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[giveusourtivaprompts]

September 2020 Challenge Prompt

We really asked a lot out of you guys last month, and you absolutely came through! We sure hurt our own feelings with Truth or Consequences fics, and we think that you all probably did, too. It’s time to soothe our pained souls.

With that in mind, we’re really changing things up this month! This month, we want softness. 

Here’s your challenge for September:

In more than 1,000 words but less than 2,000 words, write a fic that puts our tired hearts at ease. It can be set whenever and wherever you’re interested in setting it—any episode, any season, anywhere on the globe, and pre-season 3 and post-season 17 fics are welcome, too! We love Tiva and Tivali fics equally well, so choose whichever you’re most drawn to. Your fic can even be entirely AU, if that’s your jam. Give us the smiles! Give us the tender moments, the quiet Sunday afternoons, the rainy days and the yellow sunshine of a day at the beach! Really, give us anything you’d like to—just make sure it’s soft, whatever that means to you. It doesn’t have to be straight fluff—we love hurt/comfort just as much, or smut, or whatever genre calls your name! The specifics are up to you. Just write us a fic that makes us feel warm and happy. Like last month, we have a line to include: “You matter to me.” After that, there’s just one more requirement: someone in your fic should think about what the word ‘home’ means to them. Got it? To summarize:

Above all else, soft

Between 1,000 and 2,000 words

“You matter to me.”

Thoughts about the meaning of home.

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts​ when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on September 30th, 2020 to share your work. On October 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then October’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

September 2020 Challenge Prompt

We really asked a lot out of you guys last month, and you absolutely came through! We sure hurt our own feelings with Truth or Consequences fics, and we think that you all probably did, too. It’s time to soothe our pained souls.

With that in mind, we’re really changing things up this month! This month, we want softness. 

Here’s your challenge for September:

In more than 1,000 words but less than 2,000 words, write a fic that puts our tired hearts at ease. It can be set whenever and wherever you’re interested in setting it—any episode, any season, anywhere on the globe, and pre-season 3 and post-season 17 fics are welcome, too! We love Tiva and Tivali fics equally well, so choose whichever you’re most drawn to. Your fic can even be entirely AU, if that’s your jam. Give us the smiles! Give us the tender moments, the quiet Sunday afternoons, the rainy days and the yellow sunshine of a day at the beach! Really, give us anything you’d like to—just make sure it’s soft, whatever that means to you. It doesn’t have to be straight fluff—we love hurt/comfort just as much, or smut, or whatever genre calls your name! The specifics are up to you. Just write us a fic that makes us feel warm and happy. Like last month, we have a line to include: “You matter to me.” After that, there’s just one more requirement: someone in your fic should think about what the word ‘home’ means to them. Got it? To summarize:

Above all else, soft

Between 1,000 and 2,000 words

“You matter to me.”

Thoughts about the meaning of home.

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts​ when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on September 30th, 2020 to share your work. On October 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then October’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

September 2020 Challenge Prompt

We really asked a lot out of you guys last month, and you absolutely came through! We sure hurt our own feelings with Truth or Consequences fics, and we think that you all probably did, too. It’s time to soothe our pained souls.

With that in mind, we’re really changing things up this month! This month, we want softness. 

Here’s your challenge for September:

In more than 1,000 words but less than 2,000 words, write a fic that puts our tired hearts at ease. It can be set whenever and wherever you’re interested in setting it—any episode, any season, anywhere on the globe, and pre-season 3 and post-season 17 fics are welcome, too! We love Tiva and Tivali fics equally well, so choose whichever you’re most drawn to. Your fic can even be entirely AU, if that’s your jam. Give us the smiles! Give us the tender moments, the quiet Sunday afternoons, the rainy days and the yellow sunshine of a day at the beach! Really, give us anything you’d like to—just make sure it’s soft, whatever that means to you. It doesn’t have to be straight fluff—we love hurt/comfort just as much, or smut, or whatever genre calls your name! The specifics are up to you. Just write us a fic that makes us feel warm and happy. Like last month, we have a line to include: “You matter to me.” After that, there’s just one more requirement: someone in your fic should think about what the word ‘home’ means to them. Got it? To summarize:

Above all else, soft

Between 1,000 and 2,000 words

“You matter to me.”

Thoughts about the meaning of home.

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts​ when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on September 30th, 2020 to share your work. On October 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then October’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

September 2020 Challenge Prompt

We really asked a lot out of you guys last month, and you absolutely came through! We sure hurt our own feelings with Truth or Consequences fics, and we think that you all probably did, too. It’s time to soothe our pained souls.

With that in mind, we’re really changing things up this month! This month, we want softness. 

