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pupandangelscoffee · 4 years ago

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Three makes a family

Eddie Diaz x Evan "Buck" Buckley x Female reader

Genre: mostly fluff, slight angst in the middle

TW: mentions of alcohol, arguing

Word count: slightly over 3K

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

Buck really loved Carla and he knew that Eddie did too, especially since Chris always seemed to happy around her. That is why he did not understand why Eddie chose to hire a babysitter for Chris, clearly Carla could do the babysitting. Eddie tried explaining that he wanted Carla to be able to have some days off, too. After all, it can be exhausting to babysit a very energetic kid all day.

Even if Buck does not understand Eddie’s motivations, he is now sitting in the older male’s living room and waiting for the doorbell to ring, already painting a picture of the babysitter in his head. She probably looks like an evil witch with gray hair and lots of wrinkles on her face, making her seem friendly despite her secretly scaring children by telling them she would eat them. Though as soon as the doorbell rings, Chris starts racing his dad to the door, leaving a very confused Buck behind. “Why did his little buddy seem so excited to see the new babysitter? Why was his little buddy more excited to see his babysitter than he was when Buck came over earlier?? This just feels unfair!” Buck concludes in his head, getting up and walking to the kitchen to grab himself a drink. From his place he can hear the excited yells from Chris, a small smile immediately creeping on his face though dropping almost instantly when he remembers that he wasn’t the one making Chris that happy.

After taking another deep breath, he makes his way over to the living room very steadily, ready to assess you. However, as soon as he lays eyes on you, he chokes up and trips over his own feet, crashing into the small table on the side and dropping his glass. Startled by the sound, Chris, Eddie and you turn around to face him, you immediately jumping up and helping the young firefighter with the broken glass. “You didn’t tell me that I have to babysit two kids, Eds” you state, earning laughter from Chris and Eddie and an embarrassed look from Buck. “You must be Buck, right? Chris has told me a lot about you” you tell the embarrassed man, who is still in shock from seeing your beauty up close. Chuckling softly, you grab the shards of broken glass from his hands before heading to the kitchen to get a towel and throw the shards away.

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks Buck softly while you are out of the room, however, he does not get a response as Buck simply continues staring at the spot you were sitting a moment ago. Chris slowly gets up and hugs Buck, thinking that the firefighter got hurt when he tripped, though Eddie quickly understood what was going on and shakes his head. Seems like Buck 1.0 still existed somewhere in his younger friend, despite everyone telling him that Buck was no longer like that. Perhaps he should talk to Maddie about this, needing someone’s opinion, that actually knew Buck as well as he did. Though before he has the chance to excuse himself, you are back in the living room and making your way over to Chris. “Ready for a fun day, Chris?” you ask him with a smile playing on your lips to which Chris eagerly nods and allows you to pick him up. “I will bring him home at 8 tonight, alright Eds?” you state, turning to look at the older male. “Yeah, 8 sounds perfect. I will see you tonight.” He replies, smiling at you and walking over to press a kiss goodbye onto Chris’s forehead.

As soon as you and Chris are gone, he gets another cup of water and pours it over Buck’s head, successfully pulling him out of his trance. “Do not even think about sleeping with Y/N, Evan.” He states lowly, giving the younger firefighter a glare while Buck just looks up at him sheepishly. “In my defense, you forgot to mention that the new babysitter was smoking hot. A warning would have been nice.” He grumbles as he shakes his head, sending water droplets flying everywhere before getting up and dropping on to the couch with a small groan. The response left Eddie frowning, sure, he was aware that you were attractive and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to you, especially after seeing how much Chris adores you. However, that did not lessen the blow of Buck’s blunt response. Perhaps that was why he was fearing that Buck 1.0 was back, he didn’t want you to be scared off purely because his best friend was incapable of keeping his dick in his pants. “Just try not to fuck her immediately when you get her alone, please. Chris really likes her.” Eddie nearly begs, deciding it was better that he doesn’t add that he likes you too. Buck sighs and nods, pouting a bit. Though for his little buddy, he would definitely try not to get into her pants. After all, he didn’t want Chris to hate him, especially if it was because he couldn’t control himself around you. However, this wasn’t going to stop him from teasing Eddie by flirting with you, because despite the older man trying to hide it, he could tell that Eddie had a thing for you as well.

8 comes quicker than the two males expect and they are slightly startled from their cuddled position when they hear the door opening. Glancing out into the hallway, they spot you carrying a sleeping Chris into his room, unknowingly causing both of the males to smile. Soon enough, you walk into the living room and whisper “he is asleep now and probably won’t be waking up any time soon. We had a lot of fun” before grabbing your bag that you placed on the table in the hallway on your way in. It was clear that you were about to leave, so Buck jumps up and grabs your hand, putting on his best kicked puppy expression. “Why don’t you stay for a bit longer? We have some wine in the fridge and I will drop you off at your place later, I wouldn’t feel right letting a pretty lady like yourself be outside all by yourself.” He states softly, pouting a bit in hopes that it would convince you to stay. You glance between him and his friend, who was eagerly nodding, before sighing and setting down your bag. “Fine, I’ll stay for a bit. But only if you have anything to eat that isn’t almost pure sugar.” You agree, your request causing the older male to jump into motion and quickly rushing into the kitchen to put a pizza in the oven for you. Meanwhile, Buck leads you back to the couch, not letting go of your hand until you pull it away.

Somehow you end up being squished between the two men, a glass of wine in your hand and the pizza on the table. After some small arguing, they decided to just let you choose the movie, so now they had to suffer through one of your favorite horror movies. While you sit there not even flinching, Buck is absolutely terrified and unsure whether he should feel impressed by the fact that you do not mind horror movies or scared that you clearly do not cringe at the big amounts of blood spattering all over the screen. On the other side, Eddie has managed to wrap his arm around your shoulder, with the excuse that he feels safer if he knows that you and Buck are safe and within his reach. He is definitely impressed by your ability to keep a straight face at the movie, though definitely not as surprised as Buck, especially because he knew about your background.

Soon enough the first movie is finished, then a second one, then a third and the next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of bacon in a bed that was most certainly not yours. Looking down at yourself, you realize that the shirt you are wearing is also not yours, leaving you confused for a moment because you do not recall getting changed the previous night. Sighing, you quickly come to the conclusion that one of the two men must have changed you. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you make your way into the kitchen, where you are greeted by the sight of a small family breakfast with Buck, Eddie and Chris. Deep inside your heart, you wish to wake up to that small family every morning, though that wish quickly gets locked up and hidden from the world as you make your way to the coffee machine to get a cup. Chris is the first of the three to react to your presence, calling out your nickname before grinning brightly at you. “Good morning, little one. Did you help make breakfast?” You ask, sitting down on the counter to smile at the nodding boy. “Yeah!! Daddy gave me instructions!” He explains with an excited tone before glancing at the clock and frowning. “Can you convince dad to let me stay at home today?” He asks you with a hushed tone, causing you to giggle and shake your head, whispering back “sorry, but I am sure that the captain would not enjoy you missing your big day in school. Or how else is your group supposed to present the fantastic poem you wrote?”. Chris tilts his head before thinking for a moment. “Fair after school?” he tries to negotiate, causing you to giggle again before nodding. “Sure thing, buddy. Now go brush your teeth and I will drive you to school, okay?” “Okay, mommy!” Chris replies before rushing off to brush his teeth, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind as his words sink into all of you.

