You... don’t need to be sorry. Your likes are fair enough dude. I wasn’t @ing you specifically- it’s a paring I don’t like, and what you like is up to you. That’s why I censored the name and didn’t tag the post, I didn’t want it to get in the tag of ppl who enjoy it. So I’m sorry if that’s how you found the post.
Edit: And also? I didn’t even know you wrote Desmond/Darcy until I just went to your blog now? I don’t read stuff I have no interest in, and even if I do, I’m not a dick to the author. Nothing in that post was anything to do with you specifically?
Since you commented, I will say that I… I just have zero tolerance for Darcy in fanfic for a plethora of reasons and can barely stand her character. So Darcy/Anyone is an automatic NOTP that I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. You’re welcome to enjoy it, that’s nothing to do with me.
I’m telling y’all right now: this prompt has angst written all over it, Uru is an enabler, and this shit gets sad fast. 0 to 1000 real quick. And yes, its a self- and friend-insert.
“Mauisse.”
Mauisse jumps, looking down at Jim with startled eyes. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
She was stood behind his chair, forcing Spock to stand opposite. She looked like absolute shit but she only slept when Jim did. And that usually meant she forced her way into Jim’s quarters.
A moment later, she realizes she has a hand in his hair, playing with it. Spock even has an eyebrow raised, watching her. Slowly, Mauisse withdraws her hand. As a child, she frequently played with her mama’s hair. She tried to do the same with her father’s and even Admiral Pike’s, but they hadn’t taken to it the same way. They didn’t get playing with another’s hair was a coping mechanism for her.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she mutters, lacing her hands behind her back. There’s a tremble to her hands, a bending steel beam in her shoulders, a mist in her eyes. “I let my mind wander.”
Everyone on the bridge remember the weeks she’d spent near catatonic. Only Bones, Spock, and Noemi had seen the worst of it, though. Things they’d take to their graves so they never had to think about the deathly pale and unemotional woman sat at the man’s side. Jim didn’t know half of what she’d not been like.
When Spock had asked Shuu about it, the hacker had been quiet for a long, long time. Then she’d told him, “Not even Jim knows the extent of this stuff. And if you EVER tell another soul without her permission, I will make your life a living hell.”
After, documents had uploaded to his data pad concerning Mauisse’s mother’s poor health, her mother’s death when she was young, her father’s workaholic nature after her mother died that nearly destroyed the already strained relationship the father and daughter shared, how Admiral Pike had been a frequent guest when on leave and why the father and daughter had any relationship at all. He’d read it all once, twice, a third time and then deleted every single scrap of information. Then he went and sat at Jim’s side and told her to take a shower and rest in the same tone of voice he’d heard come from Admiral Pike twice when talking to Mauisse.
The only thing he seemed to have not been told by Shuu was the woman’s need for contact with those she cares about to belay a full breakdown or shutdown. He doubted Shuu knew if she hadn’t told him.
“Captain, if I may speak with you and Lieutenant Flowers in private?” he asks.
Everyone turns away abruptly from the scene. Whatever is to be said, no one needs to ease drop. There’s enough tension as is on the bridge, and it certainly wasn’t sexual.
“Of course, Mr. Spock.”
Jim stands, slow with a brief waver, and Mauisse twitches to reach out and steady him. Panic flashes in her eyes, something Jim misses but Spock sees fully well.
“Sulu, if you could take the helm.”
“Of course, sir.”
Sulu takes the seat, and the three leave. Spock orders the elevator to go to the residential floors.
The elevator ride is slow. Spock thinks it’s on purpose. But he isn’t sure with how antsy Shuu had been as of late. The kind of antsy someone worried was.
“Where are you leading us, Spock?” Jim asks.
“Somewhere private. Gossip is already enough of a problem aboard the ship. We need not fan the flames.”
“At this rate, they’ll think us running off to have sex in one of our quarters. You can’t stop gossip, Spock.” Jim says dryly, and Mauisse shoots him a look that makes the man blush. “Sorry.” After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”
Mauisse’s eyes widen, fear filling them, then she quickly looks away. “I’m fine.”
