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suwya · 3 years

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Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6

Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

Rating: M

Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3

A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!

Chapter 6 . .

Be not inhospitable to strangers,

lest they be angels in disguise.

(W. B. Yeats)

When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.

He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.

Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.

“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.

Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”

“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”

“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.

“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”

“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.

“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”

“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”

“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”

“No problem.”

While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.

“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.

“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.

Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”

Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”

“A while.” Another elusive answer.

He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”

“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”

“And Emma?”

“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”

After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.

He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.

Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.

~·~·~·~

Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.

During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.

“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”

“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”

The boy greeted him with a wide grin.

Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”

“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.

“I see. And why are you…?”

Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.

“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.

“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.

The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”

The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”

The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”

“Why boring?”

Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.

“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”

Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.

~·~·~·~

Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.

All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.

But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.

So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.

David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.

Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”

She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.

“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.

“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.

“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”

“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.

The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”

“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”

After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.

She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.

Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.

Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”

“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.

Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”

She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.

Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.

“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.

At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”

~·~·~·~

Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.

Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.

He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.

“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.

She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.

Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”

It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.

“And she for you, I take it?”

Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.

“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.

Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”

The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”

“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.

“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”

~·~·~·~

The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.

After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.

Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”

Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.

Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.

But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.

Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.

“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”

The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”

“Thank you, mate.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.

“May I help?” Henry barged in.

A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.

“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.

“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.

Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”

The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.

“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”

“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.

“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.

Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”

~·~·~·~

If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.

There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.

Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.

On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.

And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.

Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.

Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.

Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.

"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.

Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.

Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.

“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.

Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.

“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.

~·~·~·~

Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”

He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”

He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.

In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.

He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.

Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.

“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”

She didn’t answer.

Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.

She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”

She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

#cs ff #cs au #Till the Stars Had Run Away #alternative universe #science fiction #space au #my writing

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thewildomega · 4 years

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Second Chance ch.8

Running towards the hidden entrance to the town behind the waterfall he held y/n tightly to his chest. Looking to the homes he saw all the lights off and knew most were probably sleeping. Refusing to stop he ran as fast as he could to where his home was. Coming up on the hill he saw another smaller home built not too far from it. Using his haki he felt a bit of relief come over him at the familiar presence. "MARCO!" Getting to the door he saw it was small, about half his height, he was back to his old size. "MARCO!" he called again. Seeing a light turn on from inside the window he breathed heavily. As soon as the door opened he looked down to see his son rubbing his eye.

"What the hell is..." Marco asked in a sleepy voice, dropping his hand and looking out his door. Seeing nothing but legs he craned his neck to gaze up at the tall man. Knitting his brows and blinking a few times he snapped his eyes around. Long blond hair, same warm yellow eyes, huge as hell but younger? Way younger. "H..how... I...I don't.... Pops?"

"I don't have time to explain now son. I need your help. I need you to help her." Seeing his son still frozen he grit his teeth. "Marco now!" he yelled and saw the man snap out of it.

"Right. Okay." he said firmly more to himself than the man who resembled his late father. "Go take her to your home and I'll grab my things."

"Marco honey? What is it?" a feminine voice said from behind him.

Glancing behind his son he saw a woman standing there, wearing nothing but a nightgown. While he was intrigued about who this young woman was he didn't have time right now. Hurrying over to his home he was happy to find his door unlocked, the large wooden door slamming back against the wall as he pushed his way inside. Turning on the lights he moved to his own bedroom and placed her down on the dusty bed. Standing back up to look down at her he took in her size compared to the large bed and knit his brows. Hearing feet running towards them he saw Marco come up beside him and start looking y/n over. When he pulled back the coat and her ripped shirt he saw the bleeding gunshot wound on the right side of her chest, just over her breast and swallowed hard.

"I need to get her shirt off so I can see if the bullet went the whole way through." Pulling out a knife he started cutting away the blood soaked shirt.

Helping sit her up and pull off her coat and shirt he tossed them to the side to be taken care of later. Seeing no wound on her back he knew the bullet was still in her. Laying her back down gently he watched as Marco checked her pulse and heartbeat.

"Her heartbeat is faint. She needs a blood transfusion or she'll be dead in minutes." the doctor said and saw as the large man moved to sit on the floor by the bed table, holding out his arm. "You don't know if ..."

"I do. I am."

Nodding he quickly grabbed the things he needed and stepped in front of his father. Finding a vein quickly he shoved the needle in. As soon as the red liquid of life started filling the bottle he stepped back over to the woman on the bed to get her hooked up as well.

Sitting back against the wall he watched quietly as Marco worked on saving his lass's life. The woman from before had come over soon after he hooked Y/n up to an IV and she gave him a look before moving beside Marco and speaking to him. He heard her weak whimpers and cries as the doctor started digging for the bullet still lodged in her chest and it sent a sharp pain through his chest. The woman who he had overheard Marco call Zella helped in holding y/n down for the painful procedure. Once it was out he saw the bright blue flames come from his hand that pressed over Y/n's wound.

Healing her as much as he could with his powers he grabbed his supplies to start stitching the wound close. Wrapping the wound in bandages he looked over her other injuries to start on them.

After a good two hours he heard Marco let out a sigh and step away from the bed to turn to him. "She should be just fine." he told the younger version of his pops. Looking behind him he rose his chin. "Zel, go get some stuff an clean her up will ya?"

Seeing the woman nod and make her way out of the room he looked back to see Marco looking at him with lowered brows.

"How? I don't understand how you are here. You died, Ace died, we buried you both..."

"It's complicated..."

"I don't care tell me. Tell me how you just show up here, alive and young after almost two damn years."

"Two years?" he repeated, his face falling and his eyes going a bit wide. Seeing Marco's face serious he took a deep breath and tried to take it all in. He had only been in Y/n's world for almost two months but it had been near two years here? Looking back up to Marco he saw the woman return with her arms full of different things. Noticing the bathing supplies and such he stood and walked over to his dresser. Taking out one of his few shirts he held it out for the woman to take. "It'll be big on her but it will work for now." he said and saw her nod, a kind smile on her face. Glancing back to y/n one last time he swallowed hard and walked out, hearing Marco follow behind him.

....................................

All the while Zella who he learned was his son's wife, cleaned y/n he had told Marco everything as Marco took care of the stab wound on his forearm that he had forgotten about. He told him how he had washed up on the shore of the lake and how y/n had found him. He told him how when he had woken up he was somehow young again. Telling him about y/n and her world Marco stayed quiet through it all, ever the clam and collected one. Refusing to hold anything back from him he also spoke to him about the strong connection the two had towards each other. Lastly he spoke to him about the events that had just occurred before the two of them had been sent back here.

"She is your soulmate then?"

Humming he grinned. "Yes."

"Does she know that?"

Taking a deep breath he let it out in a long sigh, "No. I don't believe they are a thing in her world."

Nodding Marco looked to where Whitebeard's bedroom was, thinking about the woman who had all in all saved her father's life. "So what is she like, Y/n?" he asked and couldn't help but grin when he saw the way his father smiled.

"Oh she is kind, so very kind and quiet. She's a hardworking woman but she never complains. She also has a temper as well though." he said with a chuckle at the end but then felt his smile fall away some. "But... she's been hurt before. I don't exactly know how, she hasn't opened up to me yet and I haven't pushed her on it." huffing a bit he looked to the blond and smiled, "You'll like her though, she's been making me take vitamins and eat more healthy."

"She's a keeper."

Laughing he smiled and leaned back into the chiar. "Now, tell me, what's happened since I died."

Rubbing the back of his neck he looked into the large yellow eyes and started relaying the events from the last 19 months. He told him about how the crew and some others, along with Shanks buried both him and Ace. Then he told him about the payback war they had had with Blackbeard and his crew. Admitting the defeat he grit his teeth. and bounced his knee. "We all disbanded after that. With Teach and his crew, then the World Government after us I thought it would be best if we went our own ways.... I didn't want to do it but..."

Sighing he crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "It's alright son, I understand. You did the right thing."

"It get's worse." Seeing his father look back to him he blinked slowly, "Because of Teach beating us the World Government named him the new Emperor."

"What?"

Nodding Marco saw the man's massive muscles flex.

"What about Ace's brother, that strawhat runt?"

"Luffy. I don't know, no one has heard anything from him since a about a week after the war. He showed up at Marineford again with both Jinbe and Rayleigh..."

"Rayleigh?"

"Yep. Luffy didn't attack anyone or start any trouble. All he did was go up and ring the OX bell before taking off his hat. There were many pictures taken of him, it was put on the front page. After that he left and no one has seen him or any of his crew since."

Humming he lowered his brow in thought. He didn't think the boy was giving up, not from all the stories Ace had told him. Before anything else could be said he heard the door open and looked towards his bedroom to see Zella walking out with a y/n's clothes in her arms.

"I cleaned her up as best I could. There was a place on the back of her head that i don't think you saw but I cleaned it and bandaged it as well." Zella told her husband who nodded.

"I'm going to go take a look at it real quick."

Watching his son walk out of the room he looked to the young woman and saw her smile at him. "Well hello my dear. I hear you are my son's wife."

Nodding Zella looked to the large man. "Yes. It's so nice to be able to meet you, Marco has told me all about you. I don't understand exactly how you are here but I am happy nonetheless. Marco and the rest of your children missed you dearly."

Grinning he hummed. "I missed them as well. I do hope you are taking good care of my boy... not making it too easy for him though right?" he asked and heard her chuckle lightly.

"Not at all." she assured him. Remembering something she held out the items she had found in the woman's clothing. "Here you go, I found these in her clothes, I don't think they would do well in the wash."

Taking the items Zella handed over he saw y/n's phone, notebook and a few other items.

"Of course. I am going to wash her pants and other clothes but I am afraid her shirt is past the point of repair."

"Thank you dear." Seeing her nod as Marco walked back out he looked to him.

"Yea that's a nice sized bump on her head, it's got a small gash as well but not enough for stitches. She may have a slight concussion and her head will probably ach for a few days once she wakes. Nothing some herbal tea won't help though. Still once she wakes she will need to take it easy, she did lose a lot of blood."

Nodding he stood and saw Marco cover a yawn. "You both should get back to bed."

"Sounds good. If you need me you know where to find me. I'll be back over to check on her in the morning." he told him and saw him nod. Looking up to his father he smiled "Goodnight pops."

Grinning he kneeled down to hug his son, "Goodnight my son." Watching them both leave he set the items down on the table and moved towards his bedroom. The light was off but with the light from the living room he could still see fairly well. Walking over to the bed he looked down at her and saw wrapped up under the covers. She had bandages on her cheek and wrapped around her head, he could also make out the light bruise on her lip and jaw. Her skin was still flushed but not as much as it was. Dropping his eyes to her chest he could only see so much with the blankets pulled up to just under her shoulders but he knew she was wearing his shirt. The white fabric looked more like a sheet on her than anything with the first few buttons undone and some of the bandages peeking out. The slowly rise and fall of her chest told him she was sleeping soundly and he let out a sigh of relief. If Marco hadn't been here then there was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't have made it, the very thought making his heart clench. Threading his fingers through her hair he heard a small groan and noticed her lashes fluttering a bit, her brows knitting together in discomfort. Crouching down beside the bed he continued stroking her hair and then her unmarked cheek with his thumb. "Yer alright lass, go back to sleep darling."

Hearing the deep, comforting voice you relaxed and did as it commanded.

Seeing her drift back off he grinned. Standing back up he tugged the covers up over her a bit more before going back out to the living room. Looking towards the couch he gave a sigh and rubbed the back of his head. While there was plenty of room for both of them on his bed he didn't want to risk making her uncomfortable or worse hurting her. So couch it was. Turning off the light he walked over to the old sofa and layed down on it, his feet hanging off the side.

.................................

Groaning giving a whimper when your whole body seemed to ache you slowly lifted your hand to your face to rub your eyes. Feeling a bandage and then another one you knit your brows and then started attempting to open your eyes. At first they instantly closed from the bright light but after a little bit you managed to get them open and take a glance around the room you were in. First thing you noticed was the ceiling, it was wooden with large beams running along it. Turning your head to the walls you saw them to be made of what looked like plaster, the trim and door made of the same wood as the beams along with the floor. The room itself was of nice size with a dresser, side table and the huge bed you were laying in. It had to be a California king with white sheets and deep blue bedding. Seeing a window on the far wall with white curtains you tilted your head a bit at the view outside. From where you laid you could see what looked like bright green grass and a large mountain in the far landscape, a clear blue sky above. Just where the hell were you?

Thinking back to the last thing you remembered you recalled the incident at the bar, those men, they had robbed the place and then you had taken off after the man. The two of you were fighting and then he... he tried to... he was going to rape you but he hadn't. Edward had shown up, he had saved you. Then him and the man had fought and the guy had pulled a gun. He was going to shoot Edward so you jumped in the way. Glancing down to your chest you pulled the large shirt... gown, whatever it was away some and saw bandages there. You had been shot. Your memory went a bit fuzzy after that. You could remember Edward yelling, the other man screaming and then the ground shook but then Ed was there. He was holding you and he was so warm, you could hear his heartbeat and then nothing.

Letting out a long breath you laid your head back on the pillow and thought. Had you been taken to some hospital? You had never heard of any hospitals that looked like this. Blinking you decide to go find out what was going on. Trying to sit up you bit your lip to muffle your cry as every injury on your body seemed the throb. Sitting up on the bed you were overcome with a coughing fit and covered your mouth with one elbow while the other hand moved to clutch your chest. Whimpering when your head felt like it was going to split into you closed your eyes tight, your face scrunching up in pain. Once you had gotten a bit used to the pain you opened your eyes and looked around the room again. Dropping your eyes to your own body you knit your brows and lifted the large shirt hanging on your body. It was way too big but it didn't look like a gown and... sniffing it you leaned back some, you knew that scent. Was he here, was he okay? Going to stand up from the bed you heard one of the two doors open and froze. Looking up you saw a man come walking into the room but there was something off about him. Why was he so small? He had blond hair on the top of his head and when he looked up to you, you saw he had glasses on as well. Was he a dwarf?

"Oh. We weren't expecting you to be up so soon." Marco said to the woman with a smile. Walking over to her he looked up to her, "Pops will be happy. I'm Marco by the way."

Marco, Edward's son? How was he here? Had he somehow been teleported to your world too? Licking your dry lips you looked down to the man. "Hello. I'm y...y/n." you told him, your voice cracking a bit.

"Yes I know, the big man has been talking about you nonstop all day." he chuckled.

"Edward is here?"

"Yea, well not here, he went to grab a few things from town but he should be back soon. In the meantime though I'd like to check over your injuries." Stepping forward some he saw her a tad bit uncomfortable and grinned softly. "It's okay, I'm a doctor."

Nodding you tried to relax some "I know Ed talks about you a lot as well."

"Hopefully good things." he smiled.

Sitting still as Marco did his exam you listened to him tell you the extent of all your injuries and that you would have to take it easy for the next week. Rubbing your face you sighed, "I have to call work and tell them..."

Rubbing the back of his neck he looked off to the side, "Ah yea well about that..." He didn't get to finish his sentence as he heard a door shut and then the footsteps coming towards the room.

Seeing him look towards the door you followed his eyes as it opened, standing in the frame was him, "Edward?"

Looking over to the bed his face split into a large smile when he saw his lass awake and sitting up. "Y/n darling you're awake."

"Yep, doing good too. She should be able to get up and move about a bit but nothing too exerting." Marco told them.

"I'll make sure of it." Grinning and giving a nod he saw Marco look to the flowers in his hand and raise his brows.

"Well I am going to head out. I'll get Zel to bring over your clothes."

"Thank you." you told the small man and saw him nod as he turned to walk by Edward, only coming up to the man's knee. Hearing another door shut you looked back to Ed and saw him move towards you.

Holding out the bouquet of white flowers he smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Here ya go lass."

Looking down at the daffodils you felt a warmth in your chest that flowed up to your cheeks. Smiling softly you reached out to take them from him. "Thank you Ed." Observing the beautiful flowers you smiled, there was even a purple ribbon tied around them and already you could smell their pleasant scent. Raising your eyes back to him you saw him only looking down at you with a soft smile.

Moving to sit on the bed beside her he took a deep breath, "You know you had me scared there for a moment darling. I didn't know if you were going to make it." he said, looking down and feeling his lip twitch. Looking up to meet her eyes he glanced to the bruises and cuts on her face. "You took a bullet for me and while I am grateful I don't ever want you to do something like that again." seeing her brows knit he shook his head when he saw her go to speak. "No. You are never to put yourself in danger like that again. Promise me y/n."

Taking a deep breath you said nothing and saw his brows lower.

"Y/n." he grunted.

"I can't make a promise that I don't know I will be able to keep." you said softly and saw his hand move up to rub his face and pinch the bridge of his nose.

"You have to be the most stubborn women I have ever met." he grumbled.

Giggling a little you grinned and smelled at the flowers. "I'll take it as a compliment." seeing him give you a small glare, making you smile more he shook his head. Looking towards the window again you saw rolling green hills with a few other homes or buildings here and there. This didn't look like anywhere in Montant you had ever seen. Knitting your brows you took another look around the room that now you thought about it looked more like a bedroom. Seeing a white hat sitting on the dresser with yellow trim and what looked like a pirate symbol on the front you also noted the other personal items here and there throughout the room. Before you knew it you heart started beating a little faster. "Umm Ed.... where are we?"

#edward newgate #feedback would be appreciated #edward newgate x reader #Whitebeard #whitebeard one piece #one piece whitebeard #whitebeard x reader #marco the phoenix #soulmate au

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yessoupy · 4 years

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the @imetyouonljpodcast episode this week gave me lots of thoughts and feelings about star wars. more like, reminded me of all my thoughts and feelings around my first fandom. thus, I decided to write my own journey into and throughout star wars fandom, and what it means to me. buckle up, this story spans decades.

my very first memory of anything star wars-related is a yoda puppet that my grandmother had. it had to be from the original run of the movies, because I was maybe 4 in my first memory of it, and i was born in '86. my sisters and I loved it, and one of our cousins was deathly scared of it so we'd chase him around the house with it.

my second memory of star wars was going to the movie store with my dad and sisters and seeing our favorite yoda on the cover of a VHS. "yoda yoda yoda! daddy, it's yoda!!! can we get it?" we were holding up the display cover for return of the jedi. dad said no, we couldn't get that one yet because we had to watch them in order. so we rented a new hope and all I remember was falling asleep while artoo and threepio were trundling across the tatooine desert sands. at five I guess I was too young.

in early 1997 the special editions of the original trilogy were aired in theaters and I was in 4th grade. dad took us to see one of them (I think empire, at some point we'd finally finished a new hope). at school that grading period I sat next to a boy named mark and he noticed I was drawing little x-wing silhouettes on my paper. "you like star wars too?" he asked. when I said yes, he declared that because of my name, he was going to call me skywalker. that's the name on the back of my high school letter jacket.

in fall of 1998 I started the 6th grade and I came home from school one day to a hardbound book my mom had checked out for me from the library. heir to the empire by timothy zahn. mom pointed out where it said on the cover it was a trilogy, and I could get the other books when I finished this one. she hadn't found the young jedi knights series for me. she'd checked out a GROWN-UP star wars book.

in spring of 1999 the phantom menace came out and my parents' friend took me to see it on opening day because neither of them were free and I HAD to go that day. later on that year she took me to a star wars exhibit at the museum of fine arts. that was also the first time I saw a monet and a renoir. the exhibit had costumes (real costumes!!!) from the original trilogy and the newest prequel. I bought a book about the myth of star wars in the museum gift shop.

I read every expanded universe book our local library had, which was a lot. I had a lot to catch up on, too, since heir to the empire had been published in 1992. you never saw me at school without a star wars book. I read while walking in the hallways, even. in 6th grade I read during lunch, since I was in varsity orchestra with 7th and 8th graders and was terribly shy. they'd tell me I should socialize at lunch, not read my books, but... I wanted to read. I had a lot to learn. I have a lot to know.

I was in 7th grade when I read vector prime, the first in the new series. my first class of the day was science, and the boy I had a crush on was in that class. we had DEAR time at the beginning of that class - drop everything and read. not a hardship for me. that day, I read the part of the book where chewbacca was killed. I looked up, astonished. heartbroken. I locked eyes with the boy I liked. he nodded at the book and I showed him the cover. he nodded sympathetically. "they killed chewie," I whispered. he said "I know."

I wrote original characters in star wars fan fiction when I was about 13. I had an internet friend named rachel who lived in brisbane. then there was dave and 'roswell' who gave me ideas for my story. I loved being able to talk about the wide world of star wars with other people. we used aol instant messenger and email. my username in those days had 'skywalker' in it. I am pretty sure we met in an aol chatroom. I didn't find much of use on the official star wars site and I have probably visited it fewer than 10 times since 1999.

I read those books all through middle and high school. they were my christmas presents and my birthday presents. I moved into our family beach house after college. it sounds really nice but I didn't have running water because it was the summer after Ike hit. I would go to the used book store on 23rd street and buy a stack of star wars books and read them while I waiting for calls to interview for a teaching position. weekends I'd go into town to stay at a friend's house and help her with wedding stuff. I'd shower there, too. that's where my new stash of star wars books started, with me catching up on the legacy of the force series I hadn't read in college and then finishing up through the fate of the jedi as those came out. I felt that I had grown up with these characters. I remembered when kyp was just an orphan han rescued, when jacen and jaina were five years old, when corran horn had no wife, no kids, and was just finding out who his family was. I had capital o opinions about what color lightsaber i would have and why (silver; bc corran), I knew the geography of the galaxy and where everyone was from and my favorite planet was dathomir because women ruled it. I knew all of these characters' histories and motivations and the difficult decisions they'd made and had to live with. I loved them.

i never ventured into the online fandom space for star wars, even after I'd found other online fandom spaces, because I didn't feel like there was anything anyone could add to it for me. I was satisfied with all I'd gotten. sure, favorite characters had been killed (after chewie, the one who stung most was Mara, luke's wife), but people die. and in such a long-running series spanning so many years and trillions of miles of space... you come to expect it.

people would ask me ALL THE TIME when the sequels were coming out and I said never. then, disney bought star wars. initially I was excited (tears of joy happy) to have sequels confirmed. my mind raced, imagining a trilogy centered on the events surrounding jacen's descent to the dark side. the original actors would be the right age for that. who could play jacen?

then, the announcement came that the canon was now 'legends' and they wouldn't be taking any of it into account when writing the sequels BUT that didn't mean we wouldn't see old canon favorites. they announced adam driver as the villain and I thought "jacen." I held onto the idea that this knowledge I had, these years of knowing these stories, would still be worth something. that I'd be able to add new information to my mental bookshelves and maps. that my universe would expand further.

the force awakens was a bitter disappointment. I was upset from the crawl, leia's title making it clear to me that she wasn't chief of state, she wasn't the mother to three children, han wasn't her husband, and all of her history I'd grown to love really was gone. what I saw was the older version of a woman I'd met when she was 18 and hadn't seen her since her early twenties. I didn't know her.

I didn't know the galaxy, either. starting with the new jedi order series, a map of the galaxy was included in the front of each book with the planets named so you knew where everything was happening. the new galaxy was bare. it was small and knowable. while the hosnian prime system was destroyed in the movie, I'd never known it, and all the planets I DID know were similarly blasted out of memory. where was dathomir and its fierce warrior witches? if their planets were gone so were their people.

as the movie trudged on, a retelling of a new hope, I kept thinking, "at least let his name be jacen." I hung my hopes on this sith character being han and leia's son and sharing that name of the boy I'd known and the man who'd grown up to turn to the dark side. at that first shout of 'BEN!' I was angry. Ben?? that was the name of LUKE'S son! that was MARA'S child! Ben??? with three letters jacen solo and ben skywalker were also dead to the galaxy.

I know, I know. I should get over it. I AM thankful for poe dameron. the x-wing books were always my favorite. poe was familiar to me the way other new characters weren't. he was part of the new republic navy. I knew what that was. he flew an x-wing. I knew what that was.l and what company manufactured them. he was from yavin IV, I knew where that was and what it looked like. finn was a stormtrooper, yes, but the empire had not stolen children to be raised as stormtroopers. they were recruited like any other position. his story wasn't real to me, it wasn't something I could easily accept. and the idea that the new republic just LET the first order rise? leia's new republic would NEVER. but leia wasn't chief of state in this universe. leia hadn't had that power.