Eddie and Buck are watching your interaction with Chris, the sound of your giggles making the smile without realizing it. Surely, you must have noticed that they changed you into something more comfortable last night after you had fallen asleep on Eddie’s chest. However, it just felt natural to the two males to take care of you and make you breakfast, Chris being a bit help. Though when Chris calls you mommy, they freeze and Buck even chokes on his piece of the pancake. They certainly did not expect that Chris was that fond of you, though Eddie is slightly less surprised than Buck, thinking about the countless times that Chris had asked for you to come over. Still, the sudden name caused his movement to halt as well, his brain going haywire, trying to figure out if Chris had somehow found out about his attraction for you and that is why he felt so comfortable with calling you mommy. Or perhaps it was simply because the men had decided to pull one of Eddie’s shirt on you yesterday and that is what made it seem like you two were dating. Or was it the couple of times he had invited you out with Chris and him for dinner? His train of thought is quickly broken though, when Chris appears in the kitchen and says goodbye to the two men, calling Buck dad and Eddie daddy before rushing off to your car. Once again you three are left alone in the kitchen, the silence deafening. “Drive safely, okay?” Buck manages to mutter out, making you nod. Glancing between the two men, you decide to peck their cheeks before rushing out after Chris, grabbing your bag in the process to drive him to the school.

When you return to Eddie’s house, you can already hear the yelling from the outside. Slowly making your way into the house, you can finally understand what the two were arguing about. You. From what you gathered, Eddie was upset with Buck for flirting with you while Buck was countering that obviously Eddie was too chicken to do something about his feelings for you. Avoiding nearly being hit by a vase that comes flying your way, you clear your throat causing the fight to die down and both men to turn to you. “I- uh…” Eddie starts, though you raise your hand to silence him before grabbing the stuff you had left on the couch. “Once you two grow up and handle this like actual adults, then you can call me.” You state before walking out of the house and slamming the door shut behind you, leaving the two men dumbfounded and broken.

Two months. It takes two months of Chris sulking, Bobby scolding them and roughly 5 meetings with Maddie before they can finally face each other again. Yet whenever they stare at your number, they chicken out, too afraid to call you. You had been right, they were acting like two children throwing tantrums, build on the unspoken feelings between them. But now that they were dating steadily and currently curled up together on the couch, they finally decide to call you up. However, much to their distaste, a man answers your phone and for a moment they believe they lost any chance with you, if there even was one to begin with. “Hello? Are you still there?” The man on the phone asks, causing Eddie to nod and reply with a small “yeah”. A hum is heard from the other side of the line before they hear “what do you want from my sister?”. Never in their life did the duo think that hearing such a question would be such a relief. Buck reacts quicker than Eddie and explains the situation, what has happened and why they were calling now. Another hum is audible before some commotion can be heard and then they hear your voice, a sense of happiness washing over them. For whatever reason, you actually agree to meet with them after your work, giving them the address of your workplace.

Your shift ends in 10 minutes when Buck and Eddie walk into the club where you were working, quickly spotting you behind the bar, deciding that your outfit was definitely too short for their liking. Holding on to Eddie’s hand tightly, Buck weasels his way through the crowd and stops right before you at the bar, smiling softly as you smile back. Though he can’t help but look you over once more, the small shirt definitely compliments your chest yet does not leave a lot to the imagination and your shorts are barely allowed to be titled shorts by how short they are. Eddie notices what the younger firefighter is doing and quickly elbows his ribs, earning a grunt and a displeased look from the other before smiling at you. “Three of your favorites, nena.” Eddie yells over the music to you and watches as you get to work, mixing three shot glasses filled with some purpelish looking liquor before sliding them over to him. “What would you like, Evan?” You ask softly before adding “a blowjob?” with a smirk, causing the young male to choke on his own spit, believing he did not hear you correctly. “I am talking about the drink, dumbass.” You explain with a small laugh, preparing one before setting it down before Buck, who still looks like a puppy which just got caught destroying your favorite pair of shoes. “T-Thanks,” he finally mutters out, grabbing the drink and mentally kicking himself for sounding like a schoolgirl that was talking to her first crush. You three fall into an easy conversation, barely paying attention to the time, not noticing that your shift was over until your coworker walks up behind you and tells you to start leaving. You nod and lead the two firefighters to the back room that usually only employees are allowed to enter before grabbing a shirt from your bag and pulling it on before looking at the two men. “Before you ask, yes, it is your shirt, Eds. It is just very comfy.” You state, grabbing the rest of your belongings before smiling at the boys and leading them out of the back door.

A warm ball of cuddles and limbs, that is how you would describe the three of you on Eddie’s bed right now. After you left your workplace, the boys started bombarding you with questions and you answered them all honestly, about how you chose this job in hopes that you would forget the two men that made your days so much brighter, about how you missed Chris and a bunch of other things that they wanted to know. On the way back to Eddie’s place, they stopped at some restaurant that was still open and grabbed the food. Once you were all at his place, you ate and then proceeded to talk about the three of you, about the feelings the duo had for each other and for you and how they wished for you to be a part of the small family they had created. First you jokingly denied them, teasing them that you did not have any feelings for them, but after seeing the hurt flash on their faces, you quickly explained how you returned their feelings and that you missed them a lot within the past two months, even if Carla had kept you up to date with their wellbeing. So now you were all cuddling and just enjoying the presence, because even if tomorrow was not given, if tomorrow everything could fall apart, right now you three were a happy family and you would not change that for anything in this world.

Chris’s reaction the next morning when he walks into the kitchen and sees you sitting on the counter, sipping your coffee while Buck is standing between your legs is priceless. You did not know that the kid could even hit such a high note, but he manages to do so when he screams your name and scrambles over to you, pouting at Buck standing in his way. That was most definitely not what he had in his mind when his dad told him that there was a surprise waiting for him in the kitchen. Though you quickly push Buck to the side, earning a whine from the male about how mean you are, before jumping off the counter and hugging Chris tightly, excited to spend the rest of your mornings with those three.

#eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley x eddie diaz #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley #eddie diaz imagine #911 fanfiction #9 1 1 fanfic #911 fanfic #9 1 1 x reader

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xneens · 4 years ago

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i do

Warning: language, major character death, violence, angst

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Soulmate AU where the last words you will ever hear from your soulmate is written on your wrist so you won't know it's them until you've lost them.

Staring at the words on your wrist, you held back another sigh, tracing the black ink with your finger, dread and sadness washing over you. You shuddered at the words, unable to rid of the lump in your throat.

I do.

Born with the words on your wrist, no one knew when they would meet their soulmates, unknown to who your other half was until they died. It was cruel, knowing the last thing they'll say to you would cause you immense pain. Horror stories stemmed from the agonies of other's pain, movies made out of the tales that would become famous.

Some, those who were protective of their hearts, buried themselves away from others, but fate always led them to their soulmate. No matter how short the time would be stretching from the duration of your life to a single second before you'd lose them. The best outcome to happen was when two lovers let go, and spend their lives together, to die at when they were to, finding out they had spent their lives with their one and only. That possibility was becoming more and more realistic with modern technology and wishful thinking.

Yet, there was some tragedies. The unfortunate ones would have their sentences written on their wrist, knowing they'd only know their soulmate for a short time, or not at all. “It's nice to meet you.” "What's your name?" "Can I get your number?" "Sounds like a date." Not knowing them at all was, to most, was worse than to know them at all.

A few rare situations when your soulmate would die young. Parents told horror stories, reading the words off their kid's wrist. "We're playing dodgeball in gym!" "I didn't do my math homework." "You can come to my birthday party. I'm turning seven next week!"

Then there were the most terrifying stories. They were the ones turned into thrillers, a real life story turned into a disrespectful horror movie. They'd lose each other, aware there was nothing they could do. "I thought you locked the door." "I don't think we're alone." "Behind you!" "Someone's in the house."

