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pitubea1910 · 4 years ago

Text

Cold feet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Featuring: Steve Rogers and Pepper Potts

Words: 1k6

Warning: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, brief mention of domestic violence

Request: -

Tags: -

Notes: a little something that popped in my head today. Hope you like it! Feedback is truly appreaciated :)

Masterlist

To be honest, you never thought you would get married. Growing up and seeing your parents fight every single day, made you stop believing in such thing as ‘true love’, ‘the one’ and ‘forever’. Those remained in the fairy tales.

However, life has a way of proving you wrong. So, there you were, standing in front of the mirror in a white dress, with your hair half up in a beautiful messy but elegant bun. In just an hour you would walking down the aisle, holding onto Tony’s arm, towards the love of your life. James Buchanan Barnes.

It felt like it been a lifetime since you met instead of just a couple of years. You clicked since the beginning and became immediately inseparable. It sounded cliché, but you truly had never felt this way about anyone else. Of course you had ex boyfriends, but none of them had ever made you feel like you could reach the sky just with his touch.

You knew he was special when you first met him, but you never thought he would be so special. And yet, when he proposed a year ago, you were terrified. Memories of your childhood, of your parents fighting every minute of every day, of your dad hitting your mm and attempting to hit you flooded your mind. But you knew Bucky. You knew he wasn’t that person. He was kind, loving, funny and, most important, you loved him with every beat of your heart. You said yes.

“You look beautiful”, you looked at the door and smiled when Pepper walked in.

Tony and Pepper had welcomed you in into their home. Pepper had been really close to your mum so, when she passed, she immediately invited you to move in with them. She had been like a mother all these years and Tony, as unpredictable as he was, had been like a father. If it wasn’t for them, you probably would have never met your future husband.

“I think I’m going to throw up”, you admitted when she closed the door. She chuckled and shook her head.

“You will be fine. Everything will be fine”, she said.

“Everything is ready?” You asked.

“Everything is ready”, she nodded.

You took a deep breath and nodded before walking to one of the windows. From there, you would see the backyard of the manor that Tony had rented. It was in the middle of the woods, two hours away from the city.

At first, you and Bucky considered getting married in the city, but you decided that you wanted all the privacy you could get and you wanted quiet instead of the noise of the city, you wanted nature, you wanted peace. And that’s what you got.

There weren’t a lot of guests since you both wanted a private ceremony. It would be just the team and family. That was all you wanted and needed. You smiled a little when you saw Peter and Happy walking around the backyard while the staff finished getting everything ready. It was happening. You turned around to face Pepper and it surprised you to see tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked suddenly worried, walking over her.

“Nothing”, she said shaking your head. “I was just thinking about your mum.”

You smiled a little and took her hands, squeezing them a little. You had been thinking about your mum for the past few days way more than usual. She had died five years ago and every single day there was something you would like to talk to her about. Today, all you wanted was for her to walk you down the aisle. However, you knew she was with you somehow.

“I miss her too”, you said in a whisper, not really trusting your own voice.

“She would be so proud of you, you know?” She said.

“Stop talking, please”, you chuckled as soon as you felt yourself tear up. “I really don’t want to go through make up again.”

Pepper laughed and nodded before pulling you in for a hug. You were so glad you had her. Just then, there was a knock on the door, so you pulled away.

“Come in!” You said while Pepper carefully rubbed her tears away.

Steve opened the door and walked in. He looked incredibly handsome in that black suit but, to be honest, it only made you think how Bucky would look.

“Hey there”, you smiled and walked over to give him a quick hug, carefully so you wouldn’t wrinkle your dress. “How’s Bucky?” You asked.

Instead of answering straight away, Steve looked at Pepper, which made you suspicious.

“What is it?” You asked.

“He is… a bit nervous”, he said. You narrowed your eyes.

“Define ‘a bit’”, you said.

Steve sighed and looked at you. Luckily, you knew him well enough so he didn’t have to say anything else. Bucky was terrified and getting cold feet. With a sigh, you walked over the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Steve asked.

“To talk to him”, you said.

“You’re not supposed to see him before the wedding”, Pepper said.

“And what do you want me to do? Let him freak out?” You asked raising both eyebrows.

“I can talk to him”, Steve suggested.

“And what have you been doing until now?” You asked. He didn’t reply. “Exactly. Steve, I know you’re his best friend but we all know that I am the only one who truly can calm him down. So I don’t care about traditions or superstitions. Bucky needs me.”

Before any of them could say anything else, you opened the door and walked out of the room. You knew Bucky’s room was on the other side of the manor and you didn’t have much time. Your wedding was in 45 minutes.

Just a few moments later, you were knocking on Bucky’s door and looking around the corridor. You were surprised no one had seen you, but they were all probably finishing getting ready or already outside. Come in, you heard from the inside. Immediately, you opened the door and walked in.

You looked around the room –that looked a lot like yours- to find Bucky sitting next to the window, looking down at the floor, his leg bouncing up and down. He looked up and froze when he saw you, his leg stopped in a second and he got up, looking at you up and down, taking you in.

“You…” he mumbled.

He looked even hotter than what you expected. It had taken you a few weeks, but all the fighting had been completely worth it: Bucky in a tuxedo was breath taking.

In a couple of seconds, he came out of his trance and turned his back to you.

“What are you doing here? It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding”, he said. You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, making him face you.

“You chose a bad time to become superstitious, Barnes”, you said. “Steve told me you were nervous so here I am.”

Bucky sighed and looked away, nibbling on his lower lip. It was a habit that always made you smile. Maybe because it made an enhanced super soldier looks more human than ever and it was one of the parts of him that you loved the most. Softly, you placed a hand on his cheek so he would look at you again.

“Talk to me”, you said. He took a deep breath and leaned against your hand.

“What if it doesn’t work?” He asked.

“Why wouldn’t it work?” You asked.

“I don’t know”, he shook his head. “But… what if I mess up? What if I do something terrible, unforgivable, what if you hate me? What if you regret this and you resent me for the rest of your life? What if I’m not cut out to be a husband or, more importantly, your husband? What if I’m-“

The only way you knew of shutting him up was kissing him and so you did. Bucky immediately closed his eyes and pulled you closer by your waist. When you pulled away, he let out a shaky breath while resting his forehead on yours.

“Take a deep breath”, you told him. It took him a few seconds, but he finally inhaled and exhaled slowly, still not letting you go. “Now look at me”, he opened his eyes and you smiled at him. “We are going to be okay, Bucks”, you said.

“How do you know it?” He asked.

“Because I know us”, you shrugged. “I know all the things you’ve done, I’ve seen you at your worst and you’ve seen me at my worst and here we are. Still loving each other beyond comprehension. I know we won’t regret this because every single day I wake up, I chose you, I chose to love you, I chose to spend my life with you and I wouldn’t want it any other way, because you are my life, Bucky. And about being a husband, well…” you shrugged. “Look at me, I’m not exactly wife material. But I say we work it out as it comes. What do you think?” You asked.

Bucky smiled and pulled you in for a tight hug. You hugged him back, slowly rubbing his back in a comforting way. Then, there was a knock on the door and you both looked at it to see Steve’s head peeking inside.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

You looked at Bucky, searching for an answer. His eyes met yours and he smiled again before nodding and pecking your lips softly.

“Everything okay”, Bucky affirmed.

“Then it’s time for you to go down, pal”, Steve said with a warm smile.

“Then I better go” you said, your heart suddenly beating faster.

“Hey”, Bucky said when you were almost at the door. You turned to look at him. This time, he had a huge smile on his face. “You look gorgeous”, he said with a wink.

“It was about time you said it”, you winked back and left the room.

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears. You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard. The best part? You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main. He might just love you.

alt summary. Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing. jeon jungkook

genre + rating. fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags. long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish), eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch. tags are hard. :(

reading. n/a. a three part one-shot.

word count. ~3400

part i.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019. 2:13 AM.

It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him. He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team. Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.

One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it. Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?

"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"

Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side. He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.

When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company. His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.

"Thanks, you too."

Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen. You have a nice voice, he thinks. "Are you sticking with Widow?"

Jungkook takes in the team comp: Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio. A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable. They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps. Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.

"Should I?"

"If you want." A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait. "I can damage boost."

He thinks he can hear the teasing. It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.

"Who says I need it?" Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help. It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom. He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.

"O—kay, Widow main. We'll see if you get anything from me."

It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him. It's distracting in the strangest way. The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.

"Are you going to join us?" You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper. "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."

Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W. Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it. Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.

As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.

BOOM.

The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.

"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."

He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort. It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs. He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud. "I told you."

"Yeah, yeah." The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement. Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point. "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team. Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."

You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun. Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after.

"Show-off!"

Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot. He needs heals like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point. Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb. "Try to stay alive, yeah?"

"My bad," he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths.

There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left. The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time; the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.

"Thanks for the damage boost."

"Any time."

Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay. He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah. He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.

"Looks like you're really making them mad." You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background.

"I don't know why. I'm just having fun." He's lying. You're laughing.

"Too much fun, I think."

"Maybe they should be better." Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant. It makes your giggles come harder. He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing. He can't help but pat himself on the back.

"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."

Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought. "Of course not. I'm not that rude!"

"Well, you never know." You're right. People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated).

"I promise I'm not an asshole." He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear. After all, he'd probably never play with you again. Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions.

Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is. "I'm just teasing. You seem nice."

"I am nice." Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah. You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee.

"Not according to them." And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight. He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you.

"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack." Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense.

"Who says I'm going Widow again?"

You're scandalized. "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them. He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned. He decides he doesn't really mind, though. It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight.

"Woah - says the Mercy player?"

"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"

"Sure, e-girl."

"Take that back!" How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't. You can take it just as well as you can dish it.

"Okay, okay. You're a not bad healer." Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks. Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes. "Oh, thanks."

"Any time, BigMelon."

"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal." Had he heard you wrong?

"What'd you say?"

There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else. You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound. "Because watermelon? Su-bak? So big melon is dae-bak?" Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.

It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm. Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player?

"You're kidding me." He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think. "What're you - a dad?"

You scoff now, parroting his words back to him. "What're you - the pun police?"

Another one?

He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness. Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place. His silence will surely speak volumes.

"You know that was funny!" By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.

"Not the word I'd use."

"You just have bad taste, McCree." You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal.

"Do not!" He returns, just as quickly.

"Prove it. Laugh at my joke!" You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.

You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his. It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls. He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p.

"Hey - stop that!" It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him. He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line.

The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.

"Stop distracting me!" He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably. He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling.

As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three. When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen. Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.

"We did it, McCree." You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested. The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums; Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view. One of your tanks is already emoting.

VICTORY flashes across his screen.

"We sure did, BigMelon."

The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised. You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime. He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.

"Thanks for the carry." He doesn't mean it facetiously. This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.

"You're welcome," you chirp. He thinks you'll leave right after.

Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner.

"Do you want to duo?" You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter. It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.

Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019. 11 PM.

It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.

“Most people call me Jinny.” He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy. “What’s your name?”

Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be. Of course you’d want to know. Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.

He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat. He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.

"Uh." The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.

"You don't have to tell me," you supply as softly as he's ever heard you. It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason. "I get that we haven't known each other that long."

As if that's actually the issue. He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter. He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500. He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.

It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.

But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can. "My friends call me Jay."

"Jay, huh?" You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it. He hopes you don’t hate it. "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."

"Woah, we?" He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game. You never make good on the threat anyway; you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits. "I don't think I agreed to that."

It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy. "Fine. You can find yourself a new healer. We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"

Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.

"No! Don't leave me with them!" The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.

Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations. It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight. It’s, oddly enough, with you.

Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home. It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.

Different, but nice.

"Fine. You're forgiven." You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly. "How was your day?"

And this is why it is - because it's ordinary. It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea. He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders. He's just a normal guy playing games.

It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.

He eats it up like he's been starved of it.

"Busy. Really busy. I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now." There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully. He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.

It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing. He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.

"You should make something to eat!"

He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair. "But we're in queue."

"Jay!" It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.

"I'll make something after we win." He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night. You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.

As if right on cue: "Shut up!"

Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning; lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes. Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.

It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.

He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever. Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark. The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples. You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.

There's just something about you.

And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else). Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him. Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?

Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star. Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.

But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.

Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

notes. i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk. what more can i say? :)

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kasey-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Note

Maybe 30 with karlnap for the prompt thing

Forgive me if this is terrible I’ve only written karlnap once but I hope you enjoy!

Can you... tickle me?

Karl and sapnap had been hanging out in real life for about three days now and with Karl’s love language being touch it was no surprise to find them cuddled on the couch (platonically) as they watched anime together. Now you see though Karl’s love language being touch means many different things, it means he love hand holding and hugs, it means he loves forehead, cheek and top of the head kisses and many other things but one of the biggest but lesser brought up things it means is.... he sometimes likes being tickled... Now this one he wasn’t as open about because he couldn’t help but find it a bit embarrassing I mean come on the stereotypical reaction most people have to tickling is that they don’t like it so of course he’s going to be a little self conscious... Anyways so here they lay cuddled and watching anime it’s one Karl has already seen so he knows most of what happens but it has been a while so... oh boi is he in for a shock when a tickle scene shows up...

A tickle scene suddenly starts and Karl immediately starts blushing and has to try so hard not to squeak and cover his face... in his head he’s repeating to himself “it’s okay just act natural, you’re fine it’s just a t-t.... it’s just a scene...” sap is laid beside him the tickle scene pretty much just being another scene to him but he notices Karl tensing up slightly and how his face is red “Yo Karl you good?” Karl lightly turns to look at him “what? Huh? O-oh oh yea I’m f-fine!” Sapnap raises an eyebrow and says “are you sure because you seem rather tense and red” Karl tries to untense himself and act casual as he says “y-yea yea no I’m sure I’m fine!” He forces on a wobbly smile as sap sighs and grabs the remote pausing the show “Karl obviously you are not fine, so what’s wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable somehow or something because I’m really sorry if I did”

Karl gasps a bit and says “oh gosh no no no! It’s not that! You didn’t do anything! It’s just that uh.... it’s just uh... you know how my love language is touch right...?” Sapnap nods “yea go on” Karl takes a little breath as he says “Well part of touch being my love language is... I like t-ti-t-tickling....well mainly I like to be.... you know.... and so whenever I see scenes with it.. I j-just I get all embarrassed and flustered....” sapnap smiles softly with the kindest eyes as he says “awe Karl that’s so cute” Karl looks at him with pure wonder in his eyes “d-do you really mean it?” Sapnap’s smile widens as he says “of course I mean it I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t!” Karl’s smile widens as he hugs sap burying his face into his chest for a few moments before breaking away...

“Uh hey sapnap...” “yes karl?” “Um would you mind? Could you maybe? Can you uh.... t-tickle me...” Karl instantly covered his bright red face though his blush was already spreading to ears.... Sapnap grinned as he says “Of course karl! Anything to make you happy! So how do you wanna do this?” Karl smiled shyly as he says “uh I’m not sure actually... I guess we can move to the floor and you can either sit beside me or sit on my waist... whatever you prefer....” Sapnap nods and smiles as him and Karl head to the floor

Karl lays his head softly on a pillow from the couch as he fidgets a bit waiting for sap to decide what approach he wants to take... sap decides to start out sitting beside Karl and pokes his sides lightly a few times to just gauge his reaction, Karl squeaks at every poke his arms almost instantly coming down to instinctively protect the area “EEK SAP EEK HA EEK!” Sapnap giggles a bit as he says “I’m definitely gonna have to hold those up aren’t I?” He smirks softly as he holds both of Karl’s wrists in one hand as his other gently resumes poking at Karl’s sides resulting in more squeaks and eventually giggles to sputter out as sap begins wiggling his fingers on his sides “shahahahahapppyyyy ehehehehe...” sap grins “awe does it tickle Karl? Are you ticklish?” Karl squeals a bit in embarrassment as he says “Eee! Sappy no don’t tease!” Sap pouts playfully “but Karl it’s not teasing if it’s the truth!” He then speeds up his pace beginning to squeeze at Karl’s sides causing for him to squirm around as he breaks into laughter “AAAH SAHAHHAhahahhapppyyy! Ahahaha!” Sap simply grins more “you’re pretty ticklish here karl but I wonder where your worst spot is hmmm... you wanna tell your old pal sappy nappy where your worst spot is?” Karl shakes his head giggling “noohhoo!”

Sap sighs and shakes his head “alright then guess I’ll just find it for myself then....” He moves his hands to Karl’s ribs gently massaging the bones causing for Karl to burst into loud laughter “AAH SHAHHAHAHPPP NOOHOOTT TTHEHEHEHRRRHEHEHHE!” “Oh bad spot here hm? I think I’ll stay here just a little while then” He smiled as he continued massaging the bones for a few moments before deciding to scratch in between them lightly which oh boi caused Karl to absolutely shriek before falling into silent laughter! So sap only kept up the attack there for a few more short moments before stopping to giving Karl a break, “had enough yet” Karl giggled residually as he contemplated for a moment and then shook his head no “j-juhuhust ahahaha little mohore somewhere elehesehehe please...”

sap nodded and smiled “where to then?” Karl thought for a moment before saying “can you.... my uh my knees are really bad and my thighs... but after that can we cuddle and you... you give me neck...you know...” spa sighed softly at Karl’s cuteness lightly ruffling his hair “of course” Karl smiled happily as sap let go of his arms moving to sit down by his legs... Sap carefully squeezed Karl’s right knee and the reaction was instantaneous! Karl let out a Yelp before his leg came flying up nearly hitting sap in the nose “AAAH!” Sap giggled “okay I am definitely gonna have to sit on your ankles or something so I won’t get hurt is that okay?” “T-thhats fine...” sap gently sat on Karl’s shins smiling at him “in 3..2........1....go!” Sap began rapidly squeezing Karl’s knees causing for Karl to let out a series of shrieks, yelps and screams before falling into his loudest laughter yet as his feet uselessly kick out behind sapnap and his hands cover his face in an effort to muffle his laughter! “AAAAAAAHHHHH AHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!” Sap’s eyes widen “wow just when I didn’t think you could get more ticklish” he smirks a bit and moves up to Karl’s thighs and the volume stays the same but the octave raises a few notches! A few more moments pass and sapnap hears the hoarseness and gently slows to softly scratching at Karl’s thighs leaving him giggly and squeaky before he eventually fully stops and helps him stand up pulling him into a hug before guiding him to the couch, sap lays in the back being big spoon as usual as Karl gets comfy as little spoon... sap gently runs his blunt nails along Karl’s neck leaving him to fall asleep giggling

And so sapnao eventually fell asleep as well the two cuddling happily as ever

#ticklish #tickling #mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #karlnap #karl jacobs #sapnap #lee! Karl #ler! Sapnap

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA 6th Popularity Poll Reaction Post - Risky Spoiler-Dodging Edition

hey guys, so seeing as the results from the 6th popularity poll were leaked today, I figured I would do a separate reaction + analysis post this year, rather than piling it in as an extra on top of the chapter reaction post tomorrow. I figure this makes more sense anyway, since they’re really two completely different things. also this way I can write as much as I want lol.

also, just fyi, I am still completely unspoiled for chapter 293. and probably the smart thing to do to keep it that way would be to log off tumblr and hold off posting this until tomorrow, but I apparently have no impulse control today so oh well. anyway, so I’m hoping you guys will keep this spoiler-free if you don’t mind! as always, I would prefer to just jump right in completely unaware tomorrow like Troy returning to the study room with the pizza boxes lol.

okay so this first part is just going to be my predictions. fyi I am writing this part on Wednesday night, and then I’ll add on the results part on Thursday or Friday (ETA: Thursday, apparently, since I am impatient.)

okay so first of all, just as a refresher, this poll was open to Japanese voters from Aug 3 to Sep 30. meaning chapters 279 through 285. meanwhile last year’s poll took place around the tail end of the MVA arc. so between then and now we had Heroes Rising, the Endeavor Agency arc, and the War arc up to the part where the 1-A kids took on Gigantomachia in Gunga, and started battling Tomura in Jakku. so technically only a couple of arcs, but a LOT of stuff going down in them. oh and season 4 of the anime as well

so! firstly, I predict that my truculent africanized honeybee son will hold on to his crown at #1, coming off a year in which he did some internship-boosted soul searching, borrowed OFA in movie canon, and finished out the voting period as the my-body-moved-on-its-own character development MVP. like CALL ME CRAZY lol, but I’m pretty sure his title is safe. and then after him will be Deku and Shouto as usual

Aizawa should hopefully also have a strong showing because the dude had a banner fucking year. reunited with his old dead friend, took on Tomura with his hopelessly inept hero pals, and then chopped his fucking leg off. he had better be in the top 10. his fucking leg died for this, idk what else he has to do

Endeavor also stands a decent chance of doing well given the internship arc and the final episode of season 4. which I’m sure will go down just swimmingly if that does happen lmao. especially if he somehow manages to rank higher than...