I read a lot of articles about the force awakens and the reactions to it, and never saw myself in any of them. the star wars fanboys whom I'd never known were painted as being angry because their fan knowledge was useless and "boo-hoo poor widdle fanboys" they would be mocked, rightfully. but that's why I was angry, ultimately. everyone I knew and loved was dead. worse, they'd never existed. "what do you think will happen?" some unsuspecting coworker would ask. I'd shrug, but inside I was yelling "who the fuck knows! my favorite characters don't exist anymore. nothing I know as this person you know as SKYWALKER means anything anymore."

it only got worse from there. One day I spent four hours figuring out how far the casino planet was from the drifting ships in the last jedi and doing math to figure out how long it would REALLY take to get there, using old canon star wars physics. I couldn't suspend my disbelief during that movie. everything was wrong. (the other space physics quibble I had was from TFA when poe is using comms while in hyperspace, and dropping out on a command and not... when nav told him to?? you'd fly right through a star!! were they HOVERING in hyperspace? none of it made sense.) I knew too much and too little to enjoy it.

TROS was a narrative mess already retconning new canon and I decided that I would only keep what I liked about the new canon (poe and his family) and pretend the old canon is all there is. one day I'll write the story of poe being part of the storied rogue squadron being sent by leia's new republic to put down the fascist upstarts at the edge of the unknown regions. one day.

one more quick story -- i met my college friend’s three kids for the first time when the oldest was 6. i’d sent a toy lightsaber as a gift when he was born, because i believe every child should get their first lightsaber from a skywalker, and his father had shown him the movies when he turned 4. when i walked into the house i said hello and he said, “i have some questions about star wars.”

we sat on the couch with the tfa visual dictionary, a book he’d gotten out of the library. every question he had was an excellent question, and i couldn’t answer any of them. “why does his lightsaber look like that? and why does he have the extra blades?”

“well, kiddo, let’s see what it says here about how lightsabers are made. i used to know all about it, but they changed everything on me.”

---

what i love about star wars since disney bought it:

poe dameron, cassian andor (and all of rogue one, i got over the fact that the movie wouldn’t be about rogue squadron it was PERFECT), solo (a fucking DELIGHT), the mandalorian, and i’m sure the cassian andor live action will be amazing and i’ll love it.

#star wars #fandom thoughts #i've just spent SO MUCH of my life being a star wars fan #and being perfectly happy to describe myself as such #edit i tried a read more but it didn't work so sorrryyyyyyyy

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not-oscar-wilde · 4 years

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Revived

The apocalypse has been averted, the timeline fixed, and the Hargreeves siblings returned to 2019. Herb decides to do them one more favour and save the life of one Dave Katz.

I wrote a new fic! read it below the cut or on AO3.

The pain in Dave’s chest was unbearable. Klaus was above him and he was speaking, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. He wanted to comfort him, to stop him from panicking and tell him he loved him, but he couldn’t get the words out. He could only try and keep his eyes open, to keep his eyes on Klaus and try to psychically tell him everything he needed him to know, before the pain won out and everything turned black.

And then he woke up.

Though the room around him smelled sterile, it wasn’t like any hospital or medical tent he had ever been in before. He was lying in a crisp, white bed, with a myriad of wires attached to his body. Some of them he recognised, the IV drips were standard, but the majority were completely alien to him, from those puncturing his skin to those seemingly just stuck to it.

“Good afternoon, Mr Katz,” a smooth, female voice said in an accent that reminded him vaguely of movie stars. But when Dave looked around the room, he was completely alone, accompanied only by strangely flat screens he couldn’t see properly from his position on the bed. “Please remain calm. I have notified our Medical Team that you are awake and someone will be with you shortly.” There was something wrong about that voice, some kind indescribable, minute wrongness that unsettled him.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You are in the Intensive Care Unit of the Temps Commission Infirmary, Room 9,” the voice said.

The Temps Commission Infirmary? He’d never heard of that hospital, and it definitely didn’t look American or Vietnamese. “The what? What happened? And who are you?”

“The Temps Commission Infirmary, attached to the headquarters of the Temps Commission. You were shot through the chest in A Shau Valley, Vietnam, February 21, 1968. I am VINA, your Virtual Infirmary Nursing Assistant.”

He’d been shot. He remembered it, remembered the pain, remembered the way Klaus had screamed and held him and how he hadn’t managed to say anything before the world had gone dark. What had happened to Klaus? To everyone? “How long have I been here?”

“You have been in the TCICU for three days, six hours, and thirty seven minutes.”

But when he brought his hand up to his chest, there were no dressings, just bare, unmarked skin. If he had been there for six days, if he’d been shot… He should be dead, or at the very least, heavily bandaged. Before he could think too much about that, a door slid open like something out of a sci-fi movie, and a tall, dark skinned woman with a serious face walked in. “Good afternoon, Mr Katz. My name is Doctor Onyeka Nwoye. How are you feeling?” she asked as she approached his bed, examining the screens. If there hadn’t been much stranger things going on, he would have been mildly surprised by a black lady doctor being sent in to treat him. He forgot, sometimes, that not everywhere was like Texas. But he was immensely glad of that fact, particularly if she’d been the one to fix him up.

“I’m good,” he said, and as confusing as it was, that was true. He shouldn’t be feeling good. He’d been shot, and he felt fine. That shouldn’t be happening.

“Any pain?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Good, that’s good. VINA, anything to report?”

“Mr Katz has not experienced any physical complications during the healing process. His body has responded well to the treatment and brain scans indicate that no neurological damage has occurred,” the disembodied voice said. The voice that didn’t belong to a person at all, if Dave had understood correctly. VINA had to be some kind of automaton, a computer that could speak. He didn’t much like that.

Doctor Nwoye nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “A complete success, then. I would like to keep you under supervision for another twenty-four hours, but if I have no concerns at the end of this period, I see no need to keep you here any longer.” With that, she set about detaching the various wires from his body.

“Where is here? I know we’re in some kinda hospital, the… Commission?”

“Yes. We are an organisation dedicated to fixing, monitoring, and eliminating timeline anomalies,” she said, as if that made any kind of sense. “And, in exceptional circumstances, minimising potential disruptions.”

Dave frowned, trying to translate her words into something close to regular English. He knew he wasn’t that stupid, but he sure felt it. “So I’m a- what was it? A timeline anomaly?”

“I am a doctor, not an analyst. I cannot tell you who or what the timeline anomalies are.”

“Were you there, when I got shot?” he asked instead.

Dr Nwoye laughed and shook her head. “Oh Lord, no. I do not have the disposition for time travel, and I think my wife would have my head if I were ever to set foot in the field. I work solely from inside the TCI.”

“Your wife ?” he repeated, his heart leaping. This was a woman with a wife. A woman in a world where she could not only love another woman, but marry her and be able to mention it so casually to a complete stranger?

“Do you have a problem with the fact your life was saved by a lesbian, Mr Katz?” she asked calmly, and his stomach sank.

“No, ma’am! I just… Where I come from, people can’t… I didn’t know there was anywhere you could have that kinda marriage.” Was this the future? The place that Klaus had talked about, had said he couldn’t ever go back to? Had Dave somehow ended up there in his place, leaving Klaus in the middle of a war he’d never even signed up for? But that world was ending. Klaus had told him that. So how was he here? “I was just surprised is all. I’m… you know, the same typa way.”

The slight smile returned to the doctor’s face, and Dave relaxed. “It was 1968 you came from, yes?” So that pretty much confirmed his ‘future’ theory. Dave nodded mutely. “I cannot say I know why your survival matters so much yet your injury could not have been prevented, negating the need to bring you here at all, but I will say I am glad you are more… progressive than some of your contemporaries. It does make my job easier.”

“Doctor Nwoye, you are needed urgently in Room 14,” the disembodied voice said before Dave could formulate an answer, and the doctor sighed.

“I am on my way. Mr Katz, if you need anything, just ask VINA.” And with that, the bizarre door slid open again and Dr Nwoye was striding away.

The room was silent for a few minutes as Dave thought about this whole situation. He’d think it a fever dream, but he wasn’t sure he was creative enough to come up with all of this. “VINA?” he said eventually, feeling more than a little silly speaking to an empty room.

But the disembodied voice responded immediately. “Do you require assistance, Mr Katz?”

“I…What the hell is going on?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. Please elaborate or rephrase to receive appropriate support.”

“I got shot . But I don’t even have a scar.”

“You are correct. Do you have any questions about your treatment?”

Dave exhaled shakily and touched his chest again. Even that should have hurt, and though he was incredibly grateful that it didn’t, that fact was in itself unsettling. “What kinda doctor can just make a bullet wound… vanish?”

“Dr Nwoye is an expert in bioregeneration and biotemporal manipulation.”

“Bio… Jeez.” He could guess at what those words meant, but truthfully, he had no idea. It may as well have been another language. Was this the world Klaus had come from? This strange world filled with people and words he didn’t know, where gunshots through the chest were not just survivable but left no mark, where unseen people watched and spoke with you, where a black woman with a wife could be a white man’s doctor. It wasn’t a bad world. It was simply so far from the one he knew.

Some things would always be the same, though: hospitals were boring. Dave was half out of his mind with it, staring up at the ceiling and wishing he had something to do. Talking to VINA was just a little too weird, with her uncannily smooth voice and questionable existence. So he got out of bed, deciding to explore. There were no windows, only artificial lights built into the ceiling. He couldn’t even tell what time of day it was. The room was neither warm nor cold, despite the fact he was wearing only white cotton shorts.

The door that the doctor had come in through didn’t have a handle. Instead, he found a panel of buttons on the wall beside it and pushed one hopefully. With a hydraulic hiss, the door opened and he stepped out into the hallway. “Please remain in your room. If you require assistance, this can be provided. If you are searching for the bathroom, this can be located through the other door within your room.”

It was strange, being scolded by someone - or something - he couldn’t see, and in such a calm manner. But Dave obeyed and stepped back inside the confines of his room. He may as well check out the bathroom if he wasn’t allowed anywhere else.

There were clothes folded up on top of a cabinet next to the shower, accompanied by a ziplock bag of toiletries and a towel. He figured those must be for him. He was about to strip off, out of the plain white shorts he’d been left in, when a wave of self-consciousness overtook him. “VINA?” he said hesitantly.

“Do you need assistance, Mr Katz?”

“I, uh… Are you watching me in here?”

“I am tasked with monitoring all rooms of the Temps Commission Infirmary.”

He’d spent enough time in the military to be comfortable enough getting undressed in front of other men. But in front of a woman? Even if she might be a machine and not a real woman, it still felt wrong, somehow. “Could I get a little privacy?”

“To ensure your safety and the safety of other patients, I am required to observe at all times. Surveillance footage is wiped from my systems after two weeks and is not accessible without appropriate justification from Temps Commission staff.”

That still wasn’t exactly reassuring. Dave couldn’t even see where VINA was watching from, couldn’t work out where to position himself to turn his back. He’d been changed out of his fatigues, so someone had surely seen his naked body here before and there was no guarantee that they were all male, but the irrationality of his desire for modesty didn’t change anything.

She’s seen it all before , he told himself. There must’ve been hundreds of naked people in this hospital. And maybe this is just how things are in the future .

His shoulders dropped under the warmth and the strength of the water. It had been so long since he’d had a really good shower. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had one so good. Perhaps Klaus had had a point, waxing lyrical about the joys of a hot bath.

But then he touched his chest, touched the unblemished skin, and the touch stole the air from his lungs. He could feel it, feel himself being torn apart by the most agonising pain he had ever felt. What was the difference between warm water and hot blood? It all felt the same, running down his skin. Hands shaking, he switched the shower off and sank down to sit on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest as if they could shield him somehow. He wanted his mom. He wanted Klaus. He wanted to be held and told that it was okay, that he was safe.

Eventually, he slowed his breathing enough to realise he was getting cold, the water having cooled on his naked body. He got shakily to his feet and dried himself off before busying himself with getting redressed. He could do this. It was systematic, routine, a way to feel just a fraction more normal, even if the clothes weren’t quite right either.

It wasn’t that he was ungrateful, but he did feel slightly strange in them. The pants seemed too fitted around the legs and a little too short, with rips across both knees. He supposed even in the future, free clothes couldn’t always be new or in best condition. But he’d be able to fix them up easily enough. He’d never been as well-taught as his sister, but he’d been so eager to copy her in whatever she was doing that his mother had decided it was easier to just teach them both.

He wondered what had happened to Marie. How long ago had it been for her since they’d last seen each other?

“Mr Katz, you have a visitor.” VINA’s voice was still startling, with no clear source and no warning.

“A visitor?” he repeated. Who was here, visiting him? Who even knew he was here?

“Would you like to allow them access to your room?”

Dave looked himself over in the mirror. His hair was still damp and the clothes may be strange, but at least he looked decent. He looked normal. He didn’t look like a man who had just been shot.

But he pushed those feelings down, squared his shoulders and kept his head high as he stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bare room. “Yeah, let ‘em in,” he agreed.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. A very short man in a suit and a pair of glasses stepped into the room with an air of someone who didn’t feel quite certain how much space they were able or willing to take up.

“Hi, Mr Katz, right? I’m Herb, I’m, uh, Acting Chair here at the Commission,” the small man said with an awkward wave. “It’s good to see you up and about! And- and the timeline should be safe from any, uh, any attempts at rescue, so that’s a big bonus.”

Dave had resigned himself to the fact that everyone here was crazy. But there was something warm about Herb, something he liked. “Can you explain what’s going on? The doctor, she said something about anomalies?”

“Ah, well, in this case, we’re, uh, preventing a potential anomaly. I’ve seen firsthand what a determined Hargreeves can do, and I figured if we make sure none of them have a reason to go messing up a timeline again, it makes our jobs here easier!”

Dave’s breath caught in his throat. “You know Klaus?”

Herb giggled. “Do I know Klaus? Everyone here knows Klaus, he’s a Hargreeves . But I met him! I mean, I’m basically friends with his brother Diego, so you could say I know him better than most people here.”

Dave could barely hear what Herb was saying. His mind was racing faster than his heart, the use of ‘know’ rather than ‘knew’ enough to sustain him. He was still alive. And even if he was old now, stuck on the slow path through time, Dave knew he would still love him. He would love him until the end of the Earth. That had been a silent promise, as unspeakable as everything that they were, but as real and constant as the sun rising every morning. Forever was too much to vow in a war zone, but the intent had always been there. “Can I see him?”

“Well, that’s the plan!” Herb said brightly. “If you’re willing, we drop you off with him in 2019, there’s no need for any more time travelling shenanigans from the Hargreeveses, and we can all get back to normal!”

Fifty one years had passed. Would Klaus even still love him, after all that time? He almost couldn’t picture Klaus as an old man, not when he was full of so much energy, when he was so childlike sometimes. Was he an old man? Or had he somehow found a way back home before he had the chance to grow old? Back home... “People back home, my family… What happens to them?” he asked.

“Ah. Well, they think you’re dead. And unfortunately, they kind of had to. I’m afraid even if you turn down our offer to join Mr Hargreeves, you can’t go back to 1968. We made sure of that. And ooh, boy, that was a tricky one, but you’re not our first faked death and you sure won’t be our last!” Herb laughed, as if this was normal. As if this was simply how the world worked. And maybe it was. Maybe the world was bigger and stranger than anything Dave had ever seen. Anything but Klaus, of course. He was the maddest, strangest, most beautiful world all of his own.

In his mind, it had been just over a day since he’d seen him. But he missed him as if it had been weeks, months even. Maybe years. Did the ache dull over time? Would Klaus still be missing him as badly as he missed Klaus?

“If you’re, uh, amenable, we’ll drop you off in 2019 as soon as you’re discharged.”

It was a leap of faith into an unknown future, a new world. “I am.”

#also working on a chapter two so stay tuned for that #klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #tua #my content #my writing

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jupiter235 · 4 years

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WIP....wait, it’s actually Wednesday??

Tagged by the forever awesome @jeannedarcprice. Have another excerpt from the Days Gone AU I’m working on. This is a part of one of Gil’s memories that’s going to appear at some point in the fic (I don’t yet know where, though.)

~Start of the “freaker virus” outbreak, Boston, Massachusetts:

It was meant to be a two-week visit to America. Two weeks to visit my friends and more importantly, to spend time with Meri. Then Vetra and Suvi’s wedding was meant to be near the end of it, then they’d get on a plane to their honeymoon while I caught my flight back to London.

But to Hell with all that, of course.

All flights were grounded mere hours after my arrival. That was when Jill really began to worry. Meri picked up on it, I know she did—kids aren’t stupid, after all. I did what I could to try and soothe them both—probably used some sappy drivel or something about how this all couldn’t last. Doesn’t matter, because it didn’t really work, anyway.

The next day, Vetra calls. She and Suvi were moving their wedding up to that afternoon.

“She’s terrified,” Vetra had told us on the phone. “She’s convinced that if we don’t do it as soon as possible, then we may never get to. And I think she’s right.”

Suvi knew a preacher that was willing to perform the ceremony at the last minute. So it was just the preacher, his wife, me, Jill, Meri, and Sidera at the preacher’s house. We’d all tried to get in touch with everyone else who was supposed to be there—some weren’t answering their phones, and some were just too far away to make it in time. We all tried not to think about it, honestly.

Then the news just started getting oh-so-much-more cheery. That the hospitals were already beyond capacity wasn’t new. That the dead were starting to number in the millions wasn’t new either. That those who hadn’t died were turning into cannibalistic monsters also wasn’t.

What was new was that the ones who were turning were gathering together into what they were calling “hordes,” and no one seemed to know how to contain them. So they were running rampant everywhere, invading entire towns and killing whoever couldn’t run away from them fast enough. They’d stopped keeping track of the number of infected people, so many were getting sick.

Then the hordes started overrunning the large cities. Evacuation orders started going out. I think it took about two days before the news channels all stopped broadcasting. Then phone calls stopped going through.

I think that was the point where I knew that shit was seriously fucked now.

Meri had started staying closer and closer to me, her hand sliding into one of mine at random times. I could tell she was trying to not be scared. I wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, because we were all scared.

I had always thought she’d been so small for an eleven-year-old. When I would look at her, meaning to reassure her with some ridiculous and pointless platitude, it would die in my mouth.

My daughter was afraid, and I had to help her to not be.

So all I could do was hug her and hope it was enough.

I think it was about the time that the cellular towers stopped working that Vetra, Suvi, and Sid came over. They were leaving Boston, and they wanted us to come with them. Jill and I only glanced at one another. Decisions like this never really called for a debate between the two of us—we both always knew when we were in agreement with one another. Meri, smart girl that she was, seemed to know what the decision was before either of us had said anything and ran straight to her room to begin packing.

We followed their example; one backpack each containing a change of clothes and the barest essentials, with the hope that we could get more wherever we were going. Jill didn’t even bother locking the door when we left. She never said anything, and no one else bothered mentioning it, but that was when we all knew that we weren’t coming back. And several of her neighbors had had the same idea about leaving—several of them were packing their vehicles, others were walking like we were.

We wound up at the NERO refugee camp just outside of Boston. And it turned out we’d left just in time; word had begun circulating around the camp that they’d given the order to evacuate the city. People would be flooding the place within hours.

And they did just that. It didn’t even take a day before they had to start turning people away. The rumor was that they were being diverted to other refugee camps (were there any others to go to? Assuming they could even make it…) but some people had their doubts.

There was another rumor going around that NERO had executed a bunch of incoming people in their cars.

Vetra, Suvi, Sid, and I would find out later that that one was not a rumor, but a fact.

We’d all been at the refugee camp for a rather uneventful couple of days when shit went from bad to worse. Vetra was off somewhere trying to negotiate information out of anyone that would talk to her, and Jill had started working with the NERO scientists at the camp who were trying to come up with anything to try to help treat the people that were still getting sick. Suvi and I were trying to keep Sid and Meri entertained with a game of cards when we’d started to notice Meri was looking more and more pale and listless.

“I’m fine,” she said when I asked.

It was Sid who’d reached over and felt her forehead. “No you’re not, you’re burning up,” she pointed out.

I’d never truly felt that feeling of pure dread creeping down my spine before. First time for everything, I suppose.

The cards were forgotten as I picked Meri up and the four of us went to the medical tents. She was immediately put in a bed and hooked up to an IV. And Jill and Vetra had appeared from wherever they’d been.

The doctor diagnosing Meri with the virus was pretty much a formality. A cruel one, at that.

I wanted to punch him.

It wouldn’t have helped anything.

I held Meri’s hand instead. Jill held her other hand.

I don’t know how much time passed before the two NERO soldiers suddenly appeared, but I think it had only been a few hours. Meri had passed out not long after her diagnosis, and slept fitfully the entire time. But next thing I knew, there they were, armed and everything.

Then they told Jill that they were flying all of the scientists to another location, and demanded she come with them immediately.

“Hell no!” she’d protested.

“We don’t have time to argue,” one of them said. “Besides, your kid’s either gonna turn or die soon, anyway.”

“She said no, you prick!” I said. I could feel Suvi’s hand on my shoulder.

“She doesn’t have a choice,” the asshole argued. I hadn’t seen his partner move, but suddenly they had Jill by one arm and were tugging her away from Meri’s bedside.

“You fucking son of a—“ I started forward when they’d grabbed her, but was immediately cut off by the two rifle barrels suddenly pointing at me. I could feel Suvi clutching at my arm now.

“Turn loose of the girl and come with us,” the other asshole ordered, “Or I shoot your friends.”

“Gil, Suvi, it’s okay,” Jill said, pressing a kiss to the back of Meri’s hand and putting it down, and I could feel a surge of rage welling up at my helplessness to stop any of this.

“We’ll stay with her, we promise,” Suvi said, and before we could do anything else, Jill was ushered out of the medical tent.

I hadn’t realized that complete silence had fallen over the medical tent until I heard Vetra snarl “Motherfuckers” after the NERO guys left with Jill.

“Where are they taking mom?” Meri suddenly asked, and that was also when I realized she’d been awake for most, or all, of that confrontation.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I answered, taking her hand again. That was when I realized a third, then a fourth, thing.

“Where are all the doctors?” someone at another bedside said.

“They’re all leaving,” Sid answered the tent at large. There were gasps and denials, and several people ran outside to confirm what she’d said. I glanced up at her and Vetra as they arrived at Meri’s bed, and that was when I noticed they had all of our backpacks.

“It’s true,” Vetra said. “I heard one of them mention that there was a massive horde headed this way. We have less than ten minutes to get the hell out of here.” More gasps and denials went around. Then someone came back.

“She’s right,” the woman said. “All the NERO people are gone and I just saw the last helicopter take off.”

“What the fuck??” someone else shouted.

“Where are we supposed to go?” a third person demanded.

Not that anyone had an answer, of course. Suvi reached down and started unhooking Meri’s IV, and several other people started moving around.

And then

“HORDE INCOMING!!!! HORDE INCOMING!!!!!” a man ran by the tent shouting.

#mass effect: andromeda #gil brodie #vetra nyx #sidera nyx #suvi anwar #gilder #fan fiction #days gone au

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petertingle-yipyip · 4 years

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Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Nine: Used To Be

// WHB Masterlist //

//Series Inspo: @stuckonspidey @cxptain-capsicle // Series Tags: @writingsbychlo @mc225g @fandom-princess-forevermore @istg-lyssa-stop @olliekookie @rosegoldhome @chubsluda @missmulti @eternaleviee @freerebel @peterparker-glee-other @disgustangg @jackiehollanderr@imsobored3000 @eridanuswave @drunklili //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 14,475

Summary: Five years is a long time, but it’s time that Tony takes to rebuild his life and his family. He never forgot his oldest daughter, but he did learn to move on. When Steve comes to him asking for help, can Tony get things back to they way they Used To Be?

Things weren’t what they used to be on Earth. No one understood the full extent of what was lost. Half of humanity was gone, that much was the easy part to understand. But what no one knew how to cope with, was why it was the people they loved.

Tony hated that Y/N and Peter were gone. Steve hated that Bucky, and as far as he knew, Tony was gone. Okoye had lost T’Challa and Shuri. Rocket lost all the Guardians. Sam, Stephen Strange, Wanda, and millions of others had turned to ash in front of their friends and loved ones. There is no way to cope with that. And Pepper… Pepper didn’t know what she had lost.

Nebula and Tony were left to find a way home from Titan. They were the only two on that planet that survived. While Tony was friendly to Nebula, he couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. The place where his daughter had been, where the ghost of his daughter is.

“What was her name?” Nebula suddenly asked. They had been playing finger football, a game so ordinary that it felt out of place to do in that ship. “Your daughter.”

“Y/N.” Tony said softly. “Her name is Y/N.”

He emphasized the word ‘is’. His brain was refusing to admit that she had disappeared before his eyes. He loved her. He raised her. He had done everything in his power to protect her, and he still failed her. He knew that he should’ve sent her home the minute he sent Peter home. But that didn’t work for the kid either.