Thankful none of the situations applied to you, you still couldn't get the words branded in your wrist out of your head. It lingered, whispering the last words before your heart would be torn, only healed when death came for you. Some looked on the positive side, knowing meeting their soulmate was inevitable.

Natasha broke you out of your reverie as she tackled you down on the mat, leaving you breathless at the sudden attack, confused to how you've become acquaintances with the ground. You spit your hair out, grimacing in disgust as a few strays stuck to your lips. With your hands tied behind your back, and crushed against the former assassin's body, you turned your attention on her smug smile, glaring daggers.

"Okay, get off before Tony pictures us scissoring again." you grunted, too tired to push her off of you. Natasha laughed, letting your wrists go as she shifted her weight off of you, sitting next to you on the thick mat. You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes in exhaustion. "That was unnecessary, Nat."

Spending the day at the gym with Natasha seemed like a good idea after being beaten by Clint the day before. You knew you were getting rusty, without all the life threatening missions and people to save, your skills wasn't needed. Besides, you loved yourself too much for Steve to convince you to join him on his suicide runs. He woke up before the sun rose, and it only took a few runs to realize that even you couldn't keep up with his fast pace. ("Although, I would love to see his fast pace in the bedroom. Ow, Sam!")

After tying the score—despite the lack of training, you and Natasha still tied when it came to hand to hand combat—you had sat down on the bench, which was now sweaty, and sulked, sighing over the words written on your wrist.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbows as she eyed your expression, eyes narrowing when you didn't return her smile. "What's with the sad face? Are you thinking about your soulmate mark again?"

"You know I only allow myself to think about it once every other month." you replied. Natasha made a noise in respond but you ignored it. "Shut up, I know I'm pathetic. No need to voice your opinions."

"You're not pathetic, just compassionate." she whispered, her eyes sparkling with remembrance. Natasha had lost her soulmate on a mission a few years before the Avengers were formed, but it didn't stop her from living her life. You hoped you could follow her path when the horrid time came. "Out of curiosity, if you had to guess, do you think you've met your soulmate by now?"

You've given it much thought, coming up with a good theory that even Tony Stark would be impressed by. Of course, you didn't share it with anyone, giving Nat the simplified version of it. "With the amount of people I've met, I like to think so."

The playful smirk returned to her lips, a wiggle of her eyebrows as she digested your words. "And do you think a certain blond, big-hearted, super soldier might be it?"

You reached for the nearest water bottle, throwing it at her only to have it hit the wall behind her as she dodged it. Natasha laughed, putting distance between you, sensing an attack. You scowled at her but it lacked real annoyance. "Oh my, God. I have, like, the smallest crush on him and you're already planning our children's proms."

"I'm thinking: under the sea." Natasha joked, grinning when the corner of your lips curled up. The both of you burst out laughing, thinking about Natasha in a ridiculous kid-friendly dress as she chaperoned yours and Steve's future offsprings.

As if summoned, Steve chose that moment to enter the training room, freezing in his tracks when he saw you and Natasha cackling. His expression made Natasha double back into another round of laughter while yours subsided in giggles. Steve cleared his throat, looking down as a slight blush decorated his face.

He murmured your name, walking up towards you, his blue eyes eyeing the ground with too much interest. "Did you hear about the party Tony is making all of us go to?"

Natasha stopped laughing immediately, jaw clenching at Tony's betrayal. They had a truce where Natasha would stop hacking into his system to play Spice Girls—with the help of Bruce, of course—and Tony was to stop throwing parties every month. It's been three months since the last party, the one where Natasha has almost killed the billionaire. Tony couldn't hold off any longer. She stood. "I'm going to kill him."

Before either of you could get a word in, Natasha was already out the door, her stance deadly as Tony Stark awaited his death. The door slammed close behind her as Steve sat down beside you on the mat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

You admired his ruffled hair, blond strands hanging down on his forehead. You had mentioned to him that he looked sexier with his long hair, and it seemed like he was following your advice. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Steve Rogers was every girl's waking fantasy. It truly was unfair how good he could look in sweats.

"Hey." you greeted, smiling sweetly at him. Being happy around Steve was as easy as giving Pepper Potts presents. He returned the smile, grinning from ear to ear as he looked away, his cheeks reddening even more. "What can I do for you, Stevie?"

"Thor wanted to have some kind of Asgardian contest that may or may not level the top floor. I thought you might want to do something else, have a peaceful night instead of risking our lives to one of Thor's games?" he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not letting excitement cloud your senses, you grew cautious, eyes narrowing as you looked around the room, trying to search for a hidden camera that would allow Tony to get you back from ruining his thousand-dollar crocs. Steve Rogers was not asking you out in no way.

Steve saw your expression, quickly backing off. "Only if you want to. I'm sure you missed Thor and all. It's okay, I can suffer a few third degree burns—"

"No!" you shouted, making Steve flinch at the suddenness. You cleared your throat, cheeks heating up. "Uh, I mean, yeah. I wouldn't mind missing the party. Where did you plan on going?"

Slightly surprised, a smile crept on his lips. He ran a hand across his face to hide the cheeky grin. "Wherever you want to go."

You threw him a smile, unhealthily giddy. If Clint were here to comment, he'd compare you to a happy school girl with a massive crush. "Oh. Okay."

A voice interrupted the short silence, scaring both you and Steve. You suspected the AI, Friday, had been invested in your conversation. "If I may make a suggestion, I advise you both to leave sometime in the next hour before Mr. Stark ropes you in. I'm inclined to think Mr. Stark won't be above blackmail."

"Thank you, Friday." you murmured. The AI said it's goodbye, far too amused for your liking.

Steve got up, offering his hand for you. Both of you were smiling like idiots, cheeks hurting from the too-big smiles that adorned your faces. You had a suspicion you somewhat embodied a clown. The super-solider kept his hand wrapped around yours. "Would you like to leave at this moment, or get changed?"

You shook your head, liking the warmth of his touch. "I'm good. Let's leave."

Steve Rogers was a gentleman, that was confirmed by his acts and the influence of being raised right. Despite that fact, he was a savage in the bedroom. Or half the time, out of the bedroom. You had been surprised, yet pleased, when you fell into his bed halfway through the second unofficial date. After that night, Steve finally built the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend—a term he found silly but otherwise a happy milestone.

After years of being friends, Steve was ready to begin the rest of your lives together. No one was surprised, besides you, that he had proposed three months after the first official date. Being head over heels, you excitedly agreed, only to blanch when Tony started a petition to let him plan the wedding with you. Pepper had stopped him.

No one knew what happened the night of Thor's and Tony's party. Though, Steve made a smart choice to ditch it when you both found a floor of the tower littered with blackened metals and slightly burnt walls. The team wouldn't speak of the incident, not that neither you or Steve cared. You had both been too jubilant to interrogate them.

The wedding day came. Steve had been stopped by Thor, failing to sneak into the room you were in. No matter how strong he was, Thor wouldn't allow any bad luck to happen especially after you had lied to him about naming your firstborn after him. Steve tried, and failed, to tell him you weren't going to name his son after the God of Thunder. Bucky was too busy arguing with Sam about the flower decoration to help out Thor.

Dressed in the lavender bridesmaid dress, Natasha burst into the room, a smile adorning her face. She had thanked you multiple times for not dressing her in those ugly dresses she had seen on Pinterest. "You getting cold feet yet?"

"Mine are toasty warm." you mumbled, hands trembling at the thought of declaring your love in front of a crowd. You wondered if it was too late to get ear plugs so no one would hear all the gooey, cheesy vows you would utter to Steve.

