drarry fic #request #prompt list

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justfandomwritings · 5 years

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Oh my goshhh!!! Loyalty is frigging amazing!!!! That fic is so beautiful.. I just... there's no words, man. What happens next? How do they plot? Does he kill Odin and Thor? Can you please tag me when you write the spin off (not to be rude but how long will that take? I am just soooo excited) ❤❤

Gather round children! I am not going to write any story of how Loki’s story matches up with the MCU, and while the sequel I’ve plotted will feature bits of this, it will really only hint at what happened to Loki. So, because I think everyone deserves an explanation, here is how Loyalty!Loki progressed through the movies.

Loyalty post-story explanation:

The plot continues up to Thor as you’d imagine.

Brilliant actor that he would be, Loki pretends to be absolutely fine with all slights and fakes that he has gotten over his lost love. Because no one in his family pays attention to him, no one at court notices anything is wrong with Loki or that it’s odd that he got over losing his soulmate so quickly.

Loki spends more and more time in the lower districts of Asgard, doing everything in his power to support the people and keep (Y/n)’s memory alive.

The people loved her, were loyal to her, and still are. Naturally, Loki receives much of this loyalty through his relationship with (Y/n) and more importantly through his insistence on keeping her memory alive.

All the while, Loki is plotting Thor and Odin’s demise. He knows he wants it to be at the hands of the Frost Giants who killed (Y/n), and it’s Narfi who gives him the chance.

Now on the Council for himself, Narfi is ordered to plan Thor’s coronation, and he and Loki plan out how the Frost Giants might ruin his big day.

They use (Y/n)’s old family home for their preparations. Most nobles consider the outer rim of fishers near (Y/n)’s childhood to be insignificant. So as long as Heimdall doesn’t watch Loki enter the house or know he’s going there, no one cares to look at what’s happening in (Y/n)’s old room.

Thor movie

On the day of the coronation, Loki has doubts. He knows this is not what (Y/n) would want him to become, and he questions whether they should follow through.

Then, one last time, Thor slights him before the coronation by talking about Loki’s conquests as though they were his own and by mentioning the attack by the Frost Giants as if it were a success even though (Y/n) died.

(Insert the deleted scene of Thor and Loki together waiting to enter the throne room)

Loki makes up his mind then and there that Thor must lose everything, as he once did.

The Frost Giants come and Thor shows his true colors.

He demands a raid on Jotunheim, and though Loki publicly denies it, he is seething inside.

Thor demanded justice for a stupid ceremony and thought that was worthy of Laufey’s head, but Laufey killing (Y/n) wasn’t even worth a second thought to Thor.

After Jotunheim, even Odin can’t deny what Thor has done, and Loki relishes watching Thor cast away from everything he’s ever known.

In the vaults beneath Asgard, Loki argues with Odin on the steps only for Odin to tell him the reason Frost Giant’s don’t affect him is because he is one.

Loki watches Odin collapse and the guards take him away, leaving Loki to think.

Loki is horrified. This whole time he’s been on a quest of vengeance against the Frost Giants, and he is one of the monsters who killed (Y/n).

He determines that his best plan would be to kill them all, take Thor and Odin’s life himself.

He sends the Destroyer for Thor and is only incensed more when Thor appeals to him for mercy for Midgard. After everything, Thor still doesn’t understand why Loki is in a rage.

The fight happens as it did, and Thor destroys the Bifrost to save whatever is left of Jotunheim.

Odin is holding Thor who is holding the spear with Loki.

Loki: “Vengeance, that’s all I wanted for her, but you wouldn’t even give her dignity.”

Thor looks confused for a moment before he realizes who Loki’s talking about.

Odin just stares on emotionless as always.

Loki: “We’ll see.”

Loki falls.

Between movies

Loki falls to Thanos.

Loki is worried over what Thanos’ plans to do, to destroy half the known universe.

He wouldn’t mind watching half of Asgard burn or all of Jotunheim or even parts of Midgard which Thor had come to care about, but he knows that isn’t what (Y/n) would have wanted, that many innocents would die in the crossfire, that some of those may even be his own, his real, family.

Using the mind stone, Thanos finds the rage and anger within Loki, and there’s a great deal of it after millennia of being slighted by his father and brother and pitied by his mother, and after a century of suffering the loss of the only person he ever loved.

Thanos exploits this and draws it out, sending the mind-controlled Loki to Earth to retrieve the Tesseract for him.

Avengers movie

Everything happens as made, save that one conversation between Thor and Loki.

Thor: “I thought you dead.”

Loki: “Did you mourn?”

Thor: “We all did. Our father...”

Loki: “Your father. He did tell you my true parentage did he not?”

Thor: “We were raised together, we played together, we fought together. Do you remember none of that?”

Loki: “I remember a shadow, living in the shade of your greatness. You speak of togetherness because every time you needed me I was there, but every time I needed you I was alone. I remember studying magic, alone. I remember defending myself against the Warriors Three, alone. I remember standing up to Father, alone. I remember being punished for our tricks, alone.”

Loki: “I was alone until (Y/n) came, and then you took her from me. You made me alone again. Not just for being the cause of her death, but for not caring that you caused it at all. I was back where I began. I mourned her, alone. And when I finally came out of my chambers, I sat, alone, robbed of the only real family I ever knew. And you’re surprised that after millennia of suffering your destruction, I plotted vengeance alone?”

Thor: The Dark World

Loki faces Odin’s punishment for Midgard alone.

He rots in the dungeon until someone tells him Frigga has been killed.

Loki wants to hate her like he hates the rest of them. She was never a good mother. She clearly preferred Thor and pitied Loki. She let Odin run rampant over Asgard and his sons, and she never once defended Loki.

But Loki can’t bring himself to hate her because: for one at least she tried, but more importantly she gave him (Y/n).

Loki goes with Thor because if he can’t avenge (Y/n) then at least he can avenge his mother.

He watches Thor’s love for Jane and can’t decide if he despises it or not. He wants desperately, to watch Thor suffer; but he isn’t sure if that is how. His pain is the sort of pain he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, and his worst enemy was his brother.

In the ship, they talk about it.

Loki: “The only woman who’s love you prize will be snatched from you.”

Thor: “And will that satisfy you brother?”

Loki: “No, but perhaps in a few years, when I get to watch you become me; perhaps that will satisfy me.”

Thor: “This was all about (Y/n)?”

Loki: “That feeling you have for Jane, that love; imagine if it were the only love you’d ever felt. Imagine if Odin despised you and Mother ignored your suffering. Imagine if I spent my life beating you into submission. Imagine if the Warriors Three and all your friends didn’t care about you. And imagine if the Nine Realms never noticed you existed. Imagine the only person you love being the only person who loved you, then imagine my arrogance, after years of cruelty and incompetence, finally ripped it away.”

Loki retreats and sits back down. Loki: “It was always about her. It will always be about her.”

Between Movies

Loki avenges his mother and fakes his own death to rule Asgard as the King they always deserved.

He puts the people first, shares his wealth and power, he rules with a firm, justice hand and doesn’t play favorites like his father.

The people all begin to realize that it isn’t Odin, that Loki has replaced him, when Loki orders a giant statue to his soulmate built in front of his extension to the palace.

No one says anything. They prefer this happy peaceful life Loki’s given them. It’s the life Frigga promised they would get with soulmates, but the life Odin was too warlike to let anyone actually have.

Thor: The Dark World

The movies plot passes pretty much the same, but Loki’s character is more in keeping with his development and style. It isn’t the sort of sniveling, whiny, weak creation Taika came up with.

Loki comes at the end of the movie, not to help Thor, but because he realized Thor was going to have it out with Hel on Asgard and put the people in grave danger, including his real family.

He arrives and sees Delling and Dysis helping their daughters and grandchildren onto the ship he brought.

Loki: “Where are the others?”

Delling, heartbroken: “Gone. They died with the army.”

Loki, discouraged: “And Narfi?”

Delling just shakes his head.

Loki roars out into the battle and ends up fighting side by side with Thor and the Valkyrie.

As he brings about Ragnarok, Loki takes the Tesseract. He knows that even the blast of Ragnarok won’t destroy the Space Gem, and he can’t very well leave it floating in space for Thanos to just casually pick up, so he determines to find somewhere to hide it forever.

As the battle rages on between Surtur and Hel, Loki heads for the Royal Family’s tomb and takes (Y/n)’s crypt, using the Tesseract to port it onto the ship. Everything else is going to go up in flames, and Loki refuses to let that be her legacy.

The end of the movie, onboard the ship, Thor throws a thing at Loki to prove he isn’t there.

Loki catches it. Loki: “I’m here, brother.”

Loki turns and leaves the room, finding (Y/n)’s family and sitting with them. He’s given up vengeance on Thor because he’s finally realized (Y/n) died to save his brother, not so Loki could kill him later. But he knows now that this is his real family.

Thor is off to the side, watching them. This time he’s the one standing alone.

Seeing their interactions, their mourning Narfi and his brothers, their talking with Loki, Thor realizes that Loki was right. They never really treated him like family

He realizes that Odin, with his help, robbed Loki of everything. A normal family, a happy life, his one true love. They even took the family he made for himself.

Thor decides to leave Loki in peace with his family and leave on his own.

Avengers: Infinity War

Loki watches Thanos ready to kill Thor and realizes what Thanos means by half. He’s going to kill half of each group, and that means half of the sons of Odin.

Loki knows that Thor with his Avengers stands a better chance than Loki, and if Thor dies Thanos may well succeed.

More importantly to Loki, if Thor dies, then (Y/n) died in vain.

Loki rushes Thanos and dies so that he is the half of the sons of Odin that Thanos kills. He dies for Thor the same way (Y/n) did.

The rest of the movie happens.

Avengers: Endgame

Finally understanding what Loki felt, finally understanding what it’s like to lose everything, Thor picks up Loki’s quest for vengeance and takes off Thanos’ head.

Then, with no real purpose, Thor mourns, alone, like his brother did.

Movie goes as planned mostly.

When Hulk snaps, he doesn’t just bring back the half of humanity that Thanos snapped out of existence. Thanos had been roaming the galaxy slaughtering half of every inhabited world he encountered, and Hulk (knowing this from watching on the ship) thinks of them too and brings back the millions who died before the snap.

Asgard’s army was killed by Hel before Thanos ever touched them, but Loki is brought back in space and roars into battle to help protect his family.

When the war is finally won, Loki watches Cap disassemble the infinity gauntlet with envy.

The rest of the Avengers are wary that he will try to steal it, but Thor knows what he’s thinking.

Thor: “Perhaps the soul stone might bring her back.”

Loki: “Let her rest brother. I have kept her alive through death for far too long. She deserves peace.”

Loki leaves. No one knows where he’s gone, and no one ever sees him again.

Loki returns to the wreckage, retrieves (Y/n)’s crypt and disappears forever.

I plotted this out when I plotted out the series, because I believe you have to know the whole story to write a story well.

But as you can see, there are huge chunks where the story just overlaps with the movies, so I didn’t think it would make for very good reading.

#loyalty

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years

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“TRIAD” chapter 1 and 2

I included the first chapter below and chapter 2 is on ao3.

Summary: Julius Novachrono, the 28th Wizard King of the Clover Kingdom, is dead. But the chaos that ensues is not the only thing he leaves behind. In order to preserve his legacy, a new widow prepares to claw her way to the top, despite the huge obstacles in her path. Meanwhile, a brand new threat rears its head, and perhaps the end is inevitable. This is just the first of many long, lonely nights, but she must embrace it and let go of her past if she is to undo the damage that's been done... even if that means forsaking the one thing that makes her human.

Chapter 1- the swallowtail

...

"You weren't born because I was born. The only reason I was born... was because I was meant to be yours."

How could you say such a thing? You're the greatest man in the world, yet you were mine... I didn't deserve you.

"They all need you. You won't be alone, I promise."

Alone... no, Julius. I'll be alone forever.

"Just promise me that you'll be alright?"

...

How is anyone supposed to promise that?

But the sun is setting. If I blink, I'll miss that one last look.

But still...

"I will become the Wizard King!"

If the sun is setting anyway... then I will be the one to look away.

I turn away from him, my robe flaring out, and walk off towards the light, the entire world melting away behind me.

Alone...

But I'm not alone, am I?

Thank you, Julius... for everything.

(two days after the attack)

The silence of this forest is comforting, yet so heavy. Well, maybe it's not the silence. The real thing weighing me down is the events of the past few days, the long nights without sleep, and the massive operation ahead of us. Many parts of the Kingdom were destroyed, lives were lost, and now the survivors feel nothing but fear.

Ever since I woke up from my possession by a vengeful elf, I've worked tirelessly. Since so many magic knights seemingly turned against us, leaving the others scared and reluctant to act, it wasn't easy reigning them in and making them start the important clean up process. But somehow, they moved, and now piles of rubble have started to be cleared. Even a little progress is still progress, and there's been enough of it that I feel okay leaving the capitol for a short detour. There's something out in this woods that I need to retrieve.

I keep walking between the trees, looking around and scanning the area for signs of mana, a familiar mana. I should be able to sense it soon... if the magic actually stayed inside. It ended up not working, so maybe it accidentally just released his magic into the environment-

I halt, as a sensation hits me.

...never mind. There it is.

Nestled there among the trees, covered with vines, moss, and dirt, but still intact, is a strange magical device. It's large, taller than I am, shaped like a ball with a few divots in it. But it's most striking feature is that it's practically humming with strong magic, resonating as it's stored inside. I finally slow to a stop, staring at the object blankly, having achieved my objective.

This is it. The Swallowtail.

I'm pretty sure I'm the only person Julius told about the Swallowtail. It's an ancient device used to store mana, and it can be released by force or when a certain condition is met. Julius's magic mark on his forehead would dissolve upon his death, signalling the time he stored to be released. However, something must have gone wrong, because the magic is still inside.

And Julius... is dead.

When I raise my hand to touch the metal surface, laced with years's worth of moss, I realize how much my fingers are trembling.

Julius... you feel so close. This magic is so warm...

My cheeks suddenly feel a spike of coolness. There are tears, now, tears that I've repressed for two days.

Please...

My hand splays over the surface. I can feel the time, 13 years worth, he said, living inside. Time that could have saved his life, but somehow refused to. But now, it would have a new purpose. I'm the only other person who can use this magic, so I'll take it.

Give me the strength to fulfill my promise. Give me the strength to face the future without you.

The mana starts to seep into me, causing my whole body to glow. I squeeze my eyes shut, more tears streaking down my face as the magic envelops me like a warm hug, seeping into my very soul, and combining with the magic I already have within me. I will always carry a shard of Julius's soul within me, but it's not the same as holding his hand, or listening to his voice, or just being held by him.

It makes more sense to me now... why I loved you so much.

You made me human, right? Even when I didn't feel like it.

So, give me the strength to keep being human.