Thinking of Peter hurt Tony almost as bad as thinking of Y/N. He remembered that he had told Y/N not to get too attached to Peter because he wasn’t meant to be a permanent addition to their lives, but he ended up finding a place in their hearts. A place in their family.

“I’m sorry you lost her.” Nebula said earnestly, despite her voice being the same monotonous voice she always used.

“Yeah… Me too.” He nodded carefully. “So you won!” He exclaimed, feigning happiness. He didn’t think he could sit and talk about Y/N any longer. It was still so fresh, the image of losing his only daughter. “Have fun?” Tony asked, offering his hand to shake.

“It was fun.” Nebula nodded, shaking his hand.

That was less than a week after Thanos and the battle on Titan. It was pushing the three week mark, maybe even beyond it, by the time he was able to gather the strength to make the message he was dreading. He leaned forward to tap the side of his damaged helmet.

“Guess I should say something, huh?” Tony sighed, a heavy sadness falling on him. “I don’t know, Y/N/N, maybe there’s nothing to say. You’ll never get the chance to see this, and maybe that’s my fault. This is just so I know that I said it to you, even if you can’t hear it…

“Y/N, honey, I’m sorry. I wish more than anything I could’ve saved you. Because you and your mother were what got me out of bed everyday. You were undoubtedly the best thing to ever happen to me. And if I had the chance, I’d trade my life for yours.

“Oh, man. This is hard. I love you, so so much. More than I could ever put into words… But I guess you did that when you were a kid, huh? Forever and ever... Just didn’t think there’d be an end to our forever.

“Well, I’m not gonna bore you with the details of what’s going over here. Just wanted to check in and let you know that I love you and I really messed up time. I failed you, and I have to live with that… Just- Just know that when the inevitable catches up to me and I can’t pull an ace out my sleeve - that ace was usually you - that I’m gonna think about you. Love you, Cupcake.”

Tony ended that message and decided he had to deliver one more. There was someone else who needed to hear Tony’s voice, for possibly the last time.

“This thing on?” He opened with. Tony wanted to leave a message for Pepper, praying that she was okay. But a different part of him was afraid there was going to be no one to receive the message. “ Hey, Miss Potts... Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so.” Tony didn’t think he could cope with losing his wife and daughter. “Today is day 21, uh 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there. You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it... And Pep, I- I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about the two people that meant the world to me… And that’s you and Y/N.... Because it's always you two.”

Nebula helped Tony off the floor and into one of the seats. She even got him a blanket. Nebula knew there was nothing left to do for Tony. There was no way to get the Benatar back to Earth, and no way to help Tony. He would die in the middle of nowhere in space, alone.

As Tony was drifting off, a bright light shone in his face. He tried to ignore it, but it grew brighter and brighter until he couldn’t ignore it. When he opened his eyes, he saw a woman. A woman with blonde hair, a red and blue suit, and glowing a strange blue glow. But Tony didn’t care to ask how she found them. Maybe she could get them home. He felt hope in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in weeks.

And that was exactly what she did. The mysterious space woman was able to guide the Benatar back to Earth, more specifically to the Avengers Compound. Inside was Steve, Nat, Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey. The incoming ship caused the compound to shake, steadily picking up intensity until the Benatar landed. Nebula helped Tony out the ship and down to the ground as Steve ran to his friend to help.

“Couldn’t stop him.” Tony managed as he walked with Steve.

“Neither could I.” Steve admitted. Steve glanced behind Tony, expecting to see Y/N right behind him.

“I lost the kids.” Tony mumbled, saying it out loud to someone who wasn’t there to see it made it feel fresh again. The image of his daughter disappearing mid-sentence and then the image of Peter disappearing in his arms flashed in his mind.

“Tony, we lost.” Steve said, hoping to console and show solidarity.

“Is uh..” Tony couldn’t ask the question. He couldn’t get his brain to ask Is Pepper alive.

“Oh my god!” Pepper said, rushing to Tony so she could hug him tightly. “Oh my god!”

“It’s okay.” Tony said gently as he held her close. And for the first time in nearly a month, something actually was okay.

Tony now sat inside, an IV inserted into his arm as everyone tried to brief him on what he missed on Earth. The words Rhodey spoke held no weight in Tony’s frazzled mind. Behind his friend were projections, images that resembled mugshots. Images that showed the people that were gone. Some were smiling, like Peter’s, while others were more serious, like his daughter’s.

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey began.

But Tony’s mind wandered. He saw things that were his daughter’s. Her childhood drawings were still on the fridge. Her picture was still hanging on the wall. A framed photo of her and Peter was still on the desk. The mask plate to her first suit was still on the corner of her desk, right beneath her computer screen.

“So where is he?” Tony asked, suddenly full of anger. Full of pain.

“We don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “He just opened a portal and walked through…. Tony, you and Y/N fought him.”

“What?” Tony asked in shock. “Who told you that? No, he wiped my face with a planet and used my daughter as a punching bag while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the Stone. There was no fight, alright? He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues?” Steve pressed. He knew he shouldn’t have. He knew he should’ve let Tony rest and ask questions later. But his own grief was pushing him to continue, pushing him to find some sort of lead. “Any coordinates? Anything?” Steve was practically begging.

“I saw this coming a few years back.” Tony said casually, in an ‘I-Told-You-So’ type way. “I had a vision… I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. You know, I told Y/N about it? And she was ready to wade through Hell and high water with me, if that’s what it took.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.” Steve tried to steer Tony back to the present.

“And I needed you.” Tony emphasized. His anger now to a point that he didn’t care to try to control. “As in past tense. Oh, and so did Y/N. Did you know she looked for you for weeks after Germany?”

“No, I didn’t know.” He admitted sadly. “But you knew. Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Because obviously, we can’t count on you for anything.” Tony replied simply. “But that trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy. Sorry.” Tony shrugged weakly. “You know what I need? I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-” Tony’s balance faltered as he went for Steve, but Rhodey was able to catch him. Rhodey tried to calm Tony, but the stubborn man continued his rage fueled rant. “Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not- that’s what we needed!”

“Well, that didn’t work out. Did it?” Steve snapped. He understood that Tony was in pain, that Tony was grieving arguably more than he was. But Steve wanted to find a way to bring everyone back, to fix what they couldn’t stop. “We’ve got to do something. We owe it to those people-”

“I don’t owe anybody shit!” Tony countered angrily. “I owe my daughter a future. I owe Peter a future. But I can’t give it to them now, because you were too concerned about our freedoms. Look where that got up, Cap.” Tony said, his arms out to the side in a grand gesture.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony continued, his voice no longer full of rage. Instead, his voice was soft, the voice of a man who had given up. Who had lost everything. “You said ‘We’ll do that together too’. And guess what? We lost. And you weren’t there… But that’s what we do, right?” Tony’s anger was resurfacing as his daughter’s face flashed on the holograms again. “We’re the Avengers, we’re the Avengers. Not the Pre-vengers?”

“You made your point.” Rhodey tried, hoping to settle his unstable friend. Rhodey knew Tony better than anyone, could read him better than everyone. He could see the grief in his face, the loss in his eyes. Tony had been through a lot in the past ten years, since Loki first came to New York. But losing his daughter and the kid he had been mentoring at the same time, in the same way, that was a whole different kind of hurt. A kind of hurt that no person deserved. “Just sit down, okay?”

“Nah, nah.” Tony scoffed. “Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey tried again.

“She’s great, by the way.” He pointed to the mysterious space woman. He learned her name was Carol Danvers, an Air Force pilot from the 80’s who had gotten her powers by exploding a Kree reactor. “We need you. You’re new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” He ranted as he crossed the room to stand face-to-face with Steve. “I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” He spat, the venom soaked his words. Tony didn’t care to be polite or kind. Tony didn’t care about anything anymore. He pulled his housing unit off his chest and slammed it into Steve’s hand. “Here. Take this. You find him, and you put that on. Then you hide.”

“Tony-”

“No, cause that’s what you’re good at, right?” Tony mocked. “Hiding? Running away when people need you the most? You lost someone a month ago? So what. I lost my daughter. I don’t care who you lost. It’s not the same. So don’t talk to me like it is.” After that sentence, Tony fell to the floor, losing consciousness on the way down. But he dreamt of her.

You’re twelve years old, designing your own suit. You aren’t planning any of the specifics. You don’t worry about the technical aspects or the functionality of it. You are more concerned with what it would look like. You draw a suit like your dad’s, red with gold accents and the centerpiece of a glowing, blue Arc Reactor. You draw the suit without the mask, filling it in with your own face instead.

“Dad?” You ask, running up to his desk and waving your paper at him. “Dad, when can I be a superhero? I want to be like you!”

Tony laughs a little, picking you up and placing you in his lap. He stares at you with a delighted smile and proud eyes. He doesn’t know how he got as lucky as he is, but he thanks the universe everyday that he has you. “How about this?” He says happily, sliding the glove he’s working on onto your hand. The glove tightens to fit your skinny wrist, lighting up and moving with your hand. “This is a starter piece. When you build the rest of the suit around it, you can be a superhero.”

“Do I get a superhero name?” You ask excitedly, posing heroically with your dad’s glove. “Something cool, like yours!”

“Nope, you don’t get to copy mine.” He shakes his head with finality. “You’ve gotta come up with your own.”

“But I want something cool like yours..” You whine.

“How about this? You can buy it for the low, low price of a million dollars.” He offers with a wink.

You huff and cross your arm, thinking of a counter offer. “How about my dessert for the next month and I promise to only put on the suit when you need help. I’ll be your sidekick!”

“Hmm, no.” He shakes his head, putting you back on the ground and pulling the glove off your hand. “Nope. Iron Man works alone.”

“But Tony Stark works with Y/N Stark.” You counter with a coy smile. “So it’s not ‘Iron Man’ working with anyone. It’s like father-daughter bonding!”

“Father-daughter bonding.” Tony laughs. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that on your mom later when she asks why you’re always drawing suits.”

“You’re the best.” You smile.

“I know.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I know.”

“Forever.” You hold your hand out for him to take.

“And ever.” He grins, taking your hand. You two lift your joined hands up and then come back down, solidifying your promise. No matter what happens, you know you’ll always love and trust you’ll dad. You’ll follow him anywhere, help him with anything. And Tony knows just how amazing you’re going to be, and he couldn’t be prouder.

Outside the room where Tony rested, the others talked about going after Thanos. They had managed to pinpoint where Thanos was, thanks to Nebula’s help. Bruce tried to reason with the small group, acknowledging that they were lacking in numbers. Carol was the one who suggested using the Stones to bring everyone back. While it seemed unlikely, impossible even, the Avengers knew there was no other option.

Later that day, everyone except Tony was aboard the Benatar and headed to Thanos. But they were too late. Thanos had used the Stones to destroy the Stones, leaving no chance of changing what he had done. The only outcome that had any effect was that Thor decapitated the Titan, offering himself closure but no real comfort.

There were no options left, no hope. No second chances. All of those that were left had no choice but to move on, to start over. But no matter how much time passed, there was a void in everyone’s hearts. A void that no amount of time could heal, that no new people could replace. But people had to try.

Five years had passed. Five years since Tony had watched Peter and Y/N fade away. He could finally talk about her without wanting to cry. He could remember her fondly instead of painfully. He could tell Morgan about her without feeling like he was leaving her behind. He wouldn’t say he felt whole again, but he had learned how to live with the hollow feeling. He knew Pepper was beside him, feeling the same emptiness that he did. But Tony would argue that he felt it deeper since he watched her go, since he heard her final sentence be cut short.

Tony wandered his property, clapping his hands. He had hoped that would’ve gotten their attention.

“Chow time!” He announced happily. But when he got no response, he called her name. “Maguna? Morgan H. Stark. You want some lunch?” He sat on a log near a small tent, waiting for Morgan’s appearance.

She came out of the tent wearing an all-too-familiar helmet. “Define lunch or be disintegrated.” She responded playfully.

“Okay, you should not be wearing that, okay?” Tony said, gently taking the helmet off her head only to be greeted by a mischievous smile that reminded him of Y/N. “That was a part of Y/N’s first suit designs. She was very proud of this.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Are you thinking about lunch?” Tony continued his original conversation. “I can give you a handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce.” He teased.

“No.” Morgan laughed.

“That’s what you want.” Tony joked. “How did you find this?”

“Garage.”

“Really? Were you looking for it?”

“No!” She responded quickly. “I found it, though. Y/N had all the cool stuff.”

“Yeah, she did.” He smiled fondly. “You like going to the garage, huh? So does daddy.. It’s fine, actually. Y/N hadn’t touched that thing since she upgraded.”

As Tony was walking Morgan back into the house, a black car rolled up. Steve, Scott, and Nat exited the vehicle. Tony hadn’t heard from them since he returned to Earth five years ago, so he knew whatever they wanted to talk to him about wouldn't be anything he had wanted to be involved in.

They talked on the porch, Scott explaining his wild idea.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott tried to reason.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony offered. The three looked between each other, visibly confused, as Tony handed each of them a drink.

“Thank you.” Steve quickly added politely.

“In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” Tony simplified.

“I did.” Scott defended.

“No, you accidentally survived.” Tony corrected. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a… What do you call it?”

“A time heist.” Scott chuckled.

“Yeah, a time heist.” Tony nodded. “Of course, why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipe-dream?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Scott pushed.

“We can snap our own fingers.” Nat added. “We can bring everyone back.”

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony countered.

“I don’t believe we would.” Steve said honestly.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won’t help if there is no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist,” Tony said firmly. “I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise.”

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.” Scott defended. “That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Scott. Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back to the Future?” The fact that it was reminded Tony of Peter, the way he made plans based on what he saw in movies.

“No.” Scott answered, now embarrassed.

“Good. You had me worried there.” Tony nodded. “Cause that’d be horse shit. That’s not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony..” Nat pressed. “We have to take a stand.”

“We did stand.” He replied sadly. “And yet, here we are.. Some of us, anyway.”

“I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.” Scott desperately said. He practically begged for Tony’s help. “And now- now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you’re telling me you won’t even-”

“That’s right, Scott. I won’t even. I got a kid.” Tony agreed. “I already lost my daughter, five years ago. She would’ve been twenty two this year, but I watched her turn to dust. So, no. I won’t.”

“Mommy told me to come save you.” Morgan said as she ran up to her dad, who picked her up easily.

“Good job, I’m saved.” He told her before turning to Steve. “I wish you’d come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I- I missed you guys, It was… Oh, and the table’s set for six.”

“Tony, I get it.” Steve spoke up. “And I’m happy for you. I really am. But this is a second chance for all of us.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap.” Tony sighed. “I can’t roll the dice again. If you don’t talk shop, you can stay for lunch.”

“You think if it was the other way around, and you were gone, Y/N would say no?” Steve tried.

“You think Y/N would risk all of your lives just for me?” Tony scoffed.

“I think Y/N would take on Thanos by herself if it meant she could get you back.” Steve said simply. “You were everything to her and you know that. If there was even the slightest chance to get you back, she would do it.”

“She was a kid.” Tony argued, careful not to raise his voice since he was holding Morgan still. “She’d be stupid to try your Time Heist. The answer is no, Steve. I’m sorry, but I’m not losing again.”

Later that night, Tony was washing dishes after dinner. He had accidentally rinsed a spoon with too much water, and it shot out on the surrounding photo frames. When he was drying them off, he realized it was the photo of him, Y/n and Peter took with his Stark Internship certificate. The excitement in Peter’s eyes was obvious, as was the admiration in Y/N’s. He figured he might as well run some numbers, see what the actual probability of the Time Heist was.

“And don’t worry if it doesn’t pan out. I’m just kinda-” Tony rambled as F.R.I.D.A.Y. completed the sim.

“Model rendered.” Her automated voice said, showing a 99.987% success rate.

“Shit!” Tony exclaimed with a chuckle.

“Shit.” A small voice repeated from behind him.

“What are you doing up, little miss?” He whispered.

“Shit.” She repeated.

“No, we don’t say that. Only Mommy says that word. She coined it, belongs to her.”

“Why you up?”

“Cause I got some important shit going on here.” Morgan gave her dad a look. “What do you think? No, I got something on my mind… I got something on my mind.”

“Was it Juice pops?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“Sure was.” Tony nodded. “That’s extortion. Great minds think alike. Juice pops, exactly was on my mind.” Tony said, leading Morgan to the kitchen after glancing at the rendered model one last time.

After the two got their Juice Pops, Tony brought Morgan back to her room.

“That face goes there.” Tony said, pushing Morgan’s face into her pillow.

“Tell me a story.” Morgan said tiredly.

“Once upon a time, Maguna went to bed. The end.”

“That’s a horrible story.” She laughed.

“C’mon, that’s your favorite story.”

“Tell me a story about Y/N.”

“A story about Y/N..” Tony repeated. He thought of what story to tell Morgan. He had so many amazing memories with his daughter, so many laughs, so many triumphs. But there were just as many pitfalls. Every high had a low. “Once upon a time, there was a girl named Y/N. She was super smart and crazy popular, just like her dad. She wanted to be a superhero. She wanted to help people. But she wanted to help her dad the most. And she did. She helped her dad everyday from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep. And then she did it all again the next day. But then, she had to go. She didn’t want to, but she had to.”

“She coming back?” Morgan asked, her eyes half shut.

“Love you tons.” Tony smiled, not wanting to promise anything. Tony wasn’t even sure he wanted to do anything with his successful model.

“I love you 3000.” Morgan replied.

I love you forever. And ever.

“Wow.” He whispered. “3000. That’s crazy… Go to bed or I’ll sell all your toys.”

He went downstairs and found Pepper, reading a book on composting. He tried to listen, but his attention kept shifting back to the successful model that still illuminated his table.

“I figured it out, by the way.” He interjected, unable to keep it in any longer.

“You know, just so we’re talking about the same thing-” Pepper said, wanting to make sure she knew what he meant.

“Time travel.”

“What?” She asked in obvious amazement. “Wow… That’s amazing and terrifying.”

“That’s right.”

“We got really lucky.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“A lot of people didn’t.”

“No, I can’t help everybody.”

“It sort of seems like you can.” Pepper pressed. “Or at least help the person you even considered this for.”

“Not if I stop.” Tony countered. “I can put a pin in it right now, and stop.”

“Trying to get you to stop had been one of the few failures of my life.” She joked. “And so was trying to get Y/N to stop..”

“I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake… Go to bed.”

“But would you be able to rest?” She offered gently. “Tony, you did all of this because there’s the chance that you can get our daughter back. I know that’s why you did it. And I also know that you’ve hardly gotten any real rest in the past five years. You’re happy with Morgan, but you still need Y/N.”

“She was the best parts of both of us.” He smiled fondly.

“And the worst parts of you.” Pepper joked.

“She was not!” Tony said, feigning offense.

“She was just as stubborn as you are!”

“I can get her back..” He whispered, as if the words hadn’t truly set in yet. There was a viable chance to bring Y/N back. And he had to take it. “Morgan is gonna love her.”

“Morgan already loves her.” Pepper laughed.

The next day, Tony rode over to the Compound. He was conflicted still. Yes, he had the chance to get his daughter back but was it worth risking the daughter he had now? Tony would have to make sure that he didn’t lose what he found. As he drove up, Steve was waiting outside, seemingly distraught.

“Why the long face?” Tony asked as he rolled down his window. “Let me guess. He turned into a baby.” Tony teased, jumping out the car and heading to the trunk.

“Among other things.” Steve answered hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony explained. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you pushed time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Someone should’ve cautioned you against it.”

“You did.”

“Oh, did I?” Tony joked. “Thank God I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He proudly lifted his newest toy. “A fully functional time-space GPS. I just want peace.” Tony threw up a peace sign. “Turns out resentment is corrosive. I hate it.”

“Me too.” Steve agreed.

“We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities. Bring back what we lost? I hope to God, yes. I’d absolutely love to have Y/N and Peter back. Keep what I got? I have to, at all costs. I can’t lose another kid, Cap. And… maybe not die trying would be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Steve smiled, offering his hand for Tony to shake. “We’re gonna get her back.” Before heading inside, Tony pulled something else out of the trunk. He had a new shield for Steve.

“Tony…” Steve hesitated.

“Why?” Tony questioned. “He made it for you. Plus, I don’t think Y/N would recognize you without it and I need to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

“Thank you.” Steve said honestly.

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” Tony stopped and turned to Steve. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that.” Steve replied.

Tony worked with Bruce and Scott to design the Quantum Suits. They resembled the Ant-Man suit with Stark styling. Nebula contributed the helmet design. She said Peter Quill used the same tech. Tony jokingly called her friends the Rings of Uranus. The only thing left was a test run, to which Clint volunteered for.

After the test was successful, they had to figure out when to go to get the Stones. Nat and Clint went after the Soul Stone, Thor and Rocket for the Reality Stone, Bruce for the Time Stone, Tony and Scott for the Tesseract which contained the Space Stone, Steve went for the Mind Stone, and Rhodey and Nebula went for the Power Stone. Everyone had enough Pym particles for one round trip. No one could afford to mess up.

“We can all stand around posing up a storm later.” Past Tony said, hauling Loki to his feet. “By the way, feel free to clean up.”

While the familiar scene played out in front of Tony and Scott, they conversated with Steve about the unflattering fit of his old suit. Scott said that he could tell the undercover HYDRA agents, because they even looked like bad guys.

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS had alerted 2012 Y/N, unbeknownst to either Tony. “There appears to be a second Tony Stark in the building. Your father is descending in the elevator with the others. Should I alert Mr. Stark?”

“What?” 2012 Y/N questioned, leaving the table in your dad’s lab to see the projection JARVIS had given you. It was Y/N’s dad but older. He carried himself with the same Stark pride, but Y/N could tell something heavy was weighing on his shoulders. “Where is this?”

“He is headed to the ground floor.” JARVIS replied. “Dr. Banner is in the stairwell so it seems he’ll be taking the elevator.”

“I’ll intercept him.” 2012 Y/N said, her curiosity taking over. “Let me know if he changes course.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

2012 Y/N headed out of the lab and towards one of the elevators. Y/N knew her dad and the rest of the team was heading down with Loki. The SHIELD team designated to take the Scepter would be in a different elevator. So she had hoped she’d get an empty one and you did. She quickly made her way to the ground floor, able to beat her dad’s doppelganger.

“Who are you?” 2012 Y/N asked when face to face with the older version of her dad. “Well, I know who you are but it doesn’t make sense.”

“Uh, Y/N..” He said softly. A part of him knew that he would see her, but he still wasn’t prepared for it. She was so young, so innocent. The fights and bruises and scars and tiredness hadn’t gotten to her yet. “What are you doing down here? I thought you were working on-”

“I was in the lab until JARVIS told me-” She began before shaking her head quickly. “Don’t distract me! When are you from?”

“Y/N, hon, listen.” Tony said, a slight sigh in his voice. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes. Please. Just pretend you never saw me.”

“Pretend I-” She said in shock. “Do you really expect me to forget that an older Tony Stark lookalike was wandering the Tower the exact day Loki was here? No, you came here for a reason.”

“Y/N?” 2012 Tony called, drawing her attention.

“Don’t move.” She told Tony before hurrying to her dad.

“Alright, move it Stuart Little.” Tony said to Scott, who had slid into 2012 Tony’s Arc Reactor. “Things are getting a little dicey and she won’t leave me alone for long.”

“You promise me you won’t die?” Scott checked.

“You’re only giving me a mild cardiac dysrhythmia.”

“That doesn’t sound mild.”

“Pull my pin!” Tony insisted quietly.

“Here goes!” Scott exclaimed before disconnecting 2012 Tony’s reactor. 2012 Tony fell to the ground, grasping his chest. 2012 Y/N dropped to her knees, calling for a medic. Scott kicked the case to Tony, who picked it up and headed off. Just as it seemed to have gone to plan, 2012 Hulk came barrelling through the door as he yelled about hating stairs. The door flying opened knocked the case from Tony’s hands and sent the Tesseract sliding away.

So Tony and Scott sat in a broken down car, waiting for Steve to leave the Tower. They had one chance. It had to be perfect, but it wasn’t. He had the Tesseract in his hand and he lost it.

“Sorry, buddy.” Tony explained when Steve came out. “We got a problem.”

“Huh, yeah we do.” Scott agreed quickly.

“Well, what are we gonna do now?” Steve asked in defeat.

“You know what, give me a break Steve.” Tony defended himself. “Y/N just interrogated me like I was in cahoots with Loki and I got hit in the head with a Hulk.”

“You talked to Y/N?” Steve asked with raised eyebrows. He was almost insinuating that his conversation with Y/N was the reason he lost the Tesseract.

