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sewellsheart · 27 days ago

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Merciless Haze - Part 4/4

Summary: He turned back to face her, and as soon as Sophie saw what he was holding she was unable to shift her gaze. She removed herself from her sheets to sit on top of the quilt, eyes not once wavering from the blood bag in Nate’s hands. Her top lip twitched at the feeling of her fangs descending.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, minor blood play that might actually count as food play depending on how you look at it

Word Count: 7.3k (🫣)

Pairing: Nate Sewell x f! Detective (Sophie MacNamara)

Note: Y’all this is my first time writing smut, and on top of that it’s M/F smut. I’m a lesbian with no experience with cis men. So all I can say is: I definitely tried! (lowkey a little proud of it)

Tags: @agentnatesewell @nat-seal-well @itsmistyeyedbi

Read on AO3

The glow of the presentation screen was the only light in the Facility conference room. Sophie was seated towards the front of the ovular meeting table, listening intently to the lecture Elidor had prepared for her. She hadn’t been particularly keen to provide even more of her blood to the Agency, especially considering how poorly that had gone before. Elidor, however, was someone she trusted as an individual. He was methodical, concise, and trustworthy. She had approached him, asking if he would be interested in researching something for her and, more importantly, if he would be willing to keep it off the books.

He had been hesitant, Sophie had certainly understood why — she wasn’t one for breaking the rules herself — but upon hearing just what she wanted looked into, he had agreed. With the promise of disposing of it as soon as he concluded his research, Elidor had drawn five sizable vials of Sophie’s blood, used his high security to access samples of concentrated vampire venom, and set to work.

“I could survive it, then?”

“You could,” The fae replied. “But the circumstance would have to be just right, as well as the dosage.”

Sophie leaned back in her chair, “How would we go about measuring that?”

Elidor let out a lighthearted chuff, “There’s no ‘we’ here, Agent. After we walk out of this room, it’s all you.” His gold eyes met hers. “All I can determine here is that you’ll be walking a very fine line between death and immortality.”

Sophie sighed then pursed her lips. “Well, tell me what you found.”

Elidor tapped on his computer, displaying three different images of her, now very recognizable, blood cells. Using a pointer, he brought her attention to the left-most image.

“This is your blood straight out of the vial, nothing has been done to it. As I’m sure you can see, there’s already abnormalities.” Sophie nods. Elidor shifts his pointer to the second image. “This is your blood’s reaction to a dose of Turned Vampire venom.”

Sophie squinted at the screen, “I don’t see a reaction.”

“That would be because your macrophages ate all the infected cells before it could do anything.” Sophie opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by Elidor’s hand raising in a halt. “Let me continue, it makes more sense as we go,” His pointer shifted to the third image. “This is the reaction to Natural Vampire venom.”

Once again, Sophie’s well-trained eye was unable to stop a difference. “Am I immune to it, then?” She masked the disappointment in her voice, but it didn’t stop her heart from clenching in her chest.

“Not quite,” Elidor tapped his computer again, displaying a new slide with two more images. He once again indicated his pointer at the left image. “This is your blood when introduced to a double dose of Turned Vampire venom. Think of it as if you had been bitten by two Turned Vampires at the same time. Again, the same reaction, or rather a lack of one.”

He brought her attention to the second image in the lineup. This one, Sophie could see, was much different.

“This sample is where things change. I mixed one dose of Turned Vampire venom with one dose of Natural Vampire venom.” Elidor once again looked her in the eyes, a proud smirk on his face. “It worked.”

“It worked once.” Sophie replied blandly.

Elidor rolled his eyes. “Ever the pessimist, you. Have a little faith in me,” He clicked his computer once more, ten more images appeared. “I did eleven trials, there’s a ninety-point-nine percent success rate.”

“Elidor, I appreciate that you did more tests, but eleven is hardly a stable sample size, and there’s still a possibility that with this combination I wouldn’t turn.”

The fae stared at her, unimpressed. “Unless you plan on providing me with four more liters of your blood, this is the largest sample size I can provide,” he hesitates for a moment. “As for turning, I should rephrase. This venom mixture has a one-hundred percent success rate in turning you,” his pointer hit the eighth sample image, “this, though, is the problem.”

Sophie studied the image, it only took a glance to understand what had happened, but she wanted to know why it had. The image displayed the same altered red blood cells as the others, but this sample’s cells looked wilted and tired. The cells were dead.

“How long did it take?”

“For them to die? Four hours, but the signs were there by the two hour mark.”

Sophie nodded slowly, “Do you have a theory as to why?”

Elidor’s lips tightened, “My best guess is that the cells infected by the venom multiplied too quickly. In a turning, the cells infected by venom multiply exponentially. It essentially brute forces its way through the body,” He sat down in the chair across from Sophie, seeming a little lost in thought.

“You know well enough by now, turning is a painful process. I believe you’ve forgotten how dangerous it is though, Sophie. Plenty have died before reaching the ending stage,” Sophie looked back to the slide, willing it to reveal something more to her. There was nothing left to see though, just dead red blood cells, suffocated by the force of the venom that had contaminated it.

“I assume you didn’t bother with a double dose of Natural venom, then?” She prodded.

“I almost didn’t, but you’re as thorough as I am. I did one test,” the next slide appears on the screen, displaying a single image. The result didn’t shock her.

“How long did this one take?”

“It took significantly longer to actually kill all of the cells, the dying phase started earlier but was severely prolonged,” he grimaced, “I can only make the assumption that it would be a torturous death.”

“Turned Vampire venom effectively dilutes the Natural Venom, then?”

“In essence, yes. There’s a bit of a detachment between the two,” Elidor looked up at the ceiling in thought, “I’d have to get into the genetics of it, but to put it plainly, there’s just certain aspects of being a natural vampire that can’t be replicated in a human vessel. Turning changes a lot about a person, but it can’t change too much without killing the afflicted individual.”

“I suppose there’s not much of a point in having the ability to turn people into vampires if it will only ever kill them,” Sophie rubbed her fingers against her temple and squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a long silence in the room, broken only by Elidor’s voice, the gentlest Sophie had ever heard it, “Are you sure you want to do this, Sophie?”

Sophie opened her eyes and sat up, looking him dead in the eye as she gave a stern nod.

Elidor replied with a few small, slow nods. “Well, you know what you need, now. What’s your plan?”

Sophie pursed her lips, “I suppose I’ll arrange something with Farah, see if she’s open to being involved. I doubt that Nate would have any objections to being-”

“I would strongly advise that you do not utilize Agent Sewell’s venom.”

That took Sophie aback some, “And why is that?”

“I can’t disclose any more than that, I’m afraid. Confidentiality, and all. You’ll have to discuss it with him,” he stood up, “Is there anything else I can help you with, Agent?”

Sophie, still mulling over Elidor’s comment, shook her head.

Elidor gave her one final nod before he disconnected his computer and plunged the room into darkness.

—————

“Sophie.”

Nate felt breathless. There she was, standing on her own two feet, alive despite everything she’d been through. Next to him was Adam and Elidor, a case of blood bags at their feet, but as soon as he looked into her deep green eyes, it felt like they were the only two in the room.

She looked unlike she ever had before, her face appeared gaunt, and her hair was unkempt and tangled. She had, what Nate could only assume, was her own blood running down her chin. Her fangs had descended, and the expression she donned was something very familiar to him. Hunger.

She remained as beautiful as ever.

She also had to return to her room before something of severe consequence occurred.

Nate approached her swiftly before she could take advantage of their surprise, grabbing her by the waist.

“Nate—”

“I’ll help her, Adam, don’t work yourself into a fuss. Let the others know to stay away,” He gave a pointed look at Elidor. “Especially you.”

Elidor nodded. “I’ll be back to check on her when she’s less… instinctual.”

“We would recommend it,” Adam replied.

As Elidor strode away, Nate felt Sophie’s abdomen tensing, like she was checking just how strong his grip on her was. Before, Nate wouldn’t have been the slightest bit concerned about his ability to hold her back. Now, he had no idea what she was capable of.

Though perhaps he didn’t have much to be concerned about, as Sophie seemed to be content to remain near to him. Nate had never seen a newborn vampire so calm before, he was almost concerned that there was something wrong.

Adam looked back to him, “Are you sure about this?”

“Completely.”

“We do not know the extent of her strength now.”

“There’s nothing she could do to me that I couldn’t heal from.”

He nodded, eyeing Sophie cautiously. Clearly, Nate hadn’t been the only one to notice her odd behavior. Adam picked up the blood case from the floor, pressing the handle into Nate’s free hand. Sophie didn’t even spare Adam a glance as he entered her space.

“Take the case, make sure she gets enough, but not too much. You know the protocol. I’ll inform the others,” He hesitated a moment before following the same path Elidor had just taken.

As soon as Adam’s back was turned, Nate pulled Sophie back into her bedroom, closing the heavy wooden door and locking it. The second he did so, Sophie fell into him, letting out a distressed hum. The sound made Nate’s chest ache. He guided her back to her bed, placing the case at the foot of it.

“Ya rouhi, mo chuisle,” He climbed onto her bed, still holding onto her, and settled them in the center. He made a mental note to change her bedsheets for her.

Sophie seemed intent on keeping her face buried in his neck, apparently fixated for one reason or another. He allowed her to relax into him as she continued to release gentle hums, which grew softer as he began to pet down her hair. Then he felt the warmth of her breath and the blunt press of the front of her fangs.

Ah.

Well, that wasn’t how he’d intended for this to go, but it certainly explained why her focus had only been centered on him. Vampires didn’t tend to take note of each other's scents while their blood was still in their body. Even outside of it, the potency was more noticeable than any possibly desirable scent. Nate couldn’t help but feel a little flattered.

Adam may have emphasized protocol, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t perturb him. Instinct wasn’t always a bad thing, and if her instincts were telling her to bite, he wouldn’t stop her.

“It’s alright, my love. You can.” He felt her open her mouth, one of those fresh fangs testing against the skin of his neck. Nate mentally braced himself for what would undoubtedly be an unpleasant feeling. Sophie was wholly instinct right now, she wouldn’t be able to release the pheromones to—

Oh. How wrong he was.

Nate wasn’t able to contain the pleased groan that left him as she sunk her teeth in. With each pull she made, he fell further into the feeling. A first feeding was usually a messy affair; ripped open blood bags, numerous stains, animalistic behavior— but here was Sophie, clasped onto his neck, one hand firmly gripping onto his back, the other pressed on his hip. Only Sophie, floating in a cloud of delirium, would be in so much control she would put effort into being considerate.

She was perfect, absolutely perfect for him. He would never meet someone like her again, and his all-consuming fear of losing her was diminishing. Just as he was about to gently coax her off, she retracted on her own.

Sophie raised her head from his neck to look at him. Some color had returned to her cheeks, her bright red hair adding to the glow. His blood was smeared over her teeth and lips, her fangs still out and Nate just now noticed that they were larger than average. He couldn’t have stopped the burn of arousal that ran through him if he tried, nor the descent of his own fangs. Nate took a rare, necessary breath to center himself. That reaction is something that could be explored later, preferably when he wasn’t responsible for the first feeding of the love of his life.

A first feeding that would have to wait, apparently, as Sophie was beginning to look less coherent by the second. He had forgotten just how much rest was necessary for a newborn vampire. He looked behind him and was reminded of the state of her bedsheets, mottled with blood and sweat stains.

Nate frowned, that wouldn’t do. Sophie had done nothing but suffer in the past ten days, the least he could do is provide her some basic comfort. He turned back to face her, the fatigue was dragging her body down, but she remained awake.

“Let’s get you over to the couch, mo ghrá,” Nate stood, then picked Sophie up from her place on the bed. He set her down on the couch tucked into the corner next to her bookshelf, ensuring she was comfortable before he left through her bathroom door.

He turned the faucet of the bath on, letting it run while he returned to Sophie’s bedroom to change her sheets. He made quick work of it, quickly stripping the bed of its beige sheets and well-loved quilt with dark green silk sheets and a quilt of his own, before returning to Sophie’s side.

Her eyes were closed, her chest completely still. Nate pursed his lips before brushing a few stray hairs from her face. Her chest jumped and she blinked her eyes open, apparently he caught her on the edge of sleep.

“I have a bath ready for you, love.”

Sophie once again hummed in answer.

Nate helped her move into a sitting position, pulling the oversized Agency-provided white gown she wore over her head before once again picking her up and taking her to the bathroom.

He set her in the pleasantly warm, still shallow water, placing a folded towel under her head for support before grabbing a washcloth. Lathering soap onto the cloth, he set to work gently cleaning Sophie’s tattooed skin. He couldn’t help but admire the work as he went, even as familiar as he was with it. He rinsed over the angel on her thigh, the bat on her sternum, the skeletal lovers on her forearm.

That piece was the newest addition, only a few months old, but it was quick to become his favorite. She never said it outright, but he knew she had used a candid photo Farah had taken of them on the balcony of her apartment as a reference. The position was exactly the same, Nate had been pressed behind her back, his head settled on her shoulder, his hands over her abdomen, her arms crossed over her chest.

He smiled at the memory as he finished cleaning her, rinsing the remaining soap away before pulling the drain plug. As the bath emptied, Nate gathered Sophie’s long hair and quickly braided it. It was loose and sloppy, but out of her face.

Sophie’s eyes had once again closed at some point, but the habitual rise and fall of her chest told Nate that she was still awake. With the bath empty, Nate gently patted her down with a dry towel before doing his best to wrap her in it, picking her up one final time to return her to her bed.

After placing her down onto the clean silk, he went over to her dresser, pulling out one of her oversized t-shirts and a pair of boyshorts. He quickly dressed her, surprised by the fact that she was still somewhat conscious and helping him do so. As soon as she was settled, Nate walked around the room, shutting off the lights, before undressing himself down to his boxers and joining her.

In the darkness, Nate watched as Sophie settled into a deep sleep. For the first time since her turning began, Nate felt tired, too.

—————

“No romantic life-altering decisions by the fireplace for you, then,” Farah sighed dejectedly. “Here I was, getting everything in order to create a trail of rose petals leading to Nate’s room and your immortal future.”

Sophie would’ve rolled her eyes if she had the energy for anything that wasn’t trying to figure all this out. She was lying on the long couch in the sitting area, her fingers ceaselessly tapping on the wooden frame.

“What time were they meant to be back?”

Farah looked over at the, rather regal looking, grandfather clock in the corner. “Twenty minutes ago,” She chirped.

Sophie let out a deep sigh, growing more impatient with every passing minute.

Farah gave her a quizzical look, “You don’t need to be worried about them, they’re just on patrol. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this anxious before.”

“It’s not anxiety.”

“You sure? ‘Cause it sure feels like it. It’s practically radiating into me.”

Sophie gave Farah a weary frown.

“Wow, you really are in a mood,” She chuckled, then looked towards the heavy wooden door of the living area. “They’re back now, I can hear them.”

Sophie pushed herself off of the couch and onto her feet, rushing out of the room and toward the warehouse entrance. Nate was mid-discussion with Adam and Morgan when Sophie approached them briskly, her full attention on Nate.

“Shit, what the hell did you do?” Morgan gave a deep chuckle, ignoring the disapproving look Adam gave her.

Before Nate could reply to the quip, Sophie grabbed his arm with urgency, but kept her voice soft. “I need to talk to you.”

Nate nodded at her, looking a little surprised by the gentleness of her tone, considering her approach. “Of course, lead the way.”

Sophie gave a quick nod of greeting to Adam and Morgan before leading Nate to his room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Sophie turned towards Nate, and suddenly felt herself beginning to panic.

Farah had been right about the anxiety, then.

Nate’s brow creased in concern, his hands came up to rest on her shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong?” His left hand came to caress her neck, his thumb gently brushing her jaw. “Did something happen?”

His touch brought Sophie back to herself, easing her pulse. The anxiety still buzzed, but the panic subsided. This was Nate. She could tell him anything.

“I had some blood tests done.”

Nate’s eyes widened at that. “What kind of tests?”

“I wanted to see how my blood would react to vampire venom. I had them run trials.”

“The Agency allowed a turning test? I’ve never heard of them giving that kind of approval,” he hesitated. “Especially not for someone they seem very keen on remaining human.”

“I didn’t give it to the Agency. I asked someone to do it for me, no documentation.”

“You what?” There was no anger in his voice, just surprise. He let out a gentle laugh, “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you disregard the rules.”

Sophie fixed him with a determined look. “I’m allowed to make decisions in my own life, and I’m allowed to be educated in those decisions,” She replied stubbornly.

“Yes, you are, absolutely, you are. What did you find out?”

Sophie heaved a sigh, “It’s going to be complex,” She thought about her next words carefully, Nate’s head titled in curiosity. “I was… advised that I should not use your venom.”

Nate leaned back a bit, his hands falling to Sophie’s arms. “That doesn’t surprise me, unfortunately.”

“Why?”

Nate worked his jaw in thought, “It would likely be too… unpredictable, is the word, I suppose. There’s many aspects of my abilities that I’ve had to learn to manage and control. My venom is not one I’ve ever had a need to keep in check. It’s very rare that the agency would allow a vampire under its employ to turn a human.”

“We may have a problem, then. I’ll need two of you, and one of them has to be Farah.”

Nate gazes at her warily, “I’m afraid I’ll need you to walk me through this.”

She does.

—————

When Sophie woke up, she found herself warm, clean, and comfortable for the first time in days. She opened her eyes, her head was resting on Nate’s bare chest, their legs intertwined.

Sophie nuzzled into Nate’s chest, taking a deep breath to take in his scent and—

Had Nate always smelled this good? She was accustomed to his spiced, earthy cologne but this was something entirely different. Lifting her head, Sophie looked up to find Nate’s deep brown eyes already focused on her.

