#they mention the wrong file in the specs and not the right file so I spend a few hours in the wrong one until I give up and poke around

[mattynmarns]

couldnt figure out why my code wasn't working/how they want me to do it. figured out i was in the wrong file. this is the second time this has happened in a week

[hotshotsxyz]

these tangled threads

(buddie) (2.3k words) (6x11 spec) i've been back for five minutes and immediately decided i needed to write some spec fic so uh, here we are, have some coma!buck :)

Evan picks at a loose thread on his sleeve and stares at the screen in front of him. His latest in a long line of temp jobs has him feeling disquieted. Even more lost than usual, somehow. He wonders if it isn’t because he’s back in California.

It’s been years since he graced the west coast with his presence, and it’s hard to explain why he’s back now. 

It certainly isn’t for the work. Digitizing old files might be the worst job he’s ever had, and that includes the summer he spent digging drainage ditches in Florida. 

He’s felt restless, though, as of late, an itch beneath his skin that he can’t seem to scratch. Evan pulls at the thread again and a little more of his sleeve unravels. He lets the red string dangle and returns his attention to the file in front of him. 

June 22nd, 1985. 

Evan sighs quietly and flips the folder open. He arranges the sheets nestled inside by color. Red for fire, white for police, yellow for medical. He pulls the stack of red towards him and begins the process of painstakingly typing in each detail all over again. 

Twenty years of files and he hasn’t even made it through the first. 

…

He’s just begun working on the 26th when there’s a soft knock on the slightly ajar door to his closet-turned-office. A young woman pokes her head in and immediately wrinkles her nose. 

“Wow, I don’t think they could’ve found a darker room to put you in if they tried.”

“It’s uh– it’s… fine?” Evan ventures. 

The young woman snorts and pushes the door further open, allowing a small sliver of natural light to stain the carpet. 

“I’ll have to ask Eddie to find out for sure, but I’m pretty sure this is a fire code violation,” she says with a wry grin. 

Evan smiles, a little cautiously. “You’d know better than me,” he says, tapping the file in front of him, “my knowledge currently ends in 1985.”

The woman chuckles softly. “Anyway, a couple of us are going to grab lunch from the food truck across the street. You want to get out of this cave and come with?”

Evan bites his lip and glances at the stack of files to his left. 

“I’m May, by the way,” she says. 

“Evan,” he replies, but even as he says it, something about it feels wrong. Like the shape of his own name is unfamiliar to his tongue.

“Come on,” May says, backing out of the room but leaving the door wide open, “you’ll go crazy sitting in here all day.”

Evan stands before he’s consciously made the decision to do so. “You’re right,” he says. “Can’t stay here forever.”

…

The food truck reminds him a little of a postcard Maddie sent him a few years back, a generic one with no location and no return address. It’s funny, the way she’d flipped the script on him when she finally left Doug. 

He hasn’t gotten a new one in a few months, but who knows if the long string of forwarding addresses he’s kept is still intact. 

There’s a small group of blue and maroon polo-clad individuals huddled beneath a large beach umbrella nearby, and May leads him to them. 

“Hey guys! This is the new temp Sue mentioned yesterday, Evan,” she introduces him. 

Another wave of discomfort hits him and he frowns a little. He tries to wipe the expression off his face before anyone catches it, but at least one of them notices. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Evan,” May continues, “this is Linda, Josh and Eddie.” She points to each of them in turn. 

Linda and Josh both offer him a warm greeting, but Eddie simply nods. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and a seemingly permanent furrowed brow, and Evan finds himself picking again at his frayed sleeve under the man’s scrutinizing gaze. 

Evan wants to look away, but finds that he can’t. 

The moment seems to stretch and pull into something more akin to molasses than time, slowly crystalizing into a shape that feels recognizable. Evan feels the urge to reach out, the inexplicable need to pull Eddie to safety. 

Eddie’s phone rings, and the moment shatters. 

“Excuse me,” he says, and Evan would swear he’s heard that voice before. 

…

By the time Eddie returns, Evan’s halfway through a taco and a story about his time as a ranch hand. The others seem interested enough, but Evan’s boring himself. He knows how the story ends – another place he couldn’t stay, another set of fraying loose ends. 

“Have we met before?” Eddie suddenly interrupts. 

Evan’s certain they haven’t, certain he would remember if they had, but there’s a nagging sensation in the back of his head that begs him to reconsider. “I’m not sure,” he says after a moment. 

“On a call, maybe?” Eddie presses. 

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I’ve never called 9-1-1,” he says. 

Eddie shakes his head impatiently. “I’m not a dispatcher,” he says. “I used to be a firefighter, though.”

An image flashes through Evan’s mind. It’s Eddie, but he looks younger. Or – maybe younger isn’t right. Less burdened. His posture is straight and he’s wearing turnouts and a warm smile. He has the look of someone who’s settled in his skin, someone who knows exactly who he is and isn’t afraid of that knowledge. He’s so incredibly familiar, but Evan knows they haven’t met. Not in this lifetime, anyway. 

He shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, I don’t think so. I haven’t been in LA in years.” Evan feels like he’s lying, even as he knows he’s telling the truth. 

Eddie’s lips twist into a small frown, a painful expression Evan is suddenly desperate to wipe away. 

“Who was on the phone?” he blurts. 

The question works, and Eddie’s frown fades into something closer to a tired smile. “My son,” he says, “Christopher.”

“Whoa, you got a kid?” Evan’s voice seems to echo in his own ears. 

Christopher, he’s seven. 

And super adorable. 

“One that’s growing up way too fast,” Eddie says. His tone is light, but the guilt in his expression says everything he doesn’t. 

He doing okay?

Better than me. 

Evan turns his attention back to his frayed sleeve, and realizes it isn’t just one string, it’s two, tangled so tightly together he’s sure they’ll never unwind. 

…

“Buck,” someone says, and Evan’s head snaps up so fast it hurts.

There’s no one there. He’s alone in his dingy longstay motel room, picking at a plate of microwave lasagna that makes him wish desperately that he’d learned how to cook somewhere along the way. 

The room shouldn’t feel silent, not with the buzzing air conditioner and thin walls, but it does and it’s oppressive. Evan flips on the TV and hopes it’ll be enough. 

A red headed reporter fills the screen, and something like anxiety twists in his chest. He reaches for the remote but freezes when the image changes. 

“...three alarm blaze that displaced multiple families was extinguished early this morning by multiple teams of firefighters. Incident commander Robert Nash commented at the scene.”

“Our team performed admirably tonight. We just wish you were there with us.”

Evan’s brow furrows and he sits back, watching as the camera pans to two paramedics bandaging the arm of a young firefighter with dark skin and a pained expression.

…

In the morning, a postcard from Maddie arrives. 

Strangely, the image on the front is of a small, nondescript house with three pairs of shoes set neatly by the front door. 

Evan flips the card over to read the inscription. 

We miss you. Please come home.

There’s no postage, and no return address. 

Evan shivers and grabs his hoodie from the bed. It’s only when he pushes his knuckles through the end of his sleeve that he notices his two strings have turned to nine, all varying degrees of tangled, though none as long or as tightly woven as the first two he’d noticed. 

His head aches, and he wishes more than anything he could follow Maddie’s instructions. 

Home though… he doesn’t know where that is. 

…

Evan finds himself at the pier with no memory of how he got there. It looks familiar but wrong, dotted with rides and attractions he knows are long gone. He looks to his left and finds a young boy staring at him, no older than eight. 

“You ever think about what you want to do with your life? What you want to be when you grow up?” the boy asks him. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Evan replies. 

The boy ignores him and continues speaking. “I hope you do find something you love,” he says. 

“I did,” Evan replies instinctively. He hesitates. “Or I thought…”

The boy looks at him, and suddenly he’s older. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck. The doctors can fix you.”

Evan gasps and stumbles back. There’s a roaring in his ears. He turns just in time to see the wave that swallows him whole. 

…

What am I supposed to do if you– you promised, Buck. Chris needs you, and I–

…

Evan sputters and coughs until a river flows from his mouth. He’s standing in a bathroom, in front of a mirror, covered in blood. 

The strings from his tattered sleeve wrap around his fingers now, difficult but not impossible to distinguish from the horrible stains on his skin. 

The door behind him swings open, and a man walks in. 

Immediately, Evan is comforted, though he doesn’t know why. 

“Everyone’s out there,” the man says. “Waiting.”

“Why?” Evan asks. 

The man frowns. 

“I was just the guy standing there when it happened,” Evan continues. 

“I need you to open your eyes, kid,” the man says. 

Evan blinks– once, twice, and he’s back in his office. 

…

The door swings open. 

“None of us are better off, you know,” a woman with a shaved head says as she steps into the room. “I know you think it sometimes, but we’re not.”

“I don’t understand,” Evan says. 

“Bobby’s a wreck. And Eddie… I’ve never seen him react like that to anything. Reminded me of you, actually.”

“You know me?” Evan asks, feeling more and more desperate. The walls around him feel like they’re closing in. 

“Point is, we don’t work without you. So I’m going to need you to wake up and come be a firefighter again, okay?” The woman turns on her heel and leaves. 

“Wait!” Evan calls, but it’s too late. 

He blinks again and finds himself in the middle of a grocery store, clutching a box of cat laxative to his chest. 

…

“Buck?” A man asks, striding towards him. He’s wearing a firefighter’s uniform and has a scar in the middle of his forehead. “Man, what are you doing here,” he says. It doesn’t sound like a question. 

“I'm just here to– to do some... some shopping,” Evan replies. 

The man shakes his head. “This isn’t right,” he says. “It isn’t supposed to happen like this. You need to come home.”

“I want to,” Evan whispers. “I don’t know how.”

The box falls from his hands, tearing at the red strings that no longer seem to come from his sleeve but from his skin instead. 

“Maddie’ll be back soon,” the man says. “She stayed with Jee overnight, but she’s on her way now. I know you’re not going to wake up for me, but maybe you could wake up for her? She needs you.”

The man claps Evan on the shoulder and spins him around, and suddenly he’s face to face with the sister he hasn’t seen in years. 

…

“Maddie!” Evan cries, throwing himself towards her. She catches him in a tight hug. 

“I miss you, little brother,” she says sadly. 

“I’m right here,” Evan says. 

“What happened to you,” Maddie whispers. 

Evan shakes his head. Tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know, Maddie. I’m scared.”

…

He’s flatlining again! 

Ma’am, please step back and let us do our jobs. 

That’s my brother!

And we’re doing everything we can to save him. 

…

Evan gasps awake in his motel room, alone again. Or maybe– he was alone the entire time. Just dreaming. It always feels so real. 

The TV is still on, but now it’s the weather. A grim meteorologist addresses him. 

“High winds and rain are in the forecast tonight, but the real danger is the lightning. Shelter away from tall trees and poles, and whatever you do, don’t go climbing any ladders.”

Evan shudders. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He’s in danger. 

The door swings open, and Eddie walks in. 

“Buck,” Eddie says, and though it isn’t his first time hearing the name, it’s the first time he understands that it’s his. 

Buck stands. 

“You have to open your eyes,” Eddie says, “okay? You have to.”

“I’m looking right at you,” Buck says softly. 

Eddie shakes his head and the meaning is obvious. You’re looking right at me, but you still don’t see.

“The doctor’s,” Eddie says shakily, “they say you might never wake up. But I don’t believe that, Buck. I know you. I know you better than they do and I know you’re not going to give up on us like that.”

Buck reaches out on instinct and lays his string wrapped hand over Eddie’s heart. 

In an instant, it all comes rushing back to him. 

“You have to wake up,” Eddie says. 

“I’m trying,” Buck gasps. 

“You have to, because I can’t do any of this without you, Buck. I don’t want to.”

Buck remembers the moment lightning struck him. He remembers the moment before the pain, remembers feeling, just for a moment, like he might be immortal. He remembers Eddie crying out his name. 

Eddie’s hands encircle his, and the red string tangles them together. 

“Please, Buck,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “Come home.”

With a herculean effort, Buck squeezes back.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Video games are included in their CANON journey

Draft purge!  [This post has been in my drafts since right after 6x9 “Red Flag” aired but I finally decided to post it today. I added a link to my 6B spec fanfic because it relates to it and I added a line about Eddie in 6x10.]

The same way the songs that were played during most of Buck and Eddie’s scenes have been telling their love story; the video games Buck and Eddie, Buck and Christopher and Eddie have played for more than 4 years are also included in Buck and Eddie’s journey to becoming a CANON couple.  They’ve played two video games; one in 3x9 “Fallout” and the second game, “Punch Planet” was played twice; once in 4x3 “Future Tense” and once in 6x9 “Red Flag”.

3x9 “Fallout”

The fact that Buck and Eddie played a video game right after they finished their sexually charged and intense interaction while the two of them were in Buck’s kitchen was significant for several reasons. First, due to the lawsuit Buck filed, they were separated for several weeks and they missed each other like crazy. Second, Buck had already apologized to Eddie once while they were in the firehouse at the end of 3x6 “Monsters” but that apology was for their work partnership.  He apologized to Eddie a second time in 3x9 for two reasons (1) to repair their personal relationship and (2) Buck did something Shannon didn’t do after she abandoned Eddie and Christopher, he admitted he was wrong and he acknowledged he should have been there for them. Third, up to that point, they were the most vulnerable they had ever been with each other and it allowed them to discuss everything they weren’t able to talk about while they were separated including, (1) Buck making things about himself, (2) Eddie’s participation in the fight club and (3) Eddie’s dishonesty during his therapy sessions with Frank.  At the time, Buck was the only person who could make Eddie talk and Eddie reminded him of the way he always makes things about himself. Fourth, the sexual tension between the two of them was palpable and after that night, things changed between them forever. Eddie’s heart eyes for Buck became even more intense than they were before, Buck lost it at The Well after it collapsed on top of Eddie and Eddie changed his will but he didn’t tell Buck about it until one year later.

It’s important to note that right before they played the video game, they were shamelessly flirting with each other while they were in Buck’s kitchen.  Buck said, “I could still take you!” and Eddie responded, “You think so?” and Buck said, “I know”.  Then Buck stood up, strolled towards Eddie with his hand on his belt buckle and asked him “Do you want to go for the title?” He approached Eddie with confidence and it illustrated the way it wasn’t the first time Buck offered to beat Eddie at a “video game” (Yeah right, they weren’t just talking about the game👀👀).  Buck made the invitation and Eddie’s nonverbal response to it was VERY LOUD. He just sipped his beer and nodded his head to the side.  Before that night, the last time they spent time together on-screen was after the Tsunami and I explained the significance of all their sexual tension in another post linked here.

They were having a Buckley-Diaz Family night at Buck’s loft and Buck and Eddie played the game against each other while Christopher cheered them on.  After Eddie won the first round he said, “This is my kind of therapy!” which could mean several different things.  First, him making up with Buck is his kind of therapy because they’re in love and they can’t live without each other. Reminder, Eddie was so upset about not being able to talk to Buck that he told Lena, “And I can’t talk to Buck!” after she bailed him out of jail and he mentioned it again during their argument in the grocery store in 3x5 “Rage” when he told Buck, “No, but he filed that stupid lawsuit and now I can’t even talk to you because of it.”  Second, him spending time with the family he chose (which he alluded to in 3x11 “Seize the Day” during his conversation with Chimney) is his kind of therapy instead of him going to talk to Frank.  Eddie prefers to talk to Buck whenever he’s going through something and that could have been foreshadowing for Eddie’s mental breakdown in 5x13 “Fear-O-Phobia”.  Buck arrived at Eddie’s house after Chris called to tell him something was wrong with Eddie and Buck broke down Eddie’s bedroom door to get to him.  Third, Buck asking Eddie if he wanted to go for the title right before they played the video game was also Eddie’s kind of therapy because Eddie loves being with and spending time with “his Buck”.

Fourth, Eddie knew he was going to win and based on Buck’s comment about them going for the title, it was obvious they’ve played the video game before. Apparently, Buck never won the video game and winning the game was never his intention because he won something a lot more valuable; Eddie’s heart. Reminder, Buck was confident while they were in the kitchen and he approached Eddie right after Eddie looked at him with the most sincere and sensual heart eyes he had ever given Buck. They were making up and Buck didn’t really care about the game because he was determined to get Eddie, the love of his life. The silent conversation they had illustrated everything.  Eddie’s eyes were smiling because he was happy to be with Buck again while Buck’s eyes were determined and the look he gave Eddie showed the way he would never leave him again. Therefore, Eddie winning the video game means the “title” has always been his because he’s in control of their journey to forever just like it was alluded to in 3x1 “Kids Today” when Eddie separated from the group so he could hug Buck first during Buck’s welcome back to the 118 party.  As he embraced Buck the chorus to the song “Come and get your love” was playing (detailed post here). Since Eddie won the video game, he’s the one who will have to make the first move. They’ve already given their hearts to each other but they’re both waiting on the other one to make the verbal confession (the reason why this is true has been explained in detail below).

4x3 “Future Tense”

Christopher and Buck were sitting on The Buckley-Diaz Family’s couch playing “Punch Planet” while Eddie walked around the house collecting all of the technologically advanced electronics he owned. Even though he wasn’t playing the game, he was paying attention to his son and his future husband while they played.  Based on Buck’s facial expression when the scene began, he was winning until Chris said, “Come on Buck!”  Then after Chris said, “I’m beating you!”, Buck responded, “You’re cheating!” and he told Eddie, “Hey man you need to tell your kid...”.

Before Buck could finish his sentence, Eddie walked over, disconnected the game and Buck said, “Or you could just do that!” Chris said, “Dad I was beating him” but Eddie replied, “We’re taking a little break from the internet right now!” Once again Eddie was in control of everything and him disconnecting the game was foreshadowing for him temporarily “disconnecting” from his and Buck’s journey to forever because three episodes later, in 4x6 “Jinx” Eddie saw Ana again and he asked her out on a date.  But in 4x8 “Breaking Point” he made two comments that alluded to the future of his and Buck’s journey to becoming a CANON couple.  He made the first comment after he abruptly ended his date with Ana because Buck and Chris called and he immediately left her apartment right before they were going to kiss so he could go home to his family. After he made it home, Buck said, “You’re late!” and Eddie explained there was construction on Sunset and he had to take a detour.  Also, while the 118 was on the scene of a call with a guy standing on top of a man’s roof, Eddie told the team the guy had at least one bad decision left to make.  Therefore Eddie’s statements were both foreshadowing and metaphors for the detour he took that ended up being a bad decision when he decided to date Ana.

6x9 “Red Flag”

When Buck called Eddie while he was already on a three-way call with Hen and Chimney, Eddie was playing “Punch Planet” alone which means he was fighting against himself.  It was early in the morning and due to the Santa Ana winds, none of them were able to sleep so Eddie was up playing the same game Buck and Christopher played in 4x3.

After Buck made his announcement about being responsible for the creation of new life or whatever that ridiculousness was that he said, Eddie’s facial expression showed he wasn’t happy about it.  He looked frustrated which could mean he couldn’t believe Buck still hadn’t realized he had already given him a son and a family (I wrote a 6B speculation fanfic about this and it’s linked here) when he added Buck to his will.  Also it seemed like Eddie couldn’t believe Buck donating his sperm had become his reality.  The more Buck, Hen and Chimney talked; the more frustrated Eddie became and it looked like he was on the verge of having a panic attack.  Prior to that night, the last time Eddie had a panic attack was in 5x8 “Defend in Place” when they were trying to save Parker and his baby sister during the hospital fire.  After he lost his round of “Punch Planet”, he became upset and then he abruptly dropped off the call.

Eddie has always been in control of the “video game” by either winning against Buck in 3x9, disconnecting Buck and Christopher’s game in 4x3 or by losing the game he played alone in 6x9.  Therefore, it appears the game is being used as both a metaphor and foreshadowing for Eddie’s love confession.

Buck has always followed Eddie’s lead and that started in 2x1 “Under Pressure” when Buck told Eddie he was going into the ambulance with him to remove the grenade from Charlie’s leg. It continued in 2x4 “Stuck” after he stepped in and helped Eddie get Christopher what he needed.  He’s been waiting for Eddie’s confession for a long time and every time Buck was about to reveal his feelings to Eddie; Eddie either reconnected with his estranged wife, started a relationship with a girlfriend or he told Buck to move on.  Buck told Dr. Copeland in 4x2 “Alone Together” he thought she was right about the way he hides his true feelings from others.  It seemed like he may have been ready to tell Eddie then but his parents showed up and caused all that drama and then Eddie started dating which prompted Buck to pursue someone he already knew wasn’t right for him.  Then Eddie got shot and Buck’s world crumbled because the love of his life almost died right in front of him.  When Eddie told Buck about his will, Buck misunderstood Eddie’s intention because it appears he thinks he can only be a father to Chris if Eddie dies.  So Buck is waiting on Eddie to make the first move since Eddie’s been the one who has been in control of the video game/their relationship which means he’s the one who has to face the fact that his reality with Buck will be better than the fantasy.

Eddie dropped the controller after he fell asleep on his family’s couch so that could mean one of two things.  Either Eddie’s decided to give up on his fantasy or he’s going to stop playing games and face his reality.

When Buck gets struck by lightning in 6x10 “In a Flash” Eddie just might make the confession since Buck is going to be on the brink of death.

Will they continue to play video games in 6B or will Eddie finally confess his love for Buck?  Only the showrunner(s), writers and producers know the answer to that question.

[noshitbarnes]

Anti-Hero: Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: After being experimented on as a young child and given abilities, Daniela has become a highly skilled member of the Avengers, and has even been assigned to mentor Peter Parker. Little does she know that the happiness she’s been able to find will become threatened by the very people who started her on her path long ago.

Warnings: angst, language, and mentions of torture

Word Count: 2,887

Notes: This has been in my WIPs for the longest time, so I decided to finally finish it up and let y’all read it! This chapter is just the set-up for Daniela’s character, so please be patient with me on the story development! I appreciate it! And as always if you want to be tagged in anything let me know!

Anti-Hero Masterlist

THREE YEARS EARLIER

"So, Sergeant Daniela Velikov, right?”

Daniela hears the voice, but doesn’t think much of it, thinking it was either her boss, Phil, or maybe Fitz from the lab with more specs for a new hand blaster. She finishes typing her sentence and then looks up from the screen towards the figure that was standing in front of her. The man’s suit was a dark navy blue that hugged his frame tightly, there was a large dark black star across his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was currently looking down at a file he had in his hands, he seemed quite interested in it; however, Daniela could still make out the dark circles under his eyes and the beard. She furrowed her brows while looking him over, thinking he could really use a shave, not that he looked bad, but that he'd look better if he trimmed his beard a bit. She stared at him a little while longer, thinking he looked slightly familiar, but the scruff and the dark suit told her she was wrong. It was when he finally looked up from the file, his blue eyes meeting her gaze that she knew who he was, Steve Rogers.

