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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years ago

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“You’re not my real mom !” - Batkids x Fem!Reader (Batmom)

Synopsis : A story about those few dreaded words : “You’re not my real mom”, said by the batkids, to you, in a the heat of a moment. And the aftermath of it all...

This has been in my draft for ages. I hope you like it :) :

my masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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DICK

It happened so fast. In a quick moment of anger.

A flash, a bang, words said too quickly to truly realize their meaning.

Dick was frustrated because he felt you didn’t understand him, his point of view. And you were trying to explain to him that it was not okay to...

You know what ?

You couldn’t even remember what he did. As if whatever it was, it was all wiped out of your memory when he pronounced those bone chilling words.

You only remembered you were “scolding” him, just like parents do when their child did something he wasn’t supposed to. You rarely told Dick off, even when he would burst into fits of anger.

You always told him : “When you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son, I love all of you.”

And you meant it. Often, you or Bruce would take the brunt of his anger, without batting an eye. After all, that child went through a lot. It was totally normal for him to lash out at times.

He saw his parents died right in front of him. It wasn’t a trauma that would be solved that fast (Bruce was proof of it). “The magic of love” couldn't simply cure someone who was so deeply hurt. Although it helped, over time.

Yes. Time.

It would take time, and support, for Dick to heal. And you were here for it. Here for him.

But there were times, you had to say something.

Usually, it was when he was being too reckless.

Your son could be overzealous, and go too far. And you were so worried about his safety and wellbeing...Very rarely, you’d have to “scold” him.

And you couldn’t even remember what you were lecturing him about that evening (even if you had an idea it was about being a little more careful). All you remembered was...

“You’re not even my real mom ! You can’t tell me anything !”

And him turning away from you, crossing his arms and refusing to look your way. Which was good anyway, because you were an instant mess.

“Ok”, you managed to say, wondering how the hell you were able to get the words out. And then you left. Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. And your heart slowly breaking.

Bruce found you two later, both clearly feeling down...

Dick stayed quiet the entire time they were on patrol, and Bruce instantly knew something was wrong. He wasn’t there during your fight, and he only arrived when you were already gone, surprised that you went to bed so early in the night, and didn’t stay with your son downstairs until it was time for patrol...

The man didn’t push the boy, waiting for him to open up if he wanted to. And as usual, Dick did finally speak up. In a weak voice, as they were surveying the city from a rooftop, he said :

“I told her she wasn’t my real mom...”

“Ah.”

Bruce felt the urge to go back home and console you, knowing that you were certainly a mess, right now. But he had to take care of his boy, too.

And oh, oh Dick looked so crestfallen and sad as the meaning of his words slowly etched into his mind.

“I told her she wasn’t-she wasn’t-but she is I just-I-I don’t know why I said that-I...”

The little one was on the verge of tears, and Bruce understood why.

He probably understood more than anyone else.

He told Alfred “You’re not my dad !” more than once, and remembered how even the stoic butler looked, whenever he said it.

He remembered the hurt in his eyes, the resignation too. The “very well sir”, said in a neutral manner, but the stiff way he’d left the room.

It took Bruce a while, to finally realize that Alfred WAS his father. That he raised him, most definitely. And was always there for him during the hard times.

That he even helped and supported him, when he came back after disappearing for years, saying : “I’m going to dress up as a bat and wipe crimes from Gotham”. ...How many parents would be that understanding, eh ?

Alfred knew Bruce. And always tried to do his best for him. So whenever Bruce would yell at him that he “wasn’t his father”, it hurt.

Bruce knew it. He noticed how Alfred’s entire demeanor would change. He’d see a light go out in his eyes.

“Very well, sir.”, a small bow, and the stiffness of his body as he left...

And Bruce remembered.

The guilt and the pain he felt himself, as he regretted ever saying those words. As he knew they were going to hurt, which is why he said them in the first place.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt his adopted father, oh no. It was that sometimes he just...He just felt so angry ! Like everything was unfair ! And he missed his parents so much !

It was a force stronger than him, he wanted Alfred to leave him alone, and pushed him away...”You’re not my dad !”. So yes. Bruce understood little Dickie. He understood you, too. He knew how you must’ve felt, he saw it enough happening to Alfred.

Once you’d get home, he would take care of you. But right now, he had to care for his son.

Right here, on one of Gotham’s rooftop, the scary and mighty Batman slowly kneeled down, and took his boy in his arms, holding him tightly.

Dick didn’t need more to throw his arms around his father’s shoulders, and hold him strongly too, with all his nine years old strength, sobbing slowly.

Bruce drew soothing circles on his back, and whispered :

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok. It’s ok. Calm down, things are going to be ok.”

Your husband lost count of the time passing. Were they there, holding each others while Dick was sobbing uncontrollably, for ten minutes, or for ten hours ? He didn’t know. And he didn’t budge.

His son needed him. Just like once, he needed Alfred...

Dick fell asleep in his arms, and that night, Bruce came home early.

Not like he was going to stay out anyway, knowing you were probably devastated, all alone in your room...

************

Dick fell into a deep sleep, and didn’t budge one bit even as Bruce came down the building, rode home, and put him into bed.

Bruce’s guess was that all the pent up feelings truly exhausted him. Also, he knew that crying could be tiring. And freeing, in a way.

Putting the boy’s blanket all the way up to his chin, Bruce laid a kiss on his forehead and then rushed to your shared bedroom...

You had cried too, but you were not asleep.

Your eyes were puffy and red, and your cheeks marked with your tears. You seemed surprised, when he came in, and looked at the clock.

It was only midnight ?

“Hello, my love.”

He sat down next to you, and from the way he ran his fingers through your hair, and caressed your cheek, wiping the salty tears from it...You knew he knew.

He knew how devastated you felt. How those simple words that would mean nothing for many, truly wounded you.

He knew how much you loved that boy, how as soon as your eyes laid on his little face that terrible night he lost his parents, you felt like he was going to be your son one day.

He knew how much you’d sacrifice for that kid’s happiness, how far you’d go to keep him safe...And so, how hurtful him telling you you weren’t his real mother must’ve felt.

There was no need for words.

He knew what to do. He laid next to you, and you just cuddled up to him, letting him wrap you up in his warm embrace.

He drew those same soothing circles on your back than he did on Dick’s. And whispered :

“He didn’t mean it. He truly didn’t. He loves you, you know. I love you too.”

You fell asleep to his words of love and reassurance, finally letting go after hours of not being able to sleep, reenacting the terrible scene in your head over and over again, making yourself feel worst each times.

************

You woke up around 4 am, with Bruce’s arms wrapped around you.

He was asleep and escaping his grasp (without Alfred’s help) took you a little bit..but you managed to leave without waking him up.

He did groan a little at the loss of your warmth, and grabbed your pillow to hold it against his chest. Which was extremely cute, and oh how glad you were to be the only one to see this side of him.

You went down to the kitchen and...

Dick was coming from the other door, opposite to the one you took.

The kitchen had three access. Two doors facing each others, and one on the third wall. The door you took was because you got a little lost and did a detour through the drawing room. Dick, however, came from the door you should’ve come from too, which was the one you accessed from the West Wing third corridors, which was directly under your bedroom, and Dick’s.

The boy probably stood up a little after you, and while you got lost in your own home (again), he took the normal way and...

Boom. Here you both were, arriving in the kitchen at the same time.

There was a small silence. Awkward. And...

Your heart tightened.

Dick was sort of cowering backward in fear. Fear of what ?

Oh. But of course.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Bruce whispered to you many times, before you fell asleep. And the way Dick looked at you, worry in his eyes...He was thinking you were mad at him. And the regret in his pupils was as obvious as that fact.

“Ice cream ?”

You ask him. His eyes widen a bit, and you can almost see the gears in his brain trying to piece everything together. You’re...not mad at him ?

Of course you’re not. You felt sad, and lost, and hurt, yes. But never did you feel any hint of anger. Of course not.

You take out his favorite flavor from the freezer, and settle a bowl in front of one of the high stool around the counter.

At that time, Dick was so tiny. A very short little bean. And he’d stay small for a long time, only having a sudden spurt when he was around fifteen.

He climbed onto the stool, and watched you as you gave him some ice cream and a spoon, and then sat down next to him to eat some as well.

The silent was slowly turning less awkward.

Slowly, and unsurely, Dick picked his spoon up and looked at you. And completely missed his mouth, the ice cream spreading on his cheek instead.

You turn around to look at him, ice cream on his cheek, and he’s clearly embarrassed, as a tint of color slowly rises on his face.

You don’t really know why, but something snaps in you and you start laughing. And laughing. And laughing.

Because honestly, the kid missing his mouth as he picked his spoon up full of ice cream, is kinda funny right ? And also, all the tension and stress you felt suddenly broke with this simple, silly thing.

Unsure at first, Dick just looked at you. But your laughter quickly spread to him, and soon enough, you both were bursting out in laughter.

Anyone not knowing what happened, would probably think you were both crazy, laughing that hard for no apparent reasons.

Instinctually, you ruffle his hair and Dick gasps. You really weren’t mad at him ?!

You realized what you did, and slowly, both your laughter subsided. There was a small silence as Dick stared at you, and you stared back, and then :

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it !”

He says in a small voice, and he can’t add anything else as you just pick him up and hold him tight against your heart, and you say :

“I know.”

And it’s all he needs to realize you’re not really mad at him, and although he messed up and hurt you, right now, you were both on the path of recovery...

Next morning, Bruce woke up alone in bed, which greatly distressed him as usual (he often woke up first). But a gut feeling was telling him that...

He found you asleep with Dick in his bed, holding him tightly.

************

After that event, you sat down with him, so you could have a serious talk about the underlining issue this raised. Talk about something important.

“Little bird, you know I love you, right ?”

He nods, but still cannot speak quite yet, doesn’t have the energy to.

“I want you to understand something. Something vital. Are you listening ?”

He nods again, his eyes fixed on you. And he’s listening, oh he definitely is.

“It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to lash out. It’s ok to not be alright. It’s ok to make mistakes.”

He nods, a little slower than before, and you can see his eyes slowly becoming wetter and wetter.

“It’s ok. It really is. I’m here. And I love you. Even when you don’t want me around. Even when you push me away. I’m here. And I always will be. Ok ?”

He nods one last time, unable to hold his tears, and then his little arms latch around you, and he refuses to let go for well over an hour...

Oh. Sweet, sweet boy.

Your son.

************

Even now, at age twenty seven, Dick still often think about this day. And the regrets are as burning as they were back then.

He often thought about it.

Whenever you did something for him, went out of your way to make him happy, or were just there for him, always...

He’d have a flashback of this day, and feel nothing but regret and anger at his younger self.

And then you’d read him like an open book. Know exactly what he was thinking, and would slowly shake your head, and say : “I know I often said that, but I will say it till the day I die if I need to : when you came into my life, you changed everything. And I love all of you little bird. Not just when you’re joking around and smiling. But also when you get angry, and lash out. You are my son. I love all of you. Even when you’re a little bit of a jerk.” and you’d wink at him, making him chuckle and feel a surge of affection toward you.

Kind of like the ones you’d feel sometimes. A sudden urge to hug your family, to tell them what they mean to you. Both you and Dick understood since a long time that with the life you all lead, you never knew what could happen, and should never waste a “I love you” if you felt like saying it.

Well, the apple never fall far from the tree ?

Yes. Because you were his mom. And nothing would ever change his mind on that. Ever.

JASON

"Well Jason, you did it you idiot !”

He says to himself in the mirror, and oh he could’ve punch himself if it was possible. He took his desk chair, and threw it across his bedroom, letting out a scream of frustration.

He went to his desk, and threw everything that was on it on the floor. He then went to his book shelves and...

There. Your book. The one you wrote for him.

Jason fell to his knee, holding his head in his hands, crying softly.

Yes. Yes he did it...He ruined this one chance life gave him to have parents.

He hurt one of the person that meant the most to him, one of the person he loved the most...His mom. You.

Because you were his mom, no matter what he told you, in that moment of anger as you scolded him after he did something dangerous during one of his patrol.

He hadn’t been allowed to go out for long, by then. And Bruce had already scolded him before for the very same thing, so when you did it too, he had enough and...it happened before he could think about it.

He was angry, about the lack of trust and about the sermons, and his brain tried to hurt without even thinking about it. Triggered by years of living in the streets, where he had to think quick and act right away, and then suffer the consequences. If he wasn’t fast enough, it could be the end of him...

A gut reaction triggered by years of being all on his own, having to fend for himself. His brain went into overdrive, “hurt” is what it set into motion.

“You’re not my mom !”

And that was it...

As he saw your face fell, and his father’s face turn angry, he knew. He knew he messed up. He messed everything up, as usual !

“Jason !”

Bruce called, but Jason wasn’t about to stop. He ran out of the cave, right to his bedroom. Oh, oh but if only he stayed a little longer. He’d realize that his father wasn’t angry, just hurt as well.

Hurt to see the woman he loved being hurt.

Not angry. Ah but being in pain could sometimes look like you are mad ? And Bruce hadn't been able to hide his frown as he heard Jason’s words...

“Let him be, Bruce.”

You say in a weak voice. You knew Jason, you knew sometimes he needed to cool down on his own. That he could be impulsive, but always came around.

Ah. But that time, he needed everything but to be alone.

Because, as he thought he ruined his one chance at having a real family, he thought...

“Better to leave before they throw me away !”

He knew he could never bear to face you and Bruce, as you’d certainly tell him you were “un-adopting” him. Jason saw it happened before. Someone thinking their adopted kid was “too much”, and sending them back.

It was awful, of course. But it happened. For real. And Jason knew that life could really suck...But her couldn’t bear to face you as you’d send him away.

Worst, what if you just send Alfred and that was it ?

No. Jason would leave before you could do that. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t.

Filling his backpack with some clothes, and snacks, he opened his window and slid down the gutter all the way to the ground, and then ran away into the night. Tears trailing down behind him, as he left behind the one place in which he ever felt safe, warm, and loved.

In the meantime, you and Bruce were unaware of that, and slowly falling asleep in each others’ arms... As usual, Bruce was there for you.

************

“Jason ? I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore after you got adopted by dem fancy fellas. Are you here to get some work ?”

“No.”

“Really, why did you come then ?”

“I didn’t, I’m just passing by.”

“Nah, don’t believe it. Once a bad boy, always a bad boy !”

“TAKE IT BACK !”

As he ran away, Jason went back to a place he thought he never would need to. A few intricate alleys, in the Bowery, under the main city.

The Bowery, a filthy underground neighborhood, hell on Earth for many. Although things did improve when Batman started his work a few years back.

“Wow there tiger, relax.”

Jason came in this specific area for only one thing. Retrieve a few items he left behind, thinking he would never need it again because he was leaving behind this life.

He had a hideout, not far. In which he hid some materials to survive in the streets. He thought he probably had to go back to stealing cars’ tires...Although maybe he should change it. Thinking of what happened last time he did this hurt his heart.

He knew that next time he’d get caught stealing tires, the person wouldn’t end up adopting him...Anyway, he didn’t want any other parents but you and Bruce.

And he messed that up so bad, by being so mean to you !

“Listen, it’s not because you got all fancy schmancy that you can talk to me like that. Remember who’s boss in this part of town.”

Batman did a lot of good to the city, but also, by getting rid of some big players in the “crime business”, he allowed small time thugs to climb up the ladders...It felt, at times, like there always was someone to replace whoever Bruce just put behind bars...

The man who was talking to Jason, used to be a small time criminal. Turned boss, when the Batman kept arresting all the people above him. Jason used to “work” for him, bringing him watches or jewelry that he’d exchange against cash.

Damn. He never thought he’d ever see him again... Oh and he definitely didn’t think this through.

As the new boss, who’s name was Johnny Clancy, told him that he’d forever be a “bad boy”, Jason saw red and...getting mad at a crime boss was a bad idea.

Before he could even think about an escape plan, Jason was surrounded by dangerous armed men.

“How dare you talk to me like that ? Mmm. The Waynes adopted you right ? Mmm. They’re loaded. Probably would pay a fortune to get you back uh ? And to think they’re gonna give me a lot of cash to get a little runaway brat back haha. Because that’s what you did right ? You ran away ? As you always did before mm ? You know, I observed you Jason Todd. I saw you run away from anyone getting close. I saw you.”

Jason’s heart didn’t need anyone to push and squiggle the knife he felt in around some more. He had just lost his family. Did he need more reminder that he always fucked up ?!

“They won’t give you any money, they don’t want me anymore...”

But Johnny didn’t believe him, of course. He told two of his thugs to grab the boy, but Jason, by instinct, dropped them to the floor with a few well placed kicks and punches.

And that was enough to unleash Johnny Clancy’s wrath.

See, he was a new boss. He had to assert dominance. And an eight years old kid making a fool of him and his gang ? That wouldn’t go.

So what if he had to off a child ? Anything to keep climbing up, and leave the Bowery’s slums.

************

“Have you seen Jason ?”

Bruce asks you, a few hours after your fight with him.

“What ? No, I thought he was with you ?”

“No, he skipped his training and I thought he might be with you, apologizing for what he said yesterday ? You know, sounds like something he would do.”

“I haven’t seen him since, you know. I thought he was avoiding me...”

“He would never.”

“Bruce...”

“He would never, my love. I know what he said hurt you, but I’m sure he’s regretting it right now. You should go see him, he’s probably sulking in his bedroom. I wouldn’t be surprised if you meet him up the stairs as he comes down to say sorry.”

“Bruce...”

Your husband comes to you, and takes your hands in his.

“You know him. He’s impulsive, and a little abrasive sometimes. But he’s a sweet child. And he regrets his bursts, you know it. Tonight was just tough, we both scolded him, he’s not used to it.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you say “I’m Batman” I’m going to smack you.”

Bruce smiles softly at you, glad he managed to at least made the tension go away a little. He pecks your lips quickly, and watches you as you leave to go to your son’s bedroom.

He was about to go down the Batcave, when you came back, panicked :

“He’s gone ! Jason’s gone !”

Ah. Bruce knew that placing a tracker in his children’s molars was a good idea.

************

“HOW HARD IS IT TO CATCH A FUCKING KID ?!”

Jason runs as fast as he can, without looking back. He managed to break the line of thugs coming at him, and escape in-between to of them who didn’t pull their guns out quite yet.

They were shooting at him. With no hesitation.

Johnny was set on proving he was an unscrupulous boss. To earn everyone’s respect. So what if he had to shoot a kid ? It’d send everyone a message. He’d back off from nothing !

Jason turned in an alley and...Damn it ! He must’ve taken a wrong turn at some point, it had been a while, since he roamed the Bowery’s alleyways...

He was faced by a wall, stuck. And they quickly caught up to him.

“Wooouh, you’re fast kid. And you’re sneaky. Too bad you’re such a brat, I bet you could be a nice addition to our-”

Johnny Clancy never finished his sentence. In fact, he never could properly speak after that night. After getting his jaw broken into a thousand pieces by the Batman’s fist.

Bruce had come down from nowhere, with...you in his arms ?!

This was the first time Jason saw you wear the costume he saw a few times in the Batcave. He thought you wore it only to go to the JLA’s watchtower, to hide your identity. Not that you could actually...fight ?!

And wow, you definitely could hold your own ! You made a few disarming pass, taking the guns away from all the men before they could even react, and letting Bruce finish them off with well placed kicks and punches.

Oh and that night, the Batman unleashed his rage and unforgiveness full force. How dare they touch his son ?!

You didn’t have anything to envy from your husband either, however, as you worked through Johnny’s gang rather fast too.

That night, the both of you exterminated (figure of speech, of course, neither of you ever killed, that was the one big rule...but there were never a rule against breaking a few bones) Johnny Clancy’s gang, who dared to even think of hurting your precious son.

Jason, holding his backpack tight against him, couldn’t believe his eyes. You two came to save him ? But...why ?

He messed up. You’d surely not want him around anymore !