“No, it was more like she was yelling at me for being in my own building.” Tony countered. “Imagine that. My own daughter scolding me for being in my building.”

“You said we had one shot. This- this was our shot. We shot it. It’s shot.” Scott ranted anxiously. “Six stones or nothing. Six stones or nothing.”

“You’re repeating yourself, you know that?” Tony interrupted. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“You’re repeating yourself.” Scott countered childishly. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“I dropped the ball.” Tony said simply.

“You ruined the time heist.” Scott whined.

“Is that what I did?”

“Yeah!”

“Are there any other options with the Tesseract?” Steve asked loudly, trying to refocus the two.

“No, no, no. There’s no other options. There’s no do-overs. We’re not going anywhere else.” Scott argued. “We have one particle left. Each. That’s it, alright? We use that- Bye bye. You’re not going home.”

“Well if we don’t try-” Steve emphasized. “No one else is going home either. Not Bucky.. Not Hope.. And not Y/N.”

“I got it.” Tony said simply. “There’s another way, to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. We’ll stroll down memory lane, military installation. Garden State.”

“When were they both there?” Steve questioned.

“They were there at a- I’ve a vaguely exact idea.”

“How vague?”

While Tony and Steve conversated as if it was obvious, Scott was left in the dark to ask questions that no one would answer. Tony told Scott to get back to the Compound, while he and Steve went to the 70’s. Tony headed off to find the Tesseract, where he ran into his father on the way. Steve went to find Dr. Pym, where he saw Peggy on his way.

“I guess I’ll be eating dinner in the pantry again.” Howard joked.

“I have a little girl. Well, two girls but my oldest is in high school.” Tony said with a proud smile.

“A girl would be nice… Less of a chance she’d turn out exactly like me.”

“What’d be so awful about that?” Tony asked. “My oldest is just like me.”

“Let’s just say that the greater good has rarely outweighed my own self-interests.”

“Where are you with names?” Tony asked, trying to make light conversation until Steve showed up.

“My wife likes Elmonzo for a boy.”

“Might wanna let that stew awhile.. You got time.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Howard said in turn. “When your kid was born- either of them- were you nervous?”

“Wildly, yeah.” Tony laughed. “But those two are the best things that ever happened to me.”

The two finished their conversation before Tony snuck off with Steve. The two went back to the present, where they met with the rest of the team. Everyone except Natasha. She had given up her life so Clint could bring back the Soul Stone. After a tense interaction by the lake, they agreed that Nat’s sacrifice had to be worth it. It had to work.

Rocket and Tony fit the Stones into a Gauntlet. Thor argued to be the one to snap, his personal grief was leaking out. He wanted to do something right, to help fix what he didn’t stop. But Bruce was the one to snap. He said he was made for it since the radiation from the Stones was mostly gamma.

“Remember, just bring back everyone Thanos snapped away to today. Don’t change anything from the past five years.” Tony reminded his friend.

“Got it.” Bruce nodded.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. do me a favor and activate Barn Door protocol. Will you?” Tony asked as he gave Bruce space.

Metal sheets covered every window in the Compound, locking down the facility. Bruce put on the gauntlet, screaming in pain as the power surged his body. Painfully, he snapped his fingers before passing out, allowing the gauntlet to slide from his hand.

Everyone waited, time seemingly froze. They had no idea if it had worked. They started to wonder if it had been for nothing. Until Clint’s phone rang. It was his wife, his wife who had been lost in the Snap five years prior. They could hear the birds outside the Compound. Everything seemed to be looking up, until a barrage of missiles hit the Compound.

Back on Titan, you finished your original thought.

“-ever.” You said slowly, stepping in a small circle. Your dad was gone. But Quill and the rest of his friends were back, holding onto each other and checking on one another. Strange was there, watching as if he was waiting for something specific to change whatever path you were all on. “Peter…” When you didn’t get a response, you tried again. “Peter!?”

“What?” Quill yelled.

“Not you, moron.” You rolled your eyes. “Where’s my Peter?” You asked Strange.

“Why would I know that?” Strange questioned.

“You seem to know everything else.” You rolled your eyes. “While we’re at it, where’s my dad?”

“And Nebula.” Quill added.

“What happened?” You asked finally.

“Y/N?” Peter asked from the ground. He was laying on his back a few feet away from you. “What the hell just happened?”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in relief. You rushed to his side and dropped to your knees. He quickly took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “Are you alright?”

“Little queasy but otherwise, I think I’m alright.” He offered a small smile.

“Hey, promise me something.” You said quickly, your joy of seeing him again taking over any rational thoughts.

“Anything.” He grinned.

“Once everything is in the clear, you take me on a date.” You said with a smirk. “A real date too, not just hanging out at my place.”

“Uh, yeah!” He said happily. “Yeah, for sure. Any- anything you want, Y/N.”

“We need to get back to Earth.” Strange announced. “It’s been five years since Thanos and the fight on this planet. Thanos won and snapped his fingers, wiped out half of all life. The ones left on Earth managed to reverse what Thanos did, which is how we’re all here right now.”

“So where’s my dad?” You asked again, helping Peter to his feet. “If we’re all back and everything was reversed, why isn’t he here with us?”

“Your dad didn’t disappear when we did. He’s back on Earth but Thanos is there, right now. We need to get to Earth.”

“In case you forgot, my suit is wrecked.” You laughed. “When we fought Thanos last time, we got our asses kicked. What makes this time different? Is this the one?”

“I can’t tell you that. But it’s different because you’ll be together this time.” Strange vaguely answered. “Now, you need to get to your lab to deal with all of that.” He gestured to your lack of a suit, as well as the gash you had forgotten about.

Strange opened a portal to a lake house. He stepped through and motioned for you to follow. When you crossed through, you didn’t recognize the area. The lake was new. The house was new. A lot had changed in five years apparently. A gentle squeeze of your hand let you know Peter was with you.

“Wait…” You said, taking a couple cautious steps forward. “Where are we? I thought you were taking me to my lab. My suit is- I need-”

“You’re where you’re supposed to be.” Strange interjected. “Go to the front door.”

“I’m not going up to a random person’s front door.” You laughed.

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter interjected quietly, pointing to something low behind you. You slowly turned and saw a small girl standing behind you, staring at you in confusion.

“Hi.” You said awkwardly. “What, uh- What’s your name?”

“Morgan.” She smiled. “Who are you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but saw something familiar around her neck. You knelt to her level, reaching for the pendant but deciding against it. You noted small details about her. Her brown hair, her round face. She seemed sweet, welcoming. Her eyes were kind, full of wonder and hope for the world. You wondered if she knew what happened five years ago.

“That’s a pretty necklace.” You commented. It was the prototype housing unit you designed. After you wore it, you realized you didn’t like the long necklace so you ditched it for the bracelets. The necklace was still a cute accessory, but you wondered how Morgan got it. “Can I ask where it came from?”

“Garage.” She said simply, her small fingers grasping the pendant. “Daddy said Y/N would let me have it.”

“Who’s Y/N?” You asked carefully.

“Daddy said she wanted to be a superhero, but she left. She was smart and popular.”

“Y- Your daddy?” You stammered. “Is your dad’s name Tony?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s just Daddy.”

“Okay, fair enough.” You chuckled. “Listen, I uh- I know your dad. Can you take me to the garage? The garage where you found the necklace.”

“I have to ask Mommy.” She held out a hand for you to take. You stood and took her hand, reaching quickly for Peter with the other. “Do you know Mommy too?”

“Y/N, it’s okay.” He nodded, squeezing your hand once before stepping back. Once you felt his grip disappear, you nodded for Morgan to start walking.

“Yeah.” You said suddenly, remembering she had asked a question. “I knew her a few years ago, before this super crazy thing happened.”

“Crazy?”

“Totally.” You nodded, earning a small chuckle from her.

“Mommy!?” She yelled as she entered the home. “I found Y/N!”

“Wha- How did you know?” You said, stopping in your tracks.

“Daddy talks bout you a lot.” She said before pointing to a collection of photos on the wall. “And your picture is everywhere.”

“Huh.” You smiled. “Guess he did miss me.”

“Morgan, honey, what are you yelling about?” Your mom came around the corner. “Oh my god.”

“Hi mom.” You smiled, hurrying across the room to hug her tightly.

“I can’t believe it.” She mumbled into your shoulder. “You’re here. Oh, my god, you’re here. Your dad really did it.”

“Wait, Dad? What did he do?” You asked, the smile still stuck on your lips as you pulled away slightly. “How did he do it?”

“Your dad figured out time travel, Y/N.” She said, still in amazement.

“That’s awesome.” You laughed. “But also terrifying! Anyway, Morgan said she found some of my stuff in the garage… I need to reload my bracelets and if there’s time, update to Dad’s new network.”

“You’re not gonna find what you need in the garage.” She shook her head, heading to a table in a room off of the Living Room. “One, cause it’s a mess. Two, cause your dad told me to give you these if you came by.”

She handed you a set of bracelets, engraved with an arc reactor and the word Stark. They fit your wrist perfectly, a slight blue tint to the metal. They were light, light enough that you could barely tell you were wearing them.

“Woah.” You mumbled in amazement. “These are awesome.”

“And fully upgraded from what I heard.” Your mom added.

“No shit.” You exclaimed, tempted to tap them together and see what upgrades your dad gave you.

“Shit.” Morgan repeated from beside you.

“No, no, no!” You exclaimed quickly. “That’s an adult word, Morgan. You can’t say it.”

“Shit.” She giggled.

“No!” You whined. “Mom is gonna kill me!”

“You’re right about that.” She nodded.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” Strange said, suddenly at your side. “But we need to go. Pepper, you’re gonna wanna suit up and come too.”

“I forgot about Rescue!” You exclaimed.

“What about Morgan?” Pepper countered.

“Happy Hogan.” He said, gesturing to Happy who was sitting on your parents’ couch. “We have to go now. Steve Rogers is standing up to Thanos alone.”

“Alone?” You asked, a heavy feeling in your chest. “Where’s my dad?”

“We have to go.” Strange said simply.

“If I get there and he isn’t okay-” You said seriously, knocking your bracelets together. “You are going to be the one to answer for it.”

The suit was remarkably light. You watched the reflection in the window as the nanites spread to cover your body. It moved with ease, as if you weren’t wearing a suit at all. The design was sleek, the way you had always made your suits. It was colored to mimic your dad’s, but your dad had added more gold accents to yours. You wondered what else your dad had upgraded it with, but you knew you’d find out in time.

Strange turned and opened a portal for you, Peter, and your mom to step through. Your mom hurried into the room wearing Rescue. You all quickly went through, armed and ready to fight. The scene you came out to was insane. Strange and his friend Wong had gathered everyone willing to fight.

You recognized T’Challa and his sister Shuri, who you had yet to meet but knew to be brilliant. You saw Bucky and Wanda on the other side of the battlefield. Hundreds of people from Wakanda, spaceships full of people, a woman on a Pegasus, a woman who could shrink the way Scott could. People from all over the universe were collected for the fight.

You saw who you thought was Thor, now holding an axe and seemingly gained a belly the size of a basketball. Steve had a broken shield and Mjolnir, which didn’t quite surprise you. But you still couldn’t see your dad.

“Do you see him?” You asked Peter.

“I do.” Your mom answered. “He’s alright.”

“Avengers..” Steve said over comms. Your body tensed, your heart rate picked up. The adrenaline began rushing through your veins. You weren’t quite sure if it was fear or excitement taking over your thoughts, but you let it wash over you. You looked out at the vast army before you, stretching into what seemed like forever. You sent out a silent prayer to whatever God would hear you, asking to keep you on the one path that would save everyone. “Assemble.”

All hell broke loose. Fighters charged from either side. You were separated from Peter early, having to fend for yourself. Your new suit was highly responsive, picking up on things before they entered your peripherals. The power it had was insane, cutting through Thanos’ army like butter. Your dad had added new extensions to the suit; displacer sentries, stabilizing thrusters, energy refocusers, an upgraded unibeam, and liquid nitrogen cannons.

Finally, you made your way to your dad. The fighting seemed to go around you two, as if the universe knew you two needed a minute. You let your helmet fall away, as did your dad. You both stood frozen for a minute, wondering if it was real.

“I got back and you were gone.” You said simply, your throat now tight. You blamed it on the dirt being kicked up from the fight. “Strange didn’t tell me where you were… Kinda freaked me out.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna hang out on an abandoned planet for five years.” He tried to joke. “Had to get back to your mom.”

“When I came back, I- I thought you-” You felt the tears coming. “I thought you were gone, Dad. And not just gone, like somewhere else, but gone as in dead. And then I thought how I didn’t want to live without you and I- I got really scared, Dad.”

“Y/N/N..” He said gently. You quickly closed the distance between you two and hugged him tightly. “It’s alright. We’re alright.”

“I love you, forever.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“And ever.” He smiled.

You pulled away and sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. “You have to tell me how you did it later. Time travel!? That’s insane. Oh! And Morgan, she’s super cute.”

“Morgan?” Tony eyebrows furrowed. “You met Morgan?” He smiled softly.

“Yeah, I met her when I went to get Mom and this awesome new suit.” You smiled, gesturing grandly to the suit you wore. “Which is incredible, by the way. I’m in love.”

“Hey! Holy cow!” Peter exclaimed as he ran into your dad. “You will not believe what’s going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must’ve passed out, because I woke up and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like ‘It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.’ and then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time and-”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as Peter rambled. Your dad was watching him with a soft look in his eyes, glancing quickly between Peter and you. Tony felt a deep sense of relief, a heavy weight lifted from his chest by seeing you two in front of him. The two people that he wanted to bring back were now in front of him. You stepped behind Peter and nudged him forward. Peter stumbled into Tony, who hugged the boy tightly. “This is nice.” Peter said gently.

“As grateful as I am to have you two alive, we have bigger issues.” You commented, seeing the van that was sounding off with La Cucaracha. “We need to get the Stones to that van.”

“How long do you need to get it working?” Tony asked Scott.

“Ten minutes, maybe.” He answered.

“Who has the Stones?” You asked as you, your dad, and Peter jumped back into the fight. You dodged attacks from either side, effortlessly spinning and ducking shots and projectiles. You saw Clint running through the crowd, one arm tucked against his chest. “Clint has them but he’s gonna need help.”

You were headed that way when you felt your leg being dragged down. You looked and saw a Chitauri soldier had grabbed your ankle and was pulling you down to the ground. You let yourself fall for a moment before turning gravity against the Chitauri and getting your feet aligned with it’s chest. You bent your knees slightly, using the alien as a push off. The thrust from your boosters burnt the Chitauri’s wrist to the point where it released you. You quickly shot off a blast to put a hole in it’s chest as it hit the ground. Your attention turned back to Clint as you saw him become surrounded.

“Hey.” Tony told Strange below you, causing your path to stop so you could listen. “You said one out of 14 million we win, yeah? Tell me this is it.”

Strange glanced up and saw you waiting for his answer. “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

You rolled your eyes within your helmet and took off. T’Challa got to Clint so you changed your course. You decided on a bit of revenge until you were needed to help move the Stones. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., give me locations on Thanos and Peter.”

“Peter is approximately 36 feet to your left with Shuri, no critical damage to the suit indicates no dire injuries.” Her automated voice answered quickly. “Thanos is six feet straight ahead. Maximoff approaching the target.” She showed you a zoomed image of where the Titan was.

“Keep me posted when those Stones change hands.” You ordered as you landed next to Wanda.

“You took everything from me.” She said angrily.

“From us.” You added, charging a blast from your palm.

“I don’t even know who either of you are.” Thanos replied.

“You will.” Wanda said simply, her eyes glowing red as her power swirled around her.

You stood watching in awe for a moment before remembering where you were. You shot your blast at the charging Thanos, knocking him off balance. Wanda quickly followed up with two huge rock piles, both were knocked in pieces by his sword. Wanda launched quick bursts at him, each one more powerful than the last.

You flipped over Thanos, sending off shots from above and then behind him. Together, you and Wanda brought the Titan to his knees. Wanda kept applying pressure, Thanos groaning in pain.

“The Stones have transferred hands to Peter.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you.

“You got this?” You asked, your focus now completely shifted. “I gotta go.”

“Go.” She nodded.

You took off quickly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. guiding you to Peter’s location. You find him surrounded by Chitauri, but his artificial limbs assisted him in the fight. You landed with enough force to push the last few Chitauri away from him and into someone else’s attack.

“You know, I was on the fence about the instant-kill. But it came in handy, didn’t it?” You joked.

Peter chuckled before more Chitauri came at you both. They grabbed at you, throwing you to the side and focusing on Peter. Everytime you tried to help, five of them shoved you off. You heard Peter call for help, to which Steve threw Mjolnir for him to grab. You took off ahead of the Hammer, hoping to keep a clear path for Peter. Peter shot a web, using Mjolnir as a ride out of the chaos.

A shot from one of the ships sliced Peter’s web, sending him to the ground fast. You dropped until you were able to grab him.

“I’m always having to help you out, aren’t I?” You commented teasingly as you tossed him to the woman on the Pegasus. You flew alongside her until a shot came too close for you to successfully dodge and threw you into Peter. It knocked him off the Pegasus and sent both of you crashing to the ground.

Peter had gotten up and tried to run, to get the Stones a little bit closer. A blast from the cannon landed right in front of him, sending him flying backwards so he would land in front of you. The impact shattered his artificial limbs and he let his mask fall away. He grabbed the gauntlet and tucked into a ball to protect himself from the shots still coming. You pushed yourself to your side as you put up an energy shield over you and Peter.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., what are they firing at?” Tony asked as some of the cannons changed direction, the question playing in your helmet too as the system showed a projection of an incoming object.

“Something just entered the upper atmosphere.” She responded.

“Let’s hope it’s on our side.” You mumbled, momentarily dropping the shield to watch.

You looked up to see a bright flash of light break through one of the ships, disabling it and going through it once again to slice it in half. You were so impressed by the power it had that you almost didn’t notice the falling rubble.

“Little help would be nice!” You yelled over comms as you threw up another shield, to which Steve asked Danvers to help. You had assumed Danvers was the one who broke the ship in half so you kept still until help arrived. You dropped the shield and stared in awe as Peter spoke.

“Hi.” He said quickly, still keeping the gauntlet close. “I’m Peter Parker. She’s Y/N Stark.”

“So cool.” You said simply.

“Hey, Peter Parker.” She chuckled. “Y/N Stark. I saved your dad once. He ever tell you that?”

“He did not. But I came back to a giant war so there hasn’t really been time..” You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet and put your helmet on again.

“You got something for me?” She asked Peter, nodding towards the Stones.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.” Peter said tiredly as he stood and handed over the gauntlet.

You noted how tired he was, how beat up he was. But he was still ready to fight. Your heart ached, and you quickly realized that you didn’t just like Peter Parker. You loved Peter Parker. The revelation didn’t surprise you, but you wished it had come at a better time than that moment.

“Don’t worry.” Wanda said as she landed next to you.

“She’s got help.” One of the Wakandan warriors who you later learned to be Okoye added. Your mom joined the group, along with Pegasus woman, Valkyrie. Mantis, Hope Van Dyne, and Nebula showed up, along with Shuri and Nebula’s sister, Gamora. Together, you fought through the army to get the Stones to Scott’s van.

You and your mom focused your fire high, aiming at ships and taller enemies. You followed behind Danvers, working on keeping her path clear. Thanos charged Danvers, dead set on stopping her for the Stones. You, your mom, Shuri, and Hope shot beams at him, knocking him to the ground.

“After this, you gotta show me how you made those.” You yelled to Shuri, who looked over and laughed slightly. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Shuri. You seem to be doing well with what you have.” She teased. “Is it new?”

“First time in it.” You answered with a proud nod.

“Really, Y/N?” Your mom commented. “Now? Your dad just upgraded that suit for you.”

“You wanted me to make friends.” You defended, focusing back on the task at hand.

You all added extra force to throw Thanos back. He rolled, lifting his attention to where Danvers was headed. Since you all wouldn’t let him get to Danvers, he decided to destroy where she was headed. He threw his sword into the tunnel, destroying it and sending a massive energy wave that launched everyone back.

“The gauntlet is about twenty meters behind you.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. “Mr. Stark can reach it but Thanos is already on his way.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” You replied, pushing yourself to your feet. You took off in a sprint before pushing off a short ledge, taking flight and headed that way. You watched your dad tackle Thanos before getting elbowed away. Thor and Steve kept him back, using Mjolnir and Thor’s new axe to their aid. Danvers beat you there and fought him off a minute, until Thanos threw her to the side.

You helped your dad up to his knees and watched Thanos put the gauntlet on. You and your dad dropped your masks, not worried about them anymore.

“Not again.” You whispered fearfully.

Danvers came back just in time, stopping him from snapping his fingers. She had the upper hand until Thanos pulled out one Stone and used it to send her flying. Strange looked over at you two, holding up one finger to tell you both that there was only one way.

Your dad stood slowly, understanding what he was meant to do. You understood it at the same time so you grabbed his hand, hoping to pull him back to you. “Dad, please.” You begged. “No. No! It’s not worth it.”

“I can’t lose again.” He said softly.

“Think about Morgan.” You tried desperately. “A-and me. I just got you back.”

“I am thinking of you two.” He replied gently. “I love you, forever.” He said before running to Thanos, trying to take the Stones from him.

You looked to Strange again in anger. You wanted to take it out on Strange, but the look he gave you made you reconsider. Strange looked at you as if you had a role to play, as if it wasn’t just about Tony. You and your dad had been through everything together. You had been glued to his side since Loki first arrived in New York. Every fight, every training session, every injury, and every upgrade you were there. You started it together. You had to end it together.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., did my dad ever add the suit-to-suit interface to exchange nanites?” You asked quickly, running through the possibilities. “If he gets those Stones away from Thanos, it’s too much energy for him to handle. It needs to be dispersed.”

“It’s added but I’ll need time to activate it.” Her automated voice said. “Opening the entirety of both suits to interface with each other-”

“I don’t need a whole suit.” You cut her off. “My left palm. His right shoulder, upper shoulder. Clavicular region.”

“Less than a minute. Initiating interface.”

You ran over to your dad as he was knocked away. Your steps froze when Thanos raised his hand again and your dad laid face down.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos said in triumph. You braced for the second Snap, but nothing happened. You noticed a faint glow from your dad’s suit so you started running again.

“Interface available in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Interface active.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced to you.

Tony knelt in front of the Titan, Stones in hand. He shoved them into his suit, a Stone aligned with each knuckle. He thought about what he was going to do, the risk he was going to take. Someone had to do it, and it seemed only Tony could. But his mind brought back words that weighed on his heart..

Years ago, Steve had told him “The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

Peter said “I just wanted to be like you.”

Y/N had argued “I don’t know how to live a life without you and I don’t want to. I shouldn’t have to!”

Morgan had told him with a smile “I love you, 3000.”

Pepper once told him “You’re all I have too, you know.”

Y/N would always say “I love you, forever.”

But the heaviest one was what Strange had told him just minutes before, “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

“And I…” Your dad panted. You could see the power of the Stones coursing up his suit, scorched marks climbing to his neck. You got to him quickly, standing beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the energy diverting up into your body as the nanites mixed.

It was white hot, burning every cell in your body. It was intense, scorching every nerve it touched. Your fingers trembled, your pulse beat unevenly. Your stomach muscle clenched, your knees shook. But despite it all, you stood tall. You gathered yourself with a deep breath and spoke.

“We.” You emphasized.

“We-” Your dad nodded slightly.

“-are Starks.” You two said together before he snapped his fingers. The surge brought you to your knees beside your dad, who used his other hand to reach across himself and steady you. You made sure to keep your left hand where it was, refusing to move it until you could get the Stones out. You two watched as every soldier Thanos brought, his whole army, turned to dust the way you did five years ago. Thanos sat on a nearby rock as he turned to dust himself.

You and your dad manage to get to a nearby debris pile where you turned and leaned your backs against. Your dad coughed as you reached over and pulled the Stones from his suit and dropped them next to you. You saw the relief in his posture once you took the Stones away.

“One hell of a day back.” You tried to joke, to which you both laughed weakly.

“You shouldn't have done that, Y/N/N.” Tony said weakly.

“There was only one way, remember?” You countered. “I had to. We started this together, we end it together.”

“Love you, kiddo.” Your dad smiled at you.

“Forever.”

“And ever.”

“Y/N?” Peter said gently. “Mr. Stark?” Peter ran up to you both, falling to his knees between you two. He gently took one of your hands in his. “Hey. Can you guys hear me? It’s Peter. We won. Y/N, Mr. Stark, we won. You did it. You guys did it.”

