#if I could trade all my years of good luck when I was younger to just be fucking normal I would

[yellobb]

If things could stop going in exactly the wrong wrong direction that would be excellent

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 5 EPISODE 03  || FREE WILL ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

The sound came again from the back of the house, somewhat louder; a noise midway between a squeal and a growl.[...] His eyebrows also rose in surprise, and I leaned over his arm to see.

A woman peered out from between two hillocks of goods, looking round suspiciously, like a rat peering out of a garbage dump. She was not particularly ratlike in appearance, being wavy-haired and quite stout, but she blinked at us in the calculating way of vermin, reckoning the threat. “Go away,” she said, evidently concluding that we were not the vanguard of an invading army. “Good morning to ye, ma’am,” Jamie began, “I am James Fraser, of—” “I don’t care who you are,” she replied. “Go away.” “Indeed I will not,” he said firmly. “I must speak with the man o’ the house.” An extraordinary expression crossed her plump face; concern, calculation, and what might have been amusement.

“Must you?” she said. She had a slight lisp; it came out as mutht you? “And who says that you must?” Jamie’s ears were beginning to redden slightly, but he answered calmly enough. “The Governor, madam. I am Colonel James Fraser,” he said, with emphasis, “charged with the raising of militia. All able-bodied men between the ages of sixteen and sixty are called to muster. Will ye fetch Mr. Beardsley, please?” “Mili-ish-ia, is it?” she said, handling the word with care. “Why, who will you be fighting, then?” “With luck, no one. But the call to muster is sent out; I must answer, and so must all able-bodied men within the Treaty Line.” Jamie’s hand tightened on the crosspiece of the inner frame and rattled it experimentally. It was made of flimsy pine sticks, the wood shrunken and badly weathered; he could plainly rip it out of the wall and step through the opening, if he chose to do so. He met her eyes straight on, and smiled pleasantly. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, thinking. “Able-bodied men,” she said at last. “Hmp. Well, we’ve none of those. The bond lad’s run off again, but even if he were here, he’s not able; deaf as that doorpotht, and quite as dumb.” She nodded toward the door in illustration. “If you care to hunt him down, you’re welcome to keep him, though.” It didn’t look as though there would be any hue and cry after Keziah, then. I took a deep breath, in a sigh of relief, but let it out again, swiftly. Jamie wasn’t giving up easily. “Is Mr. Beardsley in the house?” he asked. “I wish to see him.” He gave an experimental tug on the frame, and the dry wood cracked with a sound like a pistol shot. “He’s thcarce fit for company,” she said, and the odd note was back in her voice; wary, but at the same time, filled with something like excitement. “Is he ill?” I asked, leaning over Jamie’s shoulder. “I might be able to help; I’m a doctor.” She shuffled forward a step or two, and peered at me, frowning under a heavy mass of wavy brown hair. She was younger than I’d thought; seen in better light, the heavy face showed no cobweb of age or slackening of flesh. “A doctor?” “My wife’s well-kent as a healer,” Jamie said. “The Indian folk call her White Raven.” “The conjure woman?” Her eyes flew wide in alarm, and she took a step back. Something struck me odd about the woman, and looking at her, I realized what it was. Despite the reek in the house, both the woman’s person and her dress were clean, and her hair was soft and fluffy—not at all the norm at this time of year, when people generally didn’t bathe for several months in the cold weather. “Who are you?” I asked bluntly. “Are you Mrs. Beardsley? Or perhaps Miss Beardsley?” No more than twenty-five, I thought, in spite of the bulk of her swaddled figure. Her shoulders swelled fatly under her shawl, and the width of her hips brushed the barrels she stood between. Evidently trade with the Cherokee was sufficiently profitable to keep Beardsley’s family in adequate food, if not his bond servants. I eyed her with some dislike, but she met my gaze coolly enough. “I am Mrs. Beardthley.”

~ The Fiery Cross

[gay-noodle-clan]

Don’t know if anyone’s interested, but I want to introduce my DR self.

This is Andi Grei Ruenhaert, fourth born child of Talsen Ruenhaert, king of Lelyra, and Shasta Indarain, queen of Lelyra and High Priestess of the Goddess of Fate.

- Andi’s pronouns are She / They.

- Andi is half kienrif, a species I created. Kienrif are shapeshifters that can only turn into one animal: tiger, lion, wolf, coyote, bear, hyena, leopard, jaguar, elk. Tigers are mostly extinct, but as the art shows, there is a tiger behind her. This is her other form.

- Andi is 6’9, due to being half kienrif through her father’s side, a species known for their height. She is actually unusually small for the species, due to her being only half. Her tiger form is also rather small, only the size of the average wolf.

- Andi is a quarter Wood Elf and a quarter Hummingbird Fae through her mother’s side, giving her an unusually long lifespan, pointed ears, and a rather quick but graceful step.

- Andi was born September 19, 1374 A.D. In most of my DRs, it is the year 1397 A.D., making Andi 23 years old.

- Andi lives in Miðrfold, but was born in the realm Tasmuidal. For reference, our reality / realm is Heltensrike. Miðrfold is another reality / realm that is connected to Heltensrike, and to Tasmuidal, and translates to the Middle Realm. Tasmuidal is the “final” realm / reality, and is considered unholy or dead lands.

- Tasmuidal has 2 countries, Auluiria and Lelyra. Andi is from Lelyra, a place that snows year-round. They rely heavily on trade for food and supplies, and often eat the northern Leopard Seal selkies so that they can avoid trade a bit more and not have to keep an eye out for hungry selkies stealing children.

- Andi is very soft spoken and sweet, but is able to stand up for herself when necessary. She is very well-liked, though, and is rumoured to be the next Sylvati, something akin to the magical leader of the realm.

- It varies who her romantic partner is, depending entirely on what DR I am in.

- The way Andi ends up in DRs is that she touches an auyura, or a magical fae’s gate, and it takes her to an unknown, uncharted place, the DR. For reference, she touches the gate, and ends up in My Hero Academia.

- Andi has plant-related magic due to being a quarter Wood Elf, and has the ability to understand animals if she learns their language. This is usually a common tongue amongst animals of an area—rabbits, bobcats, and squirrels would all speak the same rough common tongue in a northern pine forest where they live together, that an elf could learn. But the bobcats of different regions could understand each other through their own first language, but the elf would have to learn that language separately, because it is a different language from the pine forest’s common tongue… there’s a lot of different languages to learn. Most elves specialise in certain species or areas. Andi chooses to specialise in smaller woodland mammals. Whereas her grandmother, Svea, understands dragons, because she’s learned that language. It took Svea a couple hundred years, though.

- Andi knows 13 different languages: “Not too many. Icelandic, Germanic, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, Faroese, Estonian, Norwegian, Greek, Portuguese, Ukrainian, a bit of French, Japanese, Mandarin and Cantonese, Korean, Doric, and Elvish. It is embarrassingly little, unfortunately.” She has the life goal of learning as many languages as possible. Although she refuses to learn English, mostly out of spite for having found the language too difficult when she was younger.

- Andi is incredibly intelligent, but is usually in her own world. Good luck getting her to respond when she’s daydreaming.

And that’s my DR self! Yes I made her special, because it’s my DR, so why not? Andi is my DR self in all of my DRs (30+), except for 3.

There’s more about her, too, if anyone is ever interested. I don’t refer to myself as Andi because in this reality, that isn’t who I am. I’m Andi in another reality, and prefer to stay Noodlers in this reality.

However, please feel free to ask me about her if I missed anything!

[mp0625]

Ross Colton X Reader

For @cellythefloshie Birthday bingo I had so much fun writing it!!!!!!! Sending so many hugs❤️❤️!! Hope your day is awesome!!!!!!

The column I did is outlined in green.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you were born a small mark appeared on your arm the mark of your soulmate, and it only grew from there…

You had been friends with the Colton’s since you were a child and being two years younger than Ross led to many adventures and getting into trouble together. Going to both hockey and baseball games all throughout out high school. And when he was drafted by the Lightning you were sitting there right next to him and you got the biggest hug.

When you moved to Colorado to be an assistant physical therapist, after he was drafted was a sad day as the both of you went your separate ways. 

When the trade was announced that Ross would be coming to Colorado, you immediately called him seeing if you would be able to restore your relationship. After the first ring..

“I see you’re coming to Colorado“ you say right after he picks up.

“Yeah, baby I am,” he answers right back, there it is your old nickname.

“Are you mad at me for not staying in touch?”

“I could never be mad at you!” He said firmly.

“I guess I’ll see you in September“ you say after a pause.

The two of you text nonstop for hours every day even know there was a two hour time difference between the two of you. And slowly something blossomed that was always there. 

When September rolled around you were the one to pick him up from the airport and you gave him a stern warning.

“Do not do any thing stupid at Ball arena that might link us I don’t want to lose my job for fraternizing with a player.” after you finish he raises his hands in surrender.

Before the first home game you go into the locker room and give him a kiss on the cheek for good luck causing all the boys to start cheering and saying “oooo” and giving him pats on the back.

After coming down the tunnel from scoring his 50th goal and the first Hat trick of the season. You run into his arms. Giving him a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

You whisper in his ear “I love you”

He replies “I love you to” “It’s always been you” “Who I love”

“Wait your my soulmate…”