Here’s your challenge for September:

In more than 1,000 words but less than 2,000 words, write a fic that puts our tired hearts at ease. It can be set whenever and wherever you’re interested in setting it—any episode, any season, anywhere on the globe, and pre-season 3 and post-season 17 fics are welcome, too! We love Tiva and Tivali fics equally well, so choose whichever you’re most drawn to. Your fic can even be entirely AU, if that’s your jam. Give us the smiles! Give us the tender moments, the quiet Sunday afternoons, the rainy days and the yellow sunshine of a day at the beach! Really, give us anything you’d like to—just make sure it’s soft, whatever that means to you. It doesn’t have to be straight fluff—we love hurt/comfort just as much, or smut, or whatever genre calls your name! The specifics are up to you. Just write us a fic that makes us feel warm and happy. Like last month, we have a line to include: “You matter to me.” After that, there’s just one more requirement: someone in your fic should think about what the word ‘home’ means to them. Got it? To summarize:

Above all else, soft

Between 1,000 and 2,000 words

“You matter to me.”

Thoughts about the meaning of home.

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts​ when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on September 30th, 2020 to share your work. On October 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then October’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

Home

September Challenge for @giveusourtivaprompts

She is jolted awake by the cries of her son, the pain in her chest increasing at the sound. She goes to move, but the sudden gasp that escapes from her lips stops her in her tracks. Her partner stirs beside her, slowly waking up, he mumbles with his eyes closed. “I got him.”

She pulls herself into a seating position, pain shooting up to her bellybutton. “No, Tony, I-” She squeezes her eyes shut, taking a gulp of air.

He shakes his head, throwing his side of the covers back and makes his way to get out of bed. “You need to rest when you can, doctor’s orders. Anthony really did a number on you.” She stares at his back as he walks across the room and into the hallway.

Their son did do a number on her, must have been her husband’s fat head that their child would have one just like it, she chuckles softly, avoiding the tenderness in her loins.

Anthony continues the cry, her heart aching from not being able to go to him. Her brows furrow, he was going for him. But he’s right in the next room. Where is he?

She is just about to get up when the thump thump of his steps echoes down the hall and her husband walks back into the room with a wrapped up icepak. Without meaning to, her eyes widen, she swears she could have been pouting, when he hands it to her without a word and heads to the crying baby. She doesn’t move from her position, if it wasn’t for the weight of the icepak, her arm would still be in the air.

The cries of the newborn turn into soft whimpers as his calming voice comes over the baby monitor beside her bed. “Shh shh, it’s alright Junior, Daddy’s here.”

Involuntary tears escape their hold.

“What can I help you with, little man?”

She places the icepak in position, doing her best to get it as close to the stitches as possible, over the monitor, she can hear her family moving around. She can just picture Tony taking the newborn to the glider in the nursery, just as she did with Tali. Even now the two will find themselves in the glider for a story before bed.

The whimpers over the monitor lessened as his voice becomes softer and tuneful. She can’t place it, a wordless lullaby he hums to his son. A fresh tear rolls down her cheek and falls to her night shirt, soaking the collar.

“I know we just met, my son, that we’ve only known each other for a week. But I want you to know that you matter so much to me. I love you, I love sister Tali, and I love Ima. We will always be a family, I will always be there.” He whispers to the baby. “I will see all your first, I don’t want to miss out on anything. I want to hear your first words, I want to see your first steps, I want Ima and I to be there for your first day of school. And I-” His voice is cut off by a wet fart. “Thanks for cutting me off little man, you a stinky little man.”

She smiles as he moves around the room, talking to their son.

“Let’s see what we got her- oh my god!” He whispers loudly, not to wake anyone up. “Look at that diaper! It is so full! Ima must be feeding you too much.” She can just picture him winking as he’s changing the diaper. “But you will be big and strong just like Daddy, and brilliant like Ima. So you gotta eat.”

She’s heard it many times before, and yet she’s still blushing at his words.

“There we go, all freshly changed. Maybe it’s time for some milk?” There isn’t an answer, but as the footsteps get closer, she wipes the evidence of tears off her face. Her hand falls down to her side as the two walk into the room, little hands peeking out of the blanket.

Pretending she didn’t hear anything, she watches as they walk towards her, a goofy grin on her husband's face. “What do we have here?” She asks.

He gives her a heartwarming grin. “We got a hungry little man.”

“Only the little one?” The crinkle in his eyes gives away his laughter as he hands the baby over to his Ima and walks around to get in his side of the bed, shifting the pillows to watch.

She adjusts her shirt, she feeds her son.

Silently, the two parents watch their son feast on the early hours of the new day, the baby slowly falling back to sleep. After several minutes, Anthony is asleep again, his stomach full and she is suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

She doesn’t say a word as she detaches him from her breast, her partner coming around to take the child back to his room.

When he returns, the newborn no longer in his arms, she is laying down facing the middle of the bed. He joins her, both staring into each other’s eyes.

“Ziva?” He asks, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek.

“Hmm?” She asks, blinking slowly.

“Thank you.” She stares into his eyes, shifting from one to the other. “Thank you for being here, for giving me a purpose. A home.”

She’s silent for many moments, unsure of what to say, her mind racing to find an answer.

“I was lost for so long, not knowing where I belonged. Once I found Tali, I knew something was there, that someone mattered…” He trails off, his voice becoming husky and breathfull with the lingering yawn. “It was you, you and the family we have made. You matter to me, Ziva. It’s been you for a long time.”

The once dried up tear stains become wet again as one rolls down across her nose and into the pillow. “I love you Tony. I should have come home so long ago.” He gives her a questioning stare. “That place, that hadn’t been home for a long time. You, my love, you and Tali and Anthony are my home.”

