#like the field trip to see we suffer kicks it up a little but the broadcast is still SUCH an intensifier | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

Nie Huaisang is the cutest thing monsters have ever seen, they can be yao dragons or giant turtles one look at nhs and they want to feed hug or kidnapt him nmj trainning involved recovering his baby brother from every monsters nest around qinge

ao3

“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue said, his teeth gritted together and his arms shaking from the strain of holding Baxia up. “He’s mine.”

The massive tiger glared down at him over Baxia’s blade, currently stuck in its teeth, and growled something.

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said. His legs were shaking now, too. “I know, trust me, I know! I’m human, he’s – young, yes, yes, I know. But he’s my little brother! I’m not giving him up!”

The tiger spat out the blade, knocking Nie Mingjue backwards on his ass.

“And when you change your mind?” the tiger demanded. “Will you abandon him then?”

“No!” Nie Mingjue exclaimed. “Never! He’s my brother!”

“Mark your words,” the tiger said ominously. “Or else.”

It turned and stalked off, its tail waving arrogantly in the air, until its towering white form disappeared into the distance.

Nie Mingjue sighed in relief. “Huaisang?” he called, and a small head popped out of the nest the tiger had started building, blinking owlishly at him. “Come on, come to da-ge. It’s time to go home.”

“But Master Tiger said we were going to play…”

“Yes, well, he wanted to play for too long,” Nie Mingjue said. “Only a few centuries, give or take. Let’s go.”

It started back when Nie Huaisang was born.

No, more accurately, it started when Nie Mingjue’s father fell in love with someone he probably oughtn’t have, which according to the sect was not a terribly uncommon problem for him to have, and decided to bring home a bride.

Nie Mingjue could still remember the first time he’d seen the Second Madame Nie. They’d all been lined up to greet her, all the sect and close members of the clan in rows according to rank, Nie Mingjue fidgeting in the inside of the house proper in his first tangle with formal clothing outside of the discussion conferences. She had come sweeping in with her head held as high as a princess, seductive and bewitching.

Every movement had been perfect, the eyes of all the men fogging over in lust and the women in admiration – or visa versa, depending on their personal preferences – and a wicked smile had lit up her face when she had stepped across the threshold, officially becoming the sect leader’s wife, and maybe everything would have gone along with whatever plan she’d had back then if she hadn’t next seen him.

“Oh, look at you,” she exclaimed, rushing over to pinch Nie Mingjue’s cheeks between her hands. “What a delectable little morsel you are!”

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said, staring up at her with big round somewhat-worried eyes.

“You charming little dumpling,” she said. “You adorable mouthful of meat! Spoonful of egg yolk!”

Nie Mingjue cast his eyes around to see if anyone would be willing to help him.

“My eldest son,” Nie Mingjue’s father said, not without pride – albeit perhaps a puzzled sort of pride. “He’s probably just about old enough to come to the forecourt, if you don’t want him to live with you –”

“Oh no,” she said. “He’s definitely living with me.”

And so she stayed, and Nie Mingjue stayed with her, and she doted on him in a way he found pleasant if mildly disconcerting. Within a year, she was pregnant, and irritated with it; six months after that, she was round and complaining, even though Nie Mingjue solemnly assured her that she was as beautiful as ever.

“This is your fault, you know,” she told him, and he blinked at her. “It is! Don’t get me wrong, your father’s a charming bull when he wants to be, and of course he fucks like a champion stud, but I stayed here for you, my little cabbage roll, my charming chunk of liver.”

She patted her belly.

“That means this here is all because of you. So you’d better take responsibility!”

Nie Mingjue considered the issue for a little. The argument seemed plausible, so he raised his hands and put them on her rounded stomach. “I will take care and watch over him for all my life,” he vowed, and the baby inside kicked his hand in response, sealing the pact.

“Oh you are so cute,” she said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “My darling pork bun! My little fish cake! I could eat you right up, if only you were just a little bit older!”

When Nie Huaisang was born, she disappeared in a welter of blood, but Nie Mingjue’s oath remained.

The trouble started after that.

“You can’t raise a cub like that properly,” the winged lion argued, bating its wings as if that would help it make its point better.

Nie Mingjue glared at him. “Watch me!”

“It’s for your own good, little human. He needs his own kind –”

“I’m not listening to a treasure-seeker!”

The lion scowled at him. “I’ll have you know that most humans think I’m good luck!”

“You’re not trying to steal most humans’ little brothers, are you?!”

The winged lion sighed, a deep sound, so very noble and long-suffering that Nie Mingjue couldn’t resist the urge to lift his foot and kick the lion right in the paw.

“Brat!”

“Don’t care!” he shouted. “You leave my brother alone! He’s my responsibility, not yours! Piss off!”

“You can’t even feed him properly -”

“I’ll figure it out!” Nie Mingjue bared his teeth and wished he was old enough for a saber.

“You little…fine. Fine! I’ll bring you a book on how to feed a huli jing kit, and you keep to it, you hear me?”

“I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “But don’t you even think of taking him away!”

“On your own head be it,” the winged lion grumbled. “Not everyone’s as understanding as me.”

“Why are you wet?” Nie Mingjue’s father asked him.

“Water monkeys,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “There was a nest.”

“Water monkeys? Don’t they normally stay away from people…? Or, I suppose, were these ones feral?”

“Thieves.”

“Ah. Well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose…bad luck for you to run into them here, of all places. But good experience! How many people your age can say that they fought water monkeys?”

“Can we go home?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little plaintively, and rubbed his nose. “How much can you really have to say to the Jiang sect, anyway?”

His father chuckled. “More than either of us would like, unfortunately. But if you’ve had enough of water, which no one can blame you for, maybe you and Huaisang can go shopping in the pier instead?”

That would work, Nie Mingjue thought, and nodded happily.

(Sect Leader Jiang was extremely embarrassed about the ghostly rats in the night-market – he claimed they’d never seen neither nose nor tail of them before the Nie brothers had accidentally tripped over their trap and had to flee from the swarm...)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nie-er-gongzi,” the white-clad cultivator from the mountain said, smiling broadly and saluting deeply.

Xiao Xingchen had made himself famous during his first half-dozen night-hunts alone for his extraordinary grace, bearing and strength, and he said he was on a mission to help the world. He was beautiful, virtuous, and matched each ideal of gentlemanly arts.

Sects throughout the cultivation world were drooling at the thought of enticing him to join them, fighting for the opportunity to put in a good word with him.

Not all sects.

Nie Mingjue stepped forward, purposely putting Nie Huaisang behind him.

“Don’t you even think about it,” he said, hand on the hilt of his saber. “Buzz off, birdbrain.”

Xiao Xingchen might wear white, but Nie Mingjue knew a zhuque chick when he saw one.

“I found something for my aviary, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang, seven years old and delighted with his clumsy autonomy, announced.

Nie Mingjue, less than a full year into his new role as sect leader, rubbed his eyes. “Oh?” he asked, only somewhat wanting to scream endlessly into the void, which was better than usual. “That’s nice, Huaisang…”

“Come look! It’s so pretty!”

“I’m a bit busy –”

“But da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue sighed and got up, following Nie Huaisang to the door only to come to a complete stop.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said to the fenghuang currently pretending to be a rooster in a cage, as if anyone would actually mistake phoenix flames for regular feathers. “Do you have no dignity left?!”

“You can’t adopt the bashe,” Nie Mingjue said to Nie Huaisang, who pouted. “It eats elephants; we’d be broke within three months.”

He turned to the giant python.

“You can’t adopt Huaisang,” he said. “I will literally murder you.”

“Why can’t I go watch the eclipse?” Nie Huaisang complained. “Everyone else is going!”

“I’m not risking a tiangou.”

“The…dog that eats the sun? Really, da-ge, is that even real?”

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, “you’re grounded just for saying that.”

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“Maybe I want to go and live among the qilin!” Nie Huaisang screamed, fourteen and hormonal about it.

“Well you don’t get a choice!” Nie Mingjue bellowed back.

“You’re not my father! I don’t have to listen to what you say!”

“I’m your fucking sect leader and yes you do!”

“I hate you!”

“I don’t care if you hate me! You still aren’t going to go live in a field with some magic pointy deer and that’s final!”

The qilin herd wisely chose to withdraw.

“Da-ge,” Jin Guangyao hissed, and Nie Mingjue looked up from his work at him – he hadn’t heard Meng Yao this upset since he’d shoved him into a closet to get him out of way during the whole dangkang boar hunt debacle. “Da-ge, there’s a dragon outside.”

“Again?” Nie Mingjue said, standing up to stretch and feeling oddly unbalanced. They’d just finished another session with the song of Clarity, so he really shouldn’t be feeling like this; he would need to write to Lan Xichen again about his fears that the treatment really wasn’t working. Lan Xichen would probably only say to give it more time, another chance, but still… “Let me go talk to them. Dragons are the worst.”

“No, da-ge, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said. “It’s not a water-serpent or – or even a jiaolong – it’s a dragon.”

“A flood-dragon is a type of dragon,” Nie Mingjue said, following Jin Guangyao outside. “You know that, it’s in the name, what’s the big – oh, I see. It’s a celestial dragon.”

Jin Guangyao glared at him with an expression suggesting that he was under-reacting, but Nie Mingjue really didn’t have the capacity in him to reach with appropriate fervor at the moment. He and Nie Huaisang had been fighting a lot recently, every little thing escalating into a giant argument, and he was no longer sure if he was doing the right thing in trying to force Nie Huaisang onto the path of his ancestors. After all, unlike Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang had – somewhat different ancestors, on his maternal side.

And, he supposed, Nie Huaisang was old enough to decide otherwise, if he truly wished…

Still, Nie Mingjue was as stubborn as a mule and had no intention of giving up his baby brother without a fight, so he braced himself and went over to the frankly massive creature draped over the entrance gateway and much of the training yard that the entirety of the Nie sect was doing its utmost best to pretend that they weren’t seeing.

Nie Huaisang was sitting on the thing’s five claws – an imperial celestial dragon, apparently – because of course he was.

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue called up to the dragon, which turned its head to regard him, an entire production that took nearly a quarter ké to accomplish. “The brat there is mine, please return him.”

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao hissed again, but Nie Mingjue waved him away.

“You have raised him well,” the dragon said, which was…a good deal nicer than most of these interactions usually went.

“…thanks?” Nie Mingjue said suspiciously, ignoring Jin Guangyao’s splutters of “It talks?!” “I think?”

“I have chosen to grant you a boon,” the dragon announced.

“…right,” Nie Mingjue said. “If this ‘boon’ is that you’ll take him off my hands, I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse. He may be trouble, but he’s still my brother.”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, indignant. “Don’t be rude. I asked him for this!”

Nie Mingjue frowned at him, unable to resist the feeling of hurt even though he’d already told himself to expect something like this. “…you want to leave?”

“No, da-ge, don’t be ridiculous. I asked him to improve your health!”

Ah.

“Huaisang –” he started to say.

“Don’t you ‘Huaisang’ me!” his little brother shouted. “I know you’re trying to hide it, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it? San-ge told me so! He said I should get ready!”

Nie Mingjue made a mental note to strangle Jin Guangyao, who had no right to say something like that to Nie Huaisang even if maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world to emotionally prepare Nie Huaisang for the upcoming bereavement and inheritance he would need to face.

“Anyway, he said to get ready, so I did!”

“You can’t just ask a divine dragon to fix me, Huaisang. That’s not how this works.”

“Uh, it totally does, and I did, and he agreed. So there!”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms and glared. “And what did he want in return?”

“The boon is a reward for your past merit, not a trade for the deeds of the future,” the dragon said, not even slightly hiding how its whiskers were shaking with suppressed laughter. “You have travelled a difficult road, and borne the weight of it well. And besides…”

“Besides?”

“If you were to die, he would undoubtedly petition the creatures of the underworld to return you.”

“Well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, having not considered that. “Fine. Whatever. Heal me and I’ll try to keep an eye on my health going forward.”

Maybe more Clarity? He could try to free up his schedule, get in a few more sessions…

“I just give up,” Jin Guangyao said behind him. “I just fucking give up.”

Nie Mingjue, assuming that he was talking about Nie Huaisang’s nonsense, agreed whole-heartedly.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #nie huaisang's mom #my fic #my fics #child development #same headcanons as three times the charm #Anonymous

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

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If you are doing them the soulmate fic starter 3 or 9 for rexwalker? I love all your star wars stuff so much

soulmate au prompts

3. the one where you and your soulmate have matching marks on your bodies. 9. the one where your soulmate’s last words to you are written on your body.

Featuring marginally-less-terrible Jango with more excuses than usual.

------

The Kaminoans hate soul marks.

Rex knows this from the day he knows to ask. The Nulls and Alphas don’t have any soul marks, just scars where there was once a promise. The eldest clones have records, at least, where the scientists had taken photos before beginning th surgeries, but the marks themselves are long gone.

Prime had found out about the removals and thrown a fit, raging so intensely that Nala Se had ended up intubated from the damage he’d dealt, and she hadn’t been the only one. Rex isn’t old enough to remember that, but Cody is, and he whispers the story in the dead of night more than once. Nobody likes Prime very much, except Boba, but that’s one of the few instances they can point to and say ‘he cares more than he likes to admit.’

It’s anathema on Mandalore, one brother claims, a light in his eyes that Rex hasn’t ever seen before. That’s what I heard him telling one of the aruetti trainers.

So is refusing your children so much as a name, another grouses, and the conversation dies an ugly little death. So is letting your children die just because you don’t think they’re good enough. So is turning your back from even letting them be part of your house, let alone part of your clan. Sounds like he cares more about our soul marks than he does for our lives.

Rex doesn’t know how to address that. He does get a personal visit from Prime, one day, gets asked to show his little marking to the man that is, in some ways, his father.

“Another one,” Jango Fett mutters to the trainer that came with him, the woman holding a datapad and ready to record whatever it is that they’re looking for. He passes a thumb over the marking, frowning. “A lightsaber, lit white, with pale blue halo, between a set of symbolic Jaig eyes. The eyes are dark blue, slightly desaturated. I think they’re meant to frame it like an exaggerated beskad crossguard.”

“Sir?” Rex asks.

“That makes six,” Jango says, still so quiet, and then shakes his head. “Thank you for showing me, 7567.”

“Rex,” he corrects, before he can second-guess himself. “I’m Rex.”

“Thank you, Rex.”

------

The rumors say that anyone with a lightsaber soul mark is going to have a jedi for a soulmate.

Rex isn’t sure how true that is, but he’s eager to find out.

Prime gets more erratic, more unpleasant at times and almost awkwardly nice at others. Rex meets the others who got Jedi soul marks. He’s the youngest, so far.

Jango tells them all to hide the markings, and to keep them secret. They’d already all known that much, that only batchmates should be told about soul marks. All the adults that should know already do, after all.

“Where’s your dad going?” Rex asks once, when Boba’s been handed over to Cody’s squad for looking after while Prime goes haring off on some trip that nobody gets to know about. Rex hangs out with Cody’s squad more than his own batch, it feels like, but that’s a whole thing that he’s not supposed to talk about since the late transfer to command track.

“Dunno,” Boba says, kicking his feet back and forth. “My soul mark came in. Something about it made him really angry, I think.”

Rex doesn’t ask to see it.

It’s not his place.

------

The Alpha batch is getting quieter, angrier, and end up in hushed conversations with Prime and some of the trainers so often that the rumors start up harder than before. Rex keeps his head down, because the Kaminoans get antsier when Jango does. Soul marks come up more often, and Rex gets called in to talk to the Alpha clones about his mark. He’s not supposed to, but Prime says it’s important, and Prime is in charge.

“Oh, is that all it took?” one of the Alphas sneers, and Prime shoots them a look that has Rex taking a few hasty steps back. The Alpha clone isn’t even fully grown yet, by natborn standards, but they don’t back down. “What, ready to stop being a dar’buir--”

“That’s enough,” Prime says, low and hard, and the Alpha clone rolls their eyes. “There’s a child here.”

“So now you care about that?”

Rex is escorted back to his rooms.

------

Decommissioning finally stops, for all that it requires Jango almost decapitating a Kaminoan, and someone Rex hopes he never sees again shows up.

(His memory is blurred. He’s sure the man was human, and tall. Elderly enough to have white hair, probably? A... there was fabric that swished when he turned, something dramatic, but...)

(He is not the only one that cannot remember.)

It takes years for anything else to come of it all... at least where the clones can see.

------

Rex is fully grown, as far as clones go. His aging is supposed to slow down to ‘natborn normal’ now, because he’s reached his full height and most of his brainpower, and he’s officially old enough to fight on the field if the war starts tomorrow.

It might.

“Hey, look up.”

Rex listens, and looks, and sees a natborn with Nala Se, pale skinned and with reddish hair, soaked to the bone. They wear robes, brown and heavy-looking. Even as he watches, another natborn jogs up from behind, also sodden and pale, but with darker hair that sticks up despite the water. A third joins them, a tad slower and more controlled; this one wears all white, and they--maybe she?-- are slight and small and poised in a way that Rex thinks might be how a natborn leader carries themselves, if they aren’t a soldier.

They pass on through the walkway, showing emotions that the Kaminoans can’t read and the clones absolutely can. None of it is... good.

“Shit,” someone mutters. “That was a Jedi.”

“Venn--”

“What if they don’t want us?”

------

Rex is called to Prime’s rooms.

He tries not to look at the wide eyes of the brothers he’s been gossiping with, just stands and pulls on his full kit. He hesitates at his bucket, but then pops it on and marches to what might be his doom. It’s probably not.

He hopes it’s not.

He knocks, and is let in by Boba, and sits down on the couch when Prime tells him to. He removes his helmet when asked. Boba hops up onto the couch between Rex and his father, and leans in against Rex’s side.

There’s a list on the table, one he recognizes, quickly writing out all the paired elements on the Jedi-Clone soul marks. Nobody who isn’t already involved in the project would know it. He spots the ‘yellow tickets’ that Bly got tattooed on his face recently, the ones he won’t claim are or aren’t related to his mark. He spots his own listing of Jaig eyes.

“Prime?”

His... progenitor, maybe, in this situation, looks at him, and holds up a hand. “You saw the list. You can guess why Rex is here.”

Oh. Prime’s using his name without prompting. That’s nice.

“I can’t read it,” the younger Jedi says, with something that might be a pout. Rex wants to roll his eyes, but his helmet is on the table. People would see.

“It’s in Mando’a,” the elder tells him, voice low, and then glances between Rex and the younger Jedi. “Fett, how did you know which one to call? I can guess some things, but--”

“I have a good eye. The hilts are all different. Only one matches.”

“I see.”

Rex fidgets, and tries not to wonder at... at... oh. The younger Jedi’s lightsaber hilt does match Rex’s soul mark.

Boba notices when Rex starts picking at his glove, pressing a finger right to the mark on his wrist, and frowns up at him. He grabs Rex’s hand to still it, and tries to ask a question with his eyebrows. He is mostly unsuccessful.

“Anakin,” the elder Jedi says. Rex still doesn’t know his name. “Your hand, please?”

“Why?”

“...you’ll understand in a minute,” the Jedi says, long-suffering in the way of the trainers who dealt with the youngest cadets. “Your hand. No, the other one.”

“Why do you need my hand?”

“Reasons, Anakin. You there, ah... Rex, was it?”

“Yessir.”

The Jedi flinches. “Right. I suppose I’ll have to get used to that... right, Rex, can you come here? I imagine you know what it is that I’m looking to compare.”

Rex has been taught to listen to Jedi, but he has no idea who he’s supposed to listen to here. The older Jedi is probably in charge, but Rex hasn’t been assigned to anyone yet, so isn’t Prime still technically the closest thing he has to a CO?

He glances at Prime, who just gestures for Rex to go ahead with it.

Rex pulls off a glove, pulls back his sleeve, and bares the symbol on his wrist for inspection.

The younger Jedi’s face morphs from confused irritation to surprise, and then... something Rex doesn’t want to analyze too closely. He’s not sure if it’s wonder or horror. He wasn’t aware the expressions could look so similar.

The Jedi--Anakin--pulls back his own sleeve, moves his wrist to Rex’s and watches as the marks glow faintly from the proximity.

“Looks like Fett was right,” the elder Jedi mutters. He doesn’t sound happy. He looks at the other natborn, the one Rex is pretty sure is a woman, and raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, eyes closed.

“You said there were others?” the elder Jedi prompts, and Prime nods. “We are no more open about our marks than most, but I can spot one, maybe two, that I can guess at. I’d need to see the actual markings to confirm, of course, and I imagine that wouldn’t be something anyone would be happy with.”

“The rest can happen naturally,” Prime dismisses. “This was just proof.”

“Not just proof, I hope,” the Jedi mutters. “I’m.. I have to call the Council.”

Rex sees the panic in Anakin’s face, and is seized by the urge to do something, anything, to fix it.

“Obi-Wan, you can’t let them--”

“Nobody’s going to separate you,” the elder Jedi says. Obi-Wan, apparently. “And there’s no ‘let,’ Anakin, they outrank me. Significantly. Right now, I’m concerned about the implications of this war, of multiple of these cloned soldiers that have been indoctrinated to fight for and serve the Jedi having soulmates among us, especially given that I have no idea how recently our wartime protocols on such things were updated. There is an entire army that is supposedly in our name, ordered by a man ten years dead.”

“Count Dooku is involved,” Prime says, dark and satisfied and petty. “Calling himself Darth Tyrannus. The Kaminoans mostly believe he is an isolated and reclusive Jedi Master that serves as their contact when Sifo-Dyas is unavailable.”

The Jedi named Obi-Wan closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and then stands. “Right. That’s... well, alright, I absolutely have to call the Council now.”

Prime smiles, pulling Boba into his side. Rex finds himself tugged down to sit where Obi-Wan had been a few moments earlier.

“Why are you telling us all this?” the natborn woman says. “This Count sounds like he hired you, did he not?”

“The project predated his involvement, but yes, he’s my supervisor, so to speak.” Prime smiles that same dark smile, runs a hand over Boba’s head and pointedly doesn’t look at Obi-Wan. That smile is... unpleasant. Rex doesn’t want to look at it, and so he looks down to the faint glow at his wrist instead. “Did you know, they told me the clones would be sub-sentient and halfway to droids? Not really people? That my DNA was for the bodies, but the minds would be little more than lines of code? Do you know how much they hated that I saw the evidence of their lies written into my children’s skin?”

Rex jolts, head whipping about and hand pulling away from his soulmate, staring at Prime, his mouth agape in a way a soldier’s shouldn’t but--but he’s--

Rex has never, ever heard the Prime refer to any of them except Boba as his child. His copies, his echoes, his clones, but not his children.