“You-” You coughed, smiling weakly at him. “You still owe me… a date, Petey.”

“Anywhere you want, Y/N/N.” He laughed sadly. He leaned forward and hugged both of you. “You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Maybe not this time.”

Gently, Peter was guided away from you two, tears slowly falling down his face and leaving streaks in the dirt that covered his cheeks. You smiled softly, knowing you really did love the boy. You wanted to get up and comfort him, wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. But you didn’t have it in you. You could barely manage to keep your eyes open.

Your mom knelt in front of you two where Peter was. She sighed gently, trying to put on a brave face, but she was hurt the most. Your heart sank when you saw the pain she was in. She was looking at two of the three people that meant the world to her, sitting before her and fighting for their lives. She had watched her family sacrifice themselves for the world, a sacrifice those two - especially those two - never should’ve had to make.

“Hey.” She said softly. “You’ve both looked better.”

“Hey, mom.” You said as your dad answered, “Hey, Pep.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” She said, hoping for good news.

“Intense emergency surgeries needed. Immediate treatment raises survival rate by about 60%.” Her automated voice answered.

“Brother.” Shuri whispered to T’Challa as Pepper gently comforted her family. “I think I can heal them in my lab. They don’t have to die.”

“How would we get them there?” T’Challa asked honestly. He wanted to help them, but he didn’t think it’d be possible. “It is too far to guarantee there’d be time.”

“We can’t leave them to die here.” Rhodey commented. “We gotta at least take them home.”

“It’s okay.” Pepper nodded to you two. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? You two can rest now.”

“Love you, Mom.” You whispered. “Tell Peter… Tell him I love him too.”

You smiled softly at your mother before leaning your head back against the debris. Your eyes drifted shut, your body feeling heavy. You gave into the darkness as your dad did the same. The reactors in both of your suits faded to a dull glow, not quite off yet.

“The reactors aren’t off.” Peter noted, his voice strained from his pain. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. He had become so close to Y/N Stark to the point where he thought he loved her. She meant so much to him in the short time he knew her, so much so that he convinced himself she was his soulmate. He didn’t even believe in that kind of thing until he met her. Now he really wished he hadn’t hesitated. “They’re not gone.”

“Peter-” Steve tried to console him. Steve was feeling the loss too. He was devastated. Y/N and Tony were both practically family to him, the only family he had left. And now they were gone. They gave up their lives to save the world. Steve felt a pang of guilt, that even though they got everyone back, they still lost. Steve had insisted on it, that they would win this time around, but they still managed to lose.

“I can hear it!” He yelled, his voice breaking. “Their hearts are still beating.” He looked back to Y/N and Tony, their eyes shut. “They’re not gone. Just look!” He threw both hands forward, gesturing to the center glow of their chests.

“So what do we do then?” Thor asked. “The Compound is ruined. How are we supposed to help them?”

“Take them home.” Carol suggested. “You, Sparkles.” Carol pointed to Dr. Strange. “You can make portals. Make a portal to take them home, and then we go from there.”

“What do you actually think we can do for them?” Strange questioned defensively. “Those Stones-”

“I think that Peter Parker is onto something.” Carol countered easily. “Make a portal to take them home.”

“They won’t survive.”

“If you’re so sure, at least let them die somewhere they’d be comfortable.” She rolled her eyes.

“We have the technology to heal them.” T’Challa spoke up. He figured it was the least he could do, to offer whatever Wakanda could give to help. “If you can get them home and keep them stable, Shuri and I can get what we need and bring it to you. But we’d have to hurry.”

“And you’re sure they’re alive?” Strange asked Peter.

“One hundred percent.” He responded confidently, his eyes on Y/N. “I know it.”

Strange opened two portals, one to Wakanda and one to the Stark’s lakehouse. Carefully, Rhodey scooped up Tony and Peter carried Y/N. Pepper went through first, hurrying to get Morgan out of the house so she wouldn’t see what her dad and sister looked like. Tony and Y/N were carried to their rooms and gently set up in their beds.

Wong helped the rest of those who fought get home. Steve, Bruce, Clint, and Thor followed the Stark family to their home, as did Carol. Dr. Strange went with T’Challa so he and Shuri would have a quick way back to Tony and Y/N. Pepper asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to disable the suits so their housing units could be taken off and to keep their vitals posted. Both of their pulses were extremely weak, but they were still there. They were both put on ventilators - Tony kept a few on hand just in case the Compound wasn’t the best option for treatment - and were given an injection of painkillers.

Peter had been right.

Pepper stayed with Tony in their room, while Peter argued to stay with Y/N. Steve had offered, told Peter he should get home and get some rest, but Peter set himself up in the window nook and refused to get up.He had washed the dirt and blood off his face and out of his hair, his wet curls still dripping onto his shirt slightly. Despite using cold water to wake himself up, he still just wanted to curl up and sleep.

He called May after Steve left the room and went downstairs to talk to others. He had taken off his suit, leaving him in the clothes he had worn to the field trip, before he had gotten on the spaceship.

“Hey, May.” Peter said tiredly. He was exhausted, every muscle ached. He wanted to lay in his own bed and sleep for a year, but he knew what his priority was at the moment. “You okay?”

“Where are you, Peter?” She asked anxiously. “I- I called you twelve times and you didn’t answer. Are you okay? You- you never came home from your MOMA field trip and I-”

“I’m fine.” Peter cut in. “I- I got caught up in that dusty thing a few years ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I did too.” She paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “Come home, Peter.”

“I can’t.” He said sadly. “Y/N, she got hurt real bad, May… I can’t leave her right now.”

“You love her, don’t you?” May asked, a small smile on her lips that Peter didn’t need to see to know it was there.

“Yeah.. I think I do.” Peter chuckled nervously. “I never got a chance to tell her.”

“You’ll get one… Don’t miss it.”

“Love you, May.”

“Love you too, Peter. Text me before you go to sleep and call me in the morning.”

“Will do.” And with that, Peter hung up the phone.

A small knock on the door sounded before it was cracked open enough for a small child to slip inside. She shut the door carefully behind her, as if she was used to sneaking around the house. She ran across the room until she stood in front of Peter, looking at him with her head tilted slightly. Slowly, unsure of what to do, Peter pulled his legs to his chest to make room for her. She climbed into the open space and crossed her legs, dropping her hands in her lap.

“Morgan, right?” Peter asked, leaning his head back as he tried to stay awake.

“Who are you?” She asked plainly.

“Peter Parker.” He gave a lazy salute.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

Peter chuckled. “No.. Not yet, at least.”

“You like her?”

“I do.” He nodded with a lazy smile. “I like her a lot.”

“She’s pretty.” Morgan said, as if Peter hadn’t noticed that. “Is she hurt the way Daddy is?”

“How do you know that?”

“I was sneaky.” She whispered, bringing one finger to her lips to emphasize how quiet she was. Peter chuckled in response.

“Yeah, Y/N is hurt.” Peter said carefully. “But she’s gonna be okay. You know why?”

“Cause she’s like Daddy.” She said confidently. “And Daddy is Iron Man.”

“Yeah, but also because she has to come back to her family. You and your mom and-”

“And you.” Morgan cut in. “Want to make a card with me?”

“You go get started and I’ll meet you down there.” Peter responded, holding out his pinky. “I just need a minute and I’ll go downstairs after. Pinky promise.”

“Okay.” She nodded, quickly finishing the pinky promise. “Bye, Peter!” She said before quickly sneaking out of the room, leaving just Y/N and Peter.

“When we met, I never thought we’d end up here..” Peter said to Y/N, even though he knew she probably couldn’t hear him. “After everything we’ve been through, it kinda seemed like you were invincible. Nothing could really take you out like this. I mean, yeah, we both came out of everything with some sort of aches and pains, but not like this.

“I know you’re fighting for your life, Y/N/N. And I know you have your own reasons to fight, but I gotta ask you to fight for me. Please… I just- I love you, Y/N Stark. And I want to be able to tell you when you can actually acknowledge it. I- I want to take you to parties and school dances. I want you to come to Decathlon a-and laugh at how easy the questions are because you’re brilliant.” He chuckled lightly before closing his eyes, curling in on himself a little more. “Just come back for me, please.”

A light knock sounded before Shuri entered, a cart of equipment being led in behind her. Two Wakandan soldiers followed behind with her equipment, setting things up while Shuri went and spoke to Peter. Peter sat up slowly, unsure of how long he had been asleep.

“We can take it from here.” She told Peter, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should get something to eat, Peter. You look starved.”

“Yeah..” He nodded slightly. “But I have a card to make first.” He smiled lazily before taking one last look at Y/N. “She’s gonna make it, right?”

“I’m going to do everything I can.”

“Oh, she kinda got stabbed like right here-” Peter’s hand hovered over Y/N’s side, where he remembered Thanos using her suit’s blade against her. “That was before we got dusted so I don’t know if it’s still there but…” He shrugged, pausing to decide if he wanted to ask his next question. “How’s Mr. Stark doing?” Peter asked carefully, now fully knowing if he was ready to hear how his mentor was. “Is he gonna..”

“Mr. Stark is going to be okay.” Shuri promised. “We could not save his arm, but we saved him. The only thing I don’t know is how soon he’ll wake up. His injuries were rather traumatic and that kind of shock takes a toll on the human body.”

“Thank you.” Peter said honestly. “For being on my side back there and believing they could be helped. And for being willing to help them.”

“The world owes them a debt that can never be repaid.” Shuri said honestly, scanning Y/N with her Kimoyo Beads. “It is the least I could do.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Peter nodded before heading downstairs to join Morgan in her card making.

Steve handed Peter a plate of food and two water bottles, reminding Peter that he had to take care of himself too. Most of the adults stayed in the other room, discussing their worry in quiet whispers. Carol sat with Peter and Morgan around the coffee table, each of them making a card. Morgan was finishing her card for Tony, while Peter worked on one for Y/N and Carol made one that was meant for both of them. Carol and Peter took turns telling jokes or making fun of their own drawings to make Morgan laugh. By the time they were done, they each made a card for Y/N and Tony, until Morgan fell asleep against Peter.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” Carol asked Peter once Morgan was asleep.

“Y/N and Mr. Stark believed in me when no one else did.” Peter began fondly. “When I went with them to Germany to fight Captain America, she told me that I was going to have to put up with her for a long time. She told me that she wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen to me, that we had to stick together. But now... It’s different. When she smiles at me, I feel dizzy. When she laughs, I can’t help but laugh with her. Even when she looks at me, I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I can explain it.” She smirked at him. “That’s love, kid.”

“It is?” Peter asked. “That’s kinda what I had hoped it all meant.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

“I had a chance… But I hesitated.” He admitted, remembering on Titan when he wanted to kiss her. “But if I had known this would’ve happened-”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know.” She cut him off. “What matters now is if you’re gonna hesitate next time?” She challenged.

“God, I hope not.” Peter chuckled.

Soon, Shuri and her brother, along with the two Wakandans that came with her, were coming down the stairs. Most of the equipment was packed and being carried with her. Peter was careful not to move and wake Morgan when Shuri came downstairs.

“They’re both going to make it.” She said with a proud smile. “However, there are some things we could not fix.”

“Like what?” Steve asked tensely.

“We could not save Mr. Stark’s right arm. The damage was too severe.” Shuri explained. “They’ll both have burn scars up into their chest and neck area. Mr. Stark’s may even reach the side of his face. As for Y/N..” She paused to show a detailed image of the inner workings of the lower arm, the nervous system breakdown and muscular system. “This is what her right arm looks like, the one that didn’t take on the energy of the Stones. And this-” She swiped to a new image, an image where some of the nerves were in pieces. “-is her left arm. Unfortunately, her damage seemed to have found its way to her nervous system. Some nerves were seared through, meaning she has lost all sensation in her left arm, as well as some of her finer motor control.”

“So what exactly does that mean for her?” Pepper asked anxiously.

“It means she will not be able to fully move her fingers and possibly her wrist, and she won’t physically feel anything at any point on her left arm. But she will live.” Shuri explained. “I’ve also healed a stab wound she had from her first fight with Thanos, and there won’t even be a scar.. They should wake in a few days. They are both on IV drips with painkillers. I’ve done all I can.”

And with that, Shuri left. One by one, the rest of the Avengers that were there left. Peter left the following morning, having fallen asleep on the floor with Morgan. Happy drove him home, but Peter fell asleep again on the way. His body was more exhausted than he had been letting on, and now it had caught up to him.

He tried to get back to normal life. He went back to school, saw Ned and MJ. He went back to Decathlon, but it just didn’t feel right to him until he could hear your voice again. A few days after he was settling back in, he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Spiderman.” You said. Your voice was as sweet as honey, making his heart beat three times faster. “Got time for a visit?”

“For you?” Peter replied, pretending he had to think about it. “Definitely. Where at?”

“Right here.” You said, stepping out of the car to stand in front of him. “Hey, Peter.”

“Hi.” He breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing you standing before him, your long-sleeved shirt buttoned up to the top to hide the burns, it made his chest feel tight. He wanted to hug you, to pull you against his chest and never let you go. But he hesitated, just slightly. His biggest concern was how fragile you were.

“You’re looking at me like you’re scared.” You commented, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am!” He promised quickly. “I am happy to see you. I just… I have something I want to tell you.”

“I have something I need to tell you too… But it can wait till that date you owe me.” You winked.

“No, it can’t wait.” Peter said, swallowing hard and gathering all his courage. “I wanted to tell you this back on Titan, but I chickened out.”

“Peter, it’s not that serious.” You laughed nervously. “It can wait until tonight, okay?”

“No. It can’t.” He insisted, grabbing your hand. “Y/N, I- I love you and I really want to be with you.”

“That’s great.” You smiled widely, squeezing his hand gently.

“What?”

“Peter, I realized something before this.” You gestured to your left arm. “When Carol came to help us, and I got a good look at how beat up you were but you were still willing to fight… When we were on the beach and you wanted to make sure Toomes didn’t die even though we were on opposite sides… When we were in Germany and you said you trusted me… There are so many little moments between now and the moment I met you that have brought me to this one, single, recurring idea.”

“And what idea is that?” Peter asked smugly, taking a step closer to you. Suddenly, his confidence was through the roof.

“That I love you, Peter Parker.” You smiled widely. “And I really want to be with you.”

“That’s… amazing.” He sighed happily. “Otherwise this could’ve been really awkward."

#beaconfalls whb #where happiness begins #peter parker #peter fanfic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x yn #peter x reader #Peter x Y/N #peter x stark!reader #peter x yn #mcu fanfic #mcu peter parker #MCU Spiderman #avengers fanfic #mcu fic

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captain-kingliamsqueen · 4 years

Text

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Liam x MC,

Summary: Bradshaw has a run in with Liam and Riley.

Word Count: 1,708

Masterlist

ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance!

Tags aren’t working so I will be tagging in the comments.

Riley stretched before flickering her eyes open to be greeted by the early morning sun that shone through the gaps in the blinds. She yawned as she threw the duvet back and climbed from the bed. Riley pulled her fuzzy robe on along with her slippers before making her way to living room where Liam was sitting with 3-month-old Delilah, feeding her, her bottle, whilst he ate his breakfast. Due to Liam's meetings usually starting earlier than Riley's, they had a routine, Liam would see to Delilah when he got up, he would feed and change her whilst eating his breakfast at the same time, by the time he was done Riley would be up and would take over whilst Liam went to shower and dress.

“Good Morning” Riley smirked as she leaned down to place a kiss on Delilah’s head then another on Liam's lips.

“Good Morning, my love, how did you sleep?”

“Really well actually, I missed my husband when I woke up though” she grinned

“one day my love, me might just get to wake up together” he chuckled as Delilah started babbling away, patting her little hand against his cheek

“we can only dream” Riley chuckled “why don’t I take little miss here and you can eat your breakfast” Riley reached her hands out, taking her daughter into her hold.

“Hello, my beautiful little one!” she grinned as Delilah giggled away.

“would you like a cup of tea?” Riley asked Liam as she headed for the kitchenette

“now that would be magnificent!”

Just a short while later, Liam was just getting out of the shower, whilst Riley was finishing her breakfast whilst Delilah napped in her room. Once Riley had finished eating, she headed for the bedroom where Liam stood with just his trousers.

“is she sleeping?” Liam asked as he made his way over to his wife.

“yeah, she’s been down for about fifteen minutes”

“hmmm good, then I can have a few minutes with my wife” Liam smirked as he wrapped his arms around Riley, as she done the same to him. As Riley look up at him and smiled and she moved to her tiptoes, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you” he whispered

“I love you too” Riley replied in the same tone.

“Liam, do you really think Amalas will pull through for us in time for the betrothal ball?” Riley asked, worried that they would not manage to get Delilah out of the betrothal.

“I’m not sure, sweetie, all we can do is hope, my love” Liam sighed as he held her tight. “I promise…I will do everything I can to get her out this, I put her in this position, I’ll get her out of it”

“hey…” Riley whispered as she placed her hand gently on Liam's cheek. “do not blame yourself for this, we have been through this Liam, you done what you had to do, this is not your fault! They put you in a position where you had to make that decision, and you chose to save mine and Delilah’s lives, they put her in this position Liam, not you!”

“I can’t help but feel responsible”

“then I will spend the rest of my life persuading you otherwise” she smirked

When five pm hit, the family started to get ready for the ball, Riley dressed in an elegant red lace gown, whilst Liam wore a black tux with red accents. Delilah was dressed in red tutu dress, with detailing on the top that resembled her mothers. Before they knew it, it was time to head down to the ballroom. Liam held Delilah as they headed down the grand staircase, Rileys nerves could be seen from miles away, she was fiddling with her dress, she was messing with her hands, frown evident on her face. Liam placed his free hand comfortably on her lower back as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey…take a deep breathe, everything is going to be fine, I promise, I will make sure of it! no matter what, we leave here tonight, no longer caught up in all of this, I give you my word”

“I just…I”

“I know…it’s alright to be scared sweetheart, I am too, but we can’t let it get the better of us, we will get out of this”

Once the couple reached the large double doors leading to the ballroom, they stopped walked, Riley fixed the bottom of Delilah’s dress that had gotten a little bunched up, then gently used her thumb to wipe the drool that was slowly gathering on the little ones chin. Once the three of them were ready, they were announced into the room. As soon as she entered the room, the two slyly looked around the room hoping to see Amalas among the faces, but neither came across her.

They spent the evening on edge, hoping that she would appear.

It was a few hours into the ball, everyone had finished their meals and were either mingling around the ballroom or dancing.

Liam was currently doing some rounds, talking to the nobles, whilst Hana, Maxwell and Riley (with Delilah in her arms) discussed the proposal that Hana had been working on for the local primary school, that she would be presenting to the council in the next few days

Riley laughed as she watched her daughter babbling away as Maxwell pulled faces at her. It was just moments later that they were approached by Bradshaw.

“Queen Kayliegh, I don’t think I’ve had the chance to say how stunning you look this evening.” He smirked creepily as he placed his hand on Riley's upper arm, she could smell the booze on his breath.

“please remove your hand from my arm”

“now why would I want to do that!”

“BECAUSE IM TELLING YOU TO! YOU NEED NO OTHER REASON!”

She shrugged his hand off her with a sigh, “don’t you dare touch me again!” she stated as she passed Delilah to Hana. “Hana could you please take Delilah outside for some air”

“of course!”

“Thank you!”

“ha! You think you can talk to me like that? I am a king!” Bradshaw huffed

“and I am a queen! I do not care what your status is! You WILL NOT! Put your hands on me again!”

“HA! A queen? You wish you were a real Queen! You were handed your position as queen! You did not earn it! you are merely just an actress! you are here for one reason and one reason only and that is to please your husband! And soon…very soon, you’ll be pleasing me in the same way! when we take Cordonia for our own and ive stripped Liam of his crown…I’ll be taking you as my property as well!”

“I think you’ll find I earned my title!” Riley squared up to him, causing him to take a step back as she moved closer “YOU WILL NOT COME INTO MY HOME AND SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT! DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU MAY THINK YOU CAN SPEAK TO ALL THE OTHER WOMAN IN HERE LIKE DIRT BUT YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? YOU ARE A DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING, HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU CAN SPEAK TO PEOPLE LIKE THAT! I AM NO ONES PROPERTY! ESPECIALLY YOURS!” the whole court went silent as soon as Riley raised her voice, since the day she stepped foot in the palace she had never once raised her voice the way she did.

“YOU EARNED IT? BY DOING WHAT…OPENING YOUR LEGS FOR THE KING? I WILL SPEAK TO YOU WHATEVER WAY I PLEASE AND THERES NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT! JUST WAIT! I WILL HAVE CORDONIA… I WILL HAVE YOUR CROWNS…I WILL HAVE YOU! YOU’RE FAMILY WILL BELONG TO ME! YOUR WOOS OF A HUSBAND! THE WANNA BE ACTRESS THE QUEEN…AND THEIR PERFECT LITTLE ANGEL!” As soon as he mentioned their daughter Riley's fist swung at his jaw

“YOU WILL NEVER HAVE MY DAUGTHER! I WILL MAKE SURE OF THAT!”

Riley watched as she seen Liam approaching, he stopped dead in his tracks, directly behind Bradshaw. The anger could be seen throughout his face with the snap of a finger, Liam had pinned him to the closest wall by the throat.

“SPEAK TO MY WIFE IN SUCH A MANNOR AGAIN, I DARE YOU!!”

“HOW DARE YOU TREAT A KING THIS WAY!”

“YOU ARE IN MY PALACE! IN MY KINGDOM! MY LAND! I AM KING OF CORDONIA AND MY WIFE, IS QUEEN, SHE EARNED HER CROWN AND HER THRONE!! SHE IS CORDONIAS QUEEN AND YOU WILL TREAT HER AS SUCH! YOU WILL NOT COME INTO MY KINGDOM, SPEAK TO OUR QUEEN AS THOUGH SHE IS DIRT! THEN DEMAND TO BE TREATED WITH RESPECT!! YOU WILL APPOLOGISE!”

“I WILL NO-”

“Liam…just leave it…it’s alright” rile could see Liam relax a little at just the touch of her hand.

“Ha-ha! Well we all know who wears the pants in your marriage!” Bradshaw laughed

Liam took a deep breath as he clenched his hand into a fist before Swinging his arm, connecting his knuckles with Bradshaw’s jaw. Riley could swear she heard a crack.

“YOU WILL FUCKING APPOLOGISE THEN YOU WILL GET YOUR SHIT! AND YOU WILL GET OUT OF CORDONIA! AND YOU ARE NEVER TO COME BACK! DO YOU HEAR ME!?!? YOU ARE NO LONGER WELCOME IN MY KINGDOM! YOU WILL NEVER RULE OVER CORDONIA! YOU WILL NEVER HAVE MY CROWN…MY WIFE OR MY DAUGHTER! THE BETROTHAL IS OFF” Liam practically flung Bradshaw to the floor.

“Bastian! You are to escort Bradshaw and his family to the airport! You are to ensure they get on the plane and that the plane takes off!” Liam demanded as he walked past Bradshaw, midst trying to get back to his feet.

“KING LIAM! I WILL BRING WAR TO CORDONIA!” he called as he got to his feet. Liam took a deep breathe before turning to face him but before he could say anything…

“I THINK YOU’LL FIND BRADSHAW…YOU AREN’T IN A POSITION TO DO THAT!” everyone turned to see Queen Amalas stood at the large double doors, with a manila folder in her hand and a smirk upon her face.

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we-are-only-halfway-home93 · 4 years

Text

Come and Lay the Roses 22- Before I Lose Faith- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Ivar has a conversation with Ives. Aaline expresses her displeasure.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Lagertha, Ragnar

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 21

Word Count: 2324

AN: Wow. To say a lot has happened since I last posted is a gross understatement. I hope everyone is staying safe out there and I hope my story can bring you a little bit of joy during these difficult days. Stay safe, everyone. Thanks for reading.

“No one ever fell in love gracefully.”

~Connie Brockway

Ivar looked up when a knock sounded on his office door. His secretary, Idunn, poked her head in. “Mr. Lothbrok, Ives Jensen is here.” Ivar’s smile was downright sharklike and he pushed back from his desk.

“Thank you, Idunn. Please hold all of my calls until I return. I should be back in an hour, 90 minutes at most.” She nodded at him, standing back as he passed her. Ives was sitting next to Idunn’s desk, his leg bouncing. Ivar could see the sweat beading his brow and his eyes shifted from side to side. Good. Ivar wanted him on edge.

“Ives! How wonderful to see you! Thank you for agreeing to meet me for lunch on such short notice.” Ivar extended his hand to his father-in-law and gripped tight, reveling in the wince that crossed Ives’ face. He swept his free hand out in front of him and let Ives lead them to the elevator.