Dabi, which I don’t think he will btw, but you never know. anyways though, but I’m thinking Dabi’s going to have a stronger showing than in past years (in the last poll he only got 367 votes and was ranked 19th). mostly because of his fight in the Gunga mansion, and his cheekily censored name reveal to...

Hawks, who is also going to rank pretty high here, I think. might be he loses some points for killing off Twice, but his back was basically to the wall there. and he has always been very popular, and I think season 4 will also give him a boost, along with his heavy involvement in the first half of the War arc

Tomura was already in 6th place last year and I think he cracks the top 5 this year. he’s gotten exponentially more popular since the MVA arc, and got a boost in the last poll even though his flashback had only just barely happened, and he hadn’t finished Awakening yet and all that stuff. anyway, so he’s only gotten cooler and more tragic since then so I think he makes a big play here

Kirishima, Momo, Tokoyami, and Mina should also hopefully do well, since the poll opened right in the middle of all that Gigantomachia action, and Toko had just got done being an absolute badass and protecting his birb dad. I don’t think he’ll quite make it to the top ten, but he should

and last but not least, I’m hoping that Mirko will come out and take the polls by storm, although I have no clue how popular she is in Japan lol. she’s clearly Horikoshi’s favorite though. she SHOULD be everyone’s favorite, but I mean, we’ll see how it goes

anyway that’s it as far as predictions! and so now, through the magic of writing stuff at different times, we will fast-forward to the part where we actually find out the results!

OH MY GOD YES, STEAMPUNK KHLKSLLKL. HERE FOR IT. JOLLY GOOD SHOW. 5 STARS

Kacchan looks SO COCKY and SO HAPPY and SO ADORABLE, YES I SAID IT. he is adorable as FUCK. I don’t quite know what it is about this particular Kacchan that just screams “LOOK HOW FUCKING CUTE MY STUPID, LOUD SON IS WITH HIS BIZARRE WINDOWPANE-LOOKING CONVERTIBLE SUNGLASS GOGGLES and his POORLY TIED CRAVAT”, but I think it’s because he looks like if a Digimon character and a FMA character had a baby

anyway, so it looks like most of the people present here are more or less who we expected to see. except that I can’t tell for sure if that’s Dabi or Shindou, and if it’s Shindou I’m going to punch somebody in the face so you will have to excuse me

Iida wearing a TRENCHCOAT and a TOP HAT with ENGINE EXHAUST GOGGLE ACCENTS is my new favorite Iida of all time. take note how there is no possible way he can wear those goggles with them sitting on top of his hat like that. plus he’s already got glasses on. these are just purely for aesthetic and IF THAT AIN’T JUST THE STEAMPUNK WAY

Deku out here speaking softly and carrying a lead pipe. Kacchan you best look out. seems like he’s done watching you take first place year after year while he languishes in the number two spot. your only hope is that he trips while attacking you because his boots are unbuckled

Shouto’s standing over there with the rest of the non-first-and-second-place characters, but what are the odds his results are actually within spitting distance of Deku’s same as always. anyway he doesn’t mind, though. also his outfit is by far the most sensible one here, but if you look closely he’s got some sort of fire extinguisher/jet pack thing strapped to his back that’s got a control switch on his belt. Shouto are you jetpacking or putting out fires

Kirishima out here all “I’m not sure what steampunk is so I’m just going to take off my shirt and pose”

AIZAWA WITH THE EYEPATCH SKLKSDLKFJLSKJLDFKJSLDFFJLDKSJFL:KS. SIR. SIR. also, lowkey furious that Horikoshi refuses to show us the automail leg that he is clearly sporting here but which we just can’t see, SHOUTO MOVE GODDAMMIT

Endeavor has TWO fire extinguisher-slash-jetpacks. THE BETTER TO... WHATEVER. look at you here in the top ten again. you really live for that controversy

HAWKS OUT HERE WITH HIS STEAMPUNK BEATS BY DRE AND HIS WEARING A RING ON EVERY FINGER. nice to see you’ve still got your wings there, kiddo. then again Deku still has both of his arms too so who even knows what is going on

BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH, IS THIS DABI OR SHINDOU. as if I don’t know the truth deep down in my heart. y’all I am gonna flip lmao. it’s not that I dislike Shindou, strictly speaking. but just... I can’t explain what it is, but if you put him and AFO next to each other and told me “you can only punch one”, I would be having a serious crisis. just, THIS FUCKING GUY, idek. STOP SMILING

Tomura looks like he just wandered onto the set here by mistake and has no idea where he is or what is going on. it’s because you’re wearing a bigass severed hand that’s blocking your entire view, Tomura. just take the hand off your face my sweet murder dumpling

anyway! so I managed to also find a link to the full poll results while somehow managing to avoid spoilers, and then I wanted to compare the results to last year’s poll, and so I made... this

hopefully you can all see this. if you’re on desktop you might be screwed, but on mobile you should be able to click and enlarge it. I mean, assuming you actually give a fuck about boring poll analysis spreadsheets lmao

anyway, so there were actually 13k fewer votes cast this year which is a bit of a surprise. is the series not still growing in popularity? do people apparently have better things to do during their quarantine lol

anyways but despite this, and despite getting 8k fewer votes overall, Kacchan still managed almost twice as many as his closest competitor. well fought, Deku. please put down that pipe

I somehow always underestimate the power of ship popularity to influence these things. but for example, it looks like Present Mic got that Vigilantes Trio bump. ride that wave for all it’s worth my man! hell, you got me on board

Iida fucking Tenya somehow got some sort of POWER BOOST out of NOWHERE which I can’t explain at all lmao, but I’m here for it. NOT BAD FOR AN OLD MAN

Sero managed to get the exact same number of votes in both 2019 and 2020. clearly the most loyal fans in the business

Mirko being all the way down at #20 is, of course, a travesty, and I hereby nominate her to be the one to punch Shindou in the face

ngl though, the lack of a single female character in the top ten hurts just a bit. it’s not overly surprising, but still. the worst part of it is that even if you kicked Shindou to the curb and moved everyone else up one slot, it would still be all dudes since Mic beat out Momo by a margin of a little more than a hundred votes. hard to stay mad at Mic for too long, though. ah well

Tomura actually lost a bunch of votes which is a genuine surprise to me. I know the villain standom isn’t as dominant in Japan as it is in Western fandom, but still. you can go ahead and punch Shindou too I guess

Tokoyami lowkey doubled his vote count over the past year while hiding down there at #18. he is slowly becoming more powerful. biding his time

anyway so I think that’s it! I mean not really, but I’m getting kind of tired lol. so just, you know, insert the usual gripes at Overhaul’s ranking here, although we can be happy about Magne making her way onto the list (r.i.p.), and Mineta and AFO taking a very satisfying slide down (all the way out, in AFO’s case; good riddance you bum). Hadou also got a huge boost which is awesome. Mustard’s persistent ownership of the #36 spot will forever remain a mystery to me, but oh well

anyways, this was fun. and I really do feel like everyone is looking away on purpose so that when Deku brains Kacchan with that pipe in about two seconds from now, there will be no witnesses, oh my fucking god

#bnha 293 #bnha popularity poll #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #aizawa shouta #shigaraki tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

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Until the End of the World - 13

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2085

Rating: E

Warnings: pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 13

The paperwork was all put in to adopt Geo. Steve had put his lawyers on it, petitioning to allow both he and Bucky to go onto the birth certificate as adoptive parents, while you also kept your legal rights as a parent too. The lawyers had said for everyone not to get their hopes too high, it was hard to be the precedent, but they were on it. Bucky hoped it worked. He read that in Canada there had been not only a lesbian couple that had been allowed to have both mothers and the donor father listed on the birth certificate of a child, but also a polyamorous family with two fathers and a mother all listed as parents on their child’s birth certificate too.

Bucky hoped that maybe if both he and Steve could adopt Geo, it would lead to both being listed on their little girl’s birth certificate too. He hadn’t brought up his idea to go to Canada to have the baby yet. It might be a little much to convince Steve to have a Canadian baby considering who he was. But he might if it meant they could both be listed as her parents.

For now, Bucky would keep his fingers crossed and hope that the world might just surprise him and accept him and his family for what they were, even if maybe that was more than he’d earned yet. There were other things to worry about.

The apartment was finally finished and you, Steve, Bucky, and Geo were moving your things back in. It wasn’t a huge job, as almost everyone’s belongings had stayed in the apartment and just been covered in drop sheets while the work was done. But still, there were clothes and Geo’s toys and random miscellaneous items that had drifted to the guest apartment they’d been using while construction had been underway. Not to mention, even though all their things were there, the new rooms were empty and things needed to be reorganized to fit the space.

Bucky and Steve were in charge of moving the larger things, while you and Geo did smaller runs back and forth with clothes and toys and went about putting up pictures in new places and spreading out nicknacks.

“The baby doesn’t have a bed yet,” Geo said as nosed around the rooms, trying to get a feel for the new space.

The nursery had been done. It was painted a light purple and Steve had been spending some of his free time painting a forest mural on one wall, but aside from the furniture they’d had built-in, like the wardrobe and sets of drawers, the room was still completely empty.

“We wanted to wait until the place was ready before we bought any,” Steve answered, ruffling Geo’s hair as he passed him in the hall, one large bag hefted over his shoulder. “Did you want to go out and help us pick when we do that?”

Geo shrugged. “I don’t mind. I wanna buy her some toys.”

“We can do that,” Steve agreed.

You came out of the bedroom and dragged the drop sheet off one of the couches, before flopping down on it.

“You okay, babe?” Bucky asked, stopping near you with his arms full of clothes.

“Yeah. Just my back is aching and the baby is kicking me so much,” you complained.

“Let me just put this down and I’ll come and rub your back,” Bucky said, carrying the things into the bedroom and dumping them on the bed. He came back out and removed the drop sheets from all the furniture and took a seat beside you. “Can you get in a comfortable position?”

You got on your knees and leaned over the arm of the couch, resting your head on your arms. Bucky began to gently work out the tension in your lower back. Steve came back through the room followed by Geo as Bucky began to feel your muscles relaxing.

“Maybe it’s a good time for a break anyway,” Steve said. “Do you want a drink?”

“Lemonade, please,” you half-moaned.

Geo sat down on the recliner and popped it out. He was still quite small and in the large chair, he looked tiny. His legs barely went over the side even when it wasn’t in the recline position. He grabbed his tablet and immediately began playing a game with FRIDAY. His eyes flickered as he communicated with her using his technopathic abilities.

Steve bought over a tray with a jug of lemonade and five glasses. “Do we want to order lunch in?”

“Yes, please,” you moaned.

“Maybe you should rest and Bucky and I will finish unpacking,” Steve suggested.

“Gee, thanks for volunteering me, pal,” Bucky teased, earning a soft laugh from Steve.

Steve grabbed his phone and started to flick through it. “What are we feeling? Subs? Something from a deli? Something a little more hearty?”

“I’m feeling sandwich and soup, and a pickle on the side,” you said.

“I’m fine with that,” Bucky said, his hands sliding up your back a little while he massaged you.

“Geo?” Steve said. “You want soup and a sandwich?”

“Mac and cheese, please,” he answered without looking up.

Steve chuckled. “Always have to make things difficult. I’ll see what I can find.”

He tapped around on his phone for a little while before he found somewhere and then handed his phone to you. You added some things to the cart, while Bucky massaged you. “What are you feeling, Bucky?” You asked, holding the phone for him to see.

“The Italian and-” his eyes flicked over everything as you scrolled down. “-the loaded baked potato.”

You added them and sent the order in. Bucky kept massaging you back and for a while that the only sounds in the room were the hum of the aircon, the tap of Geo’s fingers on the screen of his tablet, and the groans you would make when Bucky hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Eventually, you seemed to tire of the position you were in and you sat back, and put your feet in Bucky’s lap. He immediately began to rub your feet.

“The good news is, we’re nearly done with the big things,” Steve said. “We still have to spread out into the extra space, but there’s no rush to do that.”

“That’s good. Your daughter is kicking the hell out of me,” you said.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Steve said. “And she’s a little super soldier.”

“Yeah, be careful she doesn’t break one of your ribs,” Bucky said and ran his hands up your leg and pressed it against your stomach.

“How am I supposed to be careful?” You snarked, moving his hand so it was in a better position. No one else had been able to feel the kicks yet but this was a normal routine for the family. You’d tell them you could feel the baby. Steve or Bucky would put their hand on your stomach. You’d move it to the spot you could feel them, and then nothing would happen. Bucky lived in hope though. It had to happen sooner or later. “She’s inside me. What can I do to stop her?”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Nothing with that attitude.”

He sat back and pressed his metal hand down against the baby bump where you held it.

He wasn’t particularly fond of his metal arm. Sure there was this objective part of him that appreciated the technology. It was very advanced, even for today’s standards for prosthetics, and he had always been a big fan of technology. He appreciated that it allowed him to function easily. He could get by without it and had done for a while and despite the fact, his hair would get caught in it from time to time, it did make it easier to do things like washing his hair and fastening the buttons on his clothes.

However, there were a lot of issues too. It was heavy for one. He had to lean to the right to compensate, which made his back ache on the best of days and meant his gate was a little off, and if he had to do a lot of walking or running, his hips would be screaming at him by the end of the day. The new one was lighter but it still wasn’t as light as his flesh and blood arm. The way it connected to his body caused problems too. He wasn’t exactly sure they were all physical problems, or just in his head, but the way the skin rubbed against metal was irritating, and he knew, at least originally, HYDRA hadn’t cared about him, just the arm, so the connections weren’t the best, and they hurt all the time, sometimes sending painful spikes right to his head. He used to scratch at it a lot like he was trying to dig the metal out of his flesh. The problem was, all that should have been fixed with the new one, but he still felt it from time-to-time and he’d still find himself stretching at it.

It was how it made him feel about himself that was the worst. Even though this was a new arm, it served as a constant reminder of what had happened to him. It was an ever serving trigger to his past torture and enslavement. It meant that he was never going to be a person first. It was always the weapon, and then the person. If he ever got too comfortable in his place at home with you and Steve he just had to look at his arm and remember, he wasn’t a boyfriend and a father. He was a weapon who was lucky enough to have something to come home to.

It was advanced though. He could hold it against your stomach and feel the texture of the fabric of your clothes and the slight movement of your body shifting under him. He didn’t exactly know how they’d made it so he had such fine control and was able to perceive touch with it, but it worked. Not as well as his real hand, but enough that he would use either when testing fruit for ripeness, or the temperature of water. He’d never really appreciated that before. But when he felt that press from inside you as the baby kicked, he had never appreciated that prosthetic arm more.

“Was that her?” He asked, sitting up quickly. “I didn’t just glitch did I?”

Steve moved so fast that one second he was over on the recliner and the next he was on his knees beside you. “You felt her?”

“She did kick there, so … yes?” You answered.

Bucky switched hands, pressing down on your stomach. It was like the baby pushed back against him, trying to repel the thing intruding on her limited space. “I felt her. It’s soft, but I can feel her.”

Steve pushed Bucky’s hand out of the way and pressed his hand where Bucky’s had just been. It took a moment but Bucky saw exactly when their daughter kicked because Steve’s face lit up from within. So much happiness and love and excitement were written on his features. He leaned down and pressed his forehead on your stomach. “Hey in there,” he whispered. “Are you giving your mommy trouble?”

Bucky looked over at Geo. “G, you want to feel the baby kicking?”

Geo looked up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, bud,” you said, waving him over. “Come feel your sister.”

He slid off the recliner and came over, Steve made room for him and guided the little boy’s hand to the stop on your stomach where the baby was kicking. He looked down furrowing his brow. “Does it feel like a little bump?” Geo asked.

“Yeah, like a twitch. She’s still very very small,” you explained.

“I feel it,” he said grinning. “That’s my sister?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you said.

“You think she’s giving you a high five, bud?” Bucky asked.

Geo giggled and nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

Bucky chuckled and rubbed Geo’s arm. It was strange, he hated his metal arm, and yet, it was what drew Geo’s attention that day he met you, and now it was the one that felt the baby kick first. It was a sign of so many things that were taking from him, and now it was bringing him new, amazing things. Maybe he could start seeing it for the positives too.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #until the end of the world

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starculler · 3 years ago

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Whumptober 2021: Day 5

Word Count: 6042 || Read on Ao3

Tags/Warnings: Star Wars, Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine Ahsoka Tano, Rex, Mace Windu, Violence, Implied Torture, Fake Death, loss of limb (fingers)

Another one in by the skin of my teeth lol.

Anakin nodded at the pair of clones, red and white clad troopers from the Coruscant Guard, stationed in front of the outermost doors to the Chancellor’s suite as he strode past and inside to the office they’d always met in. The grand room, and the hall before it, looked as it always had during any of his visits: haloed in the sun’s light and filled with any number of priceless artifacts and fine, if simply constructed, furniture. And all of it painted a bright, rich red from floor to ceiling that gave way to the raised, warm gray flooring nearer the windows. He stopped before that raised section, hands fisted and trembling beneath the larger sleeves of his dark brown robe, and looked up, past the stairs and chairs and desk at its very center to the Chancellor himself, smiling placidly down at him.

“Anakin, my dear boy,” the Chancellor greeted, pleased, and it was all Anakin could do not to scream. “I wasn’t expecting you, but please come. Take a seat. I always have time for a friend.”

