#the very next morning. that is absolutely horrendous timing my love <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justawhimm · 2 years ago

Text

you’re real

fandom: cyb//erp//unk 2077 summary: following johnny’s death, kerry finds himself pregnant again. he’s still coming to grips with everything that happened, but is now having to live with the soon-to-be new arrival. all the stresses are building up. he’s not sure how he can take it, or if he actually can. all of that has to come to a pause though when he goes into labor right before a huge storm hits.

chapters: 3/8

content warnings: transmasculine pregnancy, graphic depiction of childbirth, mention of drug abuse, mention abusive friendship (nothing graphic), mention of terrorism

notes: it’s very late on may 14th when I’m posting this. I’m exhausted, but I wanted to get this posted before the day is through. I’ll fix any grammar and spelling in the next couple of days. thank you for understanding! EDIT: everything should be mostly all good now~

Current Year: April 2024 Kerry's Age: 36

cross posted on ao3

Kerry found out he was pregnant again less than a month after Johnny died, and he thought his world was falling apart. Not because he wasn't prepared or anything, oh no. This was so much more different than when he was pregnant with Derry.

He was in a relationship, for one. Three years on in dating Jamison, doing well. Living together, living in somewhere nicer than a fuckin' MegaBuilding. Derry was 16 years old and while she was excited to be an older sister, she (and everyone) could see that Kerry was in a fragile place. His oldest friend, the man he'd been in love with since they were teenagers... He was gone, and now suddenly he was becoming a father again. It was almost symbolic, but Kerry thought all of that shit was stupid. His pain wasn't symbolic, and he was never going to accept it as such.

The first months were horrendous on Kerry. His morning sickness was so much worse than how it'd been with Derry, same for the mood swings. Depression could likely be attributed to them as well, but with how things were going, it just seemed like it was all blending together. Not to mention the stress his body was under at that time, getting unnecessary attention from the screamsheets because of his close association to the "known terrorist" Johnny Silverhand now.

From Johnny to being investigated to his pregnancy being discovered, it felt like he was in the public eye at a rapid fire pace and Kerry just didn't want anything to do with it for once. He wanted nothing more than to just be left alone.

Much to his pure and utter dismay, it felt as though he would have the world's eye on him through the entirety of his pregnancy. Paps on every street corner to catch a glimpse of him, Jamison, or Derry doing anything. So, Kerry did just about the only thing he felt like he could: stay home.

"Last call, Ker. Gotta let me know what ya want. Tonight's gonna be rough and I can't be runnin' around for you like usual," Jamison explained calmly. He didn't usually have issue with going around in the middle of the night for the sake of Kerry's cravings. After seeing the warnings for the storm coming around tonight, though, he knew it was better to get this out of the way now, rather than later.

"I can't go on and tell ya the future, y'know," Kerry would argue slightly.

"Yeah, but better to have an idea and selection so you aren't begging me to go out when the wind's gusting tonight. Any aversions today at least?" Jamison watched as Kerry would consider the question, following beside him as he would make his way toward Kerry's car in the garage.

"Uh… absolutely nothing with garlic, or it ain't gonna be pretty. Oh! I know what I want. Jamie… Jamie, if you find any of the chocolate oreos, I'll marry you on the spot." Kerry went around the back of the car, following Jamison toward the driver's seat and grabbing his hand with both of his. The grin forming across Jamison's face was fond, and he'd lean in to kiss Kerry's forehead.

"Message received. I'll do my best. Think you'd be fine with chocolate stuff in general?"

"...Yeah, I guess."

"Nova. Kyra still comin' to pick Derry up for the weekend?"

"That's the plan. If you drag your feet, like you always fuckin' do, you'll probably miss her."

"Maybe that's my plan," Jamison remarked with a small smirk before shrugging. "See ya soon. Call me if you can think of anything else." Before Kerry could say anything further, he'd open the car door with his free hand, pecking him on the forehead one last time before getting into the car. Kerry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his rounded belly before starting to head back inside. Whatever. Didn't need any fighting in the first place, so it was probably for the best.

The garage would open, then would close once Jamison was safely outside of it.

Kerry was really getting sick of this shit. With a hand pressed to the underside of his stomach, he'd feel the slight uncomfortable pressure from the baby's position. She'd dropped quite a bit just a few days ago, and if it was anything like his pregnancy with Derry, he knew he'd likely still have at least a week more before they'd get any sign of labor coming around. Pain in his fuckin' ass.

Waddling further into the house, he'd look around for his daughter. Not in the kitchen, not in the living room, not in the TV room. Meaning he was about to have a hell of a time going up the steps. Letting out a short grunt of irritation, he'd approach the bottom of the stairwell.

Nothing part of it was appealing to him. He hated that he'd had the nerve to think that it wouldn't be an issue early on in his pregnancy. Oh, Kerry from 6 months ago. You utter fucking fool. It'd been 16 years since the last time he was pregnant, and clearly he didn't have a fucking clue as to how he'd felt all the way back when he was 19 and not 36. It didn't help at all that he just didn't feel like he had the mental energy for this right now.

For a minute or two, he'd just stare at them with resentment. Considering his options.

…

Yeah, no. Fuck that.

"Derry!" Silence. "Derry, do not make me go all the way up there!" Kerry heard the sound of a door opening.

"Dad, we have phones." For fuck's sake. He hated when she actually had a single ounce of thought in that head of hers, unlike himself nowadays. "You could've just texted me, or called me…" Derry reminded, carefully padding over carpeted floors to step toward the top of the steps. Kerry looked up at her, seeing that she was finally dressed for the day. Even still, her bleached blonde hair was a bit unkempt, probably from lounging on her bed. Like he had for Jamison, he would cross his arms at her.

"Well you're here now. Are ya gettin' your stuff packed up to visit with your mom?"

"Already done."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Did you pack your inhaler? Your meds?"

"Yes, Dad. Baby your baby, not me," Derry complained, an annoyed scowl painting itself across her features. Kerry wouldn't even falter, patting the top of his belly unconsciously before he'd respond to her.

"This baby ain't here yet, so I guess you're the only one I've got. Be nice ta your old man… I'm just tryin' ta keep ya from forgetting shi- stuff. Doubt you want either Jamie or I ta have to head down ta your mom's house in case you forget somethin’."

That would make Derry's scowl turn into a slight grimace. Yeah, with the tension between both of her parents, it really wasn't ideal. So, she'd just sigh and stare at him for a few beats before sighing again.

"I'll double check…"

"Thank you."

Turning around, Derry let out a short groan of irritation as she'd make her way back toward her bedroom. Alright, all good on that front. He still hated that she was right, though. He should probably find his phone. He'd been on and off using his phone to call for her from just downstairs or the other room, depending on the day. With how close he was to having the new baby, though, he was pretty sure it'd become his go to for the next few weeks. Hopefully just a week.

Feeling a slight cramp, he'd rub along the under curve of his belly. With how tame these contractions were, they reminded him a lot of his false labor with Derry. Not very painful, not very regular. Just a product of him being on his feet for too damn long.

"Message received," Kerry murmured to himself. "Let's get my phone, find some water, and settle down for a while.”

By the time Jamison made it home, Derry was with her mom and the wind was already beginning to pick up a bit. About 10 mph, while the weather had said it was gonna be ranging from 30-40 mph by tonight. Coupled with the thunderstorm that was supposed to be coming with it, it seemed like it was gonna get nasty tonight.

"Home!" Jamison would call out into the house as he came in, several grocery bags hanging from one of his arms.

"Oreos?" Boy, what a greeting. Jamison breathed out a wheeze of a laugh as he wandered in toward the kitchen to start putting things away.

"Yep, got your oreos, baby," he'd call out, just loud enough for Kerry to be able to hear him.

"Better start lookin' for a ring, then. Pick out somethin' cute. Nothin' too glitz or else you're gonna look like a gold digger," Kerry teased from the other room. "Oreos first, though. Gotta have proof ta get your reward."

Yep, saw that coming. Setting down what he'd initially been putting away, Jamison would start to look through the blue cloth grocery bags to grab the cookies for him. Picking them out of the bag, he would go off to follow the sound of Kerry's voice.

Predictably, he'd find him in the living room, stretched across the length of one of the couches. Pillows supporting his back, he had his water bottle to the left of him on the floor while his phone was resting between his belly and his pecs. Catching sight of the love of his life, Kerry would grin pleasedly. Jamison returned the grin, leaning forth and handing the package of chocolate creamed oreos to him. It was only then when he'd spy the water.

"False ones again?"

"Wha'?"

"Either Derry was complaining at ya, or you were havin' the practice contractions again. You don't usually go for the water otherwise." Something he hated, but Jamison knew better than to start that argument again.

"Oh. Yeah, she's havin' a go right now. Hasn't helped a ton, though. Think I might have a bath here in a while t' get her to chill out." Moving his phone to the side of him, he'd use both of his hands to hold and open the package of oreos. Immediately plucking one out and pulling it apart, he'd take a bite from the slightly more naked cookie first. "Fuuuuck I needed this…" He moaned out.

Jamison snorted a bit to himself, placing a gentle hand on his boyfriend's stomach.

"Just be sure to let me know if it gets more serious. Would rather find out you're in labor now, instead of later when it's raining." He'd notice when Kerry would briefly look bothered, though it'd dissolve before he looked back up at him.

"She only just dropped, like, three days ago. Took Derry nearly two weeks to decide to come after that."

"Totally get that, but this is Kelvy. Not Derry. Wanna be on the safe side, so you're actually where you need to be when everything starts, and you don't underestimate it all. Again."

Kerry was quick to roll his eyes at that. His mood had been quick to drop with Jamison's pestering. He was 36-fuckin'-years old. He didn't need this shit.

"I need to be in Masbate, but guess that's pretty much outta the question at this point."

"I know, baby. I'm sorry." Jamison was trying to keep a level head for the sake of everything. He could see Kerry was getting upset, and they really didn't need that right now. Stretching out his neck a bit and adjusting his position over the back of the couch, he'd kiss the top of Kerry's head. "Even if the suits weren't still investigating things, I doubt your manager would let you run off right now."

"Fuck the suits, and fuck Aims."

"James, Ker."

"Oh yeah. … Two first names, knew I couldn't trust that fuck."

"James is–"

"I know. I haven't totally lost my mind, Jamie. Fuck that dipshit, anyway. They can't tell me what the fuck to do. I mean, what the fuck am I gonna do?!" He'd finally shove the other half of the oreo in his mouth, glowering down at the open package in front of him as he chewed the cookie. "I'm, like, 3 weeks from being due, I'm still fucking grieving, and everyone is always watching our asses like I'm bound to snap and blow somethin' up at any minute. I'm so fucking sick of this shit!"

"Let's see if we can head to Masbate after you recover a bit from having Kel, Ker. Hell, let's go visit Khian in Tangalan. Let him see Derry and the baby. What do you think of that?" Jamison would attempt to help ease Kerry's anger, his stress. His hand was still resting over Kerry's stomach, while his thumb was stroking the top of it. Before he could answer, though, he'd feel the skin of Kerry's belly tense. He'd catch as Kerry would grimace slightly, the look of annoyance. Definitely seemed like he was stressing himself out.

"Seems like Kel's upset too," he said softly. "Why don't we take a breath, calm down… Everything's ok. Your stress is her stress."

"God, shut the fuck up, Jamison." He saw that coming. Being the voice of reason to his depressed, moody, and heavily pregnant mainline was rarely appreciated in this house nowadays.

The contraction lasted about 40 seconds. Not too bad. For now, Jamison was on the side of thinking it may just be from the stress and dehydration. Seemed like it was just a bad day for them both. Even so, he decided he'd try to keep an eye on Kerry as much as he could.

"Want me to start your bath?" He asked softly.

"...Yeah, I guess."

"Alright. Better enjoy the oreos now, 'cause they're not going near the tub again."

"What? Seriously?" The anger had drained from his tone, instead replaced by hurt.

"Ker, you're not the one that cleans the drains." The look on Kerry's face was pitiful and was almost enough to make Jamison fold right there.

"I'll be careful. Promise."

"Kerry…"

"Jamie…"

For a few short moments, there was a stalemate between the both of them. Unfortunately for Jamison, he was horrendously weak to Kerry's sad eyes. Letting out a begrudging sigh, he'd lean in and press another kiss to Kerry's head before straightening back up.

"Fine, you've got your way again. I'm gonna put the frozen stuff away really quick, then head up and fix up your bath." With him walking away, Kerry would let his expression relax a bit. Could definitely use a warm bath. Anything to help him chill out.

He'd had another contraction by the time Jamison returned. Still nothing much. Barely anything, really. So, he'd just allow it as Jamison helped him up to stand. He would grab Kerry's water bottle, while Kerry pocketed his phone and closed the resealable opening of the oreo package.

Needless to say, the steps up to the second floor were about as slow as they always were nowadays. It really was the worst part of his day, but he could manage it. Jamison wasn't really bulky enough to be able to pick him up to take him up anyhow. No choice but his own two legs. Once it was done, though, he would very quickly mentally decide that he'd rather die than go up the stairs again today.

The bathroom that was attached to his and Jamison's room was just as large as Kerry needed it. Two sinks, one large mirror, a sizable tub, and a shower off by itself against the opposite wall. Kerry'd been using the tub far more than he ever had in his life with this pregnancy. Denial clouded his mind with the first pregnancy, to the point where he'd just ignored every little ache and pain. All the while this one had him clambering for pregnancy safe relief.

"Make yourself useful and hold these, would ya?" Kerry teased, handing off the package of oreos. Next came his phone from his pocket.

"Don't need me ta help ya get undressed?" Jamison asked tentatively. About to start removing his large t-shirt, Kerry lowered it back down and narrowed his gaze at him.

"Perv," he scrutinized, only to grin and let a few chuckles bubble out of him. "Alright, sure. Have your fun."

"I'll let you get the shirt off by yourself if it makes you feel better," Jamison tacked on as he started to put everything down on the bathroom counter.

"Oh, what a gentleman." He'd start to pull his shirt off again. Once he pulled his head from the neck hole, he'd toss it over toward the open topped hamper, balling it up beforehand so it got tossed in precisely. Now came Jamison's turn. Kerry carefully sat at the edge of the tub so Jamison could pull his socks off first. They, too, would be tossed into the hamper before Jamison guided his mainline to stand once again.

Kerry doubted that it was comfortable at all to be kneeling on the tile the way he was, but Jamison wouldn't complain. Instead, Kerry just felt prickly hairs and warm skin pressed against his stomach. Next came a pair of hands at each side, soon guiding down to cup it at the very bottom. All Kerry could see was the top of Jamison's head. Furrowing his brow, he tried to peer over his swollen middle.

"Cut it out, would ya? That doesn't feel like you pulling my pants down for me."

"Could I have a moment of privacy with my daughter, Kerry? Really- don't be rude."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Fine, fine. My most sincerest apologies," Kerry gave in again, then lightly kicked at Jamison's knee with a bit of impatience behind it. "But could you hurry the fuck up? My water's gonna get cold, and then you're just gonna have ta refill it."

There was a few seconds of silence, where he'd now feel Jamison's arms wrapping around his waist and snuggling his face against the front of his belly. Kelvy either must've loved it or really hated it, because she was finally starting to move for the first time in a couple of hours with that affection. Kerry grunted out in slight annoyance.

"Think you woke her. Fuckin' gonk."

"Aw, I'm sorry. I'm sorry to you, too, baby girl." He pressed a kiss to Kerry's stomach, then finally began to pull away so he could undo Kerry's button and zipper to his maternity pants. He was finally making quicker work of his job, pulling them and Kerry's underwear down carefully. He would make sure Kerry was holding on securely to something before helping Kerry step out of them.

Finally getting in the tub was beyond a relief. He would keep his arms at the edge of the tub, to prevent the sogging of his precious oreos.

"Water," Jamison set the water bottle off just to the side of the tub, "phone," the phone would be set right on top of the farthest part of the outer rim of the tub, making sure it wouldn't slide and fall in before he'd finally move to get the prize, "and oreos." Those would immediately be put in Kerry's hands, else he knew he'd probably lose his.

"Anything else, your majesty?"

"Y'know, I think I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"Positive?"

Kerry took a moment to really think it over, then nodded his head affirmatively.

"I'm good. Call ya if I need anything, though."

"Yes, please do. As in: tell me if the contractions become regular."

"You weren't even there and you're never gonna fuckin' let me live Derry's birth down, are ya?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely not. Because if you give birth in the car while it's storming out, or in the hospital lobby in your pants again, I'm gonna be pretty annoyed."

"Alright, alright. No car birth, no hospital lobby birth. I'll keep an eye on it, promise."

"Good!" With an added dramatism, he'd peck Kerry on the top of his head. "Enjoy your bath," he told him, voice quieter and more gentle than before. And with that, Kerry was left alone.

The warm water would mildly soothe his aching muscles. His back, his calves, his feet, his belly… A nice soak would do him some good. All the while continuing to snack on his oreos, of course. Those absolutely weren't there just to keep him company.

He could hear the wind picking up speed outside several minutes into his bath. He hoped Jamison put the car back in the garage, otherwise he knew he'd be annoyed if he had to do it in the rain.