He leans forward. “Home.” And kisses her before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

[giveusourtivaprompts]

September 2020 Challenge Prompt

We really asked a lot out of you guys last month, and you absolutely came through! We sure hurt our own feelings with Truth or Consequences fics, and we think that you all probably did, too. It’s time to soothe our pained souls.

With that in mind, we’re really changing things up this month! This month, we want softness. 

Here’s your challenge for September:

In more than 1,000 words but less than 2,000 words, write a fic that puts our tired hearts at ease. It can be set whenever and wherever you’re interested in setting it—any episode, any season, anywhere on the globe, and pre-season 3 and post-season 17 fics are welcome, too! We love Tiva and Tivali fics equally well, so choose whichever you’re most drawn to. Your fic can even be entirely AU, if that’s your jam. Give us the smiles! Give us the tender moments, the quiet Sunday afternoons, the rainy days and the yellow sunshine of a day at the beach! Really, give us anything you’d like to—just make sure it’s soft, whatever that means to you. It doesn’t have to be straight fluff—we love hurt/comfort just as much, or smut, or whatever genre calls your name! The specifics are up to you. Just write us a fic that makes us feel warm and happy. Like last month, we have a line to include: “You matter to me.” After that, there’s just one more requirement: someone in your fic should think about what the word ‘home’ means to them. Got it? To summarize:

Above all else, soft

Between 1,000 and 2,000 words

“You matter to me.”

Thoughts about the meaning of home.

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts​ when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on September 30th, 2020 to share your work. On October 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then October’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

August Round-Up

August has officially drawn to a close, and with it ends our August Tiva Fic Challenge! You guys gave us some really great stuff this month—we have our fingers crossed that you will all keep up this gorgeous enthusiasm in the month of September! Here are all of the submissions that we were notified about… if your fic was missed, please let us know so we can add it in! Also, if there are any of these that you haven’t already lost yourself in yet, please give them a read! Support our fantastic writers and appreciate all the work they put in this month! Below, you will find the title, the author, and our favorite line for each fic. The title should include a link to each original post so you can read every entry for yourself.

As a reminder, we were following this prompt:

Related to “Truth or Consequences”

Less than 1,000 words

Including the line “You could have died.”

To everyone who submitted a fic, thank you from the bottom of our hearts! 

Trust Me by @gingerstorm101​

‘Did you think a fight would stop me from being your friend?’

.

Rationality by @justkindaoverhereobsessing​

“Family’s not rational. Never has been.”

.

chashashot (חֲשָׁשׁוֹת) by @justkindaoverhereobsessing​

Terrified of touching her, Tony offers what little comfort he can: keeping his distance, he joins her on the floor and sits in silent vigil for all the things she will never get back.

.

so close but not near by @benditlikepress​

He is right in his silent assessment - what exists between us has never been tangible but now more than ever it is hanging in jeopardy.

.

We Get to Have It All (chapter two) by @thatreallysucked​

Right now, with her face half pressed into his neck, her smile is lazy and sleep-drunk.

.

Till It’s Gone by @television-overload​

In this quiet moment, uninterrupted by inane arguments and his own self-sabotage, Tony’s mind wandered to the things he refused to admit to himself.

.

Tell the World We’re Coming Home by @bamboo72498​

When that hood was pulled off and Tony saw her face for the first time, his stomach dropped out of his ass.

.

Learned Helplessness by @bibliophilemnm​

She came to realize after several weeks in the dark that the darkness was almost a blessing.

.

August

And last but not least, we received one more fic… as you can see, it was entitled August. The author didn’t want to post or share the fic, but we read it and loved it, and that author deserves to have their fic represented in this round-up, too. Thank you for contributing, author of August! 

______________

That’s all for this month, friends! Please keep your eyes peeled in just a few minutes for something totally different coming your way in September! We appreciate each and every one of you—thank you for making our first month such a big success!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

Planting Seeds

my entry for the @giveusourtivaprompts​ September prompt challenge!! 🌼 inspired by the amazing art of Pascal Campion.

prompt: soft // 1k-2k words // “you matter to me” // home

read it on AO3 :)

“What about this one?” asked Ziva, taking a pot from the ground which held a rather large leafy fern and balancing it on her hip.

Tony eyed it for a moment, trying to see what was different in that one to the other potted plants she had asked his opinion on earlier. 

“Great,” was all that he could come up with, looking at Ziva apologetically. 

She lifted a brow. “Are you going to say that to everything I ask?”

Continuar lendo

[giveusourtivaprompts]

feel you in my chest

my entry for the September @giveusourtivaprompts challenge (already lmao - i wrote this walking home from work) thanks again @justkindaoverhereobsessing for organising

read on ao3

“Ouch.”

“I’m sorry, dear boy, my patients aren’t usually able to object.”

Tony winced as Ducky finished wiping the wound and placed the gauze over it.

“Thanks, doc. I owe you one.”

“Yes, well. Let this be a lesson to you in future, hm? Take a break every once in a while.”

“Case is done. Maybe I’ll even get a day off.”

“I hope so. The last few days have been a challenge for you all.”

