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zambie-trashart · 3 years

Text

Caught in My Chest 2/2

Marinette looked around her classroom taking her seat in the back and no one even gave her a second glance except Adrien.

"Marinette, since you missed so much class I can help you after school today if you feel up for it," Lila said sweetly before fake wincing. "Or maybe not my port has been acting up lately," Lila said crocodile tears coming to her eyes.

"Port?" Marinette asked and Alya glared at her from the front of the classroom. "Wouldn't that mean you have..." Marinette started holding her right arm where her piccline was.

"Go on Marinette ask her!" Alya yelled holding Lila close.

"But that's, I just..." Marinette started. "I was just discharged from the hospital with Hodgkin's Lymphoma," Marinette finally said and all faces turned toward her.

Never before had Marinette seen the class so mad at her all because of a lie. How Lila had gotten a hold of this information was unexplainable but the fact that she would turn it around was unspeakable. "I can't believe you would say you have cancer just to try and show up Lila Marinette! You know she was recently diagnosed!" Marinette's breath was caught in her chest and she felt like she could never breathe again. Adrien stood up red faced and shaking.

"You're all idiots! Lila has been playing you since day one and the only reason why I haven't said anything is because I didn't have any proof," Adrien said and Marinette looked at her former crush in shock. "If any of you even bothered to do some research you'd know what a monster she is." Lila looked at Adrien angrily.

"What do you mean proof?" Lila asked trying to keep up her hurt persona.

"Medical records," Adrien said slapping them down on the table. "Also the fact that Marinette here has been in a healthy relationship with Damian Wayne for almost a year now and the fact that he is paying for her treatment and housing her after you turned her parents against her is another factor." Lila's face started to turn red.

"You have no right to go through my documents," Lila said picking up the files.

"I mean if there were any there, your bill of health has been clean for years Lila, Marinette's on the other hand not so much," Adrien said. "That's all I needed to say, we can wait and do more have later when Damian gets here but I can't say he'll be as nice about it. Marinette is the only family I have left and I'm not going to let you drag her through the grass anymore," Adrien added going to sit in the back of the classroom next to his friend.

"You didn't have to do that," Marinette said leaning on his shoulder. "But I appreciate it kitten," Marinette said winking and Adrien knew he was busted.

"I'll always be here for you M'lady," Adrien said and class started without delay.

Lunch rolled around and everyone was conflicted, Lila had lied to them about a deadly illness about so much, and Marinette, who they treated like garbage, was the one who was really sick. A large sigh could be heard from the door and two boys with black hair stood in the doorway one pushed sunglasses to the top of his head smiling and the other's face was stone cold.

"Alright, students of Francois Dupont, my name is Dick Grayson and today we're going to be talking about some certain behaviors of slander toward our name," Dick started and the whole lunchroom froze. "Recently we have heard from a patient of our program to help cancer patients around the world that there has been some issues, we are here to clear that up." Students suddenly noticed that he was reading from a screen on his wrist. "I sound like a robot," Dick whispered to Damian who rolled his eyes.

"Furthermore, patient 13078, Marinette Dupain-Cheng of the Wayne Foundation clinic was taken under our care at time 4:37 on March 30, 2021, she was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma and moved to urgent care on April 2, 2021, after a biopsy on the first of April, 180 days of treatment are being provided and paid for in full. Lila Rossi who is not a patient of the Wayne foundation clinic has been seen harassing the patient which can cause stress levels to increase and therefore panic attacks which lead to trouble breathing and a shutting down of her lungs or windpipe in general if Miss. Rossi does not comply with our orders or removal from the school and distance from Miss. Dupain-Cheng, then we will be forced to take more forceful action..." Dick continued.

"Is this really necessary? Just stop messing with my girlfriend and apologize you assholes," Damian said and Dick sighed putting his arm down.

"Marinette, we know that things will never be the same but we're here to fight this with you," Alya said and Marinette felt tears well up in her eyes. Even if these people had been nothing but cruel to her she still wanted their support.

"We'll help you in any way we can dudette," Nino said wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"That really means a lot guys but I need time to get over this with people who are truly going to be at my side, I'll appreciate everything you do though," Marinette said getting up and walking over to Damian with Adrien following close behind.

"You did what you thought was right beloved," Damian said and Marinette just smiled sadly. Damian looked over her head at Adrien who stared right back. "I think I know someone who might be able to make us all feel a little happier during this time, I'll see what I can do," Damian said leaving the superhero duo together to call a friend who could certainly bring the sunshine into Marinette's life again.

"A lot is about to change kitty," Marinette said holding the blond's hand watching Damian talk on the phone.

"180 days of fun M'lady," Adrien responded and suddenly a boy landed next to Damian and ran over to Marinette.

"Ready to kick some ass future Mrs. Wayne?" the boy asked and Marinette just chuckled blushing. She could already feel the weight being lifted off her shoulders.

The first few weeks were hard, she had to work to stay awake and study, keeping up with others was becoming a challenge.

The second month was painful but then again there was poison in her body constantly being flushed in and out.

The third month, radiation started, she was scared but she knew it had to be done.

Month four, she was almost done they said maybe even healed soon.

Once they had the caner isolated, she just had to have that laser there and then, hopefully, it would all be over.

Marinette had 180 days of meeting Damian's self-proclaimed best friend Jon by her side being whatever he needed her to be, she had the best partner she could ask for who was there to talk to her whenever she was scared, and she had Damian, her rock in the ocean.

When Marinette went into the doctors office and read off her paperwork, tears flooded her eyes as she bit her lip trying to contain her smile.

She was cured. Sixteen years old and she fought cancer and won.

She walked into school looking at the anxious faces of her peers.

"I've wanted to tell you something that I've known since the beginning of treatment, I'm moving to America after this was over, there's something about being here that makes me feel tied down. I did it, I fought and won a war far bigger than myself but somehow there's still something that I feel like I need to do or say, like there's something caught in my chest," Marinette said smiling sadly. "Lila never said anything, and that's what stings the most but I know I leave you guys as better people and you'll never make the same mistakes again, I want you to know I forgive you, every one of you." Marinette looked over her classmates one last time eyeing their expressions of tear-filled faces. "I have a flight to catch, bug out," Marinette said taking Damian's hand and walking past Jon and Adrien at the door and out of the school.

For the first time in a long time, Marinette felt her heart flutter as she took a deep breath and got on the plane.

a/n: This was such a hard story to write for me and I'm so happy to anyone who is reading and hope you enjoyed this experience. It has actual factual information in it and maybe you might have even learned something which would be cool huh? I hope to end up like Marinette in the next 163 days. thank you for reading

-Zambie

Taglist is closed due to story being complete: @hateswifi @crystalangelluna @liquid-luck-00 @thatonecroc @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @professionalfangirl1738 @mochegato @wannajointhecrabcult @ranger-gothamite @moonspiritwolf1 @mochinek0 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ash-amg @enchanted-nerd @mewwitch @zorua-adorable @jumpingjoy82 @coolspidermanmusicflower @yazz-frost @bugsy05 @rhetoric-question-mark @myazael @rosep16 @elmokingkong @kking13 @heaven428 @vixen-uchiha @arcticfox487 @toodaloo-kangaroo @battybatbat

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx

a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)

summary: literally just birth + harry

dad!tom x reader

warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too

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“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”

That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable.

“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead, Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him.

Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom; but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently.

“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless.

The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube.

“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window.

“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary.

“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.”

The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation.

Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement.

What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling.

“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face.

“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too.

And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago.

“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?”

Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours.

“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.

“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to.

“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features.

Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical.

“You gonna tell me her name now?” You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans.

“Amber. She’s Amber.”

You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart.

The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin.

“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms.

“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response.

“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”

“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”

“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.

“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”

“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”

“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”

“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone.

“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear.

“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”

“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would.

“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them.

“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”

hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3

taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland blurb #dad!tom #tom holland imagine #harry holland

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lavenderahs · 3 years

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hi!!! can u please do 17, 22 and 26 with either cody fern or xavier plympyon?? i’m new to the cody fern fandom and am seriously craving some fluffy content. i’d appreciate it <333

ofc! ill do cody :)

prompts here!

a/n: this isnt the best, not rlly doing good mentally rn lol. trying to get back on my a-game

mini tag - @d3monslust @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860 @forevercountess

cody

17 shower. dinner. bed. -

cody & i spend most of our days working. since cody is currently on set for season 10 of ahs. [a/n: i wish !!] his nights get longer and longer. having home cooked meals together is a priority for eachother, just something we enjoy. not eating our meals till 9 or 10pm takes a toll on me, but i wouldnt trade the hour or 2 of sleep i loose, just to see codys face light up after a long day on set. "darling im home!" cody says in a singy-song voice as he slips in the door. i run up to him, greeting him with a warm hug. "ive missed you" his arms connect to mind as he slips them around my waist. "ive missed you too" he smiles. i look up into his warm blue eyes "ive got ravioli waiting for you" i slip out of his arms, trying to sway him to the kitchen. pulling back "no my love not yet" i groan as he drags me into our bedroom. "c'mon, lets both just knock out a shower real quick" he grabs us towels from the dresser. showering with cody is definitely a heart warming feeling, just the warmth and love in our veins. cody motions for me to get in; i gently step into the shower, warmth trickling down my spine. cody hands me my bottle of shampoo, other hand holding his. we stand face to face; washing our hair, giggling as we flick the suds at eachother. we share gentle kisses as we bathe. i squeeze out face wash into our hands "here wash my face and ill wash yours" he laughs as he cups my face and gently cleanses my face. i reach up to his and pinch his cheeks, causing us to giggle.

after drying off, and putting clean clothes on; we headed back to the kitchen. our ravioli still warm, cody decided to pour us some champange. slipping the glass into my hands, bringing us to a toast; "heres to us, 2 beautiful connected souls" he shines a charming rin as the glasses clink. throughout our meal, i always notice the small things; how his eyes never leave mine, how hes so invested into what im saying, in conclusion he just truly cares. most men are pure shit; but cody, hes different. after our last few bites, codys hands linger to the dirty plates "i got dishes hun, go finished getting ready for bed, ill be there in a sec" knowing how stubborn he is, you don't bother arguing.

the lamps in your bed room are dimmed, the only light being the television. laying with half open eyes, i wait on cody to come to bed. as i almost drift off, i hear his soft foot steps slip inside our room. he chuckles lightly "hey sleepyhead" he slides in beside me, wrapping his arm around me, bringing me to his chest. his calm heart beat hums in my ears. i take a few deep breaths "i love you so much cody" i whisper. i hear the smile in his voice "i love you too darling" his hands caresss my hair as i slowly drift off. "sleep well my love"

22 youre cute when youre mad

"i dont understand y/n! why can't you just pick something" his face hot from frustration. giggling, I say "babe I just don't know what to eat, theres so many choices" i trail off as i twirl my hair. out of the corner of my eye i see him roll his eyes. "i mean.. theres the deli on 4th street, the hotdog stand, oooh maybe waffle house" i do my best to irritate him. he looks over at me "so hot headed" i chuckle. "y/n, i swear, i dont under-" i cut him off "cody its because youre cute when youre mad" i say sarcastically even though it's true. he exhales "so im cute now" eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed he spits. "yessum you are, my cute lil hot head" i tap his nose. his mood lightens at my silly acts. "ugh i love you" he smiles as he leans in for a kiss. i return the kiss, slow yet with a smile. knowing that hes gonna have to deal with me for the rest of his life.