Once Bruce dropped the last man, you rushed to Jason and before he could utter a sound, took him in your arms.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re safe baby, I’m so glad you’re...”

Your voice broke at the end, and you chocked, the emotions too strong and squeezing your throat.

Jason didn’t understand. And through his surprise, he managed to say :

“I thought-I thought you’d never want to see me again, and that you wouldn’t want to be my mom anymore.”

You hold him even tighter, as you feel Bruce get down on his knee and bring the both of you in his arms.

“Oh sweety, never. Never.”

You say, not letting go.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

Your son manage to choke out, before sobbing profusely and holding on to you and Bruce.

“I’m just glad you’re safe...it’s ok, it’s ok it’s already forgotten...”

And it was. As soon as you saw that Jason-That your SON, was missing, you forgot he ever told you “you’re not my mom”. You forgot and it truly didn’t matter anymore, as all you cared about was to find him, and make sure he was safe.

“Jason, oh my little Jason, I’m so glad you’re safe...”

Wether it is a conscious things or not, he returns your embrace fiercely, holding tightly as he looks up at you. It almost feels like he wants to make sure you really are there. And won’t go anywhere. Like everyone else did in his life.

Jason was tired of losing those close to him. Those he cared about. Sometimes, he’d push them away, by fear of getting attached again just for life to rip them away from him. So he held onto you, as you held him back.

Tightly against your heart.

“Mom...”

This was the day Jason Todd realized something very important : He wasn’t alone anymore. He had parents who loved him, and he loved them back.

So much.

And they’d never let him go. Never.

************

Years later, this love he had for you and Bruce, turned out to be the very reason he became “Red Hood”.

From that day he told you : “you’re not my real mom !”, he felt like he belonged. Like finally, the people he loved loved him back. Like he was cherished. And then Bruce didn’t avenge him. He let Joker get away. And you let him do it. You, the people he trusted and loved most in the world, betrayed him...

He felt like he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth Bruce breaking his one rule to avenge him. He wasn’t worth it...He didn’t matter enough.

Jason felt so angry. For years. He wanted to hurt you, to hurt Bruce. To show you what it felt like. What HE felt like.

But Jason has always been a strong one. You knew it. You told him enough times : “you’re a fighter, my Jason. You went through so much, and always came out of it. You lost a lot on the way my little one, but you never give up. You never give up...”

You never give up.

Love.

It’s what drove him to become the Red Hood. It’s what drove him over the edge. What gave him so much pain.

Rather, the feeling of not being loved. The thought all you and Bruce said to him, about how much you cared and loved him, was a lie.

Yes. The thought that you lied about loving him, is what broke him. What made him find every way possible to truly, truly hurt you two.

You never give up.

He was so angry. But he never could quite give up on his family...that’s why he didn’t stay with the Al’ghuls. That why they didn’t keep him.

He could never forget you and Bruce. Move on.

He could never.

Jason was a strong lad. Strong enough to see past his hate and need of revenge. His pain. His deep trauma.

It took a while. But the change came from him. He’s the one that gave you another chance. And it allowed him to realize...nothing was a lie.

And you got your son back.

Because you showed him. You showed him nothing was a lie.

When his dad never gave up on him even as he killed more and more people, and even as Jason saw him completely erase people who used to be close from him as soon as they killed once. When you refused to let him go. When Bruce kept going back, even as he knew Jason would fight him and try to hurt him. When you pleaded with him, even when you knew his answer would be the same...

Jason never gave up.

But you didn’t either.

“You’re not my mom”, are words he never meant. Not even once. Not even when he was the “old” Red Hood, the one that killed mercilessly any criminals, and that was trying to be exactly what Batman wasn’t.

“You’re not my mom”, even at his worst, at a time he suffered greatly, Jason never meant it. He never did.

And ultimately, it’s this filial love, and the love you and Bruce had for him, that brought him back out of the dark pit the Joker pushed him in...

TIM

Tim knew that his overly pragmatic mind sometimes could make him sound tactless. That he had trouble, sometimes, expressing himself properly.

He knew that what he said, although it could be the factual truth, could be perceived as not being very nice...

He knew, yet sometimes, he couldn’t help himself.

“But you’re not my mom.”

He told you that day, as you asked when was the “mother/child day” at school.

Tim’s school had a day each year, during which every mother would come and do different activities with their kids. You did it with Dick and Jason, and it was always great fun, and amazing bonding time.

By then, Tim had been with you and Bruce for over a year now. And he did, see you as his mom. However, he was a little too set, at the time, on rules and specifics. In the “mother/child day” rulebook, it “specifically” said that the actual child’s mother had to come, not the nanny or anyone else.

In Tim’s mind, although he did see you as his mom, he thought the school wouldn’t. For him, the way the rules were written, were clearly stating his birth mother had to come. And the official adoption papers were not processed yet. Those took quite a while.

He had been living with you for over a year. He called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. He truly considered you two his parents. But the official papers were not done quite yet. So to him, in the eye of the law (be it a silly school rule), you weren’t his mom quite yet.

So when he said : “but you’re not my mom”, that’s what he meant. Of course, you misunderstood...

How could you guess that Tim was thinking that only his “birth mother” could take him, because officially right now he didn’t have a mom, just “guardians”...

His mother was dead. Has been dead for a while, now. And even if she wasn’t, Tim knew she’d never come at this event...She wasn’t the caring type of mother. Not like you. Which is why it really bummed him out that those rules were so clearly stated like that !

What Tim misunderstood, is that this specific rule had been added to the rulebook because many family would send their nanny, or a big sister, instead of the mom. Because Tim was of course in Gotham’s Academy, full of rich families, in which the moms were very busy...

Which is why such a day existed. Some kids spend quality times with their mom only on this school day. Nowadays, everyone made an effort to come (the fact you appeared, the famed (Y/N) Wayne, a few years back, with Dick, and it made all the papers’ headlines, might’ve influenced others to participate too).

To tell the truth, Tim was very disappointed that you couldn’t go with him, and was considering asking the principle of the school to do an exception to the rule and allow you to go with him.

He was already fomenting a plan in his head to convince the headmaster to let you come as his mom, and as usual when he was planning things out, he completely disconnected from reality.

And therefor, didn’t see how your face “closed”, and your eyes turned sad. The boy was typing away on his computer, as if nothing had just happened, as if you didn’t feel your world crumble as he flat out told you you weren’t his mom...

Of course, it was all a misunderstanding. He meant it as “officially”. Not about his actual feelings.

For some reason, the way he said it so nonchalantly hurts you more than when Dick and Jason yelled at you that you “weren't their mom”. Because at least, in your eldests’ cases, you knew it was in the heat of the moment.

That it was because they felt frustrated and sad.

But Tim just told you : “But you’re not my mom.” matter of factly, and moved on. And it hurt.

It hurt so much, because that boy...You loved that boy, of course. And considered him your son for sure. Part of your heart, now. Part of your family. And he felt so far, right now...so far...

You left the room and he didn’t even notice.

Did he really not see you as his mom ? Was he just calling you “mom” to imitate his brothers ? ...You didn’t know, but it hurt.

It hurt so much.

************

You found Bruce in his office, doing some paperworks for Wayne Inc. When he saw your face, he immediately smiled, your presence lighting his whole world...But then he saw your expression, and he frowned.

“What happened ?”

************

“Mom ? MooOOooom ?”

Tim had been looking for you for the past hour, but wasn’t able to find you. You weren't in all your favorite places ! Did you leave the Manor without telling him ? It was unlike you.

Finally, he found you. You were in a room that was rarely used, but which was conveniently close to Bruce’s office, and had a couch.

Laying on top of your husband, you were fast asleep as Bruce was going through his paperworks, letting you holding onto his waist as he kept working.

When he saw the boy come in the room, he smiled at him. And it was hard, not to smile at Tim, seeing his own big wide smile.

Tim was missing a few teeth, that fell not long ago, and it was absolutely the cutest, when he smiled widely. He looked so happy, eyes sparkly and genuine smile. It felt wrong to Bruce, to think that this sweet boy didn’t see you as his mom...

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding ? Wouldn’t be the first time. Although, Bruce knew how sometimes Tim could be brutally honest, and say the facts in a matter of factly way that could be very harsh on the uninitiated.

Your son was holding a cardboard sheet almost as big as him, and looked very excited about something. He slowly approached you two, and said, whispering, yet the excitement was clear in his voice :

“Has she been asleep for long, dad ?!”

He called Bruce dad. Without an hesitation. And it felt so genuine. Like he was relishing in the word rolling off of his tongue. And it was often the case, with Tim. His parents, when they were still alive, never really noticed his presence...

And sometimes, it could be even worst to have parents who acted as if you didn’t exist, than caring parents who passed away. Bruce realized this.

“No, she just closed her eyes.”

Bruce answers, looking at you. And oh he couldn’t possibly know how soft his expressions as as he gazed at your sleeping face.

“Oh...”

Tim was clearly disappointed. His shoulders fell down, and he looked on the floor, looking defeated.

“What is it, champ ?”

“Well, I wanted her to-Oh ! Mom !”

The rumbling of your husband’s chest as he spoke is what woke you up. Not the actual sound of their voices, just that low vibrations reverberating in his chest.

You opened one eye, then the second, and was greeted by your youngest son’s face being very close to you. As Tim saw you were waking up, he kneeled down next to the couch, settling his piece of cardboard next to him, and approached you very closely.

His smile and sweet expression filled your vision. And you felt even more hurt, as you saw him so happy to see you, to know he didn’t really think you were his mom.

It was clear he cared for you. And loved you, and being with you. But to him...You weren’t his mom. And that was so painful.

“I got a plan mom, I got a plan !”

A...Plan ? For what ? You don’t even have time to ask him, and, still a little hazy as you just woke up from a short nap (that you took after crying exhausted you), you raise a little from your husband.

You exchange a curious look with him, as you see Tim spring to his feet and get a hold of the piece of cardboard that is almost as tall and large as him.

He turns it around and...

Your heart drops.

It’s a lot of very detailed drawings, maps and words about...about...

“This is how we’re going to convince the headmaster of my school that you’re really my mom, even if officially you’re not yet !! I thought we could start with logic first, and then go down the path of pathos if he really doesn’t change his mind !”

What ? Your brain is trying really hard to comprehend what’s happening, although it is starting to put two and two together.

“The rules say that the mom HAS to be the one who comes, and the way they wrote it suggest that they wouldn’t accept someone who isn’t yet official. But I think we could convince that, in our heart, we’re already an official family, right ?!”

Tim looks at you, and then at his dad, a little worry in his eyes (what if for them, he wasn’t their son yet because the paperworks weren’t finished and officials quite yet ?!?!). Bruce cannot help but smile, and nods, feeling his heart melt (a rare occurrence).

And you. You have exactly the reaction he expected you’d have. You sit up, put the cardboard aside, and drag your son into a tight hug that makes him giggle and exclaim :

“Hahaha mom wait I can’t breaaaathe !! Mom !!”

But he hugs you back, knowing that this means yes, you do consider him your son already, paperworks or not, and you will probably follow his plan to convince the school to-

“Mom ? Why are you crying ? Mom ?”

You can’t explain it to him. You feel silly, but also so emotional and touched. You thought he didn’t think of you as his mom. But he did. Oh he did, and was actually worried about technicalities of rules and...So sweet. That boy is so sweet.

Carefully, Tim dries your tears, and look curiously at his dad, his eyes clearly asking : “Did I do something wrong ?”

You’re still unable to speak, as you hold onto him, and Bruce ruffles his son’s hair saying :

“She’s just too happy, champ. She’s just too happy.”

CASSANDRA

"You, not my mom !”

She screamed. You never heard Cass raised her voice before. And yet, here, she screamed at you. And then closed her bedroom door right on your nose.

And you felt it in your heart. That specific pain that you wished you’d never feel again. That kind of hurt you wished you’d never feel ever again.

It happened just liked it did with Dick and Jason. You were “lecturing” her about putting herself in needless danger, and she felt frustrated at the fact you “didn’t trust her”.

It wasn’t true of course. You did trust her. And you knew she could hold her own. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, and scold her if she really scared you...

It was pure instinct. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling them off when you felt they went too far. You did it with Bruce too.

Once, he threw himself in the way of a bullet to save you, and once he recovered enough...Oh you were so mad at him.

It’s not that you wanted to take that bullet, of course. You knew it was also instinct that made him move to save you. But in truth, you would rather take a thousand bullet than lose any of them. Bruce, or your children.

And sometimes, it was hard for them to understand this. To get why you were so worried, when you accepted fully their night activities.

Why you monitored the batcomputer, if it was to scold them when they put themselves in danger ?

Ah but they didn’t understand that you only got “mad” when they put themselves in NEEDLESS danger. Pushing themselves too far that one night, being careless with something, ignoring their own safety to finish a task...

You couldn’t help but be afraid. And your fear turned into you scolding them. And sometimes, on each sides, things boiled and...

“You, not my mom !”

The meaning was clear. As Cass slammed her door right in your face, you knew not to push it further, not to tell her anything more.

Maybe you should’ve ? Should’ve open her door, and continue lecturing her so she’d understand her life was valuable ?

Cass put herself in danger more than any other member of your family, because she was raised as a weapon and thought of herself as an “expendable”. You weren’t mad at her for this, of course not (but oh, David Cain probably should never cross your path, it wasn’t pretty, when you were truly angry).

You were just worried. And unfortunately, being a parent was complicated and sometimes, your worry turned a little overbearing for your kids.

This was a mistake every normal caring parents made. Wanting what was best for their children, sometimes not realizing they’re going too far. And you ? Your family wasn’t normal.

Your children were vigilantes. Your worries were tuned up to the max.

Being a parent was hard. And sometimes, both you and your kids were frustrated. It happened. In any family.

It was resolved rather fast, most of the time. A little conversation, understanding and indulgence, and boom. Sorted.

However, there were times when things would go a little too far. Wether because one of you was tired, or didn’t feel well etc etc...

Tonight, was such a time.

“You, not my mom !”

Cass didn’t even register what she said. She was just mad and frustrated, and said the first thing that came into her mind. Her hand slammed the door shut before she could even think about it.

And here you were. In the corridor. In front of your daughter’s door.

Hurt. And feeling as devastated as you did when her brothers told you the same thing. You would think, after a few times of this happening, it’d be easier, right ? Well. No. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

As usual in those instances, you went to seek comfort in the arms of your husband.

************

Cassandra didn’t feel ok.

In fact, she felt absolutely terrible.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt that bad.

When she went to look for you and apologize for her behavior, she found you in her dad’s arms, crying, and it made her run away...

She couldn’t face you, knowing she truly hurt you like that.

The worst thing is, she knew she would hurt you by saying those words. Yet she still did it. It was as if she couldn’t control herself. It was like an ugly force took over her, and made her say those words.

But she knew. She knew she’s the one who ultimately decided to say them. She’s the one that pronounced them. Under the anger.

Anger.

The ugly force.

She turned around in her bed, holding onto the plush toy you gave her shortly after her arrival. You said “every child should have one” and that this one made you think of her.

It was a fox with bright colors. And it still smelled like you.

She was about to fall asleep, when she heard a knock on her door.

“Can we come in ?”

It was her older brothers.

Dick, Jason and Tim.

It was rare, to have them all in the same place nowadays, what with how busy they all were. Dick with Bludhäven, Jason with the gods only knew what really (the gods, and you and Bruce...but sshhh, that’s a secret), and Tim with college applications.

So Cass immediately understood that they heard about the fight she had with their mom.

And she felt a rush of shame come over her. She felt sad too, because maybe they’d be mad at her ?

Cassandra didn’t think she could bear to break your heart, and have her precious brothers mad at her all in the same day.

She almost told them to leave. But she didn’t have the strength.

They surrounded her, and their presence was so...soothing.

And then they spoke. They each told her the story of the time they told their mom those few dreaded words.

“You’re not my real mom !”

They told her how awful they felt, and how they knew they hurt their mom. They told her that...well, they did have the best mom ever.

You never held any grudge. Ever. Especially not against your own family.

You never even mentioned again the fact they told you this awful thing, you never even mentioned once this, under any circumstances.

Her brothers stayed with her for hours, talking about their feelings on the matter. Telling her it happened. That everyone wasn’t always on their best behavior...

It was hard, for Cass, to not be “good”. She did so many awful things when her biological father raised her to be a weapon, she felt like she had to catch up so much on those years of “badness”.

She often felt like she was evil, and could never caught up to everything. Like she was doomed, and could never become good.

On that, Jason told her she was wrong. That everyone could change, and no one was born truly evil. Environment, and the way you’re raised, matter. And what she did...wasn’t her fault. She was forced to. If she really enjoyed doing this she’d never become a Batgirl. She would never be part of this family.

She often felt like she was a bad daughter.

On that, Dick told her she was wrong. He too, felt like a bad son, when he “replaced” his parents with you and Bruce. He too, felt like a bad son when he would get so mad while you would do anything to make him happy. He too, felt like a bad son...on so many occasions. But he grew. And thanks to you mainly, he realized he was just human. Mistakes are human. And it’s not being a bad son, to sometimes feel so hurt that you lash out. That your trauma are so strong, things sometimes are tough.

She often felt like she couldn’t fit in, and would never fit in.

On that, Tim told her she was wrong. Him too, felt too different. He already had parents, they were alive, he just wanted to help, he didn’t have any friends...But in this family. In this family, everyone fitted in. Because you made it so. Bruce made it saw. You both accepted any flaws, and differences your kids might have. You loved them unconditionally, they all knew that by now.

And Cass...Cass didn’t want to hurt you.

They knew that, too.

It was an accident. In the heat of the moment. She didn’t mean it. Of course, you are her mom. Of course...

It felt good, to have her brothers there for her, when you couldn’t be.

************

Later that night, after her brothers left, Cass slowly exits her room and take the known way to yours and Bruce’s.

You are both there, and she knows her dad stayed because you felt bad. He always stayed with you, when you were feeling down. And vice versa.

Cass always told herself that, later, if she ever found a significant other, she’d want her and them to have the same kind of relationships than you. You and Bruce set up a rather high standard for whoever would come into her life.

But that was another story. For now, she was opening the door slowly, scared of waking you up. But you were awake.

Bruce was asleep, deeply. As usual when he felt your warmth against him. But you were not. Cass could see you slowly and absentmindedly caress your husband’s hair. It was soothing to both of you. His silky smooth dark hair were soft in between your fingers, and helped you get your mind off of the pain and focus on the sensation, while for him...Well, it put him asleep, when you did that.

The door creaked a little, and you abruptly turned your head towards it, ready to fight and...You instantly recognize your daughter, even in the dark of the room.

She doesn’t need to talk. You manage to roll over Bruce, who then by instinct roll too, and therefor you create a little spot for your daughter to climb in bed with you.

You turn around in Bruce’s arms, and slowly wrap them around your middle, instead of your shoulders. You turn towards Cass, your back against Bruce’s chest, and tap the small spot you managed to create next to you.

Cass understands, and climbs in, facing you. She lays her head on her arms, as you do the same. And then she mouthes :

“Sorry mom...”

And that’s all you needed. You gesture for your daughter to cuddle up close, and she does. By instinct, Bruce lets go one arm off of you, and grabs his kid to bring her closer. He is still asleep, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone that his subconscious holds onto the two most important women in his life like so.

And there she is. Cass feels safe. And warm. And she hears your heart beat softly. And she knows it partly beats for her.

And partly for Bruce. And partly for Dick. And partly for Jason. And Tim. And Damian. And Duke. And Alfred.

It beats for your family.

For her family.

Family.

She has a family.

And you are her mom.

Her biological father never hugged her, never told her everything was going to be alright, never...

Cass never felt safe and warm.

Like she did, right now, held by both you and Bruce.

“Family...”

She whispers, as she slowly falls asleep. And you’re the only mom she ever wants to have. You are, her real mom. Always have been, always will be.