Tony winced again as the tape came down over the gauze, considering the truth of the words. Serial killers were always tough but this one had been particularly hard to stomach – a suspect Tony hadn’t been able to nail during his time in charge when Gibbs retired had reared his ugly head to the tune of 2 new bodies. The guilt about this had been on his shoulders and he knew he’d barely stopped for breath for the past week. That was, until they’d finally got a confession and he’d gone to autopsy to pick up a last piece of evidence and had what he’d one day insist was simply a very chill ‘second of light-headedness’, in which he’d stumbled and hit his head off the autopsy table.

He’d only passed out for a moment (that he was aware of) and had since found himself perched on the edge of the cold autopsy table as Ducky poked and prodded him with his attempt at live-care.

“How is the patient?”

Tony whipped his head too quickly to the door and groaned at the pain radiating from the cut on his head. Ziva was standing in the doorway with her hands behind her back.

“Oh come in, dear. We’re all finished.”

Ziva had taken it upon herself to try to keep him grounded, shoving cups of coffee at him whenever his hands were empty. The gesture had been sweet at the time but, in hindsight, drinking nothing but coffee for several days in a row probably hadn’t been the smartest of ideas.

Of course he wouldn’t mention that to her, knowing she’d spent the rest of the last few days trying to get him to eat salad that he’d dismissed with childish complaints. Instead, he smiled weakly at her as she crossed the autopsy theatre towards where he was sat.

She grabbed his head in her typical bullish way but her hand slowed almost immediately, her touch suddenly gentle and tentative. She stroked the line of his hair where Ducky had expertly placed gauze stuck with tape, and rubbed her thumb along the bare skin next to it. Tony didn’t flinch, even as he lifted the tape to look at the cut underneath it.

She hung over him for a long time, a little frown on her face as she inspected the cut like a surgeon. In return, Tony’s unsettled stomach and chest were flipping at the proximity. He couldn’t stop watching her – the way her eyes flickered down his face every so often to take in his features, the way her thumb was still rubbing his skin even as she examined the injury. Eventually she covered it back over and even still he found it hard to drag his eyes away.

"Did Ducky call you?" He eventually asked, working through his swimming thoughts. She frowned further.

"You do not remember what happened? I was stood right next to you."

"You were? I don't-"

"Does he need to go to the hospital?”

"I shouldn't think so. The disorientation should wear off soon. Fluids, my boy, that's what you need. And rest, for goodness sake."

“I have been trying to tell him as such.” Ziva pulled herself up onto the autopsy table next to him, placing her hand next to his. “We were going to go for dinner to celebrate a job well done. You said you wanted to come and pick up the box from Ducky, and suddenly you are on the floor with blood all over you.”

“Well, that..” Tony was embarrassed of the story, though he didn’t much remember it. He did remember Ziva asking him for dinner, the kind of nonchalant invitation that had become second nature. “It’s good to keep you on your toes.”

“Ah.” Ziva nodded with a false sincerity. “Well, consider me toe-d.”

“Consider you what?”

“Stress can sometimes affect the way the brain processes information.” Ducky butted in before Tony could comment further on her attempt at a turn of phrase.

“I am not stressed. At least, not anymore if my partner decides to stop passing out.”

“One time. It was one time.”

Tony jerked his head as he objected and sent another jolt of pain through it. He must have physically reacted because Ziva’s hand lifted back to the wound and then cupped his cheek. He felt exposed, suddenly, even with Ducky sat at his desk 10 feet away.

“You are fine, Tony.”

“I… yeah, I know.”

“Good. Because you are not doing that again.” Her voice got unexpectedly soft for a moment, and her hand stilled on his face. He almost felt like apologising, a little guilty that he seemed to have worried her.

“Not to wish the two of you away, but our next guest is on their way to make use of the bed.”

Ziva hopped down from the table and held out her hands to help Tony down as though he were a child. He took them readily, though, joining their fingers as he put his legs down still a little unsteadily.

“You are under strict instructions to leave immediately and not come back for at least 24 hours. I will drive you."

"Oh, that's not necessary."

"It is, and you are coming.”

"Why?"

"Because you matter to me, Tony." She said the words with a humoured exasperation, but Tony still beamed smugly.

"Then why are you trying to kill me?"

“OK, you can walk.” Ziva started to leave the room and though he knew she didn’t mean it, he still reached out to grab her and spin her around.

“Hey – hey, c’mon. Kidding. Thank you. I’ll hold onto the handle, it’ll be fine.”

“I do not know why I bother with you sometimes. Come on, we are going home. Put your arm over me."

It seemed to have slipped out without her thinking about it – the joint concept. "Home?"

Ziva reacted a little to his repetition of the word she’d said so easily. Self-defensive. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Tony had never really had somewhere that felt like home. Not since he was a child and he’d been able to wrap up in his bed at his parents’ old house with his mother tucking him in. That word, though, coming out of Ziva’s mouth. It had the same effect on him as it had done her.

“OK. Let’s go home.”

[giveusourtivaprompts]

September 2020 Challenge Prompt

We really asked a lot out of you guys last month, and you absolutely came through! We sure hurt our own feelings with Truth or Consequences fics, and we think that you all probably did, too. It’s time to soothe our pained souls.