“Good evening, my love,” He said, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

“Evening?” She looked at her walk clock, 21:38. She couldn’t even remember the last time she was awake. Sophie looked back at Nate, who almost appeared startled with a wide-eyed expression. “Is… something wrong?” Her voice had certainly had better days.

Nate just gave a single stunned laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that you’d be able to respond, let alone be so coherent.”

Sophie cleared her throat, trying to rid it of the roughness as she turned to lie on her back. That was when the room started spinning. Sophie closed her eyes, pressing her hands over her eyes.

She felt Nate turn onto his side to place his hand on her shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze. “Are you alright?”

Sophie gave a placating hum. “Dizzy,” she said, moving her hands to lay on her stomach.

Nate clicked his tongue, as if he were chastising himself. “I waited too long, but I wanted you to get some real rest,” He brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, “You must be hungry, let’s get you something filling.”

As he moved off of the bed, Sophie’s eyes followed him curiously. He walked over to a case sitting at the end of her bed, unzipping it. He turned back to face her, and as soon as Sophie saw what he was holding she was unable to shift her gaze. She removed herself from her sheets to sit on top of her quilt, eyes not once wavering from the blood bag in Nate’s hands. Her top lip twitched at the feeling of her fangs descending.

That sensation would take a while to get used to.

He climbed back onto the bed, and Sophie winced a bit at the realization that this was a less than preferable place to be doing this. “Not the breakfast in bed you’re accustomed to, is it?” Nate chuckled.

He presented the bag to Sophie, “No, not quite.” She replied as she raised it up to her mouth, giving a shy glance to Nate, before opening her mouth and letting her teeth sink into the bag.

Her brow furrowed for a moment, unsure what to expect, before it finally hit her tongue and she was able to relax into the relief. Even she was surprised by how quickly she took to it, like it has always been in her nature to drink human blood from a small silicone sack.

The effect was immediate, she could feel herself satiating a hunger that had been silently taunting her for days. Still, she maintained her resolve, not allowing herself to fall into an animalistic haze, though she could feel the urge creeping up her spine.

She hadn’t even realized that her eyes had closed in her focus. She reopened them to see Nate, a strained look on his face, watching her throat move as she drank. If her observation of his reaction gave her an idea, she couldn’t be blamed.

She was, previously, only human.

—————

Nate was once again baffled by Sophie’s self-control. He could count on one hand the number of first feedings he’d been witness to, and not one of them had been this calm. Even after coming to know her so intimately, she still managed to surprise him.

Nate found himself having to continually reinforce his own self-control as his eyes clung to the bobbing of her throat. His gaze lifted to find her looking at him with as much intensity as he felt, but there was something playful there too.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Nate said with an amused smirk.

Sophie’s jaw loosened, allowing some of the contents of the bag to rush down her throat and slip out of her mouth. Nate’s hand rushed forward, catching the droplets before they could stain the quilt beneath them. His hand remained there as Sophie drank down the remainder of the bag. As Nate shifted to get her another, Sophie grabbed his hand and — before he could react — licked up his palm, gathering the small pool of blood into her mouth. She swallowed it down, her eyes unwavering in their attention on him.

“Nate,” Her voice still raspy from a lack of use. He couldn’t help but lean in and kiss her.

Sophie immediately began to run her fingers through his hair, it was down, just as she liked it to be. He hadn’t put it up once in these last ten days.

He moved to pull Sophie into his lap, desperate to be as close to her as possible. The taste of blood in her mouth alongside her familiar flavor had Nate’s head spinning and his own fangs dropping. He was struck with the realization that this was the first time he’d felt her mouth against his since that morning at the Facility. He hadn’t known then that that could have been the last time he kissed her.

Nate pulled back, kissing down her neck, tasting the blood that had dripped down her warm skin, “I could have lost you,” His voice broke, and he breathed in her scent to center himself, “I almost lost you.”

Sophie gently tugged his hair back, forcing him to look at her. As if he would be able to focus on anything that wasn’t her.

She kissed his forehead. “You didn’t.”

He felt his eyes sting as he pulled her back in, even closer, until they were chest to chest, their mouths working in sync. Sophie let out a soft, low moan, and that was the end of Nate’s patience for the day. He broke their kiss and shifted his hips, maneuvering Sophie onto her back so he was on top of her, his forearms framing her head, his body between her legs.

He looked down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes bright and aware. She no longer looked starved, the sharp lines of her pretty face not harsh, just defined. Just Sophie. Nate opened his mouth but found himself lost for words.

She smiled at his awe of her, and Nate noticed that her once slightly crowded front teeth and incisors were now perfectly straight. The scar that once ran through her right eyebrow from an “incident” when she was a child was now gone, the only indication of its existence being the beginnings of new hair growth. He couldn’t stop himself from brushing his hands over the bushels of flowers she had tattooed over her collarbones— she had always complained that they had healed poorly, leaving them raised. As his thumb traced the weaving flora, he felt nothing but the softness of her skin.

“What is it?”

Her question pulled him out of his study of her. “Your scars are gone,” he answered, a gentle smile gracing his lips as a bittersweet feeling ran through him.

“Ah, I had forgotten about that part,” she reached her hand up to caress his cheek, then guided him back down to her.

The brief break in their heated moment came to a quick end as their lips met again. Nate had to have her, he had to hold her and know she was okay, and alive, and herself. Sophie’s nails raked down his back as his hands slipped under her shirt, pushing it up her torso. He broke their kiss for a moment, encouraging her to lift herself so he could pull it off completely.

With her upper half fully exposed, Nate kissed down her neck, leaning on his left forearm as he squeezed her breast with his free hand. Every gasp she let out was another sign of life, an additional reminder that despite everything, she had survived.

Nate’s kisses lead him further down, over her left collarbone and breast before his mouth latched over her nipple, teasing it with his tongue.

“Nate!” Sophie’s hand tugged on his hair, pulling a low groan from him.

His free hand came up to pinch her right nipple before wandering down to where the band of her panties was snug against her hips. He released her breast from his mouth, giving a quick kiss to the hanging bat on her sternum before he encouraged her hips upward to pull off her last barrier. As her panties slid down her long legs, Nate wondered if she were taller now. He’d been too occupied when last they stood together to notice.

Sophie leaned up to tug down the band of his boxers, which were doing absolutely nothing to hide the evidence of his arousal. He adjusted his position to push the fabric off, then it was just him and Sophie — naked, together, and alive.

He leaned forward to kiss down her stomach, leading to the trimmed, coarse hair of her sex. Normally, this was when Nate would take his time to tease by nipping at her inner thighs, kissing everywhere except the place she needed him most. There was a time and place for those games, and now they had so much time. The games could wait.

Instead, Nate immediately licked at the wetness of her core, his tongue trailing upwards to gently flick at her clit. The choked gasp Sophie gave in response would be replaying in his head for days.

“God, Nate!”

The way she said his name when they were together like this was addictive, another hit of dopamine every time he heard it. He redoubled his efforts, wrapping his strong arms under her equally strong thighs and gripping her hips to pull her wet cunt against his mouth.

He knew exactly how she liked it, this was a well-practiced dance between them, but was never any less thrilling than that first time on that picnic blanket in the sunshine. His tongue circled around her clit again and again until it was firm and sensitive, then he sucked—

“Ah, fuck, Nathaniel—”

There it was, that was how he knew he was doing well. He continued his ministrations, Sophie’s moans and gasps only growing louder, especially as he pressed one of his long fingers into the wet heat of her cunt. He felt his cock twitch in interest at the feelings of her walls squeezing at his intrusion, a feeling that was only exacerbated with his addition of a second finger. He flexed his fingers, seeking to press up against that soft spot he’d come to know very well. Sophie’s thighs tightened around his head and he knew he had found it.

“Right there, yeah—hah—don’t stop—”

As if he would ever consider such a thing. He looked up her body to meet her eyes, the rich brown of a forest floor meeting the green of the pines above it, and watched as she came undone on his fingers and tongue. He worked her through her orgasm, not pulling away until it was clear she was beginning to get overstimulated. As he raised himself up from her heated center, Sophie grabbed his hand, still wet from her orgasm, and licked what remained off his fingers.

He was impossibly hard at this point, something Sophie had taken note of as she used her free hand to grip his straining length. Nate let out a groan, the pressure of her hand offering a desperately needed relief. Sophie’s thumb ran over his tip, spreading the pre-come that had gathered there over the rest of his length. Nate looked down their bodies to watch her work, her long, dainty fingers contrasting beautifully with the dark lettering on her knuckles. FARE was working his cock, WELL was still holding his wrist, though Sophie had since finished licking his fingers clean.

Sooner than he would have liked, Nate felt the familiar burn of his peak coming. He reached down to grab Sophie’s wrist, bringing her to a stop.

“Not yet,” His voice was breathy and desperate.

Sophie nodded, bringing both of her hands to feel their way up his chest, before putting one behind his neck to pull his face down to hers. Their mouths met once again, this time slower, but no less passionate. Nate’s still hard cock was resting on her pubic bone, catching Sophie’s attention.

Breaking their kiss, she quietly murmured to him, “Want you, please.”

How could Nate ever say no to a request like that? He leaned back, gripping himself by the base, before guiding his tip into her tight heat.

He would never get tired of the feeling of this. There was something so special about it, only with Sophie. She was closed off and stubborn— a result of a difficult upbringing and a clear lack of positivity in her life —but here, in the privacy of their coupling, she opened herself up in the most intimate way, and did so with such genuine love it made Nate’s heart ache.

He pushed in slowly, wanting to feel and cherish every moment of this. His gaze moved from where their bodies met to Sophie’s face, her mouth was open, letting out only small gasps, and her brow was furrowed in want. Again, their eyes met, this time as Nate bottomed out and Sophie let out a satisfied moan.

He waited a moment for her to nod, the way he always did, before he finally let himself go.

He created a steady pace, ensuring each stroke was long and deep, hitting all of the right places for her. Sophie’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her, until he felt every inch of their bodies moving together in tandem. God, it had been quite some time since they’d taken it slow like this, not having had the opportunity since Sophie moved into the warehouse full time.

He was lucky they were able to be together like this, lucky that she wasn’t six feet under, lucky that instead of hearing her death rattle he was hearing her beg him for more, beg him to touch her.

Nate let one of his hands slither down their bodies, his thumb finding her clit, stroking it in pace with his thrusts. He groaned as he felt her tighten around him in response, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Luckily for him, she clearly wasn’t going to be able to either.

“Oh Christ, Nathaniel, I- close, so close—“ Sophie let out a broken keen as she reached her second peak, her ankles locking together behind him, pulling him in further.

“Sophie,” was all he could manage to say as he came in response to her walls spasming around his length. He worked them both through it as he spilled inside of her, giving a few more shallow thrusts before coming to a stop.

Sophie’s legs unlocked behind him, dropping to his sides. He shifted, letting his softening cock slip out of her. If he pulled back to appreciate the sight of his spend dripping out of her, well, that was between them. Sophie was well aware of his proclivities; this one in particular they shared.

Nate rolled to his side, Sophie moving with him so they were left in a mirrored position of how they woke up. Her arm came up to rest on his chest, her hand holding onto the strong muscle of his shoulder. He looked down at her, his gaze softening at the sight of her satisfied smile. He brushed a lock of her wavy red hair from her cheek, his hasty braid from the night prior proving to be less than useful.

Even now, Nate was still surprised by how taken he was by her beauty.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Sophie’s hand moved to caress his stubbled jaw. “I missed you too. So much,” she hesitated a moment, but said nothing.

A heavy feeling swept over both of them.

“I’m sorry,” Nate broke the silence, “For how this went. It wasn’t what I wanted for you.”

Sophie gave a small shake of her head, “You don’t have a single thing to apologize for,” she stopped him before he could disagree. “Nate, this was always going to be a difficult process. There was nothing you could have done.”

Nate looked up at the ceiling, “No, I suppose there wasn’t,” he let out a sigh, “but you deserved something peaceful.”

Sophie gave a small, rare chuckle at that. “Considering the life I lead, I would have been shocked if I was able to achieve something as impossible as a peaceful turning,” She tapped his jaw, encouraging him to return his gaze to her. “Don’t linger on this, love. It’s done now.”

Nate let out a breath, “For that, I’m grateful.” He brought his hand up to her lips, letting his thumb pull down her bottom lip slightly. He couldn’t help but smile, “They suit you.”

Sophie huffed a laugh, “The fangs do?”

He nodded, “They’re rather long, they make quite a statement.”

“Well, I’m glad you like them.”

“I think I more than like them, ya rouhi,” he gave her a quick kiss before moving to sit up. “The fact that they’re still down, though, tells me that you’re still hungry.”

Even Sophie couldn’t deny that, and she wasn’t going to complain about getting to see Nate bare from behind while he went to get her another bag.

—————

“Aw man, I was hoping you’d be, like, seven feet tall!” Farah exclaimed from where she was splayed out on the antique couch.

“Thank fuck she’s not, the stares we’d get would be even worse.” Morgan said from the table she was sitting on in the corner.

That was the greeting Sophie received upon entering the meeting room of the Warehouse after twelve days. She wouldn’t have wanted any other kind.

Nate entered the room just after her, “Farah, no shoes on the couch, please.”

Farah rolled her eyes before over-dramatically tossing her legs off of the couch and getting onto her feet. In a flash of motion, she was in front of Sophie, grinning, the glow of sunshine spilling through the windows creating a halo around her. “So? Let’s see ‘em, Soph!”

Sophie grimaced at the nickname, but decided she would humor her this one time. Giving her a less-than-enthusiastic smile, she showed Farah her fangs.

“Woah,” Farah’s eyes widened, and even Morgan looked over curiously at her reaction. “Guess we know where your height went, those things are impressive.”

“Have you figured out what else you have going on?” Morgan asked her.

Sophie looked back at Nate, “There’s a lot we still need to figure out, but we have a few ideas.”

Nate nodded in agreement, his arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders, “It will take awhile for her to settle into her abilities enough for us to run tests.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Adam opening the door. The sight of her close friend was a welcome one; the last time she recalled seeing him was when she was wracked with fever in bed. Now, she was met with one of his rare smiles. “It is good to see you well and on your feet, Sophie.”

“That’s an understatement, I thought you were a goner for a second there,” Farah’s chuckle was quickly silenced by sharp glares from Nate and Adam.

“Relax, both of you,” Sophie said to the men at her side. She looked back at Farah, “In all fairness, I did too.”

“It was seriously scary there for a second, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with talking about that! Processing trauma and all, ya-da, ya-da. Looking on the bright side, though, I’m not the youngest vampire in the unit anymore, and Nate got his scary dog privileges back!”

“My what?” Nate said, looking a little baffled.

Sophie stared at Farah, thoroughly unamused.

“See, you’re already back in practice!” Farah pointed out, earning a snicker from Morgan.

“That is enough of that for the time being, we have a meeting starting within the hour.”

Farah groaned, “You’re no fun.”

As she turned to walk towards the meeting table, Sophie realized that the glow she had seen around Farah before was, in fact, not from the sunlight.

“Why are you gold?”

That had all of the vampires turning to look at her. Sophie turned her head to look at Nate, still with his arm over her shoulder, only to find him smiling at her in awe. Farah was back in front of her when she looked forward again.

“Are you… seeing my aura?” She looked positively enthralled by the idea, “Where are you seeing it?”

Sophie gestured vaguely around Farah’s head and shoulders.

“You are! You can see my aura!” She bounced back and forth on her feet, “Oh this is going to be so fun, I’ve never gotten to see someone figure out their abilities.”

“It is not usually under such pleasant circumstances,” Adam commented from the table.

“I’m kind of surprised you ended up with something so…” Farah seemed to chew over the word she was thinking of, “personal, I guess. You’re not exactly known for your people skills.”

Sophie wished she could disagree, but Farah was right.

“She’s a detective, Farah. Auras reveal important information about a person’s personality and mood.” Nate explained, but only received Farah’s blank stare in return. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Motive. It would help her determine motive and reliability.”

Sophie’s chin tilted up at that thought, “Why can’t I see yours, then?”

“You’re still settling into your abilities, I’m sure you’ll be able to see it in time.”

“Yeah, we’re not all as easy to pick up on as Farah,” Morgan commented from her corner.

“Oh, so I’m the easy one? News to me.” Farah playfully shot back.

Sophie, Nate, and Adam stood back as the other two began to bicker.

“There is much to learn about you yet again, Sophie,” Adam said, breaking their observation.

“Just when we thought we had it all figured out,” Nate chuckled, looking at her with no small amount of adoration. “What a journey this will be.”

Sophie gave a shy smile, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Nate kissed her forehead in response as Adam returned to his meeting preparations. Sophie wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into an embrace, tucking her head into the side of his neck. They stood there for a moment, just holding each other in the comfort of the warehouse, surrounded by family.

“Thank you,” She whispered into Nate’s neck.

“For what?” He asked, his voice light and gentle.

“For giving me this.”

#she’s hereeeeeee 🤭#thank you all again so much for the encouragement and comments #it means the world #re: merciless haze #the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #oc: sophie macnamara #my writing

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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 year ago

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Double, Double Boil and Trouble - Part 5

A/N: This is part 5 my fic for the @rare-clone-fic-exchange, which I wrote for @goblininawig. The story takes place in a shared continuity with Stars Beyond Number, Martyrs and Kings, and “Do It Again,” but it stands alone and can be read independently of those fics.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Boil x Reader (GN, has hair; reader practices tasseomancy/reads tea leaves)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.1K

Warnings and tags: mysticism; angst; fluff; mild critique of the Jedi Order (but no Jedi hate); fade-to-black sensuality; implied oral sex; ritualistic drug use; a description of being high on hallucinogens/psychedelics

Obligatory disclaimer: Please don’t use this as a how-to guide for or endorsement of drug use, because 1. it’s inaccurate to the real world, and 2. depending on your location, ThAt WOuld Be ILlEGal. This is a Wendy’s fanfic.