DAMIAN

Damian didn’t really think this was a big deal, at first.

Just like his father, he often made the mistake to think that people around him will simply understand his true meaning.

When he told you : “You’re not even my real mom !”, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was angry because you told him he couldn’t go out on patrol for a few days, as he was grounded for skipping school and going to work on cases instead.

“But school is boring, I already know everything ??”

“It’s the principle of it, Damian. You can’t just do what you want whenever you want, this is not how it works. I don’t feel like we’re extremely strict parents, so when you betray our trusts like that, it has consequences.”

Bruce kept out of the argument, ready to jump in however if you needed him to affirm that yes, actions have consequences and although you two are pretty lax with your son on many fronts, he still has to listen. You and Bruce made clear rules when you first adopted Dick, because you realized your lifestyle was anything but normal, but it didn’t mean your children could just do anything they wanted.

Neither of you wanted them to turn into privileged little brats. Or to think they were above everything. And you were right, by skipping school so much, and lying about it, Damian did betray your trust.

Understanding actions had consequences was a big step that took a while, with Damian. Unfortunately, he grew up in an environment that indeed taught him he could do whatever he wanted, no matter if he hurt people on the way...

Unlearning all this, was tough. And you understood that. Which is why you let things go a lot, with him, and only slowly told him about things. Gradually teaching him about your values and principles.

However sometimes, like in this case, you needed to be firm and strict, because otherwise he’d just keep doing it knowing it had no bad consequences, and you didn’t want him to simply not go to school anymore...School was important for his social development, you realized it as he made friends and...

And simply, an eleven years old kid couldn’t just roam around all day as he saw fit. That’s it. And so here you were, trying to explain this to him. And that’s when he said it.

He scrunched up his nose like he always did when he was angry, and then, turning his head away from you, throwing his Robin boots at the back of the cave.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not even my real mom !”

And then he bolted out of the Batcave, leaving you behind, with a broken heart and feeling guilty...What if he hates you, because you were too harsh on him ?

Bruce, that night, did not go out on patrol either, and stayed with you. Of course, he did.

************

The fact he still listened to you and didn’t go out, made him thought you knew he was just angry and didn’t mean a word of it.

To him, it was so obvious he thought of you as his mom, and that he said this just because he wanted to have the last word, that he honestly didn’t think much of it.

Sure he was frustrated and angry, just like any kid was when their parents said : “no” to them. But he didn't mean it...

He didn’t really see you of the entire day. Finally, he decided to go see his father to ask him what was up.

“Father ?”

“Yes ?”

“Is-is mom ok ?”

“Well, what do you think ?”

“She doesn’t seem ok.”

“Do you know why ?”

“Did you do something to upset her ?”

Normally, Bruce would feel vex at this statement. What, did he really do things to upset you that often ? Yes and now. Sometimes, he would get on your nerve, and vice versa. It happened, in relationships.

But it was never anything major. Not anymore at least. Because now, when he had his “dark days” and could be a total jerk, you knew how to handle him. You knew not to take his bullshit.

Yes. Normally, Bruce would pout like a child, at the fact his son thought that his mom was feeling down because of him. But not today. No.

Because he knew that what made you sad, was something important.

Unfortunately, Damian inherited from him his bad habit of thinking others will understand his meaning.

Like, when he tried to push you away at first so you wouldn't get involved in his crazy life, what he really wanted was for you to get closer...Or when he told you that he was fine at times, all he wanted was for you to hold him and take care of him etc etc...The first time he told you “I love you”, wasn’t with words, but by not going on patrol one night, to stay with you. And he thought you’d immediately understand that he truly loved you...Truth was, it wasn’t as obvious to you (or anyone really) than it was for him.

And Damian had the same problem. Doing things that he thought would obviously tell his meaning, his real feelings, when really...No one but him would get it.

Although you became quite good at deciphering your husband’s true intentions, you could still misinterpret things sometimes.

And yesterday night, when you grounded your son and tried to teach him a life lesson...You definitely didn’t see that he didn’t mean what he said and just wanted the last word. For you, he was seriously meaning it. And that’s why you were avoiding him a little, because it was too hard to...to...

Damian’s words truly hurt you. You often were scared he could never see you as his mom (even if he did call you mom now and clearly cared for you) because of how he grew up. You’d never give up on him, of course, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt when he pushed you away or pretended to not care...

Damian thought it was obvious, that his actions actually reflected how much you meant to him. That without you, he’d be lost and honestly wouldn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t.

But it wasn’t obvious.

Bruce sighed, and then smiled :

“Since when is she acting odd ?”

“This morning. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she went to work !”

It felt like such a serious issue to your boy, in that instant, that Bruce wished you were there to see his reaction. You’d instantly know he didn’t mean it, when he said you weren’t his mom...

But you couldn’t quite face him. You didn’t really avoid him or try to hurt him by not saying goodbye. Of course not, you were an adult, and you definitely knew that doing to others what was done to you is pointless, and mean. And why hurt someone the same way they hurt you ? You’re no better than them uh...

“Can you think of anything that might’ve upset her ?”

“I spilled my milk a little, but cleaned it after. I didn’t let Alfred do it like last time. I woke up a minute late, too. Jason hasn’t called in two days, but he was there yesterday afternoon. Dick said she messed up her pumpkin soup but he was just joking and she knows. Tim fell asleep at the breakfast table. You clinging to her this morning apparently made her late, I heard Alfred say it. Um...Cass um...Cass didn’t do anything bad really...None of those things sound like it would upset her though ! She really looked sad this morning, not like herself at all !”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It was pretty cute, how Damian often acted as if he didn’t care about anything, yet no details would ever go past him. Especially not when it came to his family. He always noticed, when one of them felt down in any way, and tried to help (in his own way).

Hell, he probably woke Tim up and told him to sleep more and take care of himself. Called Jason and told him to call his mom. Scolded Dick to not make this kind of jokes again.

This was just the Damian that was privy only to them. A sweet child, who unfortunately often had trouble expressing his true feelings.

Just like his father.

Damian would often brag about his siblings, and how awesome they were, to his friends (notably to Jon, who didn’t have any siblings). But he’d never tell them right in front of their face.

Bruce tried to help Damian see what was wrong, and said :

“What about last night ?”

“Ugh ? What about last n-OH !”

Damian replayed the events in his head, and remembered his anger and frustration. But most importantly...What he told his mom.

“I have to find mom ! Where is she ?!”

Damian looked absolutely panicked, which was quite unlike him. Bruce answered :

“She’s at work, she had a meeting with her editor. She should be back soon, though.”

And on that note, Damian ran out to do god knew what, as Bruce shook his head and...Well, he just knew things would turn out alright.

************

Alfred almost fainted, when he saw Damian tear off his beautiful flowers from his garden. He almost ran out, and had a very “get off my lawn !” moment...up until he realized that the boy was probably doing this for a reason.

Oh. Oh his poor lilies.

Hopefully, this really was for a good reason. A very good one. One so good, that it would stop him from strangling his grandkid, hopefully...

************

When you came home, Damian was waiting for you at the front door. He had a bunch of lilies in his hands (that you were pretty sure were from Alfred’s precious garden) and he looked absolutely frantic.

He ran to you, almost threw the flowers in your arms, and yelled :

“I’M SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN IT !! YOU ARE MY REAL MOM ! I WAS JUST ANGRY ! I’M SORRY !!”

You were a little confused as to why he was yelling, but before you could continue he took a drawing out of his pocket and added :

“THIS IS A DRAWING OF YOU ! I MADE IT FOR YOU !! YOU ARE MY MOM ! YOU REALLY ARE ! PLEASE FORGIVE ME !! I’M SORRY !! DO NOT BE MAD AT ME !!”

Still confused as to why he was screaming, you bend down to look at him eye level, settled the flowers on the floor, and said :

“It’s ok Damian. It’s ok. We all get frustrated sometimes...I won’t lie and say it didn’t hurt, but it’s ok. It happens.”

Damian’s face showed great relief, and he leaped into your arms, yelling :

“I LOVE YOU !!”

You winced as he screamed in your ear, and said :

“Why are you yelling, little one ?”

Damian took a step back from you and said :

“BECAUSE I HAVE TROUBLE EXPRESSING MYSELF AND JASON TOLD ME THAT SAYING THINGS IN AN AGGRESSIVE WAY MIGHT HELP !! AND HE’S RIGHT !! I LOVE YOU !!”

Damian told you he loved you before, in certain moments. When he got really hurt, when you were really hurt, if he felt really sad...It was always a moment full of emotions. And it was still rather hard for him to say the words.

It didn’t really surprise you that Jason would have such a technique. Yelling his feelings. Yep. Sounds like him alright. And it did seem like it worked for his little brother too.

Only you and your close family would know, because you were the only ones to truly know him, but those two were more similar than others would think. And it wasn’t because they already killed before. Oh no. On the contrary.

“I love you too, my little one...”

You say, as he goes back for another hug, clearly relieved you’re not mad at him. From this day on, he swore to himself that he would really try to tell others’ what he truly felt, even if it meant yelling it at them. Because other wise...otherwise it’d create this sort of terrible situations, in which his mom thought he didn’t think of her as his mom !

He couldn’t have it, anymore. Many “I LOVE YOU !!” were heard in the Manor, from that point on.

DUKE

“You know you can tell me anything, right ?”

Duke doesn’t know why this time, this made him snap.

Today was the anniversary of when his parents got “jokerize”, it had been two years already...And not one step closer to cure them ! He was so frustrated, sad, and lost. And you noticed.

Duke tend to try to keep things inside. Not that he didn’t want to bother anyone, more like he just thought he HAD to handle things himself. Like it would make him stronger, and therefor, he could protect those he cares about.

He could protect them, unlike when he could do nothing but watch as his parents fell into madness...He couldn’t bear the thought of this happening to you, Bruce, or any member of this family ! Not again.

He couldn’t bear it...

“You’re not even my mom ! Stop acting like you are !”

Are the words he heard himself scream at you as you asked him if everything was ok, and if he needed to talk. As you were caring, once again, and he just couldn’t...he couldn’t stand it ! Not today.

Not today.

He immediately saw on your face the way you shut down, and took one step behind. The way your face “closed”, and as you said : “I understand.” and left the room, your body stiff and your face inexpressive (which was very unlike you), Duke felt it.

The guilt.

Right away.

When those dreaded words were said by all your other kids, they were young. They were all under the age of ten, and the immediate consequences of their actions didn’t truly registered.

But Duke.

Duke was almost eighteen. And he knew. He knew he hurt you.

He felt the need to run after you and apologized, but there was something stopping him.

After all, it was true right, you weren’t his mom ! His mom was still alive, and she could be cured one day ! HE ALREADY HAVE A MOM !

So what if you always cooked him his favorite meal, or knew exactly what his favorite food was ? So what if you would go out of your way to grab his favorite burger from his favorite joints when you knew he felt down ?

So what, if you were always there when he was sad ? Cheering him up with comfort food, kind words, and just your presence ?

So what if you knew exactly what would make him feel better, which movie to put on to put a smile on his face ?

So what, if you spend entire night right by his bedside when he got really hurt, or when he was sick ?

So what if you’d listen to him at any time of the day or night, and always took time to give him your thoughts on the matter, and truly, truly listen to what he was saying instead of waiting for your turn to speak ?

So what if you’d make him laugh, smile, feel loved, even as he felt so alone and isolated, especially after he discovered his powers ?

So what if you never made him feel like he was different because of it ?

So what if you opened your house’s door without a second thought for this unknown teenager who was also a meta ?!

So what...so what...so what if you obviously cared a lot, and if you...if you...

He already had a mom. And she might get better one day.

He couldn’t have two moms.

...

Right ?

What would happen when his parents would be cured ? Forget all his feelings for the Waynes ? So it’d be easier to pretend he wasn’t part of the family, right ?

It would be easier.

Yes.

But it was too late.

It was too late...

He ran after you. Caught up with you in the corridor. Tears in his eyes, he said :

“I’m sorry, please don’t go...”

And fell into your arms. Almost eighteen years old, yes, but still needed the support of a mother. Of his mother.

And you were there. You’d always be there, no matter what happened in the future. And he needed you, especially in that moment of frustration, where he really missed his parents, and was starting to lose hope to ever find a cure...

And you were there.

Who ever made a rule that you could have only one mom anyway, right ?

BRUCE

They did tell him “you’re not my dad !” too. And for him, it was as terrible as for you. If not worst, on certain aspect. Especially since he had a hard times truly expressing his feelings more often than not.

He knows how devastating it can feel. He knows it even more, because not only did he feel it as they told him “you’re not my dad !”, but he also felt it as he told Alfred “you’re not my dad !”. He knew the feelings from both sides.

It enhanced everything.

Of course, in general, Bruce always felt things more than anyone else around him. He was born like that. Hypersensitive. That’s why he worked so much on hiding his true feelings, and appearing detached and cold.

It’s much easier, than to always being overemotional. Of course, it didn’t mean he felt nothing. On the contrary, he felt everything. He was just better, nowadays, at pretending he was okay. At pretending he didn’t care.

Ah. But you existed.

You.

The only person that could always see through his bullshit, and know when he was lying and fake smiling.

Between the two of you, there has always been something. Even before you were together. It was an irrational and irresistible attraction.

An unbreakable bond. Always supporting each others.

You have no idea how you’d live without him. And he couldn’t even fathom a world without you. It’s a world he wouldn’t like very much...

Even during the worst times, and oh you went through a lot together, you knew at least...at least you’d have warm arms to fall asleep in. At least, you’d have each others.

Bruce had known pain so strong he sometimes wished death would just take him away. And then you came in. Ready to put up with his shit, and to not give up on him even when he gave you every reason to.

And oh, oh he gave you back everything times a thousand. You knew he’d never let you fall. Not alone.

Whenever something hurtful as your children telling you two you weren’t their real parents happened...It’s when you truly realized how vital you were to each others.

When you fell, Bruce was there to catch you.

When he fell, you were there to catch him.

Better to fall together, than to stand alone.

__________________________________________________

And here we are :). I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback and reblog if you want to ^^. I’m a little afraid I disappointed y’all for some reasons haha. I couldn’t explain. Self-confidence crisis hahaha. I finished writing that late, and exhausted after a hard week, maybe it plays into account ? Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed your time reading this :). And thanks for reading, of course ^^.

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blzzrdstryr · 4 years ago

Text

Reveries of the Past. Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

Wordcount: 3875

CW: Dissociation, graphic depiction of violence, hallucinations, unhealthy relationship and unhealthy power dynamics.

A.N.: I used a lot of my experience with dissociations in this and if it makes you uncomfortable, I would advice not to read it. I also plan on writing continuation for this, as it’s set before the Rite of Descension. P.s. I am not a native English speaker, so could you notify me if there’s awkward wording.

[Next chapter]

There are plenty of times you find yourself reminiscing about the past and now, your mind slips back to your memories, as you look at the horribly mangled body of the treasure hoarder. The stench of blood stuffs up your nose, it’s sickly sweet metallic odor making your gut clench and nausea rise, as your limbs grow heavier and numb. You don’t feel like you belong in your skin and bones and blood anymore - it’s cold, so cold, yet you don’t feel any of it. You are an outsider, an unwanted intruder in the house that is your body, an indifferent observer looking at the world through the thick glass.

The world around disfigures, shapes and colors changing in the constant whirlwind - they jump and dance around, small becoming large and large shrinking so much it’s barely visible, green shifts to red to blue and to yellow and to million of other colors, and sounds suddenly become muffled, losing their sharpness, but you don’t care about it: the part that is “you” fled to the daydreams of your childhood moments ago, leaving a clinically observing, yet unfeeling being behind.

Adults would describe you as a perfect child: quiet, obedient and dutiful, you were a stark contrast to the other louder and more free spirited kids. You studied hard, cleaned the house, helped with dishes and cooking and never talked back.

I can't upset mom and dad because they work so much. I can't play with other kids because if I do, they will make fun of me, I have to study hard and get good grades, because mom said I will have a good job and become rich and help them.

These particular memories don't feel good to you: they're bleak and boring, yet full of silent shame - they make your throat clog and eyes water, as something burning starts to bloom deep underneath your skin.

Childe stops beating the still alive treasure hoarder, a blood smeared on the cheek and a dangerous glint in his eyes, and turns his head to you.

"Hey, how about lending me a helping hand?", there’s a hunger in his voice you recognize, he wants to teach a lesson to the debtors, then. You walk towards him, feeling your knees get weaker and weaker with each step for some reason. A dagger made of ice shines in your hand with cold light.

"It's no wonder [First] received a vision! My [First] is always so good and smart, there are no children better" the exact words your mother says, as she brags to her friends, showing them the vision you were bestowed with. You left it to her, not caring what will happen to it - despite all the child's wonder you felt before receiving it, the glowing orb doesn’t look so amazing to you now. It feels foreign and ugly, a reminder of what happened seconds before you gained it.

“You know, when I was a child”, he takes the weapon and focuses on the treasure hoarder’s leader again, “we made a special kind of promise”. It’s tip travels to the hoarder’s hand. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life”

The sweet voice he uses and the fact that you know the nursery rhyme too would make you sick in the stomach the other day, but not now.

You don’t exactly remember how you joined the Fatui - it happened shortly after you gained a vision, when you were still too numb and cold to the outside world after the Event.

Mom will hate me, dad will hate me too. I can’t let them know.

Your parents say that officials just knocked on the front door one day and offered you an entry into the Fatui and a monthly salary, big enough to stop your parents from overworking themselves. You were terrified back then, Fatuis despite being known as a diplomatic organization are still a mystery to the ordinary Shezhnayan and a direct servants to Her will. The thought of disappointing Tsaritsa or letting down Snezhnaya was enough to paralyze you, but seeing the smiles on your parents faces was enough to make you swear to yourself, that you will work there no matter how scary it seems.

“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” The blade stops between phalanges of the little finger: “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend", he presses it, strong enough to detach the limb from the rest of the body in one swift slash. Treasure hoarder starts to cry and scream from the sudden pain, yet quickly chokes on it as Childe hits him in the solar plexus. The crack of bones feels deafening among the sea of muffled sounds.

Training was rigorous to say the least, you came back to your dorm room absolutely exhausted and after you fell on the bed you were practically dead to the world. Turns out, having a vision wasn’t enough to make you a fighter - you needed to know how to climb, swim, run with a weight to lift and wield a weapon. There were other children and teens with you, they eyed your vision with a mix of adoration and envy, you pretended not to catch it in turn.

“The frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again”, harbinger forces the victim's jaw apart by squeezing it with one hand, the other rapidly forcing a dagger inside the mouth. Treasure hoarder gasps and mumbles, fat tears forming in his eyes. A part of you expects a sound of parting flesh, but none comes: Tartaglia stands up and removes the blade, leaving a shivering and terrified man laying on the ground.

“Well,” Childe shrugs, as if he didn’t just dismember a person, voice back to his cheery tone : “You didn’t actually make a pinkie promise, so consider it a small mercy”. The treasure hoarder cowers even more, snuggling the injured hand close to the bruised chest. “But if you fail to repay your debt I will oversee that the frost”, he points in your direction, a treasure hoarder’s eyes going wide as he notices your vision, “will actually freeze your lying tongue off”, his voice descends again, back to it’s dangerous half-whisper.

You meet Ajax during the winter, he’s close to you in age and just arrived into Fatui grounds. He boasts and shows off to all of you, and you desperately want to retort something acidic to shut him up and rip off that arrogant bravado, yet say nothing, picturing how the tomorrow training session will have him laying flat on his back, too hurt and too tired to move even a single finger.

He defeats the trainer in less than a minute.

Now, that the treasure hoarder fled, still snuggling disfigured limb, Childe turns attention back to you. “You seem a little bit disinterested here”, his hand on your cheek is so foreign, it’s burning and freezing at the same time, the shock from the unwanted touch almost strong enough to pull you back into reality. He notices your unintentional flinching and unfocused eyes “Ah, you hurt my feelings, [First]! And I thought we already became friends”.