Finally, the glow subsides, leaving just an empty, useless Swallowtail behind. With a sigh, I let my hand slide off of it as I step back.

Thirteen years of time... I hold my hands up to look at them, wiggling my fingers slightly. There's a lot I can do with that... hopefully this will continue to come in handy.

Before I start my journey home, I sit down next to the Swallowtail and pull out my lunch, a single sandwich. While I eat, my mind wanders to the monumental task ahead of me, but also to the past that's brought me here.

It was about 8 years ago when I first met Julius. He happened to be passing my town while we were attacked by the Diamond Kingdom, an attack that left my father dead. I didn't know it back then, but my father carried a secret with him: He was a fugitive from a destroyed nation, living out his life here in the Clover Kingdom. He was part of a people called "Simulcians," a mysterious race that had the power to channel huge amounts of mana through marks on their body. Mine appeared on that day, allowing me to reach my magical potential at last. The source of that mana was something called a "Dyad," the result of an ancient spell that amplified the mana of two people by combining their magic and consciousness. It's weird, and very scary, but without it, I would have never gotten this far. And in the end, once I was strong enough... it was ecstasy.

Julius and I... we formed a Dyad of our own. It's almost a sacred thing, the strongest yet most vulnerable a two people can be. Much like love itself... love is a beautiful thing, but now, it does nothing but hurt me.

Because he's gone. Julius will never come back, no matter how much I want him to.

However... there's still three pieces of him left. One is the shard of his soul lodged within mine. That soul is what gave me the ability to use his time magic, and over the years I have managed to make it my own.

And the second...

My hand comes to rest on my stomach, and I manage to smile despite the grief.

Thank god... I don't know what I would do, if I didn't have this baby...

It was against all odds that this new life was possible. After forming a Dyad, my body supposedly shut down all it's reproductive functions. And yet, a miracle occurred. It reminds me of years ago, when I was still a member of the Crimson Lions, when I thought I might be pregnant. Julius was overjoyed at the mere possibility of becoming a father, even if it was unexpected. It was his dream, to have a family with me. He would have been so happy now...

The last piece is the promise I made.

I will become the Wizard King.

I said it in a desperate attempt to get his approval one last time, to see him smile before we parted ways forever. Something to put him at ease before he passed.

But I still made the promise, and I'm going to keep it! I'll become the Wizard King, Julius, no matter how hard it's going to be.

I finally stand up to leave, brushing myself off and looking back at the Swallowtail one last time.

... If only you had done your job.

Despite the baby inside me and the determination to achieve my goal, I can't shake the feeling of emptiness inside me. I would trade everything just to have Julius back at my side.

But, it's not like that's going to be possible.

So, I turn away, opening my blue grimoire. "Flame magic: Sun God's Leap."

Four pairs of small wings form around my body. I used to just have two pairs, but the elvish mana managed to push this spell further. With a single push, I shoot off the ground, accelerated to a speed near that of sound... just like Julius used to do.

For the time being, I would throw myself into my work, for the sake of this kingdom. But after that...

I'm prepared to do anything it takes to keep my promise.

#dyad sequel!!!!#fic #I am so excited to write some politics....#also you will definitely see a new side of Lisa as she's kind of pushed to the fucking limit lol

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hibibun · 4 years

Text

A New Perspective

Series: The Magnus Archives Pairing: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims Summary: “Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding a tome that… appears to transmogrify humans to have catlike features. Statement given direct from subje—Ow,” Jon glares, trying to ignore the unintentional way he feels his newfound tail swish to reflect his annoyance, ears flattening. Elias’s normally well-manicured nails have elongated to claws, and currently one was digging through the thin fabric of his skirt and into his thigh.

“Oops,” Elias says, infuriatingly blasé. Jon hesitates another moment, before sighing and leaving the tape recorder going. If the topic ceased being important, surely it would turn itself off.

“You could at least pretend you didn’t do this on purpose.”

for day 5 - alternate universe Notes/Warnings: Catboy Leitner, Seduction to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Asexual Character, Demisexual Jon, Nonbinary Jon, Intercrural Sex, Misuse of Beholding Powers, mild bloodplay this is the self indulgent fic i gifted to myself this week and by virtue of that very little set up for this AU dynamic. i just wanted to use the day five prompts for catboys and was encouraged. thank you theo for suggesting specifically catboy leitners.

also jon's gender identity is not super elaborated on here, but he has been experimenting with presentation and finding comfort in some more typically 'feminine' clothing, but hasn't given much thought to pronouns or labels beyond it yet. he just realized after hiding out at georgie's and needing to borrow her clothes again that wow skirts are nice and he deserves to feel good about that after everything that's happened. if i ever play around in this universe again, the progression may develop, but for now. here we go!

AO3

“Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding a tome that… appears to transmogrify humans to have catlike features. Statement given direct from subje—Ow,” Jon glares, trying to ignore the unintentional way he feels his newfound tail swish to reflect his annoyance, ears flattening. Elias’s normally well-manicured nails have elongated to claws, and currently one was digging through the thin fabric of his skirt and into his thigh.

“Oops,” Elias says, infuriatingly blasé. Jon hesitates another moment, before sighing and leaving the tape recorder going. If the topic ceased being important, surely it would turn itself off.

“You could at least pretend you didn’t do this on purpose.”

Elias makes a noise implying he’s listening, but doesn’t do much else besides repeat that same flexing of claws and Jon hates the hiss that leaves his mouth. It’s unnatural, and for that reason it catches Elias’s attention, an upturn to the corner of his already smiling mouth, which Jon recognizes as the man holding back laughter.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t curious,” he tries to justify knowing it to be the truth, but one Jon will protest.

“Yes, but I’m not so rash as to mess with any of those cursed things; which leads me to believe you knew what it would do,” Jon retorts, as there are now too many concerns and questions arising that he doesn’t know the answers to and will simply have to wait out. It is possible Elias knows, but extremely doubtful he’d tell him.

At least if he was stuck in this state as well that had to mean whatever they were in for couldn’t be dangerous—just unpleasant.

He shifts back trying to squirm away from Elias who had only been getting closer. It wasn’t like he had very many places to go what with being on the edge of the sofa and a coffee table in front of him. Next time, he’ll think twice about Elias asking if he’d like to see something in such a vague manner when he’s over. Not that he wasn’t prepared on some level for it to be undoubtedly supernatural, but this was something he hadn’t necessarily signed up for.

During his complaints, Elias has now fully managed to straddle the leg that isn’t pressed to the side of the couch, and Jon is mentally cataloguing the notion that whatever the book did to them, it must have made him feel the need to be twice as physically annoying. Surely.

“Still unpleasant?” Elias whispers, mouth ghosting the shell of his ear. He raises a hand to gently tug at the corner of one of Jon’s cat ears, observing the way it flicks out of his grasp.

“Get out of my head,” Jon bats at his shoulder, but doesn’t try to move away. Rather than pull again, Elias has moved on to experimenting with different petting styles. Reluctantly, Jon finds himself relaxing when his scratching lingers between his ears and drifting to the base of his neck.

“You were fond of this even before getting these, but it is interesting to see how you react now,” Elias starts, pleased in the way Jon’s eyes unwittingly close. “See, you’re even purring.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles back though any bite in it is absent. He’s content and this was Elias’s fault anyway, so he should deal with the consequences.

“You are fixing this after,” Jon cracks an eye open to stare at Elias, who was still scratching gently at his nape. He closes it again soon after, trying not to stress too much about how strange it felt to have appendages he shouldn’t.

“After?” Elias muses, closing their distance again this time to nip at his earlobe. The hand Jon had been resting on the arm of the sofa flinches, tearing into the cushion. The discrepancy between one calm activity and one that gives a very different implication startled him, and he certainly did not feel bad about the outcome.

“I’m not paying for that,” he lets out testily, followed by a short gasp as Elias begins making his way down his neck. In lieu of a proper response, Jon’s only given a hum before the bites turn sharper, harder. There’s a slightly different edge to it than usual, as if whatever the tome did even managed to sharpen Elias’s teeth, but it’s a detail he only thinks in passing.

As much as he complains about it, beyond familiarity, what makes these things bearable with someone like Elias is he can see and read his boundaries before even Jon realizes them. In that regard, he trusts the man. He shouldn’t, case in point with this whole situation, but he has only ever promised him the eventuality of answers and assurance they will be to his expectations. Jon may not enjoy or have wished for the experiences he’s had, but he knows deep down he doesn’t necessarily regret them as much as he should. Not when he knows now just what they’ve done for him. The answers they gave. The power.

He’s lost himself in that sometimes. The Knowing and the Seeing. He is forever seemingly a moth to that blindingly atrocious, yet beautiful light.

Something he had denied and feared for so long, but with Elias there’s freedom to it now. Acceptance. Even if his patience is constantly tried.

He inhales sharply as a hand unbuttons enough of his dress shirt to fondle a nipple. Gently, ever so gently that he barely catches on in time, Elias shifts his legs apart enough to press one knee to approximately where his crotch would be hidden under the folds of the skirt. A whine leaves him unintentionally because through the fabric it barely feels like anything at all, even as his cock twitches in response. Jon doesn’t need to voice his complaints—he knows Elias can hear them and feel them, but he knows similarly he won’t actually do anything until he speaks up.

Adjusting for discomfort immediately without question is one thing, making him beg as a form of consent is another.

“How would you like this?” Elias asks so simply. It’s the option for an out, but the question has thoughts and images rushing through Jon’s mind. Things they’ve done. Things he wouldn’t mind again right now. The burning question of whether their current ailments are causing any influence, and if that was another thing Elias knew and refused to share. Somehow, he doubts that part—which lends itself further to the theory that Elias had his own ideas and irritatingly is keeping them to himself.

The man in question smiles at him in a chiding way, applying a touch more pressure with his nails against the skin of his chest. “I believe I asked a question, Jon.”

Hesitantly, he grinds into that knee, still thinking things over. The question does make him want to hide, squirm away into that place he can go to when they start proper if Elias lets him. Usually though, like now, he’s dragging him out bit by bit—quite appropriate of one who wants to watch and strip him bare both physically and mentally.

He isn’t afraid of sex. On the surface, it is a messy activity that occasionally is worth the pleasure that comes with it. It’s the intimacy that comes with it, however, that truly scares him. That raw sensation of uncontrollable openness Jon has no way of hiding from. It’s terrifying, enthralling. But he’s found acceptance—Elias has accepted him. Wants it. Wants him.

Jon doesn’t vocalize what he’s thinking, but he does focus on one image. The fantasy of it playing behind his eyelids broadcasted for Elias and he must be feeling kind if he isn’t still pushing Jon to speak.

It might have something to do with putting them in this situation in the first place. Even then, Jon is surprised he’s being so nice.

“Very well, we can do that.” With all the grace Elias normally has, it feels even more fluid this time as he slinks off him and stands. Delicately, he leans down and presses the stop button on the tape recorder. They both know if it wants to keep recording, there will simply be another one waiting for them in the bedroom. Whatever else their new forms cause in this regard though is something even Jon is fighting himself on wanting to catalogue—not that he sincerely believes what they’re about to do has any relevance to how the tome has changed them.

He turns and heads there now, and in a daze, Jon moves to join him feeling much less graceful in comparison.

Jon typically hates showing skin wishing to avoid the sensation of feeling exposed. When clothed it’s easier to hide and vulnerability aside, it’s also simply easier to pretend his body isn’t nearly as scarred as he knows it is. Considering who’s looking, there won’t be the lingering and questioning stares like those of strangers when he’s on the tube. Right now at least, it’s freeing if only for the sheer fact his new tail has a little less pressure from the elastic that was pinching it to his back as he slips the skirt off. If this lasts longer than the next day or two, he’ll have to make adjustments to his clothes, but such a mundane fact is the last thing he has on his mind right now.

Elias is once again watching him seated from the bed, and that shiver returns as to why he doesn’t normally like to be naked. His expression reflects how effortlessly the man has mentioned that watching him is one of his favorite things to do, and Jon personally can’t understand it even now. It at least made sense when he was plotting; quietly maneuvering all the pieces on his elaborate board game, but maybe in a way he’s still doing that. After all, he had freely admitted that Jon learning his place on the board and coming to willingly take those moves on his own wasn’t a part of his initial plan—just one he seemed happy to see nonetheless.

Slowly, he unbuttons a few more buttons of his dress shirt, but ultimately leaves it on. Elias doesn’t comment, not even to tease on how it was more notably the top buttons below the collar he slips apart, and merely continues to watch. The way his ears flick just slightly, alongside how well he’s come to know the man are the only indications Jon has on any of it. His steps take him to beside the bed, and after a beat of hesitation, he straddles one of Elias’s knees and braces his hands on his shoulders.

Immediately, Elias’s hands find purchase on Jon’s hips, one hand drifting closer to his lower back. Jon lets out a shaky breath as that hand brushes just below the waistband of his pants where his new tail meets his skin. Jon shifts so it’s more of an embrace than a balancing act, wanting instead to hide in the crook of Elias’s shoulder as he slowly begins to guide himself along the other man’s thigh, moving closer so he can rut at his chest. He can feel himself already leaking and it’s embarrassing, not at all helped as the hand on his lower back starts playing with the sensitive tail he never asked for. As he’s starting to get comfortable, Elias tugs on the tail. Not sharp enough for genuine pain, but testing the sensation to see how Jon would react.

What he likely wasn’t expecting was for Jon’s hands to tighten their grip, impulsively shredding down the cloth of Elias’s dress shirt, tearing it enough for slivers of blood to rise at the newly made cuts.

It’s satisfying hearing the exhalation of pain soaked pleasure, a sure sign that the bastard got what he deserved and wouldn’t try that again. It’s less satisfying when it only dissolves into a chuckle as Elias moves his hand away, instead navigating Jon away from where he’d been trying to hide and into a kiss. He indulges him briefly, before biting Elias’s lower lip. None of this dissuades him though, and irritatingly Jon can tell it’s acting as encouragement.

At some point during the kiss, he’s moved back to holding him, and in short work, Elias slips the hand holding Jon’s waist under his thighs, lifting him just slightly to shift him properly on the bed. The movement is a little jarring, but more so that his tail seems to move on its own out of the way of being crushed by his back.

Elias hisses in a not quite human way himself as he slowly removes his now ruined shirt. Jon doesn’t feel the least bit sympathetic, instead a little entranced by the severity of the lines staining the back now facing him. An odd impulse to lick at the wounds flickers through his mind, and while he’s quick to dismiss it, it definitely catches Elias’s attention.

He sits back at the edge of the bed and looks over his shoulder at the Archivist sprawled. There’s no need to say out loud what his eyes say for him. So Jon sits up again and slinks forward to splay his hands on Elias’s back taking in the extent of the damage. In that same daze, he’s moved forward the rest of the way, tentatively licking up a bead of blood along the stripe of reddened skin. Jon feels more than hears Elias’s sigh and he snaps out of it.