26 youre such a blanket hog -

"cody give it!!!" i whine as i pull our bed comforter back onto me "cody! we have a queen size bed! you dont need all of it!" he gives no response to the complains; just simply watching the movie. irritated, i hop up and find the closest throw blanket in our room. "look! i got my own now" hes trying so hard not to crack a smile. i hop on to the bed, wrapping it tightly around me. "youre such a blanket hog!" i say with a pout. his only response being "i know silly, gotta deal with it"

#american horror story #ahs #cody fern #michael langdon #xavier plympton #ahs apocalypse #ahs 1984 #ahs fandom #cody fern fandom #duncan shepherd #cody fern x reader #cody fern fluff #cody fern fanfiction #cody fern fanfic #eden #andy dolan

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Club Takamagahara (Part 1) Z

This is probably going to be the hardest to shove the MC into to be honest. But I think my premise is good, but let me know what you think!

MC sat on the edge of a mossy cliff that was covered in scrubby, grey grass. Rocks were patched with bright orange lichen that were splashed on like paint. The sea was blue with fresh melt water from the ice caps that defrosted, a pale blue that didn’t quite reflect the sky. You learned that it was the minerals from the earth that gave the sea this unique color. The breeze caressed your dark hair and drew it across your face.

You’re back in Black Swan Bay in midsummer. You feel that it should be night, but like the winter months were dark with the sun never rising, in summer, the sun never set and the sky was always bright. Most people would never understand how a place like this could be so familiar when for them it was like living on an alien planet, but for you, even though the sky was always brilliant in the summer, you could tell the time of day by the level of light in the sky, a technique acquired by someone who grew up with exposure to an eternal day.

You’re not alone. Boots crunched in the pea gravel and approached. They were black, and lined with fur and half covered with a long, black fur lined coat worn by a young man a few years younger than you. He sat down, stretching one leg in front of him and resting one arm on his knee.

He had dark hair like you, but his eyes were a bright gold in his pale face. You always thought they were beautiful eyes, but now you understood what they meant. He had dragon blood flowing in his veins. He turned to look at you.

You remembered him being reclusive, not talking to you much unless it was to exchange witty banter. He was relaxed, always smiling cryptically, never bothered by the nurses or the rules, but never really getting into any trouble either. He knew your name when you met despite never having met you before. He reached up and brushed your hair back with one gloved hand to tuck it behind your ear.

Your expression goes deadpan. “I’m not dead, am I, Z.”

The golden eyed boy’s expression reflects surprise and then breaks into a hearty laugh. He covers his face with one hand while you watch him try to get control of himself, a warm feeling spreading in your chest that teases a smile out of you.

Z finally stopped laughing and sighed wistfully, looking out over the ocean. “I missed you.”

He turned to you again with a look that was affectionate but calculating, like he was holding in a secret but barely. “No, you’re not dead.”

Your smile fades and you turn back to the ocean. “Why not?”

Z reached to one side of him and lifted a thick book in black leather. On the cover, a golden cross was embossed on it, but the cross didn’t look like a crucifix. Instead, it appeared to be on fire, with the flames appearing to be like a dragon’s wings. Z lifted the golden ribbon that marked a spot near the beginning.

He read from the book, his voice rose over the wind and the crashing waves. “And in very deed for this cause have I raised thee up, for to show in thee my power…”

“You’re doing this?”

Z clapped the book shut and it vanished in a haze of golden dust. “I can’t explain everything. The pieces are not in place yet and it won’t make any sense to you. You won’t understand until the very end. That said, I can’t do everything. You had a very close call. So I wanted to warn you not to be too reckless.”

You sit up straight. “You’re alive? Where are you, Z?”

“I am alive but… Like I said, you won’t understand. Just be more careful. Alright?” He’s staring at you seriously. Back in Black Swan Bay, most people ignored his existence, but you felt he was calling you, drawing you to him for some unknown reason. At times, he would just appear next to you, like he was following you around like a ghost. And now you feel lost in those eyes once again in this strange dream world.

“Okay. I promise.”

“Promises are meaningless.” He shook his head. “Just do it.”

You nod again. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“One more, hurry.”

“Why me of all people? Why not Renata or Vera? Or Anton or...”

“Because you were the strongest … second to Renata.” The world started to go dark, like a curtain was falling over the sea, the rocks and the grass. The wind grew still and you felt a bit stuffy and tired. Soon all you could see were those golden eyes.

“And well… you make me laugh.”

You relax into the darkness and for a moment your mind goes blank. But then your mind revives again. “...was that a Roger Rabbit reference?”

“Dammit, MC! Wake up!” He says in a harsh whisper.

Your eyes open wide. Lu Mingfei - not Z - is leaning over your head, appearing upside down in your view, arms on either side of your face. You blink wearily. “Mingfei?” Your voice is hoarse coming out a dry and scratchy throat.

He puts one finger to your lips. “Shhh… You’ve got to stay quiet. No one knows you’re here!” He’s wearing very fancy clothes, the type of suits you see in photos of weddings and official events from magazines that depict life in Moscow. A black suit, a button down shirt with a stiff collar. Diamond studded earrings were in his ears. His hair was swept back and gelled. "If you keep moaning like that you'll get discovered! The walls are very thin and if you’re discovered we’ll be in BIG trouble!" Lu Mingfei was indeed keeping his whisper very quiet.

You’re surrounded by walls on all sides of you, made of dark wood paneling and covered by shelving from floor to ceiling. Your bed takes up the rest of the space. In fact, Mingfei is leaning over you like this because he can’t squeeze his legs between the narrow space between the bed and those shelves. As you look up at him, you can’t help but notice Mingfei’s resemblance to Z. Perhaps if Z had grown older and been able to eat more, he would have grown as tall as Mingfei.

You examine the curve of his eyes and the lift of his nose and squint. You didn’t notice this before because Mingfei does look different, he talks differently, and he acts differently. He doesn’t give off Z’s mysterious, mischievous, and dangerous aura. Z always looked like he had something up his sleeve. It could be good or bad and you didn’t know until you had it in your hand. The way he talked made you want to know however.

Lu Mingfei always looked fearful, reactionary and caught off guard. If Z was the prankster, Lu Mingfei was the pranked. So it was no wonder that you never noticed the physical similarities between someone so different until you woke up from one face to another face.

He sighed, hanging his head. When he looked up again, deep concern was reflected in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I seriously thought you were a goner.. If we hadn’t been picked up and taken somewhere they had a nice kit, you probably would have died out there on the street.”

He lifted your hand. A clear IV tube was running from it to a bag of fluid hanging from a hook nailed into one of the shelves. “Where am I?”

“I.. '' Lu Mingfei’s lips pulled down and he looked ill. “Ugh. It’s better you see for yourself. I don't even know how to begin.”

“Caesar?”

“Oh, he’s fine. And so is Senpai. I’m the one suffering here!” He whispered, casting his eyes to one side bitterly.

He held a clean cloth to your hand, and removed the IV and bandaged it. “I’ll give you the rundown of the situation because we’re seriously up a creek. The Hydras are labeling us as dangerous foreign terrorists, gangsters, and everything else under the sun. They’re running the news to look out for us 24/7. If we show our faces anywhere we are absolutely doomed. They have the whole country after us. We can’t use any credit cards, we’ve lost contact with the college and as soon as we try to get into contact with them, Kaguya is on us like a ton of bricks.”

Ton of bricks. The phrase reminds you of the fact that you managed to get a bootleg copy of “Who Framed Roger Rabbit'' and watched it over and over on a TV hidden in a shed. If you could get your chores done quickly, you could watch the movie there without being noticed. “Mingfei… have you ever seen ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ Do you like it?”

“What? Are you feverish?” He put one hand to your forehead. “Please try to focus! This is important! None of us can touch the network because we’re traceable. Except you!”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’re the only one of us with zero internet presence. You’ve never had so much as an email. Almost all the information on you is held by EVA and not even Kaguya can breach her system so you’re more likely to be able to log in and find some way to contact the College without getting caught, so we need you to stay safe. Got it?”

“Yes, Senpai. I understand.” You nod. Z’s warning to you in a dream seemed even more relevant now. He was protecting you by some form of mystic way, but the danger now was so great that even he had to warn you to be careful.

Mingfei stared at your deferential response in shock. “Are you sure you’re alright? I expected you to sneer at me.”

“It’s just… you remind me of someone else just now.” You whisper, you lower your eyes. “I’m sorry if I made trouble with you. I had to do it. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

Mingfei took a deep breath. “We’re all grateful for you too, MC. So don’t worry about anything. Senpai told the boss about what you did in the Trieste. He owes you twice now. There’s no way he’d rat you out in the reports. You’re fine with everyone, okay?”

“Even Zihang?”

“Zihang doesn’t take anything personal.”

There’s a stiff knock on a door beyond the closet. “Little Sakura! You’re needed on the floor!”

Mingfei turned around, his voice squeaking loudly. “Coming!” He turned back to you. “Okay, can you walk?”

He helped you up out of bed. You were wearing a thin nightgown and your feet were a bit wobbly but you could stand on your own.

“Good, Caesar prepped some clothes for you, but I suggest you stay down here for now. I have to go back to work.”

“Work?”

More knocking. “Little Sakura?”

“Why are they calling you that?” You whisper.

Lu Mingfei growled low. “Why is my life so terrible all the time? I don’t know!” He returned his eyes to you. “Stay here okay? The Boss will be back once his shift is over.”

He hurried out of the closet. You notice he’s wearing some sort of shiny loafers. The type worn without socks.

You hear a sliding door open and then shut and then the murmur of a television. Once you were sure everything was quiet, save the very muffled beat of music somewhere above the ceiling, you venture out.

You peer out from the closet into what looked like a bathroom with wood paneled walls and a tiled floor. Three barrels with metal bottoms were suspended over wood fired stoves. A shower was in one corner. The TV in the other corner was on, likely to mask any noise you might have made while you were unconscious. A woman was sitting behind a desk, speaking Japanese, dressed in smart business attire. It looked like a newsreel of the destruction of Chizuru -- the wrecked streets, the firetrucks and the body bags.

You start to think maybe you overdid things a bit. Your eyes scan over the date. You’ve been out cold for 3 whole days.

On top of the TV was a small comb that looked to be made of real ivory and adorned with a blue jeweled flower. Underneath was an envelope with your name on it. Inside the envelope was a note. “I hope the offer of lessons over sake still stands.”

You smile. Of course it did.

Hanging behind the TV was another cheongsam, this time, silver and blue with embroidery of flowers. There’s also fishnet stockings and a pair of blue heels. You take the dress off the rack and step into the shower. Once you were dressed you listened hard to the sounds outside the hall and heard footsteps.

Another knock. And there’s a shouted warning before the door slides open. A short old woman is holding a mop and walks by you as you press yourself to the wall. She’s pulling a pile of logs on a cart. Her ears are stuffed with earbuds and she’s so focused on her work that she walks right by you on the way to the rack where the wood for the stove is held.

Heart racing, you dash out the door.

Outside is a European style promenade, completely different decor, but with the same level of luxury. The floor was covered with golden teak wood. The walls were covered with paintings of naked young people drawing water from a well. The ceiling hung with crystal chandeliers, one after another.

“Wow.” You whisper.

At the end of the corridor was an elevator with wooden doors inlaid with swirling bronze motifs of ferns. You’re supposed to stay put, but so much for that! You probably couldn’t be seen out in the hall! You pressed the only button available on the elevator - Up - and school your face cool to pretend you belong there.

Already a story is in your head, you’re an heiress to a fabulous estate. You’re orphaned at a young age and just gained your freedom to escape your stuffy household! As the elevator rises, the sound of the bassline of the music gets stronger and stronger.

