#(no matter how you feel about ross he turned out to be a great father to emma)
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quinnmorgendorffer · 2 years ago
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my most unpopular opinion of all time is that i think it makes sense that rachel got off the plane in the series finale
all shipping things or not aside, rachel didn’t speak french. i’ve seen 3 seasons now of people complaining about just that in emily in paris but y’all really think rachel should’ve done the same thing/would’ve done better???
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prof-ramses · 8 months ago
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Horror Lingers in Hope
So, this is my first proper SM ficlet, and it's Roy angst because of course it is. I wrote this about a month ago, but refined it since and am posting to get extra hype going for the impending release of HS!
TW: Nothing explicit, but there is reference to past CSA, as should be expected from a Roy angst fic.
Roy was honestly surprised when his parents let him invite not only Susie, but Ross and Robert over. He was obviously glad, it just seemed a bit sudden. "Man, this place rocks, Roy!" Robert said as he looked around the lavish living room. "Heh, yeah, it does." was all Roy could muster, it was nice to not worry about anything for a bit, just enjoying a day with the people who mattered. "Now try coming here for dates all the time." Susie chirped, "With this fine specimen." She playfully tugged at Roy's cheek and got a little chuckle out of him. “So, being the great host I am,” Roy half-joked, “I wanted to ask; What do you guys want to do?” “Wait, you said you were writing a song, right? Can we hear it?” Again, Ross’s question took Roy a little off guard, it’s not that he didn’t like the attention, It was just something he wasn’t used to, at least not in this way. “Only, and I mean only, if  you promise not to make fun of how cheesy it is.” Which it was, a ballad he was working on for Susie, he’d never admit it, but it started as a birthday present he didn’t finish in time. Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Susie butted in, “AND if you promise not to get jealous of his singing voice.” “Oh, yeah” Ross joined in, “I don’t think I’ve heard you sing, man.“ “Then you’re missing out. Trust me.” “Why are you saying that like I’M the talented one?” “Roy, you’ve heard me sing, you know which one of us has that kind of talent!” “I know, I know, you’re just a lot of fun to mess with.” And without missing a beat, Susie responded to her boyfriend the exact way he expected from her and loved her for, “Yep, we’re really in sync like that.”
That was when Roy's mother poked around the corner "Does anyone want anything? I've been meaning to try some new smoothie recipes." "Nope, but thanks for the offer, Mrs. L." Ross responded for the group, he really had a way of reading the room.
Just then there was a knock at the front door *knock--knock* Roy's hearing suddenly clouded as he heard his father in the next room say "Ah, on time for once." Suddenly everything seemed darker, everyone turned to him. Their mouths didn't seem to move, yet he could hear them, in unison "Go on Reynold, answer it." He suddenly found himself right in front of that door, the knock came again, faster *knock-knock* Roy felt something in his hand, nevermind the fact that it hadn't moved. The door opened and there he was. "Hey little man. Long time no see."
Suddenly Susie entered from Roy's peripheral vision approaching that monster, a calm, accepting smile on her face, yet her eyes full of tears, pleading through acceptance. "Thanks for this little number, Roy. Still not quite on par with those 2 treats you got me a few years back." "No-NO, NO! You're dead, you died that Halloween! You're gone! GONE!" Even with the door open, that knocking persisted *knockknock-knockknock "Thanks again, kiddo." He said as he wrapped his arm around Susie's. Her voice sounded so peaceful as she said; “Don’t worry, Roy. This is how it was always going to be.”. "You've done wonders for you're dear uncle." His voice rang out as the knocking turned into a near constant drone of beating against Roy’s mind. He tried to reach out, to pull Susie away, to do ANYTHING. But he couldn’t, he ran faster and faster, but with every step he felt like something was pulling him down.
Roy damn near fell out of his bed when he lurched forward as he awoke in a frigid sweat. The quiet of the night and the air around him feeling like a gentle hand on his shoulder telling him to leave that horror behind. Telling him to leave it behind in the exact way he couldn't leave it behind. Not alone. But he already told Ross and Robert everything, they'd already helped as much as they could. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he could tell dad, not yet. Mom, maybe, at least she wouldn't feel betrayed be her own blood. And Susie… how would he even start telling her? It didn’t matter, he had to tell them... Soon, sometime soon....
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cryptid-killjoy · 1 year ago
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"Oh, okay. Cool. So I was reading that right. You'd still be great too. Just not me. I think Dad drilled it too much in my head to wear a hat fit for a proper fool. His story didn't turn out where the fool had very much fun at all. It was the bad kind of fool not the fun kind. I don't think I can take the risk. I think a hat like that would make me nervous."
The hunch in him just couldn't do it after what happened to his father and went ahead and explained even when no one asked him to elaborate which he usually took as people not being interested in him or what he's talking about and just clams up and goes into his hidey hole of talking to the gargoyles instead. See? He's working on doing better already.
"Everyone was making fun of him, tied him down, captured him, made him wear a hat like that, threw lots of food and stuff at it, thought it was for fun, but it wasn't. It wasn't at all. Crowned him the King of Fools. Frollo punished him for going out. It was a whole thing. But Frollo wasn't wrong about people. The people actually started it, not Frollo. Dad didn't tell it to me because he hated people though. He just wanted to protect me. I can see that now. I was just a kid then. Too hard for me at the time to really understand our curse. He had to protect me somehow. Sometimes the truth is ugly. That's all. People can be too. But that's why I love Clopin and Piper. They turned jesters into something that didn't scare me quite so much. They were always funny around me when they did it, a little scary still, but nice to me. Always nice."
How peculiar that a boy like Bastien would be obsessed with the reaper side of Clopin like that's the fun side and be more anxious around his jester than Death itself. It's funny how experience shapes a person.
"And heck yes. And hello. You ARE a good Mamma Bear." He gave her a little nudge as if she always was one. "I think my Bob Ross hair was epic." He had to brag a little from prior years together. "I'm going to wear my bear coat for my regular winter coat again." He informed. "It is actually quite warm. I will be keeping it forever." In case she didn't know it was going to used as regular wear not just a costume.
"Cool, babe." He got his official yes.
Better yet. Kisses. All over. He started giggling because he wasn't ready for the kissy attack and thought it was funny.
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"I love you Maddy Bellerose."
Then he'd nuzzle up for a jet lagged sleep off only getting up to deal in Frankie fussiness or painful transformation issues. He contemplated greatly whether or not he should go out in the day in this unfamiliar country. In Nola or even the states in general it felt different. Feral and Delta changed everything. Even Paris felt like theirs. New Zealand felt like they had ties they could reach out to if anything should go wrong. He hadn't really been there, but he felt like he might feel the same in Peru. But, they had no network here. It wasn't like the world hadn't heard of Piper or Delta both considering how they were changing the international maps in global ways geographically, economically, all sorts of variations were affected. But, it wasn't lost on Bastien how two very lone individuals like them in vastly different place could easily lose their footing if they weren't careful. Anything could happen. After a good long think he decided it was best to take no chances and wait for evening. Start as early as possible to get much early evening as possible when people were still active. Leave the moment he changed no matter how exhausted he felt.
That was the problem with night. It meant nightlife only. It was really no wonder Bastien was into such shady shit all the time. It gave his life only so many options with his limited means once upon a time, especially when he never went out in the day at all. He'd express that at some point when he shifted waking to feed Frankie while in hunch form.
"I know we've talked a lot about going out like this. I don't know this country. I don't know their customs or religions, beliefs. I think I should wait till night." He felt firm in that. "It could be fine but I needed to feel it out first."
So, as firm as he felt, they'd wait it out till the next round. It gave them a chance to rest up anyhow. Rest up. Read up. Eat up. They'd get to order from the menus downstairs. Then it'd finally be the moment they could go exploring this place. She would be able to come along as promised. The scouting of places he mentioned before was the boring part, but he wanted to get the lay of the land. His walking man feet just needed to get a feel for where he was.
This was where they'd groove around like tourists and it would start out like typical vacation in it's way. They'd look like a lovely couple with their stroller stopping at shops, eyeing the city, talking to locals, trying street food as snackage, attempting to understand the culture. Bastien quickly found the trail to the underbelly by following someone he noticed wearing holey shoes and it didn't look like it was for fashion sake. Before too long he'd wandered to a ghetto area full of dilapidated structures that looked water soaked along the bottom edges people seemed to be using as homes. As sad as it might have been Bastien smiled.
"This is it. This is where we'll come. I knew my feet would find it. But tonight-"
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Then he waggled his brow and this was not a typical Bastien expression so it only proved how excited he was for it. It felt like he was waiting forever for it. Ever since he saw it online he'd been wanting to it. It was the actual reason he wanted to give his money away to someone prisoner in the Philippines. He thought to himself kill two birds with one stone. Do two really great things all at once.
"Back that way." He pointed in the other direction. "We have a late night dinner date with the fireflies. Hail us a cab." He said taking bigger steps back to stay city side. He didn't want to get too deep away from it when they had to get where they wanted to be. He'd been dying to do this.
“I like it too,” Maddy said with a smile. She enjoyed matching with him - had seen the post that he had made trying on makeup and grew her idea from there, but it wasn’t as if she had committed to it yet. There was always time for a switch up in ideas. “Perhaps - but they’re both so much better at it than I could ever be.” She smiled slightly, thinking about her costume from last year. “I was a great Mama Bear though, wasn’t I?”
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But the fact that she was being trusted by him to hold his hammer? And only hold because she wasn’t sure that she had all the strength that it needed to actually be wielded. That was incredible. She definitely had to pepper his face with kisses after that.
“Yes,” She smiled with a nod, giving him the direct answer that he had been looking for. “Absolutely yes, you’re going to be the cutest Pebbles,” She giggled. Genderbent too, that made things more fun. She was absolutely going to find some bones in Feral to put into his hair. She would need one too for her costume, since she was pretty sure that Bam Bam wore one in his clothing. “I hope that the Laveaus don’t bring all their dogs,” She said, imagining now that they would have to do a lot of running away if that was the case, to escape from the bone-hungry canines.
They finished their bath, actually getting cleaner rather than dirty this time, and she hung her lingerie out to dry since it had gotten all wet, not that she minded. That was their Halloween plans set. Now they could enjoy the Phillipines the way that Bastien wanted. Go to the prison, donate a fortune, try some odd foods, and buy the weirdest stuff that they could possibly find as souvenirs for their equally weird friends.
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mandowh0re · 4 years ago
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The One Where Everybody Finds Out
Summary: The team finds out about you and Loki.
A/N: So I literally took the entire episode of The One Where Everybody Finds Out from Friends and rewrote it for the Avengers. This may have been done before with either Loki or another character, and I've definitely seen it done with other Friends episodes. This is super long because I literally used every line of dialogue in every scene (except for Ross attempting to win the apartment) and then added or changed them enough to fit the characters. Some of this may be OOC but it was the best I could do with the situation they're all in. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Implied smut
Word Count: 6274
Tony as Ross, Natasha as Rachel and Phoebe, Wanda as Rachel and Phoebe, Peter as Phoebe, Loki as Chandler, reader as Monica, and Thor as Joey.
Happy Reading!
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“Oh, hey you guys, look! They’re installing the new training grounds outside!”
There’s collective sounds of acknowledgement from the team as they all get up from their spots, walking over to where Wanda stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows. You can feel Loki standing a bit too close to your back, but luckily everyone is too distracted to notice.
“I’d say from the looks of it, Tony went all out.” Natasha states, looking at all the new fancy equipment that was being unloaded and installed.
“Ironically, it was actually Steve who went all out. I just paid for it.”
“Awh, I’ll miss sweating my tits off in that tiny gym.” Natasha says. You snicker.
“That’s repulsive.” Loki rolls his eyes and returns to his place on the couch.
Tony glares at Nat, “Hey, it’s not my fault that the AC is always broken.”
“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Bucky asks.
“Not an HVAC mechanic. There’s a big difference, tough guy.”
“I am excited for this new space! I will be able to call upon the lightning in training!” Thor booms.
“Yes, and kill everyone on the field.” Loki replies nonchalantly, never looking up from his book.
Thor rolls his eyes and everyone returns to their former spots. You sit back in your spot next to Loki, sitting criss cross on the couch and discreetly touching your knee to high thigh.
It’s the small touches you sneak when you think nobody is looking, that make your heart skip just a beat faster.
***
“Oh my gods, I love this setup! It's got something for everyone!” Tony is absolutely giddy with excitement, walking around the newly installed equipment that had been set up outside, “Isn’t it perfect? I never realized how little we were working with before!”
“Well that is because we really only ever trained by fighting hand to hand.” Natasha replies, inspecting part of the obstacle course.
Tony nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He watches as Peter easily climbs a wall that’s part of the course Nat is looking at.
“It’s amazing!” Wanda chirps, “Steve really outdid himself this time.”
“Speaking of Steve, he was supposed to meet us out here like ten minutes ago. I’m gonna go find him.” Tony says, pulling his phone out to try and get a hold of his boyfriend.
As the billionaire disappears into the compound, Nat walks up to Wanda.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to sweat my tits off out here.” She says, the comment matching the one she made a few days ago.
Wanda lets out a quiet cackle, watching as Nat walks towards some machinery across the yard that caught her eye.
Wanda walks towards the teenager and looks around, excited to have so much more to practice and train her magic with. While Loki was more than glad to train with her using his own magic, she always had to hold back with almost everyone else.
She watches as Peter jumps and climbs his way through the course, looking like he’s having the time of his life, when she sees a separate movement out of the corner of her eye. She looks up to see you and Loki standing in a window, facing each other and talking.
“Oh look! There’s Y/N and Loki. Hey!” She waves up at them, but they don’t see her.
Peter’s attention is now caught and he stops in his tracks, looking up at the same window.
“Hey!” Peter calls, waving his own hands.
Suddenly, you and Loki are stripping each other of clothes, and Peter makes a squaking sound, covering his eyes.
“Ah! Oh!” Wanda shouts, her eyes blowing wide as she sees the events unfold. She uses her magic to pull Peter back to her so she can shield his innocent eyes, “Ahh!”
“What?” Nat asks, jogging back up to the pair.
Wanda points to the window that harbored the offending scene, with the hand that isn’t currently shielding Peter’s eyes.
“Y/N and Loki! Y/N and Loki!”
Nat looks up to see what the other two are flipping out about, only to see Loki shove you up against the window, completely bare.
“Oh my god!” Nat’s voice goes up an octave.
“Oh!”
“Oh my god!”
“Y/N and Loki!” Wanda screams.
“Oh my god!”
“My eyes! My eyes!” Peter screams. Wanda turns them both away from the building.
“Peter! Wanda!” Nat steps in front of them, hands out to try and calm them.
“Oh!” Wanda yells again, screwing here eyes shut.
“Okay! It’s okay! It’s okay!” Nat tries to placate them.
Peter removes Wanda’s hand from his face, “No! They’re doing it!” He yells, turning to point at you and Loki before Nat quickly grabs his arm and turns him back to her.
“I know! I know! I know!”
“You know?” Peter yells back.
“You know?” Wanda echoes him.
“Yes! I know, and Thor knows, but Tony doesn’t know so you have to stop screaming!”
Out of nowhere, Tony walks up to the small group, “Hey, what’s going on?”
The three of them scream in surprise, Peter throwing his hands in the air and jumping, screaming the loudest.
“Hi! Hi!”
Concern etches itself on Tony’s face, “What? What?” He steps towards his kid, arms reaching out and eyes scanning for any injuries.
“Hi! Nothing!” Peter yells, jumping around Tony to make him look away from the compound. He really didn’t need to see his daughter being fucked against a window by the one person on the team he trusts least, “Oh, gods, we’re just so excited about all the new equipment!” Peter claps his hands.
Tony smiles, now realizing it’s all just Peter having a hyperactive episode, “Yeah, actually it looks really good-” He says as he turns back to look at everything, but is cut off when Wanda yells and copies Peter’s movements to pull Tony’s gaze back away from the building.
“It looks amazing!” She screams, clapping and jumping up and down next to Peter.
Nat steps around Tony too so he doesn’t have a reason to turn back around.
“Get in here! Come on!” Peter yells, motioning for his father figure to join their happy dance.
Tony smiles before letting out a happy squeal and jumping into the little group dance, all of them jumping and screaming, aside from Natasha who was smirking and biting her lip to keep from laughing.
***
“You mean whenever Y/N and Loki were like, you know, doing laundry. Or going grocery shopping, or- Oh!” Wanda gasps, “All that time Y/N spent on the phone with Margo back in her hometown?”
They sit on Wanda’s bed, coffee in hand. Peter was leaned against her headboard playing Among Us on his phone, sound blocking headphones in. He was traumatized from what he saw earlier in the day, and he didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone, so the girls let him hang with them while they gossiped.
Nat nods, “Uh huh. Doing it, doing it, phone doing it.”
Wanda gasps again, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I mean I think it’s great!” There’s a pause, “For him. She might be able to do better.”
There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly to reveal Thor. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.
“Hello, what are you all up to?”
“Thor! Come here!” Nat says, jumping up and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him.
Thor moves to sit on the desk chair, which looks like a doll chair compared to him, “What?”
“Wanda and Peter just found out about Loki and Y/N.”
Thor’s brows furrow and his eyes get wide, “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?” His eyes narrow at the ex-assassin.
Nat rolls her eyes, “No, no Thor. They know. We were outside checking out the new training grounds and we saw them doing it through the window. Actually we saw them doing it up against the window.”
Wanda joins in, “Okay, so now they know you know,” She points to Thor, “And they don’t know that Nat knows?”
The god looks like he’s thinking hard for a moment before he speaks, “... Yes. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know, that we could just tell them we know!” He says excitedly, “Then all the lying and secrets will finally be over!”
Nat nods, and Wanda gets a smirk on her face.
“Or, we could not tell them we know, and have a little fun of our own!” The witch giggles.
“Wait, well what do you mean?” Nat asks, turning back to face Wanda.
“Well every time that they say they’re like, doing laundry, we’ll just give them a bunch of laundry to do!”
Nat’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, “Ohh,” She claps silently, “I would enjoy that.”
Thor looks horrified, “Oh no no no. No wait wait. You know what would be even more fun? Telling them.”
Nat looks at him, but she’s already hyped up, “Nah, I wanna do Wanda’s thing.”
“I can’t take anymore-”
“Oh you don’t have to do anything. Just don’t tell them that we know!” Wanda snaps.
“No! I can’t take any more secrets!” Thor whines, running a hand down his face, “I’ve got your secrets, I’ve got their secrets, I’ve got secrets of my own, you know.”
“You don’t have any secrets.” Nat narrows her eyes.
“Oh yeah? You don’t know about Squish, my stuffed octopus.” Thor throes back before his eyes go wide.
It’s silent between all of them for a few seconds before Wanda clears her throat, “So, um,” She veers the conversation back to the situation at hand, turning back to Nat, “How are we gonna mess with them?”
Thor groans and leans back in the chair.
“Well, you could use your position, you know, as the best friend. And then I would use, you know, the strongest tool at my disposal. My sexuality.”
There’s another knock at the door.
“Come in!” Wanda calls.
The door opens to reveal Loki. Peter blushes furiously when he looks up to see the other god, and looks back to down, gluing his eyes on his phone.
“Hello, children.”
Everyone in the room replies with hellos.
“Y/N cannot find her journal. Have any of you heathens seen it?”
There’s a string of denials, nobody having seen the black leather journal you tend to carry around.
Nat turns to Wanda and winks, noticing Peter is now looking at her, and stands up to head towards Loki.
“Uh, hello?” Loki says, watching Nat approach him.
“Hey,” She says, finally stepping in front of him, “Oh wow, that jacket looks great on you.”
Loki quirks a brow and glances down at his clothing, then back to Nat, “Um, thanks?”
“Yeah, the material looks so soft,” She says as she strokes his arm, “Oh hello muscles,” She purrs, squeezing his bicep, “Have you been working out?”
Loki looks incredibly puzzled, “Yes, but need I remind you I am also a god.”
Suddenly Nat is giggling. Since when-
“Are you ill?”
She finishes giggling and looks in his eyes, “Well, if you really want to know,” She looks down at her hands, “Um- Oh I can’t tell you this.”
Loki shifts his weight onto the other foot, glancing at the other three behind her, then focusing back on her.
“While I do not enjoy discussing emotions, I can tolerate you more than most humans. If you would like to discuss something on your mind, I would not object.”
“Well actually, you’re the one person I can’t tell this to, and the one person I want to the most.”
“What the Norns is going on?” He asks, growing increasingly disturbed by this interaction.
“I think it’s just, you know, that I haven’t been with someone in so long and, you know how sometimes you’re looking for something and you just don’t even see that it’s right there in front of you dressed in a black suit…”
Loki glances down at himself again and his brows fly up for a split second as he looks back up to Nat.
“Oh no, have I said too much?” She coos, placing a hand on her chest, “Well, it’s just something to think about. I know I will.” She giggles again and walks over to where she set her mug down, bending at the waist and making an ‘oop’ sound, picking it up and then walks out of the room and past Loki, shooting him a wink.
Loki raises a brow at Thor, who has his face in his hands. Wanda is biting her lip to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter, and Peter’s cheeks are dusted pink with his eyes wide in shock.
***
“You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?” You ask, looking down at Loki. He’s sprawled on his bed with his arm around you, tracing his fingers along your spine.
“I am not cute. I am a god. Handsome or pretty will do.”
You giggle in response, “Okay now you’re even cuter.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him.
“You know, that seems to be a popular opinion today, I must say.”
“What?”
“Well, the weirdest thing happened earlier today. I think… I believe Natasha was coming onto me.”
You chuckle, “What are you talking about?”
“I’m telling you, I think Natasha thinks I’m alluring.”
You look up at the wall and quirk a brow, then look back at him, “It’s not possible.”
“Ow?” Loki says, lifting his hands in a motion akin to ‘what the hel’.
You chuckle, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I mean Nat just thinks of you in a charming, sexless kind of way.”
“Oh well you know I… I can’t hear that enough.”
“I’m sorry, I just think you misunderstood her.”
Loki sits up, “No, I did not misunderstand. Humans are simple creatures-”
You narrow your eyes.
“Except for you, my darling,” He tries to placate, “But she was all over me. She touched my bicep for crying out loud.”
You grab his arm, and smirk, “This bicep?”
“Well it’s not flexed right now.”
You snort and fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.
***
You walk out of the elevator into the common room, headed to the kitchenette for some water.
“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing right now? You wanna come see a movie with us?” Nat asks, flipping through her magazine.
You stutter in your movements, hoping nobody noticed, and continue getting your water, “Uh, you know what, I was actually gonna do some laundry.”
You were out on a jog when Loki had texted you a long paragraph about what he wanted to do to you when you got back. Needless to say, you cut your jog short, turned around, and came straight back. When you turned back around to face your friends, you glanced at Loki, who was sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand. The fucker had the audacity to smirk.
Nat and Wanda look at each other, sharing a knowing look.
“Loki, you wanna do it with me?”
He closes his book and sets it down next to him, standing off of the couch, “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”
Nat smirks and stands, “Okay great! Hold on a sec.” She says before running out of the room. She returns a few minutes later with a large hamper full of laundry, “Ugh, here you go,” She sets it down behind the couch, “You don’t mind do you? That would really help me out a lot. Thanks!”
“Uh…” You look at her, not really sure how to respond.
“Oh! I have some too!” Wanda says.
You finally come out of your stupor, “Wait! Why am I doing everyone’s laundry? Do your own!”
Wanda makes a pouty face, “Because you love us and we asked nicely?”
You look at her incredulously before rolling your eyes, “Fine.”
Nat looks at her watch, “Oh! Alright, honey, we’d better go if we wanna catch that movie.”
They grab their jackets and bags, saying goodbye as they leave.
“Bye, Loki! I miss you already.” Nat says as she passes him, pinching his butt before entering the elevator with Wanda.
Once the doors slide shut, Loki looks at you, “Okay, did you see that?” He says hysterically, “With the inappropriate and the pinching?”
You nod, “Actually I did.”
“Okay so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?”
You blink a few times, pieces of the situation coming together. Suddenly, your heart drops to your stomach.
“Oh my gods!” You look at the elevator and step around the counter towards the common room where Loki stood, “Oh my gods, she knows about us!”
“You are serious??”
“Natasha knows and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You throw your hands in the air, water bottle still clutched, “That’s the only explanation for it!”
Loki leans his head forward and raises his brows, “Okay but what about my pinchable butt and my bulging biceps?” He throws out an arm and runs his opposite hand over the lean limb before recognition settles over his face, “She knows!”
***
The door to Thor’s room flies open, startling the god, and both you and Loki enter.
“Thor.” Loki snaps, walking up to him, you hot on his tail. It looks like he had been in the middle of a nap.
“Yeah?” He says, throwing Squish behind a pillow.
You roll your eyes and Loki runs a hand down his face.
“Natasha knows about us.” Loki says, motioning between you and him.
Thor looks at you before furrowing his brows, “Well I didn’t tell them!”
“Them?” You hiss, “Who’s them?”
Thor looks guilty as he looks between the two of you, “Uhh, Natasha… And Thor.”
“Thor…” You warn.
“... And Wanda and Peter.”
You and Loki look at each other in annoyment.
Thor stands from his bed, “I would have told you, but they made me promise not to tell!”
“Odin’s beard!” Loki bites.
“I’m sorry!” Thor apologizes, and he does look sorry, “But hey! It’s over now, right? Cause you can tell them you know they know, and I can go back to knowing absolutely nothing!”
An idea pops into your mind, “Unless-”
“No, not ‘unless’! Look, this must end now!”
You ignore Thor’s small outburst, “Oh man, they think they are so slick messing with us! But see they don’t know that we know that they know. So…”
Thor looks confused as all hell by now, but realization dawns on Loki, “Ah, yes. The pranksters become the victims!”
Thor rolls his eyes, making an irritated noise, and flops back onto his bed.
***
Natasha, Wanda, and Peter are all hanging out in the common room playing Mario Kart when Natasha’s phone rings.
She pauses the game, putting the controller down and grabbing her phone, noticing the caller ID.
“It’s Loki!” She yelps, and suddenly she has both Peter’s and Wanda’s undivided attention.
They had filled Peter in on their plan, and he was more than happy to help prank you and Loki after what he had been inadvertently forced to see.
“Answer it!” Peter says, scooting closer.
“On speaker!” Wanda adds.
Natasha slides the green button and answers the call, putting it on speaker, “Hello, you.” She says in a sultry tone.
“Hello, Natasha. I have been thinking about you all day.” Loki’s voice fills the room.
Natasha almost chokes, and the other two snap their gaze to the phone, “Huh?”
“Well you know, that thing you said before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”
“Really?” She asks, completely caught off guard.
“Yes, listen, why don’t you come to my room tonight and I’ll let you feel my muscles. Or maybe more.”
Natasha’s mouth falls open, as do the others’, and she grasps for some sort of answer.
“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Okay bye.” She hits end and her hands fly to her hair.
“Oh my god!” Wanda squeaks.
“He wants you to go over and feel his muscles and more!” Peter adds.
“Are you kidding?” Natasha says, trying to wrap the situation around her head, “I cannot believe he would to that to-” She cuts off mid sentence as a thought forms in her head. She turns slowly to face Thor, who had been munching on a slice of pizza while watching the Mario Kart tournament, “Thor…” Natasha says, “Do they know that we know?”
He looks at her with a guilty expression, and it’s quiet for a second too long before he answers, “No…”
“Thor…” This time his name is spoken in a warning tone.
He nods slowly, “They know you know.”
Natasha makes a noise of frustration, “I knew it! Oh, I cannot believe those two!”
“They thought that they could mess with us? They’re trying to mess with us?” Wanda guffaws, “They don’t know that we know they know we know.”
Thor groans behind them.
“And Thor you can’t say anything!” Peter turns and tells him.
He throws his hands in the air, “Couldn’t if I wanted to!”
***
Wanda, Nat, and Peter had ended their video game and moved to the couch to talk amongst themselves. You and Loki are standing in the doorway.
“Look at them, they’re panicked!” You whisper.
“Oh, yes. They’re definitely going to crack.” Loki whispers back.
You nod, “Oh yeah.”
Nat turns to look over her shoulder at the two of you and then looks back at her partners in crime.
“Alright, alright, if he wants a date, he’s gonna get a date.” She says, tucking back a strand of hair, “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She adjusts her jacket.
“Good luck!” Peter whispers.
Wanda is giving a subtle thumbs up, “Be sexy.”
Nat rolls her eyes, “Please.” She stands and walks towards Loki with a sexy smirk, swaying her hips back and forth.
He sees her coming and he pushes you away, standing to his full height and pocketing his hands.
You and Nat exchange a fleeting look before her focus is back on Loki.
“So, Loki, I’d love to come by tonight.”
The god’s smug smirk falls for a moment, before he forces it back, “Really?”
“Oh absolutely, should we say around seven?”
Loki tilts his head up slightly, trying to keep his composure, “Yes.”
Nat nods, “Good. I’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.” She winks and walks back to her spot on the couch.
Loki gives you a desperate look and you hold your hands up, trying to calm him down.
***
The three troublemakers plus Thor are in Nat’s room. She’s wearing a black, form fitting dress that reaches her mid thigh, with knee high leather boots. Her red hair is straightened and the top layer of her hair is pulled back into a braid in the back of her head. Her makeup is mostly natural, with a subtle green tint on her lids. A modest amount of glitter dusted her cheekbones.
Wanda claps several times, “Showtime!”
“Okay, Peter, pick out a perfume. Over on my dresser. And Thor, can you go grab me a bottle of wine and some glasses?”
Thor huffs but does as he’s asked, leaving the room to fetch the items.
Peter walks up to her with a small bottle filled with purple liquid, “I like this one!”
Nat smiles at him, “One of my favorites,” She stretches her arms out and closes her eyes, “Hit me.”
Peter sprays a cloud of the scent in front of her, and she spins through it.
Thor returns a few minutes later with a bottle of sweet red and two crystal glasses.
~Meanwhile~
You straighten out Loki’s collar and smooth out his jacket.
“Alright, you’ll be great. You just make her think that you want to have sex with her, it’ll totally freak her out.” You spray breath freshener into his mouth and he recoils, not expecting the intrusive taste.
“Okay listen, how far am I going to have to go with her?”
“Relax! She’s gonna give in way before you do!”
“How do you know??” He asks, and he briefly asks himself how he even got caught up in this mess.
“Because you’re on my team, and my team always wins.”
He scrunches his face at you, “At this?” He makes a general motion with his hands.
You roll your eyes, “Just go get some!” You grab his face and give him a quick kiss before smacking his butt, “Go!”
You run to his bathroom and hide inside, listening to the events in the room unfold.
~
Peter, Wanda, and Natasha are all outside of Loki’s room.
Wanda hands the wine and glasses to Natasha, “Okay, Nat. Now we’re gonna try to listen from right here. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Oh wait!” Wanda reaches out and unzips the zipper on Nat’s chest, letting her breasts spill out a little more.
“Oh, good idea!” Peter says.
“Oh, hang on,” Wanda goes to try and pull it down a little more but Nat steps back.
“Don’t give away the farm!”
Wanda’s hands snap back to herself, and her and Peter hide against the wall as Nat knocks on the door.
It immediately opens, and Loki is there waiting.
“Natasha.”
“Loki.”
“Come on in.” He purrs.
“I was going to.” Nat giggles, and slides past him through the door. He follows her in and closes the door behind him. As soon as it shuts, Wanda and Peter shuffle to the door and press their ears to it.
Nat holds up the bottle in her hand, “I brought some wine. Would you like some?”
“Of course.”
Silence settles over the two as Nat sets the items on Loki’s heavy wooden dresser.
“So, here we are,” She says, pouring a glass of wine, “Nervous?”
“Me? Never. You?”
Her answer is immediate, “No. I want this to happen.” She hands him a glass.
“So do I.” He takes it.
They clink glasses and both down the alcohol like it’s water and they’d been stranded without any for days.
When they finish, they set the glasses down and Loki takes a step back, “I’m going to put on some music.”
He cuts on a song that Nat doesn’t believe she’s heard before. It’s definitely a classical song.
“Maybe I’ll dance for you.” Nat licks her lips, and starts to sway and move her body. She hopes the alcohol kicks in soon.
Loki raises a brow as she gets closer to him. He swallows harshly when she bumps her hips against him.
“You look ravishing.” He chokes out.
“Thanks,” She’s still moving herself to the music, “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me want to rip that… Suit right off.”
“Well, why don’t we move this to the bed.”
“Really?” Nat stops her dancing, the statement coming out of left field.
“Oh! Do you not want to?” Loki asks.
“No, no. I just, you know, first I want to take off all of my clothes and have you rub lotion on me.”
Loki can feel his heart sinking because he can tell that the woman isn’t going down without a fight. And for once, he doesn’t want a fight.
“Well, that would be nice.” He says instead, “I’ll go get the lotion.” He makes a bee line for his bathroom.
He opens the door and slams it behind him.
“This is getting completely out of hand. Alright? She wants me to put lotion on her!” He hisses quietly.
“She’s bluffing!” You hiss back.
Loki throws his hands up, exasperated, “Look, she’s not backing down. She did this!” He copies the hip bump that Nat had done to him earlier.
~
“He is not backing down. He went to get lotion.” Nat says.
She had gone and opened the door to talk to Wanda and Peter when Loki disappeared into the bathroom.
Wanda and Peter look at each other and Wanda wrings her hands.
Thor walks down the hallway and sees them gathered at the door.
“Oh man, aren’t you guys finished yet?” He whines, crossing his arms.
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Thor, look, just look at it this way: The sooner Natasha breaks Loki, the sooner this is all over and out in the open.”
Thor’s eyes light up, “Oh, I like that,” He looks at Nat and an idea comes to him, “Oh! Show your breasts. He’s afraid of looking at anyone else’s but Y/N’s.” He reaches out and pulls on the zipper in a quick motion, causing Natasha’s boobs to nearly fall out of the dress.
The girls gasp and Peter covers his eyes.
“Wow, you didn’t break it.” Nat says, inspecting the zipper and adjusting her breasts.
“Not my first time.” Thor says, cheekily.
~
“You go back out there,” You say, grabbing a bottle of lotion off the shelf, “And you seduce her ‘til she cracks!”
“Okay, give me a moment.” He takes the bottle from you and looks around the small space, “Did you reorganize in here?”
You shrug and push him out of the bathroom.
He stumbles slightly from the force and sees Nat closing the bedroom door.
“Oh, you’re leaving?”
She turns and looks at him, pushing her chest out, “Uh, not without you, lover.” She walks towards him, making sure to show her chest off as she sways her body, “So… These are my boobs.”
Loki glances down at them before locking his eyes on Nat’s.
“They’re very nice.”
They look at each other, exchanging forced sexual glances.
“Well, come here.” He tells her, “I’m very happy we will be having sex.”
Natasha chuckles nervously, “You should be. I’m very bendy.” She steps closer, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Not if I kiss you first.”