Even in the bath, the contractions were persisting. He'd had water, changed positions, and now the bath wasn't working either. …Shit. He was pretty sure this was looking a lot more real by the moment. Picking up his phone, he'd decide to call Jamison. He was gonna prove to this idiot of his that he was on top of this. It would take only a single ring before the call was answered, where Kerry would put the phone on speaker. "All done?" Jamison asked.

"Nah, not yet. But, uh… hey, I haven't been timin' them or anything yet, so I have no damn clue if they're con–"

"Ker, I put the contraction timing app on your phone for a–"

"Let me finish, c'mon."

"Sorry, sorry. Proceed."

"...The fuck was I talking about?"

"Your contractions, I'm guessing."

"Right! I don't have a clue if they're consistent right now, but I got a feeling they're real, maybe. Since even with the water, moving, and now the bath isn't stoppin' them. So, y'know… might be baby time in a while," Kerry finally managed to explain. There was a couple seconds of silence between them, where Jamison was giving Kerry the opportunity to continue if he needed to. When he didn't, he'd speak up again.

"Well, why don't ya track 'em for an hour. How many have you had since I went downstairs?"

"Uh, like three?"

"...Three in just under an hour?"

"Yeah?"

"Alright… alright. Please time them. Take an hour to do that. If they're consistent, I'm gonna see if I can somehow persuade the hospital ta take you early, so we're not stuck when things pick up." Oh. Wow, ok. Kerry was quiet for a moment.

"...Ker?"

"Yeah, I got it. Guess it really might be happening, huh…"

"Might be. You alright, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. I'll start timing 'em. Think I'm gonna stay in the tub a little while longer, too. Just gonna get more hot water again." Preparing to do so, he'd move the half-empty package of oreos off to the side of the tub so he could maneuver himself over toward the drain and faucet. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"Ok. Love you."

"Love you too, Jamie." Hanging up, Kerry set the phone down so he could drain the tub some, then turned the hot water on so he could start to refill it. His brown eyes would keep trailing down to his stomach, coming to the slow realization that whether this was happening today or not, it would be happening soon. It really didn't feel real.

How could this be happening without Johnny?

Johnny hadn't been a good person to be around in the end, Kerry knew that. He wasn't a fool. But, he just couldn't imagine raising another baby without Johnny there in their lives too. His daughters' uncle. Hell, Johnny and Derry were sort of buddies back before Alt died. Johnny'd already been bad, he knew that. But at least the good times were more frequent back then. After Alt, his behavior just… doubled down. There were still those good moments that gave him hope, but other times he knew that Johnny shouldn't have been allowed near her.

In Kerry's spacing out, he nearly forgot to use his contraction timing app like he'd been told. He would scramble to get to his phone and also turn off the hot water when he was finally pleased enough by the hot water refill. Thankfully, he wouldn't end up dropping his phone.

He would press the button about 15 seconds into his contraction, then press it again 30 seconds later. Less than a minute, at least… That part wasn't the important part, though. And so he'd wait, trying not to let his mind wander back to Johnny again while he waited.

kerbear❤️ SENT: 4:11 PM [about 13 to 14 mins between the last 3] [might be happening holy shit]

jamie💘 SENT: 4:13 PM [ok i'll call the hospital n see if i can convince them] [still enjoying ur bath or do u want out 1st?]

kerbear❤️ SENT: 4:14 PM [no im 👍]

jamie💘 SENT: 4:14 PM [ok 💕 lmk when ur ready]

Kerry was startled out of his recurring somber thoughts by the rhythmed knocks of Jamison. Looking up, he'd adjust in the bath slightly.

"Yeah?"

The door would open and the first thing that drew Kerry's eye was the pair of clothes in his arms. A set of his clothes from the looks of it. Jamison would close the door behind him, then set the clothes on the bathroom counter.

"Doc said they'd be willing to check your progress. If you're anything past 4 cm dilated, they'll admit you and see if you can labor there. Otherwise, they'll just send us home."

That he hadn't actually expected. Kerry figured they would've immediately told Jamison no for one reason or another. Guess they understood his reasoning for all of this, or they didn't want a pissy and heavily pregnant rockerboy on their hands.

"Yeah? Really smooth talked 'em, huh?"

"Guess so. Here, I'll help ya get ready. Think sweatpants and one of your big shirts'll be comfortable enough for ya, babe?"

Kerry's eyes had strayed away from Jamison to pull out the plug for the drain, but would shrug his shoulders at the question.

"Guess so. Probably won't be wearin' 'em for long if I'm admitted."

"You're right there," he conceded, nodding his head with a small smile. Looking toward him again, Kerry could see through that smile. He knew what it meant. He wished this asshole would stop pitying him. It wasn't like he was just some sad sack. Something about his tone must've implied he was sad or upset or something.

Well, he wasn't. He was fine. Kerry was just tired, and he really didn't want to have to deal with giving birth today when he was so fucking tired.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry." Kerry doubted he knew what he was asking for or how he actually looked to him, but the expression would relax anyway.

As he would start to carefully push himself up to stand in the bath, Kerry could feel his stomach starting to turn with anxiety. He really might be having a baby tonight… Part of him hoped not. He'd really been looking forward to just being able to lie in his bed tonight.

Even with the contractions relatively consistent over the course of the time they took to get ready, get to the hospital, and have Kerry examined, it apparently wasn't yielding a lot of results just yet. Kerry couldn't tell whether he was relieved or annoyed as fuck about it.

"Only a 2," Jamison sighed as he held onto Kerry's hand. "Guess it makes sense. The storm might just clear up by the time you'd need to be there. Still annoying as shit."

"Let's just get home," Kerry muttered. He'd been feeling prying eyes on him since practically the moment they'd left the house. Watching eyes. Like the paps were taking pics of his every move. Or if it wasn't them, it was just passersby. Taking pics with their phones, staring hard at him with judgemental eyes. He wasn't a terrorist, and he wasn't wrong for still loving Johnny.

Always longing for the attention to be on him, right now he wanted nothing more than for people to never look at him again. He hadn't wanted that attention for so long now.

He felt them all the way up toward the car.

All the way down the road.

All throughout the 30 minute drive back to their home.

The rain had only just started by the time they made it home. Light and not anything to worry about. It would help obscure them, hopefully. Keep the paps away. Now Kerry was really hoping for it to storm hard. Stop looking at him, stay the fuck away from him.

"Hey…"

Kerry jumped when he heard Jamison's voice, felt his hand on his arm. Looking up and at his mainline, their pairs of brown eyes would stare into one another.

It was darker now. They were in the garage with the door closed, car turned off. He could hear the whistle of the wind, the soft sound of rain falling. No one could see them but them. Jamison's eyes shone with that pitying gaze again. He liked to assert it was concern, but Kerry wasn't stupid. He'd watch as he brought his hand up and kissed it gently.

"It's ok now," Jamison assured him softly, bringing Kerry's hand down again. "It's just us."

The mild agoraphobia Kerry had been experiencing the last several months had been prevelant. They both knew about it well, though neither actually had the words to describe it. Jamison just called it his anxiety. It wasn't a totally inaccurate description, after all. They knew going to the hospital would likely end up being an issue because of all of this, but had hoped it wouldn't be so bad. They were just there to help him.

But he hadn't been able to go to appointments. They'd had a midwife come around for that. A woman that Kerry had been putting his trust into. But, they'd made the decision to go to the hospital for the birth for the sake of safety. After so much heartache Kerry had been put through, Kerry nor Jamison had wanted to put him or Kelvy at risk.

They already knew getting Kerry to relax at the hospital would be difficult, but Jamison was already hating that he'd have to put him through that twice now because of this.

"Wanna sit here and calm down for a bit?"

Kerry shook his head, though he'd hold on tightly to Jamison's hand.

"Ok. C'mon then," he urged with a gentleness to his voice. "I could set you up to lie on the couch again, or help you up to the room so you can sleep a little better. What do you think about either of those plans?"

"Bed." He was dreading those stairs again, but he really would much prefer being able to sleep at least somewhat comfortably.

"Good deal." Jamison nodded his head and began to get out of the car, going around the front and helping Kerry get out.

Another contraction came between the car and the steps. Approximately 12-13 minutes since the last. Right now, they still weren't enough to interrupt what Kerry was doing just yet, so they continued on their way toward the steps.

Pillows were arranged on their shared bed in the way Kerry had liked them yesterday. It would take about 15 minutes of rearranging and a bathroom break to get him comfortable enough with how he was lying and the arrangement this go around before Kerry felt like he could finally settle well enough.

Jamison disappeared for a couple of minutes to retrieve some of what Kerry would need. His water bottle and the mostly empty pack of oreos, as well as a brand new full pack for when that one was depleted.

"Anything else, Ker?"

"Nah…"

"Mind if I join you for a while?"

"It's a free country in this house, y'know. Ain't gonna stop ya." The bit of humor had Jamison grinning slightly. Toeing off his shoes, he'd soon crawl into bed to take the spot opposite of Kerry.

"Wanna do some breathing? Ta help you calm down a bit more?" Kerry was quick to shake his head.

"I'll be alright," he assured quietly. "you don't have to worry so much 'bout me."

"I'm gonna. We're in this together. I love you. I wanna help you," Jamison asserted.

"...I know. I love you too."

"Do you just wanna try to sleep it off then?" This time, Kerry nodded his head.

"Better get a little rest going before we're up all night waiting for Kelvy to get ready to come." Jamison nodded in agreement.

"Sleep it is. I can't wait to meet her." His large hand pressed against his belly again, like before. Kerry's belly was currently being supported by his pregnancy pillow, almost like it was being served on a nice, soft platter for Jamison to be able to stroke and caress it. Kelvy had been moving on and off since they'd left the house, but Kerry was relieved to find she was quiet right now.

"If you start makin' her move again, I'm gonna kick your ass," Kerry grumbled, completely unthreatening sounding. Oh no, he just sounded like he was annoyed and sleepy.

"Can I buy a little feel with an oreo or two?"

"I paid for those oreos, Jamie."

"Doesn't mean I can't use them as currency here~"

"You can feel her later. I wanna sleep without her kicking the shit outta me."

With a short, amused laugh, Jamison would let it go with a nod. Instead, he'd settle for leaning in to press a kiss to Kerry's cheek. Happy with that, he'd rest his head down on his own pillow again.

"Get some rest, then. I'm not gonna stop ya."

C R A S H!

The loud, booming noise was what would shock Kerry into waking. The house shook with the noise, though it wouldn't last very long at all. Shorter than most earthquakes Kerry had ever experienced. Was that just the thunder? Fucking hell… Whatever it was, it was very quickly replaced by the sound of heavy falling rain.

Bringing a hand up, he'd rub away some of the sleep from his left eye.

It was dark. A lot darker than it'd been before he'd fallen asleep. Made sense, he guessed. They'd gotten home at around 7, or something, but there'd still been some daylight out. Whatever time it was now, it was past sundown.

He was alone now, too. And given he didn't hear Jamison running up the steps to check on him, he must've known the sound was just thunder, too. He must've gotten up at some point before him. God he hoped he cooked something, because he was so fucking hungry.

Palming around in the dark, Kerry looked around for his phone. It would take him a few attempts, a couple of very uncomfortable movements before he finally found it. Turning the screen on, his eyes would squint at the bright light in his face. No messages, but he did see the current time. 9:37 PM. Great. Time to get up and call Jamison, then.

Before he could manage that, though, he felt the sharp, tightening pain of his newest contraction. Fuck, he'd forgotten about that. It was a lot worse than before, leaving him gripping tightly at his phone and groaning low as he felt the contraction caused the baby's head to put pressure on his pelvis. Yep, fuck… definitely happening. He really was gonna be up all fucking night doing this, huh?

Hopefully it would at least stop raining by this morning when they'd try the hospital again. He wasn't looking forward to it, but Kerry knew it needed to happen. Maybe he could get through going there without having an anxiety attack the second go around.

Once the pain finally ended and he caught his breath again, Kerry held his phone up again to start pulling up Jamison's contact. A moment later, he'd call him.

Like before, barely a ring went through before it was answered.

"Hey, baby," Jamison's voice cooed, speaking a bit louder than normal, "did that crazy thunder wake you?"

"Mmhm…" Kerry drowsily affirmed. "Are you making dinner? Or did ya already? I'm hungry."

"I just made myself a sandwich, but I could whip something up for you. What're you and Kel hungry for?"

Dinner was made, dinner was eaten, and a lot more contractions came during it all.

Jamison became the time keeper of the contractions by that point, since Kerry couldn't be bothered with it while he was in pain anymore. By about 10:40 PM, they were coming just about every 8 or 9 minutes. Kerry could tell that was making Jamison just a bit nervous. After all, it hadn't even been 12 hours since his first contraction showed its ugly head, and they were already in the single digits.

"That's alright, though," Jamison assured as he thought about things out loud to Kerry, "because labor could always stall. I know second babies usually come quicker, but I doubt that accounts for when you have 16 years between them. So… who knows! It'll be ok. If anything, we could probably call Trauma Team to come pick us up. Everything'll be alright." Sounded like Jamison needed a bit more of the reassurance than he did.

"Fuckin' hope not. That'll be all over for fuckin' sure. "Kerry Eurodyne, taken away from his NC home by Trauma Team! Is something wrong with his baby?" I don't need it, we don't need it- I don't even wanna entertain the idea."

He'd watch as Jamison tensed slightly, hearing that. Wondering whether he should say something, or argue with him. No, probably wasn't the best idea. Not really now. They'd cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, he just had to stay calm for Kerry and help him make it through until the storm ended. As soon as the storm was at least mostly passed, they'd pile into the car and go for round two.

"We better be quick about it, then. 'Cause what I said stands: no car baby please, Ker. No hospital lobby baby. I could take a Trauma Team AV baby."

"Not like I can totally control when she decides to come. It's all on her."

"Then I'll tell her." Leaning in, Jamison pressed a kiss to the top of Kerry's bump. "Better stay in there, baby girl. Just 'til we get in a hospital room. 'Cause while your daddy is so smart and amazing– I'm a bit of a bumbling fool sometimes."

Kerry couldn't help but smile a bit, listening to him. Reaching out, he'd start to play a bit with the soft, dark coils of Jamison's hair.

"Don't say that… You're plenty smart, plenty amazing. No one else would've put up with me after this last year. Through the investigation, the unexpected baby… all the Johnny shit…" They both got a little quiet, with Jamison starting to sit up on the bed so he could focus on Kerry better. "You've done so much for me, and Derry…" Shit, his voice was beginning to crack. He noticed Jamison's expression softening with the audible sound of it. "...and now you're gonna be an amazing father to Kelvy."

"Ker…" Jamison breathed, smiling at him warmly and then reaching out his hand to cradle the back of his head. He guided him closer to him, then pressed a kiss to his lips. "Don't even know what to say to all of that. I love you, though. Got no idea how fucking excited I am to have this baby with you."

"I love you, too," Kerry croaked, closing more of the distance between them so he could rest his head against Jamison's shoulder blade. Jamison cupped Kerry's jaw, looking down at him and then pressing a kiss to his forehead.

The peace wouldn't last for long, unfortunately. Another contraction came, and suddenly the way he was against Jamison was not ok any longer. He'd pull away, giving himself enough space to deal with it himself. He pressed his hand against the side of his belly, rocking back and forth slightly as he'd whine and groan through the nearly minute long contraction.

"No wonder why I– ooh –didn't do this shit for– ah, shit –so fucking long… Forgot how much this hurts." Blowing out a breath, he'd whine a bit as he leaned back against the mountain of pillows that had been constructed for him while he was eating dinner.

"Really getting to actually deal with your labor this go around, too. Not just hide it from your bandmates."

"Jamison Kai I'm going to eviscerate you." He couldn't help but laugh after that, thankfully not taking the threat seriously at all.

"I know you will, baby. I'm sorry. Just love teasing you. Just so damn wild ta me."

"I was 19 and stupid as hell," Kerry huffed as he would relax with the muscles in his stomach and back, "and under contract to play that stupid concert. Suits were super pissy Derry came early, too. Had to cancel the last two gigs."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me… Least MSM is helping you out now. Givin' you the time you need after everything, and especially to take care of Kelvy."

"Don't get too used to the kindness. Ain't gonna last for too long. But… yeah, at least I've still got a job 'cause of them." He was a hot commodity, despite being dropped by Universal Music with the whole everything bullshit. For a time, at least, they were gonna do anything to keep Kerry happy. He was expecting for his new manager to start "subtly" mentioning a tour or new album by the time Kelvy was a month or two old.

"I'm sure it'll be alright. You know about all of that stuff. Doubt you'll get too screwed by them."

"Another problem for another day."

"You're right. Tomorrow's baby day. Gotta focus on that instead."

The storm raged on, as did Kerry's labor.

The wind by nearly 2 in the morning was hitting speeds of nearly 40 mph, while the rain was still pouring down. Kerry knew Jamison had been giving him updates on things, but honestly? He hadn't been paying attention. With his contractions making it down to 5 minutes apart, not a whole lot was making it through his head and staying for long.