“Yeah” he said rolling up his sleeve and his pads to show his soul mark and it says ”Hi! I’m Y/n do you know how to play street hockey?”

~~~~~~~~

Thank you Celly for answering all my questions about Ross

Happy Birthday Celly!!!!!!!

[big-idiot-wolf-boys]

Hi! I saw your tags on the poll and I was wondering if you could talk a little bit more about why you dislike living in the PNW? I've been trying to move there so want to get a local's opinion. Ty :)

Oh shit i don't want to do anything to shatter your dreams but be warned this is the one topic i am very bitter and jaded about. Please ask someone else too because while I hate living here other people DO love it and you should make an informed decision!

Being said.... here we go. I've lived in the Seattle adjacent area my whole life. In fact my family has been in the area for six generations and all of us hate it here more than the previous generation as we've watches the area develop. Maybe I just come from a bitter and jaded family. Maybe my specific town or county is the problem. I don't know. I'm not going to break this into bullet points or organize my thoughts or anything I'm just going to ramble.

But as the years go by, everything has gotten more expensive. But despite the raise in sales and property taxes, the area is less and less maintained. The roads are abysmal. The Public works projects such as maintaining shrubbery to ensure sidewalks follow ADA clearance and pedestrians can be seen, have been thrown to the wayside. The schools and other public buildings arent maintained and often just get replaced after they start falling apart. Every year there is less of a welcoming feeling to the area. Every year beloved businesses and entertainment venues are closing down and being replaced with churches and bars. Conservatives are creeping into the area and shutting down YMCAS, qanon maniacs are being voted into mayoral office. I have personally ripped down pro nazi flyers at the ELEMENTARY SCHOOL here. The drug problem is seemingly unstoppable. Regularly there are reports of millions of dollars of coke and fentynal being seized by the feds. People are dying every day in large quantities from the drugs. Ive watched a lot of people i love lose themselves to drug induced psychosis. Thefts and burglaries and violent crime related to drugs are rapidly on the rise. 1/3 of my hometown is unhoused and thats only people who have reported/admitted to it. Not counting couch hoppers and people trading work for housing at hotels. The schools are getting worse by the year. The elder of my two younger brothers graduated because they were giving out answers to end of year exams to boost their graduate stats, probably because of previous drop out rates. 23% of MY graduating class, including myself, dropped out because the quality of the education was so awful they just got GEDs instead. Violent crime is on the rise, especially around notable twilight locations such as Forks and Port Angeles. The numbers vary but in my specific town you need to make a minimum of 27/hour to afford a single bedroom apartment. If you can find a job that pays that much or an apartment. Good luck because it's not very likely. Last summer a woman asked a community page the same thing and specifically asked for info on what the area is like for teens. She ignored a lot of comments about the negatives from teens themselves and moved here anyway. This summer she posted her son has gotten into drugs and run away from home. I hate to say it, I know it's tasteless, but she should have listened. Cause and effect maybe. I hope her kid comes home safe. I also hope she learned a lesson about not ignoring advice when she asks for it.

I stay here because my family is here. My partner's family is here. Our jobs pay decent. But if I were single and impulsive, I'd bail the fuck out of this state as soon as I could.

Yes, it's beautiful here. Yes, there's cool festivals and parks and museums. But the PNW is not the land of dreams or opportunities unless you have a lot of money and resilience to facilitate it.

Make the choice that's best for you, anon. But please don't forget the negatives because you can easily get sucked into a life of drugs and poverty.

[wyvchard]

"... The only 'really bad' thing I'm actively planning for is the exam." Villain huffs as they heard their friend laugh over the voice call. "Seriously, all the sections taking the same test? I even have nightmares of it."

"Even in our dreans, it haunts us. By the way, I heard the heroes are on high alert. Something about a dangerous plot? Wow. They must be on their toes if it's gotten this bad. Got any ideas on what the villain is planning this time? It's gotta be good."

Villain hovered their pen over the practice sheet. "Nope. Do you really think I got time for that? If you have the ability to gossip about what the heroes are doing, surely you can ask the other sections if we can have a study session." They leaned back in their chair, cringing at the fact they forgot about the heroes.

Honestly, can you really blame them? If they get taken off the honor's list, it's going to be a world of hurt. Their parents love them despite any grade they can get but their own eyes seeing anything that begins with an "8" on their report card will mock themselves for months on end. They're a legal adult. They should be responsible for this! They lowered their head on the desk. "They say 'enjoy your teen years' but my last age before I turn 20 is currently nothing but pain and suffering."

"Don't be so dramatic. Besides, we're in luck! Some graduates agreed to volunteer to tutor us! Isn't that wonderful?"

"I hope they're better at teaching."

-

Villain didn't expect to hear the hero's voice when they came to the study session. It seems their absence really affected the group, as seen by the eye bags in their eyes that was most likely able to carry luggage right about now.

Much to their relief, the hero didn't notice them. They made sure to use a voice modulator every time they battle, after all.

It would be an achievement if they didn't feel bad. So they lingered, waiting for them to be alone with the hero.

"Kiddo, you should go home. It could be dangerous in the street."

"You don't look alright."

The hero flinched, before giving an awkward smile. "Ah. It's just some problems at work. Don't worry about it.

I thought I'd volunteer to keep my mind off of things. But you lot surely look just as bad as my co-workers."

"That's finals week to you. It's either finals week or your final week." They huffed, irritation growing on their throat.

"I can't relate. Finished my education years ago. Good luck on your examination. You'll need it." The hero smiled as they left the library, waiting for the younger to make it to a safe area before going somewhere to change back to being the hero the city needed. "Still no sign of Villain."

Villain sighed as they snuck up on the hero with a bottle of liniment in their hands.

"Where have you been?" The hero asked, clearly startled by Villain's approach.

"Finding the perfect liniment for my headache. Do me a favor and tell me what you use. You seem to have the right one, considering you don't look like you're having a migraine by looking through a lot of papers and texts."

The hero merely stares at them for a few seconds before revealing a bottle. "Tell me your plans."

The villain merely grins. "I plan to create an information network for my own benefit. Rest easy. Your city will be safe.

But its young minds would not be, they will left with little life by the time I have finished my plan."

"That's good enough." The hero sighed as Villain received the bottle with a bit too much glee. Finally! Something else to smell in order to distract themselves from the pain of studying!

"Don't fret. I do not plan to create a mind control or anything at the moment. It's just that my health is not at it's peak. I do not wish for a fight that will not satisfy my whims. No planned destruction until after the end of the week, you have my word."

"The fact you do deliver on your word is enough for me.

And Villain?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"It was a fair trade, Hero." They turned away, disappearing in the darkness, only to emerge as a student who'd received a boon. "Yes! Finally! My headaches will be reduced! Thank the powers that be!"

Maybe finals week isn't all that bad.

Scratch that. Finals week is still a pain.

Hero x villain

Hero doesn't know villain is a teenager that became a villain because they were bored, villain does a great job at hiding their age that is until finals weeks come around villain is busy studying and completely forgets about their 'side job' hero thinks villain is planning something really bad instead villain is trying to figure out how to find x

[adzeisval]

No...not like this

Lucius is old and tired. Warnings for major character death and attempted suicide in this one. Also on AO3.

Lucius carried the little bottle of liquid carefully into his room. He’d been careful the last few days to be normal to not seem too depressed or too happy. Lucius didn’t want anyone to know what he was about to do. With luck it would look like an accident, like he had died in his sleep. 

It was only Lucius and Jim left out of the original crew and Lucius couldn’t even fathom being the last of the bunch. He and Jim were getting so old and either one of them could go first really, they complained together of aches and pains and being tired a lot more often. It wouldn’t take much to bring the end about. 

Oh there were new people around the Inn, people that Lucius had grown to care for and company he enjoyed but…it wasn’t enough to stay. Lucius couldn’t be last so he was going to make sure he went before Jim. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned the little bottle over in his hands. It was supposed to be quick and it wasn’t supposed to hurt. He was just supposed to take it, go to sleep and he would not wake up. He wouldn’t have to be alone and he would get to see Pete again. He missed Pete so much. He needed to see Pete, he had waited long enough. He’d made other friends and he had Jim but after Pete died he couldn’t really move forward with someone else. Odd, he’d always thought he’d find some companion, he’d never been monogamous as a younger man but he just didn’t have the energy to try to find someone. 

Lucius swallowed the contents of the bottle and went to bed. 

“What the absolute fuck are you doing twatty?” 

Lucius looked to see Izzy at his bedside and he wondered if the man had been that mean to everyone else when he’d come for them. 

“Dying, what does it look like,” Lucius said. 

“The hell you are, that stuff's gonna make your stomach turn and you’re going to vomit it out,” Izzy said. 

“Am not. Doesn’t matter really does it? I can’t have that much longer left anyway.” 

“No…not like this Lucius.” 

“I don’t see the difference,” Lucius said. 

“You’ll regret it, you’ll miss the little joys in life. Yes death is inevitable but don’t come to it early,” Izzy said. 

Lucius tried to ignore that, and tried to ignore the fact that his stomach really did hurt. What the hell did Izzy know about it anyway. 

“You know that I know,” Izzy said, “I tried to take my life and it wasn’t all that long before I died but that time between…I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Please Lucius, don’t make me take you like this.” 

“Fuck off,” Lucius said, but really he didn’t think it would matter that much would it? But his stomach hurt and he felt like he should vomit and in the end that won out. He puked and passed out. 

Lucius woke up alive the next morning and wasn’t sure how he felt. Both good and bad. But at least Izzy wasn’t there yelling at him anymore. Lucius went out to breakfast and…well the coffee was rather nice. He would miss that. And the sunrise. And talking to Jim. He would miss things he realized, once again and was glad Izzy was there to stop him.

“Are you alright Lucius? You seem a bit off this morning.” Jim asked. 

“I…had a bad night. I was thinking about Pete too much.” 

“You’ll see him again, and probably not long from now. We’re getting fucking old,” Jim said. 

Lucius laughed. That felt good. Laughter with someone else, he would miss that. He didn’t know what the afterlife was really going to be like did he? Izzy was right.

Izzy was right about another thing too. It was only a year later when Lucius went to bed early with a splitting headache only to wake in the middle of the night to see Izzy once again in his room. 

“Thank you Izzy, you were right.” 

“Glad you see it that way,” Izzy said, “I really didn’t want to take you that night. I’m sorry you were hurting Lucius but…” 

“I know Izzy. You’ll look after Jim?” 

“Of course, come on I’ll get you across to Pete,” Izzy said and Lucius followed.

*****

Jim sat beside Lucius bed. They’d put a blanket over the man and was sitting with him for a little bit before they got help to bury him. Jim as alone. Well no that wasn’t right. Jim had people just none of the original crew. 

Jim spent a lot of time by the graves the next morning, saying hello to all of the crew and knowing that they would be with them soon enough. Jim would spend the rest of their life as best they could and some day Izzy would be there for them too.

[soulmate-game]

Maribat March 2021 @maribatmarch-2k21

Day 1: Found Family

“Ah! Bonjour!” A cheery voice called, as a short Eurasian girl bound over to the unfairly intimidating mob of tall people with sharp eyes. Chloe had called in a favor. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe told me that your tour guide cancelled at the last minute, so she blackmail—sorry, begged me to fill in for them. You are the Wayne’s, non?”

The one at the front of the group, clearly Bruce Wayne since Marinette didn’t live under a rock and had seen the man on several American news broadcasts before, nodded and cleared his throat. Man, was he intimidating. Even when he shot her a dazzling smile that was sure to blind Paparazzi with fake cheer. It was a nice smile, Marinette wasn’t about to deny. But it was empty. Distant. And Marinette wasn’t going to buy it for a second.

“Yes, that’s us. Mademoiselle Bourgeois mentioned she had asked a close friend of hers to take care of our tour.”

Marinette nodded again, clasping her hands behind her back. “I guarantee, you won’t miss anything the tour guide would have shown you. In fact, Chloe mentioned that you all were very curious about the now retired Parisian heroes, right? My former best friend ran the Ladyblog back when they were active. I am more than confident that I can answer any questions you have while we go through the city.”

A boy with a white streak in his hair rose his hand, as if he was in a class and needed to wait to be called on. Which, considering the sheer size of their family, Marinette was actually grateful for. But damn, this was another imposing figure. Slightly taller than even the six-foot-three-inches that Bruce Wayne owned, he was solidly built and rocked a brown leather jacket and ripped black jeans. Marinette smiled and nodded for him to speak.

“How old are you? Because I don’t know if twelve year olds are allowed to do guided tours,” there was an obvious tease in his voice, but there was also legitimate concern in his blue-green eyes. Marinette almost missed that concern amid her quickly building annoyance. She even felt her eyes twitch.

“I’m turning eighteen in a few months if you need to know, Monsieur,” she evened out the bite in her voice with an overly sweet smile. “And if you want to get lost and possibly pickpocketed in the busy streets of Paris, then please continue to make comments on my height. If not, we can begin our tour and you might even enjoy it.”

Several Wayne’s snickered at her comeback, one man in particular elbowing the white haired gentleman with a little too much glee. Even the stoic Bruce laughed softly, and a boy with enough bags under his eyes to make the airport jealous nearly fell over himself with his suppressed laughter.

The man himself just snorted, sending her a lopsided smirk that oddly radiated approval. It was almost as if she had passed some sort of test.

“My name’s Jason, Pixie. You already know B. The guy trying to break my ribs,” he pointedly shoved off the one who had elbowed him, “is Dick. He’s Bruce’s first adoptive casualty. The one that looks like a zombie is Tim, we might need to take a break to get him more coffee before he passes out halfway through. The one who hasn’t stopped glaring at you is Damian, the badass redhead is Barbara but we all call her Babs. The annoying blonde is Stephany, the other cool badass over there is Cass. She doesn’t talk much. And the one trying to pretend he doesn’t know us is Duke.”

Each member he introduced gave her a little wave or nod. Even Damian managed a short nod of acknowledgement before resuming his glare. He looked to be a couple years younger than her, so she just brushed it off as teenage drama.

“Alright then! It is very nice to meet you all. Now, Chloe did inform me that you guys are very multilingual, which is another reason she asked me instead of one of our other friends. If you ever need it, I obviously am fluent in both French and English. But added to that, I am fluent in Cantonese, Mandarin, Italian, and I know basic survival Japanese. I also know French Sign Language, though I’m not sure if that’s very useful for you unfortunately. If you ever need to communicate non-verbally, I will do my best to accommodate that. Now, I believe you guys were scheduled to start the tour with a visit to the Louvre, non? Right this way.”

As Marinette led the large group out of the Grand Paris, they didn’t bother taking time to admire the sights before asking questions.

“Have you ever met one of the heroes?” Dick, who might have been shorter than Jason and Bruce but was muscular enough to still inspire caution (and admiration), asked. His blue eyes seemingly stared right through Marinette as he continued; “If you’re almost eighteen, then they must have been active through a lot of your school career.”

Marinette smiled. “They did only retire last year,” she agreed with a nod. “Yes, I have met all of the Parisian heroes at least once,” she snorted at a stray thought. “In fact, I met Chat Noir quite a lot. You see, my old College was basically ground zero for a lot of akuma attacks. And by a lot, I mean a majority of them,” she shook her head before pausing to get everyone to cross a street. “After a while, Chat Noir started calling me ‘princess’ to make fun of how often he had to save me. He’s an annoying ass.”

Despite her words, everyone behind her could easily hear the fondness there. They all traded glances. What if this was a Lois and SuperMan situation? Regardless, they all had a suspicion that Marinette knew more about the heroes than she let on. Or, at least more about Chat Noir.

“When you say that your school was a hotspot for Akuma attacks,” Bruce spoke up cautiously, his Dad Senses going haywire. He didn’t like how nonchalantly she had said it— she was far too casual. Sure enough, he watched as the muscles between her shoulders stiffened slightly at the conversation change. “What do you mean? Surely it couldn’t have been that bad if the school is still around.”

Marinette sucked her teeth, grimacing. “The school is still there, yeah, but only because of Ladybug’s ability. You’ve heard about the Cure, right?” It was Tim who answered her;