A hand curls into his, and he looks down to find Anakin’s lacing their fingers together. He looks up into a hopeful, unsure smile.

Anakin tilts his head and leans in, lips to Rex’s ear, and says, “When I told Obi-Wan he was like a father to me, he didn’t even know how to respond. Just made a bad joke about it and then pretended it didn’t happen. Is this the same?”

“...close enough,” Rex breathes out, because now isn’t the time to explain just how different a clone’s existence is from what they’ve seen in the holos meant to prepare them for interacting with civilians. That ‘family’ here has always been brothers, your squad and any brother that chooses to take you on, or a brother you choose to nurture, that the Alphas raise them more than Prime or the trainers do, that the older squads are who they turn to because the adults won’t help, that they don’t have parents, and they are discouraged from thinking of children in their futures.

(Protecting intellectual property, one of the scientists had mused. They’d made it very, very difficult for any of the clones to impregnate a partner. Not impossible, because to make it impossible was itself impossible, but... nearly so.)

“There’s millions of us,” Rex says instead. “He doesn’t... he doesn’t usually acknowledge most of us as his.”

Anakin’s face twists, already angry, and the glare he aims at Prime is ghastly. Rex might already be a little in love, just for that. The way Anakin’s fingers squeeze around his is nice, too.

Prime does not notice.

“Can I see the contract you say you signed?” the natborn woman says, and Prime eyes her. He nods, at length, weighing her worth and finding she measures up to whatever it is that he’s decided is necessary.

“Boba, go pack like we’re going on a hunt,” Prime says, pulling out a personal datapad and only dropping his gaze to find the right file. “We’ll probably be leaving tonight.”

“Okay, buir,” Boba says, sliding off the couch. “Am I telling the Alphas the thing you said?”

“No, I’ll handle that myself. You just pack.” He stands, nods to the natborn woman, and moves around the table. “Senator, I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind. I imagine you and Knight Kenobi are the best suited to get this problem fixed.”

“And me?” Anakin demands.

“You,” Prime says, with a just a hint of condescending drawl. “have just met your soulmate. I assumed you’d want some privacy to get to know each other.”

Anakin flushes, a little angry and a lot embarrassed. It’s frighteningly cute. “I--I mean--I don’t--”

“The clones are mentally the ages they look, but do remember they’ve had practically no time to gain any sort of experience,” Prime says, already ignoring them in favor of pointing something out on the datapad to the senator. “Take advantage of any of my kids, and I’ll be the one hunting you down. I’m told I’m rather good at it.”

Anakin’s face does some acrobatics. Rex would pay more attention, but he can feel himself turning just as red.

“Rex, you know where the private meeting room is,” Prime says, and waves a hand in the direction of the tiny, tiny office that’s by the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Be nice,” the Senator hisses, smacking Prime’s arm.

“He’s ten.”

“...still.”

Rex just stands and pulls Anakin away to the little room before things can get worse.

They’re delayed when Obi-Wan asks what they’re doing from the kitchen he’s been using to get a spot of privacy, but then Anakin says “we’re just going to talk, Master,” and they get an aggrieved sigh and a response of “the clothes stay on, padawan, and you’ll need to finish up whatever conversation you have soon, there’s work to do and being a padawan only excuses you from so much.”

Rex backs into the meeting room, yanks Anakin in, and then decides to throw caution to the wind and just press their lips together.

Oh.

Okay.

He’s kissing back.

Lack of caution: good.

The mark at his wrist thrums, warm and comfortable, and Rex pulls away. He stifles the noise he wants to make, and when Anakin whines, small and soft but clearly disappointed, Rex offers him a small grin he knows would get him called ‘shy’ by his asshole older brothers.

“We probably should actually get to know each other,” Rex says. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“I... yeah, I don’t know yours either, unless it’s Fett.”

“It’s not. I don’t have one.”

Anakin’s face does another one of those ‘I’m angry for you’ twists that Rex is quickly coming to recognize, and then he sighs and falls into one of the chairs. “Okay. So. I don’t know much about the soldier life. Tell me about it.”

And he does.

#Rexwalker #Anakin Skywalker #Captain Rex #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #Padme Amidala #Soulmate AU #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Memes #star wars

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kiwixlime · 3 years ago

Text

Finders Keepers - Chapter Twenty-Six

Warnings: More drama! I’m sorry, but it has to happen! These next few chapters are gonna be rocky. But just hang on!

A/N: As always, thank you so much for reading! Also, if you have any AU ideas you would like to see for future fics, let me know! I’m planning out new stories! I have something of a prison fic that I’m outlining, and one based on the first game, and one that’s kind of like Grand Theft Auto - everyone’s a criminal. But I’m open to more ideas!

It’s time for group patrol, which isn’t Bay’s favorite activity, but it’s important for newer arrivals to go on larger trips with some of the experienced residents, residents like Bay. And like Joel, who is not a big fan of the larger patrols either. Luckily for him, he’s paired with Bay and Tommy this time, a setup the younger Miller put together at the last minute. Bay’s aware of the arrangement, annoyed at the games, but she bites her tongue and keeps to herself.

Joel admittedly spends most of his time keeping an eye on Bay instead of helping the newbies navigate the trails. He doesn’t lose focus, but his attention is elsewhere for a better part of the trip. He just wants to make sure she’s okay. They haven’t spoken since his return last night and the silence has been killing him. He’s trying not to push her. He said he would give her space and he intends to.

But being near her is hard when she won’t even look his way. He thought that Tommy putting them all on the same patrol would help, but she’s too smart for their traps. She focuses on taking out infected and instructing the younger ones on how to be stealthy to limit combat and preserve ammo.

She walks ahead of the pack with Tommy while Joel trails behind, covering their backs. From the corner of her eye, she can see Tommy staring at her and she wishes he would just say it already, whatever is on his mind, even if it’s about Joel. She hates people staring at her and she hates the looks of pity on their faces. Or in Tommy’s case, frustration.

“Out with it,” Bay says quietly as she and Tommy march on, side by side. They’re far enough away from the group behind them so no one can eavesdrop on their conversation. Not like they’d care, the new people aren’t interested in gossip. “Whatever you have to say, just say it already.”

“How long are you gonna punish Joel?” He blurts out, his tone dripping with disappointment. He tries not to come off harsh, but he has a protective little brother instinct. “Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

“Punish? Suffer?” Bay scoffs in disbelief. “We’ve literally had one discussion about it. I’m not punishing anybody. I told Joel I need to be alone. It’s not really any of your business, Tommy.” She tells him, outraged by his nonsense.

“He’s my brother,” Tommy defends. “And you didn’t just say you needed alone time. You said you didn’t trust him and then you kicked him out of your house.”

“Whatever,” Bay says, rolling her eyes and slowing her steps, falling behind Tommy’s pace. She’s in no mood for this discussion right now. It’s only been one night. How can anyone expect her to move on so quickly?

“We should split up,” Tommy grumbles, ignoring her, as they approach an overlook. Just ahead of them sits a large, grassy field with a few different checkpoints and easy places to hide for an ambush. “A lot of ground to cover here. Bay can take the east side, Joel take the west. I’ll take north. Meet back here when it’s all clear.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Bay mocks and motions for three individuals to follow her. Immediately, three younger men, probably in their 20s, eagerly run to her side, no hesitation. It’s something she should have seen coming, but didn’t. Joel scoffs at the pack, incredibly offended by the disrespect of it all. He watches as they stand by her like obedient dogs and his stomach goes sour.

Look at them - young, new, can probably offer more to her than he can.

Feeling Joel’s burning gaze, Bay glances towards him for the first time since the day started and hope swells up within him. She can see the worry on his face and yes, she’s still angry, but she doesn’t want to leave him in misery for the rest of patrol. So she throws him a bone, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head, letting him know these guys don’t stand a chance with her.

It’s a small notion, barely anything, and yet it puts Joel’s mind at ease. He nods and turns to Tommy, feeling a sliver of relief. It’s enough to get him through the rest of the day. And Bay knows that.

She can’t stop the muscles in her face, twitching upwards, smiling slightly at the way his posture perks up. One good feeling, that’s enough. Tearing her eyes away from Joel, she finally acknowledges the group she’s been paired with. That smile turns into a frown real quick as she studies the boys before her. “Ugh,” she mumbles and spins on her heels, making her way towards the eastern checkpoint.

The boys follow, whispering to each other behind her. Bay tries to pay them no mind, ignoring the hushed chuckles as she instead points out what not to do if you encounter large hordes of infected. She easily drowns out their chatter and snickers until one of them grows a pair and speaks louder than the others. Then she can’t avoid it any longer. Unfortunately.

“Bay, hey,” the guy says, jogging up to her, subtle encouragements from his friends linger in the air. “I’m Trevor,” he says, holding his hand out as if she’ll shake it. She doesn’t, only offers a look of displeasure.

“Okay?” She responds, not wanting to give him anymore of her attention. She’s dealt with kids like these before. Ones who are in their late teens or early twenties and dare to think of her as approachable. Idiots, all of them.

“Just wanted to say I’m really glad I have the chance to learn from you today. I’ve heard stories around town. You’re incredible,” he flirts, very openly, in fact. The boys behind him chuckle like they’re back in high school - the worst kind of boys - and she has to take deep breaths to calm herself. It only helps a little.

But boys are dumb. Even at the end of the world. Groaning, Bay stops in her tracks, the boys mimicking her sudden movements. She sighs and clasps her hands together, trying to be polite, though it’s consuming all of her energy.

“I don’t know what you heard or what you’re hoping to gain from this little outing, but I’m in a serious relationship. A committed relationship,” she enunciates. “I don’t have time for boys acting like fools, joking around and potentially putting myself and others in danger because they’d rather fuck around like a bunch of teenagers instead of doing their jobs. You are here to learn. And if you want to work with me, that’s the only thing you will be doing. Do you understand?” She threatens. “I am off limits! Grow up!”

The boys stand back, stunned by the ferocity of her outburst, if you could call it that. Trevor wasn’t expecting something so serious to come from her and the other two were just as shaken. By the looks on their faces, they got the memo. Feeling proud, Bay holds her head high and continues the trek to the east lookout. Silence follows. Perfect.

Back on the main trail, Tommy and Joel shuffle uphill towards their respective outposts, not much of a stretch left for them. Joel can feel the tension radiating off Tommy and he knows that right now his brother is in a tough place, torn between defending family and his best friend.

“I appreciate you tryin’,” Joel says, patting his brother on the shoulder with a half-hearted smile. “But I think we best leave it alone. I told her I’d give her space, so I will. She’ll talk to me when she’s ready.”

“I just don’t like seeing you like this,” Tommy retorts, motioning to the pathetic shell of a man next to him. “Bay’s a good girl, but she’s…she’s a heartbreaker.”

“Tommy, that’s enough,” Joel warns, holding his hand out. He nods to the clearing that leads to the west trail. “Let’s just get this over with and get back to camp.”

“Fine,” the younger Miller throws in the towel. He knows he shouldn’t put himself in the middle. This whole situation is up to Bay and Joel to figure out. And he’s sure he’ll hear it from Maria later. Mind your business, she’ll say. And she’ll be right. So he will.

If they’re meant to be, they’re meant to be. They’ll figure it out. No outside help.

--*--

Back in Jackson, the group brings Maria up to date on the outing before splitting up, going their separate ways. Most of them head to Seth’s, but Bay doesn’t stick around for goodbyes or some extra chatting time. Instead, she sneaks away in the direction of her house. After an annoying day, she just wants some quiet time. Yeah, quiet time sounds nice. She can drink some tea, curl up with a book, sit outside and enjoy the breeze.

However, life is never that easy, especially when a person is already down. And the universe knows that, throwing some new plans in Bay’s direction. Joel sees the girl slip away from the group, almost unnoticed. Almost. But he practically has a sensor when it comes to her. He says his goodbyes to Tommy, thanking him once again for trying to help, and runs after her.

“Bay, wait up!” He calls out in a whisper, but she doesn’t listen. Or she can’t hear him, continuing her walk along the streets back to her house without pause. She’s more tired than anything, and she doesn’t want to stop and chat, for anyone. She’d even ignore Maria at this point.

But Joel sees it as a dig to him, thinking she still doesn’t want anything to do with him. Their relationship is in limbo and he hates it. But goddamn, he can’t push her too far. If she snaps, he’ll ruin everything. He can’t fucking lose her. He won’t.

“Still not talkin’ to me, huh?” He asks, fully expecting more silence.

In a shocking turn of events, that doesn’t happen. Bay actually stops, stomping her foot in a fury. “What do you want, Joel?”

“How are you?” Is the first thing to pass through his lips as he approaches her. He wants to reach out and touch her, but he doesn’t know her limits right now. Fuck it. His hand lightly grazes hers, sending a spark from his fingertips to hers and she has the urge to pull away, but doesn’t. His fingers dare to twine with hers, lightly gliding his thumb over her hand.

That’s when she comes to her senses. “Joel,” she hesitates. “I’m…fine. I’m fine,” she insists. “I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Come back to my place?” He asks with hope. “We can talk. I know you must have questions. Or maybe you want to yell at me. I don’t care. Just please…”

“I don’t want to do this,” she says in frustration, warning him that he’s on the edge. “Yeah, I’m not gonna do this.” She pushes past Joel, leaving him behind without another word.

He knows better than to instigate more. Reluctantly, he lets her go, heart dropping as she picks up speed. She’s no longer heading towards her house, which sets his nerves into a tizzy. “Please don’t go to Tommy,” he says, desperate for her to listen to him.

Sighing, she stops. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t glance back at him. She doesn’t give him her attention. She just opens her mouth. “What?”

“Please don’t run away from me and go to him,” he pleads, a pain in his voice that she’s only heard once or twice before. They’ve talked in depth about her relationship with Tommy. They’ve talked the topic to death. And he knows where Bay’s heart is. He knows how she feels. Still, he has some insecurities.

“I won’t,” she says, giving him the answer he wants to hear, although it is the truth. She’s not going to go to Tommy. “Because I care about you, Joel. And I’d never do anything to hurt you.” The last part comes out in a whisper, her voice cracking as tears spring to her eyes. She wipes her cheeks, removing the evidence before continuing on her route.

--*--

Like she promised Joel, she doesn’t go to see Tommy, or Maria, for that matter. She’s actually decided to visit someone older, wiser, and definitely higher. A guru, of sorts.

TV on just for sound, Bay sits with Eugene on his old couch, a lit joint being passed between the two of them. Smoke clouds disperse as they relax, their minds taking a little break before getting into the deep shit. For an old man, Eugene is an excellent listener. He tells everyone it’s because he’s high with wisdom. Probably true.

When they’ve smoked enough to have their muscles relaxed, Bay breaks, crying as she tells Eugene that Joel’s been lying to her. She doesn’t go into detail, just telling him that he’s been keeping something and that she feels betrayed. She hurts in her heart, in her soul, and her fucking head is pounding. Though the latter is starting to ease, she can thank the weed for that.

“Honey,” the old man says, taking a long drag, the joint clamped between his lips, closing his eyes as the product infiltrates his lungs, fueling his already enchanting high. “I’ve heard stories about Joel Miller. Tommy used to tell me shit all the time.”

“Oh, yeah?” She smirks, only able to imagine what stories he’s heard. Joel hasn’t really spoken about his life pre-Ellie, save for bits and pieces of information. He has a dark history, she knows that much. “Fuck, this is good,” Bay exhales, head lulling back in intoxication. A fuzzy feeling coats her brain, comfort pulses through her blood, like a warm blanket enveloping her body.

“It’s my good shit,” Eugene chuckles, glancing at her. “Could tell you needed it, little one.”

“What am I gonna do, Eugene?” She asks him, eyes glistening up again. She’s never been a crier. Joel really brings out new emotions in her. One in particular that terrifies her more than anything.

“All I know is that some people are liars because they’re evil,” he begins and suddenly Bay is not a fan of this conversation. “Some people are liars because they’re pressured. Some are liars because they just don’t know any better, honestly,” he shrugs, fingering the joint, passing it back to Bay. “But some people, the good few, are liars because they are so in love they will do anything to hold on to that.”

Not the answer she was expecting, but it was the one she got. And it’s one that makes her palms sweaty and her heart jump. Or maybe that’s the marijuana… In any case, those endorphins release, sending her into a happy little bubble. He loves her, doesn’t he?

“Honey, I’ve met some bad people, I’ve been close with some bad people,” he sighs. “Joel Miller is not one of them,” he tells her. “He’s got some issues, done some shit, but the man adores you, sweetie. And I just know he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

“I have to go back, don’t I?” Bay asks, but she knows the answer. Leave it to the pothead to talk some sense into her. Oh, whatever. Pothead or not, he’s a genius. Always has been.

“Yeah, you do,” he chuckles, giving her a little nudge. He appreciates her company. She’s one of the only fun ones left in Jackson and each hangout, even if it’s smoking and talking shit, is a blast. But he also loves his drama-free alone time. So while Bay is always welcome, he also likes it when she leaves. “Come back tomorrow. I’ve got something new we can try out. Even better than this shit.”

“Okay,” Bay giggles. “I’m gonna hold you to that. Here,” she says, handing back the bud. “Thanks for listening to me complain,” she says, feeling a little guilty that she’s always dumping her problems on somebody else. It feels that way, at least.

Eugene slings an arm over her shoulder. “It’s what friends do, doll.” His words are a comfort to her and she’s thankful that she has people she can turn to in times of distress. Joel is one of those people. He’s good, he’s so good. He deserves a second chance.

She leaves Eugene’s little secret bunker, feeling better than she has in days. Optimism, it’s hard to have, hard to hold on to. But she’s feeling it and she’s going to try to keep it locked in as long as she can.

The outside is dark when Bay heads out. She must have lost track of time with Eugene. It’s easy to do with him. But she wasn’t expecting to see black skies and bright stars already. She’s late, but hopefully Joel is still awake.

Outside his house is quiet, but she can see a faint light coming from his bedroom window, indicating that he’s still up. She’s quiet as she opens his front door, letting herself in. She makes sure to lock the door behind her - just because they’re in Jackson, doesn’t mean you can be lazy with your safety.

The house is dim, save for the warm glow coming from upstairs. Silence melds with the darkness, the only thing that can be heard are her footsteps as the floor creaks underneath her, heading for the stairs. She’s careful, stealthy, with her movements. Inside, she’s still hesitant and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind telling her to run, but she doesn’t.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she enters Joel’s bedroom. He’s lying in bed, folding his book shut and setting it down on the table next to him. He reaches over to turn off the light, but stops, getting a sense that he’s not alone.

He’s surprised when he looks towards his open door and sees Bay standing there. Squinting, he can tell that her eyes are a little red, her cheeks are flushed pink. He shakes his head. She’s been smoking with Eugene. He supposes it’s better than her running off somewhere else.

They hold eye contact, Joel wishing he could make out what’s hiding behind her shimmering eyes, wishing he could see what she does. Does he look different to her, now that his lies are out in the open? Does she see a stranger instead of the guy she fell for? He doesn’t know. And it’s killing him.

She doesn’t say a word to him as she waltzes into the room. He keeps his eyes glued to her, watching as she stops at the other side of his bed. His breath catches in his throat as she slowly settles down onto the mattress.

Still silent, she lays down on her side, nestling her head softly against the pillow there. He follows her lead, carefully reaching for the light and switching it off. He is gentle as he finds his position in the bed, not wanting to scare her away.

Her breathing calms him, even if she refuses to speak. It’s enough for him. He doesn’t touch her, doesn’t try to talk. He just lays there next to her, listening to her, inhaling, exhaling, sighing. His heart doesn’t feel as cracked having her in bed with him. She’s real and she’s there, even if she doesn’t want to be. And that’s the only thing that helps him fall asleep.

Masterlist

Taglist: @extraneous-trip; @michele131 ; @liadamerondjarin

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou

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sixeyesgojo · 4 years ago

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Pictures of You

Summary: prequel to I’ll Be Your Enemy - fluffy!

Characters: IBYE!Reader, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara

Word count: 2,3k

Content warning: none

A/N: requested by @thecaptainsbride

If anybody got the reference Gojo made when he was late; congratulations, you have been successfully hurt (but this time it was not me).

Since I left the relationship between Gojo and the reader up for interpretation in IBYE, I will do the same here! Consider this piece me trying to mend your hearts <3

Taglist applications open for anyone who is interested!

“A trip to an amusement park or something like that doesn’t sound so bad,” you mused in front of Satoru. “It serves as relaxation and maybe the first-years can get closer to each other, you know, bonding and so on. They will see each other many times from now on, so getting along with each other is important,” you reasoned, your eyes almost sparkling from the thought of a day off.

“But Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual–” he began.

“Satoru, I think you should see this as vacation. A vacation where you can eat sweets until your teeth rot and absolutely nobody will hold you back,” you interrupted him.

“Okay, I am sold. Am listening now.” You just knew how to convince him. Sweets.

So that was exactly how the first-year students and you ended up at a fairground somewhere in Tokyo; it was quite neat, not too small but not too spacious either. None of you could get lost in it. Still, it was buzzing with life and all kinds of people mingled. The colorfulness was a refreshing sight to take in, compared to the dark world of Jujutsu Sorcery where seeing people suffer was your daily routine. The pleasant smell of food wafted through the air, making your mouth water, as you walked past the different booths with them. Waffles sounded like absolute heaven on earth right now.

Jujutsu Sorcery certainly was a draining sport, mentally as well as physically. Therefore it was only right to take a break at times, right? Self-care days were just as important as working.

In order to wind down a bit, you had suggested a one-day trip – just you, Satoru and the three first-year students you had adopted in your mind right away after meeting them several times.

“Sensei, you look very pretty today!” Yuji complimented you. Even Megumi noticed: “Did you have a haircut? Your hair seems a little bit shorter.”

“Yeah, Nobara had a field day with me. Cutting my hair.. or more like trimming the ends, choosing my outfit, doing my make-up and so on just for today,” you gushed as if you were a high school girl again. “Leave it to master stylist Kugisaki Nobara and nobody will ever look bad,” the brunette girl commended herself. Yuji was affectionately patting her on the back.

Undoubtedly, Satoru was late – nobody was surprised about that. You already went ahead and generously treated the trio of students you loved dearly to some food.

“Thank you for the food, sensei!” As usual, Yuji and Nobara were in perfect harmony with each other, seemingly sharing a brain.