You say nothing, cold and unmoving, blind and deaf to the outside world, his words register a second too late, and there’s no cliche phrase for you to reply with. He looks a bit baffled and deflated for a second, but shrugs it off, just like he did during teen years, when you deliberately ignored all his attempts at catching your attention.

“Huh, even if you are so cold to me, I still forgive you”, he takes your hand, his touch still too overwhelming for you to process and pulls you back to Liyue harbor, your legs barely bending as you walk after him, like an obedient dog trailing it’s master.

“You know [First], I can beat you up so badly, that you will barely walk”, you put feather aside, stopping writing the letter to your parents as you glare at Ajax with barely masked indignation. He grins, satisfied to finally catch your attention after the whole day of pestering you. “I am aware of that” you reply in an absolutely flat tone, holding yourself from pouncing on him and trying to break the teeth out of that smug smile. He beams even wider, as if sensing your not-so-good intentions, revealing even more pearly whites as if taunting you.

“But I won’t, count yourself lucky”. And he leaves, this short interaction filling you with so much rage that you shake, handwritten letters noticeably becoming sharper and faster, your thoughts clouding around the idea of acquating his face with your boots.

Nonetheless, you indeed count yourself fortunate enough, when you see Ajax defeating grown men with bare hands. When you two, the only vision holders among your peers have to spar, he always goes easy on you, prefering to immobilize you rather than beating, making your defeat less painful yet even more humiliating.

Almost at the end of your trail he suddenly stops and says something, but you don't catch it, words turning into separate vowels and then fusing together into one unintelligible gibberish mess. He leans in, close enough for his breath to burn your neck, and he continues to get closer, until his empty eyes look into yours glazed ones. He seems disappointed for a second and backs down, his breathing no longer fanning your skin.

Distantly you think that you somehow angered him and he will slap you for it, and do nothing to dodge the hit - you barely feel pain in this condition anyway, but he doesn’t. The road to the Northland Bank is completed in absolute silence, Childe no longer trying to grab your attention, only when you enter Liyue Harbor does he whisper, that you two must look like a pair with all that hand holding. Judging by the volume and tone of his voice he says it more to himself than to you.

***

You come back to yourself in the safety of your room on the third room of the Northland bank. It feels like a rush of sensation, as everything becomes sharper and clearer again, like you just swam to the surface of water from the very depths of it. An invisible bubble around your head pops in one moment, and the world becomes real again, mind and body connecting for once more.

Eyes and ears focused you take in surroundings: the room is neat and lifelessly empty - just a bed and a working desk with a stack of written but unsent letters, along with a small bookcase near, no figurines, pictures or even plants to decorate living place, as you see no reason to adorn the area you use for sleeping only. Indiscernible wallpapers and a small window close to the middle of the bed finish the picture of austerity.

Once, your memory catches up to you, you can't help groan from the shame and irritation, hiding your face in both hands. Afterwards always feels both like a disgraceful escape and a warm blanket during the stormy night, a duality that you accepted long ago after joining the Fatui and today is no exception. You curse Harbinger when you remember why exactly you had an episode, and get up from the bed you threw yourself on minutes ago. You come to the desk, taking a clean form of a relocation request from the drawer and writing materials.

Filling in the blank feels like commiting a felony to you for some reason - you stop several times when you hear footsteps in the corridor, focusing on the door,ready to hide the half written form and say some lie as an excuse. You don't list the Childe-related reasons, knowing that there's nothing that could make any of the Harbingers face the consequence for their actions, and instead you write completely normal and fake causes: health concerns, family matters and so on. Part of you doubts that this will work and you will have the fortune to get away from a certain harbinger as far as possible. Trying and failing is better than never attempting, you think, quickly writing the paper.

Once you finish it, you almost rush to Ekaterina, praying that you won't run into a certain ginger on the way. Sometime ago you caught Tartaglia checking your letters, for a secrecy he said back then, we can’t let anyone know about the coming operation. Childe then instilled that every sent and received letter should be checked, lest Qixing and other Liyuens learned what Fatui had in plan. It sounded logical and sensible, but the paranoid thought that he enforced this policy just to have a glimpse at your feelings never stopped eating at you. From that day on you sent your family the most basic and vague letters, just stating that you’re in good health and mind, still missing them and Snezhnaya, leaving the ones with more private sentiments in your room.

Her eyes are completely obscured by the mask, but even with that you can’t miss the pointed glare she sends your way - Tartaglia never shied away from showing off, be it his strength, money or his twisted obsession that he calls love. With the amount of time and finances he spends on you and the way he acts like a kicked lovesick puppy in your vicinity, you are pretty sure that at least half of the bank workers see you as a cunning and cruel seducer, so keen and devious in the art of temptation that you managed to lure in Eleventh Harbinger.

As if archons decided to laugh at you, Childe descends from the second floor too, catching the sight of you near the receptionist. He looks unusually somber for a moment, but then he sees you, a smile appearing on his face as he takes the form from Ekaterina's hands. You can just feel how Ekaterina rolls her eyes under the mask, as if muttering complaints about the lovers’ spat and insubordination, having been working with her for some time, enough to have a clue of the inner workings of her mind.

You have to give him that he plays the confusion and regret very persuasively. He asks how he can fix this, says what a valuable team member you are to him and how much you are needed in the Northland bank. You agree to his suggestion - if years of training with Ajax and then work with Childe taught you anything, it is that Ajax is the chaos incarnate and Tartaglia is Ajax’s less tolerable and more unpredictable version, so it’s better not to anger him.

***

In the end he invites you to dine with him at Wanmin restaurant, a place Childe heard from some “xiansheng” as he called them. A bustling Liyue street is open before you two, tall midday sun painting the whole street into bright orange, so unlike the pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya. He orders two Black Back Perch Stews on the chef's recommendations, and hands a bouquet of local flowers in a parody of a normal boyfriend. Any random observer would really see it as a date.

You take the flowers, pretending to pay more attention to them than to a man sitting near you. Tartaglia is an unpredictability wrapped in human skin, there’s no privilege as being lax and carefree near him, as even Tsaritsa has no idea what he will do next.

To your mutual confusion Xiangling presents the meal with two pairs of chopsticks. Utensils feel foreign in your palm, you having no idea how to handle them and Childe, by the looks of it too. Tartaglia specifically asks the chef for spoons, while you observe the other clients, noting how they use theirs. Holding one stick like a pen and then placing the bottom one in a fixed position under the thumb you manage to grasp the fish from the soup, albeit clumsily. You consider it a small win.

The image of a mighty Harbinger struggling in a failing battle with chopsticks would look funny to you, if it wasn’t for the whole "date" you were having. After putting them aside, and seemingly admitting defeat, Childe starts from afar: "You know [First], you changed a lot since I first met you" .

You raise an eyebrow at the starter, it's vague and innocent enough, but experience tells you that he will or at least try to stir the conversation into your relationship with him again. Straightening a bit and finally turning your eyes to him, you pause for a second, picking the least offensive reply you can muster - there’s a swarm of insults buzzing at the tip of your tongue prepared just for him, growing and sprouting since your pubescent years.

“Yes, I got taller”, he laughs it off, like you said some funny joke, his giggles not stopping for some time. "No, I mean as a person. Remember how you used to glare at me for joking? And now you act so unfazed ”

Joking. Is this what he calls it? Shivers creep up your spine when your memory oh so conveniently conjures the images of the aftermath of his jokes.

“Your jokes weren’t funny to anyone but you”. Breathe, you think, there’s no need to anger him. There are pictures of broken bones and bruised bodies and a cacophony of somebody else’s pained screams flashing and rattling in your head, Adults never did anything. Why would they? They had a golden boy Ajax, why would they help the others when they had him? Why would they help you? Bitterness and anger you thought you swallowed long ago rise up to the surface again, and you decide to bite down on the stew - Tartaglia always found a way to turn your words against you and hurt you, no need to give him more weapons now.

“I changed a lot too. I know I was insufferable as a teen”, he must have taken your silence as a free pass to continue whatever nonsense he’s sprouting, “I am sorry”.

The last three words catch you off guard, a piece of fish almost stuck in the throat from the jolt. Ajax takes you by surprise once again, for him to finally acknowledge and apologize for all the pain he caused and years he tormented you?

You blink and look at him intently, his facial expression changing into an unusually somber one. It seems authentic enough.

“Let’s start from the scratch?

You contemplate unsure what to say.

Was he lying?

Looking back, you in a sense are luckier than most of Childe's victims, witnessing his youth, familiarizing and distinguishing the tells of him lying and scheming, observing the way he bloomed into the manipulator he is today firsthand. You see a familiarity in his face and voice, something that helps you from falling to his charms. There's also the added fact that you were and still are an involuntary witness to the way how carnal and bloodthirsty usually friendly Ajax can become.

When did you catch his attention?

You remember his smile when he first approached you, less teeth and more sincerity that is thereafter,a hand outstretched to you. It happens on the next day after his arrival, almost as cold and unpleasant as the previous one. You brush the limb away like a noisy fly, secretly angry at his arrogant attitude and how effortlessly he endured training. His smiling doesn’t stop, yet you feel a sudden change in the air around you.

Would your fate be different if you took his hand?

You can't forget how your mind disconnected from your body for the second time. It was Ajax again vying for your attention akin to a spoiled child, and like one he threw a tantrum when you refused to give him any. The poor recruit you were talking with was hospitalized the same day, as you helplessly watched the carnage before you. You didn't fight, you didn’t flee, you just froze, like a scared animal, paralyzed by fear, yet somehow too detached from feelings. That day was bizarre: once you felt reality, it was solid and undeniable and then you didn't. The realness of the current diffused, slipped through the fingers like sand, leaving nothing but unreliable and delusive reveries behind.

Will he let you go?

“People do change and I see that you changed too. I don’t think of you as a teen you were” you carefully pick the words, Tartaglia visibly blooms, thinking that his apology worked, yet your next words snuff out his triumph: “but my memories stay the same. I don’t think we can start from scratch”

You bite the tongue, the second part still coming out too harsh for your liking. The moment of sincerity is interrupted, you see him, changing the masks, unsure what to do. It seems for the first time it was you who caught him off guard. You guess which one of the two standard facades he will decide to show to you, having spent years by his side to observe him masterfully wielding both, the friendly one with a vacant smile that never reaches his dead, dead eyes or the calculating one, distant and devoid of humanity?

In the end he uses none, a hurt still evident, dripping in his tone, face and moves - is it another mask you never got to see or is it real? - “So that is your answer”, he leans in closer, dull cerulean eyes looking right into yours.

You hold his stare, nodding, instead of saying anything and he hums, sitting back and wearing the cold mask, reserved for his enemies: “Just wanted to remind you that I am the Harbinger and you are just a position higher than an ordinary agent”. Despite seeing it so many times, it’s the first time he directs it at you and you have to suppress the shiver. The unsaid threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you.

You two are no longer solemn [First] and annoying Ajax, who trails your steps behind like a puppy, no, you are a special agent [Last] and Eleventh Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, to whom you are personally assigned by Tsaritsa herself. Even possessing vision and delusion yourself you can’t match Childe’s power, and your loss would be easy to overlook if your harbinger wished for it. Honestly speaking, there are a lot of things he could do to you without anyone questioning it, the Harbingers being the second most powerful figures in the organization, right after Tsaritsa herself. You heard the stories of Krupp and other assistants who got missing under Il Dottore, you heard of horrible accidents happening to the people Scaramouche dislikes, you heard about the injuries Signora inflicts on the unfortunate recruits when she is in foul mood, yet you never thought that Tartaglia will abuse his power in the same way.

“Don’t worry” he seems to have taken mercy on you, “I won’t use my position like that, it’s cheating and I like to play the fair game”, despite the seemingly reassuring words , you don’t let yourself relax, knowing him for years.

“Don’t think I will back down though, I am not the type to give up”

#yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #Yandere #Childe #Tartaglia #Dialogues are hard #My brain is melting #It's 4 am where I live #Reader will have a crush on Zhongli in ch 2 #my writing

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princessbeebee · 4 years ago

Text

Squishmallow Scare and Peter Bucky Barnes x regressed!reader

I have been obsessed with squishmallows lol so I decided to write this. If anyone has any suggestions my asks are open ♡

word count: 1.7k

Mute!regressed!reader

Y/N had accumulated a bunch of squishmallows since Bucky loved spoiling his baby. Almost every time he’d go to the store he would actively search for any squishmallows. Steve has also looked for them before when the store opens just to get the one she wanted even though she would rarely ask for them.

Bucky would hear her talk about new ones that come out and so he would try and get them, even with Steve's help. Y/N woke up from a scary nightmare and Bucky was gone. Bucky had left for an emergency in Canada of all places and was arriving that morning. She wanted to wake up peacefully but obviously, her brain chose violence.

She turned over in their shared bed and reached for the squishmallow that fell onto the floor when she was sleeping. The sun shone through the window causing her to strain her just closed eyes. She was sweaty and just did not want to be an adult today. So she headed to the living room where the other half of her many squishes were located. She also had a designated room that was next to Bucky’s office that was her playroom. She went up to the ten squishes and gathered them up to put them back into the playroom.

She placed ten of them on their couch since she was home alone and needed company. The playroom had a light pink wall with a bookshelf filled with coloring books and children's books, a small comfortable couch, a bean bag, a small table, and of course all her squishes and other toys. The squishmallows were in the corner of the room and piled up. She dumped them on top of each other carefully and stared at them. She sleepily bent down and moved some over to make a hole. She then crawled into it and laid down on the fluffy carpet and had all the squishes cover her body.

She hugged one to her chest and heard the front door open and her Bucky shout out “drăguță!” Y/N stayed quiet while Bucky searched each room for her. She decided to scare him when he called for her. Bucky walked inside the playroom, where she usually was when regressed, and looked around for her. She heard his footsteps approach where the squish pile was. When it got quiet she rose suddenly which made Bucky jump and scream. “Oh my god you scared me so bad Y/N” Bucky exclaimed. She chuckled as Bucky gave her his hand so she could stand up. She still held her favorite squish as Bucky pecked her lips. He had noticed that something was off. Usually, she was talking his ear off, but she was quiet. He had experienced this a couple of times with her, she went mute when she hadn’t regressed in a while. His absence had caused her to not be able to regress since she had become accustomed to him aiding her in her regression.

He looked at her fondly and asked “Do you need my care honey?” She just nodded and he put his arms around her waist and commanded a quiet “up”. He held her in his arms and spun her around which caused her to smile. “Is that your baby? They are very cute.” He patted the squishes head with one hand as he balanced her on his hip. “I know you’re regressed Y/N, but I will just tell you about my flight back because oh was it eventful,” Bucky said as he sat down on the playroom couch. “So I was heading to the airport and saw one of the stores that sell squishmallows and I saw that they had the mystery ones you wanted so I had to get you a couple of bags!” She squealed with joy as Bucky sat her down on the couch and walked out into the living room to grab the bag he got. She hopped on her butt in excitement as he walked back in with the colorful reusable bag. He had bought her six of the mystery bags each of them 8 inches.

She bit her lip and did grabby hands to the bag. Bucky just chuckled and placed the bag next to your lap. She dumped the bag onto the couch and a couple fell off of it. Bucky just placed the fallen ones with the others as she adamantly opened one of them. “These are not like any of the ones I have gotten you before, they are scented, but I am not sure if all of them smell like marshmallows or if they all have different smells. The bag doesn’t say but I am sure your nose will figure it out huh baby” Bucky explained. She struggled with opening the bag so she grunted and held it out towards Bucky. He smiled and dug in his pocket to grab his abalone shell pocket knife to cut it open. “Here honey you’re too small let me do it.” “And remember to never touch a sharp object, only me ok?” He asked while giving her a wink.

She blushed as he handed her one bag. “Ooooo which one did you get princess!” He exclaimed. The scent of chocolate was overwhelming but comforting as she pulled out the green dragon. She beamed as she hugged the small green creature. Bucky continued cutting the tops open and handing them to her. She just squealed in joy as she pulled out each stuffie giving each a kiss and hug. Surprisingly Bucky had gotten each squish in the series, so Y/N was happy. He would grab one and smell it to attempt to figure out each scent. He’d hold out the stuffie for her to sniff also as he listed off his guesses of each scent, which she’d either respond with shaking her head yes or no. He would list off weird guesses like “grass” or “slime scent”, which would just make her laugh. Her favorite had to be the unicorn since she smelled like flowers.

“So how about a snack, you know Peter is coming over today right?” Her head shot up and looked towards Bucky. She hadn’t played with Peter in so long since he was moving into the tower and preparing to work as a full-time avenger. Y/N and Peter were regressors, but the only issue is that Tony was his caregiver and had passed away the year before. This caused him to struggle to regress, which would affect his crime-fighting. Luckily, Y/N, Bucky, and Steve had helped him get back to his old self, but being an Avenger was hard. Bucky and Y/N walked into their shared kitchen to have a quick snack before Steve and Peter came over.

She sat at the table and watched her caregiver cut fresh strawberries into tiny pieces for her. She eventually ate all her strawberries and patiently waited for Peter to arrive so she could play with her. She had never been mute when Peter came over to play, so Bucky knew to explain to Peter why she isn’t talking to him and how she is not being rude to him. Thankfully, Steve texted Bucky and told him that Peter was about 8 years old today. Bucky had completely forgotten to ask Y/N what age she was today, so he asked and she held up four fingers. “Aw such a good baby thank you for showing me four fingers, you’re so smart,” He cooed.

Steve came in with Peter rushing inside to find his friend Y/N. She got a little frightened by the rush and cowered and hid her face with the purple unicorn. Bucky placed a soothing hand on her arm as Steve reprimanded Peter for not keeping his composure. “Peter I told you she is younger than you right now. I know you are excited to see her but you need to apologize for giving her a scare,” Steve said. Peter walked up with his green plastic dinosaur with a sad look and apologized to her. Peter sat directly in front of her on the floor as she sat on the couch rubbing her unicorns fur. “Hey! I said I was sorry Y/N! Why are you ignoring me,” Peter whined. Steve quickly told him to lower his voice since the whining made her cower.

Bucky then explained why Y/N was acting the way she was. Peter seemed to understand that it was not his fault at all and seemed to get embarrassed. However, this made Peter even more caring of her. He felt the need to be protective of her now, to be her big brother. He quickly placed his favorite big green T-Rex next to her thigh as Peter ran to her playroom. Steve just sat and let Peter do what he wanted to do. Peter then came rushing back in taking all the squishes he could grab in his hands and bringing them inside the living room. He then placed them all on the couch which made her smile at Peter. He knew your dolls were like a security blanket to you.

You two played together for the whole day. Peter mostly would tell you stories he made up in his brain about dinosaurs and robots which would make you smile. He also helped you eat dinner, which was dino nuggets, french fries, and a Capri sun. He’d even give you an extra nugget just because he felt bad. Dessert was a pudding cup with sprinkles in it. Eventually, it was 8 pm which was your bedtime, Peter did not want to leave and pleaded that he stay the night. So Steve agreed and left him there with Bucky.

Both Y/N and Peter slept in the playroom on foldable beds that could be turned into chairs. A night light was turned on near the door as Bucky set up their beds. He opened the closet and pulled out two fuzzy princess and robot blankets for the two. Y/N walked up to her squish pile and handed Peter a dog squishmallow to sleep with. He ruffled her hair and said thanks as they both cuddled in their beds. Bucky stood by the door and smiled at the two. Y/N hugged two of her new squishes and wished that she had more to cuddle.

Drăguță - Cutie in Romanian

Tag list below

@dpaccione

#regressed!reader #little!reader #age regression fic #cg!bucky #bucky x little!reader

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distinctlywhumpthing · 3 years ago

Text

Together 7: First lash.

