Summary: I don't know where my phone went, can't hear Valya anymore but I can see her. Starring back alongside my reflection in the oven door. Jaw set and arms crossed and I don't have to be able to hear her to know she's saying "what the fuck are you doing?" She's right. As usual. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, I don't even know who the fuck I am anymore.
Words: 3,000
Rating: General Audiences
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Thank you!! 🧡 Whoops lot of angst set ambiguously far into the tour or possibly post tour
Tw for references to self harm
Pacing. Pacing. Pacing. It was all Akari forced her frantic mind to focus on. Obsessive circles around the room as fast as she could without making enough noise to disturb Seven in bed. Left foot in front of the right, pivot, dont lose balance and bump into the tv stand or dresser. Do another lap. Again. Again.
She wanted a drink.
More then anything she wanted a drink. To feel the familiar burn and wait for every shitty feeling to fade away into a haze of warm numbness. Make this all stop and go away. Its would fix her, this time it would surely fix her.
If it didn't there was always other methods that could. Even from its place haphazardly thrown over a chair in the corner, she could feel the burning presence of her lighter in her jacket pocket. Arms itching for pressure. Pain. Distraction.
But she'd promised. Swore to Seven that first night they reconciled that she'd do better. Try to stop. And she had meant it, every word, she just didn't realize that it would never really go away. Once she was doing better that was it, right? And she'd been doing great! Better then she'd been in years and yet here she was, wearing a hole in the carpet, fighting against every urge she'd ever had.
Nightmares weren't really new. But being back together with, and sleeping in the same bed as Seven again was. Akari's best guess is that combination is what scared her more. Still too new. Too fragile. Too risky. She didn't want to fuck everything up again.
Another lap. Maybe she'll calm down this time.
Maybe the problem was the nightmare was about Seven? Twisted perceptions and worst fears come reality. Cruel and unusual punishments from her brain. She'd woken up in a cold sweat, tears running down her cheeks and lungs heaving to get her to remember how to breathe. She'd shot out of bed, wavered on what to do and where to go in her initial panic, finally turning to walking the floor because if she left the room she knew she'd go to a bar.
Her stomach rolled, too many circles had finally been achieved. She had to stop. Couldn't go back to bed yet. Still too keyed up. Akari raked her hands through her hair, pulling until it hurt. Why had nobody told her it would be this fucking hard?
Continuing pacing wasn't the move, she swayed on her feet amidst rolls of nausea, continuing anyways because what else could she do? On her next loop by the bedside table she snatched up her water bottle, disappointed and anguished to find it empty. Fuck.
Going back to bed wasn't an option, which left her with two choices. Keep pacing until she got sick for real, or bite the bullet and leave the bedroom to get something to drink and calm her insides back down.
Akari finally came to a jagged halt, swaying on her feet and taking a step back to steady herself. The door was in front of her. It was fine. All she had to do was open it, go to the fridge, and grab a bottle of water. Easy. It should be easy. Why couldn't this be easy?
As soon as her hand wrapped around the handle she jerked it back like it was burning. She couldn't do this. It was stupid. It was a door for fucks sake. It opened up to the little sitting and kitchen area. That's it. Not the outside, not a bar, not a booze store, just the damn kitchen. That's it. Inside, private, vice-free. If she wanted to blow up her life it would be a conscious decision and she actively did not want to do that so there shouldn't be an issue.
Akari stood in front of the door for what felt like an hour before the idea hit her. If she was scared of ehat she'd do once over the threshold, she'd just make it impossible to do it.
With a little more struggle then she'd care to admit, she pulled her shirt up and over her head, leaving her upper body exposed to the slight chill of the night, throwing her shirt into the far corner of the room. There. She'd never go out like this, so problem solved. The additional extra steps should be enough to keep her here and sober and fine.
And people say she's stupid. Fucking genius is what this is.
Newfound confidence took her out the door and to the fridge, flinging it open only to immediately wince at the sudden motion and light piercing the darkness of the room and her vision.
"Gah! Mother fuckin' hell."
The room went sideways, she took another step back, digging her palms into her eyes in a desperate attempt to make it stop. Staggering further back into the room until her foot caught the carpet, sending her toppling down towards the floor, crash landing on her back.
"Fuck!"
Great. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and her previous disposition had yet dissipated. If anything, she wanted that drink more now.
"Akari...?"
Oh fuck her, and now she'd woken Seven up with all her fumbling around. Maybe if she didn't say anything Seven would go back to bed. Laying on the floor in the dark is hardly the worst way she'd spent a night. Sounded kinda nice actually, she hadn't had a floor nap in a hot minute. Not a sober normal one anyway.
"You good out here?"
Just ignore her. It isn't ignoring if its for her own good. Seven doesn't deserve more of her shit, not when they've been working on finding their balance again. Akari had already put her through so much. Over and over again. This is one thing she didn't want to fuck up again.
Sober. Focus on the word. That's what she is right now. Sober and intact and not inflicting anything on herself. Behaving. Still shaken. Still scared Seven will find her on the floor behind the couch.
But sober and uninjured.
"I know you're out here I heard the banging, is everything–" Seven's rising panicked questions cut off at the same time Akari bites down on her tongue as something strikes her shoulder. "Akari?"