Quickly, she moves to stand at attention in front of him, "Yes, sir! Sergeant Velikov of the 78th Marines.”

"Well," Steve smirks as he looks her up and down, "you're not a Marine anymore,” Daniela smiles lightly as Steve looks back down at the file, “all right at ease, Sergeant,” she moves her feet apart and clasps her hands behind her back, “you have a very impressive resume for being just 23,” he closes the file and looks back to her.

Daniela wasn’t completely sure why Steve was here or why he was complimenting her. She had a feeling it most likely had something to do with the Avengers, she’s had many many talks with Phil about the team. Phil wanted her to join them, fight aliens, be a hero, maybe even lead the team in the future. His aspersions for her were always higher than her own.

Daniela decides to keep it cool and play along, "Thank you, sir, I've worked really hard to get where I am.”

He hums lightly and nods in agreement, "I got word about five months ago that there was someone within SHIELD who had some special abilities,” he raises glances at her to see if her demeanor changes, which it didn’t, "Coulson thought you might know who it is."

She tilts her head slightly trying her best to act dumb, "He did?”

He nods, "Sure did, got any ideas or should I start guessing?"

She shrugs one shoulder, "I don't work much with the rest of the team, sir, I usually do solo missions, so I wouldn't be the best person to ask."

Daniela made a rookie mistake, got all mushy one night, and told Phil a few things about her past, was a little too honest. She'd been apart of the team for about six months and the loneliness had gotten to her, she wasn't getting along with anyone at that point and the missions she'd been on were emotionally taxing, even for her. Phil was the only one that had shown any interest in being a friend, so after a particularly difficult mission, Daniela had a few too many drinks and went to his office and told him everything. It wasn't really anything Phil didn't already know, he was a SHIELD agent after all, he knew about her parents, how old she really was, and where she grew up, but he wasn't aware of her abilities. She never imagined that one night of confiding in a friend would lead to Steve Rogers showing up at her desk asking her questions.

Steve looks at her sternly and gestures to the file in his hand, "Do you know what this is?" Daniela shakes her head and he continues, "Coulson has personal files for every member of his team. Mostly for basic things, mission stats, what they like, what they don't, weaknesses, strengths, injuries," he drops the file behind her on her desk and points to it, "and that one's yours, so I'll ask you one more time Sergeant, do you know anyone here who has enhanced abilities?"

She glances at the file then back to Steve, with a blank expression. She had no problem lying, it was in her blood, after all she'd been doing it her entire life, but she did have a problem lying to Steve Rogers, America’s golden boy. She grew up watching him, idolizing him, and praying some day that maybe he'd come and save her too. Steve was one of the reasons she got into the army in the first place, along with more personal reasons.

Daniela takes a small calming breath, "Why does it even matter?"

Steve sighs, "Because if this person has enhanced abilities, I need to find out if their using them for the right reasons. I won't led SHIELD fall again."

Steve knew that the girl in front of him posed no threat because of the high praise Phil gave her, and Phil was one of the few he could actually trust. The only reason he was even here, grilling this woman, was because of Tony. The past few years had been rough on everyone and Tony thought it would be good for Steve to get out of the compound and try to recruit a few new faces. The entire purpose of recruitment now was to build a future team, with a good leader, and if Steve could persuade her, Daniela would be perfect.

Daniela pauses for a moment, "But why should they trust you?"

Steve pauses, he hasn’t had anyone question his motives in quiet some time, it was almost refreshing, "I'm not here to gain your trust, Sergeant, this isn't some game, I'm looking for answers," he frowns slightly when her expression doesn't change, "just be honest with me," he sighs when she still doesn't answer, "I think you realize I already know."

Daniela shifts her weight to her left foot and nods slowly, "I.. Coulson was the only one I told and that was about a year ago ago," she looks to the ground and closes her eyes, "not that he didn't already know, the man is a spy after all," this leads to a small chuckle from Steve, but Daniela continues, "this is why I knew opening up to anyone would be a mistake. I only use my powers when I'm on solo missions, so I can avoid questions about how I got them. I thought I was doing a pretty good job at hiding things,” she opens her eyes and looks back to him, “I've been running from my powers my entire life, sir," she hesitates slightly afraid of sharing, but she continues, hoping he would understand, "if it makes any difference, I don't like that I have them either, but um, it wasn't exactly my choice."

Steve listens intently, hearing not just her words, but the emotions behind them. He knew about her past, but only surface details, like where she was born and raised, who her parents are, and that they were the ones who gave Daniela her powers. If he was being completely honest, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to know exactly how she got them. Being a guinea pig of any kind is not a fun process.

Steve keeps his poker face and decides to change the subject, "You've been with SHIELD for nearly two years, never had any disciplinary actions, never asked any questions, have always done what you’re told. You're no doubt the best agent Coulson's got,” he looks her up and down assessing her, surprised such skill could come from someone so small, “so why stop here? Got any higher aspirations?"

Daniela chuckles lightly, the change of subject a slight relief, "Are you trying to get me to join the Avengers? I thought that was usually Stark's gig."

"He's got the day off," he smiles and continues, "the team would love to see a new face, have some help with missions,” she looks to him slightly confused, so he explains further, “we need some young faces to be the future of the team, the rest of us can’t do this forever. How about it? Coulson thinks you’d fit in with us well, maybe even help run it at some point.”

Daniela scoffs lightly at his remark and shakes her head. She’s always believed in what she did, she put her heart and soul into it, and sometimes that cost her, but there was no way she wanted to lead a team of superheroes, "With all due respect, Captain, I don't think that's up my ally.”

He takes in a deep breath and takes a step closer, now only a few feet from her, "Show me what you can do,” after all, it’s what he came here for.

The sudden closeness shocks her and her eyes grow wide, "W-what?"

He smiles sweetly and nods his head to her hands, "We just agreed that you have powers, now show me.”

She visibly clenches her jaw to calm her growing temper, “Yes, sir.”

Daniela slowly unclasps her hands and brings them around in front of her. She then turns them over, palms now facing the ceiling, while taking a deep calming breath, her hands begin to glow a soft icy white. Steve watches her hands intently, thoroughly impressed with what he's seeing. Moments later she starts a small fountain from her palms, letting the water flow freely for a few heartbeats, then freezes the water over quickly, “There.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, Phil wasn’t kidding, this girl really did have talent, but she had one more secret, "What else?”

She closes her hands abruptly causing the ice to shatter and fall to the floor around their feet, “Well... I um... I don’t tell many about the rest of my powers, sir.”

“Do I need to earn your trust?”

She shakes her head and furrows her brows, “Um... not exactly,” she purses her lips, “I’m just more worried about scaring people.”

Steve smirks slightly, “You realize that my best friend has a vibranium arm and I live with the Scarlet Witch. Those are just the calm ones, we also have an archer who climbs through the vents.”

That made her relax a bit and she chuckles, making Steve smile-- she had a cute laugh. Daniela didn’t know much about the Avengers personal life, other than what Phil told her, which wasn’t much, “Barton climbs in the vents?”

He shakes his head, “Yeah, I don’t ask why.”

Steve didn’t really ask too many questions about the others, figured it was none of his business, although if they wanted to share he’d happily listen. Some say that made him cold and off-putting, that he was too much of a soldier, but it wasn’t that at all, he cared too much. He was worried that getting too close to those he worked with would just put them in danger.

Daniela giggles and Steve continues, “Anyway, what else can you do? I won’t tell a soul,” he holds up two fingers, “scouts honor.”

She heavily sighs, “I... um, alright... my powers. They call it cryo-electricity. I can manipulate ice and lightning either at the same time or separately. I’ve learned over the years I can use water and frost too.”

Bringing her right hand back up in front of her, palm still facing the sky, she curls her fingers inward slightly, as if she was holding a ball. She scowls slightly at her hand, still unsure about showing him, but he already knew, so might as well. Clenching her teeth, trying to focus on her hand, small violet colored sparks begin to dance from her fingers like little strings. It wasn’t much, but it proved the point that she could do it.

"Impressive," he meets her gaze when the sparks die out and sees hesitation in her eyes, "I'm not saying you have to join, but you'd be helping a lot of people, and I know that's what you want."

Seeing that she still wasn't sure, he decides to take a different approach, and grabs the folder off her desk, "Says here you where on the fast track to joining the SRT squad before you were recruited to SHIELD,” he raises a curious eyebrow, looking over the file, "they don't normally allow women to join.”

The SRT team was the Special Reaction Team that responds to more dangerous and high risk situations within the military base. Basically they were the army equivalent of a SWAT team. They actually don’t allow women to join, but the General that Daniela worked under saw great potential in her and said he’d grant her request when it was time. She thought she would be able to help more people if she was on the squad, which is partiality what she wanted. She still had another year left before officially applying for the team when Phil found her and convinced her of a different path.

She nods at Steve, "They said I fit the bill for what they needed, sir.”

He purses his lips in agreement, she was a fine soldier, not a lot of women can say they were a Sergeant in the Marines. He then tilts his head curiously at her, “What made you want to be with SHEILD then? You could've gotten everything you wanted with SRT. Action, adventure, helping people, what changed?”

"I um,” Daniela takes a deep breath, "it's of personal nature, sir.”

"Got anything to do with your parents?” He lightly throws the file back onto the desk causing her eyes to widen.

"Possibly, sir," she pauses, “I um, I didn't realize you knew about them.”

Unfortunately for Steve, he knew all to well who her parents were, he just never realized that they had a daughter, “Stark and I had," he nods his head side-to-side, "a chance encountered with your father once, about a year ago, it ended with him getting away,” he frowns slightly at the ground and then looks back into Daniela's eyes, “Didn’t realize he had a daughter.”

Daniela’s parents always got away. She was starting to think they were destined to live free while she was destined to spend her eternity chasing after them like an idiot. They needed to pay, no, had to pay for what they did, not just to her, but for what they’re continuing to do. They’re monsters.

“Yeah, they’re not particularly proud of me, sir. They think that what happened to me was a blessing and that I am wasting my gift," she sighs and looks to the floor, "My apologies for having to deal with him.”

"No need, not your doing," she looks back to him and his eyes had softened, "you turned out quiet the opposite of him.”

"I um,” she scoffs, "I've worked my whole life to be the opposite of them both. I’ve tried to use what they cursed me with for the greater good, sometimes I can, some days, not so much,” she looks at her hands and shakes her head.

He takes a few steps towards her and rests a hand on her shoulder, "You've made a huge difference and changed a lot of lives, for the better,” she smiles weakly and he takes his hand away, "I can help you take the fight to Hydra. I can't promise we'll see your parents, but I can promise that if we do, we'll make them pay for what they did.”

"I've been fighting Hydra for decades, sir," she chuckles lightly, "Phil did the same speech with me years ago and he was able to convince me enough to join up here. After all these years, I have yet to see either of them.”

Steve nodded forgetting that her true age didn't show, “Well, I don't suggest you actually go looking for them,” he looks to her sternly, “you might not be happy with what you find.”

Daniela mumbles softly to herself, "Never stopped you,” he raises his eyebrows at her in surprise, "I'm sorry, sir, that was uncalled for.”

"It's alright," he shrugs and continues, "but I do know from experience that dwelling on the past only causes more pain.”

Moving on was something Daniela didn't do well, even after over 90 years. Little things tended not to bother her so much now, but childhood trauma was something that she still couldn't let go of. After all, her parents tortured her, changed her DNA, gave her powers, and then abandoned her at an orphanage when she didn't agree with their evil plan all by the age of eight. How can anyone just wake up one morning and go, "Yeah, this is fine."? The best course of action is to just fake a smile, bury the emotions deep, and hope that one day they'll die.

Daniela stares at him and blinks, "So I've been told, sir.”

[cricutmachinemaker]

How to Setup Cricut: A Quick Start Guide for Beginners!

Unsure about how to setup Cricut? It’s easier than you think! I still can’t forget the day my first Cricut setup went wrong😅. It all happened because I didn’t check my PC’s system requirements before setting up the machine (I think this is the mistake one can ever make). But it’s better late than never!

As I mentioned, unchecking my device’s specs caused a software crash. Many such issues could arise, but thanks to my friend Emma. Being an exceptional crafter, she saved me then. Those were the days, and today is the day I setup my machine on my own. I also helped many crafters out there with their machine setup.

In this post, I will teach you the same thing and show you step-by-step how to setup your machine with ease. Let’s jump right into it without any further ado!

Step 1: Check System Requirements for Cricut

Whenever I setup a machine, I check the system specs. I find this step very important. Otherwise, the software might corrupt later, and it’ll be useless to use on such a device that doesn’t support this app.

Here’s what you need to check before setup:

Ensuring the above specs is enough for you to learn how to setup Cricut without a hitch. Also, you can proceed to the next step. Let’s delve into it.

Step 2: Download Cricut Design Space

The Design Space software plays a huge role in setup. Without this, a setup is incomplete. Therefore, I will show you how to download it using the following steps. Here’s how to download the app:

Step 3: Install Cricut Software on Your PC

Once you have downloaded the software, make sure you have saved your .exe file in the correct file or folder. Then, go to that folder and follow the steps described below.

Here’s how to install Design Space on a PC (Windows 10):

Finally, installation is also done. Now, what’s next? Let’s check it out!

Step 4: Connect Cricut to a Windows Computer

Connection without which you can’t bring your creative ideas to real life. Yes, that’s possible only because of this connection process. So, let me guide you through connecting the machine to the PC via Bluetooth.

Here’s how to establish a connection between devices:

Finally, you are just a step away from completing your setup. Then, you will be crafting it hassle-free😍.

Step 5: How to Setup Cricut

I’m glad to see you here on this final step😁. Ensure you are all set, from checking system specs to downloading and connecting to the machine. Follow the steps to finish the process:

FAQs

Question 1: Is it a must to check system specs before Cricut setup?

Answer: Yes, checking specs is necessary to enjoy hassle-free software performance. Sometimes, incompatible devices can lead to software failure. Therefore, check before downloading the software. This way, their app will not crash frequently. In short, check all specs such as operating system, CPU, disk space, RAM size, etc.

Question 2: How to setup Cricut on a MacBook?

Answer: Look at the following steps to setup your machine in less time:

Question 3: Which laptop is the best for setting up my Cricut?

Answer: While choosing the best laptop, check the following: 

Visit: cricut.com/setup

Source: https://cricricutdesigncut.wordpress.com/2024/09/07/how-to-setup-cricut-a-quick-start-guide-for-beginners/

[jaylaxies]

WORK FOR IT

PAIRING : dom!secretary!heeseung x ceo!fem!reader

GENRE : smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, angry sex, jealousy, uses of nicknames (doll), office sex, mentions of laziness, lack of professionalism, boss secretary relationship, making hee work to prove that he's not lazy.

WC : 2k words

SYNOPSIS : lee heeseung is probably the laziest person you've ever come across, and coincidentally, he's also your personal assistant. to get him to work, you pull out the you're fired card, that's when he shows you how efficient he actually is.

WARNING : 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N : hihi! i'm back with a hee fic! all likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! i love to get feedback from y'all <3

this fic is a part of collaboration with @enhoesnetwork for the theme: 7 deadly sins, my topic being 'sloth', i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

"he's late, again." your voice boomed inside your empty office, complaining to no one in particular. it was important day for your company, a meeting with your potential future shareholders at that. the problem? your secretary was nowhere to be found during the meeting. meaning: the presentation lacked a myriad of important information, the information that your secretary had in the files he kept 'safe' with him.

that was your last straw. lacking in his work? fine to some extent, everyone needs to rest but, missing out on important days as such today wasn't and will never be acceptable to you or to your company.

"i found him in the bar all drunk and wasted, ms. l/n." park jay had told you when lee heeseung had taken an off for his apparent 'bad fever' which wasn't fever at all. you let it slide once.

and then, it went on, "he forgot the files at home.", "he slept during the meeting.", "he showed up in the wrong attire.", "he forgot to send in refreshment meals.", and you've had enough.

being a secretary was a job that specially required people who are diligent, enthusiastic and zealous. your secretary on the other hand, was on the verge of getting fired for being the opposite.

yes, the staff loved him. his lazy smile, his nonchalant attitude, his attractive face and melodious voice. but is that what it takes to be working at a top tier company? no.

you once heard your employees betting that heeseung came to work only to see you, that he wanted to get in your pants, or skirt since that was your work attire. they may have been right. you never missed the longing stares he sent your way, or the slight brushing of your fingers together as he handed over the file. he, indeed, wanted to fuck you. the flirty comments proving it further.

yes, you admit that he was a fine specimen to look at and maybe to go a base up or two. but workplace rules said otherwise and maintaining your sanity then became your topmost priority. you didn't want a big article on the news saying: ceo found fucking his sectary during the work hours. no, absolutely not.

a sudden slam of door broke your train of thoughts. lee heeseung, the man himself, stood there panting, as if he ran all the way towards the office, his face morphed into that of a horrific one. he knew.

"i'm so sorry, ms. l/n, i–i didn't mean to be late–"

"you're fired." your tone was calm, collected, everything opposite to what heeseung seemed in front of you.

his eyes went wider, wider than his usual big doe ones. he shook his head firmly, trying to understand the depth of the situation. he needed this job.

"mr. park will be your replacement." you finalized as heeseung stared at your red lips.

"please give me another chance, ms. l/n, i promise i'll work harder and better." he announced oozing sudden confidence.

you looked up at him, finally taking his appearance in. hair disheveled, tie barely in its place, specs perched on his nose, shirt sleeves rolled up and breathing rigged. after a second of scanning him, you bore eyes into his.

"work for it then, mr. lee." you suggested.

he raised an eyebrow, taking a step further, still unsure, "how can i work, ms. l/n?"

"work hard, mr. lee, show me that you deserve to be my secretary and not mr. park." you urged him.

another step forward.

"show me that you're worthy enough to be here, working with me."

another step. his tall, slender frame towered over yours. your gaze challenging him further. his big hands grabbed your waist, his face inches away from yours, and placed you on your desk. the intensity of the gaze only increasing as he spread open your legs, standing in between them. his clothed crotch area touching yours, making you gasp lowly.

he bent down to come to your level, "i'll show you what im capable of, ma'am."

you bit your lip as heeseung attacked your neck with kisses, slow and agonizing at pace. "is that hard working, heeseung?" you had never called him his name before. not once. it rolled off your tongue perfectly. he decided he wanted to hear more of it, and so he would.

the soft kisses soon turned into harsher ones, the kind to leave marks behind by the next day. his large hands holding you in your place as you lost yourself in the pleasure he was willing to provide. your hand on his broad shoulder to support you further.

he unbuttoned the two buttons of your blouse, your matching lace bra on display along with your tempting cleavage. he stared at it, licking his lips before diving right to fondle with your breasts, fully removing the blouse along with the bra in the process.

the lights were dim, the curtains closed, yet heeseung's face shone brightly as he expertly licked your sensitive bud while massaged the other boob. the sensation heightening as his hand moved south to rub your clothed clit. you sucked in a deep breath, feeling his big fingers circling you expertly, you wanted them inside you.

"heeseung–" that made him speed up further, pushing your panties aside and rubbing on your slick wet cunt.

you threw your head back as his slender finger entered you, curling inside you. a mess, that's what you looked like now while he worked with expertise on you. soon, another digit was added, hitting you deep in your g-spot as his mouth sucked soon to be hickeys on your clavicle.

he then kissed you, rough yet soft, haste and passionate, like he had mastered this particular art of kissing. you gasped into his mouth as he added his third finger, stretching you out good. his pace never slowed down, even for a second. his mind telling him to keep going on. why? cause he's hardworking. not lazy, not slow, only hardworking and passionate.

"still wanna fire me, doll?" a cocky grin plastered onto his perfectly sculpted face.

the door wasn't locked, anyone could just walk in on you two doing the deed yet you didn't mind, your mind was foggy as heeseung serenaded your lips. with a bite on your lower lip, he pulled away, a string a saliva still connecting you both. he worked further, getting down on his knees to replace his fingers with his tongue.

his grip on your thighs tight enough to leave bruised handprints later, he left butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, your breathing rigged and shaky now. you moaned his name as you felt his mouth against your core, licking and sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves. you hand guiding his head as you gripped his already messy hair.

he groaned against your cunt, sending shivers all over your body. you've been eaten out before, but never this good, it felt as if all your senses had heightened up to max.

his perfectly sharp nose brushed against your clit as he continued to please you. the stimulation too much for you to hold in, your climax building up with him inserting his tongue to fuck you. he didn't allow down, not for a second. he loved this too much.

'lee heeseung' the only name on your mind, it's like you had forgotten the existence of other beings all at once. and so you screamed his name as you came all over his pretty mouth, legs trembling.

"good girl." he praised, before licking your juices clean, humming for, he loved how you tasted, how he wanted to taste you for so long. dreaming about tasting your boss was one thing, implementing it? a whole new level.

your sheer blouses, skirts that hugged your figure perfectly, and that red lipstick. he wanted to ruin you since the day he started working here, he didn't know his laziness would get him here though.

his voice sent your brain into a frenzy. deep yet melodious. the one with authority dripping off it. he didn't waste a second before picking you up and throwing you on the couch, a gasp leaving your mouth at the impact. he pulled your skirt down along with your panties and leaned back to look at you.

hair a mess, chest rising up and down, fully bare with nothing but your pencil heels on. he smirked, biting his lips and whistling lowly.

"tell me, ms. y/n." another boundary broken, he called you your name. "am i not hard-working?' he feigned hurt, loosening his tie and unbuckling the belt, finally letting the pant fall down to show that he, indeed, was hard.

"heeseung–" you started but were interrupted with him rubbing his now fully free cock on your still sensitive core, his mouth near your ear, the sound of his breathing causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"can mr. park do this?" his tip was now placed at your entrance, slowly and barely sliding in. his soft hair fell near your shoulder, softy brushing, tickling your bare skin.

"n–no, he cannot–" you were yet again interrupted as heeseung pushed his dick inside you, filling you up as whole.

you had no clue how you were able to accommodate his size, large veiny dick all inside you, stretching you out pleasurably. without further delay, he started fucking you into the couch. each stroke powerful and proving a point. soft whimpers leaving your mouth as you clenched around his thick cock.

"y/n." heeseung groaned near your ear, your back arched with pleasure as he fondled your breasts with need. he was angry and had a pretty human to fuck, someone who he wanted for a long time.

he put your leg on his shoulder, giving him more access to fuck you. his thrusts now sloppy and strong. you cried as your felt another knot in your stomach, your nails scratched his back, marking him in a way.

"louder, i want everyone to hear you." he ordered with a raspy voice, his own dick twitching inside you. as he pulled out and switched you to be on your fours, ass up.

breathy moans left you both as he entered you again, slamming into you faster than before. only if the walls weren't soundproof, the whole building would've definitely heard you both. he grabbed your ass to support you further, not stopping once in the process.

