Summary: Life continued for the Justice League after Y/N’s death, but what happens when a member of the Avengers accidentally breaks their window during a fight? Meet Wicked Chaos, the newest Avenger addition, who distrusts the Justice League for some unknown reason, even for her.
Word Count: 11,634
Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader, Barry Allen x Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, Tony Stark x Reader
Warnings: Amnesiac reader, A LITTLE angst, I’m pretty sure there’s swearing somewhere and I think that’s it.
A/N: FINALLY, THE DAY YOU ALL HAVE WAITED, JUST BEFORE 2016 ENDS!!! (In my time zone, so don’t come tell me that’s 2017 already, my computer still marks is 2016, period.) Hope you enjoy it since it’s NOT EDITED, SORRY. Therefore, any typos are on me (so let me know if you find any).
Its back!!! Its taken me almost 2 months of grappling with this particular chapter to manage to get what I wanted from it. Thank you to those of you who left comments and kudos on my AO3 for it and those of you who sent me such supportive DMs asking about it.
As always a huge thank you to those who reblog my writing, as fic writers our reach is only as good as the reblogs we get so thank you to all those who have done that both for the other parts of this story and my other writing.
The rest of this story (and my other work) can be found here
I include a TW here as there is discussion of infertility and pregnancy loss which might be upsetting to some.
Chapter 15 - Whispers in the Dark
Six months. Six months since she came and breathed the life to him he hadn’t even realised he had been missing. Three months. Three months since they decided to move in together and entwine their lives. He could see her now, sitting on the patio bundled up in a quilted jacket, gin and tonic in her gloved hand. The sight makes him smile. Even in the sub zero temperatures that are January in Scotland she insists on this. Her little nightly habit. She sits on the deck, reads poetry and drinks her gin and tonic. He never interrupts. Orphaned young, with little by way of family, she is by nature a solitary creature. Whilst he does not always understand her desire for solitude, growing up as he did on farm surrounded by family and friends, he respects it. It’s such a small thing, her time in her own head.
But sometimes, he wonders what she is thinking. Whilst he’s sure her feelings towards him have not changed, he has noticed a sadness in her sometimes. A wistfulness, a small sigh that only someone paying as close attention as he, would even notice. It began in October, her birthday. Jenny had thrown her a huge party at Lallybroch and they had invited all their Glasgow friends up for the weekend. It was uproarious and hilarious and as a result very few guests were in a position to leave until quite late on Sunday after lie ins, fry ups and in the case of poor little Mary Hawkins, the obtaining of a number of plastic bags for the journey home. Claire had enjoyed it as much as anyone. But afterwards, when everyone had left and it was just family sitting down to Sunday dinner, the fire in the grate, the children squabbling as they sat. He had noticed it then. That little chink in her sunny armour, that slight droop in her mouth when she thought no one was paying attention. At the time it had not alarmed him, he put it down to hangover and tiredness, but as the weeks moved on and her time outside had taken on a different hue. Whereas before it had been about release, about a busy mind letting go, now it seemed an act of melancholy. A deliberate distancing. And it scared him. He didn’t think he was the cause of her sadness, beyond these brief moments their relationships seemed to get better with every passing day, as their collection of shared moments came together and created a life that was shared, but there is still fear. Fear that he cannot reach her pain and soothe it, fear that this part of her he does not know might grow into something more, and sadness. Sadness that whatever it is she cannot not share. That she cannot reach out to him.
He watches as she stands and turns towards the door. He can see her rearrange her face in the half light which spills out of the french doors before she steps into the room. She heads across the living room towards the kitchen. He steels himself a moment and follows. He stands behind her as she rinses her glass and he can see that her shoulders are set and tense.
‘Mo Nighean Donne’ he calls to her softly, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Will ye not tell me what’s wrong? Because whilst I’ve not known you long, I ken you well. You’ve not been yourself a while now. Will ye not let me help you?’ His voice broke slightly and he heard her breath hitch before she turned to him. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears and he moved towards her without a thought.
‘No, Jamie. Please’ she held out her hand to ward him off and he took a step back like he had been slapped. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, never before had she physically shied from him. ‘Jamie’ She said again, but she had dropped her hand and took a step towards him. “I, I…’ she stopped and he could see her turmoil as the emotions she had never been able to keep hidden danced across her face.
‘Speak to me, Claire, tell me’ He heard the pleading in his voice and didn’t care. He would beg on hands and knees for Claire, to heal her, to heal them.
She took a deep breath as she attempted to physically collect herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, before raising her head and looking Jamie directly in the eye.
‘Its children, Jamie’ His confusion showed on his face and she continued. ‘I know you want them, have always wanted them. That your dream is the kitchen at Lallybroch, filled with little red headed children. And I want that too. For you, for me. For us.’ She trailed off, the moment of joy that had infused her face so briefly as she described their children fading again into resignation. ‘But I don’t think I can give them to you, Jamie. I tried for years with Frank and it only happened once for us. And even then, it was over in a matter of weeks.’ Her voice was at once both bitter and heartbroken at this, and a single tear rolled down her face. ‘And I was young then’ she continued, oblivious to tears that were now spilling down her face with abundance. ‘I’m 39, Jamie. We’ve never actively tried for baby, but we’ve never tried not to either. And nothing.’ The tears were falling harder now and her words spilling out between sobs. ‘And I am so selfish, Jamie. So fucking selfish. I know what I should do. I should let you go. I should let you find someone, someone who can give you what you want, what you deserve to have. But I can’t bring myself to. The thought of being without you.. When I think about it it’s like a punch in the gut. I feel like I can’t breathe. I know, it’s what I should do but I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Jamie. I am so sorry’
He caught her just as her knees went from under her and they both dropped to their knees. She was crying uncontrollably now, her face red and blotchy, the front of her shirt wet with her own tears. He had been silent, listening up to that point. Desperate to hear her, to understand her, to let her speak. But now the damn burst and he was crying too, his face buried in her hair, his arms holding her so tightly there was not a hint of space between them. Her arms came up around his neck as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck, sobbing and apologising over and over.