“Thank you very much,” Megumi also expressed his thanks sweetly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought the way his lips seemed to twitch was unintentional. “Absolutely no problem, kiddos. You guys enjoy it while I try to contact Gojo-sensei, yeah?” you shot them an apologetic smile, already fishing out your phone. The three of them nodded in perfect synchronization. They’re as cute as little ducklings, you thought.

You didn’t even need to bother calling.

You were about to dial Satoru’s number on your smartphone when Yuji’s voice boomed, “Oh! There he is! Gojo-sensei, we are here!!”

The boy waved at his teacher.

Satoru immediately spotted the pink-haired student and skipped over to where you all were standing. “Sorry for the wait! I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life!!”

“Nice of you to finally join us, but sadly, the fun is already over and we decided to go home. Just wanted to call you to let you know! We’ve been here since morning,” you deadpanned as the white-haired man arrived, looking Satoru dead in the eye – if they weren’t covered. “Wait, wha– Hold on, I am very sure I am not that late. MY MOCHI?” Satoru sounded frantic, facing his students who just shrugged their shoulders. “Serves you right,” Megumi stated calmly. Nobara, being the sassy girl she was, also joined in, “Losers don’t get to have fun and that’s a fact.”

It was such a wholesome and funny moment for you to see the students playing along with your prank without being told beforehand.

You broke out in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer, “You should have seen your face, dumbass! I was just joking!”

“Phew, I almost thought I had to kiss the idea of eating sweets today goodbye. What a horror that would be, my day would be OVER this instant,” the blindfolded man pouted, “so where should I buy my sweets? I’m gonna buy the entire place anyway, but where do I start? Any suggestions for Great Teacher Gojo?”

“Hold up, Satoru! We gotta take a picture together to commemorate this special day!” you suggested, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. “I swear I just saw sensei’s eyes sparkle but I might be wrong,” Yuji remarked, looking at his dark-haired friend for confirmation.

“Sensei, if you want to take a picture, we have to take it at the right angle!” Nobara chimed in, the secret Instagram influencer in her on full display. She continued to explain, “It would come out great if Gojo-sensei took the pic, long arms privilege and so on.”

The female student almost seemed more into it than you were, it was adorable to you to see the usually bold student be this into taking pictures.

You hand the tall man your phone, but not without shooting him a “if you drop my phone, I’ll make you drop dead” look.

“Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation,” the male teacher commanded loudly. Upon hearing that, Megumi immediately slapped his hand in his face and turned away in embarrassment. Why was this man like this?

“...Ladies?” Yuji asked, the expression on his face screaming ‘confusion’ “Gojo-sensei just referenced a Beyoncé song, Itadori,” the dark-haired boy explained in a hushed tone, turning back slightly as if he did not want to get caught.

“And it’s not just any song!” Satoru happily chimed in. “Yes, yes, the good old Formation,” you added, nodding in satisfaction. You remember how you showed him the album when it dropped.

“Can we all just ignore Gojo-sensei and take our pic?” Nobara inquired as she shoved everybody into their respective spots. “Alright, everybody, smiiiiile for the camera. Say cheese!”

Click, click, click, click.

Finally, Satoru had gotten his share of sweets. Complying with his sweet tooth was always an effective way to calm him for some time. Almost like feeding a baby, in a way.

Now it was time for fun rides!

...or at least that was what you thought… until Satoru dragged you along to ride a freaking pendulum ride with him. The three students had managed to talk themselves out of stepping foot on that monster of a ride but Satoru didn’t even give you a chance to refuse, he simply gripped your arm and walked towards it.

Stopping only when you were already standing in line, you nervously eyed the metallic behemoth with its iron arm. The monstrosity was seemingly ready to make you throw up from the way it would spin you through the air repeatedly, going back and forth and back and forth again. Why did you have to do this?

“Satoru,” you called his name timidly and tugged at his sleeve, the strange feeling not leaving your gut, “do I really, really have to do this?”

“Absolutely! I promise it will be very fun,” Satoru replied with a signature grin you wanted to wipe off of his face at that moment.

No, it was not fun. At all. You were dizzy and your fear of height was kicking. The blasts of air hitting your face left, right and center were not helping at all and you were sure, if anybody took a picture of you right now, you would look horribly green.

“I– can’t do this anymore!” you shouted mid-air, right before the ride swung to the other side. The force knocked the air out of you once again.

“SATORU, PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE!” you begged and squeezed his arm with an iron grip. The height was too overwhelming. “Mid-ride?” Satoru asked and you nodded frantically. “Now that’s what I call reckless! Sounds like fun. I’m in!” he declared with a grin.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

That was the last thing you heard the tall man say before he touched your head with his large palm.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized this man used his domain this recklessly, for fun. Maybe it was a side effect of being able to use it multiple times a day.

The infinity gently wrapped itself around Satoru and you. Almost movie-like, you watched as the entire, vast universe beautifully unfolded in front of your eyes. Each star being created separately, then abruptly flashing by as a sea of stars – as if you were in a wormhole. You perceived the entire domain within a flash of a moment, yet tasted eternity in it. Everything but nothing at once.

Despite being touched by Satoru himself, the sensations weren’t without merit. If this was how it felt to be in the safe space of Satoru’s touch within his inner world of Limitless, you would rather not fathom how it felt to be the one hit by this powerful domain.

It took you some time to process things and recollect.

“When I said I wanted you to get the two of us out of that thing, I didn’t mean ‘send me to your domain’,” you scolded him.

“Well, it was convenient,” he defended himself and you could almost hear the grin on his face, “Bet you’ll hate me after this though.”

“Hating you was never really an option I’d ever consider but okay, we’ll run with it this time. Now undo your domain, please, while I am asking nicely.”

“Your wish is my command! This time at least.”

“Satoru.” A stern last warning fell from your lips.

“Yes, yes, boss. On it.”

“I thought you said it’ll be fun but I am absolutely not riding that thing ever again,” you took deep breaths to calm down as your feet securely touched the ground again. Your legs were still trembling a bit.

“And it was fun! At least for me! I like seeing you struggle – it’s so funny – and the way you clung to my arm? Adorable! You are so tiny compared to me, like a bug I could crush between my fingers!” The annoying sorcerer laughed merrily.

“Gojo fucking Satoru, the only thing that is about to be crushed here are your balls. With my leg. You are very lucky to have that damn Infinity of yours or else,” you threatened.

“Ouch, you really do know how to hurt an invincible man,” he snickered and flicked your forehead lightly.

Rejoining with the students was easy as they all saw the barrier Satoru’s domain created.

“You are lucky there was some kind of show going on down here. That barrier above would have freaked people out if they weren’t distracted,” Nobara said, looks shooting daggers at her weird teacher. Innocent and as nice as ever, Yuji pitched in as well: “Yeah, Fushiguro also tried to distract children with their wandering eyes! I think he did a good job.”

“Okay but what did he do though?” you asked curiously and looked at the boy in question.

“...Shadow puppets,” Megumi slowly admitted, looking anywhere but at the people in front of him.

“Oh? You love your foster-dad-turned-great-teacher this much to embarrass yourself out in public? That’s new!” Satoru teased the poor boy. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here or you’d all be in jail. That includes preventing civilians who are able to see curses from seeing you use Jujutsu while floating mid-air,” he justified, ignoring the tall teacher’s mockery completely.

“As much as I love slandering Gojo-sensei, I’d rather spend my day actually having fun,” Nobara pitched in, reminding everybody of why you were here in the first place.

“So, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” she added excitedly.

More fun rides.

Before you knew it, the day passed by. You could already feel the heaviness in your legs from walking. The swirling feeling from all the rides boded in your chest – you probably would not be able to sleep well tonight. It was definitely worth it though, you thought.

You had already brought the students back to their dorm – Satoru had ran off to the school because he remembered he had to do something – and were on the way home yourself.

You were in some sort of trance, completely immersed in your phone, so you hadn’t registered when Satoru called your name until he gently tapped your shoulder, falling into step with you.

“Yeah?” you looked up to Satoru, snapping out of your train of thought.

“Just wanted to tell you; ‘Operation: Relaxation Day’ was a great success.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Satoru.” A genuine smile graced your lips and for a moment, he softened at the sight.

“You know what? It was amazing, I really should start listening to you more often,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Well, it’s thanks to your amazing power of persuasion that we got to spend it like this, so thanks for today,” you half-heartedly complimented him.

“You do know I only said we’d not be available today and then dashed, right?” he asked you, the usual playful tone lacing his voice. “Exactly what I meant by saying ‘your amazing power of persuasion’.”

“I think I’ll frame the picture we took,” you murmured softly, fondly looking at the screen of your phone. The picture from earlier was displayed on your homescreen.

Surely, you would hang it on the blank wall in your home as well. It was a personal treasure now.

Taglist (dm me if you wanna be added): @assbuttbaek @megumifushi @bleueluna @gojos-mochi @delammi

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x y/n #domain expansion #infinite void #ibye series

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tennessoui · 3 years ago

Note

1. Soulmates AU please! It is definitely my guilty pleasure trope

hello im only three months ish late maybe four but this is also 3.4k long and it's just wild i mean we're talking soul mates, superheroes, rushed world building, superhero names this is a trip this is something i wrote after waking up from a four hour nap this ever had a chance and also it's sad

1. Soul Mates (+ 42. Star Crossed Lovers)

“You shouldn’t have come,” Obi-Wan says harshly, pulling the children--they’re just goddamn children--into his apartment and slamming the door behind them. “Did anyone see you?”

The children--all four of them--stay quiet. Obi-Wan wants to wring their necks. He knows why they’re here. He’d rather them die on the streets than suffer through what they’re obviously here about.

But if that were really true, he would have just left them on his doorstep.

“Did anyone see you?” he asks again.

“Not that we noticed,” one of the girls in the middle says. Shili, dressed in a blue and white striped sensible jumpsuit and sporty cape. The leader of the new generation of superheroes and she sounds like she hasn’t even hit puberty yet.

Obi-Wan is suddenly very, very tired.

“Kam,” Shili gestures to the person next to her and a little behind, a tall boy with a helmet covering his face and white and blue armor covering the rest of him, “says he didn’t pick up anything with his sensors. We were safe. We’re not trying to get you caught, sir. We just need to talk to you.”

“You could kick us out,” the other girl points out, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not even bothering to wear a domino mask, but Obi-Wan doubts very much he’s looking at her real appearance. She’s Mirial, of course.

Which makes the other boy in a padded white and orange suit Mando. Four of the fifty or so remaining Jedi superheroes are in his house.

Obi-Wan sighs and turns to pad down the hallway. “Shoes off,” he calls behind his shoulder. “And does anyone want any tea?”

“No thank you,” Shili responds politely, falling into step behind him.

“Sit,” he tells them roughly when he notices the four of them standing awkwardly in his cramped dining room. “Sit down.”

He puts the kettle on anyway, and bangs around the cabinets for a few seconds to find an unopened bag of chips and a sleeve of probably stale cookies.

He doesn’t have much else to offer them though. Not now.

Weren’t you the one always telling me to eat my vegetables? A laughing voice murmurs into his ear. Look at you now.

Obi-Wan has to stand for a second in his small and dirty kitchen, chips clutched in one hand and cookies in the other, and breathe for an impossibly long moment.

This is why he had not wanted to ever see another Jedi in his life. All they brought with them were questions and ghosts.

Obi-Wan has enough of those as it is.

The kettle goes off and he pours the hot water into his mug. The cowardly part of him that hasn’t faced a fight in ten years now wants to wait here until the tea has finished steeping and then think of a thousand other excuses to not ever leave the kitchen again. He's good at thinking of excuses. He calls them reasons and lives his life with them.

But he has always known someone would eventually come looking for answers. That had always been one of the prices he knew he would eventually have to pay.

He notices immediately upon entering the dining room that they’ve saved him a seat, if it counts as saving someone a seat when they’ve rearranged the chairs so one is on one side of the table and the other two are squeezed opposite it.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought snacks to my own interrogation,” he says blithely, depositing them onto the table in front of the children.

Kamino stares intently at them for a second, and then nods once to Shili, who reaches out to open the bag of chips. In a show of good faith, she takes one and eats it. Obi-Wan can’t see her eyes underneath the white lenses of her domino mask, but he’s quite sure she hasn’t stopped looking at him once.

“Are you sure you do not want tea, now we have established I am not going to poison you?” he asks, crossing his ankles and taking a sip from his own mug.

“It’s a bit too warm out there for hot tea,” Mirial says disdainfully, looking at her nails. “You know, what with the world on fire.”

“But I’d take an iced one, if you have it,” Shili leans forward.

Obi-Wan pauses, drink halfway to his mouth.

He sets it down gently on the wood of his table. “Ah. Going straight in, aren’t we?”

“There’s not much time for anything else,” Mando says, and at least he sounds a bit apologetic.

“A weighty statement from someone who can manipulate time itself,” Obi-Wan hums.

“Only for a few seconds,” Mando mutters behind his helmet, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“That’s because you don’t have much in the way of training, young man,” Obi-Wan tells him gently with a hint of steel behind it “Back in my day--”

He cuts himself off. He doesn’t know why. Clearly, they know who he used to be. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here. He’s really just delaying the inevitable, but his throat feels tight. This truth, so long unspoken, is hard to drag into his mouth. And yet, every second he doesn’t speak it, it’s bashing itself to death against the backs of his teeth.

“Would you like us to tell you what we’ve found out about your days?” Mirial asks, looking up from her nails. “Would that make it easier for you, Ilum?”

“Meer--” Shili starts to say, reaching out to touch the girl’s arm, rein her in, but it’s too late.

The planes of Mirial’s face change and shift and suddenly for the first time in ten years, Anakin Skywalker is sitting across from him. “Would you like to talk about the old days, or would you like me to talk about the old days?” Mirial in Anakin’s smooth baritone asks.

It’s cruel. It’s so cruel that for a second Obi-Wan wishes his heart could just stop from the pain of it all. “Please put that away,” he tells the tabletop coldly. “And please. Do not call me that.”

“Meer,” Shili murmurs, and there’s a shift in the air.

When Obi-Wan looks back up, Mirial is back to the way she always appears in press releases, green skin and all. “That was a decent impression,” he tells her. She bristles at the perceived slight, but he holds up his hand. “But when I knew him, his eyes weren’t gold. They were blue.”

“Mustafar has had golden eyes since he joined the Imps,” Mirial argues back in a way that reminds Obi-Wan of another young teenager, who never could learn how to take criticism well.

“And he was someone else before then,” he tells the girl. “He had another name and he had a mother and he had a soulmate and a--fiancee and everything.”

His hands have started to shake, so he clasps the mug tightly, though it burns him.

“Tell us,” Shili insists forcefully but compassionately. Obi-Wan had wondered before why they had chosen to make the girl whose only ability is to fly the leader of the newest Jedi team, but it must be that. It must be her compassion. “Please. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says. “I know. I’m the only one who is left. But if I am to demask myself, I will not do it to a table of strangers.”

The children turn to look at each other. Kamino cocks his head at Shili, who inclines her own head. Mirial shrugs. Mando shakes his head once, but Shili seems to override him, because she turns back to Obi-Wan and takes off her domino mask.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano,” she says, stumbling over the name. Obi-Wan wonders how many times she’s unmasked herself before. “Or Shili.”

She nudges Mirial, who sighs. “I’m Barriss,” she tells him grudgingly.

Kamino takes off his helmet to reveal a strong-jawed boy with a blond buzzcut. “His name is Rex,” Ahsoka says. “He can’t speak except through minds.”

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise at this. He had known that Kamino had an advanced sense of the senses, could tell something’s molecular makeup just by looking at it, could smell a gas leak from two miles away, etcetera, etcetera, but he hadn’t known the boy could communicate telepathically as well.

“And I’m his twin,” Mando sighs, taking off his own helmet and revealing a startlingly similar face, marred by a scar just across his temple. “Cody.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Obi-Wan tells them, drumming his fingers on the table. “You know already. I fought under the name Ilum. I could--”

He searches for words to describe his own powers, and settles instead on a demonstration. With a flick of his hand, the liquid in the mug rises and freezes into a miniature wave, suspended in the air.

He lets the ice drop into the mug, and inclines his head to Ahsoka. “Iced tea?” he asks wryly.

“Tell us about Mustafar,” Mando demands. What a heavy thing to carry, Obi-Wan finds himself thinking. The knowledge of all that time.

What Obi-Wan wouldn’t give to be ten years younger again. Not to even change anything, though he would be stupid to not try to. But to just enjoy the moment for what it had been in the end: just a moment.

“We didn’t call him that then,” Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “We called him Iego in uniform, and Anakin in civvies.

“He was...radiant. In battle and off the field. I was the leader of our team for six years until Anakin came along. And I just knew as soon as I saw him that he would take everything from me. But he wouldn’t have had to take it. I would have given it to him right then.”

“I didn’t think he was that attractive,” Ahsoka mumbles, and then slaps a hand over her mouth as if afraid she’s spoken out of turn and ruined the story so completely that Obi-Wan won’t say anything else.

Instead, Obi-Wan laughs but it doesn’t sound much like a laugh at all. “Well, to each is his own, of course,” he says when he thinks the hysteria has worn off. “And finding out he carried my soul mark certainly helped.”

The room is blissfully silent, which Obi-Wan is beyond thankful for. He just wants to let those never-before admitted truths hang in the air, just for a few more seconds. He almost wants to say them again actually. Anakin Skywalker is my soulmate. Anakin Skywalker carries the same mark I carry, and he always has.

“But…” Barriss says slowly, “But Mustafar’s soulmark is on his neck.”

“It’s not,” Obi-Wan murmurs, staring at the wall behind their heads. “What he has on his neck is an ice burn scar in the shape of a hand. In the shape of my hand. His actual soul mark is on his mid-back, right over his spine.”

“You tried to kill your soulmate?” Ahsoka gasps, looking horrified.

Obi-Wan smiles with no joy behind it. “I tried to save the world,” he corrects her gently.

“You said earlier…” Cody speaks up. “That Mustafar--that Anakin had a fiancee. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “I never told him. I...couldn’t. I wanted to wait I suppose. I. Well. My soulmark is identical to his, but it’s on my thigh. And. You know what they say about a soulmatch whose marks aren’t in the same spot.” “Star crossed,” Ahsoka whispers.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirms. “I decided to wait. I was a few years older than him, he had so much to learn, he needed a friend more than he needed a soulmate. I had a long list of reasons, all as iron-clad as the next. But they were excuses. I was afraid. This man, my soulmate, could control fire and sunlight itself. He burned with passion, shone with power. And I...I was cold. Too pragmatic, too quick to criticize when he needed praise. The marks were just marks. Maybe they fit together, maybe they matched. But I was terrified that we wouldn’t.

“And by the time I thought to tell him, he came to find me instead. He was in love, he said. He had been seeing a girl for months and was going to ask her to marry him. And I suppose I must have asked about his soulmate, because he told me he would rather never know his soulmate, if knowing meant losing her.”

So. So Obi-Wan had let him go, though that part doesn’t make for a good story. He had distanced himself as much as he could get away with, which is not much really, seeing as how Iego and Ilum fought best when they fought together.

But in the end, his heartbreak had been too much, even for someone as cold as Obi-Wan had been known to be. He’d put in for a temporary transfer. A remedial medical leave, a Jedi-sanctioned sabbatical so he could ostensibly connect with himself and his powers. Nothing longer than a year.

You’ll miss the wedding, Anakin had told him, heartbreak shining in his own eyes.

But his heartbreak had been nothing compared to Obi-Wan’s, and so he had left. He had needed to. It had felt like rending his soul in two, but he had.

Two weeks into his stay at a different Jedi training base, Obi-Wan had died in an explosion. “That hadn’t been Jedi sanctioned,” he tells the children in front of him wryly. “We thought it was an accident at the time, but there were too many coincidences. Too many casualties.” But Obi-Wan’s death had been the only casualty Anakin had felt. It hadn’t mattered that someone had managed to restart his heart only a few minutes later. He had died. He had died and Anakin had felt his soulmate die. He had burned his fiancee in his own uncontrollable agony. She had not survived Obi-Wan’s death, even though Obi-Wan himself had.

“I...I don’t know what happened. Still. It’s been years and I have thought of little else. She may have been standing too close to him when it happened. Or...the house may have caught on fire and she was trapped inside. Or...I don’t know. I don’t know,” he spreads his hands palm up on the table and looks at the faces of the children.

He sighs and continues. There is so little left in the story now. “The Jedi Order decided to tell the press that there had been no survivors, though there had been a few. We couldn’t know if the Imperials were behind the attack or not, so we had to be careful. The survivor’s families were told, and their soulmates. Officially, I had no family. I had...no soulmate. They didn’t tell anyone I had survived. Ilum died in that explosion. Still to this day, he's dead.

“Anakin had always been absurdly powerful...and dangerous. He’d killed the love of his life, had felt his soulmate dying, and then...heard that I too had died. The first two had destabilized him, but my death and the Jedi Order’s staunch rejection of his request to see my body, to give me a funeral...it made him even more vulnerable to outside manipulation.”

“The Imperials….” Cody murmurs.

Obi-Wan nods, lip curling up. “The Imperials,” he agrees. “The timeline is fuzzy. I spent a good part of these weeks partially dead, one foot in both worlds. I didn’t know what was going on. When I was well enough to watch the news, the Jedi told me there was a new super villain working with the Imperials, going by the name Mustafar. I trained to kill him as he was helping the Imps decimate the Jedi. All of my old team was dead. Anakin was missing. I didn’t--”

He cuts himself off and runs a hand down his face. The children are waiting on his words. He’s telling them why they’re fighting wars adults should be fighting. He’s telling them why they’re out in the field after only a month or less of training. He’s trying to tell them why he isn’t out there fighting with them, but he knows already they won’t accept his excuses.

They shouldn’t have to.

“They gave me a new uniform and a new name,” Obi-Wan picks up the story. “Hoth. And I went off to kill my soulmate.”

“But you didn’t,” Barriss says, and she sounds vaguely confused and vaguely accusatory.

“I almost did,” Obi-Wan admits, like it’s a sin, like it's salvation. “Everything about him was different. He was not the passionate but warm boy I had known. He was a forest fire. A volcano. And Mustafar’s fighting style was completely different from Iego’s. I only realized it was Anakin--my Anakin--when I managed to knock his mask off. I had my hand around his throat, but when I realized who I was fighting...I let go. I couldn’t kill him. Even after everything he did. Even knowing...knowing Iego was gone.”

The dining room is silent for a second, before three voices burst out angrily at once.