"Very convincing." Natasha teased, taking a shot of the wine laid out on the table. Placing the flute down, she eyed the door, prepared to attack Steve if he managed to get away from Thor. "Alright, what're you worried about?"

You bit your lip, messing up the fresh layer of lip gloss Pepper had put on. Glancing out the window, you saw the crowd settling down in there chairs. The anxiety built up inside you. "Um, falling down the aisle. Accidentally saying the wrong name. Messing up in my vows. Dying of embarrassment."

"You'll be great, I promise. No one's going to die. You won't trip because Tony wouldn't let you. You won't say the wrong name because Steve's is practically implanted in your brain and you'll be too busy staring into his ocean blue eyes that you won't mess up. Now, are you still worried?" she asked, laughing when you managed to trip over your wedding dress.

"If anything, Tony's going to purposely trip me." you muttered, tempted to take a swig of some liquid courage, but the fetus in you held you back. The ceremony would start soon, and being too nervous, you hadn't eaten any breakfast. It was probably a good thing considering the nausea you were feeling. Why call it morning sickness when it didn't happen in the morning?

"You're being paranoid, everything will be great." she sighed, turning to the window, staring directly at the green hybrid. The Bruce and Natasha thing was unsurprising but kind of weird, especially with the whole sex thing. You had gagged at the thought of Bruce trying to fit inside of Natasha, and stopped altogether. "I'll be right back, I gotta do something."

She left the room before you could address her, groaning when she left a tiny crack in the door. Natasha knew how much it annoyed you when people left the door open when you originally had it closed. Heaving a sigh, you went to close the door, only to be met by a small force. Steve stuck his head through opening, his worried frown turning into a dazzling grin as he spotted you.

Without a word, he took you in his arms, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, closing the door behind him as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You pulled away, wiping the lip gloss smeared across his lips. Steve did the same, smirking at his handy work. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers. How do you feel?"

"Like I want to tangle myself around you in every way possible." you whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. Steve chuckled, his thumb drawing small circles on your back. "How about you, Husband?"

"I've been waiting for this day for a very long time. You can't imagine how jovial I am." said Steve. He gave your nose a quick peck, and you giggled. "I know it's suppose to be bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony but I couldn't bear it."

Giggling, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his neck as you sucked softly at the sensitive skin. "Hmm, I can't wait until I'm officially yours. Do you think we have time for a quickie? It'd really help with my wedding nerves."

Steve laughed, but the sound came out a little breathless. Even with the thickness of the wedding gown, you could feel him on your hip, smirking when he shifted. "While that's a very tempting offer, both Natasha and Pepper would kill me for ripping apart this beautiful dress."

"But Steve—" your whine was cut off by Natasha pulling Steve out of your arms.

The redhead glared at him, pushing him towards the opened door. "You, out, now."

"I'll see you—" Steve began to say, only to be cut off when the door slammed in his face. Natasha turned to turn her death stare on you.

"Look at your makeup. I can't believe he snuck in here with Thor on his ass." Natasha complained, pushing you towards the vanity, quickly applying the tube of lip gloss on your lips. You blinked back the tears as she practically poke your eye with the mascara wand, trying to fix Steve's touch on your slightly smeared mascara. "You look like you're going to puke."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. "I'm good. Where's Tony?"

"Right here." he answered, entering with a velvet box in his hand. The billionaire set it down on the vanity before eyeing your stance. "Wow, you look ..."

"Like I'm gonna throw up all over Steve's suit?" you finished, panic rising.

"I was going to say gorgeous but now that you mention it, you do look a little green." he teased, earning himself a nudge from Natasha. Tony rubbed his ribs. "If you want to ditch, I have the car running in case you want to make a quick getaway."

You rolled your eyes, wishing you hadn't let him talk you into such a big wedding. All you wished at the moment was to take Steve with you and elope. "Thanks for the offer but I'm good. Let's get this over with."

"And here I thought you weren't romantic." Tony joked, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

Natasha checked her watch, the music audible. Morgan, the flower girl was already walking down the aisle along with Pepper's nephew on her heels. The former assassin opened the door, grinning. "Wait a few seconds before you follow me."

And with that, she walked down the short hall before stepping outside, the aisle was cleared by flowers adorning the sides. Weeping willow branches hung down from the huge tree, creating an illusion of fantasy, the little arch at the end of the aisle was created of leaves and even more colorful flowers. You were surprised no one was sneezing with the amount of pollen.

You took Tony's arm, taking another deep breath. Looking at him, you swore he was a bit proud. He smiled at you. "I hope you know I take full credit for the union of your two souls."

Ignoring his mini jab, you raised an eyebrow. "And how so?"

"There was never a party." he informed, grinning cheekily. He pulled you towards the opened door, walking down the hall. "I made it all up so Rogers would get the balls to finally ask you out."

"Then what the hell happened to the tower?" you asked, confused. People were beginning to stand but your curiosity became more important than your nerves.

Tony winked. "That's for me to know, and for you to dot dot dot."

"God, you're such a nerd." you mumbled, turning your attention ahead as your feet hit the white carpet that moonlighted as the aisle. The nerves began to bubble, and you gripped his arm tighter in fear of falling face first.

The ceremony was a blur, Steve just as nervous as you had been, becoming more and more braver as he spoke his vows. By the end of it, you could barely see him through the tears brimming your eyes. If it wasn't for the waterproof makeup, you were sure you would've cried your face off.

You had just finished your vows when the priest had asked if you would gladly wed the man in front of you for the rest of forever. You whispered a soft "I do."

The priest turned to Steve, the super-soldier happy beyond belief. He asked him the previous question he had asked you. Yet, Steve, being eager, had almost cut him off near the end.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with love and warmth. "I do."

Then everything turned black.

You awoke in the Medbay, needles puncturing your arm, a tube tied to your nose. Every single inch of your skin hurt, your eyelids heavy as you opened your eyes, only to close them once again when the bright fluorescents shone. You felt someone squeeze your hand, a finger brushing along your wrist.

Turning your head, you glance at the person, finding out it was Tony. While he was relieved you were awake, something in his eyes made you believe he wished he had more time to prepare you for the worst. At the moment he uttered those words, you wished your ears had been damaged in whatever hell Hydra had dropped on your wedding.

"Steve's dead."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes #marvel #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans #tony stark #natasha romanov #chris evans imagine #soulmate #soulmate au #ansgt #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #thor #steve rogers fanfiction

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kawaiijohn · 3 years ago

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Rewind, Rinse, Repeat Chapter 1

For Invisobang Minibang 2021

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 3 finished, 12 total Rating: T+ Warnings: Major and Minor Character Death- all temporary, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Strong Language, Mild Body Horror, Mild Injury. Other warnings listed by chapter Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Pariah Dark, Levi | Leviathan (OC), Mal (OC), Observants, Mentions of other characters Ships: Lost Time, Dark Ages, CW & OC child, CW & Levi | Leviathan (OC) Genre/Tropes: Human AU, Magic AU, Found Family, Character Origin, Hurt/Comfort, Original Magic System and Lore Additional Tags: Existentialism & Existential Angst, Memory Loss & Amnesia, Corruption, Clockwork Centric, They/Them Pronouns for Clockwork, The Fenton's A+ Parenting, Obersvant Bashing

Summary

“Clockwork can I ask you something? How did you become a ghost?”

The tale surrounding the mystery of Clockwork's existence; a world where magic is common and ghosts are not. A world where one lonely, average mage tries with all their might to save what means most to them. A world where things need to be remade into something better.