After a long time, he had no concept of how much, of how long they had sat there weeping on the kitchen floor, he loosened his hold on her, holding her away from him slightly so he could see her face. She hung her head so that her hair hung down hiding her from him.
‘Look at me, Mo Nighean Donne. Claire. My love, my life’ He spoke quietly, his hand lifting her chin. He ran a thumb across a cheek and she took a wobbly breath.
‘Claire, yes, yes. I do want those things. I want a kitchen full of bairns, I want to go to sports day, and visit Santa and all of the other stuff. But I want you more. What I said to ye, the first time we went to Lallybroch. I meant it.’ He pulled her to him and kissed her urgently before releasing her and speaking again. ‘I would leave behind everything for you, and if being with you means I never have children, then I will still choose you. You are the breath of my body Mo Nighean Donne, the joy in my heart. The thought of losing you…’ He brought his forehead to hers, his hand on the back of her head. ‘That would be more than I could ever bear’
Her hands were on his face now has she searched it desperately. ‘But Jamie. I can’t ask that sacrifice of you.’
‘You ask nothing of me, Claire. I give it freely. I am yours. I belong to you and you alone. But, Sassenach, why did you no talk to me about this sooner? Why did you carry this alone?’
‘Because I didn’t want to have to make you choose, because I didn’t want to lose you, because I was afraid you would leave me, because I was afraid you would stay but resent me.’
He pulled her to him again and kissed her. His heart sore with her pain. He stood finally pulling her to her feet.
‘Tomorrow, Claire, we will talk about this. Our options, whether we want to put ourselves through them. But right now please know this above all else. You are enough for me. You will always be enough for me. And I can only hope to be the same for you.’
She kissed him then and he knew her heart. There would be difficult conversations to be had, difficult choices to be made, but he knew they would be making them together.
The next night they sat on the deck together, his arms wrapped firmly around her as they whispered together in the dark.
No Stars Over Gotham - Jason Todd x Reader (Heartlines Soulmates AU)
The wind tugged at your clothes and skin as your motorcycle whipped through the Gotham streets. They were empty, a reminder of how late it was- very few rational people would be out at 3:00 am on a Tuesday. You glanced down at your hand, seeing the red heartline protruding looping around your pinky. Almost everybody had them, though they remained invisible to most people. Most were red, but some were black.
“Heartlines are the strings that connect soulmates to each other. A black heartline,” your mother had told you, “is a morbid thing. It means that your soulmate no longer lives.” It was from her that you had inherited your gift. When you were younger, your own line had turned black, which had made for some depressing family conversations. Upon waking up a few years later, you realized that it was red again. As far as you were aware, if your soulmate died, you didn’t get a replacement, which raised a lot of questions. A large crash sounded from around a corner, pulling you from your thoughts. You accelerated, noticing that your string was turning a corner. Knowing that it generally just led to disappointment, you hadn’t tried to chase it for a long time, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to indulge yourself just this once. Besides, you thought, I don’t have any other plans for tonight. You rounded the corner, following the thin red line.
“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself, seeing the line extend skyward. It shot up to the top of an apartment building before being cut off into darkness. They’re up there. My soulmate, my future, is on that roof, you thought. Your heart started pounding as you parked your bike along the curb. Your hands shook as they grasped the building’s doorknob, letting you into the building. When you reached the stairs, you started running. Your heart raced faster and faster with each floor you climbed past until finally, you had reached the roof. Letting out a sharp breath, you slowly opened the final door. A figure sat at the edge, peering out over the city. The red heartstring hit the center of his back.
“Hello?” you called out, the adrenaline racing through your veins masking how sore your legs had become. The figure turned to you, his face barely visible in the low light.
“Who are you?” you asked him. Upon approaching him, you were able to make out his features more distinctly. Holy shit, you thought, I have just struck gold.
“Why do you ask?” he countered. Oh, Jesus, even his voice is hot.
“You’re my… You’re connected to me. I mean, I can see the…” you started to speak, but he cut you off.
“Heartlines? I thought those were a myth,” he said.
“They aren’t. I can see them, the strings that tie soulmates together. And mine, well, it led me straight to you.” A smile spread across his face.
“Well, in that case, my name is Jason. Jason Todd. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.
“I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N. And yes, it is. So, Mr. Todd, what exactly are you doing on this roof at three in the morning?” He shrugged.
“Looking at the city lights, they’re the closest thing this gloomy city has to stars,” he answered.
“Well, you’re right about that,” you replied, glancing up at the cloudy skies, “between the constant clouds and the light pollution, there are no stars over Gotham. It’s sad, really. It’s like everything in Gotham is so dark, even the stars are blocked out.” You sat together on the ledge, looking out at the lights. After a minute of silence, Jason replied.
“Why don’t we go somewhere else, just for tonight? A late night adventure, if you will,” he suggested. You smiled.
Hi everyone, this is my first imagine series ever, so hope you like it!
Summary: Y/N is running from the harsh words her supposed soulmates (yep, plural, that’s her very own punishment, having more than one soulmate) told her and while in the run, someone kidnaps her. AU! Where you know who’s your soulmate because of the “heartlines” that lit up the first time you touch your soulmate. Word count: 2375 Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, Barry Allen x Reader. WARNINGS: Reader is kidnaped, assaulted and insulted. Angst. Reader feels unimportant. I don’t know… it’s pretty sad, don’t read if you are sad. Sorry, don’t know how this works quite yet.
My legs felt
numb, my lungs hurt, my eyes burned from all the unshed tears, but still, I
kept running. I couldn’t stop… because I knew that if I did… then I would have
to face the truth and I wasn’t in for that now, or ever for that matter. So run I did and I was doing so well at
forgetting the world around me, that I didn’t notice someone following me until
he got my arm rather forcefully and I felt something in my neck that probably
was a shot of some drug.
I woke up
bound in a chair not knowing even my name and with the mother of all headaches.
However for the next hours, I learnt to miss that state of ignorance since
everything came rushing back to me:
-“Y/N, this is not a good moment” “But Barry, I
just…” “Iris needs me, I need to go” “I-Is she alright? Is she in d-danger?” “What?