Your mind is still writing your backstory when the wooden doors part and you’re hit by the bass line full force. The heat from hundreds of bouncing and gyrating bodies rushes into the elevator. Right in front of you, a man is holding up a flute of that golden sparkling liquor - Champagne. His shirt has puffy sleeves and open to reveal dark curly hairs on his muscular chest. He’s surrounded by three women in colorful half masks who are climbing on him, grabbing his hands to get at the champagne. They were all wearing skin tight, sleeveless, low cut dresses and dangerously high stiletto heels that made your demure blue cheongsam look like a formal maid’s outfit in comparison.

“Ladies! Ladies! One at a time!” He’s shouting with a brilliant smile. One of the girls bares her teeth as if she were trying to bite him and you move away.

A crowd of people, women outnumbering men 10 to 1, were all dancing in front of a brightly lit stage that was smoking with dry-ice that poured over the edge.

The elevator doors start to close and you slip out, looking for Lu Mingfei - that is, Little Sakura. Everywhere is more of the same. There’s a circular couch where drunk women were reclining over another man while holding out money for passing waiters who seem to know what it meant. They took the cash from their delicate painted fingers and passed them another bottle of liquor in exchange. All of the women turned, shook and then uncorked the bottle, spraying the Champagne in the air! It all fell in a shower while they laughed and squealed with glee!

You take a breath. You were going to stand out like a sore thumb unless you did something right now. The beat of the music was jarring your rib cage but people were bouncing to it while shouting on the stage. “Ukyo! Ukyo! Ukyo!”

You had no idea what Ukyo meant so you do the same all the while looking for any sign of Mingfei in this scene and realizing he might not even be on this floor.

“Who wants glitter?!” Someone shouts next to you. A man with a bowl of silver glitter holds it up while people stuff money in his low cut shirt and press their hands into the bowl to turn around and smash it into the sweaty chest of another man, leaving their marks on him. Your mind makes a leap to a story you heard about human and animal sacrifices in Satanism and wondering if that was what was going to happen next.

You also realize you don’t have any money. Your voice is trained by terrible punishment to be quiet so you can only let out a weak little “Woo..” and “Yay… Ukyou” while your eyes search the crowd.

What happened next was that the music suddenly ended and the sound of a Asian music, something you might hear played in a period drama, replaced it. Rather than being subdued, the crowd flooded the quiet with screams so loud your ears rattled and you had to fight to keep your hands from covering them and stand out as an outsider.

The curtain opened and there stood a lone figure on the stage. The lights all went out, leaving a single spotlight descending to illuminate him. He’s in a white cloak with flowy sleeves, with a blue hakama and long hair that covers half his face. Cherry blossoms blow from an unseen fan, fluttering his sleeves in the wind.

#Dragon Raja

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sleep-i-ness · 4 years

Text

*Let Bygones Be Bitches (Klaus Hargreeves x reader)

For @the--sad--hatter‘s Tea Party Challenge

**TRIGGER WARNING**: Substance abuse, mentions of overdose, probably swearing, glamourisation of drugs

I’m not really sure where I went with this. I also haven’t edited it but it’s something I wrote a while back for this challenge and I realised the deadline is tomorrow so I banged out the ending :)

Taglist: @neymarlionelmessi7 @persephonehemingway @blisfvll @20coldhearts

There was something so exhilaratingly freeing about drugs. No one had ever talked to you about that, school had drilled into you the terrible effects of them but as you fell into harder and harder drugs, that had been the last thing from your mind. Really, what you blamed was society. Drugs were only seen as bad if you were poor, if you were a junkie and homeless, or living in poverty. Never mind the upper classes who were almost always off their asses on cocaine; snorted off gold dishes and offered around at social gatherings. Your parents certainly had seen no problems in them; most of your childhood they were high, living life as carefree as possible. Who cared if they had a kid to look after? Well, that was what nannies were for. And you craved their attention. Their approval. So, you acted out more and more, getting kicked out of one posh private school after the other with nothing more than a warning letter from your father each time.

And so, drugs had ended up becoming an escape rather than the rebellion you had hoped to lead against the careless lifestyle of the rich. The schmoozing amongst those of your ‘kind’ was done over lines of cocaine and ever-flowing bottles of champagne, never sober enough to have to remember enduring pointless small talk. Life was too fun to bother with formalities, you and the reckless debutantes and bachelors of your age were jumping off roofs into pools and committing arson instead. And when you reached the ripe age of 21, you moved back to your childhood home, surrounded by staff and peers just like yourself, but no one who really cared. Your parents weren’t frugal to say the least, and your allowance grew each time you reached the limit. It was almost like a challenge to see how much you could spend in a month. It wasn’t like you were anywhere near close to running out.

Your town was almost a cultural phenomenon, known for being the residence of the Umbrella Academy, back in the days when they were actually a team. Not just one pitiful member left to sort out the messes by himself. You weren’t sure what had happened to anyone other than Allison, who had launched herself into super-stardom and therefore was constantly a topic of gossip when local drama was dull. Tonight, you had agreed to host your ‘friends’, who were bringing a few of their friends and you knew the place would be wrecked by the end of the night. You wished you could pretend to care about the priceless antiques and expensive imported furniture, but it was all just stuff. Stuff that could easily be replaced. It didn’t truly matter.

You awoke the next day under blinding light in an unrecognisable room, blank white walls glaringly painful. You weren’t at home, that was for sure, nowhere was decorated this hideously at home. As your vision swam into focus, you saw the IV drip hooked up to your arm and heart monitor beeping steadily. Oh fuck, you were in the hospital again. And they hadn’t even bothered to put you in your family’s private suite; you were sure to be making a complaint as soon as you got out.

“Oh good, Miss Y/L/N, you’re awake.” A nurse bustled over, and you bit back the remark that was on the tip of the tongue. You were so sure that nurses were meant to be female, but clearly not in this case. “You were brought in last night, having had a seizure with a dangerously high body temperature and heart rate.”

Oh, that would be the effects of a cocaine overdose. You knew enough about them, having both experienced them first-hand and seen others having them, to know the symptoms. You remained silent, knowing that your family’s private doctor would soon have you out of this dump in the more public area and away from prying eyes. Your parents had people working to ensure that any scandals would be hushed up, so you assumed that this was just a blip before they set you up in a place a bit more suited to your wealth.

“How are you feeling now?” The nurse asked, checking the monitor at the end of your bed, and noting down something on a clipboard.

“Absolutely wonderful,” you remarked dryly, voice hoarse, mouth dry as sandpaper.

“Good, good,” he muttered, placing the tatty clipboard back in the scratched plastic holder. Your upper lip curled; that did not look very sanitary.

The nurse strode out looking purposeful and you wondered what purpose he actually had considering that doctors were the ones who actually did any work.

As the plastic ticking of a clock and heavy breathing of the infirm filled the air, you rolled your eyes, feeling ill at the thought of all of the germs floating around you. The off-white paint was peeling in the corner, cracks running down the wall, disrupting blotchy yellow marks of discolouration. As your eyes roved over the disgusting state of the ward, the scuff marks on the blue linoleum floor caught your gaze and you held back a groan. Did they not clean the place?

“Hey,” a languid voice called from the bed next to you and you frowned, brows furrowing as you tried to figure out whether he was talking to you. “Hey, miss judgemental.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, don’t know your name.” His tone implied he didn’t even care, and you sneered, why had he even bothered to try and start a conversation? “Was I not meant to notice the disgusted looks you were giving the ward?”

“Do I know you?” He clearly wasn’t somebody you would have mixed with, eyes ringed with the remnants of a couple day’s old eyeliner and hair mussed up, strands sticking up in various directions. But there was still something that made you hesitate.

“I’m Klaus.” Klaus… That was a Scandinavian name, right? Maybe he was related to the Bengtsson twins.

“I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” You waited for the expected exclamation of awe or some form of recognition at least. There was nothing and you snuck a peek at Klaus who had merely raised an eyebrow.

“Y/L/N?” He seemed to be trying to recall something from deep in the dregs of his memory, eyes fluttering shut. “Hang on, wasn’t there a kidnapping? Something about a ransom that wasn’t paid?”

You froze.

There had been so many lawsuits and pulling of strings to ensure that that story never came out.

“How the hell do you know about that?” You hissed lowly, glancing around at the other patients who seemed fast asleep or too deaf to hear anything.

Klaus raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes, taken aback at your reaction. “What do you mean?”

“No one knows about that. No one.”

“Well, I do.” Clearly. Your breathing had sped up and your head felt light. It was all over. You were safe. You were okay. They weren’t here. Goddamn it, why wasn’t it working! The sudden bolt of anger flashed through the fog, but you were too numb to process it.

Klaus had pursed his lips, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed. Your brain marked that it was an amusing expression. “Hey, Y/N, just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, hold for 1, 2, 3, breathe out for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.”

You followed his counting, eyes squeezed shut as your ears focused in on his voice. The bustle of hospital eased out as your breathing filled your thoughts. Every breath was forced out, long but shallow as your heart pounded in your head, the beat deafening.

You gasped, suddenly realising where you knew him from. “Klaus… Hargreeves? You were there. That’s why you know.”

The crisp, starchy sheets were clean under your grip, crinkling between your fingers as you clenched your hands subconsciously. Leaning closer to him to watch his response, he nodded slowly, head slowly lifting to make eye contact. A mask had dropped, eyes showing something a lot more vulnerable.

“Yeah. That one was one of the worst.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was your fault. And you’d thought the only one affected was you.

“Parents, right?” Klaus murmured, propping himself up on one arm as he continued to watch you.

Your parents hadn’t even cared. They hadn’t bothered to pay the ransom. The kidnappers had slowly stopped bothering to even come visit you with food. Leaving you to slowly died. No one had cared.

And then the Umbrella Academy had turned up. And you’d had the hope rekindled that someone cared.

Your return to your parents had been a surprise, a ‘wonderful surprise’ as they claimed. And the hope has sunk, like a lead balloon as you realised that they hadn’t wanted you back.

“Yeah.” You nodded, knowing nothing needed to be said to explain it. “I feel like it might be a billionaire thing.”

Klaus hummed, rolling onto his back with a dramatic groan as he threw his arms into the air. He stretched out, limbs unfurling like a cat, lithe and supple. The crinkle of plastic caught your ear and you snapped your head towards him, just catching sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed quickly. He stretched out his arms and the plastic bag glinted in his hand. You grabbed it from him, gratefully swallowing the small blue pill inside.

“You know what, Klaus,” you paused, fiddling with the end of your sleeves. “I feel like we might be more similar than expected.”

He grinned, an almost maniacal twinkle in his eyes. “God, we’re such a cliché. Bonding over childhood trauma? Where’d we get that idea from? Some angsty YA novel?”

He snorted at his own joke and you couldn’t help but smile in response, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the small dimples popping in his cheeks.

Hopefully, this would follow the cliché trope right to the happy ending.

#klaus #klaus hargreeves #tua klaus #tua #the umbrella academy #tua imagine #klaus x reader #klaus x you #klaus x y/n #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves x y/n

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starryknight09 · 4 years

Text

Friendly Fire

Febuwhump Day 4: impaling

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter dodged the drone that tried to ram into him and kicked it as it passed by. It fell to the ground in a clump of metal. These things terrorizing Manhattan weren’t hard to destroy but there were so many of them the sky practically looked black. It was the Avengers first mission since they’d defeated Thanos after Captain Marvel had snapped the gauntlet. It was too bad she’d disappeared back into space a few weeks ago because they could really use her right about now.

Peter swung closer to the main battle where most of the drones seemed to be amassed. He shot out a taser web along the way taking down another five drones that were crowded too close together.

“Nice shot kid.” Tony said as he flew by.

“Thanks Mr. Stark.” He grinned under the mask and shot out another web at a drone that had ventured too close. “Is it just me or does it seem like we’re not even making a dent in these guys?”

