#I'll update this if anything else comes to mind. none of this make sense and that's ok. clearing my mind right now.

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (4) II a.putellas x sister!reader

prequel one two three

filling the void (4) II a.putellas x sister!reader

you looked up from your coffee as the front door opened, your sister walking through and pulling her headphones down around her neck clearly having gone for a run.

"bon dia hermana." she greeted as you only nodded, sipping on your coffee and breathing a small sigh of relief when alexia headed toward her bedroom.

when she returned a few minutes later her headphones were gone and she'd taken off her runners, padding her way into the kitchen to make herself a coffee and start breakfast.

as you sat at the bench drifting away into your own world alexia was stuck in her head just as much as you were, between worries for eli and worries for you her mind was a mess, only worsening after your confession last night.

a confession which you were praying to every and all god that alexia wouldn't bring up, already incredibly embarrassed about your outburst at the hospital you didn't think you'd handle having to confront anything else head on right now.

olga could sense the tension in the room before she even entered, needing to head off to madrid for a few days for work she'd spent most of this morning worrying about what might happen while she was away but alexia had been firm that it was important she still go.

"hola pequeña." the older girl greeted you as you sent her a smile, alexia glancing over her shoulder in surprise when you didn't make any comment on the use of the nickname, though really she should figure she'd lost the right to battle you about that anyway with her behavior lately.

"amor you called jona sí?" olga murmered, alexia nodding and stealing a kiss when you weren't looking as if you were still a child, the captain having taken the next two days off from training to make sure she was around with everything going on.

"two days, more if i need them." alexia murmured, olga smiling appreciatively knowing how hard it was for her girlfriend to take time off, her work ethic just as dangerous as it was admirable at times.

both girls turned their heads as you awkwardly cleared your throat, alexia wordlessly raising an eyebrow as your fingers drummed anxiously against the ceramic walls of the coffee mug clenched tightly in hand, the beverage itself now long gone luke warm.

"can you take me home please? i have work at nine." you asked quietly, alexia hesitating for a moment as if unsure of a response. "you don't want to come to the hospital?" your sister asked carefully, olgas hand moving to rest on top of hers on the counter.

"i have to work." you answered again, a little firmer this time. "hermana if you call your boss and explain i am sure that-" alexia tried again as you shook your head. "i have to work. i have my routine and i need to be home to follow it, all my things are there. alexia can you please take me home?" you stood abruptly, jaw clenched as you smoothed out the clothes you'd been wearing for the last near twelve hours.

as alexia opened her mouth her girlfriend gently tapped a finger against her knuckles in a silent warning. "i can take you on my way to the gym nena." olga stepped in with a smile as you nodded, alexia watching you hurry away to the bedroom to grab your phone and house keys.

"why does she not want to-" alexia frowned as her girlfriend shook her head, cutting her off. "leave it ale. you need what you need, and fresa needs what fresa needs." olga warned softly, hand tracing the catalan's sharp jawline which tensed but none the less the blonde nodded.

"do you want-" "i'll cook something when i get back before my flight mi vida, go see your mami." olga kissed her cheek, alexia sending her a small smile and pecking her lips a few times in silent appreciation before you returned.

"ready to go?"

~

"-no there's still no update, she's still not really awake yet and she's still on the ventilator." alexia explained with a sigh, on her way back to the car and on the phone for what felt like the hundredth time today, having swallowed the bullet and starting to reach out to close family members to let them know what happened.

"tía i promise as soon as she is awake and less high risk i will call you right away, for now she is not allowed many visitors. alba and i only saw her for a few minutes today and we were waiting for hours." alexia fished her keys out of her pocket and hummed, the rapid spanish on the other end of the line the same thing she'd heard all day.

"sí fresa is okay, alba and i are looking after her." alexia spoke on autopilot despite the way the words felt like ashes in her mouth, an incoming call having her rapidly finish up the conversation, abruptly hanging up and clicking accept.

"hola hermana." alexia sighed tiredly, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she paid for her parking and rolled her eyes at the high price but tapping her card none the less.

"were you picking fresa up from work?" alba asked, a slight worry to her tone as alexia frowned, stopping in her tracks. "no. she said you were picking her up, olga dropped her off this morning." alexia answered, hurrying to her car.

"well thats what i thought too. but i am here, the clinic is closed and she is not here, nobody is." alba replied, having left the hospital a couple of hours ago. "mierda. maybe she took the bus? i can go past mami's house now to check if she is there." alexia decided, promising to keep alba in the loop as she hurried out of the parking garage.

alexia wasn't sure to be relieved or annoyed when she pulled into the driveway and noticed the house lights were on, the blurred shadows of a figure moving behind the drawn curtains could be just faintly seen.

knocking on the front door a few times alexia tapped her foot, frowning when the door only opened a slight crack and your head poked out. "what?" you asked, a little bluntly as your sister seemed taken aback.

"alba went to pick you up from work and you were not there, we were worried." alexia started as you rolled your eyes, still refusing to open the door properly. "i finish early on mondays." you answered.

"oh, i didn't know." your sister frowned as you scoffed slightly. "why would you alexia? i'm surprised you both even know where i work." the older girls cheeks flushed a little with warmth.

"hermanita-" 'don't, please." you cut her off before she could speak, not in the mood for the conversation you knew she'd want to start right now.

"pack a bag then, you can stay with me again tonight." your sister forced a smile as you gave her an odd look as if she'd grown a second head. "why?" though when all you received in response was a knowing look, your eyes rolled once more.

"alexia, go home. i am fine here by myself, i have work tomorrow again and i already told you i have a routine." you sighed trying to close the door, frustration growing as the blondes foot wedged in the way.

"then i will stay here, i still have some things in my room." the girl persisted as you shook your head. "you don't need to, and i don't want you to." you replied sharply, though you winced as something thudded behind you.

"oh but you are fine by yourself? who is here with you." alexia's demeanor switched as you kicked at her foot and attempted to shove the door closed but to no avail as your sister easily overpowered your attempts and pushed it open, nearly sending you to the floor as she marched in like a mad woman.

"who is that!?"

you scrambled to your feet and quickly snatched up the four year old who went running toward your sister, sitting her on your hip as alexia stared at you wide eyed and in shock.

"whose niña is this?" alexia stammered out as you sighed and closed the front door. "this is sofía." you introduced, alexia's face softening a little at the shy gap toothed smile the small girl gave her.

"sof this is alexia, she's mi hermana." you introduced back, alexia giving a small wave and melting even further at the way sofía tucked her head into your neck. "since when are you shy pequeña?" you teased, a giggle sounding as you poked at her stomach.

"okay sof, how about you go watch your show while i finish dinner and talk to alexia. if you need anything you come get me or just yell out, vale?" you placed her back down as she immediately hid behind your leg, peeking out at alexia who gave her another wave.

"vale." the four year old chirped, tugging on the hem of your shorts as you bent down to her level, something whispered in your ear making you laugh and tickle her again as she giggled and raced back off to the living room.

"she's one of my friends daughters, her baby sitters sick so i offered to watch her." you explained to your sister who nodded, a little dumbfounded as she followed you back to the kitchen.

"have you been here alone with her all day?" alexia asked with an air of concern as you stirred whatever you were cooking, which your sister wouldn't deny smelt leagues better than anything she made herself these days.

"no, just a couple hours. elena does night school monday through wednesday to get her doctorate, whenever her baby sitter isn't free i watch sofía. normally i'd go to her house but with everyone going on she thought it might be better if i had sof here." you spoke quietly, glancing over your shoulder every couple of minutes to check in on the tiny brunette giggling away at a brightly coloured kids show on screen.

"you look after her by yourself?" alexia asked, shock hardly disguised as you rolled your eyes moving the sauce off the heat and huffing.

"yes alexia, believe it or not i can keep another human being alive for a few hours. i've had enough practice looking after myself!" you snapped, pausing to close your eyes and take a breath.

"i don't want to argue in front of her. i told you i'm fine, you've seen i'm okay, go home alexia, your home." you sighed, turning your back to her again after you'd peeked at the living room over the top of her head.

"fresa i also don't want to argue." your sister started a lot softer as you began to dish up dinner. "you know i want to fix this, alba and i want to fix things." alexia promised as you stayed silent, though before either one of you could speak a new voice piped up.

"you're really tall. way taller than my mami!" alexia jumped a little in surprise as sofía now stood next to her looking up in wonder. "is dinner nearly done?" she shot now next to you, tugging again on the hem of your shorts as you looked down with a soft smile.

"nearly. you hungry?" you questioned as the four year old nodded enthusiastically. "so hungry!" she groaned dramatically sagging against your leg as alexia smiled, suddenly slammed back into the memory of when she and alba would look after you at that age and you too would never leave her alone when she was trying to cook.

one memory in particular sat heavily with the captain as she watched you teasingly shove sofía away and take a test mouthful of the food, groaning loudly and happily as the girl hit your leg and huffed opening her mouth wanting to try for herself.

it was another night where both her parents were working night shifts and a sixteen year old alexia had been left to look after her sisters, alba hidden away in her room taking another one of her teenage angst my life is awful i hate everyone naps she so adored at that age.

alexia had been at training all afternoon, currently playing at Levante, and received the news from the coach that she wouldn't be starting this weekend which now made three weeks in a row.

it had put a dampen on the girls mood significantly, feeling quite lost as to what else she could do to prove herself. she already stayed back, arrived early, trained at home, worked on her skills in every way possible she could but still, nothing seemed to be good enough.

it hadn't helped that with eli only recently picking up night shifts you were still adjusting to the change in your routine, used to your papi not being around after dinner but missing your mami, which lead to you being even more clingier than usual.

"fresa!" alexia huffed as she turned and nearly stepped on you as you hovered by her feet after being sent away a few minutes ago, hugging her leg and refusing to let go no matter what.

"fresa please let go." alexia asked as nicely as she could manage, temper rapidly becoming shorter and shorter as you refused to listen to a single word she said.

first it had been refusing to take a bath, hiding under alexia's bed right against the wall where she couldn't reach you and even going as far as to bite the tip of her finger as she finally grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you out.

next it was trying to drown her in a tidal wave of soapy water when she finally got you into a bath, soaking the clothes she'd not long changed into after her own shower.

but still alexia managed to hold her tongue, speaking to you softly and encouragingly as eventually you sat down and allowed her to wash your hair.

but then you'd ran around half dressed and still wet for half an hour, finding endless amusement in the way your older sister just couldn't catch you, giggling and screaming with delight as alexia resisted the urge to kick you like a football when she finally scooped you up and forced you into the rest of your pyjamas, towel drying and braiding your hair so it was out of your face.

well braiding it as best she could as you'd squirmed and wriggled and kicked, whining that alexia didn't do it right and that it was too tight and then it was too loose and that only your mami knew how to do your hair right.

a full blown tantrum over your hair which took alexia a good half an hour to calm you down again had seemingly tired you out as your sister left you on the sofa with your favourite movie on.

alexia now an hour later than planned started on dinner, stress building as it rapidly neared your bed time and the brunette feared any more disruptions would only worsen your behaviour.

she'd gotten halfway done with dinner before you grew bored of your movie, alexia's attempts to wake up alba to help only resulting in a shoe flung at her head and a door slammed in her face as she resisted the urge to strangle the younger girl.

it seemed the cure to your boredom was to latch yourself firmly to your eldest sisters leg, curling around her like a monkey as no amount of shaking or begging had you letting go.

with all of that happening alexia had almost burned dinner, patience now a thin veil as she firmly yanked you off her leg and placed you down, shooing you away and promising dinner was almost done.

though of course you hadn't listened and immediately returned to hover under her feet now bringing a toy crane your papi had gifted you. and it was the small piece of plastic alexia had stepped on with barefeet, causing her to trip and a hand to shoot out to stop herself from falling.

that hand falling on the stove had meant another wave of pain rocked her body as she hissed and saw red, nearly tripping over you once again as you made noises with your mouth and sat on the floor between her legs refusing to move.

"why do you have to be such a pain! why can't you listen! i said to leave me be and you hover under my feet and trip me and do not go away! go away fresa!" alexia had lost it at this point, flying entirely of a dangerously unbalanced handle as she yelled.

but all of that anger drained from her body in a millisecond like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head as she watched your eyes well up with tears, crane clattering to the floor.

"no no no hey pequeña-" alexia cooed softly immediately dropping to her knees and reaching for you but you were gone, sprinting away as fast as your small legs could take you as alexia's heart broke and she stood, quickly pulling the pot off the stove and running after you.

she checked your room first in all the usual hiding places but came up with nothing, calling out for you and begging you to come out, apologizing over and over but even in her own room she couldn't find you, worries growing with each passing second.

alba's door now locked she knew that was out of contention, and her body flooded with relief as she stepped into her parents bedroom and caught sight of your leg in the mirror where you'd wedged yourself under their bed.

"fresita." alexia called out softly, her chest aching at the sniffles which could be heard from your hiding spot, the older girl sitting cross legged on the floor and begging you to come out with no luck.

you refused to say a word bar the tiny sniffles and hiccups that left you, sounds of pain which were much too large for a body as tiny as yours as alexia's own flooded with guilt for her outburst.

"hey fresa ven aquí. nena i am so so so sorry for yelling, i didn't mean it promesa. please come out, lo siento mucho hermanita please." alexia continued to beg, leaning down to peer at you under the bed as you caught her eye with another sniffle, rolling over so you were facing the wall and tucking into yourself even tighter.

with a sigh alexia ran a hand through her hair, jumping as a hand landed on her shoulder, surprised to see alba now stood behind her. she frowned a little as the younger girl sat beside her, pulling something from her pocket and placing it just under the bed.

"fresita." alba cooed, voice thick with sleep as you turned under the bed, spotting your favorite chocolate bar sat a few feet away.

as alba noticed your tiny hand reach out for it she placed a finger on top, pulling the treat a little further away as you frowned and wiggled closer, though again it was tugged just out of reach.

this game of cat and mouse continued for a while until the chocolate bar sat on the floor between your sisters and eventually your head peeked out from under the bed cautiously, both older girls smiling down at you.

you watched them for a moment as neither of them made any move to reach for you, aware one sudden movement could be all it took for you to reatreat again.

when they didn't move you slowly wiggled the rest of your body out, reaching for the chocolate and snatching it, both your sisters holding their breath but sighing quietly as you sat up and didn't seem inclined to return under the bed.

"i'll go finish dinner." alba murmured as you struggled to open the chocolate, alexia sending her a grateful smile as she disapeared out of the room.

"do you want me to open it pequeña?" alexia asked softly as you nodded, shuffling a littler closer as your sister took it from your outstretched palm and opened it, handing it back.

as you took a bite this time alexia reached for you, relieved when you put up no fight as she sat you in her lap, arms protectively wound around you and her face buried in your hair.

"tickles!" you huffed as alexia exhaled tiredly, wriggling around as your sister smiled and turned you in her lap, grabbing under your arms and standing you up so you were both eye to eye.

"fresa. i am very very very sorry for yelling and for if i scared you, i am not mad at you." alexia promised as you nodded and her thumb swiped at the tear tracks under your eyes with a pained smile.

"sorry i tripped you." you whispered out, looking down guiltily as alexia's finger tilted your chin back up so your eyes locked with hers once again.

"its okay hermanita, i know you did not mean to. you just miss mami, sí?" you nodded at that as alexia tugged you into a tight hug, peppering kisses along the crown of your forehead.

"i miss her too fresa, but we will get better at this, we will." alexia promised, cradling your head as you nodded into her chest. "but sometimes when mami is not here and i ask you to do something, i need you to do it, vale?" alexia murmered as you pulled your head back.

"vale. sorry ale." your bottom lip wobbled again as alexia was quick to catch the rogue tear with her finger, kissing your cheek repeatedly and carefully standing still with you held tightly in her arms.

"the kitchen can be dangerous sometimes fresa, especially sat on the floor or attached to my leg like a little monkey." alexia warned tickling at your stomach as you giggled and a wave of relief washed over her seeing you smile again.

"you're just my best friend ale and i don't know what to do without you." you mumbled tiredly with a yawn as your head slumped on her shoulder, fatigue clawing at you as it was now past your normal bed time as alexia melted and almost cried, exhaustion hitting her as well.

"oh mi precioso fresa you are my best friend too. forever and ever and ever nena, promesa."

"my mami stabs people! what do you do?" sofía was now stood back next to alexia, smiling up at her clearly no longer as shy as the older girl was flung into reality, blinking a few times as she adjusted and tuned back in.

"elena works with me at the clinic." you quickly clarified with a small amount of amusement seeing the mild horror flicker through the older girls eyes as she registered what sofía had said.

"i play football. do you like football?" your sister dropped down to the girls level, the two of them chattering away and before you could blink suddenly sofía was tugging her away to the living room with her.

you glanced over a few minutes later to see the two of them sat cross legged on the floor, alexia trying to teach sofía some sort of clapping game as you sighed and dished up a third bowl of the meal.

"dinner is done." you called out, ensuring the stove was fully off as within a blink there was an eager four year old climbing up into her chair as you chuckled and handed her a fork.

"you may as well stay, i know olga is the cook anyway." you gave your sister a small smile as alexia did her best not to let a grin overtake her face as she sat down across from the two of you and you slid her a fork.

"gracias fresa." alexia smiled as sofía paused mid mouthful to give you a curious look. "she calls you strawberry." the brunette pointed out as you nodded. "she does, thats my favourite fruit." you poked at her nose as she huffed and smacked your hand away.

"when she was your age all she wanted to eat was strawberries, for every single meal." alexia added on pulling a stupid face at the girl who giggled. "you can't do that silly!" sofía shook her head at you.

"can too, and strawberry milk." you grabbed a napkin and sofía's chin in your hand, wiping the copious amount of food which missed her mouth away as she whined and tried to push you off.

again alexia was hit with a wave of nostalgia, vivid memories of when she sat in your chair and you sat in sofia's, the smile fading from her face as her stomach churned with guilt, somewhat grateful for the small four year olds constant chatter meaning neither you or alexia really had to interact much.

"alexia do you have a football? can we play?" sofía grabbed your sisters hand once she was done helping you clear the table, hitting the catalan with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster not unlike you did all those years ago when you were determined to get your own way.

you caught her eye and the slight raise of her eyebrow, pausing for a moment before sending the blonde a curt nod. "i'll wash up." you declared, dismissing her attempts to offer help as sofía pulled impatiently on your sisters hand.

"sí, i have lots of footballs nena. ven conmigo and you can choose one!"

~

you'd been keeping a close eye on the pair as they raced and chased one another around the backyard, the summer evening sun starting to fade fast as you dried and put away the last plate.

you'd like if you said it hadn't shocked you a little to see your at times quite awkward sister be so open and care free with sofía, you having caught her earlier chase the small girl around the backyard pretending to be a football eating monster.

you'd be lying to yourself if similarly to alexia watching their interactions didn't bring up any thoughts or feelings toward your own childhood but in no state of mind to unpack that just yet you squashed it deep deep down and refused to acknowledge it.

you were stood on the back steps just about to call the two of them in now the sun was near fully set when it happened.

all it took was a misplaced step and suddenly sofía was falling head over heels, skinning her knee on the brick retaining wall of the small vegetable patch in the corner.

alexia's sisterly instincts kicked in as she raced across to comfort the now crying girl but you beat her to it, quickly lifting sofía up and into your arms as you bounced her up and down.

"hey hey hey nena its okay! you're okay. just a little fall sof, you're okay." you repeated over and over, your sister watching on a little dumbfounded as you hurried inside, alexia grabbing the football and following.

"hey you're a big girl right? big girls get skinned knees! its all a part of growing up sof." you sat her down on the kitchen counter as her cries turned to hiccups and she nodded.

"its okay to cry though nena, its good to cry sometimes! never let anyone tell you you're not allowed to. sometimes tears can be happy as well!" you kept the girl engaged as you cleaned her knee, poking at her stomach and making jokes, her giggling distracting her from the alcohol swab wiping away at the small graze.

"now, i need someone really really special to help me make a very important decision. anyone?" you asked, holding something behind your back and making a silly face, sofía nodding eagerly as her hand shot into the air.

"anyone? does anyone want to help?" you pretended not to notice, looking around as the four year old huffed and alexia smiled softly hovering nearby watching the interaction. "me! me me me!" sofía chanted impatiently as you sighed.

"i guess nobody wants to help!" you threw your hands up and turned to go as a small hand grabbed a fistful of your t-shirt and tugged. "oh! do you want to help me sof? why didn't you tell me!" you teased, jabbing playfully at her sides as she squealed and kicked at you.

"i will help." the girl nodded as you did the same. "okay. mickey mouse, or goofy?" you held up two different plasters as sofía's face lit up and she instantly pointed to the goofy one.

asking her to sit still for a moment you carefully applied the plaster over the small graze, kissing the top of her knee and standing up straight away. "all fixed! i think we do not need to cut this off...yet." you grabbed her foot and inspected her leg with a frown.

"hey!" the brunette gasped as you pulled a shocked face and ruffled her hair, picking her back up again. "bath and bed." you pinched her nose as she groaned but made no move to fight, going limp in your arms as you smiled and kissed her cheek.

"i'm just gonna..." you jolted a little admittedly having forgotten alexia was still here as you noticed her, your sister nodding in understanding.

"don't go yet! i wanna say goodnight." sofía yelled to alexia over your shoulder as the girl promised she wouldn't and took a seat on the sofa, exhaling as she did so, head swamped with a tidal wave of memories, only worsened as she stared around at her childhood home.

alexia hadn't realised how long she'd been trapped in her own mind but what felt like mere seconds later a body was latched to her leg and you were waiting in the hallway, arms crossed and a large wet patch on your shirt where the four year old had gotten a little too enthusiastic with the plastic duck she always had with her.

"buenas noches alexia. it was fun playing with you!" sofía smiled a little more tiredly now, climbing onto the sofa and hugging the older girl tightly who perhaps clung on a second or so too long, flashes of when it was you hugging her goodnight still lingering at the back of her mind.