Summary: Boil is willing to do what it takes to get answers about Waxer.

Suggested Listening:

“You sure this won’t make me pop positive if I get tested?” Boil asked, eyeing the tin of tea warily.

“Completely. You have two rotations left of shore leave, and this will be out of your system in twenty-four hours.”

You spoke with certainty, and Boil felt some of his doubts ease. He picked up the tin and removed the lid, giving the tea a curious sniff. It didn’t smell like much; just faintly earthy and vegetal.

“So how does it work?”

“You brew it and drink it, just like regular tea,” you replied. “After a few minutes, you start to feel the effects.”

“And what do the effects feel like?” He set the tea tin down and took a bite of his breakfast.

“Nothing much at first,” you replied. “But when it hits, you’ll know. Everything will look a little clearer and brighter. Food will taste a little better. Everyday things will start to seem really, really interesting. People will be prettier and funnier and smarter.”

“That just sounds like a couple shots of Cheedoan whiskey,” Boil observed.

“Oh, somebody’s fancy,” you teased. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

He laughed and tossed his crumpled napkin at you, mostly for the fun of seeing you shudder and flick it away with a revolted expression. “The general bought a round for Ghost Company one time.”

“I hope he charged it to the Jedi Order,” you laughed. “Do Jedi get paid?”

“Search me,” he shrugged. “Clones don’t.”

You grimaced. “I know. Kriffing banthashit, is what that is.”

It didn’t change a thing, but Boil still felt a little better knowing you weren’t as complacent as the rest of the galaxy seemed to be about the clone troopers’ situation.

“So what makes this tea any different from a decent buzz?” he asked.

“That would be the visual hallucinations,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

He eyed you curiously. “I take it you’ve done this before.”

“A few times,” you nodded. “It can be pretty fun. You haven’t lived until you’ve watched the Eye of Aldhani��you know what, never mind.”

He laughed. “What about the ritual part?”

“It’s a little different. The dosage is higher, so the effects are more intense.” You hesitated a moment before adding, “There’s another element to it as well.”

“What’s that?”

“Force sensitivity,” you replied bluntly. “You need to either be able to wield the Force yourself, or have a strong connection with someone who can.”

He nodded, recalling a detail you’d told him months ago. “And your grandmother taught you to wield it? Why didn’t she send you to the Jedi for training?”

“Our world isn’t part of the Republic,” you explained. “The Jedi order has no jurisdiction that far out in Wild Space, and to be frank, we prefer it that way. They mind their own business, and we mind our own.”

Boil pondered your response quietly, noticing the strained expression in your eyes, and he remembered that you tried to stay off the Jedi’s scopes. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not talk about it.”

You gave him a grateful look and replied, “It’s all right. It’s not a secret or anything. It’s just…” You paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “We do things our own way. And when someone is born with the Sight—the Force—we train them in our own way, too. It doesn’t happen often, and there weren’t many elders with the Sight left by the time I was born. Gran took on my training, but I was only fifteen when she passed.”

Boil gazed steadily at you, feeling a deep sense of foreboding. “What happened?”

“I came to Coruscant, hoping the Jedi could help me. I scraped together everything I had in the galaxy to pay for the trip. But when I went to the temple, they said it was too dangerous to train someone who’d been ‘corrupted.’” The word came out harshly, as though it tasted bitter on your tongue. “They sent me away. Said I would be better off knowing nothing of the Force.”

Boil was horrified. “But you were just a kid!”

“Yeah,” you replied grimly. “I grew up pretty fast after that.”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine most of the Jedi he’d met ever treating a child with such callousness, but he and his fellow clones knew better than anyone that the Jedi order contained all sorts of beings, ranging from those who were kind and wise like General Kenobi, all the way to monsters like that kriffing traitor, Pong Krell.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, feeling the inadequacy of his words. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right,” you replied. “I’m older and wiser now, and I realize I probably wouldn’t have been the best fit in the Order. And I’ve picked up quite a bit of knowledge since then—especially since I met Tas. There are more paths to the Force than people think.”

The conversation had strayed into territory that was wholly unfamiliar to Boil, so he was relieved when your serious expression faded and the usual glint of humor returned to your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know what I’m doing.”

He smiled, content to let you steer the topic back to the ritual. “So when you say we need a strong connection, how strong are we talkin’?”

“It requires a very high level of trust. We will have to lower our mental defenses enough to allow each other in. When I’ve done it in the past, it was with people I was very close to—people I had known for years.”

“So you don’t do this for every trooper you bewitch?” he asked.

You grinned. “Actually, yes. After tonight, I will have done this for every single trooper I’ve bewitched. One-hundred percent success rate. Hopefully.”

“So what happens if our connection isn’t strong enough?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Nothing. We’ll have a hell of a trip, and tomorrow we can thank the Force that it wasn’t our money that got wasted on the tea.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said. “When should we do it?”

“We’ll need a few hours of uninterrupted privacy, so we’ll want to wait until I get off work tonight,” you replied. “It’ll be about half an hour before you start to feel the effects, and then we’ll begin the ceremony.”

“That sounds ominous,” he laughed. “Is there a blood sacrifice, or is that only on Centaxdays?”

“You know, I’m fresh out of sacrificial victims, so we’ll have to skip it this time.”

Your eyes sparkled, and he inhaled softly, stunned by how beautiful they were when you looked at him with that mischievous expression. Not that he would tell you that, obviously. What was he supposed to say?

You have the sweetest eyes in the galaxy.

I’ve never kissed anyone with such perfect lips.

The last two weeks have been the best of my life.

When I’m with you, I feel like everything is easier.

I don’t want to leave.

Please. He wasn’t a total sap.

“Cutting corners?” he asked instead, a hint of a taunt in his tone. “And here I thought I’d get special boyfriend privileges.”

He watched for your reaction out of the corner of his eye, and he didn’t miss the way you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Oh, you get boyfriend privileges,” you replied. “Door keycode, toothbrush, unlimited conservator access, your very own caf mug… And other things.”

He grinned, moving closer and sliding his hand around your waist, easing his fingers inside your ridiculous bathrobe to caress the bare skin of your hip.

“What other things?” he murmured in your ear, nipping the skin of your neck softly.

Kriff, you taste delicious.

“Ten percent discount on readings,” you replied.

“Ten percent?” he whispered, trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder as he untied the sash of your robe and brushed his fingers lower on your body. “You can do better than that.”

“F—five percent,” you stammered in a gratifyingly breathy voice. “That’ll teach you not to haggle.”

“Mm,” he hummed as he worked his mouth down your torso, dropping slowly to his knees in front of you. “Maybe we could work out a barter system. I’m sure I could provide some services you might find appealing.”

Your only response was a broken whimper as he took you with his mouth, gripping your hips and then sliding his hands back to cup your ass and pull you against his face.

Maker, I could worship you forever. I don’t want to leave.

Boil would rather die than admit he was nervous. For kark’s sake, he faced off against entire divisions of battle droids on a daily basis; how intimidating could a cup of tea possibly be? Besides, you seemed perfectly comfortable as you brewed the tea and lit a stick of incense, and there was no way he’d let you see him blink. He was a soldier of the Republic, and he wasn’t afraid of anything.

Still, some of his definitely-not-nervousness must have shown on his face, because you gave his arm an encouraging little touch as you walked past him into the living area. He watched as you pulled all the throw pillows off the sofa and your bed and piled them on the floor to make a soft, chaotic nest, and then you dimmed the lights. Your flat had already taken on a strange, mystical air, and he hadn’t even tasted a sip of the tea yet.

He watched curiously as you placed colorful stones in all the windowsills and doorways of your flat.

“What are those for?” he asked.

“Just making sure the only spirits that show up are the ones we want,” you replied with a lopsided grin, but the look in your eyes made him think you were deadly serious. “Nothing to worry about.”

He blinked. So I guess that’s definitely something to worry about.

“I’m not gonna get haunted by this, am I?” he asked, aiming for a casual tone and not quite nailing it.

“Definitely not!” you replied, before adding under your breath, “... probably.”

“Probably?”

“I’m ninety percent sure,” you reassured him. “Eighty-three percent sure.”

“Are you kriffing with me, or are you serious?” he demanded.

You laughed. “I’m kriffing with you. You definitely, probably won’t get haunted, and even if you do, Tas has a banishing spell that’ll get rid of anything.”

“You know you’re not exactly inspiring confidence, right?”

Your only response was a playful smile that made him want to kiss you until you forgot your own name, so he did. He caught you by the hand and hauled you into his arms, threading his fingers through your hair as he kissed you again and again.

“Could you be serious for ten seconds?” he murmured between kisses.

“No promises.” You flicked your tongue against the corner of his lips, and he nearly called off the entire operation and tossed you onto the bed on the spot.

With a rather impressive display of self control—if he did say so himself—he pulled away slightly and asked, “Are the walls of the Venator going to start weeping blood if I do this?”

“Oh, almost certainly not,” you replied. “Maybe just a droplet or two on the refresher mirrors…”

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then let out a reluctant laugh, dropping his forehead to rest against your shoulder. You wrapped your hand around the back of his head and pressed your lips against his temple.

“We don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to,” you said quietly.

His arms tightened around you as he inhaled deeply, trying to memorize your exact scent. “No. I want to know. I need to know.”

You held him silently for a moment, and then you nodded. “If you’re sure, then everything is ready.”

“I’m sure,” he said, pulling back just far enough to look into your eyes. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay.” You held him tightly for another moment, then broke away to retrieve the two mugs of tea from the kitchen. You passed one to him, then tapped your own against it. “Bottoms up, Buttercup.”

Boil was expecting the concoction to taste awful: bitter and sinister, maybe with a hint of brimstone. In reality, it was actually pretty good. It was smooth, a little spicy, and sweetened with honey, and he drained the cup without complaint. He waited expectantly, but nothing happened.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we watch an episode of It’s Always Sunny on Abafar and wait for it to kick in,” you replied, glancing down into the mug to quickly scan the leaves the way he’d noticed you do every time you finished a cup of tea.

Whatever you saw must not have been too terrible, given that you didn’t immediately cancel the evening’s activities. He shrugged and moved to the sofa, pulling you down with him as you turned on the holoscreen. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the luxury of being able to watch whatever he wanted, any time he pleased. Not to mention that your sofa, shabby as it was, was quite possibly the most comfortable piece of furniture in the galaxy—particularly with your head resting on his shoulder and your body tucked in close to his own as he curled around you.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” you warned, nudging him with your elbow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied.

The episode failed to hold his attention, and his mind and hands began to wander. He traced his fingertips over your shoulder and down your bare arm, around your wrist and back up again, enjoying the smooth warmth of your skin. He’d never touched shimmersilk in his life, but he would have bet a month of rations that your skin was softer. Eventually, he draped his arm around your waist and began to play with the hem of your shirt, tugging it up to expose your abdomen.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said, resting your hand over his. “There’s no way in hell I’m going there on your first trip.”

“Even if I want to?” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck.

“Nope. Besides, we’re not just doing this for fun, remember?” You rolled over to face him.

“Fine. Maybe next time.” He rested his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek softly as he gazed into your eyes. “Your pupils are huge.”

You snorted a laugh. “Seems like the tea is working. Shall we get started?”

He nodded. “What do we do?”

“I have bad news,” you said gravely. “We’re going to have to break the cuddle.”

“Not the cuddle!” he gasped in horror.

“I’m afraid so.”

He grumbled, but begrudgingly disentangled his limbs from yours. As he sat up, the room seemed to sway slightly, almost as if the entire building were floating in water. He didn’t want to alarm you, so he didn’t mention that the pattern on your wallpaper was definitely, absolutely, one-hundred percent coming to life. The designs gyrated and churned in a nauseating swirl, and he tore his eyes away from it, determined not to abort the mission for a reason as pitiful as tea-induced motion sickness.

He followed you silently to the nest of cushions you’d arranged on the floor, sitting opposite you with his legs crisscrossed. You scooted forward until your knees touched his, and you took his hands, holding them in a loose grip. He stroked his thumb over your palm, and the smile you gave him in return made him forget all about the wallpaper.

“Close your eyes,” you said softly, “and take a slow breath, all the way down to the bottom of your lungs.”

He did as you said, and as he exhaled gradually, he felt his stomach settle and the tension drain out of his shoulders. The pair of you repeated the exercise a few times, and then you asked him to focus on keeping his breath smooth and even. He was starting to feel incredibly relaxed and drowsy, and only his promise not to fall asleep kept him from drifting off.

“Think of somewhere you felt safe and happy,” you said in a low voice. “Picture it in your mind.”

Here. With you.

“Do you see it?” you asked.

“Yes,” he whispered, envisioning your cozy, colorful little flat as clearly as though he had opened his eyes.

He was alone in his mental version of the flat, and he took a moment to look around. It was tidier in his mind, with the nest of cushions all put back where they belonged, and no telltale pastry crumbs on the kitchen counter. But aside from that, it was the same, filled with signs of you—the eclectic jumble of teacups on your kitchen shelf; the colorful array of robes hanging on hooks on the wall; the vibrant collection of thrifted art hanging on the walls. It even smelled like your scent. The only thing missing was—

Knock knock.

He turned toward the door in his mind, and then he was standing in front of it without ever having moved his feet. He leaned in to look through the peephole—wait, your door has a holoscreen. The image in his mind warped, and suddenly the holoscreen appeared. You stood outside in the hallway, waiting.

“Will you let me in?” you asked quietly.

Your lips didn’t move in the vision of you he saw within his mind, and he realized you’d spoken the words aloud.

“Yes,” he replied, opening the door.

As you stepped inside, your gaze flicked around the flat, and your breath caught. Too late, Boil realized he’d revealed far more than he intended. He swallowed nervously, bracing himself for your mockery now that you had witnessed the true depth of his feelings for you.

When you looked at him, though, there was no trace of ridicule in your eyes. You stepped closer and took his hand in yours, and as you did, he felt the soft pressure of a gentle, reassuring squeeze on his physical hands. To his relief, that was the only acknowledgment, though he had a feeling the two of you would be having a long conversation once the effects of the tea had worn off.

“Are you ready?” you asked, and somehow, he knew you’d asked the question directly to his mind.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied without speaking.

You smiled. “In that case, I’d like you to meet someone.”

Your gaze shifted to a point over his shoulder, and he turned slowly. A stranger stood behind him, ancient and wrinkled, with eyes that somehow seemed very familiar and very, very kind. A faint blue glow emanated from her, and though she seemed solid enough, Boil had the distinct feeling that if he were to open his eyes, he’d see nothing but you, sitting across from him in a nest of cushions.

“Is this the boy you told me about?” she asked, inspecting him closely.

“Yes,” you replied. “Gran, I’d like you to meet Boil.”

#clone trooper boil #clone trooper boil x reader #boil x reader #gn reader #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #dystopicjumpsuit writes

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chattercap · 8 months ago

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Current Project Roadmap (September 2024)

As we enter the last part of the year, I figure that it would be a good time to do a quick rundown of all the projects that I'm currently working on!

First, regarding my previous announcement about removing animations, after receiving some feedback I've decided to go ahead with removing them, to give me a bit more flexibility in terms of asset creation and enable me to release Android builds. However, for the games that I've already released, I'll be retaining versions with the animations (so - Karamu, Kanau, and MindMindMind), except for The Deepwater Witch - since I only released a demo, and it would be awkward if half of it was animated and half of it wasn't LOL

Project: The Perfect Woman Key words: Psychological horror, literally the only thing that I've made that isn't a romance, this project has been stuck at 99% for the past three weeks

Current progress: The game is basically complete, and I just need to finish debugging some of the saving and loading. I basically ended up using this project as a playground for testing some new systems, so it took longer than expected LOL I'm going to take some time to document all of my changes before I focus on polishing it up. Expecting to release on September 13th.

Project: Karamu Trilogy Key words: Romance, horror, emotionally needy ex-boyfriends, blackmail and possessive behavior is okay if you have shared trauma, yandere love interest (who unfortunately becomes a better person, I apologize)

Project details: One love interest (M), established protagonist (F).

Current progress: The script for the final part is 100% complete, at 65k words (over double the length of Karamu and Kanau combined! Haha!) It has been revised and passed along to the voice actors. I'm also collaborating with some very kind translators to release a French translation of Karamu and Kanau and a Russian translation of Karamu.

Project: The Deepwater Witch Key words: Romance, surreal, post-apocalyptic, twisted fairy tale, grumpy practically homeless man x mute sunshine mermaid, Ramil is my BEST pathetic man and I stand by this

Project details: One love interest (F), established protagonist (M).

Current progress: The script is 100% complete, and I have a few CGs left to do.

Project: Actala: The Hero's Shadow Key words: Romance, fantasy, mystery, childhood friend romance with a good dosage of additional Eldritch horror, basically every tag that I could add for this would be a massive spoiler what do I do

Project details: Five love interests (M), established protagonist (F).

Current progress: The updated demo is about 50% complete, and I've been working slowly on the remaining CGs and sprites.

🌹Code Name: You Just Want to Plant Flowers but Your Yandere Knight Traps You in a Tower, Toxic GF Edition❄️

Key words: Romance, twisted fairy tale, hero-to-villain love interest, friends/lovers-to-enemies arc, GF that can either princess carry you or rip your head off, tragedy, yandere love interest

Project details: One love interest (F), customizable protagonist.

Summary: You're the heir to the royal family, but you've been kidnapped and trapped in a tower by one of the kingdom's strongest knights, who used to be your best friend. Although the kingdom sends knights to rescue you, she cuts them all down without mercy. Why is she doing this? How can you escape? And the question is… do you want to?

Current progress: The project is fully outlined, and writing is in progress. The logo is complete!

🔪Code Name: I'm Trapped on an Island With My Husband, Who Is Probably Going to Divorce Me or Stab Me🦑

Key words: Romance, psychological horror, marriage drama, tragedy, yandere love interest

Project details: One love interest (M), customizable protagonist.