“My apologies, Chancellor,” he said neutrally. He offered a shallow bow, jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. It hurt to breathe, a vice wrapped around his chest and squeezing his lungs so painfully tight he thought he might suffocate on the spot. “We just got back from a” — horrible nightmare, he thought and only a hitch in his breath to give it away —“campaign in the Outer Rim. I thought the resupply was also a good excuse to give my Padawan and I some time to rest planetside. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important.”

“Not at all.” Pal— The Chancellor, shook his head, smile still in place, if a little tighter when he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk and said, again: “Please. Sit. How is your padawan doing? Last we spoke, you sounded quite frustrated. Understandable, of course,” he said, amiable and sympathetic. “Teenagers, especially her age, can be difficult, though I have no doubts that you’re doing your best.”

Anakin walked up the four steps to the platform and not an inch closer even as he offered a tight smile of his own. He tasted sour bile in the back of his mouth to hear the man so much as mention Ahsoka, even if he’d kept her name out of his mouth. Still, he bobbed his head in acknowledgment of the question and answered.

“She’s doing good, Your Excellency. I think we’ve come to understand each other a little better since the last time I was able to speak with you.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” said the Chancellor, sounding, to Anakin’s ears, just a fraction displeased at the news.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”

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

They’d lost so many men.

Ahsoka hadn’t been able to purge that haunting sight from her since they’d hobbled back to the Resolute, victorious but silent. The bodies of men she’d slowly grown closer to lived on the backs of her eyelids, there to see every time she closed her eyes. All of them left behind like so much trash, unburied and with no time to mourn them as they hurried on to the next planet. The next battlefield. The next slaughter.

She shuddered, huddled up in a deserted corner of the ship — so deep in that she’d lost track of where exactly she’d walked — as far from everyone else as she’d been able to manage. Misery clung to her, sticking and ugly, and she knew. She knew it was worse for the men who’d lost their brothers. Their friends. So she sat alone, the tears long-dried on her cheeks, not wanting to interrupt or take up space she didn’t deserve. They weren’t her brothers, but they’d been her men for almost a year and she cared. More than she probably should.

“Hey, Snips.”

She jerked, eyes wide, not having heard her master coming down the corridor. He smiled, a wan, withering thing. Nothing at all like the usual bluster and brightness he showed off in front of everyone. She said nothing as he sat, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees, in front of her. He looked so tired. Stressed. He hadn’t been the neatest or most put-together looking Jedi she’d ever met, but he’d grown slowly worse since their last trip to Coruscant.

“Hey,” she said, voice duller than she’d meant it to be.

“How’re you holding up?” She considered the question. Considered lying, but…

“Not… not great.” Anakin hummed, but didn’t interrupt. She didn’t dare look at him as she spoke, not wanting to see how he felt about what she admitted. “I just— I don’t know—” She hooked her fingers into the thick, white fabric of her leggings and pulled her legs in closer. “I wanted to be a Jedi so bad.” She hated how she choked on the words, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “I still do, really. But. But there’s just so much—

“It’s awful,” she whispered and startled when an arm settled over her shoulder and pulled so she was pressed tight to her master’s side. Wrapped up in her roiling emotions as she’d been, she hadn’t even noticed him move. She sniffled, turning to hide her face in his dark tunic. “There’s so much death, master. So much pain. I feel it all the time and I. I don’t know how to—”

The words died in her throat, smothered by an awful sob half-muffled by her master’s warmth. He rubbed her shoulder as she cried, pulled in as close as either could physically manage.

“How do you do it, Master,” she croaked once she’d mostly calmed. “How do you not care so hard?” She felt him still next to her, almost a flinch. Before she could apologize, take the words and this moment back and flee to her room, he answered, his own voice low and soft. Gentle.

“You never stop, Snips. You just … learn. You put it aside when you’re needed, and work through it when you’re not.” He sighed. “I’m not— Well. You know I’m not always great with my emotions, not like Obi-Wan or some of the other Masters.” She nodded in the lull, waiting for him to gather himself. “But the worst of it, the parts that’d only hurt you or the men to see? I keep it locked in a little box with an old fashioned lock and key, stashed away until I have time to meditate or process or even just when I work on a ship or droid.

“Every time we come back from a campaign and I count how many we’ve lost, I feel it so hard I think I’ll never breathe again. Usually, I’ll rely on Obi-Wan if it’s bad enough and he knows he can lean on me if he needs it. You, my young Padawan, can come to me any time you need to,” he said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Anytime. Any reason. Even if it’s just to sit quietly together.”

Ahsoka nodded, not feeling better but not quite as alone either.

“Can we meditate?” She asked, voice trembling and tiny.

“Of course,” he said. Neither of them moved, not just yet.

“Hey Skyguy?” Anakin hummed a response. “You can count on me too, if you want.”

He said nothing for a long moment, and she saw his other hand twitch from the corner of her eyes — a brief motion, there and done.

“I know,” he murmured, so quietly a human wouldn’t have heard him even though her montrals picked the words up easily. “I know.”

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

Anakin sucked in a deep, bracing breath, willing himself to be still and patient for just a little longer despite how every second he stood there only fueled the pit of anger coiled tightly in his gut. It had been easier, on the Resolute — in space and among his men where he didn’t have to look at the face of a man who’d lied to him for as long as they’d known each other. A man he’d defended against criticism and let whisper in his ear. A man he’d let slowly poison him from the inside until the rot had settled deep in the core of him, a permanent fixture he looked upon with shame and regret. And anger.

“I’m afraid I haven’t come just to visit an old friend, though.” His voice, miraculously, didn’t so much as waver, the words flowing as smoothly from him as they never had.

The Chancellor’s eyes seemed to narrow for a moment — so quick he almost thought he’d misinterpreted it, a trick of the light and nothing more — before he spoke, his tone even and jovial. “And what can I do to help you then, Anakin? Or have you come as Knight Skywalker? On behalf of the Jedi, perhaps,” he said, not a question. Anakin shook his head in answer regardless.

“I’m not here on behalf of the Jedi, Chancellor, but I am here as a Knight of the Order though I act alone.” He swallowed and carefully, slowly, reached down to his belt where his lightsaber hung, singing to him so faintly at that moment that it could have been miles away. The Chancellor didn’t move, didn’t so much as twitch, as he pulled the cool, metal casing from its clip and held it, unlit, in the palm of his flesh hand.

“What have you come here for, Knight Skywalker?”

A chill seemed to settle in the air between them that set every nerve in Anakin’s body aflame, alive and electric through his limbs so that he felt even the faint, phantom pain in his prosthetic. He curled his mechanical fingers into a fist, clenching and unclenching them for a few tense seconds the way he sometimes did before battle, when he worried that very pain might get in the way and cost more of his men their lives. His shoulders strained with the tension creeping into him, and he struggled to keep let it go.

“Chancellor Palpatine, I accuse you of being a Sith Lord and traitor to the Republic.”

The Chancellor laughed like Anakin had told a particularly funny joke, and said: “My boy, I am an old man who has dedicated his life, and a decade already as Chancellor, to the betterment of the Republic. How could I possibly be a-a Sith?” He asked, just the right amount of incredulity saturating the question. “I fear, my boy, that you are tired — this war has taken its toll on us all, and with you needed so often on the front and so firmly in the thick of the worst of it. Well, it hurts, but I’m unsurprised to find even a young man as impressive as you, my friend, might be swayed by this cruel joke under the circumstances.”

“It isn’t a joke,” Anakin snarled, finally losing the firm grip he’d kept on his anger. “I saw you.” The man stilled, thin lips pressed together in a grim line as he sat back in his chair too peer at Anakin like he were a bug. “I saw you,” he said again, breathing heavily, almost panting. “In your office, your private office, just before the 501st shipped out last time. Talking to Dooku.” He spat the name like a curse, filthier than any other word in his vocabulary.

“My boy, whatever you thought you saw—”

“He called you Sidious. He called you Master.” He bared his teeth at the man who’d been his friend, white-knuckled grip on his saber’s hilt tightening almost painfully. “You’ve betrayed the Republic.

“I am the Republic!” Anakin staggered when The Chancellor’s eyes flashed, bright yellow instead of deep brown.

“You’re a traitor,” Anakin bellowed back, finally igniting his lightsaber at his side. “You’ll turn yourself in, or I’ll bring you in myself. It’s my duty as a Jedi,” he said, not at all the confident declaration he’d meant it to be.

“Just as it was your duty to — what was it again? Eschew attachments?” Anakin flinched, but grit his teeth, determined. “My boy, Anakin, please see reason.”

“Reason? What reason? You’re-you’re a Sith!” He widened his stance as the Chancellor finally stood up from behind the desk, leaning forward on his hands against its smooth surface. His gaze burned into Anakin’s, boring in with such intensity he feared the man saw right down to the deepest, most vulnerable parts of him no matter how hard Anakin might try to keep him out. “You were my friend,” he said, nearly a whisper and not at all what he’d meant to.

“I still am.” The Chancellor smiled, but Anakin felt none of the warmth from it that he used to. “I can help you, Anakin. I can help you keep your loved ones safe in these awful times. I can give you the power to keep them safe with your own two hands. Power the Jedi could only dream of.” He paused, eyes gleaming bright and greedy as he said: “I could give you the galaxy.”

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

Rex watched his general putter about the camp, looking more a mess than usual. He seemed not unlike a droid, his every move mechanically rote as he went about his tasks and his gaze distant in that way Rex sometimes saw on shell shocked shinies. He pursed his lips, grip on his bucket tightening a fraction. Their last campaign had been rough: heavy losses and a victory won by the skin of their teeth. He’d seen how it had left the Commander, much as Ahsoka had tried to hide it, and the next one was gearing up to be just as bad or worse if the 212th were held up.

General Skywalker, however, had been worrying him since long before. He didn’t know how much his general thought he was fooling Rex — and it rankled that he might have if not for little moments like this — but he wouldn’t fool anyone if this went on much longer. He’d heard troopers talking, spotting Skywalker up at all hours of the night, amiable enough but also mumbling to himself when he thought no one would see. Rex had done his best to keep the worst of it under wraps: making up reasons for the general’s wandering, erasing the occasional unauthorized flight on his personal junker of a ship, filling in reports that skipped his notice or forging them altogether.

What he couldn’t hide, Rex waved away as a symptom of how busy Jedi generals were in general. Easy to do when the only ones to work consistently closely with them were the Commanders — and Rex, considering he filled the role for the 501st.

He’d considered telling Cody at the very least, if not General Kenobi himself, but he’d put it off. Every time he came across evidence that something was wrong, he’d brushed it off. At first with assurances that the general was just stressed. That he’d course correct on his own and all would go back to how it had been. When it worsened, Rex had asked his general directly, needing to know if whatever had happened would affect his performance — if it would put men’s lives in danger.

Anakin had looked him in the eyes that day and promised he had it handled.

Whatever “it” was.

Rex trusted his general with his life. With his brothers’ lives. So it hurt, a physical pain in his chest, to know his general didn’t trust him enough to let him help. For his general — his friend — he’d do anything, even if it got him decommissioned. Had already, to some extent.

“Captain,” a shiny said, prying his attention away from Skywalker and back to the bustle of setting up camp. “Commander Cody’s on the line for you.”

Rex nodded and shoved his bucket back on his head. He spared one last glance at his general before following the trooper back to the hastily put together command tent, wondering all the way there if this was a sign for him to speak up.

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

Anakin swallowed, mouth dry as the desert planet he’d been born on. The part of him that would always be nine and scared, then nineteen and mourning, found the offer compelling. Power to keep everyone safe: Padmé, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex and his men. To have the galaxy fall in line so wars like this one never came about again. To break the chains keeping sentients fettered, abused and terrified. To do what he wanted without the constraints the Jedi imposed upon him and all their members. It appealed so well to that not-insignificant part of him that hated his own fear and weakness and the uncertainty of the future.

It scared him, how enticing the offer was and how tempted he was to forsake everything he knew and everything he’d been taught in exchange for that promise. All that held him back was the single, nagging feeling itching at the back of his skull. He probed at it, poking at what lay below the desire and fear until he found th rest of him — the parts the darkness didn’t call to so strongly.

The parts of him molded by the people he loved, nurtured by what he’d been taught at the Jedi’s feet, and built on the foundations his Mom had laid down for him in his childhood. The parts that whispered to him to be cautious. To be vigilant. To remember that nothing so golden, so perfect, came without a cost.

What was the price to be paid for the Chancellor’s offer?

What would he lose in exchange?

Everything, that tiny part of him whispered.

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

Obi-Wan smiled at Ahsoka as she skipped back towards her and Anakin’s troops, all of them nearly finished with the necessary preparations needed to leave this Force-forsaken planet. He watched the troops mingle, chatting and catching up as much as they could. Even his commander had loosened up in the afermath of a hard-won battle, leaned against a crate of supplies as he spoke with Rex.

The only person he hadn’t been able to find in the organized chaos had been his former padawan.

Anakin seemed to have disappeared entirely, not a trace of him anywhere which seemed odd to him. He turned toward Rex and Cody, intent on asking where he might find the wayward knight, only to slow and then stop altogether when he caught the tail end of their conversation.

“—know. But it’s … something.” Rex frowned, hands balled into tight fists at his side. Cody sighed.

“If he’s breaking regs,” Cody said archly, but didn’t finish the thought. Rex, in Obi-Wan’s humble opinion, looked rather much like he wanted to punch the other man.

“I’m not turning him in,” Rex hissed, low enough that Obi-Wan had to strain to hear him. “The general’s just … he’s in a bad way right now and I don’t know how to kriffing help if he won’t let me.”

Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a thin line, drawing back before he heard Cody’s response. He hadn’t known Anakin had been doing poorly, though in what capacity he wasn’t yet sure. He’d hardly spoken to Anakin at all the last few months, busy as they’d both been. Still, if the captain was so worried, enough to bring it to Cody, then. Well.

He made a mental note to himself to check in on his former padawan. He knew the 501st were due for leave soon, a quick resupply over Coruscant that would give Anakin and Ahsoka both time to visit the Temple. Perhaps after, he’d make the call, or better yet: find some time to get their two battalions together outside of battle.

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

He breathed out, a single slow, measured breath, and set his jaw. When he looked at the Chancellor — at Sidious — his choice had been made. Sidious scowled even before Anakin spoke, wrinkled and severe and not a hint at all of the man he had trusted.

“No.” He brought his saber up into Djem So’s opening stance. “I am a Jedi, and I’ll do what I must.”

“So it’s treason, then,” Sidious sneered, pulling a lightsaber of his own from his robes. Anakin felt the last dregs of his hope drain when the blade lit, its blood-red light casting Sidious’ face into eerie relief as the lights in the room grew suddenly dim.

Anakin nodded once, a short, sharp jerk of his head. He breathed in, taking a brief moment to steel himself as the room’s tension and chill grew bloated and oppressive. For a moment neither of them moved. Coruscant itself seemed to freeze, from every sentient on-planet to its very rotation in space. And then, all at once, life exploded back into action.

Sidious leaped out from behind his desk at the same time Anakin surged forward. Their lightsabers scraped each other mid-air, the barest, buzzing touch as he kept that ominous, red blade from slicing at his shoulder. He spun quickly on his heel to meet Sidious’ offensive attack from behind. Their sabers clashed, properly locked and spitting as each of them tried to over-power the other.

He threw the entirety of his weight into every attack, pressing forward and pushing Sidious back. But nothing landed. Anakin growled, moving faster. Pushing. Pressing. But nothing. Fucking. Landed. Sidious whirled, inelegant but effective. Power bolstered by experience and skill. Every slash blocked. Every thrust parried. Every move economical and calculated and a near perfect counter to Anakin’s own aggressive style.

“You have such potential,” Sidious crooned at him, their sabers locked once again, the energy buzzing and crackling loudly in Anakin’s ears. “You could be so much more than you are, my boy.”

Anakin dug his heels in the carpet and pushed, shoving as much of the Force as he could into it even as the effort left his gasping for breath. Gasping, but victorious when it at least shut the Sith up and sent him sailing across the room if not into the wall like he’d wanted. He grinned at Sidious’ responding glower and merely adjusted his grip on his lightsaber with a shrug. Taunting Dooku’s master as much as he dared.

“Join me, Anakin,” Sidious said, unmoving from where he’d landed and looking somehow unbothered behind the anger radiating from him. “Join me and cease this foolishness.”

“Never,” he hissed, and leaped forward with help from the Force.

They clashed. Separated. Clashed again. Neither gained ground, even as Anakin found himself tiring, slowly but surely. He winced when a glancing blow caught his arm, searing and slicing a neat, shallow line from elbow to shoulder. Anakin managed a nastier slash at the Sith’s legs, and nearly laughed when he caught Sidious’ ankle as he leaped and watched him stagger on the landing.

Fury, thick and startling and like nothing Anakin had felt before even on the front lines, oozed from Sidious then. Anakin, sweating and exhausted, stilled. Tense and suddenly nervous. Something slick and malicious wrapped around his throat, and before he’d even registered that it was the Force — Sidious using the Force — it squeezed, cinched closed and cutting off his air.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Sidious said, sincerity dripping like poison from his words. “I had a plan, you see. A place for you at my side, and. Well, it might be earlier than I’d hoped, but I’m nothing if not accommodating. Don’t you agree?”

“Shut.” Anakin gagged, the invisble vice squeezing ever tighter as the seconds ticked past. “Up.” He fumbled for the Force as dark spots dotted his vision, but felt it slip through his fingers like sand. “Sith.”

Sidious hummed, paced calmly closer to Anakin like they had all the time in the world. And maybe they did. Those were clone troopers out front, and Anakin had paid a slicer more than enough credits in his attempts to gather evidence against Sidious for at least the vague confirmation that they, specifically, could be controlled. He had no doubts, now, that Sidious, among those involved in this conspiracy, could and would do just that.

The Force squeezed a fraction harder — any more and his neck would snap — before easing, just enough for him to gasp, coughing and spluttering as fresh air returned to his burning lungs. He fell to his hands and knees, blinking back tears and the graying haze that had crept into his vision. He barely noticed when Sidious stopped in front of him and bent to pick his lightsaber up off the ground where he didn’t remember dropping it.

“What a tragedy,” Sidious said, laying a withered hand on Anakin’s head like a child needing comfort. He would have tried to bite the old man’s fingers off if he hadn’t still been struggling to catch his breath, just enough pressure still on his throat to keep him from fully recovering. “The disappearance of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, The Hero with no Fear who tried so hard to defend the Republic’s beloved Chancellor from the Separatist assassin, Ventress. Who took off in pursuit when she fled, without backup despite the Chancellor’s pleas — always a hothead, that one.”

“Shut up,” Anakin croaked, pain straining his voice. The hand in his hair tightened, not painfully. Not yet. A warning to keep silent — a warning to be ignored as soon as he could fucking breath again.

“What a shame,” Sidious continued, “how the young man was caught unawares.”

Anakin’s stomach dropped, fear like ice crawling through his veins as the meaning behind Sidious’ monologue finally started to register. He moved and the pressure on his throat worsened in response. He shouldn’t have come. The thought hit him like a blaster bolt to the chest.