“Elias… what exactly did you intend when you read from that book?”

A shiver wracks through Elias and Jon is startled as he didn’t think he’d been asking that earnestly. In truth, he hadn’t really been thinking at all.

There’s a pause as he catches his breath, and with deliberate patience to prove he’s still in control, only then does Elias offer an answer.

“I wanted to see what you would do,” he twists around, a familiar smile in place as he knows it isn’t a satisfactory answer at all, however true he means it. Jon’s frown speaks as much.

“Now then, will you let me finish undressing or were you not finished?”

His irritation bleeds into arousal as even though he’ll complain about everything else regarding their current state, Jon has been given the reins with this one. He remains where he is until Elias has left for the adjoining bathroom and then tries to get comfortable. It’s easier when there aren’t eyes directly on him, even if he knows truly that he’s never really free of them.

The brief sound of the faucet is calming, and by the time Elias returns his annoyance, while still present, has simmered back down. He joins him soon enough, and all at once again he feels the dual maddening sensation of being quietly observed in all its assurance and fear. He watches too though, as Elias kneels on the bed above him and traces his hands up Jon’s thighs causing shivers in their wake. Elias’s hands are still slightly cold and damp, and being exposed like this always makes him fidget.

“Would you be a dear and tell me what it is you’d like again? I believe in all that excitement, it must have slipped my mind,” Elias asks, fingers now playing along the waistband of Jon’s panties, not quite taking them off, but teasingly letting the silk fabric brush against his cock. Whatever amount of kindness he’d attributed the man earlier clearly meant nothing, and the smug smile presented towards him now only makes him bare his teeth.

“What does it matter if you’ll do as you like anyway?”

Elias lowers himself, his hands having abandoned their place at Jon’s waistband and now rucking up the bottom of his dress shirt. His breath ghosts the skin of Jon’s stomach before biting down and sucking harshly. Jon yelps and reaches for Elias’s head, though he doesn’t attempt to pull him off so much as tugs at his hair in response to the treatment—almost pulling at one of his cat ears instead. He only feels him moan in response, not letting up until he’s satisfied the mark will be a vibrant purple. The momentary lick Elias gives before pulling back has Jon thankful again that their tongues hadn’t been changed as well.

“I’m sure you’ll give me your input regardless. Now then, shall we?”

If he wasn’t busy panting, Jon would call him out for being a bastard, but judging from his expression Elias knows well enough what he’s thinking. Feeling Elias rub his hands along his sides is placating to a degree, but the motion is also a gentle reminder that he’s waiting for an answer.

“I-I don’t want any penetration—but between my thighs is fine,” Jon finally gets out, a twinge of annoyance at being forced to admit it out loud. The desire is in equal parts wanting an easier to clean mess and because he can’t see a particularly comfortable way to prepare for anything more with the state their nails are in. A fact that is likely obvious and one the man above him could have realized on his own, but he’s almost certain putting Jon in situations like this where he must confess his desires is pleasurable in its own way.

Still, for all his irritation, Elias moves back up and distracts him with a kiss. It’s difficult to tell whether he’s genuinely trying to ease the jittery sensation he’s caused or chase after it. It works in calming Jon down enough though that when he feels the palm of Elias’s hand brush and rub at the bulge threatening to escape his underwear, his nervousness doesn’t get in the way of enjoying it.

His noises are their own quiet admissions that he’s enjoying this and Elias happily swallows them all, pinching Jon’s lower lip between his teeth again as a reward. Jon has already seen the lengths Elias will deny him if he tries to quiet himself or close his eyes.

“Hold yourself for me,” Elias tells him, leaving one final kiss on the scar adorning his neck. Once they break, anticipation pools in Jon’s stomach. He’s slow and deliberate as he moves away again, finally sliding down the slightly soiled silk from Jon’s waist and watches him. It’s mystifying still for Jon, being looked at like this considering what he knows his body looks like. Yet, Elias looks at him like he’s everything, as bizarre as that feeling is.

“My Archivist… do you want to see for yourself?” The man muses in response no doubt once again reading what he’s thinking. Jon intends to say no or ignore the sentiment, but like the times before he’s shown anyway.

Through Elias’s eyes, he watches the man trace the remnants of worm holes, long scarred over. He trails down his arm and lingers on his hand, palm holding his burn scar as his thumb brushes along the faded pink scar Michael left him. He shivers again with the weight of that gaze. It’s more than simply being Seen when Elias talks to him like this he’s found.

It helps a little, oddly enough. Jon will never quite understand it beyond knowing Elias had a vision and a plan for him, but to be gazed at like this is nice.

Moments after, it’s disorienting to return to his own line of sight, and it takes him an extra minute to realize he’s supposed to position himself. He raises his hips, uncomfortably shifting to hold his legs together and hates the way Elias leaves him hanging like that. His prick is pressed against his stomach smearing precum, and he wants to look away out of embarrassment. The man is obviously just enjoying himself, but Jon’s tail swishes in impatience.

“Sheathe your claws, I was just admiring the view,” Elias reassures and closes their distance, taking a hold of Jon’s calves and places a hand on his hip. It helps significantly in easing Jon’s tension, no longer needing to hold himself up on his own. His breath hitches soon after though as he feels Elias position himself between his thighs. The sight is somehow more erotic even though what they’re doing is a mere pantomime of the act itself—though, it’s likely the similar enough sensation along with watching Elias’s cock move in and out that gets to him.

Jon doesn’t even quite know where to focus his attention after a point. There’s the aforementioned view of the act in question, his own body in frame next to it and then there is Elias. Usual, perfectly composed Elias is wonderful to view like this. Jon has more than once thought the man was obnoxiously beautiful to the point where his tastes and sense of decorum were annoyingly impressed upon Jon. Even the moment he’d divulged wanting to once more express himself outside the confines of what was thought to be strictly male business fashion, the man was relentless in his gifts of long silk skirts and dresses designed for galas he’d only attend once, maybe twice, if negotiated, a year.

Like this though, that carefully constructed image he pieced together fell to pieces. Jon knows by now, Elias isn’t ‘human’, that he himself is becoming less human as the days go on, but right now they’re doing something that feels unlike whatever godly status Elias strives for.

It’d be easier to lose himself in the sensation if allowed to close his eyes, but Jon knows and already sees the disappointed stare that would greet him if he tried. Perhaps more threatening is the awareness that Elias would do more than just that. His disappointment while devastating is nothing compared to the teasing and repeated denial he’d impose to get what he wants. To ensure that Jon knows better and acknowledges not only that he will watch, but that deep down Jon would prefer to see too.

Elias is mostly quiet above him, the set of heavier breaths come from the movement involved and surely the pleasure he’s feeling. Jon’s legs feel just as messy the more he feels Elias move, his member spreading slick precum between his thighs with each thrust.

He doesn’t notice himself how good the watching and the sensation of it make him feel, but Elias must as he shifts their position just slightly. Opening Jon’s thighs more, he slots himself in easily, instead moving the hand he’d been using to help hold the Archivist’s legs up to instead grip both their pricks and stroke them together.

Jon moans and arches into his touch, having it hit him all at once how desperately he’d been wanting that and wanting Elias close. Without needing to speak it, he’s granted the kiss he wanted, too lost in the feeling to realize how noisy he’s become with his mouth now open. When Elias tries to move back, Jon chases his mouth. The kiss resumes with a chuckle that Jon quickly silences with another bite.

“Eager thing aren’t you?” Elias teases him when they break next and too swept up in it all, Jon doesn’t even register the inhuman growl he lets out at being teased or denied contact once again. As to which bothered him worse, even he doesn’t know. Never once does it occur to Jon that he’s become less dependent on air when they kiss and that each time they break it is for different reasons entirely. Elias is pleased nonetheless from that reaction, and rewards him by increasing his pace just slightly.

His vision shifts dramatically as release hits him, Elias once again making his point loud and clear. Layered across his skin are dozens of eyes rapidly opening, and if he isn’t mistaken, there’s a few on Elias himself no doubt wanting to capture the event as thoroughly as possible. It borders on overwhelming. The fear of acknowledging himself like this—seeing the way Elias practically adores it.

Jon comes back to himself slowly, unsure if he’s uncomfortable by having to view himself that way or by distinctly how filthy he’s aware his stomach and legs have become. What’s worse is, as he looks down when Elias gets off the bed to fetch a washcloth for them, Jon sees his tail is still there.

There is absolutely no reason to think sex would fix this. Nothing suggested as much obviously, but it was a momentary distraction from how much the situation irked him. Now that it was over, he’s also aware that Elias likely had meant it as such. A poor attempt at changing the subject and maybe an even poorer excuse of an apology. No, the man wasn’t sorry in the least bit—he probably was genuinely excited by the inhumanity of it given how pleased he looked at… the eyes.

Jon shivers as he recalls that part too. It isn’t the first time he’s seen it, and while he’s made his choice, acceptance only comes sparingly. Whatever it meant to become the Archivist was something he’s given into. This change, he thinks trying to ignore his new appendages once more, however, he direly hopes is temporary.

For now, Jon finally closes his eyes and resolves to prod Elias for a proper answer when he returns.

#writing #writing: tma #pairing: jonelias #character: Jonathan Sims #character: Elias Bouchard #character: Jonah Magnus #joneliasweek2020 #jonelias #bro what if we were transformed into catboys............. and we kissed #im also late crossposting this apologies

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thegirlissaige · 4 years

Text

“Love- I have come to learn that I love fiercely and unapologetically and finally, I embrace it fully…“

To Love: Thank you for loving me, even in the times it was difficult loving me in my own eyes. You continue to remind me that I am loved, I am love and I am the apple of God’s eye. Thank you for being my muse…

Seasons:

I have come to appreciate the changing of seasons in life. No longer do I see the winters of life as a death sentence or a state brought upon by a lack of favour in my life but as a time for process, pruning, growth and a time for reflection. My desire to be in control and to always know what to do next for the longest time plagues my days. Right now I’m I feel like I’m being tested, tested to see in a time where a lot is so unclear and not guaranteed, would I still trust the process? Will I still trust God and surrender to His promise that states that everything will work out for my good?

Failures and disappointments:

In the failures and disappointments from the previous years - I have learnt that when you hit the ground as you wrestle the dust and stinging heat from the tar, you can only pull yourself up from failures’ uncomfortable conditions. Failure feels this way because it is not our natural state of being... purpose, favour and love is what we were made for. You can only aim high and if you are brave enough, higher than where you were previously standing before your fall. It is a never-ending journey but I am also learning that disappointments are a guarantee in this lifetime but what I can control is how I deal with them.

Being human, having the gift of life:

Besides the permanent loss of a loved one, death leaves a sting that reminds you how fragile life is as well as how human you are. It forces you to deal with the unsettling fact that your time is coming too, you just have no idea when. What this reality in the past would do is scare me to the point of sudden bursts of anxiety attacks and all I would want to do is stop thinking and take a sleeping pill that would send me on my way to a peaceful thought-free dimension of rest then later I would realise all I did was escape the reality but anyone who has attempted to escape reality knows very well that you cannot run from it forever.

Instead of escaping, I decided to learn about why I felt the way I did about death and how I could deal with it. Instead of being overtaken by the fear of not ever seeing my loved ones again or the unknown (not knowing when my time is coming), I can live my life to the fullest by spending more time doing the things I love (big and small) and making memorable memories with those close to my heart. Now with me being an over-thinker, it was not easy for me to adopt the saying “live in the moment” because I would constantly be thinking about what could go wrong or the next moment and how I could make it even more special than the current (she’s a weirdo huh? I know). Nowadays, I’m learning to master being in the moment and it is the best thing I could have ever decided to do because now I can be present in the very space and time I desire to have forever (not all days are rainbows)

The 3 biggest things I have learnt about myself in the past 25 years and choose to embrace:

Love- I have come to learn that I love fiercely and unapologetically and finally, I embrace it fully. I move confidently in it. In its highs and lows. Previously, I used to fight this nature, my nature. I have always thought that it would overwhelm those who have chosen to love me in the name of romance or even in friendship and that maybe it could just reek of desperation or clinginess but I finally realised that my kind of love heals and grows. It is the kind of love that makes one brave pushing you to your highest potential and cradles you on the days the sun refuses to shine through your heavy clouds as it shelters you and kisses your wounds better. I want to be a reflection of at least a ¼ of a sand grain of God’s love in the life of others and if I can achieve this then my purpose is fulfilled.

Vulnerability- I am the most vulnerable and open person I know. I would suppress it and hold back in conversations with those close and around me until two years back in a group conversation I opened up about how I was dealing with depression at the time expressing that the stigma in black families along with their communities around depression was crippling. The vulnerability I finally understand is not a weakness, in fact, it is my superpower. I have also come to appreciate the vulnerability in my writing as I bleed my truth on every line and it has become my signature. It frees me now that I understand and accept this superpower.

Resilience- I am the strongest person I know. On days my eyelids fill up like the Red Sea, I forget the strength I possess but my battle scars and those close to me that have seen me slay dragons or love with a heart beating on the floor, arteries still attached after it was ripped out of my chest in cold blood without reservation, I am reminded of this supernatural strength. I can conquer any boulder and fears that come my way.

The 1 thing I am trying to leave behind as I grow:

Validation from man (humanity)- My unhealthy relationship with validation from people along with holding high the opinions of others on the choices I make, even over mine was highlighted last year. It has been toxic to my journey of becoming, becoming a better version of myself and stifled growth in so many essential areas in my life. Honestly, it also had a lot to do with me realising that after certain challenges in my life, I lost a lot of confidence in myself, my abilities and my standing with Jesus, my standing with God. It took me being brutally honest with myself (which was difficult as it uncovered deep-seated issues and a lot of pride) to really pinpoint where things went wrong to give light to the places that needed healing and how restoration could be achieved.

I can only speak for myself by saying that I am the grace of God walking. He has pulled me out of nightmares, storms and during the times when I would have to weather the storm, He would be my umbrella and my anchor. Now with restored confidence that is a journey of progression because some days weigh heavier than others, I can say that I’m finally confident in my gifts and purpose. I no longer put the opinions and thoughts of others above mine and what God says about the situation. I can receive and appreciate thoughts and views of loved ones but still reject them confidently against my own. To those who continue to support me in the name of love on the days that the sun doesn’t shine, even on the days it does, thank you.

Thank you for letting me blab. Probably will do a lot of blabbing and dumping random stuff here 🙃

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arcadianambivalence · 4 years

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World on Fire, Episode 1

March 1939 – September 1939

World on Fire begins with a blackshirt rally in Manchester. Blackshirts (not to be confused with the Italian group of the same name) were paramilitary supporters of the British Union of Fascists political party, led by Sir Oswald Mosley.