"it was very nice to meet you nena, remember drive through!" your sister pretended to kick a ball as sofía giggled and copied the action before waving and racing back to your side as the two of you disappeared again.

when you returned around fifteen minutes later now changed into dry clothes and the four year old sleeping peacefully in your bed it wasn't a surprise to see alexia curled up on the corner of the lounge watching something.

you didn't say anything at first as you settled at the opposite end, a somewhat uncomfortable unspoken tension filling the gap between the two of you.

"i assume you are staying the night then." you spoke up first, knowing alexia well enough that when she had her mind set on something it was near impossible to change it.

"sí." your sister confirmed as you gave a small nod. "you are very good with her." the blonde commented next, throwing you a small look as your own eyes stayed fixated on the tv.

"as kids go she's pretty easy." you gave a shrug, tucking your knees up to your chest. "everything you do with her, i used to do with you." and there it was.

"alexia-" you started with a small sigh. "no, fresa i know. we don't need to speak about it, i just wanted to say it. she reminds me a lot of you is all, and i miss it sometimes." alexia admitted, nervous that with one wrong word it might send you recoiling into yourself and off to your room, worsening things.

a beat of silence paused and alexia took that as a silent cue you were done, turning her head back toward the tv.

"sometimes i miss it too."

you'd spoken so quietly you weren't even sure if your sister had heard you, grateful that if she did she chose not to comment on it, the two of you sitting in silence that albeit awkward was a little less tense watching television.

alexia looked up from where she was getting some water in the kitchen at a soft knock at the door, watching you hurry over to pull it open, an unfamiliar girl just visible through the window as alexia leaned against the counter.

no words were exchanged as you lead the girl inside and the two of you returned a moment later, sofia back in her mothers arms as the girl who didn't look much older than twenty two or three loaded her into a carseat.

when she returned to speak with you alexia hadn't meant to eavesdrop and overhear, she really hadn't.

"thank you so so much for this chica, she adores you and i appreciate you." elena sighed pulling you into a hug as you assured it was no problem and you were always happy to help out if needed.

"please don't give me that look." you sighed after you told her you'd see her at work tomorrow. "mateo said you could have the whole week off and with pay! why are you working?" elena told you off firmly but not unkindly.

"i like working." you justified with a shrug, the older girl not buying it as she raised an eyebrow and you deflated a little. "i can't see her like that el, i can't." you whispered out, voice on the cusp of cracking as alexia's eyebrows furrowed from where she stood within earshot.

"she's your mami amiga she would want you there with your sisters, supporting each other through this. not stabbing grumpy old men with low iron!" elena teased with a soft smile as you barely cracked one of your own.

"your sisters are trying, sí? let them try, i am sure that they love you very much." elena promised as alexia was taken aback at her words, the jealousy which had been simmering at the surface of the comfort this stranger was providing you instead of her, easing a little.

"i know. but i can't see her like that, i can't." you repeated with a shake of your head. "why?" elena asked softly, a hand sat on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze as you shook your head.

"you can talk to me about anything chica, you know this. we all love you and are here for anything you need!" your friend encouraged gently, alexia's grip on her glass tightening as she heard the unmistakable sound of you choking back a slight sob before the next words you whispered shattered her heart completely.

"because the last time someone i loved when into hospital, he never came back."

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[desiderio-dixon]

Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter 3 : Hand Me Downs

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : Glenn returns from Atlanta, Daryl returns from hunting, and all of you leave on a rescue mission for Merle.

Chapter warnings : language, violence, gore, general twd themes

Word count : 3.8k

A/N : This one wasn't proof-read so if anyone noticed any mistakes please lmk! next update may be a little slower because closing in on the process of adopting a puppy!

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Emerging from your tent, you head for Dale immediately. The noise is only growing closer and louder, and everyone is grouped around Dale. The old man looks through his binoculars, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'll be damned." Dale mutters.

"What is it?" Amy pushes impatiently.

"A stolen car is my guess."

The bright red sports car pulls into the quarry, and your heart leaps in your chest when you spy the driver. While everyone around panics about the noise, or their still-missing friends, your relief outweighs anything else. You leap onto Glenn, hugging him tight while he attempts to calm Amy. Paying it no mind, you only focus on the way his arms circle around your back to return the hug. It only lasts a couple seconds before he's stepping back to pop the hood for Shane. It's enough, though.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?" Amy sputters, wide eyed and frantic.

"Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Typically you wouldn't care that anything had happened to Merle. You'd even go as far to say, you'd be downright relieved. You wouldn't wish death on anyone, but maybe you'd wish that Merle would somehow be teleported a good 200 miles away from you. But, that relief was only there for a split second. Instead, you felt a deep sense of worry for Daryl.

You didn't know him much at all, hell, he's spoken no more than five sentences to you the entire time you'd known him. None of those sentences were ever delivered in a particularly friendly manner, but just this morning he had helped you. You knew he felt like an outsider, and it seemed the only person in the group he liked was his brother.

Not only were you worried he'd fall into some form of depression if Merle was dead, but you were also worried he'd leave. Daryl provided so much to your group, and whether they realized it or not, everyone owed a lot to him.

You break free of your thoughts just in time to hear Dale scolding Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

You know Glenn looks up to Dale, can see his worry of disappointing him. "Sorry," Glenn says, staring at his feet. Then, he looks up with a grin. "Got a cool car." That makes you let out a huff of laughter. It is a pretty cool car.

Your attention is stolen away by the sound of tires crunching over gravel, the van pulling in behind the red dodge charger. Andrea is the first to hop out, running to Amy. Morales, T-dog, and Jacqui all spill out after her. Morales greets his wife and children before coming over to give Dale a hug. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure." Dale laughs.

"How'd y'all get out of there, anyway?" Shane asks, hands on his hips. The classic authoritarian stance he always seems to don.

From beside you, Glenn speaks up. "New guy." He glances to the van. "He got us out." New guy? It's been a while since your group has welcomed a new addition.

Nothing could prepare you for the reaction to the man who steps out of the van. Lori and Shane frozen, absolutely shellshocked. Carl, running and screaming for his father.

Lori recovers after a moment, falling into her husband's awaiting arms. Shane stays where he is, no hint of a smile on his face. You catch him fake one when Rick looks his way. It's not hard to guess what's happening. "Trouble in apocalyptic paradise for Shane and Lori." You whisper to Glenn, who only looks down at his shoes and shakes his head in sardonic amusement.

You get along well enough with Lori, if nothing else but for the simple fact that you adore her son. She's never done anything to make you think less of her, and you really don't blame her for her obvious affair with Shane. She'd told the story to you once or twice. Husband gets shot on the job, comatose, shit hits the fan, husband's best friend takes care of her and her son. And of course, she'd told you the part where Shane had listened for a heartbeat. There was none. Or so it was said.

Who can blame a grieving widow, lost in this shit-storm of a world for seeking comfort in a fling with the man she believes is her savior?

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You sit down by the unlit firepit with T-dog and Glenn. T-dog gnaws on a piece of jerky, eyes downcast. "Daryl's not gonna be happy," You start. No one has filled you in exactly on what happened, just that Merle was left chained on the roof. Alive but trapped. "But I'm sure he'll understand to some degree. He's gotta be more tired of his brother than any of us." You joke. T-dog just shakes his head, obviously guilty.

"He was out of control. Rick did the right thing." Glenn tells you. You hum in response, gaze wandering to where Rick wanders around camp, acquainting himself with all it's residents. The deputy must feel your eyes on him, because when he's done shaking Ed's hand, he heads for you. He's all confident strides, a sureness you haven't seen in anyone since the end of the world. You guess it's the effect of finding your wife and child in such unlikely circumstances.

He stops in front of you, hand extended and a smile more full of happiness than you've seen in two months. "Rick Grimes." He introduces.

You return his smile, clasping his hand. "Trust me, I already knew your name. Carl's told me all about how cool his daddy is." He laughs, looking down in a sort of bashful manner. You tell him your name, and he repeats it, nodding to himself.

"Yeah," He drawls. "Turns out I already knew yours, too. Glenn told me you know the city like the back of your hand." You nod. You'd lived in Atlanta before the turn, and you'd only become even more informed on it given the various runs you'd been on.

"Oh yeah. Normally I would've been there, being the one to save Glenn's ass. Glad you were there to fill my shoes." You tease, nudging Glenn with your shoulder. He pushes you back gently, sputtering out defenses.

When you glance back to Rick, he's laughing too.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

After the sun had gone to sleep, and the stars brought a bitter chill to the air, everyone gathered around the firepit. Rick has Lori and Carl tucked into his side as he recalls the chain of events leading him back to them. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all of those things but, disoriented comes closest."

It must be strange to just wake up in a world like this. At least you had seen things progress. Heard the stories of cannibals on the radio, seen the news clips of deathly beings attacking civilians, watched the hospitals become overrun and the system fall apart. You'd seen the bombs drop, too.

"Words can be meager things, sometimes they fall short." Dale pipes up beside you. You look at Glenn, his face illuminated in a warm glow from the fire. Looking at him lights a sense of comfort and safety within you. He may be young, awkward and clunky, but he saved you.

The conversation goes on, focus almost entirely on Rick. When he turns to Shane, a sincerity to his eyes, you feel almost guilty. As if you are the one harboring the secret of Lori and Shane's affair. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane." You have to suppress a sigh at his words. "I can't begin to express it."

"There goes those words falling short again." Dale quips. You can't help but agree. It's not your business, but you feel that words can't begin to express how convoluted the relationship between those three will end up being. How long can you keep secrets from a cop?

Shane leaves shortly after to argue with Ed. Not the first time the drunken man had insisted he needed a larger fire. You keep an eye from your spot, watching Carol and Sophia closely. You don't like Shane, but you know he'd use any excuse to beat on Ed. There's no complaints to be had from you if an altercation between the two started; as long as Carol and Sophia are safe and away from the action.

Somewhat unfortunately, the situation seems to resolve, Shane coming back to the main firepit. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says once Shane's situated. This time, your sigh does spill out. You weren't a part of the Atlanta group, and yet, all you've been thinking about since they got back was Daryl Dixon.

"I'll tell him," T-dog offers. "I dropped the key, it's on me."

Rick shakes his head. "I cuffed him." You see Glenn shaking his leg from beside you, glancing between T-dog and Rick beyond the fire.

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Ah, so that's why he was so nervous.

"I really don't think Daryl is like Merle," You say, unsure why you feel the need to defend him. Just because he brought Carol to you? "At least not like that." There were definitely other ways Daryl was like Merle. Their brash language, their unkempt demeanor, and perhaps their general strength and hunting skill. Still, Daryl didn't strike you as a racist.

The conversation goes on, discussing what to tell Daryl. Who to take blame, whether to lie or be honest.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock." T-dog rambles, the fire crackling loudly as a backtrack to his words. "My point– Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

His confirmation that Merle is alive ends the discussion for the night, the group trickles off into their respective tents, and the fire flickers out. Glenn stands from beside you, announcing his departure. You watch him as he leaves, a coldness taking over in his absence.

You stay behind for a moment, no one left at the fire. A few feet away, Shane sits atop the RV. Paying him no mind, you lean back and stare at the sky. It's moments like these that you allow yourself to remember your best friend; allow yourself to picture her face among the stars. You take a deep breath, feeling it stretch your lungs, before breathing it out into the chilly night air. You imagine it takes the weight in your heart with it. But when you're done, standing up and heading to your tent, your chest feels just as heavy.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl finishes stringing up cans around the small clearing. It's not much, but it's some form of protection. He lies in the makeshift bed–his bag as a pillow and a t-shirt as a mattress. The trip hadn't been as productive thus far as he'd hoped, only a string of squirrels lay beside him. He'll get up before the sun, and keep going until he finds something of value he decides.

He takes comfort in staring at the night sky. It's where he feels he belongs. Even before the end of the world, he'd spent most nights sleeping outside in nature. It was always safer. In some way, he does find himself feeling more exposed without the knowledge that there are people around him. At the quarry, there's always someone keeping watch. He couldn't trust Merle to keep sober to watch his back.

But soon enough, it'll be back to just him and Merle. He'll have to deal with it.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You, Carol, and Lori are on laundry duty this morning. Carol scrubs Rick's sherrif uniform and something about it almost makes you giggle. Wearing a police uniform in the apocalypse is nothing short of something from a comic book.

You have Glenn's hat, trying to spot clean little dried blood stains. "I wish peroxide wasn't as valuable," You comment, scrubbing with all your might on a particularly stubborn stain. "Used to wash out blood like magic." Carol hums, agreeing. Lori stays silent, working on her own laundry with a faraway look.

"Everything okay with you and Rick?" Carol asks, touching Lori's arm gently with a soapy hand. Lori nearly jumps out of her skin, water splashing from her basin. Suds fly through the air, and to your great displeasure, a splotch of soap lands right in your eye.

"Ow, shit!" You cry, dropping Glenn's hat and covering your eye. Lori frantically apologizes.

Due to your momentary loss of vision, you don't notice Glenn approaching you until he's calling out. "Hey, you okay? Let me see," He says. You tilt your head up, trying your best to open your eye. He takes the corner of his shirt and lifts it, using it to gently brush soap away from your eye.

His care for you makes you warm. It feels good to know someone cares. You rapidly blink to clear the remnants of soap, before flashing him a radiant smile. "Thanks." You breathe.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Later, you stand next to Glenn, sharing in his grief. Dale and Jim are under the hood of the Dodge Charger, yanking out parts and pieces. Glenn's hands are on his head, brows furrowed in sadness. You pat him on the back. "We'll find another."

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale calls. Glenn looks down at his feet and you giggle, much to his chagrin.

Before you know it, Rick has approached you, a similar look of amusement on his face. "I thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles.

"Maybe we'll steal another one someday." Rick echoes your earlier sentiment. He wanders off, likely to find Lori.

"You replacing me with officer friendly?" You joke, nudging Glenn. He exhales through his nose, a small grin on his face.

"I don't know who makes fun of me more." He whines. You roll your eyes, reaching up to steal his hat off his head. Placing it on top your own, you turn and run, laughing while he chases you.

The chase gets cut short by a chorus of screams. You and Glenn freeze in unison, wide eyes meeting each other before you both dash. You hear Carl and Sophia's distinct voices calling out for their mothers.

You run as fast as your feet can carry you, Glenn's hat discarded still on your head. The children are at the edge of the forest, and as the adults arrive, they all run right into their parents arms. Running into the forest behind them, you all find the culprit. A deer, now dead, with a walker feasting on its innards. Your eyes are drawn to the various arrows sticking out of it.

The men jump into action, beating the walker with various objects. It reminds you of prison beatings in movies; ugly, uncoordinated, and inefficient. When they finish, the grunts and huffs silenced, you point to the arrows. "Daryl." You simply offer.

Shane nods, but otherwise they seem to ignore you. "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale says, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the tree branches start to move and dried leaves crunch under the weight of something. You all gear up to fight another walker, when Daryl Dixon comes stumbling out of the woods. There's a level of relief to seeing him, knowing that your group didn't lose both their prize hunters in one fell swoop. But there's also a level of dread, a sinking weight in your stomach when you think of the news that needs delivering.

You don't get to think on it long, for Daryl interrupts your thoughts with an outburst. "Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this–" He starts kicking the walker. "–filthy, disease-bearin', motherless, poxy bastard!" You can't help but laugh. You really don't mean to, don't want him to think you're mocking him. The giggles just tumble out one-by-one, unstoppable in their path.

Everyone pauses to look at you, varying degrees of concern and confusion, but you just can't stop laughing. Daryl narrows his eyes at you, "This funny to ya?" You can't answer through your huffs, so Daryl just scoffs, turning his attention back to the walker. It receives one more swift kick to the side.

Dale extends his arm in a notion to stop. "Calm down, son. That's not helping." You know it from the moment it leaves his lips that he'll receive an earful for this. It simply doesn't work to tell a man like Daryl to 'calm down'.

Just as expected, Dale receives the opposite of the intended reaction. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to 'on golden pond'?" You, for one, think Dale's bucket hat is very stylish, and you'd let him know that on multiple occasions.

"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think? Do ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He seems genuine, chewing on his thumb and contemplating with a furrowed brow.

"I would not risk that." Shane says. Daryl sighs, disappointment evident.

"That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl moves to leave, and you start to follow behind him.

Suddenly, the decapitated walkers head breathes life once more, snapping it's teeth and groaning. Daryl stops in his tracks, almost making you face-plant right into his back. "Come on, people. What the hell?" He readies his crossbow, shooting the decaying head right between the eyes.

"It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl makes it back to the camp first, tossing his string of squirrels by the firepit. "Merle! Get yer ugly ass out here, got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" He does find it strange that Merle doesn't immediately respond, knowing how loose Merle's jaw is.

Shane's voice, his tone, sends a spiral of uncertainty through him. "Daryl, just slow up a bit, need to talk to you."

Daryl whips around to face Shane. "About what?" Shane places his hands over his belt buckle, eyes darting away from Daryl.

"About Merle. There was a–There was a problem in Atlanta." Daryl let's the words sink in, nodding slowly. He feels that all too familiar lump in his throat, panic digging her claws into his esophagus.

"He dead?" He thinks he must be. What else could Shane be referring to?

"We're not sure." Shane says. That lights a fire in Daryl. Uncertainty has never been his friend. Things didn't feel real without confirmation.

"He either is or he ain't!"

Rick approaches, hand out as if Daryl was some rabid animal. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?" Daryl snaps, looking this new guy up and down. He looks past him, to everyone at camp, who seems to not bat an eye at the newcomer. The hell did he miss?

"Rick Grimes." The confidence that Rick delivers his name in only makes Daryl more angry.

Daryl huffs, stepping closer to Rick, chest puffed. "Rick grimes, you got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal." Rick tilts his head, locking eyes with Daryl. "He's still there."

Daryl almost laughs, a bitter, angry laugh at the absurdity. "Hold on. Let me process this." He gestures to his head. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?" He yells.

"Yeah." Next thing Daryl knows, he's pulled his knife and Shane has him in a chokehold.

"You'd best let me go!" He screeches, thrashing wildly.

Shane only seems to tighten his grip. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke hold's illegal."

Shane has an air of amusement in his tone when he responds, but nothings funny to Daryl right now. "You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

Rick crouches down to look Daryl in his eye. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Its not Rick's request, or his condescending tone that causes Daryl to agree. It's not Shane's grip either. It's when he looks behind them, to you.

You, with your eyes full of not fear or worry, but of sympathy. It makes shame burn in him, enveloping his body in an overwhelming and uncomfortable warmth. He feels your eyes on him and he feels your pity and it makes him sick. He needs out. If he has to have a peaceful conversation with Rick to get away from your piercing eyes, then so be it.

Imagine Daryl's thrill when Rick proposes you and Glenn to join in the rescue mission for Merle. He'd said something about you and Glenn knowing the city, needing you to retrieve a bag of guns. Daryl narrows his eyes at you and Glenn when you pack into the back of the van. You've still got the kid's hat on, and something about that makes him uncomfortable. Who has time for love in this world?

The ride is mostly silent, some jokes exchanged between you, Glenn, and T-dog. Nothing Daryl pays much attention to. He'd rather go get his brother himself. Eventually Glenn stops the van. "We walk from here."

On the walk, Daryl's heart speeds up the closer he gets to the department store. He's antsy, just wants to see his brother, dead or alive. You seem to notice, speeding your steps a bit to walk in pace with him. "I'm sure he's okay. You Dixons are tough." Daryl just scoffs, refusing to meet your eye.

Each step up to the roof sends a new wave of nerves through his stomach, so he takes them two at a time. T-dog cuts through the padlock and Daryl brushes past him onto the roof. "Merle!" And then he sees it. Grey and decaying, bloody and lifeless. It reminds Daryl of everything else Merle has left for him.

All the ripped old flannels, the half drank beers, hell, even the aged porno mags with the ink smeared and half the pages falling out. Merle never left anything pleasant for Daryl.

Though, while sobbing over Merle's dismembered hand, he has to say that this is the worst hand me down of all.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

taglist(open): @celtic-crossbow

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #dbtd #the walking dead #twd imagine #twd fanfiction #twd daryl

[babymarvelbunny]

Threads of Redemption Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords and the dissolution of the Avengers, Bucky finds himself still haunted by his past as the winter soldier. He remains on the run, torn between the desire to redeem himself and the fear of hurting others. Y/N is a skilled S.H.I.E.L.D. agent tasked with locating Bucky and bringing him back to the Avengers compound.

Warnings: none? I think??

Word Count: 1460

A/N: Before yall read this please go read pt. 1, I added the link, hopefully, it works. if not it should be the last post on my page. I'll do a part 3 if this gets enough attention, I don't wanna be writing a series if no one reading it lmao, but I will be uploading more :) (not proof read whatsoever, praying it makes sense lmao)

As you boarded the plane later that night, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The thought of meeting Bucky Barnes, a legendary figure known for his heroic acts during World War II and then as the Winter Soldier, both thrilled and intimidated you. However, your determination to help Steve and bring Bucky back overpowered any doubts you had.

During the flight, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something significant was about to happen. The weight of the mission weighed heavily on your mind. You decided to take a nap, trying to conserve your energy for the upcoming task ahead.

When you landed in Vancouver, you followed Steve's instructions and found the bag he mentioned hidden in a bathroom stall. You retrieved the burner phone and the car keys, feeling a little like a spy on a covert mission. You took a moment to call Steve, updating him on your arrival and reassuring him that you were ready to proceed.

As you drove toward the small town where Bucky was supposedly spotted, you couldn't help but think about the super soldier himself. You knew his history, his struggles, and the brainwashing he endured as the Winter Soldier. You wondered how you could possibly convince him to come back with you, especially when he had evaded everyone else, including Steve.

Arriving in the town, you checked out the safe house Steve had provided. It was a modest, inconspicuous place, perfect for lying low. You decided to rest for a few hours before starting your search for Bucky in the morning.