Pacing, swaying, lying down, and kneeling, Kerry had done just about everything he'd desperately wanted to do while he was in labor with Derry. Maybe it wasn't the best idea when they wanted Kelvy to stay where she was until the storm passed, but he'd needed it. He'd needed the movement and help so badly. Even still, she was coming far slower than her older sister did.

Jamison had only maybe been downstairs for 2 minutes to refill Kerry's water bottle when he heard Kerry groaning loudly from upstairs again. The volume wasn't what alarmed him, but the fact that it had taken so little time for that contraction to come. With that signal, he'd race toward the steps and up them all over again. He got to the room and saw Kerry standing, hunched over the bed, and his sweatpants were drenched.

"Oh my god, this hurts SO BAD!" Kerry groaned through gritted teeth. Another thing going better than Derry's labor: his water broke before he got the urge to push. Thank the fucking lord for that.

"I know, baby," Jamison told him softly, setting the water bottle down and joining Kerry at his side. Like he had for the last several contractions, he'd put counterpressure on the small of his pack. To Kerry's joy, while this was one of the worst ones he's experienced so far, it was also one of the shortest. He'd feel the pain start to fade within just a few seconds of Jamison coming over to help.

And so with it ending, he'd carefully straighten himself up again and finally feel the disgusting warmth seeping into his sweatpants, boxers, and hear it puddling on the floor. This was so much more gross than last time.

"Couldn't have even waited 'til I made it to the bathroom, Kelvy? Little brat." He briefly scowled down at his stomach, patting it and then looking to his mainline. "Don't think it's piss."

"Didn't figure it was. Here, lemme get some clean clothes for you and get you all figured out."

"Might need a pad or two, too… water's still leaking."

"Alright, good to know. Wanna head into the bathroom to clean up a little?"

"Way ahead of ya," Kerry agreed, starting his waddle of shame toward their attached bathroom.

Catching a look at himself in the mirror, it was hard for Kerry not to grin at himself. Even exhausted and sweaty, he was looking hot as hell. Expected. It was him, after all. That was one thing in both pregnancies that'd never happened, the dreaded drop in self-esteem and feeling unattractive. Oh, no. Kerry Eurodyne knew he was hot as fuck, even while he was just hours away from giving birth.

…Might look a little hotter without the disgusting amniotic fluid soaked pants, though.

Taking hold of the waist, he'd yank them down and let them drop. The same would go for his boxers a moment later. Fluid was still dripping out of him, making him grimace at the continuous warm, wet feelings on his thighs.

"I really don't wanna bend down right now, Jamie…"

"I gotcha, just gimme a sec. Are your pads in there, Ker?"

"Think so. They're probably under the sink."

Jamison followed Kerry into the bathroom, a new set of sweatpants and briefs in his hand. He handed them off to Kerry for him to hold, then leaned downward. Kerry stepped out of them, and then they were picked up. They were thrown in the hamper, and soon Jamison's attention was off elsewhere.

He approached the sink and squatted down in front of it, opening the cabinets and easily finding the pads. While Kerry hadn't had cycles in years, his accidents through this pregnancy were occasional. And so for the sake of at least avoiding some of the mess, they'd bought some.

Unwrapping one, Jamison would take the pair of briefs from Kerry and attach them in the middle.

"Alright, ready to get dressed?"

"Please. As nice as my ass looks, the dripping is fucking disgusting." With a quiet snicker, Jamison would just nod his head and kneel down. He wouldn't say a word about the trickling amniotic fluid, instead just reaching out for a towel to start wiping a bit at Kerry's thigh.

"Hi there, Kelvy. We meet again," Jamison cooed at Kerry's stomach. He pressed a kiss to it like he had before, then put his attention back on what he was doing. "Alright, ready? Hold onto something so you don't lose your balance."

"Ready. Just gotta be quick. No clue when the next contraction is comin'."

They'd manage to get Kerry dressed before his next contraction, thankfully. This one had a 4 minute gap from the last. Longer than before, but still shorter than 5. Fuck, things were really getting close, and far worse now that his water had broken.

Things were getting dicey, but it really didn't seem like the storm would be letting up soon. Kerry could tell it was really making Jamison nervous.

"So… any pressure yet?" Jamison would apprehensively ask.

"There's pressure with basically every contraction, babe," Kerry panted out softly, working to catch his breath after that last one. "If you're askin' if I need to push, though, no. Definitely not. Just feels like they're tryin' their best to try to get her out, but I'm clearly not open enough."

"Ok. Ok! I can work with that. As long as we're not pushin' a baby out yet."

"Not yet."

"...You're sure you really don't wanna deal with Trauma Team?"

"Doubt they'd wanna fuck around in this storm right now anyway, Jamie." Kerry started to walk out of the bathroom, taking a towel with him to sop up some of the amniotic flood still soaking into their carpet. No red, at least. The midwife had said that was a good sign. "Could always possibly hold out 'til the storm clears, but we gotta entertain the idea that we might just end up having her here."

Following Kerry out, Jamison would silently urge Kerry to sit so he could take care of the mess. They could always get a carpet cleaner for this if the stain didn't come out immediately. Really, he didn't give too much of a fuck about it. The idea of the baby being born here, though, was terrifying. But, Kerry was right. It might just end up happening.

"Least it's not a car birth or a hospital lobby birth," he joked weakly.

It was happening here. That much was more than clear.

Even if the storm ended relatively soon, he knew it'd take forever for him to even be able to get to the car. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything but groan and claw at whatever was closest to him. As it was clearly getting close, the panic was starting to settle in, though.

Even with the short nap he'd managed to have earlier, he was still absolutely exhausted. Exhausted, anxious from his thoughts wandering, and overwhelmed by the emotions he felt pounding at his psyche. He was trying so fucking hard to be ok, but his mind couldn't help but wander. He didn't want him there, but god he was so miserable with the knowledge that this baby would never know Johnny.

But it was probably for the best, right?

There'd been such sweet moments between Johnny and Derry, but in the end? Derry had been terrified of him. His drug fueled rages, their explosive fights, and the self-destruction displayed. It'd all been so much on a little girl, even as a 15, 16 year old. He knew she still had nightmares about him. He'd never hurt her physically, never went after her. Never intentionally did anything to her, but Kerry knew how much she feared him. She wasn't the only one.

But for Kelvy to not be able to meet one of the most pivotal people in his life felt so wrong. He couldn't hold back his tears as he came to that realization.

Jamison, who'd been starting to set everything up for when Kelvy was on her way, took notice as the cries grew in volume. They were muffled by their sheets, with Kerry kneeling down over a few towels and hunched over them with his folded arms as supports.

"Hey-hey-hey…" Setting the freshly sanitized pair of scissors down, Jamison was quick to join Kerry's side. He, too, would kneel beside him. Leaning over slightly, he'd tilt his head sideways to get a look at Kerry. "Kerbear, what's wrong? … Please, baby, talk to me."

Kerry just sobbed, unable to hold it back now. It would only persist with the next contraction. Jamison wouldn't pester him during it, feeling his blunt nails digging into his wrist through the length of it. Instead, he'd just stroke the back of Kerry's hand with his thumb.

"Good job, Kerry," he praised, voice even softer than how it usually was through the pain. "You're doing it, baby, you're doing it."

Sharply inhaling with the end of it, he'd let out another sob. Time to try again.

"Ker, baby, why are you crying?"

The words he spoke were nearly incomprehensible. Mucked up by mumbles, sobs, and excess spittle. Jamison rubbed his back gently.

"I can't– she'll never know him, Jamie!" That was all that Jamison finally managed to understand from it all, causing his brow to furrow with mild confusion.

"What? Know him? Do you mean… Johnny?"

"Yes!" Kerry pulled away from Jamison's touch, letting himself sit back down onto the towel beneath him. "Kelvy's never gonna know him. Kelvy's never gonna know he wasn't just a gigantic asshat. She's gonna go through life, go through school– gettin' taught that Johnny Silverhand, Robert John Linder, was nothin' but a fuckin' terrorist. And he wasn't! He WASN'T, JAMIE!"

C R A S H!

As if it were on cue, a brand new crash of thunder was heard. Even the world itself was warning him to stop this shit, to stop wasting his tears on Johnny Silverhand.

"Shh… Kerry…" Jamison Kai really didn't like Johnny Silverhand. He hadn't liked how he'd treated Kerry. He hated that Kerry still loved Johnny so much, but what could he do? That was Kerry's best friend. His first love. It wasn't hard to see why he was so broken up by it all.

"He was just sick. That war fucked him up, Jamie… 'Saka took everything from him. They killed Alt, destroyed his mind, and killed him. I'm not saying he was right for doin' what he did, but I can't rightly fuckin' blame him either! And I fucking hate more than anything that I'm gonna have ta hold my tongue around people, around her. 'Cause if these fuckers in this city find out my baby girl is talkin' positively about Johnny Silverhand, they're gonna eat her alive."

"Ker. C'mon, baby, let's breathe. I know you're so, so upset right now. I understand that, but– fuck, this isn't the time." He hated having to say that to him, but this was about Kerry and Kelvy. Nothing about any of this had anything to do with Johnny. "I am more than happy to listen to you, but you need to focus."

Focus? Focus. … Damn it. Kerry knew he was right. He wanted to be irrational and just fucking sob until he cried himself to sleep, but he knew that wasn't going to happen tonight. His baby was coming soon, and he needed to be aware and there for her, as much as his own heart was hurting.

"Just… hold me for a while. Plea–" Kerry paused, his eyes growing wide with a rush of nausea hitting him. With the first gag, Jamison was quick to reach back behind him for the waste basket beside the bed. He'd put it in front of Kerry, where he'd only just barely manage to vomit into it. Grimacing at the sight and noise, Jamison remained though. He held the waste basket for him, while his free hand would hold onto Kerry's hair and make sure it stayed out of his face.

He remembered this. What had the midwife said? Something about throwing up being normal near the end. Transition? Fuck, he really should call her. At least then he might be able to get a little bit of guidance for when the baby comes.

They were really getting to the end here, huh?

Watching Kerry finally lift his head up, Jamison offered him a tired smile.

"Water?"

"Yeah… fuck… Sorry, wasn't exp- expectin' that…"

"No apologies needed, Ker. Still wanna be held and cry a little while longer? Seems like Kelvy might be coming soon, if that's any indication." Picking up the water bottle from the bedside table behind him, he'd offer it out to Kerry.

His first swig was to rinse his mouth, with that almost immediately being spit back out into the wastebasket. Jamison set it off to the side again, watching as Kerry would take a few small sips of water. It was handed back off once he was done, and so the quiet, comforting cuddles would commence.

Kerry spent a few contractions sitting in Jamison's lap, groaning out loudly and feeling that pressure deepen. Oh, yeah. He remembered this. It was definitely getting close.

"She's soooo fucking looooow…" Kerry groaned finally through one of them. "She- she's… ohh… she's…" Kerry briefly went silent, eyes closing as he kept himself resting against Jamison's shoulder. His body grew tense for just a couple of seconds, and his eyes would snap open as soon as he realized what was going on.

"Ohh, oh shit- J– Jamie, I'm pushing. I'm super fucking serious, I'm…" Kerry grunted and grit his teeth, tucking his chin in slightly as he'd be unable to fight that urge.

In the meantime, Jamison's eyes went wide with terror at the sound of that. Oh! Ok! This was happening now! Baby time. Kelvy time.

"Please do not push her out on me, Ker!" He told him, joking more than anything else. "That's the one thing I'm drawing a li–"

"Jamison Kai, shut the fuck up and help!"

Not a time to be joking. Right! Got it. Jamison instead would help Kerry back onto his knees and over the towels he set up. He would move back, moving the wastebasket off to a different side of them again and then settled himself right behind Kerry.

"Jamie, I– ohhh… I need ya to… check…"

"Hold that thought, Ker. I'm gonna call the midwife. Fuck, I don't know where I put my phone…"

…

What?

"Jamison, she is coming out now. Either fucking catch her or–" Kerry let out a groan, loud in volume and deep in pitch. It was more than enough to freak Jamison out enough to convince him to stay right by Kerry. Yep, nope. No phone, no midwife right now. It was time to get this over with whether they liked it or not.

"What did you want me to check, Ker?"

Through grit teeth, Kerry would shake his head and growl out his next words. "Just… catch… her head is right there!"

"Ok! Ok…" Jamison lowered his head down to get a look between Kerry's legs, where he'd see a tiny bit of their daughter's head. Oh god. She was…

A loud grunt would be what erupted out of Kerry next. His body shook as he felt the head being pushed out of him. Reaching around his round belly to feel beneath him, the tips of his fingers would make contact with something hard, wet, and had hair that was definitely not his.

"She's crowning, Kerbear. You've… you've got this."

"Catch. Her."

"I will, baby. Pr– oh!"

With an involuntary push this time, the baby's head would pop out of Kerry's body. Both his and Jamison's eyes went wide, while Jamison's heads would launch forth to start to lightly cradle their daughter's head with his hands.The wet, hairy feeling was enough to make his stomach turn. No time to be sick, Kai. Gotta deliver your kid.

"Is she out?" Kerry gasped, trying to look back.

"Her head is, Ker. Holy shit. You're doing this! You're doing it!"

With a disappointed sigh, Kerry rested his head down against his folded arms in front of him. It was time for a short break. A moment of rest before they could get this over with.

Even before he pushed again, he could feel her turning. It was a feeling he remembered the most vividly from Derry's birth. It was also a feeling that made him grimace with just how bizarre it felt.

He would have about 20 seconds of reprieve before the contraction returned with a vengeance. His body wanted Kelvy out of him just as much as he did.

"C– C'mon, baby…" Kerry gritted out as his body did much of the pushing for him. "Time ta… meet your dads." Pushing with the contraction, Kelvy's first shoulder slipped out, very quickly followed by the second one. One last effort and it was over.

There was a rush, a release, a relief. More fluid rushing out of him, and a stunned gasp from behind him.

And then, there it was.

CRASH!

They were all startled by the crack of thunder. Not as loud as some of the others they'd had all night, but far more than enough to give Kelvy her first little burst of terror. She'd already been crying the moment she made it out of her father's body and into her dad's trembling hands, but it only intensified after the thunder clap.

"O-oh…" Jamison let out a tearful chuckle from behind Kerry. Kerry could feel just a bit of resistance from the umbilical cord, so he could tell he was holding her. Good… but, that was his baby. He wanted to see his baby.

"Keep her… outta my way, Jamie… I'm gonna turn around." With careful maneuvering, he'd be able to sit himself down on the stained pink and red towel below him. Once settled, he would finally be able to get a good look at the squalling baby girl that'd just made her way into this world.

"Oh, my baby… Happy birthday, Kelvy. Kelvy Kai Eurodyne."

There she was. So tiny, just like her big sister. So utterly perfect, just like her big sister. There was nothing he was looking to more than for the moment where his daughters got to meet each other. His girls, his treasures.

#emmi writes #mayternity #birth kink #mpreg #tmpreg

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gwynrielsupremacist · 3 years ago

Text

A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 1: Voices

Read at AO3.

Gwyn's afternoon couldn't get any worse.

First of all, the morning's training had been horrendous.

Three weeks after the Blood Rite, Cassian and Azriel had thought it was time to start practicing again, since according to them, they had made a lot of mistakes that could very well have cost them their lives.

She was still alive, just like Nesta and Emerie, so at least one thing they had done well, survive.

After 3 weeks of not doing any sports, it was noticeable when you came back with all the energy, especially on a day where the sun was literally burning.

She noticed as she did push-ups that morning how her arms were trembling dangerously, the sweat running down the curve of her breasts, soaking the shirt she had worn.

Gwyn had promised herself that she would go out into the outside world.

That year she had made a lot of progress, she supposed she should be ready to enter society again, but no.

After the events in the Blood Rite, what she wanted was to lock herself in the darkest corner of the library, with a good book, and stay there to live.

Obviously, she couldn't do that. But she would have liked it.

With all the sore muscles, having failed almost all the obstacles the two Illyrians put them, showing a regrettable endurance in each and every one of the exercises, she had to go down to the library to have a pleasant chat with Merrill, who did not understand why her performance hadn't been 100% in recent weeks.

"I don't know, Merrill. Maybe because they pulled me out of bed against my will, left me in the middle of a forest full of Illyrians, while I had to fight to stay safe, as well as having to kill people? Maybe because I had never left the library after Sangravah, and I suddenly found myself in the same situation? " She reasoned, trying to control her pulse, having remembered the events in the Blood Rite.

She detested Merrill.

More than anyone else, she hated her. She often thought that life would be so much easier if people like Merrill just didn't exist.

After leaving her a ton of work to do, the female disappeared, leaving Gwyn with about seven books resting in her arms, already numb from the morning exercises.

She ran to the nearest table, relieved when she put the books down, with a thud.

She rubbed her dazed hands, wincing at the pile of books that awaited her to spend hours and hours together.

She had to research one of Merrill's new obsessions, the ancient and forgotten Prythian gods.

"I didn't even know they existed", she opined, opening a random book to a random page, flipping through the contents.