She takes a last step forward and grabs one of his hips. He touches one of hers, then switches hands to touch the other. His heart is beating in his throat.
Natasha reaches out and grabs his other hip, jerking him forward. He tries to place a hand on her breast but can’t make himself go through with it, so he settles for her shoulder, and Nat makes a choked sound.
“Well I suppose there’s nothing left for us to do but kiss.”
Nat nods, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”
Loki quickly glances at the door that you’re hiding behind before looking back to Nat. They’re faces get closer and closer, both desperately hoping that the other will break before their lips connect.
But neither does.
It’s awkward and barely a kiss, but after about two seconds, Loki rips himself away and pushes Nat away from him.
“Alright alright alright. Okay, you win! You win!” He yells, hands up in surrender.
“Hah!”
“I cannot have sex with you.”
“And why not?” Nat pushes.
“Because I’m in love with Y/N.” He admits, running a hand through his hair.
Nat’s heart stops and she can barely string words together, “You’re- You’re what?”
The bathroom door opens and you step out, at the same time the bedroom door swings open to reveal Wanda, Peter, and Thor.
“I love her. That’s right! I love her. I love her!” He repeats himself, pointing to you.
You feel butterflies grow in your belly and warmth blooms in your chest. You don’t care that you just lost this little game. Loki just proclaimed his love for you to a whole group of people. That’s not something he likes; letting others know his feelings.
You walk over to him, sporting a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He takes a step towards you and places his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.
“I love you, Y/N.”
You let out a wet chuckle, “I love you too, Loki.”
He dips down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling your body flush to his.
“I just… I thought you guys were doing it. I didn’t know you were in love!” Nat exclaims.
You turn and smile at your friend, hugging your boyfriend close. Loki chuckles and hugs you back.
“Awh, guys.” Peter says, a large smile on his face as well.
Loki smiles at the boy then looks to Nat, “And hats off to Natasha. Quite the competitor.” He reaches a hand out and the two shake hands, “And may I say your breasts are still out.”
“God.” She mumbles and quickly zips the dress back up.
“All right!” Thor booms, his face filled with joy, “So that’s it! It’s over! Everybody knows!”
“Yeah, well actually, not everybody,” You reply, “And we’d appreciate it if nobody told dad.”
Thor’s face falls and Peter grabs his arm to try and placate him.
***
Tony is watching Peter mess around on the obstacle course.
Peter lands at the end with a backflip and turns to make sure Tony is watching.
The older man holds a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, buddy!”
Movement catches his eye and he looks up to the window of your room. It takes his brain one too many seconds to realize what he’s seeing because he doesn’t want to believe it.
“No… No!” He yells, standing and taking a few steps forward.
Peter turns to look at what Tony is flipping out over and his blood runs cold, “Shit.” He whispers.
“Get off of my daughter!” Tony screams before he takes off towards the entrance to the compound and Peter takes off after him.
Tony runs down the hallway screaming.
“Loki! Loki!” He reaches your room and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He bangs on it several times, “Loki! I saw what you were doing through the window! I saw what you were doing to my daughter, now get out here!”
You and Loki jump up and quickly fix yourselves.
“Well, listen, we had a good run. What was it? Four? Five months? I mean, that’s more than most humans have in a lifetime, so goodbye, take care, goodbye then.” Loki finishes his ramblings with a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to your balcony.
You quickly catch his wrist, “What are you doing?”
“Oh I’m going on the lam.”
You roll your eyes and pull him back towards you, “Come on, Loki, come on. I can handle my dad.”
You drag him with you and open the door to reveal Tony, who is as red as Thor’s cape.
“Hey dad, what’s up?”
He looks at you and then Loki, and storms into the room towards him.
Loki takes several steps back and you run to place yourself between them.
“Dad!” You place your hands on his chest.
“What the hell are you doing!” He yells.
Suddenly almost the entire team is running up to your bedroom door where Peter was already waiting.
“Hey, what’s-what’s going on?” Natasha interjects.
“Well I think… I think… Stark knows about Y/N and I.”
“Brother,” Thor makes a throat cut motion, “He is right there.”
Loki rolls his eyes.
“You are an semi-immortal god that wiped out half of Manhattan and causes trouble everywhere he goes, and this is my daughter. Loki and my daughter, I-I cannot believe this!”
“Look Stark, we are not just fooling around. I love her. Alright? I’m in love with her.”
Tony takes a few breaths and moves his gaze to you.
You step forward and grab his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way… I’m sorry but it’s true, I love him too.” You reach your other arm back to pull Loki into your side.
He looks at you with unsure eyes, then looks up at Loki and back to you. Then out of nowhere, his demeanor completely changes.
“Loki and my daughter! I cannot believe this!” He says with a more happy tone, bringing them both into a hug, surprise etching Loki’s face. He pulls away and looks at everyone in the doorway, “You guys probably wanna get some hugs in too, huh? Big news!” He says the last part with jazz hands.
Everyone on the team who wasn’t aware files in for hugs and congrats, but the other four stay in the doorway.
Peter smiles, “Awh, no we’re okay, we’ve actually known for a while.”
The smile on Tony’s face vanishes.
“What? What? You guys knew?” He stalks closer and Peter jumps behind Natasha, “You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” His voice became raised again.
“W-Well, Tony, we were worried about you, okay? We didn’t know how you were gonna react.” Wanda explains.
Tony looks between the four of them before the weary smile appears again.
“You were worried about me?” He chuckles, “You didn’t know how I was gonna react?” He pulls all of them into a tight hug.
When he lets them go Thor speaks up, “Okay. What do you say we all, uh, clear out of here and let these two lovebirds get back down to business.”
Tony’s smile vanishes yet again and he turns to glare at the god.
“Hey, hey, hey. I’m just talking here. He is the one sleeping with your daughter.” He points to Loki.
Peter facepalms and Nat drags Thor away, Peter following suit. Peter collects Tony and nods to you and Loki. Everyone files back out of the room and the door closes once more.
After everyone left, there were a few seconds of silence before the two of you burst into hysterical fits of laughter.
***
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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago
Text
Out Of Time ~ 113
MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 2,020ish
Summary/Warning: This chapter is mainly in everyone else’s point of view. The next chapter will be in Y/N’s.
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Y/N woke up, already knowing where she was. Her hand immediately went to her stomach as her eyes replayed the fighting she had witnessed. Her heart beat quickened as she relived those terrible moments. The monitors she was connected to warned the medical staff outside. Helen and her nurses rushed in.
“Y/N,” Helen called. “I need you to breathe.”
“My… I… the baby…” Y/n stammered through the struggle. “Is my baby…. It is okay?”
~~~
The waiting would always be the worst for Tony, especially when it came to Y/N. The pacing was paired with the constant worrying and need to be kept busy. So by the time Dr. Cho came out of the med-bay, Tony had developed braces for Rhodey’s now paralyzed legs and FRIDAY was already building them.
Rhodey had joined Tony in the waiting, via wheelchair, with Happy and Pepper joining as well.
“This is not your fault, Tony,” Pepper said, softly. “She made the decision not to tell you about the baby and to go to Siberia.”
Tony chuckled, darkly. “I’m sorry, Pep, but you’re wrong,” Tony retorted. “It’s all my fault… She didn’t say anything because of the Accords. Then I was forcing her to side with me or her brother and her first love…. I know her. She got too caught up in it all…. And that’s my fault. Like everything… My fault.”
“Tony,” Helen called, exiting the med-bay. 
Tony, Happy, and Pepper all stood. Tony rushed up to Helen, hands nervously in front of him and eyes pleading with her already.
“Just tell me, Helen,” Tony said, voice already broken. 
“I’m sorry, it—it didn’t make it, Tony.” Putting a hand over his mouth, he stepped back. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh my…” Pepper gasped, grasping onto Happy to keep herself up.
“Y/N is…” Helen paused with a sigh. “She’s not taking it well.”
“I want to see her,” Tony stated. “Can I see her?”
“You can. But I don’t know if she’s willing to talk.”
“I don’t care. I just need to be there.”
Helen nodded in understanding. “She’s in the room, second to the right.”
“We’ll be out here if either of you need anything,” Rhodey stated.
All Tony could do was nod before shakily making his way to the room Y/N was being kept in. The blinds were down, so he was unable to peek into the room before entering. His palm was sweating as he placed his hand on the door knob. There was a tenor in his hand as he twisted the door knob. Tony’s heart dropped to his feet in a thousand pieces as his eyes took in the room.
“No.” Tony took a careful, uncoordinated steps to the bed. His knees gave way next to the bed, hands grasping at the sheets. “FRIDAY?”
“I’m sorry, boss. I have no way to track her. Miss Rogers is gone.”
~~~
“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” Tony muttered, holding the phone tightly to his ear.
“Stark, I really don’t have time for you—“
“Coulson, I need you to be honest with me… Is Y/N with you?”
“I really don’t think that—“
“Is. Y/N. With. You?”
Coulson paused with a sigh. Tony impatiently waited, tapping his foot as his thoughts ran a mile a minute. His eyes were dry and red from the tears he had allowed himself to shed. The hard exterior shell that the great Tony Stark had built up was crumbling. He had lost his team—his friends, found out the truth about his parents death, and lost the child he didn’t know about all in the same day. And now, he couldn’t find the love of his life, who had to be hurting just as much, if not more, than he was.
“No,” Coulson finally spoke up. “I haven’t seen her. But I’ll let you know if I do.”
“You better not be lying to me, Phil. I…. I need to find her. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I’ll send a search out for her and let you know as soon as I see or hear anything… Mind telling me, what happened?”
Tony sighed shakily, covering his eyes with his free hand. “Everything fell apart…. and…. She lost a lot today. Her family… her child…”
“Her child?” Coulson gasped.
“Now you know why it’s important that I find her.”
“Yeah… I do… I’ll keep you updated.”
~~~
Steve and Bucky ran into T’Challa upon leaving the bunker in Siberia. The new King quickly led them to the jet he had taken to follow Tony on. He had found the truth, realizing that it was Zemo who had turned him against Bucky, and had taken Zemo into custody as Tony, Bucky, and Steve were fighting. T’Challa took the men to Wakanda and immediately got Bucky medical attention. The doctors there promised that they could find away to deprogram Bucky and he willingly agreed to go back into cryo until then. 
“You sure about this?” Steve asked Bucky.
“I can’t trust my own mind,” Bucky replied, seated on the medal table. “So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing . . . for everybody… Have you heard anything from Y/N?”
“No,” Steve shook his head. “I shouldn’t have let her stay with us.”
“I’m the one that told her to go.”
“What worries me is that she was so weak, that she could’t have gone very far. I honestly hope she somehow made it home with Tony.”
“Just… make sure she’s okay for me, punk. I need her to be okay if I’m going to be able to be okay.”
“Me too… I just hope she will forgive for everything.”
“Forgive you? You’re not the one who killed Howard.”
“But I knew you had and I kept that from her and Tony. I screwed up just as much.”
Bucky went into cryo shortly after his little conversation with Steve. T’Challa met Steve at a window, looking out of Wakanda’s labs.
“Thank you for this,” Steve said.
“Your friend and my father, they were both victims,” T’Challa responded. “If I can help one of them find peace…”
“You know, If they find out he's here . . . they'll come for him.”
“Let them try… I want you to know that I have people out searching for your sister. Since she did not sign the Accords and she is gifted, I fear the governments will be after her as well.”
“Thank you for watching out for her.”
“Of course. Family. That is the most important thing in this world.”
~~~
Tony had people searching for Y/N, 24/7. He was trying his best to help while also focusing on Rhodey’s rehab. The two friends were in the gym at Avengers HQ. Rhodey had the first design of braces on his legs as he tentatively walked beside parallel bars.
“It’s just the first pass,” Tony said.
“Yeah,” Rhodey replied, sweating from trying so hard.
“Give me some feedback. Anything you can think of. Shock absorption. Lateral movement. Cup holder?”
"You may wanna think about some AC down in . . .” Rhodey fell onto his hands, with Tony quickly crouching beside him.
“Let's go. I'll give you a hand.”
“No, no, don't. Don't help me. Don't help me.” He moved to his hands and knees, turning to sit on the floor beside Tony. Tony was clearly feeling the guilt of everything that had happened. “138. 138 combat missions. That's how many I've flown, Tony. Every one of them could've been my last, but I flew 'em. Because the fight needed to be fought. It's the same with these Accords. I signed because it was the right thing to do…. And, yeah, this sucks. This is uh . . . this is a bad beat…. But it hasn't change my mind…. I don't think.” 
Rhodey gave Tony a crooked smile and took his hand. Tony pulled him up onto his feet.
“You okay?” Tony asked.
“Oh yeah,” Rhodey responded. 
The men were interrupted by a knock on the window. They turned to see an old FedEx delivery man, with a package in his hand. 
“Are you Tony Stank?” The man asked through the window.
"Yes, this is--this is Tony "Stank". You're in the right place,” Rhodey responded, pointing at Tony before turning to walk using the bars. “Thank you for that! I'm never dropping that, by the way. Table for one, Mr. "Stank". Please, by the bathroom.”
Tony laughed before taking the package. He looked at it for a second, almost immediately recognizing the hand writing. He made his way to Steve’s office, still in the perfect condition the man had left it in. Tony opened the box and immediately pulled out a letter labeled, ‘Tony’.
Tony,
I'm glad you're back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself. Even if Y/N’s with you. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. Y/N and I have been on our own since we were 18. We never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. 
My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down. Which is why I can't let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't. 
I know I hurt you, Tony. And that I hurt Y/N. I guess I thought by not telling you both about your parents I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was really sparing myself, and I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. That Y/N can understand. 
I wish we agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you're doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do. That's all any of us should. So, no matter what. I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I’ll be there. 
Also, I honestly have no idea where Y/N is. I only have hope that she is safely with you. Please, take care of her. 
Tony dumped the rest of the box onto the table, revealing a flip phone and another note. This was was addressed to Y/N. He picked it up and carefully began opening it.
“Priority call from Secretary Ross,” FRIDAY interrupted. “There’s been a breach at the Raft prison.”
“Yeah, put him through,” Tony responded. He turned to the phone and pressed a button.
“Tony, we have a problem,” Ross stated.
“Ah, please hold.” Tony held up a finger.
“No. Don’t—“ 
Tony put Ross on hold before glancing back at the phone. He knew what Ross’ call meant. Steve had broken into the prison. Sighing, he lifted the note to Y/N back up and began reading it.
Y/N,
I know you well enough to know that no matter what I say in this letter, it won’t change how you are currently feeling. Hurt and betrayed. I hurt you and Tony by keeping the truth about Howard from you. I thought I was protect you, or so I thought. I do realize now that I was only protecting myself. I’m so sorry.
I haven’t heard anything about your welling being or location since Bucky told you to leave the bunker. I’m praying that you’re okay and that you’re safe wherever you are. Even if that’s with Tony. 
I’m sorry that I haven’t really been the best brother since we woke up. I woke up and you seemed to already have either under your belt. Not that any of that is an excuse. I should have done better. And for that I am sorry.
Please reach out to let me know that you’re okay. Or if you need anything. I love you.
Tony set the letter back on desk and hid his head in his hands. Tears sprung in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling.
“Where are you, Y/N? Where are you?”
next chapter >
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lyallblacklupin · 4 years ago
Text
Wolfstar x Friends (Truthful Thanksgiving Day!)
This is a wolfstar fanfic based on Friends’ season 6 episode 9: “The One Where Ross Got High.” 
Remus realizes that he should go and check on Sirius and help him in setting the plates for today’s Thanksgiving dinner. Sirius has taken the lead in cooking department and was very emphatic about his dislike towards people interfering and commenting about his cooking skills, so Remus has been smart enough to steer clear from his way. However, as the game finishes at Marlene and Dorcas’ apartment, who were also their neighbors, Remus gets up and tells them that he’ll meet later. He is always hopeful when Marlene and Dorcas are left alone because there is always a chance was for them stop their pining and finally becomes more than just roommates.
He comes in his and Sirius’ apartment, and finds that Sirius is looking drop-dead gorgeous, wearing muggle clothes. Half buttoned red collar shirt, black pants and  damp hair dripping into his silver eyes, which means he just came out from a shower as the scent of tropical shower gel is also mixing with the aroma of turkey filling the room. Sirius looks up when he senses his presence, and beams up with the widest smile. Remus smiles back but then the other one is smiling for too long, and also there is something strange about that smile—something uncomfortable—as if he is sitting on a cactus plant but struggling to pretend that all is well.
“So guess who’s coming to Thanksgiving dinner?” Sirius says, still smiling weirdly.
“Filch and Mrs. Norris?” Remus jokes, and flops down on the sofa in Sirius’ direction.
“I miss James.” Sirius rolls his eyes, “No, Effie and Monty!”
“Oh that’s great!” Remus relaxes, “They haven’t seen the place since I moved in.”
Suddenly, Sirius is grinning a little too wide, and looking anywhere but him.
“Yeah, and if you don’t mention that we live together that’ll be great! I was thinking about eating around 4!” He says all that in one breath, and Remus has to take a second to process of those words, and then it hit him.
“Why can’t I tell them that we live together?” Remus asks, trying his best to ignore the way Sirius was becoming jumpy and nervous as he starts to stir something white in the bowl.
“Cause they don’tknowthatwearedating. Do you think we should eat in the kitchen?”
“Why haven’t you told them?” Remus asks, a little confused.
“Well…ummm,” Sirius finally looks at him, his eyes guilty and soft, “I was going to, I really was, but at some part out of nowhere, I didn’t.”
Remus was too much concentrated on the way Sirius was becoming too much fidgety that it was almost entertaining to watch him, but he retaliates anyway.
“What!? Why haven’t you told them? Wouldn’t they be happy? I mean they mean so much to you! They are just as your parents as James’—“
“SO! DINNER IN THE KITCHEN AROUND FOUR! I’LL SEE YOU THEN!” Sirius’ voice is raised, and his face is a too sardonic to keep Remus from chuckling a little.
“Sirius…” Remus calls him in a singing voice which never fails to dissipate the tension from Sirius’ body, as he stops and looks at him with big puppy eyes, “Why wouldn’t they be happy?”
“Well, umm, because, umm mainly,” Remus is getting irritated until the other finally says, “They don’t like you.”
“WHAT!?” Remus is gaping at him because not even in his drunken mind he ever had the thought that James’ parents would not like hm. They were too good to take Sirius in as their second son, the Potters were the only pureblood family to be the best in their hospitality, and were very much embracing as they didn’t object when Sirius told them that he was gay.
“I’m sorry! Remus!” Sirius becomes jumpy again, advancing at Remus to calm him.
“Why! Why don’t they like me??”
“I don’t know…I mean maybe you are very quiet and sarcastic...and that may consider to be rude or something…or maybe because when you are reading, you don’t respond people who are trying to tell you an idea for making your bed a little hotter?”
Remus crosses his arms, looks at Sirius, deadpanned face.
“Is this why they don’t like me, or you don’t like me?”
Sirius smiles guiltily, “I know I should’ve told them, and I don’t really care what they think, love, but I’m sorry.”
“You know what, it’ll be okay!” Remus suddenly feels optimistic because of course, it’s not Sirius’ fault and he hates to see the guilt in his eyes, “Because when they come over, I will be all charming. I will make them fall in love with me, and then we’ll tell them.”
“You really think that would work?” Sirius’ silver eyes lights up.
“Hey, I can be pretty charming, babe. Won you over didn’t I?” Sirius laughs and leans in to brush his nose with his.
“I don’t think my parents would ever be a hopeless romantic like me.” They kiss the tension away, and then after waits for James, Peter and Marlene to come over for the dinner. Apparently, Dorcas have just moved in with Marlene, and according to her, she is going to meet some of her dancer friends to celebrate Thanksgiving, much to Marlene and Peter’s enthusiasm because Hot dancer friends and hopeless singles? Why Not?
The Potters comes to Sirius and Remus’ apartment, and there is all meet and greet session going on before Sirius exclaims, not at all coping with his subtlety, “Look! Look who it is! It’s Remus, Mom and Dad!”
“Oh it’s so great to see you, Remus.” Mrs. Potter smiles funnily, apparently not reaching her eyes, while Mr. Potter is just staring at him with his narrowing eyes but Remus is determined to change their impression about him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Potter, you look wonderful and it’s great to have you here! Let us take off your coats!” Remus can see the confused looking Potters, as he reaches for Mr Potter’s shoulder, “Woah! Snowing out in the Hollows?” He wants to slap himself for his needy sarcasm because there is a painful silence and Sirius is giving him THE glare.
“No.” Mr. Potter replies, walking away to sit in the living room.
“You are going to be fine, sweetheart.” Sirius slips his arm to tug Remus by his waist, “Just be yourself…but not too much.” He quickly pecks him on the cheek and scurries away to sit with the Potters.
In the meantime, Remus goes over to James who is in a heated discussion with Marlene.
“Hey, Prongs? Your parents like me, don’t they?” Remus asks.
“Pfft! Of course! They like you.” His eyes still on Marlene casting a delicate spell of the dessert Lily has made for the dinner.
“Pads just told me that they don’t?”
“Yeah, they don’t like you.” His eyes were still on the glass tray.
Sirius’ eyes are wandering around even though Mrs. Potter is talking to him with such amusement about her new neighbor.
“Honestly, Sirius, you should meet her! Her son is your age and is so cute—“ but she stops when Mr. Potter clears his throat a little prominently, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah I might stop myself, but you should meet him! He is such a nice kid.”
Remus can see the discomfort etched to Sirius’ face as he won’t stop scrunching his nose, but then he is gesturing him to come and sit among them. Remus does nothing but obey him.
“So, dad, Remus is one of James’ best friends! You remember him right?” Sirius beams up.
“James sure is a great guy!” Remus interjects, thinking hard of something eloquent and of course, charming, “I’ve always felt how a young man turns out as a reflection on his father.”
 This pretty seems like a success, because there is nothing sarcastic about it. The tone was okay, the words were just fine, hope the smile is not too wide.
“Uh huh.” However, Mr. Potter doesn’t seem to cooperate with him as he takes a sip from his wine, and Sirius’ facial expressions are now coming out too strongly.
Mrs. Potter comes to sit beside Mr. Potter, and now James is here to with his stupid grin and messy hair.
“Oh, Mum!” Sirius jumps on his chair which almost jerks Remus out from his, “Remus was just saying that he likes your cardigan.”
“Oh, thank you, Remus. I just bought it.” Mrs. Potter is smiling which makes Remus excited.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s very beautiful! It’s crème colored and tight and—“ WHAT!? TIGHT!?
Now everyone is staring at him, and he couldn’t feel more mortified.
“I did not mean tight—I mean not too tight—not that I was looking—I mean why would I look because I’m—“
Sirius elbows him to stop. James doesn’t stop sniggering, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter has a resigned look on their faces.
“What’s the matter with him?” Mr. Potter is now whispering but werewolves can hear still, right?
“I think he’s stoned again.” Mrs. Potter whispers back before Sirius gasps. Oh he heard that, too.
“What?” He is glaring now.
“Dude! I need to talk to you.” James is flushed red as he grabs Remus by his arm, dragging him to the room. Remus is feeling hot and cold, and he has an urge to hit someone in the face. Maybe James.
Once there were in the room, James begins, “Okay…I think I know why my parents don’t like you.”
“You do!? Why?”
“Okay look, we were young,” James chuckles hesitantly but Remus doesn’t join, “Okay, after fourth year, summer holidays happened. I got high in my bedroom. And then my parents walked in and smells it. So I said that you were here who got stoned and jumped out of my window to escape.”
“What!? Why did you do that!?” Remus is almost there in hitting the other’s face.
“I don’t know…you were the first name that popped in my head. I’m sorry!”
“What about Sirius!?”
“I knew that wouldn’t be believable because he comes from Noble house of Black! But look I didn’t think it would matter—“
“How can that not matter!?” Remus is surprised at his voice becoming so high-pitched.
“How was I supposed to know that we’ll become closer after you told us about your furry little problem? And also and most importantly how was I supposed to know that you’ll end up living with Sirius after Hogwarts, who happens now to be my adopted brother!”
“What about that all Friends Forever stuff?”
“I don’t know…I was all high…” James is trying his best to make out puppy eyes, but no, Remus is not going to fall for them 
Then the door is slammed shut as an angry looking Sirius is in the room. Remus turns to face him, and he looks very cute. Is this the time? Says a small voice in his brain.
“Mum and Dad sent me here to find out that if you” He points at Remus, “were getting James stoned!?”
Remus tells everything in one breathe, and is little entertained to watch Sirius getting enraged as if someone has lit him up by fire. Before Remus knows it he is lunging at James to rip him out.
“You’re—dead! Son of—“ He is hitting, but more like pinching, squeezing James, who is murmuring ‘sorry’s’ Remus pulls his boyfriend back, as much as he is enjoying the fight, he knows that it’s no use of getting defensive at each other because the problem still lies within.
“Look, that’s not going to help. James, you tell the truth to your parents.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay I’ll tell them.” James sets his dangling glasses on the bridge of his nose, while Sirius is still glaring daggers at him. He slips out of the room carefully away from Sirius’ thundering rage, leaving him and Remus alone in the room.
“Okay, so I guess it will be alright.” Sirius sighs, looking extremely tempting. Remus holds him by the waist which seeps away the tension from Sirius’ body. He makes a humming sound and buries his face in the taller boy’s chest.
“I’m glad you’re shorter than me.” Remus says in his hair
“Why?” A very grumpy and muffled voice reaches him, immediately making him laugh.
“Because you can relax your whole self in my arms when you are having a tough day.”
There is silence but Sirius has held him a little tighter now, then the muffled voice returns again, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
 The dinner goes on, and clearly James is trying his best to avoid the conversation with his parents.
“Why is it so important for Sirius?” Marlene says to Remus while eating the leftover yams from Lily’s plate, “I mean he doesn’t have to care. Just tell Mr. and Mrs. Potter that you guys are dating and living together, going to get married soon, and have kids like a happily after…”
Remus is staring at her how she is not at all interested, while making eyes at Dorcas who has just stopped by to borrow a bowl for her party.
“Is there something in your yams? Or is that just the effect of pining after your roommate?”
“Shut up.” Marlene scoffs, finally meeting his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“The Potters are Sirius’ only family. Can’t you see they call him ‘son’ and he calls them ‘Mom and Dad.’ He needs their approval too, and I understand that. I would have felt the same if my parents didn’t like Sirius which they don’t the way I want them to, because apparently he is a Black.”
“Yeah, but come on, your parent at least know that you guys are serious about each other. I meant SIRIUS.”
“Ha-Ha. That joke’s a hundred million years older now.”
The dessert is served, and nobody is looking forward to the mishap Lily has done. Trifle! Who doesn’t like a trifle? Except that it is not a complete trifle but also a shepherd’s pie. So it’s a no-no. 
“It tastes like feet!” Peter whispers harshly when everyone has left from kitchen to the living room.
“I like it.” Remus snapped his head up from his plate to see Marlene eating it passionately.
“Are you kidding?” He snorts.
“Well, what’s not to like? Custard? Good! Jam? Gooood! Beef? GOOOOOD!!”
Remus can say he is not that surprised because Marlene has two most foremost things in her life which includes food and being a raging lesbian.
Sirius has thrown his dessert from the balcony, and is currently convincing Lily that a pigeon ruined his dessert.
“So the bird grabbed it? And try to fly away with it…and then just dropped in on the street?” She asks, utterly confused.
“But if it’s any consolation before the pigeon dropped it, he seems to enjoy it.” Sirius replies while Remus has to keep a hand on his mouth to secure the laughter bubbling out of him.
James is still sitting with Marlene and Peter, not making any effort to do his job. Sirius glares at him probably the fourteenth time.
“James, let’s go.” He says, as Remus is sitting in the living room, watching the scene.
“Oh yeah, about telling Mom and Dad, I was thinking maybe writing a letter.” He tries to laugh with Sirius who has a stony face.
“You know what, you had your chance.” He turns away to step towards Mr. and Mrs. Potter sitting on the couch. “Mom, Dad, James smoked weed in fourth year.”
“What!?” They both says in a unison.
“You are such a tattletale!” James hisses, and then sheepishly sits in front of his parents, “Mom, Dad…umm remember in the summer holidays, when you walked in my room and smelled the you-know-what.”
“Yes.” His parents says in unison again, but this time their glares are fixed at Remus.
“Well, I told you it was Remus who smoked it but it was me…I am sorry…”
“It was you?” Mrs. Potter looks hurt. However, Remus can see Sirius still not looking contented with the situation.
“And, Dad, you know that employee who you fired from your hair potion company, he didn’t burst the batch of glass bottles, James did!”
James looks stunned as Mr. Potter is looking at him with a disappointed look.
“The chandelier in the dining hall didn’t break because of the thunderstorm coming from the opened window, Sirius’ spell did!” James retorts.
“James has been suspended from working in the Ministry for eight months!”
The Potters gasps.
“SIRIUS AND REMUS ARE LIVING TOGETHER!” It was Remus’ turn to gasp, but Sirius was raging like a dog who has been hit on its tail.
“JAMES MARRIED MY BROTHER WHILE HE WAS DRUNK, THEN GOT DIVORCED!”
“I’m in love with my roommate!” Marlene yells from her table.
“I wasn’t supposed to put beef in the trifle.” Lily says apologetically.
“I WANNA GOOOO!” Peter shouts, looking bored.
Remus is taking a while to process all of that has happened but eager to see how the Mr. and Mrs. Potter are going to deal with it.
“That’s a lot of information to get in 30 seconds.” Mr. Potter is rubbing his temples.
But then Mrs. Potter stands up, “Peter, if you want to leave just leave.”
“And no, Lily dear, you were not supposed to put beef in the dessert. It did not taste good.”
Lily looks sad, but Marlene is convincing her that she loved it.
“And I’m sorry, Marlene, but I think you should start by confessing your feelings to your roommate.” Mrs. Potter continues. “Sirius, love,” She smiles at him, “Why did you have to hide the fact that your important relationship is beyond me?”
“And we kind of figured about the broken chandelier, son.” Mr. Potter is also smiling now.
“James…” Mrs. Potter turns to her son with an upset look, “Drugs…Divorce?”
“What happened, son?” Mr. Potter asks.
“I got tricked into all those things…” James tries to defend himself but actually trails off.
Remus feels his heart thudding in his chest.
“Remus!” Mrs. Potter exclaims and he abruptly stands up from his chair, “You’ve been James’ best friend all these years, stuck by fighting his drug problem!”
James huffs while Sirius snorts.
“And now you take in up on Sirius as well! I don’t know what to say...” Mrs. Potter chuckles and then says, “You are a wonderful human being!”
Remus almost screams, “Thank you!”
“No, Thank” Mr. Potter gets up and kisses Remus’ cheek, “YOU!”
Remus can feel that he has never smiled so wide.
“James and Sirius, I don’t know what I am going to do about the two of you.”
They both look miserable, and Remus can recall their Hogwarts times when they would receive detentions and Mcgonacall would ask him to make the two of them realize their mistake and never do it again.
“I’ll talk to them.” Remus says, smiling ear to ear, as he is sandwiched in Mr. and Mrs. Potter’s embrace.
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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago
Text
heiress
pairing: bucky barnes x oc!reader 
a/n: this is part one of a four part series based on a song lyrics sent to me by an amazing anon with a reader based on my favourite oc. 
“letters strewn across your bedroom floor. such beautiful words but you can’t remember who they’re for“
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Y/N collapsed against the thin black matt again, her head thumping against the worn out floors off the compound and her hair covering the view of the younger recruits dancing in black ballerina costumes to the sound of ominous piano. She pushed her hands against the black mattress to look at her professor who was staring her down, yet he always did. He was taller than her, taller than any recruit around so if the metal arm wasn’t intimidating enough, his looking down into those storm filled eyes did the trick.
    - That was a cheap shot. 
    - There are no cheap shots in the battlefield. - he extended his hand to her but she denied him, instead using her hands against the matt to pull herself up. - You cannot expect ...
    - Fairness in battle. - she completed his sentence, arranging her ponytail while pulling the strap of her black top up. - I know, you’ve told me many times.
   - Then you should already know it. You keep this up and you’ll return to ballet.
   - You’re just a terrible professor. - she smirked, taking a few steps away to consider her next move. - You can’t expect me to expect someone to hit me in the chest.
    - I expect to see you in the Red Room. - he said, shrugging it out but she knew exactly what that entailed. The red room, the other black widows, she wanted none of that, none of that lifestyle. - You’re a good marksman. Just need hand to hand combat.
   - Best out of five?
   - We are not gonna stop until you bring me down.
   - Will you tell me your name if I bring you down?
   - You know my name. - he spoke like an authoritarian professor, perfect posture and senses as if he expected an attack from every corner. Maybe he was right in fearing an attack yet his position was almost frozen, tense even ... as if someone held strings over him and controlled him like a puppet. - C’mon, Daisy. You can graduate and become as good as any girl here.
  - I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.
  - I know your name. 
  - I meant my real name, not my code name.
  - Stop joking around and bring me down. 
Y/N pushed her jacket up as she stepped in the middle of the street with Monica and Wanda by her side. It had only been 2 months out of Westview, 2 short months compiled of hiding from whatever was left of SHIELD, SWORD and from the identity who had created Wanda’s fake haven. The plan was simple, elemental even, yet it proved much harder to gather evidence on SHIELD and SWORD’s plan when both she, Monica, Wanda, Jimmy and Darcy had both been considered highly dangerous fugitives so whatever they did had to be undercover. The walls have ears and eyes so all care was necessary, which meant no display of supernatural abilities or anything that could connect them to themselves. HYDRA had gone underground and still seemed to be pulling at the strings of SHIELD and SWORD, as Ross was working on a new generation of super soldiers with the excuse the world needed security after the Avengers dissolved and Captain America, Steve Rogers, dropped his shield. She should’ve known, after SWORD and SHIELD started experimenting with Vision’s body. She should’ve known but with the threat of Westview, they kept both her and Monica in the dark, instead redirecting their attentions to framing Wanda as a fugitive.
     - If that SHIELD hideaway is still around, it won’t be short of traps. - Monica commented, eyes surrounding the sea of people around. - What’s the plan?
    - Yelena and Jimmy are going around and Vision and Darcy are in the helicopter surrounding the top. 
     - You do know Vision can fly, right? - Wanda smirked, yet the unbelievable thing was she had not referred to him as her husband despite the wedding band around her finger.
     - Regular people can’t fly. - Monica said, rather amused at the thought of Vision trying to go by undercover in the sky.
     - We found it. - Yelena’s voice came through the intercom on her ear. - There better be some fighting for it to be worth while.
     - Wait up, we’ll let you know when we enter. No fighting.
     - You’re no fun.
They did not know exactly what they were looking for, they were just looking for evidence. her father was always keen on scattering things around. If there was something her father was right about was not keeping everything in one place, people would find it easily. She was sure, she was sure she would find something in that place which was connected to HYDRA, even if it was a map of other locations. If she were ever to clean their names, she needed evidence and then she needed to stop them. Super soldiers should have stayed in the past yet despite HYDRAs and her father’s mistakes the very organisations who swore to protect Earth, were making the same mistakes. 