“Why aren’t you helping the Jedi?” Ahsoka asks the loudest. “Hoth--Ilum, Obi-Wan. We need you. Mustafar--the Imperials...they’re not going to stop. They’ve killed so many Jedi. We need you to help us.”

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I cannot.”

“You used to be a hero,” Barriss accuses. “Now what are you? A hollowed out, sad man.”

“I was never a hero,” he snaps. “I followed orders. Anyone can do that.”

“You were the best,” Cody says quietly, cutting Obi-Wan to the bone. “You led the Geonosis team for six years. I studied you in class. You were...the best.”

“I wasn’t,” Obi-Wan disagrees just as quietly. “But perhaps you all are.”

“You haven’t even told us any weakness we could use against him in battle!” Barriss shouts, standing up suddenly, which causes the chair to clatter over. “You’ve been no help at all! I’m leaving, this is a waste of time!”

“Barriss--!” Ahsoka cries after the girl, grabbing her discarded mask and taking after her.

Cody opens his mouth and then closes it. He jams the helmet back onto his head. “The soulmark. You said it’s on his hip?”

Obi-Wan smiles mirthlessly. Cody is trying to see if he can catch him in a lie, if this is actually good tactical information or not. “It’s a few inches below his shoulder blades, right over his spine.”

Cody nods once and then files out, leaving Obi-Wan alone in the room with the silent, still helmetless Rex.

“I just told him how to kill my supervillain soulmate,” Obi-Wan tells Rex, even though he’s really talking to himself. “Soulmarks, even dead ones, are extremely sensitive. If Anakin had hit me with his fire on my other thigh, I would be dead. Not just crippled. Muscle, young man, doesn’t grow back easily.”

He rubs a hand over the leg in question, staring down at the uneven way his pants lay over the old injury. It aches from the walking he’s forced it to do today, from trying to walk normally im front of these powerful strangers.

Rex taps the table to get him to look up, and then gestures to his own eyes.

“I?” Obi-Wan asks, confused.

Rex rolls his eyes and then mimes writing something.

“Ah, there should be a pen and pad in the kitchen?” he trails off as the teenager goes to retrieve the aforementioned things.

It takes a second longer than it should, and he comes out carrying just a slip of paper with his helmet forced back onto his head.

With a flick of his fingers, the paper’s lying on the table and Rex is following his teammates out the door and out of Obi-Wan’s apartment and hopefully out of his life forever.

Curious, Obi-Wan grabs the note and unfolds it to read.

We thought Musta. had yel. eyes because all the top Imps have yel. eyes. But if Ankn had blue eyes, then mybe none of the imps should have yel eyes.

No one knows what sidious power is -> what if it’s mind control?

Obi-Wan puts the note down onto the table with shaking hands. He wishes desperately he had never read it.

Because those words plant a seed of hope in his chest he isn’t sure he’ll be able to live without now.

What if Anakin--his Anakin--what if he’s in there still? What if Obi-Wan had abandoned him to ten years of brainwashing and mind control with not much of a fight at all?

But more pressingly, what if there’s hope for him? For both of them? Still, after all this time?

#asks #my fics #look i did another prompt #obikin #superheroes au #i was thinkin of the robert frost fire and ice poem when i went to sleep #and this was the result lmao #obviously they end up together #idk what to tell you #probably big moment for anakin who still thinks obi-wan is dead #for him to show up ten years older than he ever thought he'd see him #limping and being called hoth #i liked the superhero names being after the planets they're from (i mean mostly #iego is cause of the angels thing and obi-wan is like oof hes radiant hes great hes an angel)#hes a mass murderer (again) is what he is #god i hope this fic makes sense its 4:41 #prompt fill

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anagentinwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Lifeline - Part 2

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~2900

Warnings: Elevators, Angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Steve POV

“The 911 operator I was talking to had this great idea to use the hose to pull the little girl across the water to get her out of the pool,” Steve reminisced, sitting at the big island in the kitchen watching Sam cook.

“Dude, I was there, remember,” Sam replied. “And hasn’t it been like a week since that happened?”

“Yeah, but it was such a clever idea. I didn’t even know they could see the whole house on their monitors.”

“Who cares! It’s probably some fancy technology not available on the market yet, but if I'm hearing this correctly, it sounds like she popped Stevie’s dispatcher cherry,” Bucky joked behind him.

Steve peeked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “My what cherry?”

“You know when you talk to a dispatcher on the phone while on scene. Danvers takes those calls most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, one of us takes it.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. “Who was the operator?”

“Um...YN.”

“Oh, my sister,” Thor announced in a deep voice, patting him on the shoulder and taking the stool next to him. “She is very intelligent.”

“Wait, you have a sister?” Steve asked, widening his eyes at him.

“I have two sisters, while one half-sister, but we don’t talk about her because she’s the worst,” Thor answered with pursed lips. “YN is the best though, I like to think she got the brains, I got the brawn, and well, I guess, that makes Loki the beaut of the family.” He nodded with a half shrug.

“Are we still talking about how Rogers popped his dispatcher cherry,” Carol smirked, walking into the kitchen with Valkyrie. Steve felt his face heat up as he tried to say something, but she held her hand up. “It’s okay! Everyone remembers their first time,” She winked, forcing him to shake his head.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Steve held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide the blush on his face.

_____________

You swiveled back and forth in your chair, waiting for the next call to come in. You had a half-hour left of your twelve-hour shift, and you needed a girls' night out. Living with your brother and Darryl was both a blessing and a curse. They offered you a place to stay, rent-free when you first moved here, but the amount of testosterone in that house was sometimes too much for you to handle. You tapped your fingers on your desk when your line started ringing. You sat up, letting out a deep breath, and pressed the spacebar.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello,” a male voice replied.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m making a turkey and was wondering what the internal temperature has to be?”

“You do know it’s against the law to call with a fake emergency, right?”

“Yes, but this is an emergency.”

“No, it’s not, so get off my line.” You hung up the line, shaking your head. Right away, another call came through, and you answered it.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, hello. My friends are trapped in the elevator. The elevator must have snapped or something because there was this loud bang.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Natural History Museum. Please hurry!”

____________

Steve sat in his unassigned assigned spot at the dining table, eating a late lunch with the team. It was the cardinal rule at Station 107: Work as a team and eat as a family. Steve never thought he'd be able to find another firehouse he enjoyed working at, considering his previous teammates and friends at his old one. He hated leaving them behind, but he needed a fresh start, and so far, Station 107 was the best second home he could ask for.

Everyone brought something to the team as every firehouse did. Captain Danvers, or Ace as she preferred to be called in the field, brought her confidence and experience, which made for a great leader they could trust and rely on. Thor had his strength and his bravery, but he did have an ego. Sam was a great motivator and could keep everyone on task while still cracking jokes. It was no wonder Sam was the head EMT at this firehouse. Valkyrie was a badass and wasn’t afraid to put people in their place. As for Bucky, Steve knew he would always be there for him till the end of the line.

The loud alarm blaring throughout the firehouse pulled Steve out of his stupor. Everyone knew what that sound meant, and they were ready to tackle whatever it might be. One after another, they slid down the firepole, pulled on their gear, and hopped in the truck, heading towards the scene. It wasn’t unusual to take calls that didn’t involve fire because whoever could get there the fastest was better than no one showing up at all.

Thor hopped behind the driver's seat of the fire engine, pulling out of the garage. Carol sat beside him, giving him directions while speaking with the dispatcher through her headset. The sirens were wailing with Val and Sam behind them in the ambulance.

“Alright, boys. We got an elevator crash at the Natural History Museum,” Carol said into her helmet mic after speaking with dispatch. “Dispatch says three students and their pregnant teacher are inside.”

“What’s the plan, Ace?” Steve asked into his helmet mic, concealing the siren blaring in the background.

“I have contacted the museum's elevator technician, and he has already locked and tagged the power on the cars. The car sits near the basement level, so we will approach from the top in the lobby. I want Thor on the winch…”

“Ahh---what,” Thor interrupted her.

“Calm down, big guy, you can have the next one.” She gave him the side-eye, making the rest of the crew chuckle. “Steve and Bucky are going to do an immediate retrieval and approach from the top. Sam and Val will set a perimeter and then treat those who come up. Then, I will help with the retrieval, and Thor with the winch,” she stated with the last part dripping in sarcasm.

“It still hurts,” Thor added, taking a right at the intersection.

Once on-site, everyone grabbed their gear and took their positions. Steve and Bucky strapped on their harnesses and helmets, switching on the flashlight. They started scaling down the elevator shaft from the lobby as Thor lowered them on the winch with the retrieving rope.

“How we looking, Steve?”

“Sexy, but not like we are trying too hard, but it’s more kind of effortless.”

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen Steve’s ass in that harness. It could be American’s Ass or more like LA’s Finest Ass,” Sam commented with a whistle, echoing in the shaft.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Steve landed on the top of the elevator, unhooking himself while Bucky did the same. “I’m down and unattached.”

“That’s what she said,” Carol responded with her head appearing in the shaft.

Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “Classic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and used his other flashlight to find the hatch on top of the elevator. He unclipped the lock, opening the hatch door, seeing the top of the lights. “I’m Fireman Rogers, please move towards the buttons. I’m going to kick the light out, so we can get you out of there.” It took a few kicks, but once it fell through, a few faces peeked up at him. “How are we doing in there?”

“Oh my god, thank god, you’re here. I thought we were gonna die,” one of the kids replied, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Calm down, Flash. Everything is fine,” the pregnant woman reassured. “Right?” She looked up at Steve with worried filled eyes, and he nodded.

“Watch out, I'm coming down.” Steve crawled down into the hatch, and Bucky passed him the spare harness. “Ma’am, you’re going up first, but first we need to get you strapped into this harness, then we’ll pull you up.” She nodded, trusting him, and allowing him to put the harness on her before Thor used the winch to pull her up.

“Okay, boys, who's going to go next?”

“I’m next,” the one they called Flash stated.

“Okay, then, how about you with the cool hat.”

“Thanks, it gives me confidence,” the kid smiled.

“And then, you,” Steve pointed to the kid wearing a Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt.

“Um...yeah--” he nodded a little too much. “--Yeah...I can go last. Get everyone else to safety first.”

“Perfect.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

___________

It turned out to be a quick rescue, and no one suffered any major injuries. Steve took some gear out to the truck and started repacking it when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around, noticing the kid in the Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt wrapped in an ambulance blanket.

“What can I do for you, kid?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. I’m...I’m Peter Parker.” He held out his hand, and Steve shook it. “I just wanted to say thank you...thank you for saving my teacher and my friends back there. We’re on our school trip from New York, and this was an adrenaline rush experience.” Peter held up his hand, and Steve noticed it shaking.

He chuckled. “It will wear off.”

“It felt like that opening scene of that old action movie. Where John Wick saves those people that were trapped in the elevator after the bad guy tried to blow them up with a bomb. They don’t catch him obviously because it’s the opening scene, but later he puts the bomb on the bus, and that Bird Box lady has to keep driving like fifty-five miles an hour, or the bus will blow up.”

“I know the one. I think you’re thinking of Speed, but I don’t think it’s that old.”

“Yeah, yeah, that one,” he chuckled, pointing his finger at him. “It’s kind of old, I mean you’re kind of old, so it’s kind of old to you, but to me, it’s kind of new because I’m not that old.” He rambled on, his eyes widening, realizing what he was saying.

“Peter, come on. The museum is going to show us some never before seen stuff because we almost died,” the kid with the cool hat shouted from across the street.

“Coming, Ned,” he yelled back. “Thanks again, Fireman Rogers, and sorry about calling you old. I didn’t...”

“It’s okay, kid, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Steve watched Peter run back over to his friends with a smile on his face. It was these moments when he loved his job, watching friends and families reunite after a tragedy. It was these moments where he felt like it could almost fix what he lost.

______________

You sighed, taking a seat at your usual spot at the end of the bar in Happy’s Hydrant. Happy noticed you right away and smiled, giving you a bottle of beer. You thanked him with a nod, taking a sip, and scanning the crowd. It wasn’t unusual to spot a familiar face, considering this bar was created for the heroes of Los Angeles. It welcomed all those members who served or are currently serving as first responders, but civilians were welcome, too. It’s nice to have a place to go with people you could relate to and share similar experiences with after working a twelve or twenty-four-hour shift. They understand what we go through on a day to day basis. It was one of the many reasons Happy Hogan wanted to open this bar after he retired from his Fire Chief position at Station 12.

You swiveled back and forth on your bar stool until someone familiar on the other end of the bar caught your eye. You stopped moving, your eyes not wavering from the man. Your mouth went dry, hearing your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You gulped, feeling your palms start to tingle as the muscles in your legs start to tighten. Every nerve in your body was firing, telling you to run, but it felt like if you moved an inch, he would see you, and these past three months would’ve been for nothing. He glanced your way for a brief moment, and relief flooded your whole body. You relaxed, squeezing your eyes shut as you took a few deep breaths in and out. It wasn’t him.

The weight of someone touching your shoulder makes you jump off your bar stool, and turn around to see one of the ladies you were waiting for. “Hey, it’s only me.” Carol held up her hands in surrender, giving you a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I forgot how jumpy you can be.”

“It’s okay. Lost in my head again.” You nodded, returning to your barstool.

“Thanks for giving my transfer a chance to be the shining star of my squad last week.” She nudged your side, flagging down Happy for a drink.

“Your what...with what,” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

“The pool, the hose, the little girl stranded on a floaty with the water electrified. Ringing any bells?”

“Ohhh, right. That one.” You took a sip of your beer. “Fireman Rhodes or was it Ronin?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” You pointed the neck of your beer bottle at her and nodded. “You made quite an impression on him. He can’t stop talking about it, and it’s getting really annoying, but I guess you did pop his dispatcher cherry.” She nudged your side with an ever-growing smile on her face. You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head. “And if single you is interested, I am sure he is willing to mingle. At least, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not ready to start dating. I’m still trying to find myself after going through a terrible six-year marriage.” You gave her a half shrug, eyeing the bar. “When I am ready to date again, all I want is a nice guy.”

“Steve’s nice. Hey, you should swing by one day before your shift and meet him,” she winked, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“I haven’t even filed for divorce yet.”

“Wait--” she turned on her stool to face you “--hasn’t it been three months? Why not?”

“I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

“Doesn’t he know where Thor lives?”

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Let's just say he didn’t take much interest in my life while we were together. Besides, I don’t think he'd think I’d go to Thor with how everything turned out the last time I went to him for help.

“What an asshole.” She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her beer, and you nodded. “Well, at least you know you have an admirer,” she added, making you scoff.

“Hey ladies, sorry I’m late,” Natasha greeted, taking the other stool next to you. “Clint and I checked out this noise complaint a neighbor called in. And it turns out this guy was serenading his ex-girlfriend with hopes to win her back. It was this whole thing, and we wanted to stick around to see what happened next.”

“So what happened,” Carol asked with curious eyes, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face.

“It was crazy.” She shook her head, letting out a breathy chuckle. “She came down and punched him in the face. Apparently, this dude cheated on her with, wait for it--” she drummed her hands on the bar countertop “--her brother. It was a twist I didn’t see coming, but talk about drama on duty. Sometimes I think it would be easier fighting fires or answering phones all day.”

“Oh please, Nat, you wouldn’t last a day. You would miss seeing the excitement first hand. Over the phone, you don’t get much excitement,” you replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Carol added, taking a swig of her beer. “You would love my job, Nat. You get to boss men around.”

“I kind of do that already. Besides, I don’t think I could leave Clint. He’d be lost without me,” she smirked, signaling Happy to make her a martini.

Natasha oozed confidence, which came off as intimidating to most women. When she walked into a room, all eyes were on her, but it was attention she chose to ignore. When men would buy her drinks, she'd take it to another lovely lady. Nat was all about lifting and empowering women to feel confident in their own skin. She wasn’t afraid to tell people to back off or shut up. She was the role model you wish you had when you were with him, then maybe you would've had the confidence and courage to leave sooner.

“Here you are, Nat?” Happy pushed the martini glass to her. “Are you ladies still good?” He asked, pointing to the drinks in front of you.

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, Happy,” you smiled at him as he walked away, shooting you a thumbs up.

“How is apartment hunting going, YN?” Nat asked, taking a sip of her martini.

“Good, I found this cute little condo a few blocks away from work. It has a modern feel to it, but I think it would be perfect for me,” you described. “I loved it when I saw the pictures. The landlord is out of town right now, but she told me it’s mine if I want it.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Nat squealed, squeezing your forearm. “You need to get out of that testosterone-filled house and get on your own two feet again.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol agreed. “What’s your softie older brother going to think of you leaving?”

“I’m going to have to break it to him slowly.”

__________

AN: Thanks for reading part 2! I hope you all are liking it so far! If you caught it there was a quote from Brooklyn 99 that I thought was too good not to put in! 😂 Also, Darryl Jacobson, if you don't remember him, he was Thor's roommate in those Marvel shorts. I thought he would be a fun and entertaining addition to this story! Also, any ideas as to why Steve left his old firehouse? Did you enjoy the little Peter Parker cameo? And what do you think Thor is going to think of her moving it? Comments always welcome, thanks again for reading!

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smarchit · 4 years ago

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Look Around, Look Around pt 3

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse

Notes: yaaaaaaall better get ready bc the story really starts to kick in during this chapter - stay tuned!

So you'd been travelling with the Mandalorian for a little over a month now. A month of helping him as best you could around the Razor Crest, which usually meant watching the baby while he was out looking for work.

He'd kept it to touring mostly well-populated planets for now, and ones usually far less dangerous than he was used to working on. He didn't want to put you in any unnecessary danger than what came with one in his field of expertise, so it was mostly touristy things on larger planets.

You had fun at first, but those weren't the type of places his work usually stuck around on. So you had to keep moving, keep hopping from skughole to skughole in pursuit of work.

Presently, you were seated on a crate outside of the Crest while he negotiated a docking fee from the Twi'lek woman who owned the hangar and adjacent inn. You rubbed a soothing hand over your stomach while the unborn baby inside you did somersaults. It's okay, little one. I'm right here.

"Need a room for your wife?" the woman asked, slightly louder so you could hear her. She raised a brow at the Mandalorian, who slightly turned to face you.

"She's not my wife - and no," he corrected sharply. "We don't. Just need the hangar spot for a day or so."

You sighed and looked down at the bounty hunter's little one that was currently trying to chase down a cricket nearly as large as he was. He'd tire himself out, which would be good for you later on.

It had been getting a little more difficult for you to sleep at night, not due to anxiety, but due to the creeping pressure on your back and hips.

The Mandalorian, stoic and chivalrous as he was, had offered you his bed to sleep in. He'd found some extra bedding in a shop on Tatooine and bought it all for you so you weren't suffering anymore than you had to. You were nesting. The child constantly was snuggling in the bed with you, and would make his way into your room while the Mandalorian slept, much to his panic. He'd wake in the morning and frantically search for him at first, but now he knew right where to find you.

"Ready?" the Mandalorian asked, making his way back over to you. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and the keys to a speeder in his hand.

Dare you say it, it looked very dad-like, and you actually found a smile creeping across your face at his casual pose.

"Where's this one hiding?" you asked as he shut up the door to the Crest. You scooped up the child, something that was getting increasingly difficult with each day, and stood with him in your arms.

"About a four hour ride that way," Mando said, gesturing with his whole hand pointing east.

You groaned internally. "Four hours!"

"You can stay here if you want," he said with a shrug.

You glanced around the old hangar and scowled. It was completely walled in, and you could see none of the planet from here.

"I'm coming," you said firmly.

He nodded once. "Alright then. Let's go."

***

It took almost five hours to get to your destination, due in part to the rough terrain and also to the fact that your baby thought it would be a wonderful idea to park itself on your bladder.

Coupled with the fact that you were carrying a squirming infant on top of that didn't make for an enjoyable trip.

You finally made it to a small inn in the middle of nowhere long after dark. The soft yellow light from the windows lit up the otherwise overwhelming darkness around you and the front door opened quickly as you neared the inn.

You pressed your back against his chest in fear. This was out in the middle of no where - you hadn't seen another settlement in hours. They shouldn't know anyone was coming...

"They're waiting here for us," Mando explained. "There's nothing to worry about."

You didn't relax even as the bike slowed to a gentle stop in front of the house. Mando jumped off first and held his arms out to you to jump into. The step down was higher than you realized and you stumbled off of it, landing against him heavily. He caught you with ease and set you back on your feet.

The child cooed in your arms when he realized how close his adopted father was. You gently shushed him and pulled his little swaddle over his head.

"Mando!" a booming voice called from the doorway of the in. You jumped a mile and yelled in fear. On instinct, you jumped behind the Mandalorian and turned your body to protect yourself and the two children from any harm.

"Dern," he said, holding up his hand in a greeting to the hulking figure in the doorframe of the inn. "Thank you for agreeing to house us. It's... Greatly appreciated."

"I'm always happy to help you after what you did for me all those years ago," the one called Dern said. He finally stepped into the light. A Devaronian man smiled down at you and you tried your best to not cower from him. He towered over the Mandalorian, who was already tall compared to you, and you had to crane your neck to see him.

"Don't mention it," Mando grumbled. "Really."

The Devaronian roared with laughter and slapped his hand on Mando's backplate hard enough to send him stumbling forward. He then approached you and you squeaked, holding the child tight enough to make him give a sharp cry.

"What's this?" he cooed, giving you a quick once over. "You have two little ones now, Mando? The green one Xi'an's or something?"

"Neither are mine," he said, sounding midly disgusted. You hoped that wasn't directed towards you. "I'm raising the one. The girl is a friend."

Friend. The word, you found, stung more than it should have. You were only that, you supposed. Patched him up a few times. He held your hair back when you got motion sickness on more than one occasion. You were the one he called for when he had a nightmare. He was the one you ran to when you first felt your baby kick - you had laughed when he called your baby aruett'ika when it stopped moving as soon as you managed to convince him to put his hands on your belly. Friend.

"Well, I'm always happy to give you shelter when you need it," he said, nodding in the Mandalorian's direction. "And as for her, I'm just happy to give shelter to anyone who can put up with you and not want to dump you in the Sarlacc pit."

You swore you heard Mando's eyes roll back into his head as he retrieved the bag from the rack on the speeder.

Dern held the door open for you and bowed when you entered. He waved one finger at the baby in your arms, who blew a tiny raspberry and made a mean face.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," he said, making a sweeping gesture at his living space.

You looked around, noting all the potentially soft places for you to lay and you sighed wistfully before making your way to a pile of cushions. The child wiggled out of your arms and plopped itself on a black cushion and babbled up at Mando, who gave a heavy sigh.