She got dizzy from so much information she did not understand, closing the pages with force, grabbing a cart that was nearby, leaving the volumes in it and going to her room, to calmly read those pages and pages of useless information, and then do a chapter-by-chapter summary for Merrill.

"Great, it's a good way to spend your free time if you love reading junk." She groaned as she carefully lowered the cart down the stairs.

"It is not junk. It is information that may be useful at some point", answered her subconscious.

At least she thought it was her subconscious.

She didn't remember when she had started to hear that voice, just one day it had appeared, and now it was considered the voice of reason.

Everything that voice said, it was true.

"I know, but I don't know how knowing which are the main and forgotten gods of Prythian is going to solve my problems." She attacked, greeting one priestess that came close to her, passing by her side.

The voice fell silent, apparently it had nothing more to add.

At least Gwyn could answer the voice in her mind. It would have been a strange thing to see a person argue with herself.

Upon reaching the room, which was a simple square with a bed, a wooden desk with a wooden chair that had more splinters than wood itself, and a modest closet, also made of wood.

Yeah, in summer the termites would destroy all the furniture if she wasn't careful.

Closing the door with the latch, one of the little luxuries she had on it, she put the books down with a thump, brushing her hands on the skirts of the gown, which was already heavily encrusted with dust.

She thought of taking off that long dress, which after so many washes the initial blue had ended up in an almost invisible gray, but she did not feel like going to the common baths of the priestesses, because every time she went there, they peppered her with questions about the Blood Rite.

And the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

So she collapsed on the bed, pulling back the covers and hugging the pillow with one arm, as she got into a fetal position.

"You have to go out, you can't hide in the bedroom all afternoon." It protested, to which she responded very kindly with a growl as she turned, trying to make it understand that she was going to do whatever she wanted.

"Alright then. If you get caught between the sheets and can't get out, don't come running to ask me for help." it threatened.

Gwyn didn't know how she was going to ask for help to a voice. It was disembodied, how the hell was she going to beg for help if she didn't even know what that murmur was?

She rolled over on the bed, rubbing her eyes and exhaling, disappointed.

She hated not being able to get out of that damn room.

She hated her insecurity and her irrational fear.

"It is not irrational, Gwyn." It assured her.

"Leave me alone." She begged, getting it to shut up.

She lay on her stomach, breathing deeply.

She looked at the time on the only clock in the room, located above the closet.

19.36.

It appears that she had a lot of time to do absolutely nothing.

Maybe she was going to pick up a book that Nesta and Emerie were reading.

Honestly, she was dying to sink her teeth into one that had caught her attention. According to her description, a maiden sent by the gods fell in love with her bodyguard...

Determined, she bolted upright, unlocking the latch, happily heading for the book.

There would be time to examine the books Merrill had passed her.

Anyway, she had a lot of time, reading something that interested her was not going to do anything bad to everyone.

With a broad grin, she made it to the fiction book section. She opened one of the books, tucking her nose between the pages, an exhale escaping from her lips when she smelled the wonderful book scent.

Her gaze sparking, she searched for the novel she was looking for.

"Didn't you forget something?" It asked.

She stopped short in the middle of the shelves, alarming a passing priestess.

Bowing her head in apology, she went back to searching, her eyes narrowing as she searched the thousands of spins with her eyes, finding none that bore the name of the book she was looking for.

"I don't have any errands to deliver to Merrill." She snapped, frowning when she finally found it.

It was at the top of the shelf.

She made a long face, standing on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as far as she could as she stuck her tongue out, focused.

"I don't mean Merrill, Gwyneth."

"Mysterious voice, what are you talking about?" The priestess demanded in a tired voice. She did not arrive. Why did they make the shelves so high? It was not possible that someone could reach them.

Although, don't get it wrong, Gwyn adored the voice. It was equal to the voice that we all have within us guiding us.

The problem was that the voice that she had was a little… annoying.

She looked at the shelves next to the floor, no books in sight.

Maybe if she got on them…?

She put one foot on it, skipping little hops as she judged whether the bookcase was going to fall or not.

Realizing that it was unlikely, she lifted her other foot, raising her heels as much as she could while she stretched out her arm, feeling her muscles go numb.

A little more ... just a little more ...

"You remember that your friend Nesta has a mate, right? And that you promised them that you would go to her ceremony?" As soon as she finished the sentence, Gwyn stopped.

Shit.

Seriously, had she forgotten that?

"There is still time… There are five days until the ceremony." The voice tried to calm her down, but nothing was going to do it now.

She jumped down from the shelf, as she began to walk from one place to another, in circles.

She had to go.

She couldn't do that to Nesta.

"I don't even have a dress. What am I going to wear?" Alarmed, she slightly stretched the strands of her coppery hair, thinking of a way to solve all the problems that had suddenly befallen her.

I have to leave the library to go to the mating ceremony.

The female began to hyperventilate, forgetting the book that she had held less than 3 centimeters from her hands.

That was far more important.

"I can't tell Nesta that I forgot about her mating ceremony. I can't do that to her." Gwyn protested, running her hands over her face, rubbing her temples angrily, forcing herself to search for solutions and solutions and solutions.

But neither of them was going to work.

She had to get out of there, no priestess was going to leave her a suitable dress for the mating ceremony.

But she couldn't go alone. She did not dare to go down to the city alone.

Emerie couldn't help her. It had started the illyrian high-selling season and the illyrian needed the money. She only went to training, then she quickly returned to her store, not staying a minute longer than necessary.

Cassian and Nesta were completely out of the question.

Azriel...

"Ask him." The voice advised.

She needed to name that voice. She could not continue calling it "the voice", that was beginning to be uncomfortable.

"Maybe he can help you get the dress." It continued.

Would it be male or female? Or rather, what the hell was it?

"Are you listening to me?"

She definitely had no idea what it was.

"What are you?" Gwyn questioned, curious as she left the fiction section behind, walking aimlessly through the library.

She loved to wander aimlessly through the thousands of bookshelves, silent priestesses, the whisper of books her only company.

Besides that voice, of course.

"Have you heard anything I've said to you in the last two minutes?" Her voice roared.

"I've heard nonsense, so no, I haven't heard anything." She claimed. "But anyway, you haven't answered my question. What are you?"

"I am everything and I am nothing at the same time."

Now was it was being funny with her?

She rolled her eyes, annoyed "That is not an answer."

"It's an answer if you know how to interpret it." It answered.

She rolled her eyes again.

"Well, at least tell me what I can call you, it's uncomfortable to think of you as 'The voice'" She asked.

The voice fell silent, which she thought meant the end of the conversation.

She decided to head over to her room, assuming she should start Merrill's work, until 'the Voice' answered her.

"Elián"

Gwyn stood in the middle of the bedroom hall

"That is your name?" She asked.

"My real name would burn your lips if you were able to pronounce it" It replied. "But yes, Elián is my name, and I am 'him', I have noticed how you struggled because you did not know if I was a man or a woman. The definition of gender is much more complicated than that, but it will be enough".

"G-Good." She answered.

Elián was quiet at last, leaving her with her own thoughts, as she opened the door, her own scent of jasmine feeling welcoming.

And the proposal he had made, although obviously she had ignored it, she was not wrong to consider.

Perhaps the Shadowsinger would help her out, aiding her finding a decent dress for her.

She closed the crank behind her, sitting on the small bed, wondering if it would be smart to ask him, risking him saying no, or not asking him and risking not having a dress for the ceremony.

Sighing, she figured she should go to the bathrooms to get the sensation of dust - and the dust itself - off her body, so she grabbed change clothes and headed there, deciding at that moment that tomorrow she would ask the Spymaster if he could accompany her to buy a dress.

Inside her, she could feel Elián nodding his head, giving his approval.

TAG LIST (tell me if you want to be tagged or deleted) @bookish-isha @imsointobooks @shisingh @feyretale @niaacotar @flora-shadowshine @tealnymph24 @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @meher-sumedha @heyovivi @positivewitch @greywarens-magician @sageofthegalaxy @valkygwyn @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @genya-berdara @katekatpattywack @frulyall @mercurianbisous @rainbowcheetah512

#omg here's the first chapter #i hope you like it <3 #gwynriel #my fic #acolas #acosf #acotar #nessian #elucien #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel #gwyn berdara #gwyn #gwyneth berdara

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years ago

Text

Wash Day

Yall I just really want Trisskel to be a solid couple from like, day one and be happy and in love and hhhnnngggg. I have feelings. (specifically Netflix Triss and Game Eskel)

Summary: Modern AU Eskel helps Triss with wash day when she cant use her arms.

Warnings: Mentions of burn injuries and burns in healing process, nothing gorey, just the mention of scabs, temporary dependency, dealing with the shitty mental part of recovering from major injuries/surgeries - not fucking bathing, eskel is not flexible and tries so hard to do things right. bless, lol swearing as is usual

I’d like to put a little disclaimer that I did a bunch of natural hair care research for this but I have no experience save from helping my friend diffuse her hair before class.

________________

Triss groaned and tossed her phone to the other end of the couch she was perched on, wiping her one good hand over her face. Her burns over her chest still weren’t allowing her much range of motion with her right arm and her hair was starting to drive her absolutely insane. Yennefer was going to come over and help with wash day, but Ciri got in a fight at school, leaving Triss to sit with an itchy, ratted, and, frankly, horrendous head of hair.

She leaned her head back against the arm of the couch and sighed, not even able to adjust the bun Eskel had helped her with that morning.

Speaking of…

She scooted over the couch to pick up her phone, tapping the little call icon under his nickname, “Hey, Yen can’t come over tonight. No need to pick up the wine,” she sighed.

“Are you sure? Nothing wrong with a little treat, babe.”

“I’m sure. It was more for her efforts than my treat anyway.”

“If you say so… How are you feeling?”

“Less shit than this morning. I’m just tired,” she didn’t add the feeling of hopelessness that went along with not even being able to bathe on her own. He worried enough for the both of them and then some.

“I’m picking up the good wine. I’ve got one more client then I’m done. Maybe take a nap?”

“Skel…”

“I will spoil you if I want to. Oh! Look! There’s my 3:30! Bye Bug! Love you!” he hung up on her before she could protest.

She rolled her eyes as she lowered the phone into her lap, smiling a little despite her annoyance.

Gingerly, she made her way to their bedroom and laid down, running the risk of taking out the bun to lay comfortably. She turned on a podcast she told Jask she’d listen to and hoped to zone out at the least, if not actually sleep.

Triss was woken by Eskel stomping in their front door and dropping his gym bag with a dramatic thud. A few moments later she could hear grocery bags settling on the kitchen counter, the distinct sound of wine bottles bumping together reminding her what he probably had planned.

She ever so slowly tipped over and pushed herself up with her left hand, catching a horrifying full-body reflection in the mirrored closet doors.

The scabs and little spots that were still bandaged she was starting to get used to, but the rest of her? Looking at herself in sweats that hadn’t been changed in two days, a summer tank top with no bra and coffee stains, and mismatching fuzzy christmas socks was… difficult. Her hair was wild, all the curls stretched out and sticking together in big frizzy clumps that stuck out at odd angles.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had only been four weeks. No one was going to be back to normal after four weeks. Her body was using all its energy to heal, not look put together.

Regardless of her efforts she felt the tears well up in her eyes and her breath hitch with the effort of holding them back.

It still fucking sucked.

Eskel’s soft touch on her thigh made her jump, “Is it hurting again?”

She shook her head, opening her eyes to see him knelt in front of her with his eyebrows drawn up in worry, “No. I’m okay,” she whispered, pulling herself together and resting her hand over his.

Eskel tilted his head, “Then what’s wrong?”

“I… I look like I fell down the garbage chute,” she laughed. It wasn’t her usual, musical laugh, though. She laughed because she knew, in the grand scheme of things, it was ridiculous. It felt stupid to be worried about how she looked when she’d lived and, well, laughing was better than more tears.

“You’re always lovely to me,” Eskel hummed, brushing her tears away with the back of his knuckles.

She leaned into his touch and took a steadying breath, “I just don’t feel like me.”

He stretched up to kiss her forehead, “I’m sorry, Bug.”

She just shrugged and squeezed his hand.

“Yen called. I got a very long lecture on wash day and firm orders to help you wash and deep condition your hair. If you’re feeling up to it,” Eskel flashed that crooked grin she could never resist and she shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Are you prepared to follow instructions?” she teased.

“Babe,” he raised one eyebrow, “the only instructions I don’t follow are on Top Ramen packs.”

Eskel seemed to have confused ‘instruction’ with ‘directions’.

“I swear to God, Eskel. You don’t have to read the ‘how to use’ blurb,” Triss groaned, sitting on a kitchen chair they’d moved into the bathroom with dripping wet hair, “Just section off my hair and do what I tell you.”

“But I don’t want to use too much,” he protested, “This says to use one tablespoon!”

“Yeah! For natural blondes! I have completely different hair and know what I’m doing. Use half the bottle! I don’t care! Just get it fucking clean!”

Eskel rested his hand on her good shoulder and gave her an apologetic look in the mirror, “I’m sorry. How many sections do you want?”

“I- it’s not a number. You just- kneel down for me I’ll show you,” she pointed at the floor next to her and sighed, missing Yen more than ever. She drew little lines with her nails through Eskel’s hair as she explained just how to scrub while making the least amount of tangles possible. He watched her in the mirror and pointed to the points on her scalp she was talking about with a look of serious concentration.

It was cute. Even if he was a little inflexible he really did want to do a good job.

Conditioner was easier, even combing out the tangles went fairly smooth. They took a break and made dinner, breaking open the good wine.

Just having her hair down and somewhat bouncy again made Triss feel a million times better. The sweats were exchanged for yoga pants and the tank top for one of Eskel’s sweaters too. It almost felt normal.

They ate ice cream while he worked the deep conditioning mask through her hair.

“You sure I’m not using too much?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder to take the bite she held up for him, nice and small so he didn’t get a brain freeze.

“Fbe moreb fbe bedder,” she tried speaking around a giant bite of ice cream, giggling at the face of confusion he made with the spoon still sticking out of his mouth.

She swallowed and scrunched her nose at the light brain freeze, “The more, the better. We’ll rinse it out in the morning and I don’t want any dry spots.”

He nodded and waited for her to take the spoon back before getting back to work, “Yes ma’am.”

“Mmm, I like that.”

Eskel rolled his eyes as she let down a new section, “Oh do you, now? I had no idea.”

“Mhm!” she nodded with a proud smile, taking another bite of ice cream and earning a chuckle from him.

She walked him through a couple rough twists and adjusting the plastic soaking cap before attempting to explain how to tie a headscarf. He was… truly awful. Somehow she ended up almost blindfolded before she just gave up and found him a video to follow. It took him a few tries, but eventually he got it the right level of snug. I

She tried to tilt her head back to look at him but that pulled at some of her new scar tissue, so she tried another angle and another before she huffed and resorted to standing up to look at him, “Thank you Skel.”

“No problem, Bug,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her nose.

Triss laid her head on his chest, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on top of her head, “No, I mean it. It… helps. A lot.”

He rubbed soothing circles over her back, swaying them slightly, “I’m just glad I could do something…” he took a breath like he wanted to say something more but settled for pressing a kiss to the sloppily tied scarf. She hummed and leaned into him, snaking her hands around his hips and up under his shirt to rest over his back dimples.

Triss could have stayed there forever.

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

Fanny Pack Sexiness (Nessian Smut)

Prompt: *sensually unclips fanny pack* this is weird, i know. but i just saw a tweet and i thought if anyone could write this, it would be you.

Laughed so hard when I read this. If this isn’t Nessian, I don’t know what is. NSFW warning because I do love a fanny pack moment ;)

_________________________________________________________

Nesta glared out the window, keeping her unspoken vow to not look over at the atrocity that was her boyfriend.

Well, that wasn’t not fair.

The boyfriend himself was actually pretty nice to look at.

Broad shoulders, a tall frame filled with meaty muscle, curly brown hair, and golden eyes made him interesting enough, she supposed.

But it was what the bastard had chosen to wear that had driven her insane all day.

The monstrosity was strapped around his waist currently, and she could’ve sworn it was laughing up at her.

Consider this the first and last time she would ever travel with him.

Because since it wasn’t obvious enough they were American, Cassian had chosen to wear a fanny pack. Over an I <3 LONDON shirt. Which he’d paired with khakis.

He looked like the cover of a tourist’s guide made for forty year-old, single men who lived with their mothers.

And she knew it was at least partly her fault he was dressed so stupidly, but she refused to apologize.

Last night, they’d been heading out to dinner, when she commented that almost always, he wore all black. Honestly, it wasn’t even a complaint, considering she was guilty of the same thing.

Why bother trying to put together prints and fabrics and colors, when black looked so nice on her?

Anyway. She hadn’t been complaining. Teasing, but not complaining.

But noooo. He’d immediately gotten that annoying, competitive look in his eyes that both made her smile and want to strangle him.

“What would you like me to wear, Nesta?” he’d asked, golden eyes practically glowing.

She’d sighed, probably making things worse. “I’m just saying, we look a little goth when we’re together.”