Fuck. Caught.
"Hey there," Akari cracked a grin at the Seven shaped silhouette leaning over her, when she couldn't make out a smile in return, her face softened. "Didn't mean to wake you, sorry bout that. I'm fine Sev, go back to bed."
"Its three in the morning and you're on the floor." The deadpan remark stung more then it ought to, Akari could basically feel Seven's eyes narrowing in on her.
She had to tell her something. Majority truth rules. She'd never lied to Seven and she wasn't about to start. "Look, I had a bad dream and needed some space. It's nothing."
The Seven shape shifted, gesturing towards the couch that loomed over Akari from the other side. "And you're on the floor because?"
"You've had floor naps before and we both know it," Akari crossed her arms, "don't pretend you're all high and mighty with the big, soft double bed. This hits different." She would've ended up here anyways even if she didn't fall. Less worry for Seven this way. "A bed that you should be getting back to."
"I'd like it better if you joined me again," if it wasn't for how deadly quiet the room was, Akari probably wouldn't have heard her. Soft and spoken with such uncertainty that it make Akari hurt all over.
And it made this hurt worse, "I don't think that's a good idea. And you know I don't want to say that but...but I think it's the better call right now."
"Can I sit?"
It came so abrupt that Akari had to lay there and process the request. "Course," was all she could get out. Insides all light and jittery. Things were better, so much better, but still weird sometimes and she supposed this was one of them.
As she lowered herself down, Seven came into a little better focus. Gently lit up by the ambient city lights from the window, sitting at Akari's head and leaning down into her line of sight. Her hair was a mess, she was chewing on her lower lip. "It was about me, wasn't it?"
"I never said that." What was she supposed to say? Yes? That she was, is, occasionally haunted and tormented by her subconscious with images of Seven yelling at her, hating her, casting her aside and replacing her and a whole onslaught of other horrible bullshit? That she wakes up scared and crying and in a cold sweat with the most intense ick and self hatred she's ever felt? That's a horrible fucking idea, even she knew that.
Seven ducked her head, too-long strands of hair falling over her eyes, "you didn't have to." There was a pause, Akari could hear the deepening of Seven's breaths, not uneven, but heavy. "What was it about?"
"Sev, that's not–"
"I won't break you know. Don't coddle me, I don't want that." Seven's tone was sharp enough that Akari had to tell herself Seven wasn't mad at her. Shake off the lingering nightmare and try to be more present. She was fine. Seven didn't hate her again all the sudden.
"I love you," it was her favourite thing to say when her and Seven started dating the first time, she could never do it enough, and the second time didn't lessen that a bit. And maybe she needed to hear it back to calm down. Maybe.
Seven leaned forward, reaching out of prying Akari's arms off their place folded over her chest. "I love you too," her hands slid down Akari's forearms, over tattoos and healed scars alike, "I love you and I promise I won't let this be a repeat of last time." Her hands finally reached Akari's own, intertwining their fingers together, bringing one up so she could kiss along Akari's knuckles. "I meant it. That I'm gonna fix those parts of me, I want this," she mirrored the action on Akari's other hand, "us to work."
Seven Lawless declarations never really got old. Leave it to her to take one simple phrase and run so far with it that it made Akari's head spin and cheeks heat up.
"So," Seven squeezed their hands tighter together, underlying laughter catching the edge of her words, "tell me about dream Seven, I hear she's a fucking asshole."
AU-ish thing caught in my brain this morning. Half awake visions of Valya and dark blue lipstick while laying in bed. Based on the not a regene post from a week or so ago. I have many thoughts. But not an Anathema oddly enough? I dunno. Anyway Valya and lipstick and some other stuff
Ao3
It was objectively a bad idea. Stupid. So fucking stupid. What made them agree to attend the press conference was far beyond them. The fact that it was about their relationship and subsequent engagement to the Marshal was purely coincidence. As far as Valya was concerned, if they were asked, then that meant that they could've refused. And they should have.
They'd been here plenty of times. It's just that they'd been a spectator at best. The far larger than it needed to be room in the Rangers' HQ where the media team tore your self-esteem to shreds. Sit and stay still while too many people touch you and make sure you look proper and presentable for the cameras. But it had always been watching Julia. Chatting. Visiting. Distraction. Whatever they needed to be, while some asshole lectured her on and on about how she should be doing this or that or avoiding something else entirely. They remember getting dragged out for lashing out after the way they'd treated her when she'd cut her hair. Nothing good comes from this room.
And yet here they were. Frozen in place in a chair, afraid to move, least they get chewed out for fidgeting or wrinkling their dress shirt again. It wasn't the same but was still sickeningly familiar to how their parents played dress up with them all those years ago. Sit still and be fixed. Look correctly. Not trusted to look after themself. Clothing picked out by someone else, face shaved, makeup, eyebrows, half their piercings removed, hide scars and marks, hair done and not a strand out of place. The stylists wouldn't let them wear it tied up like normal, insisting that it was more presentable down loose and styled.
They hated this. The poking, the prodding, the 'have you considered doing this?' Insufferable. Made their head hurt and stomach churn. Discomfort and memories all in one and the last thing they needed before having to be out in front of who knows how many people.