The next day, you set out to gather any information about Bucky's whereabouts. You talked to locals, showing them a picture of him discreetly to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. People seemed wary, reluctant to share any information. It was clear that Bucky had left an impression on this small community, and they weren't willing to betray him.

As the days passed, you remained persistent, following every lead, no matter how small. You sensed that someone was watching you, monitoring your every move. It was likely that Bucky knew someone was after him, and he was staying one step ahead.

One evening, as you returned to the safe house, you noticed a figure waiting outside. Your instincts kicked in, and you approached cautiously, prepared for anything. To your surprise, it was Natasha standing there.

"Nat! What are you doing here?" You were relieved to see her, knowing that her skills and experience could be valuable to you on the mission.

"I've been keeping an eye on you. Steve was concerned about sending you alone, so he asked me to watch your back," she said with a reassuring smile.

"Thank goodness. I could use some backup," you admitted, feeling relieved to have Natasha by your side.

The two of you formed a plan together, combining your resources and skills to track down Bucky. Natasha's expertise in espionage and infiltration, coupled with your combat and investigative skills, made for a formidable team.

As days turned into weeks, the chase intensified, leading you from one location to another, following any lead, no matter how faint. Along the way, you encountered dangerous situations, faced adversaries, and even discovered remnants of Bucky's past, which provided valuable insight into his state of mind.

As you got closer to Bucky, you couldn't help but empathize with him. The burden he carried, the remorse he felt for his actions as the Winter Soldier weighed heavily on his conscience. It became clear that convincing him to return was not just a matter of force but one of understanding and compassion.

Finally, after an intense cat-and-mouse game, you found Bucky in an isolated cabin deep in the wilderness. As you cautiously approached him, you could sense his hesitancy, his guard up. But you also saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a spark of humanity that you couldn't ignore.

You shared Steve's message with Bucky, appealing to his sense of loyalty and the possibility of redemption. You acknowledged his past, the pain he endured, and the person he could become if he chose a different path. Natasha's presence also played a significant role, her bond with Steve and her own transformation from an assassin to an Avenger resonated with Bucky.

"Bucky please, I know you don't want to live this life, a lonely life of living in the woods cutting off everyone around you. Come back with us, I promise things will be different, Steve is waiting for you." You never broke eye contact with him, fearing that if you took your eyes off him for even a second he'd flee and you'd never see him again.

"I can't, no one trusts me after what I've done, I mean why would they? the things I've done.. I mean they're unforgivable. You guys should just leave me here. I'm happy being alone." You could tell that Bucky didn't want to be alone he just didn't want to accept anyone's help. You sighed and glanced at Nat for help.

"Bucky no one blames you for what happened in the past, we can overcome those things and build you a better reputation. People just need to see the real you, the caring Bucky that Steve told us so much about." Nat always knew the right thing to say, Bucky looked at the ground as his shoulders hunched down and he fell to his knees.

You were stuck in the same spot you started in, not sure whether you should run over and help him or give him his privacy, Nat looked over at you and signaled you to go over. It took you a brief moment to gain the courage to walk over to him but once you did you could hear the soft sniffles and light breathing coming from him. He was crying. The Winter Soldier was crying right in front of your eyes, you never thought you'd see the day.

"Hey Buck, come back to the safe house with us, you can stay with us for the night and we'll leave for the compound in the morning, you should rest. I'm so sorry that you've had to go through this but we're here now, the Avengers are like family and Steve can't wait to see you." Bucky looked up at you and nodded his head, he looked utterly defeated, too tired and exhausted to speak.

You, Natasha, and Bucky returned to the safe house. You set up the bed for Bucky and decided that you and Nat could take turns sleeping on the couch. After leaving Bucky you returned back to the living room and plopped down onto the couch.

"I can't believe we finally did it, it feels like a dream. I can't wait to tell Cap he's gonna be excited!" You exclaimed while looking for your burner phone that Steve gave you months ago.

"Don't worry about it kid, I told him already, he's already making up a room for Bucky at the compound. I didn't think about waiting for you to tell him, sorry about that. But hey, on the plus side he did say he was proud of you, who knows, maybe you'll even get promoted." Nat said while getting comfortable on the couch. "You mind if I sleep first? I'm exhausted?" She asked while her eyes drifted shut. You didn't get the chance to reply before she was letting out soft snores.

And so, Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, returned with you and Natasha to the Avengers' headquarters. The reunion with Steve was both emotional and heartwarming. You could see the weight lifted off his shoulders, knowing that his friend was back and that he hadn't given up on him.

"Buck you have no idea how much I've missed you, you should've never run off, I lost you once I can't do it again." Steve's eyes started to tear up as he hugged his best friend.

Bucky hugged Steve in a tight grip, almost as if he couldn't believe he was actually here hugging his best friend. "I'm here now Steve, and I'm not going anywhere." Bucky's eyes were squished shut as he held onto Steve.

Little did you know that this was just the beginning of a series of extraordinary adventures that awaited you as a vital member of the Avengers team. The journey ahead was filled with challenges, victories, and personal growth, but you were ready for whatever came your way, thanks to the trust and support of your newfound family.

And so, the next chapter of your life as a superhero and an Avenger began, as you faced the ever-changing world, always ready to protect and serve, no matter the odds.

The End... or rather, the Beginning.

#stucky #stucky smut #stucky x reader #bucky smut #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki smut #loki #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #infinity war #avengers endgame #mcu loki #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #sam wilson #the winter soldier #steve rogers #the avengers #kate x yelena

[dreamlink3d]

i wish the stuff i'm working on rn was like. in any way, shape,or form presentable yet cuz like it is all just a lot of spreadsheet work and planning documents, but things are moving! i'm finishing a lot of work to get wisps set up properly this time. you know what actually i'll talk a little bit about it in the read more bc it's all infodump and really technically overbearing but for the nerds who keep up with this blog a lot it might be interesting so 👀

update: oh this is LONG long. whatever i'm keeping it read if you want like peak infodump abt the recruitable characters' role in the game atm.

ok ok ok so like as of the last time i worked on this (like last year i mean) the battling and wisp uniqueness were both really understated and this was on purpose! i wanted battling to be something the player is introduced to later than usual and it's not required at all, bc it's not even your intended goal -- this much is still true, but i wanted it to have more prominence and depth, so i'm elaborating on team building now.

the main thing i'm working out now is that i want each individual wisp (the animal recruitable characters) to function almost like a miniature pokemon and be used to do little roguelike deck-building activities to clear the main progression story thing of the game. before, each wisp technically had a species and catalog wing + 2 abilities, but none of those did anything for battling. my long term idea was that the abilities would have in-battle functionality, but at most that's still like 20ish moves across an at-the-time 400 character roster-- not good enough imo.

so! now what i've been mainly doing is finally embracing the battle system and leaning in on it more. each wisp now is gonna get a couple of things that'll modify each of their stats a little and give them each a couple of "moves." that way every character IN THEORY should play differently in some way.

first up is species, which i actually did the full stat spread for already. it's just simple single-digit buff/nerfs to individual rpg maker stats (hp, mp, atk, def, so on and so forth) but it gives each one a base layer of uniqueness. i want to give each species a dedicated move that is thus attached to each wisp.

second up is catalog wing, this follows the same rule but i haven't done stat changes yet. i also have a little list of like parameters / etc. that i can assign, and i definitely want to give some of those to each of these groups, so that wisps can be even more specific. catalog wing is just colors, and as such i think it makes sense for each to get an associated move as well.

third up are the big new thing. i've been kinda inspired by a video i saw recently of a "pokemon but i added 50 types" mod and i kinda wondered about adding small modifier labels to wisps. almost like pokemon types, but not as type-intensive, and originally i wanted them to be cosmetic. however, i'm realizing i can give them small tweaks as well (literally like +1 something and -1 something else, and that's it) and it'll still have a pretty notable impact on wisp variety. each wisp gets 3 types and i'm currently sorting out the list but it's a little silly, i want to keep it lighthearted and not do it completely seriously in the way pokemon does. you'll see when it comes out but i think it's rather fun. these i would also like to make moves for, but we'll see.

last up are the abilities. i don't think these are gonna have any stat changes, but will have the passive parameters in some cases (double currency/item drops comes to mind.) these already have existed in the game for a long time, and each wisp gets 2. they're how you interact with the dreamscape overworld itself, and solve puzzles in the main progression story thing (which i am referring to this way bc i don't wanna reveal it completely yet!) they're obviously gonna have moves associated with them.

i'm kinda worried abt doing stat stuff bc like obviously an unbalanced game can be a complete mess, but i also think having a wide variety of options that range in power levels (and combine to get even crazier) is like half of the appeal of these teambuilders? like taking the worst possible team and sweeping, or doing the opposite and watching the carnage. i honestly just wanna have fun with it bc i think this is the thing this project really needs to be entertaining in long stretches. the game currently is about gathering wisps and using them to progress but like, without battling it's kinda very thin gameplay wise? dream exploration is still like the big essential part-- i want battling to stay optional and available to be underexplored as each player decides-- but i do think that at least giving players the tools to explore further in that way will go a long way.

i don't know how to end this other than to say i'll probably make more of these kinds of posts in the future? i'm making a lot of scattered smaller progress on this in various areas, mostly working on dreamscape overhauls and wisp categorization but like. i've been retooling the game to have a bit more characters and story than originally intended. finally leaving my burnout phase has led me to really retool this project from the inside out, and i can't wait to share more honestly. i won't be speaking on a release date or even a window, because i don't think it'll be ready before like 2025 at this rate. sucks bc it means 5 year dev cycle (on top of aspects of this going back as far as 2016, or 2012 depending on what you count) but like hey! it's still churning and i'm still chipping away at it. thank you for reading <3

#devlog #this is a LONG long post just so you are aware like take that shit seriously it is not short at all

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XXX

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: misogyny, period talk, delusions, some slight medical talk, mentions of infidelity, baby stuff. Y/N does not like Naoya. 😬 And a certain someone is more... annoying than usual. Be prepared.

A/N: nothing much except look at the title lmao, I hope it doesn't get flagged or something.

Oh! I guess there is something I need to say lol. My birthday is coming up, and since I want to make the best of it hehe, the next update will be postponed to the week after! Meaning a new chapter will be posted on June 25! 🤭❤️ Thank you so much for your patience and support 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'll be announcing it throughout the week either way.

Without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 31

Ao3 link.

“—It’s expected that this upcoming winter will be one of the harshest ones we’ve seen in years. Public safety has sent out a statement requesting civilians to prepare accordingly by sav—”

Naoya reaches over to the power button by the dashboard and then turns off the radio.

He thought that by filling the ever-growing uncomfortable silence between the two with the voice of the broadcaster, he’d be able to ignore the grave rift that struck his marriage.

Make it a bit more tolerable, if it couldn’t be minimized to a point of non-existence, and work from there—but if anything, his actions only made his lapse more obvious, and dreadfully so.

When he once believed silence to represent submission, the assimilation of your place beside —or beneath— him, as well as the comprehension of your new life and the seeming no escape from it… he was, once again, proven that this was not as fulfilling as he pretended.

Not even when you were informed of his intentions of taking you to the doctor did he manage to incite a response from you, outside of apathy, and the impression that you’d only agreed to comply due to being essentially coerced to it… even if his mind desperately tried to console himself with the opposite. 

Your face was just… there, expressionless, blank, as if he had no weight in your mind, as if he weren’t even there, like the interaction that transpired when you joined him at the estate. 

From that point forward, not a single word slipped through your lips, aside from the occasional curt nod or hum you gave as a response to his attempts in making conversation whilst driving towards the first destination.

It’s clear that you were not interested in getting anything out of him that wasn’t related to today’s purpose, and it's here that he realizes hatred isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference—and he does not like, not one bit.

If he was to be completely honest, Naoya didn’t hold much hope when it came to obtaining anything positive regarding this outing, at least in the very beginning.

Not even Ranta’s guidance, who had provided him with the basic outline of what steps to take, carefully guiding him through each and every one of them, as well as disclosing what he’ll be reaping if everything went as planned, was enough to reassure him in his entirety; until it did, after continuous encouragements that is.

But there is one thing that he was capable of admitting, and that was that your cold treatment towards him, at least to this degree, was not in the intended arrangement.

From the brief moments he was allowed to sway his sight from the road and to your direction, he was able to notice that your eyes were solely set on the window, past the glass and onto the fleeting scenery. And if not there, on your lap, with your fidgeting fingers.

At first he unfussily assumed that you were partaking in sightseeing, admiring the change of scenery from the well-kept fauna back at the estate onto the withering trees, one of the many symbols that winter has, or was, arriving. 

In fact, if one was being particularly observant, he could even notice that the nearby mountains were starting to fill up with snow, resting just by its peak, preparing to gradually make its way down to the skirts…

Had he not caught the way your body was not-so-discreetly leaning towards the window, seeking to keep as far away as physically possible from him, and in such way that made him believe you were also considering jumping out through the window at any given opportunity, and consequently running to your freedom in an unknown location…? 

A train of thought that rooted from his own self doubt, one that burned with the assumption that your infatuation with his brother was so big, you couldn’t even stand to not be with anyone but him.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kept silent during a car ride alongside him, but back then, he doesn't recall ever feeling like this, maybe because the circumstances were different.

At the beginning of this marriage, you’d at least entertain his questions when he spoke to you. Even going as far as willingly putting on the front that you were “interested” in what he had to say by encouraging the conversation, regardless if it was just to appeal to his “good humor” and avoid a discussion… 

But the two are way past that point, and the silent, agonizing treatment you’re giving him now, is the fire that ignited his mind into spiraling,—the first of that day— into feigned scenarios as a desperate cry for answers.

Just as it would happen in this particular moment, when instead of wondering what he could do to invite you to open up to him, either by retaking one of the many topics mentioned in the radio, or simply by choosing an innocent ice-breakers intended to soothe perilous environments like these, he decided to fill in  the voids by imagining the kind of behavior you’d have if it was his brother, Naoaki, the one bringing you to the doctor instead of him.

Would you have kept silent, wanting nothing more than to observe the changing horizon, a refreshing sight away from the confining walls of the estate? Or perhaps strike a conversation, just to make the journey a bit more enjoyable, faster even? 

If that were the case, what kind of things would you say? Would you share a personal story? Tell a joke? Perhaps even list the things you’d like to do in the city? Maybe even… glance at him, you place your hand over his, as you sweetly smile at him instead of scowling out the window?

Naoya swallows, grip tightening on the tire as he forces himself to refocus on the road ahead.

Ranta had told him that his plan, aside from offering a good perception to the elders and his father (which was equally important as anything else in this particular moment) was also intended to provide him with a moment to reconnect with his wife, away from outside influences, and perhaps… start anew.

«It’s not going to be easy, Naoya. But usually anything worthwhile is—and you know that better than anyone»

His words are what kept him grounded in this difficult moment, so to speak, to not give up so easily, for this was only the start of the day and… so much had occurred between the two, things that nobody ever expected to happen (per the words of the staff and himself) so who knows what might be different this time out?

The two eventually arrive at the city in a much quicker and safer way than anticipated.

But that wasn’t surprising, of course, since these were the early hours of the day, where the vast majority of the population had yet to wake up and get ready, thus, keeping the roads clear for a comfortable and quick transit, just as it occurred at this very moment.

This is often a good omen for many that wished to interpret it that way, the sensation of having arrived early to their appointment and subsequently, the rest of the day’s venture’s was as fulfilling as a job well done, but for you, who didn’t expect much from this encounter to begin with (compared to Naoya who still held a sliver of hope) it meant nothing—nothing at all. 

At least not something that you considered in your benefit, considering that ever since you were made aware of his intentions, worsening when you stepped into the car and drove away from those you wished to be with, you began to be haunted by this constant, heavy and tormenting feeling of déjà vu.

The vivid fear that all that will happen, already happened before.

There was something pricking you at the back of your mind that constantly reminded you that this had been nothing more than a full-blown mistake, a gamble that you shouldn’t have taken less if you wanted to receive the same “prize” as before, … if not worse given the circumstances that surrounded this invitation.

But these judgments were, in the same breath as the ones that tortured you, irrelevant considering that you’ve already made your decision. It’s of no use to feel regretful about it—especially when there was no backing out anymore. You’d just end up suffering twice at this point.

Instead, you’ve tried redirecting your energy into focusing on the main reason why you ended up coming, that being the concerns regarding your health, the same ones you desperately needed closure on for your peace of mind.

Even if you were initially blind to it, too focused on keeping distance between you and Naoya above anything else, Naoaki was right by telling you that this was something you had to protect from Naoya’s grasp at all costs, as well as entitled to know. That you shouldn’t allow him to take anything else from you, when he’s already done so many times… that would only give him more power.

Outside of the somewhat tense antecedents that had more than enough justification to reappear, the other thing that took space in your mind, perhaps an attempt to distract you from your present, would be the changes across the city. 

They were minimal, almost unnoticeable if you were a frequent visitor—the closure of a shop, the expansion of a building, advertisements showing off newer products, updated services, lower rates for whatever credit card the bank of your choice was now offering.

But you weren’t there everyday, so for you, they were all but obvious.

It was a bit… reassuring , so to speak. It managed to give you a sensation you could only identify as comfort , perhaps even optimism, as if fate was telling you that things were not to remain identically horrifying as that day.

But just as you were given this encouragement, you were likewise cruelly reminded of how long you’ve been apart from your family, which only made you wonder when was the last time since you saw them.

Your staff and Naoaki made their absence marginally bearable, giving you the sense of security you desperately needed; but just as they were invigorating, they were correspondingly bittersweet, for you know deep inside your mind that they could never be their replacement. 

Not that any of them intended to do so, but something about not having your family close to you, your sister, your brother, even your seemingly estranged father, a breach of the promise Naoya made on your wedding day… it was tortuous, for a lack of better words—worse when you realized you had yet to hear anything from your sister and your continuous attempts of contact.

Nevertheless, this was a topic that would be suited for another moment, one that permitted you to become vulnerable, yet away from Naoya’s undeserving eyes, as well avoiding bringing that energy to the doctor whom you couldn’t label as anything else but misogynistically dismissive about your health (ironic with the career that he has) which you are to meet in just a few minutes, when your husband makes the left turn in the quickly approaching exit you rightfully recognized and enters the underground parking lot.

Or so that’s what you expected to occur, until he unprecedentedly takes a different route, making a turn to the right , following the street into another avenue.

If the sense of déjà vu  that continuously kept you company throughout the entirety of your trip, as if talking about a ghostly third passenger, reminded you ever so sharply that you were anything but off the hook of today’s possible mishaps already had you on edge, his unforeseen detour made efficient work to place you in an unspeakably worse disposition. 

It’s the outcome you anticipatedly—yet in a repudiating manner— envisioned he’d commit as soon as he secured you in his grasp. 

Alone, away from those that could possibly help you, or at least… make your suffering a bit more bearable, and secluded from those that might dare, for him to commit his atrocities comfortably.

Tightly clutching to the skirt of your kimono with your now sweaty hands, you hold your breath as your mind sprints to evoke all the preparation you could possibly muster for what’s to come, interpretations that only serve to paint your horrid future in the darkest of shades as he continues to take you into an unknown destination.

The movie in your minds eye plays on virtually uninterrupted, that is, until a tall gray tower manages to catch your attention, coincidentally the one that Naoya seems to be driving towards, verified by the way he begins to slow down, turn on the direction onto it’s direction, and steer into what you categorize as the entrance to it’s designated parking for all visitors.

The car is stopped just a few feet past the marked entrance by a man, a valet driver as described by the logo embroidered in its shirt, who hastily walks over to Naoya’s side, presumably to request his keys.

Your uncertainty remains linear as Naoya rolls the window down, wondering just what kind of place he was intending to take you—it’s only until the man asks your husband which office he plans on visiting for the day (alongside the directory you saw later on when entering said building) did you realize that he had taken you to perform none other than the examinations the gynecologist ordered you to take after your last consultation—in his words, to ensure that your health was… “in order”.

At this revelation, all that you could think is… how… redundant . Alongside the cluster of baffling, surprised, but most of all, angering , emotions you were dumped with to deal.

Considering the tightness of today's timetable, which you only learned thanks to Mariya, it felt like your health was almost an afterthought for Naoya—and perhaps that wouldn’t be that much of a absurd assumption, since most of his family didn’t care about your overall fitness but rather, your value in terms of fertility.

In a more direct manner to you, it was safe to say that Naoya didn't care to make these appointments before when time was still in abundance. He only did them now because he needed a way to get you out of the estate, as much as he could, and what better excuse than to do all of this right at this moment?

Bringing you to the doctor was just something extra, something he performed out of duty and not of need, perhaps even to reiterate his standing with his family so he wouldn’t look so pathetic before them.

And while some of your thoughts were accurate when describing part of his inner workings, the rest were something else…

But that’s not something you were meant to know, at least, not now. Not when you mind had the sole goal of purposely getting what you need and heading back to the estate as soon as possible.

Because to you, Naoya and his attempts were nothing .

Nothing but poor excuses, him grasping at straws for a reality he’d lost in a matter of seconds for his poor decisions, last-ditch efforts to regain your trust under the pretense it was there, just covered, misplaced perhaps.

When the reality was much different. Vastly so.

It was never there to begin with.

After going through various offices with different doctors, depending of the specialist you were to see, and getting your exams done it’s when you realize why Naoya had chosen this specific place instead of the usual labs most people went to, the one that were scattered across the country for accessible usage: it’s because here, with the gentle persuasion of money, the results could be available in less than an hour.

It’s one of the many benefits from having money, you know well, to be able to pay the equivalent of time in currency and just move on.

Had this occurred in the universe where you actually had an amicable relationship with your husband, you would’ve been impressed. You would’ve seen his efforts as if trying to rush through something you were evidently distressed about, judged by the way you were less than thrilled to be poked and prodded as some kind of extravagant bug , and get you the help you needed for something that afflicted you even greater.