With that in mind, we’re really changing things up this month! This month, we want softness. 

Here’s your challenge for September:

In more than 1,000 words but less than 2,000 words, write a fic that puts our tired hearts at ease. It can be set whenever and wherever you’re interested in setting it—any episode, any season, anywhere on the globe, and pre-season 3 and post-season 17 fics are welcome, too! We love Tiva and Tivali fics equally well, so choose whichever you’re most drawn to. Your fic can even be entirely AU, if that’s your jam. Give us the smiles! Give us the tender moments, the quiet Sunday afternoons, the rainy days and the yellow sunshine of a day at the beach! Really, give us anything you’d like to—just make sure it’s soft, whatever that means to you. It doesn’t have to be straight fluff—we love hurt/comfort just as much, or smut, or whatever genre calls your name! The specifics are up to you. Just write us a fic that makes us feel warm and happy. Like last month, we have a line to include: “You matter to me.” After that, there’s just one more requirement: someone in your fic should think about what the word ‘home’ means to them. Got it? To summarize:

Above all else, soft

Between 1,000 and 2,000 words

“You matter to me.”

Thoughts about the meaning of home.

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts​ when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on September 30th, 2020 to share your work. On October 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then October’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

August Round-Up

August has officially drawn to a close, and with it ends our August Tiva Fic Challenge! You guys gave us some really great stuff this month—we have our fingers crossed that you will all keep up this gorgeous enthusiasm in the month of September! Here are all of the submissions that we were notified about... if your fic was missed, please let us know so we can add it in! Also, if there are any of these that you haven’t already lost yourself in yet, please give them a read! Support our fantastic writers and appreciate all the work they put in this month! Below, you will find the title, the author, and our favorite line for each fic. The title should include a link to each original post so you can read every entry for yourself.

As a reminder, we were following this prompt:

Related to “Truth or Consequences”

Less than 1,000 words

Including the line “You could have died.”

To everyone who submitted a fic, thank you from the bottom of our hearts! 

Trust Me by @gingerstorm101​

‘Did you think a fight would stop me from being your friend?’

.

Rationality by @justkindaoverhereobsessing​

“Family’s not rational. Never has been.”

.

chashashot (חֲשָׁשׁוֹת) by @justkindaoverhereobsessing​

Terrified of touching her, Tony offers what little comfort he can: keeping his distance, he joins her on the floor and sits in silent vigil for all the things she will never get back.

.

so close but not near by @benditlikepress​

He is right in his silent assessment - what exists between us has never been tangible but now more than ever it is hanging in jeopardy.

.

We Get to Have It All (chapter two) by @thatreallysucked​

Right now, with her face half pressed into his neck, her smile is lazy and sleep-drunk.

.

Till It’s Gone by @television-overload​

In this quiet moment, uninterrupted by inane arguments and his own self-sabotage, Tony’s mind wandered to the things he refused to admit to himself.

.

Tell the World We’re Coming Home by @bamboo72498​

When that hood was pulled off and Tony saw her face for the first time, his stomach dropped out of his ass.

.

Learned Helplessness by @bibliophilemnm​

She came to realize after several weeks in the dark that the darkness was almost a blessing.

.

August

And last but not least, we received one more fic... as you can see, it was entitled August. The author didn’t want to post or share the fic, but we read it and loved it, and that author deserves to have their fic represented in this round-up, too. Thank you for contributing, author of August! 

______________

That’s all for this month, friends! Please keep your eyes peeled in just a few minutes for something totally different coming your way in September! We appreciate each and every one of you—thank you for making our first month such a big success!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

Tell the World We’re Coming Home

A ‘Truth of Consequences’ insert set between the team getting rescued in Somalia and when they arrive home in DC. 

My response for the August @giveusourtivaprompts challenge. Word count is 990 words. Enjoy!

Keep reading

[giveusourtivaprompts]

August 2020 Tiva Fic Writing Challenge

I’ve been trying to get back into writing, so here’s my fic for the @giveusourtivaprompts August challenge. Exactly 999 words because that felt like a fun goal to set lol

-.-.-

Ziva was alive.

That information still hadn’t sunk in for Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo as they flew over the Atlantic Ocean in a military-provided aircraft.

All four of them. Gibbs, McGee, Tony… and Ziva.

Tony closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. This looming feeling of anxiety and incompleteness that had pervaded his senses all these months was finally gone. Their team was whole again, and suddenly everything felt right with the world. He hadn’t realized how strange it would feel without her.

You know what they say. You don’t know what you’ve got…

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[giveusourtivaprompts]

Hey hey hey! Don’t forget that there are only four full days left of the August challenge! The morning of September 1st, we’ll be sharing a masterpost of everyone’s challenge response fics, and then we’ll let you know what next month’s challenge will be. 

If you haven’t finished your entry yet, there’s still time! Show us what you’ve got! We’ve loved every submission that we’ve gotten so far... so keep up the great work, friends!

August 2020 Challenge Prompt

As the Northern Hemisphere moves into its last stretch of summer, let the heat inspire you! Use your keyboard to take a trip somewhere warm… more specifically, the Horn of Africa. Let’s talk Somalia.