They can see the back of Julia across the room from them on their mirror. They doubt she's doing much better than they are. The media's always been hard on her, and it's only gotten worse over the years. Makes them wish she'd quit. Run away with them and go somewhere different. Less reporters and cameras and expectations. She won't, though, something they're all too aware of.
It's only when a heavy hand claps down on their shoulder that they jolt back into the present. Stylists no longer present, but they were so focused on behaving and not lashing out telepathically that they hadn't actually noticed.
"Survived?" Julia asks. There's a tinge of amusement under her otherwise genuine sounding tone. More of an attempt at a pick-me-up than poking fun at their discomfort, Valya reminds themself.
"Oh yeah, fucking great," Valya rolls their eyes at their reflection, "I love nothing more then spending what? Two hours? Being constantly touched and told how inferior I am."
They watch as her hand reaches forward and grabs a hair tie off the counter. "They do love their opinions," Julia sighs, sweeping Valya's hair back into their typical bun. "You're too young, you're too old, you're rushing into this, you've waiting too long, what about kids?" They wince as her voice hardens, and she pulls a little too tight at them. They can't say they blame her. She's gotten the worst of it since they announced their relationship, and having kept it secret, it did seem out of nowhere they supposed. "Joder, solo deseo que se fueran de mi vida y nos dejaran en paz."
"Their Marshal, their hero, is out of the blue marrying some weird-ass nobody mod tech that handles all her maintenance. Fucking gulls aren't gonna let this drop for months."
"Ey, be nice." She hits their shoulder and moves to stand in front of them, "that's my future partner you're talking about."
"Pretty." The word sticks in their throat, caught on dry lips. Dark blue dress that compliments warm brown skin, small handful of gold jewelry pieces to pop out. The not-as-expensive-as-it-should-be ring they'd bought her adorning her left hand. The people had left in the stupid fucking earring they'd given her and they can't help but wonder if she'd made them? That felt nice. She's gorgeous, and they cannot for the life of them figure out how they'd gotten here.
"Mmm," Julia hums as she leans down to kiss them, "yes, you are, very. That's much better."
"I meant you, idiot," Valya huffs. Laughing comes so much easier around her they don't think it'll ever get old. "Pretty sure they don't know what to do with me besides make me look as passibly man as possible without saying it outright." It was fine. They could suck it up for one official engagement announcement. They'd been telling themself what others thought of them didn't matter thus far. They could continue. Fuck 'em.
Besides, they could be wrong. It was the way they leaned, rather heavily, really, so maybe they were overthinking it. The stylists could've been oblivious to all the tabloid whisperings for all they knew.
They did look much better with their hair up. More like them and less like a concept. It made Valya beyond happy that Julia didn't care about the others and cared enough about them to undo all that work just to throw it in a poor excuse of an updo.
"Well," Julia sways and takes a step back, pulling Valya to their feet as she goes. "They won't be back now, so we're more than free to put you back together." A wink and a grin, and she's placed the container with their piercings back into their hands.
Fuck they love her.
Makeup washed off, acne and scars on full display, face full of non-conductive metal. Much better. Not so fake. And impressively made them feel notably more prepared to walk out to whatever crowd awaited.
"There you are, much better." Julia smirks, leaning down to kiss them again. Valya was more than happy to return with no little amount of heat and wandering hands. Enough to make them wonder exactly how much time they had before this thing started.
But by the time they finally broke apart, they had other ideas. Wants. Though somehow more embarrassing feeling than potentially getting caught in the act.
"Julia," Valya mutters, looking away as soon as they feel their face heating up. It wasn't like them. This was a surpirse. It felt weird but in a good way that made them continue to see how it goes. "Can I...." they take a shakey hand and point it across the room to where Julia say earlier. "Can I wear some?"
They fixed their eyes on their shoes, horribly aware of the flush that covered their face and ears. Bright red and hot. Arm still extended out to single out the tube of navy blue lipstick on the other counter. The same one that Julia was currently wearing.
They think it's fear. The way they shake and try not to let their breath stick in their throat and choke them. The thought. The want. Had just materialized in their head, and they couldn't shake it. It didn't match or compliment or anything else anyone had attempted to make them look when putting them together. And it wasn't something they'd ever done or felt any need to do before. But it was here now, and they wanted it. Badly.
But it went against how they normally presented, and that took long enough to not have issues around for themself as is. And it certainly wasn't how the media team was trying to present them. And what if Julia thought it was weird, or it looked stupid, or the sensation or texture of it set them off or–
"You think too much, you know that?" They hadn't noticed Julia leaving them. Or that she'd retrieved the new object of their interest. Her hand cupped their cheek, nails digging into their skin in little pinpricks that brought them back to reality. "Hold still."
They did. Stood there cross-eyed as they watched her take the thing and slide it across their lips. It didn't. It didn't feel that bad. Wasn't as noticeable on their skin as they'd feared. And as Julia pulled back, she was smiling.
"Dunno if it's your colour," she was squinting at them, chin held between her thumb and pointer finger. The pose quickly dropped as Valya's eyes widened. "Relax, relax! I was kidding!" Hands up in mock surrender, face lit up in that big stupid smile of hers. "Mi vida, you look fantastic."