But as with all things with him, you didn’t feel anything but animosity towards his “attempts” to care , because as much as he tried to convince you that his actions were of genuine interest by carefully guiding you through procedures, asking you to take a seat as he checked-in, and once that was set, bringing you water, asking if there was something you wanted to eat in the meantime… you knew it was nothing more than actions to fuel his own agenda. 

“Get on with it” as you recall him saying in between flashes of pain and anguish the day Mariya brought him to see you in your bedroom to verify you were telling the truth… 

As if. Once again, you were an afterthought, an inconvenience. A guinea pig he had the misfortune of acquiring under false pretenses made by your elders who were all too eager to get rid of so as to make up for your sister’s mistakes, and now had to waste time and money trying to fix you, give you a purpose, before you’re labeled as a total loss and afterwards, discard you.

Confirmation of the cruel views from those that were supposed to protect you…

Well, Naoya could think whatever he wanted, and you wouldn’t care. 

You’d remain silent, just as he always expected you to be and push through this unpleasant moment until you’re finally back with your loved ones—Ironic that he now wants the opposite, but it only serves to show how oscillating he was.

After the results were ready, you and Naoya headed back to the underground parking lot, waiting a few minutes in the designated area to get the keys of his car by the same valet driver from before and finally heading to the building you anticipated to go first.

The trip there had been fast, the calmness of the streets still present even after two hours had gone by, making it available to take the familiar left turn into the same underground parking and leaving the car in the first spot he found in the appropriate place for those visiting your specialist.

When the sudden silence that follows the quieting down of the engine makes your breath hitch on your throat, like the realization that the moment you were unobtrusively forecasting is finally here.

You knew this was going to happen, yet, it remained as nerve-wracking as it was the first time, and as you hurriedly prepare to get out of the car, just before he’s able to do as much —because you obviously didn’t want to be near him any more than you’ve done in the past instances— you gather all the courage you could and set your worries aside as you finally unlock the door, jump out of the car, quickly fixing the skirt of your kimono, and walk.

Having remembered the path from last time, you don’t even bother to wait for Naoya or even allow him to manhandle you into the office just as he’d done in the others; In fact, you seem to purposely mute off his rushed footsteps, which were dangerously close to you, as you hurriedly made way to the elevator doors and press the button just besides it, to call the lift.

One that arrives painfully slow, giving Naoya enough time to catch up to you.

A bell rings, and then, the doors open—with it, offering the color-draining visage of the sour position you distractedly set yourself to be in thanks to your urgency: confinement, in a small place with him .

You were able to avoid such placement up to this moment due the placement of the labs. They were on the first floor, meaning that it was only a matter of walking up a few steps to get to them; and even if you needed to be guided by him, you were still able to keep some distance.

A feat that was further gratifyingly possible thanks to the “patients only” policy imposed by said locations, which kept him at the waiting area and away from you.

As well as thanks to his concentration when driving, eyes solely focused on the road as he took you from one point to the other. Even when he was angry, as you remembered, he was never one to endanger himself behind the wheel, so you didn’t need to worry about him trying to do anything… undesirable in the mean time.

In other words, steering from him had been a relatively easy task due to unprecedented actions by fate.

But that was only to be short-lived when destiny deemed it your time to receive your own dosage of karma, and in such a tiny, exposing way, that all you could hope is that he would find it in him to compose himself before arriving to the doctor, so as to prevent publicly humiliating one another yet again, as your heart begins to painfully beat against your chest.

Thus, you hold your breath yet again, waiting for the moment to come that he’ll speak and tell you something that will hurt you, berate you, clenching your hands as you envision how you want nothing more than to be with Naoaki—

But as seconds pass… nothing happens. Instead, all that he does is step into the elevator, take the empty spot beside you and swiftly press the floor number on the pad —one that you didn’t place in yourself due to your seeming forgetfulness—before reacting his hand to his side.

The door closes, and then, it’s nothing but silence.

White noise is what fills the air and distracts you from the uneasy presence Naoya brings to you, and would’ve presumably continued so, that is, until by some strange reason, he finally decides to do what you awaited him to do—although… in a vastly different depiction:

Speak.

“How… are you?” he murmurs, body shifting to your direction, as his eyes travel from the ground to you. 

It’s the first word Naoya directs to you—outside of the “I got you more water” and “Are you ready?”’s that he gave you a few hours before. Different too, from the attempts he tried to convey of socializing at the car, when it came to analyzing his behavior.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being… hesitant .

An answer that would’ve made you scoff if you weren’t speechless beyond any reasonable doubt.

«Why?» Is all that you ask yourself «Why did he ask me that, of all things? When… when he—when all that he’s done is hurt me with his indifference?»

The thing is, Naoya only spoke at this moment because he’d been trying to gather enough courage to do so. 

After all, the way you’d continuously ignored him through every step of the way was far more agonizing than he could have anticipated, as well as realizing that he didn’t have the necessary skills to do what his best friend had requested him to do.

Ranta tasked him with perhaps the most strenuous job he’d ever faced in his life, and that would be, to be gentle with you. 

Treat you as if you were a flower, show that he cared about you and your health, and that he wasn’t simply doing this out of attempting to conceive a positive image with the elders, and get to know you while at it.

But that was to be a heavy task for the man that had never been one to care for others outside his personal interest, or professional life—he never showed sympathy or interest for his relatives, extending to his coworkers, less for the cursed enemies he was set to destroy… And unmistakingly, for the woman that was to be his wife.

… So one could only imagine the pressure that fell on his shoulders when Ranta approached him with this request, more so when you were unwilling to participate, and when he still remained blind to the factual reasoning behind your behavior.

But Naoya was a persistent man, and once he’s set something in his mind, he scrambles to make the best of his circumstances and continue on.

“I mean, we’re going to the doctor and I can’t imagine that’s any fun, so I just wanted to know if there’s—”

You don’t say you don’t want to speak with him, but the way you slightly turn your body away from him is all that he needs for an answer.

Naoya’s eyes fall back to the ground, pressing his lips together before looking back to the door. 

His go-to reaction often pertains to a violent outburst of emotion when someone evidently rejects him, berating them for not acknowledging his status and believing themselves to be above his recognition , but after all that’s happened… he—he doesn’t seem to have the energy to do so.

He doesn’t want to push you away anymore. Not if you’re to run to his brother’s arms…

The elevator eventually stops at the aforementioned floor, dinging before the doors slide open. Without seconds to waste, and wanting nothing more than to be away from him, you’re the first to step outside, making your way to the office as the location comes back to you, and only stopping once you’re before the entrance.

Whether Naoya is right behind you, or a few steps more than that, you don’t care. Not when you’ve already alerted the receptionist to be there by ringing the nearby bell and unlocking the door soon after. 

If he wants to be let inside, then you guess he’ll have to hurry—which he does upon seeing you push the door, running to your side and placing his hand over the door to keep it open for you, a gesture that has you immediately releasing the door in favor of scampering ahead and distant from him. 

This has him faltering his movements for a second, rooting him on the spot, before the lingering, attentive gaze of the receptionist shamefully pulls him away from his thoughts and back to the present.

Once inside, both are inundated by a wave of familiarity just by getting a quick glimpse at its surroundings—it had remain virtually the same since their last time there, with the exception of the flowers at the glass vase in the middle of the room; when once they were lilies they were now jasmines; well according to the minimalist, colorless yet clean aesthetic of the reception. 

«Doctors and their obsession with white» is what you decide to comment about the decoration. Naoya doesn’t give it any thought.

Perhaps the only thing that you wished had been different was the doctor in question, for all the things that you were not looking forward to, his scrutiny was high on the list.

But that’s a topic that’s been appropriately dealt with, no point of getting it out of the confines of your mind once you’re in the man’s waiting room. You just have to… endure it. For your health.

Naoya, as before, is the one to check in with the receptionist. And after doing so, he makes way to the seat besides yours, just to receive another dosage of your alienation.

It didn’t take much longer than a mere few seconds before the doctor, with a few more gray hairs that either can perceive—another passage of time— comes out of his office to receive the couple.

“Zen’in-san!” The man cheerfully greets, a smile on his face, as he approaches you. 

Although the message could be easily perceived as delegated to the two, the way his eyes don’t peel away from your husband, as well as how he amicably greets him as if an old friend, gives you the basic understanding of how your consultation is going to proceed.

If only invisibility was a perk that worked in your favor, and not against…

“It’s good to see you and your wife again! Back for a check-up?”

“As agreed.” Naoya says, standing up as he reaches for the extended hand of the doctor and shaking it, with you dejectedly doing the same.

“It’s been a while, I was starting to worry something bad had occurred!”

Naoya remains quiet, knowing well that to talk about his personal life with strangers was rude—but oh, how he wanted to agree…

“Just busy” is what he concedes, and once the doctor gestures to them to follow him, Naoya automatically places his hand behind your back, wanting nothing more than to guide you in the way that Ranta had hinted some women might like. 

Unfortunately for him, you were going to be the exception in that data pool, and as soon as you sensed his touch you retaliated by taking a quick step forward, peeling away from his hand and taking the lead for yourself.

If Naoya, or the doctor for that matter, had reacted to your antipathy, you didn’t notice—nor cared to do so as you continued on by taking a seat on the same chair as you did last time. Although you could presume they did, arguing by the peculiar look the receptionist seemed to give Naoya after your sudden detachment.

You’d had to admit that you were a bit ashamed by acting in a way many would consider childish… but you had your reasons, and that’s something that they’ll have to eventually removed from their minds, just as you did when refocusing on the doctor who had taken his seat behind the desk, as you now wondered what was taking him so long to begin.

That would be an easily answered question, one that you were heavily involved in, to no one’s surprise.

Turns out that the doctor had noticed these small behaviors, consequences of your fissured marriage, and just as soon as his eyes landed on the two. 

The air surrounding them was engulfed with a heavy, yet cold aura that gave him the sensation that he wasn’t necessarily welcomed there, more precisely, he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to. Yet, his discomfort wasn’t enough to distinguish just quite the reason behind this change, that is, until he arrived at his designated seat and was finally able to take a good look at the two.

It’s then that the revelation unveiled itself before him: It’s as if you and Naoya switched bodies!

An assumption that rooted from his remembrance of Naoya’s less-than-thrilled demeanor last time he was there, allegedly only doing so because he was roped into it—and you, troubled, if not pessimistic, from all the arduous trials you were put through on the days before, with no solution to be seen in the near future… 

It now appeared as if you were the one that didn’t want to be there, odd considering it was your specialist. And Naoya… Well, he didn’t necessarily look like he was enjoying his time there either, but something about the muteness in his eyes gave the man the impression that he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

One would think the doctor was proficient in divination for his theories weren’t that far off from the truth, however, that is something that would only remain as that: speculations, for it didn’t pertain to his field nor was he being paid to do so.

Still, that didn’t stop him from admiring just how interesting these turn of events were…

The doctor returns to his job by glancing at the monitor whilst vigorously typing into the keyboard, seemingly pulling up your file before quickly skimming through it to refresh his memory about your case.

Once he’s gathered enough information of what he’s dealing with, the man glances up to the estranged couple, clears his throat, and begins.

“So, tell me, what has happened during this time that we have not seen each other?” He asks, or more precisely, he asks your husband, evident by his set look on him—the way your voice is discarded even when it pertains to your issues made you want to scoff, but you managed to hold it back by clenching your hands instead. “How has her body behaved since the last time we saw each other?”

Naoya blinks, looks at you (as if trying to urge you on, before going back to the doctor. It's only after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence between the 3 that he realizes it's him who he was speaking to. 

After snapping out of his seeming trance, the heir swallows and proceeds.

“I… I think fine” he responds, voice uncertain as he's forced to reflect just how much in the dark he was regarding you in the days he was away. 

Will that stop him from speaking ignorantly, and instead, seek you to state the truth?

No— of course not. After all, it's him who's being acknowledged, not you.

And will he deny that this reason mainly stood because it made him feel, somewhere deep inside him, special? As if he was actually being considered for issues regarding you, contrary to how the estate was quick to disregard him after his failures?

That'd also be a negative answer. How… disappointing.

“The staff said that she had a rather calmer… period than last time” he adds, and the doctor soon begins to type these declarations into your file. “Oh, that’s good” he concurred, squinting his eyes as he glanced towards the monitor before clearing his throat yet again “And it says here that you… your wife had some tears inside her vagina, had there been any issues with that ?” He circles back to the couple, a seemingly innocent question intended to get nothing more out of them than what he needs, but there was something about his wording that incited something lurid inside your husband, which would only grow as the consultation went on.

“Not… that I would know” Naoya then looks at you, as if hoping to see your reaction by a not-so-hidden motive, but your gaze is intently fixed at the ground, careless of the world around you, and thus, you don’t see his gestures outside of the corner of your eye which would pass unregistered in due time.

Your lack of response manages to baffle him, even if it was just for a moment, but why would that be? 

You’re keeping quiet, letting the men talk, because at the end of the day, isn’t that what they wanted? To make their own decision since there was no one else more suited to do so than themselves?

Or perhaps did he expect you to give yourself away through a subtle grimace? Just as the rumors in the estate seemed to blame you with?

Something began to brew inside your mind.

“We… haven’t been together in a while. I’ve been busy with work, and she has the house to tend after, so … yes. I don’t know” Naoya reiterates and the doctor raises his eyebrows.

“ Really ?” To say he was skeptical would be an understatement. Because given the peculiar context behind your husband, he found it hard to believe that someone like him would’ve kept his hands away from his wife, especially for as long as their last appointment to today. 

He still recalls the disturbance etched across his features once he was presented with the suggestion of giving you a break for just a few days if you were to heal appropriately. Something that seemingly ended up lasted way longer than intended, up until now.

Did Naoya, the womanizer, have a change of heart? And if so, was he telling the truth?

Or perhaps… you did?

“Is that true, Mrs. Zen’in?” he inquired, now nudging in your direction. 

“Yes” you said curtly, unwilling to give anything more—not if it wasn’t of your interest, and less if he was to proceed as you suspected “He’s telling the truth”

“And you haven’t done anything with anyone else?” He prods on, and his implication, even one that you knew was coming, still manages to sting you, as well as perk Naoya’s ears to his full, undivided, attention. 

No stranger to these kinds of tactics, you’re quick to catch his dark intentions and slide them off from your mind as quickly as you could. Because they’re all the same, cut from the same fabric, these kinds of men that is. Believing if you aren’t a prude, you’re some kind of seductress that can’t keep it in her pants, right? 

If your husband was right, it was only obvious that you were wrong.

And that wasn’t even to be the worst in this situation—that was something that Naoya earned once again, ever the accomplished one. 

He should’ve taken this moment to speak up and put a stop to the doctor’s less than professional questions, demanding that he treat his wife with respect and subsequently his marriage… but you’ve long understood  to not expect anything from the arrogant man you had the misfortune of calling your husband. 

He, the one you’ve long come to understand that doesn’t care for anyone else but for him, remains quiet as his mind disregards the doctor’s question as nothing outside the norm —perhaps because he was already subjected to this kind of scrutiny before— failing to notice just how wrong and invasive his questions were as he continues to avoid reality by allowing his mind to pull him into a dark place, the second time that day.

The doctor’s question hits the nail when it comes to bringing up the topic that has been plaguing him ever since rumors of your supposed—no, not supposed, certain— relationship with his brother began, as well as the roots of his insecurities. 

The sight of him leaving your chambers is enough evidence to cite as something happening…

Naoya knows Ranta would disapprove of this sentiment, for he was the one that begged him to not jump to conclusions. Even if you and Naoaki were undeniably closer than many would’ve liked their partner to be with their in-law, it might just be nothing more than a friendship at the end of the day, one that rose due to his absence—

Yet, it seems like only he and his friend were the ones that still believed that, because the rest of the people around them acted as if they knew exactly what was going on, even going as far as mocking him about it. 

And now, the doctor was the newest addition to that group.

Was it really… that obvious?

Either way, regardless of what is seen in the eyes of others, he can’t help but wonder… even if it’s wrong that the man is intruding in such a crude manner, what your answer might be.

After all, there’s no more efficient way to quiet the rumors than to get the opinion of a health professional , right? Even if there are lies sprinkled in between, Naoya knows the doctor will see right through them, and put an end to his misery, once and for all… 

It’s why his heart was beating heavily against his chest, to the point where he felt his ears start ringing and his throat tightening as he intently looked at you, anxiously awaiting for your revealing answer…!

“I haven’t” you respond truthfully and without hesitation. A tone that sort of passes undetected to Naoya, who all he can do at this very moment is focus on your words and the truthfulness behind them, but not to the incredulous doctor, who is quick to refute them as soon as they fall into his ears.

“ Is that so? ” the doctor challenges, with the same kind of tone you’ve always heard Naoya use condescendingly against you when provided with the answers they sought—it’s not your fault they aren’t what they wanted. Had they desired to hear something in specific, they should’ve told you, given you a script to study and replicate. “Then what happened during these days you were away? You didn’t have any… needs before or during your period?”

“No” you deny once again, pushing through the disgust his suggestions bring you to defend your integrity.  “I was nauseous for a week straight , I barely ate anything because I knew I would just throw it right back out—at one point I just stopped trying. And if that wasn’t enough, my cramps and flow were rather… heavier this occasion, binding me to my bed”

The doctor continues stares at you, as if dissecting your words before eventually looking back at the computer screen and seemingly writing them in as an addition to your record. Whether he added a note to take your words with a grain of salt or not, eluded you, for what bothered you the most was the fact that you had to justify your lifestyle beyond a single no , when with Naoya, he could literally tell him the most outrageous thing and you were sure he wouldn’t question it. Which he did!

Any other professional would’ve taken your word for it and moved on, but as you’ve stated before, the men you'd unfortunately surrounded yourself with ever since your introduction to the Zen'in have been nothing but doubtful when it comes to you—as if you’d given them plentiful reasons to do so.

As if you were the one that wronged them.

But while the doctor seemed to be uninterested in your truth, simply adding your explanation to his realms of possibilities out of formality, Naoya was nothing if not shocked by this revelation.

Your statement had come out of nowhere, in a way, and without prior signs that would have lessened the surprise of his miscalculations.

Whenever he inquired about your period, in the rare moments he bothered to care, his staff would solely rely on what your ladies obliged, what's to be the same answer every time: she’s fine .

Thus, it was natural to assume he was considerably baffled upon learning that there was more than what you and your entourage were letting on. 

The revelation unwittingly takes him back to the moment where he learned of your 14 days of continuous bleeding as soon as he returned back home.

Recollecting the distressed look on your face he got to see when he visited your room upon demanding to see proof of such a claim, not believing their words for they were nothing but distressing , if not impossible.

Your status back then, although not as critical as the doctor would later declare, was surprising in itself for your husband to get you checked. So to hear an even worse repercussion bewildered him — yet, there was still something in his mind that forbade him from comprehending the complexity of your case, at least emphatically, stemming from the absence of trust between the two.

Naoya wonders.

Was this… your truth? Did you really… Did you really spend a whole week feeling indisposed, locked in your room, forced to keep away from the rest of the estate, while unable to eat or drink anything?

If so, why wasn’t he made aware of this? Why did your staff think it necessary to lie to him about it? Even if he knew something about it, it was briefly and through Ranta's knowledge… something that wasn't his duty.

It was you who should’ve ordered your ladies to inform him of your factual status, after all, the two had a common enemy: your imminent death.

One that could only be stopped if you got pregnant, a circumstance that would happen if both compromised.

It doesn't make sense. He doesn’t know why you didn’t tell him. He… he doesn’t understand why.

Did you not… did you not want to avoid that ?

His concern for you in that matter is evident, more so when he's reminded the clock continues to tick when it comes to your end. 

And yet, far from being intrigued by your condition, or interested in finding a way on how to prevent his father's tyranny from striking his life yet again, his secluded mind pulls him into a dark place, the same one as before, which makes him frightfully ponder…

Was Naoaki there when everything happened? Was this the moment you became acquainted with him? Or perhaps… the moment the two became closer?

Did he ask you about your health, worry about you, or did you tell him about these things without the need of being asked?

Naoya is in agony thinking about just how much you've shared of your life with his brother, but the world around him doesn't stop, neither cares to comfort him as the doctor continues on.

"Alright" he says, typing in the last details of your file before pushing himself up from the chair. "I'm going to take your weight and from there we'll do an ultrasound. Follow me, please”

You frown. The need for an ultrasound seems redundant to you—and it is , for you just had an ultrasound performed on you a few hours ago, printed in the highest quality current technology permitted, and above all, from that same day.

Luckily, it seems that Naoya's two brain cells manage to remind him of that, prompting him to speak up.

"That won't be necessary, I have an ultrasound from today here" your husband says, offering the doctor the white folder he'd brought along with him. The man seems to stare at it for a few seconds, as if trying to discern what it was, before reaching inside for its contents.

He slips the black material out, eyes squinting as he carefully analyzes the image on it before responding.

"It's wrong, I'll have to do one myself"

It doesn’t take you longer than a few seconds for you to realize it was the same apprehension controlling his present decisions.

In other words, he believed your examinations were not genuine, fabricated, and needed to see the truth before his own eyes through his own merit.

It angers you that not only were you subjected to all kinds of exams, as if you were some kind of alien life form yet to be identified (and from a very early hour at that) but also, that it had been all for nothing!

Nonetheless, knowing well that arguing with a wall is nothing more than a waste of time and energy, you begrudgingly agree to silently obey his orders by walking towards the digital scale (another major difference from your last consultation, where he'd given you the benefit of the doubt and trusted your words) followed carefully removing your footwear —holding onto the wall when necessary to not lose balance— while feeling the heavy gazes of the doctor and your husband burning holes on your back, as if urging you to step on the platform, which you did only a few seconds after. 