"heeseung please." you were too close.

"go on, doll, cream my cock." and you did, gasping for air as he kept ramming into you for his release.

he pulled out and spilled all over your back, moaning your name in the process. after a breath or two, he grabbed your chin.

"go and ask jay if he can work this hard and you'll see for yourself, miss." his face so close, as he whispered against your lips.

he pecked you once, harshly at that, before cleaning you and helping you dress up and asking you if you're alright, demeanour fully changing. a knock at the door pulled you back to reality as jay entered the room, confused about heeseung still being here.

"mr. lee will continue working as my secretary, i'm sorry mr. park." you announced and jay turned to see heeseung smirking without any shame, rather, throwing daggers from his eyes at him for being the snobby complaining snitch.

"but, ms. l/n–" jay started, your still slightly smudged lipstick telling him exactly what went down between you two.

"did i not make myself clear, mr. park?" you lift up your eyebrow. and he sighed.

"yes ma'am." was all he said, gritting his teeth, before storming off the office, angry.

"shall we continue working then, ms. l/n?"

little did he know that the next time he'll lack/laze around, he won't be the one proving himself but, he'll be the one who'll get punished instead.

"we shall, mr. lee."

taglist : @en-cityzen @iamhae @sunghoonsworld @itsmeelily @softforqiankun @ye0njunzp1xie @solovelylovelyz @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @heenotes @sungniverse @shinramyeonz

PERMANENT TAGLIST OPEN!

© jaylaxies

[eniosta]

hello my loves.

a few things. first; i will most certainly be active again from july into the foreseeable future. this break was greatly needed, but used wisely. i am rested and refreshed and looking forward to being active again. i have some new content that i’m super excited to share with you, and i’m already working on my birthday set for this year (the big three-oh)!

also...i want to touch on 2 things that have been bothering me for a while now. when i started creating on patreon, i thought that i needed to offer something exclusive, you know, to say thank you to the people who choose to support me. make it worth their while. well - it turns out i was wrong, and i’ve felt pretty guilty about it basically the entire time. so i’m cutting this practice - i’ve just made months worth of ‘patron gifts’ public access. i think what i’ll do moving forward is have my early access sets, once or twice a month (depending on size), and continue with a single .package file as a patron gift once a week - but those will now also be early access rather than exclusive. i hope you can support me in this decision. it feels like the right thing to do, the same way dropping my tier prices felt like the right thing to do.

the other thing is that i’ve seen lots of discussion lately about half-finished work, and i’m actually quite proud to say that this discussion hit me right in the pride and i realised that i have been guilty of this for the longest time. if you examine my work, you will note that there is not a bump nor a spec map in sight (for the most part). i really, truly hate the whole cube map system, but the truth is i was too lazy to learn how to make it work for my style. well, i’m happy to say those days are over my friends. i am now confident in my specular abilities, and have seen the error of my ways. please accept my apologies for my lackadaisical attitude towards these aspects of creating in the past. i will do better.

lastly. i would like to say thank you to those in this community that call out the two issues i’ve mentioned above. it shouldn’t take someone jumping up and down about these things for someone to take action and change their behaviour, but sometimes that is exactly what it takes.

ok thanks for coming to my ted talk love you bye x

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Trying To Balance With A Part Of Yourself Missing

Pairing: none

Summary: Thor bargains with Odin on Loki’s sentence, and he wins. Loki is moved with the Avengers to fix his past mistakes. But Odin’s term changes everything, and Loki’s foe is not their mistakes, but their self-image

Warnings: a lot of them, so I will be having warnings on each chapter individually

Note: when a dialogue is in bold, Loki speaks English. When a line outside a dialogue is in italics it's an intrusive thought

Chapter 3: Losing control

chapter summary: Loki takes revenge of Thor for his disrespect, but it doesn't make things any better

warnings: language, violence, periods, gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, internalized racism, intrusive thoughts, panic attacks, nightmares.

First | previous | AO3 | next

It takes a few wrong turns and a lot of muttered curses for Loki to admit the harsh truth, they’re lost. Even with Friday’s directions, the corridors are too bright and monochromatic for him to navigate. And with short walls, they have to untangle their horns from somewhere every other step

He stops when he hears Roger’s voice from a room, and stays right behind the door. “Friday, translate, please,” they whisper.

“I would advise you against eavesdropping, Loki,” she argues. Loki rolls his eyes, gaining a sigh from the robot.

“You didn’t say you’d bring him" Rogers snaps, hot rage barely staying in control.

"Would you accept him if I did? We are heroes, for fucks sake, and I'm their brother, I can't abandon them again, not after what Father did," Thor argues, his anger so visible it slithers in Loki, feeding their own.

"He's blue, I noticed, what's the deal?" Roger huffs. Loki has to hold himself from storming in.

"What's the deal? They've lost their seiðr, their magic. It's his weapon, his armour, a part of who he is, and he was stripped off it! They're not whole," Thor tries to defend him, after daring to use this damned name again? Is he serious?

Loki storms in, ignoring Steve as they glare at Thor. “Are you-you s-s-serious or j-just try-trying to pr-pr-provoke me?” He snarls, feeling Thor’s anger and confusion.

“Brother, I was simply advocating for you,” he explains, Loki doesn’t need his eyes to see Thor’s eyes widening as he pretends to be a hurt puppy.

“You w-w-wish to be-to be my advocate wh-when you d-d-don’t even use my na-name? And you d-d-d-dare to try to s-s-sympathize with my p-pain when your br-br-br-brain cannot gr-gr-gr-grasp what-what I’ve been th-through?” they question, spitting the words without even thinking about them. But the mention of these things makes his stomach drop. No, they refuse to cry, not now that they have to prove they’re not weak. Rogers just watches the show, at least he can understand only a part of the conversation.

“Name? What are you talking about?” he asks, all pretending to be so innocent. Wait, he actually doesn’t know.

“My f-f-file, in 2012. You fill-filled it, and you-you used that-that n-n-n-name on me!” he explains, feeling the last spec of patience running out. Thor’s confusion turns into guilt.

“Father was using it again after your death, twas the force of habit,” he makes an excuse.

Thor’s head slams the wall, the concrete cracking behind him and Loki’s fiery red eyes, crazed with rage, drilling holes in his thick skull. “You w-w-were the-the f-f-first person I t-t-told a-about that fu-fucking name, you know m-m-more than everyone why-why-why I h-h-hate it, and you’ve seen-seen how O-Odin used it on-on me. And yet, you st-st-still p-p-p-put it on my f-f-file because of-of the f-f-force of ha-habit?” they snap, grabbing Thor's throat.

"L-l-listen to me-to me very cl-cl-closely, my name is Laufeyson, and if you e-ever use a-any other na-name than m-mine, I will t-t-t-turn you into an ice st-st-statue, do you understand?" He whispers and releases the grip on the oaf’s throat, leaving a nasty frostbite where his fingers used to be. With half the rage they carried, they turn to Rogers.

"Next t-time you-you wish to-to que-que-question m-m-my st-st-stay, t-t-talk to me ab-ab-about it," he snarls, not even caring enough to do anything more. Rogers stays still, letting them walk away and right into their room.

He closes the door behind him and leans against it, taking a deep breath. Then, they start noticing the pain.

Well, he has gotten a bit mass after transitioning, the chest plate is now squeezing his ribcage, filling him with pains he had almost forgotten, along with the familiar breathlessness and feeling of burning inside this shit. It's probably the warmer room, they'll ask Friday to cool it down if possible…

Then, he notices a second pain, one he wished he could forget. "Fr-Friday, ple-ple-please tell me-me that I'm going i-i-insane," they sigh, hoping that it's anything but the shit they suspect.

"You won't like the answer," she mutters, almost as if she understands. Loki starts cursing under his breath and leaps to the bathroom, still hoping it's just a lie. But the bloody stains prove them wrong, mock them.

It's fine, it's fine. Just a small spell and he can make a pad. It's easy, they've done it countless times before. But, after the spell, nothing appears, how could it? He sighs and covers the stains with paper lying there, only to fetch some old rags and rip them with his fangs, to make something that could hold the flow back.

Before the shapeshifting, whenever hating their breasts and suffering, they would take out the chest plates, only to ease the stinging and pain in the ribs. But today, there's no way he can stay with those shits out. Though, every time they get those after shifting, it's particularly bad, and they still feel like they're burning inside this thing…

Wait, is he also sick? Can they get sick while in this form at all? "Tem-tem-temperature l-l-levels and wh-wh-wh-white bl-bl-bl-blood cell l-l-levels pl-please," he huffs, instinctively wiping away the feeling of sweat from his forehead.

"Your temperature is around a healthy level for humans but high for your biology, white cells are normal and there's no other sign of infection. Tho, there's a high level of testosterone, estrogen and progesterone. In more simple words, it's less like a menstrual cycle and more like an estrous cycle, but not quite," she answers, even though it doesn't help at all with the whole situation.

They let out a groan, remembering again the rib pain. Yes, he won't be able to stand this shit any longer. They sigh and leave the bathroom, trying to get out of this tight leather shit, without looking down and, hopefully, without taking out a huge patch of skin in the process. And yes, it is even harder than it sounds, especially when the pain starts reflecting on his waist as well. Fuck, is there any part of their body that's relatively fine?

Without even daring to look down, he just lays on the bed and covers himself with the blanket, turning around to find a semi comfortable position and getting both the blanket and his hair tangled in the process. And after getting comfortable, they realise it's hot as Hel in there. Great, this edgy monster period is just going great…

"F-f-friday, could you-you c-c-cool down th-the r-room, pl-please?" he sighs, sticking his face out so he can breathe. Friday answers with a yes sir, a name that's enough to bring some joy to Loki, and a low hum starts echoing, almost like a beast sleeping. For some reason, it's soothing.

She's been pretty kind, especially after she messed up the name, even though she didn't know better. No, this one wasn't on her, but on Thor, for putting it there in the first place.

But did Thor deserve getting frostbites on his throat? Or was it too cruel, too monstrous. Well, can Loki even react somehow and don't act like a beast without pretending to be something they're not?

Well, a monster can't do horrible things if you bleed it out. Loki flinches at the thought alone. No, he can't do it. Last time…

"Sir, you're not endangered anymore, please just try breathing and it will pass," Friday speaks. Loki nods, and attempts to take a deep breath in. But their lungs are crushed, refusing to work. So, he tries again and again, with more and more labour, and it hurts more each time. They do this until their lungs are on fire and their eyes watery, sounds between wheezing and sobbing coming out until they shut their mouth with their hand, their stomach clenching and turning inside them.

Then, his vision clears, only for him to see darkness, and faint dots of light here and there. The void, they're falling again. Then, he sees a purple smile, a madman's smile, right before his guts go ablaze.

They have to stop biting their hand in order to cover their mouth, struggling to swallow back as their whole body is going sick. He even feels the acid burning his throat before it stops and lets him breathe and shove the hand back in.

"Sir, you are on the Avengers tower and safe. Do you wish to go through a technique to help you through the grounding?" Friday asks, she probably has some protocol for these situations.

"Yes," Loki breathes out after a few laboured breaths, still waiting for the fire to die out.

"Could you name five things you see?" she guides. Loki frowns, failing to understand where it would help, but still listing things.

"Hand, b-b-bed, fl-floor, w-w-window, closet," they hum, waiting for the next answer.

"Four things you can hear,"

"Y-your voice, the m-machine, my heart, my br-breathing,"

"Three things you can smell,"

"Sweat, dust-dust and… lavender?" he questions after smelling the sheets. It's probably what they're washed with.

"Two things you can touch,"

"The sh-sh-sheets and…" they take their leg out only to stick it against the wall, "con-concrete"

"One thing you can taste,"

"Blood," wait, why does he taste blood? Their teeth are there, they don't have an injury, where's the blood coming from?

He inspects his hand, the one he used to bite, and finds four holes on the base of his thumb, deep blue blood oozing out. "I-I… I th-think I bit-bit m-myself," they whisper, sniffling and wiping away some tears. Was he crying?

"Indeed, sir. Tho, the injury is minor, and was not intended. Do you want me to alert someone?" she asks, to which Loki nods a no. There's no way they're letting anyone see them like this. "Then, something to eat or drink?" she doesn't sound like she'll give up easily, and she might actually alert someone, so Loki asks for some water, only to wash away the acidic feeling in his throat. Some more machines growl and a glass of water appears on the nightstand.

The thought of taking the glass and drinking it feels exhausting, and their bones feel like they are made out of lead as they take the glass to drink the water.