No! She just… needs me and I’m going with her” “But Barry… I need you too, I-
my dad came and…” “And what? Y/N, can’t you stand a day without being the
victim?” “What? Barry, what are you trying…” “All I say is that it always has
to be about you, always! But I have no time for that now; I need to go with
Iris” “Is she more important than me? Than us?” “Y/N…” “Answer me” “Y/N, I don’t
have time for this…” “Just answer me, dammit!” “…Yes, is that what you wanted
to hear? Now I have to go”
-“Clark! Please, we need to talk!” “Not now Y/N,
I’m in a hurry” “What? Why?” “Lois is going to reportage about the war in…” “And
that’s your business because?” “Because it’s dangerous and she is… very
important to me” “Am I important too?” “What? Y/N of course you are, don’t be ridiculous”
“Is just… that she is always first, these days your priority is Lois” “Y/N…” “She
is just your favorite person, isn’t she?” “Y/N, please…” “Do I even make it to
the top ten?” “Of course, baby. Can I go now?” “Are you serious?” “Very. The
plane goes off in less than half an hour, Lois must be waiting” “And you can’t
leave her waiting, can you?” “Y/N…” “If… if you go through that door,
Clark, I swear…” “Thanks, bye!” “…you’ll never see me again”
- “Alfred, take Y/N back to her home in Metropolis”
“Bruce! Stop! You cannot do this; we have to talk” “That’s why you have speedy
and the alien, to talk and be sweet to you” “Bruce, please! We need to solve
this, we need to talk this through” “There’s no time, Y/N. However, I’m sure
Barry or Clark would be delighted to have you with them for the night” “None of
them cares for me enough, Bruce… I just need to know that I matter to someone,
then you can go and save the city, but please… ” “Then what am I? Your last
choice?” “What? No! Bruce, it isn’t like that, you know I love you all” “You’ve
said that plenty of times before” “Bruce, please… I just need a reason not to
go… I need a reason to stay” “Apparently, I don’t have one” “Bruce…” “If you
want to go, then go! See if I give a shit”
Sleeping Beauty is finally awake-someone cracked and made me look up. In front
of the door of the room I was in, was a tall man. I couldn’t distinguish much
more since the lights were still off.
-Have been for a couple of hours, actually-I answered calm since this wasn’t
the first hostage situation I was in, after all, being the soulmate of 3 known
superheroes has its downside. The only difference from this occasion was that
here I didn’t had the certainty that one of them would rescue me.
-Well, sorry for the delay, then-he started to come near me- We were just
staging everything for the big show.
-I’m guessing I’m an important part of it, aren’t I?-I said with a tired smile,
which he, whoever he was, corresponded.
-The main event! Everything is about you, my dear-the lights were finally turned
on and after I got used to the light, I took a look to my captor.
-Edward?-I gasped surprised. My publisher was right there, in front of me. If I
ignored the crazy smile on his face, is like he was the normal Edward I knew as
my publisher, my friend, my shoulder to cry on… and now, my captor.
-I know you’re surprised, dear. However, do try to be open minded… because isn’t
this just fun? I mean, it’s fun for me because your face is priceless but for
you… oh, dear Y/N, this must be horrible. Everyone in your life isn’t really
there for you anymore, are they? No, they aren’t-he answered his own question
before I could- I mean, let’s see: your parents are now dead, your brother is
off to Europe and you two don’t talk much anymore, you don’t even know he is
married now!-he laughed
-What?!-I exclaimed, confused.
-Oh, yeah, that’s because the invitations were delivered to your boyfriends’
houses, but none of them cared enough to tell you about it.
-That’s not true, my brother doesn’t even have a girlfriend, he…
-But he does, see it for yourself-he put his cellphone right in front of me. I
could see my brother in a tuxedo, embracing lovingly a woman with blonde curly
hair and milky skin-… and let’s not forget about the video I took!-he said
starting a video where I could see my brother chatting with some people I didn’t
knew, holding the blonde’s hand, laughing, smiling…
-You were there?!-I shouted, surprised when I saw him in the video
-Of course! I was very surprised when I didn’t saw you there and that’s when I
started to work out your failing relationships-he murmured while putting away
-My relationships aren’t failing
-No? Then, care to explain this?-he clicked something in his cellphone and
Barry’s voice started to sound
“I need to go with Iris” “Is she more important
than me? Than us?” “Y/N…” “Answer me” “Y/N, I don’t have time for this…” “Just
answer me, dammit!” “…Yes, is that what you wanted to hear? Now I have to go”
this one?-another click and now was Clark’s voice
“Y/N…” “If… if you go through that door, Clark,
I swear…” “Thanks, bye!” “…you’ll never see me again”
other one?-one click more and now I could hear Bruce’s voice
“Bruce…” “If you want to go, then go! See if I
give a shit”
All of them were out of context, huh?-he said with a bright smile, staring down
at me. I gulped down all the tears that threatened to come out and tried to
you want from me?-I asked, looking down.
-What do I want from you? Right now, just admit what you already know… that
they don’t love you, even though their heartlines illuminated with you, they
don’t love you.
-Because you have to do it-he answered harshly, however, I just wanted to know
why and I wasn’t backing down
-Tell me why and I’ll do it-I said proudly looking up- Maybe because you think
you are better than them, you think you deserve a chance with me, you think…-I
couldn’t continue because of a slap in my face that launched me to the ground.
-I don’t “think” I’m better than them or that I deserved a chance, I know it! I’ve
always known that but you refused to accept it. I was the perfect candidate to
be the one who lit up your fourth heartline! I even considered forgetting you
are a whore since birth! But you ruined your chances and now I’m here to show
you your mistake-he ended with a smile while he grabbed the chair I was in and
put it back to place without a care.
-What are you going to do?-I asked trying not to show my fear, but failing
-I’m going to put on a show where you will be able to see how your soulmates
don’t care one bit about you and…
-I already know that-I interrupted him
-Oh, so you are not making any bets? No hope that any of the 3 will come to get
you?-he said with a giggle that I found terrifying.
-No, I have no hope at all… will you end this game now?-I said while looking
-Unfortunately for you, I do have my bets and consequential plans with those
-Weren’t you going to show me how they didn’t care enough for me?