The mundane looking home appeared in the horizon. It looked less scary now, less official than when her father dropped her there to be collected by Madam B. Even now, so many years past it she could fell the snow falling on her arms as the stern woman dragged her away from everything she knew. It haunted her, it still did and flashbacks went through her mind as she yelled for her father not to let that woman take her. She begged and sobbed but he turned his back on her as if her discomfort did not matter. Almost as cold as the snow that fell from the ground.
    - Hey ... - Monica put her hand on her shoulder, soft, reassuring smile. - He’s locked up. Can’t send you away anymore.
    - Even if he tried ... - Wanda’s eyes glowed red. - He wouldn’t win.
    - Let’s get this over and done with. - Y/N sighed, looking at the door as if it was a bitter lover. - Yelena, we’re coming in.
    - Copy.
Wanda rose her hand, twisting as the intricate set of locks and codes was over ridden by the red glow of her powers. Yes, it was no ordinary way of opening a door but it was the best shoot. The once scary room was dark, filled with dust and reminders of a great time for SHIELD. Walking in, she could smell the rotting wood, gun powder, and mold. It was funny how the house which still haunted her dreams was collapsing onto itself, a simple symbol of times which were coming to an end. Yet, like her trauma, it still remained tall, in the heart of Washington. They walked in slowly, nothing but the sound of their breathing until a floor board creaked. Immediately Monica pulled out her gun while Wanda’s eyes lit red and Y/N grabbed the gun tucked in her trousers. She moved her hand slowly, the old candles in the tables lightening up. As the light engulfed the room, she found the intruders had also guns pointed at them.
   - Drop your weapons. - she knew them. Sharon Carter, Sam Wilson, and ... Bucky Barnes. Shit.
   - I’m afraid not. - Monica replied, never wavering stance which could make even the strongest of man cower. - State your business.
   - I thought you said no fight. - Yelena came up from behind with Jimmy, both holding their guns up. 
   - You’re surrounded. Drop. Your. Weapons. - Monica repeated.
   - Wait, I know him. - Yelena pointed her gun at Bucky. - You were in the Red Room.
   - Maybe you should drop your weapons. You’re the one with a terrorist who harboured a whole town of innocents.
   - Sharon, I didn’t peg you for a gullible one. - Y/N’s eyes shone dim white, before she dropped her weapon. - We’re not your enemy and we are not looking for a fight.
   - I am. - Yelena rolled her eyes.
   - Lieutenant Ross wants to build a super soldier army and he’s looking for whatever information there is on the Winter Soldier program and Captain America. They were experimenting on Vision before Wanda broke him out and then both were held hostage in a simulation. We are not criminals.
   - You’re your father’s daughter why should I believe in you?
   - Because if not it’s 3 against 7 and it’s not a very fair fight. - Wanda snarked back before moving her hand, making the three point at each other. - Or you can shoot each other. 
   - That’s just mean, Wanda. Don’t you have a little pity for your friend? - Sam looked her way. - Look, we’re on the run. We’re not looking to turn you in.
   - Then drop it. - Monica shrugged. - You’re not gonna win.
   - I only count 5, I like my odds. 
   - Vision and Darcy are outside. 
   - I thought Vision was super dead. - Sam whispered over to Bucky who shrugged at his words, them registering void as his mind rushed over the strings of his memory to try and find why the woman who had just lowered her weapon was so familiar yet his memory seemed surrounded by red tint, nothing coming. - Wanda, you know me. We’re not here with malice, there’s no need for a fight.
   - This is waste of time. - Yelena rolled her eyes, lowering her own weapon. - Can’t you make magical handcuffs, Wanda?
  - That’s a gross understatement of what I can do ... - her eyes glowed red as they usually did whenever she used her powers to a particular extreme. 
  - We’re not starting a fight. - Wanda looked Y/N’s way as those particular words left her mouth. She could feel her energy trying to slip into her mind and successfully do so. Whatever made her mind safe from her tended to waver in delicate situations and Wanda loved whenever she got to peak inside her mind. This time she merely gave her a teasing look, eyes returning to their natural light green hue. Her eyes did not lie and she guessed neither did whatever piece of her mind Wanda got hold of. - We’re under Nick Fury. The last thing we are is your foe. 
   - Hey... is this what we looking for? - Jimmy held up a file with LE-0623. The number itself made her sick to her stomach. Every memory she had somehow had that number from the black shirt he wore to train to the files on her father’s desk. There was no question they had the right file, or at least one of the files on the Winter Soldier. She remembered laughing to herself at how long it had taken for someone to find one of the soldier’s red notebooks. To her knowledge there were at least five: one with HYDRA, one at the Red Room, one with a holder and the other two at different safe houses. She remembered Madam B. telling her the soldier was more machine than man and as such, like every machine, required an instruction book. It was sick, she thought the analogy was sick and now looking at him, years after she had known him, it felt sicker. There had always been a human inside the soldier but HYDRA was not interested in humanity unless it was submissive to them.
   - You can come. - Monica suggested. - You’re not exactly America’s sweethearts at the moment.
   - Why should we trust you? - Sharon cocked her head to the side. Why should she trust a team with the daughter of a man who had taken down her aunt’s life project? Y/N wouldn’t have trust her if she were in her place. - Or is that a kinder way of saying we’re captive?
 - You really think we’d need a kind way to hold you captive? - Wanda turned around, exiting the building. She probably knew the outcome of their decision before they told anyone. 
The two man shared a knowing look between them, following Wanda out with Yelena fast on their step but Y/N stood behind. The whole room looked so much smaller yet it vibrated with memories she had buried deep into her subconsciousness. It was still there, everything as it was growing old with dust just like her childhood.  It was lost. Monica looked at her with kind eyes, drapping her arm over her shoulder like she did whenever they were both recruits at SWORD. Everything seemed so far away now, even Westview seemed far. Time seemed to pass by the two like an enemy yet it lingered in the memories which haunted at night.
   - You three should go with Yelena. - Monica suggested. - You can come with us, Jimmy.
  - I’ll go with Yelena. - Wanda walked over to the former Red Room graduate, eyes still gazing over Y/N, looking for any gaps in her mind shield which was slowly crumbling the more she looked at him. - See you at the base.
Y/N looked over her shoulder for a second to look at him. He looked different, at least as different as one who does not age can look, short hair, relaxed posture sometimes even. Her eyes met up with his, familiar looks which lingered like a long kiss, yet she couldn’t bare look him in the eye and instead entered Monica’s old jeep. Monica took the driver’s seat while she took shotgun and Jimmy sat on the back, reporting what had happened through him com to a very curious Darcy who was probably bored off her mind being stuck in an helicopter with Vision.
   - Jim, can I see that? - Y/N turned around in her seat to look at the FBI agent who shrugged and handed her the file. She let it fall on her lap, fingers tracing the name she wanted to know so much when her whole world were the walls of the Red Room. She would’ve never guessed his name, even if she tried. 
Her hands traced the edges of the file, almost afraid to find out what was inside; yet when she opened them, a few letters slide out. Daisy. She recognised the fast written name on top in messy black runny ink. 
  - Anything interesting? 
  - No. - she blinked, closing the file. - Uhm ... not that I know. Maybe Alexei might know, he was a guardian when Sergeant Barnes was a fight intructor there.
  - Think the twins will freak out when they see Sam Wilson? - Monica smiled. The twins had a huge fascination with the Avengers despite both their parents being part off the initial team. Nevertheless, Billy and Tommy did not really care and instead got wide eyed watching old footage of the Avengers. - Last time they saw Hawkeye they were hyper for a month. 
  - Not sure Fury’s gonna be happy about having three new people in.
  - The more, the merrier. 
The ride to the base was excruciating as she replayed the scene in her head although there was really nothing to replay. She knew someday at some point she would see him, she just never expected it to be that soon. The last time she had seen him was the mirage of him in Westview, one of Agnes failed tricks, and even then she got tongue tied. Seeing him now even felt more unrealistic, he felt like such a figure of her past, like an unresolved badly healed wound. She really thought that by now she would be better at controlling it, you’d think 6 years would’ve taught her best how to deal with him even after all the past events where his face was plastered all over the television. Nevertheless, despite how slow time ran for her, they reached the small seemingly deserted area which started to glow red as Wanda broke through the hex she had created to protect their designated base. It was nothing special, Wanda had told her when she brought the team to see what she had been working on. Yet, it was something special and over time their team grew to give harbour anyone who looked for shelter from SWORD, SHIELD, or HYDRA and the initial team could not be any prouder of it.
The two jeeps parked in front of the entrance and immediately Y/N spotted Tommy rush outside, holding his twin by the arm. Both clearly already knowing they had visitors, Avengers visitors. 
    - Jeez Louise, you two. What did I say about using your powers? - Wanda stepped out of the jeep, hands on her waist. 
    - Not unless it’s necessary or under supervision. - Tommy shrugged as Alexei came running behind them. - Alexei supervised us, mum.
    - Just wait ‘til your father hears about this.
    - You got kids? - Sam asked, visibly worried at the fact his old friend seemed to have two ten year olds.
    - Long story. - Monica added. - You two inside. No place for you here today.
    - But you said we could meet the Avengers, mum. - Billy complained to Wanda.
     - You can always meet me, kids. - Vision joked making Darcy roll her eyes. Poor Darcy, she was probably already done with dad jokes. 
The briefing was long and drawn up with Fury mostly filling Sharon, Bucky and Sam into what they did and listening to Jimmy about the contents of the file. There was never too much in those files and it was mostly about ensuring they had all the files so Lieutenant Ross wouldn’t get his hands on them. Besides, it was up to Sharon, Bucky and Sam’s interest to join him as soon enough Zemo would be contacted by Lieutenant Ross and until he had one of the Winter Soldier files in his possession, Zemo was also one of their enemies. She tried looking at him a few times, memories of the time they had spent together clouding her mind and better judgement yet she couldn’t forget how Bucky had pushed Sharon behind him the moment Monica and her had pointed guns at them, protecting her the same way he used to protect her. Yet, she had no business thinking about him, not after what she had done, not after she became the sole reason why he ...
    - Y/N. - Fury’s voice took her from her own mind. Looking around, the room was vacant except for her, Fury, Wanda and Monica. She was so focused on her memories, she hadn’t even noticed the remains of them leave the room. - I told you not to go on that mission.
    - I don’t work for you, Fury. Besides, I’ve been there before, I was an asset to the meeting. 
    - You’re the sole benefactor of whatever powers your father had at SHIELD, if you die then Ross inherits it. If you ever disobey direct orders, I’ll ...
    - You’ll what? - Y/N interrupted him. - Tell my father?
    - You might not want to accept he’s your father, but he is and you have to deal with the responsibilities that come with being his daughter. 
    - Fine. -  Y/N stretched a fake smile on her face as Fury left her, Wanda and Monica alone in the briefing room. 
    - Alright  ... give them to me. - Monica extended her hands towards Y/N. - The letters that were in the file and you clearly took.
    - It’s his letters. I don’t think anyone has any business reading them. 
    - I’ll give them to him then. Hand them over, Y/N. - Y/N begrudgingly handed the letters over to Monica who got up. - You let yourself be easily haunted by the past. If I let you keep these, you will never give them to him. You can’t even look at him.
    - Yes, I can. 
    - Oh really? - Monica crossed her arms. - Then come with me and hand them to him. 
    - That’s just mean, Monica.
    - We’ll talk about this later, Y/N. - she pointed at him before exiting the room. Y/N slouched against her chair, looking at the ceiling above her. 
    -  Don’t worry. - Wanda reassured, hand on her shoulder. - I did what you made me promise I’d do back in Westview.
    - Thanks, Wan. 
    - You’ll be fine ... We always have to be fine isn’t it? - she looked straight ahead with a sadness which showed all she herself had lost despite having recovered the twins and Vision. So much for a nice suburban life.
    - So ... he won’t remember?
    - He won’t remember a thing.
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nervousladytraveler · 4 years ago
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a shit ton of kisses+ writing prompt
This is in response to the lovely & patient Anonymous who weeks ago asked for "you insist it's time to get out of bed but i'm going to pull you back with a kiss and somehow five more minutes turns into an hour"? Canon R/D
---
The third crow of the rooster was simply too much for her.
Demelza Poldark had lived over half her life on the Nampara farm and never once had she laid abed unless she’d just birthed a child or was recovering from mortal illness. This morning, the warmth and love in the old mahogany bed--and the body lying next to her responsible for that warmth and love--proved almost too much for her, but somehow her resolve triumphed.
She carefully folded back the coverlet and began to sit up.
“Where are you going, my love? Stay--lay with me awhile…” Ross pulled her down on the pillow next to him and kissed her ear sleepily.
“My darlin’ Ross…” she said softly and reached up to touch his cheek. It was rough for want of a shave. She’d noticed the previous night that his hands were no longer the calloused ones of a farmer but smooth ones belonging to a gentleman.
“Demelza,” he whispered low and gravelly, then flung one heavy arm across her body to bar her way.
“But I have chores!” she laughed and tried to push him away.
This time he kissed her hand, then clasped it firmly in his. She would not be escaping anytime soon.
“And you have servants--after all these years as Mistress of Nampara, you have yet to reconcile yourself with that fact,” he said in a playful scold. “Perhaps as your husband, I should be more forceful in my lessons on that matter. A firmer hand will help my disobedient wife to understand that her duty…”
“Is a duty to you?” She raised a questioning brow but couldn’t contain a smile.
“No, a duty to indulge in her own leisure. Especially when she is newly reunited with her husband, who has been away these many months.” His open mouth was now on her neck.
“From what I recall of last night, there was nothin’ leisurely ‘bout that reunion,” she laughed. “Tis a wonder I can rise at all, and yet I must just like every other respectable soul in the county. Maybe in London you lay about until well after…”
“Ten, sometimes eleven…” he offered.
“Ross?! You never!” she gasped. “What does that say about your nights?”
“Yes well, these things are expected of a gentleman in London,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m only trying to fit in.”
“I b’lieve old Joshua would be quite proud of you, Ross.”
“My father?” he asked. “Because I play the role of a gentleman well or because I’ve become an MP?” He leaned on one elbow but kept his hand pressed against her back. He was not yet ready to relinquish his prize.
“I was goin’ to say because you’ve become a wastrel…” she teased.
“At least you didn’t say libertine,” he sighed. “But on that score, you’d have confused me with another man.” Then fingering the lace that edged her short sleeves on what looked to be a new night dress, he felt compelled to change the subject. “This is elegant,” he said.
She had resisted putting on more layers against the chill and he was grateful for that. It was proving to be a lovely spring but in the early morn before the sun fully rose, May might still feel like November.
His fingers abandoned the lace and dragged along Demelza’s long and shapely arm until she giggled. Then he leaned down for a kiss. This time it was her lips he kissed--a slow kiss that was neither sleepy nor lazy, and full of promises of what was to come.
“Do you like it?” she asked breathlessly, trying to once again sit up. “Tis the lace you sent me.”
“It’s Belgian,” he explained. He watched her mouth as she spoke, waiting for his moment to pounce again.
“And all this time, I thought you were in London, Ross…” she laughed.
“Trust me, I’ve no desire to be gallivanting about the continent--even if the Crown should demand it. No, there is a small shop near my lodgings. The proprietress helped me choose when I told her I need a consolation gift for my neglected wife.”
“Was she very persuasive, then, this Belgian lady?”
“Yes, and about as old and warty as Char Nanfan. And I thank you, for this,” he said, his eyes running down the length of her night dress. “I was hoping you’d put the lace somewhere I could see it and not hide it under a petticoat.”
“I was considerin’ puttin’ it on a new cap for church on Sundays.”
“Oh the insult…” he chuckled. “But tell me when did you put your gown back on? I had such pleasure removing it last night.”
“And you did so in great haste, tis a wonder you didn't rip it, Ross.”
“I suppose it would be a long ride to London to find more consolation lace.”
“And if I weren’t so easily consoled?”
“Then this time I might need to go to Belgium.” For just a moment he let the sportive talk aside and pulled her close in his arms to show he was serious about making amends. “Were you cold?” he asked softly.
“Nay Ross, just seemed proper to be dressed,” she explained.
“In one’s own bed? With one’s own husband?” he chided.
“Maybe the company you keep in London feels otherwise but here in Cornwall…”
“I assure you I wake in my London bed very much alone…” He shook his head in amusement.
“So you're not entertainin’ enough to keep your company throughout the night?” Demelza’s eyes sparkled mischievously.
Now he laughed hard enough to shake the bed.
“Only one such woman inspires me the whole night.” He kissed her collarbone and cupped her breast, trying to strategise the best way to access the coveted flesh hidden by the fine muslin.
“Oh?”
“Yes, it seems I’m partial to Cornish women. And there’s one Cornish wife in particular that knows how to best service my needs…” His hand moved down, feeling for the hem of the gown to push up over her long legs.
“Service is it?” she laughed. “P’rhaps you should have stopped by the village last night before you made your way back to Nampara. In those sheds down Stippy Stappy Lane, surely there’s some good Cornish wife eager to serve a gentleman…”
“I wouldn't have had the stamina, my love. Besides I was saving myself entirely for you,” he said.
“And have you anythin’ left?” she challenged.
“I believe so. You laugh?” he asked, his hand had found her inner thigh.
“Nay Ross...” Closing her eyes, she allowed her head to rest on the pillow. Her lips parted, perhaps gasping for air, perhaps awaiting his.
“Then you must give me leave to prove myself…”
He leaned over her and kissed her. Then teasingly he pulled away and she rose slightly to meet him again.
“Yes, Ross,” she whispered, weaving her fingers into his curls to pull him closer.
Now it was her chance to claim her prize--and he would not be escaping anytime soon.
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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago
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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)
Tony Stark x daughter!reader
warnings:
a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺
prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh
The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)
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let’s start on a happy note! ahahah
so for a while, earth was calm
you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while
wedding planning!
of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts
“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”
“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”
developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)
speechless after the first test
“dad, this is...”
“the coolest thing to ever exist?”
“yes!!”
yall ready for some shit?
the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.
it all started when you got the call from your dad
“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”
“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”
“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”
“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”
taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket
knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool
“is this a museum? cool.”
bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys
“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”
charging into him for a long overdue hug
“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”
“i can...i can only imagine”
a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce
“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”
rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens
“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”
bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl
simultaneous nanosuit unveiling
“you ready for this one, pops?”
“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”
montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)
peter showing up
“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”
“because i’m good company?”
“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”
pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...
until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high
“call him. now.”
“hey! how’s it going down there?”
“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”
“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”
“i lo—l—ve y—”
“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”
“we lost connection with her, sir”
trying to call peter
“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”
“i’m gonna kill them...”
walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know
taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next
meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager
and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth
“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”
“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”
“oh...”
having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived
having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug
“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”
“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap
“a lot” -nat added
bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness
you, secretly freaking out about your dad
sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long
“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”
laughing through your tears
“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”
he gave you a little hug while you calmed down
getting to business, the ass-kicking kind
as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”
your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go
the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling
“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”
well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?
you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come
“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”
“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey
“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”
covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?
some more blasting
thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it
“hi, thor!”
you landed next to him and your helmet receded
“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”
having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time
and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard
but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark
“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”
watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat
“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”
“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”
he grabbed your hand while you were dusting
“tell my dad i love him, promise?”
fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words
he was mad before anything else
all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back
“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”
the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived
they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news
tony finally making his way back to earth
and stumbling out of that ship
“where’s y/n? where is she?!”
“tony, tony, calm down”
“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”
“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”
tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death
it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him
after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...
tony made sure there was a spare room for you
he put all the things you left behind in it
there were so many photos of you in the house
and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister
“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”
morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you
“when do i get to meet her?”
“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”
after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back
cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back
“get her back, tony”
“you think so?”
“i miss her, too.”
and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back
peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little
tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion
and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much
“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott
and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him
“dad? give us some room, would you?!”
2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was
but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked
push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!
he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought
and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap
just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you
and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound
“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”
“i think you’ll be able to see him”
“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”
“i think you can”
seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms
“miss me, old man?”
and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go
“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”
“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”
getting shot at during your reunion
“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”
yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up
the last one
“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”
“missed you too!”
rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!
“you gave my dad the message, right?”
“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”
“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”
“couldn’t let me forget it”
lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?
plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up
mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!
and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets
you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay
“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”
peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him
pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed
both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before
“so i have a sister?”
morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you
and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony
you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in
morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times
the funeral was one of the worst days of your life
the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day
then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock
“who is it?”
“it’s happy”
“come in”
“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”
she really was a stark
after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life
but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad
it took everything not to explode on camera
you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family
it was all you could get...for now
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iliumheightnights · 4 years ago
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We Have A Jedi [18] | Peter Parker x Male Stark Reader
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Fandom: Marvel, Star Wars Pairing: Peter Parker x Male Reader, Tony Stark x Son Reader Summary: It’s (M/N)’s first day of school and he gets to finally see Peter again. But now he faces one of his most difficult challenges, High School.
Read from the beginning
(M/N) followed as Peter led the way. “So over there is the library. If you ever need to use the computers or check out a book it’s right there.” (M/N) couldn’t help but smile at the boy as he showed him around the school. It was good to see him again, he honestly hadn’t expected to see him anytime soon. The fact that they would be attending the same school made his heart beat just a bit faster.
 ‘So..I gotta ask. What are you doing here? Why are you going here? Like…” He looked around before leaning in and whispering. “You’re a jedi.” (M/N) shook his head. “Not anymore Peter. Now I’m just me.” He could tell that Peter was wanting to ask him more about that but he reached a door. “Well this is your first class and you know where the rest are. If you need any help you can ask anyone but your best bet is to ask a teacher for directions. We have the same lunch so I’ll see you then.” Peter walked off but gave him one last look before continuing down the hall. (M/N) couldn’t tell why, but he was sad seeing him go.
Entering the class everyone stopped. The teacher stopped his work and looked at him. He looked like a stern man and (M/N) could feel some frustration coming from him. “Yes? Can I help you?” (M/N) stood a bit taller. He wasn’t about to let anyone, especially this man, walk all over him. “Mr.Dell? I’m (M/N) Rogers. I’m your new student.” The teacher rolled his eyes and looked over the roll. “Yes they said something about a new student. You’re late, I can tell you’ll be a fun one.” (M/N) gave him a fake smile. “Thank you. I just LOVE when I’m ridiculed for not knowing where I’m going in a new place. Not like I’ve been here for the last thirty years like you have.” Some oo’s and gasps came from the students watching. Mr.Dell looked pissed but only motioned to a seat. “You’re lucky it’s your first day. Sit by Miss Jones.” (M/N) gave a fake bow before walking to his new seat. He sat down next to the girl he had been told about. She gave him a quick look over and a smirk. “Nice job sticking up for yourself. Not a lot of people have the balls for it.” (M/N) laughed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m getting that vibe from a lot of these people.” They didn’t say anything else after that, just getting through the class. The day continued on, (M/N) introducing himself to his classes and meeting new people. So far no one has caught his interest besides MJ and Ned. He had a class with Peter but it was only one so far. It was lunch time and (M/N) sat with Peter and Ned, MJ sat a little bit further down from them. “So how’s your day going (M/N)?” The boy poked at his lunch, it wasn’t looking great. “Well, It’s been something...I can’t see how people do this for four years.” That made Ned look at him weird. (M/N) felt something through the force and he quickly pulled Peter closer to him as a piece of food was thrown past where he had just been. “Aw, we missed Penis.” (M/N) grimaced at that. “What did he say?” He turned to see the person who threw the food. “Flash.” Ned said. “Hey Penis. See you’re trying to corrupt the new kid.” The boy, Flash, said to Peter. He then turned to (M/N). “You shouldn’t be hanging out with freaks like these. You seem like a capable and cool guy, I think I can squeeze you in.” (M/N) could feel anger building within him. “I’m good. I’d rather be friends with the ‘freaks’ than the bitches like you.” Flash glared at him. “Your lose freak.” With that he returned to his table and took a bite of his own food. They were still talking amongst themselves loudly enough for Peter and them to hear. “Maybe he’s an orphan like Parker is.” (M/N) didn’t like that. He didn’t care about what they said about him, but he wouldn’t let them talk about Peter like that. He got lost in his thoughts until he heard Flash choking and his crowney’s trying to get him to breath. “Flash. Flash spit it out!” Peter shook him and (M/N) looked at him before realizing what he was doing. He was using the force to choke Flash. He quickly let go and the boy began breathing again. Luckily the others believed Flash chocked on his food but Peter knew and so did (M/N). However Peter only looked at him with concern. “(M/N), you okay?” (M/N) shook his head and stood up. “I gotta go.” He quickly left the cafeteria and contacted Happy to pick him up.
He waited out front of the school and it wasn’t long before Peter sat beside him. “So...is that why you’re not a jedi anymore?” (M/N) thought of that. Maybe that WAS a reason why jedi weren’t supposed to have attachments. He hadn’t even known Peter for that long yet had tapped into the darkside. “Possibly. It wasn’t the only reason why I left.” Peter quickly grabbed his shoulder. “Wait!? You LEFT!? Why’d you leave being a jedi!?” It was decided then. He really liked Peter Parker. “They wanted to erase my mind and keep me away from my dad and earth. I didn’t want that. So I left.” Peter didn’t let go of his shoulder. “Wow. You’re amazing.” (M/N) looked at him weird but smiled. “Says you.” Peter blushed and was about to say something but a car pulled up and Happy rolled down the window. “Gotta go. See you later Peter.”
He quickly got into a car and Happy drove off. The man didn’t really say anything but (M/N) could tell he was waiting for something. “I don’t like school...and that’s coming from someone who was once stuck in a collapsed mine shaft for an entire day.” Happy’s eyes widened. “What!? You were-what!?” (M/N) laughed at that and looked out the window. They continued to ride in relative peace and when they arrived (M/N) saw an older man walking into the avengers compound. “Who’s that?” The man seemed important but (M/N) wasn’t getting a good vibe. “That’s General Ross. He’s here to talk to the avengers about something.” (M/N) quickly got his things and got out of the car. “Thanks Happy. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
Entering the compound he saw many people in suits who seemed to be military officials of some sort. He continued past all of them and dropped his bag off in his room before continuing to look for his dad. The avengers were all going to a conference room and (M/N) fell in beside his dad. “What are you doing home early?” He asked. “School sucks, jedi business, had to leave. What’s going on? Who’s this Ross person?” He looked at his dad who seemed tired. “He’s here to talk about what’s going on with the avengers. You should wait in your room.” (M/N) didn’t stop or leave, he continued walking alongside them. “No. I’ve been part of some of the avengers biggest fights. Anything he says to you I should hear as well.” Tony shook his head. “I don’t want you there. You shouldn’t-” “I shouldn’t be part of this. But I am so I shouldn’t be left in the dark.” He looked at his dad and had a stare down. Eventually his father relented and the two entered the conference room. (M/N) sat beside Steve and his father. 
The meeting was...not a meeting at all. It was like a presentation about how the avengers were going to be made tools. The man, General Ross, showed videos of the battle of new york and sokovia. “The avengers are dangerous. They need to be held accountable for their actions.” (M/N) wasn’t liking where this was going and he REALLY didn’t like Ross. Then it came the accords. They wanted the avengers to sign the accords. “Signing won’t change anything. You’ll still be able to help the world and won’t be soldiers. You’ll just be more supervised.” Everyone at the table seemed tense but his father, Rhodey and Nat seemed less so.
“No we won’t.” (M/N) dared to speak up. Everyone looked at him and Ross eyed him up and down. “And who are you? You’re a child I don’t expect you to know what protecting a planet is like.” (M/N) felt his anger building again, he stared Ross in his eyes and spoke. “No. I know how to protect a galaxy and I’m sure I have more medals than you do.” With that he stood up and left.
He stood staring out a window at the lake outside. He felt his father stand next to him, before he could say anything (M/N) spoke. “As jedi we were trained to be keepers of the peace, not soldiers. But all I’ve been since I was a padawan was a soldier.” He could feel how his dad tensed up but he continued saying what he needed to. “I’ve spent my entire life being a pawn in a war. A tool to be thrown around, then when I made my own decision...I was cast out.” (M/N) tightened his grip on himself and breathed in. “What Ross wants you all to do...is exactly what the Jedi wanted me to do. To become their personal weapons. Signing those accords, means you sign over your freewill.” He took another breath to calm himself. “I will follow and stand with who I believe is right…” He then turned away from the window and looked at his dad in the eyes. “And it won’t be with who signs those accords.”
The revelation of Bucky Barnes complicated matters. Steve didn’t want the wrong people to get their hands on him and left with him. Tony had followed after but they had lost contact with him. (M/N) quickly followed after and was shocked to find his dad lying badly injured on the ground, Steve’s shield next to him. He quickly got him to a hospital and patched up. That’s when his dad told him about how Bucky had killed his grandparents.
“I...I understand this hurts dad but-” Tony blew up at him then. “But? But what (M/N)!? He killed them! Took them out of my life! He-” (M/N) kept his voice calm. “Didn’t do it himself. You learned about it yourself. He was being controlled, he had no control. I won’t say it doesn’t and shouldn’t hurt. I won’t say you have to forgive him. But you HAVE to understand he didn’t have any choice. I’ve seen so many of my friends and fellow jedi fall to the same thing, it’s never easy. Just...try.” With that he left his dad to think. Before he left his dad stopped him. “Sorry for blowing up at you. It’s not your fault...I’ve chosen not to sign the accords. You’re still teaching me life lessons.” (M/N) smiled at him. “Get some rest.”
Thanks to the whole accords ordeal the Avengers had been split up. Some of them like Wanda and Pietro left when Steve did, not wanting the governments to imprison them. Sam and Nat went looking for Steve to tell him about how Tony hadn’t signed the accords and even...even wanted to talk with Bucky.
In the meantime, (M/N) was getting used to life on earth...and it was bothering him. He knew there was still a war going on and he wanted to be out there helping people, but he also wanted to be with his family. So he chose to continue going to school and being around Peter, MJ and Ned helped. His dad had caught eye of Peter and was watching him for possibly bringing him into the avengers...mostly it was (M/N) pushing articles his dad's way of Spiderman stopping crime around New York.
So it wasn’t exactly the best time, but it was enough for (M/N) to be moderately happy. But his dreams were getting more and more vivid. Whatever it was warning him about was coming soon..and he still wasn’t sure how to stop it.
...
A/N: We’re getting closer and closer to endgame. I won’t lie...civil war wasn’t my favorite movie and I didn’t want to go rewatch it for accurate scenes so I just went with my gut and wrote a brief description of the scene while changing some things. I feel like it went by fine and oh boy (M/N)’s getting twisted by the dark side! Peter come pick up your boyfriend!
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rainpuddle13 · 4 years ago
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19. playing with each other’s fingers
Ross&Demelza
I apologize, @veryflowerobservation, for taking so long to post this. It sorta got away from me :P I hope you enjoy!
This fic is a prequel to Tears and Sunflowers.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was an ungodly hour.  This having to get to the airport a minimum of four hours before an international flight was for the birds.  Their flight to New York was scheduled to depart at 8:35am.  Ross didn’t even know why he bothered to attempt to catch a few hours of sleep the previous night. Demelza was practically vibrating with excitement in the bed next to him. She had never flown before. So he’d done the only thing he could do in that situation -- help her work off some of that nervous energy -- and he bore the marks on his shoulders to prove it.  He just felt sorry for the very nice elderly couple who were occupying the room next door to theirs at the hotel.
He checked his watch with a groan.  
6:21am.
He thanked the good Lord above for exclusive traveler lounges. If he had to queue with the masses in the main terminal, he might not be responsible for his actions. That early in the morning, access to only that swill that passed for coffee at Costa, and masses of travelers with varying degrees of comportment would have him seriously contemplating murder. It would be a very poor defence if he was brought before the crown court, but surely an understandable one.
“You should eat something,” he said to her after she kept fiddling with the fingers of his hand resting on the knee if her crossed legs. They were cuddled together on a small sofa in a quiet spot where she could take in all of the hustle and bustle of the enormous lounge. There were quite a few people for that early in the morning, but there was so much space that it hardly felt crowded.  He could feel her leg bouncing as she wiggled her foot. “The food is usually pretty exceptional.”
“I don’t know if I could,” she told him, weaving their fingers together and stilling her fidgeting for a moment, “too excited.”
Ross snorted softly as he was never one to be too nervous or tired to eat something. “You could get a haircut or a massage instead,” he teased, glancing over to see the expression on her face.  The Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse Lounge at Heathrow was an overwhelming place with all sorts of over-the-top posh amenities.  She was impressed they’d been picked up at the hotel and delivered to the airport in a private car and then were whisked through priority check-in and security in a matter of minutes.
“Really?” she asked, eyes widening with the obvious sensory overload she was experiencing.
“Yes,” he assured her, chuckling a little, and knowing her head would have exploded if she knew how much two upper class tickets had cost.  “There’s a spa too and shower rooms.”  Ross had wanted her first international flight to be comfortable and memorable, but he feared it might set her expectation a bit high for any future trips they might take. There was a far cry between the pampering in upper class and the indignities of the overcrowded economy class.  It was just as well because he would need the extra legroom these days with his stiff knee.
She pressed a little closer to him and her fingers toyed with the heavy rose gold band he wore on his left ring finger that matched the more delicate one she wore.  “You want to eat something don’t you?” she inquired.
“What I actually want is coffee,” he paused for a moment, his stomach answered her question with a low grumble, “and I probably could nosh on something.”  He’d opted to keep his eyes closed for a few precious minutes while she got ready instead of sending for room service, safe in the knowledge that there would be an abundance of food and drink provided by the airline.
“I can try to nibble on something.”  She pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek before standing up and holding her hand out to him and he couldn’t help but notice his beautiful wife attracting the attention of several of the men around them. Demelza was comfortably dressed in jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection and a deep gold turtleneck topped off with a rich brown leather jacket, and her glorious crown of red hair was barely contained by a loose braid.
Within a matter of minutes, he was attempting not to guzzle a cup of expertly brewed Sumatran coffee while waiting for his fry up to be brought to him.  Demelza carefully sipped her steaming cup of tea, but left her plate of assorted breads and pastries untouched.  He reached across the cozy dining  table to snag a flaky and buttery croissant off the plate.  
“You’re going to eat everything off my plate aren’t you?”  he asked when she raised an eyebrow at his thievery. 
“Noooo,” she swore, her eyes following the heavily laden plate an attendant placed before him followed by another to replace his near empty coffee cup with a fresh one.
He picked up the knife and fork to start in on the perfectly poached eggs after a liberal dousing of pepper. “You too can have your own plate. All you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t think I could!” she insisted, stabbing a bit of roast potato and grilled mushroom with own fork. 