Valya leaned around her to get a better look at the mirror. It really wasn't that bad, actually. Out of place, but they supposed maybe that was to be expected. It didn't look as good as it did on her, but the rich blue on their smile was nice. And they matched. They liked that.
"Wanna give them something to really talk about?" Julia smirked, applying more to her own lips. "Napkins are only one way to get rid of the extra," her smile only widened as she leaned in to kiss at Valya's jaw, just underneath their ear. And in her absence was a dark blue print.
Oh, they liked that game.
Wicked grin of their own. Lovingly malicious. Valya's hands slide up to Julia's shoulder, pushing the strap of her dress just enough to the side to make room for them. They didn't bother biting, wasn't worth the risk of messing up the game, but still, the mark that was only partially covered by the fabric was visible and telling enough by itself.
"I think I could get used to that," Valya mutters. They'd been missing out, it seems. They'll have to make up for that.
Julia smiles, taking their hand in hers. "We'll have plenty of time after this is over, so what do you say we get this mess overwith?"
"Ha, yeah, the sooner this is over the the better. Let's fucking go."
Additional Tags: AU Roulette Challenge 2025, AU Roulette 2025, Time Travel, Time Loop, minor possession, depiction of the taste the metal achievement/scar, Alex just has a bad time on loop, forced to confront the reality of the Heartbreak incident, Ortega is Named Julia (Fallen Hero)
Collection: AU Roulette Challenge 2025 (AU_Roulette_Challenge_2025)
Summary: "You," it wheezes, voice raspy and wet, it sounds like it's speaking underwater almost. "You must accept and face the truth."
"What sort of cryptic bullshit is that?"
For the AU Roulette challenge 2025 with the prompt of time travel. In a fight with another villain gone sideways, Alex gets sent back in time to the Heartbreak incident and is forced to face the uncomfortable truth about what really happened that day.
Thank you!!! 🧡 I need something gentle and sweet rn Akari Lucy time
6. hugging and gently holding the other’s head
The streets were deadly quiet, no cars rushing past, no people out walking and laughing together, not even any wildlife was out this late at night. The world was devoid of any signs of life besides Akari and the bright front window of the diner in front of her.
Akari stood leaning agaisnt a streetlight, staring up at the flickering open sign on the door. She felt like a kid again, small and scared, eveything too big and too much to take in. Like eveything else, it had changed. The building had gotten a more modern facelift, repairs and less gaudy colours and signage that tightened Akari's chest just looking at it.
Nothing was the same anymore.
Beside her, Rowan whined, paw resting on top of her shoe as he stared up at her from the sidewalk. She was procrastinating, they both knew it. She should've let Seven come with her, she'd wanted to but Akari had quickly shut that down. She needed to do this alone.
Signing, she wrapped the end of Rowan's leash around her wrist and pushed herself off the post. It was three steps to get her to the door, that hadn't changed, her hand rested agaisnt the glass as she peered inside. Empty. That had changed, the diner had always been full of life, customers and staff always filling up the space like some sort of tv show. It was one of the things she'd loved about it.
Right now though, it worked in her favour. The relief washed over her as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Even the little entry bell was different now, still a real bell at least, but the sound that announced her presence wasn't the same.
"I'll be right with you," Akari froze as the voice echoed around the empty dining area. Not changed. Three years older and a little raspy, but every part as gentle and sweet as she remebered. "Sorry about that," Lucy pushed out the swinging kitchen doors, smoothing her hands down her uniform. "Slow season, running the midnight shift myself, you know how it is–"
Lucy halted as soon as she saw Akari standing there. Eyes wide as she slowly set her serving tray down on the counter.
From her place in the doorway, Akari shuffled under her gaze, ducking her head and awkwardly waving a little. "Hi, Lucy."
It was about all Akari could do not to breakdown in tears right then and there. Lucy looked different to, wrinkles forming on warm brown skin and greys highlighting dark brown hair. She wasn't standing as straight up either, and her hands were shaking just a little. Akari wanted to ask why. It's been closer to four years then three now, so much time, so much change and her heart couldn't take much more.
But she didn't get the chance. Before words could formulate, Lucy had rushed up to her and pulled her into a tight hug.
And then Akari did cry.
It was all so painfully familiar in a way that was comforting but also making it so much worse. Four years. Four years since she'd seen Lucy. Four years since she's talked to her. Four years since she's been hugged in a way that was actually comforting and didn't set her skin on fire. Four years since she's last interacted with the only loving mother figure she'd ever had.
Lucy rubbed her back as she sobbed out apologies and 'I missed you's and anything else that came tumbling out of her mouth as she realized this might be the first time in four years since she felt safe.
Akari sniffed as her head was pulled back, her arms still tightly wrapped around Lucy as she cupped her cheek. "That's enough of that, you have nothing to apologize for sweetheart." Lucy hushed Akari's protests, wrapping her back up, the hand on her cheek moving to cradle the back of her head. "What's important is that you're home again," Lucy whispered, barely audible waver to her own voice.