Once inside, Ivar pressed the button to take them down to the lobby. A town car was waiting for them at the front entrance. Ivar waved Ives forward and the man hesitated for only a second before he got into the car. As soon as Ivar was inside, the car began to move.

Ivar wasn’t taking him far. He didn’t even really plan on Ives staying long. His motive was simple.

“Did you enjoy the party?” Ivar adjusts his shirt sleeves, tugging them down past his blazer. He looked up. Ives was still sweating, his hands clasped tight in his lap. He kept glancing from Ivar to the window and back. Ivar smiled, baring his teeth.

“Ives,” The man looked at Ivar, his eyes staring somewhere between his forehead and his chin. “Did you enjoy the party last weekend?” Ivar asked again.

Ives cleared his throat and wiped his palms down the tops of his thighs. “It was very...eventful.” Ives said, avoiding Ivar’s gaze. Ivar hummed and looked out the window, watching the cityscape pass by.

“I saw you had to be escorted out.” He turned his icy gaze towards Ives. The man had gone pale, the circles around his eyes standing stark against his face. He shifted against the leather beneath him, his sweaty palms squeaking against the seat.

“Was that what you meant by...eventful?” Ivar said. He kept his tone light on purpose. He wanted to keep Ives on edge. He wanted the man to sweat.

This man had caused harm to his wife, a woman he had recently admitted he loved.

Ivar was a possessive man. Things, people that he cared about were important to him. If they were hurt or damaged in any capacity, Ivar saw fit to take action. He’d broken bones, bought properties, demolished houses, even killed for lesser crimes than what Ives had done to Aaline. He felt it was his husbandly duty to remind Ives of what he was capable of.

“My wife hasn’t divulged to me the details of your conversation last weekend but I do know this.” Ivar readjusted in his seat, leaning forward. He lowered his voice and stared at Ives with an impenetrable gaze.

“I know that she has sworn never to speak to you again. I know that is a difficult promise to keep but she’s done a reasonable job at accomplishing that goal.” Ivar took a deep breath and sighed, twisting the band on his left hand around his fingers.

“I know that my wife refused to have you walk her down the aisle. I know that she wouldn’t dance with you at our wedding. I know that you have been invited to social gatherings as a courtesy, strictly because you are on the board of Jensen Construction. If I made up the guest list, you would forever be removed from attending such functions.

“My wife has told me what you’ve done.” He looked up at the trembling man before him. Ives had tears in his eyes. Excellent.

“The pain and suffering you have caused her. Now, the only reason you are not dead is because of the deal you made with my father. Our marriage in exchange for your life and your company. A reasonable trade, in Ragnar’s eyes. But not in mine.”

Ivar studied Ives for several seconds. The man was vibrating against the seat, his body ready to hurl itself out of the moving vehicle at a moment's notice. Ivar suspected the only thing keeping him contained was the very real threat in Ivar’s eyes. The man would stay seated until Ivar had expressed himself.

“If it were up to me, you would die slowly and painfully so that you may know just an ounce of the pain my wife has felt because of you. Your body would never be found and no one, absolutely no one, would miss you.”

Ivar sat back and cleared his throat, rubbing his hand over his mouth, collecting himself. Ives was crying now, tears streaming down his face freely. Ivar rolled his eyes and pressed a button on the console next to him. The car came to stop. He looked at Ives.

“My driver has been instructed to take you home. And you will be returned home.” Ivar could see the man relax just enough to no longer appear pale. He couldn’t have that.

“But know this, Ives Jensen.” The man looked up and met Ivar’s eyes with an astounding amount of courage. “If you ever speak to my wife again, if you even think about speaking to her, looking at her, visiting her, I will find you, I will hurt you, and I will kill you.”

Ives looked like he was going to vomit so Ivar jerked his head once and the man leaped from the car and onto the sidewalk. As soon as the door was closed, Ivar felt the car move beneath him and he pressed the button to roll down the partition. “Cafe Italia, please. I’m craving something red.”

She had been at lunch, enjoying a nice outing with Torvi and Lagertha when her phone started to ring. It was her father so she sent him to voicemail. On her way back into the office, she listened to it and was surprised to find a long, detailed message about how Ivar had threatened his life if he so much as looked at her again.

She wasn’t sure how to feel, at first. Astonishment at her father’s bravery, for one. Not many people were threatened by Ivar and then blatantly disregarded his threats. It was a surprising amount of bravery from Ives.

Then she felt a steady heat that began to simmer in her belly. It started in her stomach and steadily moved down between her legs. She felt her face and chest flush and ringing began in her ears. It wasn’t until she felt a dampness between her legs that she realized she was aroused.

Ivar had defended her. He had threatened her own father with bodily harm if he tried to see her. For a man to go to such lengths, he had to possess some kind of feelings for her. She had to take a steadying breath to control her heartbeat.

Rage was the next thing she felt. How dare he! Did he think she was incapable of taking care of herself? He watched her train. Even trained her himself. He saw her physically subdue Ives at the party last weekend and he had the nerve to threaten her father? After everything he knew?

She hardly remembered asking her driver to turn around and head to Ivar’s office. She didn’t even remember getting there. The next thing she knew, she was stalking up to Idunn’s desk. Idunn stood up at her sudden approach. “Is he in there?” She spat. She didn’t wait for Idunn to reply before she shoved the doors open. “Did you threaten my father?” She pointed an accusing finger at him, ignoring the stunned faces of the two men seated in front of him.

Ivar was in the middle of a business meeting when his wife slammed through his office and started shouting at him. Her long hair flowed behind her like a cape and her eyes were ablaze with anger. Her face was flushed in her ire and he could see the snarl forming on her lips.

She had never looked more beautiful than she did right at that moment. He could feel his own anger rising to the surface and he stood carefully from his chair. “Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. If you wouldn’t mind stepping outside for a moment.” Ivar ushered the two men around his seething wife and locked the door behind them. He turned back towards Aaline, his mouth drawn down in a thin line and glared at her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’m conducting an important business meeting with high-value clients and you just storm in here demanding things. Who do you think you are?” He stalked towards her and invaded her space. They were nose to nose and Ivar could feel the anger seeping out of her. If she were a cartoon character there’d be steam coming out of her ears.

She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed. “I’m your wife, Ivar. Did you, or did you not, threaten my father with bodily harm if he tried to contact me again?” Ivar glared down at her just as fiercely. He sneered and moved around her body, leaning against the edge of his desk before he answered her.

“I did. As you stated, you’re my wife, anything that displeases you displeases me. I didn’t like the way he touched you the other day and I felt that he needed to know it. Besides, you’re not on speaking terms with him anyway so I don’t see how it matters what I did or didn’t say to him.”

Aaline marched towards him. “He’s still my father, Ivar. It doesn’t matter if I’m speaking to him or not. I’m the only one who gets to threaten him.” Ivar snorted and rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. Aaline eyed the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his jacket. “I mean it, Ivar. Don’t speak to him again.”

Ivar straightened and stared her down, the fire in her eyes igniting something deep in his gut. He felt the blood rush from his head down to his groin and he nearly moaned at the heat reflected in her eyes.

“I don’t remember asking you who I can and can’t speak to. I can threaten him as many times as I want. I could even kill him if I wanted to.” Her hand snapped out faster than he could catch it. His head swung sharply to the side and he could feel the sting up through his temple.

He jerked back around to stare at her and opened his mouth to retort when she was on him. Her lips smashed against his and he tasted blood. Whether it was his or hers, he wasn’t sure, but the taste lit something inside him and he moaned.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself fully against him, aligning her body with his. She could feel him hard against her and she whimpered. Ivar knotted one hand in her hair, gathering it in his fist and pulled. She gasped and arched back over his arm. He moaned against her lips, driving his tongue against hers and memorizing her taste. She dragged her leg up the outside of his and rested her knee on the edge of his desk.

Ivar groaned and released her hair, bunching her skirt up in his fingers and exposing her core. She pushed against him, knocking him back against his desk. There was a clatter as something spilled out over the desktop.

Ivar licked deeper into her mouth, exploring her. He felt drunk, his movements were stilted and slow like he was moving through molasses. Her skirt was pushed up to her waist and he trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh. He groaned when he felt the heat of her. She was already soaked through her panties.

Aaline shivered as Ivar traced his fingers up her leg, dancing over the sensitive flesh. She gasped when his fingers met her core. She rocked forward, pushing his fingers harder against her and Ivar moaned. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and felt him shiver. She smiled against his lips and felt his answering grin.

She brought her hands down to his shoulders and pulled on the labels of his jacket. Ivar dipped his fingers past the line of her panties and groaned at the wetness he felt. He stroked his fingers over the slick dripping from her. She clung tightly to his shoulders, whining low against his lips.

She jerked away from him at once and rubbed the back of her hand against her lips. Ivar glared at her, infuriated, when he heard a knock on his door. He rolled his eyes.

He stalked forward and yanked it open, the hinges squealing dangerously. Idunn jumped when he snarled at her. “What?” She pointed shakily towards the two men standing behind her.

“They said they have another meeting at 3:30 and it’s 2:30 now. They said there’s still a lot to discuss and they’d like to be on their way.” Ivar turned when he felt Aaline press gentle hands to his back. He shifted and watched her squeeze around him and the door.

She turned back to him and stood on her toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before disappearing back the way she’d come. He stared after her before turning his eyes back to his clients. He huffed and pushed the door open, letting them pass.

He’d never been so sexually frustrated in his life.

@dreamlesswonder @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @khiraeth @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @londongal2810 @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

Rock/Queentober 2020, Oct. 16th: Ashes

Assigned band member for this day: Brian

Synopsis: Brian/ Trans M Reader. Set just before the beginning of the 1976 A Night At The Opera USA tour. Your father has recently passed, and it’s a hell of a time, as to be expected. But Brian is there to help you through it, at least.

TW for death of a parent, though it isn’t described in detail. Also casual transphobia, and descriptions of reader having a shitty relationship with their father.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Thank you for coming with,” you say softly.

The lights in the crematorium buzz, and you and Brian shift uncomfortably under their too-bright, clinical glow.

But then, since your father had first taken ill, it had been uncomfortable. Awkward.

He approved of Brian, in a general sense. But he had never liked Brian as a person.

For that matter, your father hadn’t liked you much either. He loved you as parental obligation, but it was not a true love, and he didn’t show it often. When he did, it came in the form of trying to buy your love, offering you expensive things you didn’t want or to pay your rent for a month or two out of nowhere. But always with the catch that you would then do whatever he asked of you, after the money was given.

You had never taken it. You had a job, and your own paycheck, and love to be found elsewhere with other people. So you had let your father keep all his money, and all the love that supposedly would have come with it on the condition of your obedience.

The last day you’d visited him in hospice, he’d made all of that very clear, in a long, meandering, often hurtful lecture.

“As a daughter...you were disappointing, but fine enough, for a girl,” he had coughed. “But as a son...”

He had rolled his eyes, and asked the nurse checking his IV what she thought it would take for you to get the hint and finally leave him to die in peace.

That was when you had left. No good-bye, even as the nurse had called after you, letting you know he wasn’t likely to last the night.

You hadn’t cared then, and you didn’t care now as the crematorium employee handed over the medium-sized white box that held the urn which contained your father’s ashes.

If he had cared at all, after you left, there was no way to know. And what did it matter? Out of all his children, you were the only one to show up when he first got sick. You brought him to England on your dime so he could receive care and not drown his family (wife and family number four) in medical debt. You offered to fly out your half-siblings, all of them, from wives 2-4, even offering your mum the chance to fly out if she desired, even if only to slap him once soundly.

None of them had taken you up on it. Most of them hadn’t even replied, by phone or letter. But you had made up excuses for them all, when he got sad, asking where they were.

You had done all that, and he hadn’t cared one whit. You weren’t the way he wanted you to be, so none of it had counted.

“He didn’t have any requests, or anything in his will about it?” Brian asks, gesturing to the box as you walk together back to his car.

You shake your head. “I wish he had. I don’t know what the fuck to do with them.”

“Rude of him,” Brian says as he helps you into the car, careful not to jostle the box. “Just one last fuck you, it seems like...”

“It really does,” you sigh, opening the box as you wait for Brian to get into the driver’s seat. The urn is bronze, and a little ugly, if you’re honest. But your father had picked it out himself, and he always did get most of what he wanted, didn’t he? No matter the end result or consequences.

“Sorry,” Brian mutters as he slips into the seat, quickly starting the car and getting it pulled out into the mid-day London traffic. “Shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

“If he didn’t want anyone speaking ill of him when he was dead, then he shouldn’t have been a fucking shithead in life,” you found yourself sobbing suddenly, the tears an unexpected and unwelcome surprise as they fell.

“It’s okay,” Brian says gently.

“It isn’t!” you protest, wiping harshly at the tears. “I want to throw this damned thing out the window!”

Brian pulls into the nearest open spot on the side of the street. “Y/N-”

“I hate this,” you whimper. “I said years ago: no more tears over him, or because of him. Not even one more! And yet here I am...”

Brian undoes his seatbelt and leans close to hug you. “You can’t be upset with yourself for this. Anyone would cry; he may have been terrible and your relationship with him might have been shit, but-”

You could see him choosing his words carefully.

“You still knew him. For better or worse, he was in your life, and that means something. Not all good, not all bad, but a mix. And that means having a reaction to this moment, to him being gone.”

“I don’t want him in our house,” you say as you close the box’s lid.

“Okay,” Brian nods. “Is there anywhere in particular you want to put him? I mean, his ashes, I should say.”

“No,” you sigh shakily. “I just want him away from us.”

Brian’s wearing the look that comes up whenever he’s being clever, but feels unsure about it. “I might have an idea. You still want to come out on a few tour dates with us, yeah?”

“If you guys will have me,” you reply. “And so long as I won’t be in the way.”

“Never,” Brian smiles, and kisses your forehead. “So then, if you aren’t sure of just one place for him, maybe you could bring him with, and...”

After a moment, it clicks. “That’s brilliant. What would I do without that brain of yours?”

“Be perfectly fine, because there are a great many days where you’re much more clever than I am,” Brian chuckles. “And more put together, too.”

“That’s debatable,” you manage a smile.

He shakes his head, then looks down. “Keys?”

“Still in the ignition, love.”

He blushes, utterly adorable, and nods. “Right. Where they would be, of course. Sorry; I swear I’m fit to drive.”

For now, the urn has to come into the house with you, though you let Brian put it up on a high shelf in the hall closet. It’s difficult to do, but Brian makes it so much easier.

And a few weeks later, as the tour begins, you lighten as the urn does.

Part of him in Boston. A bit left in New York. Some in Chicago. And finally, the rest of him in San Diego.

You bury the ashes deep in the dirt, under the watchful eye of the public park warden who has given you permission to spread the ashes there.

She leaves as soon as you’re done, leaving you and Brian alone, staring at the miniscule mound of disturbed dirt.

He wraps an arm around you. “Feeling better?”

You nod. “A little. At least he’s truly gone now. I wonder what he’d think of all this anyway, us doing this with his remains. If he’d find it neat, or hate it utterly.”

“That’s the beauty of this,” Brian says. “He’s gone. He can’t weigh you down with his thoughts or feelings or insults or complaints anymore. All that ugly shit he used to say to you is as dead as he is.”

“It is,” you sigh happily.

“And you’re here, and alive, and beautiful,” Brian continues. “What say we take that urn back to the hotel and leave it there, then have a walk round here before I have to get to the venue?”

You nod and follow him out of the park, but stop at the sight of an open dumpster near the park entrance.

He shakes his head as you toss the urn into it. “I thought you might, as soon as I saw it.”

“He wouldn’t care anyway,” you say, as you pull him back into the park. “And even if he did, who cares? He isn’t here to yell at me about it, and I wouldn’t care for what he had to say regardless.”

You know better than to kiss right there, the looks you’ll get. But Brian pulls you down a path with only one woman on it, and as soon as she passes, he kisses you deeply, but sweetly.

“My father had no idea of how good you are,” you can’t help but whisper as you continue down the path with him. “But I do. And I’m so glad I have you.”

“He had no idea how good you are either,” Brian replies. “No idea who he missed out on getting to know, to care for. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be someone who has gotten to do what he didn’t, albeit in a different way.”

For the rest of the quiet path, before you reach other people again, you take his hand.

You won’t say now, because who knows exactly what the future might be. But you know that when you go, you hope Brian will keep your ashes at home. On a mantel, or a side table. Somewhere near him, whenever he’s home.

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic #Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020 #brian may x reader

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seriefic · 5 years

Text

Chance (IV)

Summary: Your arrival to Kattegat had more surprises than you could have expected

A/N: English is not my first language and there will be a few more chapters, enjoy.

Tagging: @youbloodymadgenius

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

It was a gray day, the sky was full of clouds and the atmosphere invaded by a strong smell of rain, your favorite kind of day, it didn't take long to see the city with its port full of boats and busy people coming from one place to another. Finding your brothers wasn´t difficult, you found them at the entrance of the small town mounted on their horses, ready to go looking for you again.

-We thought you werw dead-Eritz shouted while running into you, you were glad to see him, you could say he was your favorite brother, always smiling and nice to everyone.

-I'm not dead but I'm exhausted-you said hugging each of your brothers who seemed to have taken a great weight off

-What happened to your hair? - Ales asked touching the tips of the hair on your shoulders.

-It was cut during a fight.

-We found your dead horse full of arrows, but there were also some things that were not yours.

You froze for a moment looking at Eritz, your older brother, he was next to you while Ales was ahead of you, leading the way and his voice sounded cold, he had always been like that, while Eritz always spoiled you Ales only tried to find the minimum mistake to expose it to the world and always talked and acted as if he knew everything you did, always.

-I met a wanderer who helped me.

-Can we meet the hero who has saved my sister?- Eritz asked jokingly and you laughed.

-I can save myself

-I don´t doubt it

-When are we going to continue our travel?-You were tired of spending your days riding, camping and moving from one place to another without knowing exactly where you were going.

-We´re already where we should be.

-What do you mean?

-You never listen

-Ales shut up, we never told her where we were going neither the name of her fiance

You gave your brother a smile that said "I won" and he turned and came back to the front, the rest of the short road was flooded by Eritz's anecdotes, who always made an effort to lessen the tension between you and your brother.

-I think you´ll like your husband, he is a handsome man and quite nice, his brothers too.

-I think our dear older brother should tell you who is his favorite.

Eritz showed a wide smile of satisfaction and greatness and you looked at him without understanding anything.

- Have you slept with any of the princes? - You asked opening your eyes like plates and shaking your head

-Maybe

-Whenever you do those things we have problems, keep your dick in your pants until you go back home.

-She´s right-rarely, Ales agreed with you- we always have problems because of your crotch.

Eritz ignored all your criticisms and just laughed at them and mocked you, you admired your brother for his ability to ignore what others thought of him and all his actions, although sometimes that had negative parts, like ignoring any advice.

You arrived to the center of Kattegat to the home of the king and the princes, your brothers guided you inside where you found an incredibly beautiful woman, you had never seen such a beauty and you assumed she had to be the queen.

-You must be the princess (YN) - She said taking your hand and talking to you directly -I am Queen Aslaug

You smiled and turned red, you felt ashamed to be in front of that woman with your shabby clothes.

-It´s a pleasure to meet you my queen, I am very sorry that my arrival has been delayed and I´m sorry for my appearance.

-Don't worry, right now the maids will take care of washing and changing you, then at diner, you will meet my sons and your fiancé.-she gestured with her hand and two young girls approached you and took you with them.

You quickly found yourself in a hot tub, with new clothes in front of you and two girls combing your hair, little images from the previous night sneaked into your mind, you couldn't believe that you really would have done that with a stranger but you didn´t regret it at all.

The maids were well dressed, combed and seemed to be in perfect physical and mood conditions, that always said a lot about how the families they worked for were.

What's your name? -You asked the girl closest to you

-Margrethe

-Margrethe can you tell me how the princes are? are they friendly?

-Yes, almost everyone is friendly most of the time, you don't have to worry.

-In addition they are very handsome-laughed the girl on the other side and you couldn´t help smiling at the dreamy tone with which she had said it.

-And strong warriors

The girls continued talking and giggling about some anecdotes of the princes until a slightly older woman came in the door.

-My princess, you must get out of the water, they are waiting for dinner. You smiled at the woman and followed her orders, without objecting to be helped to dress even if you usually did it alone, it was a light purple dress with small white details, accompanied by earrings and a necklace of the same color as the details.

You were nervous, it was impossible to deny or avoid it, you were going to meet your future husband and the family that you would live from that moment on, you couldn't help it. When you crossed the door and reached the grand hall the first person you saw was the queen who smiled at you warmly, then your brothers and finally three young men who watched you without saying a word, you knew that one of them was your fiance.

The oldest of the three approached and took your hand in his, you looked at him nervously and smiled while he left a kiss on your cheek and finally spoke- Nice to meet you my future wife, I'm Ubbe Lorthbrok, son of Ragnar Lothbrok and prince of Kattegat

-It's nice to meet you Ubbe, I'm the princess (YN)

You stared at each other for a while, in silence, Ubbe was incredibly handsome but you didn't feel any kind of spark or crush, what you thought you should feel in that moment, When you arrived at the dinner table you could see that there was an empty place and that it stayed like that all the night, Ubbe didn´t give you much conversation, he was more interested in Margrethe and it was normal but you still felt a little offended, your brothers talked to the queen about the deal derived from your marriage and the other two brothers argued, in conclusion, you were bored .

-Who sits there? -You asked pointing to the empty chair.

-Our brother-Ubbe responded quickly before some of the other boys could do it but still Sigurd spoke

-He hasn't come to dinner because he thinks weddings are stupid, the truth is that he's probably jealous because nobody loves him.

-Sigurd-Shouted his mother to shut up and this downplayed his hand.

You looked at him for a few moments until he got unconfortable, then at your brother who was drinking from his cup, looking at both of you, the boy was cute and seemed not to know how to shut up, just the type of guy for wich your brother always got into messes, wherever there was a cute boy or girl unable to shut up, there will be Eritz.

-Tell me (YN) what happened to your hair? they had told me it was very long- The queen asked, clearly trying to dismiss his son's comment.

-While I was lost I found a wanderer who showed me the way and attacked us, in the middle of the fight he cut my hair to save me, but I think he didn't like my hair very much and that's why he cut it- you said laughing and remembering how annoyed there was Ivar been when you made him wait to comb your hair.

-You are still pretty with short hair.

-Thank you Ubbe

When dinner was over Ubbe took you by the hand and asked you to accompany him, Eritz patted him on the back cheering him up and making you die of shame and Ales remained serious and his only words were "don't do anything stupid" when you were about to leave outside a man on crutches entered the room, you looked at him and you knew immediately who he was, his appearance had changed a bit, just like you were wearing clean clothes, he was clean, had taken a bath and wore new clothes. Ivar had not seen you yet, he was heading straight for the queen.

-Mother, if you have finished this stupid dinner, can I have mine?

-Ivar, your brother's fiancee is here, be kind.

That was when he turned to you and you probably both had the same expression of surprise because Ubbe asked if you were feeling good and Asalug said the same to his son.

He approached you and looked you up and down very seriously and then looked at his brother who seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the direct attention of his brother, Ivar smiled, a smile of self-realization

-So this is the woman you're going to marry- he took a strand of hair between his fingers and played with it, you did nothing,only closed your eyes waiting for that situation to end quickly, you felt your heart racing, you were scared, embarrassed, ashamed. Ubbe moved his brother's hand away from you quickly, causing the laughter of the youngest.

-Yes, and I don't want you to touch her.

-She´s afraid, you scared her - Sigurd said laughing and that made you open your eyes to meet those of Ivar and you could see the bitterness in them, all his playful and mocking way had disappeared

-I'm not afraid, I was only surprised -You contradicted him by taking the situation seriously -Nice to meet you, I'm princess (YN)

Ivar looked at you for a few more seconds and turned around to disappear again.

Although the place where Ubbe had taken you was beautiful and he was very handsome and kind you were unable to concentrate on the landscape or him, your head was on Ivar and how bad you felt.

What would happen if Ubbe found out what had happened between you? Could you live in the same house as Ivar while you were married to his brother? and even more important, you had the need to go after the man with deep blue eyes and apologize, although you didn't know exactly why.

#ivar x reader #Ivar #ivar the boneless #Vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarson #Ivar x OC #ubbe #imagine #scenario

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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years

Note

Please more of artist Jamie!!! So beautiful!