-Oh yes! But my plans were to attract them here, to you, and then show you how
the only reason they came was because they were heroes, not because they loved
you… however, it never occurred to me that they weren’t coming. So, if you are
right, then I’m afraid that this is your last night alive-he laughed even more
while I opened my eyes in shock.
-No… Edward, why are you doing this?-I asked in tears
-Because: A) It’s fun! B) You obviously deserve it, I mean; you are a freak
with those four heartlines and C) This plan has been going for a long time, I
wanted to play with my rivals for some time now, but now they are no longer my
rivals… once you are out of the picture, they will be my playmates.
-Edward… please, just… I need to say goodbye to my brother, please-I said
trying hard not to scream and cry for mercy because now I knew he wouldn’t give
that to me, he was clearly a psychopath and psychopaths don’t give a shit for
their victims but I at least wanted to say goodbye to my brother, he was a good
brother and if he had a family I didn’t wanted them to see me like the aunt bitch
that never communicated.
-I suppose everyone needs a closure and I like your brother, he was very kind
to send me an invitation…-he murmured while he thought about it- Okay, you can
say goodbye to him. There’s a camera right there-Edward lifted my chair and
rotated it to my left, where I could see for the first time a camera that was
apparently recording- I was going to send a copy to the Justice League but I
guess I could send your brother another copy.
-Could you, please, cut the parts of my torture?-I said with a slight tremble,
earning a confused glare and a twisted smile from Edward
-How did you know I was going to torture you?
-It’s obvious… you want to make me suffer for not choosing you, even though I
don’t have a say on it-I said gazing up to him and his smile just widened.
-Yeah, obvious… go on then-he motioned to the camera and I sighed.
brother!-I said being over cheerful- I heard you got married and I just want to
say ‘Congratulations, you bastard!’ I hope you are incredibly happy with her
and… I also hope that you forgive for not being there with you. I’ve been
nothing but an awful sister and for that I’m sorry, you deserved better. You deserved a much better sister than what I
could ever be… I… I wish we had talked more, that we hadn’t drift apart but
there’s not much we can do now. So I want to tell you that none of this is your
fault, none! I know it’s rare from me taking away from you some guilt, but…
well, I love you bro, that’s all I can say and I want to show it to you by
forgiving everything you did to me when we were children, because I know you
sometimes still feel guilty about it, and I also asking for forgiveness for
everything I’ve done to you in our childhood and in our adult life. I hope you
can forgive me… especially for apologizing only when I’m so close to my death.-I
-I know that when this arrives to your home in Europe I will already be dead…
and I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry that you will know of my death because of
a video or maybe a phone call or anything, I’m sorry I’m dead because maybe you
are going to feel guilty or maybe you are going to drift apart from your
beautiful wife… so, in this video, I ask you to do neither of those things. I
ask you to go on with your life and don’t hate me, or this situation, or
anything about it… just… go on and be happy knowing that’s what I wish for
you-by this time, tears were freely streaming down my face
-God! I’m awful for this things… everything I’ve said doesn’t make sense and
you are probably done with this video… however, if you have come this far, I
want you to know that I love you, I couldn’t ask for a better brother and that
I will always be sorry for being an awful sister. Oh! Also, you don’t have to
be guilty about anything I…
-That’s enough!-Edward interrupted me while moving my chair to the side- Too
much yada, yada. Now it’s time to get you ready… Guys!-Some over-muscled goons
entered the room; their faces were stoic… where the hell do all of these villains
get these goons that are so alike? - Why don’t you get our main guest ready for
tonight’s show?-he said while grabbing the camera and giving it a better
position, one where my face could be seen clearly along with the goons.
The fat men exited the room, but were back soon enough.
-Y-you are going to record this?-I asked slightly trembling at the sight of the
goons carrying an electroshock machine.
-Of course! The Justice League members can’t miss the backstage show now, can
they?-he said with a horrible smile.
gulped and hoped against hope that Barry, Clark or Bruce came for me… noticed
that I was gone… but deep down, I knew they wouldn’t come.
your bones like water ✩ my favorite female voices: listen
i. billie eilish - my boy // ii. broods - heartlines // iii. lana del rey - money power glory // iv. florence + the machine - breath of life // v. billie eilish - bellyache // vi. marina and the diamonds - teen idle // vii. cruel youth - hatefuck // viii. lorde - team // ix. aurora - warrior // x. hayley kiyoko - this side of paradise // xi. grace vanderwaal - moonlight // xii. xyo - america // xiii. ruelle - live like legends // xiv. melanie martinez - cake // xv. banks - gemini feed // xvi. halsey - heaven in hiding // xvii. melanie martinez - teddy bear // xviii. halsey - control // xix. miley cyrus - malibu // xx. sia - big girls cry // xxi. birdy - light me up // xxii. broods - bridges // xxiii. sia - bird set free // xxiv. lana del rey - diet mountain dew // xxv. halsey - strangers // xxvi. birdy - wings
He arrived outside Taps for the third time and checked his watch. 6.45. He’d been round the block three times and it was still far too early. Should he go in and wait? Or should he wait outside? Or should he walk around a while longer to avoid looking too over eager?
“Jesus, Jamie. Getting a bloody grip on yerself man. She’s only a woman”
But what a woman. He hadn’t been able to get the image of her out of his head. He’d spent the whole day languishing around his apartment like a lovesick teenager, thinking about her. The soft curl of her hair on her shoulder. The way she looked at him when she’d run her finger down his cheek. He’d also fielded several angry calls and text messages from his friends wondering where he’d run off to.
“Ye’re no Cinderella, ye know’ grumbled Rupert “Ya didna need to be running off before the clock struck midnight.”
“Ah, but my work there was done, Rupe. I’d already been swept off my feet” He recounted his meeting with Claire and his plans to see her that evening.
“Ye were cramping our style there anyway.” laughed back Rupert.
“Aye, I can see how 4 married men in their thirties and forties would have been the toast of the club” Despite his big talk, Rupert had been happily married to his childhood sweetheart for 15 years and was as blissfully happy now as he had been the day he married Gina.