“According to FRIDAY we’ve taken out about ten percent of them.”

“Wonderful.” Clint complained over the comms. “So at the rate we’re going, we’ll have these things cleaned up by tomorrow morning.”

He wasn’t wrong. They’d been at it for almost an hour now and the sun was about to set.

“Anyone have any bright ideas?” Rhodey asked.

“We could really use Thor right about now.” Clint said.

“Yeah well point break’s off philandering with Quill and his merry men, so we’re going to have to make due.” Tony said.

“It’s too bad we can’t just EMP them.” Peter said, all his skills being tested as he dodged drones, webbing up as many as he could and striking any that got too close.

“We’d have to take out a significant portion of New York's power, and mine and Rhodey’s suits, for that to work, so let’s try to avoid that.” Tony sniped.

“Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way then.” Clint said. Peter briefly caught sight of the archer on the top of nearby rooftop as he swung past.

To be fair, there was a lot going on, so what happened next wasn’t completely Clint’s fault. Or Peter’s.

A handful of drones attacked him simultaneously, and they were too close to use his webs. He landed a hard hit on one, but when he did, he got too close to another one and his spidey sense flared as it shot its lasers at him. He yanked hard on his web to dodge out of the way and narrowly avoided getting hit, but the moment he moved his spidey sense wailed at him. Before he could figure out why, his leg jerked. What?

“Oh shit.” Clint swore and a second later the pain hit him. His leg felt like it was on fire. He looked down at it and it took a moment for his brain to process what his eyes were seeing. One of Clint’s arrows had speared through the fleshy part of his calf.

Oh. Ow. Ow ow ow. The shock and the pain of it had distracted him enough that he’d forgotten to throw another web out to stay in the air, so now he was falling on top of bleeding. He managed to focus and fire a web onto a building, just in time to slow his descent so he skimmed across the ground and landed on his good leg without hurting himself any further. He slowly crumpled to the concrete, staring at his skewered leg stretched out in front of him. Blood leaked out and stained the pavement. The sight made him dizzy. Luckily, none of the drones seemed to have followed him.

“Uh, anyone got eyes on the kid?” Clint asked over the comms. Peter knew he’d fallen out of the archer’s line of sight.

“Why?” Tony asked immediately, and Peter could sense his tension.

“He might’ve, sort of, just a little bit, gotten in the way of one of my arrows.”

“What? You shot him?” Tony yelled.

“It was an accident!”

“Where is he? Peter!”

Oh right. He could talk. “I know how a shish kabob feels now.” He groaned. “Can’t say I’d recommend it.”

“Where are you?” Tony asked, panicking. “Never mind. I see you.”

Ironman flew toward him and landed with a clang. The helmet retracted and Peter could see the man’s eyes widen as he took him in.

“It’s not that bad.” Peter tried to reassure him.

“Not that bad. We need to work on your definition of those words. You’ve been impaled.” Tony said, crouching down to get a closer look at his leg.

“It’s just a flesh wound.” Peter said and let out a hysterical laugh. He couldn’t help it.

“Not funny.” Tony had gotten touchy about him getting hurt ever since he’d come back from the snap.

“No but seriously, it’s just the fleshy part. I think if you just pull it out it’ll be fine.”

“Pull it—” Tony stopped and took a deep breath. “You never pull it out. If you ever get stabbed or skewered or whatever you leave it in. Capiche?”

Peter nodded.

“And you’re supposed to be a genius…” Tony muttered to himself and then the next moment the helmet of his armor formed back into place. “Try to hold still kid.”

Peter frowned. “I thought we weren’t taking it out.”

“I’m not.” Tony said and one of the fingers on his armor uncapped and Tony aimed it at the arrow. A focused laser shot out of the finger and sliced off one side of the arrow, near enough to his skin that Peter felt the heat, but it didn’t burn. Tony repeated the same process on the other side so now only about an inch of arrow shaft stuck out on each side of his calf. For just hitting his leg it sure was bleeding pretty profusely. The puddle of blood under his leg had been slowly expanding. Looking at it made him feel a little ill.

Tony seemed to notice the same thing in the next moment. “Let’s get you out of here kid.” Before Peter could protest, Tony had lifted him up in his arms and taken off.

“What about the fight?” Peter asked, starting to feel lightheaded. They’d barely been winning before and now they were losing Spiderman and Ironman.

“Don’t worry about it. They’ll be fine.” Tony answered, sounding distracted.

Peter wasn’t sure he believed him, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He closed his eyes.

“Stay awake Pete.”

“I’m awake.” He responded, opening his eyes with a reluctant sigh.

The rest of the flight passed in a pain filled blur. By the time they made it to the compound he wasn’t feeling the greatest, but he was still awake, and he wasn’t crying or screaming in pain even though he kind of wanted to. Every jostle had sent sparks of agony up his leg. Who knew how much an arrow wound hurt? He had a new respect for Hawkeye and his primary weapon of choice. He never wanted to end up on the wrong end of an arrow again.

“How are you doing?” Tony asked as he deposited him on the waiting gurney on the roof. Peter gave him a weak thumbs up and the man gently pulled off his mask before they started wheeling him to the elevator.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to kill birdbrain.” Tony growled.

“Don’t.” Peter said with a wave of his hand. “It was an accident.”

“He should’ve known better than to be shooting those things so close to you.”

Peter knew it wasn’t worth arguing over. Tony was acting like an angry dad, and when he got like that, nothing Peter said would change his mind. They descended and as soon as the elevator doors opened, they pushed him into the medbay, Tony following alongside the bed. Dr. Cho was already waiting at the exact spot where they stopped and locked the bed.

“I saw the scans from FRIDAY.” Dr. Cho said, more to Tony than him, as the medical personnel started helping him out of the suit. “It should be an easy enough fix. We’ll put him under to take the arrow out and stitch up the artery and everything else, but he should be back to normal in a day or two with his healing ability.

Tony let out a relieved sigh.

“You should go back and help.” Peter suggested once he knew the injury wasn’t too severe, even though he didn’t really want Tony to leave his side. He winced as they finished carefully peeling the suit away from the arrow, guiding the ends through the holes in the suit, but unable to keep from jostling it slightly.

“I’m staying.” Tony said, adamant.

“But—”

“They’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Peter acquiesced with a sigh, hoping Tony was right. He tried to ignore the flutter of motion around him as the medical people worked, attaching an IV and all the necessary wires to him.

“Hey Mr. Stark?” Peter prompted and Tony purposely didn’t acknowledge him as he continued to stare at a monitor over Peter’s head. Peter sighed. Right. He tried again. “Hey Tony?”

“Yes?” The man looked down at him with a smirk. Peter rolled his eyes. Ever since the snap, Tony had been relentless about Peter calling him Tony instead of Mr. Stark, and Peter had been working on it, but it was a work in progress.

“When I wake up will you watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail with me?”

Tony shook his head in consternation. “You’re a menace kid.”

Peter grinned. “Is that a yes?”

“We’ll see.”

“It’s a yes.” Peter said confidently. “Because you love me.”

Tony’s eyes softened almost imperceptibly but Peter noticed it. “Sure do.” He confirmed, something Peter was pretty sure the pre-snap Tony never would’ve admitted, especially around other people, but this Tony was different. He was softer, gentler, more willing to share his emotions and show affection. Peter was still trying to adjust.

Tony ruffled his hair. “But don’t tell anyone I said so. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

Peter snorted. Ok, maybe he hadn’t completely changed.

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

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crimeronan · 4 years

Text

2020 in review

it’s been a weird year for me.

by all accounts, it Should be a bad year.

lots of bad things happened to me this year. i found places i adore in my new town - a certain cozy chair in the library, a corner table at a 24 hour coffee shop, a park bench in direct sunlight for most of the day - just in time to lose them all. i started pursuing health answers in january, only for all the hospitals to close on my birthday, rendering answers impossible to find.

i waited months for the hospitals to open again, from home, unable to pursue any of the nightlife or queer meetups or community theater i’d vowed to get involved in. eventually i found out i have scoliosis and a serious vitamin D deficiency. i hoped to get better by treating these things. instead the health problems continued, worsened. i slept through most of may and november, i had intermittent weeks where i’d sleep for 20+ hours a day and be in too much pain to get out of bed upon waking. i missed rent a few times. borrowed money too many times. relied on my loved ones way more than i’ve ever been comfortable with. (it’s the adam parrish ass in me.)

i developed a painful deformity in my leg. spent stupid amounts of time in urgent care and the ER. thought it was a dislocation due to connective tissue issues, but my x-rays came back clean. so did an ultrasound for blood clots. my doctor referred me to a dermatologist, who did a biopsy. not super pleasant considering i faint when punctured with needles, but i’d already had my blood drawn and IVs stuck in me, so whatever. found out i have an autoimmune disorder. went from the most-perceived-as-able-bodied person in my house to the one most likely to get killed by the pandemic in the span of a single phone call. might have a shortened lifespan, might not. don’t know yet. probably will know by the end of the year.

so it should be a bad year. none of this was pleasant. i’ve had spans of time where i’ve cried harder than i’ve ever cried in my life. had to keep myself from calling my mom and telling her i needed her, because i knew she’d drop her job and her responsibilities and her plans to race across the whole-ass country, and i didn’t want to do that to her

but i don’t think it was a bad year. not really.

it was my first full year living in the portland metro area. which, don’t get me wrong, deserves some of the Cringe Hippie Liberal Anarchist Moron reputation it gets. but it meant living in a city full of queer people and openly trans-friendly businesses. it meant having enough healthcare providers near me that i could actively seek out ones who could treat my complex mental and physical health issues without some of the biases i’m used to. it meant that i found an adequate psychiatrist within 10 minutes of me, an adequate primary care doctor within 20.

i used to live in rural new hampshire. i drove 70 minutes to see my psychiatrist. i never found a primary care doctor for physical health issues. i would have had to go to boston, and i don’t like driving in downtown boston. (masshole reputations are real and boston’s city planning is hell on earth.)

i also had the very strange experience of being taken seriously by every doctor i interacted with. i am not used to this. without getting too deep into it, i have been pretty badly scarred by experiences with having my autonomy violated because of my status as a psychotic individual, even though my fears were not psychosis-related. also less scarring but equally off-putting experiences with being a perceived-as-woman individual whose pain was shrugged off by men as, like, normal hysterical woman agonies. or whatever.

so, i had a leg deformity. and doctors took me seriously. because it was a visible, inexplicable symptom. and because a lot of them looked at it and thought, oh fuck, this girl is dying.

(i could still be dying, i guess. just a lot slower than they worried i was. i’m not about to keel over from a blood clot or from my rotting bones decaying into my bloodstream.)

this has gone a long way toward alleviating my intrinsic fear of doctors. being SICK is scary, sure, but it’s odd to be able to (cautiously) expect that doctors will try to help me instead of hurt me.

it was also my first full year living in an apartment of my own, with the family i chose. my first full year of having my own space that i built. my first full year of being independent, aside from the times i wasn’t. my first full year of interacting exclusively with people who make me feel happy and loved instead of people who drain me. and i felt better, mentally, than i have in a long time.

which is reflected in my creative work. this was my most creative year in... ever, i think? even though i was so sick and slept through so much of it. even though the pandemic kept me from seeking out inspirational experiences. i made a lot of fandom friends & got closer to friends i met last year. i got a lot more confident in writing what i wanted to and talking about what i wanted to and not worrying about pleasing anyone but myself.

i published over 150k words of fanfic. the vast majority of it was exploring feelings about chronic illness. i outlined an original fiction project from beginning to end, added about 30k words to it. i started fucking around with digital art a bit, although i have nothing even Remotely worth showing people. i gained something like 900 tumblr followers from a combination of shitposting and earnestly talking about my feelings re: chronic illness, mental health, fictional meta. i gave some ppl life advice that i guess was helpful. apparently i inspired some people to survive the year, which is very weird to think about, but also very nice.

so, uh. that’s my year i guess. should be bad, but it wasn’t. dunno how to conclude this so i will simply say: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#long post #year in review #autoimmune tag #my writing

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pbandjesse · 3 years

Text

Today was wonderful but I also got pretty bad sunburn on my arms and chest and back. Oops.