Jim’s brow furrows. “No you–”
Spock cuts him off, about to address the issue once they enter Jim’s quarters. “I am going to bring that up in a moment. Do not frighten off your sister, Jim.”
Mauisse closes her eyes, heat rising in her cheeks. It was one thing for her to say it flippantly, another to have someone acknowledge how close the two were. Especially someone as literal-minded as Spock.
The door to Jim’s quarters open and they shuffle in. Immediately as the door shuts, Mauisse reaches out, not giving a fuck that she snatches Jim’s hand into her own, lacing their fingers together. She refuses to step closer and he’s looking at her with shocked confusion.
“You are not okay, ‘Ees*.” He accuses. She doesn’t bother to deny it, instead saying, “Neither are you.”
“Before you two begin to derail this conversation, I would like to address why I asked we talk in private.”
Their gazes turn to him, and maybe Spock feels a little shiver run down his spine at the matching gleam of curiosity in their eyes. The two have spent far too much time together.
“Mauisse is currently feeling very displaced, high levels of anxiety and stress, and a lack of connectivity.” Spock begins, causing the woman to tense. “It appears to be linked directly to you, Jim, and your recent death and resurrection and the fact she has not been able to have proper time to address the matter or reconnect with you.”
Jim scoffs, just a little, though worry shines in his eyes now. “What do you mean? We’ve been talking like we usually do.”
“When was the last time Mauisse hugged you, Jim? Or started to bicker with you? Or punched your arm? Or asked you for assistance in some benign matter concerning engineering she could easily ask Scotty about? Which I might add she hasn’t been doing since we have been sent off-world, more concerned with standing behind you, finding some way to touch you or have you talk. She has not, in the past months, looked you in the eyes either.” Spock is surprised she hadn’t bristled and blown up at him, her tempter just a little more testy lately if Jim was somehow out of her sight or something concerning her emotions brought up. “While not qualified to make such deductions, I believe Mauisse is experiencing a form of PTSD much like you are. Hers, however, is not being addressed when it should be.”
“Spock, shut up.”
Mauisse is shaking, surprisingly well-composed considering how well he just slammed the nail on the head. Her free hand is flexing, she’s clearly struggling to breath right. And it has the desired effect he’d wanted.
“Hey,” Jim turns to her, fast, a brother’s care overcoming him in the moment, “look at me.”
Her whole body locks up, a shivering breath escaping her. The shine of tears glitter on her eyelashes, ready to spill over moment her eyes open.
“Mauisse?” Jim’s voice is soft, careful. He lifts his free hand, letting it carefully touch her cheek. There’s a pleading edge to it with his next word choice that forces Spock’s eyes away. “Please.”
“I–” her voice is rough, choked off by the heavy lump in her throat. “I ca-can’t.” Her voice shatters on the word, muffled sobbing escaping her, likely blocked by the back of her hand or Jim gathering her into a hug. “You died! You left me, Jim. I– I– I was s– so alone.”
Spock glances at the two, briefly, sees the way Mauisse is clutching at him as he hugs her, trying to get infinitely closer and still falling so short. Like she wishes she could climb in him so she can always know he’s safe and there and breathing. So much unlike her mother. So much unlike Admiral Pike.
Slowly, Spock backs out, letting the door close behind him. His last sight is Jim sitting on the bed, letting her wrap herself around him like a sloth, body heaving with sobs and screams, his hands rubbing her back and petting her hair.
“You did good, Spock,” Shuu says when he’s on the elevator.
“I would hope so.”
“Well, he’s gonna get her to sleep, if that helps any. I’ll be telling the others.”
tidalrace replied to your post “Okay, V, I think it’s time to admit to yourself that you did not...”
I've been called in for interviews for jobs I was wildly unqualified for. It just depends. In general, I've always been told to apply if you have some of their requisites. Go for it!
uruvielnumenesse replied to your post “Okay, V, I think it’s time to admit to yourself that you did not...”