Once the screen begins to blink signifying it was calculating your weight, your gaze wanders away. The topic of body weight never being an enjoyable one for you to partake in, less when it came from a medical standpoint—for you never seemed to be in the right parameters, you're either too low, too high, or the source of all of your illnesses, but never just a number.

Oh well.

After being virtually subdued to a diet consisting solely of rabbit food, you expect it to be on the lower side of the spectrum. You even fail to consider the clandestine portions of mochi in between meals as influential enough to affect these numbers

A thought that gains recognition when the scale beeps and the doctor releases a hum of pleasant surprise, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.

"Ah, you've actually lost quite an amount of weight" he reiterates, and you can only assess his statement with a nod thanks to the number you recall providing last time, but that’s not what irked you of this exchange, for such trivialities had long fallen into your own realm of indifference.

What irritates you the most is how he doesn’t even care to wonder if perhaps this was a side effect of your nauseating crusade weeks ago, a symptom of the days you didn’t eat a single thing because you were too disgusted to do so, or maybe another hormonal repercussion for having halted your treatment so abruptly. 

No, he just assumes what many people do: that any weight loss is a good loss, and this only leads you , in turn, to wonder why you even considered coming along in the first place.

«Because I need to know if I’m completely healed» is what you console yourself with as you step down from the scale, putting your shoes on as you head back to your seat.

"But be careful to not lose that much weight, it's necessary for a woman to remain healthy if the baby is to be healthy as well. Be sure to feed her more protein, Zen'in-san" At his mention, Naoya blinks out of another trance and looks at the doctor before giving a quick nod, the impression that he’d been closely attentive to his words and surroundings, and not on his stupid and baseless thoughts regarding you and your alleged paramour.

The only positive thing to come out of this specific circumstance , you dare to assume, is the possibility of eating meat again, which you could only imagine how despondent Junko was going to be when she heard of this. All of her efforts of converting you into vegetarianism —the lifestyle your in-laws were surprisingly involved in— foiled in less than a day.

Although you're sure she'd find a way to avoid red meat one way or the other, because proved yet again and again, what you want isn't exactly what you're going to get .

"I will" Naoya acknowledged before his eyes land on you, gazes crossing for a second before you’re quick to look away. He presses his lips together, pushing down the sensation of your indifference (which only stung harder when remembering the smile you gave his brother before leaving the estate) in favor of focusing on something else. Your weight, for example. 

Now that the doctor mentioned it, he does recall feeling you to be a bit thinner in his arms the last time he held you, but he simply assumed it had been his long absence to be deceiving him.

He didn't know what to think of this change, for he never cared about those things when it came to you, he considered himself to be accepting of you however you were. But not of your relations, and certainly not with his bro—

His course of thought is quickly interjected with the continuation of the consultation by the way the doctor gestures to you head towards the other room: the same place where you'd been ludicrously exposed before the two under the pretenses of medical necessities , the one harboring the infamous gynecologist chair as well as the ultrasound machine and monitor—set to perform the exam he believed counterfeit by abhorrent reasons.

At this, Naoya is prompted to stand up and follow the pair, taking quick strides to grace your side, placing his hand behind your back as he attempts to guide you towards the door.

An act that burns and exposes your skin every single time upon feeling his hand on you, a sensation you rush to alleviate by skipping ahead, arriving much faster than anticipated to the chair and jumping onto it, carefully exposing whatever is necessary for your ultrasound soon after.

Naoya remains quiet as he sees you get ready, but his mind was all but lively with sensations of rejection and solitude shackling in his heart.

Well, what did he expect? That just because he woke up and decided to act eerily you’d reciprocate his intentions?

As if.

Once completely reclined and with your stomach exposed, the doctor applies the infamously cold gel on your skin before taking the probe and spreading it evenly.

After that he glances at the nearby monitor and begins the search for what you presume to be your ovaries—the eyes of your husband and yours doing the same as his.

The monitor showed all kinds of black and white swirls, layered upon roughed textures as the doctor moved the scanner from one side of your stomach to the other, applying ever so slight pressure from time to time as if trying to obtain a clearer image, whilst his glance remained fixated on said figures, none clear to either’s untrained eye.

The doctor knew very well what he was looking for, however in a way, Naoya did too.

As noted before, Naoya's mind has been in a rough spot since he'd learned he's (or on his way) losing you, worsening when his plan for this encounter was not going as expected.

His mind is so… out of touch with reality, twisted by his own delusions, that whenever something associates to you he can't help but wonder how this could relate back to his brother: from comparing how interactive you’d be with Naoaki if he were in his shoes, to how much you’ve shared of your life with him…

Culminating on how close the two were. 

One could say that he really should be more trusting of his wife, that she had no reason to lie to the doctor who could easily debunk her assumptions with countless methods, but it's important to remember that Naoya wasn’t your typical husband—nor was this your typical marriage to begin with.

This union wasn’t formed under trust, or even love, it was an arrangement of convenience , of value, of whatever the groom and bride could get out of each other's family.

And because of this, all that Naoya could do was fix his stare at the screen as he… well, as he hopes to not find the semblance of life palpitating back at him on it. 

The undeniable evidence that you were with child, and it was not his.

A question that took form ever since the elders "jokingly" brought it up, as well as when he saw his brother leave your chambers. If only the labs he'd taken you to didn't have such restrictive policies, he would've known by now.

But he didn't, and such was his fate to deal with the suffocating, sickly sensation that clung to him, feeding off his energy as seconds passed and no answer was given yet.

The room spins as his vision fogs up at the prospect of your infidelity. 

If that were the case, he knew he'd have no standing to fight against it, no justification, not even as your rightful husband , or even heir … because right now, he'd lost all of those privileges.

But if the odds dictated you weren't pregnant… Well, it wouldn't be as great as a discovery either way for the prospect of your infertility would still be very much at hand, and the “positive” affluence that Ranta counted to be acquired from this visit would've been nothing more than wishful thinking—with your death sentence continuing on.

Whatever angle he takes, he loses.

But at least… at least there's one chance that you were indeed, not with his brother. 

What a pathetic reassuring thought to have, when the underlying issue was much bigger than that…

After seconds of dismay and doubt, the monitor eventually broadcasts a somewhat identifiable figure and the man stops his search.

"Well, your ovaries seem ok, a good size" The doctor says as he reaches over to the nearby panel and freezes the image. After showing you so, he unfreezes the image and moves again, a bit lower this time before repeating the same stopping and freezing process at another figure. "The cervix is of a healthy size too, nothing unusual—in fact, there’s nothing ” he says, in a tone you could only distinguish as… disappointment? 

Naoya feels a weight to be lifted from his shoulders as his chest decompresses through a not so subtle sigh, a sound that makes the doctor shoot him a piercing look, one that appears to ask “ Why are you glad? Didn’t you want her to be pregnant?”  

The look of salvation dissipates from his face as soon as he catches sight of his reaction, while you, who glanced up to Naoya by inertia after hearing the doctor's scoff, clench your jaw as a response to his idiotic reaction—all of this, all of these ridiculous procedures were because of him and his family. And he still dared behave this way? As if it wasn't his own father who sentenced you to death, which he didn't even attempt to debunk? 

The point that was brewing in your mind just a few minutes ago becomes clear: just like his relatives, he was morbidly waiting to see if your "acts" with Naoaki had resulted in something bigger, and what better way to do so than bringing you here?

Which of course were nothing but rumors, because when did they expect that to happen, when all you could do is cower in fear?!

Regardless of that, Naoya should at least have the decency to keep quiet, or disappear from your life, if he's so desperate to do something.

"Now let's check inside" the doctor sighs as he reaches over for a napkin and roughly cleans the gel off your stomach before putting away all of his tools "your legs on the side, please" he instructs, setting everything up for the next procedure.

You do so as requested, gently sliding yourself up so you could comfortably lift your legs onto the holders, accommodating into a better position before looking up to him and silently signaling your preparation.

This is, and would probably continue to be,  the most vulnerable and exposed you've ever felt in your life when it comes to your health—and it’s not the act that scares you, you’ve never been one to shy away from things that needed to be done… but it’s the general context behind it that discourages you.

Yet, you know it’s the only way to know the status of the (one of many) horrendous wounds Naoya’s carelessness inflicted on you and see if you've healed.

Once the man double checks everything is set, he briefly informs you of his coming intrusion when you feel something cool and thin prodding at your entrance, breath hitching when the sensation pushes deeper inside you, gently scrubbing your walls; the beginning of the second stage.

The discomfort of this position and act, as well as the unwanted companionship of the man you hated the most in the world made you unwittingly tighten your grasp on the arm rest, as well as your lower areas, which the doctor was unable to ignore and subsequently, call out, for it was starting to hinder his process.

“You need to relax, or I won’t be able to work” he warns and you, wanting nothing more than to get this over with as soon as possible, proceed to take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds before exhaling, exerting your best to do what he requested.

Once you feel him move again, you glance over to the screen in efforts to further lull your tension, distracting yourself with nothing more than the pinkish color of your insides apparent on the monitor.

You don't know if seeing this shade was a good sign, but the lack of pain compared to the last time manages to convince you to the point of releasing another sigh. Your mind is relieved of a shackle when it comes to the damage of your body and the benefits of your sacrifice begin to show.

And not only that: it also served as a testament that you truly haven't done anything to those that doubted you, such as your radical husband and his treacherous family—something Naoya was starting to see as well, which filled him with hope. 

The doctor continues to prod you for a few seconds more, as if trying to get his "gotcha moment" only to realize there was nothing to reveal. 

With this, the man finally arrives at the conclusion that indeed, there was nothing out of place, and in that note he begins to retract his tools from your body, setting them aside for sterilization, and turns the equipment off.

"She healed quite nicely" he declares rather… oddly, as if he were surprised. Was he doubting his prescription? No, that wasn’t the case, evident by his following words "I guess the two of you have been saying the truth"

To avoid verbally expressing your disappointment at his unwanted commentary, you cast your mind into fixing yourself, getting down the chair, and begin to count to ten. You certainly didn't expect any less from him after constantly instigating you and your husband—but just… why? Why had he decided to be particularly irksome this day?

Your husband, on the other hand, couldn't feel anything but relieved to know that his worries, all of them were for naught, since it was now proven that Ranta's belief of a friendship between the two was a fact.

Nothing had occurred between you and his brother, and now that he was sure, he couldn't help but reflect on how silly he was for even considering such a thing.

Ranta was right. He’s always right, Naoya insincerely presumes. His best friend ultimately had only the best intentions for him, no reason to lie or concoct a plan that would blunder him in the long run.

Everything would proceed in an orderly fashion, it was only a matter of time and patience for when it finally did. And if this advancement didn’t signify that, then he doesn’t know what did!

"Well, at least from what I saw everything seemed to be fine" the doctor concludes, circling back to the sole topic you were interested in as he wandered off back to his desk, with you and Naoya just right behind after you were done adjusting yourself in a more presentable image—of course, you didn’t stop nor wait for Naoya under any circumstance, you simply went ahead and took your designated seat.

The man retakes the folder containing your exams and decides to belatedly look over them, now through a different perspective thanks to his own findings.

"And the studies you brought seem to back it up as well" he analyzes, and your husband, at the prospect of a positive outcome, eagerly inquires. 

"Would you say that she’s—she's healthy?" It's a question that might implicate some concern for you, but after observing the subtle signals of his reaction when Naoaki was obliquely brought into the conversation, as well as your cohesion, you come to the conclusion that all of this had been to save his skin with his father —and nothing more— just so come back home and tell him there was still something good to be salvaged from sham of a marriage you've been stuck in, and maybe patch your seeming insolence as well.

To think you believed he wanted to be with you…

"All things accounted for, I guess you could say she's healthy." the doctor concurs and Naoya sighs, everything going as planned… "But I wouldn't rush to inform your father about it" 

Your ears and Naoya's perk, shoulders tensing and blood freezing at the sudden mention of Naobito. "There’s still things that we have to account for regarding her infertility, and sadly that’s something that a few tests won’t be able to predict outside her FSH levels or her actually getting pregnant, of course." The man sets your documents back into the folder and sets them to the side "She kind of reminds me of your mother, actually. Such a sensitive case… I can’t blame Naobito for trying to make sure his son doesn’t make the same mistake as him, filling the family with disappointments—no offense, of course, to you or your brothers, I’m just repeating his words'' The man shrugs, no remorse in his face after releasing highly insulting words towards you, your husband, and his close relatives. 

It's here that something inside Naoya's and your mind clicks. The reason why the doctor had been so crude with the two, meticulous about his work.

Because Naobito thought it necessary to  step in their marriage once again, telling the doctor the murkiness of the relationship (although to what extent has yet to be determined) as to remind them that whatever game they were playing, it was all happening under his turf.

It seems that not even outside the estate, would you or Naoya escape his grasp.

"And… my nausea?" Desperately wanting to avoid the remembrance of Naobito, if just for a moment, your mouth blurts out this question, which coincidentally, was of high importance to you. "Is there something more… effective against it, besides tea?"

"I'm afraid not" he responds without giving your question a second thought, discarding your importance just as he’d consistently done throughout the entirety of the consultation. "Is too much of a risk to play in the hormonal field right now, besides, cramps and nausea are a natural occurrence for periods, so why go against nature?"

You hum, and then look to the ground, defeated. It’s not what your previous doctor told you, but what could you do about that?

…So much for obtaining a cure, but now you could at least say to your ladies and Naoaki that you tried once you returned to the estate, whom you know would inevitably tackle you with their concern as soon as you set foot into the grounds.

Their memory is one that manages to soothe, if just a tiny, miniscule fraction of your pain and fear, embracing you with the sensation of being wanted— cared for—which never came from your husband, not even now.

“So what— is there something good that I can… relay to my father?” Naoya asks, digging and searching through whatever it was that he could find to complete the first part of Ranta’s plan, even with his father unforeseen intervention—get a professional opinion to back up his pursuits when going back to the elders, whom he knew would be awaiting for him when he returned to the estate.

Ironic, in a way. Just how similar the two of you were. In your same fashion, Naoya also had people waiting for his return; however, only one group genuinely cared for him.

“She’s healthy” The man reiterates “Even if she’s far from where we want her to be, at least she’s no longer at the starting point—doesn’t mean I'd lower my guard, Zen’in-san. Some might think of this as an opportunity to… you know, test her condition”

You grit your teeth. Naoya swallows. But both wonder just how far the voices of his relatives had spread.

Yet, before either is able to wonder the depths of their interference, the doctor's chuckle interrupts them yet again.

“Or she might, who knows?” He jests, and after he deemed relayed all the information he believed to be relevant, the man beckons them through the door and onto the reception, requesting the employee to bill their payment according to the procedures completed, as well as opening a date for them for the following check up if so desired. Which the man had eerily presumed to be soon.

He doesn't say much after that, less when he catches sight of a prim, but slightly pale and undeniably nervous woman sitting by the waiting area, accompanied by a man on her left side who appeared to be miserable just by being there, which quickly reminded of another consultation to complete. 

Once bidding his farewells to your husband, he asks them to follow him, and you and your husband are left alone with the receptionist, an unpaid bill, and your thoughts, which didn’t leave the couple due to an uncanny sensation of familiarity. 

While Naoya prepared his payment, you decided to dig a little deeper behind these feelings, wasting no more than a few seconds to find the reason as to why you couldn’t stop thinking of them: because they reminded you of your marriage. It's almost as if your soul had left your body and we're now seeing your predicament to an outsider's eyes; a vision of how you believed to be perceived by others when they glanced at you. 

A woman, terrified of her companion whilst she carried a symptom that obviously brought her here, while the other couldn’t care less as to why he was there, just seeking an answer, offering no support.

Looks like people with the same putrid morals stick to one another as in a pack, and his office was to serve as some kind of refuge to them.

The thought is enough to sicken you, however, it quickly escapes your attention upon hearing the receptionist offering your husband farewells, and with it, signifying the end of this long-enough day.

Here you realize that even with all your obstacles, your visit wasn't as fruitless as you started to believe just a few seconds ago. 

You at least managed to find out that in the bigger picture, you were healthy. Everything seemed to be in order, on the right path, even if its destination was not one that you wanted.

But just because you were on its road didn’t mean you’d end up there. You’d take what you need, such as these declarations, relay them to those that are close and trustworthy to you, and do what you intended.

Whatever it was that Naoya planned to do with this outing, it escaped your interest. Although you could admit that you were upset by it.

Did he think that by his feigned interest, his words of attention sprinkled here and there, and how he attempted to care for you would be a step closer to getting to talk to him? Or worse, that you'd help him achieve a noble standing with his family?

Maybe there was some possibility with the last, but with the other, he was being nothing more than a fool, and you couldn’t be any happier that you were going back to the estate, to be away from him.

It was unusual, really. That you’d ever find comfort in going back to the wretched house that has done nothing but harbor your misery. But at this moment there’s nothing more than you’d wish for.

In fact, such was your eagerness to leave all of this behind, that you sprinted past the scorned man you called husband as soon as the door was unlocked and to the elevator, careless to see if he was following you, and fervently called the lift.

Such was your eagerness, your desperation, that your blood started to rush.

Your ears were ringing, your vision slightly blurry, as you continued onto your path of escape, your freedom, symbolically represented by the shiny, dark car.

But while this figure represented the door of your liberation, away from the presence that has been nothing but tormenting for you, the one behind you could not see the same safety you foresaw.

To him, it was the closing of an opportunity, one that was slipping through his fingers which he had to seize before it was too late.

He knew that if he didn’t take the chance, then it would be too late. You’d clench to your frigidity, and then, disappear. Dissipate into the confines of his home, into the grasp of your ladies, and naturally, the arms of his brother.

Naoya couldn’t let this finish, not this way, and certainly, not when he believed he still had much to fight for.

He had to act quick, he had to take drastic measures, and then, he did.

It was the one thing you wished to not hear during your outing, the one that silently horrified you, looming at the back of your mind throughout the day.

Such an harmless tactic, and yet, was tainted with nothing but pain and horror.

One that you thought to be saved from, away from reaching you, but would make a shocking return to the point of stopping you in your tracks, pulling the air out of your lungs as you hear him say:

"Want to get something to eat?"

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x your #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #series: first it hurts—

[patchesproblem]

formally requesting karl and joyce hcs once again 😌

though if you want things to be more specific,,,, maybe Thoughts about joyce's relationship with ein and tesla? or with karl in the AU for extra emotional damage

Writing this before I start writing the long paragraphs I have planned, so I'll update on my final 'what have I done' total soon.

To start off strong let's talk about Karl and Welt in the Main universe!

This is petty revenge for you reminding me of how hellish this game was last night Literally just a few minutes ago. </3 Don't worry, though. It's not too mind destroying. Yet.

Soon after Welt takes an L and 300,001 inhabitant of the HoR core I genuinely believe that Karl came looking for him. K

Not only because he was a new inhabitant of the core and might've been confused as to what was even happening, but because he wanted to meet him and thank him.

This'll sound weird, but hear me out. I assume Karl was aware of how much influence he had on Welt, and I assume he also knew what was happening outside to a certain degree. Because of his pure dad energy once Welt arrived he made himself known to him.

His reaction depends on whether or not he knew who Karl was (I don't remember if Einstein ever mentioned his name to him, idk), but once he realized I think he'd be terrified at first that he was there to beat his ass (as for why he'd be terrified, imagine your friends dead dad showing up as soon as you die. It isn't particularly comforting). Obviously, that's not the case, and instead Karl just tells him how proud he is of him.

He'd consider him his son, and would tell him that he was proud of everything he did, and how he managed to keep moving and how he never lost sight of his humanity. Would also say thank you for protecting everyone, and making sure that his daughter (Ein), her friend (Tes), and Emma were okay.

I feel like they'd talk with each other for awhile, and Welt would tell Karl about how far Einstein's come since he wasn't able to witness it for himself. He'd probably try to apologize for the eruption, but Karl wouldn't let him because he never blamed him. He views him as yet another innocent victim of the disaster, and never held anything against him. He'd pull out his psychology skills to try to help him realize that none of this was his fault, and that he couldn't have done anything to prevent it. He'd remind him that he's still a person no matter what his origins were. Even if he wasn't a human in the normal sense, he still had more compassion for others than most humans. He still fought to protect humanity despite their cruelty towards him, and Karl believes that he's done more than enough to prove himself to everyone.

Karl would basically become his dad at that point and would keep him company, and would probably introduce him to the other people within the core. I don't know. I just think that it'd be really sweet that even if Welt's life wasn't the best, the happiness he felt in the last few days of his short life continued beyond the grave. I want them to have their father son relationship even if they aren't technically alive anymore.

They'd bond over how much of a menace Einstein is and how she tormented them both at any chance she got. Though Karl would be terrified to learn that she's not still as bratty as ever, but that now she has an accomplice who's just as bad and that they actively make each other worse. Though he just loses his sanity upon hearing that not only do they make everyone's lives a living hell, they're also annoyingly gay and make everyone else suffer through it (He's very proud of her but is terrified. He already knows he'll lose his sanity once they're reunited again.)

Along with this I like to believe that Karl was with Welt all along. During his time as a lab rat I think he'd be there to comfort him and trying to make him feel better and to not give up. That's probably another reason that Welt was influenced by him the most due to him essentially being his 'inner voice' in a sense. I just think Karl would love him and consider him his son and be proud to say it. Living up to the Gustav name.

Also like to believe that Karl gave Welt the Gustav name, but he still kept Joyce in his name because he didn't want to lose the last remaining thing he had from Tesla. He either made it his middle name, or kept it has his last name and just has two last names.

He probably comforts Welt whenever he starts to miss Tesla and Einstein, and essentially gives him the therapy he desperately needed. He refuses to let him ever think that either of them hated him or blamed him for anything.

Anyways now for insanity and less depressing things.

I'll do what I did last time and section them these off based off of his relationships with Tesla and Einstein and then I'll do the entire trio because it'll be hellish otherwise.

Starting off with the besties who hate each other and want to throw each other off a roof but secretly care about each other more than anything and see each other as siblings but still want to kill each other.