I slept good, though it was very hard for me to fall asleep. I took a melatonin and was able to sleep well after that. I woke up with my alarm at 730 and while I wasn't super excited to get up I did and soon I was ready for the beach!!

I loved my dress. I wore my bathing suit under it. James looked super cute in their yellow button down to match me. Love them. We had a long drive to Rohobeth Beach. I have never gone and I was excited!

It was an absolutely beautiful day. Here in Baltimore it apparently rained most of the day. But it was 85 and sunny at the beach.

The drive out was nice. It was about 2 and a half hours. We had excellent music and lots of laughs. It was a good day.

Getting closer to the beach we had some traffic. But we weren't in a rush. It was about 1030 and I am glad we left when we did because parking, it seems, is at a premium there.

We parked at the end of the beach where the state park is. But I wanted to be close to the boardwalk. Mostly so we wouldn't be to far from th bathrooms. We got all our stuff and headed out.

I honestly have always hated having to much stuff at the beach. Even when I was a kid. I found it like super cringey to have like a ton of stuff. So even us just each having a backpack and a chair each and our small cooler. That is on the edge of the cringe precipis.

We found the bathrooms. Didnt have to wait to long. I put on sun screen and talked to some girls outside the bathrooms while I waited for James.

We walked to the beach and set up but then I realized we couldn't see the water so we moved everything closer. There were a lot of people. It wasn't like. Unreasonable but there were a lot of people and a lot of umbrellas. Our little one tried to escape at one point but it was okay. I held on to it.

But what I wanted was to be in the water!!! Which was a little chilly when you first got in, it was actually like the perfect temperature. It was amazing. The sand was soft. There weren't many shells so I didn't collect any. But I would spend so much time just in the water enjoying the waves.

James did join me a bit! They are scared of the ocean but they came in with me twice and it was a lot of fun bouncing with them and laughing. I had an excellent time with them.

When they left to go sit in the sun for a while I ended up having a fun talk to a woman who wanted to know all about my tattoos and we ended up talking for like a half hour and we were body surfing on the waves together and laughing. I felt like a little kid making a friend at the beach who Ill never see again but it was super cute.

I hadn't eaten breakfast or anything so I decided to go have a snack and read with James for a bit. I did reapply my sunscreen on my legs but I didn't on my top half like a fool!!!

Around 1 we would take our backpacks (left our stuff) and went up to the boardwalk to get a pizza. Which took a bit but it was good! A little more sauce then I want normally but its all good. I enjoyed people watching and eating and it was good.

James has insisted that I share that there was a boat. That has Trump written on the side. And had an LCD screen with text, misspelled, just with different alt right talking points. It was just really sad. Like what else could they be doing with their Sunday afternoon. It was disappointing but also like. Your life probably sucks if that's all you can think to do with your boat?? Boring.

I enjoyed being in the water for a while. James came too. We were on the beach for almost 4 hours and it was just great. But I sort of felt done. I wanted to explore the boardwalk too. Even if I was afraid of being to hot. But we packed up our set up and headed back to the car.

It was the middle of the afternoon at this point. We both got changed at the car. I had more sand in my suit then I had hoped. But whatever. I felt bad because people kept coming to our car to ask if we were leaving because there is. No parking at this point in the day. On Labor Day weekend. But we had paid for like 6 more hours so we weren't leaving yet.

We walked the boardwalk. It is pretty small compared to a lot of places Ive been. But it was a really nice place! I played a few claw machine games. Won on my first go! Got this cute little puppy. I didn't win any others but I was very surprised to see how many squishmallows were in the claw machines. And really this was a very affordable boardwalk overall. The claw machines were $1 or less. The only disappointment I had was the photobooth didn't work. But its okay. We took lots of other pictures.

We walked all over. Went to their little ride attraction place called Fun Land. And I insisted on us going to the Haunted House ride and for real this was one of the best ones I have gone on! It was like a ride one and it was a little neon inside but it was really good!! I sort of wish we got the stupid picture at the end but I got a great laugh out of it because our eyes were so big we got startled. It was great.

James did so many things that made them scared today. And they did it because they love me! And that makes me so happy.

We finished the day going to their little town square. We saw a bride and groom taking pictures!! We got a very sour (positive!!) strawberry lemonade, and then we got sandwiches at five guys. No fries or anything. Just the sandwiches and then it was time to go home.

We loaded up the car and made sure we had drinks and then we were off.

It wasn't a bad drive home. Just long. We had a story podcast we have been working through. I thought I would fall asleep but I didn't. Mostly because my skin hurt. My legs didn't burn but my arms, my back, and my chest is very very red. And it started hurting more and more as the hours have gone on.

When we did finally get home it was sort of raining still. We brought our stuff up and I put things away. James decided to go to 711 to stretch their legs and I took a black tea bath to try to help my poor skin.

I put aloe on and it helped but I am a little hot to the touch. I put a hoodie on because I thought at least the fabric would feel nice. And I am right but also afraid of being to warm later. Well see what happens I guess.

I had some soup. James came home and helped me put aloe on my back. An went to play a video game with their friends. And I iced my skin. But now I very much want to go to sleep.

Tomorrow is Labor Day. Not that is actually means much anymore. James is working still. I am going to do my styling work and some art. I would like to start deep cleaning our rooms. I think maybe I will pick one every day? And just take everything away from the walls and such and really attack the spaces. But I know I really need mental energy for that took. So we will see what happens.

I hope you all sleep good tonight. Take care of yourselves! Goodnight!!

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protecc-draal · 3 years

Text

liveblog from halfway point of the movie

cw strong language

rott liveblog

again I start putting things down halfway done but anyway

ive decided that blinky was charlie’s ex

aja is easily the alpha of the entire group her back is hurting from carrying everyone

FUCK HIM UP AJA

why does skrael look so stylish what

OHHH SHIT NOMURA

F U C K SHE DEAD

atleast she and draal can be reunited

OH COME ON STRICKLER YOU DRAMATIC ASS, WHAT HAPPENED TO BEST MAN MY ASS

this isnt as emotional as I thought it would be

strickler: explodes

skrael: oh no! anyway

that was so unecessary there was no point in that death, it was just an excuse to kill him off

strickler was so damn useless in this movie?? they really did him wrong holy shit this movie sucks so far

at least nomura’s death made poetic sense, but what for reason to kill off both of jim’s father figures?? what kind of fucked up theme does that give off

if they kill off blinky, then I dont know what the point of the movie is LMAO this is some kind of fucked up joke or smn

and sk the government keeps interfering into shit they cannot handle

BELLROC

HI THEY

HIII THEEYYYYYY

HOLY FUCK THEY LOOK SO DECADENTTTT

SKRAEL CAN FUCK OFF I DONT CARE IF BELLROC KILLS OFF BLINKY

varvatos: I am gun robot

bellroc: tf

im calling it now varvatos is gonna be another useless death, what did I expect from tales of arcadia

but this music FUCKS its amazing

oh yeah, its all coming together, one death per demigod

ok, hes alright

OH SHIT BLOOD, that burn looks awful

I have a strong feeling charlie will die because of how hes helping them, rott really said that dads dont have rights

ok douxie good job now just do that with bell and skrael

FUCK HIM UP NARI

why does skrael sound like a damn rat

oh shit naris about to go apeshit

damn they rlly kilt each other

yall werent joking when you said there was going to be a lot of death

I was expecting jim to pull excalibur as predictable it was, but I hope claire or toby. ANYONE but steve oh my god

I STILL cannot get over this fucking steve childbirth sideplot, what the FUCK were they thinking. anyway im convinced that aja and eli came to some sort of agreement pertaining their relationship with steve im not taking criticism

man rott is such a well put together fan animation am I right?? 😍😍😍 not canon at all

honestly the “her perch” comment sounds like a one off thing but not my spot to tell

“my virgin eyes” is absolutely NOT something I thought id hear in this movie

oh damn hi bellroc h-hi there 😳👉👈

jim bellroc will split your ass clean in half your little blade aint shit

oh shit toby redeem?? pog????????

man I wish that bellroc would monologue over MY dying body

jim you aint shit fight white boy fight

holy fucking shit its so late at night bellroc is looking like a whole ass meal in this movie you dont understand how im feeling rn

oh for fucks sake of course the amulet ends up being the god killing fix it all

try your best bb bellroc im with you till the end

alright I gotta admit, jim grabbing bell was some hotboy shit

you scored one on that

welp goodbye bellroc you had the most badass death of all your peers. let’s see, elsa frozen statue? mr stark I dont feel so good? no, explode into a blast of lava. bravo. chef kiss.

im so surprised that blinky didnt die????? all of us were like blinkys gonna die

ELI JR ive decided they’re poly there is NOTHING thats going to stop me

can I just say that steve’s fucked up hair is giving me life he should have that hair more often

oh fuck toby

OH FUCK TOBY

OHHHHHH FUCK TOBY

RIGHT AFTER YOU REDEEMED YOURSELF BOYYYYYYY

HOLY SHIT

BE A GAG FOR ONC

BE A JOKE FOR ONCE COME ON

FAKE YOUR DEATH PLEASE

FOR GOODNESS SAKE

hesus christ none of us were fucking prepared for these deaths oh my GOD

I shoudve expected this when trollhunters literally ended with troll jim

holy fucking sjit

are you kidding me

come on you funky green sphere

go ahead revive strickler :) ill wait

theres 13 minutes left in the movie come on you got this jim

alright fic writers get started in thise time loop aus where jim watches his friends die over and over again

I find it funny that we all said that blinky would die but everyone BUT blinky died lmao

hang on, is he going back fr? damn fr??

are you kidding me

*boxman voice* here we go again

TOBY of course this was going to work

STRICKLERRRRRRR IM CRYIN CAT EYES

this is exactly like thise time travel fix it aus but canon

WAIT ANGOR ROT AND DRAAL ARE ALIVE IN THIS NOW AHHH WE WIN WE WINNNNNNNN MOVIES OVER EVERYONE

BEST MOVIE EVER

toby trollhunter pog???? TOBY TROLLHUNTER POG??????????? HOLY FUCKKKKKKKK THIS IS HAPPENING MVP YOU ENDED UP BEING USEFUL AFTER ALL

FANTASTIC WONDERFUL EVERYTHING WE EVER WANTED HAPPENED FUCK YOU

wait please tell me that the timeline jim left didnt get magically erase like the deaths suck but I lowkey want to keep the steliaja ot3 ngl it’s very big brain

anyway im just a shallow casual toa fan who doesnt have the energy to go into deep analysis or criticism, my mind is literally so tired it’s like 4 am and the only thing I can process atm is time travel fix it fic but its canon and my fried brain thinks the movie’s pretty good for now

#rise of the titans spoilers #tales of arcadia spoilers #toa spoilers #in which I heavily simp for bellroc #ill definitely wake up later and realise how shit the movie is but just #let me have my hopes and dreams back for now

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radiojamming · 4 years

Note

Can you tell us anything more about John Hartnell's time on the Voltage?