Shout out to my betas @bibliophilea and @moonlights-shadow-warrior for keeping me sane, @13thdoodle for letting me use their OC, Levi, @dailudannos and @sailor-toni for providing art for later chapters, and all the folks over at @invisobang for being awesome!!!!

Chapter One below the Cut. The rest is available on my Ao3 account because tumblr linking/posting is hella broken.

Chapter 1: An Inquiry

“Hey, Clockwork? Can I ask you something?”

Clockwork looks over from the mirror they were watching intently. “You already have, Daniel,” they reply, offering the other a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha. You've never said that to me before.” The reply is filled to the brim with sarcasm, as per usual. Danny rolls his eyes, but a small smile gracing his lips betrays the fact he isn't annoyed in the least. “Seriously, though. It’s something that's been on my mind like... every day for the last two weeks!!" He raises his hands towards the sky, flopping back in the air dramatically. "But... it's kinda, y'know. Personal-” Danny trails off, slightly embarrassed.

Of course. Clockwork finds themself smiling fondly- Danny thought he’d said something he shouldn't have- an inquiry that could make his guardian upset (as if it's even possible to upset Clockwork like that). A question is a question, and this is a worrying habit of his that the Time Master is trying to help break, even if it's still somewhat endearing to them.

“I uh, I mean... it’s personal about- to you, not to me. That’s what I meant!!” Danny continued.

Clockwork stares at him, unblinking. An idea (or thousands) of what he may ask flashes through their mind’s eye. With a single, calming pulse to their Core, Clockwork pushes the involuntary slideshow of timelines aside as if they're no more than curtains. They need to focus on the window in front of them; the here and now, not the temporal drapery.

It's a habit they are trying to overcome for Daniel’s sake. To ensure their ward's growth, they need to stop peering into the near future as often- not discourage his asking of questions. After all, what is a child if not but a well of endless curiosity? Cutting Danny off is also sure to disallow the development of any trust or patience Clockwork needs to build within their young ward. They wouldn’t receive either of those things if they assume what he wanted to ask.

It's common decency to not assume, lest it ‘make an ass out of you and me’, according to Daniel.

It is going to be a tough habit to break, but by the (other) Ancients, they're trying their best. Their ward deserves the infinitesimal choices all other children have when asking things of their guardians, so even if they do glimpse to the future, they will not mention it to him. Clockwork refuses and will continue to refuse to take their ward’s agency away; to not have a choice in things is a fate worse than fading.

The boy has been quiet, stuck deep within his own thoughts even after an impressive five minutes and thirty-seven and a half seconds of silence (uncharacteristic of the boy, Clockwork notes).

Now that just won't do- he must have lost his train of thought. Clockwork gestures at the ghost boy, motioning for him to continue. It works- Danny adverting his eyes and clearing his throat, "Well, it’s just like- you know so much about me- like, how I died, the whole Ghost Zone Prince business, that entire disaster doomed timeline with Dan... I just keep thinking- no- realizing, that I barely know anything about you!!” He throws his arms up in thinly veiled frustration.

Clockwork smirks. “You had another question, did you not?” They place a hand along the edge of the closest Temporal Mirror, turning to face the mirror- still halfway facing Danny. They can see his inner debate clearly written on the boy's face- the mirror reflecting as if it were an ordinary object (for now). They turn towards it fully and watch Daniel's reaction from behind them, acting as if they aren't finding joy in their ward's hesitation. It's always adorable when he tries not to offend Clockwork. "I may be able to work with time, but that doesn't mean I wish to float here waiting for an answer all day."

Danny blinks a few times, rolling his eyes again in response. Clockwork is certain that if they weren’t secured to his skull by human musculature they’d fall out and roll away. “Well, I’m sorry for trying not to be rude and like, asking outright... but since it’s you I have to always be super direct!! Jeeze you’re frustrating sometimes!” He floats towards his mentor, crossing his arms.

Danny often forgets Clockwork isn't easily upset over trivial things such as questions. Most questions are about things they already know the answers to, anyways. And the few things that they don’t know when asked, they figure out soon after. Such is the duty of the Master of Time- to be a step ahead of everyone and everything else always. Besides, in most timelines (68.3% of them, to round up) the question Daniel wishes to ask is along the lines of ‘What was your past like?’ Another small fraction (a little under 20%) the question is ‘How did you get so strong?’ . And even in the remaining timelines, the question would be along the lines of ‘How do your time powers work?’

They are each things Clockwork expects Daniel to ask them at some point or other, as it were. There isn’t really anything Daniel can ask that could be too shockin-

“Clockwork, I was wondering… how exactly did you become a ghost?”

They... did not see that coming… in any of the timelines they’d glimpsed. Clockwork stills for only a fraction of a moment, but it’s long enough for Danny to flinch, feeling as if he’s crossed a line. They hear more than see Daniel shrinking in on himself as they look off into nothing, buried memories waking slowly in their mind.

Clockwork is brought from their introspection by a mumbled curse. “Shit! I mean... uh crap??" They just stare at Danny as they are brought back to the present. "Never mind just... sorry for asking... Oh man! Did I offend you somehow? Ancients dammit, this is what I was worried about!!” They watch him curiously, soft whirring coming from their ward's anxious core. “We can just forget about it if-” Daniel’s hands wring together nervously, shoulders tense with worry and face full of guilt.

Right- facial expressions are also important for a young ghost's emotional communication and development. Sometimes the Time Master wonders if their isolation in Long Now affected their social behavior (it did). Their face is carefully blank most times, so they set to fix it- they offer a small grin, hand coming to rest on Daniel’s shoulder. “It is more than fine, Daniel. You asked if you could ask a question- which is in fact, two questions, I should note- but I gave you consent to ask it of me.” They squeeze his shoulder to placate the worry.

“It’s about time I told you this story, as it were. I just did not foresee it being told at this very moment." Clockwork floats slowly, turning away from their Mirrors. "Come along- it’s best we sit for this. I’ll have one of your friends bring us some tea.”

Danny floats after his mentor, looking around the room the two normally use to study history of the Realms. “So, uh… is it a long story or...?”

“Oh, it is very long, indeed.” They fly through an ornate door and over to their favored 'chair'- a stack of comfortable cushions in violets and blues, both impossibly cool and warm at the same time. They recall Daniel discovering the room, eyes full of wonder and posture relaxed. Clockwork chuckles- the first time their boy had wandered in here he'd decided to take a running dive into the pile, jumping up in surprise when it was cold as ice, yet warm as fresh laundry. The expression on their ward’s face is one of their fondest memories; a happy moment amongst all the tedium of watching time.

“It may take a while to tell this tale proper. But, it is a story that ought to be told.” Daniel makes himself comfortable on his chair of choice- an unholy combination of 'borrowed' pillows and what appears to be a more modern gaming chair- complete with an obnoxiously bright green-black color scheme. Clockwork has to hide another smile as Danny wiggles himself deep into the pile. “So, Daniel- what do you know of the phrase ‘Totems of Power’?”

“I thought I was getting a story, not a pop quiz! Unfair!!” His disdain for schooling makes Clockwork laugh fondly before the boy continues. “But they’re like… hmm how do I explain this? Well, there’s the universe right? Like every timeline and every result of every timeline all at the same time kind of ties into the main universe thingy- but there's still a main timeline, and that's kinda like... Main Street, and the other possible timelines are uh... like side streets with dead ends? But there's other forces that like, aren't time and… uhhh...”