Cassian had just smiled down at her, then walked out of their room. She hadn’t thought any more of it when he’d slipped back in later that night, but then this morning, when he’d gotten dressed in the bathroom and opened the door with a flourish, she’d almost hit the floor.

He was not built for fanny packs and khakis.

He was built for... well, he was built to be naked all the time, but since that would probably get them sent back to the states, tight black shirts and jeans was a decent second option.

Plus, as if it weren’t bad enough already, he’d been adding to the ensemble all day, building up to the horrendous outfit she was currently avoiding looking at.

His faded combat boots had been replaced with flip flops. His hair was tucked under a very large hat with a Big Ben outline across the front. He’d even stopped to buy a fucking old-fashioned pipe from the William Blake exhibit they’d gone to see.

He was trying to drive her crazy.

But little did he know, she had a few tricks up her sleeve. After three years together, she knew how to drive him crazy, too.

So she’d plotted and schemed all day. And as they rode back to their hotel in the cab, it was finally time for it to come into play.

Trying to be discrete, she nodded at the driver.

Cassian’s eyes shot to her as the man slammed on the brakes. It had costed her twenty Euros, but seeing the look of shock on her boyfriend’s face was so worth it.

Especially as she shouted, “Drive him to the other side of the city and kick him out!”

And jumped from the cab.

It was still moving a little, but she’d been prepared and hit the ground at a run.

Manic laughter came out of her as Cassian turned around in the now-speeding cab, shouting something unintelligible back at her.

He wanted to dress like a tacky tourist and drive her crazy?

Fine.

She’d just have to show him what he was missing out on.

A little over an hour later, the door to their hotel room swung open, hitting the wall angrily.

“That asshole took me halfway to fucking Essex, then had the audacity to charge me for the ride. Next time you have someone kidnap me, at least pay the fee, woman! I swear-”

Whatever he was about to say lodged in his throat as he took a look at what she was wearing.

It was all new, and his eyes took in every piece of the wardrobe with a predatory gleam that sent her toes curling. But she acted unaffected, even as she bent down to fix the strap of her very high, very uncomfortable shoes.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice rough.

Straightening, she shrugged and fluffed her hair. “I’m going to dinner.”

“You mean we’re going to dinner.”

Finally.

Nesta turned towards her boyfriend, enjoying the way his eyes dipped to the almost indecent amount of cleavage on display.

She traced her eyes over his entire rumpled, touristy outfit. “I’m not going in public with you while I look like this and you look like that.”

His eyes narrowed as he finally caught on to what she’d done. “I’ll change then.”

It was a struggle not to laugh. “Well, you seemed so intent on replacing your wardrobe, I figured I’d help you out and dumped your suitcase.”

That was a lie. It was safely hidden down at the front desk.

“You did what?”

Ignoring the question, she said, “You’re welcome. And since you can neither change nor go like that, I guess I’ll just see you later.”

Making her way to the door, she was abruptly stopped by a hand smacking into the wall closest to her, an arm now blocking her path. “Nesta Archeron, you are not going out looking like a goddamn supermodel while I sit here with my thumbs up my ass.”

“How you fill the alone time is irrelevant to me, Cassian.”

His other hand made its way to the wall, too, caging her in.

“I know you wouldn’t throw my clothes out. Where are they? Tell me, and we’ll go to dinner.”

She shrugged, resolve to keep the secret building by the second.

She was aware they were both a little competitive, but she didn’t care. She was winning this, one way or the other. He’d admit he’d been wrong to dress like an idiot today, then--and only then--she’d give him his clothes back.

“I know what you’re doing,” he told her, the tone of his voice proving that it was working.

He was suddenly so close she couldn’t think about anything else.

Even dressed in head to toe tacky, he somehow managed to suck all the air out of her lungs.

One hand turned his hat backwards so the brim wouldn’t poke her, and he leaned in close enough to run his nose down her neck.

“Tell me, Nesta.”

“No.”

His teeth nipped at her skin, and she shivered. “Do I need to fuck it out of you?”

Gods, yes. Please.

That hadn’t been her plan at all, but her body was more than on board with it.

Except there was a bit of a problem.

“You are not fucking me with a fanny pack on, hate to break it to you.”

Cassian pulled back far enough to wink at her, then his mouth was on hers, dominating her in the way that she’d only ever let him do. He pressed her against the wall, chest tight against hers, as he slipped his tongue in her mouth.

Hands on her waist lifted her, and then she was being thrown halfway across the room onto the neatly-made bed.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she glared over at him.

“I was being serious, Cassian. You’re not getting any while you’re dressed like Uncle Sam.”

He swaggered over to the foot of the bed, the comment not at all impacting his confidence.

“Allow me to remedy the problem then, princess.”

The hat’s the first to go, and it was a relief to see his unruly hair finally free. She heard the slap of his flip flops on the floor and figured he kicked them off, too. Cassian tugged the horrible, bright yellow “I <3 LONDON” shirt over his head, then stared at her, eyes narrowed.

“I’m keeping the fanny pack.”

It was adorable how wrong he was.

Raising an eyebrow, Nesta leaned back and let her thighs fall open, keying him into the fact that she’d somehow forgotten to put on underwear tonight.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move to take off the damn pack.

So she ran a manicured nail over her bottom lip, then slipped it in her mouth and sucked on it. She was pretty sure Cassian was about to pass out as she released it with a pop, then brought it between her legs.

“Nesta.”

“Hmm?” she responded, the sound drawn out and breathy as she pushed the finger inside herself.

“I like the fanny pack.�� He sounded so sad, it was almost comical. Like a kid on Christmas who’d just been told Santa hadn’t come.

Too bad.

“Then stand there and watch.”

Oh, he did. His eyes were intent on her hands, both the one between her legs and the other that made it’s way to her breast.

She rolled a nipple between her fingers and groaned, and he leaned down to fist the sheets at the end of the bed in his hands. “Fuck.”

Nesta refused to give first. Absolutely refused.

And she knew what it would take for him to give in. So she added another finger, back arching off the bed, and worked herself until she was so close she couldn’t stay still.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the comforter tight enough to threaten the strands, but it wasn’t that that forced him to lose their little battle.

It was the sight of her coming undone before him.

She moaned, and it might’ve been his name that fell from her lips, as release found her. When she heard the strangled, creative curse he let out, she knew she’d won.

Forcing her eyes open, she watched as he finally unhooked the fanny pack and let it drop to the floor.

It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

Cassian quickly kicked off his hideous khakis, then prowled up her body, dropping little love bights on her thighs, her hips, her breasts.

“That was so hot,” he groaned as he settled between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows.

“That was the idea, idiot.”

He stopped for a moment, pulling back to give her a sour look. “I think I’m going to make you apologize for that.”

Before she could tell him there was a fat chance of that happening, he pushed into her. Nesta gasped, and his mouth was suddenly on hers, absorbing the sound.

After a brief moment to adjust, his hips grew rough against hers, the grip he had on them almost bruising, but she didn’t care.

“Fuck, Cass,” she groaned, arching into his touch as he drew little circles on the bundle of nerves between her legs.

He picked up speed, pounding into her so hard she started shifting up the bed until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her in place.

Release started building up in her, and she could tell it would be almost too intense when it crested. But just before she got to find out, he slowed his rhythm, swirling his hips slowly against hers.

An indignant, hateful sound left her mouth, and he pulled back enough to smirk down at her.

“Say it,” he commanded, eyes like molten caramel as they watched her hips try to gain more friction. “Say you’re sorry, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Fuck you,” she panted, barely resisting the urge to punch him. “You insufferable, arrogant bastard.”

“Not exactly what I want to hear, but close.”

A maddeningly slow circle of his hips had her regretting ever going out with him.

Another had her planning his murder.

Yet another had her cursing the day he was born.

“Say it, Nesta. You know you want to.” He dipped his head to kiss the base of her throat.

Her body was so strung out it was a miracle she didn’t burst into tears, but she somehow managed to hold off for another few minutes.

But then he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head and all but growled, “Just fucking say it. Say it so I can fuck you like you deserve.”

And she was just desperate enough that she said, “I’m sorry I called you an idiot, you horrible asshole.”

He smiled down at her, and she glared. “Such beautiful words.”

“Cassian, I swear-”

The words became lost in her throat as he finally, finally started moving again, somehow harder and quicker than before.

Release immediately crashed into her, and she moaned as she drew tight around him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and even though she currently hated him, the words just made the release that much sweeter.

Especially as he didn’t stop. Her body was trembling underneath his, but he kept going, even dipping his head to kiss his way down to her breasts.

His tongue swirled around the peak of one, and she groaned loudly as the wave inside her seemed to crash once more, leaving her scattered and broken in the aftermath.

Cassian finally followed her lead, collapsing on top of her and pressing her into the mattress below as he said her name in a helpless, loving sort of way.

Their breath was uncontrolled and loud, and it took a few minutes before either of them could speak.

Then he asked roughly, “Now, where’d you hide my shit?”

“Front desk,” she panted, pushing her hair off her forehead with a tired hand.

He drew back, looking over her partially-clothed body in a satisfied, male way that made her smile. “I really like that dress, in case it isn’t obvious. Want me to go change so we can eat something?”

Before she could respond, his mouth was at her ear, hot breath raising goosebumps across her skin. “Or do you just want to eat here?”

Suddenly, food was the last thing on her mind.

Her hands found their way to his hair as she drew him back down to her.

“Just get it tomorrow,” she murmured, lips finding his again. “And never wear that fanny pack again.”

_________________________________________________________

Like I said, I had WAY too much fun writing this hahaha. Kinda really loosely based on when Joey (Friends) went to London and dressed like a tourist :)

Tags: @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #nesta x cassian #nesta x cassian fanfiction

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crispyjenkins · 4 years ago

Note

Me again, hope you don’t mind... anyways could you do Cody and Obi wan First Meeting out of Cody’s POV and he slowly realizes that this isn’t you usual Jedi general but that Obi-Wan Kenobi is not only beautiful but also 1. Incredibly good at words 2. Actually cares about the Vode 3. For that reason dislikes fighting and casualties and actually shows his compassion to the Vode 4. Is an absolute badass and 5. Absolutely insane

(Obi-Wan defying the troopers' expectations is the reason i'm alive, and the vode being intimidated by this scary magic man only to find out he's a reckless dumbass who cares more about them than actually winning the war is just. yes. not actually sure how it happened in canon, my brain is being mean, but canon is nebulous and i do what i want.

so here's Cody being surprised by Obi-Wan's endless love for absolutely everybody, and obi being surprised that Cody is surprised.)

Cody is running on six hours of sleep in two days following General Rret So’s reassignment, and he isn’t even close to being finished cleaning up that... disaster. They’ve got a new batch of shinies to paint and name, bodies to bury, a new general to meet, and to be honest, Cody doesn’t have all too high hopes for their next one. It’s already kriffing clear that none of the Jedi have proper military training, and while Cody isn’t one for gossip, he’s also heard rumors that Kenobi hasn’t been in the field since Geonosis. And they want him to lead an attack battalion.

But when Cody arrives in the hangar of their current outpost to make sure it’s in shape before Kenobi arrives, there’s a Jedi near the center of the room, sitting on the floor. Or sitting... a few inches above the floor, only one hand gently touching the durasteel below him, and Cody halts just inside the door.

It doesn’t take much to guess his identity, what with the Jedi robe mostly pooled on the floor, whose edges drift in lazy swirls. The man has his eyes closed, several small stones levitating in equally lazy spins around him, but the casual show of power doesn’t put Cody on edge the way their Nautolan general had; the air around Rret felt like static when he meditated, but General Kenobi effuses warmth and calm, his expression as thoughtful as it is peaceful.

Cody skeptically takes in the armor under Kenobi’s robe, modified clone armour; General Rret never touched anything not sent directly from the Temple. And Kenobi is... smaller than Cody had expected of the famed Negotiator that had helped lead at the Battle of Geonosis, more lithe, more compact. His hair is longer than regulation (not that that has ever stopped Tup), just enough to pull back, with an endearing curl that’s escaped the elastic floating at his temple.

Cody was created for problem solving, for analyzing patterns and information where his rank-and-file brothers could not, but all these little details just leave him confused.

The stones gently and slowly settle back onto the ground, followed by the general as he inhales a deep breath, and that aura of tranquility does not leave when he opens his eyes.

And then he smiles at Cody.

Cody snaps a salute, nerves jumping despite the general’s expression, and tries to raise his mental shields like Jango had taught them to. “General, sir,” he greets, keeping his gaze just below Kenobi’s eyes, which unfortunately has him pinned on his lips.

“Commander Cody,” he returns warmly in High Coruscanti, rising in a fluid motion and holding out a hand. Cody stares at it for a moment before he realises General Kenobi means to shake his hand, and he almost thinks it’s a trap, but he hesitantly reaches out all the same. That smile grows as Kenobi then moves to grip Cody’s forearm like any proper Mando, tapping his other fist to the center of his chest. “It’s good to finally meet you, Commander: I’ve been assured that we will work quite well together.”

Reeling, Cody almost forgets to respond. “Sir?”

“I’ve heard nothing but compliments from your men, and from other battalions; Captain Rex in particular speaks very highly of you.”

Does he know Cody was almost court martialed for arguing with General Rret? Does he know about the multiple complaints submitted by the Nautolan for insubordination?

The way Kenobi’s eyes crinkle at the corners doesn’t assure him that he had. “I like to get my information from multiple sources,” Kenobi explains, finally releasing Cody to tuck his arms behind his back almost at parade rest. “You’re here a bit early, aren’t you? Excellent, that gives us some time to chat before your men arrive.”

It’s enough that General Kenobi went out of his way to learn his name, and then use it, leaving Cody absolutely helpless as Kenobi launches in questions about the cleanup from Rret’s departure.

Kenobi growls like a stampeding reek as their next assault goes to kriffing shit. No sooner had Kenobi managed to greet Ghost Company, that the call to arms had blared through the outpost, a droid battalion approaching from the South. Which was something Rret had apparently anticipated but not felt the need to tell anyone, including the High Generals.

And Kenobi had loaded up with the rest of them, speaking quickly with the pilot, and surely his general wasn’t planning on— on actually fighting with them?

But he had indeed leapt from the transport into the dense forest right alongside him, and Cody had realised, kriff, he has to try and keep this crazy Jedi alive long enough for him to ask what the kriff he’s thinking.

And then things just keep going wrong, from misinformation about droid numbers, to being cornered in a ravine, to Cody having to step over a Shiny that hadn’t even been named yet. Kenobi whirls through the droids with his lightsaber, but the B1s seem to just keep coming, and Cody has almost resigned himself to dying here, because Rret would never let them change the plan this far in—

“Commander!” Kenobi shouts, shoving a B2 droid off his ‘saber. “Full retreat! Evac is inbound, get your men to the top of the ridge!”

“Sir?”

Appearing at Cody’s side and handing him a fresh blaster, Kenobi’s serene expression is traded for troubled rage, but it’s by some miracle not aimed at the vode. “We’re not winning here today,” Kenobi says, jerking his chin towards the ridge as he tugs Cody behind a boulder. “We need to regroup, your medic is already overrun.”

Which doesn’t quite compute. It’s not as if they haven’t lost entire squads in similar conditions, what does Kenobi hope to achieve by—

“I’ll hold them off,” he says, making Cody choke on his spit. “As long as I can.”

“General!” By the Force, he can’t honestly think that Cody will let him stay behind, that Cody will leave him here.

“That’s an order, I’m not losing any more men today,” Kenobi says firmly. He checks around the boulder before spinning back to Cody. “I was told you were by the book, that you were a stellar soldier with his brothers’ best interest at heart. Are you going to make me a fool for believing that?”

“General, I don’t think—”

“I’ve given you an order, Commander. Retreat. I will meet you back at the outpost.”

Swallowing down the urge to throw up, Cody nods and salutes, and prays to whatever deity listening that he’ll wake up tomorrow with absolutely no memory of today.

Kenobi gives him a small smile, before reigniting his ‘saber and rushing back into the battle.

Cody is just beginning to wonder if they’re going to have to get another new general when Kenobi shows up in the last search party before they call it off for the night, stepping off the transport with several more injured brothers that hadn’t made it back with the first two evacs. A squad of shinies runs up to get the stretches to the medbay that is indeed overrun, but Cody doesn’t worr— can’t worry about that right now, marching up to Kenobi with a comm disk.

“Sir, welcome back,” he greets, taking quick stock of the minor grazes on Kenobi’s face, how limp his hair has turned, but he otherwise seems fine, which is a miracle in it of itself. “High General Mundi—”

“Later,” Kenobi cuts him off, not unkindly, but with an air of unspeakable exhaustion. “Master Rret So restationed your secondary medics, yes?”

“Yes, sir, but what—?”

Kenobi nods once and starts to follow the shinies, Cody matching pace with him even as he’s sure he’s broadcasting his confusion into the Force. Kenobi offers him a tiny smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your brothers aren’t going to last the night if I don’t go help Wupi, and you’re horrendously undermanned as it is.”

Another name casually thrown out, as if General Rret hadn’t even bothered to learn their numbers, and if Cody wasn’t already a whirlwind of emotions, he might have some feelings about that. Later. Everything later.