In the middle of this rally, where a mustached man levels all too familiar accusations, a singer named Lois and her interpreter (boy)friend Harry break out in a derisive contrafactum of “Bye, Bye Blackbird.” The two are thrown from the rally and arrested while the fascists remain free to incite violence, an irony that is not lost on Lois or her father, Douglas.

After their parents pay their bail, Lois and Harry part ways, not only because they come from different classes, but also because Harry is leaving for a translator position in Warsaw.

The next thing we know, it’s five months later, and we are introduced to a completely different character, an American journalist named Nancy Campbell. Shades on and swigging from a flash, Nancy swerves down a road along the German-Polish border until she notices something and stops to investigate. Lying at the edge of the woods is a pile of bodies. She attempts to look for identification in the uniforms the dead men are wearing but is startled by the sound of nearby gunfire. German soldiers are executing people in civilian garb, and if that’s not enough of a sign that war is imminent, Nancy finds an entire field littered with (illegal) tanks. As she escapes back to the car, a German soldier fires through the rear window.

“Nazi Germany is a master of illusions, and the greatest illusion of all is that they are seriously negotiation for peace.”

Nancy arrives in Warsaw unscathed and determined. Harry is there too. In the months since he left England, Harry has fallen in love with Kasia, and her family has welcomed him with open arms . But the massacre at the border is not enough to convince his new girlfriend, Kasia, to leave Poland. In the months since he left England, Harry has fallen in love with Kasia, and her family has welcomed him with open arms. Poland isn’t entirely defenseless, either. Her father, Stefan, and brother, Grzegorz, are going to fight for the Free City of Danzig, a key barrier between Poland and Germany. (FINALLY, something that talks about Danzig!)

“What sort of camera is that?” “A Leiker.” “Ah, German-made. Perhaps when Harry clicks the shutter we should all duck.”

Stefan is hopeful that Poland (with the help of the long-promised British support) will successfully push back the German army. Harry can’t bring himself to say that his homeland will likely not honor its promises in the way Stefan envisions. Later that night, he begs with his boss to do something to help the Tomaszeski family, but his boss waves him off.

Nancy is encountering the same reaction with her nephew, Webster, who is currently working as a doctor in Paris and enjoying every minute of its jazz scene. While Harry’s love for Kasia makes him want to flee Warsaw with her, Webster’s budding relationship with saxophone player Albert makes him want to remain in Paris with him.

Ultimately, this first episode places its characters between the delicately balanced familiar and the incoming unfamiliar. Despite the bodies at the border, invasion still feels so abstract as Kasia goes to work as a waitress and Douglas sips his tea at home.

At no point is this more apparent than Stefan and Grzegorz’s arrival in Danzig. Far from a confrontation on a literal battlefield, the father and son prepare to fend off the German arrival from a post office, and it is post office on a little peninsula in Danzig that the first shots of war are fired. (At one point in the first attack, you can see a stack of envelopes go flying over the end of Grzegorz’s carbine.)

Outnumbered and outmanned, the Polish fighters keep fighting for hour after hour, defending the building floor by floor, and finally, room by room. After nearly a day of combat, Grzegorz, Stefan, and Konrad are pinned in the basement with other survivors. Realizing that reinforcements are not coming, Stefan considers surrender, but the others agree to fight on.

As is sometimes done in period pieces, the fictional Stefan is placed in a leadership position instead of the people who actually rallied the fighters and, ultimately, raised the flag of surrender.

The basement in which the survivors are recovering is set ablaze in the final push against the Polish. Grzegorz watches in horror as men are burned alive in the underground inferno. In the chaos, Stefan steps out of the gouged frame of the post office with a make-shift flag of truce. As was, unfortunately, true to life, German soldiers open fire on the surrendering man.

Grzegorz and Konrad escape through the sewers and climb to safety in a bombed-out building. A band of German soldiers enters close behind them, and the two hide behind a door. But Grzegorz, whose congenital cough is exacerbated by the grime of the explosions, coughs, revealing their hiding place. The two are led out into the town and backed against a wall for execution by a very young and frightened German soldier. Seeing his fear, Grzegorz offers the soldier two packets of British cigarettes that Harry gave him earlier. The soldier does not accept the cigarettes, but he does turn away at the sound of another execution. Grzegorz and Konrad use this moment to escape once more.

The young German soldier, it turns out, is the son of Nancy’s neighbors in Berlin. Having returned to her normal assignment in Berlin, Nancy continues to broadcast the progression of the newly-declared war, but with a more conscientious word choice than her typical bluntness. This is Nazi Germany, and her every word is closely monitored.

The Luftwaffe fly over Warsaw in the morning. Harry tries to find Kasia in the chaos and is thrown through the glass doors of the restaurant in the shockwave of a blast. He proposes. Once more, she starts to turn him down out of concern for her family, but she loves him and can’t say goodbye yet. While the city around them recovers from the aerial bombardment, Harry and Kasia elope.

(Only the young and in love can smile as their country is officially being invaded, I guess).

Life is much calmer in Paris, but it is not without danger. Albert the saxophonist arrives at the American hospital where Webster works after being attacked by Action Francaise, a French extremist group that espoused many of the same beliefs as the British Union of Fascists, the Nazi party, etc. As Webster tends to Albert’s wounds, Albert cautiously tries to determine if Webster’s interest stems from music or love.

In England, life seems even safer. Lois has work at a factory and moonlights as a singer, her true passion, to provide for her brother, a happy-go-lucky petty thief, and her father, who turned to pacifism after his experiences in the First World War, experiences which still haunt him with shell shock, though he is embarrassed to admit it. With the declaration of war, there seems less and less of a place for peace in the world, and Douglas is starting to fear that his children, already at odds with his pacifism, will be swept up in war like he was.

Still in school, Kasia’s little brother Jan is already on the verge of growing up too fast. With his father and brother gone, he is technically “Man of the House,” a title swiftly refused by Kasia. She holds Jan tightly and tells him that from now on, he will have to be very brave. Within the course of one episode, Kasia has changed from carefree to heavy-hearted. One way or another, she will have to leave her family behind.

Harry calls his mother, Roberta, and tells her that he will take the next train out of Warsaw. Far removed from any danger (and partial to the very fascism that brought it!), Roberta is too busy planning a party with her wealthy friends to be terribly concerned.

Before he can tell her that he is bringing his new wife home with him, Harry chickens out. There isn’t really a good way to say you’ve moved on from your British kind-of girlfriend that your mother hated to marry your Polish girlfriend that your mother will definitely hate.

But no matter. There’ll be time enough when he gets home.

The train station is packed with people fleeing the city and saying goodbye, perhaps forever, to their loved ones. Harry, dressed in wide-brimmed hat and trench coat like a British Rick Blaine, anxiously waits for Kasia to arrive. But Casablanca, this is not. Kasia emerges from the sea of people, Jan in tow. He’s come to see them off, Kasia explains with a kiss. Harry loads her light suitcase onto the train as Kasia says her goodbyes to her little brother.

And this is where the show convinced me to follow it to the end. As the train begins to leave, Harry holding her suspiciously light suitcase, Kasia lifts Jan onto the train and slams the door behind him. “If you love me,” she shouts to Harry over the shriek of the train whistle, “You’ll watch over Jan.”

As the train carries a stunned Jan and Harry away, Kasia cranes for a final look at the family she will have to live without, for she has made up her mind not to flee as a refugee, but to fight on like her father and her brother and the thousands of other Polish volunteers against the oncoming storm.

Closing Thoughts

At first, I thought it was a strange choice to start the series with Harry and Lois’s arrest, especially since the relationship between the two characters could easily have been communicated through the editing like the Rossler family.

But after rewatching the first episode, I began to realize the bigger themes of this series. The threat of fascism is not simply Germany and Italy versus the World, but a possibility in England and France, too. The inclusion of the BUF and Action Francais brings out the movements that could have risen higher in their countries, blending the simple lines of this country is good, this country is bad often drawn in period pieces.

World on Fire shakes up the typical portrayal of war by basing it on the ground with civilians from perspectives not traditionally seen in media. Sure, there are the strapping young British guys of Harry and Tom who will inevitably be involved in the more familiar portraits of heroics, but the use of a translator and petty criminal as your average war heroes is a twist on the clichés.

More refreshingly, the show spotlights the people often left on the fringes of war portraits, if included at all. The most obvious example of this is Albert Fallou, a gay black French musician (when was the last time you heard those four words together when describing a TV character?). War correspondents, too, are given their due through Nancy, our psuedo-narrator and historical guide who reminds the viewers of how many journalists on the front lines or the heart of enemy territory continued to witness the war at risk of censorship or a more dangerous punishment. The Tomaszeski family especially ascends to the heroes of the episode from the delightful, but doomed Stefan to his resilient children.

Ultimately, this show provokes its viewers to sympathize with the characters and their situations because of how similar the people are regardless of their unimaginable experiences.

Historical Notes

Nancy Campbell is an amalgamation of multiple historic people. Like Claire Hollingworth, the British journalist for The Daily Telegraph, she discovers German forces amassing along the Polish border (while driving a borrowed car). Hollingworth was also responsible for the first report of the war’s outbreak and, in earlier that year, had arranged for the visas of thousands of refugees. Like William L. Shirer and Howard K. Smith, Nancy broadcasts the early days of the war from Berlin.

Professional and uniformed soldier Stefan waving a make-shift white flag is likely a reference to Dr. Jan Michon, the director of the Polish Post Office central to this episode.

There are fleeting moments with other people who were historically involved in the event, too, such as the ten-year old Erwina Barzychowska who was hiding with her family during the onslaught

and Konrad Guderski, who held off the incoming Germans during the first attack with a grenade.

(However, the show makes a confusing choice of including another character named Konrad who escapes with Grzegorz.)

While the war began officially on September 1st, 1939, the Siege of Warsaw did not become a ground fight until a week later (which is why Warsaw is still in relatively good shape by the end of this episode) Polish soldiers and volunteers managed to defend the city for nearly a month until capitulation. The city was officially occupied starting October 1st until January 1945.

Observations

I love the detail that Harry uses a dishrag to change the lightbulb in the camera.

Dan Jones’s score is fantastic, especially during the train station scene when the whistle of the train and the hiss of the wheels are incorporated into the orchestration.

Sources

Danzig:

http://brushesandbayonets.blogspot.com/2016/09/01ix1939-defence-of-polish-post-office.html

http://www.stampnewsnow.com/PDF_Pages/1-Poland.pdf

Clare Hollingworth:

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-37606306

https://www.bbc.com/news/entertainment-arts-38573643

More on American Reporters:

https://www.loc.gov/exhibits/wcf/

#world on fire #long post #world on fire pbs #masterpiece

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bytheangell · 5 years

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Elle, my sweet angsty summer child

Where Lost Things Go(Read on AO3)

They try their best, but it isn’t enough. There are too many demons, Lilith has too much strength, and Isabelle used too much of the Heavenly Fire in their journey to get to Magnus to have enough left to fight their way out. They have to leave - and Magnus has to stay behind to keep the rift closed.

“We have to go. Now,” Clary says, clearly struggling to hold the portal open for their escape back out of Edom.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” Alec says, giving the others the nod to go through the portal first while he turns back to Magnus. Lorenzo goes first, and then Simon, but Jace and Isabelle linger.

“Alec…” Isabelle says slowly, and Alec gives his siblings a slow, sad smile.

“You couldn’t just leave with the others, could you?” He sighs. “I guess I owe you a proper goodbye, I just- I thought it’d be easier if you found out when there wasn’t anything to be done about it.” There are tears in his eyes as Izzy flings her arms around him.

“I understand,” she says, the words choking in a sob pressed against his shirt. “I love you, Alec. We’ll find a way to get you back. Both of you. We got here once, we can do it again.”

“Are you sure about this?” Jace asks carefully.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” Alec says, turning from Izzy to wrap his arms around Jace. “Clary already put the rune on Magnus, so I’m paired with him instead.” For how long, Alec isn’t certain, but it’s a question that no one dares to bring up at this point.. The moment Jace realizes this was his plan all along and not just an impulsive choice he only nods in understanding. “This isn’t forever, Alec,” he swears.

“Take care of him, will you?” Jace says to Magnus, who wears a look of disbelief as the implications of the scene unfolding around him slowly dawn on him in stunned silence.

“Guys-” Clary says, voice strained. “Soon we’re all going to be staying with Magnus. I can’t hold this anymore.”

“Go,” Alec urges, giving Jace one last clap on the back. “Tell mom and Max I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t goodbye. After all, what was it you said... ‘It’s only Edom’, isn’t that right?” Jace says with a forced smile, and though his words waver with emotion he does his best to hold himself together as he drags Izzy back towards the portal Clary is barely holding open for them. The three of them are gone a moment later and Alec watches the portal close with finality.

He looks at the space it once occupied for a few more seconds before he feels Magnus’ hand on his shoulder.

“Alexander, you should’ve gone with them.” Alec only shakes his head, turning to take Magnus in his arms. “My place is with you no matter where that is, and it always will be.”

---

Learning to control the magic he finds within his veins is easier when it’s Magnus’ magic. It isn’t foreign - it’s the same magic that reached out to him time and time again back home, the same magic that welcomed him as a trusted visitor through any ward Magnus created. It finds an easy, comfortable home within Alec, and reacts in kind.

With time Alec’s stele becomes a decoration - a reminder of the life he left behind and nothing more. He takes it out and holds it from time to time, trying to draw a rune or activate his iratze, but never to any avail. Sometimes he simply holds it just to hold it, thinking of his family, or even Clary and Simon, wondering how they might be doing… praying to an Angel he’s never been more disconnected from that they’re still alive, wherever they are.

Magnus walks in on him one of those days, catching Alec holding his stele with eyes closed against a silent trickle of stray tears.

“Do you regret it,” Magnus asks quietly from the doorway,, unable to meet Alec’s eyes when Alec startles at the sudden sound.

“No,” he says quickly, placing the stele back onto the ledge he picked it up from and walking over to Magnus. “Never. I miss them, of course I do. And I wish there had been another option, one where I could still be with them. Too. But I haven’t once wished I left you here alone.”

“I’ll get us back,” Magnus promises. It’s one that Alec’s heard every day for nearly 200 days now.. He tried to stop keeping track but the numbers stay in the back of his mind no matter how hard he tries to forget about them. After all, they may be days in Edom, but they’re days with Magnus, and he means it when he says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I know you will,” Alec agrees, smiling as he leans in to a kiss that starts slow and reassuring, but quickly grows into something more. Magnus kisses another promise against Alec’s lips, a silent reverence to the man he loves, a reassurance that Magnus may be the King of Edom now but his allegiance is, and always will be, to Alec.

It’s a devotion Alec never doubts.