Here’s your challenge for August:

In 999 words or less, write a Tiva fic set during “Truth or Consequences”. Your fic can be from any perspective that you’d like to write about, and you can touch on any aspect of that episode that you’re interested in digging into. You can add a missing scene, alter a scene from canon, get creative about flashbacks or flashforwards—or anything you want! This can be angst or fluff or hurt/comfort, it’s up to you. The sky’s the limit! There’s only one big requirement to tie our stories together: somewhere in your fic, you have to use the line “You could have died.” Got it?

To summarize:

<1k words

Set in “Truth or Consequences”

“You could have died.”

Be sure to mention @giveusourtivaprompts when you post your fic, and you have until the end of the day (in your own time zone) on August 31st, 2020 to share your work. On September 1st, we’ll share a round-up of everyone’s fics… and then September’s challenge will go live!

Happy writing!

[giveusourtivaprompts]

We Get to Have it All, Chapter 2

For the @giveusourtivaprompts August Tiva fic challenge: <1k words involving “Truth or Consequences” and including the line “You could have died.” Word count: 999 Summary:  This chapter is a continuation of their reunion, and also part of the challenge @justkindaoverhereobsessing challenged us to. There are flashbacks to ToC and it takes place post-season 17.

It’s late when their tears are no longer sad, when they’re both a little loopy and teary and content with knowing that their family isn’t going anywhere. The lazy circles she’s been tracing against his chest are starting to become lines before she jerks back to consciousness. He laughs gently when she tries to continue her caresses, but she’s clearly lost her battle. The smile that appears shyly when he lifts her hand to his lips reminds him of the one she gave him on the day they brought her home from Somalia. He’s happy to admit to himself that this night is a lot different than that day. Tonight, the air between them is all encompassing; it’s everything they’ve been waiting for all these years. That day, the air was grimy and heavy. He remembers watching her watch the straps hanging from the overheads sway. He remembers watching the clouds in her eyes roll in. Now, in the midst of his reminiscence, he can indulge in the love he felt for her. He couldn’t in those moments, partly because he wasn’t even aware the extent of his love for her. Now, though, he allows himself to remember the softness of those moments on the plane. “When you said, ‘I guess I couldn’t live without you,’ was that the truth serum’s doing?” Tony remembers how heavy and tired her voice was and how badly she was struggled to make sense of the storms brewing in her mind; he could see the struggle loud and clear. They’ve never been good at hiding from each other. Right now, with her face half pressed into his neck, her smile is lazy and sleep-drunk. The circumstances now are vastly different than the ones they faced on that plane, but her smile is similar; and that makes him love her even more. Even in the darkest moments of her life, she still tried to comfort him. He remembers the way she tried to apply pressure to a gash on her cheek, but the pain was too much. He can’t help but to brush his thumb across her cheek now and think about the way she smiled at him; a sort of secret smile meant for just him that they hadn’t deciphered the meaning of yet. She had been in extraordinary pain in all senses and she still let him in. He chuckles quietly at the response he gave her, “at this point, the extent of the serum’s hold on me is questionable.” He remembers the tear that escaped her eye at this. He remembers the way she exhaled, shuddering and grunting as sudden intake of the following breath hurt her worn body. He finds himself smiling back at her now. He’s sure she doesn’t even know he’s smiling at her because she’s that close to sleep, but that doesn’t keep him from relishing longer in that moment. He’s never understood why people think she’s cold. She’s the warmest person he knows. It was her who brought warmth into their somber ride on that plane as she slid her hand close to his and brushed her pinky finger against his. His eyelids are drooping when the sudden feeling of her fingers tickling the stubble on his face jolts him awake. She giggles slightly at the way he snorts and places his hand over hers. “We are not going to get any sleep tonight, are we, Ahuvi?” Her term of endearment has his heart fluttering. “I’m just thinking about when we brought you home from Somalia,” he starts gently but the look in her eyes is open and welcoming. “What has you thinking about that?” Her accent is thick and it only has him smiling more. She quirks an eyebrow at what she knows is a complex mix of thoughts and emotions going on in his head. “I don’t like thinking about how you could have died. I think about the day we brought you home a lot, and those thoughts used to hurt. But when I see you smile it reminds me of the way you smiled at me that day. I think that’s when I realized that I love you,” his voice cracks a little bit and she cuddles closer. “I wish I could say that I have not almost died as many times as I have, but do you know what the common denominator is in all of this?” He feels her smooth out the furrow that forms between his eyebrows. “What’s that?” “You have never failed me, even when I thought you had. From that moment you asked me what you could do for me and I told you, ‘nothing,’ until this very moment, you have not wavered. You have found me time and time again. You found me even when I did not want to be found,” her words rattle a little in his tired brain a little before they stick. He brushes a stray curl from her eyes and takes in the way she’s still smiling their smile, “I’ll never stop finding you.” “Milim lo yekholot letaer et ha’ahava sheli elekha,” they’re both so tired that he’s not fast enough to translate for himself and she’s too tired to slow down. What starts as a chuckle and an attempt to tell her that she might have to help him out turns into a rumbling laugh that she has to stifle with a kiss. She’s rolling in laughter, too, at this point. She barks out a laugh into his lips when he grips her hips and rolls her on top of him, “Tony! We are going to wake Tali, then neither of us will sleep tonig-,” he doesn’t give her the opportunity to finish her sentence as he frames her face between his hands and brings her down against him. He tugs her firmly down onto him, one hand finding solace in her curls, the other tickling patterns into the skin of her back. He feels like he can finally breathe.