Follow up to this story

January 1976

Elias Pound had known Mandy MacKenzie for all of fourmonths – but he already knew he’d gladly follow her anywhere.

So when she proposed they spend an evening at a downtownart gallery – in a neighborhood she called SoHo (“But we have one of those inLondon,” he had protested – and she’d replied “This one has a capitalized H,silly goose”) – he immediately leapt at the chance to be with her. Even if itmeant following her on the subway (“Don’t you have one of those in London?” shehad teased), gaping at the half-beautiful, half-terrifying graffiti scrawledover the walls and seats and windows and exterior of the cars, stepping around thegarbage and panhandlers on the platform at Times Square and Grand Central whenthey transferred from the 1 to the Shuttle and then to the 6.

Once above ground at Spring Street, he thought she’d madea mistake – for the neighborhood appeared to be stone dead, even at arelatively early hour.

“Where is everybody?” Elias dug his hands into thepockets of his peacoat, pulse rocketing from a mix of fear and sheer joy asMandy slipped her mitten-clad hand through his arm.

“Barely anyone lives down here,” she explained, lookingboth ways before stepping off the curb. “It’s mostly artists and galleries.They love the big old buildings – fantastic twenty-foot ceilings in the rooms.”

A cab appeared out of nowhere, horn blaring. Mandy tuggedhis arm to stop – and the cab squealed by, the driver hurling obscenities.Calmly Mandy kept walking down Broadway, turning right onto Prince Street.

“And how did you find out about this exhibit?”

His eyes darted over to her; she just smiled and keptwalking.

“Here we are!”

And they were – for in the first sign of life since they’dleft the subway, a line snaked out of an industrial metal doorway and aroundthe corner. Elias could only see a tiny sign above the door – The Broch Gallery – and a burly man outfront, clearly the security guard.

Elias steeled himself to wait outside in the cold –regretting he hadn’t brought his knit cap – but then Mandy marched right up tothe man at the door.

“Hi – I’m Mandy MacKenzie,” she explained. “Elias here ismy guest. I should be on the list.”

The man fished in his pocket and produced an index card;he squinted, looked up at Mandy, and nodded. “All set, miss. Coat check is onyour left.”

“Thank you,” she smiled sweetly, taking Elias’ hand anddrawing him inside.

A woman wearing black took their coats and handed themeach a small booklet. Before Elias could even glance at the cover, they turned anothercorner and came face-to-face with a panel of text on a gallery wall.

JAMES FRASER: ART WITHOUT LIMIT, 1920-1975 – A RETROSPECTIVE

Elias could see several dozen people milling around in atleast six adjacent galleries, sipping champagne, studying the walls intently.

“Who’s James Fraser?” he whispered.

Mandy looped her arm through his. “Someone I’ve admiredmy whole life. You’ll see why. Don’t bother reading the labels – I’ll be yourtour guide.”

And she was.

The first gallery displayed small pastels and watercolorsof New York City street scenes in the 1920s – old cars rumbling down widestreets, women in elegant dresses pushing old-fashioned baby carriages onsidewalks, children playing tag on a gorgeous summer day in Prospect Park, ruddy-facedmen toasting their joy in cavernous long-gone beer halls.

These were interspersed with photographs. A combinationof society portraits and even more street scenes.

“Is that the Flatiron Building?”

“It is. Can you believe that it wasn’t yet twenty years oldwhen this photograph was taken? Even then it was still so controversial.”

Elias tilted his head at a series of three of formal,posed paintings of different women. “Who were they?”

“Wives of wealthy businessmen and lawyers.” Mandy noddeda thank-you to the woman who offered a tray of snacks. “He made a good livingas a portraitist. Back in the day, that was a way for men to show how muchmoney they had – by paying an artist to paint their wives. Even after photographybecame popular – they still insisted on it.”

Elias chewed thoughtfully. “I’d think it still is a wayfor men to show how much money they have. Someone I went to school with – I rememberthere was a painting of his mother in the house. I never quite understood it.”

Mandy led them to the next room – and Elias’ jaw justabout dropped.

It was another portrait – but so radically different fromwhat he had just seen.

A beautiful woman – her curly brown hair rioting aroundher ethereal face – wearing a dress that could only be described as anincredible shade of electric blue. Surrounded by sumptuous plants andblue-and-white Chinese porcelain. Strongly, confidently facing the viewer – a hintof mischief evident on her perfect lips.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Mandy squeezed his hand. “Thiswas the first work that truly got him noticed.”

“I should think so,” Elias breathed. “She’s – she’s so alive. So much more alive and presentthan in what we saw in the other room.”

“The artistry is without comparison,” Mandy agreed. “But thescandal that surrounded the painting made it even more notorious.”

“Scandal? What scandal? It’s a modest dress.”

She shook her head. “This portrait was commissioned byFrank Randall, on the occasion of his wife Claire’s thirtieth birthday, in thefall of 1925.”

“Frank Randall? As in Randall Steel? That Randall?”

“The same,” she grinned. “Anyway – Claire Randall wasvery famous in New York society at the time for throwing very grand parties attheir townhouse on East Sixty-Eighth Street. Somehow James Fraser got aninvitation to one of their parties – and once Frank learned he was an artist,he commissioned him to paint Claire.”

“I don’t see what’s so scandalous about that.”

Mandy smirked above her flute of champagne. “Well – you canimagine that Claire got to know the artist quite well as he painted herportrait. So well that when the painting was delivered to the Randalltownhouse, she told Frank she was leaving him, packed her bags, and moved inwith Jamie.”

“Oh my God!” Elias exclaimed. “Did she take the portraitwith her?”

“Of course! It hung in Jamie’s studio on East TwelfthStreet for many years.”

“And did they stay together?”

Mandy set down her empty flute on a passing waiter’s tray,and took Elias’ half-empty flute. “See for yourself.”

The next gallery was full of Claire Randall. Oilpaintings of her draped in a Japanese kimono. Pastel drawings of her reclining nudein bed, surrounded by rumpled sheets. Striking, black-and-white photographs ofher hands forming different shapes, and the curve of her spine, and the back ofher neck.

“She was his muse,” Elias murmured.

Mandy nodded. “My favorite is right over there.”

It was a small photograph – just about as big as aletter-sized sheet of paper. At the bottom right of the frame was a reflectionof the old-style camera; at the middle of the frame was Claire caught mid-laugh;and peeking over her shoulder was a man – hair parted down one side, eyescreasing with laughter.

“It’s called Joy;he took the photograph on their wedding day,” Mandy whispered. “In a publicbathroom at City Hall. Probably ten minutes after they exchanged vows.”

Elias swallowed, his heart soaring at the explosion oflove and adoration captured so simply and elegantly in the photograph.

“I’m surprised Randall gave her a divorce.”

“Apparently she threatened to go to the papers with proofof all his affairs. My understanding is that it was settled quite quickly.”

He wanted to know more – so very much more – but sheushered him into the next gallery.

Here the artist’s style had clearly matured; thecityscapes were bolder in outline, brighter in their use of color.

“He immigrated from Scotland as a very young man. But NewYork City has always been his home. His art documents what it’s like to livehere.”

It did – subways, and buses, and even photographs ofairplanes landing at Kennedy or LaGuardia. Interspersed with photographs ofClaire as she got older – still smiling, now in color – in what appeared to bethe same East Twelfth Street studio.

Before he knew it, they were in the last gallery. Whichheld a single artwork – another painting of Claire, posed almost identically asshe had been in the scandalous portrait. Surrounded by ferns, and Chineseporcelain; wearing another electric blue dress. Her face had more wrinkles, andher hair was gray – but she was still so vibrantly alive.

Mandy withdrew her arm, but he didn’t realize she hadcompletely left his side until an unfamiliar voice spoke beside him.

“Personally I prefer this one to the older one.”

“I’d have to agree,” Elias remarked, turning to his newneighbor. “In fact – ”

He froze.

“It’s you,” he croaked.

Claire Fraser – hair still curly after all these years,wearing a bright green dress and gorgeous silver jewelry – smiled.

“It’s me,” she agreed. “Jamie painted this one to commemoratemy eightieth birthday last October – and, of course, the fiftieth anniversarysince the first one.”

“Oh my God,” Elias breathed. “I – you – um, you are verybeautiful.”

Then Mandy appeared, and slung an arm around Claire’sside. “Are you flirting with my grandma?”

“Grandma?”

“Come on, Mandy – you’ll make the poor man suffer a heartattack right here. I thought you told me you liked him.”

Stupidly Elias stuck out one hand. “I’m Elias Pound.”

Claire laughed. “Yes, I know. Mandy’s told us all aboutyou. You study engineering together, right?”

“Always had a head for numbers, that one.” An older manappeared beside Claire, and kissed her cheek. “Just like our daughter – her Mam.God knows where she got that from.”

Claire nodded at Elias. “Jamie, this is Elias.”

Elias gulped. “H-hi,” he stammered.

“Ach, no need to be shy, lad! I dinna bite.” Jamie Fraserheartily clapped Elias’ shoulder. “So – do ye like the paintings?”

“Be honest,” Mandy teased.

Elias cleared his throat. “I – um – yes. I’m stillgetting to know New York, and it’s so interesting to see how your workdocuments how the city has changed.”

Jamie looked over at his granddaughter, one still-redeyebrow raised. “Very astute observation. Good that he appreciates things thataren’t numbers.”

Mandy groaned. “Be nice, Grand-da. We go to museums allthe time – we get in for free with our student IDs.”

Elias cleared his throat. “Also, sir, your work is one ofthe most honest and pure representations of love that I’ve ever seen. I – I can’tquite describe it, but I can just feelit pouring out of the frame. It makes my heart race. And that’s something thathasn’t changed – am I right?”

Jamie and Claire and Mandy – she had Jamie’s eyes, herealized – looked at him, eyes wide. Quietly Mandy stepped forward to take hishand, squeezing it. So proud.

“Thank you,” Jamie whispered, drawing Claire to his side.“You understand. She’s everything.”

“Yes,” Elias agreed, looking at Mandy. “She is.”

#;mod gotham #this is the best way i can think of to tell the rest of artist!jamie and claire's story #all of the artist aus

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ladylilibet · 5 years

Text

Tainted Love|Chapter 1.

I/II/III/IV/V

Tainted Love -- How can you tell a lady no? The White Wolf claimed he needed no one, but his collection of misfits started with Lady Helena of Oxenfurt... and ended with her, too.

Chapter One: 𝕷𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖂𝖍𝖔 𝕮𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝕯𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗

Helena pricked her finger on her embroidery needle yet again. With a curse, she threw her hoop down in frustration. Her governess shot her a glare but said nothing as she worked on her own stitching. The girl mouthed an apology and picked up her book.

Being the daughter and the only heir of a duke had its perks. Besides having the best education on the continent her fingertips, she had the wealth and splendor to go with it. And yet here she sat, still feeling empty. She wanted to live like the characters in her books. To fight with a sword, sleep under the stars, travel. She felt trapped.

'I bet that the heroes in these narratives didn't have to wear a corset that was too tight.' She thought as she fidgeted in her chair. Now she would be allowed to walk along the main road in town and do her daily window shopping. But her mother recently set a curfew, forbidding her to even leave the villa at sundown.

Lately, those who partake in too much drink and wander the streets during the night have been found dead and drained of their blood. Witnesses can only recall large shadows moving at quick speeds. The beast, with its penchant for only partaking in drunkard's blood, has been aptly named The Oxenfurt Drunk.

She only ever seen monsters in her books -- just mere illustrations lazily drawn. Curiosity ached in her bones, but she knew she couldn't dare sneak out to get a glimpse at the bloodsucker. The Drunk defied the knowledge of the local academy's scholars as well as the swords of my father's commanders. Because of this, King Radovid V ordered her father to post a contract for an experienced monster hunter to slay the beast. The reward: 200 crowns and dinner at the Duke and Duchess of Oxenfurt's villa.

"Helena!" The Duchess called for her down the corridor. She knew it was best to not shout back, so she tucked a ribbon in her book, marking her place. As she stood, he smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and gave a quick goodbye to the older woman before leaving the study.

As she walked down the hall, she was greeted by my parents and a stranger. In addition to standing a head taller than my father, he had long white hair and bright golden eyes. He was beautiful in a way she'd never describe most of the men around here. He looked like a knight straight out of her books and she was aware of how plain others looked in contrast to him.

"Aah, there she is! Geralt of Rivia, meet my little daughter, Lady Helena." Her father gleamed as he gave Geralt a hearty smack on the back, "The White Wolf has slain the Oxenfurt Drunk! Can ya believe it? A Witcher in my home!"

A Witcher? That explains his looks. He's a mutant. And yet... She would never want to use that word to describe him.

She curtsied after my father introduced her and held out a hand for him to kiss. But rather than bring her hand to his lips, he gave the girl a firm handshake. She furrowed her brow at this response but ignored it. She heard that Witchers cannot feel nor understand human emotion and assumed this applied to manners as well .

"Thank you, kind sir, for slaying the beast. I am very fortunate to be able to walk the streets once more and do so safely ." Helena repeated the words she could see her mother mouthing. She clapped happily once she finished.

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for coin."

She huffed but her father interrupted her before she could say anything smart to the man.

"And for a hot meal," He told him as he gestured for them to follow him to the dining room. "I hope you like suckling pig, Witcher. Little Lena over here saved the piglet when it wouldn't latch on to its mam's tit. Spoonfed it and all, thinkin' she would be savin' it from death. Turns out she was savin' it for our dinner." Her father's boisterous laugh made her stomach turn.

Dinner went about as well as expected. Her mother and father tried to masque their bragging as hospitality. But Helena could see through their guise.

'Look, Witcher! Look what we have that you don't. Take a look at your dirty reflection on our shiny, silver spoons.' I could imagine them saying.

Geralt was hard to read but he at least had a realness about him. With him, a grunt meant 'yes,' and a 'hmm' meant 'no.'

"Witcher, can I call ya Witcher?"

A grunt.

"Ya got a little lady back home?"

A 'hmm.'

"Would you like to stay in our guest chambers?"

Another 'hmm.'

"Would you like a hot bath before you take your leave?"

A pause, a ponder, then a grunt.

A servant escorted him to the bathroom, leaving them to sit in silence.

Helena waited for Geralt to be out of earshot before breaking the silence and mimicking him with a grunt.

She received a glare from my father and her mother stood and leaned across the table. With no hesitation, she delivered a smack onto the girl's cheek.

"Don't continue to embarrass us, girl."

"Once he's finished, go get washed up." Her mother commanded, "You're to have Poppy escort you to Samson's mother and father's home. We're to celebrate both the killing of the beast and your engagement, so be prompt."

She waited to hear my parents' carriage pull away before standing and stomping up to the second story. She waited in front of the bathroom's door before taking a deep breath, covering her eyes, and barging in. Water splashed as Geralt was surprised by the sudden intrusion but she kept her hand placed over her eyes .

"Oh nooo. I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were in here!"

"So you enter all empty rooms with eyes covered?" She peaked out behind my hands to see his amused smirk, "Or did Little Lena wish to join my bath?"

She turned beet red and threw her hands to her side in protest with a scoff. Despite the temptation to look down, she locked eyes with him.

"I need you to help me escape." His smirk faded and he now donned a glare.

She waited for him to give her a response, but when none came, she proceeded with her monologue, "I hate it here. Oxenfurt may seem progressive, but I'm not granted the same liberties... My elder sister, she got pregnant out of wedlock. Died during childbirth along with her baby. They say it's a curse, punishment, I say it's just bad luck. But that didn't stop them from tightening the reins."

"And you think you're the first girl to beckon me that I rescue you?" He asks as he lounges back, "You're well-fed, well-dressed, and live in a great city. Why leave?"

"I'm not happy. I want to live a life worth living. Not to be some man's wife, seen merely as a womb."

Geralt slowly stood and she clasped a hand over my eyes once more, eliciting a chuckle from him as he grabbed his towel . Once she knew he was covered , I looked to him once more.

"They'll say I kidnapped you."

"They already say you're a monster. What's wrong with conforming to their narrative?"

"I don't need some girl to slow me down, to get in the way."

"I can learn to fight. I've studied some nursing and can take care of you... Plus, the two hundred crowns you received from my father, well... I have broaches you can pawn off that's worth double.

Geralt stared hard at her, seeming to challenge her, but she didn't back down. After silence, he huffed, "Go. Pack a bag and meet me at the stables. I leave in twenty, with or without you."

She turned on my heel with bouncing excitement as I rushed to the door. As Helena left, she heard Geralt grunt and utter one phrase:

"Fuck."

#witcher oc #geraltxoc #witcher fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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whattimeisitintokyo · 5 years

Text

I Could Never Hate You (Part 2)

Heeeeeeey, did you miss me? Probably not. I have no excuses, but here’s the rest of the chapter. Bleep!

“Im… Imelda?”

“Héctor!” Imelda reached over and cupped his face with her hand, looking deep into his blurry eyes. “Are you here with me? Do you understand me?”

“S-si… I can’t… I can’t move my arms. Agh, Dios, my head!”

“Hold on.” Imelda made quick work to unlatch the thick straps wrapped around his wrists, and once one was free his hand immediately went up to his forehead to try to soothe the pounding ache. When she had finished with the other one she was back close to his face. “Héctor, I need you to relax and tell me what you remember last.”

It took a few seconds, as Héctor gazed dully at his wife, before the memories started to flood back. “Ernesto…” he choked out, lowering his hand over his eyes as he bitterly wept. “I saw him… He’s-”

“Okay.” Imelda shushed him and ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Okay, you don’t need to say anything else.”

Héctor blinked up at the harsh lighting and his gaze went around the room, recognition settling in and disgust coming in quickly. He recognized this place. This was where his little girl had wasted away into nothing while he foolishly believed that she was getting the help she needed. And anger was a much better feeling to have than despair. It helped him, gave him strength. It would do. “Why am I in this hospital?” he growled. “Why am I here?”

Imelda’s face hardened and she looked at him with exasperation and anger, making him shrink back. “Why are you here? Héctor, you… You brought yourself here! You’ve been drinking so much that your body nearly shut down when you stopped. You haven’t been eating, you are ten pounds underweight! Your lungs are so congested that I-… I watched you nearly choke to death Héctor! How could you have neglected your health so much?! Were you trying to kill yourself?!”

Did you try to kill yourself Ernesto?

With a shake of his head he turned away from his wife with a snarl as he focused on anything else but her and that horrible thought of his brother. “Of course not! I would never do anything so… so cowardly! What do you care anyway?”

She didn’t answer, but Héctor heard the sharp inhale before there was a quiet still. It lasted far too long, until finally the metallic screech of the chair she was sitting on startled him into looking at her again. Imelda had stood up and patted her dress down, refusing to look at him, and cleared her throat. “I must tell the doctor that you are awake and aware.”

As she quickly walked towards the door, each click of her heels sent a sharp stab of pain directly into Héctor’s heart. She was leaving him. Again. And this time he knew why. He shouldn’t have snapped at her. But his head was throbbing just as terribly as the ache in his chest, and he had lashed out in his pain and suffering. But it wasn’t just this. The past few years of distance, that had eventually grown into separation, had been on him.

It was all his fault. It had to be.

“I’m sorry Imelda.”

His desperate, whimpering voice reached her just as she had opened the door, making her pause. She turned her head towards him so he could see her beautiful profile, but still wouldn’t look him in the eye. Still, he had gotten her attention, and he could work with that.

Make her listen.

“This is all my fault… Not yours.” Héctor said softly, his vision slowly becoming even more blurry with tears. His head only felt worse, and it hurt to breathe, but he continued anyway. “I’ve been a t-terrible husband… and father, and a… a terrible friend. I couldn’t see how bad Ernesto was because I was only caring about myself, and now he’s… He’s gone. And it’s all my fault.”

It was at this point Héctor had dissolved into sobs and what he was saying could easily be described as blubbering. But he couldn’t stop. “I should have been stronger, I should have made him go to a doctor, or just have kept him in the room, just not on the stage. But I was too weak. I’m too weak. It’s all my fault. He’s dead… I couldn’t keep him off the stage, and I couldn’t make Matty stay at home, I couldn’t make you-… I’m so sorry, Imelda!”

He broke off into a fit of weeping, trying and failing to keep it at a low volume. Trying not to look as truly pathetic as he felt. With his eyes still squeezed shut in misery he heard the door solidly close, and his heart shattered. It didn’t work. He had poured his heart out to Imelda, and she still left him. He had finally talked to her, tried for one last time, and he had still failed. Curling as much as his IVs would allow, he buried his face into his pillow and continued to cry. So lost in his misery he didn’t even realize that he wasn’t alone, until a soft voice startled him.

“Who said that you were a terrible husband and father?”

With a gasp he looked up and saw Imelda staring down at him, with an unreadable yet soft expression. His breath stuttered to halt at seeing her look at him like that, and for the life of him he couldn’t answer her. His voice was stuck in his throat as he gaped at her with tears still spilling silently down his cheeks. Luckily for him Imelda continued on her own.

“You have been nothing but a loving and devoted father.” Imelda said as she sat down on the side of the bed, and now that she was closer Héctor could read the expression past his blurry gaze. She looked so… sad. “Our children couldn’t adore you more if they tried. Never think differently.”

With a sniffle, Héctor smothered a cough as he swiped at his eyes. “But… But Matty. I let him go. If he dies…”

“Then it will be the fault of whoever kills him. Not his, not yours.” With a bowed head she looked down at he clasped hands in her lap. “And you didn’t let him do anything. Mateo does what he wants.” Then, suddenly, Imelda did something that Héctor had not seen from her in quite some time and made his heart flutter. She smiled. “Remember when he wanted to join the fútbol team, and I was afraid that he would fail, or hurt himself? I refused to sign the permission slip, and what did he do?”

Héctor was surprised when, despite all his sorrow, the corner of his mouth twitched upward at the memory. “He forged your signature.”

“And despite my concerns, he surpassed my expectations an succeeded in it. Even kicked the winning goal in his first game. Probably just to prove to me that I worried over nothing.”

“This isn’t a fútbol game.” Héctor whispered, the fleeting lightness of mirth vanished. “I sent him off to war.”

“No.” Imelda shook her head firmly. “No he was already going, you sent him off with a lighter heart. With the knowledge that you didn’t hate him for his decision. I… didn’t realize that until afterwards. It’s what I should have done.”

“That’s why you sent him boots?”

“Si.” Imelda nodded and smiled again. “He is still an idiota, but I wanted him to know that I still love him with all of my heart… Like you did. I am sorry Héctor. I never should have said those things to you when it happened.”

Héctor sniffled again, the tight vice around his heart lessening just a little at her words. Knowing that she didn’t blame him for Matty’s actions made him feel a little better, but he still had to know the full truth. “But… you said it. Because you… wanted me to leave… Didn’t you?”

“…Si.”

Héctor sank deeper into the pillow and turned his gaze away from her. He knew it. She didn’t love him anymore. She truly didn’t want him with her. That was it. It was over.

“It’s for the best. You deserve so much better.”

Héctor’s head snapped back to stare at Imelda in confusion. A little too fast as his aching head protested against the harsh movement, but he struggled through the pain just as he struggled through his confusion. “Better?” he whispered. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Imelda looked away and crossed her arms across her chest tightly, almost as if she was hugging herself. Or maybe to prevent herself from touching him. “You’re a successful man, Héctor. And you’re still young. Young enough to find another woman who would be more than happy to start a new life with you.”

“Y-young?!” Héctor choked out in disbelief. “Imelda, I’m a grandfather.”

Imelda waved a hand at him dismissively. “That means nothing to a man. You’ll be as virile now until the day you die. You can expand your legacy even more with someone else. I’m finished Héctor. I have nothing more I can give you.”

Héctor’s brow furrowed in utter confusion, his weakened mind slowly trying to piece together what Imelda was saying. “What are you talking about? Imelda, you’ve given me so much. How can you say you have nothing-”

“I am old, Héctor.” Imelda cut him off, and for the first time Héctor saw her cold façade crack into something vulnerable. “I am sagging and wrinkled. And not only that I am broken. Everything that made me worthy of being your wife is gone. Cut from me never to be replaced. I am a shadow of what I once was, and I am no use to you anymore.”

With a slow blink, Héctor suddenly understood. “Imelda… Are you talking about the surgery?” She didn’t answer, but her silence was answer enough. “Imelda! You nearly died! The surgery saved your life!”

“And it ruined my body!” Imelda choked out, and she finally started to cry. “I see that scar everyday Héctor. It’s hideous and it’s disgusting. I’ve never felt so disgusted, and so… So embarrassed! And ashamed! I am not a woman anymore, at least not one that can bear you children!”