Apply you might be surprised. Sometimes there's a shortage
Thanks, y’all! I’m applying! "You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take” or something like that. They also ask if I have 5 years experience or “any equivalent combination of education, training or experience that will result in successfully performing the essential job functions” and I think I do, so I answered yes!
“Uh, Coulson,” Fitz hurried into Coulson’s office without knocking, some sort of device clutched in his hand. “We’ve picked up a Bifrost arrival signal.”
“Thor coming back to the Avengers?” Coulson smiled with a certain glee. “Maybe he can knock some sense into Stark’s dense head. I can’t imagine the Accords going over very well with Asgard.”
“Um, no, sir. This is an arrival… here.”
Booted feet sounded in the corridor outside, and Coulson stood up, waving Fitz to one side. “Lady Sif again, perhaps…” his eyes widened as Sif indeed strode into the office, followed by a red-cloaked, blond giant. “Uh. Thor.”
“Son of Coul.” Thor nodded at him without the slightest expression of surprise, which made Coulson wonder just how long Thor had known he wasn’t dead. And just who had told him. Considering the serious expressions both Asgardians were wearing, he knew this wasn’t the time to ask that particular question.
“What can we do for you?” he asked instead.
“We left the Inhuman with you because you assured me that she would not be a threat, Son of Coul,” Sif said, and her expression was disappointed. “Yet, through her actions there are new Inhumans popping up all over Midgard, and Daisy herself is no longer with SHIELD, but acting as a lone vigilante.”
There wasn’t a lot Phil could say to that. He sighed, dropping his eyes for a moment. “Yes, but - she is not a threat to anyone but - but bad people.”
That gained him a raised eyebrow from Sif and a cynical snort from Thor. “This is why you have been chasing her around the country trying to catch up with her, is it, Son of Coul?” Thor boomed.
Fitz winced. “She - was upset when she left,” he put in, quietly. “Lincoln, her - friend, he died stopping Hive.”
“That was a truly noble act,” Sif said with a nod, “and we know well how the loss of a loved one can cause someone to become… distraught.”
Thor firmed his lips, fingering Mjölnir’s handle, but he didn’t say anything, as Sif looked at him sidelong.
“Distraught, yes. Daisy - she felt that SHIELD wasn’t the best place for Inhumans. She was doing amazing work here, building a team we called the Secret Warriors. Elena and Joey are the only two left now, you should meet them, they’re both wonderful people…”
Thor held up a hand to stop Coulson. Phil bit his lip, but fell silent.
“We do not doubt the integrity of the Inhumans working with SHIELD. Heimdall the Guardian has been keeping watch. Asgard has intervened more than once, in situations of which you know nothing.”
Phil opened his mouth, and then shut it again. “So you’re just here about Daisy,” he said finally.
“Her activities must be halted,” Sif said, not unkindly. “The All-Father has commanded it.”
“It’s not like we haven’t tried!” Fitz said defensively.
“Which is why we are here,” Thor looked at him with a nod. “SHIELD has done its utmost, but Daisy’s abilities are beyond what you are able to deal with, and the Avengers - well, the Avengers were never yours to call, but they are no longer available anyway.” A muscle ticced in his jaw. Fitz and Coulson looked at each other in silence.
“So you’re here because…?” Coulson said finally.
“Merely to advise you not to attempt to intervene,” Sif replied. “We will apprehend Daisy and remove her to Asgard. Removing her from Midgard will hopefully remove the cause of her despair, her rage; we can offer her a new purpose on Asgard, if she chooses not to return.”
That made Phil gulp. “Not to return?”
Sif’s expression softened. “You love her as a daughter, Son of Coul, we understand this. Is there any message that you would have us give to Daisy for you?”
“Just…” Phil looked at Fitz, then back at Sif. “Tell her that I love her. That we all love her, and that there will always be a place here for her.”
Fitz nodded, a lump in his throat, unable to speak. The Asgardians looked at them both in silence for a few moments before nodding and quietly taking their leave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thor and Sif fully intended to take Daisy by surprise. They returned briefly to Asgard and waited with Heimdall until the Guardian told them that she was sleeping.