Next thing he knows, he's sleeping again. Falling. Burning as the huge purple lips grin and the blue eyes gleam in mad bliss. And this time, there's no Friday to ground them.

~~~~~~~

taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying

[violetwolfraven]

41 for javid would work so perfectly ahfkfjxhsga and/or 34, whichever one u want 🥺🥺🥺

I was scared to come out and ask you out because I didn’t know our entire friend group was gay but I definitely know now???

and

We broke up but I found the letters you wrote me before that and I still love you so wanna get back together? (did I copy this from one specific fic I read? Possibly.)

Ok! Buckle in your seatbelts, y’all! This is gonna be a MASSIVELY LONG THING! Also @61-flaming-sour-cherry-scones I love your url. Just getting that out there. Modern AU, btw. Also does this end in December, 2019, conveniently avoiding COVID? Possibly! :)

...

Jack didn’t mean to find that box, but in his defense, it was not hidden well. Just in the back of his closet, which he hadn’t cleaned out since... damn. Since the breakup.

And Jack was fine with said breakup, by the way. Him and Davey weren’t right together anymore.

And Jack didn’t smile less, or work himself harder as a distraction, or whatever bullshit his brothers, mom, and all his friends said.

If Davey never texted first anymore, or barely even talked when friends asked him to hang out or whatever, that was none of Jack’s business.

Jack had texted Davey exactly once since the breakup, because Elmer had told him that he had an anxiety attack in a bar, which he was only there in the first place because he was designated driver.

Davey had said he was fine, and that meant he was, right?

Davey had not mentioned anything about leaving a shoebox in Jack’s closet. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t mentioned it, ever.

Did it sting that Jack’s ex had kept a secret box of... something? from him? Maybe. Whatever the case, Jack was curious by nature, and he was definitely opening the box.

It was... letters? Sealed letters in envelopes, the earliest one on the very top, in one corner of the box. The only thing written on it was a date; September 7th, 2011.

That would be... 8th grade? Probably the first day of school? Jack was super confused. Still, he opened the letter.

Dear Jack Kelly,

I know this is terrible and corny and I’m probably going to shred this letter with the pocket knife Sarah got for our last birthday, but I had to write it down somewhere.

I think I’m gay. Specifically, gay for you. And I know that’s weird, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re like the living personification of the moon. (Not the sun. I’ve never understood why people compare their crush to the sun. Nobody likes looking directly at that.) You saw me sitting alone before school and you took me in. I mean it. You brought me over to your friend group and said I was a new kid who was going to be your friend now, and the whole group just adopted me without questioning it. All of you are so nice. At first I thought it was a trick, but then I saw you comforting Blink when he had a panic attack. (Also, I’m still getting used to the nickname thing. That’s still weird and I’m not sure how I feel about the one you gave me.) You were so gentle with him, Jack. You knew exactly how to calm him down and you were so patient with him while you helped Mush drive the fear away. I didn’t think boys our age knew how to be like that. I do now, because of you. Well, and because of Race being, well, Race. I don’t think anyone could mistake him for a bully. Or Crutchie. Or Romeo. Heck, most of your group is just so nice I can barely believe it. I think I’ll bring Saz to meet you tomorrow. She already made a friend, but she said that this girl, Katherine, said she already knows you. Maybe we can all be friends.

I really wish we could be more, but I know that would never work. I can’t tell anyone I’m gay. You’d think I’m a freak. But since you’ll never read this, I can admit it here: I have a massive crush on you, Jack Kelly.

Sincerely, David Davey

Jack was not going to let himself cry about a letter written in 8th fucking grade. He was, however, very confused about why it was in his closet.

A letter from before Davey was out of the closet found in the closet. If Jack wasn’t so goddamn depressed, he would appreciate the irony.

The next letter was dated: September 24th, 2011.

Dear Jack,

We’re all friends now. Gotta say, I already can’t imagine my life without you and the other guys. And maybe I didn’t meet Kath that first day, but she’s probably my best friend, besides you, of course. She’s the only other one with brain cells, besides maybe Specs. Us three had to talk you and the others out of riding a shopping cart Albert stole from Walmart down a hill yesterday. Honestly, would it kill you to be a little smarter? I know for a fact you can be, Jack Kelly. You and the others actually have a fair amount of brain cells each when apart. It’s only when the only group gets together that you all do stupid stuff.

I didn’t shred the first letter. I think maybe I’ll keep these and we can look back someday and laugh about me having a crush on you in middle school. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get over it before it ruins our friendship.

I honestly don’t see how I’d survive losing you, Jack. So, please, do me a favor and keep being oblivious to how I really feel about you until I digest those butterflies you give me.

Sincerely, Davey

Damn. Reading that was like a punch to the chest and Jack had to take a deep breath before moving on to the next letter.

The next few were just mundane stuff. Little notes on how Jack laughed or interacted with certain friends or whatever. The way he painted each friend something little for the holidays and how they all had a picnic potluck for Thanksgiving.

Then he got to one that was different: January 22nd, 2012. It was written in a panicked, hurried script.

Oh, damn. Jack remembered what this was about. What happened January of 8th grade.

Dear Jack,

Something’s wrong. You’re on my couch right now, crying. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re trying to put on a brave face for Les and failing miserably. Medda didn’t have time to say much when she dropped you, Crutchie, Race, and Romeo off, so all I really know is that Blink is in the hospital and she’s gonna pick up Mush before going to see him. Crutchie is trying to comfort you, by the way, but he’s crying nearly as much as you are. Race and Ro are in shock, I think. They haven’t said much. Sarah’s making them hot cocoa. I’m in my room, writing this really quick because I don’t know what I can do. You’re so good at comforting people, but I don’t know how. I wish I knew how you did it. I think I’ll go try one of the things I’ve seen you do with panic attacks. It’s got to be better than nothing.

The rest was calmer, clearly written later.

It turns out Blink is in the hospital because his dad put him there. And he wouldn’t be alive at all if he didn’t call Mush in a panic right when he heard him get home. Mush called the cops and they barely got there in time. Blink was already half-dead when they did, but they managed to keep him alive long enough to get an ambulance. God, I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if they’d been just a little bit slower.

Medda called you a couple hours ago to let us all know that Blink is in bad shape, but he’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna try to file for custody of him, but Mush’s mom is gonna try, too, just to give him twice as much chance of staying with us. His dad is in jail, but you and me agree that he deserves to die for what he did. In the selfie Blink made Mush send the group chat, there was more bandage visible on his face than skin. It made me so damn angry, but I didn’t show it because you were so angry you almost punched a hole in my wall.

I’ve made a decision, Jack. I can’t be separate from the group anymore. I always hang with Kath off to the side where we can intervene as the voices of reason if needed, but I’m not going to do that anymore, because I. can. not. do this again. I want our friends to trust me like they trust you so maybe if one of them is in a house with a dad that would beat them within an inch of their life, they’ll tell me and I can get them out.

I guess that means I’ll have to get better at lying. I’ve been staying separate mostly to hide my crush. And I think I’m pretty good at that, but being right at the center of things, with you? I’ll have to be careful to make sure no one notices. Especially not you. I hope I can pull it off.

You definitely aren’t making it easy on me, are you? You’re passed out in my bed, for heaven’s sake. But it’s fine. This is fine. I’m fine.

Sincerely, Davey

Jack remembered that night as one of the worst of his life. He’d thought Blink was dead by how Mush sounded when he called. And even though it turned out he wasn’t, he was going to be okay even if he lost an eye, after Jack’s childhood, he’d always hated when he couldn’t protect the people he loved.

Davey had been the one to reach him in that bad place he fell back to, the one where people he loved, kids he considered his little brothers, were getting hurt. Davey had pulled him out of there, and though it would take Jack months to realize it, that was the day he started to fall in love with him.

The next Monday, though, Jack had tried to give him space. Knowing how intimidating it all had to seem, he wasn’t sure if Davey would bail on them.

But he didn’t. Jack had never stopped appreciating how Davey had seen the darkness under the innocent, normal friendship and stayed anyway.

The next few letters were mostly a lot of pining on Davey’s side as he struggled to integrate himself more deeply into the group.

Jack still remembered that shift, how once Davey earned the others’ trust, Jack had gone from being the only one everyone was relying on to half of a pair that a lot of their friends had jokingly called ‘mom and dad.’

It was kind of sad, knowing that for most of them, Jack and Davey gave them more love and attention than their actual parents did, but the two of them would have to do—and they had. For a long time, the two of them were an unstoppable duo of hugs and snacks and homework help.

The letter from June 15th, 2012, had weird spots on it, almost like... almost like tear-marks. It was shorter than the previous ones.

Dear Jack,

Saz just came bouncing into my room to announce that she’s going with you to the Eighth Grade Dance.

I don’t know why I’m sad about it. I knew you and me would never be a thing.

But it still hurts, Jackie. It hurts so much.

I’m going with the rest of the group, just as friends. No one has dates except you, and I think maybe Romeo.

Jack knew for a fact that Blink and Mush had gone together because he remembered accidentally walking in on their first kiss, but apparently, Davey hadn’t known that.

Les is knocking on my door, so I’m gonna have to drop my math textbook on the floor really loudly so I can tell him I’m crying because I fell.

Sincerely, Davey

There wasn’t another letter until 4 months later, Octobe 16th, 2012.

Dear Jack,

So. Something weird just happened. Saz just came into my room and said she’s not going with you to Homecoming because you’re going with Kath. I tried to comfort her, but she didn’t seem sad about it?

She asked me if I wanted to go with anyone and seemed surprised I said I didn’t. (Not like I’m telling her a part of me wishes I could go with you.) Then she mentioned that Blink and Mush are going together, and I don’t see why she cares because if you don’t have a date why not go with a friend, right? Why do girls have to be so confusing?

Sincerely, Davey

Oh. Oh, God.

By the beginning of freshman year, Blink and Mush hadn’t been the only gay couple in their friend group.

Albert and Finch had gotten together over the summer, and so had Smalls and Sniper.

Romeo and Specs were in the ‘flirting terribly’ phase, and though Jack didn’t know it at the time, Race was already sneaking around with Spot by that point.

Ike had asked Hotshot to that Homecoming, though they wouldn’t officially become boyfriends until almost a year later, Buttons and Elmer became official at that dance, and Jojo and Mike had that falling out because of misread signals towards the end of it.

Hell, Jack only went to that dance with Kath because she couldn’t let her parents know she was actually going with Saz.

Homecoming freshman year was... eventful, to say the least.

And Davey had known exactly none of this. That... explained a lot.

Being only freshmen, none of the couples were exactly casual in their relationships. They didn’t kiss in front of people, and a few were too embarrassed to so much as sit next to each other at lunch. With the ones who weren’t embarrassed, it still honestly wasn’t much more than the affection they all already showed among friends.

God, if Jack had known how scared Davey was to come out, as he said in the next few letters, he would have... what? Told him he loved him right then and there? Probably not, but he would have done something differently.

The next really significant letter was dated December 11th 12th, 2012.

Dear Jack,

I have no idea what to think.

I’m in the bathroom right now, and it’s just after midnight on 12/12/12. You and your brothers threw a party in case the world ended with the whole friend group. It was kind of like a New Year’s party, but with a lot more cynical talk about the coming apocalypse and bet placing on what said apocalypse would be. Towards the end, we all got caught up in the drama and sleep-deprivation and started giving speeches about how much we loved each other. It was cringy, but in a good way? I’m sure we’ll laugh about it someday.

Or maybe we won’t. Because I have no idea what to think anymore.

Oh, shit. This was the part Jack was kind of dreading reading.

I’ve been terrified to come out because I thought I’d get kicked out of the group if you guys knew I was gay.

Which was why it was such a shock when the countdown to midnight ended and half my friends kissed friends of the same gender.

Jack remembered yelling at them to break it up. He’d been so busy being exasperated with his kids that he hadn’t even noticed Davey had slipped away until Crutchie pointed it out.

It was quick, so I don’t think I could name all the pairs if I tried, but I definitely saw Sarah kiss Kath, which, honestly, explains a lot.

I can’t help but wonder... Why didn’t anyone tell me? How long has this been going on? Has it been since the beginning and I was just too oblivious to see it?

Oh my God. Now that I’m looking for it, I can’t stop seeing it. The way Blink is defensive and angry all the time and he’s soft for Mush. The way Sarah hates spending time on her hair and she’ll sit for hours letting Kath try out styles on her. The way Buttons and Elmer just do little things for each other every day. None of them are subtle and I am an idiot.

Jack had to laugh at that.

Does this mean I should come out, too? I know now no one would judge me for it, but... I don’t want to mess things up. I love our friends, and I don’t want to lose them. If I lost them, now, it would be because I like you, specifically. Would you be disgusted with me if I told you?

“No,” Jack whispered, before remembering that this was 14-year-old Davey, and he wasn’t here.

I like to think you wouldn’t be, but I can’t risk it. If I lose you, I lose all of them. And if I have doubts about if I could live through losing you, I definitely can’t survive losing everyone. I love them all so much. I love you.

Jack sucked in a breath. As far as he knew, this was the first time Davey had ever said anywhere that he loved Jack.

But I can’t tell you that. So if I come out, it definitely won’t be by saying who I like.

Love, Davey

Jack totally wasn’t crying as he reached for the next letter. It was just current events, random stuff. There were certainly a lot of letters, weren’t there? Davey had documented everything, from Jack attempting to teach him to draw, to the time they both auditioned for the school play, to that time they had to talk Jojo off a ledge when he realized he loved Mike. That one was short but bad. (Honestly, Jack still hated Jojo’s super religious parents for that. Fuck Jojo’s parents.)

Davey did come out in a letter from almost six months later, but it wasn’t until Homecoming sophomore year that things started getting really interesting.

Dear Jack,

I honestly might never talk to you again outside these letters. Sarah’s banging on my door telling me to, and I’m quoting her here, “open the fuck up, David Jacobs.” Mom’s yelling back at her to watch her language. They’re now having a screamed bitching match in the hallway.

Long story short, we were at Homecoming and you asked me to dance. My brain kind of short-circuited, but I said yes right as a slow song came on. Shockingly, you didn’t seem to mind, and you danced with me to Photograph by Ed Sheeran.

Oh, God, Jack remembered that song. It had been their song. He still couldn’t listen to it anymore.

You were singing along to it and smiling at me. It was really sweet, and it was kind of my dream, to be honest, and I guess I lost all control of my body for a second because I kissed you during the last chorus and I didn’t stop kissing you until the end of the song.

Jack remembered that like it was yesterday, because it was their first kiss. It was a million perfect colors exploding across Jack’s brain and feelings he could barely identify swirling into a moment more beautiful than any painting he could ever create.

Then a faster song came on and I don’t know if anyone saw, but I really hope they didn’t because if they did that means they saw what happened next. Which is: I ran away. I ran all the way to my car and drove home and locked myself in my room. Sarah came home not 5 minutes later, so I think she knows, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how I can face you after this. In hindsight I think you were kissing me back, and if you were that means I just ran out on you and it probably hurt when I did. If not, that’s even worse because I kissed you and you probably just didn’t pull away out of pity.

Holy shit, I think you’re here, now. I can hear you outside my door with Saz, and maybe Kath, too. She’s trying to calm her down, which, honestly, good luck, Kath. Wait. No. Shit. I guess being her girlfriend has its benefits. It’s just you, now. You’re talking really softly, but I can’t understand you through the door. This is why we enunciate, Jackie.

Jack rolled his eyes on reflex.

I’m still pretty scared, but I think I’m gonna open the door. Scratch that, I’m definitely gonna open it. If you yell at me, I’ll probably yell right back. Funny, isn’t it? How I never would have done that before meeting you? If we have a huge fight, remember that you’re the one who taught me not to censor myself. David never would have even opened that door, but Davey is your monster. Good luck. I’ve out-argued you before, Jackie, so you’ll need it.

I should stop stalling and open the damn door.

If you break my heart, Jack Kelly, I’m going to kill you.

Love, Davey

Reading that last sentance, Jack froze.

If you break my heart, Jack Kelly, I’m going to kill you.

Time was a bitch, because by all accounts, they were both broken-hearted, now.

Jack wiped away his tears and realized there was a little bit more writing.

P.S. I guess you get to live, Jackie, because we had a talk and you kissed me again and now we’re together. Like, boyfriends. I can’t stop smiling. It’s stupid. I’m probably not going to sleep tonight and it’s all your fault because my stomach is full of butterflies and I can’t stop thinking about how much I love you.

Jack didn’t let himself process that, going for the next letter instead.

Oh, shit. November 1st, 2013. This was going to be a bad one. Still, Jack took a deep breath and started reading.

Dear Jack,

Well, today was emotionally draining. (Halloween was fun, but what came after definitely is not.) It’s already past midnight, but it’s okay because I’m sleeping over at your house tonight. After Saz and I explained the situation, Mom and Dad agreed we should. God, said situation it makes me so angry.

Katherine’s parents kicked her out. They found out about her and Sarah, made her pack a bag, and tossed her away like she was nothing.

She’s 16. She’s a goddamn child like the rest of us. How could they do that to her? I guess it’s good she’s out of that environment, where she has to hide who she is and walk on eggshells with every conversation, but she’s on your couch right now, crying so hard she can’t even drink the tea Medda made her. Sarah and you are trying to calm her down, but I hate seeing her like this. Kath always seems kind of unshakable, like nothing anyone says will get to her. I’ve never seen her this broken. Judging by the look you’re giving me from across the room, you haven’t, either.

You think I’m making a grocery list. Medda told me to, seeing as how she’s busy helping clean out your guest room, Saz is on ‘shoulder to cry on’ duty, and I’m the only boy who lives with a girl. Kath didn’t get to pack much more than a couple of outfits and her toothbrush.

You know what? Fuck it. You and me are her parents, now. You’re good with that, right? We’re already stand-in Mom and Dad for several of our friends—what’s one more? Ha ha, you and me have so much practice already that we are going to be great parents for real one day.

Jack sucked in a breath. Real parents? As in, the two of them staying together long enough to have kids?

Wow. That is wildly inappropriate to think about when we’re literally a couple of 15-year-olds. Also, it makes me think about how Kath is technically a few months older, but whatever. I guess I should actually make that grocery list, now, and stop daydreaming about a hypothetical future while one of our kids now is sobbing across the room from me.

Love, Davey

Davey had never even told Jack he wanted kids.

Sure, they were both a little young for that, but in the future..? Jack had always been scared that he wouldn’t be a good dad, after never having a good dad, himself, but sophomore year Davey was right. He had gotten a fair amount of practice with his friends.

That night, when Kath showed up at the Larkin house, crying so hysterically the makeup from her Halloween costume was running and saying she didn’t know where else to go, Davey was the first person Jack called. Him and Sarah had shown up not fifteen minutes later, probably having been lucky not to pick up a speeding ticket (or you know, gotten arrested for underage driving without an adult) on the way.

15-year-old Davey was right. That night was the most broken Jack had ever seen Katherine. Even if it had worked out okay in the end, with Kath staying with them and being their new sister in every way but on paper, Jack still kind of wanted to throat-punch her parents.

It was... oddly comforting, to know that Davey felt the same. He hadn’t shown it back then, knowing Kath needed him calm, but... to be honest, Jack would have feared an angry Davey Jacobs more than an angry Jack Kelly. You’d get punched by an angry Jack, but an angry Davey? He was smart enough to burn down your world. Jack smirked, thinking about how lucky the Pulitzers were that Davey possessed impulse control.

Most of the rest of the letters were just Davey talking about their relationship as it evolved or recounting whatever drama happened to be going on, (with one in the middle of junior year that was basically just ‘wtf Race is secretly dating Spot Conlon???’) because as the only group of out gays in the school, a few of whom happened to be in not-so-good homes, there was always drama.

Then came the stress of senior year, SATs, and college applications. Davey and Jack had a few fights, which were all well documented here. 17-year-old Jack and Davey hadn’t known that those fights were the beginning of the end.

The letter dated June 5th, 2016 was the one that finally made Jack cry for real .

Dear Jack,

We’re fighting again. We have before, but this time, it’s actually serious.

I get that you’re going to school in Santa Fe and I’m staying in New York. What—did you expect me to follow you all the way across the country? I’m not asking you to stay, because that wouldn’t be fair of me. You’ve got dreams and a scholarship to an art school and that is great. I’m happy for you. But I’m not going with you, because why would I? I’ve got dreams, too. Did you think I would put my life on hold for you?

We can’t stay kids forever, Jackie. Growing up means things change. I thought you knew that. Our friends are spreading out across the country and most of the couples aren’t going to be in the same state. Hell, Specs is going to Harvard in Massachusetts and Romeo is moving to Hollywood to go try his luck and they’re not having problems. If your own brother can do the long-distance thing, why can’t you?

I’m scared, too. I don’t want to lose you, either. I know doing a long-distance thing won’t be easy, but when was the last time either of us gave up just because it was hard? Jackie, if I wanted something easy, I would have bailed after we almost lost Blink. My love for you aside, I didn’t because that’s. not. me. I fight for what I love. And I know you do, too, so... so fight for me. I need to know you love me enough to fight for me, Jackie.

I know you. When you want something—really want it, there is not a force in this world that can stop you from fighting for it. I love you, Jack Kelly. I’m not going to stop fighting for you, so please don’t stop fighting for me.

Love, Davey

Jack choked on a sob. He’d failed. Davey had asked him to fight for him and he failed.

Sure, he hadn’t known that Davey wanted him to fight for him, but... God, if he had...

Jack would have fought, would have walked through hell, would have done anything to keep Davey by his side.

He still loved Davey, no matter what he’d been telling himself since the breakup, and... And he needed to read the rest of these letters. Even if Davey started hating him when the fighting got really bad or wrote about what he was feeling during it.

Shit. There weren’t that many more. The remaining letters were spread out somewhere between high school graduation and when Jack and Davey broke up; a year and a half ago, and... and those would probably be the hardest ones to read

Jack waited a bit until the tears had stopped before opening the one from November 20th, 2016.

Dear Jack,

I haven’t wrote one of these in a while. College has been a bitch, but also...

You and me barely talk anymore. We text each other memes about once a week, (don’t worry. you still know exactly how to make me laugh with those dumb little shitposts.) but we don’t really talk. I can’t remember the last time we FaceTimed. I miss you, but I don’t know how to say it anymore.

I’m thinking about this because it’s Thanksgiving break. Of course, it’s good to see everyone. Kath got home this morning. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her. Elmer texted me a couple minutes ago that he’s an hour away. Of course that dumbass is driving all the way from Michigan. I’m sure we’ll both have more than enough words for him when you get back because you’re flying in tonight.

I don’t know how I feel about that. I should be excited, but... I don’t think I’ve been this nervous about anything involving you since I ran away after our first kiss. I think I preferred it last year, when we were fighting, because even when we were pissed at each other, at least we were communicating.

You remember when we were kids and you always knew exactly what to say exactly when someone needed to hear it? How you helped calm down Kath when she got kicked out, talked Jojo off a roof, and convinced Spot to tell Race he loved him? It was amazing. I never quite mastered that. I usually know what to do, just never how to voice it. But this time, I don’t even know what to do. We’re not on the same page anymore. I don’t think we’re even in the same book.

Jack took a shaky breath. He and Davey hadn’t been on the same page. And Jack definitely hadn’t known what to say to him, either. They weren’t the unstoppable duo they’d been in high school.

But... damn. Those things Davey had mentioned him doing? He couldn’t have done those alone. For all of those, he had needed Davey there, helping him. Maybe that was why it was so hard, being there for anyone since the breakup.

I hate how five years of being an unstoppable duo can be undone in only four months, and it wasn’t even by fighting. If it was a fight, we could solve it, you and me vs. the problem. But there’s no fight, no problem. It’s just you and me and the growing chasm between us.

You know what? It’s probably just the distance messing with us. We’ll be fine. We just need some time together. Thanksgiving will be good for us. And I’m flying out to Santa Fe for the winter holidays to spend it with you, so that’ll be good, too.

I’m gonna text you right now. Your flight probably won’t be leaving for another hour or so, so we can talk. Get back in rhythm.

I still don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll just ask about how hot Santa Fe is in winter and we can go from there. Here’s hoping this makes things get less awkward.

Love, Davey

Jack remembered that text conversation with Davey in the airport. He remembered how much hope it had given him, and how after Jack went back to Santa Fe when the holiday was over, how much better Davey and him had been. That Christmas/Hanukkah had been great, especially considering most of Jack’s classmates were at home and they’d had the dorm to themselves.

Of course their friends and families had known that was why Jack didn’t come home that year, and he distinctly remembered getting texts from all three of his brothers on Christmas morning asking if Davey was good in bed, but that was besides the point.

The next several letters were from their second wind, the rest of the school year. And yeah, they were hard to read, but they brought back happy memories. Even only seeing each other over breaks and computer screens, it seemed that Davey was happy, too. For a while, it had seemed that Jack could have his dreams of art school in Santa Fe and the love of his life.

Then, of course, during that summer of staying together at whichever house more often than not, they started fighting again. Over nothing. Over stupid things. Over who loaded the dishwasher wrong and who said he was going to pick Les up from his friend’s house.

Then they started fighting over big things. Over harsh words Jack never meant and judging by these letters, Davey didn’t meant, either.

August 2nd, 2017:

Dear Jack,

I fucked up. We just had a big fight, I said a bunch of things I didn’t mean, and like an idiot, I let you leave for the airport without apologizing. Now, you’re acting like your phone is already on airplane mode even though I know for a fact your flight doesn’t leave for another hour. Also, I can see that you’ve read all of my texts, you moron, so I know you’re just ignoring me.

Aw, hell, I don’t even blame you. I said some really bad things. I said you love your art more than me, and I know that’s not true. I know you’d never prioritize material things over the people you love, because Jackie, you prioritize those people who have earned your loyalty over everything, including your own mental and physical health. I know because it annoys the hell out of me, how you never give yourself a break. They’re all adults now, Jackie. They don’t need us as much anymore and you never stop acting like they do.

I shouldn’t be angry with you for that. I know with your childhood, trying to protect Crutchie, Race, and Romeo and sometimes failing, you still feel like you have to save everyone. It’s how you’re wired and I love that about you. I wouldn’t change it if I could. I just wish you’d stop running yourself into the ground to do it.

Is this it? I already feel like we’re on borrowed time, here. Sarah says she thought we were going to break up last year. Kath says she’s sure it’s not that bad. (they’re talking about it very loudly in the hallway. or maybe they’re arguing. who knows?) Les just said that my mom said nobody marries their high school sweetheart. (thanks, Mom.)

I think even if we never said it, that’s what we were both hoping for. I know you, Jackie. I’ve watched your favorite romcoms and Disney movies. I know you want the perfect fairytale relationship with the whole package of ‘and they get married and have kids and live happily ever after.’ And I want that, too. I really wanted it with you. Ugh! I still want it with you! I can’t imagine any alternate universe where I don’t want that with you!

It’s probably inappropriate to think about all that. We’re nineteen. We’re not even old enough to drink yet and we’re definitely too young for me to be thinking about marrying you.

Jack inhaled sharply. Oh, God. He was going to cry again.

But for the record... I do want to. I want everything with you and I cannot imagine any circumstance, any extreme, any bad breakup where I stop wanting that.

Just to be safe, though, in case something I can’t foresee happens and I never say it again...

I love you, Jack Kelly. I have loved you from the first day I met you and I can’t see anything happening in any version of reality that makes me stop loving you. You’re still like the living personification of the moon to me and no matter how much you piss me off, Jackie, your glow doesn’t fade. You shined a light on the parts of me afraid of judgement and taught me to shine, too, despite them.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I probably never will. I just need you to know that.

Love, Davey

Jack was already crying, but he panicked as he realized there was only two more letters.

A part of him wanted to wait. These were words Davey hadn’t spoken to him. These were the last pieces of Davey that were still Jack’s.

But he needed to know. Were these letters from before they actually broke up? After? Had Davey been wrong in the previous letter and he’d stoped loving Jack?

There were no dates on the envelopes. Still, Jack had to know. He took a deep breath and opened the second-to-last one, the paper covered in old, dried tear marks.

Dear Jack,

We had another stupid fight and we tried to fix it but that just ended in more yelling. That’s happened a few times before, now, but this time, it was different.

Oh, no. This must be from the big one Spring Break of their sophomore year of college.

Jack had come home for the break, it had been great to see his friends, but then he and Davey had started fighting. Like, really fighting. Worse than they ever had before.

And then there was the big one. It was two days before Jack flew back to Santa Fe. It was the one where they actually broke up.

This time, you told me to leave. And I kind of yelled at you to just go back to Santa Fe as you shoved me out the door. Then you yelled that if I wanted you to fly away so badly, I shouldn’t bother visiting again and you slammed the door in my face.

I think we just broke up. I’d be angry about it if I wasn’t so damn sad.

God, this is messed up. I know you’re alone on your bed with those stupid Star Wars sheets you’ve had since you were twelve and you locked the door because you don’t want anyone to see you cry. Thinking about that makes me want to run right back there and say I’m sorry.

I wanted to do that the second I got back to my parents’ house, but they convinced me not to. Sarah yelled at them for it. She said I had to make my own decision. They said I’m too emotional to think clearly. They’re right, of course, which is why I’m here writing this and not on my way back to your mom’s house already.

Now, Les is the only one outside my door. Are Crutchie, Race, Romeo, or Kath outside yours? Les is trying to guilt me into opening the door by telling me he cancelled a date for me. I’m not weirded out at all by the fact that my baby brother has way more game than I did when I was fourteen.

Are we really done, Jackie? For good? I keep waiting to hear you out in the hallway. And probably Kath, because she’s a better driver than you. I can’t keep thinking about this. I’m just gonna to go to sleep.

Davey

Jack wiped his eyes furiously. There was one more letter and he needed to read it, consequences be damned.

This last letter was probably from when Davey cooled down. Maybe the next morning or something. If he didn’t hate Jack while he was emotional and raw from the initial breakup, he might in this letter. But Jack opened it, anyway.

My Dearest Jack,

We really are broken up. You haven’t called me, but I got a very angry text-rant from Crutchie (for which he apologized 10 minutes later) which basically boiled down to him saying I broke your heart. Romeo called me, said ‘dude, not cool,’ then hung up. Race and Medda seem to be trying to see both sides, and though Kath did tell me that the last few months have been like ‘listening to mom and dad fight downstairs,’ she’s not offering any advice. I think she and Sarah are waiting for me to come to them.

I’m so sorry, Jackie. I know this is mostly my fault. Still, I can’t make the first move. Don’t forget: I know you. You’re more concerned with other people’s feelings than yours, so if I ask you to take me back and you do it, I can’t be sure you didn’t just do it for me. If we ever get back together, it has to be because you want it, too. However, I know you won’t even consider we could get back together unless I give you a sign, which is why I’m leaving you my letters.

You went back to Santa Fe two weeks ago and I’m finally stable enough to come get my stuff from your house and drop off what little you left in my room. While I’m there, I’m gonna hide this somewhere. I guess we’ll both have to pray no one else in your family finds it. That would be awkward.

When you find this, I want you to think long and hard about what you want, Jackie. I want you to make a decision for you. Goddammit, think about yourself first for once.

If you fight for me, I want you to do it because it’s what you really want. That fairytale romcom ending with me is still yours if you play your cards right. (Don’t think I forgot all the hurtful things you said to me, even if I’m 70% sure you didn’t mean them.) It might take... I dunno, therapy or something, but I still think we can fix this. It won’t be easy, but neither is love. Neither is our entire messed-up, broken group of friends.

I used to think I’d lose all of them if I lost you. Maybe I would have, if I’d messed up like this in 8th grade. But now, I know I won’t, because they’re all blowing up my phone as much as I’m sure they’re blowing up yours, asking if I’m okay. I see now that they need me as much as I need them. And they still need you, too, even if you do need to accept a little more that we’re all grown-ups now.

Where was I going with this? I had a point.

I guess all there’s left to say is that if you still want that perfect ending with me—getting married and having kids and having them call all our friends ‘auntie’ and ‘uncle’—fight for it. Loving someone the way I’m in love with you doesn’t happen twice, so I’m not going anywhere. You know where to find me.

You probably won’t find this for a while. Hell, you’re not even coming home again until summer break. But that’s probably a good thing. It gives us both some time to cool off and think.

So think, Jackie. Think long and hard and make a choice. Fight for me or don’t. In case I never get a chance to say it in person again...

I love you, Jack Kelly.

Love, Davey

Oh shit.

Davey left this in Jack’s closet a year and a half ago. He’d probably expected Jack to find it that summer. In fact, he probably thought Jack had found it and just decided not to fight for him.

Jack still wanted to fight for him. He had no doubts about that.

But did his have to discover this box now? When he was leaving for Santa Fe to finish his senior year tomorrow?

Fuck it. Even if it had been almost two years, even if there was a high chance Davey wasn’t waiting for him anymore, he still had to do this

Driving to the Jacobs house right then and there was probably the stupidest thing Jack had ever done, and that was including riding that Walmart shopping cart Albert stole down a hill in 8th grade with Race, Romeo, and Albert when Davey, Kath, and Specs weren’t there to stop them.

Sarah was the one who opened the door, and she... Jack hadn’t talked to Saz since the breakup, since she’d been staying mad at him out of solidarity. Honestly, he was now realizing that he’d missed her nearly as much as he’d missed Davey. They’d been good friends, once upon a time.

Now, she glared at him, “The fuck are you doing here, Kelly?”

“I...” Jack honestly couldn’t think of a good way to explain this, “Is he home?”

Sarah snorted, “What? After a year and a half, you’ve finally come to your senses and realized you’ll never find another one like my brother?”

“I never planned on anyone like him in the first place,” Jack snapped, “Davey was always... even back in middle school... You think I’d ever believe I could find someone else like that? I’m dumb, Saz, but I ain’t stupid. I always knew I was givin’ up on forever when I didn’t try to get him back, but... but I thought he didn’t want me anymore.”

Sarah froze, then leaned against the doorframe, laughing kind of hopelessly, “You are stupid, Jack Kelly, if you think my brother wasn’t totally gone for you and totally broken-hearted when you didn’t try to fight for him.”

Jack definitely had an oh shit moment, “Wait, do you know? About the..?”

“The box of letters he left you? Yeah. He told me last year, after you left for junior year without coming for him.”

Jack took the last letter out of his pocket, “I just found it.”

Saz took a second to process that before motioning for Jack to come in, shouting up the stairs, “Davey! Get your butt down here!”

Les, sitting at the kitchen table, looked up from his sandwich, “Holy shit. Jack?”

“Hi, kid,” Jack said, trying not to be weirded out by how the now-16-year-old was taller than him.

“Davey?” Sarah yelled again, clearly impatient.

“Alright, alright! God, Saz, what couldn’t wait 10 se—“ That was when Davey looked up, seeing Jack in his kitchen.

“That couldn’t wait,” Sarah said pointedly, “Les, let’s go... not be here.”

“If I eat in my room, Mom’ll kill me,” Les said, picking up his sandwich, anyway.

“Eat in my room, then.”

Jack and Davey were silent until the other two Jacobs siblings were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Jack?”

Jack had to take a deep breath before he responded, “When was the last time you went somewhere besides school if somebody didn’t drag you out of the house?”

“What?”

“Do the people who love you say you’ve changed? Do they keep saying they need a designated driver only to try to get you drinking and dancing like it’ll make you smile?”

“What are you—“

“Are there songs you can’t listen to? Movies you can’t watch? Have you so much as called someone back when they gave you their number?”

“Jack,” Davey looked at the ceiling, “What’s this about?”

“You once said you wouldn’t put your life on hold for me,” Jack said, “And you were right not to. I can be overprotective, sometimes. No one should put their dreams on hold because of a lover, but... my dreams are the only thing I haven’t put on hold, Dave. I ain’t been living since I lost you. Not really. And when our friends all said I was smilin’ less, I never let myself think about it, because if I did, I’d have to think about how much I was still hurtin’ over you.”

Davey laughed sady, “Jack, if you really wanted me, you would have fought for me a long time ago, so—“

“You’re talkin’ about the letters?” Jack asked, holding up the one he had on him, “Davey... I just found them. Today.”

Davey was silent, his face completely unreadable. Jack was holding his breath.

“Jack Kelly,” he finally smiled, “I should have known you would take this long to clean out your damn closet.”

“I think you spent enough time in the closet for the both of us.” Jack joked.

Davey rolled his eyes, “Very funny, Jackie. Anyway... I don’t think it’s any secret that we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“Of course not.”

“So... coffee? If we’re trying again, I’d prefer to take things slow.”

Jack nodded, “Probably a good thing I’m going back to Santa Fe after tomorrow. That ain’t enough time for us to do something we’ll regret.”

“Yeah, I guess mostly just texting is one way to take it slow... speaking of which, one of us should probably text the group chat.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack grinned, “They’re gonna freak.”

[zabrak-show]

Blood of the Sith

Summary:

Kudra Deschain is a young pilot working for a trade company out of Coruscant. Her next trade route to Mustafar, ends up being a fiery life changing revelation to the dark side of the force, where she meets Maul, a Sith apprentice to Darth Sidious.

Notes:

This is pre phantom menace, by like maybe a couple years. I had fun writing this, but it's just for fun so hopefully no one takes this too seriously and gets mad at me for depicting Maul in a way they don't like, or not having some other random spec incorrect. I wanted to show a softer side to Maul. Probably NSFW, but there's nothing that graphic as I am a secret prude.

A huge thank you to my fiance for helping me out with some of the technical aspects as well as the story writing. And thank you to all my friends who have not only put up with me talking about my dumb Maul story for the past few months while I slowly chipped away at it, but encouraged me to continue. Sorry it’s such a slow burn, please hang in there I swear Maul shows up soon lol!!

7 chapters all together. 12.7k words (total for all 7 chapters combined)

Chapter 1

The metal floor plates quietly vibrated as the YT-1000 entered the Coruscant atmosphere. The pilots were a young woman with pale skin and long black hair, and a young male twi’lek with orange skin. They wore similar black jumpsuits and even seated at the helm it was obvious the twi’lek would tower over the woman.

“So Kudra, what are you planning to get yourself into now that we’re back from that mess?” The twi’lek asked with a smirk.

“Mess?” She replied, dodging the question, “I had everything under control the whole time.”

A green and gold astromech droid wheeled in to beep his counter and the twi’lek laughed and asked, “Your droid really loves to call you out. Why do you still keep that old thing around?”

Kudra busied herself with checking all the landing sensors and grumbled back, “That droid has proven useful on every run we’ve done. Plus, I like her sarcastic attitude.” She was cautious to not make it obvious the droid was her only friend and constant in her life the last 10 years.

“Have you set up the meeting then with Krass? After we land I won’t have much time to…”

“Yes Kudra,” The twi’lek cut her off and she shot an icy glare his way, “Krass will be ready and waiting for us so you can go off on your secret missions or whatever it is you do.”

Kudra sat in silence while they came into the landing bay. Why did he always get so mad she didn’t want to hang out with the team after a job? They just spent 2 weeks on this crusty cargo ship together. They both deserved to do whatever they wanted on their own.

As promised, Krass was there waiting for them, once they got off their ship. He was a tall weequay with leathery brown skin and knotted blonde hair. He always tried to look higher class than he was, which made him look tacky in Kudra’s opinion. He wore his usual worn out and dated long red leather coat with tarnished brass buttons and knee high black boots over canvas pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb on the landing bay amongst the muted flight suits of most everyone else.

Krass and the twi’lek discussed unloading the cargo and routine maintenance with the landing crew while Kudra checked in on L0-K1.

“Make sure these maintenance droids don’t mess anything up while I’m gone.” She said as she stooped down to wipe grease from the droid’s arm. L0 beeped and wheeled away.

Kudra stood in the back against the wall of Krass’ small, now crowded office. The whole team was probably over 40 people, but he only held the meetings for pilots, engineers, and copilots so 13 of them all together. A low hum of conversations between everyone enveloped the room until Krass spoke up to start the meeting. The room quieted and he gave his usual fanfare speech while explaining everyone’s next jobs. A sinking feeling hit Kudra in the gut as she realized her name hadn’t been called. She could not afford any time off right now, and as far as she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong lately. As it seemed like the meeting was wrapping up, Krass remembered her, “Ah yes Kudra, I haven’t forgotten you. You’ll be taking the Z95 to the outer rim for a small but important job.”

Kudra nodded her head, “Yes, Sir.”

Slowly, everyone filed out of the room and Krass caught her arm as she neared the door.

“Listen,I know you just got back, but if you can leave right away, it’d be a huge help. I’d consider your ship, the YT1000, paid in full after the job got done. If you do it right of course.” He finished sternly now forcibly grabbing the top of her shoulder.

“Sure,” Kudra responded coolly, “I can leave as soon as the ship’s ready. What’s the mission?”

He loosened his grip, “Top secret.” he stared into her green eyes as if to search for a reason he might be wrong about sending her on this mission, finally removing his hand from her shoulder and looking away.

“You’ll be going to Mustafar to trade with a mining collective there. In and out, easy peasy. It’s hotter than blazes there and not like some desert planet. It’s covered in lava so pick up some protective clothing, ‘fore you head out. I’ve already deposited more than enough credits for ya to prepare. Any questions?”

Kudra thought for a moment, “Naw, just load the information onto L0 about which landing bay to aim for and who the point of contact will be. Thanks for trusting me captain, I won’t let you down.” The weequay sprung to life suddenly and patted Kudra so hard on her back it made her cough. “Enjoy your night and I’ll let you know when the ship’s ready.”

Kudra pulled the covers up around her, pulling it off the naked sleeping man next to her in bed. She quietly packed her bags and got dressed. She debated on waking him up, and tripped over an Alderaanian wine bottle, spinning it across the floor and making a loud clank against a metal chair leg. Well, I guess that’ll wake him, she figured. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was really quite handsome, dark brown skin and curly brown hair with scruffy facial hair like he’d forgotten to shave.

“Hi gorgeous, are you leaving already?” he looked up at her from the bed.

“Yes,” Kudra responded plainly. “Apologies for waking you.” She started to pick up his clothes to hand him and he grabbed her for a kiss, causing her to lose her balance and fall into him, kissing him deeply and forgetting herself for a moment.

“I’m sorry” she said, pulling away, “this was fun. I do need to get going though.”

“Right,” he shrugged her off and got dressed in awkward silence.

Kudra made it to the ship bay just in time. Krass was waiting with L0.

“Ok, you’re all set with coordinates.”

“Great, thanks Krass,” she started to crawl up the boarding ladder.

“Kudra, wait.” She stopped and turned her head toward him.

“I didn’t mention it earlier, but” he paused to look around them as he handed her a small black velvet pouch, “this is very important and very secretive. Never take it off your person, until you meet your point of contact. It’s worth your very life.” He stuffed the bag in her hand and didn’t let go for a moment.

“So what, is this the actual cargo?” she looked at him skeptically.

“You could say that. Don’t let it into the wrong hands. It’s imperative it gets to our contact person.” he shook his hand holding hers and the pouch.

“Ok, I’ll make sure your old “friend” gets their prize.” she joked with a wink.

“Please, Kudra. This isn’t a joke. No funny business with the clientele this time. You won’t always have someone like me to get you out of your lovelorn messes.”

Kudra’s cheeks burned red hot and her heart raced. How dare he treat her like this, like some mischievous star crossed lover. She covered the anger up with her voice keeping it as cool sounding as she could, “Of course. In and out, business as usual.” She turned to crawl back up the ladder, and Krass was still standing there and yelled after her, “No. NOT business as usual! Professional this time please!” Kudra kept climbing, “Yup you got it Captain. You know I always get the job done one way or another.” She and L0 boarded the Z95 at last. She tied the bag to her belt and got ready for take off.

“What’s the worst that could happen, L0?” she asked the droid as they exited the Coruscant atmosphere. L0 responded, likely with an actual answer to the worst things that could happen and Kudra laughed.

After about an hour into their journey, Kudra remembered the weird encounter with Krass before they left. She opened the pouch to see what was so important inside. L0, beeped her opposition.

“Chill out, L0, I’m just seeing what it is that is so important. I’ll put them right back in the pouch.” She dumped the pouch contents into her palm. Two pyramid shaped, black and gold objects fell into her hand. She noticed there was some type of inscription on the sides of the pyramids. Somehow they felt heavier outside of the bag than inside of it.

“Wow, what do you think these are? Some kind of puzzle?” she asked L0 and the droid screeched a response.

“Ha ha yeah, I suppose my life should be worth more than a couple puzzles.” She slipped them back into the bag and tied it to her waist again.

“Alright, L0, we’re getting close. Narrow in on our coordinates before we get out of hyperspace.”

Kudra tied her long black hair back, revealing a portion of her head shaved and a tattoo of a convor. The ship came out of hyperspace near Mustafar, but in the middle of an electrical storm. The ship controls went erratic and every sensor that could beep started beeping.

“Woah, L0 what the hell is going on? I can barely get into a landing pattern.” Kudra weaved in and out with the barely working steering controls, trying to avoid the erratic lightning happening all around them.

“Why does this shit only ever happen in the outer rim?!” She was desperately trying everything as they started to enter the atmosphere, “L0 please fix our navigation plot, I can’t see anything!” L0 chirped, but the ship was struck by lightning, flickering their main power and everything went dark, the controls went dead.

“That can’t be good! I’ve gotta land L0, find me something to land on, find a way to SLOW us down.” Another lightning strike on the ship and power flickered on for a moment. Enough for Kudra to take some controls and slow the ship down. Everything happened so fast and she was doing everything not to panic and to just focus to try and find any type of solution. She had to use all her strength to try and guide the ship with what little power they had. All Kudra could see was lava. “Is there anything NOT lava on this dumb planet??” she screamed and L0 screamed back at her. She found a landing, but they were coming in way too hot. It was the best they could hope for, so she made the descent.

The initial impact onto the scorched ground completely obliterated one of the wings and most of the rest of the ship was torn up beyond recognition. They were sliding and spinning out of control until finally a bed of lava stopped the ship. What was left of the back of the ship was up in flames as the lava ate away at them. No time to think other than “escape” Kudra began kicking the canopy to try and free both of them. She was running on pure adrenaline as she could feel the ship slipping further and further into the lava, the flames getting hotter and hotter. It started to feel hopeless, so Kudra took a moment to focus every part of her on getting out of the burning ship. A deep breath in, eyes shut, and a strong kick thrusted the canopy off the ship and Kudra jumped out and fell onto the burnt ground. L0 flew out after her with a shriek and an ungraceful tumble next to her sounding like an empty can.

“Woah, L0, you look like shit.” Kudra coughed out, while starting to stand. L0 wheezed a response

“I know, I feel like shit too. Thankfully I have these ugly threads to keep me cool.” she looked down at the black and dark green thick formless robes draped over herself and then back at the ship melting and burning into the lava pool as she lowered her goggles over her eyes. The reality hit her again, and she realized how bad this was. The ship was gone. They were in the middle of nowhere on a lava covered planet. The ship let out a final death rattle as the lava engulfed it entirely and Kudra fell to her knees. Well, this was maybe the worst that could happen.

They started walking, with no real apparent plan other than to maybe find somewhere that wasn’t covered in lava.

“Do we even know how to get to the mining collective from here? What was the contact person’s name?”

L0 chirped the answer.

“Ok, I am choosing to ignore the distance we are from them, but Uane’s the name so we got that.” Kudra sighed deeply. She was too exhausted to keep up any sort of positive charade.

“We need to get out of this heat. Let’s see if we can find a cave over in those cliffs.” Kudra pointed off into the distance a series of cliffs that normally probably wouldn’t take longer than 20 minutes to walk to, but in this heat it was hard to say.

L0 beeped conversationally.

“Listen, I realize if I had taken Krass up on his original offer years ago, I’d be unhappily married but with a ship. And not here. That much I realize. What’s your point?”

Another prodding chirp from L0.

“Settle down? With Krass? Are you out of your mind? I do just fine on my own without looking after some useless old person all the time. This heat is really melting your brain, L0.”

L0 continued prodding Kudra with past mistakes she had made. Kudra wished she could punch a droid and have it do anything other than hurt her own hand.

“L0, what is your deal? We’ve been over this. Why are you always bringing up that deal on Corellia? The whole thing worked out a lot better, actually BECAUSE of me.”

L0 whirred in disbelief.

“Yes I stabbed Crix Harend! As you’ll remember he attacked me. At the time, I had no idea that was his wife in my bed.”

The droid buzzed on about this Correllian from Kudra’s past.

“I actually don’t think Crix ever found out about me and his brother. Anyway that was so long ago. Why can’t you let it go? We still managed to trade our cargo with them in the end.”

L0 wasn’t letting it go and starting to get on Kudra’s last nerve.

“Yes, because I slept with Crix too. What is with you right now?” She screamed at the droid.

They walked on and on in mostly silence now as Kudra was mad at L0 and also too exhausted and shell shocked to make commentary. As thankful as she was to have been warned about the heat and having the right clothing for this planet, something told her they weren’t meant for all day frolicking in the lush lava fields.

Mustafar felt like hell. Every breath was fire on Kudra’s lungs, every step reminded her of all the pain, mostly physical, but her mental game wasn’t so strong right now either. She trudged on and on, L0 whirring quietly behind her. At last, they found a cave to hide in. It wound pretty far back through some tunnels, but that was good. The further in they went the cooler and darker it got. L0 lit up the cave with a small flashlight attachment as Kudra made a makeshift pillow and blanket with her capes and passed out.

Next chapter

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 4

Chapter title: Flutter

A/n: I swear every time I try to write something serious I just end up writing Family!Patton... I’m so sorry. But also I love the idea of Remus and Logan being friends so here...

First | Previous | Next

words: 3055

summary: The group must figure out what to do about the new allegations

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, platonic demus

warnings: Murder mention, child murder

Ao3 Link

Logan hates reporters. He had hated them ever since his first headlining case. He hates their need for gossip, for something more than what is just simply facts. Lawyers might be sharks but they were piranhas so desperate for a bite of anything mildly interesting. Preying on the innocent so hungry, acting starved. Unfortunately today, they had preyed upon the wrong person. Logan glares at the crowd surrounding the court as he pushes through followed by a very nervous Reeve. He turns his focus to the sudden outburst of clamoring reporters rushing over to another area. Logan, being quite tall, peers over the crowd immediately feeling a glare take shape upon his face. He decides a more aggressive approach will work better through the crowd, so he does just that. He finally reaches the front of the crowd stepping in front of a very pale looking Patton. He stares at Logan with absolute fear, his eyes pleading. Logan nods and turns to the crowd. The piranhas instantly pounce on him, bombarding him with questions of their own.

“How do you feel about the allegations?”

Allegations?

“Will the case be delayed now?”

No? Why would it?

“Will there still be a case?”

Of cour-

“Do you believe the client is guilty?”

Yes, I do-

“Do you trust Mr.Hart's decision to defend a murderer, nonetheless a child murderer?” A woman asks, pushing herself to the front, eyes wide with curiosity. Logan feels his shoulders tense. A tight feeling locks his mouth. 

Oh

Logan turns to Patton who looks like he might shatter at any moment. He wants to take the lawyer, and push everyone away. He feels this overwhelming need to just… He turns back to the group determined.

“No comment, from any of us” He glares at the group, scaring them back. He turns back to Patton, now noticing Romans presence. They share a silent look, nodding and lead the terrified lawyer away from the public eye. Logan glances back seeing the particular reporter talking to a camera. He answers her question.  

I trust him with everything 