“Likely story,” he snorted, pushing his plate to the middle of the table so she could graze more easily. This was a common occurrence with her -- insisting she couldn’t possibly then proceed to demolish his plate in fairly short order. It always happened when he ordered something that was absolutely terrible for him, but so very good for that exact reason. Anyone else and Ross would find the behavior less than endearing.
“Are you going to tell me why we’re going to New York?” she queried while attacking the fried bread to smear in the runny eggs he had somehow managed to get a few bites of before she could turn her sights on them. “Not that I’m complaining mind;  I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s a long way for a few days.”
It took everything in him not to blurt out the reason for what seemed like a sudden weekend jaunt across the pond, but actually had been in the works for months. She loved Van Gogh. The Met was having a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit. How could he not take her?  “I told you I really wanted good pizza.”
“Oh, Ross,” she sighed in frustration, then changed her tactic.  “You’ve been to New York before then?”
“Loads of times,” he answered, slathering strawberry jam on his croissant since it was becoming abundantly clear  he wasn’t going to get to eat the breakfast he’d ordered himself,  “though it’s been a few years now.  Father used to go fairly regularly for business and would drag me along.”
“What did you do when you were there?”
“I used to spend a lot of time at the natural history museum and the New York Public Library.”
“Of course you did,” she smiled fondly as she spoke.  She was well aware of his love of doing research and learning.
“I like dinosaurs,” he said matter-a-factly, "and the museum has an amazing exhibit.”  It was true. He did like dinosaurs, even now, and he’d wanted to dig for them up until the point he discovered girls were infinitely more interesting, and alive.  Demelza didn’t need to know that bit though.
“You are such a boy,” she said with a shake of her head. “What else did you two men do on the town?”
“Sometimes we take in a show or go to dinner at fancy restaurants.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was trying to teach me a bit of culture.  One time we went because Papa wanted to see Van Morrison at Radio City Music Hall.”
“Really?”  
He chuckled, surprised that little piece of information had taken her by surprise. She did know his father pretty well at this point.  “He is a fan.”
“I’d say so. He can be so impulsive!”
“You have no idea,” Ross drawled, tamping down some very unpleasant memories from his youth that she need not be burdened with,  “you didn’t know him in his heyday.”
She smiled fondly, and it warmed Ross’ heart that his wife and his father got on like a house on fire, but he could not help the occasional flare of jealousy it caused. “I bet he was quite the charmer back then,” Demelza giggled.
“You’d probably be married to him instead of me,” he said with a fair dash of bitterness. There were still a few things he just could not let go of and he knew it as childish to hold on to them for as long as he had, but then logic and his father were often mutually exclusive.
“I dunno about that.” Demelza reached across to take his hand with hers, twining their fingers and giving them a little squeeze, her eyes going soft as she looked at him. “I sorta kinda love you.”
“Only sorta kinda?” he teased, pulling her hand up to place a playful kiss to her knuckles.
“From the first time I saw you in the library,” she confessed, her cheeks suddenly blooming pink.
“Is that so, Mrs Poldark?” That was news to him and he was most definitely intrigued.  Ross had known he was a goner for Demelza the first time he laid eyes upon her, even if it took him months to actually admit to himself, and then even longer to let her in on his feelings. He’d had no inkling she’d felt the same. So much wasted time.
“Saved by the boarding call,” she crowed when the announcement of their flight interrupted their playful banter, and quickly began gathering up her things. The head of the cute little calico stuffed animal cat he’d surprised her with that morning was peeking out of the top of her purse.  The airplane charm that had been on the ribbon about its neck had quickly been added to her bracelet.
He grabbed up his laptop bag to sling over his shoulder and his cane. “Don’t think for one second that this conversation is over.”
“Not if I can make you forget about it,” she said with what could only be described as a diabolical grin.
He eyed her with great suspicion. It wasn’t in her nature to be scheming that much he did know, but she was definitely up to something. The question was going to be whether or not he’d survive whatever it was.  “And just how do you plan to do that?” he challenged.
“Oh, I dunno,” she purred, taking his hand before pressing in close to him to place a very sweet and demure kiss to his cheek.  “Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?”
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irondadfics · 5 years ago
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Do you have any long irondad fics you'd recommend? I really want to settle down with a good muti-chapter fic, I'd love to know your favourites!
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LONG FIC REC LIST PART 2
I know some of you are stuck inside due to be quarantined right now, and I really hope each and every one of you are doing alright. Please stay inside if you can and be safe! 
To help pass the time, here’s a continuation of one of our older lists (be sure to also check out part 1 for more recs). During hard times such as this, we often turn to different forms of art for entertainment and to help us cope. BE SURE TO LET THESE WONDERFUL AUTHORS KNOW THEY ARE APPRECIATED! 
This list is organized by word count. Most of the fics listed below are complete but some are not. For example if the word count is encompassed by two asterisks it means the fic is not complete and is subject to change, but the word count is correct as of the day this list was posted. 
ENJOY LOVELIES!!
The Guardian by Emily_F6 @justme–emily (234k+)
Guardian: a person who guards, protects, or preserves. When a terrible accident claims the life of May Parker, Tony Stark steps up as Peter’s guaridan. But it’s not just a traumatized super-teen he’ll have to worry about when he recieves a transmission from Thor.
If They Knew All About You by MsHermia (*224k+*)
Tony Stark had lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight with nobody the wiser of what exactly happened. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high.Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. They are strangers to each other, or so they think.Peter Parker is on top of the world. After a few shitty years, losing his parents and then losing his Uncle, things are finally looking up. Sure he lives in a crappy little apartment with his Aunt but he might have just found his mission in life.——This is an AU story obvious by some of the tags. I’m starting out a few weeks after Age of Ultron took place. Civil War will be a thing. Other than that I’m not too concerned about sticking to every canon detail and storyline.
The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle (220k+)
Homecoming A/U. Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.So he leaves.Simple.Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on.And that’s when things get complicated.
 Lights To Guide You Home (series) by JolinarJackson @jolinarjackson  (185k+)
Tony becomes Peter’s guardian after May dies unexpectedly and over the course of a year, they learn to become a family.
 hydra’s not a home (series) by tempestaurora @tempestaurora (139k+)
At 6 years old, the son of Tony and Pepper Stark, Peter, is kidnapped, never to be seen again. Or, so they thought. Ten years later, while raiding a HYDRA base, the Avengers come across a new, enhanced individual, working for the enemy: in black spandex, with a tendency to stick to walls and shoot webs from his wrists, the Black Spider is a pain in the ass in more ways than one.
 built from scraps by peterstank @peter-stank (138k+)
“Everybody needs someone. That’s what you said, right?” Pepper meets his eyes and he’s struck by the way she’s almost pleading. “We both lost. We can help each other.”Her hand, palm up and open, stretches into the space between them.Peter hesitates.Then he takes it.or: the one where tony was dusted instead of peter, so he and pepper try to figure out the whole ‘family’ thing together.(oh, and it turns out that the man who died in peter’s arms on an alien planet is his biological father. who knew, right?)
rescue me from the waves (series) by homebuilding @marveal (*125k+*)
“Richard Parker was studying Cross-Species Genetics, but struggled with the ethics of it, because it required he use human DNA, which no ethics board would agree with. So he used his own. His work was successful based off of his own DNA, and every human has a unique DNA,” Bruce explains. “So, naturally, when HYDRA wanted his research, they knew they would never get his support, so they took the next best thing they could to his own DNA. His son.“Or, Tony finds a tortured and experimented-on Peter Parker in a HYDRA base and decides to help him because who else will?
more peril in thine eye by iron_spider @iron–spider (119k+)
Tony sits in relative darkness, the TV on mute, Friday running searches like she has been every day for the past month. A month, since Quentin Beck’s grand plan crumpled underneath him on that bridge. A month, since a flash of light was able to distract Peter just as he was about to bring Beck down. A month, since Beck snatched him, since both of them disappeared. An entire. Month.I’ll keep you updated. I promise.I love you, kid. Rhodey’s on his way, alright? He’s coming. He’s gonna go as fast as he can.I love you too. I’ll be okay. I promise. I can do this.The last thing Tony heard Peter say. Rhodey, Happy and Fury traversed the London landscape immediately afterwards. They found the glasses, but not Spider-Man. There was footage enough to incriminate Beck for what he was, but somehow, nobody was able to get a shot of when he grabbed Peter. Peter was knocking him around, looked like he was getting the upper hand, and then that flash of light. Gone. Gone.
 I Never Knew I Was Broken by GotMyInkPen @gotmyinkpen (*111k+*)
Peter Parker has been living in HYDRA ever since his parents died at age four. All he can remember are the lesson’s HYDRA taught him and a series of words that strike fear into his heart. The only thing driving him forward are the memories of meeting his hero The Winter Soldier when he was seven and the goal to one day be as great an assassin as him.At age sixteen Peter finds himself tangled in the lives of the Avengers and can’t help but wonder if there’s more to life than what he’s been told.Tony wants to help him, no matter what.
 Reviving Peter Parker by YellowDistress @yellowdistress (100k+)
Spider-Man was murdered five years ago, on a beach, at the hands of Adrian Toomes. Peter Parker never came home.Spider-Man was murdered five years ago. Today Peter Parker took his first breath.
 It’s a Secret to Everybody by StarPrince_Punk @starprincepunk (97k+)
“I have kids,“ Clint said. “I know dad behavior when I see it.”Tony blinked multiple consecutive times, processing the statement. “Excuse me?”“Tony,” Steve said now, “how long have you had a son? And how come we’ve never known about him?”“Yeah,” Clint spoke again, “I thought I was the only one with a secret family. Turns out you’ve had one longer than me!”——-Peter gets to spend all summer living in Avengers Tower with Tony. When the Rogue Avengers get pardoned and come back to live at the Tower too, they’re confused as to who Peter is. However, once they see how Tony acts around Peter, that confusion goes away, as they know for certain who Peter must be - Tony’s secret son.Tony and Peter decide to make the most of the situation, and play along. They hope they can keep up the act all summer. But they soon learn that they barely have to act at all.
 Peter and the Jailbirds by beautifullights @beautifullights1 (86k+)
NOW COMPLETE “If you did play chess,” Ross said, “you’d remember that a pawn can become a queen. The most powerful piece on the board, Parker, remember that? But—” Ross smiled— “only if it obeys.”He adjusted his tie, stood, and looked down at Peter. “I’ll ask you again,” he said. “Eventually. You may feel differently after you’ve been living in a six-by-six cube without sunlight or fresh air for a few years.” “What pawns do,” Peter said, voice shaking slightly, “is sacrifice themselves for the greater good. I have no regrets.”He had a lot of regrets.Like, a lot. A crapton. A shitload. An overloaded dumpsterful.“When I visit you on the Raft,” Ross said, “you’ll be old enough to grow a beard.” The cell door clicked shut behind him. [Rated mature for graphic violence.]
 Hardest Lessons (Softest Results) (series) by mainstreamelectricalparade @riseuplikeglitterandgold (*76k+*)
The MCU if Peter was Tony’s biological child.
 In the Home by aloneintherain (68k+)
The Avengers have been infected, turned violent and aggressive against their will. And Peter, the only one unaffected, is trapped inside the Tower with six feral teammates.“Natasha,” Peter says cautiously, “what happened here? Steve attacked me, and if there was ever a sign that something was wrong, it’s having the embodiment of Truth, Justice, and the American Way throw you across the room—”Natasha comes closer, her stride controlled. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary, but there’s something in her face, in her eyes—Natasha lunges across the space, and slams into Peter, hard.
 From Fraud to Father by TonyStarkissist @tonystarkissist (67k+)
“Tony,” she placated, “all you have to do is read a couple children’s books to them and answer a few of their questions. You’ll be fine.” “Will you come with me? You’re so good with kids,” he pleaded as she finished up with his collar and awkwardly patted the lapels of his suit down, forcing a smile onto her face when she looked up at him.“No. I’ve got a lot of work to do. Phil’s going with you, though, and so is Happy. You shouldn’t have a problem. They’ll make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”Theres a long pause before Tony finally voices his true concern.“But what if one of them sneezes on me?”
Archetype by Bean_reads_fanfic @the-reverse-mermaid (57k+)
Tony knows something is up when the research of ex-Hydra agents gets recycled in an underground Oscorp lab… what he doesn’t expect is the boy in a hospital gown sticking to the ceiling; or, how said boy proceeds to imprint on him like a baby duckling (a poor decision on his part, really). Did he mention he wasn’t intending on bringing home a kid that day?
 Taking Leaps (and the falls that come with them) by Kamomile_Tea (*45k+*)
All across New York City the boroughs are crying out with one voice, asking a question everyone wants the answer to.Where is Spiderman?But no one is asking about Peter Parker.So, he sits alone. Contemplating how his life could have gone so downhill. Grief and nausea well up in his chest and the boy quickly shoves it back down. A shiver courses through him as the cold November air seeps into the building and through his thin clothing. And on the back of his navy blue overshirt, in blocky, white letters, reads the words:CROSSROADS JUVENILE CENTERBROOKLYN NYINMATE 3042 ========== The world seems content with ignoring this young teen. That is, until Tony Stark shows up and asks him if he wants to go to Germany.
Runaway by Spectra @iridescent-spectra  (42k+)
Tony and his adopted son Peter get into a huge spat over his late night spiderman escapades, in which case Peter takes the term ‘Not while you’re under my roof’ way too seriously. After all, how hard could it be to run away from a multi billion dollar genius?Chaos ensues as the whole city becomes a metaphorical chessboard for the two equally stubborn masterminds.
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kaylathekittykat225 · 5 years ago
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Tears in the Heart // Steve Harrington X Wheeler!Reader
Warning/s: language, angst, fluff? Flufting? Flirting? I don’t know man. I just went into a frenzy writing.
Word Count: Y’all it keeps getting going, I need to be stopped; 25k. I am sorry, I got excited
Guys, y’all are egging me on to write angst, and angst is my love somehow, don’t stop. And it’s all fine that angst is how I write, that and slow burrrrrrrrrn! Okay go onto reading.
This one was requested by gwenandtheunfortunatename
Hey!! I just love your writing and long fics!!! Can u do one where the reader is a female!Wheeler reader and feels invisible with her family but actually has a few friends in school? Nancy and Steve are dating but then he slowly starts to notice how she doesn’t treat her sister well (maybe the reader is missing from school one day?) or doesn’t pay attention so it becomes a concern for him or someth??
Here’s my Masterlist.
Enjoy.
—–
Watching paint dry was always the most infuriating thing, especially for you as someone who was so excited for the first layer of paint to dry so that you could start applying the next layer or just wanting your beautiful art piece to be done so you could feel accomplished with what you just did. Watching paint dry was an infuriating task, and yet here you were, dancing around your room to the music your radio was blasting for you while you continued to wait for the first layer of what you were painting to dry enough so as not to smudge.
Some great artists prefer to work even through the wet paint: Monte used it to blend two colors together seamlessly, Van Gogh used it to have the colors stand out more when he used the globs of paint to add dimension to the canvas, Bob Ross used the wet paint to ring out the true beauty of the world and showing how colors don’t stand out, but truly blend in together. 
You worked differently than those guys, for one thing you weren’t a famous painter like they were. But you couldn’t stand mixing colors together from different layers. The composition looked messy when you tried doing it, so you knew you felt more comfortable with layering and drying paint on top of itself. Just was not the thing for you.
The song changed and a grin grew on your face as you heard the guitar riff opening and felt a rush of energy surging through you. Your paint brush was held in your mouth between your teeth and your dancing started back up again as you cranked the volume up a little louder to get the entire room shaking. The music was so loud, and you were so in the zone of mixing up your next shade of reddish pink that you didn’t hear someone screaming at you about the volume of your radio. They noticed when your volume went up and that you weren’t noticing their calling your name. 
You didn’t notice them until they turned off your radio entirely and tried calling your name again. “Y/N.” Your name was called again, this time it startled you to the point that you let out a small scream that let you drop your paint brush from your mouth and strike the ground. Spinning to face your radio, you saw your mother staring at you with a look on her face that you often received when you did something wrong. “It’s almost midnight, Y/N. Holly and Michael are in bed, where you should be, and your sister is trying to study for an exam tomorrow. Now is not the time for you to let the entire neighborhood hear what you are listening to.”
“Sorry, mom.” You grabbed your paint brush off the ground and looked back up to see your mother had been replaced by your older sister. “Sorry I disturbed your studying. What class is it for?” While you asked your question, you worked on moving your easel from the middle of your room to one of the corners while also chucking your paints into a box along with your brushes. 
When your sister didn’t answer, you looked up at her to see her just staring at you from the door. She had this little smile on her face, one that didn’t show any emotion though. “Oh, it’s not like you care about my test. All you worry about is your art and painting. Next time, at least put on some better music, not your shitty trash.” And with that, she shut the door behind her with a flick of her hair over her shoulder as she left. 
You finished cleaning up after your paint dance, not giving too much thought to what she said to you as you pulled your sweater over your head and changed into your pajamas. Comments like that have been a common back and forth between the two of you ever since you entered high school with Nancy. 
Maybe it was something to remind you that you were a year younger and she knew her way around the school better than you did. Honestly why she was doing this was unknown to you, so you just rolled with it. She never said anything mean or anything like that, just…
You shook your head as you pushed your covers back and slid into bed, getting ready to pull your lamp cord when there was a loud thud coming from your window. Instinct told you to ignore it and just go to sleep leaving whatever outside your window outside, it was most likely a squirrel who ran into the glass of your window while trying to get back onto its nest. 
And you tried. You did click your lamp off and pulled your covers up to your chin, letting your eyes fall shut as you worked on falling asleep for tomorrow's day. As soon as your eyes were closed however, another tap rattled your window, and something was making noises outside the glass. “Just ignore it.” That was your mantra for the time being as you did so, pretending the sound wasn’t there and that you could just. Fall. Asleep. 
Tap tap tap. “Dammit.” You groaned while throwing the blankets off you, following your intuition through the dark room to where your window should be, having forgotten to send the light back through the room as your annoyed self walked closer to the window. “I’m going to kill this fucking squirrel and eats its nu-” Your rant to yourself was interrupted as soon as you forced your blinds open and you saw a face staring back at you in the darkness outside. 
A shriek left your mouth as you took a step backwards, stumbling away from the horrifying sight of someone staring back at you in the night. The face itself jumped back ever so slightly from where it was pressed against your window when it saw you too. 
The two of you stared at each other for a few more seconds before you recognized who the hell was staring into your bedroom window. It was your sister’s boyfriend, Steve Fricking Harrington. Why the hell was he staring into your window?
Pulling open your window, you looked over at your clock and saw that it was midnight, stating this to the boy who was hanging from your window frame, his fingertips turning red from holding on. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, Snow White. I’m sorry I didn’t want to fall to my death.” His voice came out strained as he moved to pull himself into your window. 
“Whoa! I didn’t say you could come in! What are you doing on my windowsill? Stop climbing in my window!” Your voice was a whisper that also counted as yelling as you tried stopping him from entering your room, not to much avail though. “Harrington, what what are you doing here?!” 
“Shut up, Wheeler.” Steve finished coming through the window, somehow finding a way to trip as his foot finished coming through, falling into you and sending the two of you down to the floor. “Jesus, Wheeler, sorry to say, but I do have a girlfriend. You are being very forward though.” From where you were laying on the floor with him kneeling over you on all fours, Harrington had this shit eating grin on his face which caused a slight anger to boil inside you.
Instead of answering him, you shoved your hand into his face and pushed him away, telling him to get off you with a mutter. “Wh-what are you doing here, Harrington? It’s midnight and you are in my room. What the hell is going on?” Standing to your feet, you watched him also pull himself up while shifting his hair around to make sure it stood where he wanted it to be.
“Funny story there, Wheeler. But that is a story for another time.” He spoke to you as though his being in your room was not a pressing matter. “What I do need to know, Wheeler, is how pissed your dad would be about finding me here?” Steve craned his neck to look out your window, apparently trying hard not to be spotted as he was looking for most likely your father. 
Scoffing, you sat back down in your bed, staring at him from where you sat. “Honestly, it’s not my dad you should be worried about.” He sighed at your response in relief. “My mom on the other hand…” You made a face that got the message across, because your dad was an amazing man, but your mother had her own mind that definitely got in the way of a lot of things your sister and even yourself sometimes when Karen Wheeler brought her mind to a stop. And Nancy seemingly sneaking her boyfriend into her room next to yours was definitely not something your mom would be fine with.
You heard a quiet ‘shit’ and felt a small feeling of smugness rush through you as quickly as the cold overtook your room. “If you’re gonna sneak in and out of Nancy’s room, honestly it would be quieter just to go from my room to the shed on the other side of the room.” Steve stared at you curiously at this suggestion, even you yourself were shocked at your offering, but you really couldn’t take that back after he quietly inched his way closer to the window at the other end of your room. 
Standing up, you made your way over to be next to him as he pulled your curtains away from the window, revealing that your window had easier access to get to the ground than your sister and the garage. “Plus, I have direct access to the woods, so my parents won’t notice your car around if you park it behind that big tree back there.” While pointing all these features out, you noticed that he was staring at you with a look that read extreme confusion. 
“Why...why are you helping me sneak into your sister’s room?” You both were wondering that, but he didn’t have to voice it like that. Your face grew warmer as you fumbled for words about why you did this, because you didn’t really know why except for the excuse of not wanting them to get caught and then the entire family being forced not to ever leave again. That was a good excuse, it did the trick though. 
Because you couldn’t explain why you would stick your neck out like that, for Nancy and Harrington. Nothing against the two of them, but you were too impartial to the two of them to risk anything. 
So you scoffed and gave him the lame excuse you thought of and worked on shooing him out of your room. “Okay, okay. Jeez, Wheeler, I’m leaving. Sorry to whoever has to deal with sleep deprived you for the rest of their lives.” He shimmed himself out of the window, forgetting completely to close your other window, forcing you to get back out of bed and shut it before shutting the window he just dropped down from.
You watched him sneak his way to the front of the house and hopefully make an uneventful exit before you pulled the curtains in front of your window shut, bringing your world around you into darkness that you found oddly uncomfortable while standing in the middle of the room. 
Sleep didn’t come as easily as you wanted it to; it never really took you over, leaving you to sleep more restlessly than normal and thus a sleep deprived Y/N took to the world. Your first few periods floated past you honestly like a dream, nothing happened, just the teacher murmuring on about their respective subjects. Nothing interesting to you really.
Your mother frequently got on your case to pay more attention in these classes, because every year, like clockwork, during parent teachers week, your teachers would comment on how you needed to remember to turn in your homework, or if you do turn in your homework, to not doodle across half of it. It was always commenting about your behavior in classes and school, how you looked like you would rather be somewhere else than cooped up there all day. Your mother always told you to do better. Why did you have to be interested in painting? Why not a sport or be good at school like your sister because brains could get you a good husband and an easy life. 
Your father never spoke up during these meetings, sitting there because he was the man of the family and should be an example for his daughter to marry. He never took your side, but he also never defended your mother and her beliefs of how you should follow in your sister’s footsteps. It was never a secret, but your dad gifted you various paints, brushes, new pencils. When you were running out of a specific paint, or needed a new book or canvas, you found one more always tucked away in your closet, where you thought you checked, but there it was anyway. 
There were few things in the world you knew for certain, you loved painting and how it freed your soul, how excited you were to graduate and head to California to get away from this damned town, but one thing you were certain on, was that you were not unloved by your father. You never doubted his love even if it wasn’t on his sleeve like your mother’s love of Nancy. 
Speaking of Nancy, honestly after last nights...odd interaction between Harrington and yourself, you didn’t know how to look him or your sister in the eye. You had nothing to be ashamed of, it's not like you kissed him or anything, just the thought alone made you shudder, so why were you unable to look at them throughout the school day? 
“Ugh!” You groaned at these stupid thoughts that were plaguing your thoughts and slammed your head down onto your notebook on the lunch table you were sitting at. Your sudden noise and head banging caused the other occupants of your table to look up; Matt and Clare had been giving each other looks all lunch with how you were acting today.
On any given day you were still quiet and almost always doodling away in the margins of your notebooks or going so far as to pulling your full sketchbook out just to get a bigger picture going. But you didn’t have a book open in front of you or a pencil in your hand, instead your fingers were rapping against the hard table and your leg was shaking so bad that you were shaking the table. 
You were so out of it that you couldn’t hear your own name being called. “Y/N...Y/N.” Matt had been repeatedly calling your name the last five minutes after he finished up his own lunch and was eyeing your Cheetos that hadn’t been touched. Clare told him to leave you alone, but your ginger friend was ever persistent in stealing your food. “What if I just take the bag from her?” He directed the question towards Clare next to him while staring at your bag of snacks. 
“I mean she’s out of it enough that I kind of want to see what happens.” Clare was watching you just as intently, your head was still down on the table. “She may have died; I haven’t seen her move since her head fell down.” Clare said Y/N and died and Matt let out the loudest gasp the cafeteria ever heard; she didn’t honestly know which one to be more embarrassed about, the fact that heads turned or that not enough heads turned for this to be the first time for him to be this obnoxious in the school lunchroom. 
While Matt was busy slapping a bruise excitedly on Clare’s arm, you raised your head up and roughly rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands. “I’m not dead, Matt. I just...I can’t figure out this drawing.” 
“No, no, no, no. But wait.” Matt decided to ignore your distress and Clare’s slapping his hand away and kept talking. “But think about it! The perfect way to murder someone! What if Nancy wanted to kill Y/N and what she’s been doing is poisoning her food slowly over time and it’s finally kicking in! Nancy Wheeler is mur-” Your best friend was screaming at this point before your other best friend slammed her hand over his mouth with a dark blush over her face.
“Matthew Schafer listen to me hard and clear. Shut. Up. Now is not the time for one of your theories, especially one about a certain someone’s sister.” Clare growled that last piece out while tilting her head towards you. The two of them looked over to you as they saw you doodling away on a napkin you had picked up from the lunch line, your chin resting on your hand and your other, dominant hand, held the pencil you were drawing with. 
Your entire body was shaking from your leg, causing the picture you were drawing to be scratchy, which, maybe that’s how you wanted it to be. “Why is she shaking so much?” Matt mumbled against Clare’s hand; their eyes fixed harshly on you as they just watched. Watch their best friend unravel before their eyes, watch her get frustrated at the drawing in pen on a napkin, watch her groan in frustration and let your head fall back on the table. 
Clare let go of Matt’s mouth slowly and reached over the table to grab your arm, moving slowly to not scare you. As her hand grabbed onto you, she realized how much you were letting your leg bounce, she could feel it through your body, making her own arm gently shake. You didn’t respond right away to her hand, leading her to rub her thumb up and down your arm and giving you a gentle squeeze. “Y/N?” 
In the six years of knowing you for Clare, she had been there for your lowest and highest, she had seen you through late night anxiety, posttest highs, first time putting your art up for others to see. She hadn’t been there for everything, but she had been there for enough to help you through the rough times. Clare looked at you, just waiting for you to lift your head up. 
“Y/N, look at me.” Whether listening to her or not, you did lift your head up and met her eyes. “Are you okay?” there was no doubt that her words were filled with earnest worry, you could tell that and that she was worried about you, along with Matt who you also had you fixed in his eyes. 
The quiet moment was shattered as the school bell screamed that there was four minutes for you to get to your next class. You followed the crowd around your friend group in packing up your pencil case and collecting your trash to toss while walking by the trash can. “Yeah, just frustrated at this drawing I can’t figure out.” And with that you walked out of the cafeteria and towards the one place that could calm you down, with Matt and Clare following close behind you until they were side by side with you. 
They dropped your lunchtime behavior and Matt quickly filled the silence with his complaining about his Statistics teacher giving him homework to do over this next weekend after they just turned in a big packet not days ago. Clare filled in how her AP Chemistry teacher totally screwed her over with the test today and how he told the class that there would be no Nuclear Chemistry on the exam and yet two of the math twelve point questions were all nuclear that she couldn’t bullshit her way through and just did random math to get some sort of partial credit. 
And you listened, adding in your thoughts here and there, stating how it was unfair to add homework after just finishing one, how shitty of a teacher it was to go against his word on what was gonna be on the test. The trio of you sat down in the art class you all have together with your respective easels in front of all of you with paints also at the ready on the table next to the canvas. 
Class began, with your teacher talking about your assignment for the day, (what kind of inspiration was something you see every day?) and letting you go free and let your artistry be free. And this was when you felt something from the back of your head that you had been wrestling with all, maybe you could get this off your mind officially and be able to think of anything else other than this random nose. 
It’s honestly stupid to be banging your head over something as simple as a nose, but this was driving you insane. Honestly batshit insane because usually you thought of something and you moved quickly to draw it since your brain was already working on some details that you needed the basic features to draw first. 
And yet today was the day that you could finally say a human nose took the best of you. Matt worked on another Pokémon, last week you laughed to yourself as he got more and more excited with the orange and reds in his Charmander drawing. This week, yellow and blacks seemed to be the color he was reaching for; this will be interesting to watch from behind him. And Clare pulled out a polaroid picture from her backpack and taped it to the upper corner of the canvas, showing you the still shot of the main road running through downtown. 
You also began your own work, grabbing hold of your pencil before reaching for the easel and you let your hand draw instinctively. You started with the structure of the face, a face you couldn’t think of but felt the need to draw a face structure; maybe this face structure would help you through the nose and drawing the rest of the face may be able to get you done with this face.
Faces and portraits weren’t your forte, they weren’t what you went for. You enjoyed drawing abstract pieces, things that spoke to you, because painting people wasn’t what you wanted others to see, you wanted to paint things that meant something to you, that could mean something to others if they saw your artwork. Art for you was emotion, drawing from the human soul, passion, and you felt like you couldn’t do that by painting someone’s face onto a canvas. 
And all this nose was doing for you was driving you insane and getting your angrier by the second. This wasn’t something you felt comfortable just throwing paint at; penciling was stupid in your mind because this puts a lot of stress on the artist to be perfect, to not allow changes to be made midway through the project. So why were you penciling?
With a frustrated groan, you tossed the pencil onto the table next to you and stared at the white board in front of you, the blank one with some pencil scratches through the middle. Looking around the edge of your own canvas, you took a look at Matt and Clare, seeing them both working away at their own respective paintings, the orange and yellow of Charizard and the browns and reds of the town picture Clare was replicating. 
Your eyes went back over to Matt, watching his face scrunch up in focus as he worked on getting the roaring face of the dinosaur looking creature just right, and his nose was all wrinkled as he dipped the brush back into the paint he was using. His nose.
“Matt.” The ginger turned to you, revealing that he had a second paint brush between his teeth, looking at you with a blocked ‘huh?’ “Can you just sit there for a second, I need to draw something really quick.”
His eyes brows perked up as you picked up one of your smaller tipped paint brushes and proceeded in dipping into the black and looked to Matt’s nose for inspiration as to how to begin to shape the nose. “Are you painting me like one of your French girls? Ow! What the hell was that for?” His head changed directions as he turned to glare at Clare who just chucked a paint brush straight at his head. 
“That’s for-” 
“Mr. Schaefer, don’t make me call your father down here for spouting profanity.” The art teacher called from the front of the classroom without looking up from her grading papers. 
Matt muttered to himself as he turned around and rubbed the spot he was hit in the back of the head. “What do you need, Y/N?”
“I just need you to sit there so I can draw your nose.” Without looking at him too much, you quickly drew the shape of his nose, noting the subtle differences between Matt’s and whatever nose you keep thinking about. Things you could change when you moved on to shading and coloring the skin tone around the nose and over the black, a color you didn’t like to use for line work made things too neat. Shading differentiates the shadows from the highlights and the normal skin tone, there was no reason for you to use black to do this.
Matt made some comments about the weird request and started bragging to Clare about how his nose was ‘Y/N painting worthy’. The two of them began bickering about their noses and which ones of them had a better looking one, but you left them to bicker as you pulled pink and yellow together, pulling a little white and red into play as you mixed a skin tonish color together. Or, at least you think it looked kinda like skin tone, it wasn’t exact, but you figured it would do. 
The rest of the period, you worked hard to get this nose right, shading here and there, adding brown to the skin tone shade you make it seamlessly flow together with a speck of white to the tip of the nose. Overall, it was a pretty good-looking nose.
So why did you still feel bugged about this? You finished the painting that you had in your mind, but why didn’t you feel the accomplishment of finishing one of your paintings? There was always a sense of greatness that you feel when completing a project, and it wasn’t here. You felt nowhere near close enough to feeling that. 
The period bell rang, pulling you out of your mind and frustration as you were forced to work on it tomorrow, hopefully you can get whatever your mind is stuck on. Breaking down your easel, you put your paint and everything away before meeting Matt and Clare outside the door. “How’d my nose picture go, Y/N? I may wanna see that.”
The three of you chuckled on your way out the door, happily in your own world as you passed your sister on the way down the hall. Nancy didn’t bother giving you a glance as she smiled at her boyfriend walking over to her. “Hey babe.” She giggled as he reached down and pressed a quick peck to her lips before they walked off to her next class. 
“Hey, beautiful, how was your chem test?”
“Well I would have had time to study more of my nuclear notes had someone not been interrupting me.” She fluttered her eyes at him before bouncing into explaining how she thinks she got at least a 91% based upon how many questions she thinks she got wrong. Steve Harrington chuckled at her angry comments on her teacher and told him that she can’t be anywhere near him when AP study time comes around. 
“Babe, I know every way of sneaking into your room. I’ll always be there for you, for moral support or for a distraction. Besides, you don’t have to start studying until later next week, so relax.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. 
Nancy scoffed and looked up at him through her thick lashes. “And I don’t have time to not stud, Steve, I need to keep up.” His face visibly dropped at the mention of it already being that time of year. “Hey, I promise I’ll see you every day.” He commented on how he would hope so and the two of them made a run for their next classes as the bell was about to ring. 
-----
Through the drive home, from the passenger seat of your sister’s car, you had your sketchbook on your lap with a pencil lazily being pushed and pulled across the paper in no specific way right now. You hated pencil, as seen with the nose painting, but it was still a basic art form that helps you start on something, getting an idea for what to doodle possibly as a full piece or just something to do in an evening. 
Horribly so, after a few pencil strokes, you noticed something come forth in the picture. “Damnit.” You curse under your breath and shut the book before sliding it into your backpack. 
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Nancy asked as she continued driving the three of you home, with Mike in the backseat doing some math homework he should have done this morning. 
Glancing at her, you knew she wasn’t interested in why you were frustrated yet again, a mutual understanding the two of you had as she would often talk about Steve and her school work on the way home while you just let her rattle on. She was just sick of your groaning next to her, no doubt. “Not that you care but a drawing has been bugging me all day.” She hummed in response, proving your point and how she wasn’t listening. 
“Hey Y/N?” Mike chirped up from the back of the car as he leaned forward to perch his head onto the middle seat between you and Nancy. “Can you draw me a picture of my paladin if I describe him to you?” 