"I made supper," Dern offered. "Wasn't sure what guests you brought with you, so I made a bit of everything."

"Something with bones for the little one," Mando said.

"Anything that isn't fish," you said quietly, leaning back in the cushions. "It's been turning my stomach."

"Aren't you glad you didn't stay on Sorgan," Mando teased as Dern turned to the pot on the stove.

"Could have been making a fortune as a basket weaver," you hummed, pressing a hand to your belly. The baby had been restless all day and still hadn't settled and you shifted uncomfortably as they chose that moment to kick particularly hard.

"You okay?" Mando asked. He sounded worried and he leaned forward in his chair to get closer to you.

"Fine, fine," you murmured, "She's just jumpy."

"You think you're having a girl?" he asked, resting his elbows on his thighs.

"Omera thought I was having a girl, so it just sort of stuck," you replied with a shrug.

"Might be nice," he mused. He sounded distant, like he was thinking about something.

You wanted to ask him why, but Dern returned with two bowls of hot soup and a cup of broth for the child.

Mando gave an awkward cough and stood, taking the large bowl in both hands.

"Ah, forgive me, my friend," Dern said. "I have forgotten. A guest room is set up for you - please, eat there."

He nodded and thanked his host before he disappeared down the narrow hallway.

In the few weeks you'd been travelling, you realized you never saw him eat, never saw him take food into a room to eat. He must eat long after you and the baby go to bed. The thought broke your heart. How often did he wait for you to decide you were sleepy and go to bed so he could eat?

"So," Dern chuckled as he watched the baby slurp his broth, "You've been traveling with him long?"

You shook your head. "A month," you murmured. "He... saved me."

Dern nodded. You hoped he didn't ask anything else. It wasn't like it was hard for you to talk or make friends, like you imagined it potentially could be for Mando, but you really didn't want to consider the possibilities of all the stuff that could have happened to you had another hunter found you.

Would you be dead? Alive? You shuddered at your internal question - would you still have your baby?

"See?" Dern said, "Man's got a good head on his shoulders."

You nodded absently in agreement. You'd been told that by Cara before, and by a man named Greef Karga only a week or so prior when he realized you were sticking around for a while. The Mandalorian made an impact. He killed with such an acute precision and his skills as a bounty hunter were unmatched. Yet he was gentle in ways that you don't think anyone would believe if you told them.

You, the child, and the Devaronian ate in silence. You hefted yourself off the cushion and walked to the sink basin. Your host got up to follow you into the kitchen.

You were aware of his proximity to you as you took a sponge to wash your dish. He watched you with dark eyes and you felt your pulse rise in fear.

"If you're just a friend, who's child is it you carry?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

"My ex husband," you said. Then you added dryly, "He's dead."

It was a bold faced lie and you hoped he wouldn't notice and leave you alone. No such luck.

"Perhaps then you need some... Assistance with raising your bundle."

Dern trailed a broad hand up your arm and you shied away from his touch. Goosebumps broke out on your skin, but the act of touching at all made your flesh crawl.

"I'll manage," you said firmly. You heard the quiver in your voice and you kicked yourself.

"Are you sure?" Dern didn't even wait for you to reply. He reached a hand over and roughly grabbed your belly. He dug his nails into your arm and spun you so he had you pinned against the counter. One of the drawer pulls bit into your back. His hands gripped you tight enough to bruise your skin.

"She's sure," came a gruff voice from behind you.

Mando was standing there, bowl in hand, helmet firmly back in place. You could tell from his body language that he was upset.

Dern took a step back, his hands raised in surrender.

"Come here," Mando ordered, nodding at you. You walked over to stand by him, your legs shaking bad enough that he wrapped a hand around your waist to steady you.

"She's going to bed," Mando said, keeping his eyes steady on Dern. "Got it? If I find out you did this again, I'll reactivate your tracking beacon. I know quite a few people looking for you."

"Whatever," he grunted, turning to the dishes.

Mando took you down the hall to the guest room, making sure to not frighten you.

Once inside the bedroom, you let out a loud sob and a shaky breath. You leaned heavily against the door and pressed your hand to your mouth to calm yourself.

"Breathe," he whispered, his strong hands on your shoulders the only thing keeping you upright.

"Just breathe. I've got you, okay?"

You nodded quickly and tried to even out your breathing so you wouldn't hyperventilate.

"Can I hug you?" Mando murmured. "Is that okay?"

You thought for a minute and then nodded. No one had ever asked if they could touch you before...

He gently wrapped his arms around you and held you. His gloves were warm as they spread across your back. You expected the chest of his beskar to be cold, but it felt warm against your belly.

"You're safe," he promised, the modulator of his helmet made it come out in a whisper. "No one is going to touch you unless you let them first. Just breathe. I'm here."

You took a few more gulping breaths and relaxed into his arms, one hand gripping the fabric between his arm guards. You didn't think a metal man would give great hugs, but you also didn't think there was a way out of your marriage. You've been known to be wrong before.

There was a gentle flutter in your belly and you laughed, wiping your cheeks. "It's okay, little one..."

Mando pulled away from the hug slightly and looked down at where your hand rested on your stomach. He made a slight move to pull away but you grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand beside yours.

"I still can't feel it," he said softly but with as much seriousness as he could muster, "Aruett'ika."

You laughed louder than you had in months.

TAGLIST (ask to be tagged!): @miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell

#my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #no use of y/n

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years ago

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A Life Wasted

Azula Week Day 1: Childhood

Summary: Azula has trouble coming to terms with that she didn’t really have a childhood and struggles to see a future for herself.

She is surprised to get as many visitors as she does, Azula could have sworn that they would stick her in this horrid place and forget all about her, leaving her to her own nightmares and personal horrors. Somehow they don’t forget her. Somehow they find it within themselves to pay her visits now and then. Sometimes they come with specially prepared meals other times they come only with stories and company.

Azula wishes that she could appreciate it. Wishes that she could push her resentment aside. She wishes that they would just leave her to suffer and fester in her shame alone. It is bad enough having them around to see her like this, to make their judgments. But they have to bestow her with stories about how great the outside world is, about how they have all accomplished so much.

They do so until she one day snaps at them to stop bringing her news. She expects them to stay away from then on out. Instead they come back with tales from the past.

TyLee’s childhood is bathed in shades of pink. She was never alone and was constantly at the tailend of a braid chain. She always speaks of laugher and gossip and trips to the berry fields. Of coming home with smeared cheeks and stained clothes.

Mai’s childhood was more subdued, lonely. But when her parents came home it was warm. They would take her onto their laps and read her stories about dragons and courageous Fire Nation warriors until she begged for a blade of her own.

Katara and Sokka both have frosty and cold childhoods but in the most dreamy way. They both recount different aspects. Sokka tells her about fishing and hunting trips with his father; about adrenaline spikes and hiking around glaciers. While Katara paints a more domestic image in her mind; the smell of cooking fish and firepit smoke. Of heavy coats and fur rugs.

Toph’s childhood was sheltered but exciting when she could sneak away. It was full of adventure and mess. Of tussling with the boys in alleyways and knocking on strangers’ doors and running before they can get to the door.

Aang’s was serene. Otherworldly and mystifying. His childhood makes her stomach ache with longing the most. He speaks of how all of the children were raised side by side. Every adult was a mother and a father to all of them and each child was a sibling to the next child over. Before he found out that he was the Avatar he was never alone. He would munch on pastries and and have glider races.

And Zuko’s...she knows about Zuko’s and she doesn’t want to hear anything of it. It is as unforgiving as her own but in such a different way.

She wishes that she could have had a childhood. Maybe she wouldn’t be this way if she did, if she had been allowed to be a child for just a few years before being thrust into the war machine. Maybe if she had hours of running wildly through the palace garden instead of hours of training and katas she would be less of a weapon and more of a human being.

She stares at her palms, trying to recall even one moment where she had been a child. Just one that isn’t tainted by undertones of political speak and warfare. But she can’t find even one. Even her fondest childhood memories are either followed by something awful or had war in the background.

On one occasion, a golden day on Ember Island--she had convinced Zuko to help her swipe some mangos from a fruit cart just to test their skills. They had snatched one and darted off to climb a palm tree and hide as they tasted their prize. Father found them with sticky mango juice smeared around their mouths and dripping down their chin. That evening they were dirty, disgusting miscreants and he was ashamed to be their father. That night there was no trip to the beach to collect shells and build sand castles, they were locked in their rooms listening to mother and father argue; “they’re children, Ozai! Children do that stuff, let them have fun!” “They have duties to their nation, they are better than other children.” Zuko blamed her for getting them in trouble with her stupid idea and she blamed him for talking too loud and getting them caught.

On another occasion she found herself sitting at the edge of the turtle-duck pond, kicking her feet at the shimmering waters, the sun reflecting on its surface. In one had she held a calligraphy brush which she was using to paint random doodles on her legs. In the other she held a loaf of bread which she was biting into, paying little mind to where she was nibbling on it. She was quite and out of the way so no one paid her any mind. Which is probably why they so openly discussed how triumphantly they had slaughtered Earth Kingdoms soldiers on the battlefield.

Such are the types of memories her childhood is sprinkled with. And the more she thinks on it, the more she realizes how truly and deeply imprinted the war is on her mind. She doesn’t think that she knows anything else but battles and punishments.

She remembers when her mother stopped loving her. When the woman realized that her baby had already been claimed by propaganda and a sense of patriotic superiority. Azula wishes that the woman would have done something more to keep her from succumbing. From falling so deep into the indoctrination.

She remembers when mother had told her that Lu-Ten had died. That was the night that mother stopped loving her. When mother realized--before anyone else--that something was very wrong with her. That was the night when her father had told her just how proud he was of her.

She was finally the weapon he had been craving.

And now she is broken. The remnants of a once mighty war machine. And in a world without war, she doesn’t have much use. She supposes that it is just as well that she is stuck in this institution. She can’t see herself doing anything anyways. Can’t seem to think up any other purpose for herself.

They mistake her low for recovery. She no longer yells and screams and demands that Zuko and his friends be sent away. She is simply indifferent, it doesn’t matter if they are there or if they aren’t. It doesn’t matter if their happy childhood tales make her tummy tingle with sorrow and longing. Nothing matters. She doesn’t matter.

She had wasted her childhood. Now she is wasting her adolescence. Her life is a waste…

Zuko grips her shoulder. Her blank eyes don’t lift from her palms. Not until he helps her stand and leads her out of the institution. She questions his decision but decides that she can’t be bothered to stir up any trouble anyways, so his decision won’t really leave an impact either way.

“I think that it’ll be good for you to get some fresh air.” Zuko comments. “We’re planning on taking a trip to Kyoshi Island and I thought that you should come with us.”

She furrows her brows, “why would you think that?”

He shrugs. “I guess that I want us to both have a few memories that are just...nice.”

She doesn’t think that this is it.

“We can’t exactly make good childhood memories, but we can do this.”

Azula nods.

“I also thought that it would be good for you to start to...get back into the world so you don’t fall behind.”

“I already have.” She mumbles.

He gives her back a little rub. “You’re not too far behind. Nothing we can’t catch you up on. And besides, we’d like your input on certain things. There’s this new city in the making and we think that you’d be good at helping us plan and fine tune it. You’re good with details.”

“What does that have to do with Kyoshi Island?”

Zuko laughs, “nothing. Kyoshi Island is just going to be a break before we really get into it.”

“I’ve already had a break…”

His smile falters but only for a moment. “I guess that you have. But I’m talking about a real break, Azula. Something that could be fun for you if you’ll give it a try.”

She supposes that, at this point, she is willing to try anything to get rid of the despair and helplessness that has taken root within her soul. “It would help more if I can just have a look at this city. I need something important to do. Something that matters.”

“You will be doing something that matters on Kyoshi Island.”

“Oh.” She quirks a brow.

“You’ll get to have a good time and learn about some new cultures. And you’ll get to watch me struggle with awkwardness. The last time I was on Kyoshi Island I...did some things…”

“How is that important?”

“Because it’s about your health and you matter. You know that, right?”

“Important to who?”

He gives her a gentle hug. “Believe it or not, you’re important to me. And as soon as the others see that you’re not a completely mean and angry person…”

“I’m not angry.” She thinks that she has only ever been angry once, during the comet. Mostly she is just numb and unfeeling. Cold. And maybe that is worse than having a temper. At least a temper can be cooled…

“Trust me, this is going to be good for you. I can’t fix our childhood bet we can make something of the future.”

She doesn’t know if she believes him, but she would like to. At least she is out of that facility. At least she can get back to firebending and relish in freedoms to be rediscovered. He smiles again and she decides that the least she can do is humor him. Either nothing will change at all and she will continue on in her melancholy or he will be right and she will pave herself an adulthood that is warmer than her childhood ever was.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azulaweek2021 #Azula Week #Fanfiction

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

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“Babe, what are you doing?” You finished folding the top you were currently holding and placed it in to your suitcase before turning towards your boyfriend and observing the look of genuine curiosity on his face. Mark had just arrived home after his shift at the hospital; you had a feeling he must have been exhausted and you couldn’t blame him.

Since a few of his colleagues either called in sick or went on vacation this past week, he’s been working overtime and it was obvious the extra hours were taking a toll on his mental and physical health. But he was never one to complain and he sincerely loved being a nurse. Working in the medical field was one of the more tiresome occupations and so you understood that all he probably wanted to do was fall asleep. It was only 8:30 P.M., however, he would always go to bed as soon as he got home from work no matter what time it was.

Seeing you on the ground right outside of your closet, packing multiple pairs of your clothes away probably confused the hell out of him and he was most definitely not tired at all anymore. Sure, he came home wanting nothing more than to take a quick shower and go straight to bed with you wrapped tightly in his embrace, but now he had other plans.

“Packing.” He began to walk closer to where you were sitting and took his place next to you, his dumbfounded expression didn’t falter nor did it waver. You had to stifle back a laugh; you were confident he had an idea as to what you were doing, so you were well aware that your response wasn’t going to amuse him in any way.

“I can see that. Packing for what?”

“Girl’s trip.” Once you admitted your plans and the reason behind your packing, his look of confusion quickly turned in to that of a frown.

“I don’t remember us making plans to go somewhere. With who? Where are we going?”

“Not we Mark. Just Sophia, Riley, Julia and I.”

“Wait, what? Why? When? Where are you going? Why didn’t you tell me?” As much as you wanted to continue your packing, seeing his broken expression as he hesitantly reached for your clothes; as if he wanted to get you to stop tugged all but gently on your heartstrings.

“I told you a couple of days ago. Right after we finished—you know—“

“You mean to tell me, that you told me you planned on going on a trip with your friends after we finished making love? My head was obviously somewhere else—I was too busy in between your pretty thighs to even care about anything else but this beautiful body of yours—you did this on purpose babe. It’s as if you knew I would try to prevent you from going. I mean, you have every right to go and I’m not the kind of boyfriend to hold you back from having your fun and spending time with your friends, but any minute spent away from you feels like a fucking eternity and it’s sucks. I’m happiest whenever I’m with you and I’m sure you know it by now. No matter how shitty my day is at work, I put up with whatever life throws at me because I know I’m coming home to you. Now you’re leaving me all by myself for God knows how long—what am I going to do without you?”

When he first found you folding your clothes and sorting out your luggage, you found his curiosity extremely adorable. You expected this kind of reaction out of him; that’s just who Mark was. For someone who was only a few years away from reaching thirty, he could be such a big baby sometimes. However, that was a trait of your boyfriend’s that you admired the most about him. He was very sensitive; but that’s because he had one of the biggest hearts that anyone could own and he had a small amount of separation anxiety when it came to you.

It never bothered you though, it just showed that he loved and cared about you with his entire being. That information alone never failed to pull on your heartstrings. Seeing him so fragile right now; probably exhausted beyond belief after a long day yet on the verge of tears at the idea of being alone for a little while made you feel terrible. In the three years of your relationship, you never spent more than three days without each other. Wherever you went, Mark followed and vice versa. If you went to visit your family back home, he was right there next to you. If he went with his friends to an arcade, you would tag along even if gaming wasn’t your forte. A lot of your friends would jokingly refer to you and your boyfriend as magnets. The two of you stuck together like glue. You were never not together other than when either of you were at work.

Out of instinct and guilt for not informing him more about your plans, you crawled over to him and sat on his lap; wrapping your arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his jaw. He placed his face in the valley of your breasts and released a soft sigh. Mark was a firm believer in actions speaking louder than words. He would shower you with his love on a daily basis—he did almost every single thing for you. He loved being able to help you and support you in any way he possibly could. If you were tired from taking on more hours at your job; he would cook dinner of the both of you. He would also wash the dishes, do the laundry, sweep and mop your apartment and sometimes he would even prepare breakfast for you and pack your lunches.

Your boyfriend was just a very thoughtful and considerate human being. He was the definition of a gentleman and even if he would remind you that he loved you at least five times a day, you could tell by his many sacrifices; you were his entire world. Hearing him confess how bothered the news of the trip made him only caused you to regret not putting more thought in to your decision. What started off as a joke just to see what kind of reaction you would illicit out of him was now something so much bigger; something that could have been prevented.

“It’s only a week Mark—“

“A week? An entire week? Seriously y/n? How long have you been planning this for and why do you seem so okay with the thought of being away from me?”

“Well, I was actually the last one to know. The girls didn’t tell me until the same night I told you. They just assumed I wasn’t going to go because they all know I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t. God, we sound so pathetic. Sophia is joining the peace core in July, so she wants to spend as much time with us before she has to go away for two years. I wouldn’t go if that wasn’t the reason why they planned this entire trip. Jackson and Jinyoung seemed to take the news perfectly fine and I’ve heard that they are planning a trip of their own. I’m surprised that they didn’t reach out to you—“

“That’s because unlike them, I’m so far up your ass that I probably wouldn’t have any fun at all and it would be a waste of time and money if I were just moping the entire vacation. Plus, I don’t think I’d want to go with them anyway. The last time we went somewhere together, we almost got kicked out of a karaoke bar because Jackson’s dumb ass was being too loud. Humph, I’m really going to miss you. Damnit, what did you do to me? I never used to be this sappy before but here I am acting like it’s the end of the world since my girlfriend is going somewhere; probably going to have the time of her life with her friends while I do nothing but sit here like a loser until she gets back.”

You giggled softly at his words and beamed up at him; cupping his cheek with your palm before placing a few sweet kisses on his lips.

“We’re driving to Vegas—and luckily they already decided that it’s Riley whose in charge of getting us there so I will make sure to call you and text you whenever I get the chance. Trust me, I already tried to hint towards inviting you but they were quick to disagree. No boys on this trip—“

He pouted frustratingly once you said those words and wrapped his arms even tired around your sides. “Why not? I’m the best boyfriend out of our friend group let’s be honest here baby. The girls like me the most. Jackson talks too much and Jinyoung’s a petty asshole. I’m the quiet, mysterious and lighthearted boyfriend. I promise, you won’t even know that I’m there.”

You grazed your thumb against his cheek; trying your best to stifle back a laugh at his attempts to get you to reconsider. You were confident in the love your boyfriend had for you, but you weren’t sure how far he was willing to go in order to be with you at all times.

“Babe—“

“Fine, fine whatever. Go have your fun, you deserve it for all the hard work you had to suffer through in the last few weeks. But once you’re done putting away all your necessities, I want you on all fours. I need to fuck you tonight—no love making. I’m not going easy on you at all. I’m going to make sure your pussy is numb and your legs are jello once I’m done with you. Remember, five photos a day—make it ten. Two of the scenery, three of your gorgeous face I can never seem to take my eyes off of and five nudes. Oh, and I expect gifts. I want one of those five keychains and maybe a shirt that says I left my poor boyfriend home alone so that I could lose all my money playing slot machines—“

A breathy groan fell from his pretty lips as you elbowed him in his rib cage as your way to get him to stop talking. He was guilt tripping you and you’ve been with Mark long enough to know why he would do all that he did. You were also now very horny. It never failed to make you smile at an idiot knowing how soft spoken he was and how everyone around Mark assumed he must have been such a sweet, introverted guy. If only everyone knew just how much of a dominant, rough, animalistic and forceful man he was in the bedroom.

“That sounds like a great plan. Trust me my love, I’m going to miss you just as much as you’ll miss me. Before we do anything though, what are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Wish I was a girl. Now, take off your clothes and let me hit it from the back. Maybe I can fuck you so hard you won’t be able to move and I’ll have to nurse you back to health. Preferably with my dick.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 5 years ago

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Silence

theichabbieclub asked:

Geralt x Reader. Reader is hyper and talkative. One day Geralt has a bad day and takes it out on reader. He tells them that he wish they would be silent. They listen to him and stop talking n become shy. They don't say when they're hurt (emotional/physical). Reader ends up having a major anxiety attack. Geralt feels really guity. He tries to calm them down. They end up passing out in his arms. Their pulse is fast and their skin is clammy. He makes sure they don't fall and puts them to bed. Thx❤️

A/N Thank you for this request it was fun to write, though if I got anything medically wrong please let me know

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: violence, language, self-hatred, panic attack, angst

“Geralt look, wildflowers,” you gasped leaping off your horse and running towards the field. You couldn’t believe it was finally spring, after months of cold rides and attempting to pull your cloak around you a little tighter. The day had gotten off to a rough start, you and Geralt had been thrown out of your inn after someone reported feeling uncomfortable with a Witcher hanging around. Geralt had been a silent rage all morning, but you were just glad the world was warming up.

While you picked flowers, you missed the dark look and thinly veiled curses he was sending your way. You wrapped daisies around your wrists and wove lavender in your braids, reveling in the sun painting freckles on your skin once more. You flopped back, arms spread out wide and considered flattening angels in the grass but settled for sighing with delight. You would have laid there forever had Geralt not been waiting for you.

“Isn’t it gorgeous,” you sighed. “I mean springtime, and flowers, and sunshine. I was so sick of the cold but now I could just stay outside forever. I mean do we really need an inn, who cares what they think, right? I mean I don’t even like inns that much, I think we should stay out more often. Don’t you? Oh god, speaking of that-,”

“Do you ever shut up Y/N?” Geralt snarled. You closed your mouth slowly and stared at him. He had already turned away, Roach kicking up dust as he went. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes and the flowers you had picked wilting against your skin. Slowly you dropped them to the dirt rode and climbed onto your horse, sniffing softly.

The road was quiet after that, though there was so much you wanted to talk about. It had been years since anyone had asked you that question, you thought he didn’t mind. You knew he was quiet, but did he really hate it? A tear slipped from your eye when the prospect crossed your mind. He hated you. How long? How long had he wanted to get rid of you? How long had you annoyed him? You’d been hunting together for five years? How much of that had been thinly veiled attempts to get rid of you?