~~~

“Absolutely not!” Logan says firmly, deciding this argument was pointless. “That is a preposterous idea” He sighs rubbing his temples, pacing the lawyer's office. Patton doesn't meet his eyes, keeping his balance leaning on his desk. Roman returns after a moment to which Patton perks up.

“They are both safe and secure with Lia” He informs, Patton, lets out a sigh of relief “They're watching a puppet show happily, P, they're ok” He reassures the nervous father who nods thankfully. Roman turns to Logan, who had stopped pacing to listen to the news “Now what are you two squabbling about?” Logan looks restlessly over at Patton who now has a much more determined look upon his face. Logan is taken aback, almost impressed. 

“I want to re-interrogate my client” Patton declares “I wa-”

“Absolutely not dude” A fourth voice joins the mix, the three men turn to face the now open door. Virgil stands in uniform, badge hanging around his neck. He murmurs something quietly to a man behind him before stepping into the room and closing the door. “Pat, I'm sorry but I agree with specs over here” Logan doesn't know whether to be offended or grateful. The three men turn to Patton. Virgil makes his way over to the desk handing Patton a case file, Logan's intrigue peaks. Patton takes it skimming quickly before handing it back to Virgil. 

“Alright...alright,” He says, he eyes Virgil curiously before turning to his friend “Are you ok Virge?” Roman and Logan share a glance, surely nothing should have alerted Patton. Virgil exhales before looking up at Patton. 

“Yeah...yeah,” He says, Patton doesn't push but looks doubtful “Nothing… there's just a lot happening. Damian's sick, a child murderer…” Virgil trails off, he shakes his head once more “Doesn't matter, look all I am saying is you cannot see your client, I'm sorry” Patton nods reassuringly, he offers Virgil a supportive pat(ton) on the back. Virgil accepts.

“It's ok” He exhales sharply before turning to Roman “I'm going to go check on the twins” Roman goes to speak but Patton speaks quickly “I know you said they're ok, but I just really need to see them” Roman nods sympathetically. Unexpectedly, Logan speaks up.

“I will accompany you there” Logan offers much to the surprise of the others, he looks around “There are some things I wish to discuss with Patton” He explains, Patton nods trying to hide a knowing smile. Logan examines his face. Patton rolls his eyes before making his way to the door. He opens it but quickly turns to Virgil and Roman.

“Virge, let me know if you find anything else. Ro, I would delay the case for now” Both men nod and Logan and Patton make their way towards the daycare. 

~~~

“Alright enough already!” Remy hollered over the pushy crowd of nosy reporters. They quickly quiet hoping the one angry detective that had shouted had new information. Virgil and Roman approach from the hall. Remy huffs staring the reporters down, they back away remaining silent. Virgil chuckles at his antics, Remy could be quite the diva when needed. 

“Nice one” Virgil comments, Remy shrugs “So what do we do now?” Remy looks back at the crowd of quiet reporters than back at Virgil.

“We gotta make a statement to quiet them or we gotta send them off,” Remy says. Virgil groans annoyed much to Remy's amusement. He pats his partner's shoulder, something very few are allowed to do. “I got it, you just go figure out what the hell happened” Virgil nods but Remy continues “And don't forget to check up on Damian” Virgil smiles before nudging his partner and turning away from the crowd. Roman follows. 

“How is the Lil guy doing?” Roman asks politely accompanying Virgil. The pair make their way towards reception. 

“He's doing better, last I checked he is sleeping at the precinct under very good care” Virgil informs fidgeting with the end of his jacket. “And by very good care I mean Emile is showering him with love and affection so…” Virgil shrugs, a small chuckle escapes Romans's mouth. The men arrive at the desk greeted by a very excited Jenny who quickly helps Virgil out. “Well, I have to go interrogate a certain murderer” Virgil comments finally as they walk towards the door. 

“You really think he did it?” Roman asks, his tone taking a more solemn approach. Virgil raises a brow before looking at Roman.

“Do you?” He pries turning the table on the judge. “Because I don't know, at first yes I did. But I have seen Patton's notes, his case, everything… look he can be a big softie but he's...incredibly smart. I have never seen him once misread a client…” Roman nods sharing the same sentiment. “Guess I'll see today” He shrugs looking out towards the parking lot “I should go…” He turns to open the door but glances back towards the judge. “Thanks for your help with Damian…” He comments. Roman beams before Virgil walks out towards his car, waving goodbye to the prideful judge. 