Rupert laughed again. “Aye, well. Gina asks are ya coming to dinner on Wednesday, she’ll likely grill you about the lassie but the kids have been asking for their Uncle Jamie.”
“I’ll be there, wouldn’t want to disappoint the bairns. Or Gina.” he added wryly.
He’d then spent an inordinate amount of time picking out clothes and trying to decide if the fact he had his knickers in a knot about going out for a drink with a woman he had spoken to for probably no more than 7 minutes meant he had severe emotional problems. Why was he so uptight? Whilst he’d not exactly been Glasgow’s version of Casanova, he had been on dates in the last few years. There had been the nice dentist that he met in the supermarket and gotten to talking to over a discussion on the merits of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc versus Napier. They’d had dinner a few times. He’d even kissed her, but he felt no desire to pursue her and when she text him to let her know she’d been asked out by someone else, he’d wished her joy and simply never thought of her again. He vaguely realised now that probably hadn’t been her main motivation is revealing that tit bit to him. Then there was F&B journalist he’d met at a craft beer fair when he’d first started diversifying the farm. They’d gone out once she’d spent the entire night talking about her ex, who was a musician before puking in his car on the way home. He’d seen her at a few events since but she’s given him a wide berth. His car still smelt a bit on hot days.
But this, he knew, was different. He wanted to see her, to be in her company, to breath the same air as her. The thought of hearing her laugh, of maybe being the one who made her laugh…
After his fourth lap of the block he arrived back outside the bar. 6.55. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It was quiet, being Sunday night and the bar contained about a dozen people. A small group of men in the corner drinking stout and discussing the different brews, a couple at the bar, and Claire.
She sat at a table near the window, staring out at the street. There was a book of poetry spine up in front of her and she had glass and bottle in front of her. Her hair was pulled back slightly, but was starting to escape near the front. She wore black jeans and a black shirt.Her pale skin seemed to glow. She was lovelier than he had remembered.
“I promise to try not to spill that one down you” he said with a smile. She looked up at him and he motioned to the drink in front of her. “I’m not saying I won’t, but I promise I’ll try”
She smiled back and stood. There was an awkward moment when neither of them seemed to really know what to do. He wanted to touch her, but a hug seemed too familiar, a handshake too formal. Claire solved the dilemma by putting her hand on his arm.
“It’s lovely to see you, Jamie” she said sincerely and he felt the heat rise in his face slightly.
“Oh great” he thought, “now I’m blushing” Claire sat, not seeming to notice the colour which had flooded his cheeks. She gestured for him to do the same. “I’ll just get a drink, can I get you another? A whiskey this time?”
“Oh, no, a little early in proceedings for whiskey yet. I’ll have another of these.” She tipped the bottle towards him. Lady Broch Taurach pale ale. He grinned at her. “You like that do you?”
“oh yes, my friend Joe at work introduced me to craft beers and he’s a big fan of a little brewery near Inverness, Lallybroch, I think they’re called. I’ve developed a taste for this one”
He nodded and headed to the bar. Lallybroch microbrewery was the most recent expansion he had made to his family business. Lallybroch had been in his family since forever and was a the main factor in his decision to leave oil and gas and come home to Scotland. He was strangely chuffed that she was drinking his beer, brewed on his farm and although he knew it to be simple coincidence, he could not help but feel the same jolt of serendipitous good fortune that he’d felt when he had, quite literally, bumped into her the night before.
He returned with the drinks and sat down next to her so they could both look out of the window. Its started to rain. Because of course it had. It was Scotland. They chatted aimlessly and easily and Jamie’s nerves dissipated slightly. He was still incredibly aware of her, but she was so unassuming, so funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. She told him about her job at the hospital. She’s a surgeon. He told her about Lallybroch. She picked up the bottle in front of her. “I’m impressed. And who or what, exactly is a Lady Broch Taurach?”
“Well,” he settled in to tell a much loved story. “Lallybroch has been in my family since the eighteenth century. Back then we owned the whole estate, and our family were Lairds. The estate was called Broch Taurach, the Laird and his Lady were named for the estate. We just have the farm now, but it’s plenty. The farm itself is a proper working hill sheep farm and we have some highland cattle as well. We have a tourist bit, with a gift shop and a restaurant and the such. And then about 18 months ago I opened the brewery. We sell to quite a few places. ‘The Laird’s bedroom’, which is a stout and the pale ale” he gestured to Claire’s drink “are probably our top sellers. I live in Glasgow most of the time, running the business side of things and my sister and her husband run the farm day to day”
“A brewer, my dream man” she said with a giggle taking a swig. By this point they’d both had more than was probably sensible or wise on a Sunday night and were both finding life and each other hilarious.
“So how did you end up in Scotland? A wee Sassenach lassie like yer self?” he deliberately thickened his highland accent in the second half of the question and once again felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach at the sheer pleasure of making her laugh.
“Oh, well” her face darkened a bit “Well, it was my husband. Frank.”
“Your, your husband?” he swallowed audibly.
“Oh we’re divorced now. That tends to happen when your wife finds you in bed with your Phd student” She said this flippantly enough, but her jaw was set and her eyes had dulled.
“I’m sorry t’hear that, Claire”
“It’s fine, really, it’s just, well” She gestured vaguely into the air in a manner that conveyed that whilst things might be fine now, at some point in the not very distant past they had been a long way from fine. “It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t just lost the baby” Tears welled in her eyes and he could see her trying to master herself. He reached forward and took her hand.
“You don’t have to tell me. You don’t owe me anything, but if you want to talk. Well, I’ll do what I can to listen” She gave him a watery half smile at that.
“Thank you, but really. It’s in the past. It was very hard at the time. I had to do a lot to move past it, but I did and I try not to look back.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I think I might let you buy me that whiskey now”
Several very good whiskeys later he had in turn told her all about Geneva, his terrible relationship history and the real reason for his being in the nightclub on the previous night.
Claire was doubled over with laughter as he reenacted the various conversations he had with people in the run up to the night itself.