“Yeah. It fixed the damage done during a fight, right?” He asked, tilting his head a little. Marinette ignored her brief thought that the gesture made him look like a curious puppy. She sighed.

“Yeah. But when they say damage, they mean everything. Injuries, collateral. Death,” she said the last example darkly, far too much weight behind the word for it to be meaningless. She heard Jason hiss in sympathy. “But there are good things. The Cure also erased anyone’s memories of dying besides the vague knowledge that it did happen, so there isn’t much trauma there to unpack. Not as much as there could have been anyway,” she assured them. “And I’m one of the lucky ones. I never died, and I was never Akumatized.”

“Hmph,” Damian’s voice cut through the brief silence that followed her admission. She looked back at him to see his sharp green eyes staring right into her. “You don’t honestly believe that’s lucky.” It wasn’t a question. Marinette clenched her jaw, turning around and ignoring him.

Because, no. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t lucky that she was the only one that remembered everything— all of the deaths, all of the Akumatizations, everything that others mercifully forgot. Since she lived through all of it, she remembered all of it. And survivor’s guilt is nothing to scoff at.

But she wasn’t about to reveal her trauma, or at the very least the full scope of it, to people she had just met and was leading on a tour.

“If you look to the left, you’ll see a statue that was made depicting Ladybug and Chat Noir back during the first years of their activity,” she suddenly told them, gesturing to the still-standing statue. Nobody missed the obvious topic change, but nobody commented on it either. Turns out the statue was something they had been looking forward to seeing in person, Tim even went up to take a few photos with his camera. Barbara took a few circles around the statue, easily pivoting her wheelchair around it as if she was trying to see every angle and imperfection possible. Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight.

“Your family are pretty big fans, huh?” She asked Cass and Duke, the only ones that had stayed back with her. Duke snorted, and Cass gave her a small grin.

“They like to keep up to date with all the heroes,” Duke answered with a shrug. “Since we’re so high profile, it isn’t weird for us to be saved by one here or there even when we’re away from Gotham.”

Marinette just gave him an odd look, furrowing her brows. “But the Miraculous team has been disbanded since HawkMoth was defeated,” she reminded them. “There’s no need for them to save anybody anymore.”

“Old habits,” Cass spoke up softly, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes locked with Marinette’s. “Not easy to break.”

The smaller woman had a feeling that Cass wasn’t talking about her family’s habit of keeping up to date on heroes.

“Alright! We need to head to the next stop or we might not have time to see everything!”

The tour went pretty similarly. The walks between stops were pleasant, and filled with questions about the period of time where HawkMoth was active. Marinette wasn’t even the least bit surprised nor put off; everyone was curious about those years now that the tourism restriction was lifted and people could ask freely about it. Besides the many questions about the Heroes, Marinette found the group to be very pleasant company. They were polite, but also rowdy in a very endearing way. She caught a lot of inside jokes they had with each other, and a lot of good natured teasing and fighting. They even managed to rope her into it somehow, and she found herself snidely teasing Damian or casually threatening Tim with not allowing them a coffee break. She even got to ride on Jason’s shoulders for a bit after he made another comment on her height that she Did Not Appreciate. But the ride she got made it worth it.

But soon the sun was high in the sky, and it was about time for them to take a lunch break. They had all been walking for hours with only a few chances to rest, and honestly Marinette was impressed that none of them seemed too tired out by it.

“Alright,” she put her hands on her hips proudly. “Since some of you won’t stop whining about needing coffee or being hungry— Dick, don’t you dare buy anything from that vendor! I’m gonna lead you all to my parent’s bakery so we can have lunch and caffeinate all of you. And conveniently enough,” she smiled widely. “The bakery is right across the street from my old College! So you’ll be able to get a look at where the majority of Akuma attacks happened, and maybe I can tell you a few specific stories if you want,” she offered. There were a couple cheers (Tim and Dick) from the crowd and everyone seemed pretty pleased with the next step in their tour. Smiling, Marinette turned and began to lead them in the direction of her home.

Sirens blared, a fire truck zooming down the street next to them.

Headed in the same direction.

Marinette frowned, watching it go. “That’s weird. I hope everyone’s okay, whatever happened,” she mused idly. But as they kept going forward, the sirens didn’t get any softer. If anything, they started getting louder again after a while. Marinette was visibly concerned by then, her pace picking up. “This is my neighborhood,” she told the solemn group behind her. “I know everyone on this street—“ they rounded the corner, and Marinette stopped in her tracks. Her world ground to a halt.

There was the fire truck, stopped right in front of her bakery.

Which was completely ablaze.

A string of curses flew out of her mouth, the little Eurasian wasting no more time before sprinting towards the building. She could hear people yelling at her to wait, slow down, stop! But she ignored them. The only thing on her mind was that her home was on fire.

“Marinette! Wait!” Dick reached out to grab her arm, but like a snake Marinette easily slipped out of his grip and continued forward. Steph was next, deciding to just tackle Marinette— to no avail. The Parisian just shouldered the bigger woman off of her with pure adrenaline fueling her muscles, and everyone else knew by then that they could not stop her. The Wayne’s decided all they could do was jog behind Marinette, keeping her in sight as they tried to gauge the damage.

“The top floors don’t look like they have even been touched by the fire yet,” Tim whispered, though his eyes flew between the building and their tour guide. Marinette was speaking rapidly with a firefighter that wasn’t immediately busy, trying to get information. But before anyone could decipher what was said, Marinette tore a large strip off the bottom of her shirt and tied it in a hasty mask around her mouth.

“Wait!” Bruce was the first to realize what was happening, with his years of experience with self sacrificing children and their stupid stunts. But Marinette managed to kick him away before he could grab her, dashing into the inferno without paying any heed to the many protests that followed her.

The group of Gothamites could do nothing but watch the flaming building, then. If they went inside, it would only overcrowd a hazardous area. Minutes passed, and there was movement in the fire. Out of the doorway came Marinette and a firefighter, both having to work together to carry the body of a large man outside. The sight of the man made the Gotham family blink— he was as big as Bane! And that was nothing to scoff at. But despite his unusual size and muscle mass, the man had all the signs of being a normal civilian.

Marinette didn’t stop there. She ran back in. Coming out a lot more quickly this time with a barely conscious Asian woman— everyone saw the resemblance between her and this new woman immediately.

It had to be her mother.

“Shit,” Duke hissed. Nobody else could say a word. It wasn’t looking good, and this wasn’t a situation where random vigilantes showing up out of nowhere could actually help. Not this late into the fire. Bruce’s hands curled into fists.

The woman that everyone guessed was Marinette’s mother was suddenly struck by lucidity; she gasped and grabbed at Marinette’s hand without seeming to see who she was even talking to. A single word that none of the Waynes could hear left her throat, and judging by Marinette’s returning panic it hadn’t been good.

She rushed right back into the building, and came back out with the last firefighter who had been searching inside.

Marinette carried a child. She screamed out in panicked French;

“She’s not breathing! I need first aid now!”

That was their cue. The firefighters started their hoses, focusing on getting rid of the flames now that nobody was left inside the building. Bruce and Damian got to Marinette first, and this time she listened as they instructed her to set the child down. Damian, being smaller and having more hands-on medical knowledge, took charge of the resuscitation. Marinette sat there silently, eyes riveted to the small child— a girl.

But Marinette wasn’t reacting like a normal civilian to tragedy. She was eerily calm, eyes focused and barely concealing a terrible rage. She took over chest compressions when Damian started to lose momentum, not giving up.

But then the EMTs arrived, and it was only five minutes with the child hooked onto oxygen that the news arrived—

Marinette heard the monitors on the ambulance flatline before she even registered what people were trying to tell her. Manon. Manon was—

Marinette didn’t register Nadya Chammack at first. She was just another body in the quickly growing sea of them. That is, until she heard Nadya’s pained shriek. A mother who had just lost her baby girl.

“Perhaps we should head back,” Bruce offered softly, giving Marinette space but keeping a keen eye on her. He saw her begin to tremble, then shake. He was pretty sure he could hear the grinding of her teeth for a second before she went still. Just… all movement stopped, the tears that had been building just falling silently for a second before they ended.

And he recognized that carefully practiced emptiness in her bluebell eyes. The same emptiness he had seen in Damian’s eyes when he had first arrived at the Manor. The same emptiness he saw in Dick’s eyes in the days following his parent’s deaths.

The same emptiness he saw in the mirror, every time he had another nightmare about the day Jason had been taken from him, years ago.

Suddenly he could imagine all too well exactly what kind of strength she had to have, to avoid her negative emotions ever being used against her during Hawkmoth’s reign. Especially if she had constantly been dealing with her friends and family being Akumatized and/or dying on multiple occasions.

She didn’t even seem to have heard him. Bruce sighed.

“I called Chloe,” Barbara informed everyone solemnly, holding up her phone for emphasis. “She’ll be here in five.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Chloe hadn’t come alone. With her had been Adrien Agreste, former model when his father hadn’t been… well, in prison. Nowadays he was just a normal student who occasionally gave lectures on neglect and child abuse, and how to help children in those situations.

And, apparently, he was also Marinette’s closest friend. Even more so than Chloe. As soon as they arrived back at the Grand Paris, Chloe herded everyone up into her suite and she and Adrien surrounded Marinette with pillows and blankets. Adrien curled around Marinette like an affectionate cat, and Damien even swore he heard the guy purr at some point

“We should probably leave,” Bruce whispered to their hostess, who looked inbetween him and her friends for a moment before jerking her head towards the door.

“I wanna talk to you first,” Chloe whispered back. Once they all filed out into the hallway and the door was safely closed, Chloe took a breath. “First, I want to tell you that I got a call from the hospital. Marinette’s father is stable, but in a coma right now.”

“Is that the man who looked like he could bench press a car for fun?” Dick asked, earning a weak grin from the Bourgeois heiress.

“Yeah, that’s him. But…” Chloe’s face fell, and she looked around as if to double check nobody was eavesdropping. She still lowered her voice anyway. “Her mother, Sabine. She…” Chloe swallowed a lump in her throat, images of the extremely kind Chinese woman flashing through her mind without permission. “She didn’t make it.”

Several people took a sharp breath, acknowledging everything that had gone so wrong for Marinette on a day that had started so perfectly.

“The smoke?” Cass asked gently, but Chloe winced and shifted on her feet.

“No. They… there were rope marks on Sabine’s neck,” Chloe clenched her eyes shut at the admission. “Marinette’s dad might be big, but he’s not a fighter. Sabine, though… Sabine was. She was raised in a martial arts family back in China. I’ve seen Sabine take down five men at once, all twice her size,” Chloe kicked her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “Somebody knew… somebody knew that the little Chinese woman was a threat but the big baker with tons of muscle was harmless.”

Nobody took that well. Not only had Marinette just lost her home and half of her family, but her father was in a coma and it had all been foul play.

“Okay,” Bruce nodded once the news had time to sink in. They could help with this; this was their specialty. They might have only known Marinette for six hours, but she had made a big impression. It wasn’t just anybody that could mesh with his family so seamlessly in that short span of time. “Is there anything else?”

“I want you to get temporary custody of her,” Chloe said it the way only Chloe Bourgeois could. With her back straight, chin high, and the tone of a woman who expected to be listened to or else she’d make life Hell for the person that didn’t take her seriously. Bruce could only blink.

“Can I ask for your reasoning?”

“Marinette has been closing herself off more and more over the years,” Chloe admitted. “Hawkmoth’s reign was hard on her. Only Adrien really knows everything she went through during those years. But even after the disbanding of the team, she hasn’t… she hasn’t allowed herself to get close to anybody new. That’s why I tricked her into doing your tour. She needed to socialize with new people, and if she wouldn’t do it herself then I had to pull some strings.”

A few eyebrows raised at the admission that Chloe had fully planned for Marinette to be their tour guide the whole time. It honestly seemed like the kind of well meaning manipulation that one of them would try to pull off.

“She likes you,” Chloe’s voice went soft again, showing how uncharacteristically serious she was about that fact. “She was comfortable enough to let you guys carry her back here. To let you try to help Manon. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but it says a lot to me and Adrien. And… getting her away from Paris for a while is probably a good idea. She was planning to go to Gotham for university anyway.”

The Waynes traded glances before Bruce crosses his arms and asked some more questions first. Doesn’t Marinette have other family? Answer; only her grandmother, who travels all the time and nobody ever knows where she is until she shows up. Bruce agreed that Gina Dupain didn’t exactly seem like a good candidate for Marinette’s new guardian with that description. But finally, to none of his children's surprise, he did end up agreeing.

“But,” he held up a single finger. “We’ll Wait here in Paris for a week, so that she can try to salvage everything she can from her house and so we can get an idea on how her father is doing. There’s still a chance he’ll come out of his coma fairly quickly. And of course, we will only go through with this if Marinette agrees when we ask her tomorrow.”

Chloe agreed to those terms, looking like a weight had been lifted off of her.

Chloe never cut corners when taking care of her hive. And if that meant making sure that her brave soldier bee could move on to start a new hive, one that was better equipped to take care of her, then Chloe would do everything she could to help that move. And really; Chloe was far more resourceful and observant than people gave her credit for. The butts definitely matched, and Bruce Wayne was her last hope to get Marinette the support she needed. Outside of Adrien, anyway.

Chloe took a breath, watching the Waynes trickle off into their own rooms. Marinette was like the little sister she never wanted, but grew to love more than anything. Though, Chloe knew she really chose Marinette as her sister the same way they both chose Adrien as their brother. She just didn’t want to admit she was sentimental like that. But Chloe knew that someone like Marinette needed a bigger family. More support.

She could only hope that Marinette and the Waynes grew to become family for her like she and Adrien had. Kwami knew that Marinette needed all the help she could get for the foreseeable future.

“You did good, my Queen.”

“I know, Pollen. Now we just have to find out who dared hurt my hive.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dude this took so long to write, but I’m actually really proud of it. Probably gonna take this Maribat March a little differently than last year, and make a few longer stories by connecting some of the prompts together. Maybe each week will be a full story? Idk I’ll figure it out. I know I’m behind but I’m working on it.

I tried to keep the angst out, but it found it’s way in here anyway. Oh well!

[andaniellight]

ANYWAYS. anyways, love in or as a second chance is so good. so fucking good it’s so tragic sometimes. it honestly hit me harder than i expected: i survive on a second chance / i feel your love second-hand / it's someone else's flowers on the table / but I don't mind. it’s been years since i (no. not) killed your wife, and i spent every waking hour of re-evaluating the decision i made that day. i went to school for years to be like you (to be like who i used to), and it’s not merely a childhood dream of mine to be amongst the clouds. but. despite the never-ending recalculation; of whether i made the very right one to save all those people, still your wife wouldn’t come back to you. 

and i am so sorry. i didn’t kill her, and what i did was not wrong, i swear. i’ve said it so many times, have reassured it countless of times. in the papers stained with my signature.  in front of you, until i fell on your feet and they had to drag you away and the glass doors near snapped from swinging so harshly.  on the side shore the first time my daughter’s habit on scratching her arm slipped from my mind so i had to wipe off the dots of blood from it much later. i am still sorry even though i knew it. i am still sorry you had to resent me, packed it all in just for yourself to drown in it. i am sorry you must’ve known this too. i am sorry i still wouldn’t turn back time to trade all those lives just to bring her back to your home.

i did not...kill your wife. and my daughter has been asking about how you doing after i told the world about the consequences of my action. even after all the terror, hours of me almost losing you as well, i wonder if it would change your heart even just the slightest back then: to see the somber adoration my daughter had for your wife’s bravery, all pouring in her eyes and gentle mending. back then, she’s so much younger. so much smaller. yet all she did was telling me, “isn’t that what confused people usually do, dad? aren’t you good at making me not confused anymore? why don’t you try with him too?”