~~~

Logan and Patton walk in silence down the court's halls. The walls grow thick as the building settles from the previous chaos. The pair watch as slowly reporters make their way out of the building leaving no trace. Reporters will come up to Patton looking for a comment, or to Logan but it dies down quickly. Finally, after reaching a more secluded hallway, Logan finds it in him to speak up. He stops in his tracks and carefully puts an arm on Patton causing him to stop as well. Patton looks up curiously, the sweet innocence returning to his eyes.  

“Lo?” He asks softly, Logan purses his lips as the opposing lawyer looks up at him. 

“Patton, I am concerned” Logan adjusted his glasses, Patton tilts his head slightly confused. Logan sighs trying to find the right words. “I am concerned because I believe based on everything we have both discovered about the case, that you are making the wrong decision” Logan stops “Not the wrong decision, I simply mean that I believe-”

“You think I’m defending a murderer” Patton interjects “Right?” His tone remains calm and sweet. 

“Yes” Logan says simply. Patton’s smile grows but something sits wrong. “I believe in this instance that you are wrong Patton” Patton pouts, slightly annoyed “The evidence is too great, emotions, as you so depend on, do not outrank this fact” Logan says firmly, “I believe that you should resign the case, apply for another defendant to take over or discuss with Roman about not sending the case through trial at all” Pattons smile has disappeared now. 

“You want me to throw out the case?”  Patton inquires “You want me to give up? I thank you...for your concern Logan” He perks up “But I am fine Lo!” Logan wants to say more but his attention is pulled away by a sudden scream.

“Papa!” 

“Dada!”

Two voices shout, Patton turns quickly smiling wider than ever.  Remus and Valerie come running towards them followed by a frantic Lia. Patton kneels embracing the twins ecstatically smothering each with kisses. Logan releases a sharp breath he hadn't realized he had been holding when he saw the twins. The corner of his mouth rising into a small smile. They pull away and the twins notice Logan. 

“I'm so sorry! I tried to stop them but they saw you-” Lia rambles but Patton simply smiles. “Sorry…” Patton giggles.

“Lia, it's alright,” Patton says looking down at the twins “I'm here to pick them up anyway, thank you for taking care of them” Lia nods, holding up a finger. She takes the twins by their hand, much to Patton's disappointment.

“Let's go get your things so your dad can take you home!” She exclaims, the twins squeal and follow excitedly skipping in line. Patton turns to Logan, who is deep in thought. Patton smiles sweetly before tilting his head. He waves in Logan's face.

“I apologize, Patton, seems I was lost…” He shakes his head, Patton shrugs. “I also would like to apologize for my earlier predicament, I simply do not want to see you get hurt” Logan admits his tone softer. Patton felt a flush rise in his cheeks, sure it was turning red he turned away failing to hide a smile. “Patton? Are you alright” Logans voice rising in concern. Patton took a sharp breath and turned back to Logan smiling wide. 

“Thank you, Lo! It means a lot” He says finally, cursing himself for his obvious infatuation with the serious lawyer. He reminds himself to thank whatever gods are at play as he hears the twins rushing back towards him. Logan goes to say something but is quickly silenced by the squealing of the twins returning, and a certain smile returns as well. What is wrong with me?

“Ready to go kiddos?” Patton asks the heat on his face calming down. Both twins bounced, nodding. Logan felt a chuckle escape from his mouth, he felt his eyes grow with horror as all four people present turned to him. Lia was the first to speak.

“Wow” She looked down at the twins “You two made Mister Serious Face laugh” She commented, Logan huffed. They shared a glare, but ultimately Logan knew it was all in good fun. He fondly recalls when he first met Lia and Patton. There was that flutter once more. 

“Does that mean we get extra cookies next time?” Valerie asks, Lia laughs delighted before ruffling the young girl's hair. 

“You can have all the cookies you want,” Lia says before hugging the twin's goodbye and disappearing into the colorful room of bubbly children. The twin's smirk, turning to Logan. Patton notices and quickly averts the situation. 

“Oh no, absolutely not,” He says much to Logan's confusion “Lo...gan” He falters. “Logan is a grown man and you will treat him like one.” He lectures, somehow still holding a soft tone.  

“But you let us do it with you” Remus whines, still eyeing the confused lawyer, Valerie nods disappointed. “And Roman lets us!” Logan suddenly feels as though he is watching through a lens. He feels a stab of an annoying emotion at the mention of the judge's name. He feels an urge to do whatever the twins want, to be at their disposal. 

“That’s because I'm your dad, and I love doing it with you two. And the same goes for Roman, he's used to it and allows you to” Patton coos, the twins blush sweetly.  “But we have to respect others. Logan might no-”

“I assure you, Patton, whatever it is, I would be more than willing to participate” Logan inserts himself into the conversation. Patton eyes him with concerned shock, the twins squeal once more gleefully. As the men make eye contact, something changes. Patton's eyes grow wide in mischievous excitement. He looks to his twins before shrugging giving them the all-clear. Logan could swear he could see a glint of devilishness in the twin's eyes.

“Twin tackle!” They shout in unison before racing forward jumping high enveloping Logan into a giant hug. Logan is hesitant, he wants to move back, to push them off. That is until he catches the pure joy oozing out of Patton, the smile on the man's face could light up the darkest of days. So Logan picks the twins up, holding them close, they squeal in delight fighting against him happily. They were small, and light. They poke and prod Logan for all he was worth, playing with his glasses, ruffling his hair, using his face as their personal sculpting base. Logan felt resistant, over-stimulated but he didn't have the heart to break their fun. Thankfully, Patton did.

“Ok kiddos, I think you've done enough!” He exclaims sweetly, pulling Valerie from Logan's arms. He hopes his thankful glance registered. Remus however, clutches on to Logan. Resistant, he watches as his father holds Valerie. Patton makes his way to take Remus, but he deepens his hold of Logan's shirt, pouting wildly at his father. Patton's face drops sympathetically at his son, Logan watches with curiosity, 

“Dada! I wanna stay with Mister To..t-t-tolen…” Remus pauses scrunching his brows, he looks up at Logan. “What's your name again?” He whispers, Patton giggles, Logan fights an everlasting smile. 

“You can call me Logan, I suppose” Logan responds gently, he feels his tone becomes softer. Odd. He looks to Patton, who glances up at him still smiling joyously. Logan feels his defenses fall once more, his insides crack with the storm of a flutter that takes place. He can feel his face flush a deep crimson as Patton stares at him with nothing but love. He doesn't want it to end, he wants to stay here. He wants to remain with Remus in his arms, staring at Patton. He wants to feel this every day. 

“Dada, I wanna stay with Mister Logan” Remus announces, Patton sighs. Logan appreciates the sliver of politeness the boy still holds. He glances up at Logan, but can't seem to read his face. He makes his way closer to the little boy, who pulls his best pout.

“Remus bud, I'm sorry, but you need to come down now” Patton explains softly, his knees bent so he’s face to face with the young boy. Logan prepares himself to hand over the twin but can't move his arms. He feels them protectively placed around Remus supporting him, and shielding him from the outside world. Patton goes to make his transfer but Logan stops him. “Lo? Could I please have my child back?” He jokes, cautious.

“No” Logan responds, not really thinking. Patton raises a brow, his defenses build up. “I mean no Patton, it's alright. I can carry Remus a little while longer” Patton scans his face, concern riddled everywhere “Ill be alright, we will be alright. Promise” Logan assures. Patton lets out a small puff of air, astonished. He nods, a smile growing once more on his face, does he ever stop smiling? Logan thinks, quickly adding, not that he should ever stop. Patton takes one more look at the two before picking up the twins things and hoisting Valerie up carrying her in a similar manner to Logan. 

“Ok then,” Patton says finally, still examining Logan “Everyone ready to go?” Valerie and Remus nod enthusiastically, Patton smiles at them then looks to Logan.

“Yes, Patton. I do believe I am...ready” Logan says, Patton nods and starts his way towards the front. Logan follows promptly, still carrying a very energetic Remus. He listens as Remus talks his ear off about almost everything he can find. Logan listens as Remus discusses his favorite types of animals. “Octopus? Very interesting Remus” Logan nods approvingly. 

“I love them! They are slimy, and they have lots of slimy things” Remus exclaims, gesturing wildly. Slimy is a selling point, Logan notes “And they're big and slimy! Did..did you know that they can hide? They can..” He pouts before tilting his head slightly to Patton's direction. “Dada! How do octopus hide?” He shouts across the hall. Patton turns, furrowing his brows. He begins to speak but Logan quickly interjects.

“I believe that Remus is talking about the ‘Mimic Octopus’. It has the ability to change form and color to impersonate its surroundings. Making it less likely to be prey as opposed to predator” Logan explains, excited about the intellectual conversation. Remus tilts his head pondering, he pouts. Logan glances towards Patton who smiles amused. Logan nods before turning back to Remus “It can blend into things” He says simply, something clicks in Remus who bounces in Logan's arms. He continues on his rambles, Logan listens to the boy intently. Unbeknownst to Logan, Patton watches the pair with pride. He watches Logan listen and respond to everything Remus says, he watches Remus’s eyes light up when Logan teaches him something new. He watches as the two seem to bounce off each other, much like Roman and Valerie. He feels a familiar sensation in his chest, a flutter. A stupid, stupid flutter. Patton would never admit it, but he was glad to feel it return after his trip. 

[summahsunlight]

We Belong to the Stars, Ch.26

Rating: Mature (18+ only)

Word Count: 1950

Pairings: Poe/Skywalker!OC

Characters: Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, BB-8, Kaleb Skywalker (OC), Evelyn Skywalker (OC), Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, Snap Wexley, Jessika Pava, BB-8

Taglist: @ms-dont-care​ if you want to be added to the tag list comment or send me an ask☺️

I reposted this, not sure it was showing up in the tags, etc.  Like reading this? Please feel free to leave a comment on the post, in an ask, or even a reblog. I LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU❤️

Poe noticed that a woman was joining them in the situation room; one that he had never seen before.

The woman was tall, slender and wore her blonde hair in a tight bun, accenting her high cheekbones.  Honey colored eyes watched Black Squadron closely as they wandered into the room, all dressed in casual attire since they had been given the night off originally. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your night of freedom,” she said, eyes gazing directly at Poe.  She then quirked a grin and reached for the collar of his shirt. “And I apologize to the woman I took you away from, Commander.”

He tensed, immediately; eyes snapping up to briefly glimpse at Evelyn, whose cheeks flushed pink. Poe took a step back from the woman and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma'am.”

“You have a nice shade of lipstick on your collar. I’m a spy, we notice these things, Commander.”

“Another spy? What happened to Dane?”

She chuckled and crossed her arms over her small chest. “He’s around, somewhere; I heard he had some complications when it came to working with your squadron–so I was called in.  Jas and I have worked well together in the past, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Great, now there’s two of them, Poe thought.  Looking around at his squadron, he asked, “And you are?”

The woman smiled and held her hand out to him. “Forgive me, Commander, my name is Ana Renick.”  She shook his hand, warmly.  Poe was struck with how different she was then Dane–she at least appeared to respect him and his fellow pilots. “I look forward to working with you and your squadron.”

“What exactly are we going to be working on for you?” he asked, cautiously.  They were still recovering from their last mission…

"You’ll be going undercover,“ she informed them and then she smiled, slyly, at Poe. "You should pass as a wealthy weapon’s dealer, Commander, your handsome face will certainly help you blend in.”

Poe kept a neutral expression on his face. He knew a thing or two about how business worked on Canto Bright.  Wealthy beings from all over the galaxy dressed in some of the most lavish clothes and threw away money as if it freely flowed in the nearby bay.  "Agent Lothor sent a transmission to a weapon’s dealer?“ he questioned, not sure he entirely believed Renick. "Was he on our side or not?”

“War is business,” Ana replied with a shrug of her slender shoulders. “And no, he didn’t send it to a weapon’s dealer–it was intercepted and now it’s being sold to the highest bidder.”

“Let me guess,” Poe said, eyes narrowing on her. “I’m the highest bidder.”

Her response was a smile. Ana handed him a data card. “This is your cover. Black Squadron will take a ship to Canto Bright, where you will infiltrate the casinos there.  Your target will be at the high rollers’ table. He’ll know you’re there for the information because you’ll be wearing a blue flower on your lapel.  Let him come to you, Commander.  If you rouse any kind of suspicion this mission is going unravel–quickly.”

He clutched the data card in his hand. Poe wasn’t sure this was such a good idea.  There were so many unknowns when heading into an undercover operation like this. “Wait a minute,” he said, reading over the file, “this says my wife will be with me.”

Ana quirked an eyebrow. “We can’t have you waltzing in there single; a man with your looks and money will have women all over you at Canto Bright. Lieutenant Skywalker or Lieutenant Pava will be sufficient enough to pass as your wife, Commander. I had requested Miss Skywalker, however, General Organa would like the decision to ultimately be up to you.”

Poe looked at both women. If there wasn’t a table between them and Renick he was sure one of them would have slapped her.  "Well, what do you say ladies?“ he inquired, with a soft smile in their direction, "which one of you is marrying me?”

“Evelyn, should, clearly–you bicker already like you’re married,” Jess said with a shrug.

“The spy is right–Evelyn is better for the job, although I bet she has other reasons,” Snap quipped with a smile.

“Princess?” Poe questioned, grinning at her.

“Fine,” Evelyn responded. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Well,” Snap drawled, “It’s not a resounding yes, but it was close enough. Congratulations, Commander, looks like you just got hitched.”

“Sorry I don’t have a ring, princess.”

“I’ll get over it.”

Ana cleared her throat to get the pilots attention. “As fun as it would be to plan your fake wedding, Commander Dameron, Lieutenant Skywalker–we have mission prep to complete.”

Evelyn threw a glance at Jess. “Isn’t fake wedding planning part of the mission prep if Poe and I are going to pretend to be married? I would think our wedding story would be part of our cover.”

Jess snapped her fingers. “I bet you guys got married by the ocean, only closest friends and family were there, and your dress was a creamy white, to match the sand of the beach.”

Snap scratched his chin. “Why a creamy white dress? Why not pure white?”

“Oh please, she isn’t a pure bride.”

“Jessika!”

“What? It’s true, Evie.”

Rolling her eyes, Leia interrupted,“Are you all just about done?” She laughed silently when the pilots all sheepishly adverted her gaze. “We have little time to prepare. Black Squadron needs to leave almost immediately.  So, I’m sorry, Commander, there isn’t going to be a honeymoon.”

Poe smiled, charmingly at Evelyn. “That’s okay, General, we're way passed the honeymoon period.”

Evelyn glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m already regretting this.”

Jess clicked her tongue. “See? They already act like a married couple…”

“Here are your mission specs,” Ana said, shoving a data card into Poe’s hand.  "You depart in two hours; the Resistance has procured a rather fancy ship for you, Commander, but I suggest that you return it us in one piece.“

"Yes ma'am,” Poe said, giving her a little salute. He noticed the slight smile that she gave him in return.  "Anything else we should know before we leave?“

Ana shook her head and dismissed them.  As Black Squadron was leaving the room, Poe could distinctly hear Leia inform the spy that she shouldn’t expect the yacht to come back to base in one piece.

Black Squadron loaded the yacht with supplies for their mission well into the late evening hours. There wouldn’t be much sleep for them–they were scheduled to depart first thing in the morning.  So, they had chosen to bunk up on the yacht.  

"Hey Snap, don’t you think the mister and missus should take the bigger suite?” Jess teased, grinning from ear to ear at Poe and Evelyn.

“Like they’re going to sleep,” Snap said, chuckling.

Poe glared at them. “Are you both going to place a bet on this?”

Snap laughed, warmly. “Nah, we placed a bet on that months ago–Pava won of course.  Come on, you both can fess up– we know you’re back together.”

Jess smiled. “Although, it’s been fun watching the two of you try to explain why you were late to briefings, or dinner, or acting like we didn’t see you kiss, even though we know you did.”

“Guess you can tell BeeBee he doesn’t need to keep it a secret anymore,” Evelyn countered, a soft smile on her face.

“No, he doesn’t,” Snap said, “but you might want to let him know that you aren’t really married. He seemed a little confused.”

Poe’s eyes went wide.  He’d only told BB-8 not say a word about them dating again–he’d never mentioned that the marriage was a cover–by morning it was possible that everyone was going to have the wrong impression. There was a real chance that BB-8 was out there at that very moment on the base announcing that Poe and Evelyn had gotten married. “Damn it.”

Jess pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, when we get back from Canto Bright, we’ll make sure to throw you a killer bachelor party.”

Snap laughed and followed Jess towards the smaller bunk room that servants would use on the yacht.  After they were gone, Evelyn crossed her arms and smiled at him.  "Don’t worry, I saw BeeBee shut down for the night about thirty minutes ago.  He isn’t out there announcing our wedding to the galaxy.“

"Thank the Force,” Poe muttered, running a hand through his hair.  "Bee is a great companion and I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the galaxy…“

"However,” Evelyn countered, still smiling, “he doesn’t understand when to keep information to himself.”

“Exactly.”

“Come on, Commander. We probably should get some sleep.”

Poe grinned at her. “Do you mean to actually sleep–or to do what Snap was hinting at?”

Evelyn punched him, playfully in the arm. She moved away from him and punched in the code for the suite.  In the middle was a large, plush bed–softer than any she’d slept in since joining the Resistance. As she was thinking about falling into the blankets and mountains of pillows, she felt Poe’s arms around her, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed.  "Poe, really?  Aren’t you tired?“

Resting her on the bed, Poe smiled down at her. "I am.  Exhausted, actually. I’m just making sure that my wife is comfortable.” He pushed her hair back, away from her face and kissed her. “After all, she expect the finest things in life, including a husband that waits on her hand and foot.”

She watched as he pulled her boots off and placed them down next to the bed. “I could get used to this,” she said, quirking a grin as he massaged the soles of her feet.  

He looked at her, mischievously. “Well, you only have this for a few days.  I wouldn’t get used to it, but enjoy it while it lasts, dear.”

“You mean, after this mission is over you won’t take care of me?”

“Oh Evie, of course I’ll take care of you. Always. Taking care of you is much different than being at your beck and call.”

“This is true. I think I prefer when you take care of me, it means more then.”

Poe slipped out of his jacket and boots before laying down next to her.  He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to her temple, and he smiled, coyly.“So…what kind of taking care of do you want from me tonight?”

Evelyn shook her head and laughed, snuggling into his embrace. “Poe, just shut up and go to sleep.”

He couldn’t sleep though, as she laid there in his arms, Poe’s mind was going at light speed. “Evie. You ever think about us…getting married?”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, noticing the intense gaze. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” Poe said, softly. “Ironically, I thought about it more after I left you.”

“Maybe,” Evelyn sighed, “Maybe…someday…I could see us getting married."

Poe smiled at her and gently kissed her. "Well…maybe is better than no.”

Evelyn felt a tear slid down on her cheek. “I only said maybe because…because… I don’t know….if I’ll survive all this."

Wrapping her tightly into his arms, Poe buried his nose in her hair.  He wished that he could assure that they were going to survive the coming conflict, but he knew–it was uncertain and it was something that he couldn’t promise her, no matter how much he wanted too.  

[parachutingkitten]

Good Morning, Mr. Borg: Ch 3

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Sorry it’s been like years and years since I’ve updated! I promise I’ll try to be more consistent from now on. Should be easier now that I’ve drawn up an outline for myself! Also, welcome to Birthday Week everyone! Stay tuned for chapter updates all week long! 

Happy Reading!

I didn’t remember waking up. But there I was, staring at the ceiling, my body lying awkwardly against the couch cushions as two familiar voices prattled on in the background. I shifted my weight, trying to sit up. The sofa was the kind that would swallow you as you moved, acting like quicksand as I struggled to get my bearings. Once I had sat up, I began rolling out my right shoulder, looking around the room. I was back in Mr. Borg’s office- He and Cryptor were huddled around his computer while angrily debating something.

“Can’t you tell what it’s doing?”

“I’ve told you! The system can’t see it! Security hasn’t been breached; it says everything is clear!”

It was then that I remembered what had knocked me out in the first place. I lifted my hand, examining my finger. There was still a small puncture wound, but other than that, no trace of anything being wrong. 

“What happened?” I asked, interrupting their discussion.

“Ah, sleeping beauty finally awakes from pricking her finger.” Cryptor chuckled, turning to look at me.

“Drew! Are you alright?” Mr. Borg asked, frantically turning around, wheeling himself towards me. “The serum shouldn’t have harmed you. You might feel a bit dizzy though.”

“I’m fine,” I assured him as he reached my side. “But what was that?”

“Just an emergency security measure. Why it activated, we��re still not sure,” He sighed.

“Whatever the reason, it’s now somehow spread to the rest of the tower security.” Cryptor chimed in, still at the computer at the far side of the room.

“What?!” I stood up, surprised to feel my feet touch the floor. My shoes. Where were my shoes?

“We’re stuck in lockdown mode, communication is shot, and the lights have been on and off for the past hour or so,” Cryptor explained. 

I found my heels around the corner of the couch, quickly slipping them on as I looked at Mr. Borg. “I didn’t even know we had an elevator security feature like that. Since when has it been installed?”

He smiled. “Oh, it was Pixal’s idea!” Of course it was. “We had it installed just after she left. I guess I just forgot to mention it to you. I never expected to use it.” I stood up, finding my balance again. “I really am sorry dear.” 

“It’s alright,” I dismissed it. Thanks a lot, Pixal. Your brilliant security system prevented your replacement from checking security. “We just need to figure out why it happened.” I started walking over towards Cryptor at the main computer. “You’re sure there’s no way to trace whatever’s gotten into the system?”

“Borg was the only one able to access the elevator security specs, none the less able to activate them. Whatever has taken control of the tower is so deep into the system that the tower isn’t even processing any of its changes.” Cryptor scrolled through the security screens, all systems reading normal.

“It’s like it’s invisible,” I marveled. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Mr. Borg sighed, wheeling up to us. “I have.”

“When?” Cryptor asked, both our eyes now glued to him.

Cyrus stared at the screen for a moment, as if looking for other possibilities. “The one thing I know of that behaved like this when it breached the tower’s system… was the Overlord.”

Cryptor and I glanced at each other. 

“No… no, this can’t be the Overlord,” I insisted. “There’s no way! We’re done with that! Zane defeated him years ago, even if there was a remnant of him in the system, we would have caught it by now… right?”

“I don’t know,” Cryptor refuted. “If it’s behaving like the Overlord, that means it entered the system the same way the Overlord did. How did the Overlord enter the system again? We built the building on top of his remains!” He stressed. “We haven’t moved the building, we haven’t rebuilt the foundations, we haven’t even expanded! Unless there are some other dead guys we built on top of that we didn’t know about the first time, there aren’t really any other options, are there?”