A thought occurs to him. “Sir, General Rret said they were needed elsewhere. The secondary medics.”

They arrive at the medbay that is in utter chaos, too small to house so many vode, already filled from their last skirmish and now completely overflowing. Kenobi looks around almost as if he’s going to cry, before he clenches his jaw and turns to Cody.

“General Rret was mistaken. I hailed the 501st from the transport, they’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, but until then, it’s my duty to keep your men alive. Can you help me do that, Cody?”

Cody simply nods, wondering if he had been concussed during the battle. “Yes, sir. What do you need.”

“I need every sheet you can spare, and the emergency medkits from all the transports. I need you to hold off General Mundi until morning, I know he’s expecting a long conversation. And please, tell him in no uncertain terms that I plan to have very harsh words with his former padawan as soon as the 501st arrive.” Kenobi takes a deep breath, seeming to draw energy in from everywhere, and then puts a hand on the side of Cody’s neck for the briefest moment. Almost like static shock, Cody flinches, but suddenly doesn’t feel so exhausted, and he blinks down at Kenobi.

“That should hold you over until morning, I trust you to handle the rest of the outpost?” He raises a single brow, but kriff if Cody is going to tell him no.

“Yes, sir.” He salutes, feeling a green warmth brushing against his mind that certainly was not there before, but belongs there all the same.

That warmth stays with him long after the 501st arrives with aid, and Cody intends to hold onto it for as long as his cannon-fodder life allows.

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omg-someone-actually · 4 years ago

Text

Remus feels miserable. He's also hiding under the covers. He knows it's childish and probably useless because the one person he's trying to hide from shares the flat with him, but the uselessness of his solutions has never stopped him from executing them before so why start now.

He can hear Sirius shuffling in the kitchen, the kettle whistling and the mugs tinkling. The strong, sweet spicy aroma of bergamot is slowly wafting through the open door to their bedroom.

Remus exhales. Earl Grey then. That means Sirius is making tea for Remus as well as for himself. Remus doesn't drink any other but Sirius prefers green tea and yet he always makes Earl Grey for both of them whenever they're home together. He says he doesn't mind having the same as Remus but Remus knows he does it just because the water for Earl Grey needs to be heated just slightly under the boiling point whereas the water for green tea should be around 80°C. He told Sirius multiple times that he can make his green tea first and Remus can boil the kettle for his Earl Grey later but Sirius just looked at him while walking to the couch with their mugs and answered, "But then we would never get to drink the tea together," like it's the most obvious thing on the planet. Just like that, casually hitting Remus' feelings in all the right places. How dare he.

He secures the blanket over his face tighter and burrows deeper into the pillows.

Footsteps. Sirius is walking over and placing something on his nightstand.

"Love, I made us some sandwiches and tea. Marlene is coming to pick me up for the Order mission later. I thought we could eat together in bed before she arrives so you don't have to get up?"

Remus groans. He doesn't deserve this man.

Yesterday's full moon was terrible. He hasn't had a bad one like that in years. The deep exhaustion is still lingering in his bones, his joints ache and muscles feel strained, stretched on a body that looks way too old to be this young. He's normally somewhat functioning the evening after. Not today.

He fell asleep right after Sirius healed the worst wounds on his ribs and thighs and apparated them back to their flat. In times like this, he's beyond grateful Sirius chose being a healer as his career. It makes the post full moon mornings so much easier.

He slept like the dead through most of the day and if that wasn't any indication of how bad the night was, the dull pain in his entire body should have been enough. But none of that prepared him for the shock he found himself in when he stumbled to the bathroom to use the loo and saw his face in the mirror.

There, still red and not fully healed yet, was a new scar across his face.

Now, scars weren't anything new. He's used to having them all over his entire body and finding new ones after almost every full moon. But never before has a scar appeared on his face. It's strange really, that he has managed to avoid his entire head for so long. He probably didn't have this big area of smooth unblemished skin anywhere else on his body. Well, not anymore. Run out of luck, I suppose, he ponders.

Remus never thought of his own face as something exceptionally beautiful or desirable. But the fresh scar, raised and big and ugly, spanning from his right temple, going under his eye, across his nose and ending on the left side of his jaw, makes him look absolutely horrendous.

He's already self conscious and standing next to his gorgeous boyfriend makes him feel unsure at the best of times and inadequate and undeserving at worst. How much worse is it going to be now?

The bed dips under Sirius' weight as he climbs on the mattress next him. "Come on, Rem. Come out of the blanket cocoon and have some food. You haven't eaten all day," he says softly.

Remus doesn't move. Instead, he asks something he's meant to ask Sirius for a while now. Hidden from view, he allows some of the worry and fear to seep into his voice. "Why are you staying with me?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius confusedly inquires.

"Why are you dating me?"

Suddenly, hands are caressing his curls back softly and trying to take the blanket off his face. Remus just holds it tighter.

"Because I love you. What kind of question is that? What's going on?" Sirius is starting to sound worried.

Remus only grumbles in response.

"Love, take the blanket off your face and talk to me. I'm not having this conversation with you hidden under the covers."

"Well then get used to it because I'm not coming out from under them any time soon," he retorts.

"What? Why?"

"Because my face is disgusting and no one needs to see it, least of all my very attractive boyfriend."

Sirius doesn't answer. Then he shifts his body so he's laying behind Remus and hugs him completely within his cocoon to his chest.

"If this is about your new scar I already know about it. Not only because I saw you make it yourself in the forest but also because I healed the wound and carried you to bed, all the while with your face pretty much visible and I haven't combusted or turned to stone from the sight so I think I'm good. Now, as your official healer I would like to inspect my patient, please."

Hot burning shame runs through Remus' body. Sirius does so much for him - turns into a dog to run around all night every month, has to watch his lover turn into a bloodthirsty beast, he looks after him, heals his wounds and makes him tea and he even reads to him sometimes, when the full moon isn't that bad. Remus really doesn't deserve him.

What does he have to offer in return? Cynicism, snarky comments, empty bank account, and petulance. He could have at least told himself he's a good enough shag but will Sirius even be able to look at him like that when the most prominent feature of his face is forever going to remind him (and everyone else) what a monster he really is?

Tears prickle in the corners of his eyes and he sniffles.

Sirius, alarmed, takes the blanket Remus has hidden himself under and tugs at it again. It comes off easily, Remus is not clutching at it anymore, and finally uncovers his face.

Sirius puts his palm on Remus' left cheek and smiles at him tenderly.

"Here you are, love."

He starts studying the scar with a wrinkle on his forehead that appears every time he's focusing on something. "It's healing very well. The scar shouldn't be too prominent but it will probably stay. I'm sorry about that. I tried to spell it as soon as you transformed back but you know how it is with werewolf injuries. They rarely heal completely."

Remus frowns. "You take such good care of me already, Sirius. Don't you dare apologize for something you can't control."

Sirius grins. "Then there's no need to hide something YOU can't control either, is there?

Remus' frown deepens. "That's hardly the same thing."

Sirius kisses his nose. "It makes no difference to me, Remus. You're still you. I still love you. And I will continue to do so," he traces one of his fingers along the scar, "whether you have ten of these or none".

Remus gazes into Sirius' eyes and when he finds nothing but truth and honest devotion, he lets himself be gently kissed into the pillows.

When he wakes up later, he finds the bed empty but he can hear Sirius chatting with somebody behind the closed bedroom door. Marlene must be here then.

Remus gets up to greet her and groans when his limbs crackle in protest. He's almost at the door when he hears what they're talking about.

"....it was a rough night," Sirius explains.

"I hope Remus is okay." Marlene's voice sounds tired, like everyone's in the Order these days.

"He has some new scars but otherwise he'll be okay."

"Marlene," Sirius growls. She must have made a face.

"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that. Actually I think it fits him. He has this...roguish vibe and the scars just make him look edgy. Not that I would be into it even if I swung that way but I always wondered if you…"

"What are you on about?" Sirius demands, his voices still a little angry.

Marlene takes a deep breath. "So many pretty people chasing you, but it was only ever Remus for you. Why?"

Sirius sighs and stays quiet for a minute. Remus almost thinks he's not going to answer. Why should he, anyway? Maybe Marlene just made him see the truth, maybe he realized he would like to date someone else after all, maybe he finally sees the stark absurdity of someone as gorgeous as Sirius dating someone as hideous as Rem-

"You know, sometimes you meet someone so beautiful, and then you actually get to talk to them and five minutes later, they're as dull as a brick. Then there's other people and you meet them and you think, "Not bad, they're okay." And then you get to know them and… And their face just sort of… Becomes them, like their personality is written all over it. And they just… They turn into something so beautiful."

He pauses and then exhales, "Remus is the most beautiful man I've ever met."

Remus doesn't come into the living room to say hi to Marlene for another ten minutes. And if it's because he had to sit for a moment and dry some tears, who's to say?

A/N: The last thing Sirius says in this is inspired by this scene in Doctor Who

Big thank you to @kattlupin for her quick betaread! <3

#wolfstar #my writing #my fic #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #remus lupin #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black #post full moon #marlene mckinnon #doctor who quotes #wolfstar with doctor who quote

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ihatetaxes99 · 3 years ago

Text

A Brief Retrospective Look At MVA (In The Anime)

Well. Here we are. Every end of the time is another begun. After what has felt like years of anticipation (mostly because it actually has been years), My Villain Academia has been fully animated. Well, "fully" may be the wrong word here, but that's something I'll get into later.

To honour the end of the arc, I decided to do two things: One, I re-read the entirety of the arc in the manga all in one sitting; Two, I rewatched all five episodes of the anime's adaptation back to back once again. My life is pain and I know not of sleep. Anyway, the reason I did this is because of a little project I proposed to myself back just before the first episode aired; Once MVA was done and dusted, I would go back and give my own retrospective on the whole thing. Because why the hell not, sounds like fun. This will also hopefully be less emotional than my thoughts I shared as the episodes were still airing, but who knows?

So, let's begin. And I wish to start by stating that My Villain Academia is my absolute favourite arc in the manga. It did a lot of things right. It focused entirely on my favourite faction, the villains. It offers a glimpse into their lives and goes a long way in humanising them, particularly Spinner and Shigaraki. It sets up key points for others too, such as Mr. Compress' habit of thinking more about the bigger picture than the others, which would factor into his major reveal during the Paranormal Liberation War and of course the formation of the Front itself. It introduced us to Rikiya Yotsubashi, one of my favourite characters in the manga, even if he honestly peaked in this arc and was never as good again. And it gave us a large-scale, grueling fight for supremacy in which I found myself actively rooting for the League. It is, in my mind, the very best of BNHA, the only arc I would want them to do well in the anime. They could screw up literally everything else and I would be happy if MVA was even just as good as the manga, it didn't even need to be better. I would have been delighted to have an excuse to experience the arc all over again, seeing my favourite moments with the sublime soundtrack and voice acting.

Yeah…

But before I get to that, let us take a little trip of sorts down memory lane to see the road to MVA, what led to it. So, 2021 rolls around. What a fun year. It's just 2020 without the excitement of everything being so uncertain, and frankly it's been really fucking boring as a year. However, BNHA Season Five was announced. In February, we get the first trailer for the upcoming season. It's... It's fine. Obviously, it focuses heavily on the Joint Training Arc (in fact, that is all it shows) and although I despise that arc with a passion, it's not too bad. I had not watched the anime since Overhaul ended, so my plan was I just wouldn't watch JTA and would wait until the big attraction, MVA. And so, Joint Training starts. And it goes on. And on. And on. I checked back almost two months later to discover it still wasn't over yet. Now I found this odd. Joint Training Arc was horrible for many reasons, but the big one was that it dragged on for so long as a result of Horikoshi's health complications, which is by no means his fault. But, surely the anime, which would consistently release on a weekly basis, wouldn't have the issues associated with this. Episodes of BNHA have always encompassed around three to five chapters, and Joint Training's were shorter than usual, so why was it taking more than ten episodes to adapt it?

Very strange, but I didn't question it much. Then, the key visuals released, confirming that MVA was at the very least happening. Great, wonderful. I love it. We've got the whole gang there, seeming like they're in Deika, looks pretty good.

Wait, did I say whole gang? Yeah, my bad, there was someone missing. Spinner. Now, I am not the biggest Spinner fan so I wasn't prepared to riot over his exclusion like I would have been if Compress wasn't in it. But this was starting to get strange. Spinner was the main narrator of MVA. Even if his importance was not on the level of Shigaraki, Twice and Toga, it was certainly more than Dabi and Compress, who did both appear in the art. Why was he excluded? Obviously, I bet you're all having a good old chuckle to yourselves right now because in retrospect, this makes perfect sense now.

Alright, then. I heard from a friend around June time that Joint Training was finally over. Awesome, great, time for the good stuff- why is there a Christmas episode here?

Yes, this was probably what really started to get the alarm bells in my mind going. The Christmas episode- in June. Very, very strange. Also, absolutely no mention of Rikiya, which even if they were reshuffling things, I would have expected him to appear in the episode of Bakugo and Todoroki getting their licenses, since it directly ties in. Concern levels rising, I shrugged it off and waited for next week.

Bam. Major reshuffling. Now, Endeavour Agency comes first, fuck you if you want context for who the hell the PLF are or the significance of Destro's memoirs. This was really starting to worry me now. I told myself that the key visual meant that MVA had to be happening, but it was starting to seem like the villains were being shafted. A fact not helped by the new OP.

Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain or whine, but season five's second OP is just bad. The music is fine, I have no problem there. But the visuals are just awful. Not only is there an extended focus on that stupid bloody trio of Midoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki, not only is there more screentime given to characters who don't appear in MVA or EA than the main cast of the former, but the animation itself is just so stiff and lacking. It had potential, but the visuals are the worst out of any recent anime opening I've seen in a good few years and this was what got me really panicking.

Boom, a beach episode smack in the middle of Endeavour Agency to promote the upcoming movie. Boom, adapting two chapters per episode during EA. Boom, the Shirakumo episode, which I always thought was part of the War Arc and not EA. But finally, mercifully, the title leaks came and it was revealed that episode 20 of season five would be the start of MVA.

20. Out of 25. And it was pretty obvious that they weren't going to end the season with MVA, so really, up to 24. Ohhh no…

But hey, I'm an optimist sometimes. I was excited to just finally be clear of all this nonsense and get to the real good stuff. Hell, in preparation, I watched the entirety of the season up to that point. I finally realised why JTA took so long and it's one of the most depressing things I've ever learned, in a bad way. Were all those flashbacks really necessary? EA was okay, as someone who as a manga reader, already had the necessary context for the PLF stuff. The beach episode, I watched half of, got too bored and skipped the rest of. And you know what, I liked the Shirakumo chapters. They weren't as good in the anime, but it was nice to see.

And then, finally, in comes episode one of My Villain Academia, on a cold, dark August morning. I even bought Crunchyroll Premium to watch it as soon as possible, I was excited. All the messing around, all the crap, it was finally over and the time had come to enjoy what this season was really all about.

I can now safely say why Bones kept pushing back MVA, because if I was them, I would be embarrassed to show this.

No, that's not fair. I promised I wouldn't get too snarky, so let's reek things back in. As a whole, MVA has been… fine. Just fine. Not good enough to justify the bullshit, but not horrendous (mostly.) In fact, right now, I'll give a ranking of the episodes, my worst to best:

5) Episode One

4) Episode Two

3) Episode Three

2) Episode Five

1) Episode Four

Yeah. So, there's a clear pattern here, that things more or less got better as time went on. From just straight up bad, to still not great, to alright, to the final two episodes being what I would comfortably call good. This is not a good look. I'm sorry, but Episode One, an episode that I just called bad, is still one of the season's best in spite of that. That spells out awful things for this season as a whole. But what exactly made this such a disaster?

Well, cut content is the big thing. MVA in the anime cuts out:

The League's battle with the CRC

Their struggle with poverty

The sushi joke setup

All of Spinner's character

All of Rikiya's character, including most mentions of Detnerat and Miyashita

Fairly integral pieces of Skeptic's character

Most of Giran's integrity and bravery

This doesn't look too bad at first. It could be far worse. We got basically everything else from the arc, so what? Well, I would already be annoyed about all of these cuts, but the issue is that they cause a knock on effect. Without the establishment of the League's poverty, the payoff of Toga's duffle coat now makes no sense. Without the setup of Spinner's characterisation, his battle with Hanabata now feels hollow. Rikiya's surrender to the League now makes even less sense, as his love of human life and desire to cause no more death is completely non-existent. The first time Rikiya being a CEO is mentioned is in the closing minutes of the arc. The sushi scene is hamfisted into a two second flashback just so that the payoff makes some sort of sense, but again, it is hollow without it being at the start (this is also the first mention of the League's poverty and it literally happens just as they are freed from it.) Can you see how these little seemingly unimportant cuts spiral into bigger problems? I would have been pissed even if they hadn't caused some tremendous cascades, but the fact that they did just makes this from a subjective issue to an objective one.