A smile grew on your face. “Sure, thing bud. Can I do it tomorrow?” He nodded with a big grin on his face as he leaned back into his seat as Nancy pulled into the driveway and parked next to your father’s car. 
“You’re the best, Y/N!” Your little brother called out as he pedaled away on his bike, also screaming about how he would be back before dark from...Dustin’s house? You couldn’t hear him at the point of where he was turning out of the driveway. That kid brought a larger smile to your face as you made your way into the house with Nancy close behind you. 
“Y/N? Is that you?” Not even two steps into the house and your mother was calling you for helping in chores. 
Following the voice of your mother, you found her in the kitchen with Holly on her hip and working over the stove at what you can assume to be dinner for tonight. “What do ya need mom?” 
“Take Holly while I finish dinner. Oh, Nancy, how was your test?” Your baby sister was passed on to you while your older sister sat with your mom and talked about her day. 
You looked down at Holly and filled your cheeks with air to make your face appear to be a frog as you walked the two of you out of the kitchen. “Come on, Ms. Holly, should we go paint a picture for mom and daddy?” 
“Yeah!” Holly cheered at you mentioning her being able to play with paint. Your mom may have had a good grip on Nancy and made sure she had her bright future ahead and she kept her sweet baby Holly close, but Holly ran to you every time. You “tricked” Holly into liking you because you had paints and paper she could color on and give her arts to different peoples of the family. 
The two of you make your way up to your room as you asked her about her day and she told you about how in preschool, Danny Cincade was pulling her pigtails during lunch and he wouldn’t stop until one of the teachers saw him do that to her. “Well, next time he does that to you, tell him that it hurts your hair and it hurts your feelings. If he doesn’t listen to you…” You paused before thinking about what you were going to say next as you set her down in the chair at your desk and pulled the paper out for her to begin her project on. “Well I will say that you decide what you should do when he’s pulling your hair, whether that’s pull his hair or call him a mean name like he’s a poop head, then I say you can make that choice, Holly-bell. But make sure you ask him to stop.”
Your little sister gave a surprising amount of thought to this before she nodded. “Can I have paint now? I wanna draw daddy a big and spiky porkipine!” 
You did a “surprised” gasp. “A porcupine? Now why would you want to give dad a porcupine picture?”
“Cause he was extra spikey today with his hair, and he was grumpy today when he drives me to school.” Holly grabbed one of your old paint brushes you no longer used and dipped it heavily into the brown paint that you pulled out for her before splattering it on the paper in front of her. You loved watching her paint, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, her little tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth while her nose scrunched up in total concentration at her little piece of art she wanted to work on. 
It was amazing to see, truly it was, to see someone so enthralled in their own work that they have no other cares in the world besides what is in front of her. Maybe that’s how you looked to the outside world. Because that’s how you feel when you paint, just you, your brush in the paint, the colors, and your imagination; that’s honestly all you needed for yourself to feel what you created. 
You smiled to yourself while you grabbed hold of your own art supplies and set the tripod easel in its usual spot, at this point the three legs having their own divets in the carpet from where it spends its time. Staring at the canvas, you thought to yourself for a few minutes of where you should continue going; on the canvas was a dark red background overall with a much lighter center that was meant to draw you in closer, get a good look at everything. 
In the middle sat a heart, not one that any five-year-old could draw, but an anatomical heart, you had the shape down and blank canvas towards the main junctions of the heart, with various plans of flowers in your head to put on top and within the heart. 
A heart is the garden of the body, where everything is felt, consoled, thought through. The brain is the rudder of the body, but the heart is its center, the guiding force, the heart stops the brain from going into autopilot and gives you something to do and work for. The heart harbors so many emotions that flourish and grow into beautiful flowers, flowers you were working on painting right here. Flowers you wanted others to see and appreciate. But the flowers would have to wait because you needed to work on the soil of the flowers right now and finish shading in the features of the heart and its musculature. 
 “Y/N!” You had barely started mixing paints when you heard your mother call your name. “Holly! It’s time for dinner!” A sigh mixed with a groan from your desk. 
“But I’m almost finished.” Holly whined, her slouched shoulders giving away her sadness and wanton to finish the rest of the painting. “I just need to finish daddy’s spikes.”
Stepping over to her, you looked over her shoulder and felt her smile come back onto your face at the sight in front of you. “You can finish painting, Holly-bell. Mommy and them can wait a few moments.” And she went back to painting, with a quickness behind her paintbrush while you stood over her, waiting for the inevitable second call to be heard. 
She was almost done. “Y/N. Get down here and eat.” And there it was, with your mother doing her normal drawing out the last word to warn you she was not in a playing mood tonight. 
“One second, mom!” You called down the stairs before looking at your little sister again. “Hurry it on up, Holly.” 
“I’m almost there. Just two more spikes.” You followed her paint brush, noting more than two strokes as she worked to finish up. “Done!” 
“Y/N Wheeler, get down here, now!”
You picked Holly up while she gingerly held the painting so that no one smudged it up and set her on your hip. “And that means that mommy is hungry, so we better get going, little miss Holly-bell.” The pair of you exited your bedroom and headed down stairs, where you whisper to Holly to be ready to fight mommy’s angry wrath, leaving her giggling as you set her down at her spot at the table next to your father. 
Dinner was uneventful, it was meatloaf night so the group of you naturally began arguing how ketchup was a necessity for topping off your dinner. Currently it was only you and Mike fighting hard for ketchup while the rest of your family was arguing for either no topping or barbeque sauce, but no one else understood what you meant when you said that it made the meatloaf so much better. 
-----
You found yourself standing in front of your work, only an hour or so after dinner had ended, and Holly just came in to tell you goodnight and that ‘daddy really liked his porcupine. Now that her painting for the day was done, you could relax and do your own work for the day on your work you commissioned yourself to do a little over a week ago. Tonight, you wanted to finally work on getting the flowers painted and going in on details around the actual heart itself, showing the roots of the flowers making their way down the face of the heart. 
And that is what you did for the next hour or so of your night, dancing to your music, mixing paints, and applying layers of the colors onto the canvas, covering what little white was left and finally felt accomplished that everything was covered even if there was at least another week's worth of painting to go, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t continue working at it and making the sweet ending ever closer. 
However, you did need to wait a few more minutes before adding more touches since paint is not an instantaneous drier, thank God you didn’t ever find joy in oil painting, you would have gone mad trying to wait for that to dry enough for you to move on to the next piece of work. So, while waiting, you saw the clock and decided that it was time to switch into your pajamas and get comfy. 
From across the hall, you heard the shower start up and figured that Nancy was in for her shower, since Mike was a morning showerer type of person and your parents had their own bathroom, Nancy was the only person you could think of to be showering right now. Your pants had already been switched out with pajama bottoms and you were tugging your shirt off when you heard something thump behind you. Turning around with the enlarged sleep shirt in your hands as you worked on flipping it right side out when you made eye contact with someone in your room.
“Shit!” The word left your mouth before you could think of anything other than use the shirt to cover yourself up. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
Harrington stood in front of you with wide eyes. “Give a guy warning next time you undress, not that I’m complaining, but I am dating your sister and all so...” He gave a little shrug of the shoulder before you huffed and threw the shirt you were holding at him in a lump.
The cloth didn’t do much when it hit his head except giving him full access to seeing you in only a pair of pants and your bra. “Why the hell are you in my room?”
“You’re the one who gave me permission to use your room to sneak into Nancy’s.” Harrington said as matter-of-factly as he could while tossing the shirt back at you, which you gladly took and threw over your head. 
“We need to work on the timing then. You can come in when…” Looking around the room, you saw a stuffed ladybug that had been sitting on the top shelf of your dresser for ages now. “When this bug is in the window, feel free to come in. Nothing before dinner here otherwise you’ll be way too early, and my parents might see you.” You slammed the stuffed bug down before walking back over to your paint corner and staring at the canvas. Now that he was in the room, you didn’t want to deal with him or anything. 
“Thanks, I’ll just head over to Nancy’s room now.” You hummed, not really listening until you saw him out of the corner of your eye, until you heard the shower going.
“Wait!” Leaping forward, you grabbed his wrist and stopped him from opening the door. “She’s in the shower, you can’t go in her room.”
“Showering? I’ll just join her.” At the mention of that, you looked over at him in disgust and shuddered at the thought. “What? Never seen a guy shower before?” When you didn’t answer him right away, Harrington stepped away from your door and came closer to you, a cocky little grin in his face when he came into view. “Have you ever seen...a guy naked before?” 
You tried so hard to cover the blush on your face as you tried working out an excuse. “Of course, I have, I’m not a person who lives under a rock. I’ve seen a guy before.” 
“No, no, no. I didn’t ask that. I asked if you have ever seen a guy naked. As in have you ever slept with a guy?” No response. “Oh ho ho. This is very interesting. You are more a virgin than I thought you were.”
“Shut up.” You growled and shoved him out of your face, moving to grab onto your brush and palette and made a dark line on the piece of pink flesh on the heart. The dark worked as a shadow you were gonna use to emphasize the green that would be used in the next layer, making it look like the roots would be interwoven into the flesh of the heart. 
Harrington chuckled as he walked over to your bed and let himself fall backwards into your bed. You didn’t turn around and worked on pulling more life from the heart using small strokes that made them less noticeable. 
Up close you could see all of the colors and of course you could see the colors, but even with just the base layers down, you could feel pride bubbling inside of you as you concentrated on keeping your hand steady. “Is this yours?” A voice spoke softly behind you, causing you to jump and a streak of green crossed the right ventricle and cutting through a flower. 
A noise of annoyance left your mouth and you let your head fall forward with your brush dropping onto the table next to you. Turning, you saw Harrington hanging over your shoulder with his eyes fixated on what was in front of him. “Yes, Harrington. This is mine.” With a heavy sigh you resigned yourself for the night, not too satisfied with your progress. But keeping a certain guest in your room wasn’t helping you. 
Nancy get out of the shower please.
“That’s amazing.” For the second time that night, Harrington caused you to blush. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.” He reaches his hand out to touch it when you grabbed his wrist and pushed it away. 
“It’s still wet.” Your words weren’t meant to be harsh, but he didn’t seem to notice as he slowly nodded his head while keeping his eyes fixated on the painting. Noticing that he seemed to enjoy your painting, you pulled the brush back out and dipped it back into the pink. “You can watch if you would like.” You mentioned quietly while keeping your eyes on what you were doing and your back turned to Harrington as he sat back down on the bed.
The moment was kind of serene, odd honestly was the best word, odd to have someone watching you, something you checked every few moments to see if you could ease the tension in your shoulders but he still sat there watching. You’ve had Clare and Matt in the room with you while you paint, but neither of them ever went out of their way to watch your every move and twist of the brush. Even if you were in your environment of comfort and what you wanted to be doing, you didn’t know how you felt about this. 
Next door, you finally heard your sister’s door close, signally to you that she was out of the shower, and knowing her, she was already dressed and relaxing on her bed. “You...can climb through to her window now. Or you can go through the hall if you really want to.” Turning slightly, you didn’t look at him other than to see him still watching you before walking over to your backpack and retrieving your sketchbook from it along with some pencils and sat down on your bed, tucking your feet under your body.
Nodding, Steve stood up and thought for a second. “I think I’ll go through the window for now, since Nancy doesn’t know about me coming through here.” You parroted that that was a good idea while you opened your sketchbook and stared at it rather than at Harrington as he climbed his way through the window next to Nancy and left you alone again. 
Sighing in relief, you found peace again and let your pencil glide across the paper. The piece didn’t last if you hoped it would as you quickly realized what was forming. “Shit, not again.” The nose was back. 
Thinking about it, you didn’t really want to go back to our painting and decided just to deal with the damn nose...again. Until you eventually dozed off, you drew this nose over and over again, working this time only with shading and line work as you took different angles and lighting and perfecting this nose if you could say so. 
This nose haunted you until you slipped into your dreams.
-----
Today felt like any other day, started out the same, kept going the same, even lunch was the same, with Matt and Clare arguing and with a new habit that seemed to be forming you bent over your sketchbook while continuing to draw a part of the body. However, you think you out nosed yourself last night, since you had three pages full of this nose. That didn’t stop you from watching as your paper quickly filled with the form of human lips. 
“Oh, does Y/N over here want to practice kissing with these lips?” Matt chuckled to himself when he stood up and looked over the top of your easel. “If you really wanted someone to kiss, you coulda just asked, Y/N.” 
Clare hopped over to your side of the painting, leaving her own for a second to see what exactly Matt was teasing you about. “Matt, as if any girl would want to kiss you.” 
“Cause you keep stealing all the girls.” He winked at her as a rosy blush traveled up her neck before he turned his attention back to you. “Uh, Y/N, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you know that the nose is usually not that close to the mouth, right? Not like right underneath it?” 
Matt did point out the simple feature that you had all the knowledge that you were doing. You don’t know what it was, but you just wanted to put the lips there. You didn’t know why, but it was the same reason that led you to agonizing over a nose and a pair of lips these past couple of days. Just to see what happens. Besides there is no perfect face who’s to say this isn’t how this face looks. 
“That’s not where the mouth goes.”
“Picasso didn’t follow the lines of society so there’s no reason I have to.” You smiled up at him as you worked more pink into the lips without making it look like the lips had lipstick on. “Besides, I can just...see them there. This is my painting not yours.” Matt gives you a quiet ‘whoa’ as he thinks on what you just said while Clare congratulates you on managing to break your best friend’s mind and gives her a small time of quiet to finish her own piece of work before the bell rings in the next couple of minutes. 
Not much silence followed for you when you heard the intercom system activate overhead. “Y/N Wheeler, please report to the front office. Y/N Wheeler to the front office.” Everyone’s head in the room turned to look at you, giving you a look as you slowly stood up, a dark blush running over your face as you quickly as quietly as possible walked out the door and following the hallway to the front office. 
In your three years at this school, never had you been called to the front office, and seeing your mother there made you nervous to your stomach. “Mom?” You quietly called her name as you entered the main office and saw her standing there, waiting for you. Looking at her, you knew this wasn’t a happy calling, something confirmed by both her stern look on her face and seeing a shy looking Holly standing behind her leg. 
“Y/N, so nice to see you. I’m taking you home.” Her smile looked friendly to any other bystander, but that smile had been shown to you plenty of times when you had to explain your grades, or where you were later at night. This smile meant she was here to deal with business, and you were about to be interrogated until wanting to curl up in bed and just die. 
Your mind raced as to why this was happening. Nancy wasn’t here, neither was Mike, so this was only you. Get out. Get out. Run. Get away. You tried figuring out what to do, how to get out of this and the only thing you could think to do was sputter out “Bu-but I need my backpack.” Trying to get away from here, that’s all you could think about. 
“Nancy will get your stuff. Now let’s go. Holly still needs to eat lunch and we need to get home, don’t we Holly?” The youngest Wheeler looked up at your mom and gave a small nod, still not moving out from behind her leg. 
“I...but mom-” You spoke, but she interrupted.
“Y/N Wheeler, now.” This shut you down, her almost growl and the definite glare she sent at you gave you the opportunity to only respond with a quiet yes ma’am as you followed her out the door.
Matt had told you that being pulled from school early was always a bragging right as it meant skipping classes for the rest of the day. This wasn’t exciting and something you were relishing and going to tell your friends about. You feared what your mother’s temper would say. She never hurt you not physically, but she didn’t hold back with her words. 
The car ride back home was absolute hell. Not a word was spoken, even Holly was silent during the ride. You noted how you were riding in your dad’s car, given your family only had two cars and Nancy currently had one at home. Your dad would be home. Maybe he would help you in keeping your mom calm. 
“Um, mom?” You asked, trying to alleviate the tension but she wasn’t having any of it.
“Don’t. Say anything until we get home.” Shrinking into the seat, all you can think of doing was melting away, jumping out of the car. Because you have never seen your mother so quiet, she was so quiet that she was lethal; this happened before with our dad, he had done something when you were younger and your mother quietly called your father upstairs to their room before you heard her speaking. 
Your mother wasn't screaming, she was a woman who cut down her opponents with her words. Her words were sharper than any weapon, any sword, and that’s what scared you because you were at the receiving end of her words.
And make you wait she did. Holly, your mother, and you walked into the house, completely quiet without Mike downstairs with his friends and Nancy upstairs talking with her friends or Harrington on the phone. And silence made you uncomfortable. 
You followed your mom to the kitchen where she rounded the island and planted her hands firmly on the tile countertop. “I got a call from Holly’s school today.” This came out of nowhere, but you couldn’t move or do anything other than stand under your mother’s stare. Holly was sitting at the table with a sandwich in her hand and happily eating her lunch. 
Her nails began to tap rhythmically on the countertop. “Her teacher told me that she pushed a little boy off the playground today. I get to the school and they tell me the same thing, and here I am thinking, my sweet little Holly? Why would she do that? Where would she get an idea like that? So, I ask her this exact question. Do you know what she tells me, Y/N?” 
The pit in your stomach was a boulder now, you understood what was going on. And your mother wasn’t going to be happy with what you had to say. Slowly you nodded your head, giving her a response with what you knew. “Holly, your little sister Holly, told me that you, her older sister, told her to push that boy off the playset.” Her voice had stayed very level, but her eyes grew Angier and fiery with every word this mother dragon blew from her mouth. 
“Mom, I didn’t tell her to push him. She told me he was pulling-” She didn’t let you finish as she slammed her hand down on the counter, causing you to flinch and take a step back. 
“You don’t get to justify what you did. You aren’t the one who has to call this little boy’s mother and tell him why your sister pushed him. You aren’t the one who has to tell all her friends that my high school daughter is rebelling against me so much that she is trying to get her little sister in trouble. You, Y/N, are the one that did this, and I have to deal with the consequences of what you’ve done.” Her words rolled off her tongue and stung you, each and everyone. 
“But mom, I didn’t mean for that. Holly told ne-” 
“Don’t turn this on your sister because you don’t want to get in trouble. I am tired of your behavior recently, Y/N. I am not dealing with this anymore, where is your sketchbook, I’m taking it away from you until I deem it okay for you to get this back.” As she spoke, your heart rate elevated and you began to freak out.
“What? Wait no mom no! It’s a week until the art show! What am I supposed to do for the next week?!” 
You could feel our eyes widening as you gestured around the counter, trying to argue with her. Your mom doesn’t do well with people arguing with her. “You can spend time with your family, Y/N. Not lock yourself in your room all day.”
“Then make Nancy do that too! Don’t single me out, mom!” 
“Don’t bring your sister into this. Just because you are jealous of her doesn’t mean you can-”
“No mom! I’m not jealous of Nancy! You pretend in your mind that we are the same person, I just happen to be the less pretty, less academically amazing, less perfect daughter! That is not my fault that you put these stupid expectations on me that I never asked for! You can’t single me out in this family just because they are the least successful of your children! That is not fair!” 
At this point it was a screaming match between the two of you, words you were holding back were starting to come out of your mouth, but it was like you were drunk and had no filter and no idea when to stop but it was all coming out. Your screaming attracted the attention of your father from his shower upstairs, the raised voices of two women of his household worried the man. 
Coming down the stairs, your dad looked into the kitchen and saw Holly sitting in her grilled cheese with her sandwich half eaten while watching you and your mother. Looking further into the kitchen, he found the source of the shouting and quickly worked on diffusing his wife and daughter from murdering each other. “Whoa! Karen, Y/N, what is going on? You two need to calm down.”
“Stay out of this, Ted. Y/N and I are talking.” Your mom growled the last part of that phrase out without breaking eye contact with you. Ted Wheeler was looking between the two of you, he had obviously seen his wife blow up like this, but he had never seen you feed into your mother’s rage. He didn’t know which one had started and he didn’t know which “side” to take, because either way it would not work out well. 
“Karen.” He took his wife’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Stop.” He stood his ground, shocking his daughter and wife alike. “Y/N go up to your room. Your mother and I will talk about this.” 
“Ted Wheeler.”
“Yes dear?” Your father responded to your mom’s anger and responded with his usual soft and neutral voice. This was your que to leave, to go hide in your room and get away from this horrible place. AS soon as you stepped in, the first thing you thought to do was hide you paint supplies. 
Your mom threatened you with taking your art away, but not if you hide it from her. Grabbing hold of your paints, you grabbed six or seven major colors, one that you can make other colors from these along with a few of our brushes. You couldn’t hide everything because your mom would figure out that not everything is there, but if you grab only a few of everything, you would be fine.
Heart pounding, pulse racing, short breaths, you worked as quietly and quickly as you could without alerting your parents of what you were doing.
Footsteps made their way up the stairs, warning you that someone was about to walk into the room. Panicking, you shoved the bucket of few paint supplies up into a corner of your closet and you sat down at the edge of your bed, settling yourself down before your bedroom door opened and your dad stepped in, causing you to look over at him with a sad look on your face. “How mad is she?” You were afraid to ask.
“Well, you said some pretty choice words to your mother, Y/N. So pretty mad.” Groaning, you hid your face in your hands. “She was threatening just to lock you in your room with nothing in here but your bed...but I was able to calm her down enough to just keep you in your room except for meals.” 
“So, no art supplies?” He nodded at your question, to which you replied with a sigh. “How long?” 
Sitting down next to you, you dad bumped your shoulder with a soft smile on his face. “I told her we can split the idea and make you suffer until Sunday night rolled around.” Sunday was like three days away. That meant those days you didn’t get to work on any of your projects that you had. “Don’t worry, squirt. You can survive this.” The two of you sat together on the bed for a little while longer before he finally stood up and helped you grab your pencils and paints and markers as well as a small stab with taking your work in progress heart away. 
Looking at the room now, you felt emptier than the room, there was nothing in the room and that left you feel nothing inside. You saved some of your paints, but without even just the easel in the corner of your room it’s so empty and sad to look at your room. The walls had very few pictures on them, especially the one next to your window that was next to your sister’s room. Staring at the blank wall made your blood boil, boil so much that you blindly grabbed a paintbrush and stepped up to the wall as a butcher walked towards a new body of meat ready to be sectioned off into eatable pieces. Your brush worked as nimble as any scalpel, working with speed at the wall, your mind wasn’t thinking, your body was moving on its own at this point. 
And there was no stopping it.
-----
It was only Saturday afternoon and you had two small panic attacks just thinking about the art show coming up. Just because opening night was in like two weeks doesn’t mean that you could turn it in the night the show opened, everything was due this Tuesday, completed, dry and everything. Would you be able to do that by then? Your art teacher had reached out to you and asked you to enter a piece, making you now feeling obligated to enter something. And that something happened to be locked in your parent’s room for the weekend. 
Usually when you were antsy or nervous, you would draw or paint, and here you were still. A few colors and pencils but no paper. And lined paper did not agree with you doodling style of drawing erasing and then redrawing, you wore simple paper out too easily. You needed something heavier. And you couldn’t go at the walls again like last night; waking up this morning, you were shocked to see just what you did, quickly pushing your curtains around to hide that part of the wall, leaving your window open to let natural light fill the room you would be spending the next couple of days isolated to. 
A light knock at the door, causing you to perk up to thinking hopefully your dad would come in and tell you that your mother slept well, and she was giving you back all your stuff. Not that you were upset or angry at your brother when he walked in, but when you looked at the dark headed boy who stuck half his body through the door, your hope fell away. “Hey Mikey, what’s up buddy?” You gestured him to come fully into the room with you where he plopped down into your desk chair across from your bed. 
“Well, um, I wanted to know if you...you could still draw my DnD character? I was just figuring that since you don’t have your big piece to work on right now and I just wanted to see if you could do it now because you’re not busy and you said you would do it in the car a few days ago and I just think you could do a really cool job drawing him and it would be great and my friends might also want you to draw their too and that’s all up to you but if you could at least do mine that would be great and you would be an amazing sister.” His words jumbled out of his in one mess, something he does whenever he gets nervous or excited about something.
You let him ramble a bit through what he wanted, his excitement bringing a smile to your face as you saw just how much he wanted this done, even if he stumbled over his request. He had nothing to worry about in the world. Mike sat there after his long request, finally giving your room to speak. “You done talking, Mike?” You quipped, not meaning it in a mean way as you watch him cough for air. “Of course, I’ll do it for you, buddy. Can I just request something from ya?” His head nodded up and down, his eyes sparkling with excitement at your acceptance. “Get me some paper I can draw on.” He was already out the door when you said paper.
Chuckling to yourself, you went over to your closet and grabbed hold of the box of pencils you kept just in case; staring down at the bright colored Crayola that you weren’t favoring to use, but, it was for your brother and you loved Mikey enough to use these. You heard him scrambling back up the stairs before Mike rushed into your room, gasping for air as he held out some paper, he grabbed from the printer downstairs to you. You took the paper from him and laid it on top of one of your schoolbooks.
Pencils out next to you, paper at the ready, a semi sturdy workspace, you were ready. “Alright, Mike, what does this paladin of yours look like?” 
The two of you sat there for a long period of time, which honestly slipped away from you as you did your best to draw a person, since you still haven’t gotten any better at it since your fascination with the nose and lips, but you still did your best as he animatedly told you about how Elias the Esteemed stood, how he was a lawful good paladin who only did what was just even when the other characters in the party would be annoyed by his upright behaviors. 
While you were drawing, you asked him to tell you stories about his friends adventures, and he so happily did; he told you about how they spent almost twelve hours fighting to save a princess and the others thought his character was being stupid for trusting an evil goblin when a fairy offered to help them until it turned out that the fairy was evil and was the one trying to kill the princess to get enteral youth. Just from watching your little brother speak, you could tell that he absolutely adores what he and his friends do every weekend. 
There was something that just brought joy to you when you saw someone radiate passion about something they love. And you saw this in your little brother as he told you story upon story of the renegades his friend group was. 
Passion speaks louder than simple descriptions or words. These stories gave an idea of how the paladin held himself, why he swung left handed and not right, stupid little things than made you draw Mike’s character in such a way that to you, it would make him feel more alive and ready to jump off the page, ready to fight for the sake of any princess in need. 
It was getting near dinner time when you finished, though you had been done for a bit of time, instead keeping this time to yourself. In this family, quality time was few and far between, and being with your brother brought happiness to your...rough weekend. And it was quickly shattered into pieces when you heard the call for dinner. Mike quickly stopped talking and looked towards your door before glancing back at you.
“Let’s get going then, Sir Eliad the Esteemed. Let us go feast after this glorious victory.” You turned the portrait over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as the two of you headed down the stairs to join the rest of your family. 
You kept to yourself for the rest of the evening, but really it was the rest of your family that didn’t come to see you. Your mother and you weren’t really on speaking terms, Holly wasn’t allowed near you after you “told her to push a boy off the playground”, and your father was passed out in front of the TV. Nancy had asked your mom if she could run up to the store and buy some ice cream, leaving the whole upper level of the house to yourself and there was nothing for you to do with it all. 
So here you were again, staring at your ceiling as you twirled one of the pencils you still had out around your finger in complete and utter boredom. How could anyone live like this? You have been left alone with yourself and your thoughts for a full day and you were already ready to kill yourself. Looking around, you found yourself staring at the small stuffed ladybug sitting in your window, something to which you looked at curiously. 
It was the weekend and you hadn’t seen Steve try and climb through your weekend since Thursday evening. Granted it was only a day ago, but you were curious as to why your sister and her boyfriend didn’t take this time to be theirs and spend time together. Hmm. At least he wasn’t walking in while you were changing into your pajamas again. 
Speaking of pajamas, might as well get them on since you obviously weren’t going to be going anywhere tonight that would require proper clothing, so you pulled your pants off from the day and pulled on your pajamas bottoms before tugging your shirt off and over your head. 
“Wheeler, we might wanna consider buying ladder.” A voice spoke up behind you, cause you to scream and drop the shirt you were holding onto the ground before turning around. 
“What the hell, Harrington?!” You shouted at him, thanking the lord that you were alone on this level otherwise your mother would have stormed in here before you could say the boy’s name.
The brunette looked at you with a look on his face that you couldn’t read but you could have sworn you saw a quick blush appear on his cheeks before you remembered that you were in fact putting on your pajamas and he yet again came barging in on you. “Okay, this was your fault. I checked and the ladybug is there, so I thought I could come in.” 
You stumbled over a few words before you gave up ad scoffed at him before putting your shirt over your head. “I thought you had just died because you weren’t here last night, so I assumed I was free of you sneaking into my window. Forgive me for being hopeful.”
“Aw, come on Wheeler, you know you would miss me if I just left you behind.” He smiled at you and sat down next to you on your bed, bouncing you up and down ever so slightly with his weight being added to the bed. 
You muttered to yourself as you pushed your pencils away, “You have no idea.” And there you sat, the two of you in quiet silence, where you stared out the window at the trees next to your house, fireflies were beginning to emerge, lighting up the yard.
“Did you finish that painting?” Harrington asked you, to which you replied with a hum. “Your heart and flower painting that you had over there? Did you finish it?” 
“Oh, um…” You pulled your lips between your teeth, because he had no right to really know about it, but he was asking, but why did you want to tell him? You ignored the questions and just rolled with it. “My mom...more or less grounded me for the weekend and took my stuff away from me, so I’m stuck here without anything to work on.” He gave you a look that you only responded to with a shrug.
He scoffed. “Wow, take a painter away from her painting.” Looking over, he saw your pencils tossed onto your desk. “You any good with pencils?”
“I mean yeah, paint is what I want to work with, but as long as I can put it to paper, I can use it.” When you answered his question, he nodded before he pulled something from his backpack that you didn’t notice he had until now. “What are you doing?” Your brows were quirked as you watched him bring back out a notebook. A sketchbook actually. 
Your face had a look of shock on it, bringing him to smile at you. “Calm down, Wheeler. I can see the boredness in your eyes and I have this book. Mess around with it, I’m sure as hell not using it.” Your words caught in your throat as you stared down at the notebook that was now in your lap. 
“Um...thanks, Harrington.” You stood up and grabbed the pencils you had honestly not really knowing what to do with this newly given gift. “Do you...want me to draw you anything?” You asked.
Harrington looked up at you, a look deep in thought on his face before he turned to you and asked, “I want you to draw me like a cartoon character.” Hearing this, you were surprised at his request, even voicing this confusion yourself. “You know like Fred from Scooby Doo? Draw me something like him. All attractive and suave.” He grinned up at you, his dark eyes twinkling as he waited for your answer to his request. 
“I...don’t really do animation. I’m more of an emotion led artists and this isn’t really-”
He interrupted you. “Well then I guess I’ll be having my notebook back.” He held his hand out to you, but you held the book to your own chest shaking your head. “Thought so, now get drawing, Wheeler.” You were honestly taken aback by him sitting here and demanding things from you. 
Almost stupidly, you sat down in the chair sitting in front of him and grabbed a pencil, the black one, one that you were using in his outline. Animation was more your style, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to be drawing right now, you found that drawing Harrington animatedly was easier than real life but there was still a learning curve for you. 
You drew his face in very simple lines. His jaw came down into a subtle, but he did have a square face overall, deciding to accentuate the shape of his face while adding a slight chin to make sure he didn’t have just a square for his head. His ears were pretty flush to his head, so you didn’t bother and just hid them behind his hair. 
Oh, the hair. You grabbed the brown pencil and moved to try and find a way to translate the Hairs hair onto paper and it wasn’t working that well. There is a reason Harrington was known for his long and fluffy hair, and boy was it hard to find a way to get the curls and the wisps onto the paper without making it seem like stray pencil marks. 
You needed to tell your sister to tame her boyfriend’s eyebrows because they needed help, he was a few hairs away from unibrow. One had a sort of arch with some stray hairs underneath it and the other looked like a caterpillar. So, you decided to fix them on paper, and you gave him some damn good-looking eyebrows if you do say so yourself. Moving on, you stared at his eyes, and you finally noticed that he was staring back at you just as intently as you were, only he didn’t have a reason to be watching you. Maybe it was because he was staying still for you, but his gaze was a little unnerving. So instead of wanting to put focus on the small flecks of individual colors that made of his warm brown eyes, you grabbed the brown pencil again and just quickly drew a brown blob at the center of each eye and called it that. 
His nose was in two sweet and small motions, choosing to ignore drawing the slight crook midway down his nose. It was a simple nose, given that you knew almost every turn by now after drawing it multiple times. 
Your head shot up with your eyes wide at this, the pencil in your hand had stopped as you stared at Harrington’s nose. It was there, the nose. The one you had been drawing all week. There it was. The tweak at the top of the nose, the small button at the tip, the small and light freckles that lined the bridge of his nose. They were all there in front of you and you had no clue what to do with this new information. 
It couldn’t be. Why the hell would you be drawing Harrington’s nose? There was no reason you had ever looked at him for more than five minutes total since the time he and Nancy started dating. 
But there were the lips. The lips too. They were right there. Staring at you with all the swings and curves and pink tone with reds in it that you had been trying to copy since yesterday morning. The two of them were staring right at you. The face they belonged to was sitting in front of you and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 
A hand snaps in front of your face, one of its fingers striking your nose gently. “Wheeler? You still in there?” You shook your head, clearing your brain of the fog that took you over. 
“Yeah, sorry.” Quickly pulling the sketchy book closer to your face, you hid your warm face from where he could see you and quickly drew his lips in, completely ignoring your racing mind as you drew the outline and colored in his clothes on the way down, noting his denim jacket, T-shirt and a pair of jeans. On top of a pair of sneakers that you had never really seen him not wear before. 
From the face you took time to get the feeling of Harrington into the drawing, you quickly rushed through the rest of him, producing a finished product in less than five minutes and handing it over to him. “Here you go. Sorry if it’s not like Fred enough for you, but I’m not really an animator or anything.” 
Harrington looked over the paper you handed him; his face blank as he took in everything from the sheet of paper. The anticipation in your stomach grew every second he just stared at what you produced, wanting to be affirmed in what you had done, the ever challenging part of being like you, was that you didn’t know it but you needed the affirmation of how well you did. And for some reason, especially right now. 
“Wow, Wheeler, you could open one of those street drawing stand things and have people pay you for these.” He gave you a quick smile before tucking the paper into his backpack between some of his school books. Looking at his books, you quickly remembered where you were and what he was doing here. 
“Why aren’t you with Nancy right now?” You questioned and he quickly muttered to himself. 
He fiddled with his zipper before turning back to you, fiddling didn't fit his persona. “I just assumed she was taking a shower again since you didn’t kick me out.” 
You quirked an eyebrow at his response. “If I remember last time, you were half out the door ready to join my sister. I didn’t think you needed my permission to go see your own girlfriend. Much less have sex with her if you want to.” He scoffed at your remark, you bringing a smile to his face. 
“Good to know I have Nancy’s little sister’s permission to sleep with her next door to you.” He slings his backpack back onto his back as he makes this comment. 
“Whoa whoa, I didn’t mean that wait-Harrington I didn’t mean that!” He was already out the window by the time your confused brain caught up to you. “Great, now all I’m gonna hear is them having sex.” You muttered angrily to yourself as you slammed the window closed behind him. 
Because what else would you want to hear besides your sister and her boyfriend screaming in pleasure at each other. 