Summary: Following a horrible family tragedy, you've retreated to a remote island with your loving husband. However, things aren't going well for your marriage. After a horrible fight, you wake up to find that your husband is… different. Kinder. More understanding. At first, you're happy, but he's also acting a bit strangely. You start to wonder… is this the man that you married?

Current progress: The project is fully outlined, and writing is in progress. The logo has been commissioned.

🌶️Code Name: I Got Isekaied into a Smutty AU Where My Demon Boyfriend Blackmails Me into Marriage!🕸️

Key words: Romance, smut, historical, revenge, murder spouses, blood makes everything sexier apparently, yandere love interest

Project details: This is a NSFW spinoff of one of my previous projects, Karamu, featuring the same characters and similar themes in a historical Japanese setting, with more sex and more murder! One love interest (M), established protagonist (F).

Summary: Every three days, a body appears in the harbor, surrounded by red flowers and covered in golden threads, its heart torn out of its chest. People say that it's the work of a demon. After her best friend is beaten half to death by her husband, Nelli decides to do anything to save her - even if it means making a deal with that very same demon.

Current progress: The project is fully outlined, and writing is in progress. Once I decide on a title, I'll commission a logo!

Additional note: Since this is a NSFW project, I'm not comfortable with making it freely accessible. As a result, I'll be paywalling at least the NSFW portion (depending on how integral the NSFW is to the plot, I'll either release this as free with NSFW DLC or a free demo + paid full game).

I'll be focusing on finishing up The Perfect Woman during the first half of September! After that I plan to release demoes (hopefully) for both the knight gf game and the husband-traps-you-on-an-island game sometime in December.

Other than that, I would be curious if anyone has projects that they're looking forward to! 🤔 I've basically been working on projects as I like, but if there are any projects that you're interested in particular, let me know and I'll try to prioritize accordingly! 🙇 If not I'll try to divide my time so that I make decent progress on all of them, prioritizing my announced projects.

Thank you to everyone who's following along with my work 😊

Chattercap

#general #general-dev #general-news

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wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

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Moonlight - Chapter Five

A woman’s life is turned completely upside-down when she encounters some demons in the woods.

I will be putting specific warnings for each chapter as they come out, there is smut and violence in some but I'll tag those chapters accordingly.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

1k Words - Warnings: None.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Lilacs

Emma was sitting against a tree overlooking the plain, one of Elijah's books in her lap. She found it in the clearing that morning, with a note from him telling her he would visit later. She studied the note, tracing her fingers over his perfect cursive, then tucked it away in her dress pocket.

She began rubbing a salve over her bruised shoulder, hoping it would dull the pain a bit. She swore under her breath when some of it dropped on a page, wiping it off hastily.

She heard the familiar sound of twigs snapping as he made his way down the path. He sat down next to her silently, pulling at the fabric of her dress to look at her bruises.

"Don't," she said quietly, brushing his hand off of her and avoiding his gaze.

Elijah sighed, his expression clouding with concern. "I can make him stop," he said.

"No, I can handle it," she replied, her eyes fixed on her lap.

"By slowly poisoning him?" he questioned, a sardonic chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned back against the tree.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she met his gaze. "Do demons know all my darkest secrets?" she inquired.

He laughed, the handsome creases around his dark eyes deepening. "No, dear Emma, I can smell the poison in his blood." He gave her a reassuring pat on her leg. "I advise that you increase the dosage," he said.

She let out a small sigh as shame washed over her, putting her head down in her hands. "Is that why I am so drawn to you? Because of the darkness in my heart?" She asked.

"No, it's not darkness, but a yearning for freedom. I can grant you that, if it's what you desire," he assured her.

She sat up, turning to meet his gaze. "At what cost?" she inquired.

"Everything," he replied, a warm smile gracing his lips.

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. She couldn't help but study his striking features, her fingertips delicately tracing the contours of his jaw. Such a beautiful monster, she thought, her head resting on his shoulder. A profound silence settled between them as they both gazed toward the horizon, where a formation of clouds drifted in the distance.

He turned his head slightly, his lips grazing the top of her head. "It's my turn to show you something," he murmured into her hair. With a graceful movement, he stood and reached out his hand to help her up.

"Where?" She asked, taking his hand. He gave her a teasing smile and motioned his head towards the woods.

He held her hand as he guided her along an unfamiliar path until they reached the far end of the old hall grounds. She stopped walking, hesitating at the treeline. "Is Niklaus there?" She asked.

Elijah looked to the old hall and back at Emma, giving her a gentle look. "Don't worry; he will not harm you."

They stepped out and crossed the grounds, entering the old hall through a side door. The place smelled of decaying wood and lilacs. She could see a vase full of the fresh flowers on a table. "Did you pick those?" She asked, pointing at them.

He nodded, "They remind me of you."

A faint blush adorned her cheeks as she followed him down a long hallway. He stopped outside a pair of old double doors and moved behind her. "Close your eyes," he whispered in her ear. She nodded, and he gently covered her eyes with his hands.

Feeling her way, she carefully pushed the doors open. He removed his hands, and she opened her eyes. Before her lay a magnificent library, illuminated by soft candlelight. Hundreds of titles were neatly placed on ancient wooden bookshelves, their spines bearing the weight of centuries of knowledge. Overwhelmed with joy, she went to one of the shelves and picked up a book, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Elijah with a huge smile on her face.

"This is wonderful," she said, her voice filled with genuine excitement, as she read the back of a book, then placed it down to pick up another. Elijah came up behind her, his arms encircling her waist. He was warm and firm, his presence comforting like the scent of pine trees on a crisp morning. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, and she instinctively leaned into him. So safe she felt, in the arms of a demon.

She could see the sun setting from the window, its golden hues casting a warm glow across the room, and she let out a sigh. "I must go home," she whispered, her voice barely audible, not wanting to leave his embrace.

"I know," he said quietly, lowering his head and brushing his lips along the bruises on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, as the sensation elicited goosebumps across her skin and ignited a growing warmth between her legs. The temptation to turn around and give in to desire was overwhelming, a magnetic pull between them that neither could deny.

"I see you two have grown close; how very scandalous," Klaus interrupted, leaning casually in the doorway, an amused expression playing on his face as he glanced between Elijah and Emma.

"The coven is gathering tonight. I think we should crash their party if you're not busy," he said to Elijah.

Elijah nodded and reluctantly released his hold on Emma. She turned to him with a concerned look etched on her face. "It's alright; I'll walk you home," he reassured her, his gaze softening with tenderness as he took her hand and led her out of the library.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

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illarian-rambling · 10 months ago

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Thanks for the tag @ray-writes-n-shit!

Rating OC Headcanons

Rules: Use this headcanon generator and see what it comes up with for your ocs :)

Izjik almost drank the lethal dosage of caffine once.

As much as she is your average tradesperson, I don't think she gets much of a kick out of caffine. She's just naturally hype.

Sepo watched the sonic movie.

Yes, but Djek and Izjik made him go. He secretly thought it was fun, but loudly complained for the entire ride back to keep up his reputation.

Twenari enjoys doing taxes.

This is canon. She does all the Outcasts' taxes and has been committing massive amounts of fraud under their noses since that's just how she thinks it's done. Someone in the fantasy IRS is burning blood, sweat, and tears trying to catch this mysterious fraudster, unaware that their perp is a twelve-year-old filing for three semi-literate adults.

Djek speaks only in meme references.

God, I wish he knew what a meme was. He totally would if such things existed on Illaros.

Astra set a public school on fire and got away with it.

Never a public one. A private college... maybe. She's got some beef with academia.

Mashal is queer.

Canon. That is one very bisexual man. Plus, he was in the army, so that basically makes him double bisexual.

Ivander is going to hell.

Sometimes, these headcanon generators just spit something way too true for comfort. Ivander is indeed going to hell for breaking his contract with a god, and much of his arc in the first book is focused on preventing that by nullifying said contract. The idea of damnation terrifies him.

Elsind has chronic nightmares.

Low hanging fruit, that's all my ocs. But yes, Elsind frequently has nightmares about being back in Marquis Sunflight's mansion.

Avymere makes your mom jokes.

They would, but only once and everyone would be so stunned they'd think they'd hallucinated it. It wouldn't even be a good joke.

I'll tag @mk-writes-stuff @clearcloudlesssky @evilgabe29 and anyone else who wants to play :)

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #oc headcanons

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fireheartedpup · 6 months ago

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I am once again having to play phone tag just so I don't have to pay $80 a month for my dog's heart medication.

She gets pimobendan for a heart murmur, okay, so the form that's often prescribed is called Vetmedin. That's the brand name. It's $45 for 30 pills and she takes two pills a day, so that's roughly a 2 week supply. I think it's actually cheaper than the last place, which often charges like $55 for 30 pills? I need to double check this.

The point is that a full month supply is somewhere around $80-90 a month. This is obviously not ideal.

I gave up on ordering third party when I was with Vetco, because they said they didn't get a call every. single. time. I ordered. The one or two times they actually did get some form of communication (I think they just weren't clear on what was happening because it's a large corporation and I had a new person trying to help me most of the time), they said the dosage was wrong.

I do think I made a mistake at least once, but the point is that I tried at least three different vendors and it never worked. It was never easy. I couldn't just order and expect them to sort things out themselves, I had to keep calling and checking to see what was going on.

Now that I'm with Modern Animal instead, I decided to try again. The problem is that Modern Animal is also a large corporation. They have a base in a different state, and that's who they route the phone calls to. They offer 24/7 virtual care, which is nice when you don't want to overburden your staff, but a bit problematic when you get a new person every single time who has to try to pick up the pieces the last person left and figure out what's going on.

Especially when the tech you're talking to hasn't actually seen your pet in person. I love the availability of virtual care, but sometimes I just really need to talk to the person who actually examined her.

I placed the order Sunday. I gave them two days to get things in order before calling on Tuesday. I asked what was happening, and they said they would reach out.

Now, the pharmacy I'm trying to order from SAYS they will contact you with updates about your order. What they mean is that you will get an email when things moved forward. They do not email or call when things go into a stalemate. They'll send a bunch of promotional emails in the interim, though. 🙄

This means I have to keep checking the website to see what's happening. I can't just trust things to go smoothly, I have to log in and check the order form over and over to find out what's happening.

The pharmacy added a note that said the vet declined the prescription. Apparently, there was some confusion; I'm trying to order the quad tab that you split into fourths. It is specifically designed to do this. By people who work in vet medicine. Who work with animals. In a pharmaceutical capacity. That's what quad tabs are for.

I tried to show my homework ahead of time. I sent a message over asking if I was correct about the dosage and the pill splitting. I did the math myself and double checked it.

They replied that "theoretically" it would work, but they couldn't guarantee that she would get the correct dose since the pill was going to be split.

I included the link to the item I was ordering in the message. It was right there. It was easy to click on and easy to reference. I don't think they clicked on it.

So I called the pharmacy this time, and told them what was going on. They said they would call and explain. I waited for a while, and decided that, you know what, I don't have a busy schedule in the same way they do, I'm just going to call the vet and try to work this out.

Apparently the vet who needs to prescribe her medication is out today. Because I'm ordering the 5 mg and not the 1.25 mg, the vet needs to write an entirely different prescription just so I can get these pills. You know, the pills that I am very specifically going to split so that I can give her the exact same dosage that I am giving her now.

At this point, she's got five and a half days of medication left, and I chose standard shipping, so I might have to order additional medication from the vet office in the interim. The last time I did that, this pharmacy was so slow that by the time they checked, I'd already had to order an additional dose, so the last vet office declined the prescription because they said it had already been ordered.

Hello? She needs this for the rest of her entire life?

So. Hopefully things will go more smoothly tomorrow. I'm going to wait until I know the medication has been shipped, if at all possible, in an attempt to avoid further problems.

I could have just ordered the 1.25 mg pills and given her the whole thing instead of splitting them, but if I order 60 pills it's going to be $38 before shipping. It's a lot better than $45 for 30 pills, but if I order 30 of the 5 mg pills and split them into fourths, 30 x 4 is 120. Divide 120 by 2 and it's 60, so I'll be getting the same amount of doses for $27. Add standard shipping and that's $37.

...this is why they make you do math class.

I don't like math. But I did my best. And I'm pretty sure this is the most economical option.

On the bright side, she and I have matching heart issues

#not really but really #it's almost like we're actually related #same eye color and everything #personal

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spacesymbol · 7 months ago

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anyways HI. its been uhh... two weeks since last post but about a month since any actual life updates. so im gonna do... that!

gonna split this one into tumblr specific updates and personal updates since i figure the latter is a little less important to some people. not trying to sound mean there, i get the feeling!

anyways, tumblr specific updates!

the big update is that i completely revamped my carrd. theres a lot more text now, and the layout doesnt look as good on mobile as it does on desktop, but i still like how it looks a lot better than the previous version.

i also added a new tag to my pinned. the tag is just this 📁 emoji, and its sort of a catchall tag for posts about media that i like. since i got rid of alter tags a while ago and i dont really like tagging specific franchises, i figured this works better for now.

my pinned post was also updated to reflect this change, and theres even a new tag guide/explanation!

okay now for the more personal life related updates. theres a LOT you have been warned!

where did i last leave off... right, the delaware trip! okay well i say that as if a lot happened on that trip. which is incorrect.

the only real big thing about the delaware trip was that i was kind of suffering for the whole trip since i had just been put back on adhd medication, and the dosage was WAY too high so my body did not adjust well at all and i was having like horrific symptoms for the whole week. and i wish i could truthfully say that the dosage of that medication is sorted out now but i cant!!!! 🥲

in the four days between the end of the delaware trip and the first day of school i went to a friends belated birthday party... which was the only time i hung out with any of my friends for the entire summer actually. but the party was still fun...!!

the rest of the updates are gonna be school related. since the next significant thing after that party was the first day of senior year.

my classes have all been manageable so far. i think the stress is definitely going to pile up soon with college application deadlines swiftly approaching, but the impending reality of that hasnt really set in yet. it is definitely nice to be taking classes i genuinely enjoy this year, even if the coursework is difficult!

i dont remember how much ive talked about my social standing at school on here but tldr it sucks. i dont have any genuinely close friends or a dedicated friend group that enjoys my presence at all. something something the we should call fiona interview quote... thats basically described my social situation for the past several months.

in terms of theater. hoo boy. well you see, our drama teacher (and shows producer) is on maternity leave. and not only did she switch the order of plays and musicals again (the fall show is a play this year), but she chose two plays for us to do this fall.

basically both shows are one act plays with no real lead roles since the scenes arent connected at all. performances will go like: show one, intermission, show two. and the "no lead roles" thing would be great except for the fact that this is one of my two senior theater productions with this school and i would like the chance to earn bigger roles, you know?

anyways auditions came and went and the cast list was released last thursday. and you will never guess who one of my romantic scene partners is. well. its my ex 😁👍

i mean besides the fact that i have to pretend to swoon over my ex, im really happy with my roles. i got double cast in one of the plays as opposed to one role in each play, and i like the play i got double cast in a lot better. and i only auditioned with two scenes from that play, and got cast in both of those scenes that i auditioned with, so i assume the director really liked my auditions?

also one of the scenes im in (not the one with my ex) is fully just an internalized homophobia turned "dude i think i love you" scene and its just SUCH a good scene. i really like my scenes and characters, i am just rightfully worried about rehearsing a romantic scene with my ex for two months...! but it will be fine. probably

okay this is getting REALLY long but uhhh general not-life-related updates.

undertale day!!! we split a chara less than 24 hours after the newsletter dropped 👍

my cats fifth birthday was last wednesday!!!!!! i could write a whole essay about how much this tiny beast means to me but just know i love her lots okay?

okay. okay. i THINK thats everything i have to say. uhh this is the part of the post where i talk about future tumblr updates and status.

idk. idk!!!!!!!!! the stress and busyness of senior year is kind of starting to get to me a bit so i might just disappear for a few months. or maybe ill continue updates every couple of weeks or every month.

i definitely want to return to posting here as regularly as i used to, but i always either avoid it for some reason or have other things i need to be doing instead. so whos to say how active ill be! i definitely dont know!

#💭

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lightyearssurrogatedaddy · 2 years ago

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"From what I've gathered, is this the way it is?"

and

"From what I've gathered, this is the way it is."

Error's a critic, critics take things and put defined labels on them objecting them either bad or good. To him the world can be sorted away because in the end it's just a piece of media, and in his mind he gets to decide if that media is good enough for itself (it never is.) No other person can tell him otherwise because "it's the truth and that's just how it is."

Ink's an enjoyer, it doesn't matter what it is or how ugly it seems, every piece of art is precious. He'll admit some have flaws, but he doesn't think the flaws are worth scorning it over, things grow, they change, it comes from someone's heart. He doesn't have a place to determine what it's meaning is, but he can theorize it and give advice.

Uhm, people I know were having a debate on if Ink and Error are above or below average intelligence, I think it's really funny that it even came up.

Intelligence (according to Google) can be told by adaptability, curiosity, high self control, humor, and enjoyment of their own company.

On a side note, it takes a smart person a longer amount of time to grow bored in an empty room.

Ink is characterized to be very liquid with events (get it?), if there is an obstacle in front of a goal he'll spend time to think of a way around it and achieve what he wants. Other times the plot won't really force him to think up a plan, and he'll tag along for the sake of having fun or because he was thrown into it. He doesn't fight back (usually) and goes with the flow until something bothers him.

Ink adapts!

Error is as stubborn as a mule. When a problem in tossed in his path he'll kick it out of the way, move it, go around it. Most of the time the plot revolves around him setting his sights on something and finding different ways to evade or convince others to let him have it.

Instead of adapting to the changes, he adapts to get past it.