He shouldn’t have come. He should have told someone. Should have tried harder to gather evidence against the Chancellor, even though he’d lost sleep over it for months — trying and failing and trying again only to come up empty-handed every time. Sdious was smart and his plan had been in motion probably for longer than Anakin had been alive.

Even if they’d never believe him, he should have told someone.

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

“Padmé.” Anakin said her name like it was the sun itself and he a man without its light all his life.

She smiled, held his face between the palms of her hands, and pulled him down into one of the softest, gentlest kisses they’d shared since the war had started. He practically melted against her, boneless if not quite relaxed. She pulled back first, brow furrowed and lips pursed as she studied his face. He hadn’t looked great the last time they’d talked over a holo, but now he looked worse.

The bags under his eyes were deep, dark smudges that looked like bruises in the dim light of her apartment. He looked drawn, paler than a man on the front lines more often than not should be, with dry, chapped lips and a gauntness to him that might have been as much a trick of the light as the early signs that he’d not been eating well. His hands trembled against her waist, a fine tremor she felt through the thin nightdress he’d caught her in. She hadn’t expected him to come by, not so late at night and certainly not looking half-dead.

“Anakin, what’s wrong? Should I call a healer?” she asked, smoothing a thumb over his lips, his cheek, under his eye. He shook his head, turning so he could kiss her palm. He ran so warm normally that it scared her to feel him so cold. Like death, she thought and it sent a foreboding thrill down her spine.

“I love you,” he murmured against her skin, his bright, blue eyes never leaving hers. She’d have found it romantic if not for how much it scared her just then.

“You’re scaring me, Anakin. Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“ ‘M sorry.” He lifted one hand told hold hers, the same one he’d kissed, and brushed his lips over her fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said again and Padmé thought she might cry from how wretched he sounded. “Don’t leave tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Don’t go to work. Stay here.” He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

“Anakin, I can’t just— just skip. There’s an important bill we’re trying to pass and if I’m not there—” He squeezed her hand, not painfully but not gently either, and she snapped her mouth shut. “Anakin?” She moved to touch his face again, but he drew back. She gasped, a quiet, hurt noise pulled from her lips.

“Just tomorrow,” he said, sounding desperate. Scared. “Just tomorrow, please Angel. Please.” She swallowed, wide eyed and trembling now herself, but nodded.

“Alright. Alright, I promise, but only if you tell me what’s going on. Okay?” He hesitated, but acquiesced.

“After,” he said and she said nothing else before pulling him to bed by the hand.

He curled up beside her, pressed as close as physically possible with his head pressed to her breast as she kissed the top of his head and smoothed a hand through his unruly hair. She didn’t know how long they laid there, silent but awake before sleep claimed her. When she woke, he was gone and the place in her bed where he’d lain had gone cold. In his place were a note and a datastick.

I’m Sorry, the note read, written in his slanted, messy cursive. Padmé felt tears prick at her eyes, something thick and awful and nauseating curling in her stomach as she picked the datastick up and moved to plug it into the datapad she kept on her nightstand.

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

He closed his eyes, let the pang of regret flow down and into him, then, finally, out. It came so suddenly easy, feeling what he needed before letting go, that he wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. All his time as a Jedi he’d struggled, and he chose this moment to finally embrace — understand — what it was they’d been trying to teach him all along.

“Get to the point,” he said, trying to sound brave and not like he could fall apart at any second. The hand in his hair pulled, jerked his head up so he could look at those ugly, Sith eyes and Sidious’ grotesque grin. He’d spit if he could, but the Force tightened on his throat like Sidious had plucked the thought from his mind.

“The point,” the Sith hissed, “is that I will not waste the years I spent molding my perfect Apprentice.” Sidious crooned the word like it should mean more to Anakin. Like it shouldn’t make him sick to his stomach. “There is a place for you at my side, boy, whether you are there willingly or not.”

Sidious let him go, so suddenly he nearly fell on his face. Anakin blinked, confused as he pushed himself up, and caught the edge of that same, awful grin. Saw Sidious raise a hand, fingers splayed and pointing at him, and then nothing at all as he crackle of electricity and his own screaming filled the room.

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

Mace’s head throbbed, the same pounding pain that had lingered in his temples for months now. A shatterpoint, he knew, but any specific knowledge about it had remained firmly out of reach. Regardless of his headache — he’d had long years of practice managing it — he strolled into the Council’s Chambers, calm as a Jedi Master should be despite the urgency of the emergency meeting called. Problems, it seemed, just loved to pile up. First, an attack on the Chancellor in his own office the week before, then the disappearance of Knight Skywalker, and now whatever new event had cropped up.

He sighed, taking his seat among the mix of present Councilors. All of them, he was surprised to note, though most had called in via holo. Once he’d been seated, the room quieted and every eye turned to Master Yoda who’d called them together. The old troll’s face looked grim, his ears drooped as he all but hunched over his gimmer stick. Slick, icy dread slithered down Mace’s spine, knowing he wouldn’t like whatever the old Master had to say.

“Master Yoda?” Kenobi’s voice, mildly tinny over the holo, broke the silence when Master Yoda failed to speak up. The old Master seemed to wilt even further.

“Received a recording, we did, from Dooku.” Every Jedi in the room jerked, though none looked more than serenly alarmed at the news. “A datapad, he sent, early this morning. And another a gift.” Yoda’s voice wavered on the last word, just enough to be noticeable.

“May we see the device?” Plo Koon tipped his head to one side as he asked the question, a request made more for Yoda’s benefit than because any of them had any real need to see Dooku’s message for themselves.

Yoda shook his head and said: “With the investiators, it is. Work, they will, to see if a trick this is not. Deceiving us, Dooku may be.”

“Deceiving us?” Master Kolar leaned forward in his seat, a frown marring his features. Master Yoda nodded.

“Bring news, he does, of our missing knight.” Mace saw Kenobi jolt at the statement, wide-eyed. His fellow councilor had been devastated at the news of his former padawan’s disappearance. A few of the other Master’s spared Kenobi a sympathetic glance, before returning their attention to Master Yoda. “Claim, he does, that Knight Skywalker’s death his assassin, Ventress, is responsible for. Chased, he says she was, after thwarting an attempt on the Chancellor by young Skywalker she was.”

“Anakin,” Kenobi started, voice strangled. Mace frowned, rested his elbows on his knees, and steepled his fingers as he closed his eyes. “Anakin has fought Ventress many times, and come out unscathed before. To claim she killed him…” he trailed off.

“A gift, Dooku sent as well,” Yoda reminded.

The earlier chill in Mace’s spine solidified into a pit behind his stomach, a near physical weight as he said, low and pained: “Proof.”

The room was silent. Still. Their combined dread and anticipation thickened the air until it grew hard to breathe.

“Yes.”

Mace opened his eyes. He looked first to Obi-Wan, lips thinned but otherwise wearing a perfectly blank mask, and then to Master Yoda’s own grief-stricken face.

“His prosthetic and saber I have kept here to show you, but the rest. To the Healers for tests it has gone.”

“Healers?” Obi-Wan’s blank facade cracked. Mace was sure Obi-Wan’s face would have been pale as a sheet if not for the blue-tint of he holo-image projected onto his chair. Yoda said nothing for a long time, though Mace didn’t know if it was reluctance or grief that stalled him. “Master,” Obi-Wan whispered, and Mace felt sympathetic tears prick at his eyes for all the grief he could hear in that word alone. “Please.”

“Fingers,” Yoda said, grave and bland and disgusted. “Knight Skywalker’s, the Healers confirmed not long ago.”

Mace heard a few of the Masters’ gasp, and Obi-Wan’s own strangled, horrified noise, but Mace kept silent. Let his eyes slip closed once more, and bowed his head as a wave of bitter grief swept over him.

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

Anakin never woke for long, but when he did there were always two constants: pain and Sidious.

And hope. Always hope.

That Padmé had read what he’d left on the datastick — not enough but a start, and she’d always been so much smarter than him — and forgave him for the lie. For leaving.

Hope that Sidious would choke on his food and die, even if it meant Anakin rotted away in this cell.

Hope that the apologies he’d written to Ahsoka, Rex, and Obi-Wan made it to them, even if he hadn’t included half as much information in them as he had in his Angel’s.

And hope that maybe, one day, he might be saved. That Sidious’ attempt to deceive everyone would, at least this once, fail.

“How much longer will you remain disobedient, my Apprentice,” Sidious said as he slipped into the cell. Anakin closed his eyes for only a brief moment before turning a glare on his captor.

“Dunno,” he croaked, “how much longer ‘r you gonna live?”

Sidious hissed and repaid him with a blast of lightning in response.

Anakin screamed.

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #betrayal #star wars #anakin skywalker #sheev palpatine #fic #violence #implied torture #fake death #loss of limbs #my fanfic #the only limbs lost are fingers and it's only mentioned not shown

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nico-twix · 4 years ago

Text

the prisoner of my enemy is my prisoner

Hey guys, sorry if this ain't your thing, but in honour of star wars day, I decided to post a little blurb of a fanfic I've been writing!

Kylo Ren x Reader

Words: 1.5K

Tags: second-person "You", no (y/n), force choking, mind invasion, blasters, mechanic reader, a poor attempt at humour, slow burn

When the First Order raid a Resistance Base, the last thing they expect is to imprison their prisoners, but as will become common, Commander Ren makes an exception for you.

May the Fourth be with You!

“Wake up, prisoner.” Cool blaster metal digs into your arm as you are gracefully awoken.

You would be lying if you said this was the first time you have been captured, but this has been by far the worst treatment.

You’re not quite sitting or standing, and as far as you can feel—because you certainly can’t move your head to look down— you are bolted to this “seat” of kings. What you can see: grey wall, white trooper, and emo creep in the corner.

They excuse the trooper and stand in front of you. Their black helmet softly reflects a red light that is outside your vision.

“You were a prisoner of the Resistance.” Their, his, voice is modulated, but you can still pick up his annoyance. Short. Clipped.

“I’m well aware of that, bud.”

His mask diffuses what you could only guess to be a growl into static. Scary man did not like that answer. “You are now a prisoner of the First Order.”

Ah fuck. If it were possible, you would have stiffened in your binds. You have heard of the First Order—everyone has. But you knew them as the largest arms purchaser in the galaxy and had no clue who, what, or why they are how they are.

He steps even closer to you; his helmet is obscuring all of the grey walls in your vision. “The resistance wanted you enough to keep you alive. Why?”

Barely alive. Their prisoner for 100 days and all I got as food were some dry-ass crackers. “Look, bud, if I knew I would tell you.” You attempt to shrug your shoulders, but all it does is bring a dull ache.

“No, not bud.” This close, the helmet voice sounds scarier, deeper, more alive. The hairs on your arm start to tingle like they are static.

“Not bud, read you loud and clear, pal.” As soon as the word leaves your mouth, he’s got his hand around your neck.

“If I didn’t need you alive to invade your mind, I would have killed you by now.” He places a finger on your forehead as he tightens his hold further and your eyes roll back into your head. Your brain feels like it’s getting pushed out of your nose and chopped open like a Koja nut simultaneously. Your lungs burn and you are powerless to stop him. If only I had a choking kink to make this somewhat enjoyable.

Images of your life flash past, leaving you little time to process what’s going on. Finally, you see your time with the Resistance. All 100 days, although each was the same. Your guard telling you to build it. You don’t know how. You don’t even know what it’s for. The visions stop. He seems to find what he is looking for at that moment as he lets you go. You’re inhaling air faster than a vacuum cleaner as blood rushes throughout your body, black dots dancing in your vision, pounding headache wrecking your brain.

He calls the stormtrooper back in. “You can move her to a lower security cell,” he turns to look at you, “she really does know nothing. Resistance Scum.” Even against the modulation, you can hear his leering sneer. What an ass.

The trooper releases your head bindings and you can only see your interro(r)gator’s backside. What an ass.

The new cell is much better in that you have full motor control, but the good things stop there. They sure went over budget on decorating. The whole thing is painted in the same soul-sucking grey colour as before and there wasn’t even a window. I thought I booked a room with a view. All that was in there with you was a mat for sleeping and an air vent on the floor that was pumping in only what you could assume was unfiltered space vacuum it was so cold. Maker, I know I complained about the Resistance prison, but this is bad.

If you had to stay in this cell for another day, you were going to commit homicide. This leaves two options: either one, escape, or two, hope that the next trooper that walks in here has a nicely written will. One seems easier. How hard could escaping be?

Apparently very hard. You have been going at this for hours. But try as you may, your arms will never magically extend far enough through the cell bars to grab the keys off of the guard. Which leaves the vent. Vents are nice, but not the safest thing in the world. For all you know, this could lead you out into space or through fan blades or to the trash receptacle. But fuck it, Maker damn you if ever saw your “pal” again.

The vent luckily had no screws, and with just a light tug, the door flipped open unveiling a straight shot down. How far down? Who knows, not you! So, with one last look at the guard, you slid to your freedom.

You couldn’t have been sliding for more than twenty feet when you collided with more metal venting. You landed as lightly as an elephant and your ankles burned with shooting pain. You got to down to your hands and knees to falter through the next set of passageways, eclipsed in darkness and dust. Every so often, you would come across another vent opening and you would peak to observe where you were. You have passed by three trooper quarters and figured you were in their wing of the ship. Meaning that their armoury should be nearby. The plan from here on out should be simple.

Step 1: Get to the armoury

It took what seemed to be two hours to finally find the armoury and it certainly didn’t help that you got lost. Twice. You wondered how long you still have before your “pal” realizes you’ve escaped. Based on prior experience, prisoners generally get checked on every six hours, so you should still be safe. You pop open the vent door below you and fall on your ass into the armoury.

Step 2: Steal some of that zesty trooper armour.

The armoury in the dark was creepy. Every couple of steps, you would feel a solid limb of their armour smack against your legs or shoulders. Your hair even got caught in one of their belts. None of them seemed to be in your size. What am I, in the Men’s section? You duck behind a container of spare helmets as you hear the familiar schwoop of blast doors.

“Poor bastard didn’t deserve that though.” Various clicks and hisses went through the air as two troopers stripped off their armour.

“None of us do. He’s lucky he only broke his leg, gets a free trip to the med bay.” The light streaming in from the open door allowed you to see them discard their armour pieces under a “repairs” sign.

“He better not take the last blue lollipop; I’ve been eyeing it.” They both chuckled at that, grabbed new armour, and left.

You let out the breath you were holding in. You weren’t spotted, everything will be okay. You try to remember the layout from earlier and make your way over to where the broken armour was dumped. One of the troopers looked your size, so you borrow it and hope they won’t miss it terribly.

Step 3: Find their weapons stash. Walk around like a headless chicken looking for their weapons stash.

Every good escape needs good weapons. And this will be a damn good escape. It would be if you could find the weapons. I feel like I’ve seen that door before. You probably have. You’re just following the gaggle of troopers in front of you, hoping this won’t look suspicious. It definitely did. If the clocks on the walls were anything to go by, it has been around 4 hours since you escaped, meaning that you have been lost on this ship for at least an hour and a half. 1000 rooms on the Starkiller base, 1000 rooms on Starkiller. Enter one, I am so done, 999 rooms on the Starkiller base. Your slightly too large armour makes awful clicks and you pray to Maker that your hell would end soon. And then, almost as if Maker heard your pleas, you found the room you were looking for.

Step 4: Escape!

The weapons room was more like a weapons sanctuary. All along the walls, beautiful blasters polished to perfection, and yet they had some of the worst specs you’ve ever seen. This is outrageous! They expect me to escape with a blaster pistol? It’s not even modded.

What used to look divine, now just looks pathetic. You huff, having taken offence at their poor supply, and “borrow” a couple of weapons from the shelves, a repeater here, a stun baton there, and a trusty set of standard-issue repair tools. With precision unmatched by even the finest droids, you get to work, soldering and welding, stripping and joining, and hoping and praying that what you have only tested out in dreams would work.

And you might have been able to test it, had the blast doors stayed shut.

Step 4b: do not get caught. It’s a little late for that

“Trooper, report.”

Please let me know what you think and if there are any mistakes! This blurb is available on AO3 if you want to subscribe for more updates!

#kylo x you #kylo ren #ben solo #drabble #prison break #force choke #star wars #sequel trilogy #may the fourth be with you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #slow burn #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

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Ectober Day 6: Year - A Warriors Body

The (half)lifestyle Danny (half)lived was bound to affect him in many ways; some more visible than others. He was a fighter after all, and with enough time a fighter is gonna look like one.

Tucker pats Danny as they begin walking to school, “man it’s gonna be so weird being back huh?”. Making Danny chuckle, “tell me about it”, sighing and rubbing his neck, “and what with the lack of classes there’s been so much more time for hunting ‘n stuff. I’m gonna be so jittery just sitting in pointless classes for hours on end”.

Tucker laughs and grins like an idiot, knowing that was an understatement. You’d think the kid would take it easy when given a break, but no. Instead he basically fell face-first into fighting everything. And if there weren’t any fights then he went off training. “You just don’t know how to relax anymore I think”.

“Eh, you might have a point there. Jazz says I’m becoming an adrenaline junkie”.

Tucker gives him another pat and deadpans, “she’s right”.

“Fuck you”.

Tucker just laughs at that before poking Danny’s bicep, “though all your fighting sure has done you some favours”, attempting at flexing himself but just looking kinda ridiculous, “now if only I could pack on muscle that fast! Then the ladies would be all over me!”.

Danny rolls his eyes with a small smile, “you would if you actually did literally any physical activity outside of when you absolutely had to. Plus, you know my body’s more manipulatable”. Which was a blessing and a curse... and also the reason he was going to wear exclusively baggy clothing for the foreseeable future. He’d rather not have the fact that he rather looked like he low-key lived at the gym be on display. After all, he was supposed to be the weak little loser that blended into the background and slacked off; there was no logical reason to an outsider for him to pack on muscle, especially as much as he had. But hey, at least he hadn’t hit a growth spurt on top of it; though that would probably happen sometime in the future. Ugh.

Tucker rolls his eyes and puts his hands behind his head, “still man. You probably look way better naked than me”.

Danny actually pauses on the sidewalk at that and stares at Tucker, “Ancients, you’re such a pervert”. Tucker just looks back and winks at him, making Danny shake his head and start walking again. Smacking Tucker’s stomach as he catches up, “maybe you should focus less on how big your arms are and more on how big your stomach is, Mr. Eats Five Burgers In One Sitting. You’re gonna wind up like my dad... just shorter”.

“Ouch, low blow. But what can I say? All that tasty juicy meat is just begging to be devoured. How can a guy say no to that?”. Tucker digs in his pocket and flips out his PDA, “oh and Sam's still not gonna be back today”.

Danny groans, “great, so first day is gonna be even more shit. Wonderful. And don’t we have gym first block? Zone, the Universe just hates us, huh?”.

Tucker grins, pocketing the device, “like that’s anything new. But hey, at least you probably won’t die this year”, pointing at him, “and you’ve got some bully protection now too”.