Hell yeah, I can! I have some pictures from the log books I can post later, too. I legit sat for H O U R S reading tiny handwriting from the master’s logs. Most of the logs were lists of chores, punishments, notes on the weather, and any major events. John’s time on the Volage can be divided pretty neatly in half, between the ship’s North American tour, and its Irish Sea patrol, all between 1841-45.

The North American part was probably pretty exciting for him, considering that he’d been a shoemaker since he was thirteen years old. Compared to what his brother had been up to on the Volage (the Aden Expedition, Battle of Chuenpi, etc.), it focused less on military ventures and more on transportation and patrol. The first major thing it did was in December of 1841, when it accompanied the HMS Warspite and HMS Thalia in taking the King of Prussia, Frederick William IV to England to attend the christening of the Prince of Wales. After that, it scurried over to Plymouth to get new fittings, and then took off for the Caribbean.

A lot happened in the Caribbean, and reading through the log books (always written in very non-emotional language, but still entertaining) paints a very eclectic picture of their activities. The Volage went to Jamaica first, awaiting orders until they were ordered to go to Saint Martha to pick up... $800,000 in gold. Legit, that sat on the Volage for two months until they dropped it off in Port Royal. By then, half the crew was incredibly ill with a mix of diseases including what might have been dysentery. Amazingly, for all of John’s terrible luck, he doesn’t appear on the sick list, even as one of the lieutenant’s eventually died as well as the clerk.

They scurried back and forth across the Caribbean from January of 1842 until they departed for Halifax, Nova Scotia later that summer. (Land of @theiceandbones!) In all honesty, the Volage didn’t get up to much during it’s time in Halifax. They didn’t necessarily have a mission, but it does make for some really entertaining reading! There was a lot of shore leave, for instance. Here are some of the notes I wrote on my read-through between the Caribbean and Halifax (which is from ADM 54/312):

Mondays and Fridays are mandatory clothes-washing days.

8th of July 1842 - “Punished Michael Logan with 48 [!] lashes for Disobedience of Orders and Insolence”

12th of July 1842, 6pm - “Committed to the deep the Body of Samuel Marvin (AB) Deceased.” / “Departed this life William Baillie (boy) - Buried at sea on the 13th.”

18th of July 1842, 10:50 pm - “Heard the report of several Guns from the North” [in Halifax]

20th of July 1842 - Halifax Citadel visit and the burial of Robert Webb (boy), Samuel Gibbon, John Barnes, and Samuel Brummage (carpenter’s mate) on shore

Godden reports that several warm nights, sailors were permitted to use their hammocks and sleep on the beach! (I put a smiley face next to my note here!)

Most of their Halifax mooring was spent cleaning. Lots of repainting, holystoning, repairing, etc.

Multiple discharges for “uselessness” and “disgrace”.

The latter note is really interesting, considering that none other than Charles Dickens visited Halifax that same year, and made note of sailors making total idiots out of themselves on oysters and champagne. Indeed, there are plenty of punishments recorded for that summer for drunkenness, insubordination, and desertion, again sometimes up to 48 lashes. (I’ll post a picture of the log just to confirm that.) On a high note, John Hartnell wasn’t punished once! And believe me, I looked!

They did have to have some repair work done to fix a leak in October before scurrying back down south with the “Squadron”. Godden makes some pretty boring notes about looking at the United States coast (as in essentially saying, “Yep, there it is!”) before they hang tight to the coast of Mexico.

The Volage appears to have been outfitted for doing survey work, which is part of what they did for the next few months. Between that, mooring for absolutely nothing, and hanging out with slave ship hunters (I like to think they high-fived the HMS Racer at some point) their zig-zag order of ports of call are:

Barbados > Puerto Rico > Grenada > St. Vincent > Jamaica > St. Lucie > Antigua > Jamaica (long-term Port Royal mooring) > Haiti

By early 1843, the Volage was headed back home. They docked in Plymouth for a time before getting their next orders for the Admiralty for the apparently much-maligned Irish Sea duty. At this point, Captain William Dickson had a temporary replacement for the deceased Lt. Davey, but eventually, that lieutenant had to leave as well. Captain Dickson did get a note from the Admiralty that he was to get his replacement at the Cove of Cork, and according to the sudden burst of tiny handwriting at the bottom of the page on Tuesday, August 29th, 1843, Captain Dickson totally forgot about that. Literally, the note for the day is kind of falling off the page from squeezing it in, but reads: “Read the Commission of Lieut J Irving”.

Because Lieutenant John Irving hopped on board as a new replacement, thus using those sweet, sweet letters of his to describe the next few months. He was absolutely meticulous about dating his letters, and having them on hand in his memoir made it easy to line up with Godden’s notes in the master’s log, confirming everything between the two of them. This time, Irish patrol got kind of exciting.

First, here’s Irving talking about joining the Volage, saying much nicer things about Capt. Dickson considering the captain was probably going, “Oh shit right I forgot we were doing this.”

“To my great joy I found the ‘Volage’ at anchor here. I was afraid she might have gone somewhere else. I went on board direct from the steamer, and was introduced to Sir William Dickson, the Captain; rigged myself in a blue coat and a pair of epaulettes; the hands were turned up, and the Captain read my commission appointing me lieutenant of the ship to the ship’s company. There are three of us. I am the second in seniority. Our mess consists of seven--viz., three lieutenants, one master, surgeon, a lieutenant of marines. They are all very good fellows. I was three years messmate of one of them in a former ship, so am comfortable in that respect.”

Irving noted that the officers were frequently invited to parties in Cork (”I could be at parties every day if I liked;”), and Godden does say that the rest of the crew were given shore leave fairly frequently, even though they didn’t have enough officers to allow them to leave as often.

For the next four months, the Volage remained at Cork, doing patrol with several other man-of-war’s. On land, there were frequent clashes between the Protestants and the Catholics, but more importantly, there were the Repealers following Daniel O’Connell’s urging to repeal the Acts of the Union and re-establish the independent Kingdom of Ireland. Between Irving and Godden, the image of this time from the perspective of the Volage is one of a lot of bloody rumors and high tension (a Protestant curate was killed, houses were being burned down). However, O’Connell’s followers were very civil to the sailors and actually invited some of the Volage officers to visit their homes. Irving called their hospitality “quite Highland”.

The Volage was temporarily relieved of its patrol in December, and returned to Plymouth by January of 1844 for refitting and repair work after shearing off part of her keel. Godden and Irving both noted that sailors and officers were boarded on a hulk, or a non-sailing ship. Godden also noted that several sailors were permitted leave to go visiting nearby. (John Hartnell did have family in Plymouth, and Thomas Hartnell may have been visiting the area at the same time, if a pet theory of mine holds up.)

They were back in the Cove of Cork by February, with the Volage now as the flagship. During a period between February and June, the Volage frequently made trips between Cork and the town of Bantry, after further pro-Repealer agitation began to raise tensions once more. Godden’s log doesn’t say much on the subject aside from weather reports and notes on officers leaving the ship to attend parties, major gatherings in town (there’s a really interesting bit from Irving on scaring the bejeezus out of a group of paraders and stealing the Waterford city flag), and switching out officers. However, the tensions once again didn’t amount to much more than far-off reports of violence and a few observations of pissed-off “pisantry”. The Volage did return to Plymouth for Christmas before returning for a short turn in Cork, and then being paid off completely. The log for that topic shows that John Hartnell was paid off on February 1st, 1845.

As far as what life would have been like for John Hartnell on the Volage, it’s hard to say for sure since, once again, Godden’s logs are impersonal. However, he was responsible for recording all punishments, injuries, illnesses, and deaths, of which there was no lack. He also kept meticulous note of what chores were to be done on particular days, as well as drills. I noticed there was a lot of repetition in the chore schedule, and there was a slight uptick in sailors suddenly taking ill with “unknown” illnesses about two and a half years in, especially on days that had chores requiring a little more elbow grease.

But I think, as I said, this would have been very exciting for someone like John. After all, he voluntarily signed up for the Erebus four months after signing off on the Volage. Unfortunately, we don’t have any letters to or from him that might hint to how he felt during this time, so we have to take it from his actions rather than his words. I like to think he enjoyed himself.

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mrsbhandari · 4 years

Text

Shutter - pt 6

a/n: THIS SHIT TOOK SO DAMN LONG AND IM SORRY ive just been dealing with people moving and going out to do stuff and having little motivation to actually write so im VERY sorry that this took years. also, this chapter is way more nsfw than my other chaps so it is of course inspired by @lxdy-starfury‘s absolutely BEAUTIFUL nsfw art so plsssssss check that out because she’s incredible. also this is the last part of this main series, who knows, if people ask or I feel like it ill write more in this au for this pairing. well see!! for now im happy to completely finish it

also I know that my masterlist is fucky rn, im looking for the time to fix it, so if you want to see a specific fic or even all my fics for a specific pairing or book, don’t hesitate to message me or send me an ask!! im happy to point yall in the right direction, and when its not a request, I usually get to asks pretty quickly so yeah!!

words: 3.7k

warnings: unwanted advances, nsfw at the endddd

tagging: @lxdy-starfury, @huntress1024, @anotherbeingsworld, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @chaotic-ramsay-queen, @brycemaloliver

Tyril was letting his PhD go to waste. He was letting it all go to waste because his brain was pouring out of his ears as his eyes took in the purely magnificent sight of Naexi in that skin tight purple dress, hugging every curve just right and accentuating her breasts with a low V neckline. The way the fabric moved with her every step was captivating, drawing his attention to every little piece of her body, tantalizingly revealed and taunting him.

“You’re going to catch flies, Tyril.” She was fumbling with her clutch, checking to make sure that her phone fit inside and then turning around to grab something else. This new angle gave him a perfect view of her backside, filling out the dress as if it was made for her. In all honesty, his sharp tuxedo had caught her eye as well, but the large field of crimson spread across his cheeks and nose was a reminder of how much better she was at holding her feelings about Tyril in. Tyril, however, could barely keep his hands to himself in her room, in the living room, in the kitchen, and on the drive over to the gala.

“Of course you own a stupidly expensive car.” Naexi ran her hands over the smooth leather seats and the crisp finish of the wood on the dashboard. The car was clean, making her feel like if she continued to touch anything, her fingerprints would forever ruin the surfaces.

“It’s a nice car.” His hand was on her thigh, covered by the fabric of the dress but no doubt covered in faded love bites meticulously placed by Tyril. She only hummed her response, briefly distracted by the way his thumb was rubbing circles on her inner thigh, spindly fingers inching toward her core as if it was magnetized. His inability to draw his hand away suggested that he was most definitely not thinking about the car. She only hummed, insistent on keeping any gratification he was giving her to herself; it only encouraged him to drag his fingers over the apex of her thighs, her core only separated from his fingertips by two flimsy pieces of fabric.

“You better not crash it,” she teased, still stoic. Quickly, Tyril figured out that continuing his current path was only going to hurt him in the long run, so he ran a finger back down to her knee as they arrived at the large hall his father had booked for the gala. He knew that this night was already going to be one of schmoozing and torture, but he still barely looked forward to it since he knew Naexi would be at his side.

“Hey, elf boy!” a voice called to his left as he gave his keys to the valet with a hefty tip. Naexi turned and was met with a man a few inches shorter than her with wavy brown hair and a smile that betrayed that he was up to no good.

“I told you not to call me that, you rogue,” Tyril grumbled, begrudgingly clasping hands with the man and patting his back as he was pulled into a hug.

“You can’t just say that people think you’re an elf in an interview and then expect not to be called elf boy,” he reasoned, sending a wink Naexi’s way. “I’m Mal Volari, and you’re gorgeous.” He gently took her hand in his and pressed his lips to the back of it, never breaking eye contact.

“Mal…” Tyril cautioned, palm spreading protectively over his girlfriend’s side.