Their curiosity levels are roughly the same. What would happen if I did this? How would people react if I said this? Is there a way I could get to that faster? What does this mean? etcetc.

Depends on what you consider, "Having self control." is. Is it the self control of staying on task and not getting sidetracked, or the self control of attaining to other's feelings or opinions and keeping your anger in?

Error is impulsive, if something irks him the right way he'll turn around and challenge it, not thinking of the consequences. You don't know him for a level-head or calm attitude. He's better at staying motivated and having the internal self-control of, "This is where I'm going and this is how I'll get there", everything else is a coin-toss.

Ink is also impulsive, randomly trying things out to see what they do. He doesn't have the self control of knowing what would hurt another person's feelings, but does have the control of not letting things spiral out of hand by getting too emotional or upset when someone confronts him. Because... funny funny, he can fully control how much of one emotion he feels at a time and uses a level of I guess... control to make sure he's getting the proper dosage, and stay on that consistency.

They're sanses (or used to be) of course they're 'humerus'. They show it off constantly.

The enjoyment of one's company is the enjoyment of the sound of your own brain. Your brain processes things and finds ways to make it interesting, ways to learn from it, when you're alone you can fully indulge in whatever comes to mind.

Ink daydreams, he comes up with ideas or figures something new out, he thinks about what he knows or what he doesn't know.

Error considers, things that are new or things that interest him, and sorts it away with an opinion.

It takes a smart person longer to grow bored, and it takes doubled the amount of time to find something interesting again. When the brain can't find anything new it runs a track in the things it already knows. Eventually those tracks (if ran constantly without any sort of breath of fresh air) are run far enough, you're guaranteed madness.

"What the hell does that have to do with intelligence?"

You can't go mad once if you don't have at least a little bit of IQ in your skull, and they've both been through white torture before, right?

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #error sans #ink sans #small rant #yeah idk what i'm talking about lmfao #that was fun

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wolferine · 4 years ago

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Heart Eyes

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Set after my “Heart Skips a Beat” story, Natasha visits the reader after surgery.

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Word count: 1261

Tags: @yeetus-thyself

AN: This is a one-shot stand alone and you do not have to read the previous story to understand this one! But you can if you want. :)

You’re the only one who needs surgery after the mission due to the extensive damage to your leg, so while the others return to their rooms to shower and change, Natasha stays by your side in the medical bay while the doctors make their preparations.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting kind of tired of this,” you say. It would be your second surgery in the span of less than ten days, a record even by Avengers’ standards.

“It’s all part of the job, right?” She smiles and holds your hand.

“I haven’t seen you on a hospital bed yet,” you tease, although that’s something you never want to see.

“Well, I know what I’m doing,” she says, laughing at your frown. “Besides, you know I couldn’t pull off one of these gowns like you do.” She reaches out and crinkles the sleeve of your unflattering paper gown between her fingers.

“I think I look a lot better without it,” you say with a wink.

“Can’t argue with that.” Natasha leans over and kisses you.

A nurse in blue scrubs come into the room with a massive syringe. “We’re all ready for you, Y/N,” he says.

“Please tell me you’re not sticking that in my butt,” you say, eyeing the obscenely long needle on the end.

“It’s supposed to go in your arm, but if you’d rather it go elsewhere…”

“No, no, my arm is fine.”

“Try not to give the doctors a hard time, okay? I’ll be right here when you’re done.” Natasha stands and puts her hand on your shoulder. The nurse comes to your other side and you offer him your arm. He pokes the needle through your skin and injects you with a double dose of anesthesia.

You feel the effects instantly. Your eyelids feel like they’re attached to sandbags and your anxious breathing steadies. You don’t even feel Natasha’s kiss to your forehead, your head rolling back on the pillows as the nurse wheels you out of the room.

***********************************************************************

After the surgery, the doctors return you to your hospital room to let you wake up naturally from the anesthesia. Unfortunately, the super soldier serum made it difficult for them to calculate an accurate dosage to keep you asleep during the surgery, so they pumped you with anesthesia until you were smelling colors.

Your entire right leg is wrapped in a cast and elevated in a sling. You’re still completely knocked out when Natasha comes back, cleaned up and changed out of her uniform.

“The surgery went very well,” the nurse tells Natasha. “It will be a while until the anesthesia fully wears off, so Y/N will probably be loopy in the beginning, but it’ll pass. You know how it goes.”

“I do,” Natasha says, although she is a little uncomfortable that you’re caught up in the medical bay so frequently and wishes you weren’t such a magnet for trouble.

“Give me a call if you need anything, okay?” the nurse says.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaves to give you two some privacy.

Natasha pulls up a chair to wait in until you wake. She picks a magazine from your bedside table and opens it up.

About ten minutes later, your eyes flutter open and you gauge your surroundings blearily, having no idea where you are. The first thing you see is the gorgeous redhead with stunning green eyes sitting by your side, flipping through a magazine. Her hair is tied in a loose braid that rests across her left shoulder. She wears a gray short-sleeve shirt that fits her form nicely and a pair of jeans.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she says. How she noticed you ogling at her without even looking at you blows your mind.

“Who…Who are you?” You tongue feels fat and floppy in your mouth.

Natasha grins when she realizes you’re so out of it you don’t even recognize her. She is tempted to record your reaction, but remembers she left her phone upstairs in your room. She puts the magazine down. “I’m Natasha,” she says, reaching for the water cup on your bedside and holding the straw to your lips.

“That’s a…pretty name,” you say, trying to direct the straw into your mouth and failing miserably. Natasha struggles to hold back a laugh but waits patiently for you to catch the straw and take a sip. “I’m…Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. How are you feeling?” she asks, setting the cup back on the table.

“I don’t…really feel anything,” you admit.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Not really…”

“Someone broke your leg, so the doctors had to do surgery to make sure everything was set properly,” Natasha explains.

“Well, that was nice of them,” you slur. “Not the idiot who broke my leg, though.”

“He was taken care of,” she says.

“Good, good.” You close your eyes, already exhausted from the simple conversation. “Well, in case I fall back asleep again…I just wanted to say you that you are the most beautiful human being I have ever seen in my life. And I’ve seen…a lot of people.”

Natasha blushes scarlet and she laughs. “Aw, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say. “Your parents should be…very proud.”

“I’d like to think they are,” Natasha says.

“Are you dating anyone?” you ask, opening your eyes again.

“I am.” She smiles.

“Aw.” You sigh. “The hot ones are always taken.”

“You’re not too bad-looking yourself,” she comments.

“If you think I look good like this…” You look down at yourself, wondering where in the world your clothes went and why you’re wearing the equivalent of an artist’s smock, “…you should see me on a good day.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that.” Natasha’s eyes shine with amusement.

“I don’t know if your partner would like that very much,” you say.

“Yeah, you’re probably right…” she trails off, fighting a laugh.

You can’t help yourself and reach out to touch her face, completely taken by her jawline that looks like it was sculpted by angels. Her skin is soft and flawless, and she lets you trace your thumb over the contour of her cheek. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, in awe that someone could look so perfect. “I hope your partner takes good care of you.”

Natasha leans into your hand. “Very much,” she says.

“What do they do for a living?” you ask.

“What I do,” Natasha says.

“And what do you do?”

“I’m an Avenger.”

You try to whistle, but your lips are too numb and you end up spitting all over yourself. “Okay, that’s pretty hard to top,” you say, trying to wipe drool off your chin.

“I wouldn’t stress about it.”

You notice that she hasn’t stopped smiling at you. “Well, if you ever get bored and want to come hang out with me, I think I can show you a good time,” you offer. “We would definitely make a cute couple.”

“I don’t know about that, Y/N,” Natasha says, to your disappointment. Maybe you came on too strongly. “You might make your girlfriend jealous.”

“Girlfriend? I have a girlfriend?” This is news to you. And now you feel guilty, trying to flirt with Natasha when you’re already committed to someone else.

“Yeah.” Natasha takes your hand into hers. “It’s me, you idiot.”

Your jaw drops as you try to process this. “I’m…an Avenger?”

“Mhmm.”

“And I’m dating you?”

“Yep.” She nods.

“Wow.” You grin. “Well, someone’s winning at life.”

“That makes two of us.” Natasha finally kisses you and you melt against her.

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AN: Ah, these two are so cute. Here is my taglist for future stories if you’re interested. I’ve got some good stuff coming, so hopefully you’ll stick around for those. Story fun fact time:

-This piece was inspired by a viral video of a woman flirting with her nurse while on anesthesia. -Natasha “blushes scarlet” at one point in this story, which is obviously a reference to—okay, do I really need to say it?

Until next time!

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel imagine

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

All For Us Chapter 6

Here it is, enjoy 😘

Check out my masterlist to catch up on this story or read my other ones, and let me know if you want to be tagged.

Word count: 5686

“Daddy’s here!” Imani yelled in excitement before hopping down off the kitchen stool and running to the door as soon as she heard it open.

Erik had only been back with them for about a week, but in that short amount of time, he and his Cupcake had become attached at the hip. He read her bedtime stories every night, and he took her to school in the mornings so the two of them could have daddy-daughter bonding time. Erik and Mira would pick her up together at the end of the day, and it had become such a habit over the few short days they stayed in the palace that when Mira showed up to pick Imani up from school by herself, the little girl was crushed. She instantly became worried that Erik was gone again and burst into tears, but Mira was able to calm her down and remind her of their conversation the night before about his new job.

“Baby girl, we have to talk to you about something,” Mira said as she and Erik entered their daughter’s room.

“What is it?” Imani put her crayons down and looked up at her parents as they came and sat on the floor across from her.

“The three of us are going on an adventure around Wakanda!” exclaimed Mira.

“Really?!” Imani perked up. “What kind of adventure?”

“Well, we can’t really get to know Wakanda well without exploring it, right?” Erik chimed in.

“Right!”

“So we’re gonna spend the next couple months living in the different provinces. You’ll still get to go to your same school with your friends, but you’ll get to make even more friends all over Wakanda.”

“I know how much you like being here with Auntie, and Lala, and Shuri-” Mira began before her child corrected her.

“And Okoye, and A’Kidi, and Ayo,” Imani said with a smile.

“Yes, them too,” Mira chuckled. “You’ll still get to come visit, and the adventure is only for a few months. We’ll be right back here in no time. What do you think?”

“II like it! Where are we going?”

“Well, you know how it snowed back home a few months ago, and you got to play outside in it?”

“Mhm.” Imani nodded furiously.

“First, we’re going someplace where it’s like that every day! It’s called Jabariland,” Mira said with a flourish.

“Jabariland?”

“Mhm, and then we’ll be out in the countryside for a while. We’ll be close to Shuri’s lab, and she said you could come visit her whenever.”

“After that, we’ll be out near the rhinos. Mommy told me how much you love feeding them,” Erik smiled down at her.

“Their tongues tickle,” Imani giggled.

“Then, we’re gonna go live on the river, and then we’ll be back here.”

“I still get to see my friends at school?”

“Absolutely,” Erik answered.

“And our family?”

“At least once a week for Sunday dinner, but knowing them, we’ll see them more than that,” Mira smirked and started tickling Imani. “I don’t think Lala can go more than a couple of days without spoiling his favorite girl.”

Imani’s giggles filled the room and brought a smile to Erik’s face. Mira let her go, and as Imani came down from her giggle fit, she could see that her daughter had more to say.

“What are you gonna do on our adventure when I’m at school?”

“We’ll be going to work and making friends of our own.”

Imani nodded as she took in the information and processed it. Her newly-snaggletoothed smile slowly took over her face and pushed her dimples deep into her cheeks. “When can we go?”

“We start tomorrow,” Mira said with a smile on her face, pleased with how the conversation went. She should have known Imani would be excited about their little “adventure,” but hearing the words quelled her anxieties. She had been worried about how Imani would adjust to the changes, but the little girl seemed down for the ride.

When they got back to their new home in Jabariland, Imani was amazed by the soft blanket of white that covered their corner of Wakanda. Mira wrapped her up in her furs before sliding into her own, both provided by the king, of course, and they spent some time outdoors playing in the snow. Mira knew she had a couple more hours until Erik got home, so once the cold had seeped into their bones enough, they went inside, and she started a yam stew on the stove.

When Erik walked in he was dog tired. His body had been worn down by his day of firefighter training. Despite having the heart-shaped herb in his system, he was in much worse shape than he thought after having laid dormant for two years. He wanted nothing more than to soak in the tub and climb into bed, but when he heard Imani’s voice, he forgot all about his exhaustion.

He kicked off his boots and scooped her up into his arms, leaving smooches all over her face. “How was school today?”

“Good! We started learning addition and subtraction. Mommy was just helping me with it.”

“Addition and subtraction already?” Erik asked Mira as he moseyed into the kitchen. “She’s four.”

“And a half,” Imani corrected.

“Excuse me, she’s four and a half, and they already have them doing that?”

“Mhm, and doing it well. Look at her homework,” Mira gestured to the projection coming from the holopad on the counter. Sure enough, he saw her work going all the way up to 10+10.

“Wow, good job, Cupcake!” He high-fived her and set her back down on the same stool she hopped off of moments earlier.

“So, how was work today?” Mira asked as she stirred the simmering stew, and Erik fought the urge to stare at her bubble butt in those red bicycle shorts. Her cropped adinkra symbol t-shirt dusted right above her navel, and he could see she was wearing her favorite strand of waistbeads.

He tore his eyes away from her and double-checked Imani’s homework for errors as he sighed, “I’m out of shape. They’re probably gonna put me on communications, and I can’t say I’m mad at it.”

“You were asleep for two years. I’m sure that affected your body in some way.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be faster and stronger...I need to talk to T’Challa about it,” he mumbled with a crease in his brow.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Yeah...what you cooking over there?” Erik hopped up and joined Mira by the stove, breathing in whatever delicious concoction she had whipped up.

“A nice, hearty stew. I wanted to play around with some flavors, so I hope you like it.”

“Girl, every time you experiment in the kitchen, that shit comes out tasting like heaven. I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Mira hid her face so he couldn’t see the slight deepening of her skin tone at his words, but he noticed. She quickly changed the subject to distract him, waving the wooden spoon in his face, “And don’t curse around Imani.”

Erik put his hands up in surrender as he backed away, “Yes, ma’am.”

He kissed the top of Imani’s head before going down the hall to his room to change out of his heavy clothing.

It was the first time just the three of them had sat down together for dinner in years, and Mira’s appetite almost left her entirely as her emotions started to take over. She pushed them down deep and forced some stew into her system before getting up to clean the kitchen. Erik could tell something was wrong, so when Imani went to her room to play with her dolls, he took the opportunity to investigate.

He brought the empty bowls over to the sink and scooted her out of the way.

“You cooked, so I’ll handle the dishes,” he said, and she nodded, leaning against the counter. “So, did you talk to M’Baku about your job?”

“Yeah, a few wardogs are teaching different language classes across the provinces now, and the ones here need some afterschool help. So...you’re looking at Jabariland’s newest English tutor!” she announced as she struck a pose.

“Alright, I see you, Mira. Getting your educator on,” he joked as he scrubbed the dishes, making her smile as she went to wipe down the table. He turned around to say something, but he was met with the sight of her bending over to reach across the kitchen table. He had missed seeing her from that angle and loudly cleared his throat. He turned around quicker than she did and knew he had to come up with a quick answer in three, two, one…

“What’s up? You only do that when there’s something big on your mind.”

“Do what?”

“Clear your throat like that.”

“I do not,” he said incredulously.

“Nigga, I’ve known you for almost a decade. I know when something’s on your mind, so talk.”

The way she spoke to him warmed his heart. He had missed her attitude, and it reminded him of their past. He fought a smile from creeping up his cheeks as he spoke, “T told you about the Golden Jaguar, right?”

“Yeah, he said you’re like another Black Panther.”

“I’m supposed to be, but nothing seems to be working.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was king for a day, my vision was sharper, and my hearing and sense of smell were stronger...I felt like I could run a mile a minute, but right now, I can’t even walk up ten flights of stairs-”

“That’s a lot of stairs, Erik.”

“Not for me,” he sighed.

“Maybe you need another dosage?”

“Nah, they got to me before my heart stopped, so it should still be in there.”

Mira leaned up against the back of the couch and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched his shoulders move while he scrubbed the bottom of the stew pot. It was difficult for her to imagine Erik with superhuman powers, but the idea intrigued her.

“You and T’Challa both describe it as a spiritual experience, so maybe it’s a spiritual blockage or something?”

Erik finished rinsing the pot out and placed it on the rack to drip dry before turning around and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I tried praying to Bast, but nothing happens. I don't hear her the way I did when I first took the herb.”

“You could hear her?”

He nodded, “Clear as day.”

They stood there in silence until Erik let out a sigh, “Well, I, uh, need to go soak these old bones in some Epsom salt-”

“You’re not even thirty,” Mira laughed, making him crack a tiny smile that barely reached his dimples as he lumbered down the hall to his bedroom.

--------

Over the next month, Erik and Mira settled into a nice groove. Mira handled breakfast and getting Imani to school in the mornings. She spent the rest of the day running errands, brushing up on her language skills, or pouring over her curriculum. She went to work around the time Imani got out of school, so Erik picked her up on his way home from work. Erik got placed on communications at the station, so he wasn’t as worn out by the end of the day, which left him time to get dinner ready before Mira got home from her tutoring job. The three of them would clean the kitchen after dinner, dancing around and making it fun to keep Imani engaged. Then they’d spend some time together as a family, either playing with Imani’s toys or with her curled up on the couch between them as they watched whatever movie they had agreed on for the night.

Erik liked the routine, but things had to change a little when they moved to live with the Mining tribe. Erik switched to taking Imani to school in the mornings since he was too worn out by the end of the day to pick her up. The shifts in the mines were short to prevent burnout, but even after just a couple of hours of mining Erik’s body wanted to crash. Mira, however, was loving the changes. She spent her days in Shuri’s lab learning Wakandan coding languages. They weren't too different from what she used to do for work, but she was a little rusty. She had started to miss her days as a software engineer, even though she wouldn’t trade her current life for the world.