Looking around the room, you saw the sketchbook sitting on your desk. The sketchbook that Harrington gave you. 
Steve Harrington. “Oh God.” You gasped out as it all fell around you. You fell back against the wall behind you, slipping down until you were seated, your brain finally caught up to you and the panic settled in. “Holy crap, holy crap. What have I done?” 
His nose. That was it. He had your nose that you had been drawing. You found the face. And you didn’t like this at all. 
You have been drawing your sister’s boyfriend's nose obsessively. And you couldn’t explain why. 
Your heart rate increased. 
Breathing became short, curt, and rapid. 
Your vision was getting a little fuzzy around the edges as you tried rapidly blinking. 
Chest was heaving, but no air was getting in.
You were having a fucking panic attack and there was no one here to help you. 
You have to remember how to breathe on your own.
How do you even breathe?
You were alone, and your body couldn’t remember how to breathe.
You were alone and you couldn’t breathe
You couldn’t alone and you were breathe.
Alothe. 
Brone.
Your panic took you over and you fell over onto your carpeted floor, passed out and afraid of what you now know. 
-----
Monday morning finally came, to your mother coming into your room and calling you awake. Last night you finally got all of your supplies back and you were doing everything you could to make up for the lost weekend you had planned to use for painting. You stayed up until 3am, until your body was shutting itself down. You had seen Harrington come through your room and go, not giving him much to talk about this time around. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted with how little time you had left. 
And when that three am mark rolled around, your brain couldn’t tell what was pink from green and you almost painted a giant line through the heart. So, you slept, for three hours your body rested and reset itself. 
And it was rudely interrupted by your mom telling you it was Monday and you had to go to school. As you got dressed, you thought through how long it would take you to finish. All the colors were on the page, no white remained thankfully, but the flowers still needed life, they needed depth so that they were not 2D. 
You could take the picture with you to school. But when would you work on it? And you wanted to keep this all a big reveal. Your teachers sure as hell wouldn’t allow you to work on it instead of their own class. 
You could stay home. But how the hell was that supposed to work? Knowing your mother, you sure couldn’t get her to allow you to stay home for a reason as stupid as a painting. 
But what if she didn’t know you were home?
An idea formed in your mind as you threw your hair up in a ponytail and walked over to your sister’s door before knocking on it. She called you in. “Y/N?” Nancy was confused when you walked in. “What do you want?”
“Nancy, I have a huge favor to ask of you. Can you please leave me here at home? I need to stay back and finish working on my painting and I don’t have enough time tonight. I promise I will do whatever you want, I will do your chores, your homework, I don’t know but please, Nancy, I really need this.” You pleased with her, throwing all your sincerity as you can into your words. 
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, her eyes darting back and forth between yours, looking for something, though you don’t really know what. “You owe me if I do this.” You gasped in relief at her words and surged forward, throwing your arms around your sister’s shoulders. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much Nancy. Oh my gosh I owe you so much right now. Thank you.” You held her tight in a hug, ignoring how she didn’t return the hug, but you were just too elated at this moment to care. “Okay, I’ll like get in the car with you and at the stop sign at the end of the road, I’ll just jump out and run home.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.” She wiggles slightly as she wants you to release her, making you let go and rush out of her room. 
You did as you said. Wished your parents goodbye after breakfast, got into the car for a short time before telling Mike to keep quiet and you ran home. 
That was the easy part. What Harrington didn’t tell you was that climbing up the wall of the house wasn’t as easy as it sounded, and you ate dirt twice before you finally made it up to your window. You thanked your past self for leaving the window open, not knowing how you would have managed it to try and get that window open from the outside. 
But you were inside now, and all you had to do for the rest of the day before your sister got back was be quieter than a mouse. And with painting, that wasn’t too hard for you: standing on your feet without moving was something you got used to. But this time, you couldn’t just tune the world out, you had to make sure that your mother didn’t walk in to find you here and not at school. 
So, you went in painting, pulling out your paint palette and container of paints, you began working. Mixing, painting, brushing, applying the paint, you stood for hours, ignoring your stomach as it called for food around lunch time. Moving only one, and that was because you dropped a paint brush and needed to step forward a little bit. The other time was when you heard your mother coming up the stairs. 
Your first urge was to scream when you heard her. It was almost like a horror movie with the murderer coming closer to the victim and the victim had nowhere to go. Where to go, what do you hide in? Would she even come in here? Of course, she would, she’s your mother! Looking around, the best you could think of with the footsteps getting slowly closer was under your bed, because you were basic and asking to be killed. 
You dove and as quietly as you could, you shoved yourself under the bed, not realizing how cramped it would be down there, it wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be but you still were able to get yourself underneath before you watched the door swing open. Her heeled feet walked in, followed closely by the vacuum behind her, which she plugged in and quickly went to work. 
All you could do was sit there, waiting, watching as the vacuum came closer, going away, closer, away. So on and so forth, but you would hear the occasional mutter from your mom about how filthy you kept this room, and how you need to put your paints away and not leave it lying out all day. From where you were lying, you could see her jostling things around above you, but nothing seemed to give away your still being home. 
Looking around the room, you took inventory of what a bug must feel like, seeing everything so big and far away. Your dresser, bookshelves, even your backpack was massive from where you were. Crap. Your eyes widened as your mother grabbed your backpack from the ground. You were supposed to have your backpack at school right now, and it was sitting on your floor for your mother to see. 
Shit shit shit shit shit! You screamed in your head with your hand clamped over your mouth as you waited for your mom to find you, catch you, and never let you see the light of day again. Something bounced off your bed. “Y/N needs to stop leaving her backpack home and start taking it with her.” Those were the last things you heard your mom say before she turned and dragged the vacuum behind her out the door, shutting it behind her before moving down the hall to your brother’s room. 
A heavy sigh left your body as you felt relief rush over you knowing that you were safe from getting caught. And with that, you pulled yourself out from under the bed, squeezing a little bit at the hips, but finding yourself free from dust. You didn’t have much more of a thought to yourself other than getting more of the painting done before you could call it a day and finally finish it all off with a quick signature at the bottom. 
A few more hours of you working passed before you heard your sister come back home. Just in time too. You had the biggest smile on your face as you painted the last brush stroke at the bottom. “Y/N Wheeler.” You were finished. Finally! Mike cried out that he was home and then promptly called how he was heading over to Dustin’s house. Opening your door, you wanted to make your way over to Nancy to thank her again, wanting to know what she wanted in return. 
Opening your door, you saw Nancy had beaten you to it and was standing outside your door. “Nancy! I just wanted to say than-” Your smile and happiness quickly went away when Nancy shoved past you, cutting you off. 
“Why was Steve asking about you?” Her question confused you, which you voiced, asking her what she was talking about. “Steve! My boyfriend! All he could do was ask me about you and why you weren’t at school and how you were enjoying your new notebook and then he went on to show me the cartoon you drew of him. When did you draw him? Why are you hanging around my boyfriend?!”
“Whoa, Nancy, I wasn’t hanging around him. I haven’t done anything. I don’t even talk to Harrington.” 
“Then why does he have this drawing?” And to prove it to you, she pulled the silly drawing out you did a few nights ago, where Harrington asked you to draw him like Fred. 
Looking at the paper, there was honestly nothing you could think of wrong with the situation. “Nancy, for like the past week, he has been using my window to sneak in and out of the house because he was almost caught by mom. I offered to let him use my room to slip through. You were busy or something like two nights ago and he was sitting in here waiting for you to finish and he told me to draw him like Fred from Scooby-Doo.” 
“He’s been sneaking through your room?! You suggested this? Y/N what the hell have you been doing with my boyfriend in my room?” Nancy was screaming at you at this point, alerting your mother that the two of you were home when she called up the stairs for you two to stop yelling. 
You were getting frustrated at this point, “Nancy! No! I haven’t been doing anything with your boyfriend! I’m not even interested in the asshole!”
“Then why did I find you drawing his face in your notebook?!” Once again trying to prove you were in the wrong, she showed you more papers, the ones from your sketchy book that were in fact of Harrington’s face that you found out the other night. 
“Where did you get those? Nancy, that's from my notebook, where did you get that?” Your failed attempt to grab the papers from her led to her getting all in your face. 
“And why were they in there?! Why! Y/N why are you hitting on my boyfriend?! Is nothing sacred for me?! All you do is walk around this house, painting, and drawing and being a goody little two shoes! You are a complete bitch Y/N! I work my ass off for my grades, to be great in school, to have an amazing boyfriend! And you are trying to steal him from me!” She kept getting louder and louder, screaming at you and stomping her feet and making more and more accusations towards you that you didn’t understand. 
“Nancy, I know how it looks but I was just-”
She walked dangerously close to your painting, her flailing arms almost hitting it right off the easel. “You were what, Y/N?” 
“Please be careful, Nancy, the paint is still wet.” Reaching out, you grazed her hand, hoping to calm her down but she ripped it away from you. 
“Oh, is this what you care about? Let me show you what you’ve done to me, Y/N. What happens if I do this?!” Before you could react, her hand flew and shot its way through the canvas, punching a huge hole into the painting you just finished not moments ago. 
“No!” You screamed in horror, staring at the hole she hit through the flowers atop and intertwined amongst the heart. Your own heart broke and your body had no idea what to do besides just scream.
Footfalls stormed up the stairs and Karen Wheeler charged into the room. “Y/N Wheeler, what are you screaming about, that is completely uncalled for!”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked to your mother for help. “Mom, Nancy she...look mom!”
“Mom! Y/N has been flirting with my boyfriend and cheating with him behind my back! And she skipped school today!” Nancy’s face had rage written all over it, nothing compared to the absolute shattered feeling you felt. 
“Mom wait no please. I-” you tried explaining, but your mother had heard enough, and she spun on you. 
“I can’t believe I ever raised a daughter like you, Y/N. I am completely disappointed in you. Steve is your sister’s boyfriend. And I’m talking to your father when he gets home about you missing school. Apologize to your sister right now.” Your mom was angry, you could tell, but you were hoping you could argue with her. “Don’t argue with me, Y/N! I guess locking you in your room isn’t enough for you to learn your lesson anymore. Your father will be hearing about this, young lady, you can be sure of that.” 
She was gone, your mother left you in the room with your sister, going downstairs and angrily muttering to herself. Looking over to your sister, she saw she was still angry on her face, with a sickening smirk on her face. “What...have I ever done to you, Nancy? All I have ever done is try to be your little sister. All I want is for my big sister to guide me, be a role model. I just want you to love me, Nancy.” Tear tracks raced their way down your face as you stared at your sister, if you could even call her that anymore. Not after what she did to what she knew you loved doing and had worked so hard on. 
“Why would I ever love the sister that made my parents split their love up?” Nancy’s voice came out as a growl and followed your mother, slamming your door behind her. 
Your body finally gave out and you fell to your knees before curling up and letting our sobs ring through the room, screaming at one point all the pain out of your chest. Your mother yelled at you again, but you didn’t listen, you kept crying at the pain in your chest, the same pain that showed through the tear in the still wet painting. 
------
“Karen, we should talk to her before we keep punishing her. She is going to hate us if we keep doing this.” Ted Wheeler was trying to talk some sense to his wife while walking up the stairs to his daughter’s room. 
“Ted, I think it’s time we discipline her my way. You have been going too easy on her these last few years and she’s fighting back. I don’t like people fighting against me, Ted.” Karen Wheeler gave her husband a look that told him to be quiet while she did the talking, he was there to be a point of authority and trick you into listening to your mother. 
Nodding, your father grabbed the door handle into your room and pushed the door open. “Y/N, sweetie. We wanted to talk to you.” The husband and wife opened the door and expected to find you sitting on your bed or standing in front of your painting that the two of them have known you have been working on endlessly lately. 
But the room was empty. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/N?” Karen took a step into the room, checking behind the door to see if you were standing there. “Y/N, I don’t want to deal with your games right now. Get out here young lady.” The woman checks under the bed, in the closet, but you weren’t in either of those places. “Ted, I don’t see-” Turning around, Karen Wheeler saw her husband standing in front of what looked to be the artwork you were working on. She stepped closer, looking around her husband's shoulder and her eyes widened when she saw what was before her.
It was a beautiful painting. The dark background may look black for one second, but when looking deeper at it, there were the light colors of white and grey in the background, creating an open ribcage around what is the centerpiece of the painting: a red heart. The heart had amazing detail, veins and fat tissue where you would suppose it would go. Green things ran along the heart as well, but it wasn’t as easy as it was before to tell that there was a bouquet of flowers emerging from the main openings of the heart because where the flowers once were was now a giant hole ripped through the canvas. 
Karen Wheeler was rarely shocked at being speechless, yet here she was with her hand pressed to her mouth in awe at what she was looking at. It was beautiful but broken. While she stared at this, Ted had gone to the door and called somebody’s name down the hall. “Is this what she has been working on?” Her words came out breathless and airy. “It’s so beautiful.”
Ted nodded as he looked around the room, waiting for who he called before something caught his eye behind the curtain that was being blown around the open window. “Did you call me, dad?” Nancy stepped into the door confused. 
“Nancy, do you know what happened to your sister’s painting?” Karen turned to her eldest daughter, her pride and joy, before her husband could, who had pushed a curtain away to see more of what he was looking at. 
Looking over, Nancy shrugged. “She deserved it. I told you mom, she was che-”
“Nancy, I’m not asking for what she did to you. Did you do this to her painting?” Nancy looked around the room, not wanting to look at her mother, but giving a slight nod. “Nancy Wheeler! You know what painting means to your sister!” 
“But mom, she doesn’t-” 
“No Nancy! You aren’t in the right here. Y/N could have hit on your boyfriend, which I want to verify with your boyfriend, but that does not give you the right to destroy what Y/N has spent weeks working on.” 
“Karen.” Ted called over to his wife. 
“Nancy Wheeler, you are in a big deal of trouble right now and I don’t want to see you. You have severely hurt your sister and I am extremely upset with you.” Nancy looked away from Karen, her face flushed with red as she left the room, not feeling too hot that she had been turned on by her parents. 
“Karen,” Ted called again, to which she finally turned back to him. “Look.”
Written on the wall, in black paint was line after line of your handwriting. “Failure. Stupid. Y/N Wheeler is useless. Not pretty like Nancy. Not smart like Mike. Not loveable like Holly. Matt is friendlier than Y/N. Clare is emotionally stable. Stupid. Failure. Shit. Y/N Wheeler is shit. The world won’t stop. Nobody here. Noone wants me. Unwanted. Unloved. No difference. No change without. Gone. She is gone. Y/N Wheeler isn’t wanted. She isn’t going to want. “
“Oh my god.” Karen gasped again, tears prickling at her eyes as she turned away, not wanting to see anymore as she looked around the room. “Y/N? Sweetheart please!” She looked at the closet again and saw your shoes were gone. Your shoes and one of your jackets were missing. “Ted. Ted! She’s gone! Y/N’s gone! Our little girl is gone, she's gone.” Her words sputtered out of her mouth as she fell into her husband’s arms, her face and cries falling into his shoulders as he led her over to where your phone sat on your desk. 
“Hawkin’s police department.” Flo’s voice asked through the phone, she sounded bored rightly so since nothing happens in this small town. 
“Flo, this is Ted Wheeler.” He held the phone to his other ear so that his wife wasn’t crying near it. “Pass me through to Chief Hopper. Our daughter is missing.”
-----
“Y/N!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N Wheeler!” 
“How many Y/N’s do you know, Lucas?” Mike looked over to his friend; the three of them had been out for the last two, maybe three hours, calling out your name, much to Dustin’s chargin when his voice started cracking and hurt from screaming. 
“Well I’m sorry I just wanted to say something other than your sister’s name.” Lucas called back to the only male child of the Wheeler family. “Mike, we’ve rode back and forth across this damn road so many times, I can count how many pedals it takes to get from one side to the other.” 
Mike ignored his friends' complaints as he kept calling out your name, hoping that as they kept doing this loop that you would call back out to him. Come running out of the woods. Just come home. “Y/N!”
Across town, your parents were looking just as hard as your little brother. Your mother had removed her heels and stockings and skirt for a pair of sleep pants your father had and some sneakers she found in your room that would fit. Never in your wildest dreams could you imagine that your mother would be trekking through the muddy, dirty woods, especially for the likes of you. “Y/N!” Your mother called out, moving the flashlight back and forth as she tried seeing any sign of you in the woods near your house. 
“Karen, sweetheart. We won’t be able to find her out here, it’s nearly midnight. It’s too dark for us to make a difference in the search.” Ted reached forward and gently grabbed his wife’s elbow, hoping he could guide her home. He had been out here with her, calling your name and looking at every possible place you could be hiding. 
Karen looked back at her husband and in the glare of the flashlight off him, he could see her eyes filled with worry, shame, frustration. “Ted, I’m the reason she is out here. And I want to be here when we find her.”
Mr. Wheeler nodded his head, tugging a little harder on her elbow before she let herself be pulled into her husband’s embrace. The two of them stood in the middle of the woods, a mile or so away from your house, holding each other as they worried for their lost daughter. “Come on, dear. I’m sure we can look a little longer. Maybe she’s just a little farther ahead.” She nodded her head at Ted and the two of them continued forward. “Y/N!”
Back at home, Nancy was sitting in the living room with Holly drawing in front of her while she went over flashcards for her AP exam coming up. “Nancy?” At hearing her name, the young girl looked up. “Where’s Y/N? I didn’t get to paint with her today.”
She scoffed. “What is with this family and Y/N? She’s not here, Holly.” The last part, Nancy spoke louder so that the youngest Wheeler would hear her. 
“Where is she? I miss her.” Holly said it so nonchalantly as she kept drawing on her little page. Nancy glowered down at the little girl before she stood up, ordering Holly to stay there and that she would be right back. Walking into the kitchen, she picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number. 
“Hello?” Her boyfriend's voice came through the receiver and she felt like she could smile for the first time since she got home that day. 
“Hey, Stevie. Wanna come over? My parents aren’t home and thought that we could get some alone time in.” She leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, getting a look to see that Holly hadn’t moved an inch. 
Steve took a second to respond. “Sure, babe why are they out of the house. They just had a date night.” 
“Oh, Y/N up and ran off and they’re off looking for her like a manic. She’ll be home soon I’m sure. It’s what she gets.” Nancy rolled her eyes at her own statement. “So, you wanna come over?”
She heard a release of breath on the other end. “God, Nancy. Your sister is missing, and you want me to come over? Please tell me you are calling me to help your family look for her.”
“Steve Harrington. What are you talking about? Steve Harrington you are my boyfriend, not my sister’s boyfriend or best friend.” Nancy growled into the phone ready to go off on the phone to her ear, but he cut her off. 
“No, Nancy. I am not someone who dates a girl who ignores her sister, who hurts her sister on a daily basis by not even looking or caring about her.” His words caught her off guard, truly they did because here it was again, her little sister coming back to claim what is originally Nancy’s. “Nancy unless you tell me this is some sick joke, I’m sorry but we are done.” 
Nancy Wheeler had nothing to say and was even more in shock when she heard the dial tone ringing in her ear. “Steve? Steve? Hello?” Nancy stood at the phone and tried ringing him back up, with no answer. In the living room, Holly hummed to herself as she continued moving her marker back and forth across the paper, so excited for mommy to get home and to give her a new painting of the family. 
“Y/N!” It had been hours since the sun had fully gone down and at least five hours since Hopper got the initial call. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in Hawkins, never has before Will went missing a couple years back. “Y/N Wheeler!” Hopper called again into the night, shining his flashlight around the exterior of the fence of Hawkins lab, trying to see if anything would connect another strange event from the Upside Down to you. 
The lab has been quiet for a while, so it didn’t connect why you would have gone missing. And it sounded like it wasn’t a missing persons case and instead was a kid running away from home. His eyes were barely hanging open at this point and he had used up his last cigarette over an hour ago, so he needed a kick to get him going that he didn’t have.
He didn’t want to, but Chief Hopper knew when to quit and now was the time. Grabbing his radio, he called out to Powell and Callahan on his radio. “Yeah boss?”
“I’m calling it for tonight. We will keep searching for the girl tomorrow when we get some shut eye and the sun is up.” Hopper mumbled into his radio as he did one last sweep of the area around him before he turned back around and headed for his truck. 
“Will do boss.” Something clicked in Hopper’s mind before he signed off for the evening. “You say something else, boss?” 
“Yeah, make sure Ted and Karen get home safe, I don’t need more civilians out getting lost.” The three police officers finished their pleasantries and signed off until the morning when they promised the three of them would be back out at eight am on the dot. This left Hopper to wander the woods alone with his own thoughts and the quiet around him back to his car and head back home to Eleven and some Eggos waffles fresh outta the toaster. 
Hopper gripped his steering wheel with one hand while the other he used to rub his face of the stress this evening has caused. He enjoys his work, he really does. Helping the community and everything, but the max he wants to worry about is thieves from the local pharmacy because the local teenagers wanted to get high on Nyquil. No missing kids who run away from home. No monsters. No kids who have been experimented on their entire lives. 
First Joyce’s kid, now one of the Wheeler’s daughters too. Whatever happened to kids listening to their parents and staying home? “I swear, if Eleven even thinks about disappearing like that on me, I’ll turn this state topside.” With a slam of the door, Hopper looked up to his little cabin, something he found when he was a young stupid kid and later in life would convert into a home for himself away from the life of Hawkins. Now it was his permanent home for him and his new daughter. 
“El, I’m home.” Hopper ducked his head into the door frame, looking over to the coat rack that he placed his hat upon the coat rack before making his way into the kitchen right next to the door. “I hope you didn’t eat all of the waffles while I was gone.” He quipped with a smile on his face; he didn’t hear her respond, which he was glad about since she should be in bed, like he wanted to be. But Jim needed something in his belly. 
He hummed to himself a little tune he heard on the radio on his way over, not knowing what the song was, but it was here in his head and it didn’t seem to appear to be leaving any time soon. This ditty stuck with him as Jim Hopper pressed a little extra butter into the crevices of the waffle and smothering it in syrup, the best way to eat waffles honestly. Grabbing his plate, Hopper decided in his head which channel he was going to watch tonight before he turned in only to get up at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow. 
Stepping into his living room, Hopper jumped in surprise when he saw Eleven staring at him with a straight face. “Jesus, El, you should have said something while I was in the kitchen, I thought you were asleep by now.” Eleven kept her gaze upon her father figure as he rounded the couch and saw another thing he was not expecting. 
El was sitting on the couch in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, but she wasn’t alone. Hopper nearly dropped his waffles when he saw you, passed out on his couch, your head laying on El’s lap as she ran her fingers through your hair, which was sopping wet, as were your clothes. “Eleven. How did she get here?” Jim fell into his armchair, his plate of waffles laying on his lap and his jaw dropped down nearly as far. 
“She knocked.” El stated curtly, her eyes looking to Hopper a second more before she turned her head to look back down at you. “She’s Mike’s sister.”
“Yeah, that’s one of the Wheeler’s daughters. I’ve been looking for her all night. When did she get here?” Hopper moved his body forward to see more of her surrogate daughter and you.
“At 9-4-9. Why is she so sad, Hopper?” She completely disregarded his own questions and comments and began pegging her own at him. “I can see her thoughts. She’s so sad. Why? She has Mike. I can’t have Mike but I’m not sad.” 
Hopper sighed after hearing this, he never poked into other people’s affairs, but he had a feeling he might have to talk to your family when he got you home. “I...I don’t know El.” The young teen nodded her head, her hand still running over your hair.
The group of three sat there in quiet silence, El stroking your hair as you slept on while Hopper sat deep in thought of what he should do next. He was thinking, but he could not stopwatch his daughter and how she acted around you. He saw that you were still wet, though it did seem like you were slowly drying off, hopefully you wouldn’t get sick because of this. 
Placing the now empty plate down, Hopper stood up with his mind made on what he was going to do. “Come on, El. It’s past your bedtime, bud.” 
“But I want to stay-” With a raise of his hand, Hopper stopped the young girl from speaking. 
“I’ll stay with her, El. Don’t worry.” The chief walked over and gave her shoulder a gentle pat on the shoulder as he helped guide her out from under your head. “Be careful with her, I’m sure she’s had a rough night.”
Going into her room Hopper gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, to which she gave the customary comment “scratchy” with a smile on her face as she commented on his beard against her skin. With a chuckle, Hopper shut the door behind him with El flicking the lights off herself, leaving him in the main room of the cabin. The man signed deeply as he ran his hands over his face roughly, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes and wake himself up just a bit. 
He took a rather ungracefully seat next to your head, hoping his jostling of the couch would wake you up, but you only shifted at his added weight. Jim Hopper sighed again and moved his hand over to your shoulder, gently shaking it. “Come on, kid. I need you to wake up for me.” His already gruff voice as gruffer and deeper from exhaustion as well as how quiet he was being. “Kid, you gotta get up.”
You finally started to move, letting out a groan at being woken up, your body shivering under his warm hand. The groan quickly moved into a gasp as you shot upright with your eyes wide like an animal Hopper has seen hunting before. You quickly pulled away from his hand, almost like he had burned you and pressed yourself against the armrest of the couch as your eyes greedily took in the room you were in.
“Hey, hey kid, calm down. It’s me Hopper.” He watched as your eyes came to focus on him, your eyes rapidly moving, and your chest was heaving. “Calm down, kid. You’re safe. It’s Chief Hopper. You’re safe.” His hands were in front of him, a simple signal of peace between the two of you as you slowed your breathing down and started blinking, your eyes rapidly seeming to come back into focus. 
“Ch-chief Hopper?” Your voice came out a little hoarse, surprising you at the weakness behind your own voice. “Wh-what...where am I?” 
“You’re in my cabin, kid. Bout twenty miles from any form of civilization.” Hopper kept his place on the couch, letting you settle yourself into a cross legged position that seemed more comfortable, though not fully at ease. “Wanna tell me how you ended up over here? And why you’re sopping wet?”
His comment caused you to look down at yourself, just now noticing that you were in fact wet. “I...I don’t really remember. I just was running through the woods out by my house, and I guess I just...wait, I think I fell into a creek or something before I found this place. Yeah, I fell into some creek, and it was freezing water, so I...don’t remember much after that…” You looked down as you tried remembering just how you got here.
“Well kid, you somehow made it from one end of Hawkins to the other. You’re almost outside of the city limits.”
“What? Wait what time is it?” Your eyes widened again, and you quickly jumped off the couch, making a move towards the door. 
“Hold up, kid.” Hopper grabbed your forearm as you moved past him, stopping you and reversing your path to lead you back down to sitting next to him, this time placing you closer to him. “You know you caused a lot of trouble around town.” Your shoulders sank when he mentioned this, followed by a quiet apology that he waved away. “I don’t care, you’re fine, I know where you are. Now, wanna explain this to me?” Feeling around his pockets, Hopper produced a polaroid picture that he handed over to you. 
You took the picture from him and felt yourself deflate once you saw your wall. “I forgot I did that.” Your words were quiet mutters as you looked at the words you painted nights ago when you were in a rage. “I...I didn’t-” 
“Don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything. The words are there.” Hopper had his gaze fixed on you, his body leaning towards you as he waited for a response. “Y/N,” You looked back up at him from hiding from the photo. “Are there problems at home?”
He barely suggested this, and you shook your head. “No, there’s nothing like that, Chief Hopper, sir. It’s just...it’s…” Hopper watched as you worked on your words; whether it was appropriate or not, he placed his hand on your knee in solidarity. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m just...it’s hard sometimes, cause I’m just stuck in the middle. Mikey’s the only boy in the family and he’s always at his friends house. Holly is adorable and she’s the baby and she’s cute. And Nancy…” You paused again, focusing your gaze onto your finger tracing the fabric on the couch. “Things aren’t good with her and me. I got into high school and she just...because very mean. Bitchy honestly. My parents care about me...but they don’t side with me and it isn't good sometimes. Or a lot of the times. But things are like bad at home, times just get rough sometimes.”
“I think you just described a bad household, kid.” 
“No, no, no. It’s not bad. I didn’t mean…” Your voice cracked and you moved to quickly wipe your eyes. “I didn’t…” You tried again, but you couldn’t get yourself to talk. 
Hopper sighed at watching you. He didn’t want to have this conversation, it was an uncomfortable feeling already, but if he wanted to sleep again, he needed to know. “Don’t tell me if you meant it or not. Can you tell me why you wrote all of this? I’m just here to help you, Y/N.” 
You finally looked up at him, for the first time really since you woke up, feeling your eyes starting to sting. “Damnit.” You whined into your hands as you hid your face from Hopper just as quickly as you looked up at him. Trying, you tried so hard to stop yourself from crying, because this wasn’t something you did. Y/N Wheeler didn’t break down and cry. You didn’t do that kinda thing. 
Hopper watched, he was never this good when his wife got emotional, he was barely there for his own little girl. With El, she was even stranger of a case and had no clue what to do with you. You were a practically random sixteen/seventeen-year-old sitting on his couch, crying, and he was lost. He went against his own instincts and did something that made him uncomfortable but would hopefully help you. 
“Come here kid.” As gently as possible, Hopper wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you to cry on his own shoulder, much to his uncomfort. “Talk when you want to. I’m here all night.” As much as he didn’t want to be awake for the evening, he had a feeling he may have needed to say this. 
And you took his suggestion quickly. “I don’t always feel like that, I just-I just-I just...it gets hard when my mom wants me to be like Nancy and I can’t because I’m not smart enough, or pretty enough, or perfect enough. And I was angry and tired and...I do hate home. I hate it so much. But I have nowhere to go. I can’t just leave.”
You had no one to listen to you, not before this, but Hopper did. Hopper listened to you until you slowly cried yourself to sleep. Chief heard your voice quiet down as you kept talking until you went completely silent and your breathing evened out to where you were sleeping. He glanced over to the clock and groaned at how late it was, or early. It was way too close to when he needs to be awake for his liking.
“Guess I should sleep myself.” Muttering to himself, Hopper leaned his head against the back of his couch and worked on getting himself to sleep, feeling you shift closer to his shoulder just before he fell asleep for the night. 
-----
El let her leg jump against yours in the front seat of Hopper truck. Early this morning, you woke up to Hopper talking to someone through the phone, it sounded like he was talking to his police workers, telling them something about staying in the office and not being able to show up till later in the morning. After the phone call, he corralled you and El into his work truck after giving you a change of her clothes that looked like they should fit. 
Plus, it gave her an excuse to see your little brother, who apparently has a little girlfriend that you didn’t know about. She was smiling in her seat next to you, still not having said too much to you other than she was excited to see Mike. 
She was sandwiched between you and Hopper, allowing you to stare out the window as the scenery around you changed, watching as the scenery changed from heavily wooded forest to dirt roads to suburbs. All the while, you wondered what would happen when you got home. Because there obviously wasn’t anywhere else you would be going besides back home. How will you walk in? Will you go up to your room? Will your mom care? Chief Hopper said they were out searching for you, but you had a pit growing in your stomach where you thought how this could be a lie. 
This question was going to be answered much faster than you anticipated as you saw your house and driveway come into view in the front window of the car. El’s jumpiness intensified at the sight of the house while you tried sinking further into your chair. “Alright, you two, let’s get to the door before this rain picks up again. I don’t wanna go into work soaked.” He warned as he got out of the car with El following past him and ran for the front door. 
But you didn’t move a muscle. 
You watched as Hopper went up to the door that El was already knocking on and it opened before the Chief even got up there. Your mother had opened the door and you inhaled sharply when you saw her with her hair pulled back into a mess that you wouldn’t even call a bun anymore and it looked like she was in a pair of your father’s pants and a grungy t-shirt. 
Her eyes looked over Chief Hopper and El, who had pushed past her to where you assumed would be hugging Mike, before back to the Chief who pointed at the truck, causing her to look in your direction. The moment you two made eye contact, she began running to you, across the grass with no shoes on her feet. Rain was still coming down in a constant drizzle, but that didn’t slow your mom down.
Seeing her pursuit towards you, you pushed the door open and fell out into the rain yourself before moving towards your house and mom. You two met and her nearly tackled you to the ground as she wrapped you in one of the tightest hugs you ever received. Her face pressed into your shoulder and she held you so tightly to her chest, and you returned this by slipping your arms under your mother’s and held onto her waist. “Mom.” You whimpered into her chest, sealing your eyes shut as you fought back tears you never thought you would have shed. 
The rain ran down your head and under your clothes, but you didn’t want to think about anything but your mom’s hug right now. “Y/N, oh my…” You heard your dad’s voice before you felt him hug you from behind, taking both you and your mom up in an embrace you hadn’t felt in a long time. Opening your eyes, you saw the front of your house, the door opens to your house with Chief Hopper standing on the porch still, his arms crossed over his chest with a neutral look on his face. In the doorway, you saw someone standing at the threshold of the house: Nancy. She looked at you, no emotion to her face, just watching. You wanted to feel uncomfortable under that gaze, but you shut your eyes and came back to enjoy the safe and warm embrace of your parents around you. 
It was eventually the rain that pushed you three inside, and where your strings of apologies began. On your couch, with your dad sitting next to you and your mom kneeling in front, you started apologizing for running away, apologizing for making your parents and family and other people worried, apologizing for seeing your sister’s boyfriend. “Y/N,” You were interrupted by your mom. “Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do. You shouldn’t have been sneaking Steve into the house at all, but you were helping him see your sister.” She ran her thumb against your cheek, affection you weren’t used to yet or at all.
Your gaze went over to Chief Hopper, who was leaning against the junction between your living room and kitchen. He gave you a small smile and nod, almost having to tell you that it was okay for your mother to be treating you like this. ‘If you ever feel uncomfortable at home, or if you ever need anything kid, drop by the office. My door will be open if you need it’. He told you this morning while he offered your waffles for breakfast before hitting the road, the both of you remembering your admittance early this morning to him.
“Okay.” A quiet whisper came from your lips as you looked back at your mom and gave her a small smile. You just hoped in the back of your head that things would somehow go back to what you knew as normal.
-----
You concluded that you had no clue what normal was. 
Tuesday your mom and dad kept you home from school with your father running out to work for a few hours before coming back. She never let you out of her sight throughout the day, calling your name every time you left the room for more than five minutes. And every time she called your name, you knew that it was your fault, you were the reason she was skittish about you leaving the house. 
Eventually you were able to convince her that you were just going upstairs to sleep for a little bit, promising her that you wouldn’t leave or slip out the window...again. Stepping into the room, you sighed at the feeling of being able to breathe again. Sliding down against the door, you never realized how...overwhelming having attention on you was. But your room was your sanctuary and you looked around, your eyes stopping when you saw the wall next to your window, it was blank. The words you wrote had been painted over like they never were even there. 
You gulped and forced yourself to look away from the negative space and felt the wind leave your body at the sight of an empty easel stand. “M-Mom?” She came up the stairs a few seconds after you called her. “Where’s my painting?” 
At your question, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Sweetie, your dad took care of it.” Her news scared you, but what else had you expected when the canvas was destroyed, you could try and paste it together, but then it wouldn’t look the same. “He told me he was going out to get you another canvas sweetie, so you can paint it again when he gets back.” Nodding your head, you sighed before smiling up at her.