---

It’s been a year since Alec arrived in Edom. He has a place next to Magnus now. Edom still stands but it’s under the rule of Asmodeus’ son - Alec’s husband. There’s no official ceremony to be had down here but it feels no less meaningful when Magnus declares Alec his husband.

Alec’s presence in Edom is a matter of contention for the first few months he’s there. He can hardly leave the confines of the home Magnus inherited - his home, now - without being attacked. An outsider, an interloper, angelic blood in a place Angels should never dare to tread. Though obviously hunting every demon within the confines of Edom itself would be a fool’s errand, Alec doesn’t hesitate to defend himself no matter how outnumbered.

The first time Alec comes back drenched in sweat and covered in ichor Magnus tries to step in, but Alec insists that he’s fine, that he can take care of himself. Alec plays the refusal off as not wanting his presence here to be a burden, but Magnus soon realizes that Alec needs that danger, the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of doing the thing he spent his entire life training to do. Alec knows Magnus doesn’t like to see him put himself in unnecessary danger but Magnus looks the other way. Any demon foolish enough to attack Alec meets the same bloody death. For a while it’s enough… until it isn’t. They day Alec goes out looking for a fight is the day he ends up outnumber and overpowered; the day Alec nearly doesn’t make it back home is the day Magnus can no longer bring himself to look the other way.

Magnus makes it clear from that point on that Alec isn’t to be touched. Most listen, some do not. After several daring demons make a few last attempts to be the one to take out the Nephilim brazen enough to come to their home - only to fail and suffer a fate by Magnus’ hands that makes even a battle-hardened Alec turn away from the sight of - the direct attempts on Alec’s life cease. Magnus takes things a step further, decreeing that Alec is to be treated as his equal. There are many more rumbles over that development but none dare to question their new King. Or, as it were, Kings.

It’s strange, Alec thinks, to be able to freely wander Edom in any capacity, let alone one where he’s to be obeyed, should it come to that. It never does. Rather than be in a position where they have to listen to a Nephilim the demons decide to avoid Alec at all costs instead which suits him just fine.

They’re making progress. Alec can use his stele again, thanks to some magical tempering on Magnus’ part, a fusion of the pure angelic essence within Alec’s blood with the tool so that it can hold its own against the dampening effect of Edom’s overwhelming demonic energy. They learn to channel the magic that Magnus shares with Alec as one so that rather than weakening the effect when they both call upon it at once it actually strengthens.

They’re making progress, more every day, and while Alec doesn’t lose hope that they can find a way to defeat Lilith for good, seal the rift and find a way back home, he finds that with every passing day by Magnus’ side he feels more content than the one before. Life in Edom is far from ideal, but there’s something to be said about the lack of societal pressures, familial expectations, and the general weight of the world which Alec Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute, live under on a daily basis before.

This existence should be a punishment, a prison, but instead it’s almost freeing. The guilt Alec experiences for even humoring the idea, let alone relishing in his time trapped here with Magnus, shuts him down for days at a time when it hits. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, he won’t even speak to Magnus, and though Alec can see the pain it causes Magnus to give him space that’s exactly what he does. They both pretend not to notice when Magnus comes back smelling like ichor and death on those days or the strangled sobs that come from one - or both - them that get caught echoing down otherwise silent halls.

---

On day 413 (because Alec never can stop counting), Magnus perfects opening portals within Edom. On day 415 Alec watches Magnus deliver Lilith to the same fate he condemned Asmodeus to. On day 417, without Lilith’s magic constantly battling against his own every time Magnus reaches out to connect to the demonic realm around him, he’s able to focus enough power to permanently close the rift, and keep it closed besides the smallest tear for a portal back to New York, which he’ll have just enough energy to seal shut behind them if they move fast enough during the transport.

Alec is surprised at the mixed emotions day 418, what will be his final day in Edom if all goes according to plan, brings him.

“Ready?” Magnus sounds anxious, but there’s a smile on his face as he makes the final preparations.

Alec knows he should nod and agree, but instead the words leaving his mouth are: “Would it really be so bad to just stay here?”

“...why would you say that?” Magnus asks slowly, and Alec surprises himself by speaking exactly what’s on his mind.

“You know how much things changed in the three months after we met.... It’s been over a year. I know the plan was always to get back home, back to our lives, but… what if we don’t have a life to return to?” Alec knows, realistically, he can’t simply waltz back in and take over the Institute again. He’s not positive he’ll even be welcomed back among the Nephilim after the decision he made to stay in Edom. And Jace, Izzy, and the others… what if they never found a way to get them back because they didn’t want to?

Or worse, what if they do want him to step right back into his old life, when he isn’t sure that’s what he wants after so much time away.

“Then we go somewhere new, and do something different. Just because we’re getting out of Edom doesn’t mean we have to stay in New York. If you want to travel the world, say the word and it’s done. It’s going to take some adjustment, but we’ll figure it out together. Edom was never meant to be either of our homes.” Magnus says the last sentence with contempt.

It’s reassuring to hear the option out loud. The option for change, for growth, for something different. His life with Magnus prior to Edom was a whirlwind, and their time here far from ideal for growing a healthy relationship. It’s enough to hear from Magnus that he has no expectations of Alec once they’re back except that they’ll figure things out together.

The promise of facing their uncertain futures together is enough to ease Alec’s nerves as he reaches out to take Magnus’ outstretched hands.

“Alright,” he agrees finally. “Let’s go home.”

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #jace herondale #isabelle lightwood #clary fray #as usual SORRY THIS TOOK A MILLION YEARS #but I hope you like it!#I actually really love how this one turned out #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #skylar102 #ask rune #long post

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uphissleevies · 6 years

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Natsu x Lucy Fanfiction Gems

A continued list of my favorite stories that keep piling up.

Notes:

-More current updated ones are at the top of the list

-Only one story per author

-Sexual content in some stories

-Stories from FF.net are first, followed by the stories from A03

Happy Reading!

-FF.net stories-

Bound in Blood (M) by xambedo

When tragedy unseals a demon beneath the soil of Fairy Hills, Lucy Heartfilia is offered a choice: remain and be buried alive, or bargain to save her classmates. Seven years later, Natsu is here to collect, but he's about to get more than he bargained for. / NaLu / Romance - Supernatural - Humour

Capturing Her Damaged Heart (M) by mushi0131

A deadly disease plagues the world. People are dying, the dead are rising. The infection spreads too fast to stop. Everyone tries their best to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, but things get messy for Natsu when he finds a blonde woman on one of his missions. Natsu takes it upon himself to help her, protect her, and accidentally fall in love with her? Zombie Apocalypse AU.

Til Death Do Us Part (M) by superfreakerz

Immortal/Reincarnation AU. There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, though it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a mischievous boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

Dauntless (M) by HungryPeanut

The Royal Military College was founded a few centuries ago and the traditional laws that were instaured at the time still remained. One of those laws stipulating clearly that only male students were allowed to apply for the formation. But here Lucy was, standing among the other recruits in the ranks, dressed as a man.

Do it for him, Do it for her (T) by schmad20

Lucy goes on with her mission, "without" any one else. She wants to help her client and while doing that she'll prove to others what she's capable of! She's doing it for herself...and for him... While she's off on her mission, Natsu is waiting restlessly at home. Waiting for her to come home. He knows how much this means to her... So he's doing it for her...

Walk through the fire (T) by elssiie

Strategist and priestess Lucy Heartfilia gets caught up in the turmoil of war. Torn between duty and love she must decide whether to follow her heart or mind because the destiny of two nations rests on her shoulders.

Implexium Vitae (M) by notjustanyfangrl

It is said that some people have old souls, reborn every couple centuries to find their loved ones again and continue on their never ending journey. But what happens to these intersecting lives when one is immortal and the other is ripped from them? Vampire AU.

Falling into Home (T) by selenityshiroi

Post-canon. Lucy finds it difficult to let certain horrors from the war go but, fortunately, her team mates are having the same struggle and they can work past it together.

Her Master (M) by Letting go of Fate

Neither of them remembered how it all started. How their innocent friendship twisted into something like this. She loved it. He craved it. He was her Master and she, his pet.

Stars that Bite (T) by MizzyPlatinum

AU in which Lucy feeds off of blood and refuses to drink Natsu's, but what happens when Natsu finds out that he's the only one she refuses to feed from? NaLu. OneShot. Fluff. Blood trigger.

Dark Side of You (M) by Binky1987

Post Manga/Anime, therefore sort of AU. The progress of Lucy and Natsu's relationship, five years after the war. When finally their relationship is becoming defined, the world turns ugly and they have to choose a side. With Lucy's life on the line the choice is clear, the world be damned because you can't take his things and live to tell about it.

One Week of Danger (T) by Cervella

"Okay, Miss Mystic." Lucy stood up and held the magazine which she would flush down the drain later above her head. Plue imitated her totally heroic pose and she was dead serious when she yelled,"In the next week I will prove that your horoscope is completely wrong!"

Desire In Strawberries (M) by shelbyshoe

Natsu and Lucy are swept away by a festival held by their wealthy client, Lady Nakahara. There is more than mystery and the scent of strawberries in the air as they find themselves intimately closer to one another. What they thought was a friendly feast turns into something more as the puzzling night goes on.

Letter’s To Mom (T) by ElementalMiko12

Going back to the place they first met after Lucy reveals an unkept promise she made to her mother; Natsu takes her to keep that promise... In the process Lucy's deceased mother decides to keep a promise of her own she made long ago. (Complete)

The Simplest Gift (A Valentine's Day Special) (T) by ladyoflitany A Valentine's Day one shot, involving Natsu, Lucy unspoken feelings and Valentine's gifts. Throw in a meddling Mira, Natsu misunderstanding the idea of Valentine's and Lucy's missing fan mail and problems and Hilarity ensue...

Brightside (K+) by stopnatsu Natsu loves Lucy. Lucy is on a date. Natsu gets roaring drunk and drama ensues. Oneshot. Angst/fluffy. (May or may not be heavily inspired by Mr. Brightside by The Killers).

The Lacrima Wish (T) by LucyLacrima

In the midst of a battle with Natsu, Lucy stumbles upon a cursed tree and something is released. She is given the opportunity to make one wish, with no limitations, and is given a Lacrima. The Lacrima allows her to see the repercussions of each potential wish. She tests different futures while watching her guild's future unfold.

Thirty Days of Misadventures (T) by MagiLiv Imagine waking one morning in one world, sleeping, then waking in another. Different lives, different scenarios- together, Natsu and Lucy venture through the trials of laughter, anger, sadness and love.

A Big Problem (T) by Jayalek

How is Lucy supposed to live her life normally when an overgrown lizard won't leave her alone? Of all the things to be obsessed with her, it just had to be a dragon who won't give her some peace and quiet. NALU! Dragonized!Natsu

Just Kiss! (T) by WhiteRose123

Even when Lucy is feeling at her worst, Natsu is always there to try to cheer her up. NaLu. Oneshot.

Strawberry Heaven (K+) by PrinceCharmingsPrincess

Oneshot: A NaLu lost moment... Ranges after the Games.

It started with a kiss (M) by Eugenee

Natsu comes home from a mission to find the guild in full swing and in the middle is his worst nightmare... a drunk Lucy.

Priorities (K+) by PEANUT v1.2

"Moving forward is what Fairy Tail mages do, isn't it?" Lucy says to Natsu. Yesterday he would have agreed immediately, but that was before catastrophe struck. How can he move forward after his mistake? Nalu friendship/romance oneshot.

Switched (T) by SyberSweetHeart

Once again the lives of Fairy Tail mages are interrupted- but the problem is Lucy and Natsu have switched bodies! Oh boy, this is bound to cause problems…

Exceedingly Adorable (K+) by Sweet Little Demon

A magical mishap happens in the middle of a battle, leaving Lucy fluffier and more adorable than ever. Humor, Fluff, adorableness, cuddliness, master planning and envy guaranteed.

Are You My Daddy? (T) by BlackLynx17 It was just a normal day at Fairy Tail... that is until a little girl is carried in claiming to be Lucy's daughter. The only thing she remembers about her Father is that he's strong and has a fairy on his body, that narrows it down to every male in Fairy Tail... hold on she said strong, maybe about half the males then. What's Fairy Tail to do now?

-A03 stories-

Flame’s Desire (M) by Rougescribe

As the last of her tribe, Lucy barely escapes the grasp of slavers and falls into the hands of a man as wild as the flames that destroyed her clan. She's been given a second chance with her life, but why does her savior awaken a fire in her blood she's never known before?

Of Dragons and Gods (T) by Gemini888

Lucy Heartfilia: Fairy Tail's resident Celestial Spirit Mage who is currently in love with the Guild's own Fire Dragon Slayer.

Natsu Dragneel: One of Fairy Tail's aces; a powerhouse Mage that is more than conflicted and confused about his feelings for Lucy.

Suberashi: A ancient, powerful, and fabled Guild straight from legends. Only, now, it's no longer fabled, nor does 'just a children's fairy tale' quite fit the reality of their sudden presence.

With Natsu unintentionally hurting Lucy emotionally and with Suberashi's sudden interest in her, will she leave Fairy Tail and accept their offer to give her the powers of a 'God.'

A Fever in the Night (G) by starmini

Coming back from a mission, Lucy collapses in the the middle of a forest with a dangerously high fever. Natsu sends Happy to bring back help, as he desperately tries to keep her alive.

Heaven Sent: A Fairy Tail Fairy Tale (G) by joliemariella

Natsu Dragneel is the infamous 'Dragon Prince' who rules Fiore with the assistance of his carefully chosen council. His life is changed forever, though, when his dear friend Happy, is struck by an incurable disease. Desperate, he turns to the ancient fairy tales that tell of the Celestial Maidens, whose robes hold the power to do anything a determined man might set his mind to...

Starcrossed (G) by wisdomofme

Bonus Prompt 1 of FT Angst Week: Ever After/ Perfect Disaster Once upon a time there lived a star that had seen it all, and boy who could see the stars… Who would’ve thought that their paths would cross?

what’s the big deal? (Explicit) by julamei

Natsu's sexual awakening is... clumsy and awkward, obviously. The poor boy has purposefully remained ignorant of these more mundane, human miracles. that is, until something happens he can't ignore and things between him and Lucy being to grow. Here is my headcannon on their journey around the bases (hopefully this reflects more our own experiences than just our need for fulfillment for these characters).

Hunter (M) by Freyjabee (No longer available?)

Natsu and Lucy follow some dangerous hunters into a city housing sin. While one is desperate to leave, the other can't help but stay.

A Lesson for Natsu (M) by aeotae

Despite the injustice of it all, the men of Fairy Tail endeavor to prepare Natsu for his new manly duty as Lucy's boyfriend.

I have a lot more so let me know if anyone wants more recommendations.

#nalu #nalu fanfiction #fairy tail

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thegreenfairy13 · 5 years

Text

Dog Sitter Part 13 - A Bad Plan

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog Ed, Jim Gordon finds it and does an excellent job when it comes to taking care of the mobster’s furry friend. Read it on Ao3 here.