i don’t think my daughter has known you that deep. i remember only once, before that tragedy, she ever met you, and yet she couldn’t just forget about how kind you looked, how i allowed you, a stranger to her, to give her sweets from your front pockets. maybe my wish and my ex-wife's hope for her to be an excellent girl takes a root in her soul way too quickly, because she believed you can be reasoned for this sentimental issue. she believed that you’re a good man, just like her dad, if not more. that’s also probably why i kept dreaming about you around darkest hours before dawn sometimes even though i started to become exhausted of crying in guilt. that’s probably why i kept this ache in my heart every time i hear airplanes overhead, and tried my hardest to not think about you. the less smile framing your young, tired face. that red rage you spat on me out of the office before i left.

i almost couldn’t remember your laugh, you know. can you even believe that? you used to smile easily, speak so warmly even the morning sun would sometimes feel ashamed. and for some reasons, even though i know i did not kill your wife, it still - breaks my heart to even try not to think about you. to even try felt so impossible to me, do you hear me? i felt like i lost more than i could save, i often wondered: what have you done to me? and it's only repeating back at me, too, in your ghostly voice: what have you done to me?

at the end of the day, my daughter was right, of course. it is already such brightest luck ever to be given a second-chance for me in my life. but when it comes from you? you did more than that. you forgave me. you forgave me, even when you weren't there when i made that decision, resulting your wife's sacrifice. you forgave me, and you wanted something to blame. someone to carry those painful wounds inside instead of you, and you chose me. you couldn't help but to choose me, and i understand. just like i couldn't help but to submit to this homesickness that has been occupying my mind since the last time i saw you, i understood. since the last time i saw our city from above the clouds, i kept saying i did nothing wrong, i did all i could, because within my heart i know i should be the one enduring the pain that has taken your warmth from yourself. i kept denying that homesickness just to endure it since last time you softened your features just to look at me from next to you trying to breach critical eleven.

now look at me. i think i'm going to fall on your feet again after all this, if you want me to. the stretchers and oxygen tubes weren't enough for everyone even though the cars are all over the place, but i had to be strong for my little girl. i'm sorry i couldn't follow you to the same hospital to tell you that you will be okay. i promise the next time i show up at your door, i will no longer bring someone else's flowers. promise me the next time i fall on your feet you don't have to even smile at me to say 'i forgive you'. i am promising my daughter so many things as she recovers so very closely to you, and allowing her to help me help you to be on your feet again will be one of them.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! < This is Part 19!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Song Here- (X)

Big thanks to @imdoingathingmom​ and @bbibbisan​ for doing a sensitivity read! 

* This could be worse, you remind yourself as you feed your deer

* Much, much worse

* “How much am I supposed to give them?” The tall, ebony colored man says from beside you, his bright red eyes seem to glow under the pale moonlight

* “Um.. for that one, you can feed it as much kale as you want, but be careful James, he’s kinda insatiable. He’ll eat your clothes if you give him the chance”

* James nods, tearing the kale in careful ribbons.

* He smiles when the deer eats right out of his palm.

* You’re not going to lie, you were 100% surprised when the blond turned out to be Laurent and the black guy was James

* You were even more surprised when he asked if he could help you feed your animals

* You watch him smile as he gives the deer a gentle pat, feeding it more kale

* Yeah, you’re having a hard time believing the teddy bear in front of you is some psychopath tracker

* The story went that while you and Edward were out, the coven decided to play some baseball up in the mountains, and the sound caught their attention as they were passing through

* Apparently this was a fast friends situation, because Carlisle and Laurent have been reminiscing about their geezer pre-colonialism days

* You look to the house, you can see Edward’s inside from the window, his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small smile

* Well that seems hopeful

* “I used to take animals before I turned” James’s deep voice calls you back to the situation at hand

* “Oh were you a farm hand?” You’re peeling an orange, which Henrietta the third is already licking at impatiently

* “Um, not quite, I was a slave”

* You stop peeling the orange

* James tells you his story- he was a third generation slave, fathered from the master, his mother passed away shortly after his birth

* “I was lucky- in a sense, the master -my father- he was a superstitious man, and my mother- she had a reputation”

* His mother was a slave in name only, was what he told you. She was more of a mistress or a concubine.

* “At least that’s what they said, Though I’m not sure how much of that is true, I’m fairly certain she didn’t enjoy being with him. She was just trying to survive”

* His mother had been ostracized, even amongst others like them, but not because of her social position in the household

* “They thought she was a witch,” he admitted. “Bad things happened to people who wronged her, and good things happened to those who helped her”

* That sounds like Alec and Jane

* “When she was on her death bed, she laid a “curse” on the owner of the plantation, that if I wasn’t taken care of she would haunt him and bring misfortune on the entire family for several generations”

* And so, James became the unfavorable third son of the Pickett family.

* “I had many opportunities from her sacrifice, I learned to read and write, but I was more or less shunned from the house- both by my family and by the other slaves”

* It was lonely, almost painful.

* “But there was one thing, a ray of light-“ his eyes flit towards the window, and you follow his gaze to the red haired woman in the green chair

* “Victoria, she was my eldest brothers fiancé”

* The youngest daughter of the wealthiest man in town, from the outside she was a blossoming socialite

* The most beautiful girl in town

* But behind closed doors...

* Victoria was the product of an affair, a mistresses child, reluctantly brought into the household when her mother passed

* “She had big dreams, she loved to read, she yearned to study, to educate herself, to use her mind”

* And so, two lost souls found each other

* “Our family would never have allowed it. So we decided to run away together” he smiles, but it’s bitter.

* They claimed he had abducted her, perhaps to save face, and sent slave catchers to find them.

* “I’m not quite sure what happened-I remember being shot and telling Victoria to go in without me- all I ever wanted was for her to be happy.”

* This is heartbreaking

* “When I woke up, Laurent was there, and my throat burned”

* So Laurent had been with them for all that time, he was their creator

* “Afterwards the three of us worked in ‘the underground railroad’ helping slaves to the north where they could be free”

* “I’m thankful to him, for saving us, we wouldn’t have been able to be in a world where we could be together if it weren’t for him-“

* “But you wonder what the trade off is” you finish and he nods

* No longer human

* Purpose only lasts so long in this life, after all human life only has meaning because you know one day it will end

* “I found a penchant for tracking, it turns out what they said about my mother might have held some truth”

* James calls it “extreme luck”, there’s no other word for his gift.

* If he’s looking for something - or someone- it’ll inevitably find him through pure luck. Like the world bends to his will

* But it only works with finding things

* “These days we work as bounty hunters, and we only feed from people beyond redemption”

* Murder and rapists it sounds like

* “I didn’t know there was another way”

* “That’s understandable, I didn’t know either until I met Carlisle” he looks at you with kind eyes, and so with a deep breath you tell him your story

* About the Volturi, your parents, Alec and Jane-

* “I think you would like them, they’re a little off putting at first, but they warm up pretty fast”

* “Like cats” he says

* “Like cats” you agree

* You tell him about meeting Carlisle, how he saved you,

* how Eleazer gave you a home and a family,

* and about Edward, who gave you a chance to live

* Not just to survive, but to truly live

* “We’re not so different you and I” James says with a smile, and you mirror his expression

* “No we aren’t”

* Though of course you wouldn’t compare the relatively privileged life you had to his

* But the loneliness you both experienced is not all that different

* The tie that binds you all

* And then you do something you’ve never done before

* “You know, I don’t belong to this coven, not really” it’s the first time you’ve admitted it to anyone

* “Oh?”

* “My coven is in Denali, they have a permanent settlement there, and they follow the er... same alternative lifestyle”

* He laughs

* “I’m sure they would love two or three more, we’ve got like thirteen spare rooms in that house”

* You still remember the antiquated scooby Doo mansion-esque hallways filled with armor and swords

* He looks at you for a long time, but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable

* “I won’t follow another leader”

* You nod, that’s understandable.

* Laurent created them, and it seems he’s happy with their current lifestyle, they won’t betray him

* “Not unless it’s you”

* ........

* What?!?!

* “M-me?” You sputter, your orange peel filled hand clutching your chest

* “Why would you want to follow me? I’m only nineteen years old- I don’t even have a high school degree yet!”

* He laughs at your panicked expression

* “You know that doesn’t matter to our kind,” his eyes twinkle as he looks at you.

* “Call it witchcraft if you like, but you’re going to accomplish great things, I can feel it deep in my bones”

* Garrett had said the same thing, but the way James says it-

* You really believe it.

* He doesn’t want anything from you you, not a kiss or a date-

* He just wants to be your friend, to be apart of your vision

* Whatever it may be

* “Here’s my card-“

* He holds out his business card to you, unlike Garett’s it’s a cheap cardboard white with his profession and number on the front

* “If you ever find yourself in need of someone to help with your animals, let me know”

* You nod, taking his card in your hands

* “Um there’s one more thing I could use your help with-“

* He points to the large window, right at Alice

* “I know that girl but she doesn’t seem to know me.”

* “Well how does that work”

* He tells you how many years ago, a woman was looking for her sister.

* “It was a bit of a Cinderella story”

* The woman’s father had remarried quickly after his wife’s death, and the step mother had sent his children away. The younger sibling, his client, was lucky and was sent to a relative.

* But the older, who had suspected something amiss had happened to her mother, was sent to a mental asylum

* “You know me, I find things, it’s my gift.”

* But when he found the girl, she was no longer human. Already turned.

* “I tried to approach her, but she didn’t seem to remember anything”

* “Alice doesn’t have any of her memories from before she turned, she woke up in the woods all alone”

* The only thing guiding her were her visions.

* James nods solemnly

* “Should I...should I tell her?”

* You look to Alice.

* She’s smiling at something Victoria said.

* How many nights has she spent wondering who she really was, feeling so happy she had a family and a partner, but wondering if she left someone behind

* How would she feel when she found out?

* “I think you should tell her.”

* If it was you, even if it hurt, you would want to know

* James nods

* “Okay”

* You walk inside together, and immediately look to Edward

* Your own personal vampire lie detector

* “He did lie about one thing-“ Edward tells you once James pulls Alice aside.

* Was he actually tracking Alice to hunt her?

* Your heart drops at the thought

* “His mother didn’t die from natural causes, she committed suicide because she knew it would secure his future” Edward tells you with a somber expression.

* “He just didn’t want you to feel bad”

* You smile and nod.

* What a strong person, you can’t even imagine

* Edward pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss in your hair

* You feel bitter sweet about the whole thing

* Especially as you watch them leave in the morning, right before you’re going to head off to school

* Jasper is holding Alice who seems vulnerable, but relieved

* They’re leaving so soon, you didn’t even get a chance to get to talk to Victoria or Laurent

* You watch James stand next to Victoria, they’re talking to Carlisle.

* They’re not even touching, but you can feel the intimacy radiate off of them

* You wonder if maybe you and Edward might get to be that close one day

* James meets your gaze and smiles

* “I’ll see you around sometime leader!” He calls out, earning confused looks from your coven and his

* You smile back and give him a nod

* You’re still not sure what your future holds

* But you know you wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for the kindness of others

* You want to make them proud

* And then in a gust of wind, he’s gone

* They all are

* “See, I didn’t commit murder or anything, I told you things were different” Edward says with a teasing smile

* You roll your eyes and lightly shove him while he just laughs

* He’s right though, that was different

* “Enough flirting kids, you’re going to be late for school, and I really don’t want to deal with that dick in the front office acting all high and mighty because they think I can’t control my children” Esme yells

* School?

* Oh sh*t you didn’t do your homework

* “Edward-“

* “I’ll drive and tell you the answers on the way there” he says catching the keys you toss to him

* “It’s the-“

* “The Trig homework, I know. It’s your worst subject”

* Well you do struggle with trig quite a bit

* “Though to be fair you’re pretty terrible at all of them”

* He barks laughing when you shove him before getting into the car through the passenger side

* Carlisle and Esme watch you from the doorstep

* “They’re so good together-“ Esme starts

* “I know, I never thought our Edward would look at anyone like that”

* Carlisle and Esme exchange a look

* Before you came around-

* Well it wasn’t bad, but he certainly didn’t look like that.

* And he never smiled like that either

* Immortality had hardened him, made him into a man

* But with you-

* Well, with you he looks just like a boy

* A boy in love for the first time

* “I wonder what kind of children they might have had” Esme wonders with a small grin

* Him, with his ability to read minds, and you with that positively monstrous power of yours

* Any number of possibilities is possible

* “Best not to think of such things” Carlisle murmurs

* Though you two may be together for eternity, with the endless options, you’ll never have that.

* Esme nods

* “I’m late to get to the hospital, surgery this morning” he mumbles kissing her on the cheek before walking to the car

* She watches him go, his sleek white Volvo disappearing down the road before looking up to the sky

* “What a shame, I would have liked a cute grandchild or two running around” she mumbles to herself before turning to go inside

* “Entertaining always leaves me exhausted, guess I’ll give my employees the day off”

Tags:  @moonlights27​ @thebluetint​ @the100thtwilight​ @awesomebooklover17​ @oneofthepotterheads​ @smileygirl08​ @imdoingathingmom​ @iconicgguk​ @yrawn​ @alyciaswhore​ @little-horror-show​ @wicked-watering-can​ @lazydreamers​ @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​​ @hotmessgoodness​ @jaimewho​ @corabmarie​ @what-am-i-doing10​ @alluring-venus​ @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse​ @im-tired-not-sleepy​ @emmettcullenisahimbo​ @my-super-musical-life​ @smolvampiregirl​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​ @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252​ @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow​ @bwbatta​

[fantasmalresplendent]

Dean died at the ripe old age of 85.

In his lucid moments during the days leading up to his passing, in which Dean was just as sharp and as bright as he was fifty years ago, he remarked that people must think he’d robbed the cradle with a “hot piece” such as Castiel hanging around him. 

“You don’t mind that I’m a wrinkly, senile, crotchety old bastard?” Dean had asked, more than once, but he had always said it with a smile. And Castiel would smile back, replying with the same answer the answer many times, in many ways:

“You’re not senile.”

“Old, but not a bastard.”

“I thought I was the crotchety one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Then Dean would smile, and it would light up the room, and Castiel would wonder again how he came to deserve the focus, let alone the affection, of such a man.

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

“Well if people got what they deserved, they’d… I don’t know, Sam would’ve actually become a lawyer, stayed in school. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, they’d all still be here. I’d get mauled by a werewolf or something, go out with a bang, and Baby,” Dean said sternly, as though chastising the universe itself for such an injustice, “Would never get so much as a scratch on her.”

“You think that’s what you deserve?” Castiel’s voice was soft, not wanting to disturb the still of the night, but steely as he considered even the possibility of Dean’s violent end. 

Dean registered that, swallowing, “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I’d even make it this far. Hunters have the shortest lifespans of any human subspecies,” Dean cracked a smile, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. Castiel knew Dean was doing the math in his head. He knew Dean was mentally recalling how long it had been since Bobby left for heaven. Tallying up the number of people who were gone because of self-sacrifice, mistakes, pure dumb luck. Counting exactly how many years he had outlived his own mother. 

Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean then, embracing him, surrounding him, and they curled into each other completely. Burying himself in Castiel’s neck, Dean had never felt so close to him, and yet so far away. “You don’t have to follow the same patterns if you don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel stated, as if it were that easy. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mauled by a werewolf?”

Dean sniffed in laughter, and that was answer enough.