Where do I even begin with these two.. They're terrible but I love them.

Starting off with a basic / kinda sad thing, they probably both understand each other on a basic level. Of course not completely, but they worry for each other. What I mean by this is mostly just because they both are clearly uh.. A bit.. Questionable mentally..

Tesla was worried about him when he first arrived (before she started threatening him over Einstein but hey a girls gotta have priorities ig.) Even at the end she was still worried about him and didn't want to see him hurting or in danger.

I feel like they'd silently help each other in a sense. Tesla silently forcing Welt to realize that he's cared about now and that he's not going to be hurt anymore (unless it's by her own hands). I've mentioned it before, but I feel like Tesla genuinely Does Care about him. She just doesn't like people getting close to her and she hates men just inherently doesn't trust people. Plus she afraid that she'd get sidelined by Einstein and pay more attention to him because she's a disaster but hey.

I like to think that even though it isn't shown much in the vn, I think that they hung out together often. I like to think she dragged him around often just to force him to see the light of day whenever Einstein was too busy ignoring both of them. I like to think that she also taught him a few sciencey-things and had him help her occasionally while working.

Welt's also Teslas rambling buddy. AKA he stays up to make sure she gets home alive at one in the morning when she's drunk and just listens to her ramble on and on when Einsteins asleep (which is always). Because of this rambling sessions he has learned the history of several different civilizations, philosophies, paintings / art works, weird space facts, alchemy things, and unfortunately enough for him, probably just how gay she is for her lab partner. Pray for him he just wants to read in peace. He's losing his sanity.

There's probably been a few times where she's just come home and started rambling on and on about how much she cares for the both of them and just threatens him until he says that he knows how much they care about him.

I think it'd be cute if they both secretly learn about the others interests in an attempt to be able to talk to each other about it even if they themselves are not interested. They're both questioning how the other just so happens to know so much about their interest but neither are smart enough to figure out what's really happening. Einstein is aware but she just doesn't say anything because it's funnier to watch them both get annoyed and get mad that they have 'such similar interests' despite the fact they're nothing alike.

I also think that after Tesla gave him his last name that he started reading works made by the author she took it from. I don't know why, I just think he knew the name must've had some sort of meaning to her and wanted to understand. I say this because she could've just made his last name "Dumbfuck" in a different language but she didn't.

This is going to go on the impression of 'Welt doesn't take an L within the first five seconds', but I think that once his birthday hits that she'd rope Einstein and Joachim in to throw him a party since he never got one before. Literally threatening everyone around her to make sure that it's perfect and then proceeds to deny having anything to do with it afterwards.

Also probably uses her salary to secretly buy him books and sneak them into his room without him knowing it.

This being said she still harasses him and bullies him half to death. She will continue her assault counter, and Einstein has a score board in their lab for how many times she's assaulted him.

Maybe she even has an 'assault jar' which is basically a swear jar but for assaults.

This is Einsteins feelings about the whole situation.

Moving on to Welt and Einstein. If you were expecting some sense of normalcy you are in for a surprise. She's just as bad as Tesla and we all know it. Though compared to Tesla and Welts friendship it's more kinda sane. Kinda. This sections probably going to be shorter than the other two just because I haven't really thought about them as much since their friendships explored more in the vn compared to the others. I'll throw a few of my misc. hc's at the end if I remember.

I'm not going to lie I think she was heavily interested in his existence and that's why he became their lab assistant specifically. Also wouldn't be surprised if Planck didn't play a part in getting him there. This is mainly just due to the fact yanno. Karl kinda took an L and Welt was the only remaining survivor. Obviously she wasn't interested in the 'I want to study your existence, lab rat' type of way, but more of a 'wow maybe I can finally figure out what happened and not have to suffer for the rest of my life not knowing what happened.'

Just like Tesla she relentlessly bullies him. This man can not get a break. Though the main difference is that because nobody can read her it's 30x more effective because it can either be a serious insult, or a joke, and you'll never know.

If he hadn't taken an L I think they would've been besties honestly. I know you asked for my hc's but I'm stealing your hc and you can not stop me (/lh). I think that she'd encourage him to get into astrology and probably help him out with it. Probably pull a few strings to help get him into university classes to get his degree so he can sit at the cool kids table (Teslas at the cool kids table just because she's too powerful and doesn't need a silly piece of paper). Also just miiight pull a few strings to get him a job just for the funsies. She's a bit questionable but hey, whatever works works yanno. Gotta do what you have to do sometimes.

Also they 100% just find the most random shit to do just to annoy and confuse Tesla to hell and back. The rock game was only the beginning, they will find the most obscure game or even make one up just for funsies. She will harass both of them equally. Have to keep balance somehow ig.

Now for the trio because dear god whoever thought putting these three together was a good idea just hates humanity.

Chaos trio. They're insane. They bully each other. They drive each other insane. 1/3 is homophobic only against the other two in particular. Gay rights for everyone except them.

Okay so it's hell on earth (/lh). They all get along and they're essentially those three friends who if you didn't know any better would think hated each other. They drag each other along for their shenanigans and support each other no matter what. They're ride or die, basically. Quite literally.

Einstein plays on both teams and will bully and harass them equally with no loyalties. The bullying is different between the two for obvious reasons, but it's bullying and harassment nonetheless.

I like to believe that Tes and Ein took Welt along with them whenever they were leaving to go investigate / study something (Under the assumption he lived for more than five seconds) just so he didn't have to stay alone.

Tesla drags them all along to go outside to spend time with each other under the guise of "I'm bored and want to talk to Lieserl. I guess you can come too" despite the fact she intentionally does it in front of him so she doesn't have to ask him herself and make it look like it's out of obligation.

All three of them basically full on become Joachims older siblings and treat him like he's their little sibling. They will spoil this child without any regrets or remorse. Though Welt's terrified of the other two watching him because they are the last people who should be near a kid.

OH AND Tesla continuously forces the three to take pictures together so that they can make a little photo album to keep.

Also they'd eventually get a cat just because. Hell on earth, truly.

Oh and none of them can cook. Nobody should be allowed near that kitchen yet somehow they are. Three walking disasters of human beings, truly.

I have so many more but I've been writing so long they've just. Escaped my mind and it's driving me insane. I'll remember them eventually and make another post but here's what I have rn

#honkai impact 3rd #lab 42 #frederica nikola tesla #lieserl albert einstein #welt joyce #karl gustav #patches rambles #nikolas posts

[fairydxll]

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | uh fighting? Lmk if anything.

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2124

𝐚/𝐧 ~ sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. But I'm back now!

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

<- previous chapter

After a couple of days, Rory kinda got used to her new "home." Since Tony didn't know how long it would be before they went back to California, and with Pepper gone, they decided it was best if Rory just took a break from school.

Rory did eventually grow to like her new room. She was not allowed to leave the current floor, so she basically just spent all of her time there. Tony was gone all day and didn't get home until very late at night, meaning Rory had to have food delivered. She didn't mind, though. She figured that if they end up staying, she'll be able to tell Tony what all the good restaurants are.

Tony never told her anything about why they were here with the exception of, "Daddy has business."

So in order to pass the time, Rory would read or watch movies. She even took up drawing which turned out to be something she isn't too bad at.

This morning, Tony was already gone by the time Rory got up, so she got dressed and migrated to the living area. She sat on one of the couches near the large window and began sketching the tall buildings surrounding her.

As she finished the shading on one of the skyscrapers, she peered back up to see a tall man with long, black hair dressed in what looked like a Halloween costume standing on the terrace. Rory put down her sketchbook and looked closer. He was very tall and had large, golden horns that decorated the top of his head. She had no clue as to why this man was standing outside of her window on her father's building.

Rory looked to her right and noticed her father, in the Iron Man suit, land on the landing pad. The man just stood there, watching as machines swiftly removed the armor from Tony's body.

The strange man made his way into the room from the balcony. The room she was in. Rory didn't know what to do. She was frozen, scared. Instead of running away as any sane person would, Rory remained in her chair.

The large man entered the room. He studied his surroundings, his eyes eventually landing on Rory. "Who might you be?" He asked with disdain.

Rory could do nothing but blink at him, too afraid to speak. He opened his mouth to say more, only to be interrupted by the presence of Tony. "Rory, come here," Tony said blankly.

Rory immediately dropped her things and ran to her father's side. Tony wrapped his arm around her protectively, hoping to shield her with his body.

The man watched this all happen before finally speaking, "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." He spoke as if she weren't there.

"Actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony responded. Rory couldn't sense any different emotions other than his natural sarcastic tone.

"You should have left your armor on for that," the man bantered, walking closer to Tony and Rory.

"Yeah," Tony pushed Rory behind the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." Rory crouched down below the bar and pulled her knees into her chest. She couldn't help but let tears stain her cheeks, afraid of what was happening. "Would you like a drink?" Tony asked the man as he walked behind the bar, actively trying to ignore you in hopes you wouldn't become a target.

Rory heard the other man laugh. "Stalling me won't change anything," he said. If Rory knew what it meant, she would describe their conversation as passive-aggressive.

"No, no. threatening." Tony began making himself a drink. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." His words sounded like gibberish to Rory. "What have I to fear?"

Rory watched her father casually make a drink as if nothing was wrong. "The Avengers. That's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team." Rory had no idea what he was going on about. ""Earth's mightiest heroes"-type thing."

"Yes, I've met them."

"Yea," Tony's smile helped calm Rory down. He had to have the situation under control, right? "It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-god," demi-god? "A super-soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend." He secretly slipped a metal-looking band on each wrist.

"A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella," none of his words were making any sense. "You've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan," Tony walked past you and out from the bar. "When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk."

Rory finally gathered enough courage and stood up carefully. She peeked her head over the bar to watch the men while also trying to stay out of the way. Tony was approaching the man as they spoke; the man keeping his ground.

"I thought the beast had wandered off," the man said.

"You're missing the point. There's no throne," Tony's voice rose slightly. "There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

Tony took a sip of his drink while the man took a few steps closer, a scowl spreading across his features. "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

For the first time since this scene began, Tony looked scared. The man brought his scepter-looking thing up and tapped it against Tony's chest with a clang noise. The man's face dropped for a second before he tried a second time, and then a third. "This usually works."

Tony didn't look scared anymore. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five--" his sentence was cut short when the man forcefully grabbed Tony's throat and threw him onto the floor. Rory squealed and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man turned his head in Rory's direction with a puzzled look. He turned away from her as soon as Tony stood up and went for his neck again. "You will all fall before me," he said.

"Deploy!" Tony called before the man threw him out the window, shattering the glass. Rory screamed with all her might. Did she just watch her Dad be murdered? What was he going to do to her?

Rory hid behind the bar once more, watching and listening closely to her surroundings. A loud sound rippled through the room causing Rory to throw her hands over her ears to block out the noise. She peeked over the bar and saw nothing but more shards of glass and broken furniture.

The man stared Rory down. "Who are you?"

Rory gulped, "who are you?"

He chuckled. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I'm surprised you have not yet heard of me." His tone was a lot softer with her than it was with her father. "What is your name, little one?"

"Rory," she nervously answered his question. "My name is Rory."

"Let me guess; Stark's child?" She didn't say anything. Rory simply nodded. "Ah I see," he gave you an almost heartwarming smile. "Come here, Rory."

Fearing she had no other choice, Rory walked over to Loki and he crouched down to meet her gaze. He smiled at her. Rory watched her father fly up behind him. She was more than thrilled to see her father alive and more tears fell from her eyes.

"And one more thing," Loki's face dropped and he spun around to face Tony. "Get away from my daughter!" Tony shot at Loki, sending him flying backward. Rory jumped out of the way, too stunned to do anything else. With Loki knocked out, Tony looked towards his daughter, "Rory go hide, now!" He flew away into the sky, and Rory wasted no time in running to her bedroom.

She slammed the door shut and locked it. She looked around her room for anything that she could put in front of the door to make it harder to reach her. Rory tried to move the couch, but it was no use. It was too heavy for a ten-year-old to manage. She tugged on her roots as she spotted her desk chair. Once it was securely tucked under the knob, Rory ran over to her window to watch what was unfolding.

Rory couldn't help herself as she began to sob. She was afraid and she was alone. There was nothing she could do to help. Tons of thousands of aliens flooded the skies and streets of New York as Rory sat up in her bedroom, watching. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she pressed her face and hands into the large window.

More loud noises were flowing from the living area into Rory's bedroom and Rory could do nothing to stop them. She hoped that the man who called himself Loki was gone and that her Dad was alright.

At this moment, Rory really felt like a child. She felt small and helpless. Lonely and afraid. There was nothing else she could do except watch. She had no clue as to what she was watching either, which was not making her feel any better.

At long last, the aliens seemed to dissipate and things seemed to calm down. It looked to Rory like the fight was over. But who won?

Rory was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of her father's voice calling her name. She nearly sprinted out. She ran up to Tony and engulfed him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. He was still in his suit and covered in dirt, but neither seemed to mind.

"I was afraid," Rory murmured into his neck.

"I know, bubs." They pulled away from the hug and Rory got the chance to really see the other people in the room.

There was a giant-sized man with green skin, a man with a shield, a man with a bow and arrow, a man with a red cape and long hair, and what looked like Natalie, only with shorter hair. They looked odd. As if they were straight out of a movie. She noticed Loki in handcuffs. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Rory didn't really know what he did, but she knew he lost and her dad won.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tony held a silver case in one hand and Rory's in the other as he walked alongside the other Avengers waiting to send Loki away. Tony had made it very clear that from now on, Rory would not be leaving his side.

Rory let go of her Dad's hand to let him deal with the case. Thor, as he had told Rory to call him, led Loki a few feet away from everyone else. He waited for Loki to grab hold of the glass container for the Tesseract. Before she knew it, the pair had disappeared in a storm of blue.

Once everything else was settled, Tony reached for Rory's hand again and walked her over to the rest of the Avengers. "Rory there's some people I'd like you to meet," he motioned to the team. "That's Capsicle, Legolas, Jolly Green, and the Triple Imposter. This is Rory." The others shook their heads at Tony's nicknames.

"Steve," the tall, blonde man smiled and Rory shook his hand.

"Bruce," the shorter man with grey hair politely smiled and waved.

"Yea," Nat showed you a friendly smile to which you returned. "Nice to finally meet you, officially."

"And I'm Clint," the last man with spiky hair and sunglasses introduced himself.

"Hi," you said, shyly and waved at them all.

"Bubs, you go wait in the car I'll be there in a sec," said Tony.

"Okay. It was nice meeting you all!" You said as you walked to the car.

"You ready to go, kiddo?" Tony asked as he got in the car and fastened his seatbelt.

"Are we going home? Like, back to Malibu?" you asked as he started the car and pulled out.

"Yea," he smiled. "I think we deserve a break."

"What about the tower?"

"We're working on it. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Good," you sighed

"Good?"

"I don't mind it anymore. I don't think it would be so bad if we moved here."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

Next chapter ->

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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#tony stark #avengers 2012 #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #marvel loki #loki laufeyson #avengers tower #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #steve rogers #dreamy clousds #thor odinson #pepper potts #pepper potts x tony stark #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #mcu peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #tony stark x stark!reader #tony stark fanfiction #peter parker series #tony stark series #marvel series #— ✎ txt

[kabira]

02 | team project

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — this is a little rushed, sorry ;-; i haven’t updated in two weeks despite only having posted the pilot so i was like !! ahh !! gotta update !! and here it is, your first ever (and very brief) appearance. i’ll edit it soon! as usual, send me an ask or dm if you want to be added to the taglist <3

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

“Is this about me leaving Rhino on Midtown’s front porch?” Vernon demanded. “Because if it is, I’ll have you know that I left him in good hands—”

 "Calm down, Wonder Kid," Fury said. He didn't look amused like Vernon had hoped, which meant that whatever he'd come here to talk about was serious. Well, what else should he have expected from the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.? "It's not about that. Well—not entirely. It's about the good hands you mentioned."

Vernon narrowed his eyes. He'd met Fury a few times before, and never during favorable conditions. The last time he's seen the guy, Spider-Man had almost been pummeled to death by none other than the Goblin himself. "They said something about bringing him to S.H.I.E.L.D.," he muttered. "I should have guessed."

Fury didn't respond, instead reaching inside his jacket to bring out an envelope. He threw the open envelope onto the table in front of Vernon, making a few pictures half spill out from inside. "You know what that is?"

Vernon glanced at him suspiciously before slowly picking up the pictures and going through them. Each of them was a glossy shot of various locations in New York, and all of them had a major recurring theme—the places were completely trashed. Overturned cars, building walls with holes in them, bent lampposts. Wearily, he set the pictures down face-up on the table, then looked up at the man, who stared back with an unreadable expression on his face.

A beat passed. "Was that a rhetorical question?"

"Jesus, kid," Fury muttered. "All of those pictures were taken moments after a fight between you and one of your fanclub members. Now, I'm not saying I don't appreciate you taking care of a couple of minor criminals in the city—"

"Minor criminals?"

"—but I can't let you treat the place like it's your neighborhood playpen," he finished. Next to him, the pretty agent-slash-counselor sat with her legs folded, her surprisingly stern gaze fixed on Vernon. The attention made him squirm. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a global defense organization, for god's sake. We don't have the time to clean up after kids who don't know even know their three Rs."

"Let me guess," Vernon said, "rock, roll, ramble?"

"Even your wisecracks aren't funny anymore, kid." Fury shook his head.

Ouch. "That hurt my feelings."

The man glared at him out of his one good eye. "You can't keep going like this forever," he said. "You're on your way to be one of the greats—don't look at me like that, hell if I'm gonna repeat that—but the big guys take care of their messes. They don't leave poor innocent civilians behind to get new paint jobs on their Kias. All that damage your careless fighting left behind, who's gonna take care of that?"

"Insurance?" Vernon suggested. Agent Fox cracked a smile, warming his insides. Her sitting aside in silence as Fury chewed him out was a little unnerving. He wondered if looking on silently while high-rankers lectured kids was something she had to do regularly. You gotta have a heart of ice to sit through that.

"You are," Fury said grimly, and Vernon blinked. "And you're gonna start today."

"What was it that you really wanted?" Vernon asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making his t-shirt stretch tight over his biceps. He really needed to go shopping. "You can't tell me the world's best spy came all the way to some backwater high school just to lecture a kid about cleanliness being next to godliness."

"You're a special case, Parker," Fury said, and Vernon placed a hand over his heart, mockingly going aw. "And you're right. I'm not here just to lecture you about your repeated careless mistakes, I'm here to help you fix them."

Vernon looked at him suspiciously, already wary of what was to come next. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"You've already shown me multiple times you can't do it yourself," Fury said. "Look, kid, here's the thing: you have a problem, and I have a problem. I also happen to have a joint solution to both."

Vernon slumped in his chair. Here it comes. "What problem could you possibly have? Nuclear warheads threatening to destroy civilians' Kias in Manhattan?"

"You really gotta work on those one-liners." Fury sighed. "There's a group of kids in the Helicarrier like you—up-and-coming superheroes in need of some real-world experience. They've got the training you need to handle jobs with efficiency, and you have the practical experience. They've got the goods—just like you—but nowhere real to practice them."

"You mean those guys," Vernon said, sitting up and recalling the three who had helped him in the fight against Rhino. "You mean—you want me to teach them?"

"I want you to work with them," Fury said. "Train with them, fight with them, lead what could be the next greatest team of post-humans."

"So basically, your solution is to sic a bunch of newbies on me as some kind of damage control," Vernon said angrily. "And what if I refuse?"

"Nothing," the spy answered simply. "You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official jurisdiction yet, so I can't do anything to you even if I want to—unless, of course, I absolutely have to. You're allowed to walk out of here right now, but I can't guarantee that that's gonna work out for you."

Vernon considered this. He knew a threat when he heard one, even when it wasn't a yell of SPIDER-MAN, I'M GONNA KILL YOU, but he also knew that Nick Fury's threats weren't always real threats. However, he did not like his chances.

"As long as they stay out of my business," he muttered, knowing that was the one thing they were least likely to do. He knew how closely teams operated, and it didn't take his spider sense to figure out that this team was going to be much nosier than that. He recalled the annoyed scowl on that Nova guy's face, and internally shuddered.

"It's a deal," Fury said pleasantly, as if Vernon had any choice but to accept the so-called 'deal'. "I'll be checking in regularly, so bear in mind that I'll know if you ever kill one of your teammates and throw their body into the East River."

"I would never go to that much trouble," he replied equally pleasantly, getting up. Then he glanced at the clock, and scowled. "I can't believe you made me skip my biology quiz for five minutes of parental guidance."

"Oh, I'd never lie to a teacher, kid," Fury said, patting his shoulder as he passed him. "A counseling session I promised, and a counseling session you will get."

Vernon glanced at the other agent in dismay, but she only smiled—whether in amusement or reassurance, he couldn't tell. She clicked her pen, picking up the pad, her eyes twinkling. "Settle down, Spider-Man," she said. "This will only take forty minutes."

Vernon almost considered opting out of eating in the cafeteria, but changed his mind at the last moment, knowing it was the only time other than first period biology he got to see Joshua on Mondays. He desperately needed to vent, and his bespectacled friend was the only one who even came close to understanding to the layers of his identity, one of which was a deep-rooted hatred for the universal authority on superheroes.

So he stalked right into lunch, barely noticing the gunk of whatever-it-was thwacking into his plastic tray, and headed for their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. He didn't need to go that far to get to Joshua, however, as the blue-haired boy almost walked smack into him as he made his way there.

"Woah, woah, steady," Joshua said, grabbing his bicep to prevent them from colliding. "Why are you making like a steamroller towards that innocent little table? And what the hell were you during biology? What was that about?"

Vernon cast a careful glance around the cafeteria, at the crowd of people, one of which could easily overhear them in the close range. "I'll give you the details later," he murmured. "The cusp of the matter is: Fury blackmailed me into signing up for a team activity."