Thank you @mexican-texican for correcting my numerous mistakes and @butterfliesandresistance for holding my hand every week when I’m freaking out over my writing <3!

Oswald knows Jim will not come running to him, flowers in his hand, breaking down and declaring his undying love.

The Captain isn’t going to simply change sides and play for the dark forces all of a sudden, even if he admittedly has deep feelings for the King of Gotham. Because ultimately, James Gordon still divides the world into light and dark, good and evil.

And Oswald Cobblepot is evil. He himself won’t deny it. After all, he cooked his step-siblings, murdered in cold blood as well as out of rage. He has manipulated and tricked people, and he’ll continue doing so.

In fact, he already does. But this time, Oswald isn’t certain his machinations will work out in his favor. This time, he isn’t playing for money or power. No, he’s trying to win over the Captain’s heart, a heart that is almost lost already.

At first, Oswald hadn’t even noticed how dire the situation was. After kissing Jim and seeing his apartment, the mobster had been certain Harvey was exaggerating. Sure, the man had not been well.

But outright suicidal? Oswald Cobblepot would have died denying Jim Gordon could ever stop fighting for Gotham.

In his eyes, the man only needed a little nudge in the right direction. Just a slight disillusionment, a wake-up call that would make Jim see how the world isn’t only black and white and never truly would be. And how it is, despite everything, still worth fighting for.

He wanted to make him believe that his promise of changing the city had not only been empty words but a vow. He wanted to convince Jim how he could become his moral compass as he could become Jim’s most effective weapon in his war for justice.

His plan had been to show Jim how he had been another man’s moral compass before, how he already improves the city on a daily basis.

His heart had been pure when hatching the plan. Well, as pure as the heart of a murderer could be. Besides, he’s not some deluded serial killer who runs around finding victims for the sake of cutting a throat. Sometimes, needs must. It’s as simple as that.

Of course, his plan had backfired. Or Oswald had simply not thought it through. That becomes horrifyingly obvious when squinting at Jim’s pale, shaking figure beside him.

The Captain of the GCPD is currently driving Oswald Cobblepot and Harvey Bullock through the streets of Gotham. Mouth pressed into a thin line, he keeps glancing at rear mirror.

Bullock squirms uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he asks for the about hundredth time, looking suspiciously at his friend.

Harvey sighs long and deeply. “Told you already buddy, I’m fine. You and your little gangster arrived just in time before I would have had to get some brand-new kneecaps.”

Jim nods tersely. “I’ll drop you off at your place?” he asks.

Reaching over from the backseat, Harvey puts a consoling hand onto Jim’s shoulder. “Are you sure you are alright?” he inquires skeptically.

“Of course, of course,” the Captain replies distractedly.

Bullock still looks quizzically at his friend. “There are no hard feelings?” he wants to know and Jim shakes his head again.

Oswald feels bad for Jim. Gripping his cane tightly, he looks away from the other man’s profile. Not because he wouldn’t still be handsome or desirable, quite the contrary, there isn’t much Oswald wants more than Jim Gordon. Yet he looks so goddamn exhausted, it’s physically painful to watch him even for a moment longer.

And it’s Oswald’s fault.

“And there are really no hard feelings?” Harvey asks again and Jim shakes his head in annoyance.

“Of course not,” he says, mustering a wide smile for his friend.

Finally leaning back, Bullock seems to relax.

“If anything, I haven’t really been a good friend,” Jim carries on. “You should have told me, Harv,” he says, flashing his colleague a severe stare over the mirror.

“Jim, I really had it under control,” the other man defends himself. “Just, this night... it got a bit outta hand.” The cop laughs uneasily. “Could we rather not…” he trails off, nodding towards the kingpin.

Jim’s grip around the steering wheel tightens and he almost lets it slide. “I knew you had a drinking problem,” he says instead. “I knew you went to prostitutes now and then. I knew that’s why you had financial troubles…”

“Honestly, Jim. I’d rather we won’t unpack that in front of him,” the other cop bellows.

“And why the fuck not?” Jim barks back. “He already knows more than me! And I’m your best friend. But you made me just team up with the crime-lord of Gotham to bail you out of a Chinese gambling den ‘cause you managed to lose 50 grand in one night! And I didn’t even know!”

“Because I didn’t want you to!” he hollers back. “Jim, really. You know I’m no saint.”

“How did that work until tonight?” he presses. “Did you run to Oswald whenever anything went wrong?” Gritting his teeth, Jim takes a sharp turn to the right.

“So you’re calling him Oswald now?”

“It’s his goddamn name!”

Closing his eyes, the gangster in question tries to tune out their bickering. Earlier this evening, he had practically forced Gordon on his doorstep. And now he’s paying the price. He should have expected that bringing the Captain low again would do more harm than good.

It had started with Harvey losing some money at a gambling den, which in itself wasn’t unusual. The only unusual thing tonight had been the kingpin’s refusal to pay for his debts immediately. Instead, when Harvey had called, he had told Butch to inform the cop he wouldn’t be available.

Bullock had lost a fairly big amount but nothing the kingpin wouldn’t have been willing to cover in return for valuable intel. But tonight, he had decided he wanted Jim to come to his place, begging for his friend's life.

He had known it was an amount Jim wouldn’t be able to cover, an amount Harvey could not simply borrow from the evidence room. With Bruce Wayne currently gone from Gotham, Jim had practically no other option but turning to Oswald Cobblepot when Harvey ultimately called him for help.

After all, not even hero-cop Jim Gordon can take on two dozen heavily armed gangsters and expect to get his friend out alive. So when Harvey had asked him for help, Jim had no other choice but to cut away another piece of his dignity and go to the Penguin for help.

In his imagination, Oswald had pictured Jim coming to him somewhat romantic. He would have told him about his friend in need and he would have been happy to help, showing him in the process how utterly selfless he could be.

Meanwhile, he could have taught Jim a lesson on people not being simply good or evil. He would have shown the cop how he had improved Harvey’s character. He would have told him about the times the other man used to work for, and with Fish Mooney, and how far he had been willing to go back then and how often he had broken the law in the good old times.

Yet, there had been nothing romantic about the broken man turning up on his doorstep. The old Jim, the man who would bark orders or slam the Penguin against walls had been wiped out, replaced by a hollow ghost.

He hadn’t even denied what had happened the last time they met. “I know what it looks like,” Jim had started before explaining to Oswald everything he already knew. “I know it must seem to you I’m….”

“Whoring yourself out?” Zsasz had supplied unhelpfully from the door.

Oswald had practically jumped at hearing his subordinate’s voice. He hadn’t even noticed the assassin eavesdropping. The King of Gotham had hardly ever been more enraged. If not for Jim, he would have strangled the other man with his bare hands. Instead, he smiled tightly and merely gestured for Victor to leave immediately. There would be consequences, though.

“Exactly that,” Jim had confirmed, looking Oswald straight in the eye. Outwardly, he seemed completely calm. The mobster hadn’t missed how his mouth twitched nervously.

“My dear, old friend,” he exclaimed consolingly. “I would never think anything this abhorrent about you.”

“You rather should,” he replied while Oswald opened his safe, gathering the needed money.

The entire time, Jim had been silent, meek. At this point, hearing him scream in the car is almost consoling. At least it shows there’s still some life left in the Captain. Oswald had forced Jim to debase himself again instead of making the intended progress.

It seems like everything Oswald loves burns to ashes. So far, he has at least managed to keep his son safe from his poisonous touch.

It had been Martin, his sweet, clever son, who had opened his eyes. Sadly, he hadn’t been able to see anything.

Three days ago, his boy had told him that he had found a new friend. Martin had been nervous about it, fearing his dad, his co-conspirator, would not understand. But Oswald had been thrilled and overjoyed that his son had finally found a kid of his own age to share his interests with.

Knowing all too well what loneliness and poverty feel like, Oswald only ever wanted for his child to be happy. Martin deserves everything he wants - including, of course, mutuals.

Martin’s new friend’s name is Henry. His son had invited this kid to sleep at the Van Dahl mansion because he wanted to show him the new puppy and play video-games all night. The mobster had been nervous about having another child at his home but he had agreed.

And then his boy had told him his friend’s parents were moving into a new home. Henry was annoyed by his mom cleaning their old flat vigorously.

Obviously, if you plan on leaving a place forever, you should always leave it behind in a pristine state.

At that moment, he finally understood what Jim cleaning his own apartment meticulously indeed meant.

Oswald originally thought it had been a sign of Harvey exaggerating and Jim still having his life under control. He had started to doubt that when Martin told him about his new friend. And now he knows Bullock had been right all along, Jim simply keeps his apartment clean for his colleagues who will inevitably have to clean up after him once he’s gone for good.

Harvey must know it’s the worst possible moment for Jim to find out about his friend’s personal troubles, too. His mental health had been spiraling south in the last couple of weeks. The Penguin hadn’t noticed and Bullock had been unable to do anything about it.

Coming back from his musings, the mobster tries to be nonchalant about it. “Honestly, Jim. It’s not such a big deal. We all got to keep our teeth. Especially Harvey,” he jokes lamely while pondering if putting his hand on the Captain’s arm would be a good idea.

Jim stares at him with a blank expression. “Yeah, we’re a great team,” he drawls sarcastically. “The two dirty cops and the gangster who always helps them out.”

For a moment, Oswald dares to hope the man has finally come around.

“I’m really just another crooked cop,” he huffs instead and the mobster's shoulders slump.

“Jim,” he starts gently. “We have done that before. Playing a bit beside the rules for the greater good.” The other man doesn’t reply.

Harvey looks worried when they finally stop at his place. It’s a small consolidation for the Penguin to know that the cop doesn’t suspect him any longer in being the reason for Jim’s latest foray into depression-wonderland.

“Whatever this is,” Bullock hisses into the mobster’s ear when exiting the car, “You should talk him out of it.”

The Penguin wants to laugh. Harvey and Jim have been friends for years and now he’s the one that has to mend this? He nods instead and waits for the other cop to drive him back home.

Jim runs a hand through his hair and starts the engine. It dawns on Oswald how they are alone again in a little cocoon and he can’t help but enjoy the feeling. It’s just so safe in the limited space of a car, there’s simply nowhere to run and no possibility of hiding.

“Your recent behavior is starting to become worrisome,” the gangster commences with a little sideways glance.

Jim ignores him. “You’ll get the money back,” he says instead.

Oswald merely rolls his eyes. Frankly, he couldn’t care less. It’s not really a sum worth mentioning to him anyway. Besides, it’s a hollow promise and Jim surely knows it.

“Are you hungry?” he wants to know after a moment, startling the crime-lord. “They opened a small Hungarian restaurant not far from my place. They make this… “ He sighs. “I really can’t pronounce it. It’s some kind of pancake stuffed with meat. Tastes good,” he adds with a lopsided smile.

Oswald gapes at the man sitting beside him. This was the last thing the Penguin expected out of him. Somehow, Jim seems to be on a mission to put him through the wringer.

“Are you asking me out?” he demands to know, a shy, hopeful smile playing around his lips.

“I suppose,” Jim shrugs. “I guess I owe you an apology.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Or two. And maybe an explanation. Well, the same goes for Harvey, probably.”

Oswald is too shocked to answer right away.

“So?” Jim presses, glancing at him uncertainly.

“I guess I could spare some time,” he answers haughtily, mentally kicking himself on how that came out. The cop doesn’t seem to mind though, already turning the car instead.

The place is indeed small. Only five tables, dimly lit and almost empty. The Penguin doubts the food will be edible but if James Gordon is finally willing to talk about his odd behavior and their frankly awkward relationship, he’s willing to wolf down some cardboard.

He knows the dish Jim had been talking about, Hortobágyi palacsinta, and taking in the state of the place, he already fears for his taste buds. The cop on the other hand finally seems to relax when ordering their dishes directly from their cook.

The man looks like the embodiment of a bad cliché. He’s hunched over, slightly overweight and wearing a jacket decorated with various sauce-stains. Oswald fears for his health, too, but when Jim smiles encouragingly, he takes his first bite with death-defying courage.

It’s, in fact, edible. Not nearly as good as his mother would have made it but the way Jim looks at him almost makes up for it. He should probably be mad at the other man. After their last encounter, he hasn’t heard a single word from him. And now they are on a date after Jim almost having a mental breakdown over Harvey.

Oswald snorts. Jim obviously has a thing for the crazy ones. Not that he’d describe himself as mentally stable either, but Jim is currently another level off the rocker.

“You wanted to tell me something?” he says warmly after taking his first bite. Meanwhile, his friend is pushing his own food around on his plate, staring helplessly at the chunks of meat and pancake.

“I did.” He pauses to chew and Oswald wonders when was the last time Jim had eaten anything other than frozen pizza or hot dogs. Probably when he had been looking after Ed.

“I found Brian Gold’s murderer,” he starts slowly. “He tried to rip off his cartel and paid the price. I arrested the thug who pulled the trigger. From there on it’s a dead end.”

Oswald nods. That’s at least some good news but definitely not why they are both here. Jim plays with his glass of water while studying the Penguin sadly.

“Did you ever feel like an entire failure?” he asks rhetorically and the mobster leans slightly forward. He could probably tell him about the time he was released from Arkham, his mother gone forever and his mind in tatters. Yet a single word would stop whatever Jim is about to tell him.

“When coming to Gotham, I wanted to be nothing more than an honest cop. I wanted to follow the law and the rules. Instead, I bent them a little, then broke them completely. And I picked and chose the rules I wanted to obey, for the love of the greater good. ‘Cause I thought if I break my own rules only once, or if I go just a little bit further, it wouldn’t hurt.” The cop squirms in his seat before looking the other man in the eye.

“Well, the city is stable,” Oswald remarks lightly him but Jim merely shakes his head.

“No thanks to me or the GCPD,” he huffs. “This city is ruled by gangsters and psychopaths. That’s exactly the reason the Court of Owls decided to destroy it entirely. I sometimes wonder if they should have simply done it. A fresh start from scratch. Of course, that’s mass murder and insane. But I don’t think…” His voice trails off and Oswald remains silent. For once, he’s completely calm in the other man’s company. If he truly wants Jim, this is his time to listen. Holding his breath, Oswald gestures for him to continue.

“I don’t think anything in Gotham truly makes a difference. You are Falcone’s heir and nobody can tell who will follow you. Did I ever tell you it was Sofia who brought Pyg to Gotham? It was her plan so she could destabilize your system of crime licenses.”

Putting his own fork down, he nods. He had known all of that before. After Sofia getting shot and falling into a coma, he made it his personal mission to find everything out about his opponent and her machinations. Jim would have never agreed to the alliance if he’d even assumed the woman would go as far as murdering his colleagues. He would’ve never expected Jim to admit it, though.