“Don’t worry, Ty.” She tamely ran her fingers through the hair that fell so gracefully over his ears, hiding the blush that had started to touch the barely pointed tops of them. Mal smiled knowingly. “I’m Naexi, Tyril’s date.”

“I’ve heard much about you.” They began walking into the gala, all gold finishing and sparkling diamonds adorning the necks and hands of New York’s elite, and Naexi couldn’t help but feel completely out of place. Mal rambled on at her side, so she took advantage of his distraction to whisper to Tyril, who already looked bored.

“This is weird.”

“Indeed,” he murmured, his deep baritone accompanying the words quite nicely. Already, people were beginning to stare as they made the rounds, hopping from rich group to rich group. Mal had abandoned them to camp at the open bar.

“Why do people look at me like that?”

“I apologize, it’s my fault. I’ve not had a date to one of these things in quite some time.” They had sat at one of the tables, a glass of champagne in each of their hands as they took a break from socializing.

“Ah, yes; the elusive bachelor Tyril Starfury.” She threw her hand out in the air to indicate a headline. He smiled.

“I don’t know how I ever got through one of these things without you.”

“Mal never helped? Or Imtura?”

“Imtura always takes her job as security seriously and Mal enjoys the expensive champagne my father orders.” Tyril nodded his head at where his friend was gesturing wildly, no doubt telling a story of his travels to a handsome man with a starry look in his eyes. “As well as the company these events attract.”

“Will I get to meet your father?” The question threw Tyril off his balance, but he quickly recovered.

“Well, he usually finds me along with my sister so--”

“Big brother!” Two pale arms wrapped around Tyril’s shoulders and squeezed, holding him close. His eyes lit up as the woman behind him kissed his cheek. “Staying as asocial as always, I see.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Not for your company, no.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Naexi’s, as piercing as her brother’s but leagues warmer. “You’re Naexi? I’ve seen your work. You’re very good.”

She smiled as she responded. “Really? That means so much, thank you. You must be Adrina.” She stuck her hand out, but exclaimed a small “oh!” when Adrina pulled her up from the chair to give her a hug.

“Everyone’s here for my father, so I’m allowed to break stuffy old etiquette.” Her laugh was light and airy, like a sweet breeze on a summer day. A man with Tyril’s pale skin and dark hair appeared behind her, posture straight and face neutral. Tyril stood quickly, taking his place in front of his father and next to Naexi.

“Hello, Father.”

“Tyril! I’m glad to see that you found a date in time.” His tone was one of pride that barely hid the small element of surprise.

“Yes, this is Naexi.” The feeling of Tyril’s warm grip on her waist was already enough to make her knees buckle, but she forced herself to stay upright to shake his father’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Your gala is truly beautiful.”

“What else do we ever expect from the famed Valir Starfury?” a smooth voice sounded from her right, and her head quickly swiveled to see who it belonged to. The man’s smile was friendly and inviting, but upon closer inspection, the feeling never reached his eyes. His mop of curly hair was perfectly styled to make him look boyish, but with the way Tyril’s grip tightened ever-so-slightly, Naexi knew something was off.

“Aerin.”

“Tyril, is that how you greet an old friend?” Aerin laughed, sloshing his champagne in its glass. He turned a predatory gaze on her. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a date, Ty.” The man next to her stood completely still, his eyes narrowed. “Who was the last...Kaya?”

“And your point?” Tyril’s response was sharp enough to make Adrina take the smallest step toward him. Aerin continued to stare at Naexi while addressing Tyril.

“You sure know how to pick them, hm? You have a keen eye for beauty.” Aerin winked, but it made Naexi’s heart flutter and skin crawl. She shifted in her heels, ignoring the pain in her feet. There was palpable tension in the air between the five of them, suffocating and humid. Naexi racked her brain to find some way to cut it.

“I have to use the restroom.” The statement came off far louder than she intended, but it still did the trick. Aerin blinked, taken aback by her exclamation, and Adrina surged forward to take hold of her wrist, pulling her away from her brother and through the crowd of high rollers.

“I’ll take you!” Adrina said, hoping that the men would get the hint. As soon as they were out of earshot, she let out a sigh. “Thank goodness you got us out of that one. I’ve never been more grateful for girl code.”

“Who was that? He was charming but…”

“Sleazy? Yeah, you’re not the only one. That’s Aerin Valleros, heir to WhiteTower Corporations. He acts like he’s the best thing since sliced bread, but he’s been in more scandals than I can count.” Adrina visibly shuddered. “He’s creepy.”

“Didn’t he assault his brother or something?” Naexi asked, remembering the name popping up in one of the numerous headlines Nia sent her a while back.

“Yup, they fought over who was going to take over the company. Beat him so bad that his brother stepped down.”

“Holy shit.” They had reached a wall next to the opening for the bathroom, so they stood outside and leaned against it to talk. “Everyone here is insane.”

“Yeah, I feel kind of bad for leaving Tyril with him.”

“What’s their beef?” Adrina sent a wide-eyed glance to Naexi.

“People really say that?” She let out a delighted laugh. “I love that! Anyway, Tyril used to be engaged to this girl Kaya, but she cheated on him with Aerin and they planned to take over the Starfury company together.” She grabbed a glass of champagne off a passing tray and took a long sip. “But then her assistant leaked information to the press and she disappeared.”

“Do you guys live in a Lifetime movie?”

“Pretty much,” Adrina sighed, seemingly searching for someone in the crowd in front of them.

“Did you come here with a date?” Adrina hummed her answer and Naexi gently nudged her bare arm. “Go find them. I’ll be fine here.”

“You sure?”

“Go on!” Naexi waved her hands to shoo her off and leaned back against the wall to sip her champagne. Just as she was about to go find Tyril, a sultry voice and a large hand on her forearm held her in place.

“Hello.” Aerin was polite, but kept his hand on her. She felt goosebumps rise along the back of her neck and Adrina’s explanation of who he was repeated in her mind.

“Hi.”

“I apologize for the uncomfortable situation earlier. I’m afraid Tyril and I aren’t on the best of terms.” He seemed genuinely concerned, and for the briefest second, Naexi felt her guard fall.

“Should I be the one you’re apologizing to?” Her champagne barely stayed in her glass as he slammed his hand onto the wall behind her, bringing his face close to hers and smirking when she backed up to the hard surface. No one around her seemed to notice.

“You’re quick. It’s attractive. Do you think I’m attractive?”

“Trapping a woman because you can’t get her to come to you isn’t attractive,” Naexi drawled, keeping her gaze locked on his. He was simmering and dangerous; one wrong move could make him boil over, but she figured that he had more to lose than a random photographer here as a plus-one.

“What does Tyril have that I don’t?” At this, his breath cascaded over her face, and she didn’t know what he had been drinking all night, but it certainly wasn’t the expensive, barely alcoholic bubbles that were being passed around.

“Better alcohol tolerance, for one.” She winced as he laughed.

“Funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.” Before she could speak again, Aerin gave a yelp as his tuxedo was yanked back, making him stumble into Tyril, who caught him easily.

“It’s time for you to leave, Aerin.” People were finally beginning to stare as Tyril walked Aerin out, who was mumbling about his kingdom. Naexi followed, easily hailing a taxi and pushing the drunk man into the back seat with a purposeful shove. The night was cold, and she turned to walk back inside when she felt a tug on her wrist. Looking back, she saw Tyril with his cold, slender fingers against her skin. “I don’t want to go back in.”

“Wanna head to your place?”

“Desperately,” he breathed, pulling her close to him and handing his ticket and a tip to the valet. His hand was wrapped around her waist exactly how it had been for the entire night, but this time felt different. His hands were always cold, but his touch was burning with a promise, which he kept as soon as they shut the door to his apartment.

His kisses were always encompassing, as if he captured every atom of her being between the seam of his lips, his teeth grazing every thought in her mind and his fingers brushing her soul. His movements were deliberate as he walked her backwards to his bedroom, slipping her dress off and letting it pool on the floor next to the sleek coffee table. She was more hurried, eagerly tugging his jacket off and tossing it in the hallway. Finally, they reached his room, vast and cold but slowly thawing. A well-placed kiss to his now-exposed collarbone had him gasping.

“Please…” he breathed, falling back onto the bed by himself as she stayed standing above him. She looked down on him, studying the way his chest rose and fell so quickly and the way his lips were ever-so-slightly parted, caught in the guarantee of pleasure that was soon to come. He gazed at her as if she was the only person left for him in the world.

He made her believe it.

“Tell me what you want, Tyril.” His words seemed to get caught in his throat as she, bare and only clad in a thin pair of black panties, got onto her knees on the bed and straddled him, already moving to unbutton his fancy shirt and pants. She could feel him hardening beneath her and gave an experimental grind, pulling out a low moan from his chest. His hands were loosely placed on her hips, but they traveled down to stroke her thighs.

“Please,” he repeated, sitting up to shrug off his shirt and unintentionally hitting his forehead on her collarbone.

“What, baby?” she asked, picking his head up and tilting his face to look up at her above him. His eyes were nearly shut and his lips were swollen, and she gave him a small simper. “Use your words.”

“I…” he trailed off, struggling to voice it. “I want you to suck my cock, Naexi.” She pressed a kiss to his lips and climbed off him, pulling him up to stand and kneeling in front of him. His hands immediately found her hair, tangling in the long locks as she pulled his pants down and fished his cock out of his fancy boxers. He opened his mouth to say something, but all thought left his mind as she wrapped her lips around his head and sucked, flicking her tongue around the tip. “Ah!” he yelped, eyes rolling back as his hand tightened in her hair. She briefly took her mouth away and settled for just her lips against him, and he whined in displeasure. “P-please--ooh--don’t tease me…” She took him in deeper until he teased the back of her throat, and he risked a glance down at her.

Naexi was looking directly into his eyes, studying his reaction and flicking her tongue accordingly. The sight of her green eyes brimming with tears as she took him was nearly enough to make him come, and she sensed it in the slight scratch of his fingernails against her scalp.

“You take my cock so well, Naexi,” he breathed, and she moaned around him. Letting out a shaky breath, he tapped once against her head. “I’m so close.” Instead of pulling away, she pushed his cock further down her throat and ran her tongue along a prominent vein along the underside of his shaft, pushing him over the edge. He let out a long groan as she swallowed him down, running her hands up and down his sides to both soothe him and keep him from stumbling. She stood and gave him a bright smile, raising herself to her tiptoes (even though she didn’t need to) and pressing her lips to his. He eagerly returned the favor, pulling away only to allow his lips to burn a path down her throat. He reached her collarbone, but stopped suddenly with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Everything okay?” Naexi asked, searching his face in concern.

“You--” Tyril started, but stopped, pursing his lips in disapproval. “You smell like him.”

“Aerin?” Her head was cocked, but her eyes widened when his own darkened.

His voice was low and made her heart race. “Don’t say his name.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, casting her eyes downward and fiddling with her hands. Sighing, he nuzzled the crook of her neck, placing kisses and small bites on the flesh he found there.

“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful with him. He sees a beautiful woman and loses all ability to think.” His hands flew to her hips to pull her closer to him when she gasped at his teeth on her skin. “The fact that you’re mine only made him crazier.”

“Yours?” She reached under his chin to bring his face up to hers, glancing down at his lips and then back up at his eyes.

“I’m--I meant you were my date, not mine, you’re not property--I just meant--” he stammered, taking a step back before realizing that the bed was close behind him. He lost his balance, falling back against the bed with a loud cry and frowning when Naexi snorted, barely containing her laughter at him. Instead of tugging him back up, she climbed on top of him again, letting her hair fall into his face as she looked down at how pretty his own locks were splayed out against the bed.

“Don’t worry, Ty, I like it.”