Castiel found himself stroking Dean’s hair, an action he felt suited him. He thought for a moment in the stillness and in the space between their breaths. “Maybe it’s idealistic of me, but I still think people should get what they deserve. Even- no, especially you.”

Dean took his time answering, opening his mouth several times before actually saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I know what I deserve.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure that out together then. We have time,” Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead and he sighed at the touch. “We have plenty of time. Heaven will wait for you, no matter how long.”

Dean looked up at him then with a pout, “You sound pretty confident in that statement for a dude who hasn’t shown up to heavenly chorus practice in a few years.” 

Castiel smiled, “I’d rather be here with you. Always have.”

The man blushed. “Well, if I go… I mean, wherever I go… Where will you end up?”

“I could go with you.”

“Where?”

Castiel closed the distance between them fully, thumbing across Dean’s cheek as they kissed. “Anywhere. If you want me there, I will be there, whether it’s here or heaven. I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“For however long you want me to be.”

Dean kissed back, his fingers tangling in Castiel’s hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Sam went not long after Dean. It wasn’t a surprise; it was his time as well. His children were grown, his grandchildren almost grown, Castiel knew they’d miss him but that they’d be all right. And they knew to call on “Uncle Cas” if they weren’t, even the little ones who didn’t understand exactly how they were related, or why Great Uncle Dean's husband was only about as old as their parents.

“I mean I love the little gremlins,” Dean had said, cracking open a beer after a long few days of babysitting Sam and Eileen's girls while the expecting parents were in the hospital. He was exhausted, they both were, but beaming from meeting the newest member of the Winchester clan: a healthy baby boy named Robert. “But have you seen Sam’s house? Goddamn mess in there.”

“You… don’t want to have some of your own?” Castiel had asked carefully, taking the beer Dean held out for him.

“You’re making them sound like trading cards. I don’t know, I- I guess I never thought too hard about it.” Castiel could tell this was a lie by the way Dean didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if I had one.”

“Do you think you’d be a good father?”

Castiel had met John Winchester, in Hell. Well, he hadn’t exactly met him. He had really only passed by John’s cell, stole a glance at the infamous hunter on his way to retrieve Dean’s soul. He’d never told Dean what he saw, they were not close enough at the time. He wasn’t sure if Dean would even want to know. Castiel had almost spoken about it many times, but whenever Dean talked about John, “Dad,” a look crossed over his face, sometimes for only a second. A furrowing of brows, a tight smile, a quick transition to happier subjects.

The same look crossed over Dean’s face as soon as Castiel had asked the question.

“Wow. Um, loaded question there, Cas.”

He waited for Dean to meet his eyes before continuing, “I think you would be.”

“Do- wait,” Dean shook his head, trying to understand where Castiel was going with all of this, “Do you want kids?”

“I want you to live a normal life, Dean. I want to be able to give you what you want.”

“Okay, lots of stuff to unpack here. First of all, a normal life isn’t and never was an option,” Dean leaned back against the counter, “I think we can agree on that. Second of all, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...And third of all?” Castiel prompted.

“No, second of all first. Do you want kids?”

Castiel sighed, taking a swig of his beer, considering his words. “I’m an angel, Dean-”

“Is that so!” Dean raised his eyebrows, then squinted as if in deep thought, “Weird, somehow I never noticed.”

That deserved a well-placed eyeroll, but Castiel still had a point to make. “We don’t- I’m just trying to…” he set his beer down. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that I would love and care for a child, if it were ours. If we decided that was something we wanted, I would be so happy to raise them, with you. I’d be terrified,” Castiel admitted, “At the enormous and important responsibility, but I would love doing it, if… if it was with you. I just want you to know that, I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “I don’t want you to think it’s not an option for us, if you want it to be.”

“Okay…” Dean was thinking, swirling the beer around his glass. He pointed the mouth at Castiel, “You’re still avoiding my question,” Castiel really rolled his eyes this time, “But I don’t really think it’s for me, all that white picket fence stuff. If you really wanted a kid, I would definitely hit the library and read all those, I don’t know, fucking parenting guides, and take the Mommy and Me classes, whatever. And I think you’d be a good father, better than me, I’d just let them eat gummy worms and shoot slingshots.”

“Children love gummy worms. They listen and will behave better when offered gummy worms,” Castiel knew this for a fact from very recent personal experience, “I don’t see how gummy worms could pose an issue. Slingshots, however-”

“Okay so maybe I’m overestimating your abilities a little,” Dean held up a hand, “But still, I… I like this,” he gestured to the space between them and around them, “I like us. I like waking up to a clean kitchen and sleeping in on weekends. I like not having to ask more than one person whether or not I can take a drive by myself or crank my music really loud at midnight. And I fucking hate Paw Patrol.”

Castiel smiled.

“Sam and Eileen always need babysitters. That’s good enough for me right now.”

“You’ll tell me though, if this is something you really want,” Castiel insisted, “If you think about it and decide something else.”

“Sure.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, fine, I promise,” Dean took a step forward and leaned in for a kiss then. Castiel could taste the beer on Dean’s tongue and sighed. Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, lowering his voice to a comical level, “We could, uh, you know, try and make some babies,” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel pushed Dean’s laughing face away, but grabbed his hand, turning towards their room.

They hadn’t spoken about it again, not seriously anyway. They got a dog. Dean opened a vintage car garage. Castiel learned how to bake. They took long road trips to the beaches in California, wandered through roadside attractions like Carhenge in Nebraska and Cadillac Ranch in Texas. They bought decidedly way too much merchandise at Oklahoma’s National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. And maybe they killed the occasional vampire, the wayward poltergeist, but the occasions became less and less. There were younger, more spry hunters on the road now, always welcome at the bunker to look through their library or ask advice on a particularly troublesome spirit. Sam even coerced Dean into holding what became a yearly “conference,” “What are we, a tech startup?” for the next generation of hunters to learn from the legendary brothers.

So maybe they spent more time at home than on the road, but home suited them. Routine suited them like Castiel never could have predicted it would. It wasn’t a white picket fence, but it wasn’t a lonely highway either. Dean would joke about how “boring” they’d become, but Castiel reveled in the repetition. The three hundredth time Dean brought Castiel coffee in bed was just as lovely as the third. The five hundredth time Castiel cooked dinner passed without fanfare, though Dean hugging him from behind, chin hooked over Castiel’s shoulder as he whisked, felt like fanfare enough. The one thousandth kiss they shared was in their bed, lazily breathing each other in as the first beams of sunlight shone through the window after a week of straight rain. Home, a thing he and Dean had never known in their youth, held the majority of their most precious, most banal memories. But still, Castiel always looked forward to those moments speeding down a desert highway when Dean would reach for his hand, turn his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and smile.

Time took its time with them.

It seemed the opposite with Sam’s children, who grew up faster than Castiel could keep track of. And as they grew from waddling toddlers to full-fledged human beings, Castiel was fascinated, enamored, but Dean was simply proud. He attended their tournaments, their decathlons. He went to their graduations, weddings, barbecues, and Castiel went with him. They took the kids to concerts and movies, parks and shooting ranges, and Castiel never got tired of the smile on Dean’s face when they threw their small arms around Dean’s neck and called him their “Cool Uncle.” “Hear that, Cas? That means you’re the No Fun Uncle. The No-Funcle.”

And as the crowned Cool Uncle, he teased Sam mercilessly about his minivan and his “#1 Dad” mugs, but Castiel knew how proud Dean was of him too. How glad he was that Sam got the future he wanted, and how grateful he was that that future included him.

The brothers still fought. They still bickered, pranked, and glowered. Sam complained that Dean let his kids use power tools too young when they visited, and Dean complained that Sam’s kids were too old to have never heard “Stairway to Heaven.” The usual, the routine, many times over. But they never lied to each other, at least not about the important things, not anymore. And Castiel was welcome in Sam and Eileen’s house and lives, an honor he felt he didn’t deserve, but as Dean said, maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

It was Eileen who noticed Castiel first as he entered the hospital room the day he'd been informed that Sam Winchester was finally coming home. He didn't have to tell Eileen; she saw it on Castiel's face. They’d already spoken, he’d prepared her for the eventuality a few days prior. Eileen smiled, looking back at her husband, teasing him lightly, but Castiel knew she was holding back on her usual snark because Sam looked, well, tired. Turning away from Sam, Eileen signed, “Are you here for him?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, but someone will be here soon.” 

“You mean they haven’t given you reaper duty yet?” Sam joked from his horizontal position, speaking and signing with his usual quick wit, but not with his usual articulation. Castiel had seen him argue with Dean for fifty years like it was his job, he was accustomed to the precision with which Sam had always wielded his words. Not today.

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it,” Castiel stepped closer so that Sam wouldn’t have to crane his head, “I’m not very persuasive.”

“No kidding,” Sam shakily clasped Castiel’s hand and grinned. “I’m surprised Dean even went with you.”

“It took less persuading than you’d think.”

“How is he?” Eileen asked, but she was smiling, so she knew the answer.

“He’s good,” Castiel smiled back, “Getting what he deserves.”

Sam smirked, but his head sunk back into his pillow as if relieved. “And I bet he’s complaining about it non-stop. Asshole never knew how to take a vacation.”

“Neither do you,” Eileen levelled her husband with a fond look.

“We’ve taken vacations!”

“You always wanted to go somewhere exotic and then you’d just end up in the library. Remember Berlin?”

“They had… well I wasn’t going to find those editions in America, and-”

Sam and Eileen bickered for a bit, and Castiel did end up backing Eileen’s points more often than not, so eventually Sam recognized that he was outnumbered on this particular case.

Castiel bid his goodbyes just in time as the nurse entered the room to check Sam’s vitals. Her tone was cheerful, but Castiel could tell that she too knew what was coming. 

“Well… I’ll see you soon, buddy, huh?” Sam smiled at Castiel as confidently as he could muster for Eileen’s sake, but Castiel knew behind those laugh lines Sam wasn’t so sure of himself. Castiel supposed that worry wasn’t to be unexpected from a chosen one of Hell, Lucifer's vessel, the boy Castiel had once called an “abomination.”

But Castiel smiled, giving Sam’s shoulder one last firm squeeze. “You will.”

  When Dean died, at the ripe old age of 85, he knew what to expect.

He’d visited heaven before. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not an exciting place, but exciting wasn’t necessarily good. Hell had been exciting, and he was in no hurry to return there. Purgatory had been exciting in a different way, years later he swore the stench still lingered on his skin. Sometimes, when he would lose himself in his “senior moments,” he thought he was back in that bloody in between. Or back in hell. Or had gone to heaven. “Times and places are difficult to navigate when your brain’s turning into gummy worms,” he told Cas once. He didn’t remember saying this a few hours later, but that didn’t make it any less true.

His brain was sure full of them gummy worms now as he clung to his body and to his life. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. Bobby’s? The bunker? His childhood home? Sammy had come to see him earlier, at least the kid had looked like Sammy… No, fuck, that was his grand-nephew, Cas had reminded him of that. Sam, his brother Sam, was in the next room. That's right, he’d told the asshole to give him some space, stop smothering him. He sort of wished he was here now though. And Cas, Cas was here, he knew that, but only because the angel was right in front of him. Cas, his friend, was holding Dean’s hand, talking about what their grand-nieces and nephews were doing in school. Dean could swear he already knew these things, but they still sounded new when Cas said them.

Dean looked over at him, and Cas was smiling.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Cas helped him swallow some cool water. Dean cleared his throat, “Bet you’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

Castiel cocked his head, the smile fading. Fifty some odd years and he still had that same confused look. “Waiting for what?”

“Me to beef it, finally. I know this hasn’t been easy, watching me… seeing me like…” Dean took a shallow breath. “No matter where I go next, at least I won’t be a senile senior citizen.”

“Dean,” Cas said, rubbing the back of Dean’s liver spot-covered hand, “Please listen to me very carefully.”

“Got my hearing aids in, go ahead,” Dean joked.

Cas smiled softly again. “It has been the greatest privilege of my life, my existence, to watch you grow old. I feel honored that you allowed me to experience that. Time’s different for me too,” Cas kissed Dean’s hand, “Space and time were never precious to me, not in the stretch of infinity. Not until you. Not until I was able to see you live your life and live it well.”

Tears welled in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He furiously tried to blink them away, but Cas was already there, dabbing carefully with a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m scared, Cas. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen it all. I’ve beefed it a few times already. But maybe that’s why I’m scared? Because… I know what comes next. What could come next. And this is it, right? No more resets?”

Cas nodded.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I don’t end up in heaven-”

“You will.”

“If I don’t, that’s fine, maybe it’s what I deserve, and that’s fair. But… will I see you again?”

“Dean,” Cas said sadly, but with his trademarked firmness, “You are going to paradise. And if for some reason, a completely incorrect and insane reason, you don’t? I dragged your soul out of the flames once, I will do it again. I would do it as many times as I needed to.”

Dean shook his head slightly, “Not fair.”

“It’s not about fair. It’s about the truth. Whether you believe it or not, ET goes home.”

Dean chuckled weakly. He was tired. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to let go so badly.

He felt the bed move as Cas climbed under the covers with him. The angel curled around him, enveloping him. Dean could swear he felt the brush of feathers cradling him and pulling him closer, but he couldn’t muster the ability to reach for them, stroke them like he used to. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll be here when you wake up. Wherever, whenever here is. That’s where I’ll be. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Swear?”

Castiel kissed his forehead. “I swear.”

  Dean opened his eyes.

The phrase, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore” popped into his head, but he suspected, greatly, that he was, in fact, in Kansas. The blowing fields of wheat tipped him off to that.

No, wait. That wasn’t a field, it was a… sandy beach. It looked kind of like that beach he and Cas had stumbled upon driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, what was it called? The one where they’d had to hike down from the lookout point? The one where after they’d trudged back up the trail, they’d sat in the car and looked out over the sea as the sun set? The one where Castiel had smiled at him and the light glinted in his blue eyes and Dean had kissed Cas for the first time ever because he just couldn’t stop himself?

Muir Beach, Dean remembered, blushing at the memory. 

But just as soon as he’d reached the end of that thought, it wasn’t the ocean anymore. It was a lake. On the lake was a pier. He’d seen that pier before, couldn’t remember exactly where though.

Then without warning, but without alarm, Dean saw someone standing on the end of the dock. A young man with light brown hair and a sweet smile Dean would recognize anywhere.

Jack waved, walking up casually, “Hey, Dean.”

Dean grinned and pulled him into a solid hug. “Jack. I missed you buddy, how have you been? Where, uh… are we in…”

Jack chucked, “I think you know where we are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know know, this could… I could be dreaming or some shit, and I guess even in a dream you could say whatever I wanted you to say, so-”

“Dean,” Jack stopped him, “This is heaven. You are in heaven.”

A relieved but small smile spread over Dean’s face. “Cool…” 

“I’m not usually here to meet people who pass on, but we weren’t going to miss your arrival.”

“We?”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around. There was Cas, beaming at him.

“Cas…” Dean reached to embrace him too, only now noticing that the hands that reached out were not as wrinkled as they’d been when he last saw them. He hugged Cas tightly, relieved more than he wanted to admit. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Cas’s hand went to Dean’s cheek, holding him in a kiss. They separated, foreheads resting against each other. Cas’s eyes twinkled, “We had an appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean took a step back, seeing Jack grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Is, uh… is anyone else coming? Or is this the welcoming party?”

“They’re all waiting for you,” Cas put his hand down, and as he did, it was stopped mid-air, as if resting on something solid. Dean blinked, and there was Baby, new as the day she was made, parked on a long, long road that stretched far out of sight. “Any time you’re ready,” Cas tossed something in Dean’s direction, “we can go.”

Dean caught the keys on instinct, they jingled on the simple ring. 