“Thanks mom. I’m tired, so I think I’m gonna take a nap or something.” She returned your smile before kissing your forehead and shutting the door behind you. Once you were alone, you took one final look at the empty corner before you turned to your bed and tucked yourself in for now.
Wednesday passed by with Clare and Matt tackling you as you stepped out of the car, both of them screaming at you for being missing for two days without telling them and making them worried when they heard about you actually going missing. And all you could do was apologize for making them worry. Every time anyone reminds you about how worried they were, you feel another wave of guilt in your decision. 
At least your teachers didn’t bring it up, leaving you to figure out what you missed from the past two days on your own and your school day went on as normal, with a happy break during art class until you remembered your canvas. Seeing the face that you had started, you stared at it for a second, thinking, waiting, waiting on what is a good question, but your small burst of waiting ended when you picked up a paint brush and dipped the tip into black and began the outline of a face. 
You didn’t give a fuck right now. You wanted to paint, and this face is what you were going to paint. That art period was one of the fastest ones you remember attending but still one of your most productive ones with you being able to get the shape of the face done and drew the base color of the hair down in the shape you would work with tomorrow. 
And when Thursday art class came, you were already painting before the bell rang, not waiting for teacher’s permission to get started. Colors blended seamlessly, every strand of hair stood out in a cohesive way, the skin tone was becoming less white and more colored with a light blush on the cheek to give life. The lips and nose were already done, and this left you with the eyes. 
You realized you hadn’t seen Harrington since...was it Saturday? Not that you cared, you didn’t need Nancy breathing down your neck again for supposedly cheating behind her back. But you wanted to keep this painting going, wanted to finish something that Nancy couldn’t destroy. Something you wish you could turn into the art show for your school. 
You pushed away the thought of the art show you worked so hard to put a piece in, but that’s all your teacher talked about was the show today in Indianapolis. She advertised it on Wednesday and Thursday in class and told everyone to go if they were interested in seeing different schools and their projects they had worked on. You had been planning on going all year since you heard about this opportunity back in August. And now, your plans are completely up-ended for having your own art presented there.
Instead of focusing on the now missed opportunity of the painting, you looked to what was before you and pulled your paintbrush to begin the eyes. Harrington’s warm and welcoming eyes. 
Time slowly ticked by until you had the body of the eye colored out and everything except for the eye color itself. The pupils were completely, and the iris was outlined, but you left the coloring for last. You knew the color, but not the depth. Like his hair. His hair was brown, but there were small shines of gold hidden throughout, and as his hair got to his tips, they muted down to almost an auburn color. Nothing was just a single color; depth came from marking out the darker exterior iris and getting lighter as it gets closer to the pupil before darkening again. 
This was something you stopped yourself from doing; you could stare at Harrington’s skin or hair all day and he wouldn’t notice. Trying to see his eyes, that was harder than you called for. So, you couldn’t know the report layers of his eyes, not without doing it in the next couple of days when he jumped through your window. 
“What time is it?” You muttered very quietly to yourself as you turned in your seat to look at the clock hanging in the back of the church. With only ten minutes left in class, you were about to turn around when someone caught your eye. And you didn’t stop your staring gaze at Harrington sitting in the back row of class. 
How long he had been in this class, you had no clue, but you couldn’t take your eyes of the teenager in the back of your class who had a paintbrush pinched between his fingers and working on the canvas he had in front of him. He must have felt your stare because he looked up at you and met your gaze.
You didn’t turn away yet, allowing the two of you to dumpling watch each other. From here you couldn’t see the colors you had been needing, but you could see the small smile he sent your way and a wave. You returned the gesture and turned back towards your own drawing, a warm blush rising to your cheeks as you dm cursed yourself for not noticing that he was in your class and painting obviously his face in front of him. 
In the next ten minutes, you cut yourself off early and worked on cleaning up the paint brushes and paint palettes. You didn’t get much quiet cleaning done when you found someone standing next to you in the adjoining sink. “You've been missing the past couple of days, Wheeler.” 
Harrington was washing his own equipment next to you. “Yeah...I wasn’t feeling well these past few days.” Not everyone in school knew you needed to know what happened between you and your family. 
He hummed at your response not responding for a time until he was finished washing the brushes. “What are you doing tonight, Wheeler?” 
You looked at him in confusion in his direction. “Why?”
“I was...there’s a new movie out and I was curious about if you wanted to come watch it with me.” His question caused you to scoff as the bell rang around you, forcing you to put your brushes away while answering over your shoulder.
“You should be asking my sister, not me. Besides, I’m busy in Indianapolis.” Yes. You were still going to the show, your mom and dad told you it would be a good way for you to show them what you enjoyed doing, even if nothing was there for you to show. You tried arguing this morning, but neither of them would change their minds. 
Matt and Clare had you sandwiches between the two as they asked about your painting since you should be almost done, but you still weren’t focused on that. “How long has Harrington been in our art class?” 
“I would say...he’s been there the whole time, hasn't he, Clare?” Matt asked over your head.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. He’s always been tucked away in the back. Very quiet for Harrington.” Clare commented herself in his “odd” and quiet behavior. You nodded in sort of understanding, but you threw a look over your shoulder again, still curious as to why Harrington was asking you about seeing a movie. 
-----
“Mom, we really don’t need to do this. We can just go home and have a movie night or something.” This had been your comment the entire ride from Hawkins to the capital in your state. But they hadn’t listened to you and kept driving.
And with you now standing in front of the building that was advertising the show, you tried even harder to not have to go inside and they pushed ever more for you to go in. “Come on, even if you don't have anything to actually present, we want to see what gets you excited to paint.” Your mom spoke rather whimsically as she wrapped her hand under your dad’s arm and he escorted her into the building, you were trailing behind them. As much as you didn’t want to go inside, your mother always found a way of getting you places you didn’t want to be. 
Stepping into the door, you were welcomed to the warm environment of overhead lighting of candelabras, a cinnamony smell, and wooden floors that made the place feel homey and welcoming. A place you would gladly spend your Saturdays wandering between the lone pillars that held small statues, paintings on walls, different mediums of art you have never dabbled in but could appreciate.
“Come on, Y/N. Give us the tour of the place, what is everything?” Your dad looked to you with a smile. With a small huff, you looked around the room, to the other families of students whose art was on display, their art, and not your own, before you smiled back and started walking around with them. 
They asked questions about what everything they saw, what it meant, how did it look like that, why did they do this kind of medium instead of that. It was fun for you to see them so interested in what you enjoyed. Some of the questions they asked were out of your realm, like why they used more black than red in this painting, why were the flowers sculpted this way. “That’s just what the person wanted to do. Everybody puts their own spin on what they do.” 
The three of you were standing in front of a painting of what looked to be the Chicago skyline, with multi colors showing the sunset and stars beginning to appear in the sky. Really pretty painting, very simple but it caught the moment the sun disappeared behind the city. 
You enjoyed standing in front of the painting for several minutes, analyzing it, acknowledging the simplicity of the painting and its colors while also admiring this person’s work with blending paints to make three colors appear to be a rainbow. You had never been to Chicago yourself, but this painting brought you there. To your left you watched your parents move down to another display, but you kept yourself happy enjoying others work. 
“Beautiful.” Someone spoke next to you, the only other person who was standing in front of the painting with you; you looked over at the person and scoffed at seeing him. 
“You following me now, Harrington?” As much as you wanted to move away from him, you didn’t want his presence interrupting your enjoyment of a small thing you loved. “How’d you even find me?”
“I’m not following you; I just happen to enjoy looking at art. Or do I come off as too much of a douchebag for this kinda stuff?” Looking back over to Harrington, all you did was look at him. Watch him. He never answered how he found you and you really didn’t want to have him around you more than sneaking in and out of your room to get to Nancy.
“Still doesn’t explain how you got to this one.” You mumble to yourself as you found the painting now not as appealing as before and turned to follow after your parents, seeing a big group of people gathering around a small stand. 
“Wheeler, hey I wanted to talk to you about something.” Harrington was by your side again and walking over with you. His tall height allowed him to see over most of the people in front of the exhibit; once he saw what was on the other side of a sea of people, his eyes widened before a small smirk perked at his lips. “Wow.” He muttered before turning back to you. 
“Whatever you want Harrington, no. And...stop talking to me. Please.” Your heart was starting to pick up pace as you moved around the crowd, still away from him and a little closer to where your parents were at the center of this grouping.
He followed; it was getting annoying. “Come on, Y/N. I just wanted to talk to you. I mis-” You spun around, your hair and dress you were wearing flaring out around you as you turned back to look at him. 
“Don’t say that, Harrington. Me talking to you is the reason I am in this whole mess. So, stay away from me.” Something ran through you, you couldn’t tell if it was fury or anger, but a heavy emotion coursed through your veins as you stared at him. Your hands were fisted by your side and you hoped your glare would tell him to back off. “I don’t need Nancy hating me already more than she does. Just leave me alone.” Everything around you hurt, and nothing made sense. The art exhibits around you no longer were appealing; you were confused, and you didn’t know why. 
“Y/N, that’s what I need to say, if you would let me talk.” Harrington stepped towards you with his hand extended out to grab hold of your wrist and bring your hand forward. “Nancy and I are-”
“I know, you and Nancy are dating, that’s why I can’t talk to you.” As you spoke you tried pulling your hand away, but Harrington had a stronger hold than your weak pull could break. And after feeling his hand almost holding yours, you almost broke and let yourself enjoy this small moment. 
When you made the mistake of not pulling away harder, Harrington took a step closer to you, your feet were almost touching and he was so close you could smell his deodorant, or cologne, or whatever he used. Whatever it was, it smelt better than your little brother most days. “Y/N, if you would let me talk, I can tell you that Nancy and I are-”
“Why do you keep saying my name? You’ve always called me Wheeler and I’ve called you Harrington.” You took a step closer, even if it was small, and pressed your finger against his chest pokingly. “I call you Harrington because if I call you Steve, that makes me want to date you more. I want to be selfish and be the one that dates you. But I can’t because you are my sister’s boyfriend and she may hate me, but I respect her enough to not try and get with you. So please, just leave me alone.” You were practically begging him at this point, and you stepped away from him, moving to turn back to find your parents.
Forgetting that he was still holding on your hand, you groaned as he tugged you back around. Your beginning argument was cut short when you felt him press a kiss to your forehead. He left his lips against your rapidly heating up skin for a few seconds longer before he pulled away with a smile on his face. “Nancy and I aren’t dating anymore. I called it off after she…” He looked around for a second before he coughed and spoke again. “Let’s just say after I saw some true colors shining through.” 
You stared at him confused, watching him, waiting to see if there was anything you could tell you that he was lying to you, that this was all a ploy for him and Nancy to see that you are trying to steal him from her. “How...what?”
Before he could answer, you heard your name being called. “Y/N sweetheart.” You turned your head towards where you heard your mom’s voice before you looked back at Harrington. 
“I…I gotta go.” Taking a tentative step backwards, you kept your eyes on him as you slowly pulled your hand away from his. Once your hand was free from his grasp, you slowly turned away, letting the smile finally grow on your face. 
“Wheeler?” 
“Yes? Steve?” You tested out saying his name as you spun around quickly and looked at him. The feeling left you breathless and lightheaded. 
“When are you free this weekend? I wanted to see if you could draw me another picture.” His smile hadn’t left his face and neither had yours. 
Honestly you were feeling bashful at the attention and you couldn’t look at him without your heart skipping a little and the feeling that your smile wanted to get even bigger, so you looked at your feet as you answered. “I’m free this Saturday if you...wanna pick me up?”
Although you already knew the answer, you were excited to actually hear him say it; looking back up, he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll come to your window to get you.” Your name was called again, breaking the small moment and you gave him a small wave before you turned around. 
Maybe it wasn’t so bad that you were here today. 
The crowd around that one piece had dissipated with your parents still at the front of it, both blocking it from our view as you mom looked at you with a smile. “Y/N. Can you tell me why this person painted these flowers with a…” Her words faded away as you came around her and saw what everyone had been staring at.
There it was. But how? Staring at it, you knew, you knew it was yours.
The dark red background, the faded white outlines of the ribcage, the heart, the beautiful red and pink muscles and veins running across the structure. It was all there. Even the big rip in the center was there. But it wasn’t as noticeable with the gorgeous bouquet of roses sticking through the hole, making the original painting of flowers look 3D now. Your jaw dropped at the sight of it being here, and just as gorgeous as you imagined it when you began working on it. 
“How did this get here?” Stepping past your parents, you went up to the stand it was sitting on and read the plaque next to it. Your name was there! “I thought you threw it out?” 
You felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder. “Now why would I throw something so beautiful and emotional away? You worked so hard on it that I wanted to add my own spin to it.” He did this.
“You...you did this, dad?” He gave you a nod, and you felt your mom’s hand on your opposite shoulder, you between the two of them as you three looked at your art piece. The piece you had been planning and working on for months now and was here, in the biggest student art gallery in Indiana. After Nancy, you never thought you could have gotten to see this. 
Tears quickly filled your eyes and started running down your face, but you didn’t move to wipe them away and instead moved to wrap your father in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You whisper to him, staring at what was before you as your mother enveloped you on your otherwise. “Thank you so much.” 
The moment to others just seemed to be a family enjoying this piece of work, a sweet moment. And it was, but to you, you have never felt so loved before. This wasn’t going to fix everything that ever happened to you in the past with your parents and your family, but this was a good start to changing thin. You didn’t need to forgive them for everything from before, but you knew that one day, just one day all the tears in your heart could be mended and your heart be as full as the painting before you. 
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thesardonicwriter · 4 years ago
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The Way It Is, Arthur Morgan x Reader
Crossposting on AO3 and here! Except on AO3 it’s an OC and here it’s you! So forgive any mistakes, I kinda just eyeballed the you’s from the she’s.
Anyway, here you go, friends!
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You sat quietly in Beaver’s Hollow, cleaning your trusty pistol and pretending to ignore Micah and his loud mouth. The train job had gone better than they’d hoped but John… John was dead. Arthur and Sadie had ridden off to get Abigail back from the Pinkertons because Dutch had refused to. Dutch would rather have let his friend’s son be orphaned than go to get Abigail back. Things had been changing in the gang for a long time. You had seen it coming for a long time. You had never thought you’d see the day that Dutch would just abandon his own people. And at the word of Micah Bell, of all people! It hurt. It was time to move on from the Van der Linde gang, you could see that now. It was only a matter of when and how. Her heart stung as you thought of leaving Javier and Bill, as brutish as the latter was. You had been with them for 12 years. 12 years that you would never see again. There weren’t any other options now.
“Get them bags packed up quick, Miss Grimshaw,” Micah ordered. “And you, (Y/L/N), get off your ass and help out.”
You ignored Micah, refocusing on your gun. In the chaos of everyone fleeing here, that was when you would peel off from the group. Maybe you’d be able to convince Susan to leave with you, too. God, you wanted to slap some sense into Dutch. It was too late for that. You knew that, somewhere, but it was still your first instinct.
“Hurry up! We don’t got much time,” Micah barked.
As you felt yourself falling deeper into your own thoughts, you heard Arthur’s voice echo through the camp. You holstered your gun quickly and looked up, expecting to see Abigail and Sadie with him. But he was alone. He was alone and he was angry. His hat hung low over his eyes. Worry built in your chest. Arthur jumped off of his horse. He was walking with a dedicated purpose.
“We just got plenty of time, Micah,” Arthur said. “We all need to have a little chat.”
“Morgan. You’re back. Hooray.”
Dutch slowly emerged from his tent. The canvas flap moved shut behind him. The sight of their once great leader no longer filled you with a sense of pride. A sense of duty, like you were doing the right thing in your life. Arthur and Dutch slowly walked towards each other. If a stranger had come into the camp right then, they wouldn’t have seen two old friends welcoming each other. They would have seen two men, two enemies, having their final confrontation. It wasn’t so hard for you to believe that Dutch and Colm O’Driscoll had been friendly once now as you watched those two regard each other.
“I just had a little chat with Agent Milton, Dutch. Abigail shot him. She’s okay… not that you care too much about that.”
Micah, Cleet, and Joe started to stalk towards Arthur. It was like watching a cougar eyeing her meal. You pushed yourself to your feet and moved behind your friend. Her hand was hovering over your guns, willing Micah to give your a reason to fire. Dutch stopped walking. His eyes never left Arthur. Susan stopped packing and looked from both sides of the camp. Arthur turned to Micah and his men, effectively stopping them in their tracks.
“You rats,” he scoffed. “All of ya. Seems old Micah was pretty good friends with Milton.”
“What the hell are you talking about, cowpoke?”
“You talked.”
Those words. Those two simple words made so much click together. Micah talked. Hell, there had been problems before Guarma, but after then, even when the rest of the gang was being careful, things still seemed to go wrong. Micah was even closer in Dutch’s ear. It seemed like that was the only person their leader would listen to for anything. Micah talked. Dutch’s actions hadn’t been entirely his own as things progressed. Because Micah talked.
“That’s a goddamn lie.” Micah hissed.
“Dutch…” Arthur’s voice was wavering. He, too, still hoped that his friend, his mentor, was still there.
“Dutch, think of the future.”
Dutch stood by his tent, looking at both men in confusion. Even from where you were, you could see the conflict in his eyes. The fight between who he was becoming and who he used to be. His mouth was slightly agape, as if in disbelief as Arthur continued speaking.
“Milton told me.”
“And you believed him, Morgan? You believe him?”
“It all makes sense now.” 
“No, it damn well doesn’t.”
Arthur drew his pistol, aiming for Micah’s headYou was quick behind him, aiming at Joe while Cleet struggled with his gun. Bill stood from the table, gun in hand but unsure of what to do. Slowly, he raised his repeater towards ArthurYour hand was steady. You pulled your second gun, aiming for Bill. Oh, Bill. They had spent some good years together. You refused to hesitate.
“Dutch, think!”
“Dutch, be practical now.”
“Dutch!”
Your heart sang as a painfully familiar voice came through the fog and tension. You turned to see John walking towards camp, holding his arm and limping towards them all. You held back a happy sob as you saw him. He was alive. He survived. And Dutch lied about it. Had he even gone back to check on him? Once, anyone would have insisted that John was the golden boy. John was the favourite. John was the one that Dutch would have done anything for. Just another example of just how far he had really fallen from grace. Oh, to go back to those days when things seemed so much simpler. So much better.
“You left me! You left me to die!” John’s voice was dripping with venom and his eyes were filled with rage as he looked to Dutch van der Linde.
Dutch’s eyes were wide in shock. He started walking towards John slowly. “My boy, I didn’t have a choice. John, I didn’t…”
“You-”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“-left me!”
“All of you, you pick your side now, because this is over. All them years, Dutch,” Arthur shook his head, “for this snake?!”
Micah chuckled. “Be quiet, cowpoke, be quiet. You live in the clouds.”
“No, you be quiet, Mr. Bell,” Grimshaw spoke. She walked into the fray with her trusty shotgun. “And put your gun down,” she sneered.
“There’s Pinkertons coming!” Javier ran from down the hill.
Jesus, how many more people were going to burst into their camp today?
Micah took Javier’s distraction in stride. He fired one shot into Miss Grimshaw’s stomachYou moved both guns to train on Micah. Her eyes were stinging with tears. You may have fought with Susan over things, but you had always loved the woman. She was one of the people who made you feel like you belonged in the gang when you first got there. Your finger was close to pulling back on the trigger. Dutch pulled his guns, pointing them at Micah and Arthur. 
“Now! Who amongst you is with me and who is betrayin’ me?!” Dutch demanded.
Dutch moved towards the treeline. Arthur and you backed closer to the cave, John as close as he could get. They were the only three people leaving Dutch’s side. You tightened your jaw. If that was how it had to be, then that was what you were going to do. Bill and Javier stood behind Dutch. Bill, a man you had called your brother, was aiming his gun at your, no remorse or regret in his eyes. Javier still seemed unsure of what to do, but he knew he had to stay with Dutch. The man you once would have said was like a father was aiming his guns at you. All because of a traitor he still trusted. How had they let things get this bad? Micah continued to insist that Arthur was lying. Before the firefight could begin, the Pinkertons started yelling. You pulled John and Arthur’s shoulders back towards the caves, pushing them down as you sent a few shots back towards the people that you used to call your friends.
More gunshots rang out from everywhere. You kept urging the boys forward. You lit a lamp as they ran deeper and deeper into the cave. You had been through here once and found the secret exit. Even if they had been in the dark, you could have found it but you weren't taking any risks. Pinkertons shouted behind them. Agent Ross or whatever his name was told them to freeze, stop running, and he ordered his men to find them. You wasn’t going to let that happen. You led them to the ladder.
“Go, go!” You said, pushing John towards it. “Fuckin’ climb!”
You waited until they were both up before climbing yourself. You hit the lamp against the stone walls of the cave. Kerosene splashed your leg but you didn’t care as you poured it onto the ladder. This was the only way you could think of to make sure the Pinkertons couldn’t follow them out here. You were pulled up the rest of the way by Arthur. You reached into his satchel and found his matchbook. 
“This is gonna have to do.” You struck a match on your boot and let it fall onto the ladder. 
The three of them ran from the exit. The trio kept moving, kept running, until they were far from the cave. Arthur and John whistled for their horses. You had one of your pistols out. You were waiting for someone to show up. They had two groups after them now. They had to get off of this damn mountain before they got caught by Micah or the Pinkertons.
“Thank you,” he said, “for believin’ me,”
“‘Course, Arthur,” you said.
“Can we talk about this later?” John snapped as the horses came into view.
Arthur lifted you into the saddle behind him. You had one arm wrapped around his waist as they started riding through the forest. You hadn’t even had time to properly process that John was still alive, what with all the chaos going on. It didn’t seem like there were Pinkertons following them, but you knew that could change at any moment. You kept your eyes peeled. You studied every movement in the trees.
“Those bastards left me for dead!” John yelled.
“Seems that’s what they do now,” Arthur responded.
“And here I was wastin’ my time savin’ your sorry asses all these years. If I’da known I coulda left you I would’ve!” you shook your head.
“Is now the time to be sarcastic, (Y/L/N)?!”
“It’s now or never, Marston!”
“Micah was the rat, John. Milton told me,” Arthur said.
“Figures. We shoulda killed him months ago!”
you was inclined to agree. You went over all of the times you could have left the bastard for dead or shot him in the back. There was no use in focusing on things that couldn’t be changed now. They had to get John to his family, at least. He was the only one of the three had actually  had people waiting for him now. Arthur glanced back at you and you knew that he agreed. It didn’t matter if the two of them died here as long as John was safe.
“Abigail’s at Copperhead Landing with Jack. Tilly and Sadie, too. We’re gonna get you there, John. Once we get these damned Pinkertons off our backs!” Arthur’s voice rose above the wind.
“Thank you. Thank you, brother,” John said.
“Don’t look back, John. When you find them, don’t you dare look back. Like I said.”
you could see John nodding his head in understanding. They must have been talking about getting John and his family out for a long time before this. That was good. That meant that they were ready for this. They were ready to run as far and as fast as they could. You just had to make sure that they actually got that chance. You lightly squeezed Arthur’s waist as your way of silently showing him you would help. You would do whatever it took to get John to them, even if it meant dying yourself. The gang was dead. Her family was dead. There was nothing out there waiting for you. If you did die on that mountain, there wasn’t anyone waiting to mourn for you. And you were okay with that. 
It wasn’t long into the ride before they almost ran headfirst into Dutch’s group. They started shooting at the trio without mercy. Arthur expertly maneuvered his horse out of the line of fire. John was close behind him. You aimed backwards haphazardly, not really caring if you hit anything this time. It just needed to be enough noise to maybe spook one or two of their horses. Micah yelled at them from behind, promising that they’d all be dead soon enough. You takes one look back. You can’t even see the white coat of the Count anymore. 
“Pinkertons ahead!” John announced,
You cursed under your breath as you fired a few more bullets. You heard the click of an empty chamber and started reloading while the boys cut through the river. John started to lead them further and further up the mountain and further and further away from Copperhead Landing. They had to lose their “friends” before they could get there. You knew that. It seemed like the further along they went, the more guns they were met with. John did his best to lead them through the trees. After what seemed like an eternity, the treeline broke. You looked back into the forest. This wasn’t a good development. They were just more in the open now. You aimed your pistol again.
Before you could pull the trigger, you felt yourself getting thrown into the air. You hit the ground. Hard. Her body started rolling down. You felt John’s hand on your arm, stopping your from going any further back into danger. Arthur was kneeling next to his horse, gently patting her head and whispering to her while she passed. You looked around wildly. You found your pistol in the grass and picked it up. You walked to Arthur. Softly, you placed a hand on his shoulder.
“We’ve gotta go, Arthur. We gotta move, now,” you said.
He nodded. “I know. I know! Just… gimme a minute.”
“We ain’t got a minute, hun, we gotta go. Now.”
He looked at the ground. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. He leaned down to pick up his hat. Arthur looked back down the mountain. Back towards Beaver’s Hollow. He shook his head. You watched him curiously.
“All right, let’s go. I’m gonna get you out of this bullshit if it’s the last goddamn thing I do.”
John took Arthur’s hand for a moment. All the years of them fighting seemed to fade away in that moment. They were finally able to forgive each other for everything that had happened. You wished silently that it could have come about in a different way. A better way. 
“All right, that’s enough of the man love for now,” you said with a slight smirk, “we gotta go before they come back. C’mon, this way!”
You started running up. Arthur and John followed closely behind. You forced yourself to forget all of the times you had had in the Van der Linde gang as you shot indiscriminately at those you saw on the mountain. You forced yourself to forget that Dutch had saved your life more than once. . You remembered how Hosea was killed. The memory of his body there in the street was more than enough to fuel the fire within you. You were going to get out of this and you were going to put a bullet into Micah yourself. That was your last goal before you died.
you pushed against a rock as you turned a corner to get to higher ground. The boys were still a little ways behind you. You spun around. It was higher ground, all right, but there wasn’t anywhere to take cover. They would get killed if they stayed there. It wasn’t any better further down. Truly a damned if they did, damned if they didn’t type of situation. You cursed loudly, kicking a stone over the edge. Arthur looked around. He nodded.
“All right then, here’s the plan. You two are gonna get the hell outta here. Don’t you argue with me, you. This is the only way. I’ll stay here and keep as many of the bastards back as I can. But you gotta get John to his family,” Arthur said with a nod.
“No. No! I ain’t leavin’ you here, Arthur!” you protested.
“Darlin’, you ain’t got no choice. Get him outta here. Get him to his woman and child safely.” Arthur put his satchel around your shoulders. 
“Don’t call me darlin’,” you said weakly.
Arthur chuckled. “I know. Just go. I’ll meet you there if I can. Now go. Go!”
He pushed you towards John. John looked up at Arthur. Arthur nodded. This was what he wanted. They weren’t going to talk him out of this. Even if they could, they certainly didn’t have the time for it. You and John started running. Arthur was shouting, telling, no, daring the Pinkertons to come for him. You refused to look back to him as the gunshots started. You couldn’t. You knew that as soon as you did, you’d be right back up there with him, firing and fighting. You reached for John’s hand. You were going to keep him as close as you could as they ran. 
Her feet slid to a stop on the rough stone. You looked around. There had to be a way out of this. A better way out of this. John was catching his breath. Just as you were about to start pulling him a different way, you saw a flash of a leather coat. Micah’s coat. The rage you had been holding in was just about ready to burst.
“That’s it. I’m endin’ this, once and for fuckin’ all,” you sneered. “John, I’ve gotta kill that bastard.”
He looked up at you. “Make sure you don’t miss,”
you smiled. You were a better shot than that. You hugged John. You kept one hand on the back of his head. You wanted to remember this moment. You wanted to commit John to memory forever. You stepped away. John held your hand for a moment. 
“Thank you, sister, for everything.”
“Don’t mention it. Just get to your family. Get them safe.”
“Thank you.”
He turned and started running. You watched him for a moment. He was going to be okay, you knew it. That kid always seemed to have things work out for him. This wouldn’t be any different. You turned on your heel and ran back the way you came. You kept your gun in your hand. You had pictured this day so many times back in camp. You could hardly wait to see what it actually looked like when Micah was begging for mercy under your boot. There were no Pinkertons around you now. It seemed like Arthur had succeeded in leading them off. Wherever he was, you hoped that he had at least managed to get somewhere safe. You’d hate for him to see just how blatantly you’d ignored his last order.
you rounded a corner. Her heart dropped to your feet as you looked on. You were rendered speechless for what felt like the first time in your life.
Micah was standing on Arthur’s neck, laughing maniacally about this situation. Arthur barely looked like himself. There was no way that Arthur had lost this fight unless he had thrown it to protect you and John as they ran. You saw Micah aiming one of his precious guns at Arthur. You didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on your own pistol.Two gunshots sounded. Blood spurted out from the wound, hitting the dirt as Micah fell over the ridge. You ran towards Arthur, begging him not to be dead.
“Don’t you dare die on me now, Morgan, not after all of this shit. You don’t get to take the easy way out you bastard,” you said.
“Not… ow… not dead yet.” Arthur coughed.
“Good. Not dead is good. C’mon, cowboy, let’s get you outta here.”
You put one of Arthur’s arms around your shoulders and struggled to get him to his feet. He helped as best as he could, but he was pretty much useless.
“Bastard shot my leg,” he said, “hurts like a bitch,”
“Shut up for a minute, Arthur, I’m tryin’ to come up with a plan,”
Ultimately, you decided down the mountain was probably the best bet. Slowly, as slowly as you could while still running and supporting Arthur, you started to move down, watching your steps as you went. Arthur was a lot heavier than you thought he’d be. You supposed it made sense, considering. You turned a corner and almost ran directly into the fine silk vest of Dutch himself. You looked up. Instantly, your pistol was aimed at his head. He held up his hands and looked from your to Arthur.
“Your pet rat’s dead, Dutch. I shot him myself. Fell over the ridge down there,”
Dutch opened his mouth to speak. Your eyes flicked up. More Pinkertons. You kept your gun trained on Dutch as he ran away. You kept pushing Arthur further. You held on as best you could. Your foot slipped as you moved further down. Arthur was sent tumbling from your arms and further down. You cussed and made your way back to him, apologising. He was next to a curtain of lichen. His arm was passing through it. Curious, you stuck your head through. It was a cave. A well hidden cave. With the last of your strength, you pulled Arthur inside and hoped that would be enough to keep them safe.
So there you go. Chapter 1 of like 20 something. :D
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four-loose-screws · 4 years ago
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FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 6
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I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.
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Chapter 6: The Castle On the Lake
Atop the cold, clear lake towered a castle.
And surrounding the castle was a thick forest. The green of the trees, the blue of the water’s surface, and the white of the castle… those subtle colors all blended together, creating beautiful scenery, like that of a painting.
However, right now, there was no way that Eirika could afford to enjoy such a view. The white castle walls were like a monster that kept away all intruders.
Waterside Renvall was an impenetrable fort built atop the lake. There was only one path leading to it, a simple bridge suspended over the water. 
The Grado Army, under the assumption that Eirika’s army was in the area, had already placed soldiers around the bridge, and hardened their defenses.
Eirika’s army had no need to hide themselves anymore, either. They stood in battle formation, tall and proud, before the bridge. If they were to attack and take the castle, then clashing with the army stationed there head-on was their only option.
Inside was Eirika’s brother. The enemy had likely taken his freedom, and locked him away in a cell.
Eirika suppressed the urge to attack immediately, and turned towards her allies. “Everyone… We traveled a hard road to get this far. My brother… Prince Ephraim of Renais is being held inside of this castle. Please lend me your strength.”
Colm bowed politely and said “Wow, formal much?” with a laugh.
Neimi elbowed him.
“We expect the enemy to come at us at full strength as well. This battle is likely to become a harsh one…”
“And that’s what we want!” Ross yelled out at the top of his lungs. In just a short span of time, he had become very muscular, and grown into a full-fledged warrior. 
It looked like Garcia was telling him “Not yet!”, but he was too busy swinging around his giant axe, his readiness to boldly rush into the enemy lines inspiring bravery in the young soldiers.
Several others cheered one after the other in agreement with Ross.
Eirika looked around at all of her allies.
She thought it incredibly amazing that so many dependable people had gathered around and lent their strength to a powerless person like her, who knew nothing about war.
Eirika had no strength on her own. It was because of their shared resentment towards the Grado Empire’s tyranny that they had been able to combine their power like this. It was all because their lives had been destroyed by the empire’s sudden invasion, and so many had suffered losing their family...
Eirika was silent as she turned around and faced the enemy army. Then, she raised her sword, and shouted as loudly as she could, “Move out!”
The cavalry unit all galloped ahead in unison. Then, the axe and sword fighters behind them all started running. After that came the archers and mages. And on the rear line, Moulder, Natasha, and the other healers waited on standby from a safe position behind everyone else.
Eirika joined in with the other infantry and ran as quickly as she could. She was now completely used to the sounds of horses neighing and weapons clashing, and did not feel afraid. Only her feelings for her brother grew stronger.
When they'd reached the point where only a few enemy soldiers were left, the cavalry unit forced them to scatter, and Erika's army marched further.
Eirika found Seth among the cavalry, and ran over to him. "Seth, let's use this momentum to storm the castle and save Brother!"
"Yes, Milad..." Seth started to answer, but looked over at the Castle gate, and pulled his horse's reins.
The giant doors slowly opened, and a single person came out from within. The person stepped over the dead and injured to approach Eirika.
When she saw his face, Eirika could not help but call out to him. Though he looked like he was feeling terrible and his face was pale, he was undoubtedly a person she knew very well.
He was the leader of the Renais cavalry unit, Orson. He was a serious knight who had long served the royal family, and a person her father trusted very deeply. He was currently supposed to be serving and aiding Ephraim, as he'd been ordered to do so when Ephraim deployed to protect the border.
It made her very happy to see him safe, however, she felt uneasy as well. Why had he come out of an enemy castle all by himself? Just what had transpired at Renvall Castle? 
Orson stopped before her, and said in an utterly exhausted voice, "Lady Eirika… Seth…"
Seth dismounted his horse and faced him. "Sir Orson! Why are you here? What about your orders to serve Lord Ephraim?"
"You're safe, Orson!" Eirika ran over to him and looked up at the fatigued knight. "Where is Brother? Is he inside this castle?"
"Yes. We were captured by the Grado Army, and became prisoners of this castle. I broke free from my cell, and had a chance… to escape…" A painful coughing fit cut his words short. He looked as if he was about to collapse at any second.
Eirika extended a hand to help support him. "Are you alright, Orson? Your face is so pale… The Grado soldiers must have treated you so terribly…"
"This is nothing. Please save your worries for Lord Ephraim."
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
"He should still be in his cell. I will take you to him before enemy reinforcements arrive." Orson turned around and returned to the castle.
While it was strange that only he had been able to break free from his cell, she could sense even from behind him that he had coldly decided to reject all questions.