"Wait, wait, wait, Nick Fury?" Joshua asked in awe as they walked over to the table, gripping his tray tightly and hunching his shoulders, leaning slightly towards Vernon in interest. "You mean he was here, in this school?"

"Not even the first time, Josh."

"Not the—" Joshua shook his head, as if shooing away the thoughts. "Okay. Filing that information away for further perusal later. So you're telling me Nick Fury, super-spy, came to this place—" he spread his arms, indicating the school— "to talk to you. Man, sometimes I forget Spider-Man's supposed to be a household name."

"Shut up," Vernon hissed, casting a furtive glance at a heavily tattooed blonde who passed them by closely. "But yeah. And he asked me to team up with these noobs from the S.H.I.E.L.D. future program or something."

Joshua frowned. "But that's kind of cool, though, right?"

"Not if they're gonna slow me down," he replied. "Spider-Man's always operated alone, and—wait, what the hell?"

He stopped in his tracks right before the table, a stunned expression on his face. Joshua raised his eyebrows, following his gaze to the table, which was, surprisingly enough, already occupied.

She was there, of course, at her usual seat, the third from the left, except she was not alone. There was another girl, with dark hair and piercing eyes, picking at a soggy fry with her lips pursed. Next to her was a brooding blond with freckles that stood out against his shockingly pale skin. Last, but not the least, was the boy with the tanned skin who was making Vernon's best friend laugh so hard she was doubled over, a familiar cocky edge to his smile.

"Ah," Joshua said.

Lucy Langdon was one of Vernon's, and therefore Spider-Man's, biggest pressure points. She was also one of the only ones who had been left virtually untouched by all his superhero shenanigans, and he wanted to keep it that way. Though she was smart enough keep up with a few new trainees, as far as Vernon was concerned, she was strictly off-limits. Even to superheroes who could fly and called themselves Nova.

Vernon stalked over to the table and slammed his tray on the surface so hard he made everyone jump. Then he glared at the boy sitting next to her, the one with the bronzed skin, as Joshua stood by awkwardly. "You're in my seat," he said pointedly.

The boy cocked a lazy eyebrow, gesturing to the unoccupied seats opposite him. "I don't see your name on it."

Vernon ground his teeth, raising his hand (no doubt to petulantly slam it down on the table next to his tray) but Joshua grabbed his wrist, giving him a meaningful look. "Don't start anything that can be easily avoided," he muttered to the boy, and Vernon relented, albeit grudgingly.

"You're late," Lucy said conversationally, though your voice was higher than usual, probably because of the sudden tension that had descended upon the table. Vernon sat down slowly, still glaring at the boy, and she glanced at Joshua, who only shrugged. "These are, uhm, they're new."

"I figured," Vernon muttered.

"Three in one day? And this late into the year?" Joshua wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows. "Now I'm curious."

"Nothing worth your curiosity, I'm afraid," the new girl replied. Her eyes, when they swept over Vernon, were watchful and aware. "Just a coincidence. I was supposed to join earlier but there was a family emergency. As for these two, I can only guess." Her smile was small but sharp. "I'm Yeji."

"Felix," said the blond. He looked gloomy, but maybe it was just because of the unhealthy-looking pallor of his skin.

"And I'm Yangyang," the last boy said, with an impish grin that rubbed Vernon the wrong way. He already knew who these three were supposed to be—actually, everyone was supposed to know Felix, since Iceman was already a pretty famous member of the X-Men. Surely dyed hair couldn't be the only change needed to disguise that face? "Me and Felix are cousins, actually."

"Felix and I," Vernon mumbled under his breath, and Lucy gave him a look which he ignored. "Since when did you start taking people in for charity?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Be nice," she said. "They were in my Home Economics class, and if it hadn't been for Yeji here, I might have blown up the marble cake I was supposed to be making."

Joshua frowned. "How?"

"A story for another day." She smiled an unreadable smile, dark eyes sparkling. "Now—"

"No," Vernon said.

She glanced at him. "Excuse me?"

"No," he repeated. Then, as jerkily as he had sat down, he got up, and jabbed a finger at the new arrivals in turn, before pointing over his shoulder. "You three," he said venomously, "to the corridor. Now."

"Aw, man, I can't believe you're being so sensitive about this," Yangyang—Nova—complained loudly, though there was a shit-eating grin on his face as he followed Vernon into the hallway. "So Fury transferred us into your school without checking with you first. Big deal. What are you supposed to be, the queen of England?"

Vernon gave him a spiteful look, but otherwise ignored his remark. Instead, he focused on Yeji, who was watching him patiently, because she looked like the most sensible member of the group. He stared at her for a long moment, struggling to find the words that would convey the exact measure of his indignance. "Why?" he asked finally, giving up.

She shrugged helplessly. "Look, we didn't ask for this, either," she answered. "We're under orders, so it's not like we can just up and leave. Huddling in the hallway isn't a smart decision, either—we already have all eyes on us because of being the three new kids who randomly joined on the same day, and this is only making us look even more suspicious."

Vernon glared at her, trying to think of a good argument, then gave up. He turned on Felix, who was standing off to the side with folded arms, still looking uninterested in the conversation. "You," he said, narrowing his eyes, "you're Iceman."

Felix looked at him neutrally. "Yes."

"You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.," Vernon said, pointing an accusatory finger. "And you have enough real-world experience, so there's no reason for you to be here instead of with the X-Men—"

"Dude," Felix said frostily; no pun intended. "Drop it."

Yeji nodded, giving Vernon a meaningful look he could not decipher.

"Aw, come on, web-head," Yangyang interjected. "We saved your life and you didn't even thank us, but I'll let that go since your manners aren't exactly polished. But this is just boring."

"It is not," Vernon seethed. "I'll talk to Fury—"

Yangyang snorted. "Good luck with that."

"—or the principal—"

"The new principal," Yeji muttered. "Agent Coulson."

Vernon made an exasperated noise. "The only reason I even agreed to Fury's stupid offer was because I thought it would get him off my case!" he yelled. "School is the only part of my life that's separate from all the wacky crap I have to deal with otherwise, and now even that—" He clenched his teeth. "If I'd known it meant having you people barge into my life like this—"

"Then you couldn't have done anything about it, even knowing," Yeji said, gently cutting him off. "Face it, hero. You're stuck with us as much as we're stuck with you—whether any of us like it or not."

#kwritersworldnet #caratwritersclub #svtcreations #seventeen #svt #vernon #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #svt x reader #spiderman #marvel #spiderman x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #vernon fluff #vernon angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #seventeen x you

[monbeauloup]

Where all the poets go to die || 𝖂𝖔𝖑𝖋𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗

Summary: Remus and Sirius write each other letters, while he’s in Azkaban.

Warnings: none

A/N: This is a fanfiction, which will be multiple chapters long. You might want to follow me for updates. I would also greatly appreciate some feedback or your thoughts on my writing in general.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

(𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏)

Remus never felt so completely and utterly lost in his whole life before. He didn’t intend to tell anyone about the part, that’s tearing him apart and yet he’s sitting on the soft cushion of a chair, that belongs to no one other than the Weasleys. Like now, in quiet moments of reflection, he feels tears spring into the corner of his eyes and he quickly wipes away the ones, that have unknowingly begun to fall down his face. The room is silent, except for a kettle, which is quietly cooking on the kitchen stove. Through the open window, he can smell the cold autumn wind. It drifts over his head and when he closes his eyes, he comes up. Again and again, he comes to him and the once loved memories, the ones he now so despises, come crashing over him and ripple throughout his body.

"I never felt about anyone, the way i feel about you," Sirius says, thumb caressing Remus' cheek as they lie on the bed in their shared apartment. He’s tucked into Sirius' lap, resting his head against his chest how he did on that fateful day. "Nothing in the universe will ever tear us apart."

How wrong Sirius had been, Remus thinks. Swallowing, his eyes close tightly and he tries to find a way to drown his thoughts out. Sirius is gone and all he left him with is his crumpled heart. How could he join Voldemort’s side and betray both James and Lily? It feels as if he’s always on the verge of waking up from a bad dream and sometimes, when it all becomes unbearable, he thinks about giving up. Falling apart at the seams, knowing he’ll never be who he once was, but there’s a whole other side that he’s desperately holding on to. The part he fell in love with. The side of him that created a ‘happily ever after’ in his head. But then the realization hits. The realization, that it’s all been an act. He loves and was never loved back and the hardest part of this process is trying to reconcile the two seemingly polarised sides.

Before he was alone. Distracted by his own thoughts and emotions, but now, two figures stand by, observing quietly from the shadows. Molly Weasley gazes down upon him with concern and quiet understanding. The wonder of what to say lives in her mind. She startles slightly, as the teakettle begins to whistle and a few seconds later, the face of her husband comes into sight. Remus seems slowly return to reality, as Arthur Weasley kneels down with a cup of freshly brewed tea and eyes him worryingly.

“Remus -”

The silence lingers, the voice numbing his senses. He glances around before reaching for the cup.

“Thank you.. Arthur,” Remus whispers.

The tea soothingly warms him from the inside and it’s almost too much. He has gotten so used to the newfound cold within.

“Are you alright? Is there something you need?” The concern drips in Molly’s voice and Remus frowns. His wounded self screams at the back of his head. They don’t understand. He’s been hurt in ways, he never excepted to be hurt and there’s no way out.

“I’m fine,” he mutters instead. A sad smile curving his lips.

Molly just continues to look him concerningly due to her well known nurturing and caring nature. She and Arthur give each other a silent look and a nod before she leaves and Arthur takes seat in the chair opposite from Remus.

“You have to make something out of all these feelings within you,” Arthur speaks up. His voice is silent and raw and the fact that he sees him in such a vulnerable state, makes Remus' heart swell.

“Have you thought about writing him a letter?”

Remus takes a while to answer, too taken aback by his suggestion. A letter? How could he factor all his anger and frustration into just a mere letter? Besides, Sirius doesn’t care. He never cared. He took everyone down with him and did it on purpose.

“Well... i don’t know how,” Remus finally says with a shake of his head.

He feels Arthur’s big and warm hand on his arm, grounding him. His dark blue eyes full of concern.

“Write to him.”

Remus eyes stay fixed on him, feeling that Arthur isn’t wiling to let this go. He notices a tightness throughout his body and he didn’t even realize, that he had been tensing up and holding his breath.

“He betray-” Remus stops mid sentence. His heart pounding in his chest and tears burning in his eyes. “You don’t think there’s a chance that he could be innocent, do you?”

Arthur clears his throat. “I refused to believed it at first, but witnesses saw him... twelve Muggles.. an extremely powerful explosive curse....”

To hear it out loud, makes Remus fall still, eyes slowly closing.

“You have to free some of the anger and hurt, that lingers inside you. I can see it’s killing you,” Arthur says in a soft voice.

Remus looks up and nods, knowing that it’s true. He knows that Arthur is right and that all the memories inside his heart could break him in half. Shatter him.

“If there’s a way, i’ll write him. I’m sorry for -”

“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for,” Arthur interrupts him, while he shifts slightly in his chair. “Prisoners are usually not permitted to correspond with the outside world, but i'll talk to Dumbledore. You can use Asora, our owl, as well. Don't hesitate to ask us anything.”

Remus heart almost burst with untold affection for this man. “Thank you. For everything,” he says.

The slight hint of a smile he receives in return, makes him forget everything for a mere few seconds and Remus knows to treasure it well. Sincere or forced, it mattered little — The gesture was appreciated all the same.

“Anytime.”

He feels his heart unclench. A few minutes of silence pass by, until Remus gently nods towards the door.

“I better be leaving. It’s been a long day.”

He gets up off the chair and before he heads out the door, he gives Arthur a quick hug.

"Say thank you to Molly for me."

"I'll. Just keep holding on, Remus. We’re waiting for you."

With a tiny hint of a smile on his lips, he slips through the doorway and lets the sweet cold air reach his lungs. Arriving at home, alone, he warms himself in front of the fireplace, where a bright and cozy fire burns. It’s been a long day and all he wants, is some peace and quiet, but Remus feels a restlessness he can’t shake. Nothing is bothering him. No sound, no smell, nothing. Everything is calm, except him. Slowly, his eyes drift to his writing desk. Though his body doesn’t want to move, keeping still seems an impossible task. Finally, he just gives up, sits down at his desk and pulls out a jar of ink and some paper.

~*~

To Sirius Black

November 12th 1981

It’s almost impossible to forget you.

Your absence and betrayal is the most painful thing i had to ever go through. Being so close and watching you disappear hurts the most. James and Lily are dead because of you. How could you, Sirius? I’ve been lied to by the person, who has always treated me with the most daring respect, who listened to my interests and even for a little while, made me feel and know love in a way that no one else ever has. How could i’ve been so blind? I can’t take it anymore. I wish to depart so far and free. Is it easier to stay? Is it easier to go?

Truth is, shatter my heart and soul, i never wish to see you again. Sometimes, i long to feel the same one more time, but it hurts. My soul is frozen and there’s no sun to warm it.

You weren’t just a star to me, you were my whole damn sky.

I love you, but i hate you so much. You’re nothing but a liar, making us think that the friendship and love we shared was real and then you turn your back on us and betray us in such a vile manner. Your sins will never be forgotten.

Everything reminds me of you. Your scent is a sweet felony. Sometimes i wonder, if i'll ever fall in love again. I wonder what it would look like. How would i act? Is it the same as the first time? Or more cautious? I’m curious. I have this feeling, that i want to feel it again, but i don't at the same time. I’ve been hurt so deeply and i wish you a lifetime of coming to terms with the pain you caused. I hope you can live with yourself, even though i wish you’re constantly reminded of what you’ve done.

Farewell, Sirius.

Remus

There's a sinking feeling in his chest as he finishes the letter. For a while, he remains emotionless in his seat, while he processes every syllable.

His own words bring him to tears and suddenly it all seems too blurred in the way that his heart sinks everytime he thinks of Sirius in their bed. Waiting for someone who will never be his, who will never come to him. He picks the letter, reads it a second time and his salty tears burn the little scar, that rests on his chin. He goes to bed on an empty stomach that night, crying until his pillows are soaked.

#marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #molly weasley #arthur weasley #wolfstar #padfoot x moony #azkaban #harry potter

[hegodamask]

I think you've already talked about this before but I couldn't find the post on your Tumblr, so I was just wondering what your process was for making animated gifs. Like what methods you use to make them, what software you use, etc? Also, what parts do you find most fun or difficult or challenging? I've started making some animated gis, and while I don't know if I'll ever be nearly as prolific as you are, I was interested in learning more about them.

Oh hey! Thank you!! I don’t think I’ve ever gone through the process of how I make gifs in detail before, mainly because I don’t use Photoshop so I just assume my advice won’t be helpful to anybody. I don’t know how helpful this will be to you, but I’ve done a little step by step walkthrough of how I make a gif with a few general pointers thrown in. I was gonna try and keep it brief but it turned out much longer…..sorry.

I’ve put what I find most difficult and fun at the end, so you can just skip to that if you want.

As for the rest, here goes….

So, background: I taught myself how to make gifs using Serif Photoplus X2 because we used their products in highschool. Then a few years later, I updated to Photoplus X7 (made hardly any difference though). Serif doesn’t even make the Photoplus range anymore (they still sell X8 but it’s rubbish and crashes a lot, and their new product Affinity doesn’t even let you make gifs!). I’ve tried to use Photoshop in the past and everyone says it’s better, but I’m stuck in my ways like the stubborn old woman I am.

Anyways, when I want to make a gif I start off by capturing screenshots for the frames. I’ve always used GOM Player and their “Burst Capture” option to do this. GOM Player lets you choose the format your images are saved as and where you want the frames saved to. I have a special “captures” folder for temporarily storing the files in. So for example, these are my frames:

A good general tip for making gifs with any software is to use the best quality video you can find. Most of the stuff I make is with 1080p or 720p quality. I find it helps when it comes to colouring and making the gif look clearer.

Once I have my captures, I copy them into my animation “canvas” (or SPP file) which has a base colouring I’ve already made on it. It’s kind of like a PSD on Photoshop. I select my captures and drag them onto the canvas which looks like this:

The canvas is 1080p, the same as the captures but everything will be resized later. I originally captured 100 screenshots here, but I’ve decided to use only 40 in the end because I want to make a 540px width gif. If I used all 100 frames for a 540px gif it would end up being way over the 3mb limit and it wouldn’t work on Tumblr.

Now this is where the time consuming work comes in for me. Once my captures have been copied into the SPP file, they actually become layers which I have to turn into gif frames (if that makes sense). So at the moment they look like this

But I don’t have any actual frames yet at the bottom of the screen. So what I do next is go to the layers tab at the top of the screen and click “hide layers”, making them all invisible

Then basically what I do next is create a frame at the bottom and assign an individual capture to it by clicking the little grey square (making it visible again). So as you can see, my first frame is for my first capture/layer. The next frame will be the capture/layer on top of that.

So yeah, that means I create each frame individually. It’s veeery time consuming but you get quicker at it the more you do it (it’s also faster to do on a laptop touch pad rather than a mouse.). 

Once I’ve created all my frames, I reselect the colouring layers at the top so they’re visible on every frame. It should look like this

Next, you need to crop your gif and resize it. I want my gif to be 540px by 270px so I put 54.00 and 27.00 into the crop feature to get it accurate. This allows me to crop the canvas into the right dimensions.

Once I’ve cropped the canvas, I then go to the Image tab at the top and click “Image Size…” and set the image size to 540px by 270px. I usually ignore the Print Size bit.

540px is the best size for a full width Tumblr gif, anything bigger or smaller will make your gif look blurry. This gifset is a good guide for making sure Tumblr doesn’t blur or crop your gifs.

My gif is almost ready to be exported. But I want it to look clearer, so I sharpen all the layer/captures (yes, individually again). I have no settings for sharpening, but I find using the standard “Sharpen” effect under the “Effects” tab is enough. 

Once I’ve sharpened everything, I get to the colouring and exporting which is the biggest challenge for me. Photoplus’ options for exporting gifs are limited, so the only decent export options are these

“Web-safe” and “Ordered” makes the gif look like this

“Optimized” and “None” makes it look like this. Okay, but the background looks low quality and patchy

“Optimized” and “Error Diffusion” is the only one that to me, looks the best quality. That’s probably why it produces the bigger file size too (the gif below is 2.78mb)

But there’s other downsides to Error Diffusion which I’m still trying to figure out to this day.  Like how it makes parts of the gif “glitch” (that’s the only way I can describe it) or look extra fuzzy. The only way you can fix it is by playing around with the colouring. And by “playing” I mean adjusting and previewing until you want gouge ur eyes out :)

I think that’s why I like giffing The Terror so much, because the film they used has a grainy texture to it, making it easier to hide all my Error Diffusion sins. Though there’s been many times I’ve posted something and hoped no one’s noticed all the mistakes. 

Some general tips for colouring

Unless you’re going for a certain effect, emphasise on the colours that are already in the shot. In my gif  above for example, I turned up the blues and cyans.

Use Levels or Curves instead of Brightness and Contrast.

Zoom in on your gif to spot any Error Diffusion glitches.

Be mindful about whitewashing POC, especially if you’re following the pastel gif trend.

Look at how other people colour their gifs and use PSDs for reference but don’t rely on them too much.

Colouring can increase or decrease the gif file size. If you need to get below 3mb, try toning down super vibrant colours. If the shot you’re giffing is dark, make it a bit darker. If it’s light, make it a bit lighter. 

If all else fails, just make the gif black and white.

Reading all this back makes how I make gifs look like a nightmare lmao. But I’ve been doing it this way since like, 2012 and i love it. I started out making very bad Star Wars and Lady Gaga gifs but as time has gone on and I’ve gotten better, I’ve found I enjoy making things for smaller fandoms much more. I like that if I want a certain set or edit on my blog, I can just go and make it (with varying degrees of success) instead of waiting for someone else to do it.

You appreciate the work that goes into making a movie or show when you make gifs too. Like, you notice subtle little things in the actors performances or something the cinematography is trying to convey. You get to revisit a scene in detail and then share it with everybody else and if you’re lucky, watch them scream in the tags get some nice comments.

There’s lots of other stuff I like about making gifs but I’ve rambled on far too much so I’m just gonna shut up for now. But I think I’ve covered all the important stuff. I don’t know how much of a help I’ve been (there’s still stuff I don’t understand myself) but if there’s anything else you want to know just drop me a message. Good luck with your own gifs!! I’m sure you can do  a much better job than me!

#Ask #unspeakablehorror #phew! this is a full on essay i'm sorry #gif making #Serif Photoplus #photoplus #long post

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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George was lounging in the warm bath water, trying to use breathing exercises to clear her mind and calm herself. It had been a long day, capping off a long almost-month inside the Supernatural Universe. There were so many questions she couldn't answer and she wished she could turn her brain off; focus on anything else.

"George?" She heard Dean's muffled call from the other side of the bathroom door. "You OK in there?"

"Yea," She answered quietly. "Just humiliated," She added with an eye roll.

"Don't sweat it," Came his unusually sympathetic reply. "We've all been there, or somewhere similar… or somewhere worse," He added off handedly, taking another bite of pie. It occurred to him suddenly that the two of them were alone and Dean had a thought. After a moment's hesitation, he swallowed his bite of pie and called timidly, "George?"

"Yea?" She responded curiously, her voice raised slightly to compensate for the sound barrier. There was such a long pause with no answer that she wondered if it had just been her imagination. As she was about to call out again, she heard him finally.

"Can I ask you something?" Came an inquiry so quiet she almost didn't hear it. He sounded uncharacteristically troubled and… nervous?

"Yea, sure," She answered gently.

"What do you know about Michael?"

"Michael who?" Came her quick, confused reply.

"The archangel? Asshole that's been wearing me as a suit the last few weeks?" She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was living inside of a TV show and it stunned her into silence. "That Michael? Has he not been on the show or...?" The nervous huff in his reply shook her out of her stupor. She realized this must be a hard topic for him. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have any insight to give.