“I didn’t know at the time,” Jim carries on. “But I failed to do the right thing when I finally found out. Should have stepped down and face my trial.” He shrugs. “I’ve been a coward. As always.” Smiling awkwardly, he waits for the Penguin to confirm that last statement. Oswald would never do that.

“Let you rot in Arkham for a murder I committed and walked away when you needed my help,” he finishes, taking a sip from his water with trembling hands.

“You have been right all along, Oswald,” he whispers. “I turned reckless and irresponsible. I’m not a man who should take care of this city. Last time, you offered to change this city for me, but I’m too far gone to differ good from bad anymore. I became part of this city’s problem, not the solution. I’ve finally come to acknowledge that.”

He takes in a deep breath while Oswald slowly tries to recover. He would not have thought it possible for Jim to possess such a level of self-awareness. But here they are at least. His hero admits his sins and it’s probably the most sincere apology he’s ever gotten.

“You tried to do the right thing, though,” he declares in response. “That is more than any other man in Gotham ever did. And you did make a difference,” he sighs. “Whenever required, Harvey does the right thing, thanks to you. A bit of gambling or drinking doesn’t change that,” he consoles, but Jim isn’t having it.

“You offered me to work together with you,” he points out. “I teamed up with Sofia before and it destroyed her. Aren’t you afraid? You saw what happened to Lee, too. For some reason, you seem to have put me on a pedestal but the man you probably see in me, the man you met all those years ago behind Mooney’s club, has long ceased to exist.”

His hands are still shaking when picking up his fork again. Oswald doesn’t know what to say. No, he’s not afraid. In fact, he hasn’t been this fearless in such a long time. Yes, the cop is still fighting, it’s not easy on him, but finally, he’s opening his eyes to the truth.

He chose to love Jim a long time ago and nothing he’s done so far has managed to change that. Should he simply tell him that it doesn’t matter to him? That he wants this tainted version of James Gordon anyway? Jim could make him better and he would probably end up dragging him further down. They would be trapped in an endless, vicious circle, probably destroying each other like nothing else ever could.

Or Jim could finally start believing in them. Closing his eyes, the Penguin tries thinking of a solution. Of course, the stubborn bastard would make something as simple as finally admitting his feelings and what they both could be able to do this complicated.

“Is that the reason why you want to kill yourself?” he asks curiously, because finally, he has Jim were he wants him to be. At last, he’s being honest with himself. It makes the Penguin feel giddy, his plan worked after all. Not the way he intended, but well enough.

Jim snorts in response. “I’m a coward. Did you already forget that? I simply want to stop existing. Poof,” he says, opening his right hand as if showing him a magic trick. “I wish someone would finally wipe me off the board and I’d get spared the pain of waking up in the morning ever again,” he mumbles, averting the gangster’s eyes.

Leaning over the table, Oswald extends his hand and laces his fingers with Jim’s. The cop presses back, closing the circuit. His skin is warm, smooth. The Penguin wants to tell him how being alive is a gift. He had almost died before and if he knows one thing, it’s how death can never be desirable. Jim must know it too, somewhere deep down.

“I’m simply angry. Angry at myself how I ruined my life so much,” he admits after a long moment. “And I don’t understand…”

Before Jim can finish the sentence, Oswald squeezes his hand tightly. “I simply think we’ll have to put everything back into perspective for you,” he suggests affectionately.

“How?” Jim demands to know desperately.

Pressing a kiss to Jim’s forehead, the gangster shrugs. “I don’t know yet. Small steps, I suppose.”

He keeps smiling encouragingly despite the cop’s dubious frown. “Come on,” he tells him, slightly pulling on his hand. “Date night isn’t over yet.”

To his delight, Jim gets up and follows him without resistance.

#gobblepot #fanfiction

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readerwinterbarnes · 6 years

Text

Gentle Touch: Pt. 8

Progress

Bucky x OFC (Jules Carlson), Steve/Tony, Avengers

Summary: Bucky takes time to clear his thoughts, thinking over everything Jules has told him.

Word Count: 3,221

Warnings: Rape/NON-con, no POV, hurt Bucky, more feels

A/N: I know I’ve been absent for much longer than I had wanted, a lot has happened. I finally graduated from college! So that’s fun, I’m also in the process of figuring out how to make print copies and copyright my artwork - which I’m excited for. Work has taken up a lot of my time, gotta pay them bills and then dad had double hernia surgery and now mom has to have surgery in February. I could go on, but that’s not the point, I just want you to know that I’m trying to put myself back together and not worry about the little things that I didn’t need to worry about in the first place.

Anywho, enough of that, on towards this series! I finally remade my notes for the next few parts and there will be more angst, feels and fluff I promise! And for his friendship with Steve, don’t worry it gets better. :) Sorry if I abandoned all of you for a bit, please let me know what you think!

You can also find this on A03! (WinterReadingerDixon67)

Bucky woke up in a heavy daze, limbs felt like lead as his whole body refused to move. His body was telling him to get up, saying he needed to go hide and get to safety. But his mind was telling him the opposite. Move, and they notice you, get noticed, and they’ll punish you. So he refused to move, not even a single muscle. Using his other senses to inform him as to where he was, what dangers laid ahead, and what he could possibly use to defend himself. Bucky didn’t get very far when he felt a hand squeeze his and a soothing voice reaching his ears.

“There are two doors, left leading out into the hallway, towards multiple exits, one into the bathroom connected to your closet. There are eight huge windows on the 50th floor, scaling is a possibility. Vents are in every room with easy access and multiple exits and hiding spots as well. It’s currently 7:15am, a nice sixty-five degrees outside, slight chance of rain and you’re on your floor in Tony Stark’s tower in New York.

“I am your conscious who was given a human physical form with the help of JARVIS, Tony, and Bruce. If there is anything that you require of me, please let me know.” Jules giggled when Bucky’s face went from happy to annoyed, to confused as he glanced over to Jules. Where he instantly relaxed, letting the tension in his shoulders die down as he breathed.

Jules quietly counted out their breathing routine a few times to settle him further. Knowing that it was a stupid thing to ask, she had to anyways. “Bucky, I know this is going to sound stupid, but I have to ask anyway so I can keep Doctor Cho and Bruce updated as well. Do you understand?” Getting a nod in confirmation she asked, “How are you feeling? Both mentally and physically? And please be honest with me.”

He looked at her with hesitant scared eyes, he knew he could trust her, but that same nagging voice told him that he can’t trust anyone but himself. “I’m...ok? Not entirely, like I’m lost, unsure...questioning.”

“How so?”

“Wondering where my best friend went. Why he feels the need to control me and wants to know everything that goes on in my life.” He curled in on himself, tucking his hands under his chin, like a child hiding themselves from the nightmares.

“Why did that happen to me, Jules? Why can’t I have my life back? Be my own person?” The room fell silent, only the sound of quiet sobbing remained. Jules looked at the man before her, strong and physically healthy; curled up like a frightened child. So lost that they believed all was lost and all love for them gone from this world. A man who had no more confidence in himself and his abilities. Her heart broke in understanding, seeing her own life flashing before her eyes, Jules wiped away his tears gently with the pad of her thumb speaking softly to him the whole time.

“Remember what we talked about, Bucky?”

“...That they no longer control me.”

“And…?”

“And that…, t-that I control my own life and make my own decisions.”

“Exactly! You are your own person and are taking charge of your life, getting the help you need, taking care of yourself and showing those fuckers that they no longer own you.” A flicker of hope flew across his eyes as she spoke, “We make our own destiny, our own paths and when life gets us down in the dumps, we pull ourselves back up. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because of this,” Jules placed her hand over his heart, “despite all that’s happened, you still love yourself. Slowly letting people back in, willing to get help. But also this,” she then tapped his temples before running her fingers through his hair, “you’re not giving up. You’re fighting those inner battles and winning. Yes, some days you fall down when it gets tough, but what do you do?”

“I pick myself up and keep on fighting.”

“Damn right you do. You face them head on and stare them in the face and show them why they no longer have a hold on you. That you are much stronger than them, that all their hard work was pointless because they already lost.” Bucky was full on smiling, face wet with tears of joy as he felt like he would be able to make it through another day. He knew this feeling wasn’t going to last, but he knew it didn’t mean that it would be gone forever. For this time he was even more determined to fight back even harder for what he always wanted; his life back.

Faces full of smiles and untroubled tears, Jules helped Bucky off the couch and onto his shaky legs so he could take a shower while she ordered them breakfast. For he needed to get his strength back and pay Bruce and Helen a visit to determine their next step. Then while he went on his required recreation time, she would pay Tony a visit and see where they were headed on his new arm.

-- -- -- --

Bucky was sitting on an exam table twitching nervously as Helen and Bruce discussed their observations and notes with each other on how exactly they should proceed. Jules noticed his behavior and kept an eye on him while she listened to the doctor's discussion.

“I can’t find anything wrong with him physically, although it wouldn’t hurt for him to practice a different form of activity, like; yoga, swimming, etc. Something physical that assists him with working his muscles without too much strain.

Bruce nodded in agreement, “I agree, we wouldn’t want him to overexert himself. Plus, he could do these in a calm safe environment. No stressors.”

Jules put in her two cents, “I can set up a time when he can do this. I’ll discuss it with him after.”

The doctors nodded, “Good, how’s he doing concerning touch?”

Jules sighed heavily, “Still a work in progress, though I fear Steve’s ‘interaction’ may have set us back some. I’m afraid I was too harsh on him.”

“Does Bucky know what you said?” She shook her head at Bruce.

“Not yet, I was going to ask him today. Though I’d prefer not to, not wanting to make him feel worse, but that’s not my decision to make. I’ll leave that up to him to decide.”

“Sounds good to me, all I suggest for now is make sure he has his recreation and physical time every day. Not to mention to keep eating three meals a day, even if it’s multiple small meals a day, we can’t have him neglect his health. I won’t even tell you what to do, you’re doing just fine.”

Jules patted Helen on her shoulder, nodding at Bruce, “I’ll go inform him of what we discussed and we’ll get out of your hair.”

Bucky pretended to fiddle with the plastic straw in his cup to make it look like he wasn’t listening, however, Jules seemed to know he was anyway. “I know I don’t need to tell you what we discussed considering you already know.”

He shrugged innocently, “Oops?”

“Uh huh,” she stared at him through squinted eyes, “alright come on you, let’s go the room that’ll be yours to use. You can choose the reserved time, it’ll be the same for every day; to help you get into a routine.” They went up a few floors until they stopped a floor under Tony’s. Jules stepped out of the elevator, while Bucky stood frozen in place.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked nervously, feeling as if he was trespassing onto private property, that Tony would be furious of him invading his space.

“To be on this floor?” He nods, “I made sure to discuss this with Tony first Bucky, he’s actually the one who recommended that you use this floor for your own use. Hence the reason to schedule a time when you use this space, so he knows when not to disturb you.” When Bucky tried to dismiss the whole thing, she placed her hands on his shaking ones.

“Bucky look at me,” when he did she continued, “he cares for your well-being and knows that this will help you out tremendously. In fact, he said it helped him out quite a lot too.”

“S-so, it’s...it’s okay for me t-to use everything here?” Jules' heart constricted on how he was still so unsure to accept things only to have them biting him back later.

“It is absolutely okay for you to use anything in here, Bucky. In fact, I highly encourage you to. Not only would it give you more free time to yourself, but it would help keep you healthy.”

After taking a good look around the place, He decided that it wasn’t a terrible place, but in fact, safe, inviting and comfortable. The floor had a huge swimming pool, a hot tub connected to the side, sauna room, and a yoga corner looking out large bay windows towards the city skyline.

“Okay, I’ll...I’ll give it a go.” Jules clapped her hands in excitement.

“Great! We’ll just have you tell JARVIS what time you want and this place will be yours during that time every day.” For the first time in a while - besides this morning - Bucky had a genuine contented smile on his face. Which in turn made Jules smile along with him.

-- -- -- --

Tony’s Lab

Jules glanced at the schematics hovering on the floating screens, trying to understand what she was looking at exactly.

“Okay, so...I know I’m looking at a new arm plan for Bucky, but what am I really looking at.”

Like a boy at Christmas, Tony gestured towards the screens.

“Alright, so not only did the arm get the whole ‘Tony Stark Upgrade’, I made it so it’s more lightweight. So it won’t feel like a shit ton of bricks weighing him down when he walks, fights, and all that. Also, under this plate is a panic button of sorts. If he’s in trouble, needs backup, or simply a lift home, all he needs to do is just tap the plate twice and it sends us a signal. Now, if he wants to activate the tracking feature, he only needs to tap the plate once.

“Oh-oh-oh! That’s not even the cool part! I built in low emp devices in his arm as well, so if he ever needed a quick getaway, he just takes out one of these babies tosses it at said target and boom. Their technology is fried. There’s also a few explosives and shocker ones as well. Everything is lightweight and silent so it doesn’t jostle when he runs.” The genius’ eyes shown with absolute pride and excitement at his creation, Jules was, to say the least; surprised.

“Wow...I, I don’t know what to say, Tony. This is...this is so amazing. I mean, just wow…” She took in the rest of the schematics, taking in all the detail. Amazing as it was, there was still one thing she was concerned about.

“How...how will we connect this to his body? I mean, what’s the process?” This time, however, Tony frowned slightly. His eyebrows scrunched together with trepidation.

“All skills set aside, there are plenty of ways it could go wrong. We’re reattaching a limb to his body, everything has to fit perfectly or his nerves could be severely damaged or worse, it could cause his body to go into shock. I’m not saying I’m not confident in my skills or Bruce’s, hell not even Helen’s, but when we do this, we’ll need the whole day to do this. One tiny distraction could screw everything up.”

Jules never quite understood the risks, but she was glad she asked. But she wasn’t worried, for she strongly believed in their abilities and trusted him to make the best calls.

“Understandable, so when can we tell him?”

“He could come in tomorrow so I can run one last body scan, check all our calculations, then talk about when the best time would be to attach it.”

“Ah, I’m so excited!” Jules burst out excitedly. “Sorry, I’m just really happy for him.”

“Hey no problem Doc, he deserves it.”

“That he does Tony, that he does.”

-- -- -- --

Jules Office

Bucky sat in Jules’ office nibbling on a carrot as he waited for Jules to join him. Nat had made him a bowl full of veggies to snack on and he valued his life so he didn’t refuse her. Jules informed him she was running a little late and that he could head on in. It gave him time to really take in her office, there were picture frames on every shelf and a few on her desk. Each had her laughing or hugging another friend; most of them had the same girl in them. They must be close if she’s in basically all of them.

“Her name is Kathy, she’s my best friend. I actually introduced her to her now husband, Hank, they’re expecting their first baby.” Bucky whirled around to see Jules standing in the doorway holding a mug of tea and a bowl of fruit - no doubt Natasha made it for her.