That is until one day, while she was cooking dinner, Imani moseyed into the kitchen when it was almost done and started asking her questions that she wished she could avoid.

“Mommy, why don’t you and daddy have the same room? A’Kidi said when his parents were together, they only had one room, and that’s how it is on tv, too.”

Mira stilled, and her eyes widened. She took a second to fix her face before turning to look at her inquisitive child.

“Well, baby, some people just do things a little differently.”

“But Kofi and Sanaa said that when their parents slept in two rooms, they got dehorsed,” Imani said with the saddest look on her face.

“Divorced, sweetie,” Mira corrected her as she heard the door unlock, thankful for the distraction. “Yay, daddy’s home.”

“Daddy!” Imani ran to him and jumped in his arms, completely unaware of how sore they were. He’d never say anything because he cared more about having his baby girl close than the pain that was rippling through his upper body.

“Hey, Cupcake!” He peppered kisses all over her face like he did every day, but this time her giggles seemed a little uninspired. He pulled back to look at her questioningly as he carried her into the kitchen and set her on her favorite stool. “What’s up with you today?”

Mira shot him a look, but it was too late. He had opened the floodgates.

“Are you and mommy getting dehorsed?”

“Divorced,” Mira said with a deep sigh.

“Divorced?!” Erik panicked.

“I’m just correcting her,” she reassured him as she turned off the stove. “And the answer is no, sweetie.”

“Where’s this coming from?” His voice had gone up an octave and refused to come down.

“Kofi and Sanaa’s parents just got divorced, and it has her a little spooked.”

“They said their mama and baba slept in two rooms like you, but everyone else with two parents said theirs have one room.”

The tension that had started growing in Erik’s jaw and shoulders when he heard the word divorce slowly slipped away, and he released a deep breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. Mira’s eyes traveled over his form, watching his body language change as the conversation progressed, and her stomach lightly turned at the thought of ever divorcing him.

“Baby girl, you don’t have to worry about that, ok?” Mira said, trying her best to ignore the way Erik’s soft eyes zeroed in on her. She gave in, and they locked eyes across the kitchen island. She couldn’t hold his gaze for long, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, you’re stuck with us. Both of us,” Erik tickled her, but her giggles still weren’t as full as they could be. “Aight, what is it?”

“You and mommy always say you love me, but you don’t say it to each other.”

Their gazes met again, each one recognizing the emotion in the other’s deep brown eyes.

“Listen to me, Cupcake,” Erik turned her stool so that she was fully facing him. “I love you and your mommy more than anything else in this world.”

Mira quickly turned back around to hide the tears she was so desperately fighting and busied herself with stirring the spaghetti sauce.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, baby?” Mira’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. Erik smirked at her attempt to hide her emotions.

“Do you love daddy?”

Mira froze and closed her eyes.

“Of course I do,” she breathed out before changing the subject, “Now go wash your hands for dinner.”

Imani hopped down off the stool at her mother’s request and made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands.

“Stop staring at me,” Mira grumbled with her back still turned.

“I wasn’t even looking at you,” Erik lied, making her chuckle. “You still love me?”

Mira turned off the stovetop and turned around.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Sounds like a ‘but’ coming…”

“I do still love you, but-”

“There it is.”

“Erik!”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“I love you, but that doesn’t change anything.”

“You don’t want to divorce me?”

“No, but-”

“Then that’s all that matters. We’ll figure the rest out,” he winked as he got up to change out of his work clothes.

--------

A key part of Erik’s recovery involved him making good memories for himself. Every moment with his family formed a new good memory, and everyone could see the bliss on his face when they all came together. He smiled more, and not just with Imani and Mira, but with the Udakus as well. He and T’Challa had grown close over the last couple of months, and Shuri had started to come around, too. During their time in Jabariland, Erik and M’Baku became friends and regularly hung out on playdates with their kids. M’Baku’s two daughters, A’Sami and Ade, were a year older and younger than Imani, respectively. The girls got along great, and Erik made his first genuine friend he had in years. Mira was so proud of him.

He was building a support system, and he wanted to keep up the good momentum. So early one beautiful Saturday morning, Erik woke up with an idea, and a few hours later, found himself sweating over a grill while his family and friends congregated in his backyard. He was all smiles every time Mira looked up at him from her conversation with Okoye and Ayo. The three of them sat on blankets in the grass, watching the kids play tag in the large grassy area, and the happy couple noticed Mira’s fleeting glances towards her husband.

“How are things with Erik?” Ayo inquired.

“They’re ok. Nothing has changed, really. Except-” Mira cut herself off with a sigh.

“Except?” Okoye prodded.

She looked around and lowered her voice, “The other day, Imani was asking questions about our relationship, and we both said we love each other.”

“That is it?”

“That and I know I don’t want to divorce him,” Mira shrugged.

Ayo and Okoye smirked at each other, making Mira roll her eyes and take a sip of her cocktail.

Meanwhile, over by the grill, M’Baku and Erik were discussing last night’s televised dambe fight when Erik looked up and almost dropped the tongs in the hot coals. M’Baku turned around and saw the Udaku clan, fashionably late, as usual, joined by a gorgeous woman he had never seen before.

“Holy shit.”

“Umtshana!”

“Sorry Auntie, but...how do you know her?”

T’Challa chuckled and pulled her close to him by her waist.

“We go way back,” he smiled down at her. “Ororo, meet my cousin, Erik.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Erik. You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks, it’s a rental,” he said in awe before calling out to Mira. When she turned around, her drink fell out of her hand, and she could barely move. Was this how Imani felt when she saw T’Challa in his suit? Because she was absolutely starstruck. There was Storm, her all-time favorite superhero and literal goddess, in her backyard of all places. Okoye and Ayo jumped up on alert but calmed back down when they saw what the fuss was about.

“I am glad she is back,” Okoye smiled.

“He looks so happy.”

“Wait, she’s been here before?”

“Yes, Ororo is his ex. Go say hi; she is a lovely woman,” Ayo shooed her off.

Mira made her way up the slight incline of their backyard, and the closer she got to Ororo, the more her legs felt like jelly.

“H-hi,” she barely breathed out, making Shuri cackle as she and Ramonda passed them to go mingle.

“Hi,” Ororo chuckled. “You must be Mira. I was just telling Erik here how much I love your home.”

“Thanks, it’s a rental.” The other three laughed, confusing Mira. “So, um, can I get you anything?”

“I’ll take whatever you just dropped. Actually, let’s make it two. You need a refill,” Ororo said as she linked her arm in Mira’s and walked her towards the drinks table.

“That went well,” T’Challa commented as he popped open a beer.

“Oh, she loooooves Storm. You just made her day. Her entire life,” Erik chuckled as he flipped the chicken quarters over. “So, how’d that happen?”

“I am sorry, is she supposed to be a big deal?” M’Baku cut in, making the other two stare at him with their mouths open.

“Bruh, that’s Storm...of the X-Men...controls the weather...nothing’s ringing a bell?”

“No. Is she one of the Gifted?”

“Oh, she’s like the most gifted. This nigga bagged a goddess.”

M’Baku raised his cup to cheers T’Challa for his choice of a partner when the sound of his daughters arguing caught his attention.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he excused himself to go break up the fight before it got out of hand. His little warriors could get vicious with each other when they wanted to. Erik shook his head and smiled at the thought of Imani having a younger sibling. The thought didn’t last long before another, much more important one entered his mind.

“Hey, so, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“What is it, umzala?”

He lowered his voice, knowing his cousin could still hear him over the music.

“I’ve been having this...problem-”

“Ah. It’s ok. It happens to the best of us. Or so I’ve heard,” T’Challa winked.

“No, I wish that was the problem, but you gotta get some for that to happen, so…”

“Understood. So what is it?”

“The heart-shaped herb...are you sure it’s still in my system?”

“Shuri did bloodwork on you to check after she stabilized you. It’s still in there. Why?”

“I don’t feel it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I first took it, my senses were sharper, and I was stronger and faster...and I could hear Bast. Now all I get is dreams of the garden burning.”

“Do you have those often?”

“Almost every night now.”

“It seems like she is trying to tell you something.”

“I wish she’d just tell me instead of doing all this,” Erik grumbled.

T’Challa laughed and put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder, “That is not how goddesses work.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Try talking to her in your dreams. She is sending them for a reason.”

Erik nodded and started pulling the first batch of food off the grill.

That night, as he climbed into bed and reflected on his day, he was all smiles until he remembered what he had to do. He closed his eyes tentatively as he waited for sleep to take him.

When Erik opened his eyes, he was in the garden of the heart-shaped herb. The beautiful purple flowers glowed in the cavernous temple, but when he took a step forward, his bare feet charred the ground beneath him. He stepped back in shock, but everywhere his feet landed, he scorched the earth. He tried to stomp out the fire, but the flames grew with every movement, and pretty soon, he was surrounded by them. He watched with horror as the heart-shaped herbs were burned to a crisp, but instead of waking up at that moment the way he usually did, he walked towards the statue of Bast at the center of the temple and knelt at her feet as the flames surrounded him. He closed his eyes and prayed to her as the fire inched closer, and when it reached him, he was surprised to find himself unscathed.

“Did you really think you would die in a fire in a dream?” a strong, soothing voice bounced off the walls as the flames subsided, leaving the scorched land in its wake.

Erik’s gaze traveled up the panther statue and landed on Bast’s surprisingly soft eyes.

“Is this real?”

Bast rolled her eyes and stepped down from the platform she had been standing on and walked closer to Erik so that he could feel her breath on his skin.

“What do you think?”

Erik fell to his knees and stared up at her, in awe of the actual deity before him.

“My goddess, I-”

“Save it,” she grumbled, making Erik’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I allowed you to become the Golden Jaguar, and you spat in my face in return. Your child is the only reason I allow you to still walk the earthly plane.”

Erik hung his head in shame, and she growled down at him, “Look at me when I am speaking to you.”

His eyes darted back upwards, and she could see the tears he was willing not to fall.

“Now, I understand why you did what you did, but that does not make up for the fact that you forced my priestesses to burn their life’s work. I gave your people the heart-shaped herb once, and now I have to do it again...because of you. And now you come to me crying about your lack of powers? Tell me, why do you deserve them?” She sat down, and her tail twitched left and right as she awaited his answer. Just as she was beginning to grow impatient, he spoke up.

“I don’t,” his voice cracked.

“That’s right, you don’t,” said, making Erik nod his head as he took in her words. They stung, but he knew they weren’t without truth. “But...I have been watching you over the last few months, and I will make you a deal.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“I know you will.”

--------

When Erik first started working at the Border tribe, he was on patrol duty. They had placed him at the Nigandan border, but he was quickly reassigned when he confided in T’Challa that it gave him flashbacks to his time in the military. Instead, he was placed on air traffic control. Erik took to it like white on rice and enjoyed messing with T’Challa on his frequent departures and arrivals.

One day, right when Erik started his lunch break, he looked up to see his wife and child heading in his direction. He lit up at seeing their beautiful faces, but his smile promptly fell flat when he noticed their expressions.

“Well, hello, ladies,” Omari, Erik’s boss, greeted Mira and Imani as they entered the building. His eyes lingered on Mira a little too long, and Erik’s anger flared in his chest.

“Hey baby,” Erik stood and kissed Mira on the cheek before pulling Imani into his arms. Mira was stunned by his actions, but she didn’t want to say anything in front of Erik’s coworkers.

“H-hey,” she stuttered back.

“It’s just noon. Why isn’t she in school?”

Mira jerked her head towards a less crowded area of the break room, and they relocated away from prying ears. Imani got settled on Erik’s lap and tried to avoid her mother’s gaze.

“Tell daddy what happened,” Mira said softly.

Imani nodded and looked up at Erik with sad puppy dog eyes and a quivering lip.

“I got in a fight at school.”

“A fight?” Erik said a little too loudly, making Omari and his other coworkers look up at the family. He lowered his voice and continued, “What happened Cupcake?”

“Danika said that her mommy said that you’re evil and she’s going to a new school to get away from me because you killed her auntie. Then she pushed me, and I pushed her back, then Mr. Omi came over and stopped it.”

Erik and Mira were both too shocked by the first part of her statement to focus on some rugrat putting her hands on their baby girl. They had hoped to avoid having to talk about Killmonger until she was much older. They knew they wouldn’t be able to hide it from her, especially if they stayed in Wakanda. They were shaken from their stupors by Imani asking the worst question possible.

“Why does she think you’re evil, daddy?” The innocent look on Imani’s face broke her parents, and Mira cleared her throat to change the subject but couldn’t get the words to come out.

Erik wasn’t any better. He didn’t think he’d have to lay his sins out for his daughter so soon. He knew if the kids at school were talking about him, then they had to tell her. She’d probably learn about it in school one day, anyway. Erik tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. He looked to Mira for help and cleared his throat, making her look up at him.

“Um, baby girl, it’s time for daddy to get back to work-”

“Hold up, let me talk to Omari real quick.”

Mira nodded while Erik moved Imani from his lap and went to see if his boss would let him off early for the day. Imani wandered over to her mom, and Mira could see the furrow in her brow as she thought about the conversation or lack thereof. Erik came jogging back and ushered the two of them out of the building.

The ride home was eerily silent. Mira kept trying to catch Erik’s eye, but he seemed to be in a daze. He was mentally preparing for the conversation ahead. He knew they wouldn’t be able to hide much from their inquisitive child since vague answers just made her dig deeper. He had to figure out how to sanitize the story to make it appropriate for children. And not just any children, his child. The child of a man who used to be a monster. He knew he’d have to look her in the eye and tell her what he did one day, but so soon? He wasn’t ready; neither of them was.

Not a word was spoken until they entered the house.

“Imani, go play in your room for a little while. We’ll be in there in a little bit.”

“Ok, mommy,” she said softly, already making her way down the hall.

Her parents watched her every step, and the second she cracked the door behind her, their eyes met in a panic.

“What do we say to her? She’s four!”

“You don’t have to say anything...I do,” Erik sighed.

Mira nodded in understanding. This was something he needed to do on his own.

“I need to be there, though. For both of you,” Mira said, grabbing his hand in hers. Erik pulled her hand to his lips for a kiss and looked down into her big brown eyes. She could see the fear and sadness in his, so she kissed his cheek in return. “You can do this. I know you can.”

“What do I even say?”

“I don’t know,” Mira shrugged her shoulders and saw Imani peek out of her room, “but you’re gonna have to improv. She’s getting impatient.”

Erik turned around and saw Imani’s head duck back into her room with a quickness. He took in a deep breath that reached all the way down into his abdomen, just like Naomi had taught him, and released it through his mouth. He nodded to Mira, and they made their way down the hallway to Imani’s room. That walk had never felt so tedious.

“Hey, Cupcake.”

“What’s wrong?”

Erik sat on Imani’s bed and pulled her into his lap while Mira sat crosslegged on the floor in front of them.

“I need to tell you a story.”

“Ok…” she said, already nervously playing with her dad’s bracelet as he spoke.

“It’s a sad one, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Once, there was this little boy named N’Jadaka. He and his mommy and daddy lived in this far off place called Oakland-”

“Oakland. Where’s that?”

“It’s in California, sweetie. Let daddy finish.”

Imani nodded and went back to playing with his beads.

“And they were happy as they could be. Until one day, bad people came and took his mommy away. Then another bad person took his daddy away. He had a hard life growing up, but one day he met an angel, and that angel gifted him with a tiny angel...but the whole time, he kept plotting about getting revenge. He did a lot of bad things and hurt a lot of people out of anger, but all he wanted was to get to the man who killed his baba. The mean man died one day, so N’Jadaka hurt his son instead. His son fought N’Jadaka and won, but he understood why he was angry and took him in. So now, N’Jadaka and his angels have a new family.”

“Ok...what does that have to do with you?”

Erik looked down at Mira and turned Imani around in his lap so she could face him.

“I’m N’Jadaka…”

Imani’s eyebrows scrunched together as she looked away and tried to understand what he had just told her. “So you hurt people because someone hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“But Danika said you killed her auntie…”

Erik shifted uncomfortably.

“Sometimes people do really bad things, but that doesn’t make them bad people,” Mira chimed in from the floor.

“Cupcake,” he said, softly turning her face towards him. “I need you to know I’ve changed. T’Challa believed in me, and-”

“What does Lala have to do with it?”

“He helped me get better.”

“So...you tried to hurt him?” They could see the wheels turning in her head, and she started squirming.

“Yes.”

“Like you hurt Danika’s auntie?” she looked up at her daddy with tears in her eyes as she slid off his lap and into Mira’s.

“Cupcake-” Erik reached for her, and she shrunk away, breaking his heart into a million pieces. Next Chapter

Taglist: @ladymac82 , @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9,

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #black!oc #erik killmonger x oc #njadaka #Erik Stevens #killmonger #all for us

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jolinarjackson · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! Do you have any irondad fic recs? I just started reading Peter and Tony fics again and I would love any recs you have!

Hello!

Yes, I do! :D It's by no means complete because I am still busy compiling, but I have quite a few already.

For all the below stories, please heed the tags and warnings on AO3. And of course, feel also free to check out my stories. :)

My AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JolinarJackson/works

The below fics are not compiled in any particular order.

If I Die Young by MusicalLuna

Summary: Tony and Steve are trying to keep their little boy (who's not so little anymore) out of the superhero business for as long as possible, but when a kid's as stubborn as Peter is, they can't always stop him.

And sometimes things go wrong. Really, really wrong.