[giveusourtivaprompts]

חֲשָׁשׁוֹת (chashashot)

Tony spends too many years worrying about Ziva David. (TW/CW: non-graphic references to captivity and assault.)

Another answer to the @giveusourtivaprompts​ 1k-words-or less challenge to write a Truth or Consequences fic including the line “You could have died.” The title is a Hebrew word and its transliteration: חֲשָׁשׁוֹת, a noun meaning “worries, fears, or concerns (about something or someone)”.

Word count: 995

Also on ff and AO3

________________

Day 0

Tony can feel Ziva watching him during the bumpy Jeep ride back to civilization and, anxious, he speaks before she can.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Ziva. ’You’re an idiot for following me! You could have died.’ But the truth is, we haven’t gotten much sunlight in Washington recently and I thought going closer to the equator would help me tan. It’s really just a happy coincidence that you were here, too.”

Ziva doesn’t answer, which is no surprise. In the silence that follows, Tony realizes something: finding her alive doesn’t at all stop him from worrying about her.

In fact, he’s more worried now than he’s ever been.

________________

Day 36

They eventually patch things up and (somewhat awkwardly) salvage their friendship. Things start to look up: Ziva quits Mossad and slips around the obstacles preventing her from becoming an official NCIS special agent.

It’s almost enough to convince Tony that she’s as fine as she says she is, that what happened in the desert has stopped haunting her…

Almost.

It’s nearly believable until Ziva is accosted during a routine investigation; unexpectedly, a man leaps from a closet and tackles her. She fights him off before Tony can help, but for a brief moment, she’s pinned down by someone twice her size. Tony has time to observe just one detail in that split second: there’s wild panic in her eyes.

Once the attacker is cuffed and placed in the backseat, Tony blocks the passenger door to stop Ziva from getting in.

“What do you want?” she asks, her voice soft, dangerous; she reminds Tony of a snake, coiled to strike.

“About what just happened… Are you—”

“I am fine.” Those three words are snarled with enough acid that Tony recoils, and when Ziva pushes past him to get in the car, he doesn’t stop her…

But he worries.

________________

Day 81

A nightmare wakes Tony around 0300; after tossing and turning for a few minutes, he admits defeat and decides to be first in the office for once in his career. When he steps into the bullpen just after 0400, though, it’s clear that someone else beat him here.

“Kinda early to be reorganizing files, isn’t it?” Tony observes, tone neutral, when he finds Ziva doing just that.

She’s on the floor between their desks, surrounded by papers; she doesn’t look up at him.

“I do not sleep much.”

Having noticed her exhaustion for months, Tony doesn’t know how to answer this irrefutable statement.

Instead, he just worries.

________________

Day 107

Despite never having been to Tony’s apartment before, Ziva shows up there unannounced one night. As soon as Tony opens the door and sees her, he knows that something is very wrong.

“God, Ziva, what happened!?”

“May I come in?”

Concerned, Tony steps back, admitting her. Then he trails cautiously behind as she wanders to the living room and pauses, hugging herself and trembling. Her hair is loose and dripping wet; her skin is bright red like she’s been badly sunburned.

“What happened?” Tony repeats when she doesn’t say anything else; his voice sounds foreign to his own ears, gentle but pressing.

“I had a flashback—I thought I was there again. Saleem’s men were… they were everywhere I looked. I could not get away. I could not get away.” Ziva jerks suddenly, her voice losing its distant quality. “Then I remembered where I was, but I could still feel their hands on me. I felt… dirty. I scrubbed and scrubbed myself, but—” She swallows roughly.

“But what, Ziva?”

“When will I feel clean again?”

Breaking down suddenly, Ziva falls to her knees.

Terrified of touching her, Tony offers what little comfort he can: keeping his distance, he joins her on the floor and sits in silent vigil for all the things she will never get back.

Ziva sleeps on Tony’s couch that night; she drifts off there out of sheer exhaustion, and he is unwilling to wake or move her.

Tony doesn’t sleep that night, instead lying restlessly in his bed and listening for sounds of distress from his friend.

He hears nothing, but still, he worries.

________________

Day 114

Tony tries to talk to Ziva about last week, but she pretends not to hear him. He tries again later and gets the same result.

He gets the message loud and clear—she doesn’t want to talk. Aware that pushing her could do further harm, he resolves to say nothing until she initiates a conversation.

For now, he’ll keep his worries to himself.

________________

Day 245

His resolve sticks, which means that the conversation never happens. Ziva doesn’t bring it up, and things again return to their tentative normal. Tony really doesn’t know what to do except follow her lead; everyone else seems to think she’s fine.