Yes. They did some things well. Toga's backstory is mostly intact, SMP is just as satisfying as the manga, Tenko's backstory is one of the best things the anime has ever done, the awakening is very well done, I adore the PLF formation as much as I did in the manga. Everything important is intact, but as I keep saying, you cannot just keep the bare minimum and expect it to work. How about in the next arc, they decide to cut everything involving Bakugo out, and only keep him jumping in front of Midoriya because it's the only absolutely necessary thing he does in the arc? People would be pissed, and it's the same thing that's happening here. It's a problem, it's not just a bad adaptation, it leads to bad storytelling in general.

The animation. Now, I do not believe this is a be all, end all. BNHA's anime is never going to look as gorgeous as Horikoshi's art, that is a fact and I do not begrudge them for that. They have a week to draw hundreds upon hundreds of frames, it's not a process that lends itself well to good looks and the animators and artists do their best with what they have. This does not change the fact that it is extremely hit or miss. Some things, Tenko's backstory in particular, look fantastic. Other things, mostly every action scene, make me laugh at how bad they can look and some things, particularly Twice and Re-Destro's hideous designs in the anime, make me cringe. The lighting is also an issue. Garaki's lab looked fantastic, but every other scene is just boring mid-afternoon with dull, basic lighting. I don't expect huge detail, but sometimes, it fails to achieve competency and as an extremely popular show, I don't think that's okay. I don't blame the animators, I blame the higher ups. And while I wouldn't mind the poor animation and art in an MVA that at least has all the story content, this does not have that and so I am even harsher than I would have been.

MVA was rushed. That's not up for debate. It took forever to get to it and once it came, things moved so quickly that they gave me whiplash, with no time to think or lament. Now, this could be attributed to the story structure of the arc, which is essentially a series of big fights, and it just isn't as bad in the manga because I can stop at any time to catch my breath. But I think it's worth noting that the anime at least highlights these issues. Curious dies in the same episode where she first appears, really driving home how pointless she was in the end. Episode Two alone tries to cover everything from the journey to Deika up until Jin finding Toga's body. That's a lot of content to fit in one twenty minute period and it was bound to feel messy in the end. I will say that, much like everything aside from the animation, this did get better as time went on, with episodes three, four and five adapting more reasonable amounts of content, compared to one giving us almost nothing and two giving us too much.

At the end of the day, that was it. The show's over. MVA has been closed in the anime. It will never be given a chance to improve, to go from just fine to anything even close to the manga. Why did this happen? I don't think we'll ever truly know. Some blame the new movie, others the studio's lack of faith in the villains, and there are those who say that it's just how fate turned out. I personally think it's a combination of all of these things. Without the movie, that beach episode wouldn't exist, giving more time to MVA, without the studio's hesitation, we'd perhaps get stuff like an actual good OP and perhaps some more general hype for it (I mean, MVA didn't even get a trailer.) Whatever the reason is, we got what we got. My verdict is something that's very overplayed as of late, but seriously, just read the manga with the fantastic soundtrack playing in the background. The anime's adaptation of MVA is not worth the time investment, when you could read the manga in roughly the same length of time and get more content, a more coherent plot and beautiful artwork.

So, what may come next for Season Six? I don't know. Season Five has definitely been one of the most unpopular seasons in the anime, with a lot of people speaking out against it, but this mostly seems to come from the Western fanbase, so it's up in the air if Bones will learn from their mistakes. Since they'll have a full season to do presumably the War and Rouge Deku arcs, then I feel like they'll put on a better show. But we just don't know. Spinner had his spotlight stolen this time around, will Compress suffer the same fate in Season Six? Dabi and Toga will probably be handled well, since they have inexplicably high amounts of popularity, but with his own lack of recognition rivalling Spinner's, I can see Sako ending up much the same way. Time will tell, I suppose.

#my villain academia #mva #league of villains #Meta Liberation Army #studio bones #bnha season 5

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lunaverseimagine · 4 years ago

Text

Wedding Gift

Request: “Hi!!!!! I was wondering if you could write a Cedric Diggory imagine where takes place after the battle of hogwarts and he and his gf (the reader) get married and she tells him she is pregnant?” ~ anon

Pairing: Cedric x Reader

Summary: It’s Cedric and reader’s wedding day, and she has some big news for him.

Warnings: Mentions of war, death, grief, and contraception.

Word count: 1.2k

Fic:

Your wedding day. There had been so many times that you thought this day would never come, and you knew Cedric had the same thoughts. Only two years after you started dating, Cedric was almost killed by you-know-who. If he hadn’t have jumped behind the gravestone in time to dodge the killing curse sent his way- you can’t imagine what life would be like now. You don’t even want to try. Then a few years later the very same dark wizard waged a war on the school that was your second home. You and Cedric fought to defend Hogwarts and those you loved; often you’d be back to back protecting each other from countless death eaters. You had moved in sync, feeling his back against yours, his presence helping to dampen the terror that threatened to paralyse you. You felt a heaviness just thinking about the war: your fear of losing Cedric, your grief for all the people you did lose, horrendous sights you could never unsee. Honestly you had no idea how the two of you managed to survive. And yet you had.

Today was a day of celebration, a day to commemorate the boundless love you had for the beautiful man standing in front of you. But it was tainted. Tainted by the absence of the loved ones you’d lost, tainted by the memories that always came creeping back. You were so grateful to have Cedric to help you through the dark and difficult times: both the war and its aftermath. You said so in your vows.

Cedric’s vows almost made you melt into a gooey puddle of adoration. He said that when he was facing death, the only thing on his mind was staying alive so that he could be with you. You made him feel joy and peace in the midst of a war, and every day he fell in love with you more and more. He never wanted to know a life without you, and putting a ring on your finger was symbolic of how he could never feel complete without you by his side.

The party afterwards had been wonderful. During your first dance he held you so gently and yet so firmly that you knew he’d always be there to catch you if you fell. You rested your head on his chest and heard his heartbeat, such a precious sound that was almost taken away from you. You hugged him and promised yourself you’d never let him go.

There was something you hadn’t told him yet though. Something important. You had only found out the day before. Your period was over a week late and you felt a bit sick in the morning, so you thought you’d buy a test just to be on the safe side. You never really believed that the test would be positive. It wasn’t as though you’d been trying, but you knew that contraception was never 100% effective. You’d done another test today just to be sure it wasn’t a false positive, and when you saw the same two lines appear you knew you’d have to tell Cedric. Not wanting to throw him off right before the wedding, you thought you’d wait until after the evening celebrations to let him know.

Now the two of you were entering your hotel suite. It had a grand four poster bed with curtains that shimmered gold, and a window overlooking the sea. You could hear the waves crashing against the shore, the sound almost peaceful.

“I love you y/n Diggory.” Cedric had repeated this so many times throughout the day, and every time it made your heart leap with happiness.

“I love you too Ced.” you replied, holding his hands in your own. He placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead, followed by one on the tip of your nose, before landing on your lips. You kissed him back, gratefulness bubbling inside you for this one-in-seven-billion person who you had the absolute honour of calling your husband. But before the kiss went any further, you knew you needed to share your news. You broke off the kiss and pulled Cedric down next to you on the bed. You were sitting with your knees touching, so you could see each other clearly.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” You bit your lip and looked down at your lap. This was massive news. How was he going to take it? Should you have told him before the wedding? What if he wasn’t ready for this? Would he.. Would he leave you?

Cedric gently squeezed your hands, which were still holding his, and brought you back to the present moment.

“What is it?” He asked kindly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m-” you felt tears forming but you steeled yourself, remembering that you’d decided to marry Cedric for good reasons. He was loyal and kind, and had the purest heart of anyone you knew. Even if it was a shock, you knew he would stay by your side.

“Ced, I’m pregnant.” The tears began flowing freely, and you couldn’t quite explain why. You waited for Cedric’s reaction with your heart thumping. His hands left yours and you felt your stomach plummet.

But then he wrapped his arms around you in a fierce embrace, and repeated his earlier words.

“I love you. I love you.” He sounded choked up too, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to sadness or joy. “Y/n, this is wonderful. We might not have planned this, but I can’t think of a greater wedding gift.” He pulled away from you and tenderly kissed your lower abdomen.

“I love you y/n, and I love you baby Diggory.” You let out a laugh, and wiped the tears from your face. Yes, this was scary, but Cedric was right. It was the most wonderful wedding gift, and you couldn’t think of a sweeter man to be the father to your unborn child. You shared a comfortable moment of silence, letting him digest the news properly.

“We can do this, right Ced?” your eyes searched his for confirmation.

“You’re going to be the best mother, and I’ll be right there by your side doing my very best.” He let out a small chuckle. You brushed your knee against his.

“You’re going to be the best father, you know that right?”

“What I know is that this precious baby growing inside you right now is never going to know war. I’ll do whatever it takes to fill their life with love and joy. Y/n, we’ve been through so much-” he paused. Talking about the war out loud was still difficult for you both “-but this little life is our new beginning. Our hope.” You were on cloud nine. You and Cedric were going to start a family together. It was really going to happen.

The happiest day of your life came 9 months later when you and Cedric welcomed baby Hope Diggory into a peaceful world.

End

Thank you for the request anon, this was so fun to write! I love any AU where Cedric lives past book four... My inbox is open for imagine requests, so please feel free to send some in! If you enjoyed this then please like/reblog/follow, it’s super encouraging <3

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imposterellie · 4 years ago

Text

Imprisonment - Febuwhump Day 3

Peter doesn't know where he is, or why his powers aren't working; all he knows is that he's desperately hungry, and that Tony doesn't know he's missing.

Will he be found in time?

**TW - violence, swearing, description of vomiting, pain infliction, food being withheld from characters, passing out, panic attacks**

@febuwhump

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The air was bitingly cold as Peter swung among the streets in Queens. This patrol had been quiet, and he’d spent most of it sat on the rooftops, trying his best to keep himself warm. Even with the built-in heating system in his spiderman suit, it was still bitter outside, and he was beginning to consider calling it a night. He harboured too much guilt to go inside sooner than was absolutely necessary; what if he woke up and there was a story on the news about someone who had been robbed and he wasn’t there to prevent it! So no, he would brave the weather until he could barely feel his fingers, just so that it was still safe to swing home.

He sighed in relief, upon deciding it was best that he went home, and leapt off the side of the building he’d landed on 20 minutes earlier. He swung towards his apartment building, looking forward to getting out of his suit and snuggling up in his bed. It was the weekend so he could have a nice lie-in in the morning whilst he let May sleep in from her night shift. Peter was invested in the thought of a hot shower and his cosy bed, so invested that he didn’t pay attention to his spidey senses. He didn’t notice the drone until it was far too late. By the time he realised something was wrong, the drone had fired a shot of electricity at him that was specific to his suit and powerful enough that it short circuited the systems. He lost control of the web shooters and dropped like a stone. Plummeting towards the ground, Peter tried everything to get Karen back online but to no avail. He hadn’t been too high off the ground when he was shot but he hit the street head-first and it was enough to knock him out.

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Peter woke slowly, his head throbbing fiercely. He groaned, thinking his enhanced healing would take care of it soon enough, before realising with a jolt that he was not at home as he had expected to be. The room felt wrong, even laid down with his eyes closed, he felt off balance somehow. He fought past the pain in his head to open his eyes carefully and was surprised when his vision was blurry. He squinted and tried again but his sight didn’t change. He couldn’t see anything clearly much further than a metre away. It was like his sight before he had been bitten by the spider.

“What the…?” He mumbled to himself, confused, and becoming a little worried. It was then that Peter came to a little bit more and realised his wrists were restrained. But it was weird, the cuffs didn’t feel like the ones he was usually tied up with (he’d think about being concerned how normal being tied up was once he was out of the situation). He spent a few minutes messing around with them, seeing if they had any mechanism, he could use to get out of them but he had no luck. They were staying on until he was let out of them. He felt that they were digging painfully into his wrists, so he shifted to try and dislodge them, but a bright flash of white, hot pain seared in his head. He paused to let the pain subside, breathing heavily. The second he halted his movements, the pain stopped.

“Ah shit.” Peter whispered as it dawned on him just what the cuffs were doing to him. Somehow, someone had figured out a way to dampen his abilities and had practically reverted him back to his pre-bite self. Ah shit indeed. This was not an ideal situation at all. Especially as he remembered the massive hit to the head he’d gotten which he was very, very aware was not healing itself.

He sat up gingerly, careful not to worsen his headache, and took a look around him. The lack of windows and only a bed, toilet, and iron bars in the room indicated to him that he was very clearly in a cell. Where though, he had no idea. He also had no idea why. From what he could remember, he hadn’t pissed off any bad guys recently so he couldn’t fathom why anyone would have cause to kidnap him. And yet, here he was.

Peter spent what he assumed was a few hours just sitting there, waiting for someone to come into his cell and start torturing him or something but no one did. He just sat there, wallowing in self-pity and boredom. After the first few hours he realised just how desperately hungry he was. And yet no one came.

At one point, he tried to bend the bars, but with his power dampened it barely even creaked. He was well and truly stuck. And no one was coming for him.

He lost track of time. What could have been days was merely hours. The lack of sunlight to track the time meant he just had to sit there, getting hungrier, thirstier and more frustrated as the time went on. He tried to yell out, but his voice just became hoarse without a drink to keep him hydrated, it also made his headache worse as his voice echoed around the small chamber. Without his enhanced eyesight, Peter didn’t see the camera in the darkness. It was in the corner of the chamber outside his cell, just recording consistently and that recording was being streamed directly to a phone. It was a good thing Peter didn’t know about the camera because if he knew who the footage was going to, he’d want out faster.

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Tony Stark was sat in his lab tinkering away at one of his newest inventions. It was 6am and he had not yet ventured to bed. Pepper would be furious, but he was so excited to show Peter, that he couldn’t possibly sleep until it was done. The hours following passed by quickly, Tony periodically checked the clock and ate food every so often before finally stopping at around 4:30. It was Friday, the day Peter came up to the compound to spend the weekend with Tony. As much as tony wouldn’t admit it, he counted down the days until Peter would be coming over. He loved that kid as if he was his own, but again, would never tell him that.

There had been radio silence from Peter the past few days but that wasn’t concerning, Pete’s finals were coming up and Tony knew he would be busy so just sent a quick check-up text and left it at that. The next two hours dragged by slowly and Tony began worrying. Peter was often late but he’d usually text to let him know. Nothing. Until FRIDAY said,

“Sir, there is an incoming video call from an unknown number. Would you like me to answer it?”

Tony felt his stomach drop. Usually that meant Peter was injured or in hospital or something. He knew he should better answer it in case it was the kid’s friend Ted. Ned.

“Yeah, patch it through to the tablet.” Tony said as he picked his iPad up off the table, preparing himself for the worst.

“Already done sir”

The image that came through was worse than the worst that Tony could’ve possibly prepared himself for. It was video footage of Peter, trying to yank apart the bars of a cell he was in, yelling. Tony turned to the side of the desk and vomited straight into his bin. Peter looked awful, malnourished, bruised, and he was squinting as though he either couldn’t see or had a horrendous headache. Why couldn’t Peter get out of the cell? He had superstrength, Tony couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. It took Tony a minute of staring due to the grainy footage to notice the cuffs around Peter’s wrists. They were menacing looking things, causing blood to trickle down his arms if he moved and Tony immediately realised they were dampening Peter’s abilities. He vomited again.

“FRIDAY?” He said quietly. “Can you trace the IP of the stream?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I’m sorry sir, the IP has been heavily encrypted. I cannot get through.” Tony wracked his brain, trying to come up with another way to find the kid.

“See if you can find locations in a 30-mile radius that fit the specs from the stream. Anything with basements that are in a quiet area where no people walking past would hear a kid shouting. And do it quickly.” Tony stood, clutching the tablet in his hand. He brought up a large hologram map of the area, watching as FRIDAY indicated locations that matched the description.

“Sir, there are 5 possible locations that Peter could be. I’ve also scanned his condition and it appears as though his metabolism is still intact, despite his main powers being dampened. There is no evidence that this video is live so there’s a high possibility that Peter will be very dehydrated and malnourished when he is found.” Tony paid very little attention to the information his AI was presenting him with. His logical brain had shut down, panic starting to take over. He retrieved his phone from the desk and tapped on the speed dial. The phone rang several times before someone picked up.

“Tony?”

“May.” Tony sighed a little in relief to hear her voice.

“What’s the matter? Has something happened to Peter? Do I need to come and get him?” May asked, suddenly frantic. Tony was confused, it sounded like May already knew Peter was in danger.

“May, where is Peter? Is he at home?”

“No. He left a note saying he was spending the next past few days with you. Has he not been at the compound?” May panicked further, “What’s going on?”

Tony settled himself, knowing that if he panicked too it would only make things worse.

“I think you should come over here as soon as you can, that note wasn’t from Peter. He’s in trouble.”

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FRIDAY barely had time to announce May’s presence when she burst in through the doors. She looked a mess. It was clear she had just finished a long shift and she’d spent a lot of the drive over crying, due to the tear tracks staining her face. Tony met her in the communal room, it was a slightly more welcoming environment than the entrance lobby.

“Where’s my nephew?” She demanded as soon as she saw Tony. Tony didn’t say a word, just pulled up the footage that had burned itself into his memory. When it finished, May’s face was grey.