Any time you’re ready, we can go.

He twirled them around the end of his finger a couple times, a thought itching at his brain. Or a couple dozen thoughts.

Cas gave him a look, then turned to Jack, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get everything ready,” Jack blipped out. 

“Get what ready?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” he turned around to face Cas whose brows were knit in worry, bright blue eyes narrowed, “Are you okay?” Dean realized he hadn’t seen Cas clearly for a few years, not since before the cataracts. He’d never gotten completely used to that piercing gaze. 

Dean blinked. “Yeah, I… I just… I’m here. Really here.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And… you’re here.”

Cas gave him that look like he was being patient on purpose, “Yes, Dean.”

“And… fuck,” Dean stood at sudden attention, “I left Sam down there, is he okay?”

Catching Dean's hands in his own, Cas rubbed comforting circles into Dean's skin. "Sam is fine. He was there when you left. That's why I was a little late, Eileen had only just gotten home and I didn't want to leave before she could be there beside him.

"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, concentrating on the physical contact, grounding himself in Cas’s movements, "Okay. I mean I know he's gonna be fine, he was always fine without me," Dean said, almost to himself.

"And you'll see him soon."

The abrupt return of Dean’s panicked look made Cas smile a little, shake his head, "Not that soon, Dean. Don't worry." 

"Right. Of course, yeah,” Dean looked around, down the road, the back to his car, out past the waving grain that had returned inexplicably. “Well,” Dean flashed what he thought was a very convincing smile, letting Cas’s hands go as he tossed the keys once and caught them, heading towards the car, “Time to hit the road, huh?”

"Wait,” the suspicious squint was back as Cas caught Dean’s arm, “Something else is bothering you."

Dean turned around, and the ocean was back. The ocean he’d taken a trip to see, had selfishly insisted Cas come along for the ride for.

He sighed. "I just…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know, I guess it just don't sit right that I’m… I'm gonna see Mom and Bobby and Jo and Charlie and… everyone. How am I going to look them in the face and not feel guilty that I got decades that they’ll never have? And what did I do with that time, sit on my ass? Judge local car shows? Go to freaking baseball games?"

Cas nodded slowly, simply listening. He then hopped up and sat on the hood of the Impala, shoes and all. Dean shot him an offended look.

“She’s a memory of a car, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going to dent.” He patted the spot next to him.

Dean hesitated, but under Cas’s stare, relented. When he was settled, Castiel laced their fingers together.

“I’ve been trying to convince you for all the time I’ve known you that you’re worthy. That you deserved to be saved. That you deserved to rest.” Cas looked down at their entwined hands, “I don’t think I ever really succeeded.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’ve been doing a thankless job ever since you carried Sam out of your burning home. Shit, even before that,” Dean cocked his head, Cas hardly ever cursed, “you were always trying to be the hero for your mother. Some people are at fault for that,” Cas’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, “but it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves and praiseworthy of others. You, in your limited experience, could not possibly know all of the things that you’ve done that have made a difference. But we’re-”

Jack suddenly blipped into existence, giving Castiel two big thumbs up, then blipped out again.

Dean turned, looking from the space Jack had stood back to Cas then back again, “What-”

Cas shook his head with a smile, “I could never tell you exactly what you’ve meant to the world. But we had a, uh, few volunteers that wanted to show you.”

“Cas, could you quit monologuing for a second and-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw movement. The endless sea became endless plains which became endless trees, the landscape changing at a rapid rate.

Dean looked back to Cas in confusion, but he didn’t look alarmed. He gave Dean a timid smile, kissed him behind his ear, and whispered, “Just watch.”

Dean watched. For a moment, the scenery couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. Then, it decided not to decide. Grains of sand took the form of towering trees, a picnic table, a bench. Green lake water formed the shape of a small boy, hunched over and scribbling on the table. Lastly the wheat twirled and spun and became an all-too-familiar-looking young man wearing a jacket too big for his frame, walking over to the bench and sitting down across from the kid.

Lucas. The name came to Dean from deep in his memory, he was that quiet kid who drew Dean pictures of the ghost in the lake. The grain animated Dean’s smile as he talked, the figure of Lucas showed Dean his sketches. Their forms dissolved as the scene changed and Dean's form was pulling Lucas out of the water, the sheriff having paid his due.

The figure of Dean left, but Lucas stayed and was joined by his mother, Dean remembered her too. They embraced, and the figure of Lucas grew, changed into a young man, a husband, a father. Soon a half dozen figures were standing there, waving to Dean, and then they disappeared, melting back into water. Lucas was the last to go as he was the first to arrive. He signed a phrase to Dean, and Dean knew the words: Thank you, Dean Winchester.

Then the sand reformed into a schoolgirl, the shapes in the green water plaguing her with images of mirrors and Bloody Marys until Dean stepped in front of her, holding a mirror of grain in front of the cruel, refracted specter. It dissolved, and Dean’s form bade goodbye, but the girl remained. She grew too just like the boy did, becoming a professor, graduating with honors, writing dozens of books, and changing dozens of lives. She smiled, and waved, and dissolved as well.

The shapeshifters appeared next, the sand in the form of Sam’s friend Zach, his sister Becky, and even Dean’s false shifter form, but the true form in the too-large jacket blew them all away, leaving Becky waving goodbye. She too welcomed a family that appeared by her side, and they all looked so happy and grateful to have each other.

Again and again the scenes changed. Green waters showed the cities he had passed through, the homes that were kept from destruction, entire communities that were healed. The water formed and reformed into smiling faces and waving hands. Some of the people, Dean had known on Earth. Many of the places, Dean had remembered driving through. Most of the people and places, however, were foreign to Dean. He lost count of the number of strangers who appeared, the cities he’d never been to. He struggled to keep track as they cycled faster and faster, as numerous as the grains of sand and droplets of water they were made of. It seemed that a whole generation of people, all over the world, would-be victims of an apocalypse they never even knew was happening, knew him. Through words and cheers and song, they retold the tales of Dean and Sam Winchester, the tales they had only learned once they had passed on. 

Throughout all of this, Cas pressed his shoulder to Dean���s, his presence grounding but not distracting. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand grew tighter and tighter. Cas did not let go. 

Eventually, the images and figures departed. The sand blew away, the waters swirled and dispersed, and the landscape made its final decision. Only a simple field of golden wheat remained, waving and rippling in the wind.

Only in that newfound silence did Dean notice he was crying. He shook his head, wiping the tears away furiously.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean turned to face him, vision blurred, Cas looking at him pleadingly. “You sacrificed so much for so many for so long. You don’t have to be strong right now. You don’t have to be strong ever again if you don’t want to. You have done enough.”

Castiel wiped an errant tear from Dean’s cheek, holding his face between his hands firmly, tenderly.

“You are, and always were, enough. Your job is done. Let. Go.”

Dean did.

Cas silently pulled Dean into his shoulder as he sobbed. Dean didn’t even know why he was crying, didn’t know what for. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was grieving. Maybe he just felt… relief. He wasn’t sure the last time he felt such relief. He wasn’t sure he ever had truly felt it.

After some time, longer than he’d like to admit, Dean sniffed, wiped one hand over his face, and raised his head. Cas was waiting for him, looking at him with care. With love.

“I, uh… I don’t gotta sign any autographs, do I?”

Cas smiled, and pulled Dean in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a bit on the hood of the car, feeling the breeze, breathing in the fresh air. Dean thought he could hear music coming from somewhere, realizing that it was the car’s radio playing softly from the cab. He knew that any time he wanted, he could hop down from the hood of his car, slide into the driver’s seat with the love of his life on the passenger’s side, and carry on his wayward way. Down the road, through the endless fields, towards the ones he had loved and lost. But not yet, not quite yet, because he had time. Maybe in the end, time was all he had ever really wanted, even if he could never allow himself to ask for it. 

Infinity stretched out in front of him like the fields of grain. It wasn’t an exciting infinity, but it was his. It was a long road, a family that waited for him, a shoulder to lean on. It was, at long last, a place to lay his weary head to rest.

[southernlynxx]

A Night to Reminisce

For the Safe Haven Easter Egg Hunt event - Congrats @foundynnel for finding that sneaky egg, and thank you for your patience while your overdue prize was written! Rating: Teen Status: Complete  Fandom: RDR2 Characters: Sadie Adler, Hosea Matthews, John Marston (Mentioned) Canon/AU: Canon Compliant Summary: “Does it get easier?” She asks quietly, that one pressing question she both needs and fears the answer of. Warnings: Spoilers for Chapter 1

It’s close to midnight when Sadie trudges back to camp, the air thick and humid against her skin; a persisting aggravation carried over from the swamp what stood a stone’s throw away.

Her body is still taut as a bowline and her eyes drawn to every twitch and quiver of the undergrowth; it's enough for her fingers to clench around the smooth, familiar barrel of the repeater no longer there. She mutters a quiet curse with Marston’s name not far behind it; recalls how the man had approached her tentatively in the darkness and reached for the rifle like a fool set on removing a red rag from a bullpen, assuring her a twelve hour guard shift was good and plenty.

She liked Marston well enough, so she’d let the rifle go with only the slightest resistance, but not without the low, almost-joking warning not to press his luck like that again too soon. Even though she’d been reluctant to give up the gun, the man’s disconcerted look had been a fair trade in her book.

The camp is quiet as she enters it, looping around Pearson’s wagon to slip a bottle of beer from the well-stocked crate to unwind before a night of restless, haunted sleep. Just as she lifts the neck of the bottle to her lips, a light catches her eye, bleeding around the thick trunk of the oak tree rooted in the centre of camp. With everyone supposedly sleeping and all the campfires banked low for the night, it’s curiosity what teases her slowly around the tree to locate the source of the light.  She discovers a lamp and none other than Hosea sitting at the weathered wooden table  - leaning back in his chair and chuckling away to himself with a bottle at his elbow.

It amuses her to think the old outlaw had outdone the younger men in drinking and thus been left to savour his victory alone, so with a quirk to the corner of her mouth she asks: “Bit late for a party, ain’t it?”

Hosea straightens with nothing short of surprise, yet the eyes that pin her down are shockingly clear and bright — perfectly sober — which surprises her in turn.

“Mrs Adler,” he greets, warm and unbothered by her interruption, “Never too late, in my books. Bessie and I were always up until the wee hours, talking about nothing.” He gestures to the table, to the framed portrait that Sadie had failed to notice before, of a fair, homely woman sitting alongside a young yet unmistakable image of Hosea. “It’s our anniversary… twenty-two years…”

Something in Sadie’s stomach drops, something painfully raw, but beneath it resonates a bone-deep sadness that feels like it could span years ahead of her. Briefly, ever so briefly, she wonders if Hosea had once felt so blighted by fate and spurned by life itself like she did these past hellish months, so torn from his happiness that even boundless sorrow could not fill the void.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she says and makes to retreat, but Hosea holds out a hand as if to stall her.

“Wait— Mrs Adler, please, sit down… Bessie always did love company.”

Her refusal is imminent, weren’t nothing but cinders and bitterness she could bring to a moment she figured was meant to be tender and reminiscent, but Hosea’s beseeching look — etched with lines that soften what would have once been sharp, conniving features — indeed stalls her.

She ain’t had much of a chance to get to know Hosea Matthews, but figures she owes him at least some of her time for the handsome stallion he and Lenny had ridden into camp and matter of factly dispensed into Sadie’s care not two weeks ago. So, mindful of that unspoken debt, she draws back a chair and sits opposite Hosea with Bessie between them.

“Did Mrs Matthews approve of this life you’re leadin'?” She asks for want of anything better, the companionable silence too pressing with a need to be filled. Was always easiest to be the one with the reins of a topic, to keep from being asked those sad questions others posed and used to pry in the name of sympathy when she let them lead. 

Hosea chuckles and takes a sip of his bottle which encourages Sadie to do the same. “I wouldn’t say approve,” he admits. “But… she understood. I’d lived this life many years, and this way of living… the people… they’re hard to leave behind. Not so sure I was proud of trying, for the record, but Bessie, bless her, she understood — came back with me.” He leans on the table, bottle cradled between his palms, and the silence that follows is heavy in a different way, tinged with loss and regret but a gentle, persisting fondness. Sadie rests her elbows on the table, finds her ever-erected shields suddenly too heavy to bear.

“Does it get easier?” She asks quietly, that one pressing question she both needs and fears the answer of.

Hosea lifts his head, pale eyes sharp and searching in the lamplight, and it takes a great deal of will for Sadie not to turn away.

“The rage… the resentment… it fades, slowly, over time. You start to forget the heat of it, the bitterness that you once feared, or perhaps wished, would consume you. The loss… well, that stays with you for a good long while, visits now and then like an old friend you can’t turn away. But the memories, good and bad, the joy they brought you… they never leave you.”

A warmth spreads over the back of her hand, and Sadie looks down to see droplets of moisture that’s soon overlaid by Hosea’s palm; he squeezes tight. 

It’s the only tear Sadie allows herself to shed as they finish their drinks and reminisce late into the night, but it's the first to fall for the bittersweet hope that her Jake’s goodness may yet be stirred from the ashes of her memories, once she'd finished taking to task the bastards that took him from her too soon.

[tezzbot]

applejack headcanons in a sort of timeline i have in my head based on the flashbacks/statements in the show lol this is gonna get long i apologise

aj is born in the sweet apple acres barn to bright mac and pear butter :D

we get the apple family reunion episode flashback where she is lichrally baby asking for apple fritters 🥺

she grows up a bit, just by family gene pool luck shes a strong little fucker and as she grows her family realises she's not just physically strong but strong willed too, it becomes a running joke that shes secretly part mule with how stubborn she can be :P

bright mac had a dog from when he was younger that he loved with all his heart, big mac loved him too but applejack thought was a grumpy old lump of a beast she just Did Not Like This Animal you know how kids can be lmaooo

applejack and big mac dont really leave the farm all that much, theyre homeschooled by their parents and granny smith so, generally they dont have that many friends their age in their childhood, they say hi and play a bit with fillies and colts they pass while helping out with deliveries, aj and rarity possibly have a few interactions through this but nothing really sticks at this point, they know each others names and thats probably it, the apple siblings are a big hit with usual customer and ponies who sell them things in the market

pear butter teaches aj how to play the guitar and she practices until her hooves hurt, her ma is very proud of her, they like to play duets when they have some alone time :] then, deciding to branch out from that applejack also picks up other instruments like the banjo and the fiddle, they find out she has quite a knack for music! (applejack is only slightly disappointed she doesnt get her cutie mark from it, but unlike applebloom would be in the future, she doesnt mind all that much, after all granny smith always said it'd come with time 😌)

not long after little applebloom is born we get the great seedling episode flashback which is a turning point in applejack, a moment like finding out santa or the tooth fairy isnt real, she matures a little bit that day, gains more of the work ethic we see in her as an adult

around this time is when bright mac and pear butter die :( i dont have a concrete headcanon on How they die but the dangerous trade routes the apples have to take to make deliveries may have had something to do with it, or maybe they were trying to protect the farm from something coming from the everfree forest, im not sure

the rest of the apple family make their way to sweet apple acres to give their condolences and help out in any way they can around the farm while our apples grieve :( its sad but it brings aj and big mac closer than they'd ever been

after shes recovered a little from that, i think aj kind of loses herself, i mean how can you not after losing both parents :(( so she decides to leave the farm in the hopes she'll be able to find herself again in manehattan, this is the cutie mark chronicles flashback and where she realises she belongs in ponyville, Runs home and gets her cutiemark

after a little bit, to help her become a little bit more social with foals her age, applejack goes to camp friendship where she meets little coloratura and the two Immediately click, aj gives her new best friend the nickname rara and they're practically inseparable the whole summer, their friendship starts to grow into something more but rara is heading back to manehatten after camp and applejack belongs back in ponyville, so they decide to give a lonb distance relationship a try, they manage to exchange letters back and forth for a long time, ultimately deciding a long distance relationship wasnt gonna work so they mutually decide to break up but still stay pen pals! after a while, the letters stop and they become just a memory in one anothers minds