"Hey, should we really trust that old man…?" Ross whispered worriedly.
Eirika nodded. "He is Orson, a knight of Renais. It'll be alright. Let's go with him."
"Somethin’ seems off about him…" Ross’ suspicion of the man was so strong that everyone else could feel it. He gripped his axe tightly.
It wasn't as if Eirika did not know how he felt. Orson’s behavior was certainly strange.
However, her hopes to finally reunite with her brother were greater. She jogged to catch up to Orson.
Merely few of her allies followed her. The only sound echoing off the stone floor was that of Eirika’s army’s footsteps. Not one enemy soldier was in sight. Perhaps they had all been defeated in front of the castle gate? She couldn’t believe that.
“Orson…” Feeling discouraged, she tried to call out to him, but he did not stop walking. 
He continued down the complex hallways without even a moment’s hesitation, and led them further inside the castle. “This way. Lord Ephraim is in the inner dungeon.”
“Let’s hurry…”
Because it was a castle atop a lake, the atmosphere of Renvall Castle was damp and gloomy. And they could not sense any other human presence within the castle, nor could they hear even a single noise, further intensifying that atmosphere. The thought of her brother being held in a cold, damp stone cell made her all the more worried.
However, when Eirika tried to speed up, Seth swiftly stepped in front of her and spread his arms out, blocking her path. He then asked Orson in a stern voice, “Sir Orson. How long has it been since you were imprisoned here?”
“...Half a month, roughly…” Orson looked down, trying to avoid Seth’s gaze. His answer was devoid of feeling. “We were forced to surrender before Grado’s large army. We have been locked away inside this castle’s dungeon ever since…”
“Did the enemy soldiers give you any information about what has happened?”
“No, nothing… The only people to bring us our meals were villagers living nearby… I do not know anything about the current state of the battle. Seth, how is Renais currently fairing?”
“The capital fell, and Lord Fado is dead.”
Orson finally looked up at them, but his mask-like expression did not change. Only his whispered words were sad. “I see… How terrible… please forgive us, Lady Eirika. It is all because my unit was so worthless…”
“You fought well. We should focus our thoughts on the future rather than the past. I know what the enemy is after. The Grado Empire is trying to steal the bracelets that Brother and I wear.”
“Your bracelets…?”
“Yes. Brother also wears a bracelet that is the same as this one.” Eirika showed him the bracelet on her wrist.
“I cannot imagine that Brother would simply hand it over to anyone who demanded he give it to them, so I am worried that they might have done something terrible to him to get it…”
“A bracelet…? He certainly was wearing a bracelet that resembled that one, but…” Orson thought deeply for a moment, then continued speaking. “In that case, Lady Eirika, isn’t it dangerous for you to wear your bracelet? The enemy is likely going to come for it again, and plotting to attack you… I think it would be best for you to entrust it to someone else.”
“...Huh?” Eirika felt herself become anxious, though she did not quite understand why, and took a step away from Orson.
She did not mean to doubt his sincerity. Orson had served the royal family as a member of the cavalry unit ever since she was a child.
Before she’d known about the bracelet’s secret, she may have done as he asked without question. But now, she was well aware of the great significance it held. She could never give it to just anyone. No matter how kind their words, if someone told her to entrust it to someone else, then she couldn't help but feel suspicious.
Orson smiled a lonely smile, seeming to have picked up on how she felt. "Lady Eirika, the Sacred Stone is Renais’ most valuable treasure. We cannot allow Grado to steal it, so that is why I suggest you entrust your bracelet to someone else to protect it. It should be someone you can trust… Like me, or Seth. I say this only because I want to lighten the burdens that you carry.”
Orson’s words pierced her heart.
She had doubted Joshua, and now Orson… it saddened her to see herself become quick to be suspicious of her invaluable allies. It was all because of their help that she had been able to succeed in every fight so far.
 Eirika started to place her fingers on her bracelet, but Seth said in a voice even more stern than before, “Sir Orson, I’m sorry, but I must ask you to give me your weapon.”
“Seth…?” Eirika was shocked. She looked up and saw his face from the side. His expression was so serious that it terrified her.
Orson looked at his feet and laughed. “My weapon? What are you talking about? I was a prisoner. My weapons and all of my other belongings were taken by the Grado Army. As you can see, I am currently unarmed…”
“If I am mistaken, then I will apologize afterwards. But there are far too many things here that do not add up.”
“There are things that do not add up… what do you mean?”
“Why aren’t there any enemy soldiers inside the castle? I cannot fathom that the soldiers we fought outside would be the entire force stationed at this castle. And if you were captured alongside Lord Ephraim, why were you the only one able to escape your cell? And one more thing… how do you know about the relationship between the Sacred Stone and the bracelet?”
“...Because Lord Fado told me, of course. Seth, you couldn’t have thought that you were the only person Lord Fado confided his secrets in…”
“Well then, you told us you are unarmed, so for what purpose are you hiding a dagger against your chest?”
Eirika turned towards Orson.
He was wearing plain clothing that unquestionably looked like that of a prisoner, and he did not look like he could possibly be hiding a weapon anywhere. 
‘You are mistaken!’ she tried to cut in and say, but Orson whispered under his breath, “Of course… You’re as sharp as ever, Seth. If she had been alone, I would have easily been able to deceive the princess… But of course, you got in my way.”
“Orson…?” Orson’s voice was so cold and full of malice that Eirika instinctively hid behind Seth. 
Seth asked calmly, “Sir Orson… No, there’s no need to show you respect anymore, is there? Orson, why did you betray Renais?”
“For him.” A small smile appeared on his face. He was not panicking over the fact that his betrayal had been found out, rather, his eyes glittered with happiness.
"’For him…?’ You mean the Grado Empire?"
"He granted my wish. For my wife… for my Monica to come home to me once again."
"Orson, what in the world are you…?" EIrika’s words were cut short when she heard the sound of footsteps echo from behind her.
She turned around, and saw several well-dressed men. 
The middle-aged man standing as the leader said in a polite voice that was obviously fake, "You did well, Orson. I will take it from here. You may return to your beloved wife."
Orson nodded slightly and quickly walked away without once looking back on Eirika's army.
"Who are you?" Seth asked.
The man sounded high and mighty as he answered, "My name is Tirado. I am General Valter's aide."
"Valter? Of course...!" Just thinking about that wyvern riding general's face and his creepy snake-like eyes made Eirika’s entire body shiver.
“I was ordered to capture the princess, however… you troublesome lot tagged along with her. No matter. Lord Valter likes warriors with guts."
Eirika, still looking in the direction Orson had disappeared in, asked, "...Where is Brother?"
Strangely, she did not feel hate for him well up inside of her. Though his betrayal had led to her brother's capture, she could not bring herself to hate him. And that was all because of the blissful expression he had shown before he left.
It worried her. He'd mentioned his wife, but what did that mean? Perhaps Grado had taken her hostage?
"If it's Prince Ephraim you are talking about, he isn't here." Tirado waved his hand in disgust. “He was so stubborn… He shook off Lord Valter’s pursuit, and escaped from this castle.”
"Then that means Brother is…" Her voice lifted despite their current situation.
He had been safe this whole time. The news that he was captured was completely false.
All of the tension built up in her body vanished in an instant. She felt as if she had seen him with her own eyes swinging around his giant lance and breaking through a wave of soldiers surrounding him.
“But there is no point in getting excited. Prince Ephraim may have escaped, but you will die here. Do not worry that you will be lonely, as your brother will join you in heaven soon enough…” The man turned toward his subordinates and ordered, “Tear down the bridge! Cut off their only escape route!”
Eirika and Seth turned around to see who was standing behind them. They saw Ross, Joshua, and then Lute. Everyone else was still fighting outside.
Ross gripped his axe and glared at Tirado, while Joshua was swiftly confirming the number of enemies. Lute was as calm as always.
It would be rash to raid the castle with such small numbers. If the bridge fell, they would be cut off from all of their other allies. She was unsure that they could sneak around the castle and take on all the enemies in this small of a group.
However, the noise coming from the area around the castle gate was getting louder and louder. Tirado furrowed his brow in displeasure. 
One of his men rushed up to him. “I apologize, Sir Tirado! We tried to lower the bridge, but it was too late… the enemy had already rushed inside the castle!”
“What’s this…? An obnoxious group of uninvited guests has arrived…?”
“Stand down! They are gathering strength. It is dangerous here!” Said a voice that reached Eirika’s ears. 
Next came the sound of many sets of footsteps jumbling together, then the sound of blades clashing.
Eirika unsheathed her sword. Seth and the others had already started fighting. Tirado panicked and ran inside the castle.
It was much more important to regroup with their allies first than take him out. Eirika and the others gave up on trying to chase him, and hurried out to the castle gate.
“So, is this your first backstabbing?” Joshua asked as they ran.
Eirika bit her lip and nodded.
“Well, I think it’s a good experience. The worst thing you can do is drag out the pain.”
“...Were you betrayed by someone?”
“It happens to me all the time. I’ve been in the mercenary business for many years. You can’t trust anyone besides yourself.” He burst out into a cheerful laugh.
Eirika realized that she was still shaking over what had happened with Orson, and Joshua was trying to cheer her up. It surprised her. She didn’t think that he was the type of person to notice such a thing.
“...I need to apologize to you, Joshua.” She found herself saying.
Joshua raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“You must have noticed, right? I doubted you. I thought that you might turn back to Grado.”
“Yeah, but that’s fine. You can’t trust someone like a mercenary. Don’t worry about it. I’m used to being the object of suspicion.”
“I trust you now. You’re different from Orson. You have honest eyes.”
He seemed to not be used to being praised. He shrugged his shoulders as if it were a joke.
The area around the castle gate was currently the site of a gruesome battle. Eirika noticed that Colm was at the forefront of it.
 “Hey, you’re okay! You disappeared so fast that I thought you died!”
“You came to help? Thank you…”
“Sure, but not really! I heard there’s a ton of treasure in this castle, so I just wanted to try sneakin’ in…”
“Save the chatting for later, kid!” Joshua cut him off. 
Colm didn’t even notice it, but Joshua swiftly moved in to kill an enemy that was trying to attack Colm from behind. 
Colm didn’t seem to like being called “kid,” as he ran back over to Neimi with an irritated look on his face.
Just then, they heard a voice say “The bridge has fallen!” from the direction of the castle gate. Tirado’s men seem to have finally been able to carry out his order. Eirika’s army no longer had an escape route.
In a battle where the difference in numbers gave one side an overwhelming disadvantage, the most important factor was determining when to retreat. However, that was not an option for this battle. The only way they could win was by defeating all of the soldiers in the castle.
Eirika’s army put up a good fight, but the enemy continued to close in on them. The soldiers they’d defeated outside of the castle had likely been decoys to draw them towards the castle, as the soldiers hidden inside the castle were far greater in both numbers and strength.
The allies she could see around her were starting to tire out, and there were so many injured that Natasha and the other healers could not keep up. It was only a matter of time before the battle was decided… No matter who she looked at, everyone had fatigued and impatient expressions on their faces.
As she wondered how much time had passed since the battle started, she heard a commotion break out from inside the castle. It was now not just around the gate, but also  inside the castle that something was going on.
Was this a good sign, or a bad sign for her army? She strained her ears, and the first voice that she heard made her entire body freeze.
“That’s the prince of Renais! Get him!” Someone screamed.
She lost all strength in her sword arm, and forgot what was going on, standing frozen in place.
Surely she heard wrong. Tirado told them that Ephraim had fled, right? He shouldn't be in the castle.
However, Franz rushed up to her, completely out of breath, and confirmed that she was not imagining things. "Princess Eirika! Did you hear that!? That voice from inside the castle!"
"Y… Yes. It sounded like he said… the prince."
"I heard it, too! Lord Ephraim is inside this castle!"
"But Brother… he…" She had no time to think about it. The enemies were closing in on her, one after the other. Strength once again flowed through her tired body.
'Brother is here. And very close to us.' She had no idea what was going on, but at the very least, he was in the same building as her.
The news that the prince was in the castle spread like a ripple, and not only did it surprise her allies, but also her enemies.
Many even screamed "Impossible!" and their faces stiffened.
Eirika's army was reenergized. There were a lot of people among them that weren’t even sure what he looked like, but what they did know is that Eirika had fought all of their difficult battles so far for him, so the news that he was close by gave them strength.
Eirika ran towards the source of the noise. She cut down every enemy that tried to block her path, shoving all of her exhaustion aside and continuing to move.
After passing through several rooms, she burst into the southern corridor and found a familiar figure standing with his back to her.
“Forde!” She cried.
The young man, with his long, blonde hair tied up in a simple ponytail, whirled around.
Though he had chiseled features, his expression was as aloof as always, to the point that he even looked naïve. He really was Forde, one of Ephraim’s most trusted knights.
When his eyes met Eirika’s he burst out laughing, then ran over to her with open arms.
“Lady Eirika! We knew you’d be here!”
“Forde… what about Brother? Is he with you…?”
“Of course he is! He’s chasing after some enemies. He’s been running around for a while… Lord Ephraim! I found her! Lady Eirika is here!”
A response came almost immediately when a young man came running from around the next corner. He had a lance in his hands, and his hair was disheveled. He was indeed none other than Prince Ephraim of Renais, and his eyes lit up when he saw his little sister’s face. “Eirika! Are you okay?”
“Brother… I should be the one… asking you that…” Her voice got caught in her throat, and tears began to pour down her face. 
Ephraim laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I certainly am! And better than ever!”
“I heard you were being held in Renvall Castle… It worried me so much...”
“Did that creep Valter tell you that? Do you really think a man like him could capture me?”
“We were in a pretty rough spot.” Forde leisurely cut in. 
The serious young man standing behind Ephraim glared at him. He was of course Forde’s partner, Kyle, who also followed Ephraim wherever he went.
Ephraim frowned and nodded. “I mean… it is true that we were almost captured, but we struggled and managed to break through Valter’s men. Then, we were going to continue sneaking through Grado territory to retaliate against the Grado emperor, but we heard rumors that you were in this area, so we came back here.”
“But how? From what I understand, the bridge to the castle should be torn down…”
“We’ve been hiding in here since morning. We blended in with the Grado soldiers.” Ephraim laughed so hard as he reminisced on it that his shoulders shook.
Forde cut into the conversation once more. ”And this isn't the first time he's been so daring, either. We attacked the guards and stole their armor and helmets, then waltzed right in here like it was nothing. We were scared half to death. I mean, it was fun too, but…”
“We waited for an opportunity, then caused an uproar the moment we heard that an army led by the princess of Renais was attacking.” Ephraim smiled from ear to ear and ran a hand through Eirika’s hair. “I couldn’t believe that you were leading an army and attacking an impregnable fortress.”
“It wasn’t by my power. I had help from Seth… and everyone else.” Eirika turned around. Everyone was standing around her from a few feet away and waiting to see what she would say.
Eirika noticed that Franz was among them and having a difficult time staying back, so she waved him over.
He stepped forward and first bowed deeply to Ephraim before greeting Forde.
“Have you been well, Brother? I was worried.”
“Yeah, and you look full of energy yourself! Were you able to be of some help to Lady Eirika?”
“Yes… I think so.” He nodded shyly.
“...Did he just say “Brother?” Ross asked in disbelief. 
He studied them both for a minute, then his eyes widened. Though their personalities were totally different, they had many of the same facial features. “Franz, you have an older brother!? And he’s even a knight serving the prince! You never told me a word about him, did you!?”
“I didn’t really think it was necessary to…”
“Why not? You were worried about him, right?”
“Yeah, I was, but… we were marching all this time to save Prince Ephraim, weren’t we? I didn’t think it was necessary to talk about my family.”
Ross didn’t seem to understand how Franz felt. “You really are weird!” He said with a tilt of his head.
Forde laughed out loud. “He is very serious. It makes him pretty weird even within our family.”
“I think that between the two of us, you’re the weird one, Brother, but...:”
“Anyway, you seem to have become quite the knight yourself, so I’m happy. I want to see just how much you’ve grown. Come with me.” Forde immediately ran off. 
Franz panicked and chased after him.
Eirika refocused her mind. “We’re going too, Brother! There are still enemies left to fight. We’ll have to enjoy our reunion after the battle.”
“Yeah. You’ve become so brave, Eirika. Even though it’s only been a few months since we parted, I hardly recognize you.” 
“Please don’t tease me…” She told him, but within his smile was only happiness. She felt as if all the sadness and suffering she’d experienced until now was already entirely gone.
Eirika and the others ventured deeper within Renvall Castle. The enemy army was in turmoil over the appearance of Prince Ephraim, and the soldiers were all very agitated. Towards the end, some even dropped their weapons and fled.
By that evening, Renvall Castle had been completely seized by Eirika’s army.
They defeated Tirado, then Eirika once again ran over to her brother.
Even Seth showed a smile of satisfaction unlike any that he’d made since their journey had begun. “What’s most important of all is that you are safe, Lord Ephraim.”
“Yeah, I really made you worry, didn’t I? Thank you for protecting Eirika, Seth. When I think of what might have happened if it wasn’t for you, it sends a chill down my spine.”
Eirika looked up at him, feeling the exact same way, but Seth was being straight to the point. He quickly changed the subject.
“More importantly, Prince Ephraim, I’d like to ask you about Orson. I’ve been wondering why he betrayed Renais.”
“...I don’t know. I still can’t believe it.” Ephraim’s eyes clouded over. “It was because of his communication with Grado that our movements were leaked to them. Whenever I think that if I had noticed it sooner, then I should have been able to lower the number of sacrifices, I blame myself.”
“Orson was known as a knight who was twice as serious and loyal as any other man. Of course you trusted him. For him to betray us…”
“He chose the Grado Empire over me, right? Though I hate to say it, it is because I am still so inexperienced.” Ephraim looked up at the ceiling. 
“No, he…” Seth’s words were cut off before he could finish them.
Eirika followed his line of sight, and was surprised to see a child she did not know standing there. She was a young girl who looked completely out of place on this bleak battlefield, and had an innocent face.
She’d likely been hiding somewhere within the castle during the battle. She tiptoed over  towards Ephraim with a nervous look on her face. 
When he noticed her, Ephraim said to her in a kind voice, “Oh, Myrrh! I’m sorry I left your side. But the battle is over now. The Grado soldiers are no longer here. You can relax.”
Though his words were soothing, the girl's unsure expression did not change. She simply looked up at Ephraim with eyes that conveyed a look of pure and genuine trust.
Her hair was a rare indigo color. Eirika felt as if it reminded her of something, but she could not remember what.
She tugged gently on Ephraim's sleeve to get his attention, then said, "...Something is coming from over there."
"Hm? What is it?"
"It is black… and big... and there are many of them…" She whispered, her voice shaky, while looking towards the window.
Eirika looked out it as well, but only saw a partially cloudy sky. “Brother, who is she?”
“Her name is Myrrh, and I met her during my travels… Sorry, but it’s a long story. I can take my time explaining later. For now, we should move out of this castle quickly.”
“Yes… But…” The soldiers were tired, and it had been a long time since they’d slept in a decent place with a roof, so she wanted to let them relax at the castle for at least one night.
But Ephraim shook his head. “Myrrh’s premonitions are very reliable. If she senses that it is dangerous, we should do what she says.”
‘Brother trusts her so much… just who is this girl? What kind of power could someone who’s still only a child have?’ She wanted to ask him, but he had already walked away, and was giving everyone orders to leave the castle. 
Some people may not have looked happy, but Ephraim didn’t let them get even a single word in.
Eirika’s army left Waterside Renvall just as the sky was beginning to darken.
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photos by Frank Ockenfels
The Long Journey and Intense Urgency of Aaron Sorkin's 'The Trial of the Chicago 7'
by Rebecca Keegan September 23, 2020, 6:00  am PDT
The director of the Netflix film, which stars Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Eddie Redmayne and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, reveals why it took nearly 20 years to get the project about the politically motivated prosecution of protestors made and why it couldn't be more timely: "I never imagined today would go so much like 1968."
In October 2019, hundreds of protesters marched down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue toward the Hilton, chanting phrases like "No justice, no peace!" and "A people united will never be defeated!" as police in riot gear descended on the crowd with billy clubs and tear gas. Earnest and energized, clad in 1960s period costumes and flanked by vintage police vehicles, this group thought they were acting out the past, staging a scene from Aaron Sorkin’s The Trial of the Chicago 7. As it turned out, they were performing the future, too.
Sorkin’s film, which opens in select theaters Sept. 25 and hits Netflix on Oct.  16, tells the story of the riots at the 1968 Chicago Democratic National Convention and the circus-like trial of political activists that followed the next year. Thanks to Hollywood development hell, the movie is arriving 14  years after Steven Spielberg first mentioned the idea to Sorkin but just as its themes and plot points — civil unrest, a self-proclaimed "law and order" president’s vilification of protesters (Nixon then, Trump now), the police’s excessive use of force, tensions within the Democratic Party over how far left to move — have become bracingly current."I never wanted the film to be about 1968," Sorkin says in an interview over Zoom from his house in the Hollywood Hills on Labor Day weekend. "I never wanted it to be an exercise in nostalgia or a history lesson. I wanted it to be about today. But I never imagined that today would get so much like 1968."For only the second time in a career spanning nine films as a screenwriter, Sorkin serves as director with Chicago 7, helming a sprawling ensemble cast that includes Eddie Redmayne as anti-war activist Tom Hayden, Sacha Baron Cohen as Youth International Party (Yippie) provocateur Abbie Hoffman, Succession’s Jeremy Strong as counterculture figure Jerry Rubin and Watchmen’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Black Panther party co-founder Bobby Seale. There are undeniable parallels not only between the film and the present political moment but also between the performance-art activism of the actors and the men they’re playing, most vividly Cohen, who, like Hoffman, has made a career of political self-expression through comedic stunts, including crashing a far-right rally in Olympia, Washington, this summer while pretending to be a racist country singer. (Cohen, who shoots most of his satirical projects incognito, impishly calls reports of his appearance at the rally  "fake news.")Eight months after Sorkin filmed the protest scenes in Chicago, Abdul-Mateen was marching in Black Lives Matter protests in West Hollywood, as was Strong in Brooklyn. "There’s power when a lot of people come together to protest out of anger, out of frustration," Abdul-Mateen says. "Everybody has a role in the revolution; this film shows that.
"Though the movie feels crafted for this political moment, it was born of another. At Sorkin’s first meeting with Spielberg, "I remember him saying, 'It would be great if we could have this out before the election,'" Sorkin says. The election Spielberg was talking about was 2008’s, when Barack Obama and Joe Biden faced John McCain and Sarah Palin.The film hit multiple roadblocks, beginning with the 2007-08 writers strike and continuing as financing faltered repeatedly, a fate illustrated by the more than 30 producers who can claim some sort of credit on Chicago 7. It took another unscheduled detour this summer after Sorkin finished it as the pandemic worsened, and the odds of original distributor Paramount mounting a successful theatrical release before the Nov. 3 election seemed increasingly slim. For some involved with the film, there is a question about the ethics of Hollywood inviting audiences to return to theaters before a COVID-19 vaccine is widely available. "
There’s a moral quandary that we, the motion picture business, have to be careful that we don’t become the tobacco industry, where we’re encouraging people to do something we know is potentially lethal," says Cohen.Before his visit to Spielberg’s Pacific Palisades home to discuss the project on a Saturday afternoon in 2006, Sorkin knew next to nothing about the Chicago 7. The federal government had charged seven defendants — Hoffman, Rubin, Hayden, David Dellinger, Rennie Davis, John Froines and Lee Weiner — with conspiracy for their participation in the protests against the Vietnam War outside the Democratic National Convention. (Originally the men were known as the Chicago 8 and included Seale, who asked to have his trial separated from that of the others and postponed so that he could be represented by his preferred lawyer, who was ill; that trial never took place.)
When Spielberg proposed a movie about the riots and the trial that followed, Sorkin, who was 7 in 1968, said, "'You know, that sounds great. Count me in.' As soon as I left his house, I called my father and said, 'Dad, do you know anything about a riot that happened in 1968 or a crazy conspiracy trial that followed?' I was just saying yes to Steven."Despite his ignorance, Sorkin was a logical choice to write the project: Having penned Broadway’s A Few Good Men and its 1992 film adaptation as well as the long-running NBC series West Wing, he’d shown a flair for dramatizing courtroom procedures and liberal politics, and he turned in his first draft of the Chicago 7 script in 2007. Originally, Spielberg planned to direct the project himself, but by the time the writers strike was over, he had moved on and a number of other potential directors circled, including Paul Greengrass, Ben Stiller, Peter Berg and Gary Ross, though none was able to get it off the ground. "There was just a feeling that, 'Look, this isn’t an Avengers film,'" Sorkin says of the studios' move away from midbudget dramas and toward action tentpoles in the 2010s. "This isn’t an easy sell at the box office. And there are big scenes, riots, crowd scenes. How can this movie be done for the budget that makes sense for what the expectation is at the box office?"As the project languished, Sorkin tried writing it as a play, ultimately spending 18 months on a fruitless effort to fashion a stage treatment. "What I didn’t like was having a script in my drawer," he says. "I was just thinking, 'Jeez, this is a good movie and it feels like it’s stillborn.'"It was the confluence of two events that ultimately revived the film with Sorkin in the director’s chair in 2018 — the 2016 election of Donald Trump and the 2017 release of Sorkin’s well-received directorial debut, Molly’s Game, which doubled its production budget at the box office. "This is before George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and police protests or confrontations," Sorkin says. "This is just when Donald Trump was musing nostalgically about the old days when they used to carry that guy [a protester] out of here on a stretcher and punch the crap out of him."With Trump’s throwback rhetoric lending the subject matter a new timeliness and Sorkin’s directing chops confirmed in Spielberg’s eyes, the movie moved forward with its screenwriter at the helm.
Cross Creek Pictures came in to finance, and Paramount bought the domestic rights. But all those years in development had left an expensive imprint on the project — a jaw-dropping $11  million had been spent on casting costs, producing fees and the optioning of Brett Morgen’s 2007 documentary about the event, Chicago 10, leaving just $24  million for the actual 36-day production.
One way Sorkin attempts to achieve a sense  of scope despite that budget is by intercutting real black-and-white news footage with his dramatized protests. He rounded out his large cast with a deep bench of experienced and award-winning actors including Oscar winner Mark Rylance as defense attorney William Kunstler, Oscar nominee Frank Langella as Judge Julius Hoffman, Joseph Gordon-Levitt as prosecutor Richard Schultzand, Oscar nominee Michael Keaton as former U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark — with the filmmaker and many of his actors working for scale. (Abdul-Mateen and Strong both became first-time Emmy winners Sept.  20.)Sorkin shot the protest scenes on location in Chicago and built a courtroom set in an old church sanctuary in Paterson, New Jersey, because none of the available courtroom locations in the Garden State conveyed the scope he wanted. "If we’re saying the whole world is watching, I want a packed courtroom for six months full of press and spectators," Sorkin says. "I wanted the big, cavernous feeling of the federal government and its power coming down on these people."
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Julian Wasser/The LIFE Images Collection via Getty Images/Getty Images           "The movie is tribute to the bravery of the protesters of 1968 [pictured] and today in Belarus, on the streets of America, in Portland," says Cohen.            
Among the vestiges of Spielberg’s original plan was the casting of Cohen as Hoffman, which required the London native to affect a Boston accent and return to a subject he had studied as an undergraduate at Christ’s College in Cambridge, where he wrote a thesis paper about Jewish activists during the civil rights movement. At 19, Cohen had interviewed Bob Moses, the leader of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, which Hoffman was involved in before he founded the anti-war Yippie movement. "Honestly, I was very proud of the fact that Jews were involved in the Black civil rights movement in the '60s, and there wasn’t much written about it," Cohen says, explaining his youthful scholarship.
There’s a clear line to draw between Hoffman’s 1960s theatrics — which included throwing fistfuls of money into the gallery of the New York Stock Exchange and vowing to levitate the Pentagon — and Cohen’s contemporary TV and film pranks. Perhaps among Cohen’s most memorable and pointed gags was getting Vice President Dick Cheney to gleefully autograph a waterboard kit, which the comic did while posing as an admiring Israeli anti-terror expert for a 2018 episode of Who Is America?, his Showtime series. “What I wanted to do was to show that he was proud of torturing," Cohen says. "I could not believe how happy Cheney was to be sitting next to an uber-fan. So, yes. Ultimately in the shows and the movies that I do, I’m trying to be funny, but yeah, I’m trying to get out the anger that I have within me."
Cohen sees Hoffman’s unorthodox protest methods as pragmatic. "The Yippies were underfunded, and he was using theatricality to gain attention for his aims," Cohen says. "He wanted to stop the war. And how do you do that? You use stunts and absurdist humor to try to effect change." The actor estimates that, after researching Hoffman, he pitched Sorkin hundreds of lines the activist had really delivered. "As an annoying person with a lot of chutzpah, I was emailing Aaron every other night until morning, 'What about this line? What about this line?'" Cohen says. The writer-director, known for his exacting prose, politely tolerated the suggestions while largely sticking to his own script.
As Rubin, Strong is playing Hoffman’s conscientious jester sidekick, a role wildly different from the tragic, wealthy approval seeker he portrays on Succession. Strong added some of his own dramatic flourishes, including painting words on his chest for one courtroom scene and bringing a remote-controlled fart machine to disrupt Langella’s imperious judge. "I wanted to channel as much as possible that spirit of the merry prankster and of joyous dissent," Strong says. Hoffman and Rubin’s real-life personae were so large that Sorkin at times asked his actors to dial down their faithful portrayals, requesting, after one particularly jubilant take, "less cowbell."
Sorkin’s script draws a sharp contrast between Hoffman and Rubin’s campy methods and Hayden’s more reserved approach to the anti-war movement, with the tensions between Hoffman and Hayden supplying the film’s key relationship in a kind of begrudging brotherhood of the peace movement. To learn more about Hayden, Redmayne studied remarks that Jane Fonda, who was married to the activist and politician from 1973 to 1990, made upon his death in 2016. In his own life, Redmayne is cautious when it comes to discussing the role that he, as an actor at the center of a huge studio franchise (Warner Bros.’ Fantastic Beasts) might have in political life. "I find it endlessly challenging," Redmayne says of navigating his public activism. "There’s the elitist thing. It’s speaking up on climate change but being conscious that you’re traveling a lot. One has to be aware of one’s own hypocrisies, because they can be detrimental to something you believe in. So sometimes I find that I have to live my life and speak to my advocacy in a way in that it’s around friends, family and people I know rather than making something public."
Abdul-Mateen has begun his acting career largely associated with fantastical roles, like Dr. Manhattan on HBO’s Watchmen, Black Manta in Aquaman and Candyman in the upcoming Jordan Peele-produced remake of the slasher film. Playing Seale represented a chance to do more grounded work and to depict a man who had loomed large during Abdul-Mateen’s childhood in Oakland, where Seale co-founded the Black Panthers in 1966 and later ran for mayor. Seale’s inclusion in the original Chicago riots indictment was controversial and strange — prosecutors accused him of conspiring with men he’d never met after visiting Chicago that week for only a few hours to deliver a speech. For the prosecution, Seale functioned largely as a prop to tap into the fears of white jurors and white Americans watching the news coverage, and during the trial he had no attorney. "I wanted to key in on, how did Bobby Seale survive this trial?" Abdul-Mateen says. "How did he survive the gross mistreatment by the United States government, and how did he go through that with his head high and not be broken? It was an exercise in finding my pride, finding my dignity."
In one scene, Seale is brought into the courtroom bound and gagged, and throughout the trial he is kept separate from the white defendants. "Although it was meant to be a humiliating act, I walked out with my chest high, with my head high. Bound and gagged and everything else. It would be very dangerous for a Black man in that time, even sometimes today, to show the proof of the wear and tear that oppression can take on a person, because that can be seen as a sign of weakness, and a sign of weakness is an open door that it’s working." For the moments of lightness that Cohen and Strong bring to the movie, Abdul-Mateen supplies ballast. "It’s important for the right reasons and at the right time to make art that makes people uncomfortable," he says.
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Niko Tavernise/NETFLIX. On the set, from left, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Mark Rylance, Ben Shenkman, Aaron Sorkin and Eddie Redmayne
Spielberg has remained involved in the film "in an emeritus role," Sorkin says, "from giving me good script notes to casting to notes on early cuts of the film." He also showed up to the New Jersey courtroom set. "When you have to direct a scene in front of Steven Spielberg, you’re not at your most relaxed necessarily," Sorkin says. Spielberg did not, however, take an executive producing credit on the film and declined to be interviewed about it.
The decision to switch to a streaming release came after an early summer marketing strategy call between Sorkin, Paramount chief Jim Gianopulos, other Paramount execs and some of the film’s producers. "At the end of the call, Jim said, 'Listen, we don’t know what the theater business is going to look like in the fall. We have troubling data telling us that the first people back in movie theaters are going to be the people who think that the coronavirus is a hoax,'" Sorkin says. This was clearly not the intended audience for a movie whose heroes are liberal activists. "I said, 'I don’t think the Idaho militia are going to be the first people coming to this movie,'" Sorkin says.
The group agreed to explore alternatives and gave Netflix, Amazon, Apple and Hulu 24 hours to watch the film. After a bidding war, Chicago 7 landed at Netflix in a $56  million deal against its $35  million production budget, with a robust marketing campaign and promise of a theatrical release. "We knew we didn’t have the option of 'Let’s wait a year,'" Sorkin says. "This is what we’re thinking about and what we’re talking about right now, and it just would have been a real shame to not release it now."
After Chicago 7 opens in limited release, Netflix will add more theaters in the U.S. and abroad throughout October, expanding upon the film’s premiere on the service, a strategy akin to what it provided Oscar best picture nominees The Irishman and Roma, albeit in a wildly different theatrical environment.
As Hollywood opens up to more production, Sorkin, and many of the Chicago 7 actors, have begun returning to work. Abdul-Mateen has been in Berlin for The Matrix 4 and Redmayne in London for Fantastic Beasts 3, while Sorkin is shooting a West Wing reunion special at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown L.A. that will premiere on HBO Max in October as a fundraiser for When We All Vote and include video appearances by Michelle Obama, Bill Clinton and Lin-Manuel Miranda
For the real-life Chicago 7, the denouement consisted of ultimately being acquitted of conspiracy. Judge Hoffman sentenced Seale to four years in prison for contempt of court, one of the longest sentences ever handed down for that offense in the U.S., but those charges were overturned on appeal. Just three of the original eight defendants — Seale, Froines and Weiner — are still alive, but the legacy of the case lives on in contemporary protest movements. "The movie is tribute to the bravery of the protesters of 1968 and the protesters of today in Belarus, on the streets of America, in Portland," Cohen says. "These people now are risking their lives, and they’ll continue risking them."
https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/features/the-trial-of-the-chicago-7-aaron-sorkin-and-stars-on-films-timeliness-to-election-and-why-everybody-has-a-role-in-the-revolution
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