“I don’t want more children!” Héctor shouted, and the strain of the outburst proved too much as his chest was seized with a fit of deep hacking coughs.

Imelda was at his side in a second pressing a soft rag against his mouth as the violent coughs shook him. After what seemed like too long, to the point she was afraid that he would pass out again, Héctor finally drew in enough air to gasp and collapsed back onto the bed in exhaustion. As she wiped at his lips gently and shushed him, Héctor locked eyes with her and held her gaze.

“Imelda, I love you.” He whispered, his voice rough from his fit. “I’ve loved you since I was eleven years old… The angelic girl in the creek who sang La Llorona so… hauntingly beautiful… You’re all I ever wanted. But I wanted you for you, not as a… a baby factory.”

Imelda laughed softly, bitterly, as she stood up to walk towards the trash bin. “Some factory!” she sneered as she tossed the soiled rag into the bin. “I couldn’t even carry our child to term. I was just too old, and Miguel nearly died before he had a chance to live.”

“But he is alive! You’re alive! Everything is fine!”

“And I gave you the most beautiful little girl.” She whimpered and lowered her head into a dry sob. “Leticia… with flowers in her hair… and in the end she rotted away.”

Héctor choked on tears as he struggled to sit up. “No. Imelda, that’s not true.”

“And I made you give up on her!”

“That’s not true!”

“How could you love a woman who killed her own daughter?!”

“Enough! Imelda, I –UGH!”

It wasn’t until he had crashed to the ground did Héctor realize that he had forced himself out of the bed, desperate to reach his hysterical wife. His weakened limbs couldn’t bear even his own meager weight and landed heavily on his knees and arms in an awkward, painful kneel. He hissed as sharp pain shot through him and collapsed to his side, his ringing ears preventing him from hearing Imelda’s terrified gasp.

“Héctor!”

And then suddenly he felt her hands on him, pulling him up into sitting position and muttering frantically that he had to get back into bed. As the pain slowly subsided he managed to grab her hand with his, squeezing hard and trying to draw strength from her. When she stilled and looked at him, he brought her hand up to his face and nuzzled it. Dios, he missed her. And being so close to her he could actually smell her again. And her kiss her palm, and-

Ay, mierda. I kissed her palm!

With a start he looked up at Imelda, expecting to hear a barrage of curses or maybe even being on the receiving end of a few indignant slaps. But what he saw stole his breath away. She just looked at him with profound sadness in her eyes, tears still running down her cheeks, and there was something else. Something that pulled at his heart and gave him the courage to keep pressing forward.

It was longing.

“Imelda.” Héctor whispered as he again pressed her hand against his face. “You didn’t kill her. She was too sick, and you did not make her sick. And you didn’t make me give up on her. You were right. All I was doing was hurting Leti. And you… You did it first.”

Imelda blinked. “Did what first?”

Héctor smiled. “You said I let Matty go with a lighter heart. Well… You did it first, to our little girl. She didn’t have to fight anymore. She died peacefully with her family at home. That was because of you, and I am forever grateful for that.”

“And I don’t want more children, or a young mistress, or anything like that. All I ever wanted was a real family. Ever since I was a little boy, after realizing that my Mamá and Papá were never going to come back for me. And when I saw the bossy, snooty girl who always made fun of me for being too short, sing my favorite song in the most beautiful way… I knew I wanted to start one with you. I don’t care if you can’t have any more children. I just want you to be healthy, Imelda. And no matter how many scars or wrinkles or gray hairs you’ll get, you will always be the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I don’t want you to hate yourself Imelda, and if you do I’ll just have to love you twice as much to make up for it. Because, when I married you… I was ready to be with you… for life.”

Imelda closed her eyes and nodded, fresh tears falling and a trembling smile suppressing her weeping. With a shaking hand Héctor wiped the tears off of her face, and soon she too was nuzzling his hand. Slowly they came closer together until their foreheads were resting against each other, noses barely touching, and they just stared at each other and cried.

“Imelda… Mi amor… Mi diosa… Please tell me you still love me… Por favor…”

…

“You are the love of my life.”

When the nurse came in several minutes later for a routine check on her patient, she was startled into a near heart attack and horrified at what she saw: Héctor Rivera, the man who all of Mexico had been waiting on with bated breath to wake up from Death’s door, and Imelda Rivera, the fashion mogul and shrewd businesswoman who had been coldly separated from her husband for months, were on the cold hard ground in a twist of IV tubes and blankets. Laughing, crying hysterically, and kissing each other with intense fervor.

The nurse frantically called for orderlies and doctors to come lift Héctor of the floor and back into the bed, difficult to do when he and his wife couldn’t stop clinging to each other. Once he was settled back into bed, and the doctors tried to treat him and question his wellbeing between all the kissing a crying, did they finally leave them alone again.

Ernesto was dead. He would have to be buried. Héctor would have to watch his friend be placed into his eternal resting place. It was the lowest he had ever felt in his life. But as his wife peppered his face with kisses and whispered words of love and apologies, that she did love him, that she wanted him to come home as soon as he was well, that she missed him and that Miguel missed him too, Héctor finally started to feel himself slowly rise from the pit of rock bottom.

It was a tragedy, but things couldn’t get worse than they were now.

Now it was time for things to start looking up.

“I can’t believe you’re kissing me!” Héctor said as he giggled.

“I can’t help it.” Imelda said as she kissed him for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last hour. “I love you. And I miss you. Anyone would kiss their husband in this situation.”

“No, I meant that I’ve been the hospital for days! I must stink and taste too terrible to kiss!”

“I don’t care.” Imelda kissed him again, this time on the brow, and nuzzled his forehead. “I want you to come home Héctor.”

“Si, of course.” Héctor whispered. “I’ve wanted to come home for so long.”

“As long as you don’t mind sharing the bed with someone else… Someone younger. Like I have for the past few months.”

There was a beat of silence, before Héctor leaned back to look Imelda in the eyes again, a cold feeling of dread starting to creep back into his heart. “What?”

Imelda held his gaze for a second, before a sly smile curled her lips. “I got a new cat… Her name is Pepita.”

“….. You are so lucky I’m in a hospital right now. I think I just had a stroke.”

Imelda laughed again, with Héctor joining her, and they resumed kissing, and crying, and kissing some more. When the nurse came back in again later, she was once again shocked and exasperated at the sight of the both of them, cramped together on the small hospital bed, sound asleep in each other’s arms.

————————————————————

Ay! AY! This is terrible! Mierda! Basura! I can’t eat any more of this!

It had been a week since Héctor had woken up in the hospital and it had been a week since he had regained the love of his wife. With the promise that they would be together again, that he would finally get to go home, that he would get be with his adorable Miguelito and that that Coco would also be coming back with him, Héctor was ready to leave the hospital as soon as he had showered and shaved. The doctor, however, had abruptly dashed those hopes away.

‘Well Señor Rivera, I must say that you have some amazing lungs.’

‘Ha, you see Imelda? I’m fine! When can I-’

‘Amazing due to the fact that they’re both so full of fluid it’s a miracle that they’ve been able to absorb as much oxygen as they have been.’

‘… Ah…’

‘I’m sorry señor, but it’s going to be a while until you are properly discharged. But if you want to get out of here faster I suggest you rest as much as you can and eat everything that is put in front of you. You need to put on some weight.’

And so he had. It wasn’t hard to sleep; he was so weak nowadays that he could fall asleep at the drop of a hat despite the glaring lights and sunny rays pouring through his window. The eating, on the other hand, that was the challenge. Granted, since he had finally finished enduring a painful withdrawal from the alcohol and he was finally back with his family, Héctor had gotten back his appetite tenfold. He was still gaining weight painfully slow, which had always been a problem for him, but he had become a bottomless pit.

There was just one problem.

Hospital food was made in Hell by el Diablo himself.

With a hard swallow Héctor gulped down the mouthful of food he had been chewing on for two full minutes, and with a pleading whine and smile he held out the bowl to his two judges sitting on either side of him on the bed. Said judges being his youngest son and his granddaughter.

Miguel looked into the bowl and then shook his head. “Uh-uh.”

“There’s still some left.” Victoria piped up. “Finish it, or no dessert.”

Héctor groaned and looked up for any potential allies in the three adults sitting in the room with him. But Imelda, Coco and Vicente just stared at him with crossed arms and hard expressions, silently demanding that he finish his meal. Except for Coco. No, fire flashed in her eyes and Héctor shrunk away from her intense gaze, combining the last two bites into one huge glob and shoveling it into his mouth. He gagged a little at the taste and struggled to chew the large mass, but he did it. Anything to placate his sweet, terrifying little Coco.

Coco had always taken after him in temperament. Kind, motherly, always willing to help out others, and very gentle. But when she got really riled up, that was when the Imelda in her rose to prominence and blasted her ire at anyone in the wrong. So when Coco had visited him after he had woken up, had seen both him and her mother together and happy again, and was reassured that he would be all right, she had sighed in relief and smiled with happy tears.

‘Ay, gracias a Dios. I had prayed for so long… that you two… IDIOTS!… WOULD STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS!’

And so Héctor and Imelda had sat there in shocked silence while their little girl screamed and bellowed at them, and called them names, and shamed them to the point where in the end they could do nothing more than slump in pure dejection and just accept everything their daughter yelled at them like she was their own mother and they were the naughty children.

‘For months! NO! For years! YEEEAAARS! I have watched you sulk and whine and piddle and cry and not even try stand up for yourself while Mamá treated you like dirt! No, instead you drank yourself into a hospital bed and made all of us worry for your health when you didn’t care at all! What an wonderful example you’ve set for your son and granddaughter! No, you’re not a grandfather! You’re just a kicked puppy trailing after Mamá! And you Mamá, are the puppy kicker! Imelda Rivera, kicker of puppies! You should be ashamed of yourself! And why?! Because you were depressed about the surgery! All- of-this-could-have-been-prevented-if-you-had-just-TOLD-US!’

After she had finished, and making her parents vow that they would never do this to her or the family again, she had dragged an amazed Julio off by the wrist and had gone back to the mansion for the night. When they had returned the next morning to visit, no one mentioned the fact they both had suspicious marks and scratches on their necks and arms or that they were wearing the same clothes from the previous day.

With a heaving gulp and a disgusted groan, Héctor collapsed back onto the propped up pillows and let the bowl clatter to his side. Miguel picked the bowl up to inspect, and then held it up triumphantly. “It’s empty!”

Everyone cheered and clapped in such a patronizing way that Héctor growled and rolled his eyes in annoyance. “That was the worst one yet.” He groaned and held onto his gurgling stomach. “How can you screw up corn and beans so much?” He watched a Miguel curiously ran a finger through the lingering blob of gravy left in the bowl to taste it, smiling as the little boy’s face screwed up in disgust.

Vicente chuckled , stood up and walked over to the huge pile of flowers, balloons, gift baskets and presents that took up the whole side of the room. It had taken him and Julio several trips to bring up all of the gifts from the fans and Mexico’s elite, and the room was so overpowering with the scent of flowers. “I don’t think hospitals put seasoning in their food. It’s to nourish you, not upset a weak stomach. However, I think a little treat won’t hurt you.” He picked out an ivory box and brought it over to the bed. “Esther Fernández sent you a box of chocolates from Switzerland, along with a sweet note to get well soon.”

“Chocolate!” Miguel shouted and reached for the box, Victoria preventing him from flinging the lid away and placing it gently next to her. “Can we have some too, Papá?”

“Of course, but save some for me!” Héctor said as he plucked one out of the box. “Anything to get the taste out of my mouth.”

Vicente went back over to the pile of gifts and pulled out another, wooden box and handled it nervously. “Also, Emilio Fernández sent you this box of cigars. Very poor taste for someone getting over pneumonia, and… I thought since you don’t smoke I could give them to a friend of mine who would appreciate them more?”

Héctor waved him off and stuffed two chocolates in his mouth. “Take them, they’re yours. I can’t stand the smell of them.”

“Gracias, Señor.” Vicente said and sat back down with a drawn out sigh, rubbing the back of his neck and closing his eyes.

His exhaustion wasn’t unnoticed by the rest of the adults in the room, and when the three of them exchanged knowing looks Coco reached out to touch his arm gently. “Chente, you look so tired.”

Vicente blinked his eyes open. “Me? No no, I’m fine. It’s just… been very hectic for everyone this past week. We’ve finally settled on a burial site for Señor de la Cruz in Santa Cecilia and construction of a tomb for him is underway, but… there’s still so much to do. Like canceling the production on the movie, sending back the funding to the investors, a massive retooling for the new year’s schedual, and worst of all… I can’t find Señor de la Cruz’s Chihuahuas anywhere!”

Victoria gasped. “Oh, poor puppies!”

Héctor listened to Vicente’s woes in silence, nodding and smiling solemnly. “I’m sorry Chente. You’ve been under a lot of pressure for a long time.”

Vicente shook his head. “It’s all right. You’ve been sick.”

“Not just now.” Héctor said. “The whole time you’ve been my assistant you’ve been doing my workload as well as your own, while I’ve been wallowing in my own self-pity. I didn’t realize it but I took you for granted, and for that I’m truly sorry. You’ve been absolutely wonderful and I am very grateful for it.”

Vicente’s face flushed red at the praise, and he bowed his head humbly. “W-well… Gracias Señor Rivera. I would do anything to help you and your company. When you’re well again everything will be waiting for you back in tip top shape, I promise.”

Héctor smiled. “Oh, I’m not coming back.”

“… Que?”

Héctor looked at Imelda, who took his hand lovingly and nodded encouragingly, and continued. “I’m not an executive, Chente. I have no talent for business, and numbers. You do. Now I’ll still be the sole head of the company, but I’ll be leaving all those boring aspects to you. I’m retiring and going home to live with my family, and you’ll be the new CEO of Rivera de la Cruz Productions and Records.”

“… Que?”

“But don’t panic, Chente. It’s not going to be overnight. You’re going to get all of the training you need, set you up with an excellent team and board, get you all nice and settled in. You won’t be alone in all of this.” Héctor smiled warmly and held out his hand to the poor man. “You’ve helped me and the company so much this last year, it’s high time you get the right pay and a title to go with it. I hope you say yes, because there’s no one else I trust more than you.”

Vicente sputtered for a few seconds, his face turning from a burning red into a pallid white, before with a jerking nod he robotically grasped Héctor’s hand and shook it once. “Yeah… Yes! S-si! Gracias, Señor Rivera! Héctor! I won’t let you down- AY! What am I saying?! Yes I will! How can I run a company when I can’t even find four dogs and make sure that you eat?!”

“Don’t you worry about him, Vicente.” Imelda said as she squeezed Héctor’s hand. “I’ll make sure that he eats. You take care of the less important stuff.”

“O-kay. Okay, okay, okay, okay…” Vicente mumbled, standing up on shaking feet and walking over to Héctor’s unused oxygen cylinder. “Please excuse me. I think I’m going to pass out.” With trembling hands he strapped the mask over his face and cracked the valve open to full blast, taking in deep gulping breaths and sliding down onto the floor.

Miguel jumped off the bed and walked over to where Vicente laid slumped against the wall, gently patting his head. “You’ll be okay.” Miguel reached down, pried open Vicente’s shaking hands, and placed a half melted piece of chocolate into it, smiling sweetly.

A few minutes later, once it was determined that Vicente definitely would take the promotion and definitely wouldn’t throw up, Julio walked in with a large wooden box under his arm. “Hola Papá Héctor. How are you feeling? Did you eat?”

Héctor rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I ate! Dios mio, I’ll eat mud if it means these quacks will just let me out of here.”

“Well, I know how bored you are, so I brought you this!” Turning the box over, Julio showed everyone that it was in fact a small radio. “I thought that maybe if you could listen to the news or some programs it’ll make your stay seem shorter.”

“What a wonderful idea, mi amor.” Coco said.

“Gracias. It’s a wireless one and portable too!” Julio said as he tried to find a place to set it down amongst all of the gifts. “Ay… Chente, can I just move some of these on the ground?”

Vicente, staring off into space, barely acknowledged him with an affirmative grunt.

Once a spot had been cleared and the box switched on, Julio fiddled with the knobs until the radio static finally began to tune into a station. “Alright then, just a few more adjustments and here… we… go!”

“-you cry!”

“For even if I’m far away I hold you in my heart”

“I sing a secret song to you-“

Julio sighed. “Ay, they’re still playing his songs nonstop. It’s understandable, but still.”

Coco nodded. “Si, Tio Nesto endeared himself to a whole nation. It warms my heart to know how much he’s touched everyone so-”

“Héctor?!”

At Imelda’s cry, both Julio and Coco turned to see Imelda hovering over the bed as Héctor was… rocking back and forth, trembling violently and cramming the heels of his hands into his ears as hard as he could. His breathing became labored and a low, keening sound was coming out of his throat. His eyes were so wide and pinpricked, and even though the others couldn’t see it, all Héctor could see was red.

Blood! So much blood!

It’s all torn up! What happened?! Where are you?!

Ernesto!

The song won’t stop playing!

The bell won’t stop ringing!

It’s all over me!

STOP THE SONG! STOP THE SONG! STOPTHESONGSTOPTHESONGSTOPTHESONGSTOPTHESONG

“JULIO, TURN IT OFF!”

STOPTHESONGSTOPTHESONGSTOPTHESONGSTOP THESONGSTOPTHE-

“HÉCTOR STOP! Héctor, stop! It’s off! It’s off! Cálmese, mi amor. Cálmese… Shhhhh….”

With a sharp gasp, Héctor found himself lying back down of the bed. Imelda was hovering over him with a terrified expression, and the doctor was next to him drawing back an empty syringe and checking his pulse. As his eyes roamed around the room he saw Coco holding onto Victoria as the little girl cried into her mother’s shoulder, and Vicente was holding onto a wide-eyed Miguel.

As a wave of drowsiness started to engulf him, Héctor turned back to Imelda and stared up at her in anguish.

“It’s alright, Héctor.” Imelda said gently.

Héctor shook his head slowly as the sedative took effect, tears falling down his face. “No… it’s not… No more… ’Melda… no more… mu-…”

As he drifted off into a drugged state of unconsciousness, he didn’t notice the worried looks that the adults exchanged with one another, and he didn’t hear the innocent question his son asked them all. A question they couldn’t really answer.

“No more what, Mamá?”

———————————————————————

“~MEEEEEEEEEE!~”

“AAAAAARGH!”

Instead of the rapturous applause he was expecting after belting out the last note of his song, Ernesto was startled by the sound of a hoarse, raspy scream of an old man. His eyes shot opened and he flinched back in confusion at his surroundings. The stage, the lights, the orchestra, the audience, the theater! Vanished! In the blink of an eye they were all gone! Instead he was in a rather sterile looking room not unlike what you would find in a hospital, and he wasn’t standing anymore either, but sitting up on a simple fold-out gurney.

Where am I?

“Puta Madre! What the hell?! Who the hell wakes up singing like that?!”

Ernesto turned towards the gravelly voice of the only other occupant in the room with him: a short, stubby old man currently trying to totter over towards his head on the ground, wearing clothes common of either a bank teller or some other kind of office worker-

His head?

…

On the ground?

…

This man’s head was on the ground.

…

How much did I take?!

Finally, when the old man finally reached his head and plopped it back on his neck, Ernesto realized it wasn’t a head at all. It was a skull. A skull currently glaring daggers at him with eyeballs suspended in the inky blackness of his eye sockets. This was no drug trip. This wasn’t even a dream. Ernesto knew himself enough to know that there was no way he could dream up something so ugly or terrifying in his life.

“AAAAH!” Ernesto screamed and scooted himself back as far as he could on the bed, plastering himself to the wall. He continued to scream as the skeleton slowly walked towards his desk with a sigh.

“That’s more like it. This I can work with.” The skeleton said as he held up a clipboard.

“S-stay away! Stay away from me!”

“Please remain calm.” It said in a bored tone as it read from the clipboard. “You are safe now. Rejoice, for all of your worldly pains and ailments are a thing of the past.”

“Wh-what?!” Ernesto croaked out and continued to press against the wall, trying his all to get away from this skeleton. From this monster.

“We welcome you to your final resting place- heh, final, yeah right- where as long as you remain well remembered in the hearts of your loved ones you will live on far longer than you did in lif… Lif? Ay joder, they still haven’t fixed this typo?!”

Ernesto continued to gasp in terror as he stared transfixed at the skeleton before him. “Don’t come any closer!”

It rolled his eyes. “I’m not even moving.”

“Yes, you are! You’re creeping up to me right now!”

“No, you’re pushing against the wall and moving the gurney towards me, cabron!”

Ernesto paused at that and looked down, seeing that the bed was now two feet away from the wall and his hands were still pressed against it. “Oh.”

And then he looked up towards his hands.

…

“Oooohhh…..”

“There ya go.” The old skeleton chuckled hoarsely as he watched Ernesto stare at his new boney appendages in quiet, awed horror and went back to his clipboard. “Bienvenidos, Señor de la Cruz. Welcome to the Land of the Dead. Now, since the requirement to be here is to be dead, I must inform you that that’s what happened. You are now dead. My name is Chicharrón and I will be death counselor for this eve- and there you go, pat yourself down. Down the ribs, to the stomach- ay, no stomach!- and then the face. Every time, just like clockwork.”

Ernesto tore his hands away from pawing at his own cheekbones and glared at Chicharrón. “This is not funny!”

Chich smiled at him. “You know I always thought your bulbous chin was just fat, but nope,” and he smirked and tapped his own protruding chin with a pen. “You’re just as chiseled as I am.”

“How?!”

“How?… Ay, I don’t know. Genetics, I guess? I took after my Papá.”

“HOW DID I DIE?!”

As he cried out that choked, desperate plea Ernesto already knew deep down what had caused his far too early demise. The drugs. What else could it have been? What else could have affected him so suddenly during such an enthusiastic, triumphant performance. As he had belted out that last note, it was obvious his heart couldn’t take the strain. After gambling with his body for so long with copious amounts of drugs and sex, it had finally caught up with him. With one last song to his familia, he had perished right in front of his eyes. It was sudden, but strangely poetic. As tragic and as horrifying as he found his current predicament, he could not ask for a better way to go-

“Oh, that! According to reports, a giant two-ton bell fell from a stage fixture and flattened you into a tortilla.”

“………. What?”

“To save you some embarrassment I took the liberty of putting it down as ‘Acto de Dios’ as the cause of death.” Chich said, pointing it out on the file before placing it in Ernesto’s numb hands. “In hindsight maybe you should have sprung for papier-mâché props, eh?”

When Ernesto continued to just stare at the file in shocked silence, Chich made his way over to the telephone on his desk. “You’ve been dead for about three weeks now, but your body was just now buried. Guess they had to either build a fancy tomb for you or they had to finish scraping you all up. But it’s givin’ me plenty of time to finish the bulk of your paperwork. No deceased blood relatives on this side I’m afraid, they’ve all been forgotten, but I promised your goddaughter I’d call her the second you’d arrive.”

The mention of that word shocked Ernesto out of his stupor, and he glanced at Chich with wide eyes. “M-… M-my… goddaughter?” he whispered breathlessly.

“Uh-huh.”

“… Leticia… She’s dead.”

Chich quirked an eye ridge at him. “Like I said, it’s a requirement for being here.”

“Sh-she’s dead… I’m dead… Oh! Oh no, no!”

With a frustrated sigh Chich placed the phone back on the receiver and rose up to deal with de la Cruz’s breakdown. “Easy, amigo.”

“I can’t die. Not now.”

Chich snorted. “If you’re worried about missin’ out on your fans and fame, don’t worry. There’s plenty of people here just foamin’ at the mouth to see the great Ernesto de la Cruz. A lot of the office ladies here are actually jealous I was assigned to you. You’ll be fine-”

“Héctor…”

Chich blinked at the deep sorrow and pain that he heard in de la Cruz’s voice and frowned. “Your writing partner? Leticia’s Papá?”

Ernesto brought a hand over his mouth and, seemingly to overcome to hold himself any longer, collapsed back onto the dead to stare morosely up at the ceiling. “Héctor… I can’t die. I can’t be dead, not now.”

He had promised. He had promised years ago, as he had looked two little babies in the eyes, that he would never hurt Héctor again for as long as he lived. He had stood by his side throughout all of their successes, fame, riches, pain, loss, suffering. Anything to even try to make up for what he had tried to do.

He had promised.

“… I was going to tell you everything…”

#coco fanfiction #pixar coco #coco pixar #somos familia #hector rivera #mama imelda #mama coco #papa julio #ernesto de la cruz #chicharron #don't matter if you're a celebrity #chich ain't gonna sugar coat your death #deal with it #(•_•) ( •_•)>⌐■-■ (⌐■_■)

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