“Oh god.”

“I know, we’ve narrowed down the places he might be and I’m getting the team together to go looking for him right now.”

“He looks so ill.” May’s hand covered her mouth, she was swaying on her feet so Tony took her arm and guided her gently to a seat. He crouched down in front of her, meeting her eyes and grasping her hands in his.

“I promise I will find him May, whatever it takes. I’ll find him and I’ll fix this mess.” She nodded blankly and stared into space, as if she had lost the ability to function in her grief. Tony’s phone rang, the name ‘Steve’ popping up on the screen. He took one long look at May before leaving the room and answering.

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Time was nothing anymore. Nothing but pain filled his senses. He could barely breathe without pain in his head, in his chest, in his everything. He’d been tortured before, sure. But this was a whole different level. He’d never been starved before and he’d decided very quickly that he never wanted it to happen ever again. Peter had no energy at all. His injuries weren’t healing and he could barely keep his eyes open. He’d given up shouting for help what felt like years ago.

His throat was dry and every time he swallowed, it felt like knives raking down into his lungs. Is this what it felt like to die? Alone and hungry in a tiny cell, drifting in and out of consciousness with nothing but the ever-present darkness as company.

He closed his eyes as the pounding in his head grew louder. He just wanted it all to go away.

“Tony. ‘m sorry.” He mumbled, letting himself finally start to drift off.

“No you don’t kid, we’re gonna get you out of here.”

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They had found him. It took the whole team and several breakdowns from Tony to pinpoint Peter's exact location. They fought the guards enough for Tony to get through and find Peter. The rest of his team were upstairs, dispatching the culprits. He got to work lasering through the bars with his suit.

“Ben?” Peter whispered, “Tha- you?”

“No kid, it’s Tony. You’re not dead, not if I have anything to do with it.” Tony felt his heart shatter, he knew they were running out of time. His lasers were struggling to get through the cell bars; It was very slow progress but it was working.

“Good.” Peter smiled softly, “knew you’d come for me.”

Tony spoke past the thick lump in his throat, “Always Underoos. Always.”

Peter didn’t respond, he’d finally passed out.

“We’ve dispatched all the guys upstairs; Nat is interrogating the ones who are still alive now.” Steve spoke from behind Tony.

“Good.” Tony replied grunting with the effort of keeping the lasers steady, he was almost through the thick metal, almost had his kid back in his arms. The metal split with a groan and Tony leapt into action, attempting to yank the bars apart where they’d been split. He kicked it hard in frustration when it refused to budge, even with the suit’s extra strength.

“Here. Here Tony, we’ll do it together.” Steve interrupted before tony injured himself. He positioned himself on the other side of the bars to Tony and braced himself to pull them apart. “Ready?” Tony nodded, barely concentrating but a new set of determination in his eyes. “Pull!”

The bars groaned as they bent apart, Steve’s muscles straining. They reached a point where Tony could exit his suit and squeeze through the gap. He rushed straight to Peter’s side. The boy was out cold, thin and shivering. Tony bundled him into his arms and squeezed straight out of the cell, dashing up towards the Quinjet. Steve was covering his back as they ran through the building, though there were no men left to fight. Their shouts could be heard throughout the area as Nat went to work extracting information. Tony had no idea what they were doing to them, and quite honestly, he didn’t want to know.

They reached the aircraft in record time. They could’ve flown home in Tony’s suit but Peter’s condition was too severe. A medical team met them on the ship, Bruce Banner at its lead, as they took Peter from Tony’s arms and got straight to work.

They took off immediately. Tony collapsed against the wall, sliding down onto the floor. He felt the panic rise up in his chest, the fear a tight ball in his lungs. His breath became sporadic and short as his vision became fuzzy. His jumped as a hand rested gently on his shoulder.

“Breathe Tony.” Steve said quietly, crouched down in front of the man. “They’re looking after him, he’s safe.” Tony continued to hyperventilate.

“Tony.” Steve said more forcefully, “look at me.” Tony managed to look at him, his vision still blurry but he focused on Steve’s face. “I need you to breathe with me, I’ll show you look, breathe with me.”

Steve started to breathe loudly and steadily, focusing on Tony’s chest. His breathing slowly started to even out as his panic subsided. They sat in silence for several minutes, both using each other’s company to combat the fear.

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday3 #peterparker #peter parker whump #tony stark #whump #injury

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janeyseymour · 3 years ago

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Dangerous Desires- pt 5

chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 3. chapter 4.

The night that Katherine had come home to live with Jane was like no other. Really, it was nothing out of the ordinary for the young lass. The family she had been placed with had enough and had turned to abuse. The father had grown annoyed with Katherine’s failure to be the perfect child they had wished for. She didn’t do what normal teenagers did. She was skittish and waited for the family to tell her what to do. She tried her hardest to be the perfect child, and it still wasn’t enough. One night, it had gone too far and the kind neighbor next door to them heard the commotion. When she saw Katherine attempting to run out of the house bruised, bloodied, and limping, she couldn’t let the girl disappear into the shadows with good conscience.

“Katherine?” The neighbor, an elderly woman named Margaret, called out into the darkness. Katherine would silently place a finger to her mouth and continue on with her journey. Or she would attempt to anyway. The slicing of the plate on her leg was excruciating.

“Katherine darling,” Margaret let out a breath of relief when she caught up with the teen. “Oh my god,” she mumbled as she looked the girl over. She was in worse shape than she had originally thought.

“Please just let me go,” Katherine pleaded. It wouldn’t work. The older woman would coerce the girl into her car and take her to the hospital, vowing to herself that she would never let another foster child step into that blasted household again.

Of course, the woman would not be allowed back with the girl as there was no familial relation, but she left her number with Katherine and made her promise to inform her that she was placed in a different household as well as to keep in contact about the healing of her injuries. (Katherine would call the woman once to tell her that her injuries healed and that she was supposedly going to be placed with a woman named Jane. She would thank her for her kindness, and never speak to the woman again.)

Katherine Howard had been in the hospital so many times that she was on a first name basis with most of the nurses. She was kind and courteous to each and every person who would enter her room. They were no strangers to the domestic abuse that the young teen had faced in the short time she had been alive, and most couldn’t believe that sweet and innocent Katherine could find herself in so many horrendous situations.

Kat’s social worker Abigail had briefly spoken to the girl about being placed in a different home before relaying the information that an emergency placement was on their way- a woman named Jane Seymour.

It would be approximately fifteen minutes before she heard muffled conversation outside her door.

“Before you go in and see her,” the teen could hear her social worker say. “I just wanted to talk to you about this girl and her situation.”

“Oh,” the newly arrived woman sighed. “Of course, yes.” She sounded quite put together, like most of the other foster parents who had arrived to take her into their care from the hospital.

“Katherine... She's come from a very hard life. It’s a shame really. But, this girl has been through a lot of homes. She doesn’t last places very long for differing reasons each time. Now Jane, I know we’ve worked together on cases before but-”

Her social worker, the woman who was supposed to be on her side, was warning this woman about her. She knew this woman would run for the hills just like every other first placement call to the hospital did. She was certain of it, or she was... until the woman who was supposedly going to take her to a different foster home spoke up.

“Abigail, you know that it doesn’t matter to me.” That was different. She had heard time and time again her social worker preparing the foster placement for her case, and almost every time she had heard that “she was just going to be too much for them” or “I don’t think we can handle that”. (Of course she was. Of course they couldn’t. How these people could become foster parents only to turn away a child in need was beyond Katherine. And how her social worker was mildly working against her when she should have been doing everything she could for the girl was even further beyond Katherine.)

“Jane,” the social worker continued on cautiously. “I know you-”

“Yes Abigail. You do know me. So you know that I am here to take this child into my

home. Whether it be for a night or the indefinite future, I will do my best to take care of her.”

“You’re positive you can handle this? She’s in pretty bad shape right now.”

The defiance in this woman’s voice was like no other as she stated determinedly, “Absolutely I can handle this. And I would advise you to stop opening her case like that. It’s not doing her any good. Let people make their own judgments of her. Perhaps she wouldn’t have gone through so many homes if you were a bit gentler with her case.” This woman couldn’t have been more different than the others.

Katherine heard a gentle knock, a knock different from her social worker’s. Abigail’s was slightly rough- tense. This one knock on the door had already conveyed a gentleness and kindness the teen didn’t know.

“Jane, are you sure?” Abigail’s voice rang out again.

“Stop trying to convince me otherwise Abigail. It’s never worked in the past, and each child that has come through my door that has left is not because I’ve decided I’ve had enough or they didn’t want to live with me anymore, or whatever these other foster parents do, but because they are placed back with their families. If I do remember correctly, isn’t that the entire point of fostering in the first place? To get the children reunited with their families?” Katherine could practically feel the condescending look this woman was clearly giving her social worker given her tone was rather pointed, and she hadn’t even met her yet.

“Of course, of course. Go on, knock again.”

Three gentle knocks rapped on the door again, and this time Kat responded with a meek, “Come in.”

A kind looking blonde woman walked into the room exuding elegance. Her eyes landed on the girl in bed, softening immediately.

“Hi Katherine,” she spoke softly. “I’m Jane. It’s lovely to meet you.” That was odd. Most people would have looked at her in this bed, bruised and bloodied (although the hospital had done what they could to get rid of most of the blood) would have turned to Abigail and told her they couldn’t do it. It “broke their hearts” too much.

“Hi,” the teen squeaked out. “Uhm, you too. Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll let you two get acquainted.” Abigail shot Jane a kind look before slipping out of the room.

Jane, who still stood at the door, asked, “Would you mind if I came closer?” Now that was really different. No one had ever given her an option before. They would simply come over and invade her space as if she wasn’t a trauma survivor.

Kat nodded, and with permission Jane moved into the chair next to her bed.

“So,” she began, just as gently. “The doctors are saying that they have to monitor you for just another hour to make sure you don’t have any reactions to the medicine before they can release you. And then, if you would like, you’re able to come home with me.”

Kat sat in silence for a few moments mulling over a few thoughts in her head. No other person to walk through those hospital doors or the social office doors had given her a choice before. In fact, she realized no other foster parent had even given Katherine this much time to think about it. She stayed silent for a few more minutes thinking about how no one else had ever treated her in such a kind manner or even looked at her with this much kindness in their eyes.

“Yes please,” Kat smiled shyly. “And thank you, of course.”

“Of course love. I’m more than happy to have you for as long as you’d like.”

“Why didn’t you give up on me right then? No one else wanted me. People have taken one look at me and turned away saying they couldn’t handle it, or me. Even my case-worker has worked against me and warned people about me. I heard her warning you,” the present-day Katherine sighed sadly before smiling slightly as she curled into her foster mother’s warmth. “But you... you were different.”

Jane sighed. She knew others had turned her sweet girl away, but it still broke her heart every time it was brought up. “Kat love, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I would never give up on any child, especially when that child is you.”

“I mean, I know that, but like... so many others have?”

“Let me tell you my side of the story,” Jane laughed quietly before diving in.

The night that Katherine had come home with Jane was like no other. The woman was used to being woken up in the middle of the night to run to a child’s rescue. Jane Seymour was at the top of the fostering list- mostly due to the fact that she had such successful stays that any child was considered lucky to be put into Jane’s custody. Most children who had been in Jane’s care at one point or another were still in contact with her, happy to tell her about their times back at home and to thank her for such kindness that not many other foster homes offered. But most of these children were brought back to the office for the blonde to gather. A one Miss Katherine Howard was still at the hospital and wouldn’t be released for at least another hour.

“It’s understandable if you can’t make it here until tomorrow morning but-”

Jane, who had already finished changing out of her pajamas and was slipping on her shoes, interrupted the social worker. “-I’m already heading out the door. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

The drive to the hospital was nerve wracking to say the least. What could have happened to this poor girl that she was still in the hospital? What kind of monster would cause such damage that this child was still in the hospital?

The woman parked her car and all but burst into the hospital, bombarding the front desk woman.

“Hi, my name is Jane Seymour. I’m here to meet with a social worker Abigail about taking Miss Katherine Howard into my custody once she’s been released?”

“Ah yes, Katherine,” the woman at the front desk softened her tone. “Sweet girl- poor thing has gone through so much in her young life. Follow me.”

“Jane, always nice to see you,” the social worker said cordially as she stuck out her hand for the blonde to shake.

“Abigail.” Jane took the hand. The two women would walk down the hospital halls quietly.

“Before you go in and see her,” the social worker looked at Jane warily.“I just wanted to talk to you about this girl and her situation.”

“Oh,” the newly arrived woman sighed. “Of course, yes.” What could there possibly be to talk about that couldn’t wait until she had met this girl.

Jane cut her off rather hastily“Abigail, you know that it doesn’t matter to me.” From the way the woman at the front desk spoke of the teen behind the closed door, she couldn't fathom why the girl would bounce around from foster home to foster home.

“Jane,” the social worker continued on cautiously. “I know you-”

“Yes Abigail. You do know me. So you know that I am here to take this child into my

home. Whether it be for a night or the indefinite future, I will do my best to take care of her.”

“You’re positive you can handle this? She’s in pretty bad shape right now.”

“Absolutely I can handle this. And I would advise you to stop opening her case like that. It’s not doing her any good. Let people make their own judgments of her. Perhaps she wouldn’t have gone through so many homes if you were a bit gentler with her case.” How any case worker could speak of a child with this sort of connotation was beyond the woman. She noted silently to reach out to the offices later about Abigail's rather interesting take on this case.

Jane hesitated for a few moments before raising her hand to the door and knocking on it gently. Best to not scare the lass before she could even enter the room.

“Jane, are you sure?” Abigail’s voice rang out again.

“Stop trying to convince me otherwise Abigail,” Jane’s tone was rather annoyed at this point. “It’s never worked in the past, and each child that has come through my door that has left is not because I’ve decided I’ve had enough or they didn’t want to live with me anymore, or whatever these other foster parents do, but because they are placed back with their families. If I do remember correctly, isn’t that the entire point of fostering in the first place? To get the children reunited with their families?” She gave a pointed look to the social worker from behind her glasses.

The social worker cowered a bit at the look that Jane was giving her. It was quite mindblowing to see a woman of such elegance and poise give her such a dirty look. “Of course, of course. Go on, knock again.”

The blonde knocked again gently three times before she heard a rather mousy “Come in.”

Jane walked into the room as slowly as she could, making herself appear smaller in order to not frighten or startle the girl in the bed. Her eyes landed on the girl in bed, softening immediately.

“Hi Katherine,” she spoke softly. “I’m Jane. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Hi,” the teen squeaked out. “Uhm, you too. Thank you for coming.” She was shy and skittish- that was for sure, but her manners were already worlds above a few of the teenagers she had housed before (Of course they would all have impeccable manners by the time they left the Seymour household- even one night would fix the issue of no manners).

“I’ll let you two get acquainted.” Abigail shot Jane a kind look before slipping out of the room.

Jane, who still stood at the door, asked, “Would you mind if I came closer?” Rather than invading the girl’s personal space, she figured she should give the girl a choice. More often than not, this tactic had proven to be useful for the foster mother in making the children more comfortable and open to her.

Kat nodded, and with permission Jane moved into the chair next to her bed.

“So,” she began, just as gently as she possibly could. “The doctors are saying that they have to monitor you for just another hour to make sure you don’t have any reactions to the medicine before they can release you. And then, if you would like, you’re able to come home with me.” Jane silently prayed that Katherine would agree to come home with her, but she understood if the girl had her hesitations, especially considering the past she must’ve had if she had been through so many foster homes.

Kat sat in silence for a few moments seemingly mulling over a few thoughts in her head.

Jane’s gaze would never leave Katherine. She too would spend this time thinking. How could anyone look at this girl who was clearly so completely terrified and hurt- thinking that they simply couldn’t do the job of looking after her? Even though the girl had only spoken a few words to her, the blonde could already sense that this girl was different from what they had said about her.

“Yes please,” Kat smiled shyly. “And thank you, of course.”

‘What a sweet girl,’ Jane thought. “Of course love. I’m more than happy to have you for as long as you’d like.” And the woman meant what she said- she was more than happy to provide a safe and loving home to a girl who was so desperately in need of it.

The present-day Jane pressed a kiss to the girl’s hairline. “After so much heartache you must have gone through love, I knew that I had a chance to make a difference in your life and provide you with a safe place, even if just for a night.”

“You have made a difference. A good difference. The best difference,” Kat affirmed, finishing her tea.

The blonde had finished her tea a few minutes prior, and now that the teen was finished, she plucked the mugs up from the table. “Should I make us some more, or was that everything love?”

“I wouldn’t mind another cup, although do you think we could sit on the couch?”

“That sounds fine to me dear. Why don’t you head on in and make yourself comfortable? I’ll only be but a few moments,” the older of the two suggested as she made her way to the kettle once more.

“I’d rather just be with you tonight if that’s okay with you,” Kat admitted rather shyly as she followed her soon-to-be mother to the kettle and tucked herself into Jane’s side.

“That’s perfectly fine with me, my love.” The woman wrapped an arm around the teen tightly, a smile clear on her face as she looked at the girl before her with love in her eyes.

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