“Why everyone seemed so sure I was gonna meet the love of my life in a dodgy Glasgow disco with sticky carpets and one pound shots I’ll never know? They must have really thought I was a hopeless case”
“I’m fairly certain that was why we ended up there as well. Glenna, one of the nurses I work with, has been trying to set me up for the past year. I know that Altered Images is definitely not poor Mary’s scene and from the way Geillie and Glenna were literally trying to throw me in the path of every man that came by, I suspect this was another attempt at finding me ‘a braw laddie’” She did a truly awful Scottish accent and they both laughed again.
“Ya know what, Claire?” he asked as he regained his composure, “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as I have tonight, with you” Her colour heightened slightly at the compliment and she looked him in the eye.
Her eyes are the same colour as the whiskey he noted abstractly. Warm and golden, and so deep and rich you could lose yourself in them.
The moment was broken by the bar man coming over and asking them to drink up. Glancing around Jamie realised they were alone in the bar. He glanced at his watch.
“I er, well” He stuttered trying to find his thoughts. He did not want the night to end, but given that it was a Sunday night could think of no way to extend it.
“Would you like to come back to my place?” Claire asked outright with no hint of nervousness. “I have whiskey” she added teasingly, seeing him hesitate.
“Aye, why not?” He suddenly felt very alive and not a small bit reckless. He had no expectations of her, but the idea of irresponsibly drinking Scapa Glansa on a Sunday night with the woman of his dreams seemed like too good a chance to pass up.
“I only live around the corner, we can walk” Gathering up her book, which lay discarded on the table, and bag she held out a hand to him. He took it and together they walked out into the rainy night
basically, i’ve read a lot of fic, some of which i haven’t seen on rec lists on tumblr anywhere and i just thought that had to be remedied so: here we go. ten fics sorted by word count. most of them are multichapter, and rated M or E.
[edited november 2017 to update the status on some fics!]
Adam Parrish works as a sober companion, but he has no idea of the storm that’s soon to hit him when Ronan Lynch turns out to be his newest client. (Or the one where Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch are trapped underneath the same roof for six weeks.)*Ronan, to his surprise, opened his eyes. For a breathless moment, Adam was transfixed in them. They were the color of the ocean on the most azure of nights, lightning right before it struck the ground, damp hydrangeas on a fog-swept morning. Those eyes gave him chills.
this fic!! solidly one of my favorite fics! (although, i’m only recommending my favorites) ronan is a little more of an asshole than usual, but, it’s an AU so.. it works. the writing in this is lovely and poetic and leaves you hanging off of every word.
Stay With Me - Dick Grayson x Reader (Heartlines Soulmate AU)
(A/N: Sorry if the medical stuff is incorrect, I don’t really know anything about medicine.)
Heartlines had always fascinated you. As a child, you had wanted to become a matchmaker from the minute you started seeing them, to be a person who helped others find the soulmate at the end of their string. Alas, life had led you down a different path; one that had landed you in the Bludhaven ER you currently work in. Being a trauma surgeon was, among other things, time-consuming, leaving you with much more important things to do than trying to follow your heartline. Work was a major part of your busy life, and you had no intentions of finding your soulmate anytime soon- but fate had other plans.
“Y/N, I know you just got your break, but we need you. Motorcycle collision, the victim is coming in now. He has lacerations and severe bruising on his arms, legs, and face, as well as suspected trauma to the head. Potential internal bleeding and organ damage. Overall, it could be worse, but it’s not pretty,” a nurse informed you, handing you a file. You glanced over it, setting down your unfinished coffee before standing. Richard Grayson, the adopted son of Gotham’s Bruce Wayne.
“No helmet, naturally. Alright, it’s go time, then.” You started towards the ambulance bay, trying to ignore that fact that your heartline was heading in the same direction. A stretcher rushed in to meet you.
“Dr. L/N?” one of the paramedics asked you. You nodded your reply, focusing on the patient. Your heart stopped when you realized the string in his chest connected to your own.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you said. The paramedics pushing the stretcher turned to you, alarmed.
“What is it?” a younger woman asked.
“My soulmate,” you answered, voice more strained than you desired, “is lying on this stretcher. Now let’s move. We need to assess the damage done to his head and spine and check for internal bleeding. There’s a good chance that he’s concussed, as well. He’ll need a CT scan… can somebody go get that prepped?” You threw yourself into your work, trying to not be phased when the man let out a pained moan as he was moved onto a new stretcher.
“Check for any neurosurgeons on call. We’ll need them after the CT,” you directed a nurse. You checked the patient over.
“Heart rate is slightly elevated, which is to be expected. Normal heartbeat and breathing. Bruising on the chest is indicative of broken ribs, and…” you announced.
“Dr. L/N, the CT is prepped. Is the patient ready to be taken in?” a nurse asked, cutting you off.
“Yes, now let’s get this done.” You wheeled his stretcher up to the door, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness that overcame you when the radiologist took over. He’s my soulmate, for God’s sake, is there anything else I can do now? Christ, Richard, you’ve really gotten yourself in deep… You noticed a bit of a commotion at a nurse’s station.
“Is he alive? Oh, god, I hope he’s alive,” a blonde girl said, clutching furiously onto the hand of a dark-haired boy. The nurse looked stressed, to say the least.
“Can you at least tell us where he is at the moment?” a man asked. You realized that he was Bruce Wayne.
“If you are referring to a Mr. Richard Grayson, he is currently undergoing a CT scan, which unfortunately does not allow him to be visited at the moment. As for your previous question, he is alive, and we are doing our best to keep him that way,” you told them.
“Do you know the extent of his injuries yet?” The question came from the boy, who you assumed to be Tim Drake.
“Not fully, no. We won’t until the radiologist provides us with the results of the CT scan. We suspect though, that he is suffering from a concussion and potential brain damage as well as potential internal bleeding,” you answered. The blonde girl spoke again.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” You bit your lip.
“Until we know exactly how much damage there is, I won’t be able to make a good judgment. But I sincerely hope so.”
“Dr. L/N!” a nurse interjected. “The scan is finished and the results are in with the radiologist. What now?” You started walking briskly back towards the trauma center.