“Let me handle this,” Sif told Thor as they quietly approached the motel on foot. “She knows me.”
“As you will.” Thor left Mjölnir on his belt. He’d long since learned that when Sif had a plan, it was usually a workable one.
Seeing Sif go flying past him less than three seconds after she opened the door was rather unexpected, though. Thor’s eyebrows rose. Plucking Mjölnir from his belt, he strode over to check on Sif.
“You are unhurt?” he checked. Sif scowled up at him, pulling herself painfully up off the crushed car she’d landed on.
“I am fine!”
“Be at ease,” Thor saw her now, a tiny figure, standing in the doorway, hands held out before her, dark hair tumbling around her face. Wearing only yoga pants and a tank top. Such a little thing, to cause so much trouble. A small smile quirked his mouth. “I will handle her.”
“Ha,” Daisy said scornfully, “You couldn’t handle me if I came with a user manual!”
Thor stared at her incredulously for a moment before beginning to laugh heartily. Letting Mjölnir drop to the ground with a resounding clang - it sank a couple of inches into the parking lot’s asphalt - he spread his hands unthreateningly. “Very well, my lady. We shall not seek to ‘handle’ you. We are here only to extend an invitation.”
She eyed him warily. “An invitation. Last time Sif came looking for me, she wanted to put me down.”
“Last time she found you, you were not even close to being in control of your powers, and still she trusted that you would not harm any innocent, of your own free will. Now that you do have control, is that still the case, my lady, that the innocent remain safe from you?”
“Yes,” Daisy said, after staring at him thoughtfully for a moment.
“Still, it is decreed that you may not continue on your current path.” Thor’s tone was firm, but not unkind. “One way or another, this ends tonight.”
Daisy’s jaw clenched. “I’m not done.”
“Yes,” he said gently. “You are.”
She stared at him for a long moment before dropping her hands. Tears began to well in her dark eyes, and Thor approached her slowly, marvelling again at how small she was for one so powerful.
“Come, my lady,” he said gently. “Asgard awaits, and a new path, should you choose it.”
She was so tired, so tired of running, of fighting, of having to hold herself apart from everyone in case she hurt them. On Asgard, she would be among equals, among those she probably couldn’t seriously hurt even if she wanted to. Thor’s huge hands closed gently on her shoulders, and Daisy couldn’t help herself; desperate to feel human contact again after so long, she stepped forward, put her arms around him and leaned her forehead on his armoured chest.
Startled, Thor still recognised her need. His massive arms folded gently around her, wrapping her in a warm, close embrace. “It will be well, my lady,” he rumbled softly. “All will be well.”
She looked up at him with tear-bright eyes, and he was struck suddenly by how very beautiful she was. His heart lurched in his chest.
“Be not distressed,” Thor told her. “We are not here to harm you, but to offer our hands in friendship, as allies. The Son of Coul asked me to give you a message; that he loves you still, and that there remains a place for you with SHIELD, if you wish to return to them.”
Daisy shook her head. “I can’t. Everyone there - they’ve all risked their lives, and suffered for my sake, again and again. Too many people have died because of me. I won’t put them at risk any more.”
“As you will. Would you come with us to Asgard, then? You would be our honoured guest there. My personal guest,” something impelled Thor to add.
Daisy gave him a small smile. “I - I am honoured to accept that invitation, Prince Thor.”
“Just Thor. Please.” Dropping his arms from around her with some reluctance, Thor reached out a hand, calling Mjölnir to him. “We shall be friends, you and I.”
“I’d like that.” Daisy’s smile grew a little wider, as her eyes fell on his arms, muscles bunching thickly as he hung the hammer from his belt. She couldn’t quite resist reaching out, poking lightly at his bicep. It felt exactly like human flesh, albeit firmer and more muscled than any other she’d ever touched.
Thor startled, looking back down at her questioningly. “Just checking. For a friend of mine,” she gave him a mischievous little grin, remembering May’s long-ago comment on Thor’s arms.
“Any time you wish,” a little bemused, still Thor shrugged and smiled down at her.