The thought of leaving crossed your mind, but you couldn’t bare it. You knew he hated you now, but you didn’t hate him, far from it. You had been dreaming about him for half of those years, dreaming of him staring at you fondly and kissing you softly. You couldn’t leave, no matter how much he wanted you gone. So, change was in order. Silent change.

You could do it, you could do anything if it made him happy.

So, you did.

Geralt didn’t notice at first. He knew he had hurt your feelings but you were never one to stay quiet for long, it’s why he kept you around. He loved the way your eyes widened at the sight of anything that you thought was remotely pretty, from wildflowers to the way ale glittered beneath rays of sun. And the way you described it so he couldn’t help but love it too. Yet, he had told you to shut up when you were doing just that, and now he couldn’t get you to talk.

“Did you notice the… pastries?” he attempted awkwardly, and you glanced at him over your roll before taking a silent bite. “They smelled good.” You hummed nonchalantly, cursing yourself as you did so. He was trying to cover up his dislike by mocking you, not exactly the most subtle way to tell you to go away, but you understood.

“I’m going to bed,” you declared as you stood, leaving a large portion of your dinner behind. You didn’t turn to witness the frown that had etched itself across his face, worried you would find a silent chant of victory instead.

The stairs were a heavy climb, his hatred weighing on your shoulders. Tears were harder to keep in these days, so as you wiped the heavy stream of saltwater you didn’t notice the three men who had gathered outside your door.

“You’re his whore, right?” one of them called, pulling your attention to the knives sheathed in their belt and the stench of liquor that hung in the air. You shook your head, trying to push past them but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the safety of your room. “You travel with him, what else are you good for?” You silently shrugged and reached for your blade, panic bubbling inside of you when you realized you had left it at the table. A solid fist connected with your side and you gasped in pain. It didn’t take long before you were on the ground, hands over your face as you struggled to avoid their drunken kicks. Your body ached and you longed to call out, but fear kept you silent. He would think you were weak, and then he was sure to leave you behind. A Witcher had no use for a weak, annoying girl. So, you endured their abuse until they got bored and wandered away. You could only thank the gods that they had not chosen to take other liberties. Whispering “whore” was different than treating you like one, although you weren’t entirely sure you didn’t deserve it.

Your muscles screamed as you dragged yourself to your room and fumbled with the doorknob before falling in. You considered staying there to bleed out, or at least pass out from exhaustion, but Geralt didn’t deserve to have to clean up your mess.

You made it to the bathroom and surveyed the damage. Not too much to your face which was good, but your stomach was a different story. At least on rib had suffered breakage and the normally pale skin was black and blue. One had taken a knife to your thigh, it was lucky they had only gotten one good hit in before the leader had chastised him. It was nothing a few stitches couldn’t solve, and the rest could be hidden by clothing. All except the busted lip you were currently trying to make up a story for, maybe falling into the bedpost? The real trick would be moving without a limp, but you could manage, you had managed a lot worse.

By the time the stitches were sewn, and you had wiped off the blood, covering everything else with a long sleeve you reserved for winter, the sun had long since set. Geralt was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. When you stepped out he glanced at you, and then he was out of the bed storming towards you. You backed away terrified. Had you missed something? Did the men brag to the bar about the little girl they had taught a lesson? But instead of yelling his hands caught your face and examined your lip with a rough thumb.

“What happened?”

“I tripped,” you muttered.

“Fuck you did.”

“Would you just trust me?” you snapped, ducking beneath his arm and climbing into bed, waiting with bated breath to see if he noticed the slight stiffness to your walk. He hadn’t, and only stared at you, confusion written all over his face.

It was hard to fall asleep that night your whole body was throbbing and the soft snores that you normally fell asleep to never came. You could feel his golden eyes trained on your, waiting for you to admit you weren’t sleeping and tell him what was going on.

“Y/N,” he whispered but you didn’t move. You couldn’t let him know you were weak, and anyway once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. The weeks of silence would finally boil over and he’d be annoyed all over again. It was best to just remain silent.

And that’s how it went, a sleepless night for the both of you, and by god were you exhausted. Between the mental beating of staying silent and the physical one that had happened the night previous it was a wonder you were able to eat your breakfast and climb onto your horse. He had offered you stay the dead and relax, but that wasn’t him. You knew he was just doing it for you, and so you insisted that you didn’t have time for such frivolities. His worry was engulfing now, wrapping around you, thick and suffocating.

He was going to find out, he probably already had.

Oh god he knew.

That’s why he suggested staying in town. You would take a nap and then he would slip out, abandoning you in this little town.

You had failed.

You hadn’t done anything but make it worse.

“Y/N,” he shouted, interrupting your thoughts and suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were short and quick as you gasped for air, clawing at your chest and then you were tumbling off your horse. “What’s wrong? Y/N what’s happening?”

He was pleading now, but you couldn’t bare to tell him, though you weren’t even sure you could. Your hands were trembling as you scrambled away from a very worried Geralt. In your fall you had snapped your stitches and blood was coating the leg of your pants, and his hand was pressing against the wound.

A shrill sound echoed in your ears and struggled to block it out with shaking hands, but it was all in your head. It kept getting louder and you felt tighter, like your lungs were expanding, threatening to break your ribcage if you didn’t exhale, but you couldn’t. You no longer knew how.

Someone was holding you, they were whispering into your ear but you could only feel their breath. You hadn’t realized you were moving until the smell of lavender and daises clogged your senses.

“Take a deep breath.” It was an order but you had no idea how you could hear it, they were miles away, yet you thought you could feel their arms wrapped around you. You did your best to listen, the inhale the wildflowers that had caused this whole mess, but it caught in your throat. “Breathe in and out. C’mon Y/N like this.” They were holding your shaking hands to their chest and you could feel the deep rise and fall of their chest, like waves enveloping the beach and then surging away. “There you go, nice and easy,” they coaxed and you nodded. Your face was wet with tears, but so was theirs. “Look, there’s some lavender, you were right it’s gorgeous, but you’ve got to open your eyes to see it. There you go,” he was whispering now, but everything was going fuzzy again. Golden eyes and purple flowers were the last thing you saw before the blood loss pulled you to sleep.

When you woke again you were in the same bed you had pretended to sleep in the night before. Geralt’s head was laying on the thick comforter, the snores you had so desperately craved filling your senses. You tried to sit up but your head spun and you crashed back down to the pillow.

“Y/N,” he whispered and you glanced him, mouth opening to thank him, to apologize, to say anything after the weeks you had spent silent, but his hatred forced them closed again. “No, don’t do that. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and he grabbed your hand tightly pulling it against his lips.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have told you to shut up, I never want you to shut up again.” He had tears in your eyes that you didn’t hesitate to wipe away.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Fuck, yes it is. You should never feel like that. God, someone beat you up and you didn’t feel like you could tell me about it. That’s worse, everything is worse when you’re not there smiling and telling me how wonderful it is. You have to promise you won’t ever listen to me again, I might die.” You smiled and pulled him in for a hug.

“I promise,” you whispered, finally letting the tears that you had been holding in fall. With tender fingers he wiped them away and you giggled softly. You pulled him into bed with you and as you fell back asleep you decided this was a silence you could get used to.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher angst #the witcher fluff #the witcher smut #geralt of rivia smut

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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part 2 to Complications (ao3 and tumblr)

“What do you mean you didn’t tell Wei Wuxian about it?” Nie Huaisang asked, feeling as if his eyebrows had just gone up as high as the clouds. “You tell Wei-xiong everything.”

Jiang Cheng scowled forbiddingly at him, but years of dealing with his da-ge’s much scarier version had made Nie Huaisang immune to any hint less than an outright “fuck off” – though it looked like Jiang Cheng was starting to consider that.

“You really do tell him everything, though,” Nie Huaisang protested. “Also, if you tell me to get lost, I will, and then who’ll rub your feet for you?”

“The maid,” Jiang Cheng said pointedly. “Whose job it is.”

Nie Huaisang sniffed. “Jiang-xiong, really! As if she’d be half as good as me.”

“At least I wouldn’t have to worry that she was volunteering to do it because of some undisclosed foot fetish.”

“I said you had pretty feet once.”

“First off, it was not once. Second, my ankles are swollen, I have calluses in places I never expected, and I’m pretty sure they stink,” Jiang Cheng growled. “They’re not pretty.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you can see them this late in the game.”

Jiang Cheng looked as if he was considering kicking Nie Huaisang in the head, so Nie Huaisang decided it was time to change the subject. The weight thing was a bit of a sensitive issue, since Jiang Cheng’s body had helpfully barely shown any evidence of the child he’d decided to keep until there was only a month or two left and then suddenly swell up in a vengeance; it was what had forced him to retreat off the field, claiming a flare-up of an old injury incurred during the fall of the Lotus Pier.

It was a damn good cover story, actually, which was why Nie Huaisang was constantly stunned at the fact that his brother had been the one to come up with it.

“Really, though,” he said. “Why not tell Wei-xiong? It’s not like he isn’t back now, even if he is off glorifying in his demonic cultivation instead of taking your position as leader of the Jiang clan forces.”

“He’s doing what he thinks is right,” Jiang Cheng said at once, because he always defended Wei Wuxian no matter what he did. “And anyway, his demonic cultivation is more effective –”

“Than your entire Jiang sect?” Nie Huaisang interjected, making clear his doubts on the subject. “My brother wrote to me about it; he said that that demonic cultivation of Wei-xiong is like a cannon – devastating when used correctly, but no match for sheer might in numbers.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell him, though,” Jiang Cheng said, and he suddenly looked tired. “He’s been trying so hard to help fight the Wens, with his demonic cultivation and everything, and he took – he takes everything really personally, you know? Mother asked him to look after me, and he seems to think that’s his only purpose in life now. It was bad enough with – with Wen Zhuliu. If he knew about this…”

Nie Huaisang nodded, sympathetic. Jiang Cheng had been suffering from mood swings the past few weeks, and in one particularly bad bout of them had confessed the entire painful story of the Lotus Pier and the immediate aftermath to Nie Huaisang. It’d been a bad night, and one in which Nie Huaisang had deeply wished he could offer some sort of alcohol or something as a remedy – the doctors had insisted on putting Jiang Cheng on strict diet, including a limitation on wine – but in the end he thought it had helped Jiang Cheng to talk about it.

Besides, Jiang Cheng was right about how sensitive Wei Wuxian could be.

“I’ll have to tell him eventually,” Jiang Cheng continued, looking a bit downcast. “Unlike most of the cultivation world, he knows I’m misaligned. It’s not like he’d believe I did the siring, and there’s no one else who it could have been…”

“Tell him it’s mine,” Nie Huaisang said, and grinned when Jiang Cheng gave him a look. “No, really! What a story that’d be, huh? Our Nie sect is protective of its children, so we would have gone through some really picturesque agony in deciding to let you claim it as a Jiang child –”

“Picturesque agony,” Jiang Cheng said, and he was aiming for judging but mostly coming off like he wanted to laugh. “What makes agony picturesque?”

“The fact that it’s theoretical,” Nie Huaisang said promptly, and that actually got a bark of laughter out of Jiang Cheng, as he’d hoped.

“Okay, go on,” he said, leaning back and giving Nie Huaisang an expectant look. “Your brother always says you’re good at making up stories that sound plausible. How could the brat have been yours? You weren’t even there.”

“Ah, but you’re not thinking of the right time!” Nie Huaisang said with a grin, holding up a finger. “The child was actually conceived earlier, back when we were at the indoctrination camp with the Qiongqi and everything; you and I sought comfort in each other’s arms –”

Jiang Cheng gave an incredulous snort.

“Shut up, it’s a romantic turn of phrase. Anyway, it was a spur of the moment thing, one time, and then next thing you know – child!”

“And when people other than Wei Wuxian start asking about how two men can have a child?”

Nie Huaisang lifted his fan up to his face and batted his eyelashes. “Well, Jiang-xiong, I am from Qinghe.”

“You’re an idiot is what you are. Not only are you not a woman in any way, the timelines don’t even work; those two incidents were too far apart. The brat’s not another Nezha.”

“Stop spoiling my fun. How am I supposed to get access to your pretty, pretty feet if you don’t let me have some ancestry with the baby?”

“I will kick you.”

“Maybe we’ve been secretly carrying on for years,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “In secret, of course, for – reasons that I will think of later. I went on a shopping trip a few weeks before everything happened; I could have swung down towards Yunmeng, and you could have come up on an overnight trip. You flew your sword to meet me in the middle, and we had a stolen night of passion –”

“We were literally engaged when we were younger,” Jiang Cheng said. “We wouldn’t need to steal anything.”

“We thought it was more romantic that way?”

“Try again.”

“Tough audience,” Nie Huaisang complained. “You know, most people aren’t this nitpicky about their porn…oh, I know! We got together during your time at the Cloud Recesses and were just on the verge of announcing that we wanted to resurrect our engagement when your father agreed to repudiate your sister’s; we thought it’d be rude to rub it into her face, so we decided to wait three years to tell everyone.”

“Three years?” Jiang Cheng frowned, doing the math. “Hmm. I guess that would work.”

“We would have just been nerving ourselves up to finally tell people,” Nie Huaisang said enthusiastically. “That’s why we agreed to meet! And there was wine, and moonlight, and things got out of hand, and next thing you know…”

“Aren’t you supposed to be good at porn?” Jiang Cheng complained. “What’s with all this ‘next thing you know’s?”

Nie Huaisang grinned at Jiang Cheng. “If you want me to tell you something spicy, Jiang-gege, you need only ask…”

“Never mind,” Jiang Cheng said hastily, his cheeks turning red at once. “And don’t call me gege in that tone of voice, you sound perverted.”

“As perverted as when I talk about your feet?”

Jiang Cheng really did try to kick him for that one.

“Ouch!” Nie Huaisang cried, playing it up even though Jiang Cheng had been slow enough that even he could have dodged if he’d made even half an effort, and anyway the kick itself was extremely light. “Jiang-xiong, don’t you know you’re supposed to wait until we’re married to start beating your wife?”

“Nie Huaisang…!”

Nie Huaisang couldn’t help it and started laughing.

“But no, really,” he said, wiping his eyes a moment later. “If you didn’t tell Wei-xiong, what does he think you’re doing here? Did you feed him the same ‘complications’ line as everyone else?”

“More or less,” Jiang Cheng said. “I told him I needed some time to go stabilize my qi, since I hadn’t had a moment to do it since my golden core was restored.”

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Nie Huaisang said, diverted by the idea of a good story. “You don’t know how Baosan Sanren brought it back, and whether it works exactly the same way – you said it even felt a little stronger than before, but too much strength all of a sudden can be bad, too. You don’t want to risk a qi deviation. Even a small one that could hurt your future potential.”

“That’s what I told him,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding. “I also asked if he could maybe consider looking into qi deviations more generally in the future, though I didn’t say why. He’s enough of a genius to come up with demonic cultivation; maybe he can do something about – about your family’s issue.”

Nie Huaisang’s heart softened. He didn’t think it was likely after countless generations of trying, but he appreciated that Jiang Cheng had thought of it. “You know my brother doesn’t expected to be paid back for helping you – either now, or back when you were still a child.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng said, groaning. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to, if I could. But he’s so self-sufficient! What can I possibly do for him?”

“Now you know what I go through every birthday,” Nie Huaisang told him. “See, this is why we should get married; that way we can suffer through the uncertainty together.”

“Get lost.”

“If you insist…”

“Get your hands back on my feet.”

Nie Huaisang grinned and turned back to his work. “How did Wei-xiong take it, anyway? He must have been worried.”

“He said he was going to try to find someone to consult with and ran off at once,” Jiang Cheng said, and now he was scowling again. “When what I meant was that he could use that to fill his time while he stayed at the Jiang camp to help lead it, instead of me having to owe your brother another favor.”

“Wei-xiong was raised to be a head disciple, not a sect leader,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “He thinks more about what’s right and what’s wrong than he does about what’s necessary, because in the end those decisions aren’t his to bear.”

Jiang Cheng was quiet for a while after that, clearly turning something over in his head. Nie Huaisang didn’t say anything, focusing instead of soothing his friend’s feet and asking the maids to bring them some more snacks, especially the painfully salty ones that Jiang Cheng had become so fond of.

“I still think my father wanted the sect to go to him,” he finally said.

There was no need to ask who.

“He’s not actually your father’s bastard,” Nie Huaisang said. He didn’t bother with assurances that Jiang Cheng would never believe; he had too much experience in being the worse half of a comparison for that. “So it wouldn’t have worked, anyway.”

“No, I mean – I think that if you and I weren’t already engaged when Wei Wuxian was found, if your brother hadn’t already made everyone treat me like a boy by then, I think my father would’ve set up a marriage between us.”

“Between you and Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang’s head hurt at the thought. “But you’re more like brothers than anything else!”

“He wouldn’t have known it then, would he? And that way Wei Wuxian would be the Sect Leader, even if his children would be named Jiang.”

“That’s really stupid,” Nie Huaisang said. “Even if you married him, shouldn’t you still be sect leader, and him first disciple? It’s not really the Jiang clan if it’s lead by someone with a different surname –”

Jiang Cheng started laughing. “No, no, it’s nothing,” he said when Nie Huaisang looked askance at him. “I keep forgetting you’re from Qinghe, where the only thing that matters is the saber. Yunmeng Jiang doesn’t allow women to inherit roles in the sect; that’s why I’m the heir, and not Jiang Yanli, and why the original plan was for one of my cousins to be the heir.”

“What? That’s so stupid. What if there’s a curse on the generation so that everyone bears only girls? Does the Jiang sect just fall over and die?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were starting to tear up from laughter, and he put his hand on his rounded belly to stabilize it. “I don’t know. That seems pretty unlikely, though, doesn’t it?”

“Unlikely my ass! Legend has it that it happened to one of my ancestors.”

“And everyone in the next generation was a girl?”

“Misaligned or otherwise, yeah. And shortly afterwards there was a whole thing with this one saber spirit deciding to possess a human body – it’s a long story, with lots of dead people; I’d tell it to you, but I can’t do it justice the way one of our clan storytellers would. You’ll just have to wait until we’re married.”

“We’re not getting married, Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng said, long-suffering.

“You still haven’t given me a good reason why not,” Nie Huaisang said, undeterred. “It’s all been bullshit ‘I can’t burden you like that’ sort of stuff, and I already told you I don’t care.”

“Do you want to be kicked again?”

“No, but I could negotiate being stepped on –”

“Nie Huaisang!”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #sangcheng #at least in implication #my fic #my fics #trans!JC #complications #yes WWX got the wrong idea entirely

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 1. Back Into The Field

Intro: Picking up a few months on from the events of Stark Spangled Man, Katie finds herself on desk bound duty following a disciplinary for ignoring Fury’s orders. But when she’s finally released, and disaster strikes on the first mission she’s run in months, she kinda wishes she’d stayed there.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of blood, injury, angst and a minor character death.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go. A relaunch of SSB thanks to my other blog being flagged. For those of you who are new, welcome! I hope you enjoy. And to all you current Stark Spangled Readers, welcome back, You might spot a few subtle differences as we go through, as things I’m not happy with have been rewritten but don’t worry, nothing will impact the mine lines in the hot mess that is Stark and Rogers.

As always, please leave your comments or send me messages, asks, anything. I love you all!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

March 2013.

Any doctor would cry if they visited SHIELD; the caffeine and alcohol intake of pretty much every worker there would way exceed a dose construed to be healthy. Mind you, if you asked any agent whether they’d give up coffee or alcohol, they’d say alcohol in a heartbeat.

Well, most of them.

Katie couldn’t imagine surviving without an ice cold beer on a hot summer’s day, but she also didn’t function until she had her morning cup of Joe. It was a tough choice to make.

Not today though, she needed coffee. And lots of it. After ‘going rogue’ to chase the Mandarin with her brother, month’s later Fury was still pissed and as such was basically giving her the most boring thing he could think of- working through piles of mission reports to analyse and cross reference with others to pick up on common threads .To be honest, she didn’t mind it too much. After the excitement of the festive period she had welcomed a relatively quiet return to work, and didn’t particularly give a shit what Fury thought about her either.

She circling a part of the hard copy of the report she was working on with highlighter pen, before glancing back at her computer screen to cut and paste it into the Scrapbook App she used to trace trends with, letting out a groan. Who was she kidding? Desk duty sucked ass.

*****

Steve’s morning wasn’t going much better.

Whilst he wasn’t desk bound, after a particularly gruelling Ops Training session during which one of the newest kids suffered a broken nose after colliding painfully with a stray shock baton, he was almost wishing he was. Following a quick debrief, he checked his schedule on his phone and found he was free now for the rest of the day so he showered and headed up to find Katie. He found her in her office, paper in her hand as she stared at her computer screen, eyes narrowed. Steve watched her for a moment, taking in the way her nose crinkled as she read something, her bottom lip being dragged under her top teeth as she continued her work, completely unaware he was there. With a groan she dropped the notes she’d been holding to the desk and ran her hand through her dark hair.

Steve felt he was interrupting something, even though he knew he wasn’t, but he also didn’t want to appear like he’d been watching her either, which he totally had. So he gave a little cough and, as she turned round, her pretty face cracking into a smile which he returned.

“Hey! How was training?”

“Don’t ask.” He let out a snort.

“That bad huh?”

“In a fashion.” He nodded, leaning on the door frame. “You had lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna come get some?”

She nodded instantly “God yes. Can we get FroYo after?”

“Yeah but don’t let me pile it with all that crap this time!” he shot her his best playfully disapproving look as he remembered his first trip the Frozen Yoghurt stall. He had loaded his with all sorts of different things and the result had been beyond foul.

Katie gave a laugh and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on. Standing up straight, he moved to allow her to step through the door and followed her to the elevator.

“Stick to chocolate chip, mint and cookie dough.” She said, stepping into it. “Trust me.”

They strode across the foyer and into the early spring sun. Katie pulled her jacket tighter around herself as they crossed the street, shivering a little in the cool breeze.

“How are you just wearing a shirt?” she looked at Steve as he fell into step besides her, making sure he was on the side nearest the road. He noticed that she’d long since given up chiding him on this old fashioned habit after he had revealed it was something he used to do for his mom too, and Bucky’s younger sister. In fact, today, he swore he saw something that looked like a soft smile flicker on her lips when he positioned himself on her left, but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone.