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CW: explicit language and content, multiple whumpees, torture, captivity, restraints, vomit, beating, blood, welts, hunger/starvation, conditioning, dehumanization, multiple whumpers, masked whumper (clown mask), letmeknowifimissedany

They’re taking her out when I wake up. She goes quietly. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. My empty stomach is nauseatingly sour. I pace the small room. The basement floor is damp like it’s absorbing moisture from below. I think about last night. Who knows how long she was silently crying. If she’s not going to talk, I should wait until I can see her face to make sure I don’t upset her again. I don’t know who these people are or why I’m here. I hate to think what it means if someone like her, so innocent and fragile, is here and acts like that.

I follow her example and cooperate when they collect me in their ski masks even though they put a pillowcase over my head and for all I know she’s never coming back. They take me into a room down the hallway and the floor is the same concrete the whole way. I keep having to swallow. My saliva feels thick and I can’t seem to get it out of my mouth no matter how much I gulp it down.

Heavy hands force me to my knees and pull my hands over my head. They bind my wrists in restraints, tightening them until I can feel the places the cotton padding has been worn down and the leather bites into my skin. I can’t help but picture her delicate wrists as the ones that broke them in. They do the same to my ankles, trapping me in an L-shape before pulling off the pillowcase and leaving me in the dark. It smells like metal. I think I’m chained to the floor and ceiling but there’s not a single link of slack.

I vomit thick spit and bile onto the floor. My stomach continues heaving even when all that’s left is saliva dragging its way down my lower lip. It sticks to my chin when I whip my head up at the sound of the door opening. I see a silhouette before they close us into darkness. A few seconds later, a light comes on. He’s dressed exactly like the others except, instead of a ski mask, he’s wearing a clown mask. We used to put on the scary versions with bloody, unnatural mouths and wrinkles in the rubber at the team house for the Halloween party every year, snaking the hose up the neck opening to do keg stands.

His mask is just smooth white with downturned eyes and a cartoonish smile—definitely worse than Twisty. It must be lined with black mesh because I can’t see anything underneath. He stands there, jeering at me. My tongue feels like a rock and my throat is still thick. I don’t know if I should say there’s been a misunderstanding or beg or just stay silent. I go with the latter, hoping that maybe that her silence is strategic. I try not to think about her spending any time here. He takes slow, measured steps forward to pick something up, let’s it unroll so I can see. All the moisture feels gone. I can’t even swallow.

I count the first handful of swings, still managing to stay quiet except for my breath. They’re burning and sharp.

When I lose count, I start begging, “Please stop, please I’ll do anything, please!!”

The welts begin to layer themselves into a blazing, throbbing ache.

“What do you wan—nnghh—”

I can’t breathe, my face is covered with spit, snot, and drool as I scream. The air doesn’t seem to reach my lungs but I know it’s there because it’s against my legs and the belt slices through it audibly with each swing.

I’m openly sobbing now. “I don’t even know why I’m h—agghhh—”

I dissolve into pleading incoherently. There’s a moment, between each blow, as the belt drags across the back of my calves, that a wild part of my mind panics that they’re gone completely because it doesn’t feel right, the whisper sensation, even pulling through the rawness, after the sharp pain. Eventually, it changes when the leather starts to drag through blood.

—

Something touches my face and I lash out. She’s already keeping her distance so, thankfully, I don’t hit her before I realize where I am.

“M’sorry,” I croak, trying to focus on her face. I can’t let myself focus on anything else.

She’s sitting on her heels, pressed into the corner between her bed and the cabinet, her fingers twisted together. When I meet her gaze, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the floor, lowering herself into my line of sight. Her wide eyes are puffy and rimmed with red.

I hate to think of her crying again.

She tilts her head to the side, gaze slipping from my face to my legs. When she looks at me again, she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth.

I don’t know if I can push myself up to really look. My head still feels heavy and clouded, either from the pain or from however long it has been since I last ate. I look over my shoulder as best I can, head aching when my eyes reach the limit of their range of motion. My calves are wrapped in clean white gauze and so are my feet. The borders of the pain had been so blurred, I had no idea it included my feet.

“S’not so bad,” I mumble.

I look back at her, too fast, and my head swims.

“Mnnnm,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut.

When I open them after a few breaths, she’s holding a cup of water. Tilts it gently against my lips so I don’t have to move. She gets me a second cup when I finish.

“Thank you, Doll,” I say, smiling what I hope is a non-threatening smile.

She dips her head once in a nod and looks me over again, bites her lip.

“What is it?” I ask, even though I’m guessing she won’t answer.

Her eyes look up to the bed.

There’s only one reason I’m not screaming in pain and that’s because I am not moving. I can pretend that the pain is a separate entity, far away. If I move, it will migrate, overbearing and all-consuming.

“I think I’ll just spend the night here,” I say casually like I’m just going to stay at my parents’ because I don’t feel like driving back to campus. I wonder if they even care that I’m missing.

She purses her lips and looks down at the floor.

It’s wet. I know this. I can feel that my clothes are damp but it’s just as likely sweat. It doesn’t feel particularly dirty even though I’m sure it’s also not clean.

“Sweetie, I don’t think I can move,” I whisper.

That doesn’t go over well. She seems so distraught by the idea. Her eyes flick all over the room like she’s hoping to suddenly find some other way to help me as she presses her trembling lips together. I find myself willing to undergo a little suffering if there’s any chance it will comfort her.

“Okay, hey—I’ll give it a try,” I offer, unconvincing in my attempt to sound light. I start pushing myself onto my hands and knees.

She rushes to help me even though she flinches away from me and I’m pretty sure I could overlap my fingers, maybe even twice, around her upper arm. I get my body onto the bed and then she proves herself stronger than she looks when she lifts my legs, one at a time, so I don’t have to.

I’m still winded and dizzy by the time I get up there. I’ve never felt so exhausted.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” I manage to huff.

That earns me a twitch of her lip. The closest thing I’ve seen to a smile since we met.

She brings me another cup of water. Helps me drink and then gently sweeps my hair off my forehead so she can dab a cool cloth there. She refolds the towel and leaves it draped over the back of my neck before moving to sit on her bed. She tucks her feet underneath her legs and starts playing with her hair. She finds a braid, undoes it, and seperates it into two even smaller braids, quickly, over and over. I fall asleep watching her long, nimble fingers.

—

She wakes me up later, or maybe it’s the next day, with another wet cloth but the first thing I notice is that I can smell food. Her gaze directs me to the two soups sitting on the metal cabinet but she looks back at me, furrowing her brow.

“I think I can sit up,” I say, guessing her concern.

She holds onto my shoulders as I do it, even though if I went down she’d go with me. I sit with my knees up and gingerly place my feet on the mattress in front of me. It seems they only caught stray lashes, so they aren’t feeling nearly as awful as my calves. I lean my head against the wall to catch my breath. I’m sweating and dizzy from the movement, I need to eat.

She comes to sit next to me with the soup, clearly intending to feed it to me with the plastic spoon.

I smile at her. “You’re such an angel—you don’t have to do that.”

She shakes her head, looking down, like she doesn’t mind, but passes me the soup anyway.

About halfway through scarfing it down, she reaches over to rest her fingertip on the handle of my spoon before I can use it to shovel more into my mouth.

“Oh, I should probably eat slower…”

She dips her head once in a nod, then looks down at her hands.

“You should eat, too, while it’s still hot,” I tell her.

Her dark eyes trace my posture and search my face.

I insist, “I’m feeling much better, I promise. Please eat.”

She turns and I notice the whole side of her face is bruising. It wasn’t there before, they must have taken her while I was asleep. Even the corner of her eye looks bloodshot.

“Hey, your face—” I say, reaching out without thinking.

She flinches out of reach so fast that she falls onto the ground, eyes locked on my hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly, trying to keep my voice soft. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Honey. I swear I won’t hurt you.”

She swallows, still cowering on the floor, her lower lip trembling. She’s so afraid and skittish, with those impossibly wide eyes that do something to me.

I wait for a few more breaths but she still hasn’t recovered. “Are you okay?” I whisper.

My question seems to make it worse. She closes her eyes, her face growing lined, and her breathing starts to silently hitch. She’s crying.

“Hey, hey,” I murmur. I have no idea how to comfort her when I have no idea what she’s been through and I’m the idiot making it worse. “Please, it’s okay. It’s just you and me. We’re alright, Love.” I don’t even know her name so I keep calling her nicknames, feeling even more insensitive because maybe it’s coming off wrong. I don’t know what else to do. This is so messed up.

She blinks at me, finally meeting my eyes again, fresh tears still falling from hers.

My throat aches. “Look, really, I’m sorry. Please, come eat with me. I promise I won’t hurt you—I won’t touch you. Will you sit next to me again?” I sound desperate.

After a few more breaths, she does, coming to perch on the edge of my bed within arms reach but just barely, like a bird about to fly away.

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Taglist: @deluxewhump

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sunset-curve-fantom · 4 years ago

Note

You could do one where the reader is a mean and scary girl who scares everyone and she is friends with the boys and likes Reggie. Until one day the boys go through her things and discover that she likes someone, but does not say who. They repent anyway because the reader finds out and gets angry making the boys afraid of her. Reggie, with a bit of courage, asks the reader who she likes and she confesses that she likes him and Reggie confesses back?

Warnings: None

A/N: I HOPE YOU ENJOY, I HOPE I DID THIS JUSTICE FOR YOU.

You had always been the girl everyone was terrified of, everywhere you went something terrible happened. Eventually, your friends began dropping out of your life, afraid of something happening to them for being in the same room as you.

So, you ended up being the freak, the person everyone was terrified of. You had lost so many people in your life; it seems everyone else was trying to avoid getting hurt as well. So, they just walked away when you needed people the most.

The only person who had enough courage to approach you was Julie Molina, bless her whole heart. She just lost her mom and she was going to confront the most mean and scary girl in her school.

“Excuse me?”

You turned around, hair swinging over your shoulder as you looked her up and down. Too busy to even care about her standing there. You turned back to your friends, “Excuse me” You heard again, but slightly more forceful.

“What” The anger was dripping from your words, everyone was terrified of you. Why wasn’t this girl? She just didn’t know when to walk away from a dangerous situation, meaning you.

“I just- can we have a moment skank’s?” She said, looking at your group of friends. This only make you laugh as you nodded at them.

“Well isn’t little Molina confident today, how can I help you?” She cowered back a little, almost afraid if she got too close something was going to happen. You had never actually hurt anyone, but lots of people close to you had died. Sets a bad precedent, I guess.

“Uh yeah- uh-uh-uh…”

“Spit it out, Molina” At this rate, she wasn’t going to tell you what she needed till Christmas.

“Uh- I was just thinking… I know you don’t have many close friends. And I know you lost your mom- so I was wondering if you wanted to come over after school? Just for a bit?” Julie said, almost scared of your reaction. No one has ever wanted to be your friend; let alone this girl you barely knew.

Your expression softened; it was not something you ever expected from her. She was the epitome of happiness and light, while you were so dark and full of sadness. It was an odd mix.

“Can I think about it? If that’s okay, Julie…” You said in a low voice, she nodded. Handing you a piece of paper with her phone number on it. To just let her know before the day was over.

This idea of a new friend, it brightened the anger you held in your soul. The mean and scary just became a way of deflecting the pain and suffering. It made you stronger and that was what was important, especially after such loss.

By third period, you had come to one conclusion. You were going to try your hardest to be friends with Julie Molina… and that was the first goal you had in many years.

You met Julie at the end of the day, walking back to her house. Deciding to spend your afternoon in the garage, you were surprised by the three boys sitting on the couch and chatting.

“Uh hi- I didn’t know you invited others?” You said, confusion clearly coating your features. While Julie was just stunned, clearly startled that you saw them.

“You can see them?”

You blinked rapidly and they were still there, “Uh yeah? Am I supposed to pretend they don’t exist or something?” You just chuckled under your breath, you found yourself quite funny.

The boys looked just as confused as Julie, “What?” You said again.

“They-they-uh they are ghosts…” Julie said, clearly waiting for your reaction. Instead of freaking out, you just sat your bag down before reaching out to the boy closest to you.

But your hand didn’t go through his shoulder, it just landed softly. As if he was really sitting in front of you. You whipped your head towards Julie, this girl you barely knew. You both were absolutely confused.

“Why-um I can touch him?” You said, swallowed the thick lump in your throat. Did you die and go to heaven or something? The boy you were touching finally spoke up,

“Well that’s a new occurrence because Julie goes right through us… And hi, I’m Reggie.” He said, clearly uncomfortable with his new reality. You could touch him, and it seems you are the only one who could.

“Well hi, uh I am Y/N. I just became friends with Julie today and this is totally weird but yet cool.” You said, the scary and mean behavior that everyone was used to, sliding off. Revealing the hurt, and scared girl underneath, who was trying so hard to hold herself together throughout the day.

You were in your own world before Julie spoke up, “And that’s Alex, and of course Luke. Ignore him, he flirts too much” You just laughed at her remark.

Instead of making one friend, you made four in one day. That is a whole new record.

The next few months were filled with some of the happiest times before you were faced with something new. A crush, a crush on a ghost. Like how do you even approach something like that? There is no book for it...

“Julie, what do I do? I have a crush on a ghost, he’s not living and technically I am a freak of nature and shouldn’t be able to see him” You huffed before landing on her bed. She just laughed at your reaction.

“You a crush? I thought you were all mean and scary and didn’t need anyone? Besides whom is-” Throwing a pillow at her before she could finish her statement, she laughed at your horrified reaction.

‘Seriously Jules… you don’t need to ask who it is; you already know just think about it” You said, handing her your journal. It was filled with lyrics and journal entries. It never mentioned a name, but it was clear that it was Reggie. He had opened a door into your world, that you never ever wanted to close.

She sat across from you, squealing at each entry. It was everything you didn’t know how to say, you had never been good with words. Especially after your mom died, it was hard to open up to anyone and be able to hold real relationships. That’s were the mean and scary persona comes in, when you hide your feelings. No one wants to be your friends, which means you didn’t have to open up. But that changed with Julie and the guys.

Julie was too busy squealing to herself, that she missed the boy’s poof in. She only noticed they had company when Alex spoke up, “Whatcha reading?”

He carefully made his way over to where Julie was sat, when you ripped the journal out of her hands, “It is none of your business, okay? You need to be rehearsing anyways” You said, placing the journal back into your bag. You and Julie made your way to the garage, but little did you know the guys stayed behind to read said journal.

In their eyes it was clear you had a crush, and it was bad. You were falling hard… They knew something had changed, as you didn’t come across so harsh anymore and you genuinely seemed happy, more often than not.

They put the journal back, and poofed into the garage before you and Julie got there, but the moment you saw them, you knew. You knew they had done something, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. That was until Luke started to sing YOUR song lyrics under his breath,

Life is a risk, but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump

Together, I think that we can make it

C'mon let's run

And rise through the night, you and I

We will fight to shine together, bright forever

You quickly turned around, glaring in Luke’s direction. The minute he caught your gaze, he knew he was in deep trouble, not only with you but with Julie.

You charged at him; every ounce of happiness drained from your face. “YOU?!? Do not tell me you did what I think you did…”

If he had blood running through his veins, he would be as pale as a literal ghost. He carefully backed away from you, hiding behind Alex

“We just wanted to know… Who is the guy? Cause you have been a lot happier recently” Luke said, you pushed Alex out of the way before making a beeline for Luke. You swiftly picked up a book from the piano and chucked it at his head. Of course, it hit him instead of going through.

“OUCH… I may have forgot you can do that. But we just wanted to know. You don’t have the scary façade anymore; you seem more genuine which is something we love to see. I didn’t even notice it at first, Reggie did.” Luke said, rubbing the back of his head. You whipped around again, this time looking at Reggie. He looked like he was going to shit his pants any moment.

“And what do you have to say? Cause it better be good” You said, stepping closer to him.

“I just- You seem more yourself, and I love to see that. I only wanted to know who this lucky guy was because you are one in a million. That’s all, I just wanted to know who he was and if he would take care of you the way you deserve” Reggie said honestly, it felt good to get it off his chest.

Alex just Aww’d in the background until you gave him a deathly glare.

“Reggie all you had to do was ask, you didn’t have to read my journal. It doesn’t really tell you anything.” You said, as Reg laughed under his breath. You were so caught up in him, you missed Julie escorting the boys out, in their words “at the best part”

You took a deep breath before finishing your statement, you could feel the tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

“Reg I have always the girl everyone was terrified of. I was scary and mean, and I had no one. Everyone, and I mean everyone hated me, and no one wanted to be my friend... I met Julie and that helped some, but you came into my life and you opened a door into my dark world. You fill everything with light, and I have fallen for you so hard. I have been so scared to even say something, I know my behavior has changed but that it because of you. You bring a happiness into my world that I never want to be without. It is you, Reg. I love you.” You said, hot tears pouring down your face.

He stepped towards you as he watched you fall apart. Reaching out he placed a warm hand to your cheek. His calloused thumb rubbing away tears. He wanted nothing more than to take away the pain from your past. He wanted nothing more than to fill your life everyday with happiness until he was unable to anymore.

“You, my love have no idea how much I have fallen for you. You aren’t scary or mean... you are perfect. That is all I see in you.” He said, placing a swift kiss to your forehead.

For the first time in your life, someone was deciding to stay instead of running away. You weren’t scary, you just needed to find the right person to bring a light into your life that you were missing.

Reggie was that light.

Taglist:

@notasofti @julies-molina @parkeret @calamitykaty @kcd15 @crybabyddl

@all-in-fangirl @gia-kerks @morganayennefertyrell

#julie molina #julie and the fat ones #julie and the phantoms #julie x reader #alex julie and the phantoms #reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie #reggie x reader #reggiesmut #alex #alex x reader #hollywood ghost club #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson smut #luke

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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“

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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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Ghost Story

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Mood board is mine pictures were taken from Pinterest- Message me for credit.

This come from the wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins prompt list- go check her out she’s the best!

Warnings: One swear word- and if you’re super scared of ghost stories don’t read.

A/N: I’m really proud of this one! The ghost story is called whispers and I found it on the huffington post, it’s originally about Christmas but I changed it to fit Halloween (Even though it’s August- I’m just really ready for Halloween)

Masterlist

italics are the ghost story

——

“This is a story I do not often tell. I promise, sincerely, that this has scarred me for life and although I have looked into psychological explanations for what I heard and natural explanations for what occurred, they remain unsatisfactory.” Spencer’s voice cut through the air in a whisper. The pine green walls of our softly lit apartment gave me a sense of security that Spencer was actively trying to break as he relayed his ghost story.

It was nearly Halloween, the 28th of October to be exact, also known as Spencer’s birthday. Honestly it was the only reason I indulged in his request of reading a scary story, any other day of the year I would have flat out refused. So there I was perched on our leather sofa, staring a hole into a slice of pumpkin pie that I had made for his special day trying to take my mind off of the story.

“When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it. They were not evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night for me to wake up and hear “whispers” as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they were just “bumps in the night” and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people’s voices do. On some nights I would get so scared from these “whispers” that I would sleep in my mom’s bed with her.” I now understood why he was so eager to share a ghost story with me tonight, the story paralleled his own journey with his fear of the dark. We both had a shared sentiment of fear surrounding dark corners, but Spencer was far braver than I when it came to the dark, after all he saw the worst of humanity everyday at work.

“I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor (as my mom’s bedroom was on the second floor). On one such night, around Halloween, I awoke and felt the need to go to the bathroom. I walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase “Look!” and to my astonishment, an orange light, almost like a spotlight, was cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it.” The inflection that he had adopted to tell the story chilled my bones, making me feel as if I was a skeleton in the dead of winter.