“If you two have quite finished flirting?” Sif interrupted dryly. She was sitting not too far away, on the hood of the dented car.
Thor actually coloured slightly over his cheekbones, which caused Daisy to blush too. “I’ll just… grab my stuff,” she gestured at the open door behind her.
“What could you possibly need?” Sif asked blankly. “Clothes will be provided for you, and your primitive Midgardian technology will be of no use on Asgard.”
That actually froze Daisy in her tracks. “Still, I don’t necessarily want anyone else to get their hands on my stuff,” she said. “I’ll be just a moment.”
“Do not look at me like that,” Thor said when Sif came to stand beside him as they waited.
“What, you think I do not see that you already look at her with your heart in your eyes, you great fool?” Sif nudged him affectionately in the ribs. “Perhaps you should be glad that your lady mother is no longer with us. She would have the two of you handfasted before you even had time to blink.”
The door opened then, and Daisy came out, dressed in jeans and jacket, sturdy boots on her feet, a knapsack over her shoulder. “So how do we do this?” she asked a little uncertainly.
Thor held out a hand to her. Sif snorted, not at all under her breath, and he shot her a sideways glare, but Daisy ignored Sif and put her hand into his, allowing him to lead her to the centre of the parking lot, away from other vehicles. Sif came with them, moving to stand on Daisy’s other side, not quite touching her.
“So is there some sort of magic word like open sesame or ohhh,” Daisy gasped with astonishment as the Bifrost sparkled to life all around them, all the colours she could name and some she couldn’t, roaring with a silent cold fire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“They’re gone, sir,” Fitz reported quietly. Coulson turned to look at him, nodded silently.
“Do you think she’ll be all right, Fitz?” he felt suddenly compelled to ask.
“I think she has the happy knack of making friends everywhere she goes,” Fitz said after a moment. “Everyone loves Daisy. You wait, sir. Next time we see her, she’ll probably be queen of Asgard.”
The remark had the desired effect of making Coulson smile, and Fitz walked away feeling a little better himself.
Of course, six months later when Sif turned up to invite them all to a royal wedding, Coulson asked Fitz if he was quite sure he hadn’t developed precognition.
When the Day Met the Night (All Was Golden In the Sky)
Based on [ THIS ] prompt. Can read up on where this crazy came from starting [ HERE ] and [ HERE ].
Lucy sighed, chin in her hand as she sat at the little table in the hotel room she was given. Usagi was in the one over, their rooms connected by a shared bathroom. She was dressed in flattering sunrise cotton candy orange (as Usagi tended to so eloquently call it), with more subdued makeup on tonight. Just her lips and mascara with a bit of eyeliner to make her eyes pop (easy to do if she let the silver in her eyes glow instead of making it a dull gray).
But Usagi and her were supposed to be meeting with the President and Vice-President on forming an Alliance, as well as attend a dinner afterwards (whether it worked out or not, because it's the polite thing to do). So she had to look as Terranly normal as possible, which meant disguising her eyes. Her skin couldn't be helped. Usagi herself had decided to tone down the silver in her eyes, but refused to color her hair, her hair being a part of her heritage she would forever be proud of.
There's a knock from the door, and Lucy stands. It should be the escort the First Lady had promised to send that morning. Usagi had her fiancé, Mamoru, to take her, but Lucy was still missing a person on her arm after Konzen's death. As a princess, even if she was the second-in-line and more than content to be her sister's adviser, it was still protocol to not go to functions alone until her sister had an heir, in case Usagi ever did, somehow, be killed so it appeared Lucy was ready for the throne.
"Who is it?" She calls through, wondering if they'd use the code word she'd given the First Lady.
"Uh," the man thought for a moment, sounding awkward and confused, "the 'Man in the Moon'?"
It was him.
Lucy opened the door, smiling at the man and surprised to see she had to look up even further. She was short, yes, but then again some people were just tall. Extremely tall.
Her eyes are wide. "Are you seven feet tall?" She blurts before thinking properly, and a blush coats her cheeks right after. She laughs breathlessly, and looks away from the equally red man.