"Oh fuck, right, Michael," She swallowed and gathered her thoughts before replying with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't really know much. I hadn't started this season yet," She finished apologetically.

"Thanks," Came a sarcastic reply.

She frowned and defended, "Look, I have a life, dude! I get behind, I can't always tune in every Thursday! Trust me, no one is more sorry about that than me right now. Maybe if I had, I could have done something to prevent this insane situation." A heavy sigh dotted the end of her sentence pointedly. Then she had a strange, disconcerting thought:

Would you really have prevented this from happening if you had a choice?

The thought startled her and she guiltily refused to answer herself.

A welcome distraction for her was noticing the silence that followed her answer to Dean; George could tell he was still concerned. Reaching over and grabbing the door handle, she cracked it just enough to spy Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding a take out box. He glanced at her almost imperceptibly and she could tell her eyes weren't exactly welcome, so she turned her head away but left the door open.

"Here's what I've heard/seen on accident," She started, pausing to think and then saying carefully, "He comes back somehow," She heard him bristle but kept going, "And you do something to trap him. Some kind of box… or maybe a walk-in freezer?" She was trying to organize the spoilers she'd seen and identify what was related to Michael and what wasn't. "I know that doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean sighed and shrugged, "It's alright, George. I'm just… feeling lost. Was hoping for some clues, but it's not on you to save my bacon." George gave a wry smile to the bath water and sat quietly for a moment.

Finally she turned her head to look at him and asked, "You want to know what I do know, Dean?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her with an intrigued eyebrow, "I don't know, do I?"

With an amused eye roll she spoke, "I know this--right now--this story line with alternate Michael? It's two seasons behind where you and your brother end up in my reality. And--at least as far as I remember--this alternate Michael isn't a starring role for very long."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at her in consideration, "Meaning?"

She shrugged and offered, "Meaning, you figure this out. Like you always do. You will figure this out and you will beat Michael and be onto the next big bad, whomever that is. Which, don't even ask because I really have no idea. Haven't watched those seasons at all yet… I think there's one episode where you meet Scooby Doo?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, telling her matter-of-factly, "We already did that."

"No shit?! That already happened?" When he nodded in confirmation George 'ughed' loudly, rolling her eyes, "Damnit, that must have been one of the ones I just watched. What was it like?! Was Shaggy really high? Was Daphne really hot? Was Scooby just adorable?!"

Dean chuckled and answered, "Uh, yes, hell yes, and duh! It's Scooby Doo! Of course he's adorable!"

"Was it weird to be animated?"

He shrugged a little, "Eh, kin-"

She cut him off with a gasp, "Wait! Was all of you animated, like.. did you have all your-"

He shook his head and proclaimed, "That's none of your business!"

"Sorry!" George apologized defensively, then begged, "Tell me you and Daphne-"

"George!" Dean admonished with feigned offense, "I don't kiss and tell."

She scoffed and guessed, "Struck out, huh?"

Dean frowned and simply said, "Her and Fred are an item. I didn't want to break that up," to which George laughed in disbelief.

"Yea, I got it. I think things are starting to come back to me now," George teased him and he shrugged in defeat, unable to deny the fact that he definitely struck out with Daphne. When her laughter died away, she looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I know, I know, it's not my job to save you but that doesn't mean I enjoy not being able to." They were quiet again for a minute and she sighed, "If I could just call Ryan."

"Who's he?"

"She is my Winchester Wiki," She explained very matter of factly and Dean stared at her with an annoyed expression. With a smile she continued, "She's my friend and she's also a fan of the show; Got me back into it later in life and, well lets just say, she pays closer attention than I do. She'd be able to help you with this whole Michael problem without breaking a sweat. Oh and she's gorgeous," George tossed on and Dean raised a curious eyebrow. She caught his curious expression and asked, "You don't happen to have a phone with trans-universal long distance coverage by chance?"

Dean snorted and shook his head in bemused defeat, "Not on me." He was frustrated that she didn't have more insight on Michael, though somewhat comforted by the fact that-at least in her reality-he wasn't dead yet. That was something, he guessed.

"So," George smirked at him, glee in her eyes, "American's Next Top Model, hmm?"

"What, are you surprised? A house full of attractive models?" Dean gave her an obvious expression.

She shark-mouthed understandably and nodded, "Fair point. Allison cycle 12? Ooof. Hello!"

Dean considered her assessment for a moment, then nodded agreeably but offered, "Mercedes, cycle 2."

George had to remember who that was for a minute but then nodded emphatically, "Yes! Gorgeous and she was good. She ended up top three, right?"

They compared notes for a few minutes, until he finished the last bite of pie in the container he was holding. Then he whipped out his phone and muttered in her direction, "Finish your bath. I'm gonna text Sam for more towels."

When Sam got the text he snagged a pile from a housekeeping cart on their way back to George's room. They had also stopped by the car and brought up a few bags, per his request. Dean carefully handed George the towels through the bathroom door, so as to not accidentally see any bits, and then turned to Sam for a room update.

"Bad news: no adjoining rooms. The best I could do was five doors down. Even more bad news: only one queen bed." Sam held up the room key with a feigned wince. "But listen, I don't think we should leave George alone, so I'll just crash on the floor in here and you can take the room."

"Wow, what a sacrifice," Dean chuckled knowingly at his brother and snatched the key from him. "Shouldn't we have Cas handle it, though?"

"No, why?" Sam protested a little too fast.

"Because he doesn't need sleep. He can keep an eye on the little deserter. Make sure she doesn't do it again?"

Sam frowned, "She's not going to. And if she does, I think I can handle it. How is she supposed to get any sleep with Cas staring at her all night?"

"I don't stare at people when they sleep," Cas interrupted. With a huff he clarified, "I stare at the wall."

Dean looked at the offended angel and shrugged, "It's not that bad. He's quiet. Honestly, it's kind of comforting when you think about it." There was an awkward pause and Dean added, "Sometimes he'll sing for you if you ask nice-"

"Dean," Castiel admonished him for sharing something so intimate. Cas only did that for him.

Sam looked between the two of their sheepish faces and then assured sarcastically, "Yea, a singing angel staring at the wall in the dark. Totally not creepy."

George came out of the bathroom wrapped in the clean towels from Dean. She was now looking a little sheepish as well, "Hey, sorry about earlier. All of it. I jus-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dean held up a hand to her. "Save it for the morning. You can spill your guts over breakfast. We couldn't get adjoining rooms, so Cas and I will be just down the hall; Sam will stay with you tonight. On the floor," He said pointedly with a 'behave' look toward Sam, who rolled his eyes in irritation. George nodded, barely listening, and let out a tired sigh.

Then she had a startling thought and groaned, "Shit. I'm going to have to put those crusty clothes back on."

Dean grinned proudly, "You're not the only one with surprise gifts." He took the bags that Sam and Cas had retrieved from the car and set them down on the wooden table.

"What's this?" She asked, grabbing one of the handles and peeking into the bag where she spotted the Friends logo hoodie she'd picked out at Target. "My clothes? My deodorant?! Oh Dean! Thank you so much! I would kiss you but you have pie like… all over your face, but thank you!" As she dug into the bags to search for the PJs, Dean looked questioningly at Sam and Cas who nodded in confirmation.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean grumbled, moving over to the sink to wipe his face. Sam shrugged in feigned innocence, laughing internally at his idiot brother.

"How did you get all the clothes I picked?" She asked, impressed.

"We got lucky; Sam happened to hear one of the employees complaining about a nutty woman who'd run from the store like a bat outta hell and abandoned all her stuff," Dean gave her a pointed stare.

She looked first at Sam, and then Cas and Dean, with immense gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her spirits had been lifted a little. The fresh underwear alone was going to make her feel a thousand times better.

"They mentioned they'd already put back one or two items when we asked about it, so hopefully we got the right replacements." Sam warned her.

"I don't care! I can apply deodorant and brush my teeth; I'm sure I can put together at least one clean outfit with what's here! So I'm hap-" She suddenly stopped and froze, having discovered a strange item in one of the bags. "Wha?" In one swift motion she pulled out a pale pink lace bodysuit and held it up for them to see. With an annoyed, yet curious expression she looked at Dean and asked, "Someone care to explain this?"

Dean held his hands up in innocence and Sam inspected the garment in confusion.

"It looked nice on the mannequin and the Target associate who helped me pick it out said it was bold, yet feminine. Perfect for the new woman in my life," Castiel happily explained, sounding as though he was reciting someone else's words.

George blushed a bit, looking at Sam and Dean like 'is he for real?', unsure how to respond. Both men shrugged unhelpfully, avoiding eye contact with the item she was still holding, and remained quiet. Cas seemed so proud, she didn't want to ruin it.

Finally, she stuttered out, "Wow. OK, well… thanks. Very thoughtful of you, Castiel…"

"If you wanted to provide me with your exact measurements, the sales associate offered to help me pick out a 'matching bra and panty se'-"

"OK, why don't we quit while we're ahead, eh Buddy?" Dean grabbed up four of the remaining takeout boxes and motioned for Cas to do the same. He then reached for the pink, lacey material in George's hand, jokingly trying to take it from her.

She swatted him with it and held it out of his reach, "Hey! You're the old woman in his life."

He couldn't help but laugh in response, though he shook his head in annoyance, and then headed out the door with the angel in tow, "See you crazy kids in the morning!"

When they left George looked at Sam curiously, "Is it wrong that I kind of want to give Cas 'my measurements' and then watch him try to pick out lingerie?"

Sam smirked in amusement but nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," George chuckled and tossed the teddy back into the bag.

"Perhaps the wrong audience?" He suggested with a chuckle.

"Yea, that's fair," She agreed. While she rifled through the bags and grabbed out some black PJ pants, a light blue, short sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, Sam watched her quietly. To say he was relieved to find her safe and unharmed was an understatement. He'd also been thrilled by her admission that she liked it here, but, like Cas, he was curious what it meant. And what it could mean for him.

Does she like it enough to stay maybe? He cursed at himself for even thinking it.

"Uh, George?" He finally pushed through the nerves and forced himself to speak.

"Hmm?" She responded curiously, not looking up from her bags just yet.

He tried to adopt a nonchalant, yet comforting tone and asked, "When you were saying earlier that you felt… comfortable here? Like you belong? What did you mean?"

Pausing her rummaging, she glanced over at him, caught off guard by the question. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could answer it. She was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how deep she wanted to get into this.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "Back home I… I've always had this strange, out of place feeling. Major dysphoria my whole life and kinda irritatingly painful too, like... full body restless leg syndrome. I've always imagined it similar to how a trans individual might experience feeling like they were born in the wrong body, ya know?" Sam made a noise of confirmation and she continued, "Except, my body is fine--well, it's not the cause of this problem anyway," they chuckled together.

"It's more… my whole being was wrong somehow, like I didn't belong. Anywhere. I had trouble connecting with people and making friends; even my own family seemed so different from me. I felt like I was on a different wavelength than other people, and not in a snooty, I'm-better-than-anybody way but like a sad, I-have-hardly-any-friends-because-I-can't-relate way, so it sucked. Hard. My family wasn't much help; though they tried to help by testing me for every 'disorder' you could think of. Nada. I was just… inexplicably different and no one could explain why. I could barely explain what I was feeling. They--my parents--were surprisingly relieved when I came out after college. For them, my 'struggle with the fact that I liked boys and girls throughout my childhood' explained everything away so perfectly, that they wrote it off right then and there. But it never had to do with that; my sexuality was nothing I ever struggled with, I just didn't feel like I needed to tell them. And since I'm still queer in this reality..." She trailed off her point, allowing him to fill in the blanks, with a chuckle.

Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile, clearly reading on her face how painful her experience had been. Gently he asked, "And now, being here, i-in this reality, you feel...?"

Her head tilted to the side and, looking at him wide-eyed, she sighed deeply, "Now? God, now, I feel… normal? Or, at least what I can only assume normal people feel like." Suddenly her voice was heavy with deep emotional relief, "I don't know how to explain it… and I don't know why, maybe I don't even care why, but I feel so good for the first time in forever. Emotionally, spiritually, physically... The constant restless buzzing is mercifully just gone. Sometimes I think I feel it again--that terrible, agonizing discomfort--and my heart skips a beat. But then my brain registers that it really is gone and I still feel good! And that feeling is almost better than the best sex I've ever had."

Sam shark-mouthed in surprised appreciation and teased kindly, "So, I guess you did know how to explain it?"

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding with a chuckle and nodded, "Yea, I guess so. Honestly, I'm a little scared to go back," A few tears that had welled up as she was proselytizing spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably and she reached up to wipe them away, blushing lightly.

As George contemplated her admission in the silence, the guilt she felt over leaving them earlier was back. Why the hell did she leave if she'd felt so damn good here? She also felt like a stupid, impulsive child running away from the only people who seemed to care about her, at least insofar as they didn't want her to die. She felt especially guilty that Sam had stuck his neck out for her with Dean and she'd basically stomped on it.

Sam stood awkwardly, watching her with an empathetic grimace. He nearly leapt over to comfort her but… Christ, was this situation complicated. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she wasn't safer in her old reality, maybe if they hadn't handcuffed her to a chair and interrogated her, maybe if she hadn't spent the last few hours crying through an existential crisis, maybe if he wasn't terrified she would push him away in disgust? Maybe if she wasn't practically naked right now... maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn about walking over and wrapping her up into a bear hug.

After a moment of nervously wringing her fingers, George met his eyes and took a deep breath, apologizing, "I'm sorry I ran, Sam. I don't even really know why I-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Sam shook his head definitively, taking a few small steps toward her, now within arms reach. "I understand what you're going through-sort of, and you know, in reverse but still-I get it. Don't worry about it," He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it, "I'm just happy I found you."

At his touch, her heart skipped a beat and she felt her whole body flush, goosebumps forming on her skin. The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes nearly made her physically swoon. Was that an admission of something or just a subtextless statement of forgiveness? Staring into his eyes made her feel like she was on the downswing of the world's tallest roller coaster. She had to force herself to break eye contact before she could breathe again. He squeezed her hand once more before slowly letting go and as he did she had a realization.

"Thank you." Mustering up a smile through her butterflies, she clumsily grabbed the clothing she needed. "Anyway, I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I'm naked-oh and have been since the three of you got here," She realized, blushing again. Jesus, I took a bath with Dean Winchester in the next room. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to remain cool, calm, collect, walking toward the bathroom, "Uh, so, I should probably go put some clothes on, now."

Sam nodded understandingly and said with an earnest expression, "Hopefully not on my account." When George froze mid step and jerked her head towards him, burning red from head to toe, he faltered, "Er-uh-I just meant, you don't need to feel uncomfortable naaak-err-without-I mean you aren't making me uncomfortable while-without… clothes." George was relaxed by his shy, adorable stuttering, although at this point 'shy' surprised her. He'd been just as bold back at the bunker, more than once. He sighed and gave her a meek smile, "Uh, somehow this sounded less creepy in my head."

With a chuckle she put him out of his misery, "Relax, Ravenclaw, I understand. It's not on your account, it's on mine," She assured him, to which he nodded thankfully, a relieved expression on his face. She turned back to the door of the bathroom, pushing it open and stepping in.

When she exited the bathroom again, now fully clothed, the only light in the room was now the small, soft light above the bed. At first, the room seemed empty and George wondered if she'd scared Sam away with all her emotions. She was about to call out for him when she finally noticed a pair of big old feet sticking out from along the side of the bed near the window.

"Sam? What are you doing?" She walked over and found him lying on the ground on top of one solitary blanket.

"Just relaxing." He shrugged boyishly.

"On the floor?"

He clarified, "On my bed."

"Sorry, this tissue paper is supposed to be your bed?" She asked for clarification.

"Standard issue motel comforter. And, yea, it's perfect," He reached down on his side and pulled the right side of the blanket over himself. "See, you just fold the top over and it becomes a mattress and a blanket in one!" He seemed genuinely pleased about his makeshift accommodations, as though he was sharing a trade secret with her.

"Wow," she tried to sound impressed, "clever." She hopped onto the bed above him complimenting a bit sarcastically, "Quite the boy scout, aren't you?"

His head jerked up to look at her. There it was again. Another line direct from his dream falling familiarly from her lips. Hearing the pet name conjured images in his mind of the dream woman saying it. It felt identical.

But, how? That dream wasn't real. It was just Gabriel. George is a different woman, it's just a coin-

"Hey, can I ask you something?" George cut into his internal panicking with a soft voice suddenly.

"Yep?" He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Well… OK, I'm just going to say this because fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point," She wasn't looking at him but sensed his nervous curiosity right away. Ignoring her own butterflies, she said, "Seems to me that the Sam I met at the bunker would have committed to that earlier 'unintended' innuendo." She raised a sideways brow at him, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure he understood what she was referencing. When she could tell he did, she finally turned her head to meet his eyes and with a shy smile asked, "So, what gives?"

Sam considered her question for a minute; he wasn't sure where to start. Finally he folded his hands in his lap and shrugged sadly, "Actually, uh-about that, I feel like I owe you an apology."

Oooh, that doesn't sound good, George tried to hide her grimace. Her stomach started twisting in painful knots. What's that you were saying about nothing to lose?

"Por que?" She was trying to stave off a cold sweat.

"For… Well, I guess, how about handcuffing you to a chair and interrogating you for starters? For allowing you to be sexually assaulted by a demon? For letting you risk your life to come with us on this hunt? For hitting on you when you were obviously going through a difficult time? Take your pick."

She let out a breath of surprised relief and smiled curiously, "Oh… well in that case, let me just say: one, your brother was the one who handcuffed me to the chair--and it was understandable. Two, it's not your responsibility to protect me from the likes of Tim. He wasn't the first creep and he won't be the last." He seemed thoroughly unsatisfied by that response, so she tried to lighten it up by continuing, "And three, you didn't let me come on the hunt. Clearly I strong armed you." A tiny snort of amusement emitted from him and she smirked, then added curiously, "And, lastly, just to be clear… you were hitting on me?"

He huffed in humiliation, running his hand over his face, unable to look at her, "God, I feel like a real jackass." A blackhole was growing in the pit of his stomach. "Your world was literally turned upside down and you needed help not--not some weird, bunker dwelling asshole making advances."

"Uh, Sam," At first George laughed; the absurdity of the hottest man on television apologizing for hitting on her struck her funny bone. However, when it registered just how sober the tone of his voice was, the reality of the situation hit her again like a ton of bricks. She realized that part of her was still anticipating Jared to break at some point and reveal all of this had been an elaborate set up. It hadn't occurred to her yet that, for Sam, this was all real. His sincerity touched her.

She swallowed down the rest of her laughter, along with her typical smartass response, and smiled kindly, "Thank you for the apology and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it's not necessary. You had no idea, considering I lied to you--which I'm also sorry about if I haven't already said that." That last part came out quickly upon realizing she might not have apologized yet. He gave her a kind smile and waved her off gently, so she continued, "So, please don't feel guilty. And I'll let you know if your advances are ever unwanted. Promise."

The deja vu hit him again so hard it knocked the wind out of him. His eyes snapped up to meet hers from his spot on the floor. A blush creeped across her cheeks as he stared curiously. She was back on the roller coaster, butterflies tumbling in her gut, but forced herself to keep eye contact, allowing him to conduct his search. She wasn't sure what he was so determinedly looking for but she hoped he was finding it.

A mix of emotions wrestled within him at the moment. Though he knew logically it made no sense, he was having a harder and harder time denying that he knew this woman, intimately--in every sense of the word. But, how?! And, holy shit, was she saying what he hoped she was saying? He could feel his hopes skyrocketing while he struggled to hold them down in self-preservation.

A huge yawn broke out on her face, ruining the moment and snapping Sam out of his stupor.

"Whoa, Jesus," She laughed a bit, surprised by the force of the yawn.

"Time for bed?" Sam tried to mask his disappointment at the disruption. She nodded agreeably.

"Listen, could you at least take a pillow, please? One pillow? For me?" Pulling the sheets back, so she could climb in, she yanked a pillow out and tossed it over the edge of the bed. She heard it land with an audible POOMPF right on his face. "Oops," she said with a snicker, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the table while he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

Sliding up under the covers, she settled down on her back. The deafening silence in the room allowed her mind to wander freely while she stared up at the ceiling. After a moment she rolled onto her side and peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Sam's beautiful hazel eyes staring intensely back at her in the dark.

She whispered, "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Came a soft, low rumble, as he continued to stare back.

"How did you find me?" She wondered.

"Uh…" He turned away from her quickly and shifted nervously. He felt compelled to be honest with her; luckily the shroud of darkness made him bolder than he would have been in the harsh light of day. "We tracked you through the cab company mostly. Lost your trail at the diner and then… I'm not really sure. We were driving around and when I saw the sign for the motel I… uh, just had a strong feeling that you were here?"

"...uh huh." His answer surprised her. So much so, that she had to break eye contact and lay back down. She stared at the ceiling in shock.

What did that mean?

Though even as she asked herself the question, she had a feeling that she already knew. It was a feeling that didn't exactly put her at ease; raising more questions than it answered. She mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding she was too tired to pull at that thread.

She finally shrugged a little and said, "Good instincts?"

"Yeah… that must be it," He trailed off, having a nearly identical conversation with himself, and they fell silent again.

"Sam?" She said, choking back a nervous laughter. When she heard him respond with a curious grunt she hesitated. Finally, she blurted in a quiet, definitive whisper, "Samgirl. No question." When she could hear the smile behind another, practically silent--as though he was trying to hide it--grunt of confirmation she smiled wide, adding quickly, "And just so you know, that is the first and last time you will ever hear me utter that silly term of my own volition."

"Understood," He murmured in a teasingly serious tone, making her laugh quietly.

With another big yawn, she forced herself to stop engaging. Before rolling over, she tossed over her shoulder, "And don't tell Dean. He'll be devastated and we have a job to do." The sound of his joyful chuckling was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.

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