Then, however, he misses her biggest milestone—she becomes a US citizen, finally free of the father who so casually sent her to die. Tony, busy with the cartel in Mexico, isn’t there to support her.

When things settle, he offers Ziva an American flag pin for her backpack. The lame gift is small consolation for his broken promise.

“Thank you,” Ziva says; her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Tony adds guilt to his list of worries.

________________

Day 1,470

On a plane in Tel Aviv, Tony can still taste Ziva’s bittersweet kiss on his lips. Their mutual heartbreak now is his own fault; he should have done more to protect her, if only from herself.

When the plane departs, Tony knows that he failed his best friend.

Waiting for her and worrying was never going to be enough, was it?

________________

Day 2,428

They all watch on ZNN as Ziva’s farmhouse burns uncontrollably, and for Tony, time seems to stop. Six years of aching, six years of grief, six years of worrying… it has all led to this, and for what?

Ziva David is dead. Gone.

God, Tony wishes she was still around to worry over.

[giveusourtivaprompts]

so close but not near

my entry for the @giveusourtivaprompts August prompt challenge! thanks @justkindaoverhereobsessing for putting me onto it

<1k, set during 7x01, "you could have died"

read on AO3

Journal of Ziva David

2009

Summer/Fall #1

I am not sure this part of what happened counts as a new chapter. It was an inbetween time - a time where the realities of what had happened were not far away, but equally were not reality anymore. Not still summer but not quite fall as we travelled back to the States.

I thought revisiting my journals and filling in the blanks of what has happened since I was last here would help me process it. Bring a form of closure. As with most things, it is not turning out to be as simple as it was when envisioned in my head. Strangely, this is the part of the story I am finding the most difficult to write. Much of what happened after we left the camp is a blur.

We stopped off at a hospital but we did not stay long. The questions were intrusive and being asked too loudly and too quickly. I believe I walked out in the end, unsteady feet carrying me.

They accepted I was not going to talk yet. Took me to where the plane was waiting.

I remember moments of the long journey, here and there. The roar of the engine underneath our feet on the plane. Bile rising in my throat, because of turbulence or something else. I remember Tony, pretending he was not staring at me.

I cannot remember where Gibbs and McGee were sat but the two of us ended up next to each other on the plane, fate intertwining us once again. I have never known him to be so stiff, the space between us only inches but stretching on for miles. I wanted to tell him it was OK - that he did not have to cower away from me, but every time I tried the words caught in my throat.

Looking back now I understand why he was trying so hard, tiptoeing around me but trying constantly to engage me in conversation. He was trying to save something between us. Something he must have all but given up for dead. But my own mind was clouded - the reality of what he had just done affecting my ability to be receptive to anything surface-level he had to say.

I must have fallen asleep at one point because I remember opening my eyes to find him staring at me in a way that made it clear I had had a nightmare. He said "It's OK" but still held himself away from me, gap between our bodies, as though scared how I would react if he reached out.

I think I touched his fingers with mine, just for a moment. I can't be sure.

The one vivid memory I have from that journey is how clouded my mind was on everything that had happened before the desert. It was as though it had happened to someone else - feelings displaced by blood and dirt and screaming and darkness. If there was one thing that remained, it was guilt. An immediate feeling whenever I looked him in the face and saw what he had done for me after what I had done to him. How could I tell him it was alright if he touched me, that I trusted him, after I betrayed his in the worst way?

I do not remember saying a word until we were far over the Atlantic. I stared at his dirtied face and told him "you could have died" and he blinked as thought that had not occurred to him until that moment. Or it was my voice, rather, that had taken him by surprise. When I hear it in my head now it sounds so quiet and strangled.

I remember fixating on a small piece of broken-off plastic on the ground in front of us. I was sure Tony would be thinking me dazed as I stared at it, wondering where it had come from. Was it an essential part of its owner, or a meaningless extra? Would this piece being broken off change it irrevocably?

When we landed, it rolled under a seat. I wondered what that meant. If it was somehow a sign; a bizarre, material reflection of my own story.

I needed sleep more than an answer. But it would not come all night.

I found myself thinking of him, using him and abstract questions of where we might stand to push other more visceral memories from my mind. I resolved that same night the promise that I need to talk to him, but even as I sit here weeks later I find myself incapable of making the first move. Saying sorry is a given, but it is a hard emotion to combine with the realities of what has happened since. What we ended up going through - together and apart.

He is right in his silent assessment - what exists between us has never been tangible but now more than ever it is hanging in jeopardy. For whatever else there is brewing under the surface - feelings I had denied for so long suddenly making a poetic reappearance, I could not ignore what had come before. Rebuilding that must come first. I try, whole-heartedly, to remind myself not to take stead from his own drug-induced admission. If he even remembers it.

I am due at NCIS tomorrow to see Dr Bracco and begin my psychiatric evaluation. That is another issue that will require an entry of its own, but for now I know I must resolve this. If I see him tomorrow, I must take that as a sign.

If this summer has taught me anything, it is that life is short. I cannot keep telling myself he will still be there waiting when I am finally able to form the words to state outright what I did and apologise. He deserves to hear that, if nothing else. I owe it to him after what he did.

Even if that is all he will be willing to hear.