“Drew has a point though,” Cyrus shook his head. “After that final battle, Pixal and I searched countless times for any trace left of the Overlord. We found nothing.”

“As great of a job I’m sure Pixal did,” Cryptor rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what else it could be. Unless of course you have some secret cemetery under the floorboards you’re not telling me about.”

“No, but we do have a basement,” I reasoned. 

“So?” Cryptor pressed.

“So, anything in the basement would technically be at the same level the Overlord was when construction began. If anything were destroyed and left down there, there’s a chance something similar to the Overlord could have happened.”

“Oh no…” Mr. Borg leaned back in his chair.

“What? What’s in the basement?” Cryptor asked.

“...The furnace.”

I could feel my pulse accelerate as a host of possibilities flooded my mind. “The furnace that we’ve used to destroy every piece of malfunctioning tech we’ve ever built?! That’s not to mention a good portion of Overlord era tech as well.” I hung my hands on my head and began pacing the room. “Oh, this is great. This is fantastic! I’m sure none of the failed inventions we’ve burned alive would have any reason to seek revenge on us!”

“So, it could be literally anything?” Cryptor clarified. 

“And failed computer code is known for being rational and easy to deal with, right?” I rambled. “You know, at least if it were the Overlord, we would know how to begin to deal with it!”

“Drew, it’s okay.” Mr. Borg tried to calm me. “We’ll figure this out. I’m sure it’s not as bad as we’re making it out to be.”

“Isn’t it?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. “Because we’re currently trapped, alone, in a hundred story building with one of the best security systems in the world, being controlled by who knows what that has it in for us with no hope of rescue because, may I remind you, there’s a raging freak snow storm going on outside!”

And as if on cue, just then, the lights cut out.

“Great,” Cryptor sighed. “Now we’ve made it mad.”

“Look, if it can cut power to the lights, it can cut power to anything else.” Mr. Borg reasoned. “Let’s use what we have while we still can. I’m going to try some more abstract back door protocols to try and see if we can get back any sort of control. If you two want to look for any notes Pixal left about the security system, digital or otherwise, that would be great.”

“Pixal?” Cryptor asked. “What, she design the security system too?”

“No,” Mr. Borg responded. “But she knew it inside and out. I would trust anything she might have mentioned in the project notes.”

I took a few deep breaths, calming myself down. Yes, this was all crazy, but we didn’t know anything for sure yet, and there was still time to find answers. “Okay, we can do this,” I sighed, making my way over to my desk.

“All hail Pixal, the all-knowing goddess of Borg Tower,” Cryptor mumbled. 

I chuckled a bit as he followed me over to my desk. “Stop it.”

“I swear it’s like the hundredth time he’s mentioned her today.”

“He’s coping.” I waved it off, typing in my password. “She was his right hand last time something like this happened. It only makes sense he’d try and lean on her again.”

“I guess,” he shrugged.

“Here, you check the digital security notes, I’ll see if I can find the original paper copies.” I gestured to my computer and opened my desk drawer, pulling a small key out from the back. 

“Sounds good.” He sat down, getting his bearings. I walked over to the wall of filing cabinets to my left looking up and down the tiny faded labels for the drawer I was looking for.

“Ticking. Chilled. Sweet. Dispersed. Detached. Floating. Silver. What is this?” Cryptor asked.

“It’s my daily sticky note.” I explained, opening my first suspected drawer.

“What exactly does that mean?” he pried.

“Oh just… words that come to me throughout the day. By the time I leave work I have a sort of mood-of-the-day word cloud.” I pulled out the first file labeled simply ‘plans’. This place really needs a better naming system.

“Huh…” Cryptor thought for a moment before I heard a pen click. “I think you’re missing a few words on here.”

“No, I really don’t think I am.” I turned around to look at him this time, seeing where this was going.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll just add them for you here real quick.” He waved it off playfully. “How about handsome stranger.” I found myself suppressing laughs as he continued to write. “I think that one’s extremely accurate, and, you know, important to at least mention. Um… mistakenly drugged. I think that was a pretty big part of your day so far. And then, how about Hijacked. See, it works on two levels because of the whole tower thing, but also... what I’m doing right now,” He smiled coyly. 

“Now that you mention it, I do have a few words you could add.” I moved forward, leaning on the side of the desk. “ How about Frustration. Annoyance. Total waste of time. Maybe even Not as clever as he thinks.” 

“I don’t know, that last one seems a bit wordy to me.”

“No, I think that one’s the most important one,” I chuckled.

“Oh! Cryptor!” Mr. Borg called from the other side of the room, interrupting us. “Your arm! I’ll finish the redesign on it and maybe we can get it built before anything else goes wrong!”

“You figure out what was wrong with it?” He asked.

“I’m pretty sure it was a problem with the connection rotation, so it shouldn’t take long to fix.” Mr. Borg assured him. 

“Let’s do it then,” Cryptor agreed, Mr. Borg quickly returning to his computer to finish the plans.

“He’s really glad you’re here you know,” I told him, my voice a bit hushed. “He was so worried you wouldn’t even come.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he smiled. “Even if whatever’s going on in this building ends up killing us… I think I’m still glad I showed up.”

[nymphl]

Lie to Me - Hux x Reader x Ch. 9: Cheap & Expensive

A/N: Hello xD Reading the spoilers for the Hux comics I still didn’t read the entire thing, made me realize that although I couldn’t come up with new chapters for any of my stories, I should update Lie to Me here on tumblr. So here it goes. Starring in this chapter my fav characters to write about and my fav relationship Aurra and Hux hehe. I hope you like it xD

Story Summary: Falling for the enemy… That’s probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Letting him live… for he should be dead. And you should’ve been the one to kill him. You had him, right there… and you let it escape through yours fingers. He lived. And now only the time could tell if you made the right decision — more likely wrong — by saving the amnesiac General of the First Order and telling him he was your husband. [Hux x Reader - Hux x You]

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: from enemies to lovers; eventual romance; memory loss; fake marriage; fake marriage becomes real marriage; rebellion; married couple; canon divergence; slow burn romance; politics; rebel alliance; resistance; first order; OOCness; eventual smut; eventual sex; power play; power dynamics; syndicate; lies; you lie; Hux lies; Hux backstory; manipulation; political alliances; political betrayals; secret organizations.

Wordcount: 4903. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER  *** NEXT CHAPTER

ARMITAGE HUX HAD DARK CIRCLES UNDER HIS EYES. Even if he did not remember, he looked pretty much like his old self — of not even three months ago.

Besides that, he sported a busted lip and — he wondered how many — a few broken ribs. At least, he managed to put his nose back in place — or the guys who broke it in the first place did. The pain was not nearly unbearable, but he could not recall the last time he felt so battered.

Probably a long time ago, he mused, spitting the blood in his mouth. He closed his eyes and let his head hung low. Albeit the scalding sun of Dantooine was not up there in the sky to hurt his clear irises, the darkness made it almost impossible to distinguish the path they were taking him.

It did not mean he was unaware of his surroundings.

He had trained all his life in the Academy of his home planet — and although he knew from the beginning he was destined for great things, he did not miss even one of the trainings, Rae Sloane made sure of that — for situations like this. Arkanis Academy was known to push their soldiers harder than any other planet loyal to the First Order. Simulations in which the cadets were deprived of one, sometimes more, of their senses were almost a daily event. By the end of the last year, only the best were fit to serve the Order. And obviously, he graduated at the top of his class.    

Later, as he climbed the steps to the very top of the First Order, he never turned down a mission in which he had to risk his life. He was not sure he could trust anyone who could not risk their lives for the cause.  

Of course, to be beaten like that bruised his ego. It had been a while since he last saw himself in an analogous situation. But that had to be done.

Hux was a never someone who expected immediate results for anything in life — and even less when it was something of greater importance. Unlike Ren — and even Phasma —, he was a very patient man. Now that he had some of his old memories back — not all of them, but some very important ones — he recalled how this trait came in hand when he needed it the most. Hell, it took him almost twenty and then some years conspiring in the shadows to have his father killed and rise to the very top of the First Order.

And if he could wait so long to get rid of his sire — his darkest, deepest desire — he could wait to talk to the head of the Dantooinian Syndicate.

It was with a sharp intake of breath that he firmed himself on his knees when the four men escorting him threw his battered form to the rough ground. He spat the bitter earth from his lips and cursed when one of them threw a bucket of cold water on his face.

“What is the meaning of this, morons?”

Hux opened his bluish eyes only to be met with an alabaster, wrinkled face of someone he — and the entire galaxy — thought to be dead.    

You’re not afraid of intimacy. You’re afraid of enjoying it… With me.

A sigh left your lips as soon as you opened your eyes. You could not sleep even a bit and when you finally started to doze off, you heard your husband leaving the house.

You could have asked where he was going; you could have tried to stop him. Instead, you let your head hit the pillow and sleep claim you. Only to wake up not even half an hour later worried about him.    

Honestly, you knew that whatever he was doing, there was no stopping him. Besides, you were not sure you wanted to see his face anytime soon. And you had to get some rest if you were to even live for another day.

But it was getting increasingly difficult. His words — his voice — would not leave you alone.

You’re afraid of enjoying it… With me.

Right now, what scared you the most was not the fact he was right. The prospect of getting intimate with him and enjoying it still terrified you. Enjoying what he could do to you. A small, silly part of you thought of that as cheating on your late husband — even if he was dead. However, what made you lose sleep at night was the idea of him getting closer to the truth at each passing day.

For the Maker!

You got his pillow and brought it to your face, smothering a frustrated scream.

Earlier, when he said those words, you could not bring yourself to give him an answer. He did not seem to expect one — actually, he probably thought you to be sleeping and you let him believe so. It took him some minutes to lay you carefully on the bed, leave the room and, shortly after, the house.

Part of you wanted to just give in and get him out of your system. But you were smarter than that; that notion of getting over someone after getting physical with them was ridiculous, not to mention impossible. You had feelings for him; the depth of them was still unknown even to you — and you had no idea if you wanted to know. To acknowledge you felt something was already too much. To think about their nature would be torture.

If you just… if you gave in, you knew there would be no going back.

Kriffs!

You let go of his pillow — his scent was making it difficult for you to think straight — and sat on the mattress. You should go to work. That was the only and definite way to get him out of your system for at least a few hours.

If the cold water they threw at his face had not washed whatever drowsiness he may have felt, the sight of Aurra Sing certainly had. An infamous name in the underworld, everyone believed her to be dead back in the early days of the Empire.

Hux, however, did not let the shocking news take control of him. It was no surprise that a bounty hunter outlived those who wished them dead.

Still on his knees, hands tied on his back, he eyed her with rapt attention. She had aged — not that he had met her before, but both in Arkanis and in the First Order they had files concerning the most famous criminals of all systems, mainly those who had served the Empire —, her face was wrinkled and her once auburn hair was tinted white. As white as her alabaster skin. The sharp planes of her face, however, remained. Her green eyes were as cold as his and the glint of pure arrogance they sported almost made Hux snort. But that was just the surface. There, in the depths of those orbs, he could distinguish it.

Fear.

That was how many of his enemies stared at him in the past. That was the feeling he enjoyed seeing in them the most. Only those who had never seen it — and savored it —in his enemies’ eyes, would ever consider respect and loyalty above fear.

But he was not there to make new enemies.

“Beckett died believing he had finished you off,” he said, his voice firm and controlled. He did not show an ounce of fear. His reaction — or lack of expected reaction — seemed to please her.

She threw her head back and laughed.  

“Oh, hon, many of my enemies did.”

There was silence for a second. It was thick and tense. Hux would have squared his shoulders, if the pain of moving even a bit was not excruciating.   

“Uncuff him,” she ordered, leaving her throne.

It took him less than a few seconds to notice what they were made of. As white as her skin, it was clear the throne in which she sat — in which she commanded the very Syndicate in Dantooine — was made of bones. Her enemies’ bones.

The shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Rae Sloane would like her — the woman hated whomever did not follow the rules and thought that people like Aurra Sing were an unnecessary evil in the Galaxy — if not her illicit activity, at least for her audacity.

“I said uncuff him,” she repeated, using a walking stick to firm herself on her shaky legs. Hux stared at her through narrowed eyes. “I swear, you get stupider by the day.”

Her voice made all four of her thugs to tremble in fear. And just like him, Hux discovered she reveled in that feeling. It made her feel powerful.

They obeyed her, nonetheless.

But not without pushing him towards the ground. Amirtage used both hands to support his weight, preventing his face from meeting the soil. The action made his entire body ache. He straightened his back and grimaced; he could bet he had more than three broken ribs.

“Help him to his feet and bring him to the dining room.” She had already turned her back on the five of them. “And give him something to clean his face. I would hate to stare at his blood while I have my breakfast.”  

“Mother!”

The four interjected at the same time. But their plea fell on deaf ears. Aurra Sing was certainly not a woman to give any man power over her. And that’s exactly why she lived to see another day when most of her friends and foes alike met their deaths.

“You can’t trust him,” one of them pleaded. He, a specimen of the Duros, had his hand on Hux’s shoulder, pressing his fingers hard on his flesh. He pursed his lips into a thin line. Being held in place by a cybernetic limb hurt more than he thought at first — that or he was truly out of shape.

Rae would be extremely disappointed in him.

“Right now, I trust him more than I trust any of you!” She turned to face them, her walking stick pointed to the one who spoke. She opened fire against them and in no moment looked any closer of losing her balance.

That made Hux’s lips tilt upwards slightly.

As expected.

So far, everything was happening exactly as he had planned.

“Firstly, you bring him to our hideout, risking everything Cad Bane and I worked for the last few decades, and now you expect me to trust you over him?”   

“He killed one of ours!” the Duros replied. His voice was slightly louder. High-pitched. And Hux realized that he was no more than a boy.

He could have added that he had killed three of them. The one who invaded his house and threated his wife, and, later, two of them while he searched for some information concerning the failed attempt of the First Order at ruling Dantooine.

You can be at ease, I did not kill anyone.

He lied.

Not exactly. But he did not tell the truth either.

He had not killed anyone that specific day — and her question referred to that day alone — but that was not the first time he had gone out and looked for the missing pieces that could help him restore his lost memories. Of course, he could do it without killing someone, but he wanted to draw attention to him and drawing attention he did.  

And here he was.

“Any man stupid enough to seek a member of the First Order when I clearly told him not to, is not one of ours.”

Her answer left them agape. Out of respect — and fear — they fell to their knees. At the same time, Hux rose to his feet, flexing the fingers of his right hand. They were still numb; he could feel the blood slowly returning to its place.  

“You’re all stupider than I presumed you to be if you think you captured him and brought him to me.”

The four of them were silent. But it was not necessary to hear their voices to know they were confused; her words did not make any sense to them. 

“He. Kriffing. Played. You. All.” She threw her hands up, as if silently asking for a lightening to come and strike everyone in the throne room. That made Hux smile openly. “You brought him here because he wished to be brought here and not the other way around.”

As she pushed past them, she could not help but hit them with her walking stick — a blaster actually.

“Get out of my sight!”

His face was clean and even though his lips were swollen, he still could taste the strong taste of the Corellian Rum offered to him. The alcohol made the cut in his skin burn, but he brushed it off. It has been some time since he last had some proper Corellian Rum and he was not about to dismiss it that easily.

Not when his host was watching his very movements carefully.  

“I hope you do have a hidden weapon with you,” she started, placing both hands under her chin. Her green eyes were narrowed; their intense color sufficient to make a grown man tremble, but not Hux.

Not someone who had been stared at that way since he could remember.

“Oh, darling.” Aurra laughed, and the sound was slightly annoying even giving their distance. “I am highly disappointed in you now.”

They were currently in a vast room with a huge table. They both were seated on the extremities of it and domestic droids rushed from one side to the other to serve them. He brought his glass to his lips once again and sipped his drink.

“You think because I’m all wrinkled and old I am unable to defend myself.”

She shook her head and snorted. She chewed her food slowly, taking her time to analyze Hux and his very movements. She knew she was being analyzed as well and that different from her soldiers, he did not fear her in the tiniest bit.

“Beckett believed so and here I am now and do tell me, General, where is he?”

There was no answer from him, which made her lose some of her composure. He mimicked her action of a few minutes ago, chewing his food slowly and then bringing the cup of rum to his mouth in a leisurely pace.  

Part of her did want to say he was committing a mistake — seeking her out and trying to undermine her forces in front of her men — but she was not stupid enough to believe he was alone. Surely, someone of the First Order was backing him. As for the girl — Aquilla Syndulla’s wife —, he was most likely using her to gain information on the Resistance. Only a fool would think he had feelings for her. A man who had decimated an entire system did not know the meaning of such word.

Aurra almost felt sorry for the girl. And she would have, if she did not have her own Empire to take care of. She had no time for a stupid woman who decided to save a man who should be dead by now. A stupid woman who refused her help when it was offered. Aurra still recalled how she asked to be left alone when she offered a shoulder for the girl to cry on after the passing of her husband.

No.

The damned girl could die for all she cared. She had an Empire to rule and rule it she would. But part of her admired the girl. It took someone courageous — or very naïve — to help a General of the First Order. Did she have no fear at all?    

Aurra, for one, had never feared anything. She had fought in the Clone Wars, she had worked for the Empire — she had seen that same Empire fall — and had become a fugitive when the New Republic took the reins of the Galaxy. She had survived it all, but she had never seen something like the First Order. An organization with so much power and money that building a weapon capable of destroying an entire system seemed child’s play. A force unlike any other she had ever seen in her long life.

For the Maker, they had invaded Dantooine and they had almost conquered it. Did they plan on conquering it at all? She had her doubts.    

“I have known men like you my entire life, General.”

She expected him to say she did not, that he was different and some bullshit like that — men always enjoyed showing how much powerful they were; it only got more noticeable when they dealt with a much older or younger woman. It was with some surprise that she realized he would not say anything to contradict her.

He was playing her. And he was enjoying it immensely.

“You think you have all the cards in your hands and that you can bend the rules of the game.”

He lowered his glass to the table. The sound echoed in the empty room, making Aurra flinch slightly.

“It is because I can.”

It was pitch dark outside when you finally opened the door of your house, removed your bag from your shoulders and placed it over the dining table.

A contented sigh left your lips as you looked at the food on the plate, the steam leaving it made your mouth water. You had not realized you missed having a droid so much in your life. The house was clean — cleaner than it had ever been — and the smell of freshly made food was surely a good point about owning them.

Your stomach growled, and you lost no time to get a spoon and taste the soup D-Five had prepared. Or was it Hux? As you tasted it, you knew the answer.

Definitely Hux.

You furrowed your brows. You thought he would be mad at you after yet another refusal of… well… bedding him.  

“Oh, Lady Hux! There you are!” The droid’s robotic greeting startled you. “Welcome back!”

You placed a hand over your heart and let a sigh leave your lips.

Kriffs!

“Thank you, D-Five.”

“Why would you thank me, Lady Hux? I merely did my job.”

You even thought about explaining yourself, but decided against it. You brought another spoonful to your mouth and thought about asking where Hux was, but again, decided to leave it alone. He was either in the refresher or outside.

Perhaps it would be best if he were outside. You would fall asleep before he returned and there would be nothing to discuss.

Perfect.

It is, till you noticed D-Five holding a small recipient with a clear and gelatinous substance inside.

Bacta.

“What are you doing?” you asked; spoon halfway towards your mouth. You lowered it back to the plate and straightened your back. “D-Five…”

���General Hux said I should not tell you anything.”

“Where is he?” You took some steps towards him and he mimicked you, stepping backwards. It would be funny, it is, if you were not worried-sick. You were out of bacta for a while now and if the General did have it with him, it was because something terrible happened.  

“The refresher?” the droid said, his tone that of a question. “For the record, I did not tell you anything, Lady Hux!”

Your heart was thundering in your chest as you entered the bedroom. It was empty. The General was nowhere in sight. It took you a while to hear the shower running over the sound of your loud heartbeats.

His privacy was the least of your concerns as you tried to enter the refresher, only to find the door locked. You were not surprised to see the trail of blood on the floor. 

“My Lord?”

There was no answer from him.

“Amirtage!”

You were ready to break the door when he opened it. He stood by the threshold, his nude form only covered by a towel hanging on his hips. You looked for any signs of a missing limb, but apart from his busted lip, you could not find anything.

Subconsciously, you threw your arms around him.

A small hiss escaped him, but he kept silent. He placed both hands on your shoulders and moved you slightly away. His cold stare made a shiver run up your spine.

“I saw your blood all over the floor,” you said, touching his face. His busted lip. “What happened?”

He did not give you an answer and instead moved away from you. He walked towards the wardrobe and got some clothes. You followed his movements with furrowed brows. He pulled a shirt over his head and it was impossible not to notice how he flinched slightly. Soon, he let the towel fall to the floor and put on light trousers.

This time, you did not close or eyes or turned around. Your eyes remained on his back, staring at the scars that graced the extension of his shoulders and continued down, till they disappeared in the limits of his waistband.

He turned to you, but instead of looking at you, he brought his fingers to the point right under his chest.  

“Are your…” You bit your bottom lip. “Are your ribs broken?”

His lack of answer was answer enough.

You shook your head and started searching in your belongings for something to give him. The bacta D-Five was holding just before would do it — and you thought that a medical droid would come in handy one of these days.

A sigh escaped your lips as you approached him and pulled his shirt, trying to get him out of it. He helped you, his face showing just a hint of discomfort. That was a mask, you knew. It was impossible for him not to feel at least some pain. Not with the extension of his past and recent injuries.

You touched his ribs as if he were the most fragile thing. It was easy to tell he had two broken ribs and at least two or three more were slightly bruised. The area was a bit swollen, but he had had worse. It would take only a few days for him to be in perfect condition. It is, if you got him to have some of the bacta in D-Five’s possession.

As you examined him, he remained impassible. Part of you wanted to scrub his skin raw, so you would get some reaction of him.

“It’s nothing.”  

“If you bled then of course it’s something.”

There was a moment of silence between you two. It was obvious he was analyzing you through those thick ginger lashes of him. His cold stare made a shiver ran up your spine.

You guided him to the armchair and forced him to sit down.

“You went to the Syndicate, didn’t you?”

His lack of answer made you get angry with him. You pressed your fingers against the swollen area more forcefully this time, yanking a loud gasp from him. He trapped both of your hands between his and pulled you to him.

“Armitage!”

You were the one to gasp as you fell over him. As if aware he would not let you go, you adjusted yourself over his lap, placing both legs around him and cautious about not letting all your weight press him down. He let go of your hands and touched your face, his thumb over your bottom lip.  

“Until yesterday you would not say my name,” he said. He was so close you could feel his fresh breath. “Today you have said it twice.”