"I'm sure Seven has already mentioned what my opinion of," Lucy paused. Akari braced herself for the conversation she didn't really wanna have. "What happened between the two of you. I'm sure I don't know all the details either but Akari you didn't deserve how she lashed out. I'm not saying you handled it well either," Akari ducked her head, saying that was an understatement. "But you did not have to remove yourself from the equation."
"I didn't want Seven to be mad that I still talked to you," it was an easier admission then Akari had figured. Full truth. Who in their right mind would keep consistent contact with their ex who hates thems mom? "I did enough to her."
Lucy made a sound that stuck in her throat, cutting off any arguing that would upset Akari of she pushed that she didn't do anything wrong if Akari had to guess. Lucy didn't get it, Akari deserved all Seven did and more.
"Akari," Lucy was rubbing little circles around her back. It was nice. "When Seven left you with the apartment, what happened?"
She swallowed. Tried to keep her breathing from rapidly increasing. Lucy held her tighter, whispered that it was okay if she didn't want to talk. She did. She did a lot. But it'd been so long and everything was different and she didn't know how or what. She could say a little. Not everything. Not yet.
"Couldn't afforded it," she mumbled out into Lucy's shoulder, "had to cut my losses and go back home."
Akari continued as Lucy stiffened, damage control as fast as she could. "I didn't have a choice. It wasn't as bad this time, after five years no contact, they mostly left me alone." Mostly. Much like the drinking, Akari would leave those details out too. There was a lot Lucy didn't know from before, unless Seven told her.
Akari doubted that, Lucy would've sat them both down to talk. Fighting or not.
"Alright," Lucy pulled away, swiping her hand across her eyes. Akari's chest tightened and pulled. "When you're ready. Do not go thinking you aren't welcome or can't talk to me, okay sweetheart? Whatever happens, you're family, you understand?" She straightened up, brushing down her shirt and aporn, "now, look at you! There's nothing left," she exclaimed, pulled Akari along, sitting her down at the counter. "Wait there while I go make you something to eat, I'll make some hot chocolate too, we've got a lot of catching up."
Lucy smiled before disappearing back through the swinging kitchen doors, leaving Akari alone in the diner once again. There was a weight off her shoulders but a new one settled deep in her chest. She'd wasted so much time with Seven and Lucy both and she had no idea how to make that up to either of them. Making up with Seven was easier then this. But she was determined to try.
Thank you! 🧡 some sweet and soft Valya/Julia for the day. Mostly. It wouldn't be them if I didn't get a liiiitle sad at the end lol
35. gentle stroking of cheeks while kissing
[Ao3]
You like when you get to hold her.
You could probably do it more often (and it would make you less of an ass), but it wouldn't be as special then. Maybe it's selfish. You like feeling wanted. Like that you can comfort her and hold her until everything feels a little bit better. Just like she does for you.
It's the middle of the night, and the apartment is almost quiet. Just the hum of the appliances and your heart pounding in your ears. The new couch isn't as nice as the old one, but it's fine for what it is, you suppose. The room is nearly pitch black, and Julia is cuddled up next to you, head resting on your shoulders.
You aren't sure what compelled you to answer her call at two in the fucking morning but you're glad you did. You should've been more careful. It could've been a trap. But the pile of empty bottles reinforces the little feeling that it's not. That you're safe. That she really did call you drunk and alone and wanting to see you.
So you came. Left the comfort and safety of your base in the middle of the night to come see her. You didn't even take your time walking. You found someone sitting in their car and 'convinced' them to give you a lift before thoroughly expunging yourself and your location, even if it was two blocks away still, from his memory.
And that's where things started to go a bit downhill.
You banged on her door to no answer for at least seven minutes. Only to discover it was unlocked when you went to see if you could break in. Something you should probably bring up with her later. If you were a better villain, you'd save that and have Entropy make a surpirse visit, and hopefully, that'd make her back off. But knowing her, she'd just double down on her vendetta. Once you got inside, you noticed she wasn't in the living room like you'd expected. And calling out got you nowhere. So further in you went and that's when you found her.
You thought she was dead.
And even you're aware of what it meant when your heart dropped down to your stomach and all the air felt like it was sucked out of your lungs. You don't want to see her dead. You never wanted that. And once again, all you could do was stand there and stare. Helpless to watch just like with Them-
Nope. Stop that. You'd made to move. Whether to leave or go to her, you really can't say it, but it doesn't matter.
She had moved. Slowly at first, grogginess clinging to her face as she oriented herself again. Then shed pulled herself up from her position laying on the bathroom floor like you didn't think that call was the last you'd ever hear her.
You helped her up. Awkwardly talked as she slurred and mumbled nonsense at you. Got her to the couch, and now you're holding her as she's cuddled right up to you. She stirs again, making the same sort of soft noise the cats at the ranch would when you'd wake them.
"I'm glad you actually came," she pulls away enough that you can see her smile. Big and goofy and pulling at the corners of her eyes. You stiffen as her hands slide up your body, thankfully on the right side of your clothing. "Surpirsed you answered the phone..." Julia's eyes glaze over as she just sits there and stares at you. Stupid smile getting impossibly wider.
You look away. Annoyed at your bodies betrayal as your cheeks heat up. "Yeah, well, so am I," you move your hands to tug your sleeves down further. Just in case. "Idiot. Your door was unlocked. Do you have any idea how stupid that is? And then I find you like..." You gesture at her, "this."