“How’d the two of you meet?” The smile on Jules face dimed slightly, setting down her things she stood beside him looking at the picture of her and Kathy.

“This was taken four years later after she cut off all ties with me…”

“What happened? If-if you don’t mind me asking.” He didn’t mean to pry, but curiosity got the best of him.

“I don’t mind,” she smiled at him kindly, turning back to look at the picture. “The life of a corner girl happened,” she crossed her arms in a way to protect herself, “she got mixed in with the wrong guy, fell in too deep which ended up with her almost losing her life. I-I called the cops, tried to get her help, but she just thought I betrayed her so I could have Mr. Richie Rich to myself. Wouldn’t let me visit her in the hospital, left town the day she was released and I never heard or saw her again.

“That was until I opened the door to see her standing on my doorstep four years later, looking happy, healthy, and a ring on her finger.” Jules laughed wetly.

“We went out for coffee and I found out that it took her a year to actually get the right help. A year later, she landed a great job as a secretary, met a wonderful guy, two years later they got engaged and the year after that I was walking down the aisle as her Maid-Of-Honor.” She gestured towards the photo of her smiling at the camera along with the newly wedded couple.

“It’s actually kinda funny, well not really funny, but amazing. She’s a counselor at a high school and is a very dedicated volunteer at several charities to help people on the corners get the help and education they need. So they don’t have to sell themselves to earn money to eat or a place to stay, and that’s how she met Hank. He’s a professor at a local college nearby, who also volunteers at charities, ones that Kathy’s a part of. He was trying to get his sister off the street and into a program that can help her get clean from the drugs she was hooked on.

Took a while, but she’s now getting her masters in biology, is dating a nice guy, especially after Hank gave him the big brother talk. He’s helping her out and she’s looking forward to having a niece or nephew soon. Kathy’s definitely excited, hell, I’m even excited to see the little squirt.”

Bucky watched Jules as she talked about her best friend and the way her face relaxed.

“She’s lucky to have a friend like you, to help her even if she didn’t want it. Reminds me of Steve…” his face fell slightly, wondering if his friendship with Steve would ever be fixed.

“Hey,” Jules held his cheek softly, “he’ll come around eventually. Once he gets it through that his thick skull of his anyway, but give him time just like he’s doing for you.”

He sighed, hating the inevitable of what might happen, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Could I be alone for the rest of the day? Clear my head?”

She smiled softly at him, “Bucky you don’t need to ask my permission, you deserve to have time for yourself. Just don’t fall off the face of the planet, okay? Don’t want my favorite old man gone, who else am I gonna talk to?”

He playfully punched her shoulder, laughing lightly. “Don’t worry, this ol’man ain’t going anywhere. But yes I’ll let you know I’m alive before I take out my dentures.” She shoved him toward the door.

“Okay you goof, go do whatever you’re gonna do,” she did hold up her pinky though and smiled widely when he linked his with hers, “I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

“I know.”

------

He lost track of how many laps he made around the Tony’s swimming pool, but he didn’t care because it let his body go on automatic while he sorted through his thoughts. Which was a lot, for when he eventually pulled himself out of the water, it was dark outside.

“JARVIS, what time is it?”

“It is 11:30pm Mr. Barnes.” He’s been swimming for the past six hours, but he felt lighter, mind clearer and less muddled. Deciding it was time to head back to his room, he dried himself off as JARVIS brought him back to his floor - wanting a floor separate from Steve’s - changing into the softest sweatpants and hoodie he had. Grabbing his journal, a pillow, and thick comforter and made himself comfortable on the couch.

He enjoyed the routine Jules suggested to him, it gave him something to do and a task to focus on so he wouldn’t be left alone with the thoughts that fed his nightmares. Opening his journal to a fresh page he began to write, ‘Today was a crappy day, but I’m still alive I guess. Jules tells me that I’m getting better at making my own choices and I think I believe her. I feel better, like I’m starting to get control of my life again...that, that I’m human.

She also told me about her conversation with Steve, I just...I really don’t want to lose him. He was my first friend. We fought together...never thought that this would ever happen. I hope that it won’t stay like this, I miss that punk.

I went swimming today, longer than I thought too, but it gave me a chance to think and sort through my thoughts. I felt...calm. I could feel as if the water was washing everything away, it probably sounds really corny, but I felt lighter. Maybe I am getting better, maybe Jules is right when she said that I am in control of my own mind and body.

It’s like they say, take it one step at a time.’

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wiener-soldiers · 6 years

Text

hallelujah (part ii) - steve trevor

summary: After being a recent thief-turned-spy, you find yourself working side by side with a certain American air force captain. However, the workplace romance trope was getting really old, but it was hard not to fall far your spy partner, Steve Trevor.

words: 2,155 (i didn’t intend for it to be this long)

warnings: more angsty than i originally intended mY BAD

taglist: @sebastianstanfoundmymixtape @httpmcrvel @lionheo04 @stupendoussciencenaturepanda

a/n: so i was originally going to discontinue this series but ive been getting a lot of positive support for it and i found the inspo to write this again!

Your faith was strong, you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof,

the beauty and the moonlight over-through ya.

She tied you to your kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair.

And from your lips, she drew a Hallelujah.

As the months progressed, you and Steve got closer. As promised, he gave your family security and your brother Jack was attending fifth grade at a private school in London. You saw your family often, given your job. Whenever you had a spare moment, you traveled as fast as you could to your home, often offering to bring Steve along with you and drop him off wherever his family lived before you took the taxi home.

“You need to see family too, Steve,” you would always tell him when he refused. The both of you were standing in the lobby of the office that you and Steve used as a base of sorts.

“Nah, I don’t have any family in the city. My folks still live in the US, and my fiancée lives in Paris.”

“Fiancée?” you ask, confused. Steve never talked about being in a relationship, or engaged for that matter. As the two of you continued to work together, gathering intel and infiltrating secret meetings of the Germans, you had began harboring a (not so) small crush on the blond haired-blue eyed man. You admired his dedication for his work and his country, but also his compassion. Really, it was hard not to fall for him. So your heart wavered slightly when you asked him about his ‘fiancée’.

“Her name is Sarah. I--uh, don’t talk about her often. She used to live in London, but moved to Paris for her modeling career,” he responds shyly, casting his gaze downwards as his cheeks begin to heat up.

“Oh,” was your only reply.

“I just don’t want her getting caught up in this whole ‘spy’ business, you know? She know I’m in the army, but she thinks I’m just stationed in London, not a spy,” he explains once he realizes your lack of responses. “If she found out that I shake hands with Germans and steal their information, she’d flip and basically put me on house arrest,” he jokes, trying to resolve the awkward air.

But you can’t find it in yourself to laugh, “I see.”

You and Steve stare at each other uncomfortably for a few seconds before he clears his throat, “So I’ll see you back in a few days? I heard you were taking a few days off for your mother’s birthday.”

“Actually,” Etta calls from behind Steve (you swear that woman can teleport), “the two of you just got orders to go undercover at a weapons dealer’s party. They suspect he is selling experimental weapons to the Germans. The party starts at seven at a high end hotel downtown.”

You audibly sigh, “So much for my vacation.”

Etta gives you a sympathetic look, “Sorry, darling.”

“It’s alright Etta, there’s nothing we can do about it now. Send us the details of the party and our covers and alibis,” you tell her before walking away, the heel of your boots clicking on the floor.

“Where are you going?” Steve calls after you.

“You think I’m going to a party dressed like this? Pick me up at my apartment at seven, Trevor. Don’t be late,” you call as you turn around and walk backwards to look at him while adding, “And be sure to wear a red bow-tie or a pocket square of something. I want us to match.”

Sure, you had a crush on your partner. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t get the job done in style.

You and Steve walk hand in up the stairs to the hotel the party was located at. The weapons dealer had put out that the party was a “party to celebrate the successes of science,” but in reality it was a cover up for the dealing of weapons.

Your mission was to gather as much intelligence about the new weapons and positively identify the weapons dealer, the German buyer, and any other potential buyer.

Tonight, you and Steve were not Y/N Y/L/N and Steve Trevor, you were Mrs. and Dr. Barrow, and potential buyers of these weapons.You had flown in from France a few nights before and were currently looking for new weapons to buy as representatives of a French private security company. Your deep red night gown sashayed as you walked up the steps leading to the grand entrance of the hotel, arms linked with Steve. As you neared the entrance, you said a small greeting to the young man at the door before you fixed your audacious curls. Steve began to step inside before you stopped him mid-step and pulled him back through the open door, bringing him to the side.

“What?” he asks, glancing around the entrance and fixing his fake glasses.

Your reached forward and straightened his matching deep red pocket square, “We have to make this look believable, Dr. Steve Barrow. Nothing screams ‘married couple’ like a wife straightening her husband’s pocket square. And you should’ve went with the bow tie,” you note after you glance down at Steve’s bare collar, the top two buttons undone.

“I thought it looked tacky.”

“Fair point. Bow ties are more of a mathematician thing.”

The two of gave each other one more comforting glance, getting lost in each other’s eyes before Steve clears his throat, offering you his arm to link.

“Alors ma cher, vient avec moi s’il vous plaît. On a une grande challenge pour complètera,” he smiles softly at you, reverting to his French accent as part of your cover story. You had always wondered where he learned such believable French, but you now figured it was because he spent so much time with his soon to be wife in Paris.

“D’accord, Monsieur Barrow. Allons y,” you reply, your red-stained lips mirroring the smirk on his, though yours had more weight behind them. Despite your crush on the handsome man, you couldn’t help but feel like you were betraying his fiancée, despite never meeting her, by pretending to play Steve’s wife. However your feelings needed to be pushed aside as you had a job to do, so the two of you trek into the luxurious hotel and the recon mission began.

The party dragged on for another hour or so and you and Steve were busy as ever collecting intel from unsuspecting party-goers and using sly movements to figure out if the person was friend or foe.

Around eleven when most people were inebriated, the party shifted to the roof of the hotel, where a bar had been set up and the soft jazz played from the live band cut through the cool night air.

You were clutched on to Steve’s arm as he strolled around the rooftop, trying to shield yourself from the cool London breeze. Goosebumps run up your arms as you let out a shiver. Maybe such a revealing dress was not the wisest choice on a cool evening. However your shiver did not go unnoticed by Steve.

“Est-ce que tu es froide, ma belle?”

“No,” you replied, almost too quickly. Steve stopped in front of the roof ledge to look at you, eyebrows raised. You succumbed to his confrontation, “Alright! Maybe a little...”

He chuckles before sliding the blazer off his shoulders and placing it onto yours. Though it may be caused by the ridiculous amounts of champagne or the cool night breeze, but you were certain the pink blush that started up your neck was caused by Steve’s chivalrous gesture.

“Thanks,” you whisper before turning to look out at the skyline. Most of the city was asleep, but the usual car did roll by or the sound of laughter in the distance made the city seem lively.

“It’s sort of beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask out loud, not really expecting an answer from the man next to you.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” he hums softly. With your gaze locked on the city below, you didn’t notice Steve’s gaze locked on you. The wind blew your hair sideways, making some of your curls dance above your face. The moonlight reflected a soft glow onto your skin, as your eyes reflected the yellow street lights down below. Steve could’ve sworn that he could stare at you forever as you bathed in the moonlight, with his jacket loosely hanging off your shoulders. How he wishes that the jacket around your shoulders was him, pulling you close and resting his chin on the top of your head.

A loud high pitched fit of female laughter broke Steve’s trance, turning to look for the source. What he saw made him freeze in his tracks.

Your fucking kidding me, was his only thought.

There she was. The tall, green-eyed blonde, with short tight curls, blood-red lips, and a tight, revealing black dress with a slit so high it left very little to the imagination. She was pressed up against a man, her leg seductively crossed in between his, one hand curled on his chest with the other holding a glass of champagne. The man had one hand wrapped around her waist, the other nursing a cigar in between his fingers.

Steve’s blood boiled. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man leaned in, whispering something in the woman’s ear to which she responded by pressing a hard kiss to the side of his mouth, leaving a lipstick stain behind.

Steve felt betrayed and broken. The woman he thought he loved, who he proposed to, was kissing another man.

“Patricia?” he utters quietly in disbelief.

“Who?” you ask, turning to him. You notice his rigid stance and his pale face, “Steve, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

He nods towards the man and the woman snuggled up together across the roof, expression absolutely livid, “That’s...my fiancée, that’s Patricia. She said she was in Paris and she would visit next week--”

“Steve...”

“I don’t understand, why is she here? How did she get here?”

“Steve.”

“Oh my god, does she know I’m a spy? Is she here to blow my cover?!”

“Steven!” you snap at him. He whips his head towards yours, fury ridden all over his face.

“What?!”

“The man she’s with...that’s the man we positively ID-ed as the German buyer of the weapons,” you answer bleakly, gulping as you continue. “She’s affiliated with the Germans, Steve.”

“No...” he whispers in disbelief. You look up in his blue eyes, which are threatening to fill with tears.

You gently tug his arm, “Come on. Let’s go to my place. We have enough intel for one night.”

Steve is silent the entire way back to your apartment, tears softly falling on his cheeks.

It’s about one in the morning when you come back into the living room of your apartment. The minute you unlocked the front door, Steve walked in a robot-like trance to the couch in the middle of your living room. He just sat there, crying and contemplating while you placed his blazer that was still on your shoulder on the arm of the couch before you prepared yourself for bed.

Your feet padded on the cold floors as you made your way back to where Steve was sitting. In silence, you sit down beside him and stare ahead.

You sit like that for another ten minutes or so before Steve is the first to break the silence, “I didn’t know.”

You inhale, “No one could have.”

“I could have,” he insists in a monotone voice, “This is entire time I dedicated my life and my love to a woman who is sleeping with a German.”

“You and I both know that we can’t know for sure.”

He scoffs, “I know her. She always had a plan. I was her plan. She knows I’m in the military and she knows I can get her what she wants. She just needed to know where those damn Germans are.”

You open your mouth to interrupt but he continues, “And the worst part is, I don’t even know when she started seeing him. Before we started dating, or during our relationship?” When you shoot him a sympathetic look, he adds, “I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

You softly place a hand on his knee, letting him know that he is not alone. He quickly takes hold of your hand and laces his fingers with yours.

“Steve,” you start, “you can’t beat yourself up over this. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have.”

“I thought I really loved her, Y/N. We were supposed to be married, and have children, and grow old together.”

You didn’t know what to say. So you stayed silent. The only comfort you could offer him was your presence, so you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and he turned into your chest and cried.

#i am so sorry about all the pain i put my bb steve through #he!! deserves!! more!!#steve trevor #steve trevor imagine #steve trevor x reader #chris pine #chris pine imagine #chris pine x reader #wonder woman #gal gadot #dc #eliza speaks #wiener soldiers #wiener soldiers imagine

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