“It’s not too bad.” He grinned. “I’ve been through worse.” He opened the door to the Deli for her and followed her in as they took their place in the queue. After a moment or two he became aware that she was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, turning to her exasperatedly. Katie couldn’t help but grin, she enjoyed winding the usually mild mannered man up

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look with a beard. And with shorter hair.” she mused, causing the Captain to roll his eyes.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What the hair cut or the beard?”

“Neither.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard.” he shook his head.

“No but, Steve Rogers could…”

She was impossible, but Steve couldn’t help but want to laugh. This playfulness was the thing that he enjoyed the most, how she could just treat him like any other punk she knew.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re exhausting?” he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his face as she stepped forward in the queue.

“Yeah, you.” she spun round to face him, grinning “Several times. But you still come back for more.”

“Well I have the distinct impression if I didn’t you’d hunt me down anyway”

They ordered and ate their lunch, Steve filling her in on the ops drill and after Fro-Yo they made arrangements to slob out that evening at his with a film. They walked back to the Triskellion where Katie headed back to her office to continue sifting through the Mount Everest of reports she had to do. As with anything, once she got the bit between her teeth, she completely zoned out. It was only when she heard a gabble of voices all bidding each other goodbye that she looked up from her work. It was dark outside, and past six.

“Shit.” she groaned as the realisation washed over her. She was supposed to be at Steve’s for half past. She clicked to save her work whilst calling him at the same time, phone sandwiched between her cheek and shoulder.

“So…I’m running late.” She apologised the instant he answered. He chuckled.

“I thought that you said the one good thing about being confined to desk duties was that you set the hours.”

“Yeah, well I got caught up in something, but I’m leaving now. Do you want me to grab pizza on the way?”

“Sounds good, not Chicago Style though. I’m hankering for a proper piece of pie.”

“God you’re such a New Yorker.” She rolled her eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His voice took on a mock hurt tone and she could imagine him pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Hmmm, I’m undecided. Right, I’m leaving now. See you soon.”

“Drive safe.”

“What are you my dad?” she snorted at his stern instruction.

“Old enough to be.” he shot back.

“Touche.” she sniggered, cutting the call

*******

“Boring New York style for Mr S Rogers…” she spoke into the intercom at the main door to Steve’s apartment complex and he buzzed her in. By the time she’d climbed the stairs to his floor he was waiting, leaning on the door frame.

“Bout time.” He muttered, taking the boxes off her “Was about to send a search party.”

“Mario’s was packed.” Katie said, kicking off her sneakers and heading straight through to his kitchen to grab a beer out of his fridge without waiting for him to offer, knowing he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to.

Steve headed into the living room, depositing the thee boxes on the coffee table before he sank onto the couch and reached straight in for one of the pepperoni slices. A few moments later Katie flopped down next to him, handing him a beer.

“What we ticking off the list tonight?” she asked.

“A Few Good Men.” he said, nodding at the TV where he had queued the movie up ready.

“Wait, did you manage to navigate that Android box all by yourself?” She looked at him and he sighed.

“I’m not completely useless ya know.”

“Jury’s out.” she teased, curling her legs up onto the sofa next to her.

They watched the movie. Steve got most of the references within it. He chuckled in the right places, and laughed out loud when Katie was unable to stop herself uttering the immortal line You can’t handle the truth. When the credits began to roll, Katie unfolded herself from where she had been sat and they launched into Steve’s favourite part of Movie Nights- the post film analysis.

“Who was the guy who played the colonel, Jessup?” he looked at her.

“Jack Nicholson. Amazing actor. He’s in a few on your list.”

“He was good. And I know he was supposed to be the good guy so to speak but Kaffee annoyed me a little. He was so arrogant.”

“He reminds me of Tony” Katie sniggered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything” Steve gave a little smirk and Katie shrugged.

“I get what you mean though. He is an ass, and it pisses me off a little the romance angle they take with him and Galloway. I mean, she’s portrayed as this strong woman, in the male dominated military woman and they still have to go there.”

“It does seem to be a tried and tested format.” Steve nodded, leaning back against the cushions on his couch “Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy wins girl over…even the movies I saw back in before I took a sub-zero nap were the same.”

“I suppose it appeals to the hopeless romantic in all of us.” Katie shrugged.

They continued to chat for a bit longer until Katie glanced at her watch, and seeing the time, decided to call it a night. Steve walked her down to her car, he always did without fail, another thing she had given up chiding him for and when he came back upstairs and got in the shower, he found himself straying back to the first time he had seen her, the minute she had stepped into the light in the boxing gym and he’d found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

The more he stood there in the stream of hot water, thinking about her, the more he started to feel something…well…different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it that he found her attractive? Well of course he did. To be honest, he reckoned you’d have to be blind not to. And if he was totally honest, since he’d seen her the first time in that little boxing gym in New York he had noticed how pretty she was. She had the figure of the stars of his time. Hour glass waist, brunette hair, shapely ass and legs and quite large breasts considering she was so slim. But what did it for him were her eyes. Deep, sparkling emeralds that he could lose himself in quite happily. And that smile, that fucking smile that could make him stop in his tracks when she flashed it.

But it was more than just that, she was…well…just Katie.

It was strange, really, she reminded him so much of Peggy in some ways, but in others she was so different. Both were vivacious, smart, strong willed and beautiful. But where Peggy had been harsh, after a military upbringing, Katie had a softer edge to her. She was still ferocious at times, but she was a people person, and somehow knew exactly how to explain and understand what he was trying to say even when he struggled to himself. She made him feel at ease. With that in mind it wasn’t surprising they had grown so close. He could trust her and knew that she would do anything for him because she was a good person. And she made it so easy to be around, he didn’t feel a shred of awkwardness around her.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself a friend he could be as honest and open with again, one he would happily lay his life on the line for, not just out of a sense of duty but out of a sense of love and friendship.

Who you trying to kid, Rogers?

He knew his feelings went deeper than that. All those times he’d felt irritation at other men looking at her or touching her, all those times he’d looked at her and just wanted to smile because she was just her… the fear he had felt when he had known she was off chasing the Mandarin and he wasn’t able to help…none of that was anything to do with mere friendship.

He leaned his forehead against the tiles of the shower cubicle and groaned. He was crushing on his best friend.

He was so fucked. *******

Katie’s desk arrest didn’t last much longer. Two weeks later she was catapulted back into the field, on what was supposed to be a simple op, simple by SHIELD standards, anyway. They had a request from the Cuban government – all very hush, hush, of course –to take down a drug lord who ran a cartel SHIELD had tangled with last year.

Katie, in her role as Mission Analyst, read the files and all the intel, pulled together a briefing and delivered it, answering questions that came her way from the team and then handed over to Steve when it was his turn to take the floor. He started issuing out his orders, and informed everyone that the three newest recruits would be joining them as it would be a fairly straight forward op to ease them into.

And it had been, for the most part, until one of those new recruits, Jack Adams, had frozen mid fire fight and as a consequence he’d taken three bullets to the chest. Which shouldn’t have been an issue given the armour they all wore. But when the man failed to get up, Katie knew there was something very, very wrong.

“Adams is down!” she loudly spoke into her radio as she took aim at the hostile responsible. As soon as she was sure the round she had let off had hit her target, she broke cover to get to Adams, as she was closest to him. She skidded to the floor, pressing her hand to his chest and her other reached to his face, turning it to look at her.

“I got you, Adams, look at me.” she urged gently, her hand warm, wet and slick with the young man’s blood. Steve dropped besides her and she turned to face him.

“Armour piercing rounds.” She shook her head. “Steve, I can’t stop the bleeding.” Her tone left the Captain in no doubt as to how worried she was and he looked around frantically for help.

“Medic, NOW! We need emergency evac…”

“Stay with us, Jack.” Katie reached into her belt and retrieved a tab of morphine as he young man’s hand gripped her other whilst she administered the pain relief.

“Son, you’re gonna be fine.” Steve spoke and Adams’ horrified eyes turned to Steve. The soldier swallowed, fighting to keep his face calm. He’d seen that expression so many times on the battle field, the one that told him the man who lay injured knew he was injured beyond repair, that there was nothing to be done for him. But this was now seventy years into the future, medical science had worked so many wonders since then, they had to be able to do something, right?

“RUMLOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” Katie screamed, her tone frantic.

“Still got hostiles on us!” Rumlow replied over the coms. “Evans has taken four down but they’re approaching from the right! We need to cover the medics in and now you’re down there…”

Steve instantly looked round before he looked back at Katie “We’ll have to take him ourselves”

She bit her lip, looking at the young man, then up to Steve again. Everything in their training told them not to move casualties, but Steve knew if they stayed here he was going to bleed out. Katie seemed to come to the same conclusion and she nodded.

“Alright. Brock, we’re coming to you. Have the medics prep the bay on the jet.. Evans, we need top cover.”

“Roger, Cap…”

“Jack, we’re gonna move you now.” Katie looked at him, her voice calm and level as besides her, Steve moved to take the injured man into a lift over his shoulder. Once he had him positioned, he gave a small jerk of his head and Katie picked up his shield in one hand, and her pistol in the other as they broke cover, sprinting across the front of the industrial yard towards the jet. In the corner of his eye, Steve spotted two hostiles moving but before he could shout a warning, Katie had fired off two shots, the thumps and lack of returning fire meaning each bullet had hit its target. Soon they were joined by Rumlow and Rollins who flanked them up the ramp where Katie dropped Steve’s shield to the floor with a clang and offered her hand back to Adams as Steve placed him gently on the stretcher.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Katie soothed him as the medics bustled around, her eyes glancing up every so often to watch what they were doing.

“Can you tell my mom I love her and, and my dad.” Adams was mumbling now and Katie shook her head.

“You can tell them yourself.” She told him fiercely. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re locked down outside, local authorities are handling it now.” Rumlow informed Steve who had stepped back from where Katie was knelt by the injured man. “How is he?”

Steve turned to Rumlow, shaking his head sadly. “Not good. He lost a lot of blood.”

At that point Katie suddenly drew back slightly, looking at the hand held in hers, before she glanced at the medic who was sadly shaking his head. Katie’s shoulders slumped as her eyes closed, face screwing up into a pained expression and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger as he realised that the young man had lost his final fight.

“Shit.” Rumlow muttered.

“Radio base” Steve turned to Rumlow his voice soft “Let’s get him home.”

*******

Writing mission reports wasn’t Katie’s favourite thing to do, but this one was awful. So she’d treated it like ripping off a band aid, and after a horrific night’s sleep, she’d been at the Triskelion early to get it done. As a result it was little after ten am, she was done for the day and was about to head home until she heard a familiar voice.

“Eat me…eat me…” The voice was accompanied by a bag from her favourite bakery, which was hovering in the space between the door to the office and the frame, before Clint Barton’s head poked round the side, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey!” She beamed at her friend as he dropped a cup holder containing two coffees and the bag onto her desk before taking a seat, scooting the wheeled chair over the floor towards her.

“Heard you had a rough time of it yesterday so I brought donuts and almond croissants. And coffee.”

“Hawkeye, you are a godsend.” Katie smiled, taking a large drink and leaning back, closing her eyes.

“That the first time you’ve lost a man on a mission?” Clint asked.

“Other than Coulson.” she shrugged. “Shit, Adams was twenty-three Clint. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

Clint watched as she rubbed at her temple before reaching into the bag and pulling out an almond croissant. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, it must have at least been before the mission.

“How’s Cap taken it?”

“On the outside he seems okay, but I know he blames himself. Keeps saying he shouldn’t have taken him.” Katie shrugged “He’s gone with Fury to see Adams’ parents. Rather him than me.”

“This job is hard.” Clint said after a moment or two pause. “We fight to keep everyone safe, but y’know, sometimes not everyone makes it. Thing is, if we can’t find a way to deal with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved at all.”

“You mean like Collateral damage?” she snorted, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that everyone one of us that are out in the field know the risks Nova, hell last year 7 of us took on a horde of Aliens in New York. For hours we fought them, and did any of us give a second thought to our own safety? No, because that’s what we do.”

His words made sense. She knew they did, but that didn’t stop the feeling in her stomach that if she had done her research more, maybe she could have spotted something that would have told them about the armour piercing rounds.

*******

Adams’ parents already knew he was dead. Fury had the local authorities call ahead, common practice now, but still, Steve found himself sat on their couch, talking, informing them all about their son’s last moments. They hadn’t shouted, hadn’t screamed or blamed him. Instead, they’d thanked him for what he had done and for bringing him back so they could hold a proper burial.

By the time he got back to base, he was exhausted.

“Here.” Fury handed him a glass of scotch from the bottle he had pulled out of his desk. Steve took it, dropping onto one of the sofas at the side of the large office, Fury settling into the other. Steve knew the drink couldn’t get him drunk, but he liked the momentary buzz he got that lasted all of sixty seconds post sip, and the comforting burn it gave when he swallowed.

The pair of them sat in silence for a few moments before Fury sat forward, his eye fixed on Steve.

“Ever done that before, a death message?” he asked.

“Can’t say I have. Wasn’t really my job back in the day.” Steve shrugged, undoing his tie and popping the top button of his dress shirt.

“Worst part of the job. Doesn’t matter how many times you do it, never gets any easier.” Fury ran his hand over his face, and it struck Steve how tired his boss actually looked.

“Yeah, it isn’t exactly up there with my favourite thing to do.” Steve rolled his tie up and shoved it into the pocket of his old Army uniform pants.

“How’s Nova?” Fury asked.

“She’s upset.” Steve sighed “But she’s strong, she’ll be okay. I’m gonna head over and see how she is later.”

“You two spend a lot of time together outside of work.” Fury commented, innocently enough but there was something in his tone, something that was almost good natured accusation.

“Not a problem is it, Sir?” Steve asked, keeping his face straight.

“No, not at all.” Fury said “Why do you think I partnered you up in the first place? She’s a people person…”

“She’s a good friend.” Steve nodded “We get on.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury nodded. There was another moment’s pause before he spoke again. “There’s going to be a debrief with the Secretary of Defense tomorrow.”

Steve sighed “If they’re looking to blame someone, the buck stops with me. I should never have taken the kid.”

“Bullshit.” Fury said simply “I’ve read the reports. From what they say, he just froze.”

“He wasn’t experienced enough.”

“Taking risks is part of this job. It’s a dangerous gig.” Fury held his gaze. “It was a straight forward in and out job Captain. What happened was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident none the less. From the reports, neither you nor Stark could have done any more to save his life.”

Steve shrugged, the words were kind but didn’t help him feel any better.

Three glasses of scotch later, Steve shook the director’s hand and left the office, pulling out his phone. He didn’t want to appear like he was checking up on Katie, so he pinged her a text, dressing it up like it was him who needed to see her, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did. He was craving the normality she gave him.

Can I come over? I could do with seeing a friendly face

He read it a few times, before deciding it was casual enough before he sent it. The reply was almost instantaneous.

My door is always open for you. And I made Mac and Cheese. Plenty left.

He couldn’t help but smile. One of the best things about this new life was the food, and her Mac and Cheese was frankly his favourite thing to eat on the planet.

He changed into a pair of sweats and a hoody, hastily making his way to Katie’s penthouse and the smile she gave him when he walked into her place instantly made him feel at ease.

“Hey.” she crossed the space towards him and gave him a hug which he happily melted into, a hug they both needed.

“How did it go?” she asked, pulling away.

“As well as can be expected.” He sighed as he followed her into the kitchen, dropping into the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. “His mom broke down but they didn’t shout or yell.”

Katie flipped the lid off a beer and handed it to him. He took it, with a nod of thanks and pulled a large swig before he rest his hands on the counter, staring at the bottle.

He was brooding and blaming himself, Katie could tell, so she gently lay her hand on his, reaching over the counter.

“It wasn’t your fault Steve.” she spoke softly and he looked at her.

God, she did that all the time, knew what he was thinking. It gave him the unnerving impression that sometimes she could read his mind.

“I should have spotted that shooter.” he shook his head.

“I’m the fucking mission analyst.” she sighed. “I knew from last time those guys were packing, if I’d done more research, maybe I would have found out about the armour piercing rounds.”

“You can’t seriously blame yourself?” Steve’s frowned.

“Why not?” she shrugged sadly. She’d been over it a million times in her head that day and had come to the same conclusion every time. She should have spotted something, dug further. “I didn’t do my job.”

“Yes, you did.” he implored, his eyes locking onto hers “Your report clearly set out the layout, the learning from previous missions…Adams was just too inexperienced, I should never have taken him.”

There was a pause as the microwave pinged and Katie turned to look at it.

“You know, Clint made a good point before.” she reached in for the plate and the smell of the food made his stomach grumble again as she continued “This job, it’s hard. We fight to keep people safe but not everyone makes it back all the time…and if we can’t learn to live with that then maybe next time no one gets saved.”

“It feels like trading lives.” He took a deep breath as she placed the plate down in front of him “It’s just wrong.”

“I know.” She said, handing him some cutlery and sat down next to him.

“You eaten?” he asked, looking at her, suddenly aware she didn’t have a plate. She nodded.

“Couldn’t have waited until now, I’d have starved to death.” she said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” he replied, mouth full, instantly realising he had said the wrong thing as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes as he swallowed. That hadn’t been it at all, he was referring to the fact that she never actually stopped eating, despite her tiny frame she gave him a run for his money.

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re tiny.” he said, almost choking on his food through his protests.

“So now you’re making short jokes?” She shot back. Steve looked at her, dismayed she thought he was being mean to her but then he spotted the look in her eyes and rolled his own.

“Punk.”

“Jerk” she shot back.

It was the perfect way to escape the trauma and stress of the last few days. Once they had finished eating the two of them flopped down on her large L shape sofa, Steve’s legs extended along one side of the L shape, her legs tucked underneath her as she leaned against his shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of her shampoo…apple, he thought, along with her perfume. Her proximity was making his head buzz but he wasn’t about to move her, the contact was comforting. And it clearly was for her too as about an hour or so into the film- the first in the Lord of The Rings trilogy- he felt her head growing heavy. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were closed and, as he watched, her head slipped slightly. He shifted so that he could catch her gently, and grabbed a cushion from behind him, placing it against his leg. He manoeuvred her head so that she was lay down, gently brushing her hair off her face. She stirred slightly, snuggling down further into the cushion as he absentmindedly rubbed between her shoulder blades as her breathing grew gentle and even.

Steve stayed like that, engrossed in the film right to the end, surprisingly. He had enjoyed it. Katie hadn’t woken up, and he looked down debating whether or not to wake her or simply carry her through to her bedroom. In the end he decided to do neither, instead he reached for the remote as he sifted through to find something else to watch. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he was too comfy and too at ease. Picking one of his favourites, Casablanca, he settled down, getting himself comfy as he immersed himself in the familiar world of Rick’s Café Americain. At one point he felt his eyes growing heavy and he lay his head back, deciding to rest them for just a little while…

**** Katie was jolted awake, quite violently, and as she jerked into an upright position she saw exactly why. Steve was thrashing in his sleep, his face contorted in horror, small murmurs and whimpers slipping from his plump lips. She placed both her hands on his shoulder and shook him. Softly at first, then a bit stronger, trying to rouse him.

“Steve…” she gave him a harsher shake and his eyes flew open, wide in panic and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

Her soft voice filled Steve’s senses and, as he realised where he was and whose eyes were looking at him, he took a shaky breath and lay his head back.

Damned it, he’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare. On her sofa.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice croaky, “I err…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine.” Katie shook her head gently “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Whilst she was gone he leaned forward, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet touched the floor, wiping his clammy head with his hands, the memory still flashing through his dream.

Cold air was blasting his hair back…there was a hole in the side of the train…then a flash of light and Bucky flew straight through the hole. “BUCKY…” he yelled, grabbing onto the side of the train, the bar in one hand as he stretched to reach his friend with the other.

“Steve…” The voice was louder, but not loud enough. No, he had to get to Bucky…

But he was gone, Steve was grasping at nothing but air.

Just a dream, Katie had said. It was anything but…

She appeared back in the room with a glass of water and he thanked her as she passed it to him. He took a large gulp, swallowing and was relieved when his breathing began returning to normal.

“You ok?” she asked, kindly as her hand gently knotted into his, her concern evident.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” he nodded softly “I’ve not had one for a while.”

“Understandable with what’s happened. Wanna tell me what it was about?”

“It was Bucky.” he swallowed thickly “I was replaying the moment he fell. The moment he plummeted to his death from that Hydra train and I didn’t save him.”

Katie stayed silent for a moment before her hand curled round Steve’s shoulder and she pulled him to her, causing him to lay his head on her shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have done more” The guilt ate Steve up every day, that he had survived. Why had he deserved that any more than Bucky?

“How?” she said again. “How could you have done anymore?”

"I should have gone after him.” he said quietly.

“What would’ve changed if you had?” Katie asked. “There’s no way he could have survived that fall.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.“ He replied, "I should have gone after him, brought him home, done something.”

Katie remained quiet, her hand gently running through his hair which was nice, far too nice. He took a deep breath and sat up moving away from her touch.

"What time is it?”

“Nearly six in the morning” Katie glanced at her watch.

“You’re kidding?” Steve snorted.

“Nope. You want some coffee?” she stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Yeah if that’s ok.” he replied, following her to the kitchen. From her body language he could tell she was rolling her eyes, even if she wasn’t facing him.

“I don’t know if your Ma ever told you, but it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.”

“And as you know, I’m useless with women.” he sat down at the barstool on the breakfast bar. He watched her, but he didn’t say anything as she bustled about, throwing some bread in the toaster and then went to the fridge for the butter, marmalade and jam, sliding them onto the island. At that point Steve held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare, similar to the ones Peggy used to give him, the look that could stop him in his tracks it was that stern.

“Shut up.” she poured them both a cup of the coffee before adding milk and a spoon of sugar to each, passing one to him. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before sliding it over to him and adding more bread to the machine.

His stomach rumbled and he gave in, smearing butter over his toast. He eyed the jam curiously. He’d had marmalade before but…

He looked at Katie and she nodded. “It’s good.”

So he added some, and after a bite he concluded she was right, and nodded in agreement. Once the next round of toast was done she sat next to him.

“So, when did I fall asleep.” she asked, swallowing her food.

“About an hour into the film.”

She shook her head “What an ass…”

“It wasn’t a problem.” He replied honestly as he took a bite of his breakfast. “To be honest I enjoyed it.”

“What, me drooling on your leg?”

He swallowed, his eyes wide “I meant the film.”

“I know.” she smirked.

***** Chapter 2

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #relaunch #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #katie stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

Text

The MILFnevka AU

Once again something that was brainstormed en masse on the GG fanworks server.