“You do?”

“I like being yours…” She pressed a kiss to the right side of his neck. “...and only yours…” She switched to his left. “No one else’s.” She placed a final kiss to his lips, one that he prolonged as he followed her when she tried to break it. “So greedy.”

“I can’t help it,” he breathed, giving a small squeeze to her hips. “I hated watching him put his hands on you.”

“Then how about you put your hands on me?” He smirked as she yelped at his quick movement to flip them over, pinning her to the bed by her wrists. Tyril immediately released her and ran his fingertips down her arms and stopped at her breasts, electing to switch to his mouth. With his left hand, he kneaded her flesh in his palm and took her right nipple in between his lips, flicking his tongue to mirror her movements from when she deepthroated him. His right hand continued downward until his index finger was circling her clit and entering her easily with the help of her own arousal. “Yes!” she gasped, back arching to push her body even closer to his. His finger pumped in and out of her, curling every so often and making him smile as she moaned louder and louder the closer she got to climax. He rushed the process by adding his middle finger and curling, hitting her sweet spot inside while rubbing her clit with his thumb.

“Come on, Naexi, let go for me.” She responded with a wail as she came, hands clutching the sheets and legs shaking. He continued to move his fingers even after she recovered, but leaned down to whisper softly in her ear.

“Would you like more?”

“Fuck, Tyril, yes. Just fuck me,” she begged, eyes barely able to stay open to look at his grin. He raised to his knees on the bed and looked down at her for a brief moment before entering her, admiring the way her skin shone with sweat and the way her flesh was blemished with the marks he had placed there. Naexi, in all her glory, was his.

“All mine,” he whispered before thrusting and gasping at how perfectly her heat enveloped him. He buried himself inside her, allowing her a few seconds to get used to his size. Finally, the legs she instinctively wrapped around him squeezed his waist, getting him to pull out of her again before slamming back in with a loud moan.

“Tyril!” she screamed, thankful for the lack of neighbors in his penthouse apartment. “Faster, please!” she pleaded, green locking with blue as she met him thrust for thrust, clenching around his cock and grabbing the wrists that connected to the hands clutching her waist. He picked up his pace, moaning all the while, and felt his stomach already coiling, a tell-tale sign of how close he was. She let out a small cry as he hit her sensitive spot and brought his thumb down to rub around her clit, unexpectedly throwing her over the edge. “Don’t stop, Tyril!” He heeded her instruction, and at the feeling of her juices coating his cock, followed her to his own peak, releasing himself inside her. Her eyes blinked slowly, as if finally coming back to her senses minutes after he pulled out and retrieved a warm washcloth to clean her up. Sitting up, she followed him to the bathroom, rubbing at his shoulders as he began to draw a bath.

“Did you...enjoy the gala?” he asked awkwardly, frowning when she laughed.

“After that mind-blowing sex, that’s what you’re going to say.” She poked his cheek and then kissed the small, red spot. “You’re too adorable.”

“...It was mind-blowing?”

“You’re turning into Mal.” His eyes bulged and he exaggerated a shudder.

“Oh no.”

“But yes, it was mind-blowing.” Her lips found his easily, but she pulled away again when she felt a smile against them. “What are you smiling at?”

“I’m just happy that now I can have mind-blowing sex with you all the time now.”

“How romantic.”

#choices tyril #tyril starfury #tyril #tyril x mc #choices #blades of light and shadow #choices blades #blades au #blades #n*fw #fanfic

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sasskarian · 4 years

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Your Danse fic though! Can you do something for "My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand?"

oh, nonnie, have I got a ficlet for you.

Note: I still maintain that this is all @asaara-writes fault. TWs for illness, wounds, and needles.

*** Hozier Prompts! *** Read on AO3! ***

Danse has been a soldier too long to be a deep sleeper.

That’s the first thing the Brotherhood trains you out of. The indoctrination comes later, because only a good soldier can be indoctrinated, and a good soldier has to wake up at the first hint of danger. So when he hears the first whimper from across the room, his eyes snap open. The night is quiet, except for Evelyn’s breathing. But even as he watches in the dim moonlight of the gutted building they’re squatting in for the night, her arm spasms— and the dog bellies up to her, nosing at her with a low whine.

Now that he’s awake, he can hear the uneven, ragged edge to her breath in place of the normal steady and slow he’s used to. Switching on his low-light red headlamp, he makes his way over to her bedroll. Dogmeat looks up at him, snuffling at the quick pat Danse gives him. The closer he gets to Evelyn, the more alarm fills him until he’s kneeling next to her and trying to stay calm. Sweat beads on her forehead, rolling down her damp skin in rivulets he might find aesthetic under literally any other circumstances. In the places it’s already hit her flight suit, dark patches lay like lightless pools against her chest.

Even as he watches, she convulses once, twice, and then a third time before falling so still, Danse checks to make sure she’s still breathing. Every good field medic has scanners built into their suits but Evelyn has something better. He tilts her Pip-Boy, fumbling with the tiny controls until, in frustration, he shucks off the heavy gauntlets and gloves of his power armor. She teases him about all but living in it, and his gut clenches as he convinces the Pip to show her vitals. He taps it, wondering for a moment if it’s malfunctioning, but the high pulse rate and low oxygen levels stay exactly the same.

Injury detected, it reads. Deploy stimpak?

Injury? His eyes sweep over her, pinning on a darker spot than the rest and rolls down the collar of her suit, hissing. Imprinted on freckled flesh is an almost perfect set of bite marks, flaming red and hot to the touch. Danse tries, desperately, to remember when she could have been bitten. Was it the fight near the old bookstore? Or down outside of Goodneighbor? In his memory, he hears the clang of armor hitting the ground, and a pained goddammit! But when he’d looked, Evelyn had been reattaching her pauldron, a smoking mutant hound at her feet.

I’m fine, she’d reassured, reloading her gun— the one he’d given her, some absurdly pleased part of him noted— before heading out. It’s a lie he should have known, recognized, after telling it so much himself.

How long had she been out of her armor? How long did radiation last after a radstorm? Danse searches his brain for answers but none came. Lists of symptoms, survival chances, those things dance in his brain, but the best he can do is shrug out of his own armor (that she wasn’t coherent enough to tease him about it stung) and sit on the side of her bed.

“Come on, Evelyn,” he murmurs. Shaking hands pry out a bottle of purified water and a cloth from their supply pack, trying to clean the bite of dried blood. As he puts gentle pressure on the wound, dribbles of pus and debris come away on the rag and he rips it in half, trying to prevent contamination as he cleans her, holding on to his forced calm by the tips of his fingers.

Danse’s scores in field medicine had been average across the board, but with his team more versed in it, those skills are rusty and fuck, he wants to kick himself for it.

“RadAway,” he tells himself, searching the field kit. Attaching the IV to the bag is easier than finding a place to hang it; he settles on taping it to the hip-brace of his armor with the medical tape Evelyn had insisted on. Finding a vein is harder. He bit his lip as he presses on her arm, thumps it with his fingers, curls her hand into a fist. Nothing seems to work until finally, the smallest hint of blue in the dawning light shows in the back of her hand.

Evelyn jumps and moans as he swabs the area with the cleaner side of the damp cloth and slides the needle in, her eyes fluttering. The first signs of the medicine helping come around eleven that morning, her crumpled features smoothing out a little. It’s subtle, but Danse can tell; he’s spent the entire night cataloging her every exhale and movement. Dogmeat has somehow ended up half curled on his lap, half draped over his mistress, his heavy rump giving a tentative wag when Evelyn’s breathing begins to even.

The last of the RadAway drips from the bag, traveling down the long, thin tube to her arm, and Danse slides the IV from her with relief. Next is hydration: a stimpak will have to wait, since he isn’t sure what the mixed medications might do. But as he shifts, leaning over her to drip lukewarm water into her mouth, her hand shoots out and grabs his.

“Nate?” Her voice cracks, ragged and wet-sounding, and oh, how his heart clenches. “I’m so cold, Nate.”

He— what does he do here? Dozens of suggestions zip through him, at least half fueled by the heat of her hand on his. “It’s okay,” he finally manages. “You’re a bit sick. Just rest.”

“Mm.” She curls into him, her cheek nuzzling against his thigh; Danse stares, frozen, disbelieving. “Stay? I’ve been having the worst dream.”

There’s only one answer to that, and his voice is soft, almost wondering, even as the soldier the Brotherhood raised to need nothing beyond himself quails and shivers in his cage of steel. “Of course,” he whispers. Slow, so slow and tentative, he brushes through the coppery hair spread across his lap. Danse can’t remember the last time— if ever— he’s touched someone without his gloves, and the silky slide of her curls through his fingers rocks him down to his bones.

And that's when he knows he’s in trouble. This— the soft afternoon, with wasteland birds warbling and the touch of her hand on his— is boggy ground. He is her Paladin, her commanding officer. She is his soldier, but… she’s also a friend. In this, though, the way she rests against him, warm and shivering and somehow more real than anything else he’s felt before, Danse is knee-deep in emotion and sinking fast.

It’s past midnight before her fever breaks. Danse has long since given up on propriety, stretched out on his side next to the bedroll to help keep her warm. Dogmeat drapes over both their feet, snoring softly in the night, and the only stretch of time measured is in the small beep the Pip gives for the alarm he set. Slowly, so he doesn’t disturb Evelyn, he reaches into his pocket for the stimpak syringe and eases it into her injured shoulder. She tenses in his arms, burrowing her face deeper into his chest, but doesn’t wake.

(It shouldn’t feel good, right? Is he a selfish old bastard, for enjoying this simple human contact?)

Still moving slow, he nudges Dogmeat into waking. “Your turn, boy,” he says, almost soundless. The dog is smarter than most humans Danse knows, though, and he trusts him to stand watch and wake him if something goes wrong. But they’ve picked their camp well, so he doesn’t expect much trouble: Ferals were cleared long ago in another patrol, and there’ve been no signs of mutants for at least a mile. So for a moment, a desperately needed moment after almost two days of trying to keep Evelyn breathing, Danse lets his eyes droop.

Sleep has almost claimed him when she stirs, breathing her husband’s name against his neck. Guilt lazily slides through him, that her delirium has slapped a dead man’s face over his own in her mind and he hasn’t corrected her, but shock freezes him solid when her lips brush his. Once, soft and sleepy, and then again, more firm; not quite a demand, but when her hands slide to his jaw, he knows he is definitely awake and not hallucinating from exhaustion. He pries her hands from his jaw, ignoring her quiet whine, and settles them between his chest and hers, shuddering when her fingers curl into his undersuit.

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his mouth, her breath a thousand soft pleas against his skin.

“You’re still sick,” Danse says, summoning the words from somewhere deep inside, a place where willpower reigns over guilt and loneliness. “Rest now, Evie.”

When she finally settles against him, her ankle resting trustingly between his and her hair tickling his nose, Danse squeezes his eyes shut against the prickling that is most definitely not tears. Paladins don’t cry, and especially not over lovers they can’t have. Loving Evelyn would be a betrayal of her trust, of his military discipline, and disrespecting the memory of her husband. (Wouldn’t it?)

But a smaller, sly part of him knows that he’ll tuck this memory in the depths of his heart: the way she feels, the heavy, reassuring warmth of her body against his. How she fits in his arms, and the silken, forbidden glint of sunlight on her curls. How soft her lips are, even in this dried out desert of horrors.

He’s not in love. He’s not.

But his final thought, before finally dropping into sleep, is a faint wish that maybe he could be, if he let himself.

#fallout 4 #paladin danse #paladin danse/sole survivor #dogmeat #tw medical #i did the thing #my fic #first kiss #hurt/comfort #Anonymous

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