The pumpkin pie was no longer enough to stare at so my gaze wandered to the knickknacks that adorned the apartment. The spotlight in the story eerily mirrored the decorations we had strung up, the string of pumpkin lights basked us in an orange glow aiding in the creepy persona Spencer had taken up. Puppets in white shrouds, freshly carved jack o'lanterns, and handmade black construction paper bats also furnished our home to give the appropriate mood for Halloween. Spencer and I had spent a whole weekend that he had off from work decorating our apartment to the nines. I detested the horrifying aspects of Halloween, but that didn’t mean I hated the holiday. I reveled in the fact that for one day a year I could be someone else, letting my imagination take the reigns of my life even though it was only for a night.

“Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Halloween, I KNEW what this light was. IT WAS JACK SKELLINGTON!!!My parents had just let me watch a Nightmare before Christmas, he must be visiting! I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.” My heart felt stuck in my throat as I sat at the edge of the couch, anxiously awaiting the dreaded jump scare that I could feel creeping up around me. No matter how formulaic ghost stories tended to be I was still tricked every time getting sent into a state of fright, my body always getting a stab of panic and a jolt of terror.

“That’s when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my father’s (not to say he isn’t masculine, it was just distinctly different). It said, “Stop! Right now. Go back up those stairs.” I listened, turned around, and what happened next I am not sure I would believe if someone had told me this same story. After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH” As If on cue from Spencer’s voice a loud clap of thunder shattered through our curtained windows, the sudden sound sent me cowering under my burgundy plush throw which swaddled me like a scared baby. My shaking form didn’t even notice that the story had stopped or that Spencer had retreated into the darkness. My eyes peeked out from under the blanket, the apartment was full of blackness- the power must’ve gone out. All I could see was the pale moonlight creeping through the drapery as my eyes darted trying to locate Spencer.

“Spencer?” I murmured into the shadows- no one answered back from the depths.

“Boo!” Spencer suddenly popped up behind the couch causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

“Fuck! Spencer Walter Reid!” I picked up one of our pillows, chucking it in the direction where I believed him to be hiding. His shriek permeated the apartment as he shielded himself from my wrath with what appeared to be candles. He must’ve retreated to find candles we had stashed in our bathroom when the power shut off.

“Most power outages will be over almost as soon as they begin, but some can last much longer – up to days or even weeks. Power outages are often caused by freezing rain, sleet storms and/or high winds which damage power lines and equipment.” He spouted off at me to try and quell my anger while setting down candles on the coffee table preparing them to be lit. From out of his pocket Spencer produced a disposable lighter- I always let him handle them because my fingers often got burned on them. Stroking the wheel, the lighter sparked to life lighting the apartment once more, soothing my frazzled state.

“I guess that’s kind of comforting…”

“Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” The soft gleam of the candle flickered on my skin, illuminating the cringe that made its way onto my face.

“No thanks Spencer- I’d rather cuddle.” He flashed me a little stupid grin that I adored and joined me back on the couch. Spencer swathed the blanket around us settling into his position as the big spoon, the combined feeling of my boyfriend and the velvet like blanket made me feel impervious to the outside world. I nuzzled against his neck sinking deeper into the sofa, letting the soft edges of sleep overtake me, Spencer had a way with cuddles that almost always immediately lulled me to sleep. Sometime later when our pumpkin pie had been long forgotten the lights flicked back on, the fluorescent bulbs combined with the still glowing candles lit our sleeping figures.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fluff #fluff #halloween #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

Text

First year: Sorting

[MasterList] Requests are open! [Purple Magic Masterlist]

This is a BTS Harry Potter au.

As jungkook is sorted into ravenclaw by himself I put Army (Ami) with him. I hope you all enjoy.

Kim Seokjin was nervous; he stood among the first years shuffling in place he wanted to make a good impression and took it upon himself to make a series of bad puns whilst waiting. Making a few of his surrounding first years giggle.

“Kim Seokjin!”

He tensed for a second in shock, before he rolled his shoulders back, stealing his expression and walking up to the lone stool. Poise and posture screaming his pureblood status.

His family was Gryffindors but he wasn’t too worried about where he was placed as long as he was a wizard. He had chosen Hogwarts as his hero’s had once walked these halls Fred and George Weasley, founders of the most famous joke shop in Diagon Alley.

The sorting hat covered his eyes hiding him from the hall of students. But his ears burned knowing everyone was watching him.

“Gryffindor!” Jin’s plump lips pulled up into a smile as he walked to his house table.

Min Yoongi was standing amongst the crowd, not really comfortable being on show to the whole student body. His mother and father were muggles and didn’t really approve of the idea of magic.

They believed things should come from hard work and real jobs, not waving wands and making wishes. Yoongi knew there had to be more to it, he knew he had been a bit different and he wanted to explore this new part of him.

“Min Yoongi!”

He strolled up the small platform slowly not deeming it necessary to rush, his hands buried in his sleeves as he sat atop the stool. There was a small sick feeling in his chest watching everyone watch him but he never let himself cower his father always taught him to hide unwanted emotions.

“Slytherin!”

He took off the hat and slowly walked to the Slytherin table, he heard whispers.

“That guy looks scary no wonder he is in Slytherin”

“Looks like an evil Slytherin alright?”

“I bet he is a pure-blood he doesn’t even care”

Yoongi sat down and focused on the rest of the sorting, wishing this whole ordeal was over he wanted to eat and go to bed.

Hoseok was bouncing on his toes he watched as the students all took turns being sorted and could hardly hold back his excitement. The sorting hats song had stuck in his head and he was tapping his feet to the tune.

His parents were both magic folk, his mother and father were both Ravenclaws and it was expected that he too should follow the family name and be sorted into Ravenclaw.

Hoseok was just excited to be in the legendary castle, where he could learn magic and so much more.

“Jung Hoseok!”

Hoseok ran up the stairs and spun in front of the chair before sitting on top. His feet tapped happily against the legs of the stool.

“Hufflepuff!” Hoseok grinned, leaping off the chair and returning the hat before racing to the table, clapping the loudest he sat excited, his smile never faltering.

His father wouldn’t be too happy but for now, he didn’t care, it was about time he defied the old man to make and follow his own dreams.

Kim Namjoon was tall and lanky; he felt like he was completely out of place sticking out like a weed among the first years. He hoped to be in Ravenclaw like his father. His mother was so brave when she found out about magic and was proud when Namjoon was accepted into Hogwarts.

He watched students step up to the small raised platform in front of the teacher’s table, the sorting hat placed on their heads, and then after several minutes they would be sorted scurrying off to their house tables.

Yes, he had analyzed each step repeatedly until it was engraved in his head.

Walk. Sit. Hat. Sort. Scurry to house table.

“Kim Namjoon!”

He walked towards the small stool tripping on the step and sprawling over the platform, he scurried to the stool, knocking it over in the process, and scrambled to lift the small seat back into place.

A small chorus of giggles erupted about the room as he sat on the smooth surface cheeks inflamed, he was humiliated. No, he knew his worth and he was used to these kinds of clumsy moments.

The hat sank over his head and he calmed himself with a breath. “Stick to the plan Namjoon.” He muttered

“Gryffindor!”

In shock, Namjoon raced away to the Gryffindor table hat still on his head, he returned it ears red and sat across from a fellow Gryffindor first year who was laughing hysterically.

“You are hilarious, call me Jin.”

Jimin was standing perfectly still, his body light and ready for action, he was trained to be perfect. His parents had him tutored from a young age, he learned many aspects of magic, he even had his fair share of duels before the age of eleven.

He wanted to be a protector, he was supposed to become an Auror, but he wanted people to think of him as more of an angel, to hear his voice and find themselves healing.

“Park Jimin!”

With calculated steps and perfect poise, he sat atop the stool swinging one leg over the other gracefully. He hoped wherever he was sorted he would become the best.

“Slytherin!” The hat had barely touched his head, but Jimin fixed his hair with a smile and headed off to the Slytherin table.

He sat beside another first-year who looked seconds away from falling asleep, as the sorting continued Jimin allowed the young man's head to rest upon his shoulder.

Taehyung was looking around amazed, he couldn’t believe the roof was full of twinkling stars and there were candles floating in mid-air, he swished his robes happily and watched the funny hat talk.

He watched the other students get sorted and could hardly wait his turn. Almost jumping the gun when several Kim’s were called upon. Curse him for a common family name.

“Kim Taehyung!”

He wondered what magic they would learn, perhaps he could be like the wizard Gandalf and make fireworks. Wait, was Gandalf real?

“Kim Taehyung!”

Taehyung snapped out of it and raced up the steps laughing, “that’s me hello!”

“Please take a seat.”

He sat on the stool legs swinging happily as the hat sat on his head, it was an odd sensation. “Hello, Hat can you read my thoughts?”

“In a way yes”

“Wow, that’s so cool!”

“Hufflepuff!” The hat shouted and cheering began, Taehyung raced to the lively table and sat down beside some first years.

“Hello?” He smiled holding his hand out to one a first-year girl who mustn’t have heard his greeting, but a hand reached out to shake his.

“Hoseok but you can call me Hobi”

“You can call me TaeTae” Taehyung giggled.

Jungkook stood awkwardly amongst the students, not exactly knowing what to do or say he wasn’t very sociable. He grew up knowing his mother was a witch and his father was completely enraptured by her. Not magically like a love potion just truly and innocently in love with the fiery woman.

Jungkook didn’t really have good interactions with girls, his mother was very beautiful, kind, loving, and funny. But because of this, he was a little bit intimidated by girls, they were just so cool. He watched one young girl named Ami getting sorted, she seemed as nervous as Jungkook, she fiddled with her robes jumping when the hat shouted. “Ravenclaw!”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

Jungkook walked up the steps and sat on the small stool he too gripped his robes looking about the hall, the hat drooped over his eyes and he wondered how exactly how the hat worked, he wondered how much he would learn and if he could be half as smart as his mother he would be happy.

He just wanted to make his family proud.

“Ravenclaw!”

Jungkook gave a small smile and followed the same path as the girl before him and sat down beside her.

“Hey, I am Van Ami,” she whispered, “are you as nervous as I am?”

“Jeon Jungkook,” He blushed but nodded a cheeky smile blooming on his face.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #hmsblackswan #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts hp au #bts harry potter #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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yugfics · 4 years ago

Photo

Flinching During an Argument lim jaebeom (angst, fluff)

It was a Friday, so you were home from work earlier than usual. Your boyfriend, Jaebeom, was back in Korea after GOT7 had travelled to America for concerts, so you'd moved in with him for a while to make up for not seeing him.

He'd told you that evening that he and the other members were going to JYPE for something and would be back a bit late. You sat on the couch using your phone, and as it began to get dark, you wondered whether you should make something for dinner.

Just as you were about to text JB to ask him in how long he'd be home, there was the sound of the front door unlocking and he entered the house.

"Beom," you started, standing up and walking towards him. "I was just about to text you...?" you noticed something was off. He slammed the door and walked right past you like you weren't there.

"Jaebeom?" you asked, before he disappeared upstairs, the sound of a slamming door reaching you after a few moments.

Standing in silence for a while, you wondered what had happened. He'd been fine that morning before you'd gone to work, and he was fine when he told you he'd be going to JYPE. Something must've happened there, then.

In your year of dating JB, you'd seen him angry a few times and knew how scary he could be, but that anger had never been directed at you.

Deciding you would go try to talk to him and make him feel better, you walked upstairs and towards the room he used to write songs, knocking.

After a few moments, you heard a faint "What?". Taking that as your cue, you opened the door and walked in. Your boyfriend was sitting at his chair and didn't even look up when you entered.

"JB," you began, but he put his earphones in. "I'm busy," he told you.

"But..."

"Can you get me something to drink? And why haven't you made dinner?"

You bit your lip. Why was he acting like this?

"Beom, I wanted to talk to you," you told him, but he obviously wasn't listening. You stood, wondering what to do.

Noticing you again, he asked: "Why are you still here?"

He was being uncharacteristically rude and you had to stop yourself from pointing it out, turning around and leaving the room. Under other circumstances you wouldn't tolerate anybody treating you like that, but you knew fighting fire with fire would only end up with more fire, so you held your tongue and decided you'd talk to him about it when he felt better.

Entering the kitchen, you retrieved his favourite cup and started making coffee for him. You were nervous, though, and unknown to you, took out of the salt jar instead of the sugar jar.

Coffee in hand, you walked back up the stairs and into his room. He didn't look away from his writing as you set the cup down next to him.

'He'll be fine later, and he'll apologise and we'll talk and everything will be okay' you told yourself, returning to the kitchen.

Looking around, you decided to make something for the both of you to eat. About to begin, you heard a door opening and JB coming down the stairs.

Wondering what he wanted, you turned around, only to see him heading angrily towards you. He set the cup on the table with a slam that echoed in the silence.

"Wh-"

"What the fck, y/n? Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, walking towards you as you stood confused in front of the kitchen counter. "Is this funny to you?"

"I-"

"Here I am, having a shit day, hoping for some fcking peace and you decide to ruin it!"

Tears pricked your eyes, as you watched him, confused as to what you'd done wrong and afraid because of how angry he was. "Jae-"

"Isn't it enough that I have to deal with you every day?!" he shouted, raising his hand to gesture aggressively.

You thought he was going to hit you, and your reflexes acted up, cowering away from him and letting out a small yelp. Nothing happened, and you sank to the floor, not looking at your boyfriend.

There was silence for a few painful moments.

"You thought I was going to hit you,"

It came out as a statement, not a question, more like Jaebeom was realising what was happening. The fact that you were on the floor and in tears because of him seemed to slam into him, and he got on the floor next to you, reaching his hand towards your shoulder. "y/n,"

You turned away from him, not wanting to be near him, what he'd said and the way he'd behaved still hurting you.

He hesitated momentarily, the frustrated tone in his voice being replaced by a sad one. "I didn't mean it," he told you, moving closer to you, only for you to stand up, not meeting his eye, before walking away and leaving him to watch you from the floor.

Mildly, he punched the floor with his fist, knowing full well that he'd fcked up.

*** You sat on the bed in your shared bedroom, hugging your knees in silence as the light coming from beyond the open door poured into the room.

The house had been silent for around half an hour and you were beginning to fall asleep, your crying having tired you out. You lay down, facing away from the door and pulling the blanket over yourself.

Your eyes were beginning to droop when you heard footsteps and your boyfriend entering the room. You didn't turn around.

Nothing was said for a while, and you wondered if he'd left after seeing that you seemed asleep. Turns out he hadn't. "You know, I would never hit you,"

You didn't reply.

The bed dipped slightly as he sat on the edge. "I'm sorry. Today was just a shit day. Worked really hard on a song only to have it rejected, and I guess I was just tired and frustrated and angry. That's not an excuse for taking it out on you, and I'm sorry. No matter how angry I am, though, I want you to know that I would never hit you,"

Listening in silence, you sat up when he was done and moved to sit by his side. "You know you can always talk to me, right? I don't want you to keep everything in like that. If you share your frustrations with me, maybe it'll help make them feel a little less frustrating," you smiled softly, looking at him.

He smiled back. "Okay, I will,"

"Thank you," you replied, and felt him take your hand in his.

"What did you, uh, do to my coffee, though?"

Confused, you shook your head. "I did everything I always do. Why?"

"It tasted horrible,"

*** You lifted his cup to your lips, tasting the coffee you'd made for him. "Ew," you said, setting it back onto the dining table and grimacing. "What did I do to it?"

Jaebeom followed you to the kitchen counter as you looked at what you'd used.

"Salt," you realised.

"Salt?"

Showing him the unlabeled jar, you explained. "I put salt instead of sugar,"

There was a silence for a moment before you both started laughing. _____________ this is @yug.fics on instagram!

#got7 #got7imagines #got7imagine #jaebeom

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fanficfeeling · 5 years ago

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Don’t Cry - Geralt x Reader

A/N: Once again, my deepest apologies that this took so long. I’m in the process of moving right now, so everything’s been getting put on the back burner! I’m trying to speed up the requests. This also became sort of a little passion prjoect for what I’d do when I was feeling stressed, so even though I tried to keep the heavier topics held back, that probably bled through a little bit here. Hope you enjoy none the less!

Request: May I request “don’t cry” for Geralt? 😊 please and thank you! for Anon!

Warnings: Language, stress/a breakdown, life getting heavy, getting fired, angst but like just for the reader and no one else and it all works out in the end

Word Count: 1914

Requests are open!

~~~

It was all just getting to be a little too much.

First, your parents had been pestering you about trying to marry you off. For the sake of your own pride, you had to had fight them on that, at least.

Then, it seemed as if everything in your life was changing just a little too quickly. Many of your childhood friends had been moving away for some reason or another. Your parents were about to move into a better house, anyway, so even if they couldn't marry you off, you'd still be moving to the other side of town with them. On top of it all, you'd gotten a new job.

You worked at the local tavern as a server, and it was rough, to say the least. Fast-paced, demanding, sometimes all-consuming. Everything stacking on top of each other, plus all the other little things irritating you about your day-to-day, were culminating into some sort of breakdown of your sanity, you could feel it.

The best part about your job so far had been getting to meet Geralt of Rivia. He had shown up while traveling, as your village was often an easy resting point for travelers, and while everyone else had cowered away from the big, scary witcher, you had been fascinated. When everyone else refused to serve him, you jumped at the opportunity. He had seemed... disinterested, at first, at the way you eagerly served him with a smile, but you made a few more attempts to talk to him. Trying to get him to open up to you, you forgot about a lot of your problems, just for the evening.

By the end of the night, he promised he would be back to see you again soon.

~~~

"Darling? Wake up! You're going to be late for work if you keep sleeping in like this!"

You sigh, sitting up, and rubbing your eyes in discontent. All you want is some rest, but of course, you couldn't be granted even that much.

"Dear, did you hear me? I said-"

"Yes, mother! I heard you!"

"Well, get up then!"

"I am."

You don't mean to be snippy, but you know that if you sit with her before you leave, she'll start nagging you about all the things she thinks you should be doing. You get dressed slowly, and go about as much of your morning routine as possible within the confines of your own room.

When you finally exit, you head straight for the front door.

"Dear? Where are you-"

"Work."

"But shouldn't you-"

"I'll eat at work."

You don't mean for the door to slam behind you - alright, maybe you do just a little bit - but it does.

Your walk to work isn't exactly a walk in the park.

You're taking your time, trying to enjoy the stroll, when suddenly your life is flashing before your eyes as someone's rogue cart almost runs you over. You watch as a farmer goes running after it, yelling back to you, "Sorry! So sorry!"

He's already gone, but you mumble to yourself, "It's fine." You take a deep breath. "It's completely fine."

Soon after, you get stopped by an old friend.

"How are you? How've you been?"

"I've... been." You respond, meekly, not being able to muster up enough energy to put on a happy mask.

"Sounds like you're having a rough time of it then! What's the matter?"

Someone to listen to you? Finally?

"Oh, it's just a couple of big things on top of a lot of small things, and it's just really building up recently. My parents won't stop nagging me even though I'm grown, and my new job is a lot to handle, and I just-"

"Eh, sounds like just a lot of nothing you need to shake off. Just go with the flow of it, why don't you?"

The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, "Ah, maybe you're right. I really should be on my way, have to get to work." You make a hasty exit, remembering why you had all but stopped talking to that friend a while ago.

You're musing on the fantasy of having someone to listen to you complain without judging you, when suddenly you feel a deep whack against your back.

"Ow!" You yelp, rubbing your back where your spine aches and spinning around, only to find a group of children chasing after the ball that had just attacked you.

"Sorry!" They all chime, some giggling, some looking apologetic. You can't stop yourself when you fix them all with a sharp glare, proclaiming, "You all better be careful or you're going to end up hurting somebody!" Some of them have the decency to look alarmed, and they all scamper off at your words, as you turn around, hoping to walk off the light damage you received.

Next, you find a black cat crossing your path. You might not be superstitious, but goddamnit, on top of everything else, this has to happen.

Finally, you make it to your place of employment. Inside is already chaos.

Your coworkers scramble around, trying to lighten the load, and customers talk and sing and chew loudly, and you're just about already completely overwhelmed.