Danny quirks a very confused eyebrow, “huh?”. Making Tucker roll his eyes disbelievingly, “dude seriously? There is literally no way you fit in a locker now. Sure your horrible clothing choices-”, tugging on the mustard yellow sweater with a little green puppy pin on the bottom, “-makes you seem small, but Dash isn’t that stupid”, laughing and tilting his head, “sure is close though. As soon as he picks you up he’s gonna notice something’s off, even I know muscle weighs a lot”.

Danny blinks at him, pausing his walking again, “Tuck pal, just how heavy do you think I am? I’m barely a-hundred pounds”. Tucker pokes his arm, “bullshit. I think you need a new scale”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “dude, most of my muscle and stuff is ectoplasm-based. Just my built-up ectoplasm storing itself overtop of my bones and fleshy muscle. And ecto’s weightless, remember? Heck, it can be anti-weight or whatever; me having more ecto muscle makes me weigh less not more”. Tucker blinks, “huh, didn’t think of it like that”, and decides what the heck and promptly wraps his arms around Danny to lift him up. Easily noting that yeah, Danny really doesn’t weigh much. A-hundred might even be being generous.

Danny shoves him off as Tucker puts him back on the ground, “so ha, no Dash won’t notice”, looking at the ground a little worriedly, “though yeah, I probably won’t fit in a locker anymore. Maybe I could...”, glancing at his arm before shaking his head, “hmmmm yeah no, that’d just make me look fat”.

Tucker chuckles, “what? Trying to redistribute the ecto? Hate to break it to ya, but you’ve got way too much to be a skinny twig again”.

“Hey”.

Tucker points over his shoulder at the school, “it’s true and you know it. And it’s not like I was any better”, both of them chuckle at that before Tucker continues, “anyway, welcome back to Hell I guess. Ready for another year of suffering and Highschool inequality”.

Danny snorts, “and suitably started off by the worst class of all, which will probably involve both of us getting rubber balls to the face”. Tucker just snorts right back as they climb the steps to the doors that both of them kinda wanted to never see again. Especially Danny, not like he was ever going to actually need or make use of the crap the teachers shoved down their throats here. If he was more of a delinquent then he’d just drop out here and now.

But hey, at least the whole quartets lockers -yes, even Valerie’s- were all together this year. Small miracles.

Danny groans as the two boys push in the gymnasium doors, making a be-line for the locker room and hoping to continue successfully avoiding the entirety of the football team. At least in the locker room they wouldn’t be total jackasses, since they had some weird level of respect for the ‘sacredness’ of the locker room. Probably some weird sports guy thing.

Pushing? Fine. Ass slapping? For some reason, fine. Hiding someone’s clothes? Sometimes fine. But actually shoving someone into lockers, or giving someone a swirly in the locker room bathroom, or actually wrecking the gym clothes? Off-limits; and messing with the showers was only cool if someone was taking waaaaaay too long. It was weird but hey, at least it made the locker room something of a semi-safe zone. So long as you were cool getting mocked for changing in the showers or out in front of everyone. Chance to show off for the jocks, chance to get mocked for everyone else.

Tucker chills against the wall, waiting on Danny who always took stupid long to change. Dude had bandaging and scars to cover after all. Whistling and inspecting his nails, being the only one still actually in here besides Danny; as per usual. It was kinda weird, felt like they had just finished freshman year days ago and yet here they were again. Back in the same routine. Danny’s voice breaks through his thoughts, “uh, I think we -or more so I- might have a slight problem”.

Tucker sighs, at least Danny’s tone wasn’t serious which meant less ‘danger/ghost fight incoming’ and more ‘mild inconvenience or some general halfa weirdness’, “what?”.

Danny gives a very awkward chuckle, stepping out and holding his arms out to the side before looking down at his shirt, “I may have updated my wardrobe, but I think I may have forgotten something”.

Tucker blinks before sputtering and laughing, bending over a bit to wheeze, “dude, haha, that so doesn’t fit you anymore!”. Tucker absolutely forgot that Mrs. Testlauf was super serious about wearing fitting clothes, pretty sure Danny had too. She always went off about how it ‘showed the value and worth of a person and their progress’ course she’d always add on ‘and shows who the weak pipsqueaks are’. Laughing some more, “how did you even get that on? I get that the underaumour is, like, super-duper stretchy, but the shirt? Looks like it’s gonna burst apart at the seams!”.

Danny huffs, “again, more manipulatable. I’m ‘squishy’ remember?”, and crosses his arms. Both of them still and stare at the air at the sound of ripping; proving Tucker right.

Tucker falls on his ass laughing after a beat, “guess you have to ask for a new one now! Ha! Testlauf’s gonna be pissed”.

“Fuck you man”, Danny starts laughing himself though and glances around before just phasing off the shirt; yeah, he wrecked the sleeves. Stupid Testlauf and her stupid ‘wear your proper sizes or it’ll be detention for the rest of your life’ rule. Least the shorts were supposed to be a bit loose, not that they currently were.

Both boys’ jump a little at hearing a rather masculine female voice shout, “where the Zone is Fenton and Foley! Those two slackers better get their butts out here! Or they’ll be running laps all class!”. Danny and Tucker both panic a little at that, and justifiably so because talk about harsh. Promptly bolting out of the locker room, Danny with his ruined shirt in hand.

Unfortunately, though obviously, everyone is pretty much staring at them as they run out. Most looking to be partway through rolling their eyes but stop. Dash -because of course Danny would get stuck having gym with Dash- is the one to actually point shit out though, “Fenton? What the Hell happened to you?!?”.

Danny quirks an eyebrow, “huh?”, while walking over to Testlauf and speaking rather awkwardly, “I, uh, need a new gym shirt”.

Testlauf blinks, “like Hell you do”, and snatches the shirt. Holding it up and looking from it to the boy, clearly seeing that it’s torn and stretched out. Then giving Danny an almost happy appraising look, “well I’ll be, Fenton, so you do”, and gives him a clap on the arm that is absolutely a pleased one.

Danny blinks, confused, and looks to Tucker, who also looks confused, “what the Zone is happening here?”.

Todd blurts out, “what do you think? You have a bloody six-pack and the arms of an ox. Did you take steroids or something?”.

Danny and Tucker blink, then look to Danny’s chest. Danny instantly blushing a bit and attempting to cover up, belatedly remembering that Testlauf actually took the shirt, “uhhhh. No?”. Tucker has to turn away from everyone to laugh at Danny’s expense. Danny shoves him over for that; Tucker just lays on the ground laughing, not bothering to get up.

Testlauf tosses a larger shirt at him, “get that on and let’s see what you can do with those new muscles. Glad to see you ain’t no bloody wimp anymore”, huffing to herself as she walks off to get the balls, “to see youths shaping up, nothing makes me prouder. I couldn’t give a damn how he did it, kid’s not the type to go to unhealthy measures”. Danny, actually being able to hear her, blushes a little.

In the meantime, all Danny’s fellow classmates rush up and start trying to poke at him. He, of course, bats them off erratically; Tucker springing up to also try shooing people off from his best friend. The fact that Danny’s shirt is still practically skin-tight honestly doesn’t help; less so than the underarmour at least.

Dash scowls at Danny, while aggressively snatching up a ball, “seriously, the goddamn Zone Fenton. Weaklings ain’t supposed to bulk up”.

Danny glances from side to side before steeling his expression and meeting the bully's eyes, effectively deciding screw it, “not my fault you were too busy stuffing me into things to notice things were changing”.

Jesse blinks at him while joining the side Danny’s on, “so wait, you’ve been working out or some shit for a while and straight up no one noticed?”.

Danny shrugs, “it’s also not my fault no one cares to really pay attention to me and besides, I like being left alone”.

Testlauf blows her whistle, which of course results in Dash instantaneously whipping a ball straight at Danny. Which again, makes Danny decide fuck it, and just catches the ball nonchalantly. Dash scowls as Danny smirks, Dash walking off to the side.

Everyone on Dash’s side pauses for a second and glance at each other, before all silently agreeing to bombard the boy. Todd speaking while whipping a ball at him just like everyone else, “so this is why you always wear such baggy clothes huh? Can’t say I understand why or how though!”.

Danny just choosing to dodge with a sidestep this time, “because you people are dicks honestly. And my mom’s a black belt and knows more fighting styles than I can shake a stick at. How the Zone do you think?!?”. More than a couple nod to themselves while running around throwing and dodging.

Mikey, who just so happens to be trying to hide behind him, readjusts his glasses, “and don’t they want you to be a hunter like them? That’s a pretty physical job”. Emily shouting, “and Jack has totally tossed an RV through a wall before! So packing on muscle easily must be in your DNA!”. Danny isn’t about to argue against that, that might actually have something to do with it after all. Even if it was more his ghost halfs fault.

The rest of the game devolves from there, becoming more wild throwing and teenage shrieking than pestering Danny. Which Danny’s perfectly content with, though that results in someone getting practically thrown into him after getting blown back by a ball to the stomach. Which then results in Danny getting flipped over and throwing his ball way harder than he meant to. The entire gym pauses at the ball hitting the back wall and actually cracking the fake brick a bit.

Tucker bends over wheezing with laughter from the sidelines, looks like someone might have gotten a little too used to chucking round -though usually glowing- balls at beings that could handle being rammed by semi’s. Least he didn’t hit anyone and break their arm!

Danny blinks at the wall, “heh heh, whoops”. The few people still remaining on the other side honestly just look impressed rather than the more reasonable reaction, which would be fear and concern for their own safety; but Amity Park and CasperHigh were crazy like that though.

Mrs. Testlauf blows her whistle, “at that I think it’s a good time to wrap this up, before Fenton murders someone”, Danny rubs his neck at that while she points at him and continues, “learn self-control boy, these walls see enough damage as it is”. Which gets quite a few people to start snickering at his expense; Danny just nods awkwardly and blushes a bit. Learning self-control was generally pretty high on Danny’s priority list as it was.

Tucker snickers at him as everyone goes to clean up, “guess someones gotta relearn they’re surrounded by meek little regular old humans huh”, with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Danny smashes his face into the wall, not hard enough to do actual damage though, “shut up, Tuck”; making a few people around chuckle.

Tucker grumbles a fake, “ow”, as he pulls his face off the wall after Danny let’s go of his head. Then turning to him and smirking meanly, pulling out his PDA. Danny eyes it and Tucker’s grin, “oh don’t you dare”.

“You started it”, and jabs him with the device, giving him a mild electrical shock.

A couple other teens blink and watch the two boys pretty much beat each other up slightly. Emily muttering, “I think I don’t actually want to know what the Zone the defect quartet gets up to in their spare time”.

Todd snorts, “you’re just weak”. She glares back at him, “I don’t hear you asking”. He waves her off, “now why would I waste my precious energy on that”, earning a few snorts from the rest of the class just as the bell goes off.

Jesse runs up to Danny as everyone’s walking to leave, pulling at the ugly yellow sweater, “what I don’t get, is why you dress like such shit if you've got it going on under there”. Danny shrugs, “just don’t care”, he did care, he cared that people didn’t notice literally any of his weirdness. But obviously that wasn’t working out here. Especially with Dash giving him a weird look and clearly choosing to not go and bug Danny. But maybe, judging by how no one really seemed to care beyond being impressed and he had had fun, maybe that didn’t matter.

After all, it had been a year since he died. Since he started fighting day and night practically every other waking moment. Since he started Highschool. Things had changed. He had. And try as he might, people were going to notice that. He wasn’t that same kid anymore. The little living weak wallflower Danny Fenton didn’t exist anymore, and there really was no point in trying to pretend that he did.

End.

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years ago

Text

Part 11- Shape of My Heart

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Falling in love with someone you can never have is the worst feeling in the world...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @drewswannabegirl @sexualparkour @teamnick @jiaraendgame @agirlwholovescoffee @outerbongs @jaxxandcomet @velyssaraptor @baby-pogue @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @must-be-a-weasley-92 @kaitieskidmore1 @ma10427 @ifilwtmfc @lasnaro @justcallmesams @judayyyw @lonely-kermit @gviosca @iamaunicorn4704 @jellyfishbeansontoast @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @eb15 @hurricane-abigail @tangledinsparkles @fandom-phaser @sunwardsss @http-cherries @bibliophilewednesday @evaporatedrosepetals @thetomatosaucee @tomatosauceagent @redosmo @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @obx-direction-sos @mxltifandoms06 @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless

Part 10 Part 12

Note: After crying over the last chapter, I was finally able to muster up this one. Also just in case anyone was wondering, we’re pretending COVID19 is nonexistent in this story because it would just ruin everything and I’m not about it!

=============================

It’s been a month and a half since Rudy told me about his short film, our conversations became less frequent which worried me deeply...

I didn’t want to drift apart from him, and that’s exactly what I feared was happening now. I tried to indulge into my school work, but it became harder to focus when I kept checking to see if I had a text or at least a SnapChat from him. I didn’t want to bother him by blowing up his phone either, becoming an annoyance he’d soon grow tired of. I expressed my concerns to both Maddie’s on our daily FaceTime call, hoping to get some reassurance for my MIA boyfriend.

“We’ve been in a lot of meetings with Jonas and Netflix to try and get season 2 of OBX approved, I don’t even know why we have to be there because they don’t really talk to us.” Maddi B commented.

“Plus Rudy has that short film on top of everything, so I imagine all of this is taking up his time. Don’t fret though, he said in our last meeting how horrible he felt that you all couldn’t talk as much with the both of you being so busy. He talks about you to everyone and how much he misses you.” Maddie C inputed.

“Awww, he’s so sweet. Maybe I am overthinking things, when I go to work tomorrow I’m demanding a week paid vacation because I need a break. Midterms are coming up and I’ve barely had any time to study.” I sighed.

“You need to focus on school, that’s the most important thing right now. You know Rudy would say the same, you need to take that week to relax and get everything in order.” Maddie B pointed out.

“Yeah you’re right, jesus I forgot I have to fucking close at work tonight. I’m going to start applying to different places that actually care about their employees, and will work with school schedules.” I huffed, swinging my legs off of my bed.

“We’ll let you go then babe, love you!” Maddie B called, waving in the camera.

“Love you y/n!” Maddie C said, blowing a kiss in the camera.

“I love and miss you guys, I’ll see you later.” I smiled, hanging up.

=================================

Work was awful, being a shift manager was not all it was out to be. I hated dealing with difficult people and sometimes the other employees. I had just finished have a shouting match with this lady who was down right insulting both me and the other cashier working. I was so glad to be locking up once we closed, practically sprinting to my car, I was stopped by the cashier I had worked with tonight.

“Hey y/n, I-I was wondering you know if um..” he said.

Shit, I knew where this was going...

“Maybe we could hang out some time, I think you’re really pretty and uh...yeah I think we should get together more.” he spoke.

“That’s nice and all pal, but she has a boyfriend.” was heard from behind us.

I froze in my spot, tears coming to my eyes. I whipped around to see Rudy leaning against my car, his blue eyes zeroing in on the guy. He scurried off, leaving just Rudy and I.

“Hi baby,” Rudy spoke, a smile so wide on his face.

He looked different, having grown a mustache and slight beard. His hair was longer too, but still handsome as ever. I let out a watery laugh once I was out of my trance, blinking to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I dropped my stuff in front of my car, throwing myself in his arms.

“Oh my god, are you real? Are you really here?” I blubbered, pulling back to hold his face. He held me tight against him, combing some stray hair from my face.

“I’m here, you’re even more beautiful than I remember.” he gushed, beaming as he laid his forehead to mine.

“I look like shit Ru, I don’t even have makeup on.” I giggled, feeling his facial hair under my fingertips.

“You don’t need it, fuck I’m so happy to see you. I’m sorry we haven’t talked much, I’ve been so busy in meetings and filming.” he sighed, shaking his head.

“You came just at the right time, I have a whole week off of work.” I said, both of us grinning wide.

“Plenty of time for you to show me around then.” he smiled.

Rudy gripped my face in his hands, crushing his lips to mine. I had craved them for so long, having been deprived of the feeling. My heart went soaring, the feel of his facial hair tickling my skin. He moaned into my mouth, his hands moving to hold my hips to bring me closer. My fingers weaved their way into his now long blonde hair, tugging at the roots slightly.

I pulled away once I became dizzy, pulling my hands back to caress his face. He gave me little kisses all over my face, fully caging me against him so I couldn’t move away. Rudy laughed along with me, pulling back fully now.

“Guess you’ll be my chauffeur for the week babe.” he smirked, opening my door for me.

I chuckled as I got in my car, Rudy jogging to the passenger side. He held my hand for the drive to my apartment, pulling it to his lips to kiss the back of it. We jammed out to some of our favorite songs, dancing crazy. I had the windows down so we could blast my speakers, probably waking everyone in the neighborhood up. Rudy even pulled out his phone to record us rapping Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice, he got embarrassed after the first chorus though because that was the only part he knew and I was still going.

“Ok show off, trying to outshine me on my own Insta story.” he scoffed teasingly.

“Not my fault you don’t know the lyrical poet Ru,” I joked, sticking my tongue out at him.

===================================

I threw my bag on the end table as soon as we walked into the apartment, Rudy taking a walk around. He picked up pictures, looked at my bookcase, and even pulled out some of the books I had to skim through. I sat on my couch to flip through some movies for us to watch, not wanting to miss a single moment spending time with him. Rudy walked into my kitchen, opening my cabinets, and my fridge.

“Baby, why don’t you have anything to like eat or drink?” he called from the kitchen.

“I uh...I couldn’t afford to go to the store this payday. I had to pay my rent and my car payment which is basically my whole check, and the rest is for gas to school and work.” I murmured, knowing he was going to be upset with me.

“So like...what do you eat then?” he asked, peaking his head around to look at me.

I stared at the floor, chewing on the inside of my cheek. I could feel his anger radiating off of him, the tension in the room becoming nerve wracking. I was a poor college student ok, I didn’t have the luxury of my parents buying my way through it. I was lucky some nights to even have stuff to make a fucking cheese sandwich.

“I...I don’t.” I confessed, hearing a sharp scoff come from Rudy.

“Get your shoes back on.” he demanded, snatching my keys.

“Wha-...Where are we going?” I questioned.

“This shit isn’t going to continue, not on my watch. I am seriously pissed you didn’t tell me this.” he snapped, taking me aback for a moment.

“It’s not that big of a deal, you’re being over dramatic! It makes me lose weight so what’s the fucking problem?!” I yelled, Rudy whipped his head around, his mouth hanging open.

“The fucking problem is that I’m not going to sit here and watch my girlfriend struggle when I can help. Let me help you and stop being so stubborn. If you want to lose weight for you then that’s fine, but I don’t want you to have it in your head that you need to do it for me. You’re perfect to me.” he stated, earning an eye roll from me.

“Alright Ru, let’s get this over with.” I sighed, secretly melting at how sweet and thoughtful he is.

===============================

Goofing off in the store was all fun in games until I saw him..

Nick.

The guy that shredded my heart, still yet to be fixed. The guy that messed me up so bad I never thought I was deserving of love until Rudy came into my life. Rudy was in the middle of talking to me when I abruptly spun around and high tailed it out of the aisle.

“What’s wrong?” Rudy asked as soon as he caught up to me.

“We need to leave.” I declared.