He hums, crossing his arms deep in thought. Clockwork takes the time to purr-sing-hum at one of the many blobs floating in and out of their lair; Daniel had asked them to keep some around as pets and the Time Master was happy to oblige. They were unable to deny something so beneficial to the young Prince, after all. The one deemed ‘Mr. Pants’ by one of Daniel’s friends answers their call. Clockwork buzzes to it a quiet request- ‘bring Daniel's favorite tea and mugs for two, please.’ The little thing chirrups and zips off through the walls- eager to serve the Lair’s owner and be (potentially) rewarded with pats (from Daniel).

The Time Master brings their undivided attention back toward a grumbling ghost boy, lost in thought. “Daniel if you need to ask for help I’m glad to-”

Danny snaps his fingers, coming to a realization before his mentor can finish. “I got it!! The best way to explain it is ‘The Universe needs to run smoothly, so there’s certain forces- like Time or Space- that are upheld by a powerful entity, like a person or like… the avatar of that concept? Yeah, something like that, but they ensure the aspect they represent is properly cared for so the universe doesn’t completely like, die.’” Danny nods to himself. "It's why you stepped in to stop Dan, to make sure the world didn't end like that."

“That is correct- it is my job to ensure this universe of ghosts and reality doesn't crumble prematurely. Now, do you have a recollection of any other Totems you may have encountered?”

“Well, yeah! We call them ‘Ancients’, though- so like… Pandora is the one for war and history, and Nocturn is for like… dreams? The Void or something, maybe? And then there’s old man Pariah who isn’t one, but he said there’s a Leadership Ancient somewhere, and then-” Danny pauses, blinking at Clockwork in realization. “Wait, you asked that for a reason, didn’t you?”

“That I did. Becoming the Totem, or Ancient of Time is where this story starts.” Clockwork hums, seeing Mr. Pants fly back towards the two- nearly spilling scalding tea all over the ground. “Now then. We have drinks. We are sitting comfortably. I believe it’s time I spin my tale for you.” They take a sip, closing their eyes in bliss.

They open them once more and see Daniel sitting, eyes full of stars and eager- Eager to hear, eager to fire off a question a minute. It makes a chuckle bubble up in their throat, to see their favorite person so excited to learn.

“Once upon a time, there was a human; average in most ways, a simple person living a simple life. They would get up in the morning, perform their daily tasks, and go to sleep at night. Day in, and day out- a boring, but fulfilling existence.

“However, where this story differs from what we recognize as reality, is that in this realm, humans who could control magic were the norm. Think as if it were like one of those fantasy games you and Tucker play together- mages, healers… all of those and more were commonplace when I was alive. Yes, humans can wield magic now, but it is nowhere near as frequent as they could in our tale.”

They pause, seeing that Danny was about to interrupt. “Wait wait- this realm? Like- this is a completely different reality?? And people can wield magic now??? Are you messing with me? Like… I thought it was all just-” The boy stops, his train of thought drifting off the tracks as it tends to now and then.

“Yes, first, this is a completely different realm from either the Mortal Plane or the Ghost Zone. Second, Daniel- tell me... have you not noticed the magic of those you have encountered? Blood blossoms… a reality warping gauntlet? The existence that is ‘Freakshow’ in general should be a red flag, seeing as his talents were… strangely non-ghostly in origin. Not to mention objects such as the Infi-map...”

“Man, I wish I could forget about Freakshow… who mind controls ghosts??? He was the worst!” Their young ward crossed his arms and grumbles.

“If you’re done sulking about your past misadventures and former foes, I was in the middle of telling a story, if I recall correctly. One you asked I tell you…” Clockwork simply stares, unblinking as steam wafts from their slowly cooling tea.

All is well, they knew Danny would only take approximately 4.85 seconds to snap his attention back to their story. Clockwork sips their tea, waiting.

Danny snaps out of his thoughts only a millisecond off of Clockwork's prediction. “Sorry... it’s just super weird to think that magic actually… still exists? Like ghosts are real and all but magic being a thing feels a bit far fetched, don’t ya think?” He pouts, brow furrowed.

The Master of Time finally closes their eyes, removing the hood from their head. White hair floats gracefully behind them, settling just past their shoulders. Clockwork opens their eyes again- a serious, yet warm expression directed at their ward. “Magic is simply defined as reality altering acts using both energy and the willpower of a sentient being, if that helps.” Another sip. Mr. Pants made a wonderful batch of tea, as always. They smile wider when they notice Danny’s expression- the boy has never seen them without a hood, and they know doing this will (in 99.78% of all possible timelines) convince the boy to take what they said seriously. ”Just as ghosts can be defined as ‘ectoplasm given form and consciousness’, forces beyond humanity and the physical realm can be explained with scientific terminology if you know where to look.”

“So like... what all did magic have to do with this ‘simple human’ version of you? Did you ever have the power to shoot lightning?? Could I shoot lightning if I tried? Like were you some sorta time wizard? Is that why you’re all… timey-wimey and powerful?” Danny wiggles his fingers with a look of confusion on his face.

Clockwork always finds their Core warming when their boy acts his age. He's abnormally prone to shoulder the destiny of the world on himself and often forgets he's just a kid. “You could continue asking questions one at a time, or you could allow me to tell my story. The choice is yours, Daniel.” They smirk, watching as Danny purses his lips, his steady flow of questions stopping short. The best answer. “Perfect- all is as I thought it would be.”

They close their eyes and reminisce as they continue. “Now- to answer your last question… Yes. You could say magic is how I came to be the Master of Time in both the Infinite Realms and the mortal plane, but there is much more to the story than that. Other players, situations, and pure circumstances. The universe in its infinite chances and possibilities brought myself, as well as many others to the situations they face here and now.” Clockwork pauses, taking the moment to stare straight through Danny’s soul. “Even yourself.”

The boy shudders, an appropriate response. “Wait... me? Did you… do something in the past to like… a past version of someone we know?? Can that even happen???” Danny is already enraptured by the story, eyes twinkling as his mentor opens up about themself. The boy is obviously thinking about everything that has happened, everything that could possibly have happened, and everything that Clockwork could possibly drop on him.

They feel Daniel cautiously tug on loose strands of time to see if he could possibly scope out what is about to be said, quickly failing to do much else beside give himself a small headache. “Time stuff is still really confusing, Clockwork…”

“You could say that. You could even say that trying to mess with time in the inner sanctum of Long Now is the most confusing ‘time stuff’ one could do if they were not myself.” They grin- a Temporal Mirror appearing behind them with a thought.

“What’s the mirror for?” Danny catches sight of himself and looks away, embarrassed that he’s been literally glowing with power after trying to do something so simple with his developing powers. The glow is something he’s been working on suppressing recently. After all, it would be a shame if other ghosts could see the boy powering up by aura alone.

The Master of Time smirks, bringing tea to their lips again. “I thought it would be fun to attempt braiding my hair and doing my makeup for once. It has been an awfully long time since I’ve done either.”

They stare at Danny who just bursts into laughter. “Did you just use sarcasm??? Man, I didn’t know you could lighten up, Clockwork!” The boy laughs harder, sinking deeper into his nest of pillows. After a few minutes he was finally wiping tears from his eyes. “But no. Seriously… what’s the mirror for??”

“Why, what they are always for, Daniel- seeing through time and space.” Clockwork waves their hand. The mirrors show an image of a human with dark hair and burgundy eyes. They have a large, hooked nose and medium brown skin- and Danny finds himself having a hard time guessing their gender. The human sits at a desk, paused in time with the delicate gears of a clock sprawled along the desk surface, tools in hand.

Behind Clockwork, the image changes, showing the human living through an average day- images play in small spurts, never showing the whole story. “Do you understand what’s being seen?” The young boy nods, grabbing Mr. Pants out of the air as the blob drifts between the two. Good, he will probably need the companionship, especially towards the end.