Laughter bubbles up and out of her, only broken up by the occasional snort. You know she doesn't like that, but you still think it's cute. "Don't forget. 'M the Marshall," she huffs and leans back. Teetering fast enough, you reach out and haul her back forward. Which immediately backfires as she decides to shoot her own arms out and grab you, momentum and weight dictate that she goes down and brings you with her. Her back hits the couch. Your face hits her face. Hard. "Will be nothing getting past me."
"Uh-huh." Julia's arms wrap around your waist and hold you against her. You get enough wiggle room to rub at your now sore nose. "Ex-Marshall, and I'm sure your reaction time and reflexes are at their peak when you're like this."
You get a certain amount of both amusement and satisfaction, watching how her face furrows and crinkles as she tries to process what you said. "Hey," you think you can actually see the wheels spinning behind her eyes as she stumbles around, trying to sort her words. "I got you caught, don't I?" Her grip tightens for emphasis. You're hit with the sharp smell of alcohol as she speaks. "That's. That's proof I can do anything." Her eyes light up at that. She's still staring at you with that same single-focused intensity. You're still staring at the space above her shoulder.
There's a lull. You don't know how long. But she just lays there staring at you with that dopey smile. Hands staying at the small of your back. Toying with the hem of your hoodie but surprisingly not going further up.
Instead, when she finally moves again and proves she didn't die with her eyes open, her right hand slides up to cup your cheek. "You're really pretty, know that?"
The feeling rips its way through your chest and burrows itself deep into your heart as soon as she says that. It's deep and burning and makes you feel sick. You want to pull away. Run. Shower. It didn't occur to you that in her drunken haze, she'd think you were Sidestep again, but now the thought won't leave you alone.
"Hey," her face softens as she strokes her thumb across your cheek. You still lean into the touch. "I mean that. Pretty." Anything else leaves your mind as she pulls you down, lips meeting hers in a soft, tender kiss. More than you'd think she was capable of given her current state. She tastes like cheap beer and tequila, burning at your tongue as hers skims across your lips, waiting for permission. You let her, breathing getting heavier as she deepens the kiss, tongue swirling around your stud.
You're almost gasping for breath when she finally pulls away. Your whole body is hot, and you can feel the sweat dripping at the back of your neck. "I'm glad you're here," Julia laughs as she talks, kissing her way across your face in between words. "....missed you."
She isn't going to remember any of this, so you see little point in attempting to be eloquent. "Right. I. I uh...I missed you too." You don't think it's a lie. "Would you ease up on the death grip? I can fucking move." You need to move. The alternative is laying here on top of her while she looks at you like you're about to vanish again. She doesn't oblige. "Julia, I need to fucking get up. Let go of me." The smile is gone. Clear from her face as her grip tightens of all things. Those big brown eyes are still locked onto you, but they aren't shining anymore.
"Don't go?"
Fuck.
If you didn't know her better, you'd say she sounded scared. Not Julia Ortega, though. The mighty Charge. Aptly named for her boost and her idiotic tendency to charge headfirst at any and everything with all the confidence in the world.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She does think you're Sidestep, doesn't she? And that you're going to up and leave her again. Fucking hell you need a smoke. But you know that isn't happening so you'll settle for the next best thing.
"I'm not leaving, idiot. I'm going to make coffee." Solves two of your problems at once. You can get up and pace and get something into your system.
And think about how the fuck you got here.
She's smiling again. Apparently your in her eyes threatened abandonment all but forgotten. "I'm good, thanks."
"It wasn't for you, it's for me," you bite back. You doubt she's thristy after who knows how much she's had tonight.
Your answer must've been acceptable, her arms loosen around you, and you can immediately breathe easier. You shift your weight to get up, but not before she pulls you back in for another kiss.
Thank you!! Ooh these are very sweet and I think go together quite nicely~
11. welcome home kisses
54. sleepy kisses
Ao3
It's nearing 3am when you finally stumble in the door. Fucking lock took five tries to take the keys but you won, and for the victor comes the spoils. In this case, it was taking ten steps inside and collapsing onto the couch. The cool leather welcomes you, but it's only a pitstop, a temporary resting place until your legs feel like going the rest of the way to the bedroom.
You fish your flask out of your back pocket and empty the remaining booze from it. It always lasts longer on a job, you have less free time to stop and drink after all. Security systems and heroes hardly care if you're parched or wanting, and it's in your best interests that they don't even catch a glimpse of Vex hard at work.
It was a good night, not an outstanding one, but fine anyway. The collector didn't have as much in her home as your sources promised, but enough that it wasn't a wasted effort. The teardrop shaped kunzite, vibrantly pink and violet, sits safe and secure in your base and makes the night well worth your time and energy. A high-end polished cut that will net you a very high buyer should you choose to sell it.
But that's a tomorrow Alex problem. Or maybe next week Alex. Right now, you have to peel your body off the couch before it decides you live here.
Every ounce of you grumbles as you rise up off the furniture, swaying on your feet before steadying enough that you're confident you can get to bed without breaking your nose again.