“Babe, we haven’t even made it through half the store I-” he spoke.

“Hey y/n, long time no see.” someone said, my blood turning to ice. I turned around to see Nick with some of his friends, smirking at me.

“Um..” I stuttered.

“Who’s blondie?” Nick scoffed, pointing at Rudy.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Rudy said, glancing between the two of you. He must have put the pieces together from the very uncomfortable expression on my face.

“Boyfriend? Really y/n? You’re so desperate you hired someone to be your boyfriend? Pathetic really...” he laughed, his friends joining. I just wanted to ground to swallow me whole, I had to turn my head so they didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“You’re Nick, the piece of shit who thinks he can just toy with women how he pleases.” Rudy concluded.

“Guilty, y/n and I had a good run didn’t we?” Nick commented, going to touch my shoulder.

“You lay one finger on her and I swear to god you’ll regret it.” Rudy said, his voice going an octave lower.

“Oh please man, you seriously don’t have to keep your act up. How much is she paying you?” Nick asked, tilting his head.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but this isn’t an act.” Rudy hissed.

“Guys that look like us man don’t go for fat chicks.” Nick chuckled.

“The fuck did you just say?” Rudy bellowed, getting in Nick’s face. I had to intervene now, I couldn’t risk a fight in the middle of the store.

“Rudy please, he’s not worth it.” I said, tugging on his sleeve.

“Nice seeing you again y/n, remember what I said last time we spoke.” Nick cackled, leaving with his posse.

“What did that fucker say to you?” Rudy inquired, his chest heaving with anger.

“I’ll tell you when we get back, let’s just go to a different store.” I offered, checking out whatever we had in hand before heading to the car.

================================

Rudy spent way more than I told him he could, but I wasn’t surprised he didn’t listen to me. It took us four trips to carry in all the stuff we bought, I’m sure I’d be stocked up for a year now. I was seriously exhausted, and my mood hadn’t gotten any better since our run in with Nick. Rudy had tried to cheer me up, but I think he knew that my mood wouldn’t be saved tonight.

I planned on taking a quick shower, but I couldn’t stop my mind running through my past. My chest started to burn, my hand came over my mouth to conceal my sobs. I had hoped the water would drown out my cries, but Rudy still heard them. He shed his clothes and jumped in the shower, taking me in his arms. I leaned my head on his chest as I sobbed, his lips moving to kiss my wet hair.

“I don’t understand! What did I ever do to deserve that!? I did everything for him! I was some sick game our whole relationship, how fucked up is that?” I laughed humorlessly.

“What did he say to you?” he inquired.

“He told me that I would never find someone to love me, that I was undeserving of love, and that I was the ugliest being on this Earth who was stupid to think I ever stood a chance with him.” I recalled.

“That’s fucked up, you should have let me beat his ass.” Rudy muttered, switching places with me so he could wash his hair.

“He’ll get his karma one day, someone will shred his heart beyond repair just like he did mine.” I whispered.

“I’ll have the best time repairing it then,” Rudy shrugged, leaning to plant a sweet kiss to my lips.

“Are you sure you want to go through that Rudy, I-I’m not...I’m not as happy go lucky as everyone thinks I am, I’m broken deep on the inside.” I said, shaking my head as I looked down to the tile.

“I wouldn’t of chased after you if I didn’t want all of you.” he spoke, tilting my chin up.

“Well I guess so but-” I started.

“It’s you and me against the world, no one will ever compare to you y/n.” he inputted.

I kissed him hard, a moan leaving his lips. He pinned me against the wall, showing me exactly what I meant to him....

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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

Text

pink cherry blossoms.

pairing: changbin x (gender neutral) reader.

genre: high school au ; fluff.

⇥ warnings: none, changbin is Y/N’s high school pen pal + bf + and she’s a foreign exchange student uwu. 🥰

word count: 1.4 K

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Seo Changbin, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: drabble.

network tag: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz + @sunoo-luvs

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @pinkchcn (requests for this are closed now!)

!!!; bold italics indicate Changbin’s letter.

↯ note: hhhhhh so the story for this comes from when I first read your url, I read it as “pink chicken” siudhyuegfw I’m so sorry if has a deeper meaning I by no means meant to mock it I swear. 😭 Hope you enjoy this blurb tho, this is in no way comparable to your awesome writing you queen but I tried. 😔 Happy reading! <33⇥ dawn.☀️

↯ note 2: Okay now that tumblr officially fucked with my self-esteem + the tags I am glad to announce that this is officially the worst fic ever Kai I’m so sorry I made you read this. 😭 I’ll go boo at myself now bye :(( ⇥ dawn.☀️

“Y/N-ah, you got mail.” Your roommate chimed in Japanese, throwing the envelope on top of your sleeping form. You groaned, shuffling under the mess of sheets. It was a Sunday, of all times! What reason did your friend find to wake you up early? You didn’t take the intrusion of sleep well.

“What?” Grubbily, you straightened up from the lower bunk of the bed, rubbing over your eyes as you squinted to look at your friend, who was silently giggling at the way your hair looked like a bird’s nest, all poofed up and sticking out in random places. “You got mail.” She repeated, tucking back her neatly combed hair behind her ear, before plopping a small parcel in front of you. “The letter was attached to this.”

“I know that.” You asked, throwing the blankets over your torso, snuggling into it’s warmth. “What could be so important that you had to wake me up for the mail?’ A soft huff from your lips and you rubbed over your eyes, trying to push away any remnants of sleep. “Couldn’t you have just left it on my table?” Shoving the envelope to the side.

“It’s from your boyfriend~” Your friend in a sing song voice, laughing when you lit up at the little admission. “Have fun reading it! I’m gonna go to the park. You need something?”

“Get me some cherry blossoms.” You stretched your limbs, any last signs of grubbiness gone with the wind. It was officially spring, which meant that the whole city was coated in pink, cherry blossoms of varying shades everywhere, and you loved the scenery they provided — especially from your balcony.

“Are you gonna send them to Changbin?” Your friend asked.

“Oh gosh, are you gonna keep asking me questions or are you gonna go?” Grabbing the pillow behind you, you chucked it at her head, laughing in victory when she was unable to dodge it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “See you later.”

Deciding it as a good time to get out of bed, you quickly brushed your teeth, washed your face and tied your hair into a braid before staring at the envelope strewn on the bed. Your two other roommates were both outside already — you could read the letter in peace.

Plopping yourself onto the soft mattress, you covered yourself with the blankets once again before turning the envelope in your hand. Your address was neatly written in his handwriting, followed by three hearts and one winky face. The drawings warmed your heart as you unwrapped the package that came along with it.

It took you a while, but you eventually had the box opened and the tore the envelope, revealing a small piece of paper that had been crookedly folded in half, as though in hurry. Knowing Changbin, you knew better than to just assume that the letter was short, because that man had the tiniest handwriting you’d ever seen — being his pen pal meant you’d have to basically become a human magnifying glass.

Grabbing your reading glasses, you let them hang over your nose as you squinted, trying to read the letter.

Dear Y/N,

Hi^^ hope you’re having a lovely time there, darling~ it’s been going quite okay here. >w< Binnie misses you a lot-

You bit your lip to stifle your laughter. The fact that he’d actually bothered to draw emojis and use aegyo in his letter made you melt in warmth. You sunk back into the plush cushions as you continued reading his letter.

-and I sure hope you’re missing me too okay !! >:( don’t forget about me !! Anyways, it’s starting to get cold over here and mom forces me to pull over that dusty jacket that only makes me sneeze. Honestly I wish you were here, I miss your cuddles :(( But how’s everything going on there? Are you eating properly? Are you getting sufficient sleep? You better or else I’m gonna revoke my cuddles and hugs when you get back here after two months !! Remember to eat, drink water and sleep well okay!! That’s an order!! Or else. >:(

By the time you reached this part of the letter, you were already melting at how adorably concerned he sounded, even through writing. Your giggles were taking no name to stop as you clutched your letter. Feeling the heat creep up to your cheeks as you sighed, in love. You loved how he could make you forget everything around you and drown in everything Seo Changbin, and Seo Changbin only.

Anyways, I sent something for you!! Open the package !! ^^ It reminded me of you so I hope you liked it.

You tilted your head to the side as you flipped the lid of the box open, looking at one of those customizable “summer greetings” card (which was weird, considering that he’d just said it was getting colder)… and, a chicken?

You scowled in confusion as you picked up the plastic object, examining it thoroughly i your hands. It was colored in the usual hues of a normal chicken, but it nonetheless confused you. It reminded you of one of those plastic toys Changbin’s niece owned — in fact, you were almost 85% sure it was his niece’s.

“This reminded him of me? What the hell!” You glanced at the letter with a pout on your face, eyes searching for answers. For some reasons, butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach, producing a jittery sensation. Ignoring that, you continued reading, noticing a portion of the letter remaining.

Okay keukeukeukeu now that you’ve probably opened it you’re most likely confused and mad at me, and to that I say it was a prank :D That was’s Hyunae’s old toys keukeukeukeu hope you got fooled though. >:) Remove the cloth from the box and see what’s underneath now^^ Promise it’s not a chicken keukeukeuekeu >w<

You narrowed your eyes at the piece of paper, and then the box, noticing the cloth that seemed like it covered something underneath. Reaching out for it, you placed the box in your lap before holding your breath, gently taking the fabric out. You couldn’t be blamed for being nervous, okay? You just received a toy chicken as a souvenir from your boyfriend! A chicken, out of all things!

But, however, your suspicions were put to rest when the cloth was lifted. What you saw inside the box, was by far and most easily, one of the most beautiful gifts you’d ever received, and you felt a slight pang in your heart as your jaw dropped in awe.

It was a dark metal hairband, but the thing that was pretty about it was the tiny cherry blossoms that were arranged on top of it — just by looking at it, you could tell Changbin had spent hours making and coloring those clay flowers, let along moulding and placing them so perfectly. Small, shiny pearls placed in the centre of each flower shined in the light, and you internally swooned at hoe pretty it looked. Nothing could compare to anything you’d bought from the store, ever.

So this was his gift, huh?

“Wow,” You mumbled to yourself, gently and carefully sliding the headband onto your hair. It was heavy, but not that heavy and comfortable enough to wear frequently, you continued reading.

Aaaah i really hope you like it !! I spent about three days making this in craft class, and even the teacher said it came out well (also this reminded me of you please don’t be mad keukeukeuekue), I hope you like it darling !! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Remember to write back to me okay !! I love you !! take care darling, bye~

With love

your boyfriend Seo Changbin. ♡ ♡

You smiled when the letter ended, almost (almost) tearing up with how touched you were. Changbin had immense craftmanship indeed, but this by far, was one of the most beautiful pieces he’d ever made, let alone gifted to you.

“Wow, that’s pretty! Did Changbin send that?” You snapped up to look at your friend, who gazed at your headband in awe.

“Yeah!” Covering your mouth, you giggled. “Did you bring it?”

“Mhm,” Your friend carefully handed the delicate flower to you, and you quickly rushed to your cupboard, getting the little journal you’d made over the three months you were here. Once you sat back down on the bed after grabbing a pen, you opened the page titled ‘Spring’ and cautiously taped the cherry blossom onto the page, closing the book shit so it could be pressed into paper. After that it was the obvious, you quickly wrote him a note, smiling to yourself as you ran your hand across the flower crown you adorned on your head.

And of course, when Changbin opened the package two days later to receive the moderately fresh, pressed flower along with your stories and your note, a smile pulled at his lips in an instant.

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor at least this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

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lu-undy · 3 years ago

Text

Un-alone, Chapter 4

Here it is!

“I’m so happy they let you stay here, at least for the wedding and all.”

“I am absolutely delighted, petite fleur.”

[little flower]

Lucien took Marie’s hand and looked at the ring on their fingers.

“I can hardly believe that I am now married.” He said.

“That’s what I should be saying.” She answered.

“How on Earth could you think that no man would marry you?”

“I’m not the marryin’ type. Just never saw the point of it.”

“Oh…”

“Until now.”

They exchanged a conniving smile and a kiss that of course Marie initiated.

“Lulu?”

“Oui.”

“I love you.”

He blushed.

“So do I, infinitely.”

And now it was raining. Hold on, how could it be raining, they were inside? And why was it so hot?

“Oh merde…”

Lucien woke up, or rather his hot tears woke him up. He looked at the time and it was barely 4 in the morning. He tried to fall back asleep after wiping his face with the back of his hand, but to no avail. So after fighting with himself, he decided to pull himself out of his bed.

He sighed and took a shower just to chase the last bit of hope for sleep away before realising that he hadn’t had anything to eat for more than 24 hours. So he headed out of his room and of his hotel, in search of some food.

He found barely anything edible so he dragged his feet in a city that he started to hate profoundly until he found himself in a park. He sat on the first free bench he encountered and waited.

For what?

He thought that he would wait for the first few cafés to open up to get himself some decent breakfast. But in truth, the more he waited, the less he wanted to move.

"Hey…"

Lucien smelled the intrusion before he could hear or see it. It was a beggar. The poor man sat next to the prim one, who was still wearing his black suit. Lucien took a cigarette and lit it.

Ooh, that one was a good one, extra bitter from his fasting. Perfect. It burnt his trachea to the point of pulling the tears out of his eyes.

"You up early, eh?"

"I am." The Frenchman said.

“Somethin’s on your mind?”

Lucien frowned and sucked on his cigarette harder.

“I just lost my wife.” He coldly said and getting the words out of his mouth was both extremely easy and unbelievably hard.

“Oh, wow… ‘m sorry…” The beggar removed his worn out hat. He scratched his bushy beard. “Is that why you’re out this early? Ya couldn’t sleep?”

“Oui, exactly.”

“I see. You don’t seem too old though, pal. The missus was young?”

“Younger than me, and infinitely better.”

“Arh… I‘m real sorry, man…”

“Mh.” Lucien sucked on his cigarette more and he realised that it was finished. He took his cigarette case out and offered one to the beggar, whose eyebrows jumped before he accepted.

“That’s kind of ya.”

Lucien lit both of them and smoked again.

“The worst part is that I wasn’t there for her.”

“In the end?”

“Non, all along. I barely was at her side, and wasn’t there for her last moments.”

“Why?” The beggar asked, seeing that his improvised bench-friend was now leading the conversation.

“Because I made the wrong choice decades ago. I chose my career over her.”

“So you left her all that time ago? But she’s still your wife?”

“Non, she…” Lucien raised a trembling hand to his brow, while holding his cigarette between his fingers. “She agreed to it.”

“What…?”

“She agreed to it. I was married to the only woman in the world who… putain de merde…”

[fucking hell...]

The beggar’s eyebrows were still up.

“Doesn’t sound like your typical gal, eh… Did she leave anythin’ to you?”

Lucien’s eyes slashed to the beggar’s and he might have shot bullets out of them. Money was a dirty topic and Lucien didn’t want any of Marie’s hard earned dollars.

“Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean it for the cash! I meant like souvenirs or somethin’.”

Lucien exhaled and looked away.

“Only a letter.”

“Oh… What’s it say?”

Lucien frowned. It wasn’t like him to openly pour his life into the first stranger to come into his life. It was immensely dangerous. What if that man wasn’t a beggar but another, less than friendly spy?

“She is asking me for two favours.”

“Oh ho, let’s hear it.”

Lucien took the letter out of his pocket and read it again, squinting at the letters to imagine the pen gliding, the ink absorbing into the grainy paper, all of this under her soft hand…

“When I met her, I was a singer.” Lucien started. “She is asking me to continue singing.”

“Oh, that’s sweet, eh. Women are like that...”

“Oui.” Lucien read it all diagonally again. He knew the letter by heart and it bore very little magic anymore, although paradoxically, it was the most precious object in the world.

“What’s the other thing?”

“We… We had a son.”

“Had?” The older man asked. “Did he also…?”

“Non, he is alive and well.” Lucien folded the letter and put it back in his breast pocket. “She asked me to help him in life with a job. She thinks he is gifted.”

“What d’you work as?” The beggar asked.

“The worst.” Lucien answered.

“Well, a job’s a job, eh? Puts food on the table. Can you get him to work with you, whatever you’re doin’?”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped and he winced.

“Never!” He answered and almost jumped on his seat. “My occupation is a nightmare, a hell that is painfully real. I do not wish for anyone to follow my footsteps, especially him, because in the end, he will surely make the same mistakes as I did. He might choose his work over his own life and lose the only woman who ever understood him.”

“You’re wrong, pal.”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped and he turned his head to the beggar. He was shaking his head.

“He might like the job, he might even be good at it, do something good with his life. And it’d put his Ma’ to rest too. Look, there aren’t any half-jobs, or bad ones. It’s only bad if you don’t like it. And if the wife’s seen somethin’ in him, then surely there is. Or maybe you don’t agree with her? Don’t you see him like she does?”

“I do not see him, full stop.” Lucien answered. “I do not see him because I was there for him up until his mind could remember me.”

“That’s when ya left?”

Lucien nodded.

“If you don’t mind me sayin’... That’s a hell of a mess you’ve lived through, man. I mean. You get married to a woman and you agree to live separated for decades you say? And you leave her with the kid too? Bit odd, eh?”

The Frenchman held his head in his gloved hands, his cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Besides… About your son, he's already lost his Mum. You're the only thing he has left even though it's tough with you."

Lucien sighed.

"Yeah, a mess of a life you built yourself, I don’t know how you’re gonna get yourself straight after all that.”

Lucien took a deep breath and stood up.

“I will not.”

He left the bench and walked some more. He carefully avoided any and all places that carried some souvenirs until he fell deep in thought. He didn’t see the streets, Boston waking up and going to work. Non, he only saw his black shoes swallowing more and more of the grey pavement, his heels lightly clicking with every step, stabbing his ears.

Cafés were opening thankfully and he entered the first one to cross his path. Lucien went to a table in the corner and sat down, with the window on his right hand.

“Hey there, how can I help?”

“A black coffee please.”

The waitress disappeared and he lit yet another cigarette. He saw in his metallic case that he was eating the cigarettes way faster than in normal circumstances. Marie would have told him off…

His coffee landed in front of him and soon, people started coming and going in the café, bringing some distraction to the grieving man. He had hoped that sitting next to the window would help with that too, but to no avail.

He did the only thing he could to not let his mind play any more tricks on him and took a sip of the coffee. Ah, hot and bitter. It burnt his tongue and left an awful aftertaste that lingered all the way down to his stomach.

Lucien frowned and put the cup back on the table before opening the letter again. His mind rolled and rolled. He would do anything for Marie, but would he have liked Jérémy to become a spy too? Surely the boy could do something better than that, better than himself. Yet she said that he was gifted and Lucien knew that she was an admirable judge of character.

“Mh…” He grumbled and shook his head.

He didn’t want his son to follow his path. It was way too dangerous, and for what in the end? Nothing. Nothing was worth losing his family and his life over.

And then Fred's words came to Lucien.

So that was the plan the Ministry had for his retirement, huh? Turn him into an instructor? Pfff… If he could, he'd burst into the Minister's office and he'd have a word with him! But Lucien was in America, thousands of miles away from the office that now doomed him further.

“What did he have?”