"Uhm, no, but I am 6'3."
Selene above, Lucy thinks.
"I was sent to help you, uhm, adjust?"
"Adjust?" Lucy repeats, confused.
"Yeah. Uh," he rubs the back of his neck, "the guy they send to help you de-stress."
"De-stre–" Lucy chokes on air. "Do you mean preform intercourse?" His face blazed red, as did hers silver. "I am not a Venetian or Martian! We don't– Selene above! Why did she think I wanted a paramour?"
"Your code was Man in the Moon…" the man mumbles, and Lucy squeals in shock.
"It is a common thought that there is a rabbit or man inside the Moon!" She cries, turning from him. "You can go. I'll get someone else to be my escort."
"What? But, ma'am, I'm supposed–"
"You will not be laying down with me. Lunarians do not engage in affairs because we have no need to." She says simply. "I wanted someone to talk to, someone who would 'protect' me." Lucy doesn't use her fingers, but the quotes can be heard around the words. It's a bit harsh, even if it's said in a gentle, kind voice.
"I don't have to fondue with you." He's says harshly, taking a step into the room. "She thought that's what you wanted and since you're supposed to like blondes–"
"How do you know that?!" She turned quickly, terror in her eyes. "No one knows!"
"Princess Phoibe, how do you think I was asked to come here?" He questioned. "You used a very, uh, suggestive term and your sister asked a blonde male escort you. Even a little kid could deduce…"
"Stop it." Lucy glared at him. "What's your name?"
"It's Steve." He introduced. "I'm Captain Steve Rogers."
Lucy rolls her eyes. "Captain America is a call girl? Great sun, this just keeps getting better." She sighs, looking at him tiredly, "I do not require sexual escorting, Captain Rogers. Just an escort for the evening. It's Lunarian custom that we princesses have a male or female at our arm, whether the heir or not, to show we're ready to take the throne at all times. It's like acting."
"Even on the Moon?" Steve asked curiously, and she shook her head.
"I do not on the Moon. The populace is aware of my condition, to put it lightly. My sister and I do not take escorts at that time."
"Then I'll take you to the party and dinner and drop you off here at the end of the night."
"Thank you, Captain Rogers." She smiled lightly. "And you won't have to stay at my side all night, just drop me off and mingle elsewhere. I won't force you to stay by my side."
"If you're always this nice as when you first introduced yourself, I might stay," he joked. Her smile warmed a fraction.
"Of course! What else would I be?" She picks up her purse, and nods to the door. "Ready to go?"
There's a knock before he can reply. It's from the adjacent bathroom, so it must be Usagi.
"Lulu! Has he arrived yet?" Usagi calls, and the bathroom door opens. She comes twirling in, dressed in a v-neck, flush pink evening gown. "I heard he's really handsome! Not as good looking as Endy, granted, but just as- oh!" Usagi blushes brightly when she sees him. "Whoops."
Lucy stood there, head in her hands. "Oh, Usa. You heard us talking."
"No I didn't!" Usagi huffs. "I heard a knock at the door and muffled talk, I didn't know much else. You do ta–"
"Serenity!" Lucy cut her sister off, head lifted and an ire that turned her gray-green eyes into molten silver, using her sister's first name. The elder princess yelped, and turned to Steve.
"Very nice to meet you, Captain America! I hope you enjoy the festivities tonight!"
Then she runs back through to her room, leaving Lucy to slump against the wall. "I love her, so much, but honestly. She will talk you crazy."
"Most siblings seem to, Princess Phoibe." He laughs gently.
Technically a Modern Call Captain (?) AU. Usagi’s name and title is Crown Princess Serenity Usagi Selena Lunaria of the Lunar Queendom and Silver Alliance and Lucy’s is Princess Phoibe Lucinda Serena Lunaria of the Lunar Queendom and Lady of the Stars.
Ask me all you’d like on this crazy. You can ask @uruvielnumenesse too because she convinced me to post it.
Also, what the ladies had on, right here: [ Lucy ] and [ Usagi ]