“You did not answer my question,” you reminded him, squirming in his hold. He grimaced, and you recalled he was hurt. “Sorry.”

“I did,” he replied in a low voice. He placed his hands on your waist and leaned against the armchair, his eyes closed. “My ribs will heal. D-Five made me drink some bacta already.”

A relieved sigh left you. You would have to thank the droid later.

“I asked you not to go,” you whispered, running your fingers on his face. His eyes snapped open. “I told you they would do worse next time.”

“You never said why.”

Do I have to?

“Why did you do it?” You barely noticed your palm was on his chest, right over his heart. You could feel his cadenced heartbeats and it somewhat calmed you. “Why did you look for them?”

He took his time to reply.

A gasp left you as you felt his warm hands inside your clothes, his fingers running over your belly and the small of your back. He did not seem interested in taking your clothes off, but the intimacy of the moment made your heart accelerate.

You bit your bottom lip.

“The man who entered our house was not a part of the Resistance,” he said running his fingers through your clothed thighs now. You drew in a sharp breath. His lips were on your neck, lavishing it with kisses and love bites. “He and the stalker were part of the Syndicate.”

This time, you were the one to take your time to reply.

“I thought so.” You did not give him any time to say anything else. “But you paid a too high price looking for them.”

He snorted.

“There is no such high price to keep you safe.”

You barely realized the two of you were now sharing the same air. He moved his lips from your neck and was now almost kissing you. His lips were almost on yours.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, his eyes fixed on your lips. “Kiss me, (Y/N)”.

You did not know what possessed you, but your lips fell on his in a passionate kiss. You bit his bottom lip, seeking entrance, which he gladly conceded. This time, he let you dominate the kiss. Dominate him. Your fingers found their way to his ginger locks and you used the opportunity to angle his head to your better pleasure.

His hands were working to remove your upper clothing. You were so concentrated on his lips — and what you wanted to do with them; where you wanted to have them —, you barely noticed his fingers over your nude skin.

A gasp left the both of you — you from pleasure and he probably from pain — as he forced you to grind against him.   

“I want you,” he whispered when you broke apart. He gave you no time and his lips attacked your neck, biting the skin slightly. His hands moved to your ass, griping you forcefully and set a punishing rhythm between your hips.

A moan left you. Your fingers were on his shoulders, your nails breaking his fair skin. Part of you wanted him to feel pain and stop — for you were not sure you could stop him —, but that only served to yank a groan from him and actually encourage him to remove your bra.    

“I want you so much.”

You did not give him an answer, for his lips were back to yours. You could feel him through his trousers. So. Kriffing. Hard. You knew he could feel how wet you were as well. How needy.

“I know you touched yourself yesterday,” he whispered before enclosing his lips around your right nipple. You felt your face warming all over. How did he know? No, that was the wrong question, why did you do it to begin with? All coherent thought left you when he nibbled your left pearl with a bit of force — the right being manipulated by his expert fingers — and later blew some air into it. “I know you want me too.”

“I do,” you admitted in a whisper. Your breath heavy against his ear. “But we can’t. You’re hurt.”

The General let you go. Begrudgingly but he did — he always respected your wishes, even if he wanted nothing but to continue what you were doing. You stepped away from him, both arms covering your breasts; they were smeared with his saliva. It made you shudder.   

He watched you through narrowed eyes. He, too, was breathing heavy. It was not needed to look down to know how tight his trousers were. You felt it before — and you did not know why you stopped him when all you wanted was to feel him inside deep of you — there was no need to see it.   

“That’s not the only the reason.”

You furrowed your brows. Your heart was thundering in your chest. You shook your head and stared at his face — you did not realize you were actually staring at his… well… cock. You licked your lips and shifted your attention back to his eyes. His pupils were full blown with lust.  

“Of course it is,” you whispered, this time staring at the floor with interest. A gasp left you when he approached you, his warm fingers running over your arms and removing them from over your breasts. He did not touch you in such way — mindful of your earlier request —, but he lifted your chin, forcing you to face him. You bit your bottom lip as his hands found their way to your nude waist and pulled you to him.   

“You’ve been avoiding me, because, in truth, we’ve never been intimate.”

 A/N - Okay, that will be all for today. I hope you have liked this chapter. And until... Well, I hope I can update soon xD Both the earlier chapters of LTM and new chapters as well xD Ah, I know some things are not exactly what happened in canon, but keep in mind that it’s canon divergence, so I chose some things from his past to best match this story okay?

[kumeko]

ghost in the shell

Character/Pairing: Aikoto—Aigis, Makoto

A/N: Wrote this for the @aikotozine. I’m not 100% happy with it but I’ll leave it alone. :/

Summary: Customer #3. Never found without his coffee and his headphones. Always walking straight out of the shop. It was a deviation of the norm that he was standing here, in front of her. Aigis would have to investigate this.

...

...

...

...

“Have you pinpointed the bug yet?”

 “Do you know how much code’s in her? It’ll take months.”

 “We don’t have months! She was supposed to be fully operational by now.”

 “Well, I can’t make it any faster! Why don’t we just reboot the system?”

 -x-

 “French vanilla,” repeat customer #3 requested, his voice almost inaudible.

 From her corner, Aigis could only tell what he asked by reading his lips. Her seat offered her a view of the entire coffee shop, allowing her to study the customers discretely. For the most part, there were no issues but repeat customer #3 always talked quietly, too quietly sometimes for even her sensors to pick it up. From her observations, humans with headphones generally talked at a higher or lower pitch than the norm, but even this was beyond that.

 For that matter, she had never seen him without those headphones. What was he listening to? Other repeated customers would generally take off their headphones while they ordered but he never removed his. Even his hair seemed to get in the way, his long blue-black bangs covering an eye. What sort of human voluntarily deafened and blinded themselves? As though he noticed her stare, he turned to her and gave her a smile.

 That was a deviation from the norm. Aigis put a bookmark on his file.

 -x-

 “Reboot? That’s expensive.”

 “It’d be more expensive to lose her.”

 “We could still lose her—I’m not sure how much data this will wipe.”

 “Do it anyways. We’re behind schedule as it is—the battle’ll be over before we deploy her.”

 -x-

 Social interactions, Aigis had been told, were the point of this exercise. They had filled her with enough knowledge to do almost anything, but she needed to learn how to interact with humans.

 So she spent her mornings in this café, recording people and their behaviours and now repeat customer #3 was sitting across from her. While she could not understand his intentions—lust? Curiosity? Boredom?—this was the next step for social learning.

 If she succeeded at this, then she would be considered complete. Her processors ran through various greetings and she settled on an appropriate one. “Hello. The weather is great.”

 Repeat customer #3 raised an eyebrow and glanced out the window. It was raining. She had picked the wrong starter. Before she could correct herself, he asked, “Do you like the rain?”

 His voice was firmer than she’d expected, considering how soft it was. He slid his headphones off till they rested on his collarbone. Aigis slowly shook her head, remembering the action from the lead scientist. “No.”

 If anything, that confused him even more. He opened his mouth to ask a question and then seemed to think better of it. Slowly, he stirred his coffee as Aigis waited for him to speak. That was how conversations went—each person spoke in turn.

 Unless she had accidentally terminated it. Which was possible, the other scientists often stopped talking after ‘no’ as well. Before she could verify, the repeat customer held out his hand. “I’m Makoto.”

 Makoto. She updated his file, committing his name to memory. “Aigis,” she answered, taking his hand and squeezing it. As he winced, she quickly reduced the pressure of her grip. His skin was more calloused than she’d expected. There were bags under his eyes, a sign of that he needed more sleep.

 “You have a strong grip.” He shook his hand when she released it.

 “I am very strong,” she confirmed. When he didn’t say anything, she considered mentioning her specs. Perhaps he needed to know what alloy—Makoto laughed. Uncertain of how to respond, she stared at him. Had she missed a joke? “Is something funny?”

 “No.” He shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “You’re here every day, right?”

 “Yes. Every morning.”

 “That’s good.” He smiled at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow too, then.”

 -x-

  “Reboot initiated: 10, 9, 8...”

 -x-

 “You don’t like coffee?” Makoto asked as he sipped his usual. “Why are you in a cafe?”

  “Studies,” she responded honestly. For some reason, the café felt emptier than usual—were the walls always so plain?—but Aigis paid it no mind.

 True to his word, Makoto chatted with her daily now. Apparently he was a student though Aigis was not certain if a student should be drinking so much caffeine. There were plenty of studies that mentioned the harm to his health and even the cost benefits of withholding purchases. When she’d brought it up, he had laughed again. Somehow, she was very good at making him laugh. Just like the rest of him, it was quiet laugh. It fascinated her all the same.

 Makoto rested his cheek on his hand. “Are you an exchange student?”

  Aigis considered his question, examining her clothes. The black school uniform was supposed to help her blend in with the locals. “Why do you think I’m a foreigner?”

 “Your hair.” He inclined his head, indicating her blond locks.

 She touched them gingerly. Perhaps she should get them painted over. It was true that her hair colour was not the most common one in this region. “I see.”

 His eyes never left hers and she wondered just who was the observer between them. “What do you study?”

 There were a dozen ways to answer this. She picked the simplest one. “People.”

 A flash of confusion crossed his face before he shrugged. He did that a lot too and she updated her conversation algorithms. Clearly that was not a typical response. “Apathy syndrome? It’s been more frequent lately, hasn’t it?”

 Not quite what Aigis meant but she nodded her head. “The number of customers here has dropped recently.”

 Something flickered across his face, a dark expression she couldn’t quite understand. “It’ll be fixed soon.”

 “How do you know?” She had yet to find any medical records indicating a cure.

 “Just…a hunch.” A lie. Aigis could see it in his body language. Before she could press, he changed the topic, holding out his headphones.  “There’s a band I’m listening to recently. Want to listen?”

 It was an obvious attempt to change the topic. She should follow up on him but her hand reached out for the headphones instead.  It was strange; Aigis found herself doing a lot of illogical things with him. The sound of guitar played as she slid the pair on, a woman talking more than singing along: Dreamless dorm, Ticking clock. “This is nonsense.”

 “Maybe. It’s called Burn My Dread,” Makoto replied, not offended in the least. There was a slight curl of his lips, a softening of his eyes, indications she had learned to recognize as joy for him.

 She listened to the whole song, recording it and adding it to his file.

 -x-

 “…80%, 82%, 86%...”

 -x-

 “Hey, Aigis?” Makoto hesitantly sat next to her.

 He was not normally that shy and she stared at his face. For some reason, it was hard to focus on his features, to find any distinctions. Even his voice sounded off, like an old recording. “Makoto?”

 He gripped his headphones, a nervous tic of his. It was serious then. Important. “There’s something I have to do, to help everyone. To help you.” He swallowed and then looked at her eyes. “I’m not sure if I’ll survive it.”

 “Makoto?”

 “I’ll try to come back to you, Aigis. I lo—”

 Aigis couldn’t hear his voice anymore. There were no lips to read, no expressions to guess off. What little of the café was left had disappeared, leaving only the two of them sitting in a white void. His hands reached out to grip hers but the sensation was lost.

 Before she could reach back, he disappeared.

 -x-

 “All right, reboot complete!”

 “Good, double check her systems.”

 Aigis could hear voices. Soft, indistinct voices, as though they were coming through a filter. Her eyes refused to open and her sensors were off. Briefly, she wondered if she were injured.

 “Looks good. I see no traces of Makoto in her databanks anymore.”

 “I still don’t get it, how did she create a set of false memories? She can’t imagine anything.”

 “A malfunction, probably. Or a virus.”

 “I wonder why the barista only called us now—she must have been talking to herself for months. Oh, sir, you came back in time.”

 A new voice joined the mix. “How is she?”

 Suddenly, Aigis could move again and she opened her eyes. She was in the lab again. “Did I get injured?” she asked. She was not scheduled for a check up.

 “You’re awake.” A man with an eyepatch looked down at her. Kirijo, her data helpfully informed her. “Run diagnostics.”

 Aigis double checked her operations. “No errors to report.”

 “Aigis, do you know anything of a Makoto?”

 “Makoto?” She cross-referenced her data. “A popular name for both male and female Japanese infants. Should I go into more detail?”

 “No, that’s fine.” Kirijo studied her once more. “Perhaps if you were ready to fight in time, we might not have lost him. Maybe it wouldn’t have come to down to this.”

 Confused, Aigis stared. “Ready to fight what?”

 “Nyx, though I suppose that’s no longer important.” He turned to go. “I am sorry for what happened. To Makoto. It’s one thing to die, it’s another to be erased.”

 “Makoto,” she repeated and she wondered how a single word could feel so sad.

 -x-

 Aigis sat in a café, in a booth with the best view of the room. She could see everyone from here and for the most part, hear them as well. It was a good way to learn about social etiquette, the last thing she had to acquire to be complete.

 The barista set down a French vanilla in front of her. “Are you sure you want this?”

 She stared down at the drink. It was meaningless to her, she could not taste it. Despite that, somehow it felt right and she nodded to her. “This is fine.”

 Maybe she could use that to converse with the other patrons. They all had drinks, after all. Aigis sat back and watched as the door opened and a woman stepped in. Faintly, in the back of her head, she heard an electric guitar play.

 I’ll lift my face and run to the sunlight.

 The words comforted her, for some reason. Maybe today she’d try initiating a conversation.

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Trying To Balance With A Part Of Yourself Missing

Pairing: none

Summary: Thor bargains with Odin on Loki's sentence, and he wins. Loki is moved with the Avengers to fix his past mistakes. But Odin's term changes everything, and Loki's foe is not their mistakes, but their self-image.

Warnings: a lot, each chapter has individual ones

Note: when a dialogue of Loki is in bold, he's speaking English. When a line outside of a dialogue is in italics, it's an intrusive thought.

Chapter 3: Losing Control

Chapter summary: Loki takes revenge of Thor for his disrespect, but it doesn't make things better.

Chapter warnings: Gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, internalised racism, intrusive thoughts, periods, panic attacks, nightmares, language, violence, menstruation.

Notes: at this point, I am the Avatar and Loki is a cabbage merchant... I love it

First chapter | Previous chapter | AO3 | next chapter

It takes a few wrong turns and a lot of muttered curses for Loki to admit the harsh truth, they’re lost. Even with Friday’s directions, the corridors are too bright and monochromatic for him to navigate. And with short walls, they have to untangle their horns from somewhere every other step

He stops when he hears Roger’s voice from a room, and stays right behind the door. “Friday, translate, please,” they whisper.

“I would advise you against eavesdropping, Loki,” she argues. Loki rolls his eyes, gaining a sigh from the robot.

“You didn’t say you’d bring him!" Rogers snaps, hot rage barely staying in control.

"Would you accept him if I did? We are heroes, for fucks sake, and I'm their brother, I can't abandon them again, not after what Father did," Thor argues, his anger so visible it slithers in Loki, feeding their own.

"He's blue, I noticed, what's the deal?" Roger huffs. Loki has to hold himself from storming in.

"What's the deal? They've lost their seiðr, their magic. It's his weapon, his armour, a part of who he is, and he was stripped off it! They're not whole," Thor tries to defend him, after daring to use this damned name again? Is he serious?

Loki storms in, ignoring Steve as they glare at Thor. “Are you-you s-s-serious or j-just try-trying to pr-pr-provoke me?” He snarls, feeling Thor’s anger and confusion.

“Brother, I was simply advocating for you,” he explains, Loki doesn’t need his eyes to see Thor’s eyes widening as he pretends to be a hurt puppy.

“You w-w-wish to be-to be my advocate wh-when you d-d-don’t even use my na-name? And you d-d-d-dare to try to s-s-sympathize with my p-pain when your br-br-br-brain cannot gr-gr-gr-grasp what-what I’ve been th-through?” they question, spitting the words without even thinking about them. But the mention of these things makes his stomach drop. No, they refuse to cry, not now that they have to prove they’re not weak. Rogers just watches the show, at least he can understand only a part of the conversation.

“Name? What are you talking about?” he asks, all pretending to be so innocent. Wait, he actually doesn’t know.

“My f-f-file, in 2012. You fill-filled it, and you-you used that-that n-n-n-name on me!” he explains, feeling the last spec of patience running out. Thor’s confusion turns into guilt.

“Father was using it again after your death, twas the force of habit,” he makes an excuse.

Thor’s head slams the wall, the concrete cracking behind him and Loki’s fiery red eyes, crazed with rage, drilling holes in his thick skull. “You w-w-were the-the f-f-first person I t-t-told a-about that fu-fucking name, you know m-m-more than everyone why-why-why I h-h-hate it, and you’ve seen-seen how O-Odin used it on-on me. And yet, you st-st-still p-p-p-put it on my f-f-file because of-of the f-f-force of ha-habit?” they snap, grabbing Thor's throat.

"L-l-listen to me-to me very cl-cl-closely, my name is Laufeyson, and if you e-ever use a-any other na-name than m-mine, I will t-t-t-turn you into an ice st-st-statue, do you understand?" He whispers and releases the grip on the oaf’s throat, leaving a nasty frostbite where his fingers used to be. With half the rage they carried, they turn to Rogers.

"Next t-time you-you wish to-to que-que-question m-m-my st-st-stay, t-t-talk to me ab-ab-about it," he snarls, not even caring enough to do anything more. Rogers stays still, letting them walk away and right into their room.

He closes the door behind him and leans against it, taking a deep breath. Then, they start noticing the pain.

Well, he has gotten a bit mass after transitioning, the chest plate is now squeezing his ribcage, filling him with pains he had almost forgotten, along with the familiar breathlessness and feeling of burning inside this shit. It's probably the warmer room, they'll ask Friday to cool it down if possible…

Then, he notices a second pain, one he wished he could forget. "Fr-Friday, ple-ple-please tell me-me that I'm going i-i-insane," they sigh, hoping that it's anything but the shit they suspect.

"You won't like the answer," she mutters, almost as if she understands. Loki starts cursing under his breath and leaps to the bathroom, still hoping it's just a lie. But the bloody stains prove them wrong, mock them.

It's fine, it's fine. Just a small spell and he can make a pad. It's easy, they've done it countless times before. But, after the spell, nothing appears, how could it? He sighs and covers the stains with paper lying there, only to fetch some old rags and rip them with his fangs, to make something that could hold the flow back.

Before the shapeshifting, whenever hating their breasts and suffering, they would take out the chest plates, only to ease the stinging and pain in the ribs. But today, there's no way he can stay with those shits out. Though, every time they get those after shifting, it's particularly bad, and they still feel like they're burning inside this thing…

Wait, is he also sick? Can they get sick while in this form at all? "Tem-tem-temperature l-l-levels and wh-wh-wh-white bl-bl-bl-blood cell l-l-levels pl-please," he huffs, instinctively wiping away the feeling of sweat from his forehead.

"Your temperature is around a healthy level for humans but high for your biology, white cells are normal and there's no other sign of infection. Tho, there's a high level of testosterone, estrogen and progesterone. In more simple words, it's less like a menstrual cycle and more like an estrous cycle, but not quite," she answers, even though it doesn't help at all with the whole situation.

They let out a groan, remembering again the rib pain. Yes, he won't be able to stand this shit any longer. They sigh and leave the bathroom, trying to get out of this tight leather shit, without looking down and, hopefully, without taking out a huge patch of skin in the process. And yes, it is even harder than it sounds, especially when the pain starts reflecting on his waist as well. Fuck, is there any part of their body that's relatively fine?

Without even daring to look down, he just lays on the bed and covers himself with the blanket, turning around to find a semi comfortable position and getting both the blanket and his hair tangled in the process. And after getting comfortable, they realise it's hot as Hel in there. Great, this edgy monster period is just going great…

"F-f-friday, could you-you c-c-cool down th-the r-room, pl-please?" he sighs, sticking his face out so he can breathe. Friday answers with a yes sir, a name that's enough to bring some joy to Loki, and a low hum starts echoing, almost like a beast sleeping. For some reason, it's soothing.

She's been pretty kind, especially after she messed up the name, even though she didn't know better. No, this one wasn't on her, but on Thor, for putting it there in the first place.

But did Thor deserve getting frostbites on his throat? Or was it too cruel, too monstrous. Well, can Loki even react somehow and don't act like a beast without pretending to be something they're not?

Well, a monster can't do horrible things if you bleed it out. Loki flinches at the thought alone. No, he can't do it. Last time…

"Sir, you're not endangered anymore, please just try breathing and it will pass," Friday speaks. Loki nods, and attempts to take a deep breath in. But their lungs are crushed, refusing to work. So, he tries again and again, with more and more labour, and it hurts more each time. They do this until their lungs are on fire and their eyes watery, sounds between wheezing and sobbing coming out until they shut their mouth with their hand, their stomach clenching and turning inside them.

Then, his vision clears, only for him to see darkness, and faint dots of light here and there. The void, they're falling again. Then, he sees a purple smile, a madman's smile, right before his guts go ablaze.

They have to stop biting their hand in order to cover their mouth, struggling to swallow back as their whole body is going sick. He even feels the acid burning his throat before it stops and lets him breathe and shove the hand back in.

"Sir, you are on the Avengers tower and safe. Do you wish to go through a technique to help you through the grounding?" Friday asks, she probably has some protocol for these situations.

"Yes," Loki breathes out after a few laboured breaths, still waiting for the fire to die out.

"Could you name five things you see?" she guides. Loki frowns, failing to understand where it would help, but still listing things.

"Hand, b-b-bed, fl-floor, w-w-window, closet," they hum, waiting for the next answer.

"Four things you can hear,"

"Y-your voice, the m-machine, my heart, my br-breathing,"

"Three things you can smell,"

"Sweat, dust-dust and… lavender?" he questions after smelling the sheets. It's probably what they're washed with.

"Two things you can touch,"

"The sh-sh-sheets and…" they take their leg out only to stick it against the wall, "con-concrete"

"One thing you can taste,"

"Blood," wait, why does he taste blood? Their teeth are there, they don't have an injury, where's the blood coming from?

He inspects his hand, the one he used to bite, and finds four holes on the base of his thumb, deep blue blood oozing out. "I-I… I th-think I bit-bit m-myself," they whisper, sniffling and wiping away some tears. Was he crying?

"Indeed, sir. Tho, the injury is minor, and was not intended. Do you want me to alert someone?" she asks, to which Loki nods a no. There's no way they're letting anyone see them like this. "Then, something to eat or drink?" she doesn't sound like she'll give up easily, and she might actually alert someone, so Loki asks for some water, only to wash away the acidic feeling in his throat. Some more machines growl and a glass of water appears on the nightstand.

The thought of taking the glass and drinking it feels exhausting, and their bones feel like they are made out of lead as they take the glass to drink the water.

Next thing he knows, he's sleeping again. Falling. Burning as the huge purple lips grin and the blue eyes gleam in mad bliss. And this time, there's no Friday to ground them.

~~~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021