This isn’t the easiest story to tell, nor is it easy to listen to, but with a sip of their tea, Clockwork continues.

#danny phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #dp #phanfic #art #my fic #RRR #dantes vibe corner

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faulty-writes · 3 years ago

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Alright, this was actually sitting in my Google docs for a month or two. But I finally finished it, that being said. I hope you enjoy it!

WARNING: This fanfiction contains manga spoilers.

[ You met Tomura when you were attempting to run away from two bullies and despite witnessing one of them turn to dust by Tomura's hand. You maintained an odd but meaningful friendship with him until you were forced to relocate. Now years later, Tomura suddenly remembers you when he sees you on the news and he's determined to track you down in order to resume his friendship with you. Even if that means blackmailing you into staying. ]

"You will now be known as Tomura Shigaraki…" those were the very words that changed his life. Separated him from the rest of society and stirred that deep-seething rage within him. However, this was something you had yet to know.

Especially being the age you were when you first met the boy formerly known as Tenko Shimura. The other kids weren't so fond of him. In fact, you heard many rumors, some of which you didn't believe before you even laid eyes on him.

Like how Tomura was the neighborhood creepy kid and wore extra hands, whatever that meant. You honestly weren't sure and maybe you were just looking for trouble when you began asking questions. Like where does the creepy kid live and what makes him so scary?

The other children would provide you with answers, but their tales seemed too embellished for your liking. In fact, they sounded like something out of a fairy tale. But given the fact that the world itself was the mirror image of a comic book where most were gifted with some type of quirk.

Where heroes, villains, and vigilantes sought out their own form of justice, maybe it wasn't too far-fetched to believe some parts of the stories. Of course, even so. You understood what it was like to be considered an outcast considering your parents were well-known heroes

This, in turn, made the other kids assume you thought highly of yourself. But in reality, you didn't have that much self-confidence. But that didn't stop the other kids from bullying you which caused your fateful meeting with Tomura.

You were on your way to school when it happened. Despite your quirk being rather impressive, you still couldn't control it and your parents strictly forbid you from using it. This was in part due to the fear that if their child illegally used their quirk and harmed someone as a result. Their reputation would be ruined.

You wished you didn't feel obligated to play by the rules considering you found yourself running down the sidewalk with two bullies hot on your tail. You stumbled over your own feet a few times but forced your legs to continue carrying you.

Their mocking cries were still so close and you glanced around. Trying to figure out where you could possibly hide or at least stray them off your trail. However, you noticed that the buildings were becoming more decayed the further you ran down the sidewalk.

The normal bright red bricks you were used to seeing were now dull, covered in layers of slime and dirt. The windows to several buildings and houses were cracked or completely broken. Some even had wooden boards up in place of windows.

You slowed your pace, panting softly as you glanced at a wooden fence ahead of you. Planks of wood were sticking out crudely, only being held in place by a rusty nail or two. You glanced over your shoulder, the haunting smirks of your bullies caused another shiver down your spine and you took your chances running for the fence.

"Come on, come on!" you frantically exclaimed, trying desperately to find a space to squeeze through. You then began to pull at several planks, hoping one of them would snap off. Surely enough, after trying a few. You ended up stumbling back when one of them finally gave way.

Unfortunately, you only managed to break off half of it but there was still enough of an opening for you to climb through. "Yes!" you exclaimed in victory before tossing the now half-broken plank to the ground and quickly rose back to your feet.

It was a little difficult, but you managed to step halfway through the opening before you were suddenly pulled back. Your head smacked into the portion of the plank that had remained intact. 'Come back out you coward!' one of the bullies shouted as their grip on your wrist tightened.

"Let go of me!" you demanded as you dug your feet into the ground, you refused to get pulled back through. To be subjected to whatever unnecessary punishment they wanted to put you through. You pressed your foot against the fence and pulled with all your might.

Such was not an easy task for someone so small, but you found yourself stumbling back and onto the ground. A soft hiss came as you lifted your arm, noticing a series of deep red scratches that were left along the length of your forearm, more than likely the last attempt from your bullies to keep holding onto you.

However, this was forgotten when you saw their faces in the frame of the broken part of the fence. 'There they are! We're coming for you, Y/n!" one of them stated and you frantically got up to run. But yet again you found yourself stumbling back when you hit something and ended up back on the ground.

"H-Huh?" you frowned, feeling tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes before you saw him. He was tall and looked slightly malnourished, his skin was pale and he appeared to be hunched over. He had ear-length black hair but you couldn't see his face given the fact a hand was covering it.

Actually, several hands were covering him. Around his throat, shoulders, and down the length of his arms. You couldn't help the scream that escaped you, it was like you were looking at someone from a horror game.

'Is this...' any thoughts halted when the boy tilted his head and began to observe you. Then he lifted his arm, that's when you noticed his long thin-looking fingers and the way his nails were bitten and uneven. He took a step towards you and you closed your eyes.

Expecting to feel that hand somewhere on your body, yet he paused when he heard the commotion caused by the bullies that were kicking and punching at the wooden fence. ‘Come back out, Y/n!’ they shouted again and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you watched one of them attempt to squeeze through the opening you created.

This resulted in their body sticking halfway through. It didn't make you feel any better knowing that the fence was shaking and you suspected that at any moment, it would collapse. You turned back to...oh God. What was his name!? At that moment in your life, it didn’t matter.

You found yourself stumbling to your feet, ignoring the dirt you were covered in and those scratches on your arm that continued to sting. With no rational thought left, you reached out to grasp the front of the mysterious boy’s shirt.

You couldn’t see his facial expression, but you did notice his body language. The way his arms went back and his spine curved so he was leaning away from you as if he either didn't want you to touch him or he didn't want to touch you.

But regardless of that, you leaned close to him or as close as you could without touching the hand that was placed over his face. “Help me please!” you frantically exclaimed as your hands trembled, somewhat losing their grip on his shirt as you turned back to see someone’s foot go through one of the wooden boards that made up the fence.

You turned back and shook the boy. “Help!” you pleaded once again before feeling something hit the back of your head, you let out a cry and reached up to grasp the back of your hair. “Hey!” you shouted as you removed your remaining hand from the boy’s shirt and turned around to see the damage done to the fence.

Chunks of wood were missing and cracks were visible in several planks. The bullies were now stepping through the broken fence with wicked smiles on their faces, ‘Nowhere to run now’ one of them said as they began to stomp towards you. However, the second bully stopped them by grasping onto their shoulder.

‘Wait, look…’ they pointed towards the mysterious boy you had run into and you turned to look at him, wondering what was so wrong. He looked scary, maybe even creepy but he couldn’t be dangerous. Right? How wrong you’d find out you were.

Still, you turned your attention back on the bullies. Watching as the first one smacked that hand off their shoulder. ‘So what!? That Shigaraki is a freak! Not like he’ll do anything, come on!’ they grabbed the other's arm and beelined for you.

A whimper escaped as you took a step back, holding your hands out which seemed to catch Shigaraki's attention and he found himself observing you once more. However, this didn't last long as the leading bully proceeded to shove him out of the way.

You wanted to shout, but all sense of courage left you when one of the bullies grabbed your arm and roughly pulled you forward. You could hear the soft pops of your bone echo as your arm was stretched out.

"Let go!" you demanded as you tried to yank your arm back, but the bully seemed unphased. The second bully walked over and reached out to grab a section of your hair before giving a painful yank which caused you to let out a hiss.

‘Gonna cry?!’ they taunted. ‘Aren’t your parents pro heroes? You’re pretty weak, huh?!’ you squeezed your eyes shut, curling your free hand into a fist. You wanted to hurt them, somehow make them pay for what they were doing to you.