The bartender spots you quickly, and immediately barks at you to, "Get to work!"

You spend the next few hours doing just that.

~~~

The next time you get to slow down is when the entire establishment goes quiet. You almost don't notice, but one glance at the door and you could never miss the interruption. You smile and every other person in the room glowers or grimaces or frowns, as Geralt of Rivia walks through the door, quiet and large, brooding and analytical. He ignores the stares and whispers, and makes his way over to the bar, waiting, until eventually people begin to resume their conversations.

You bustle in his direction immediately, thanking the universe that at least one good thing could happen today.

"Well, if it isn't the mighty witcher, back again." You lean against the bar across from him.

You swear he smiles just a little, "I said I would be, didn't I?"

You chuckle lightly. "If the common rabble is to be believed, your word is worth nothing."

"How unfortunate then that my word is about all I have."

You nearly have to physically shake your head to shake off the spell this man casts on you. "Is there anything I can get you?"

You resume your work, trying your damnedest to stop and talk to Geralt as often as you can. He's patient, willing to put conversations on hold and resume them as your available time allows. He listens when you speak, and easily captures your attention when he does. It may have been in broken pieces, but this is the most enjoyable conversation you've had in many weeks.

You serve one table that's been at it for hours once more, and before you head back over to Geralt, you decide to stop and take a breath, just for a moment. You close you eyes and breathe deeply, blocking out the noise and doing your best to pretend you're somewhere else. An escape, for just a couple of seconds.

That is, until your boss' voice begins ringing in your ears, loudly, "What are you doing, standing around? Get back to work!"

To put it gently, you snap.

You can't sense yourself screaming, but you hear your own voice, loud, shrieking. You don't feel much of any sensation at all other than light-headedness, and a vague sense of nausea, and you see red.

The next thing you feel is arms. Large, gently taking hold of you - guiding you away. You fight it, because what the hell? But you get tugged away anyway by this force that is much stronger than you are and you soon give up. By the time you begin to come down enough to process the world around you, all you can see is the door, and all you can hear is, "-and don't come back!"

You look and see that the one who had dragged you away is none other than Geralt of Rivia, and you're stunned into silence as you process your own actions.

What was I thinking?

I wasn't.

I just got fired.

How could I do that?

Geralt leads you off to the nearest spot where you can sit down without prying eyes, which happens to be near the tree line of the forest. Without prompting, you collapse on the ground, and promptly burst into tears.

I lost my job because I couldn't keep my cool, and for what? Mother and father will be so angry, and everyone will know and think I'm a failure. Maybe mother and father are right, if I can't even handle life-

It startles you when you feel a hand gently come to rest on your back. It shocks you to hear Geralt's voice say, "Don't cry."

You look at him, and he seems uncomfortable, but not eager to leave you alone. You quickly try to wipe away your tears, mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"You have no reason or need to apologize to me." That gets the waterworks going again, and whatever control you had been gaining disappears.

He sits in silence with you as you lose that control, but it seems he eventually can't control his curiosity anymore, or he figures asking will make the crying go away faster, when he asks, "What was that about?"

You manage to sniffle your way through a sentence, "I just couldn't take it all anymore, I'm sure you don't want to hear about it."

"I'm willing to listen if it would help to talk, though."

The floodgates were really released then, as you rush to speak your problems like Geralt would disappear before your eyes if you took too long. Parents. Moving. Job. Overwhelmed. No one will listen. Ages of feeling completely alone. By the time you're reaching the end of all you need to say, your tears are winding down, and Geralt hasn't said a word.

"And I know other people have bigger problems than I do, I really do, but that doesn't stop it from feeling like I'm suffocating, all the time. It feels stupid, saying I feel like I just can't do it anymore, although I suppose I just handled one part of it, but I really, really do feel that way. Laugh, if you must, but that won't change the fact that these circumstances I find myself in leave me... miserable."

"Makes sense to me."

You blink in surprise. That was the last thing you expected him to say. "What?"

"Just because you have what most would consider a good life doesn't mean it's all good, and doesn't mean it's meant for you. Most wouldn't look at me and be envious but I think I'd have quite the same reaction as you to those stressors, much sooner than you did. It's not meant for everyone."

"If only I had a choice in the matter, right?"

"You do. No one can make you do anything, least of all listen to everything your parents tell you to do or keep you in a shitty job you hate."

"Well what else am I meant to do, then?"

He examines you for a moment, then shrugs, "Come with me."

"...I'm sorry?"

"Maybe a life of traveling would suit you better."

You think back to the moment before your meltdown, how you had been desperately wishing you were anywhere else. It seems a foolish proposition, but... maybe he's right?

After a brief conversation with your scandalized parents, you were gone by morning.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher show #geralt #fanfiction #the witcher netflix #gender neutral reader #reader #request #don't cry #prompt list

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turning-the-frigging-frogs-gay · 4 years ago

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Underneath The Spotlight- A Sanders Sides Fic

Taglist: @sophiexteresa

Chapter 11- Logan Berry: Dancer, Organiser, Techie... Boyfriend?

(Read chapter 1 here!)

(Read here on ao3!)

Warnings for this chapter: mild curse word

A/N: did anyone order Logince??? Also, I love how this chapter came out, I hope you do too :D

Harrison and Bailey were the two techies stationed at stage left of the theatre where the show was taking place, however their distinct personalities had earned them the nicknames Heart and Brain. The two had become inseparable throughout their time managing the theatre lighting and made a great team, Brain making sure every performer could be seen and Heart adding the symbolism and meanings to the lighting designs. Heart loved his job and was awed at getting such a close view of every performance that came and went from their theatre. Earlier in the show, during the ballroom dance, Heart had been watching the routine with curiosity.

“Brain, hey Brain!” he whispered, nudging his partner.

Brain sighed. “Yes, Heart?” they asked, turning to him.

“Look, look! That little guy in light blue, with the freckles and glasses! The really short one!”

“I see, yes.”

“Look how he looks at his partner. Brain, he’s in loooooveee!!!”

“I do see the signs, yes,” Brain replied. “How he never takes his eyes off of him, and the smiling and blushing. However his partner, the one in yellow, is probably doing it even more.”

“OH MY GOSH, YOU’RE SO RIGHT!”

“Heart, keep your voice down!”

“Sorry... but I totally see what you mean! Those two are absolutely smitten, it’s so cute! Oooohhh, let’s see if we can spot any other couples!”

“Over there, those two,” Brain said immediately. “Both really tall, one in red, one in dark blue.”

“Oh my gosh yeeessss!! They’re both such good dancers as well! It’s almost like they’re trying to impress each other. They make such a perfect couple, Brain!”

The other gave a small smile.

“Oh and look, over there! Green and purple, green and purple!”

“Ah yes, although their dancing skills are more... lacking, shall one say?”

Heart nudged them lightly. “Don’t be mean! They don’t have to be perfect dancers, but you can see they’re supporting each other and both trying their best. I bet they really take care of each other.”

Brain moved closer to their partner. “Like I take care of you?”

“Braiiiinnnnn! Not nowwww!” Heart whined, blushing.

“I apologise. Let’s leave the romancing to them, shall we?” they said, gesturing to the three waltzing couples.

Back at the current stage in the show, well into the second half, Logan and Roman were waiting in the wings for the tap dance, containing Logan’s big solo. His tap solos were fast, furious and one missed beat could ruin the whole thing. However he always seemed to execute them perfectly, captivating every single audience member with his rhythmic and technical precision.

“Are you nervous?”

“Slightly, although thanks to your talk earlier I now have no doubt that I am capable of doing this.”

“That’s the spirit, Lo! You’re gonna do amazing! And don’t forget I’ll be supporting you all the way.”

“Thank you Roman...”

The lights came up and the music began, signalling the start of the routine. The main part of the dance went well, everyone putting in their all with the technique and performance, delivering a great routine. Towards the end, all the other dancers retired to the back of the stage, ready for Logan’s solo.

“You can do this Logan,” he swore he heard Remus say

“Show everyone how great you are!” Patton’s voice came in his head.

“You got this, you nerd,” Virgil seemed to tell him.

“You are a fantastic dancer, never doubt yourself,” Janus’ voice said.

“Logan... I love you,” were the final words Logan heard from Roman.

They were all right. He could do this. Step... prepare... five, six, seven, eight-

The rest of the dancers watched with pride as Logan began his tap solo, most of them barely following the moves he seemed to be doing at hyper-speed. Logan did move after move perfectly in time, never once missing a beat, tapping out an extremely fast and complex rhythm with his shoes. The audience watched, in awe... they weren’t the only ones. Roman stood, watching his boyfriend, mesmerised...

“God, I love that tap-dancing nerd...”

There was little time to marvel over Logan’s skills after the routine, as most of the dancers had another routine soon, Roman almost immediately. After his very intense solo, Logan took a walk around backstage in order to catch his breath back a bit. While wandering around stage left, he overheard a couple of the techies talking.

“Oh no, Brain, it looks like the centre-stage spotlight is broken!” the shorter of the two techies said.

The other, taller techie winced. “That is the spotlight we need for the next dance, the best dancer in the school is performing a solo. What will we do?”

“I dunno, Brain, maybe we could try-“

Logan pondered. The best dancer in the school... they must be talking about Roman. Logan recalled his boyfriend did indeed have a solo as part of the next routine, and the broken spotlight would bring him even more unneeded stress. Logan himself had some tech skills. He sighed- it was worth a shot. He approached the techies, the tap shoes he was still wearing tapping against the floor.

“Salutations,” he said. “I overheard that the two of you were having an issue?”

“Aren’t you one of the dancers?” the taller techie (Brain?) asked.

“Indeed I am, however I thought I may be able to assist you with the broken spotlight problem.”

“I dunno, I mean we’re really not supposed to let performers use the lighting unit, let alone kids...” said the smaller techie Logan believed to be called Heart.

“I am sixteen, there is no need to belittle me or act like I don’t know anything.”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t trying to belittle you or anything! I just don’t think there’s anything any of us can do about this.”

“I agree,” said Brain. “The dancer will just have to dance without his spotlight.”

That made Logan livid. He knew full well that Roman, his boyfriend, deserved only the best. He was a stunning dancer and deserved to perform under the most flattering conditions, so everyone could see just how amazing he was. And if no one else could provide that for him, Logan was more than willing to take it into his own hands.

“Look, okay? We have a few minutes until the spotlight is needed, and I don’t need to be onstage for a while now. I think you’ll find that it is very much possible, and that I will be fixing this spotlight.”

He stamped his tap shoe on the floor in determination, making Heart jump and cower behind his partner. Even Brain took a step back, in shock.

“He’s being scary! It’s like those really demanding people from the posh ballet school all over again! Brain, do something!”

Brain shrugged.

“I trust the guy. Go ahead and see what you can do, umm...”

“Logan. Logan Berry.”

“I think you can fix it, Logan,” Brain said.

“Me too, I believe in you!” Heart chirped.

The problem was relatively simple. Logan had it fixed within a few minutes, and the techies did not do well at hiding their shock.

“Wow... you actually fixed it,” Brain said, looking over the lighting unit then giving Logan an impressed glance.

“Oh my goodness you did it!” Heart half-squealed. “Logan you are so clever and kind and skilful and selfless and helpful and smart and you saved our butts and you-“

Just as Heart looked as if he were about to lurch forwards and hug Logan, Brain placed a calming hand on their partner’s shoulder.

“Heart. Calm. Remember to be professional.”

“Sorrryyyy,” Heart shrank back, a blush dusting his freckled face.

Logan smiled. “You are very welcome.... I should probably return to my dressing room now. I don’t doubt that some catastrophe may have occurred in my absence.”

Brain chuckled. “My sincere thanks, Logan, we couldn’t have done this without you.”

Logan smiled, one of his rare, genuine, not just plastered on for a performance smiles. “You are most welcome.”

Roman was already dashing out of the dressing room when Logan returned. He stumbled towards him and frantically placed his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Logan! I heard about some trouble with lighting, is everything ok back there?”

“Yes, do not worry, everything is fine now,” Logan replied, however his words did not have their desired calming effect.

Roman immediately frowned. “What do you mean ‘now’?”

“Oh, there was a small trouble regarding a spotlight for the next dance, but I managed to fix it, nothing major really. I merely examined the lighting unit, I spotted the issue and it was quite simple so I recalibrated the...” Logan’s words tailed off as he took in the look on his boyfriend’s face. “...wh-what’s the matter?”

“Logan... you did all that so I could have my spotlight?”

“Well, of course... because I love you-“

Logan was immediately cut off by Roman throwing his arms around him, holding him tight as he seemed to fight back tears.

“Thank you. Logan... you didn’t have to do that... I... has anyone ever told you how incredible you are?”

No words were necessary, as they both held each other tight, forgetting for a moment the chaos ensuing around them, as everything melted away into-

“ROMAN! So that’s where you’ve been!” Emile Picani once again thrust his head through the backstage door, this time looking even more infuriated than the last. “You’re literally on right now, we’ve had to stall the music for you! Get your ass in here now!”

Logan and Roman exchanged a shocked glance. If Emile swears at you, you know you’re in for it. Roman began sprinting towards the stage without a word. Logan was left stunned, with more confidence than he could remember having in a long time. He stood there, grinning like an idiot for a good few seconds until Remus approached him, mockingly wiggling his eyebrows.

“Jeez, dude, stop simping for my bother,” he said, causing Logan to blush bright red and snap back into his usual serious manner.

“Remus, cut it out,” he snapped. “You should be getting ready, we all have the big group number soon, where’s everyone else?”

Remus gestured awkwardly inside the dressing room. “Comforting Patton,” he whispered. Logan suddenly remembered the bold red mark he had put on Patton’s column of the spreadsheet, the seemingly impossible feat his childhood friend had been anxious about for months. He sighed.

“Then I suggest we join them...”

Next chapter

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sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

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A Unique Birthday Cake

This is for @marvelinsanity . Sua, I wish you the happiest of birthday wishes! I hope you have an amazing day despite our unfortunate circumstances. Ily! Thanks for always being so inclusive and friendly!

Please send her some wishes tmrw, everyone! She is truly an amazing person!

I know your birthday is tomorrow, but I just couldn’t wait hehehe. Don’t worry, I’m gonna post your request and a lil something else tomorrow too ≧◡≦

(I swear I’m done bothering you after that lol)

Please pardon any mistakes, I’m half asleep.

This morning Wanda and Nat came bursting into your room at the ungodly hour of 7 am. To some, 7 am wasn’t early, but try having a pre-birthday dinner with the Avengers the night before and then we'll talk.

“(y/n) c’mon get up! We are going birthday shopping!”

You tiredly groaned and covered your head with Steve’s vacant pillow, in hopes of shunning the overly-peppy women away. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate their kind gesture, but birthday shopping was the last thing on your to do list, more in favor of getting some shut-eye.

“Nat, Wanda. I love you both, I do, but pleaseeee let me sleep.” Silence now filled the room and you assumed they had gotten the message.

Apparently you thought wrong.

Natasha then pried the pillow from your deathly grip while Wanda pulled back the bed covers, making you shiver, covered in nothing more than shorts and t-shirt. Steve must’ve set the thermostat to polar again.

Not all us can be fine while in the ice for seventy years, sir.

“We got teaaaa.” That’s all it took. Wanda’s tempting offer made you hop up from the bed. You passed them and made a beeline straight for the kitchen, not caring about your messy appearance.

Before you made it four steps out the door, Natasha grabbed you by the shoulders, turning you to look at her and Wanda.

“Oops, forgot to mention you have to get ready first!” Her smirk made you sick, as you scowled at her, pouting like a child on your way to the bathroom, complying to their orders.

“You two are cruel.”

Wanda and Natasha then high fived at their small victory, actually heading to the kitchen to make you tea, for real this time. By 9 am, the three of you had already made it out of the compound and to the bustling and ever famous, 5th Avenue. In all your years spent in New York, not once had you stepped foot on 5th Avenue. When you made your confession to Wanda and Natasha, you were sure they’d die right on the spot. So now, you three giddy women went to all the fancy and exquisite stores, not actually buying but just looking for your own entertainment.

You hadn’t known, but Wanda and Natasha were helping out Steve who was planning his very own surprise for your birthday.

“Guys, be serious.” Steve was now using his Captain voice, he clearly meant business.

“We’re listening, Cap.” Directly across the island counter, Bucky, Sam stood, trying to contain their laughter once more.

“How the hell do we make this cake?” Bucky just lost it at Steve’s truly innocent question. Sam quickly shot his arm out to steady the cackling man.

“Ok, whew. Step aside. Let the pros show ya.” At the confident remark from his friend, Steve stepped aside in surrender allowing the men to do their thing.

If you are wondering how Steve got here, it all started last week.

You were in the compound kitchen, helping Sam prepare a last minute dinner since it was his night to cook. The whole team had just gotten back from a long and draining mission, especially looking forward to a home-cooked meal. Unfortunately, the compound’s pantry was completely desolate, leaving Sam completely clueless as to what to do for dinner that night. Just as Sam was about to dial takeout, you and Steve strolled in. The two of you were now in a much more jovial mood after getting cleaned up and basking in the feeling of being home.

“Hey Sammy, whatcha cookin’?”

The distressed man then flung you the ragged Chinese menu and a frown made home on your face.

“Hold that thought, because there has to be something.”

When Sam didn’t get the message, you walked up to him and took the phone, ending the call.

“Why’d you do that!”

“Because we will find something to eat.”

While you and Sam had your own staring contest, Steve wandered off to the pantry, checking its contents for himself.

“Hey doll! There’s some bread in here, and a few cans of tomato soup.”

You looked away from Sam and ran to Steve.

“You're a lifesaver, babe!” Swiftly, you pecked him on the cheek, swiping the cans of soup from his arms.

“Now if we have some cheese, I’m sure we can make some grilled cheese sandwiches.” At your appeasing offer, Sam visibly brightened up.

“Sam, can you start the soup while Steve and I make the sandwiches?”

And needless to say, everything went smoothly, that is until you let Steve cook one sandwich and he burnt it to charcoal.

How that happened, you have no clue.

In the kindest way possible, you let him down gently, because he was trying his best. A sullen look crossed his face and you felt like you had just smacked a baby. Without second thought, you got on tippy toes to deeply kiss him trying to give some reassurance.

“Cooking is a tough science, don’t sweat it, darling.”

So maybe he couldn’t scramble an egg, but he sure as hell would try to learn. With your challenge still fresh in his mind, Steve thought making a birthday cake for you would be none other than the best time to show off his baking skills. That man was never one to cower down from a challenge.

Now here he was, staring at the cake recipe as if he were trying to escape Alcatraz. One word came to Steve’s mind when he thought about either. Impossible.

“You good, buddy?” Bucky looked over to Steve whose eyes were locked onto the piece of paper, clenched tightly in his hand.

“It can’t be that hard right?”

Sam and Bucky just looked at each other shrugging.

“For gosh sakes, you can fight Hydra, but the big scary cake monster is deathly terrifying?”

In mock horror, Sam brought his hands to his face, mimicking a shocked look. Steve just rolled his eyes and playfully slapped Sam on the shoulder.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

That was three hours ago.

In such a short time the men managed to make a complete mess. When Bucky said pros, Steve really should’ve known better.

The kitchen was completely dusted in the white, snow-like, flour. Sugar nestled within the powder while vanilla extract absentmindedly flowed off the counter and to the floor. Up against the oven, Sam slumped over and across from him at the sink, Bucky was trying to wash cake batter out of his hair. Steve just looked in utter shock at the scene, it looked like a war zone, and he’s seen plenty of those.

Oh and the cake…

Can it even classify as a cake?

Because from where Steve was standing, it looked like pizza dough. The whole way through Sam kept reprimanding that it’d look better in the end, decorated in frosting, but my god there was no saving this… creature.

“So about what I said earlier,” Steve looked over to see Sam staring at the ground, obviously contemplating his life choices, “I’d like to revoke my statement.”

Hell, they’d gotten this far.