“Let’s clean and bind the external wounds. With accidents like this, lacerations tend to have pavement and gravel inside, so be sure to be thorough. Set him up on a heart monitor if we haven’t already; we won’t take any drastic actions until the results get back unless we encounter a threatening problem with his vitals,” you directed. This is going to be a painfully long wait.
You studied the CT results, pleased to see only minor injuries to the head and spine. What worried you, though, was the bleeding in his abdomen.
“Get four pints of O- blood and an anesthetist, and prep an operating room. We need to drain the excess blood and stop the source of the bleeding, but we need to be prepared for a blood transfusion.” As you prepared for the operation, you felt a new kind of anxiety than usual.
“Hey, Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out? I mean, he’s your soulmate after all, are you certain you can handle this?” your fellow surgeon asked you. You nodded.
“The exact reason I wouldn’t complete this surgery is the exact reason I have to. No matter what, I have to know that I did something, that I tried,” you replied. When the operation began, you lost yourself into the procedures. The first part went seamlessly, you were able to remove the excess blood and stop the blood flow from his liver, which had been damaged in the accident. But a fast-paced beeping started sounding, an ominous alarm that something had gone wrong.
“He’s going into hypovolemic shock,” another surgeon announced. You immediately hooked up another pint of blood to his arm. He’d lost too much blood.
“Come on, stay with me, stay with me,” you begged, desperately hoping that the blood transfusion could save him.
“Y/N, go get some fresh air. We’ll take it from here,” someone told you. You weren’t really listening, but stepped out of the room. Your plea repeated over and over in your head: stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me. You looked down at your heartline, unsure of what you would do if it faded to black. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me.
Okay, so far Heartlines ch9 seems on track for Sunday (hmm, someone makes his appearance), but until then, here’s a peek at one of the fics I’ve completed for the @exyordeath-zine that’ll be out later this year (I’ve a couple of fics in it).
Andrew was about to go sit on a bench when he heard his name
be called out again and found Riko and the others approaching him – Riko with a
smug smile on his face, Day with a glower, Moreau blank and Wesninski… hmm, the
kid’s eyes were pale blue and his expression attentive. Andrew took a moment to
notice that before Riko spoke.
“Andrew Doe, seventeen years old, remanded to the state of
California for grand theft auto and destruction of property, with further
charges of assault and battery.” Riko’s voice had a slimy quality to it, in
Andrew’s opinion, was too slick and smug as befitted someone used to getting
what they wanted, was used to being adored… adored and perhaps feared,
considering the way that Moreau’s grey eyes tracked the Japanese teenager at
all times. That Wesninski kept his body between Riko and Moreau, kept them both
just out of reach of the striker while also dividing his attention between Riko
and his surroundings.
How both of the young men’s pale eyes had a certain
emptiness to them that Andrew wasn’t used to seeing outside of kids he’d run
into at the centers between foster homes or at WB and Emerson. An emptiness
which spoke of having endured too much and having too much taken away, until
nothing else was allowed to show through anymore.
“I’m speaking to you, Doe,” Riko said with a hint of
annoyance in his voice, and Andrew forced himself to glance away from Wesninski
and Moreau, to look at Riko instead and noticed how even that time, Day
flinched a little. Yet Andrew didn’t react, all he did was cock his head to the
side as he met Riko’s dark gaze.
“I thought you were here to play a game, not go over my rap
Riko’s smile widened as he crossed his arms over his chest
as he attempted to stare down Andrew. “Oh Nathaniel, how nice, another one with
a smart mouth. If we sign him you could be a matched set.”
“Aw, Riko, you know you don’t mean that. No one can come
close to me,” Wesninski – Nathaniel – ‘teased’ back with a smile even though
his eyes remained empty as he gazed at Andrew. “Though have to say, it’ll be
nice to have someone on the team shorter than me.” As he spoke, he gave a very
slight shake of his head.
Puzzled by that – was Nathaniel telling him not to join the
Ravens or something? – Andrew snorted in derision. “Not by much.” The kid only
had about two inches on him, not exactly something to crow about. “Besides, who
says I’m signing?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Day asked as he came to stand next to
Riko. “I’ve seen the videos and you’ve got a lot of raw talent, when you decide
to use it. Despite your lack of reach you can shut down the goal and your
reflexes are amazing, you have an instinctual grasp of where-“ He blinked when
Riko held his right hand up in front of his face.
“Enough, Kevin, we’ve heard all of this before,” Riko said
in a bored tone while Nathaniel’s lips quirked a little and Moreau continued to
stand beside the kid as if he was a living statue. “It’s why we’re here, after
all.” Riko nodded once to Andrew. “Kevin sees enough in you to make you worth
our while, to have us come here before the senseless game with the Trojans, but
we’re not going to beg.” His lips twisted into a sneer on the last word. “We’ll
see how you are in person and if Kevin’s right, you will be offered a standard
contract to play at Edgar Allen. Anyone with an iota of common sense would sign
it.” His tone implied that he was rather doubtful that Andrew possessed any
“He’ll sign it,” Day murmured as if Andrew wasn’t there.
“What else does he have waiting for him? This is his best chance to be something.”
Behind him, Nathaniel frowned then spoke rapid-fire in a foreign language which
sounded like Japanese, something that made Day take to glowering again.
Before Day could respond, Riko did in the same language as
he spun around and latched on to Nathaniel’s left arm to drag him away as if
attending to an unruly child. Andrew caught a quick wince on the kid’s face
before it smoothed out – that and how Moreau finally showed some emotion, an
angry look sent his way before the
backliner fell in step with the other three men.
“Try not to fail too much on the court,” Riko shouted as he
left, while Andrew wished he had his goalie racquet just then so he could smack
it down on the bastard’s head.
He returned to the lockers where the rest of his team were
gathered as Sanchez let everyone know who would be gearing up to play the nine
Ravens for the scrimmage, and when about half of the team took to booing over
having to sit out the game, detoured on the way to his locker for the rest of
his gear to talk to Gabe.
“Wesninski. Talk, now.”
Yeah, Raven!Neil, Andrew still in juvie, my take on Andrew being drafted to the dark side….