“A black coffee.”

“Bring me the same, yeah?”

“Sure thing!”

A silhouette appeared in front of Lucien.

“I see you haven’t killed anyone yet, eh?”

Lucien frowned and still refused to make eye contact with his American colleague.

“HQ is mad at the damage you did in the gym the other day.” He took his pack of cigarettes and lit one up as the waitress brought him his coffee. “They say they’ll make you pay for repairs.”

“What more do they want? Do I need to bury myself in the ground next to Marie for everyone to leave me in peace?” Lucien answered in a sigh.

Fred fell silent for a moment, looking at people coming and going. He waited for Lucien to drink a bit more to start the conversation again.

“Managed to sleep at all?”

Lucien eventually raised his eyes to his American colleague. The dark circles around his eyes answered for him.

“Thought about what I told you the other day?”

“Oui, and my answer is non. I am quitting. This is it.”

“You might wanna reconsider that, pal.” Fred put the cigarette on his lips and took an envelope out of his coat pocket. He slid it on the table.

“What is this?”

“Work.”

“For me?” Lucien asked.

“Yup.”

“Fred, I said I am quitting.” Lucien pushed the envelope back to the American.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell anyone yet. So here’s work.”

The Frenchman frowned and shook his head.

“Non.”

“Listen, pal, you can resign all you want but they’re gonna receive your letter after they sent you this, so they’ll expect you to do this first. You can then try and ask them to leave without training a newbie, but I doubt they’ll accept. Everyone does that now. The hard days of the war in Europe are over. You and I were trained like no people should be trained, but that’s what makes us so good at what we’re doin’. They want us to pass on the tricks and all to the younger ones.”

“I could hardly care less. I have nothing left on this Earth to care about.”

“Wouldn’t that exactly make you the best spy?” Fred asked and Lucien stared in his eyes for a long second before averting his gaze. “Open the file.”

Lucien sighed. He hung his menthol cigarette between his lips and pulled the file to himself before opening it. His stare was still slicing through Fred’s.

“I am not doing it out of anything but my own curiosity.”

“I know.”

The envelope yielded and Lucien retrieved the papers and pictures. The French spy read the file diagonally. He knew how mission orders worked all too well.

“Seems easy enough, doesn’t it?” Fred said, observing his friend discover the mess of a file he had been handed. “And yet, we’re up against the Soviets to find that guy before they do.”

“This might seem easy,” Lucien answered and removed the cigarette from between his lips to tap it against the ashtray. “However, above anything else, this is an American problem.” He put the papers and pictures together and slid them back into the envelope before sliding it back to Fred.

“Yep, you’re right.”

“It doesn't bear any sign of it being given by the French government. We have no input in this.”

“Yep, absolutely.” Fred sucked on his cigarette and blew the smoke away. “But this thing here, it’s been botherin’ me and my friends for far too long.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. How was that any of his problems?

“So here’s the deal. You do this for me, and I’ll pay for the repairs for the gym in your place.”

Lucien burst out laughing.

“You do surprise me, Fred. You should know me better than this.” He scoffed.

“Yep, so let me put this differently…” Fred shifted closer to the table and laced his fingers together. He bent closer to Lucien opposite him. “This is my pay back.”

“What for?” Lucien asked arrogantly.

"You owe me, Frenchie."

"And what for, huh?" Lucien scoffed.

“Mary.”

Lucien’s smile shattered and his brow furrowed.

“Listen, pal. While you were tourin’ the world and huntin’ Nazis and all, someone here had to look after the missus. More than twenty years I kept an eye on her for you, for nothing more than friendship. Now, I’ve got this case,” Fred pointed at the envelope, half annoyed and three quarters fed up. “The guy’s a goddamn pain in my ass to get, been on him for years and the Soviets might be closer than we are to get him.”

“So you blackmail me because you are desperate?” Lucien hurt him back, clearly signalling that he did not appreciate Fred’s way of doing things.

Fred frowned and sighed.

“I blackmail you because I’m stuck and you’re the best spy I know, you fancy ass.”

Lucien shook his head and smirked.

“I am indeed exactly that, without a doubt, you mannerless primate. But Marie is dead and gone. I have nothing left that ties me to this job or this life.”

“You got your son.”

“And?”

“The kid’s homeless and jobless. Good at baseball but absolute shit at school. He’s never gonna be as successful as his dear Papa.” Fred arrogantly answered.

“Do not speak of him.” Lucien looked away and contained his anger but Fred knew his friend all too well, and his reaction there betrayed his emotion.

“Take him in to help. You’ll spend some quality time and hit all the birds in the world with one stone. You’ll do me a favour and you’ll get him a job and a future, and!” Fred raised a triumphant index finger. “You’ll train a rookie so they’ll be very happy high up. And who knows? The kid might have gotten somethin’ from you after all, eh?”

Lucien frowned.

“After all that, you can call it quits. Just vanish again, fly back to Paris or the fuckin’ Moon for all I care. You’ll have cleared your slate.”

Lucien sighed in exasperation.

“I will not involve him.”

“So you’re gonna let him be jobless, homeless and orphaned longer, eh?”

“He is not an orphan.” Lucien’s jaw was tense.

“It’s all the same. Lives with his auntie now and two little cousins who look up to one bad slice of an example. I don’t want to hurt you further but the kid doesn’t listen, he doesn’t stay home. He spends his life outside and doesn’t have anything to do, he’s practically in a limbo of his own. You and I both know what happens to kids like that. They either finish on our side of the bars or the other.”

Lucien winced at the thought of Jérémy breaking the law, getting caught and sent to jail. What would Marie think…?

“Best thing you can do is just do it. Go through it and get done. You don’t even need to tell him you’re his Dad! And you don’t have to babysit him either, he’s overage now. Can vote, go to college or buy a gun and make his life a livin’ hell and fuck Mary’s efforts up!”

Lucien held the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“You do as you wish, pal.”

Fred crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up before he left the café, leaving the envelope on the table. Lucien watched him and waited for the American to be out of sight before cursing in his mother tongue. His fingers slid to his head and he grasped handfuls of his hair, staring at the bottom of his near empty coffee cup.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #unalone

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding On

Ch 16- A Whole Fucking Hand Of Aces Part 1

Summary: It’s the run up to Christmas now for our favourite family, but it isn’t all happiness and smiles as Greg brings Fliss and Frank some worrying news about their adoption application. When Fliss enrols Bonnie’s help and the two women turn detective they uncover something that leaves Fliss both stunned and shocked. But, after a little contemplation, her and Frank realise that maybe, just maybe, they can work this to their advantage after all.

Warnings: Some VERY Bad Language words (Frank has a potty mouth…) Descriptions of panic attack-please avoid if this triggers.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Some nitty, gritty action and angst over this chapter so I hope you’re ready… buckle up! Big thanks to @icanfeelastormbrewing for reading this (sorry Frank had to put a shirt on) and @southerngracela for helping me with a crucial bit here that I have very limited experience on.

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 15

When you’re weak, I’ll be strong. When you let go, I’ll hold on. When you need to cry, I swear that I’ll be there to dry your eyes. When you feel lost and scared to death, like you can’t take one more step, just take my hand, together we can do it. I’m gonna love you through it.

December 2019

Fliss set the mug down on the coffee table in front of where Greg sat in the arm chair. Their friend had called earlier that day to say he had finally had a response from an attorney representing Bradley Polland, Mary’s biological father regarding the Adoption.

And it hadn’t been good news. Frank’s worse fear had been realised, the man was contesting. Frank hadn’t received the news particularly well, storming out of work and straight home, blazing in a fit of anger that was very unlike him, and Fliss had taken charge and asked Greg to come over later that night once Mary was in bed so they could discuss it in a calm and hopefully logical manner. As always, he was happy to oblige.

Greg flashed Fliss a smile and thanked her before she sat next to Frank on the sofa, her hand reaching for his. Their fingers laced together and she gave a little squeeze and he looked at her, giving her a tight smile.

“Don’t get too despondent yet.” Greg sighed, “I know it’s shitty but like I said on the phone Frank, we have a damned good chance on winning this in court.”

“I just don’t fucking understand Greg.” Frank shook his head “Why? Why is he contesting? He doesn’t give a shit about her, we know that. He’s never even laid eyes on her in person. Fucking ass hole.” His tone we venomous, his face creased in anger and Fliss gently squeezed his fingers again. He took a deep breath and shook his head “Sorry, I’m just…” “Buddy, I can’t begin to imagine how you feel.” Greg sighed, “And I’m sorry I can’t answer your question because I don’t know what his reasoning is.” The man shrugged as he took a sip of his tea. “Maybe the fact that the adoption would completely remove any rights he has to her has sparked some deep buried paternal instinct...” “Bull shit.” Frank scoffed, leaning back in his chair. Greg looked at Fliss who took a deep breath.

“So, what happens now?” she asked, trying to keep calm. One of them had to have a level head after all.

“Well, there’ll be a little to-ing and fro-ing before court but my first action, which I did as soon as that letter landed this morning, was to get onto Child Welfare. They’ll prep a report on Mary, how settled she is, happy, basically in support of the adoption.” Greg licked his lips “But I want you both to know, that there is absolutely no way that Mary is gonna get taken away from you.” He looked at Frank straight in the eyes as Frank looked back. “Even if Polland petitions for custody, which he won’t…” he held his hand up, cutting Frank off before he could start again “No Court in their right mind is gonna rip her out of her home here and put her with him, not now. You have Legal Guardian Status Frank, that’s not gonna change. At most he will get visitation.”

“What if Mary doesn’t want to see him?” Fliss asked as Frank looked away, his eyes roving over the garden are which was light up by the various solar lights speckled around the decking and lawn, the pool lights turning the whole area to the left of the garden a vivid shade of aqua, desperately trying to keep his cool.

“Then the CWD will reflect that in their report.” Greg nodded. “But this is absolute worst case scenario. You both need to understand that there is a really, really high chance that the court will overrule his objection and allow the Adoption to go through anyway. She’s been with you all her life Frank, whilst he may have a biological link to her, he has nothing else. And the court won’t look favourably on his actions. We saw that in the case versus your mother.” “So this might actually not mean a thing?” Fliss looked at Greg.

“Exactly.” Greg smiled “You’re in a very good position. This…it’s just a little bump in the road.”

“Then why does it feel like a huge fucking road block?” Frank looked at Greg and his best friend sighed.

“Because you’re panicking.” Greg said simply “You’re over thinking it, like you always do. Trust me Frank, this is going to change nothing…” “How can you say that?” Frank looked at him. “Of course it’s gonna change something, that little girl up there thinks we’re gonna be adopting her and now I’m gonna haff to tell her that that might naht be the case…”

His accent grew thicker, the way it always did when he was emotional and Fliss squeezed his hand once more and turned to face him.

“Frank, nothing changes from our home front, that’s what Greg means.” She said, and Greg nodded in agreement. “And as for telling her, then we do what we always do. We be honest, we explain it simply and we reassure her if she gets anxious. That’s all we can do for now. And then, whatever happens we face it together as a family.” Frank sighed and looked down at his feet before he looked at Greg, shaking his head “Sorry man, I didn’t mean to snap.” “Don’t sweat it.” Greg shook his head “But I mean what I say pal, this isn’t like last time when, I’ll be honest, I didn’t think we had a cat in hells chance of keeping her from your mother, despite how much I was behind you, and you know that. This time, well, not only have your entire circumstances changed now in that she has a perfect home, a family, stability…” he took a deep breath, “And you are her legal guardian. No court will strip that from you unless there’s exceptional circumstances. And these are not. The only card Polland has to play is that he still has his Parental Rights, he’s got nothing else. He has never met her, never talked to her, never paid a dime towards her. In contrast, you on the other hand have a whole fucking hand of Aces to play back. There’s no way she’s going anywhere, adoption or not, which is the main thing here. That she stays with you. You two are her parents in everything but name and the court and CWD will see that.”

There was nothing much more that Greg could tell them at that point, other than to walk them through the next steps in a little more detail. He talked them through how the CWD would be in contact and that they’d want to speak to Mary alone, then they’d want to speak to both of them too, and that was as far as he was prepared to go, refusing to even think about anything beyond that. Which in itself was frustrating the hell out of Frank, but Fliss understood exactly why Greg was being so reserved. It was information overload, and Frank being the very analytical and cerebral person he was would end up even more frustrated as Greg would have no answer to the barrage of questions he was likely to have.

It was only when Alex made the familiar noises of hunger that the 3 of them called time on their discussion and Fliss stood up and headed to the bassinet to the side of the sofa.

"He's getting so big." Greg beamed and Alex, momentarily forgetting his hunger, locked his eyes onto his godfather's and gave him a huge smile. "Hey fella!" Greg ran a finger down his cheek and Alex wiggled his arms in response. "He looks like you pal." Greg looked at Frank as he grinned. "Poor little bugger."

“Fuck you.” Frank snorted, and Fliss pouted dramatically.

"I happen to think is daddy is very handsome." She looked at Frank whose lips curled into a smile at one side for what felt like the first time that day before he turned to Greg.

"I'll see you out."

Greg looked at him and then nodded, and with a final goodbye to Fliss, he left the family room with Frank behind him

“Tell me honestly Greg, and no bullshit…” Frank looked ad his friend as they strode towards Greg’s silver benz which was parked behind Fliss’ Cherokee “Am I gonna lose her?”

“Have you just listened to a damned word I said Frank?” Greg looked at him. “Read my lips. Not a chance. Honestly Frank, you have the upper hand here. This is nothing like last time.”

Frank nodded and gave his friend a tight smile as he climbed into his car, turning and heading back inside giving a whistle for Thor to follow him, the dog having wandered outside at the same time he had. But despite his friend’s assurances, he just couldn’t shake the worry from the back of his mind that this entire thing was going to rip their family apart.

He paused in the doorway and watched Fliss who was now feeding Alex his bottle, her eyes locked on that of their son and he felt a little lump in his throat. He swallowed and spoke, his voice sounding strangely far away to him.

“Want me to do that?” he asked. Fliss looked at him, immediately recognising his offer for what it actually was, a request. He wanted to do it. And she knew why. It was a way to keep himself grounded, away from the spiralling thoughts in his mind.

“Sure.” She nodded as Frank sat down. She handed Alex over and then kissed Frank’s cheek. “Try not to worry sweetheart, I know it’s a shitty set back but it’ll work out.”

“You’re optimistic.” Frank looked down at Alex as he took his milk before he glanced up at Fliss “I wish I was.”

“You heard Greg.” She gently lay her hand on his neck, her fingers softly stroking at his skin of the nape “This isn’t like last time.”

“I know.” He nodded, before he fixed a smile on his face “Why don’t you go for that bath you were talking about before?”

“You gonna be ok?”

He nodded “Yeah, I’ll be up once he’s finished.”

“Ok.” Fliss nodded, kissing him again before she stood up and left Frank alone with his son.

**** Try as he might Frank couldn’t sleep that night, his mind was whirring at 100 miles an hour, and in the end he gave up before his tossing and turning disturbed either Fliss or Alex. He climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before he peered down at Alex who was asleep in his crib. As he headed to the door he reached down and gave Thor’s ears a scratch as the dog looked up from his spot in his basket before he padded silently into the hallway and softly pushed Mary’s bedroom door open. She too was fast asleep, Fred curled up next to her head on the pillow. She looked so peaceful, so content. And Frank knew that’s because she was. She was safe, she was loved, she was wanted- boy was she wanted- and the thought that her life, that their lives might be upturned by that shit head Polland made Frank’s stomach churn.

He knew he was over thinking things. He had always been the same. He retreated into his mind, and no matter how many times Fliss or Greg had told him not to worry that night he just couldn’t help it. He’d almost lost her once, and the thought that he might actually lose her for good this time was unbearable. His mouth suddenly became dry and he needed a drink, so closing the door behind him softly he headed down the stairs and pulled open the fridge, reaching for a bottle of water.

He drained the bottle in one but that did nothing to help the hot and clammy feeling that was now washing over him, causing a light beading of sweat to dust his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and as he did so his belly dropped out from him and a sick feeling spread across his body, almost like he was going to puke. He gripped the edge of the counter, hovering over the sink, eyes closed as the room began to spin and his chest suddenly began to hurt. He found himself unable to catch his breath as his throat tightened and he scrunched his eyes shut as they were burning from the unshed, salty tears. Then, he could hold the feeling of desperation and panic no more and he turned, sliding to the floor in a dishevelled heap, his back banging painfully against the lower kitchen cabinets as he struggled to ground himself. When his chest finally released enough for him to take a huge, shaky, painful breath it was all too much and his anxiety poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears, the deep emotions stirring with no other outlet but his silent crying.

How long he was there he had no idea, locked in his own mind and worries, but then a voice broke through the cloud in his mind and a familiar presence filled his senses.

“Frankie…” Fliss gently placed her hand on Frank’s shoulder as she knelt down next to him. “Oh Baby…”

He mumbled something incoherent, choking on his sobs, his face buried between his arms as they hugged his knees to his chest, and she moved to wrap her arms around him. His own arms moved and he wrapped them around her back, clinging to her with a desperation she’d never seen or felt from him before as he pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder.

“Shhhh, I got you…” she whispered to him, kissing his head. “I got you.”

The two of them sat on the kitchen floor, Fliss soothing him, pressing the odd kiss to his head, running her hand up his spine over his t-shirt with one hand, the fingers of the other fingers brushing the back of his neck, a movement she knew he found comforting. Knowing from her own experiences, there was nothing else to be done other than stay with him and let him cry it out she did just that. Eventually, she felt his broad shoulders begin to relax a little as his sobs turned into smaller cries, which then morphed into small hiccups, until eventually they subsided completely and there was no sound in the room bar his deep, ragged breathing. After a moment or so of relative quiet, he pulled away and Fliss turned her head towards him, taking in his appearance and it broke her heart. His face was red and blotchy, those blue eyes she could drown in were bloodshot and looked at her sadly from beneath puffy eyelids. He moved his arm to wipe at his nose and then took a deep, stuttering breath.

“You with me?” Fliss asked gently and he nodded, taking another shaky breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.” He spoke, his throat felt raw and his voice was gruff and croaky, not sounding like his own. Fliss shook her head.

“Don’t you dare apologise Frank.” She said gently “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“We had such a wonderful Thanksgiving a few weeks ago, and we should be looking forward to Alex’s first Christmas and now…” “Hey, hey…” Fliss cut him off, her hands taking his face gently, pads of her fingers threading into his beard. “Thanksgiving was wonderful, because we were all together. Christmas is gonna be wonderful because we will still all be together.”

“I can’t lose her Liss, I can’t lose any of you, I just…” “And you’re not gonna.” She said, her voice calm and quiet. “Greg told you this before. The worst that can happen is Polland is gonna get visitations.” “But what if she wants to live with him? What if she-“ “Oh Frank.” Fliss sighed “That’s not even a remote possibility. Mary worships the ground you walk on. She adores Alex. She loves her home, her life…if anything, I think she’s going to refuse to even see him. You saw how heartbroken she was that day we had to talk her out of the bathroom during the court-case. She won’t have forgotten that.”