sweet apple acres eventually returns to a business as usual state, with groups of relatives stopping by the farm now and again to give a helping hoof considering its now run by a late-middle aged lady, two children and a baby lol, applejack, while still doing a lot of tree bucking, is starting to take on a more maternal figure role in applebloom's life as well as being her sister, her and big mac feels more responsible and protective of the foal since she would be growing up with no ma and pa, they sort of took on those roles, applejack more intensely i guess i just see her as having strong maternal instincts embedded in her or something lol, but she for sure isnt "single mom"ing it, with granny smith and other relatives ready to take the little bugger when aj needs to get stuff done :P it takes a village and all that lmao

since at this time aj and big mac are starting to go into town more often and are free to do as they please as long as their chores get done, they start actually interacting more with teens their age in ponyville! applejack starts hanging out with fillies like rarity who she had known in passing but now could finally get to know and the cake's new apprentice and ponyvilles youngest party planner, pinkie pie

after starting to hit some awkward growth spurts as she reaches her teens lol, she starts taking an interest in the business side of the farmwork too, dealings with customers, looking into trade routes stuff like that, this is when the where the apple lies flashback takes place i fuckin love that episode please watch it, and this starts applejack's lifelong promise to never lie ever again which she keeps bc shes a legend as fuck <3

one day aj notices cloudsdale passing through probably to start preparing ponyville for the next season, and she hears a Thud coming from a row or two over from where she's working, she goes over to investigate to find a pegasus filly shaking off what aj can only assume was a crash, she asks if shes alright, n the filly is like of course i am im so tough toughest around actually thanks<3 and aj is internally like hm. this kids kinda annoying. they introduce themselves and applejack finds out rainbow dash is looking for her friend fluttershy, she likes to come down from cloudsdale to play with animals or something, but applejack hasnt seen any yellow pegasi fillies around so the little blue filly says thanks anyway and zips off at what aj can only describe as probably the speed of light, she somehow has a strange feeling this isnt gonna be the last she sees of this kid

she turns out to be right when shes invited to a happy visit to ponyville from cloudsdale party thrown for rainbow and fluttershy, apparently rainbow had bumped into pinkie while asking around ponyville for any idea where fluttershy and of course pinkie Had to make an event out of it once she had helped rainbow find her friend, the party was of course a lot of fun rainbow and aj somehow managed to turn every party game into a competition and despite their first impressions of one another they actually got along really well and gained a good amount of respect for each other, aj eventually found fluttershy sort of hiding away from most of the party and fluttershy actually opened up a little after talking with aj bc of how calming her presence was for her

over the next few years the five got to know each other quite well, anytime cloudsdale passed by rainbow and fluttershy would drop into ponyville to hang out or just say hi, and once they were old enough they moved into their ponyville houses and the five of them became just a regular friend group youd see hanging out on the streets of ponyville, fluttershy helps aj pick out a border collie puppy for help with wrangling critters on the farm (applebloom was getting too old to be sent off to mindlessly run after little animals all the time and she had started going to school so she wasnt around as much lmaoo) and just as a companion for applejack, she names her Winona :]

and then after those few years Twilight shows up! you know the rest from there :P

if i missed anything uhhh whoops<3 lol

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I got a tiiiiny bit of power and my first thought was my need for validation through my fanfiction lol. Hope you enjoy!

<This is Part 1!> / Part 2 Here!

- You’re in the middle of a blizzard, reading to pass the time, the power cuts in and out- giving you just enough time to scramble about trying to make your home just warm enough so you don’t freeze to death

- You sigh when it flickers off again, taking a sip from the hot drink you managed to make while you still had electricity

- Eyes turn back to the book in your hands, with the poor cell reception, and lack of television you’ve found the only thing you can bear to do it read and sleep

- Only occasionally withdrawing from both to eat whatever cold meal you can

- You’ve settled on reading the Harry Potter books, easy enough to read, even in your current condition

- The books are waterlogged, in terrible condition, you treated them quite rough when you were a child, though not all the blame is yours

- It’s an eclectic group, some hardcover some paperback, some borrowed from friends and never returned, some you got as a good deal at your local used bookstore

- You smile when you see all the parts with Fred and George are highlighted

- They always were your favorites

- You stiffile a yawn, you’re just getting to a good part-

- But a small rest won’t hurt will it?

- You feel your eyes drift close

- When they open again you’re looking at rolling hills, a wisp of steam curling into your view every so often

- Huh what a nice dream

- You close your eyes again only to feel a sharp sting in your neck that your eyes shoot open

- You don’t feel pain in dreams

- You’re in a train compartment an empty red bench in front of you

- You’re alone, the green hills rolling by outside the window

- You’ve seen this type of scenery before maybe in a movie, or a book-

- It looks a lot like something out of Harry Potter

- Your thoughts come to an abrupt hault, the memories slowly filtering in

- You’re a witch- your parents passed away in the first war, and you were brought up by your muggle godfather

- Don’t be mistaken, this isn’t some unfortunate Harry-Potter orphan story, your god father loved you a lot

- Even though he was a bit of a sl*t, the revolving circus of women that left his room every Sunday was practically your childhood form of television

- You even did a report on it in muggle school, high left several faculty members feeling concerned

- Still he loved you a lot, and he tried to be as honest as he could about your heritage, and your parents

- But well- he was a muggle, there was only so much he could do

- Still, he took you to kings cross himself, taking you to your gringott’s safe where your parents meager savings had increased by ten fold over the years, helping you pick your wand and books

- “Now I can’t go with you onto the platform, so write and let me know when you’ve reached safely alright?” You nodded, as he pulled you into a hug

- “I’m going to miss having you home”

- “But now you can bring women to the flat whenever you want” You were only joking but it makes him sniffle

- “I’d trade all of that to have you at home for just a few more years”

- You only pat his shoulder reassuring him you’ll be back during the holidays

- You had tried your hand at a few spells, but nothing drastic

- You were excited to see what Hogwarts would bring, what you might learn, and the friendships you might build

- You were so excited that you didn’t sleep all night, finally succumbing to a nap when you collapsed in an empty compartment

- And that brings you to the present, where you’re practically sweating buckets in the red bench.

- Okay, so you’re in Harry Potter now- some how

- And yeah, you’ve always kinda wished you could go to Hogwarts-

- But not like this!

- For one every book, like 3 kids die

- Even the cute ones, like Collin Creevey-

- And honestly if a main character like Fred Weasley died, what chance do you have at surviving?

- You’re probably just one of those nothing characters that dies at the battle of Hogwarts- if not sooner

- You look down at your hands

- Not to mention you’re suddenly eleven years old

- How many times did you have a nightmare you suddenly had to go back to middle or high school again because apparently you missed a class?

- Well this is like a nightmare come true

- You look under your shirt, holding the neck out only to sigh

- It’s your body still, you vaguely remember looking like this when you were younger

- But god-

- It’s like a strangers body at this point

- Ugh you don’t have time to think about this

- your goal right now is to survive

- A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts

- “Change into your robs, we’re getting close” a muffled voice says from the other side and you sigh

- Of course you are

- You sigh as you pull out your plain black wizards robe, almost looks like a graduation gown to be honest

- And that’s the uniform here is it

- Strange

- As you tug on the sleeves you think how you’re going to get out of this

- If you’re right the year is 1990, a year before Harry Potter shows up

- Okay so as far as you know- nothing really happens this year

- You don’t have to worry about all the Pureblood crap because both your parents were wizards, so you’re a half blood at least

- Now it’s all about house-

- If the books are 100% accurate then it’s between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Snape will turn a blind eye to any of your transgressions because of favoritism

- And McGonagall would go to bat for you if the circumstances were unfair

- Still- the Slytherin house seemed problematic what with the old money in that group

- Not all of them were probably like that- just the most prominent characters- you’d really rather not get involved with all that if you could

- And then- Gryffindor was even worse, you might be safe this year, but next year you would be plagued with death flag after death flag- no thanks

- Sprout seems nice enough, but you’re not too sure about that common room, in the dungeons- hard pass

- That leaves Ravenclaw, Flitwick seems nice enough, and the dorms are in a Ravenclaw tower

- Luna Lovegood will be there soon, and well, that could be pretty fun

- So you’ll try for Ravenclaw you think- pulling on your bag and joining the horde of students

- You’re about to join the other first years when you feel a tug on your bag.

- You turn towards the feeling to see two identical boys, a splatter of freckles across their nose, and flaming red hair

- “Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?” The taller of the two asks, a grin curled onto his lips, and his eyes full of stars

- You only nod

- They’re both looking at you like they’ve just seen a movie star and you can’t figure out why

- You’re only eleven years old after all, what could you have possibly done?

- “Was you Mum-“ the shorter starts

- “Was she the famous auror?” The other finishes

- Ah- of course

- Your mother was indeed a famous war hero, known for her noble efforts during the war

- Your god father had told you that at least

- “I’m George, and this is Fred” the shorter - George- says jerking his thumb to his twin

- Oh

- So they’re Fred and George Weasley?!?!

- Honestly you should have known by the red hair

- You can’t believe you’re meeting some of your favorite characters

- You stick your hand out, hoping it’s not too sweaty

- “(Y/N),” you say, “but you already knew that”

- George grins as he takes your hand first, with Fred repeating the motion

- “What house do ya think you’ll go to?” Fred asks

- “We hope you’re aiming for Gryffindor” George adds with a sly grin

- You can feel your face warming up under their gaze

- Alright- change of plan- you’ll try to get into Gryffindor so you can be friends with George and Fred

- It’ll be a little risky, but until the end they weren’t really in any of the serious adventures.

- Besides maybe if you hang out with them, you can save Fred near the end

- “Maybe” you smile at them, hearing a voice call your name for a carriage

- “See you around!” You wave goodbye, stepping into you assigned carriage with a group of other first years

- It’s sort of a mismatch, you don’t quite recognize anyone in here

- Than again the children an age above Harry were never really mentioned

- “Ugh I can’t believe my glasses broke, what rotten luck” a girl besides you says- you turn to see a girl with long dark hair, fiddling with a pair of broken glasses in her hands

- “Ah here, can I?” You ask, holding out your hand, and the girl wordlessly hands you her glasses

- Your murmur a spell and watch as the metal expands curling until it wraps around the broken edge, resembling intertwined vines

- “It’s not the best, but it’ll do for now”

- It’s only when you look up to hand the girl back her glasses that you notice everyone’s watching you

- “How did you do that?” A boy asks, and you shrug

- “Oh well I just said the incantation-“

- “I’ve never heard that one before” another girl murmurs

- You shrug again

- “Anything can be an incarnation of you just put enough feeling into it right?”

- The children clamor at you all at once

- It turns out the two girls were Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott- both Hufflepuff’s if you remember correctly

- Guess they were a year older than Harry in this world

- And then the boy is Blaise Zambini

- You know in the books he’s in a morally Grey area at best.

- “So like this?” He asks and you shake your head

- “You have to put your wrist into it more”

- But now, as he’s begging you to teach him the repairing charm that you cast, all you see is a little boy who wants to learn

- Change of plans, if you get into Slytherin maybe you can watch over Blaise and be his best friend

- That way he won’t get all mixed up in that Death Eater crap

- Maybe you can even get him onto your side, make a coven of witches and wizards and do some non-alignment stuff during the war

- You’re all gathered in the hall, answering a roll call from a rather lithe and strict woman- professor McGonagall no doubt

- After that you’re left waiting, and feeling somewhat bored, and somewhat like you may have had too much pumpkin juice- you hobble off into the corridor looking for a bathroom

- “Hurry back I think we’re about to go into the sorting ceremony” Blaise says and you nod

- You do not, in fact, hurry back

- Because after relieving yourself- you are incredibly lost

- It doesn’t help that all the portraits keep on shuffling around, or that all the corridors here look equally dark

- It’s only on your third time around the portrait of a woman eating an apple do you see what appears to be a person

- “What are you doing in the corridor?” As you come closer you realize it’s a boy, a yellow and black striped tie around his neck. “Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

- He’s quite pretty, with thick brown hair and rosy cheeks

- “I went to the bathroom and got lost,” you hear him murmur first year and raise an eyebrow “What’s your excuse?”

- He lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair

- “That’s fair,” he admits. And then after a moment he says:

- “I’m hiding”

- Your eyebrows thread together

- “Like from a crazy ex lover or..?”

- He laughs again, shaking his head

- “No, from my professor.” And then after a moment, before you can ask ‘is it because you’re having an affair with them’ he says:

- “They want me to be prefect for my house next year, and I don’t know how I feel about that”

- You let that sink in,

- “I know I should do it- it would give me an opportunity to represent my house, and look out for all my friends, and I’m sure my dad would be awfully proud but-“

- But it’s a lot of responsibility

- You get it.

- You sit beside him on the floor

- “You should do it-“ and before he can give a reason why you say:

- “You would get your own bathroom and I think that means a lot in a place like this”

- He laughs again, only this time the laugh leaves in loud gaffs, somehow you feel like this is the first real laugh the boy has shown you

- “I’ve heard a lot of reasons, but having my own bathroom is definitely a first”

- He looks at you in a way that makes your hair stand on end and your skin feel hot.

- “I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory.” He says with an extended hand

- Ah, so this is pretty boy Diggory.

- He does kinda look like a young Robert Pattinson to be honest

- You take his hand in yours giving a firm shake

- “ (Y/N) (L/N) “ and you see his eyebrows shoot up

- “ (L/N) like the-“

- “ Yeah that’s my mum, the famous Auror”

- Cedric’s mouth curls up in a lopsided grin

- “I was going to say inventor- the inventor for the portable infinity box”

- Ah yes, your dad was an inventor. You didn’t know much about it though. Just that his inventions had left you a small fortune

- “My parents were both pretty remarkable huh?”

- And even though they’re not really your parents, and this isn’t really your body, you feel a little sad thinking about them.

- Before you can give Cedric a chance to offer his condolences, you stand up brushing off your robe.

- “We’ll come on Mr. Prefect in the making, show me to where I’m to be sorted” you say with a wave of a hand

- He grins

- “As you wish”

- Maybe being in Hufflepuff wouldn’t be so bad,

- and if you can manage to get close to Cedric, maybe he’ll let you use the prefects bathroom

- Huh, that does sound enticing

- Okay change of plans, you’ll get into Hufflepuff

- For the nice bathroom privileges

- When you get into the hall you feel all eyes turn to look to you

- And even though you’re an adult, you feel awfully embarrassed

- “If you get in Hufflepuff let’s get a butterbeer to celebrate, my treat..” Cedric whispers in your ear, and you catch a glimpse of the lopsided grin curled onto his face before he pushes you forward towards the group of first years

- Your face still feels hot when your name gets called

- You gulp as you move towards the chair

- Well it’s do or die- and you don’t plan on dying here

- You gulp again as the cold wood presses against your thighs as you take a seat

- All you have to do is ask for it to put you in -

- Wait

- What house were you aiming for again?

- Logic dictates Ravenclaw, it’s your best chance-

- But well, you’ve always wanted to be friends with Fred and George it just seems like so much fun

- And then, Slytherin’s not so bad, it would be nice if you could change peoples opinions about that house

- Oh and Hufflepuff might be nice too, you would have someone to look out for you- and you in turn can look out for others like Susan and Hannah

- And so it seems you’ve made peace, no matter which house the hat chooses, you’re happy with the outcome because there’s good and bad in all of them

- These things aren’t one dimensional, they nuanced. And that’s okay

- You feel the hat place on your head, and several long moments of silence pass