Categories: Superfamily, Not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: This is a wonderful whump story that I go back to again and again.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423790

-----

Lightning in a Bottle by Gruoch

Summary: Peter takes the tablet and looks down at the screen, where a picture of Spider-Man intimately entangled in a passionate embrace with Johnny Storm is displayed across the majority of the Daily Bugle’s home page. TORCH CAUGHT IN SPIDER-MAN’S WEB, the headline reads, bracketed by spider and flame emojis. Peter looks back up at Tony, who is still staring at him completely stone-faced.

Tony reaches across the island and taps the screen. “So. What do you have to say about that?”

“Well. For one, I’m a little disappointed with the headline,” Peter offers.

Tony lets his chin drop against his chest, momentarily defeated, before taking a deep breath and once more skewering Peter with a hard look. “You could have at least given me some warning that the two of you are...I mean, I had my suspicions, but—”

“You’re misconstruing the situation. Spider-Man and the Torch are dating,” Peter explains. “Johnny and I are just friends.”

“Boy, you’re really leaning hard into this whole alter ego thing, aren’t you?” Tony deadpans. “How’s that working out for you?”

Categories: Irondad, SpideyTorch

Comment: I love stories taking advantage of the havoc that secret superhero identities can wreak on romantic relationships. The best about this particular story is the witty writing, which makes Peter being a chaotic mess in this even better.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23413219

-----

The doubts that complicate by @frostysunflowers

Summary: "But he’s smart!" May had blurted, looking up at the teacher with misplaced anger. "I don’t...how does this make sense?"

She was worried, unaware, unprepared, not like Peter who had known for a while that some things were trickier for him than other kids. All the rules hidden in cheerful little rhymes and singing songs about which letters get along and those who don’t play nice; all the robotic reciting of the alphabet nearly every day: none of it had ever truly helped Peter understand how it all worked.

A brand new door opened in his life that day. On the front of it, the word ‘DYSLEXIC’ was printed in bold, the certainty of what it meant holding the letters permanently in place.

Nobody ever said being smart was easy.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This is a wonderful read. @frostysunflowers manages to describe dyslexia in a way that makes the struggle understandable. The relationship between Tony and Peter is heart-warming. This is a great read if you're in the mood for something that is not too long and still want a good dosage of H/C.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989531

-----

Accepting the Tides by Emma_Anacortes

Summary: Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Categories: Irondad, Steve & Peter

Comment: This story is intense, no doubt about it. Please heed all the warnings and tags carefully. However, if you give it a try, it's so worth it. This story presents a different backstory to the relationship of Peter and his parents (especially his father) while exploring Peter and Tony forging a father/son-bond in the wake of May's death. I have to say that the the relationship between Peter and Steve in this story is just as prominent and amazingly written. I loved every second of it.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885844/chapters/26843274

-----

with arms wide open by @parkrstark

Summary: Tony and Pepper are expecting a baby and Peter may be the one most excited...just maybe…

Categories: Irondad, Pepperony

Comment: This is undeniably cute and heart-warming: Tony and Pepper get pregnant and Peter is right there with them, freaking out. Peter spends this story preparing to become a big brother while still being unsure about whether this is the role he is going to fulfill in the baby's life. This stoy focsses on the found family that is Tony, Pepper and Peter, but there are wonderful interactions with May, Rhodey and Happy as well.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540409

-----

the stars the moon they have all been blown out (you left me in the dark) by @madasthesea

Summary: It starts off with his vision fading in and out.

What kind of demon drug can make someone go blind by inhaling a single lungful? Whatever it is, Tony doubts it’s reversible. And while Peter’s no idiot, he can be idiotically optimistic. He's determined to fix what appears to be unfixable.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is experienced entirely from Tony's point of view, which make the effects of the drug and his reaction to it all the more poignant. Tony's relationship to Peter is especially highlighted in this story. You can only imagine the worry and pain Peter geos through unil the very end of the story and the pay-off is worth it. I want to highlight the way that Tony's experiecne of the effects of the drug are described here, because I thought that was superb writing and put the reader righ in Tony's shoes.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795141/chapters/36757500

-----

turn back the clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by @madasthesea

Summary: Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through.

And if that isn't bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is just SO GOOD. Not only is Peter experiencing the same day over and over again and his identity is revealed, but the way it happens also gets more and more taxing and gruesome. This story has emotional highpoints that are written fantastically and the Irondad in this is just heart-warming.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18023177/chapters/42585071

-----

How The Mighty Fall by Meep_Morp

Summary: Since his duel against Toomes on Coney Island, Peter's life has settled down considerably. May knows about his double life and accepts it (mostly). Tony has welcomed him back, and given him more independence as New York's Spider-Man.

One night during patrol he crosses paths with Connor, a teenager who has Extremis in his blood and answers to the wrong kind of people. Though Tony is quick to distrust him, Peter finds himself reluctant to follow his mentor's lead, and a bond develops between the two boys. Their relationship is further complicated when Connor's former master, Negative, makes it a personal mission to destroy them both in his quest for power.

Taking down a superpowered psychopath? Tough, but Peter isn't going to back down.

Stopping Tony from blasting his first potential boyfriend into space? He might need a miracle for that.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is so intricately plotted and just a joy to read. The characters are written to perfection and this includes an absolutely fantastic and fleshed-out OC who, as a reader, you come to care about easily and quickly. Much more subtle is the relationship between Peter and Tony in this fic but every single scene is on-point. I have read and re-read this story several times and it is hard to put aside once you start.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084407/chapters/42745826

-----

Project Pride by TheSleepingOwl

Summary: In hindsight, it should have been obvious. The signs were all there, unwittingly scattered by Peter like breadcrumbs for Tony to follow—the way he would fall into uncomfortable silence when the topic of dating came up, or become flustered whenever Tony teased him about the mysterious Michelle-Call-Me-MJ character Peter was constantly gushing about, or deflect Tony’s mostly-joking inquiries into whether or not they needed to be having The Talk with a hurricane of splutters and blushes.

And even without the signs, Peter was still his kid. Tony was just supposed to know these things.

So when FRIDAY pulled up Peter’s search history—‘how can i make myself not like boys,’ ‘can you force yourself to be attracted to girls,’ ‘how to stop your friends from knowing youre gay,’ and, most devastating, ‘how can i keep my parents from finding out im gay’—Tony wasn’t surprised so much as deeply, unquantifiably ashamed. Because he should have known.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is an incredibly written POV of Tony coming to terms with Peter's sexuality. It's achingly realistic in the way Tony struggles to connect to Peter, knowing that he's gay. Additionally, this story has a hefty doese of Hurt/Comfort thrown in that hurts when reading it. This is a gem.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135138/chapters/52834021

-----

Birds Eating Other Birds by aloneintherain

Summary: Peter wishes he hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning. Then, maybe, he wouldn’t be reduced to this - limp-crawling through the rabbit burrows that is Oscorp Tower, a monster of a man on his heels, bloody and bruised and choking on a panic attack.

Categories: Irondad, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: I love aloneintherain's stories. I read them when I first got into Avengers fanfic and the way they write dynamics is great. This one is intense and the way it's written sucks you right into it. Norman Osborn is so evil and creepy in this one. Part one is mainly hurt, but stick around for the comfort in part 2!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626433

----- And here are some Avengers team dynamic fics as well -----

It Was Probably The Pudding by Serendipity_Cometh

Summary: Given that over the course of the past eleven months Peter Parker hasn't contracted so much as a head-cold, the teenager thought it safe to assume that the whole 'irradiated spider bite' gig had equipped him with an immune system of steel that rivalled Captain America's.

So when he wakes up one night in the midst of the worst asthma attack he's suffered in almost eight years, neither he nor the rest of the team can think of a logical explanation.

And everything sort of goes downhill from there.

Categories: Team, Stony, Clint/Phil, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: When I started out reading Avengers fanfictions, I stumbled across this one and go back to it on a regular basis. Lots of whump and great team dynamics.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953538/chapters/1865305

-----

In the Home by aloneintherain

Summary: The Avengers have been infected, turned violent and aggressive against their will. And Peter, the only one unaffected, is trapped inside the Tower with six feral teammates.

“Natasha,” Peter says cautiously, “what happened here? Steve attacked me, and if there was ever a sign that something was wrong, it’s having the embodiment of Truth, Justice, and the American Way throw you across the room -”

Natasha comes closer, her stride controlled. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary, but there’s something in her face, in her eyes -

Natasha lunges across the space, and slams into Peter, hard.

Categories: Team, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: One of my very early reads when I started out in the Avengers fandom. Excellent whump, hurt/comfort and team dynamics.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388563/chapters/12446069

-----

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain

Summary: Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Categories: Team, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: There are so many "Peter trapped under a building"-stories out there but this is the one I read first and it stuck with me. Loved the team dynamic in this.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4232937

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starfirette · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Six: Backtalk Is For Losers

Alstroemeria, Chapter Six: A bit of backtalk gets you into trouble with the infamous Lance Corporal Ackerman.

grand masterlist | previous chapter | more levi | join the taglist: inbox | next chapter coming soon!!!!!

a/n: Levi is heeerrreeeeeeeeeee.

There was a pain that you could sense even before you open your mind to the subject of complete consciousness. It trickled down into your right big toe.

You slowly sat up after you opened your eyes to a row of empty cots made with plain white linen and one flat pillow. You rubbed your eyes, looking around to the majority of the room that was, to say the least, depressing. All along the walls were shelves and cupboards made from dark, grainy wood, set with vials and mason jars of who knows what.

You reached for the little nightstand on the side of your bed, set with only a tarnished bell that you pressed with your palm.

Moments later, you could hear shuffling and footsteps coming down the hall. The door opened open, and to your dismay, an unfamiliar woman entered with a glass and a pitcher of something that sloshed with ice.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

You watched with mild shock as she poured you a glass of ice water and held it out. Your dry tongue yearned for the glass, and you took it and gulped it down in a moment.

The woman gave you a refill.

“Who are you?” you asked after one more drink.

“I am the on call surgeon for the survey corps,” she explained, setting the pitcher down on the racketing side table.

“I’m at the survey corps?” you asked. Your brows contorted with confusion. “How long have I been...?”

“About four days,” she explained. “You were badly hurt during the battle of Trost and you lost a lot of blood. Your injury required twenty two stitches, all on your lower back, where you had a five centimeter deep gash after being dropped on a rock fragment.”

You were dumbfounded. “Four days?” Four days for such a minor injury?

“You must have needed the rest,” the surgeon said with a simple shrug. “Your friends attested your long day of hard work.”

“Why am I with the survey corps?” you asked. “Where are the others?” You’d been half tempted to ask for your friends, but you didn’t really have friends. You had people you’d trained and bunked and fought with, but not ‘friends.’

“You are one of the few cadets that seemed to be close to the asset. Captain Ackerman has been waiting for you to wake up so that you can be questioned.”

Questioned? Captain Ackerman? Asset? Though none of that answered your question about the other cadets, it explained why you were at the survey corps hospital.

The surgeon explained Eren as the asset, and Captain Ackerman is the man in charge of anything related to Eren. Captain Ackerman wanted to know about Eren, from every point of view possible.

You drank the rest of your water before crawling out of bed. You could feel the stiff sutures rub against the fabric of your shirt. The ache of the injury stiffened your movements as you paced back and forth across the length of the room like the doctor had asked of you.

She made a note on the parchment pad she held before setting it down and making way to the cabinets that lined the wall. It was filled with syringes made of brass and had foggy glass jars filled with powders and pills capsules.

She leveled four scoops of a thin, white powder and placed it in a small drawstring bag. “That’ll be for the pain,” she says. “Mix one spoonful it into water or tea before bed and again as needed. The survey corps only allows one dosage of painkillers per injury, so you will not be getting any refills. Try not to get addicted.”

You were tempted to toss the bag back towards her. “Addicted?” you said with wary.

The surgeon shrugged.

“What’s your name again?” you asked. She lifted her brows.

“I am Kathie Perrine, head of surgery and chief assistant to Hanji Zoe, the lead on science and medical research here at the corps.” Kathie reached for the glass frames that were tucked into her shirt pocket, unfolding the arms then placing them at the bridge of her nose. “The captain will give you more information on your room detail and other housing matters. You and the other cadets will be given the formal opportunity to choose your branch of desired service after Eren Jaegar’s trial. Captain Ackerman’s office is up the staircase outside the room, at the right hand wall. It’s the very first entrance.”

You clutched your bag of medicine tightly, nodding and trying to soak up all the information you could. It felt like Kathie was trying to get you out of the surgery as soon as possible, even though you didn’t feel ready yet.

“What if I get lost?” you asked before you budged.

Kathie looked lost herself. “Ask for directions. You’ll get it.”

As you walked out the double surgery doors, you felt like Kathie wasn’t too concerned with you getting to the apparently important Captain Ackerman. Maybe you’d get lost in the giant place and die. Maybe you’re stitches would rip open and you’d bleed to death on the stairs.

It felt like it would happen as you climbed the steps, wincing as the tightly closed wound on your back stretched with every movement. It was worse than the sort of stretch you got when your knee was scabbed. It was real.

This was all real. You were at the cadet corps in God knows where, about to meet God knows who.

But you had been assured by Miss Perrine that Captain Ackerman would set you straight with your living details and your new assignments. Then you could get the hell out of here.

The survey corps was not a place you wanted to be.

With every step up the winding staircase, you could remember the agonizing noises of wailing and screaming on the roads of Trost.

You looked at your hands; you flex and clench them, looking at every detail of your skin. You had been scrubbed down. No dirt and blood was jammed underneath your fingernails.

What was that boy’s name?

You suddenly remembered him as you took a stark right, looking at the oak door to Captain Ackerman’s office.

You hesitantly rapped your knuckles against the door.

“Enter,” a stern sounding voice sounded from beyond the oak.

You turned the brass handle and opened the door to a neatly put together office. It was a normal looking one, with a large wooden desk, stacks of yellowish parchment and leather bound books. You were completely stunned to see who must be the one and only Captain Ackerman.

He wasn’t like you’d imagined at all. For one, he wasn’t old. At least, he didn’t look like it. He was older than you, by maybe ten or so years. His hair wasn’t white or gray, but rather a deep shade of black that had undertones of violet in the candlelight.

He was sorting papers, not bothering to look up as he spoke. “Name?”

“Y/n L/n,” you stammered, offering a weak salute. You felt strangely embarrassed by the greeting, wondering if he’d look at you and wonder why on earth you were doing such a pose. It didn’t feel like he was a captain. He felt like something much more intimidating.

His eyes finally met yours, and you felt like you’d been slapped in the face. Sharp and steely as they were, they were darkly beautiful. He had a stern looking expression, one to match his voice, and the finest bone structure you think you’d ever seen.

He did not look like he belonged in the survey corps. He looked like he belonged in the royal courts at the interior, maybe even on the arm of a princess.

“Yes, miss L/n,” he murmured to himself as he searched through his papers. “Have a seat.”

You strained to do so without meeting his gaze as he looked back and forth between files.

“I am Levi Ackerman, a squad leader here. For the time being I’m also taking the lead on the Eren Jaeger case. I’ll be asking some questions about Jaeger and I am expecting your full, honest answers. Now, until you’ve chosen a corps to serve in you’re going to be residing here and answering directly to me.”

He looked at you for confirmation when you did not answer, a thin eyebrow raised high.

You stammered, “Oh, yes sir,” as a pathetic reply.

The captain tutted under his breath. “Room assignment is seven in the girls hallway,” he said then, going through his papers. He didn’t sound like he really wanted to be going over this all with you. “Sauna and showers every morning at seven sharp for the females. Breakfast seven thirty. Lunch is optional, all noon. Dinner eight in the evening. Questions?”

“No, sir,” you quickly said. You could remember all of that. Maybe.

“Let’s talk about Jaeger.”

It was an abrupt topic change, one that you didn’t quite welcome. To be honest, you didn’t want to be here at all. You were in the total dark about everything. Where was Krista and Ymir?

And Armin, and Mikasa, and even Eren?

Reiner?

The last image that you could muster into your brain was clutching Eren’s limp body in your arms. You remember trying to pull him free of the titan corpse and then nothing else.

“Last time you and I met, you had been recently injured,” Levi noted. “How is that?”

You blinked. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, “but I don’t actually remember meeting you.”

The captain impatiently tapped his pencil “The injury?” he repeated.

You felt your face flush with warmth and embarrassment. “Better,” you said quietly, using a hand to feel the medicine in your pocket.

“And was that induced by Jaeger?”

“I don’t think so. No.”

“Do you think, or do you know?” the captain asked. His eyes were a stronghold, trying to force their way into your nerves.

“I-No.”

“So, you know, then?” the captain asked. He leaned back in his chair, using his forefingers to massage his temples. “It’s a simple question.”

“No.” You spoke firmly. “Eren did not hurt me.”

“You do not remember meeting me,” the captain drawled, “but you remember clearly that Eren did not hurt you?”

Floundering was the only way to describe how you were currently feeling. The captain seemed to know every way to make you feel flustered and feverish.

“This feels oddly like an interrogation, captain,” you said before you could stop yourself.

His eyebrows lifted in shock. You could see the age in the crinkles around his eyes as he finally let his face relax. Late twenties, maybe even around thirty, you estimated.

“Let me correct you, cadet,” the captain said slowly. “This is. Did you know Eren Jaegar was a titan?”

Your eyes would have rolled out of your head if you could widen them any wider. “Absolutely not,” you snapped. “I wasn’t under the impression that any human could be a titan.”

“If I were you I would very quickly adjust that attitude, Y/n,” the captain said smoothly. It shook something in your belly when he said it. His dark eyes were unwavering and they peered into you with no remorse.

“I did not know. I don’t know Eren, really. He and I were never friends.”

“Were you close with the Armin boy?” Levi asked as he looked at his pages, making some notes in the margin.

“No.”

“And the girl?”

“Your relative?” you asked for confirmation.