She had him pinned against the door. Considering her size she was startlingly strong. She was on her tiptoes, one hand tangled in his hair, her other had a very solid grip on his arse. His own hands were tangled in her her soft brown hair. They kissed with fervour and she relinquished the grip on his backside to have another attempt at getting the key in the lock. This time she was successful and the front door swung open with the force of their combined weight upon it, depositing them very messily on the hall floor. Giggling they attempted to untangle themselves from the other.
“Well, Sassenach, you know how to make a fella feel welcome” He staggered to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. She swayed slightly and he caught her by the elbow.
“Mi casa es su casa” she waved an arm airily, and drunkenly around the hall way. She dragged him down the hall and into the living room. She walked over to a trolley and poured them a very intemperate measure of excellent single malt.
“I reckon you’re worth the good stuff” she smiled at him, holding the glass out to him. He took it and raised it to her. She looked a little worse for wear. Her hair was a riot around her head, no doubt from him having his hands in it, her face was flushed with a combination of whiskey and desire. He suspected he might be in very much the same state. He felt like a teenager. Excited and a little bit afraid. He had never felt this way and to be hit at thirty eight years of age with such a cri de coeur, his heart and soul reaching for another with such intensity, it made his blood pound and his breath catch in his chest.
They stood in the center of the room, glasses in hand. Her eyes never left his. As if drawn like magnets they both closed the gap between them. He took her glass from her and set both on the sideboard. He drew her to him and kissed her again. Whilst it lacked the bruising force of their kisses at the front door, he sought to convey exactly how he felt through it. It was too soon for words, for declarations, but his actions could say what he could not speak out loud. It went on for a long time. His hands were on her face and he gently stroked her cheeks with his thumb as he kissed her. Claire, in turn, melted into him, one hand warm on the back of his neck whilst the other moved softly through his hair. They broke apart and they stood, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed breathing each other in. Her hair smelt of of something vaguely citrusy, and he caught the scent of her perfume, a light, fresh scent.
“Mo Nighean donn” he murmured, running his hands through her hair. She leaned back slightly and cocked an eyebrow questioningly.
“It means my brown haired lass” he said this with such reverence that her color heightened.
“Will you stay, Jamie?”
Her words seared through him, the thought of staying the night, of being in her bed. God, he wanted to her. He wanted to sweep her off of her feet and carry her up the stairs and lay her down and worship her. He wanted to feel her soft skin against him as he made love to her. He wanted to hear her cry and sigh and moan his name. But it was too soon. Had they not had so much to drink it might be different, but he was drunk enough to botch it and she was drunk enough to regret it. When he had her first he wanted to be present, physically and emotionally. And he wanted her to be too.
He took a step back and stroked her face.
“I dinna think that’s wise, Mo Nighean Donn. We’ve had a lot of whiskey aye?”
She looked hurt. “Oh, oh, I see” Jamie could see she plainly didn’t.
“Sassenach. Claire, I want you more than I ever knew it was possible to want another person. I want ye so much I can scarcely breath. And I want to know you feel the same way. When the time comes, I want to know it’s no just because ye’ve had too much whiskey.” He lifted her chin so that their eyes met. She nodded shakily and he kissed her again.
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow, Claire? I ken it’s not much space but.. “
“Yes, yes, I’ll have dinner with you, Jamie” she answered before he could finish.
“Will you come to my house? Or would you rather go to a restaurant?”
“It depends” she retorted starting to recover her humour “can you cook?”
He laughed. “I’ll have you know I am an excellent cook. My mother made sure of it”
“Well in that case, I’d be delighted to sample your culinary talents”
She walked him to the door where they kissed again and he very nearly took back his earlier decision not to take her to bed. This was woman was more intoxicating than the whiskey.
The kiss broke and she gave him a gentle shove.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jamie.”
He wasn’t sure why, but he turned and gave her a little bow before blowing her a kiss and walking out into the cool, damp night.
After ten years trying to find someone respectable and proper to stand
by his side, Thorin’s father, Thráin, finally decides with the help with
Gerundius Took, that his son needs to wed as soon as possible.
Gerundius’ grandsoon, although first in line of the Took family, has
always lived as a commoner. The idea of marrying someone their family
chose is not ideal, but they know their duties as heirs, and Bilbo will
have to go to Erebor to meet his future husband, his family and culture,
and learn how to become a Prince so one day he can become King.
Review: Seriously, you guys, this fic is made of sunshine, wild flowers, rainbows and everything nice, the amounts of fluffy on this, I can’t even! The writing is amazing and enticing, the caracterization is super on point, the plot is hella cute and interesting, and the latest chapter left me with a ridiculous smile on my face even hours after reading. If you had a bad day and need something beautiful and cute to cheer you up,THIS FIC IS FOR YOU!
Not convinced yet? So let me tell you that: Dís is a cute badass with capital B! Thorin is the cutest and most awkward asshole ever and doesn’t know how to flirt! Bilbo, my smol son is soft and nice but takes no shit! FRERIN IS FAB AS FUCK! All the dwarves are so lovely, just… They are perfect!!! Thranduil is such a cute father, he and Legolas just made me cry a lot, tears of joy, of course, they are so cute and soft!!! DWORI!!!
JUST, SERIOUSLY, TRUST ME, IF YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY GO READ THIS FIC!!!
Summary: When Reader moves into Avengers Tower to finish her PhD in safety, the last thing she expects is to have something in common with the shy insomniac Bucky Barnes.
A/N: hi guys! so this is my first ever fic posted on tumblr! i hope you guys enjoy it, there’s a bit of set up in this part but i promise there’s more bucky action in the future! if you have any feedback pls hit me up, i appreciate any comments :) thanks for reading! t xx
It’s not the first time you’ve been in the common kitchen at Avengers Tower, but it is your first time as a resident. Finally, officially, with your last box of sci-fi novels rescued from the wrong removalist van, you’ve moved into the Tower. The coffee from Tony’s state of the art machine has never tasted so good.
Tony rarely uses the kitchen for breakfast (he’s never around before noon) but today he’s made an exception. He’s not feeling so out of character as to put on actual clothes, and so while you’re in your usual pressed best, he is un-ironically wearing a matching Iron Man pyjamas set.