I was... very much spearheading this one, but I dragged in @professorsparklepants for a lot, because Anevka, as well as input from @fenerismoon, @purronronner, @gelpenss, and @whirlibird. The original conversation took place mid-September of 2019.

AU where Tarvek's side of the family squeezed in an extra generation or so.

Aaronev was still Lu's generation, but he had Anevka young, and she was an only child who was already an adult by the time Lu disappeared. As a result, Aaronev let her married before she ended up in the machine (because he wasn’t desperate yet), and he couldn't risk drawing the attention by the time Agatha’s gen is being born.

So instead of being Tarvek's SISTER, she's his MOM.

Anevka formed her own faction, separate from the Aaronev and vaguely aligned with Terabithia’s.

She insisted Martellus and his branch hang out with Tarvek because being an only child is lonely, and also it keeps Tarvek out of his grandfather's sights and vague plans of body-hopping.

She is a Protective Momma who is a little TOO down with murdering anyone who threatens her child.

Agatha: you're just going to listen to your evil mom? Because no offense but that's worked out really bad for me so far. Tarvek: She's not EVIL, just... Valois... anyway the Baron knows what she's like and mostly he just rolls his eyes and tries to keep her away from Queen DuPree.

Anevka is definitely the mom that uses her position as mother of the king/heir to stockpile as much power as possible and control everything behind the scenes. Tarvek is currently trying to undermine this and wrestle back control as secretly as possible.

Wine mom with eighty hidden stabbing implements.

When Agatha is discovered, Anevka still kills her dad, but it's not like she can steal Agatha's voice in this AU, so she just settles for aggressively matchmaking her with Tarvek.

Anevka's managed to rein her dad in, mostly, because she's a powerful spark with an Undefined Husband who nonetheless has enough good connections to cause a ruckus if he finds out about the Summoning Throne, and he's too sparky to wasp.

This did lead to his early death and no siblings for Tarvek, but not before Anevka managed to fight her dad down to ONLY trying to throne the girls who were legitimately likely to be Agatha.

And then Agatha's in Sturmhalten and Anevka's just like. Well. Time for plan A. And kills her dad.

Regarding Gil... She kinda wants to pat him on the head and tell him to try harder.

I'm not wholly convinced Tarvek got kicked off of Castle Wulfenbach, depending on how Anevka married and decided to approach things. She might have warned Tarvek to AVOID stealing information, even, if she was worried about Aaronev trying to do something.

Less "do whatever you can to help us gain power" and more "do whatever you can to stay out of Sturmhalten."

Tarvek: My mom is a bitch and I love her so much

Klaus hates it when Anevka comes to CW because she acts like some unholy cross between Lucrezia, Terabithia, and Zantabraxus and she keeps hitting on his top enforcers but with knives and pretty dresses.

Unstoppable Divorce energies

Anevka: Do you like my new dress? Klaus: Your bodice is far too low cut, please stop visiting me dressed like my ex. I'm the same age as your father. Anevka: I know, it's really fun to watch you suffer as you fail to resist the urge to tell me to put on a sweater.

Tarvek: MOTHER YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME IN FRONT OF ALL MY FRIENDS PLEASE STOP HITTING ON THE BARON AURGH. Anevka: I'm not HITTING on him, I'm trying to make his face turn puce. Anevka: I am, however, hitting on Von Pinn. She looks like she knows how to have fun. Tarvek: MOTHER.

Tarvek, to Gil: the baron can't be your dad, he's old enough to be your grandfather. Gil: He’s at a solid age for both.

Anevka and Klaus have zero actual attraction to each other but there's definitely A Dynamic that's eerily reminiscent of his relationship with Bang, with slightly less "I did a violence, be proud of me" and slightly more "I did a sexy and/or politics, be proud of me."

Tarvek: I have a problem. Gil: What's up? Tarvek: All of our friends want to fuck my mom. Zulenna: I don't. Tarvek: That's because she used to put you in time-out when we were five.

Anevka is prime Dangerous Widow material. She didn't actually kill her husband but a hell of a lot of people think she did.

Seffie thinks her Auntie 'Nevka is the COOLEST

Anevka having an intermittent fling with that "darlingly stupid young hero, Tryggvassen" makes me laugh way too hard and also dips into my nonsense love of Otharnevka.

At one point we did sidle over into “what if Single Father KB tho”

Like they met at some point on vacation while the kids were still kids, which does lose us the “Anevka aggressively ships her kid with Agatha” thing, so I’m not sticking with this but there’s some hella fun tidbits.

Anevka: Guess what. Klaus, very tired: What. Anevka: I'm getting married. Klaus: Again? Good for you. I hope this one lives longer. Anevka: He has the same name as you. Klaus: Get out of my house.

KB isn't a widower, things are just complicated and everyone blames Lu. There's time travel involved, of course.

"So your daughter--" "Sister." "...how--" "Just... just blame my mother."

He's LEGALLY Agatha's dad, maybe? Their dynamic is parent-child. Just, you know, as far as blood goes...

Anevka wants KB to help her bag Othar again. KB thinks she means finally killing him. Anevka: I might. Haven't decided yet.

Overall, though, including KB is too complicated without undermining the entire premise I want. Which is mostly canon but Anevka is Tarvek's embarrassing, mysterious, prone-to-assassination mother.

Seriously though, the entire attraction here is Anevka having the Dangerous Widow Whom No Man Can Tie Down vibe

She's a solo act. Some flings, sure, but overall? Chaos. Refined, elegant chaos.

Anevka as Bang’s sugar mom was suggested. We were obviously all on board.

Bang doesn’t need a sugar mom, but it makes the vein in Klaus's forehead throb, and that's very important.

Bang absolutely tries to get Tarvek to call her “mom” while she’s ‘dating’ Anevka. One time he does call her that and it throws her for SUCH A LOOP because no wrong.

Anevka occasionally daydreams of a world where she could have both Othar and Bang at the same time without them IMMEDIATELY trying to kill each other. Only occasionally, though, she has evidence to plant and blood to spill.

BACK TO ANEVKA SHIPPING HER KID WITH HIS POLITICALLY-APPROPRIATE CRUSH.

Anevka: Oh look, my future daughter-in-law. Tarvek, tired: Mother, she doesn't like me. Anevka: Whyever not? You're clever, handsome, politically apt, charming, sensitive, heir to a throne, you are EVERYTHING a maiden could wish for. Tarvek: You just think that because you're my mom. Agatha: No, no, she's not wrong. You're just not someone I trust. At all. Especially since you say you've been a honeypot before. Anevka: See? A simple hurdle, dear, I'm sure you could whip him into shape in no time. I could even loan you the whip. And the harness, perh-- Tarvek: MOTHER.

Anevka sends Tarvek out with Othar for “field trips.”

It’s great!! Multi-purpose! Absolutely helps boost Tarvek’s image if he’s associated with Known Hero, gets Othar out of her hair for a little bit, sometimes he can be pointed in a direction that’s useful to her.

Othar refers to this outings as “stepfather-stepson bonding times.” Tarvek absolutely hates it. Detests it, really.

Somehow something goes wrong and like 50% of the time and he ends up getting accused of murder, probably.

It’s so unfair. Especially since of the two of them, Othar is more likely to murder than him. (It’s because everyone knows what those Valois types are like, and Othar is a hero.)

Gil: What's so embarrassing about your mom? Your mom's nice. (To me.)

She gives him head pats and lollipops. His own dad certainly never gives him head pats OR lollipops.

Anevka: Well I WAS going to push him towards dear little Seffie, but he seems to be quite enamored with YOU, darling. Tarvek: Mother, PLEASE stop getting invested in my love life.

Anevka’s job is to meddle, he’s lucky she isn’t drawing up contracts and going Full Arrangement.

I also love the idea of Anevka having one of those "sunshine embodied anime mom" smiles as she says "Oh Tarvek, dear, look at all your little friends!"

She's genuinely enthused but Klaus is heavily disturbed by Anevka smiling like that.

"Is she going to sacrifice them?" "Uh, no, it isn't Sunday."

Human sacrifice is actually garish and passe these days, haven’t you heard?

Just imagining one of those Stately Child and Parent portraits with Anevka and Tarvek here.

When Tarvek was born, Anevka has an "I've only had my son for an hour and a half" moment... and then just shrugged and rolled with it.

Anevka "Hot Mom" Sturmvoraus is one of the MANY banes of Klaus's existence, but she's definitely one of the friendliest on the list... as much as he may resent that, at times.

Anevka: Is the Baron in? Boris: Actually... [Crashing noise] Boris: He just left. Anevka, pulling on the rocket boots she stole from Othar and heading towards the broken window leading to the outside of the ship: That's alright, I'll catch up.

(I love how Anevka's name just lends itself so well to AU portmanteaus.)

Anevka definitely susses out Gil's identity but she doesn't actually DO anything about it other than angling for Useful Connections.

She's always telling Tarvek to bring his friend along, and Klaus doesn't want Gil anywhere near that family but he doesn't want it to look like he has any particular interest in Gil.

Imagine Klaus actually encouraging Gil to persue Agatha with the idea that it will put some distance between Gil and "that damn woman and her spawn." Anevka for her part is pushing Agatha towards Tarvek. Meanwhile the three of them are working it out between themselves.

She just has This Energy, folks:

Tarvek: Oh no. Theo: Whats the matter? That's your mom, right? Tarvek: Oh NO, she's wearing her 'NEWLY WIDOWED BUT OUT ON THE PROWL' OUTFIT Theo: ????? She hasn’t been widowed- Tarvek: SHES AFTER THE BARON AND I'M GOING TO DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT, THEO

The one thing here is that Anevka's not into Klaus and he's not into her but by GOD is she going to fuck with his head about it.

She’s just doing this for the Big Dick Energy of trying to Get Baron Wulfenbach.

Embarrassing mom of the deadliest degree.

Tarvek: YOU’RE GOING TO RUIN MY LIFE. Anevka: Don't be so dramatic, let your mother have a bit of fun. Besides, he's not expelling you anymore, is he? Tarvek: I almost wish he was-

Also Gil and Tarvek reconciling early on due to the immense power of being Embarrassed By Your Parents.

Anevka and Klaus getting increasingly bitchy at each other at dinner, and Tarvek and Gil are just. Bright red and glowering at them.

They’re DESTROYING their COOL TEEN CRED.

Tarvek doesn't ever wants to marry a woman who has been married before, not because of some weird distaste of so-called "sloppy seconds," but rather that he's just scared that they're going to be like his mom, and planning to kill him for his money.

Tarvek, waking up in the middle of the night: What if they really do get married and I have to have Gil as a stepbrother. Tarvek: (screams internally for a few hours)

Anevka is also that Sailor J contouring video

While Otharnevka is... this thing

Some more relevant Vibes: Divorce Court Half-Mourning Upper East Side Widow

Everyone always assumed she had murdered her husband. It was a natural assumption, but ultimately wrong. She had had plans in place to kill him if the need arose, but in the end she hadn’t needed them.

Most people grossly underestimated how complicated it was to arrange for someone to be t-boned by a semi carrying flammable chemicals.

Othar as Anevka's second trophy husband and Tarvek's annoying stepdad has a very specific energy.

That energy is at least 20% "the lovebirds take anniversary honeymoons every year" and 60% "Tarvek hates being in the room with them because they're gross and embarrassing."

This is partly fun because Othar being Tarvek’s stepdad is... a lot.

But honestly, I'm also just enjoying cougar Anevka with Trophy Husband Othar. They're actually in love!!! BUT. Cougar with a trophy husband.

Anevka makes sly comments about Othar and Klaus having sexual tension.

Also I have headcanons about NB Tarvek and like

I think she'd be supportive up until the point of "you want to be Storm King, don't you?"

Less "this isn't natural and you shouldn't be this way" and more "this is going to cause you trouble due to social norms."

"Keep it under wraps until your throne is secure, then you can come out in a blaze of glory." No dresses in public until you're king, then do whatever you want. After all, “Your Majesty” is gender neutral.

Anevka caught Tarvek playing dressup in her closet one time and just criticized the color relationships.

And you must try to avoid wearing that particular shade at all, my dear, it really doesn't look imperial.

#Anevka Sturmvoraus #Girl Genius #Tarvek Sturmvoraus #Klaus Wulfenbach #Gilgamesh Wulfenbach #Othar Tryggvassen #Agatha Heterodyne #Otharnevka #GG OT3 #Phoenix Posts

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missturtleduck · 4 years ago

Note

Fake dating anon-I think it would be cool if it wasn’t a modern au? But thank you!!!!

Sorry for your wait, anon! I hope you like what I wrote for you <3

Fake It Till You Make It

Sokka x Reader - FakeDating!Trope

Needless to say, Y/N was slightly shocked by Sokka’s proposition.

By the age of sixteen, they had been crucial pai sho tiles in the gambit against the once Fire Lord Ozai. Returning home was odd for many reasons, but notably the reminders that they were still children really, or at least in the eyes of their families. It was Zuko who had suggested a gang trip – a joint life changing field trip – after the nations settled down from Ozai’s defeat.

The first to return home was Y/N. Her mother lived in Fire Fountain City. It was only a short journey away from the capital, and Hakoda had already travelled to see his children at the palace. Sure, she had joked about pushing off her mother’s insistent affection, but she definitely cried a little bit when she got to hug her mum, and even more when her brothers piled on too. Ever the monarchist, Zuko was welcomed into the house with open arms and plenty of celebration. Toph especially got on with her family, rough-housing with Y/N’s brothers like it was nothing.

Since Toph didn’t want to see her parents as of yet, the only family member left to visit was Sokka and Katara’s Gran Gran since Suki’s family were doing work in the Fire Nation anyway. It took some convincing for Toph to put on snow boots – “I’ll risk frostbite if it means seeing, Katara!” – but soon they were travelling all the way to the South Pole. It was on their stop at Kyoshi Island that Sokka had approached Y/N.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Y/N barked out an incredulous laugh. “Tui and La, what?”

“Exactly what I said,” Sokka nodded, face solemn. “Katara wrote to Gran Gran a couple of times and mentioned Yue and Suki, but you know how that ended.”

“One turned into the moon and the other is a raging Sapphic in a relationship with Ty Lee.”

“Exactly!” He looked distressed, throwing his hands in the air. “And Gran Gran sent a letter back saying how excited she was to meet my girlfriend!”

Frowning in confusion, Y/N looked at him. “You could just tell her what happened.”

“But, Y/N, she was so excited!” He simpered the way a child would, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Obviously, we’re just friends, but would you do this?”

Ouch. Sure, they were ‘just friends’, but it hurt anyway. Maybe it was the terseness with how he said it, or the fact that since the war had ended all Y/N could think about is how pretty Sokka looked when he could finally relax. Whatever it was, it stung in her chest, panging with the intensity of heartburn. Heartburn seemed a fitting enough description regardless of its denotation.

So that was how she ended up fake dating Sokka, all for the sake of his ego and his gran gran’s happiness. As they travelled over the ocean on Appa’s back, he was as physically far from her as he could possibly be. Ouch, again. For a fake boyfriend, he was doing a crappy job at it. Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N sulked quite contently next to Zuko, who seemed to be comfortable with her mood – something about being friends with far grumpier girls. That had made her laugh.

Her laugh had made Sokka stare.

The sharpness to her gaze melted almost immediately when she saw the concern etched on his face. Instead, she beamed at him. Sokka grinned back, turning away to continue his conversation with Suki.

Y/N could feel Zuko’s gaze on her. “I swear to the spirits, Zuko, if you say that’s rough, buddy, I’ll chi block you.”

The crown prince was kind enough to stifle his laughter, though it seemed contagious. Her frown shifted into a small smile and she took to staring over the edge of Appa’s saddle at the canvas of blue beneath them. There was something tranquil about the polar water, the great water beasts breaching the waves only to dive back down into the impossible depths. Being from the Fire Nation, Y/N had never experienced such wonder in a single image – nor such freezing weather. Pulling furs over herself, she readied herself for what would happen on the ice.

Gran Gran looked to be the loveliest but scariest woman she would ever meet. The woman stood as the leader of the tribe; a gaggle of children stood behind her in uncertainty. However, as soon as Sokka hopped off Appa’s back, they were screaming and charging past her to tackle him to the ground. Her heart warmed as they hugged him and cried, shouting at him for leaving them without a warrior in the village.

“What are you seal pups on about?” He snorted, trying to avoid being winded by tiny elbows. “I trained you better than this.”

“That’s enough of that.”

At the woman’s words, the children picked themselves up, leaving Sokka in the snow. He didn’t last long though as he and Katara took their turn in charging. Embracing their grandmother with the tightest hug Y/N had ever seen, she left them to their moment, opting to instead help Toph down from their trusty steed.

“I hate this,” Toph muttered, holding both Zuko and Y/N’s arms in her own death grip.

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “But you’ll be able to take those boots off once we get inside one of the igloos.”

“And this must be Y/N.”

With wide eyes, she pried herself from Toph, trusting Zuko to make sure she didn’t cause any avalanches. Stepping to Sokka’s side, Y/N tried not to startle as he wrapped his arm around her hip. “Sokka, let me meet your grandmother before you steal me away!”

She felt smug satisfaction at how he flushed.

“Let me look at you, dear,” The matriarch ordered, though not unkindly. Presenting herself in the woman, she brushed off the scrutinous stare with a smile. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you, erm- “

“Please,” She beamed, and all Y/N could see was the saccharine threat that Katara often fronted, “Call me Gran Gran.”

As the woman turned away, she swatted Sokka’s arm, meeting his gaze with a scowl. Stalking past him through the snow – which was harder than she had assumed – Y/N was followed by a curious flock of children tugging on her sleeves. Patient as a saint, she laughed with them, answering all of their burning questions.

Why is your hair like that? Why are your clothes red? Is that the same scary man who attacked our village? But he doesn’t look scary. Why is Sokka smiling at you?

Whipping her head around, Y/N met Sokka’s eyes. He was grinning like a dope, chin rested on his palm as Katara talked Gran Gran’s ear off. Somehow, he hadn’t realised that she had caught him staring, but the children soon fixed that; a snowball to the face promptly brought him out of his stupor. Had he hit his head on the way down from Appa? Whatever it was, it made her heart hurt and she had promised Toph a warm igloo anyway.

The sun was beginning to set behind the glaciated mountains on the horizon, illuminating the village in the evening light, dappling the ice with sunspots. She had never seen something so beautiful before, but as the sun disappeared, so did the warmth; the igloo more than made up for it.

As she sat with Zuko, Suki, and Toph – Sokka and Katara obviously busy whilst Aang promised the children some airbending games – Y/N grumbled to herself. Not only was she playing fake girlfriend, but fake girlfriend who was hated by the family. Well, it probably wasn’t hate. She wouldn’t blame Gran Gran for being protective over one of her two grandchildren. In fact, thinking of how her brothers reacted to Sokka, maybe she had it good.

Laid flat on her back, she listened to the gossip of the Fire Nation, of how Ty Lee was doing, and how Toph was seeing some weird stuff under the ice. Whatever it was, it couldn’t spike her interest enough to join in the conversation.

“Y/N?”She barely turned her head to see an anxious looking Sokka in the doorway.

“Yes?”

He looked around the room at all the faces and fidgeted. “About earlier- “

“Listen, I don’t care, okay, Sokka?” She said, trying her hardest to not seem entirely mean, nor upset; Toph scoffed, muttering something that sounded like liar.

“Just,” He sighed, “Can we talk outside?”

Pulling furs back over herself, she looked pleadingly at her friends to rescue her, but to no avail. Trudging after Sokka, she was growing more and more vexed as they moved further from the village and into the cold. The moon began to rise in the sky, glossing the ice with an ethereal glow, which was perhaps the only nice part about being out in the bitter cold.

“What, Sokka?” Y/N finally huffed, putting her foot down. “Am I not being a convincing enough girlfriend for you?”

“It’s not that Y/N,” Sokka started, waving his hands in a panicked motion as if warning off a polar dog.

“Then what?” She interrupted, not having any of it. “Did you want me to hold your hand? Maybe give you a cuddle?”

He flinched at the venom in her tone. “No, Y/N, if you’d just- “

“Just what?” Y/N snapped. “What you asked of me what really inconsiderate,

Sokka, but I did it anyway because I'm your friend – just your friend.”

“Spirits, Y/N,” He sighed, realisation passing behind his eyes.

“But it’s fine! I’m a great actress, Sokka, because I wouldn’t be acting. See? I can hold your hand, hug you, even kiss you if you needed it, but it hurts me.”

Looking down at the ice, Sokka kicked some snow under his boot, looking very ashamed of himself for a second. It pierced through her anger in a way that was unfair. Instead of dealing a final blow, all she could think to do was grab his hand and comfort him. Yes, she still felt she was in the right, but Y/N didn’t want one of her closest friends to suffer at her hand, retribution or no.

“Gran Gran shouted at me, y’know,” Sokka said, a small smile quirking at his lips as his eyes fell on his hand in hers.

Y/N frowned. “Why?”

“For thinking she was a ‘dumb old lady’ apparently,” He chuckled, meeting her eyes. “It seemed Aang had let slip that we weren’t actually dating, so she told me off for that.”

“You deserved that,” She grin, bumping his shoulder.

“And then she called me dumb, which I didn’t appreciate.”

His smile said otherwise, so Y/N pushed. “What did you do now?”

“Try to fake something I actually wanted.”

Shocked, Y/N dropped his hand, and for a moment his heart fell heavy in his chest. This was the perfect chance to be with her, he thought, now that the war was over and she knew her family was safe. Now they had autonomy, surely they could focus on each other.

“Y/N, I’m so- “

His apology was cut off by an insistent pair of lips, begging him to be quiet and just enjoy their moment. Deepening the kiss, she looped her arms around the back of his neck, the scruff of his unshaven hair brushing against her arms. His heart was soaring, hers no longer burning but glowing. She pulled back and reaching up to his face, Y/N felt the warmth of his cheek in the bitter cold, radiating warmer than the sun. Whatever light had been taken by the night was captured in them.

“Gran Gran likes you by the way,” Sokka said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers. “Says you wrangle those kids better than I do.”

“Praise Agni,” Y/N gasped, letting out a bated breath she hadn’t realised was stuck. “She does the same scary face Katara does.”

Sokka chucked, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t you worry, Y/N. Me and Dad are just as scared by it.”

With a giggle, she rested her head in the crook of his neck, basking in their embrace for as long as she could.

#atla #fic request #sokka x reader #fake dating #sokka x f!reader #zuko #toph #aang #katara #suki #the gaang #gran gran #fake it till you make it #anon request #angst #happy ending #missturtleduck

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