The captain looked surprised again. “Do not begin to assume anything about me, L/n,” the captain said carefully. “Though she and I share the surname, I do not know her. That wasn’t the question. Were you, or are you, close to Mikasa Ackerman?”

“...No,” you said again, feeling the strain of frustration tugging at your jaw, keeping your mouth tense.

“Were you ever threatened by Jaeger?” the captain proceeded to ask.

“Never. I hardly interacted with him.” You crossed your ankles.

“Then why help him?” the captain asked.

You paused. You looked at the captain with a blank expression.

He lifted his eyebrows again, silently repeating the question with what you would have imagined to be a tone of annoyance. “Is there a problem?”

“Is there some reason I shouldn’t have helped him? Does that make me a bad person? An accomplice? I would have liked some support, had it been me. I can’t understand why you don’t understand about-”

“About?” the captain challenged. He wore a strange sort of smirk, as if he were impressed by your impending outburst; it was like he’d been waiting for it all this time.

“About human decency,” you concluded.

The captain had a mask of amusement on his face as he folded his hands overtop his desk. “You’re a stark change from the usual cadets around here.”

“How so?” you asked, feeling your face sizzling with impending embarrassment.

“You’re a much bigger dumbass than most of them. In the two interactions we’ve had together, you’ve proven yourself to be quite stubborn. You refuse to die, and yet you also refuse to comply with human nature. The nature in this compound is that I am your captain and I ask you what I ask you not to humiliate you, but to form a solid basis of what I’m dealing with. Eren Jaeger is not a usual situation. I will not have usual reactions. Despite that, I expect you to behave like a cadet should behave. You’ve made your impression. Those are all the questions I have for you today. Report to your quarters, change into uniform, then report here immediately.”

“For what?” you asked, your voice squeaky with humiliation.

“For janitorial service. Problem with that?”

His challenging tone was just daring you to talk back one more time.

You ground your teeth in a hard clench. “No, sir.”

“You are dismissed,” the captain said with a small wave of his pale, slender hand. You could see the scars and callouses that littered the top of his palm even from your seat across the desk.

Standing to your feet, with your fists clenched at your side, you offered Levi a stiff salute; you didn’t mean it, without a doubt, but you didn’t want to risk getting in even more trouble.

“Dismissed, cadet,” the captain said again. “I expect a swift return.”

You have never felt so completely humiliated. The captain had practically gutted you in there. Your legs trembled by the knees as you stormed out of the office.

You paused in your steps, groaning, then you turned around again, making your way back inside.

“Yes, cadet?” the captain asked, sounding exhausted as he immediately pinched his nose in frustration.

“I forgot my room assignment,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his gaze.

“Room seven, girls’ hallway,” he said. “I can write it down if you’d like.”

“No thank you. Sir,” you added before he could bitch again.

It was a slap in the goddamn face to have to march up to your room while knowing you’d have to march back down and face your first ever corporal punishment.

The girls’ hallway was marked by a little plaque on the door. All the doors were made of the same kind of heavy oak with grains and lines from the aged tree it’d been born. No numbers were put up. You had to count a few times, unsure of how the rooms were meant to be numbered. Down one wall, then back the other? Or alternating?

You hesitated to enter the room you thought would be yours. You knocked a couple of times, while pressing your ear up against the door to hear any answers inside.

The room, though muffled, was undeniably silent. You opened up the sticky door, the door swinging into the room.

It was a plain room, but no doubt better than the group bunks you had at the training academy. One unmade cot was pressed up in the left corner. Your familiar trunk of belongings sat on the bare mattress, alongside a set of sheets, a woven quilt, and two dismal pillows.

There were no windows; rather the light source for the rest of your days here would be the oil lamp or the three large candles sitting on the pathetic looking desk pushed up against the north facing wall.

Wow. You sure got lucky with room number seven, you bitterly think to yourself as you slam the door shut behind you. Stalking forward you could feel the slight pain in your back as you threw open your trunk. You felt relieved to see your belongings packed in it. It must have been brought after the attack.

As you sifted through, looking for your uniform, you felt rage boiling in the pit of your stomach. The prickly, uptight Captain Ackerman had an easy time brushing off your attitude and asking you insensitive questions about Eren. Who knows what Eren’s feeling right now? His experience compared to the others that suffered in Trost is entirely different, but likely just as traumatic. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling.

Really, you couldn’t imagine how anyone was feeling.

You thought back to Fable, her baby Bree, and that boy who was just around your age, whose name you’d forgotten. You felt nauseous as you imagine the fate that could have befallen them after they left with your horse.

You didn’t want to know the details. You’d rather go on the rest of your life assuming they made it to their little farm in Fairkelt by Stohess.

Just as you didn’t want to know the details of their adventure, you certainly didn’t want to know what happened in Trost after your injury. You feel lucky for not remembering the injury itself, or your apparent first meeting with Captain Levi Asshole-man.

Four days has been long enough to clear out the titans and assemble the dead.

You took your time buttoning up your shirt as you tried to keep the Captain waiting for as long as possible (without getting in even more trouble). Maybe if you just barricade your door, he’ll give up and let you go on your way.

Doubtful.

You shoved your feet into your knee high boots, strapping up the buckles as you eyed your trunk you’d moved to the floor. It was a little bit pitiful to look at the small room and realize you didn’t even have enough belongings to fill it up. There wasn’t even enough clothing to constitute owning a wardrobe.

You kicked the trunk out of the way as you stalked out of the seventh bedroom in the girls’ hallway.

Your back did feel stiff and achy as you sped walked to Captain Ackerman’s office.

As you walked down the stairs, you could see him waiting outside of his office door, leaning against the door frame with a bucket of water and a lame mop.

“Reporting for janitorial duty, sir,” you scowled as you salute him. The captain simply gestured for you to take the mop. “In the future,” he said as you took the handle, “you will be expected to know where the cleaning supplies are, as you will have to get them yourself,”

“Thank you so much, sir,” you scowled again.

“Cadet, your attitude is the reason you’re doing this,” the captain said carefully. “I would suggest keeping that attitude of yours in check for the duration of your stay.”

If you had the balls to do it, you would have made a retort featuring something about his height. It was surprising how short he was. You couldn’t tell by him simply sitting, but on his feet, he didn’t even exceed 5-foot-four.

You chose to keep your mouth shut the way he’d so lovingly suggested.

You dunked the mop head into the water before slapping it against the stone floor. “Happy mopping, cadet. I’ll make sure to leave my office door open if you have any questions. I except the hallway and the staircase to be done after thirty minutes. Then we can review your next cleaning assignment.”

Thirty minutes, you think angrily as the captain turns his back on you to retreat into his stupid office. Just how long would this little punishment last?

You got to work mopping the hallway outside of the captain’s door; his office seemed to be the only one down here, so you didn’t have any luck of running into your acquaintances. While you wanted to ask him about any of them, you had a small feeling he’d be of little help.

You supposed that you couldn’t blame him. If he truly were managing Eren Jaeger’s case, he must have an enormous amount of work he needs to get done. Your testimony, though filled with ‘attitude’ may have helped him some, and he needs to properly log it. How stressful.

Such a job would produce wrinkles in the forehead.

Looking at him as he works, you can see that while he may be older than you, his face is rather smooth. You’d peg him to be in his later twenties.

You were stunned to look from his office to the corridor, and seeing a young woman approaching. You blushed. You didn’t want her to think strangely of you for continually glancing into the Captain’s office.

“Good afternoon, miss cadet,” the woman said kindly. You lamely gathered a salute as you got caught in the warmth of her eyes. She was incredibly beautiful. She had soft hazel eyes, and wavy reddish brown hair that tickled her chin and neck.

“Is Captain Levi available?”

Levi must have heard the woman’s voice. He quickly stood to his feet, pushing down his stack of papers and striding out of the office.

“Petra,” he said smoothly. His voice was noticeably kinder than it had been when he had spoken to you.

“Hello Captain,” Petra replied with a voice so genuinely sweet. “I see you’ve been working hard. Already giving poor cadets janitorial punishments? She’ll never want to join the survey corps now,” she added, throwing a small wink your way.

You would have laughed if you weren’t so flabbergasted by the captain’s change in demeanor.

So he could be nice! You supposed any one would be nice to a young woman as pretty and charming as Petra. So, that’s not you. Not that it matters.

You don’t need the captain to like you, mostly because you have no intention of staying in the survey corps longer than you have to. You’d certainly had enough of death and destruction to last you an entire lifetime. The Garrison unit just made sense.

It’s not as if you had any other options.

You did your best not to eavesdrop on the conversation Levi and Petra were having. You mostly wanted to listen for details on any of your friends, maybe even Reiner or Krista. Any familiar mention of the two would make you feel somewhat better for being trapped here.

“L/n,” the Captain called.

You jolt with a start. You cast your eyes into the office, the sole point you’d been trying to avoid until now. “Yes, captain?” you asked meekly. His gaze combined with Petra’s made you feel strangely sick.

“Finish up with the staircase,” he said dismissively, immediately turning his attention back to Petra, as if he hadn’t just spoken to you. “Then you’ll be escorted to the mess hall for dinner.”

You blinked back tears of absolute ignominy.

Petra noticed how you’d been silently struck by the captain’s curt words, and she tugged his sleeve, whispering something to him with her eyebrows sternly furrowed.

You weren’t sure that you could bare the weight of their eyes any longer, or even the potentially cruel response from the captain.

You strained to pick up your bucket. You knelt down, wincing at the strain it put on your stiches. The flat soles of your boots left imprints on the wet floor as you slowly walked up the stairs of the spiral case.

Water sloshed over the bucket as you struggled to place it somewhere constructive. Rather than listen to Petra and the Captain, you tried to decide how the hell you would go about mopping stairs. It was very compelling as you tried to block out the small laughs that Petra let out downstairs as they discussed the “shitty new batch of cadets.”

You felt slightly unnerved at the thought of the captain shit talking you to Petra. What did you ever do to that man?

You’d done nothing. You couldn’t be expected to not get angry when the captain likes a dickhead. You dunked your mop into the bucket before you sloshed the head of it around on the first step.

As long as Captain Ackerman is apart of this corps, you’d never, ever join. You would rather slap the man in the face then tell him to shoved. Straight up a titan’s-

A slight scream left your mouth as you felt the heel of your boot pushed the bucket of water back. It clunked against the steps, spilling the water across the way and gathering beneath your boots. The flat soles did nothing to save you as you felt the entire world tipping backwards.

You tumbled down the hard set of stairs, shrieking so abruptly at the pain that you bit your tongue hard.

It was a hard thump at the bottom of the steps, your head cracking against the stone floor.

“Oh, m--!”

You could hardly hear the rushing footsteps to your side as Petra’s light feet slapped against the floor.

Her light head of hair appeared over you, her eyes wide as she knelt down to your side.

“Are you alright?”

No. You were not alright. You were laying in a pool of your own blood because your stitches pulled open. You opened your mouth to reply, to maybe even ask for help, but the blood from your tongue seeped out in a mixture of your saliva.

This seemed to truly frighten Petra as she called for the captain.

“No,” you begged her, wiping your mouth as you tried to sit up. “Not the captain.”

“Christ, L/n,” the captain swore as he exited the office. “I only asked you to mop. Is that something to throw yourself down the stairs over?”

He came to your side, just by Petra. He rolled the white sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows as he examined your wounds. “Ah, shit,” he muttered.

You flinched under the captain’s touch. His arm swept underneath your back, pulling you to sit upright. His hand tugged at the blood soaked hem of your shirt. His palm felt warm against your wound. “Shit,” he said again. “Okay, you’re going to the surgery.”

“No,” you said quickly. You used the back of your mouth to wipe the spit from your mouth. “I just came out of there.”

Petra looked horrified at your words. She whirled her head towards the captain. “She just came out of the medical unit,” she gasped. “And you already had her go onto janitorial service?”

Levi looked flabbergasted. He didn’t bother to say anything. Surprisingly, he just kept his mouth shut as he swept his other arm beneath your legs. You tried to push out of his arms as he rose to his feet.

You were slightly shocked at how strong he was, especially considering his height.

“Medical unit,” the captain said sternly. “Now.”

“I can walk there,” you argued, still squirming under the feeling of his strong hand clasped across your wound.

He met your eyes with his own. It was a strange sight. Up close, his eyes were less dark. They were a smoky grey, with little wisps of crystalline blue seemingly fracked into the irises.

“Let me do my job, cadet,” Levi said as he continued to carry you down the hall.

You felt so close to tears as you earned glances of confusion from the wandering soldiers. While the captain didn’t seem to mind, you really did. You hated feeling so exposed and helpless to a person you didn’t even know. You fought in the Trost battle, for Wall’s sake! You could make it to the surgery all on your own.

Shame doused over you as Levi kicked the door of the surgery open, immediately demanding a bed and attention for you. You hated the way he said your name. Cadet Y/n L/n sounded almost like an insult. It didn’t take a genius to know that the captain doesn’t like you very much; perhaps some reason is your own fault. Even so, you felt like you didn’t deserve to be judged based off a first interaction.

Or, second interaction, if you count the captain’s claim that he met you during Trost. You couldn’t remember that no matter how hard you tried, in the same way you couldn’t remember Fable’s friend’s name.

Kathie Perrine stalked towards you and Levi, rolling her eyes practically to the back of her head when she recognized you. “Back for more?” she asked you.

She gestured a thin hand to one of the made beds.

You tried to crawl out of Levi’s hold. He didn’t let you. Instead, he placed you gently on the mattress.

And then he left.

You looked after him, shocked that he had managed to be so nimble and graceful looking even with his hand covered in your blood. You blushed as Kathie approached you, looking not as gentle as Levi had been. “What happened?”

You started to unbutton your shirt as she gestured for you, mumbling in a low voice, “I fell down the stairs.”

“You fell down the stairs?” Kathie said for confirmation. A little part of you was willing to be that she was repeating it to rub it in your face. She sighed. “Well, lay on your stomach girl. I’m going to have to close them up.”

You cringed. “Is there any way for me to be unconscious during this procedure?” You begged.

“Not unless you want me to hit you over the head with a lead pipe,” the doctor said. “I can give you a drink of whiskey, though,” she added hopefully.

You accepted.

You downed the two shots Kathie measured out for you before turning to lay on your stomach. Her hands were cold against the sticky, warm mess of your wounded back. They didn’t feel anything like the captain’s had.

You tried to focus on the captain’s hand as Kathie made the first stitch.

You wonder if he felt bad, at all. You wonder if he’s discussing just how lame and clumsy you are with Petra. Sure, a small part of you knows you slipped on your own accord, but majority of your brain blames the captain. He had to have known you’d just gotten out of the medical unit.

Oh, but maybe that’s just how it works in adult life. Perhaps you’re just used to being coddled by Commander Sadies; it was strange, thinking that Sadies was the nice one in comparison to the 5′3 captain.

“So, what happened?” Kathie asked.

You clutched onto a pillow, trying not to tear the fabric apart and release the feathers. “I fell down the stairs while mopping.”

Kathie snorted a laugh. You didn’t exactly appreciate it.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose you learned your lesson. I’m tempted to put you on bed rest...but, with Eren Jaeger’s trial coming up, you’ll need to attend.”

You strained your neck to look at Kathie. “Why do I need to attend?”

“The captain wants you to. Captain Ackerman, that is. He’s been postponing this trial for days, waiting for you to wake up. You were a key witness, you know. He was adamant that you attend. You’ll have to go in a wheelchair.”

You dropped your face into your pillow. “’Wheelchair?!’” you repeated, sounding (and feeling) mortified.

“Trust me, there’s lots of soldiers here that would kill to be put onto wheelchair rest. You’ll be in it for a week.”

“What about my room?”

“Hmm,” Kathie hummed as she did one last stitch. “I suppose you’ll be sleeping down here. I can send someone for your belongings, if you wish. Don’t worry, I won’t be too mean to you.”

You winced at the feeling of her stitching, taking comfort when she told you all she needed to do now was bandage you.

There was a small levee on the wall, made from a wooden handle that poured water from the embedded spout as she pulled it. Kathie dunked a cloth into the water bucket and grabbed a roll of cloth bandages from one of the taller cabinets on the wall.

You braced yourself for the freezing water, and hissed as Kathie put the cold washcloth to your skin.

“If you didn’t want to be uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have fallen down the stairs,” Kathie said in cool tone.

You turned your neck once to glare. “The captain put me on janitorial punishment,” you explained, your voice sounding just slightly snotty.

Kathie tutted. “So soon? I’ll have a word with the captain. Not the first time he’s overworked my patients.”

The captain has a history of this?

Ugh.

You pulled your pillow closer to your face. You focused on the fabric threads, your eyes going cross eyed, as you mumbled, “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Trust me, kid,” Kathie laughed. “He doesn’t like anyone.”

When the bandages were done, Kathie helped you roll over onto your back.

As you nuzzled down into the bed that would be yours for the next week, you had one thought that stood out against the others. Anyone, except for Petra.

“I’ll bring you a tray of dinner tonight, and with that you can take your painkiller. I’m giving you a stronger dose, so it might make your stomach uneasy. I’ll send someone up for your things here soon, alright?” Kathie set a folded, linen shirt on your lap. You were bracing your chest with the blanket from the cot.

“Alright,” you mumbled as you slowly tugged the cloth over your head. It’s not as though you have a choice. “Miss Perrine?” you call before she can leave.

“Yes?”

Your cheeks felt warm and rosy before you could speak. “Did you, by any chance, treat a patient by the name of Krista Lenz?”

Kathie shook her head without any thought. “She a friend of yours?”

“You could say that,” you shrugged. You didn’t want to feel to sad to hear that. It’s good to know that Krista wasn’t hurt.

“I can ask around. I’ll see if she’s stationed here. Do you want me to let you know?”

You carefully leaned back against the propped up pillow you pushed behind your neck. “That would be lovely,” you murmured. “Thank you, Miss Perrine.”

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