Steve walked over to the frosting, which, thank the heavens, was store bought. Completely traumatized and absorbed in the whole situation, he just lathered on all the frosting. With a gel icing, he carefully penned out your name and ‘Happy Birthday’.

Really the only thing going for that “cake” was his neat penmanship.

So maybe you were right.

Unfortunately it was too late to order a real cake. Steve would just have to face the consequences and cross his fingers that you wouldn’t break up with him.

By time Wanda and Natasha had ushered you home, it was 4 pm. Today you were just so caught up in all the fun that you completely forgot about Steve which made you feel terrible. Knowing Steve, he went all out for your birthday, you just hoped you hadn’t ruined it.

As you walked into the compound, everything seemed perfectly normal, which quite frankly kind of disappointed you, until you rounded the corner to the kitchen. The lights were off, but soon came on when Sam, Bucky and Steve popped up around the table, presenting a... dough ball????

You got closer and realized it was a cake. Or was supposed to be.

“Please don't break up with me, doll.” Steve nervously bit his lip and you reached up to stop him, then full on laughing, grabbing his broad shoulders for support.

“Oh Stevie! Don’t be so dramatic. I’m actually really looking forward to what happened.”

Steve then pulled out your chair as everyone else settled around the table, where the dough baby idly was set upon.

The three men told of their tale while you ladies laughed over ice cream, a quick solution thanks to Wanda.

Sam and Bucky continued to tell their more animated version of the story, while Steve leaned close to you, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist with lips pressed to your temple.

“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

#steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine

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holdin-out-for-a-hero · 4 years ago

Text

Creep- FFVII Biggs X Reader Ch.12/?

Summary: You get on the wrong side of one of Corneo’s men and now you have a target on your back

A/N: I’m so sorry this chapter took so long! Ever since the pandemic I’ve lost all concept of time and it still doesn’t register with me that chapter 11 was posted over a month ago. I can no longer promise that you’ll get weekly updates, but that is my goal. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! its the longest one so far. Any and all feedback is appreciated and it helps me become a better writer!

You, Biggs, Jessie, Tifa, and Wedge were sitting down at the table in Avalanche's hideout, listening intently as Barrett spoke. That is, everybody but Tifa.

She had just lost her childhood friend, and though she tried really hard to act like nothing was wrong, to carry on for everyone else's sake, she wasn't very convincing. Her stare was blank and every once in a while she'd tear up, looking anywhere but people's eyes as she fought them down. The group tried to comfort her, but she kept insisting she was fine.

This was the meeting you had been waiting for, the meeting where you'd figure out what to do about the men looking for both you and Barrett. You had already volunteered to go check out the Corneo mansion and finish the business with your little stalker, but so far that's been pushed aside or discouraged. You understood their hesitancy, but you also couldn't spend another day with the fear of a stalker hanging over your head. You couldn't stand to live like this anymore, and if you met him up at the mansion, you'd be much more prepared than if he found you. There would also be the element of surprise on your side.

"I asked some of guys in the watch about this Corneo character. Apparently he's the crimelord who runs Wall Market. I'm sure you've all heard the rumors about him," Barrett took slow, paced steps as he spoke.

"See? Another reason you shouldn't let Y/N go in there!" Biggs added. Barrett stopped in his tracks, staring the man down. So far, Biggs has interrupted the meeting a number of times to share his distaste for your involvement in any plans.

"Will you let me finish?" He barked. Biggs slid back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So why is he interested in you?" You asked, ending the tense silence.

"I'm not sure of anything, but I think we all know why he's interested. Depending on his intentions and his loyalties, this Corneo guy might become a real problem for us."

"You think he might be working for Shinra?" Jessie spoke up.

"Can't be sure without proof."

"You think they're all in on it? All his goons?" You asked, "Maybe that's why one of 'em picked me on the train. Maybe he knew I was part of it. Maybe that's why he's... well, stalking me."

"No. He picked on you on the train because you were a pretty girl sitting right across from him. He's stalking you cause you almost knocked his lights out. You probably embarrassed him." Biggs said.

"Hold on, I embarrassed him? He embarrassed me!"

"He cowered in his seat while Biggs dragged you away. I'm sure it embarrassed him." Jessie said

"Probably hurt his pride or something. He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn't let the little things go, so if he thinks you slighted him on the train, he's gonna fight dirty by bringing his little crew to terrorize you," Biggs leaned further back into his chair.

"The nerve of that guy..." you seethed, "he knows he's not scary alone so he gets a group of men to come intimidate me."

"Or who knows, some of the other people on the train could've let him have it once you left the car. Maybe that's why he's upset." Wedge added.

"Really? Cause they didn't seem to stand up for me when I needed it," your voice trailed off, leading to a momentary pause in the conversation.

"Now tell me, what exactly did this guy say to you on the train?" Barrett asked, you fidgeted in your seat as the memories you tried to repress were starting to creep back in.

"Nothing I want to repeat."

"You've got to give me the details," Barrett said, urgent but not demanding.

"Well, I was sweaty because of the mission and he... commented about that. Then he said something about taking me to guy in Wall Market. I'm guessing he meant Corneo. He called me property and then we started arguing. Biggs tried to take me out of the car, then he made a comment about my ass and that's when I swung at him."

Barrett had finally sat down at the table and was listening intently. His usual hard-ass demeanor had vanished, and instead he appeared sensitive to your problem. You appreciated it, as well as the fact that he never yelled at you for getting into this mess. It still didn't make sense, though. He always yelled when people did something stupid. So why were you an exception?

"And what about yesterday?" He asked.

"Well, he and his little gang surrounded me, Jessie, Biggs, and they started harassing us. He told me I was lucky cause he was busy looking for you. Apparently Corneo put him up to it. He said I should watch out for now on, 'cause that's what a bitch gets" you paused, "Jessie asked what we could do to get them to stop, he said only I could make it stop. He told me to meet him at the Corneo mansion, said something about a truce. I don't know what he's planning but I've got to do something. I don't think he even expects me to come. I think this is the only chance to get an upper hand on him."

"I don't think that's a good idea, y/n," Wedge spoke up.

"What other options do we have? Sit and wait around to see what business Corneo has with Barrett and see what that creep wants to do with me? We can kill two birds with one stone if I can get in there."

"No, Y/N, that's a bad idea," Biggs warned.

"What if we sent someone else in there?" Wedge suggested.

"For Barrett, that might work. But I've got to face that dirtbag myself, he won't speak to anyone else."

"And what do you think you're gonna do once you get in there, huh? Kill a man in front of his boss? Or just give 'em a little warning? How do you expect this little plan of yours to work out?" Barrett's sensitive disposition dropped.

"I.... I don't know"

"See, you don't even have a plan! Now there's no way I'm letting you go in there alone!"

"... I'll go with her," Tifa spoke up. She had been silent most of the meeting, her mind far away from this place. Her sudden inclusion in the conversation surprised all of you.

"What?" Biggs did a double take.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" You whispered to her, and she nodded yes. Barrett simply watched the woman, hand holding his chin in thought.

"And I think I have a plan, too." She added. The room was silent for a moment. Biggs couldn't shake his shocked expression; Jessie and Wedge glanced at each other, they knew his surprise would soon turn aggressive. Barrett looked between you and Tifa, eyebrows furrowed.

"You're not seriously thinking about this, are you?" Biggs stood up from his chair.

"And what if I am?" Barrett said, giving Biggs a long and intimidating look.

"... With me and Y/N's skills combined, we won't have anything to worry about." Tifa said.

"They could take on a damn army..." Jessie muttered.

"No, no, absolutely not! There's no way I'm letting either of you go in there!" Biggs butted in again, he could be such a stubborn pain when he wanted to.

"We're not asking for your permission!" You said to him.

"Shut the hell up!" Barrett yelled, causing everyone to silence, "I'll think it over. In the meantime, meeting's over."

Everyone got up to leave, but before Biggs could exit with the rest of the team, Barrett grabbed onto his shoulder.

"We gotta have a talk."

Biggs sighed, arms crossed against his chest as the he waited for everyone else to go back up to the bar. Then, once they were all gone, he turned back to Barrett.

"It seems you've forgotten who's boss around here..." Barrett began, voice a low growl, "and your little playground crush on Y/N is really starting to get on my nerves."

"Crush? So because I'm worried for her safety it means I have a crush on her?" Biggs fired back. He was pissed, he's been pissed since the day on the train. And now it was beginning to bubble over.

"Don't you dare insinuate I'm not thinking 'bout her safety, cause I sure as hell am."

"Then why are you thinking about sending her into Corneo's? Huh? You think she's gonna be safe there?"

"Never said I was. I wouldn't send her or Tifa into any situation I didn't think they could handle."

"But you're thinking about it."

"That's right, I am thinking about it," Barrett snapped, "You need to get it into that thick skull of yours that I am the one who makes decisions around here. What I say goes."

Biggs' cocky attitude fell away when he realized he crossed a line. Barrett wasn't playing. This wasn't just a heated discussion, this was serious. And when it came to handling Barrett, there was only one way to go about this: stand down.

"Y/N is not yours to control or protect. She's capable of handling herself," he stated firmly, voice a low growl. Somehow me managed to make it scarier than his yelling, "Now whatever decision I make, you better keep your mouth shut about it. Do I make myself clear?"

Biggs was caught off guard by the intensity of Barrett's stare, but he regained his composure and shook his head.

"Yes sir," he said. Barrett kept the man's gaze a second longer before grunting and nodding; a wordless dismissal.

Biggs turned and walked away, knowing full well that his boss's eyes were following him. He took a step onto the elevator platform, facing away from Barrett.

"Tell Tifa and Y/N to come down here next." Barrett said, same tone as before.

Biggs shut his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and biting his tongue.

"Yes sir."

——————————————————————

You, Tifa, and Biggs approached the small chocobo stable in sector 6. It was on the very edge of wall market, the creep's stomping ground. If you and Biggs were caught out here, you'd be screwed, so you tried your best to lay low. You had borrowed some of Jessie's clothes and styled your hair differently to try and disguise yourself, Biggs did something similar.

Just ahead of you was a bearded man tending to a chocobo. He wore a cowboy hat and leather vest; the typical uniform of a Chocobo carriage driver, but he wasn't just an ordinary worker. He ran the entire business. Chocobo Sam, you remembered. He had made a real name for himself in the slums, being an entrepreneur and all... but that wasn't it. He was also known for his ties to Corneo, Tifa had told you, and apparently he was one of the few who could grant you access to the Don.

He looked up from his brushing, eyes intense as he scrutinized you and Tifa. Your breath caught in your throat. Not another creep...

"Need somethin'?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed at Biggs, staring at him as though he were the leader of your group. Oh, how far from the truth that was.

"Yeah, you're Sam, right?" You asked, voice a hushed whisper. Even though there weren't many people around, you weren't taking your chances. He seemed to get the hint, stepping closer to you and crossing his arms.

"And what if I am? What your business here?" He drawled, voice a soft growl.

"We heard you could help us see Don Corneo," Tifa said. He looked the both of you up and down, taking a little too long to do so. Biggs cleared his throat and the man stopped.

"I can't help you," he said to Biggs, "But you two are a different story. I could get one of you girls into an audition tonight."

"Just one of us?" Tifa asked.

"Audition?" Biggs also asked, but was ignored.

"Now that I think about it... I don't think the other two have anyone in mind. I think I could get you both in. You girls are right up his alley."

"What? The hell is this audition for?" Biggs asked again, this time too loud to be ignored.

"Well..." Sam started, his voice hushed, "its an audition to be Corneo's bride for the night."

Biggs face went slack as he stared at the man.

"So this is a sex ring."

"Keep your voice down, man!" Sam whispered, giving Biggs a look before scanning the surrounding area for any onlookers.

"Uh uh. No fucking way," Biggs said, grabbing both you and tifa's arms, pulling you away from the stable, "No way I'm letting either of you in there!"

"C'mon, you know we can handle this!" You yanked your arm out of his grasp

"Not with how you've been freezing up lately! Remember yesterday?"

"We were surrounded! We weren't prepared last time. This time will be different. We have an actual plan, a solid one," You said.

"Did you two know this was a sex ring?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"... It was part of the plan," Tifa admitted. Biggs let out an angry sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"I knew you'd react like this..." you muttered.

Tifa looked between the two, and sensing the tension, she took Biggs by the arm, leading him a few yards away.

"Do you trust me?" She asked, trying to initiate eye contact with him but he wouldn't look away from you. She sighed, even when he was pissed at you, he was still fiercely protective. Oh, he had it bad, "Biggs, Do you trust me?"

He finally looked back at her, noticing the serious look in her eyes.

"I do," he said, quickly glancing back to you and everyone in the vicinity.

"I will make sure she stays safe. I promise. But you've got to trust her, too. Can you do that?"

He hesitated to answer, and for a moment, Tifa thought that his lack of response was his response.

"I guess I don't have a say in this, do I?"

"Barret already approved of the mission..."

Tifa waited a moment for a response but never got one. She shook her head; Biggs rarely ever got this upset, but whenever he did he was unbearable.

She walked over to where you were still standing, gently grabbing your hand and leading you to Sam. She didn't have to look back to know Biggs was staring her down.

Sam turned towards the both of you again, and then he glanced behind you for a moment before meeting your gaze.

"We're in," Tifa said. He studied her expression a moment, and then yours.

"You sure you want in on this? I can't promise you'll be leaving that mansion anytime soon."

You looked over at Tifa to see her response, you didn't want to force her into something like this.

She looked turned to you and nodded.

"I'll send a carriage tonight at 9. Dress your best." —————————————- Tifa sorted through her closet for something nice enough to wear to a formal audition. You already had a dress picked out. Jessie let you borrow her only nice gown for the occasion; it was laying on tifa's bed as you stared at it. The dress was beautiful, but you mind wandered from the gown's delicate details to something you couldn't get out of your head...

You and Biggs hadn't spoken since the encounter with Sam, and though you were still a little angry, the thought of him being angry at you really pulled on your heartstrings. He's been your rock the past two days, always there with you and for you, holding you tight when you were scared... No, stop. That was the crush talking. No matter how hard you tried to be mad at him, that stupid crush wouldn't let you.

You hated to think you'd have to go through another pervert to end all of your pervert problems, but you couldn't live your life like this anymore. You didn't want to live in fear of those dirtbags and what would happen if they decided to visit you again. You shivered at the thought. Part of you wanted to stay away from him so badly, to avoid all of your problems and stick to hiding with Biggs. Deep down, though, you knew your problem wouldn't go away unless you did something about it.

That's what Biggs didn't get. Every waking moment you were on edge. You felt like you were going crazy, you couldn't even sleep anymore. You didn't have it in you to play the waiting game. And though your plan was risky, (probably more risky than you'd like to admit) you had come to terms with the fact that there was no safe or correct choice in this situation. You'd have to face him someday, so why not on your own terms.

"How about this one?" Tifa asked, pulling out a dark blue mini dress from her closet, holding it out for you to look at. Your eyes widened; It was a very sexy dress.

"If you wear that, he's definitely gonna pick you," you replied, looking back down at your dress. Yours was still alluring, just not to the level of Tifa's. Or maybe Tifa was just sexier than you. That was probably it.

"I don't know about that, I think you definitely have a chance too," she said, eyeing you from behind. You laughed.

"I'm serious, Y/N!" She said, "You're turning heads everywhere you go!"

"Yeah, and getting the wrong kind of attention," you admitted. And though it was a joke, your smile faded as you faced its bitter implications.

You picked up the dress from the bed, feeling it's material between you fingers, and then took it off the hanger. Uzipping the back, you stepped both legs into the gown and then pulled it up to your chest. You zipped the dress up half-way before realizing that you couldn't finish the job alone.

"Hey Tifa, can you help me out?" You asked. She stood in front of the mirror, trying to tie her dress up in the back.

"Yeah, give me a minute," she said, concentrating on the two ties that fastened behind the neck.

There was a knock on the door. You held your dress at the front to keep it from falling down as you headed over to the door. Looking through the peephole, you were both relieved and a little upset to see Biggs standing there.

"Who is it?" Tifa asked.

"It's Biggs." You said, "Should I open it?"

"Yeah, let him in."

You reluctantly opened the door, ushering him in with your one available hand before anyone could see you. As soon as he entered the room, the air went tense.

"Can you help me zip this up?" You turned around, showing him your bare back. Perhaps this wasn't the best way to alleviate some of the tension, but it was all you could think of.

He stared at your bare back for a moment, his mind still hadn't caught up to the present.

"Biggs?" You asked, "Never used a zipper before?"

"Sorry," he said, before stepping closer to you.

His hands pushed your hair over one shoulder so none of it would get caught. Cold air hit your exposed neck, and then his breath. It was only then that you realized how close he was. A finger gently brushed across your back, moving the remaining hairs away from the zipper. You fought back a shiver. And just a second later, he had zipped you up, finally stepping away.

You turned back around hesitantly, before holding your arms out away from your body. "What do you think?"

Biggs looked you up and down, staring a little too long.

"Well?" You asked again.

"...Beautiful," he slipped, " I-I mean, you look beautiful. The dress is beautiful."

"Thanks." There was a thick silence that permeated the room as you looked down at you dress, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Biggs glanced around the room, but you caught his eyes wandering back to you every once in a while.

"Hey, can I get some help over here too?" Tifa asked.

"Of course," Biggs said, turning his gaze to her.

"No, I've got it!" You butted in, running over to Tifa and tying her dress up for her. She raised an eyebrow at you through the mirror, and you glared at her.

You walked back over to Biggs, who stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. He looked up at you as you approached.

"So what's brought you here?" You asked, moving to sit on Tifa's bed as you took your makeup bag in your hands. He sat down on the bed a foot away from you. "You're not trying to make me reconsider, are you?"

He didn't answer.

"We've been through this already," you searched through the clutch for your compact mirror. The door open and shut again, you looked up for a second, noticing Tifa had left the room.

"I just don't see how this is a good idea. He's bound to be at Corneo's place, how do you suppose this is gonna fix it?"

"Look, I've got to do something. I can't live like this anymore."

"What if you make it worse?"

"Then I'll have to leave Midgar."

The both of you grew quite at the thought. You didn't want to leave Midgar. Ever. But if you didn't deal with this guy, you'd probably have to. And if you were to mess up on this mission, you'd have to leave. The odds weren't looking good for you.

"But I'll still have to leave if we don't face this head-on. So do you understand why I have to do it?"

He stared down at his lap and thought for a moment.

"Yes, I do," He turned to look up at you, "Promise me you'll be back."

You searched his eyes, his expression, all too tense. He looked worried, was it really all about you? Could he care that much? It made you feel guilty that you could have ever put this weight on him.

"I promise," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes hadn't left yours, and it was then that you realized how close your faces were, just a few inches apart. His jaw was still tight, you noticed, and you lifted up a hand to touch his face. You smoothed our his cheek with your thumb, "you need to stop clenching your jaw, you're gonna hurt yourself," you whispered again. There was a pause, and though it was only a few seconds, it felt so much longer.

"I have something to tell you..." he began, his eyes leaving your own for a moment, almost as if he were ashamed, or maybe embarrassed?

"What is it?" You whispered, locking eyes with him again. You had unknowingly scooted a little closer to him, and he to you. Your hand hadn't yet left his face, no, you held onto his face, drinking in his features as if it would be the last time. He moved closer...

The door opened and you two jumped, quickly scooting away from each other. A shocked Wedge stood at the doorway.

"Umm, hey guys, uh..." he trailed off, his cheeks going red as he looked anywhere but your eyes. Your cheeks were burning, too, "the carriage is here. Do you know where Tifa is?"

#final fantasy #biggs x reader #biggs #ff7 biggs #FFVII Biggs #FFVII #ffviir #FF7R #final fantasy vii #tifa lockhart #ffvii wedge #jessie rasberry #Barrett Wallace

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