If it wasn't for the pitch blackness of the apartment, you're pretty sure your vision would be fuzzed and blurred. Spinning this way and that. Your head feels like it's underwater. The hallway is harrowingly navigated by touch and memory, hand sliding along the walls like it's done many times before now.
Almost like this place was your own.
The bathroom is bypassed in favour of heading straight for the bedroom. Your armour does a sufficient job at lightening the level of exertion you need to accomplish things and keeps you pretty cool, you're fine with sleeping without a shower, it's not like you want to deal with that at the moment anyway.
Once you've gotten yourself over the threshold, you're confident enough to multitask. Dexterity stops you short, though, pausing in the middle of the room to fight with the buttons of your shirt. Cojones, if your fingers would just work. Once free of it, it's tossed to the floor with no small amount of contempt. The undershirt comes off nice and easy even if you did get it stuck while pulling it over your head and almost topple backwards into the dresser. Your belt was about as hard as the lock, but once your hands get the hang of it, it was easy. Gravity is your friend tonight as your pants and shorts drop to the floor, and you step out of them.
You're reminded of how much nicer then bed is opposed to the couch as soon as you sink down into it. Soft and warm and arguably the only nice thing about needing to sleep. You wrangle yourself under the covers, wriggling around until you can get yourself comfortable.
There's movement next to you, drawing your efforts at getting situated to a halt in hopes you didn't wake her. You lay and watch as the shadowy figure rolls over, an arm extending to poke at your cheek. Ay cojones, you did wake her.
"Make yourself at home, why don't you?" Carmen's voice is thick with sleep, quiet whispers despite it only being the two of you here.
Your own voice is less hushed. You aren't sure you control that right now. "You're the one who gave me a key, it'd be stupid not to use it," you point out. "This was closer than my own place."
Why the fuck would you trek back to your own apartment when there was a perfectly good bed within easy walking distance?
"Don't tell me," you yawn, betraying your own state of tiredness, "that you want me to text when I'm coming over or something." You more her hand to rest on the back of your shoulders, pulling her a but closer. She's very warm. "I'm working it's closer, and where's the fun without a little bit of potential for surprise?"
You can't see her, but her breath is hot against your lips in a way that makes you wish you could keep your eyes open. "And you're lucky I like you and gave you that key because most people wouldn't find waking up to someone naked in their bed who wasn't there before all that endearing."
The kiss is short, her lips pressed against yours, and she tastes faintly of that cheap coconut chapstick she likes so much. "Welcome home, I suppose," she murmers, "I guess this means whatever you were doing was successful?"
"Very." You catch her arm before she pulls away and kiss her again, wanting and desperate and a little messier than usual, but hey, it's nearly four in the morning, and you're both tired. "You'll see it on the news by the morning, I would hope." You're sure the press likes to take their sweet ass time just to spite you.
"Because I'm sure we'll be awake at the crack of damn dawn to watch it," Carmen laughs, you both know it's going to be a 2pm at best kind of day. She pulls away for real this time, twisting you around as she does so that your back is pressed up against her chest. She kisses down your nape and shoulders as her arms wrap around you, letting you both settle in and relax.
You don't mind getting held like this so much anymore.
These are a hard set! Very fun to work through, though! This actually worked surprisingly well with an idea I'd been rolling around but got stuck on, and now I'm unstuck, and how lovely is that. Hypothetical post-game that could also technically be read as post crash
[Ao3]
"We have to keep going, no matter what."
"I wish things could be different."
The waiting is the hardest part. Here I am, sitting in a hallway waiting area with nothing better to do but try to keep myself from falling apart at the idea of the news being bad. It's hour eleven of a twelve hour surgery, I'm hungry and tired and anxious and sick at the thought that there's still only a slim chance he comes out of there alive.
The woman across from me isn't making it easier either. Not sure how I feel about the Rangers anymore, but I guess I always liked Charge. And I know firsthand how hard it is to watch someone you care about in a hospital and be powerless to do anything about it. But I also know I'm no doctor and to just let them do their jobs and give their patients the best care they can.
The level of entitlement from her is a bit sickening, to be honest.
She should be in a room herself, skin and suit both smeared in blood and ripped to shreds in places, loosely bandaged in others. She looks like she's been through hell and back, and I don't doubt she probably has been, but she's still causing a disturbance and holding up the staff.
There she goes again, trying to get back into the room she sits outside of. It's been a continuous excursion for the last hour and a half, ever since her and whoever was in there got brought into the ward. And surprise surprise, just like every other time, there's a commotion of words from her I can't make out, alarms blaring, and a group of doctors rushing into the room and hauling her struggling from the room before going back to stabilize the person inside.
Another ten minutes go by before the staff exit the room and go their respective ways, save for a tall, black man who moves to stand in front of her chair. He readjusts his glasses and signs, and I tune out before I know more than I should. There's a brief moment where Charge looks like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar, eyes downcast, and a little deflective smile. The doctor is immune to her charms, though, his arms cross, and I catch him saying something about how she's doing more harm than help before he puts a hand on her shoulder with some parting words and walks away.
And as soon as he's around the corner, she's back up on her feet and peering into the little window on the door.
I can't help it. It's been a long few days. I snap. "I'm no genius, but were you not just told to stay out of there again?"