- .

- ..

- ...

- ....

- Shouldn’t something be happening by now?

- Like at least whispers in your ear from the hat or something right?

- “I-“ it finally chokes out

- Ah good a decision

- Well what’s your future going to be like?

- “I don’t know” the hat finally sputters, a collective gasp filling the room

- You drop your face into your hands, as small murmurs begin to spread through the tables

- “F*ck me” you mumble

[theclockworkmonk]

Taller

Written for @kataang-week

Day 1: Height Difference

Words: 1,546

Read on AO3

Readon FF.net

******

Despite the ever-present cold, Katara wiped sweat from her brow as she stood back to look proudly at the building made of ice she had just finished. The Southern Water Tribe was swelling faster than anyone had anticipated, and now looked much more like its northern counterpart, with actual streets, canals, and buildings carved with waterbending, instead of the hodgepodge of tents and igloos that Katara had grown up in.

A large part of it had been personally built by Katara herself, and if she was being honest with herself it had long since become unnecessary. A migration of people from the Northern Tribe had come to help rebuilding, swelling the population, and even some Earth Kingdom natives had taken up residence, hoping to establish trade between the two nations for the first time in a hundred years, but they still weren't enough to compare to the population of a proper major city, so large sections of the construction Katara had been working on would remain empty for the foreseeable future.

She knew why she kept going, though. It took her mind off how much she missed Aang.

They had gotten a few months together in peaceful, laugh-filled bliss. But ironically, the same newfound peace that had allowed her to finally slow down and sort out her feelings for Aang, was also what made her finally realize how homesick she was. She had been running all over the world for close to a year, never really having time to think about Gran Gran or all the other people she had left, but as happy as she was in her new daily routine, it still didn't feel like home. Plus, her father had been away from home even longer than she had, and she wanted to make up for lost time. So when he had told Katara and Sokka that he was about to make the journey south, they had both known that they had to join him.

But the world still needed their Avatar, and they needed him in the thick of things, not at the bottom of the world. A hundred years of tension and hostility between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom hadn't vanished overnight, and new fighting threatened to break out every day, even if it wasn't being ordered by the Earth King or Fire Lord, so Aang had his hands full with his duty as peacekeeper and mediator. He couldn't go home with her.

It had broken her heart, and she hadn't known how to tell him she was leaving, but of course she hadn't needed to. With a smile, her sweet boyfriend had been the one to bring it up, insisting that she needed to go with her family, or Sokka would surely cause some kind of catastrophe without her there to look after him, and promised that he would follow her as soon as he could.

That had been seven months ago, and while the pain of missing Aang wasn't as sharp anymore, there were still multiple times a day when she thought about looking down into his gray eyes, or how nicely he fit curled up against her as they lounged on sofas or grassy hillsides.

And her inability to get Aang off her mind certainly wasn't helped by the fact that everyone in the tribe was constantly teasing her about being the Avatar's girlfriend. Every time she would walk past a group of younger girls, they would giggle loudly with each other and, if they were feeling bold, ask if the Avatar was a good kisser. Even Sokka was still coming up with new immature jokes every day; one would think he would get tired of it by now.

So here she was, enjoying her rare piece of solitude on the outskirts of the ever-growing ice city, making it even bigger.

"You know, the basic idea of going home to your family is to actually spend time with your family." Sokka's voice from behind her made her jump.

"Only if Gran Gran stops making wedding plans for both of us," she answered over her shoulder with a laugh.

"You're in luck, it's actually far worse than that," Sokka sighed, putting an arm around his sister's shoulder. "Her target has shifted, now she's of the opinion that it's time for Dad to find another wife."

Katara spun away from him to face him and her mouth gaped open. "WHAT!?" she shrieked so loudly it echoed off of the surrounding ice.

"Yeah, so stop being a loner and come back with me, we need a united front to squash this," said Sokka, and Katara was more than willing to start following him back towards the center of the settlement.

They were approaching their family's hut, right near the edge of the ice shelf where most of the villagers were still clustered, when something made both of them stop dead in their tracks.

To the north, across the water, she heard the distant sound of a loud, low roar. The unique sound of the roar of a sky bison.

Katara and Sokka looked at each other and their faces split into wide grins. They forgot their current familial crisis and ran towards the edge of the ice, waving frantically at the dark dot growing bigger in the distance. Katara was jumping up and down by the time Appa came in for a landing and she could make out Aang's beaming face. The bison's feet hadn't even touched snow yet when Aang leapt off his head and landed in front of Katara, and they both threw their arms around each other and shared a passionate kiss, trying to pour seven months worth of affection into it.

Katara felt like she was floating. She couldn't stop a very girly giggle rising up from her throat as she pulled Aang's face down to kiss him harder—

Wait. Down?

Her eyes snapped open and she suddenly pushed him away to arm's length.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she looked up and down at her boyfriend. No, she hadn't imagined it. He now had a few inches on her. He had shot up so far so fast that he looked like he had been stretched like taffy, his build skinnier than ever and lanky.

Aang frowned in confusion at her reaction. "What's wrong?"

"You're taller," said Katara, like this was a grave betrayal on his part.

"Than what?"

"Than me."

"I've always been taller than you!"

She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him to say, Really? But Aang maintained his completely straight face. "Aang, everyone knows, I'm the tall, intimidating waterbending master, you're my tiny, adorable squirrelmunk of a boyfriend."

"What? NO!" Sokka's voice called from Appa's side.

Katara and Aang turned to see Sokka's look of despair. He had finally noticed Aang's change after helping a very grumpy and now-actually-blind Toph down from Appa's back and onto the ice.

"Ugh, I know, right?" grumbled Toph. "I've had to switch from short jokes to skinny jokes, which aren't nearly as fun."

"But I've got seven months worth of short jokes I've been sitting on!" Sokka whined pitifully. He, Toph, and Zuko had greatly enjoyed making fun of Aang for being shorter than his girlfriend.

Katara looked triumphantly back at Aang, daring him to keep the charade up, but he couldn't keep it in anymore and his face broke out into a mischievous grin, and soon he was laughing heartily, which Katara joined him in, despite her best efforts.

"Okay, you got me," said Aang. "But in my defense, I never expected you to get this….upset about it? I actually thought you'd be impressed, and maybe more than a little attracted. Is it really a bad thing that I'm taller than you?"

"Well I don't know….maybe," she said with a pout she hoped looked cute. "You were the perfect height for me to kiss you on the forehead. Now I have to pull you down." She did exactly that and planted a kiss in the center of his arrow. "See? Far too much effort."

"You're right, I'll miss that," admitted Aang. "However, if I may make a counterpoint," he pulled her close and easily planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Hmmm," Katara hummed in contentment, closing her eyes and smiling. "I suppose we can make due with that."

Their romantic moment was interrupted by Sokka and Toph doing a loud duet of simulated vomiting noises.

"Oh, like you wouldn't be doing the same thing if Suki were here!" said Katara nastily.

"Yeah, sorry Sokka, but the Kyoshi Warriors are providing additional security for Zuko," said Aang more kindly.

Sokka's face fell, and he sighed. But then, his face lit up and he gave a wicked smile that Katara didn't like at all. "Well, there is one upside to that. That means all the attention will be on you two."

"What attention?" asked Aang.

Leading Toph with one hand, Sokka placed his other one on Katara's shoulder and started leading her back to their family hut.

"Come on, sister, with the Tribe's biggest golden couple reunited again, it won't be Dad's love life that Gran Gran is sticking her nose into."

Katara groaned and considered jumping into the ocean.

[zambie-trashart]

I Don’t Own an IPhone: Wanna Trade? chapter 7

Masterlist

Previous: “Good luck Marinette,” Jon said smiling holding his arms out and she ran over to hug him.“You too,” she whispered. The deal was on, and oh how chaotic it was going to be.

(song used I Hear a Symphony by Cody Fry)

Chapter 7: I Hear a Symphony

Jon wrung his wrists nervously standing in front of the apartment building. His text to Damian was left on read, no begging him to stay, no confirmation that they were even broken up. Jon reached into his pocket grabbing the folded piece of paper. He rung Adrien’s doorbell on the door number Marinette had told him and Adrien opened the door looking at him in shock.

“Oh, hey,” Adrien said hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Hey, um Marinette told me what happened, I’m really sorry about your loss,” Jon said blue eyes glazed over in sadness showing Adrien he was truly sorry.

“Uh thanks, Marinette and I actually broke up last night so now I have no one to go back to the house with, did you want to come with me?” Adrien offered and Jon nodded.

“I’ll be there for you,” Jon said smiling lightly. The two started their trek across the city glancing at each other every now and then going to say something but both figuring it would be better to walk in silence. When they arrived at the house or more like manor Jon smiled at the familiarity of feeling less than, it wasn’t a bad feeling in fact it was welcome considering how nice the Waynes were to him.

Adrien stopped as the gate opened, his father stood there welcoming him.

“Who is this, where is Marinette?” Gabriel asked confused.

“This is Jon, he’s a friend. Marinette and I actually broke up last night, things just weren’t working out,” Adrien said to his father who’s eyes softened.

“I’m sorry she wasn’t the one for you Adrien, you know I’ll accept whoever you love into the family with open arms my son,” Gabriel said holding his son’s shoulder in affection.

“Thank you father, I’m going to go show Jon to my room if that’s ok?” Adrien asked and his father nodded. Adrien took Jon’s hand dragging him up to his room the grand piano caught Jon’s eyes first. 

“You play?” Jon asked and Adrien nodded.

“Not for a while, I might be a bit rusty, my father always has me play on this day every year,” Adrien said walking over and sitting down at the piano lifting the lid hands hovering over the ivory keys. “Sorry, I just don’t know what to play,” Adrien said and Jon reached into his pocket again and handed him the paper.

“Don’t play until I tell you ok?” Jon said and Adrien nodded. Jon took a deep breath sitting atop the piano. He looked at Adrien who was studying the upcoming notes and smiled opening his mouth.

Gabriel had a good feeling about this boy Adrien had brought into his home, he seemed a lot like Adrien’s previous partner. He heard a laugh and nodded to Nathalie to come up to Adrien’s room with him listening in on their conversation. The boy had written a song for his son to play, just like Emilie used to do for him. Gabriel felt pain crawl into his heart along with pride, yes, this boy will do nicely. Nathalie looked at him expressing his inner emotion outward on her face, soft smile etching it’s way onto her soft features. A deep breath knocked him from his thoughts. The voice of an angel started singing and Gabriel closed his eyes ready to hear what he had to say.

“I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along. Now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you,” Jon sang softly nodding to Adrien who started playing heart beating fast. He didn’t want to mess up the masterpiece in front of him.

“With simple songs I wanted more, perfection is so quick to bore. You are more beautiful by far, our flaws are who we really are,” Jon sang and Adrien felt his face turn red looking up at him. This was too much.

Gabriel looked at Nathalie who had her eyes closed just like his were previously. This boy had talent, this was the one he wanted for his son no matter what plan he had before with Lila it could be replaced, he would get his son out of here and carry out his plan as Hawkmoth without having to worry about his son being in the way and if the italian girl had a problem with it he could simply bring up her harassment record to the police. He heard his son laugh playing happy for what felt like the first time in a long time.

Jon walked around the piano and sat next to Adrien leaning his head against the taller blond’s shoulder.

“I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along. You took my broken melody, and now I hear a symphony. Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” Jon sang eyes closing as Adrien took in his angelic voice belting out taking a deep breath after watching Adrien’s fingers move expertly across the keys.

“And now I hear a symphony,” Jon sang looking into Adrien’s eyes that stared back faces inching closer together, eyes flickering down to lips then back to eyes asking for permission that was quickly granted as the gap between them almost disappeared. A knock at the door broke them apart as Adrien said come in.

“That song was quite something, did you write it?” Gabriel asked.

“I had help with the piano part from a friend but I wrote the lyrics myself,” Jon said telling most of the truth, he did know music from Damian having him take violin lessons, he didn’t know piano though.

“It was extraordinary,” Gabriel said. “You simply must perform it tonight when the guests arrive,” Gabriel added and Jon flushed. “If you don’t want to sing then Adrien should at least play it.” Jon’s blush faded and he nodded in agreement. Gabriel had opened his doors to family and friends on his wife’s death day after Adrien told him it would be better spent with loved ones then suffering in silence which he reluctantly agreed. As much as Gabriel hated to admit it he would do anything for his son, he was his one weakness.

“Thank you Mr. Agreste,” Jon said smiling at the man who smiled back. Adrien was shocked, his father actually liked Jon and liked something he did, it was a miracle. Another knock at the door shook him out of his thoughts, Felix and his mother stood there politely waiting. Ever since the mix up years ago Felix had been doing his best to regain Adrien’s trust and had succeeded for the most part.

The five walked down to the table and Adrien saw Alya and Nino sitting there already, normally Marinette and her parents would join but it didn’t seem that the elder Dupain’s would be joining them this year, Chloe and her mother walked in as well Chloe took a seat next to Alya and Audrey took a seat near Nathalie. Felix eyed Jon carefully watching the raven haired boy move more than he probably should, first Felix tried to steal Ladybug from him and now Jon, he couldn’t have that.

Adrien grabbed Jon’s hand pulling him out of the room.

“Did something happen with you and your boyfriend?” Adrien asked and Jon tensed up. “Please tell me the truth,” Adrien added grabbing his other hand and Jon looked him in the eyes nodding.

“We broke up last night too, I realized things weren’t working out and there was someone else that peaked my interest, he’s a bit new to me but there was just something about him when I met him yesterday,” Jon said smiling slightly. 

“Could you please sing with me? You have the voice of an angel and I need you to be there,” Adrien said moving his hands to cup Jon’s face and the younger grabbed his wrists nodding.

“Just for you,” Jon said, moving in hugging Adrien tight.

The two moved back into the room Adrien taking his place at the piano and Jon sat beside him on the bench and in the moment it felt like the first time, just the two of them as the music flowed through the room.

“It sounds like something dear Emilie would have written Gabriel,” Amilie said wiping her eyes and for a moment Jon panicked. “He’s so precious,” Amilie added running up to Jon pulling the boy into a hug.

“Mother,” Felix said embarrassed.

“He just, he reminds me of her, down to the voice,” Amilie said smiling.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” Jon said nervously and Amilie looked panicked.

“No, no, it’s ok. I just miss my dear sister, you’ll be a wonderful addition to the family,” Amilie said making both Adrien and Jon blush.

“I’m… we’re not… uh,” Jon said and Adrien’s mouth was just gaping. 

“Could have fooled me,” Chloe said from her seat at the table with a shit eating grin. Of course Marinette told them about the break up and they were all in the corner for the ship to set sail. 

The dinner went smooth in Jon’s opinion so when Adrien took his hand and led him back to his room he knew what conversation was to come.

“Jon, since I saw you yesterday I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. You infected me Jon, it made me feel guilty because of Marinette still being in my life…” Adrien started.

“You fell in love with parts of her but not the whole, Chloe told me, and I have the parts of Marinette you liked but without the others,” Jon said sitting down next to the blond.

“It makes me sound like a dick, I’m sorry if you don’t like me anymore after hearing that, if you even did in the first place,” Adrien said looking down, he wasn’t trying to make Jon feel bad for him or trick him Jon noticed that right away, he was being genuine.

“You’re funny,” Jon said putting his hand on Adrien’s cheek leaning in and the blond closed his eyes as their lips finally touched. There were millions of thoughts running through their heads creating a simple verse hands roaming to hold each other close as Jon pulled himself into the blond’s lap the two falling back against the sheets puffs of air escaping them as lips disconnected. Jon rolled off of Adrien laying next to the blond chest to chest, heart to heart. The steady beating was speeding up as the gentle caress of melody whipped through the air lips meeting again.

The two laughed as they broke apart again. “Does this mean we’re together?” Adrien asked and Jon bit his lip nervously.

“I’d like that but could we talk more in the morning when I’m not all distracted?” Jon asked and Adrien nodded as Jon’s eyes closed. Adrien held him close smiling softly closing his eyes as well. It may have felt rushed but it felt right.

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