Frank raised his eyes to Fliss’ and she smiled at him softly, her hands still on his face “Baby, she might only be 9 but she’s not stupid. She knows you gave everything you had to make sure she’s had a good life. You kept her safe, loved. I’ll say it over and over till I’m blue in the face Frank, you ARE her father. In everything but biology. And Bill and I are proof here that biology doesn’t mean a fucking thing.”

“She adores you too you know.” Frank said, and Fliss smiled softly pressing her forehead to his

“Good because I adore her right back. And her big, soft, lump of an uncle-slash-father who happens to be a wonderful man with a huge heart, who knows he isn’t perfect but doesn’t try to be.” Her hands slid down from his face, one resting on his shoulder, the other back to stroking the nape of his neck. Frank closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as her touch washed over him. “A man who strives every day to be the best version of himself, but doesn’t really need to because he’s already the best daddy and partner in the world.”

“Liss I’m not-“ “You’re not perfect, yes I know.” She smiled “But that makes you perfect to me.”

Frank took a deep breath and closed his eyes as her fingers continued to gently stroke at his neck, all the time her movements sending gently sparks of warmth down his back. His breathing had settled down now, his tears stopped. He felt calmer.

“I love you.” He said softly and Fliss smiled, pulling back a little

“I know.” She looked at him “I love you too.”

His hand reached up for the one that was resting on his shoulder and his fingers tangled with hers, and he squeezed gently, relishing the feel of her engagement ring as it pressed against his middle and ring finger. And then, almost by magic, a soft gurgle came from the baby monitor on the side in the kitchen.

“See, Bean loves his daddy too.” Fliss smiled and Frank gave a little chuckle. “Wanna come back to bed?”

He nodded.

Fliss stood up and offered Frank her hand, tugging him up beside her. Without a word she led him down the hall and up the stairs. Frank headed straight to Alex who was on his back, his eyes flickering as he slept, his head turned gently to the right, little hand curling by his cheek. Frank tenderly ran a finger over his soft skin and the little boy reacted to the touch, his limbs stretching a little before he settled back down, his breathing even, his eyes closing.

“I still don’t know how we made something so special.” Fliss whispered, her arms curling round Frank’s waist from behind.

“He’s part you.” Frank replied softly, and Fliss gave a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, like I said, his daddy’s pretty awesome too.” Frank turned round to face her and dropped a gentle kiss to her mouth, his nose sliding against hers before he gave a little yawn. “Sorry…” he said as Fliss chuckled.

“Come on Sailor, let’s try and get some sleep before he wakes us up.”

Frank moved and slid into the covers, settling down as Fliss led besides him. He turned onto his side to look at her and she brushed her hand through his untidy, fluffy hair and then opened her arms. With the air of a small child he sank into them, his head resting against her chest, arms moving so that they wrapped around her, like a koala bear. Her hand once more resumed its gentle stroking on his neck and it wasn’t long before Fliss felt his tense shoulders relax, his breathing grew even and she glanced down to see those long eyelashes resting against his freckled cheeks as he slept. She pressed a kiss to his head and closed her eyes and finally let her own emotion crash over her as she let out a few silent tears of her own.

***** “I just don’t get it Bonnie.” Fliss sighed gently, as Bonnie took the coffee she was offering, the two women heading over to the breakfast bar. “Why now? Why after so fucking long is he suddenly interested?”

“I wish I could answer that for you.” Bonnie was sympathetic, as Fliss’ eyes flicked over to Mary who was led on the play-mat by the TV with Alex. He was led on his back and Mary was playing peek-a-boo with him, hiding her face behind his large stuffed Elephant pillow which had been a present from Steve and Sian when they’d taken the kids to the zoo. Alex showing his appreciation by smiling at her and giggling, his arms and leg waving as he shrieked with happiness.

“I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it.” Fliss bit her lip and Bonnie looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Fliss shifted a little, dropping her voice even more. “When Polland turned up in the Custody case, Frank was always adamant that Evelyn had paid him, even though he denied it and she denied it and we had no evidence. Frank’s still to this day 100% convinced that’s why he came forward. He wasn’t interested in Mary…”

“Has he asked Evelyn since?”

“No.” Fliss shook her head. “They’re in a good place. It’s not perfect but its ok, and they have this unspoken agreement now that they don’t talk about it. They moved on so…”

“Maybe you should ask her.” Bonnie said.

Fliss shrugged “I don’t know if I want to drag it all back up.”

“Yeah, but if you think someone is putting him up to this…”

“I don’t, well, I do, maybe…” Fliss hesitated as she tried to put what she was thinking into words “I don’t know, what I think to be honest, other than there must be something else in it for Pollland. Sorry, I’m not making much sense.” “No, I get it.” Bonnie assured him. The two women sat in silence before Bonnie clicked her fingers as she looked at Fliss “Facebook. Have you checked him out?”

“Already tried, he’s blocked me and Frank…same on Instagram. Not that I’m sure it would help but…”

“Well he won’t have blocked me…” Bonnie shrugged “Might be a dead end but you never know. Worth a good old social media stalk, don’t you think?”

Fliss looked at Mary, then to Bonnie again before she nodded “Ok…do it.”

Bonnie pulled her phone out and scrolled down, tapping open the App. “What’s his name?”

“Polland.” Fliss said gently “Brad…”

Bonnie tapped at the screen and then turned it to Fliss, “That him?”

Fliss nodded. “Yeah…”

“Damned it his profile is locked down…” Bonnie said, her eyes roving over the screen. “Let me try his insta…” She continued to tap at her phone and grinned “Well he hasn’t locked this down…”she started to scroll down the screen and then stopped, frowning a little “Hang on…why do I recognise this woman?”

“Let me see?”

She pushed the phone over the counter and Fliss stared at it for a moment. It was a picture of Polland in a suit, with a team of people she assumed must be work colleagues. “Which one?”

“The one 2 down from him to his right.”

Fliss looked closer and then she felt her heart skip a beat. “I don’t fucking believe it…”

“What?”

“That’s Anna.” She said gently “Richard’s wife.” “Richard as in…” Bonnie trailed off as Fliss swallowed and looked at her.

“My ex brother in law. We saw them in Miami…” The realisation crashed over Fliss in a huge wave as she stared at the photo, the ghosts once again of her past back to haunt her only this time in a way she could never have imagined. This was the link, the Stazikers. She’d bet her life on it.

“Why now?” Bonnie asked gently “I mean this photo is from a few years back, so…” “I wasn’t with Frank when the case went down, not fully anyway.” Fliss said, biting her lip “None of them would have made the connection back then, they didn’t even know where I was. This will be their way of punishing me. John died whilst in prison for an attack on me, Richard did a few months inside too for his part. They’ve always blamed me, even when John pleaded guilty.” She took a deep breath and looked at Bonnie “Ok, can you go through and screen shot ANYTHING you see that links him to the Stazikers, then send it to me.” “What you gonna do?” Bonnie asked “Tell Frank?”

“Not yet.” Fliss said, “I need to speak to Evelyn first.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m gonna ask her once and for all if she paid Polland.” Fliss looked at Bonnie, her eyes blazing “Because if she did, it makes it all the more likely he’s taking a back hander again.” *****

“Fliss?” Evelyn’s voice hit Fliss’ ears as she sat in the study, sitting at the desk.

“HI Evelyn.” Fliss said, taking a deep breath “Have you got a minute?”

“Yes, of course…what’s the matter?”

“I need to ask you something. And I want an honest answer. Bradley Polland…” “What about him?” Evelyn’s voice took a gruff turn.

“Did you pay him?”

“What?”

“When he appeared at Mary’s case. Did you pay him?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because yesterday we had notification he’s actively contesting the Adoption application.” Fliss said, keeping her voice calm “And I’m trying to understand why. I have a theory but…”

“It’s nothing to do with me if that’s what you think…” “No, I don’t.” Fliss appeased as Evelyn’s voice was harsh. “I’m just trying to gather the facts before I go back to Greg. But I need to know honestly Evelyn, did you pay him.”

She sighed “Not exactly, no.” “Well what exactly did you do?”

“Polland works for an accountancy company.” Evelyn hesitated slightly before she continued “He’s in charge of their New Business department. I had a word with my contacts at the University and it ended up in a very lucrative deal for his firm, meaning he got a promotion. I’m not proud of it…but…”

Fliss took a deep breath. There was some satisfaction that her suspicion had been correct but also an underlying sense of frustration at how Evelyn could have ever been so damned sneaky. But, she had to remind herself that this was all in the past now. They had all moved on, and made some pretty monumental steps in that department. But this was now threatening to blow all of this out of the water.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” She replied after a second or two.

“Fliss, you have to understand, I was desperate.” Evelyn said gently. “I’d do anything to take it all back.”

“Look, I’m not interested in dragging this up for an argument.” Fliss shook her head as she spoke “As we all keep saying, what’s done is done. I just needed to know if I was right.” “You think someone is paying him to do this?”

“Yes.” Fliss said bluntly “And I have a good idea who.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Not yet.” Fliss licked her lips. “I need to talk to Frank first.”

“Ok, well if there’s anything I can do please let me know.”

“Of course, I’ll let you know.

After bidding her mother-in-law goodbye, Fliss hung up and dropped the phone onto the desk before she let out a little groan and stood up, heading back into the living room. Mary looked up at her where she was sat on the sofa, and Fliss smiled as she saw Alex was curled up on-top of his comforter on the play-mat, cuddling to his beloved elephant.

“He fell asleep” Mary said, “I was watching him but you said not to try and lift him without you here so…” “Mary, he’s fine babe.” Fliss smiled, “Honestly, you did good. Top babysitter.” She leaned over and gave the girl a hi-five before she took a quick photo and sent it to Frank. Placing her phone on the coffee table she dropped down besides Mary. “What you looking at?” Fliss nodded at the laptop.

“I’m chatting to Rosie.” Mary said, turning the Macbook so Fliss could she see had the instant messenger service from the school network open “We were talking about Christmas and stuff. She asked if I can go and sleep over tomorrow night seeing as it’s the holidays.”

“You wanna?”

“Yeah.” “Then fine by me.” Fliss said, giving a little yawn “I can’t see Frank having a problem with it. I’m teaching in the afternoon so I can drop you either before or after.”

“Ok, I’ll tell her you said yes.” Mary smiled, “See what time she says I can go over. I can ride Monty in the morning again like I did today.”

“Sounds like plan, kiddo.” Fliss nodded “We can do the trail if you want when I’ve done the classes for the morning.”

“Awesome!” Mary grinned.

“Oh, and I know I said I was gonna make chicken parm for dinner but I seriously cannot be bothered. I’m thinking I might throw some frozen pizzas in and do some dirty fries instead.”

Mary grinned “I love dirty fries.” “So does Frank.” Fliss smiled

“He needs cheering up.” Mary nodded “He looked sad this morning.”

“He just has some stuff going on at work.” Fliss said, batting the question away “He’ll be fine.”

At that point her phone went off, it was a message back from the man in question responding to her photo of Alex.

Lucky little bastard! I’d kill for a nap right now, I’m exhausted. Finishing early so should be home in an hour or so. Love you all xxx

“See.” She showed it to Mary “Just tired.”

“Can we bake some brownies?” Mary asked, her face hopeful “They always cheer him up.”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled, standing up, completely not bothering to point out to Mary that was more hassle than the chicken parm, it was such a thoughtful thing to want to do that Fliss instantly felt her heart melt as she agreed. “Go get the bowls and stuff ready, I’ll put Bean in the crib.” To be fair it only took half an hour to mix the batter and get it in the oven. They then turned their attention to the fries and pizzas, shoving those in too before they returned back to the sofa, Fliss finding “Miracle on 34th Street” on one of the channels so they settled down to watch, the Christmas tree lights twinkling in the corner of the room. And that was how Frank found them when he came in from work about 20 minutes or so later. Both of them sat on the sofa, Mary snuggled into Fliss as they were giggling at the TV in the now dim-light of the room.

“Hey.” He smiled and Fliss looked up at him, taking the kiss he offered before he ruffled Mary’s head “Again?” he nodded to the TV and Mary glared at him.

“It happens to be one of my favourites.” “Don’t I know it.” He rolled his eyes. He then paused, the smell of baking hitting his nostrils, and looked around, before he glanced back at them, grinning “You made brownies?”

“Not just any brownies…” Mary grinned “Salted caramel ones.” Frank groaned “I love you both.”

Mary sniggered “Fliss said you would say that.”

Frank smiled “Imma take a shower ok? Be down in a second.”

“Actually, I need to talk to you.” Fliss said, looking at him significantly.

“Ok.” He frowned.

“You ok here Mary?” Fliss looked at her. “Keep an eye on Alex for me again?”

“What are you going to talk about?”

“Nonya.” Frank looked at her.

“Nonya?” Mary frowned.

“Yeah, Nonya-business.” He said, straightening up as she gave a groan.

“That’s so lame.” Mary sighed, rolling her eyes. Fliss and Frank headed upstairs into their bedroom, where Fliss took a deep breath. She didn’t even bother telling Frank to stay calm, because she knew it was futile. And, true to her prediction, when she explained what she’d found out he reacted exactly how she had predicted. Angry, upset, frustrated. He grit his teeth, swore and then started stomping around the room.

“I know, I know…” she soothed as he slammed a drawer shut, tossing a pair of joggers onto the bed. “But, this is good Frank.” “Good, how is any of this good Lissy?” he seethed “I…” “Because it gives us an angle.” She said gently “If we tell Greg about this…whilst we may not have any solid proof it provides him with a line of attack. Raises questions. And we have Evelyn too, I’m pretty sure she’ll go on record about what went down last time. It’s a total smear on his character.”

Frank took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. “You know what, I can’t…I can’t process this now, I need to think.”

“Ok.” Fliss said, looking down at the carpet, swallowing a little as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” “Sorry?” Frank frowned “What are you sorry for?”

“Because this is my fault isn’t it?” she stated, more than asked, and Frank was horrified to see the tears in her eyes. “It’s all down to John, again.” “Stop.” Frank said firmly, shaking his head as he strode round the side of the bed to where she was stood. “Lissy, this isn’t your fault baby. Not at all. I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“Maybe, but if I wasn’t involved, this wouldn’t be happening and…” she took a deep breath and Frank shook his head once more, wiping her tears away. “He’s fucking dead Frank and still…” “Look.” Frank sighed, “You don’t control what that shit head family do now any more than you did back then, ok? I’m sorry for snapping I just…” “I know.” She nodded, her hands wrapping around his wrists as his calloused fingers caressed her cheek.

“But please don’t for one second think I blame you for any of this. This is down to him, and if the Stazikers are the only reason he’s doing this then he’s an even bigger shit head than we thought.”

“You know, Steeb says he can make him vanish.” Fliss shrugged “Concrete shoes, bottom of the ocean.”

Frank chuckled and his hands dropped to her hips “Don’t tempt me.”��

“So what do you want to do about it?” Fliss asked. Frank bit his lip for a moment as he considered his play and then he looked back at her, determination on his face.

“Once I’ve showered I’ll call Evelyn and check she’s ok, as no doubt she’s pacing the floor at home now, panicking.”

“You not mad at her?”

“Mad? I’m fucking raging but what’s the point of going over it all?” he sighed, “I always knew deep down she’d done something and we worked so hard to put it behind us…”

“And the rest of it?”

“Well after I speak to Mother, I’ll get onto Greg, tell him what we know.” He spoke determinedly “If the fucking cunts want a dirty fight, then they can have one.”

**** Chapter 16 Part 2

#frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Riding On

Ch 16- A Whole Fucking Hand Of Aces

Part 1

Warnings: Some VERY Bad Language words (Frank has a potty mouth…) Descriptions of panic attack-please avoid if this triggers.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

Chapter Song: I’m Gonna Love You Through It by Martina McBride (Ok, so this song makes me damned cry due to the sentiment behind it, and fits Frank and Fliss here so much…)

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

December 2019

“Don’t get too despondent yet.” Greg sighed, “I know it’s shitty but like I said on the phone Frank, we have a damned good chance on winning this in court.”

“So, what happens now?” she asked, trying to keep calm. One of them had to have a level head after all.

“Exactly.” Greg smiled “You’re in a very good position. This…it’s just a little bump in the road.”

“Then why does it feel like a huge fucking road block?” Frank looked at Greg and his best friend sighed.

His accent grew thicker, the way it always did when he was emotional and Fliss squeezed his hand once more and turned to face him.

It was only when Alex made the familiar noises of hunger that the 3 of them called time on their discussion and Fliss stood up and headed to the bassinet to the side of the sofa.

“Fuck you.” Frank snorted, and Fliss pouted dramatically.

"I happen to think is daddy is very handsome." She looked at Frank whose lips curled into a smile at one side for what felt like the first time that day before he turned to Greg.

"I'll see you out."

Greg looked at him and then nodded, and with a final goodbye to Fliss, he left the family room with Frank behind him

“Tell me honestly Greg, and no bullshit…” Frank looked ad his friend as they strode towards Greg’s silver benz which was parked behind Fliss’ Cherokee “Am I gonna lose her?”

“Have you just listened to a damned word I said Frank?” Greg looked at him. “Read my lips. Not a chance. Honestly Frank, you have the upper hand here. This is nothing like last time.”

Frank nodded and gave his friend a tight smile.

“Thanks for coming over.” he nodded and Greg smiled.

“Any time, I got your back. You know that.” he promised as he climbed into his car. Frank watched him leave, tossing a hand at the tailgate to the car before he turned and headed back inside, giving a whistle for Thor to follow him, the dog having wandered outside at the same time he had. But despite his friend’s assurances, he just couldn’t shake the worry from the back of his mind that this entire thing was going to rip their family apart.

“Sure.” She nodded as Frank sat down. She handed Alex over and then kissed Frank’s cheek. “Try not to worry sweetheart, I know it’s a shitty set back but it’ll work out.”

“You’re optimistic.” Frank looked down at Alex as he took his milk before he glanced up at Fliss “I wish I was.”

“You heard Greg.” She gently lay her hand on his neck, her fingers softly stroking at his skin of the nape “This isn’t like last time.”

“I know.” He nodded, before he fixed a smile on his face “Why don’t you go for that bath you were talking about before?”

“You gonna be ok?”

He nodded “Yeah, I’ll be up once he’s finished.”

“Ok.” Fliss nodded, kissing him again before she stood up and left Frank alone with his son.

He the cool liquid in one but that did nothing to help the hot and clammy feeling that was now washing over him, causing a light beading of sweat to dust his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and as he did so his belly dropped out from him and a sick feeling spread across his body, almost like he was going to puke. He gripped the edge of the counter, hovering over the sink, eyes closed as the room began to spin and his chest suddenly began to hurt. He found himself unable to catch his breath as his throat tightened and he scrunched his eyes shut as they were burning from the unshed, salty tears. Then, he could hold the feeling of desperation and panic no more and he turned, sliding to the floor in a dishevelled heap, his back banging painfully against the lower kitchen cabinets as he struggled to ground himself. When his chest finally released enough for him to take a huge, shaky, painful breath it was all too much and his anxiety poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears, the deep emotions stirring with no other outlet but his silent crying.