"You don't know them." She replies, and yeah, no shit, but that doesn't hold much relevance here. "They don't like hospitals."
"Yeah, pretty sure most people don't." She still hasn't turned around from the door, I'd never realized how tall she was before. "I'm not stupid either. You set alarms off when you enter, and it isn't the call the doctors kind. There's something up there, and even disregarding that, you're still calling doctors away from what they're doing to undo the damage you're doing."
That got her attention. She's facing me now. Shoulders squared back with all the authority she doesn't have here. "You aren't special. Just sit and wait like the rest of us and let the people do their damn jobs! Whoever is in there is worse off for you being here and getting in the fucking way. Just let the best doctors the Rangers can steal away from other departments do their thing and be grateful you can even see them. Some of us aren't so lucky."
I can feel my shoulders shaking as I try to calm my breathing down. Tears are starting to pool in the corners of my eyes. I'm not ready for this. How can I?
"You're right."
There's movement, and I snap my head up, half expecting her to be towering above me. But she isn't. She's back in her chair, looking much smaller all of a sudden. Less like an entitled hero and more like a person scared to lose someone.
I sigh, I feel bad leaving her like this, even if she did deserve the wakeup call. And we're both stuck here waiting, even if she really shouldn't be doing that either. Might as well make the most of it, maybe it'll distract me or something.
"You're just going to have to trust them, they know what they're doing." My hands are shaking as I uncap my water and take a few swigs. "It sucks but we've just got to keep going no matter what, and trust that they're getting the best care they can."
I don't bother mentioning bleak outlooks, I'm sure she knows all about that, and I'd honestly rather not dwell on it more than I already have.
She just sits there for a minute, scratching at the back of her hands and shifting around in the chair. "They aren't awake, but they react when I'm in the room," she turns her head and looks at the door. Her shoulders slump, and a frown tugs at her mouth. "Just not in a good way. They're scared of me now."
That explains the alarms and everyone rushing into the room and shoving her out. Sounds like the patient endangering themself or something, and if it's close to the Rangers, I bet they're boosted or something. Could cause a whole situation.
Which makes her even more careless for repeatedly running into that damn room, but....I can't say I can entirely blame her. They're obviously close, and I guess I can't say what I'd do in that situation. I know if I could be in the operating room with him right now, I would. And the thought of not being able to be there, be close, is all too real right now, but in that capacity, it sounds worse.
"Well, I'm, I'm sorry to hear that. That must be hard." I shuffle my feet and look around the hall. It's quieter now, besides the ambient nosies of the ward. "And I'm sorry for what I said, been a rough few days. I'm sure they'll be happy to know that you stayed when they wake up."
That's assuming she doesn't cause some sort of disturbance and actually listens. But I'll leave that unsaid. I look back down the hallway. Still no surgeon coming towards me.
Charge flexes her hands and stretches. She's more slouched in her chair than sitting in it now. "Mierda, I can hope," she drags a hand through short curly hair in what I can assume was an attempt to fix it some. In actuality, she just mussed it up more, and now there's blood streaked through that as well. "Not sure what I'd do if they stay scared of me...." She laughs a little awkwardly, sort of a dry chuckle. I think, given any other situation or had I not been a hospital stranger, that maybe this isn't something she'd just openly admit.
"I'm waiting for my husband, he's in surgery," I offer up. I think it's only fair at this point. "Odds aren't in his favour, but there's a chance." And that's what I have to hold onto. Ten percent is still something. There's always hope.
I won't tell her it's the Rangers fault, that would be cruel. And she wasn't at the scene anyway so I guess it really doesn't matter.
She starts her own 'I'm sorry to hear that' when the doctor from before briskly strides back over, and she straightens back up. They talk for a bit, he shows her a clipboard of something, shakes her hand, and he's stepped into the room again. She doesn't move. Doesn't speak. She's just staring at the wall ahead of her.
I should get up. Pretend I need the restroom and give her some privacy to process whatever that was. But I might miss the surgeon, and I'm not waiting longer for an update than I have to. She's equally as free to leave, and she's still here anyway.
Time crawls by as we sit there in the hall, waiting for the inevitable and miraculous alike. At some point, she buried her head in her hands, and I'm thinking the news wasn't great. But she isn't sneaking back into the room, so maybe she's taking this seriously now.
Sometimes the best way to help is the hardest.
"I wish things could be different," I speak without thinking. To myself or to her, I'm not entirely certain. "Just sitting here, powerless to do anything but wait. You never think it's going to happen to you until it does." My water is long gone now, I unscrew the cap and push all the air out of it until it's compacted into a plastic disk. "You don't wish it on anyone else, but you do wish it wasn't you."
Charge sits back up and looks over my way again. Her expression is a little softer, not a smile, but it's close. Maybe I was speaking for the both of us.
She starts to say something but is cut short by the sound of footsteps. I recognize the woman, not as tall as Charge but close, tanned skin, dark hair that looks black until the fluorescent lights hit it, and you can tell its purple. She's been the main nurse on my husbands care team. This must be it. I swallow, take a deep breath, and keep my attention on her.
"Mr. Liú, if you could come with me please. We have news about your husband."