But if you wanted to be a future hero, violent actions wouldn’t necessarily vote well for you. So would you just have to take your beating and move on? ‘We’ll teach you to mess with us,’ you could feel that hand tighten in your hair before they stepped back.

What followed was you catching the scent of something burning and you were quick to realize it was their quirk. That's when fear overpowered your anger especially as you watched those flames in the palm of their hand grow bigger.

You squeezed your eyes shut, just waiting for the burning impact of that fire. But, it never came. Instead, you felt the grip on your arm loosen. “Huh?” you slowly cracked your eyes open and noticed the bully with the flame quirk was now backing away with their hands up. Almost as if they were scared or surrendering.

Then you turned to look at the bully who was loosely holding your arm. They looked shocked, their eyes wide and their jaw hanging open. You almost wanted to ask if they were okay when you noticed their skin and hair turning brown. Then cracks began to appear across the length of their body.

A gasp came when you then watched them turn gray and crumble to dust. Their pressure on your arm now vanished and you watched as that dust brushed over your arm and mixed with the dirt on the ground below.

You pulled your hand back, cradling it to your chest. “W-What just happened?” you muttered in disbelief, your eyes focused on that dust pile before you noticed a shadow. Swallowing, you slowly raised your head and saw the one known as 'Shigaraki' standing before you.

His hand was outstretched and you took a step back. ‘I’m getting out of here! You’re a freak man!’ your attention was now turned to the second bully who wasted no time in running in the direction they came from.

You were holding your breath as you watched them squeeze back through one of the broken sections of the fence. The echo of their steps sounded as they ran down the sidewalk and you finally let out a sigh before looking back at Shigaraki.

“Um…” you weren’t sure what to say, but he did technically save you even though you weren’t entirely sure how he did so in the first place. A gentle breeze came to carry the pile of dust away and you took a step forward.

“What was...that?" the question lingered in the air without an answer before you reached up to rub the back of your head. "T-Thanks for...saving me, I guess?” more silence filled the air and for a moment you wondered if Shigaraki could even talk, he didn’t say anything when you bumped into him and he wasn’t saying anything now.

“M-My name is…Y/n, what’s yours?” you only knew part of his name so far, but it didn’t seem like he was willing to speak to you. He only tilted his head to the side. Did he understand what you were saying, or was he observing you again?

“Uh…” you glanced to the side, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. What else could you say? You glanced down at his hands, once again reminded of how slender his fingers were and without thinking, you reached over.

Gently grasping his hand, you turned it slightly in your palm. But when you felt him tense up, you blinked and looked up. “Hm?” you were surprised that you had gotten that kind of reaction from him. “Are you...does this make you uncomfortable?” you questioned and watched as he slowly shook his head, then you heard his voice.

It was soft but scratchy, barely audible. Yet somehow you managed to understand him. “Why…” he began, making you grow more concerned as he began to tremble. “Why...are you touching me?!” the question was hissed out and you immediately dropped his hand. “S-Sorry!” you exclaimed as you held your hands up.

“I was only-” your words came to a stop when a shadowy figure appeared behind Shigaraki, while you weren’t sure what or who it was. You felt an intense wave of fear wash over you and tried to fight the feeling of your stomach twisting into knots.

More than likely that was your gut feeling telling you to run far away despite the fact of not knowing what you were seeing, but then the shadow spoke. “Tomura…” it said and you recognized the voice as belonging to a male, but his tone was deep and held a certain amount of authority to it that you knew shouldn’t be crossed.

So you remained quiet and latched onto your lip. But your eyes never left the shadowed man. But the sound of Tomura’s voice was distracting and caused you to turn your attention towards him and maybe you were too young to understand why he called the man, “Master.”

But either way, you felt small at that moment and brought your hands up to your chest. You watched as the man Tomura called 'master' reached down to laid his rather large hand against the top of his head.

“You did well,” the man said before his eerie laughter filled the air, making you take a step back. But you ended up stumbling over your feet and yet again found yourself falling to the ground. A soft hiss escaped you as you tried to push yourself back up, missing how the man frowned.

Then he slowly approached you, kneeling down to offer a friendly hand to you. “Y/n,” the way he spoke your name sent a chill down your spine and you immediately froze, no longer caring about that outstretched hand.

“It’s quite a pleasure to meet the child of one of the local heroes here, though I do hope they watch their backs.” the threat seemed to go over your head. But you still sensed there was more to his words and glanced at Tomura who for the moment seemed frozen in place.

Was this his father, his caretaker maybe? How could someone stand to be near someone so...scary? Maybe you’d never fully understand it, but you found yourself crawling away from the man. Effectively distancing yourself from him.

Luckily he seemed to take the hint and slowly rose back to his feet. “Pity,” was the only word he spoke before turning to Tomura. “Come,” he said, almost as if the young boy was a dog. But the single command was all it took for him to move.

You paused and watched from your position on the ground as the two of them made their way to the closest building. The door gave an eerie squeak as it opened and as the man walked inside, you caught a glimpse of what he looked like.

Though you couldn’t make out his face or hair. You could see he looked just like a regular man and he was wearing a black suit and tie. Then your eyes shifted to Tomura who wasted no time in stepping through the doorway. However, he stopped and turned around to look at you, or at least you assume he was.

You weren't entirely sure at first but that burning sensation that began to overwhelm you was the only confirmation you needed to know you were correct and you couldn't help but feel a tad uncomfortable the longer those eyes were on you.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and glanced away as if that would shake the feeling of being some type of prey. Part of you wondered if he was as bad as his ‘master.’ You weren't sure if you wanted to find out and yet, you found yourself wondering if you’d ever see him again.

After a few more moments, he finally turned and closed the door behind him. Leaving you in the empty courtyard covered in dirt and scratches. You slowly turned to look at the fence, the images of what occurred just moments earlier fresh in your mind.

But at least you now knew the weird kid everyone spoke about and a few weeks later, you found the courage to return to that very same courtyard. The fence was still broken but at least it made it easier to climb through.

You keep your hands close to your chest as you ventured further into the area, pausing only to look at the buildings around you. One of the buildings, in particular, had a small balcony and you flinched when you saw Tomura standing here.

Unlike the previous time you saw him, those hands were absent from his body. Your eyes widened as you took note of his face, the most outstanding feature of which was his piercing red eyes. You could faintly make out the wrinkled skin that surrounded those eyes and his lips which also had scarring.

His hands were curled around the metal railing of the balcony, but only three out of five of his fingers were touching it. But those eyes continued to stare at you as the silence kept growing. A gentle breeze came and you watched his unruly black hair carry with it.

Your throat tightened as you tried to think of what you could possibly say to him. “Uh...” you brought your hands up, tapping your index fingers together. “H-Hi?” you almost hated how you stuttered, but your greeting was only returned with an angry expression.

'Oh...' you thought before nervously glancing back and forth. He wasn't responding, what else could you do? You swallowed and took another step forward. "Do...you remember me?" you asked, watching as Tomura tilted his head. "I was here before…" you continued.

"You saved me from those bullies?" he had to remember. Yet again silence filled the air. "I saw your...master?" Maybe if you talked about him, Tomura would feel obligated to start or continue the conversation?

"Is he your father? He's pretty scary an-" Tomura tightened his grip on the railing and dangerously leaned over it. "Don't insult my master!" his voice was high and slightly raspy, but even so. It caught you completely off guard and you stood there like a deer in the headlights.

'So his voice really does sound like that,' you thought, not that it was bad. But what happened next completely threw you off guard and made you take a step back, you were tempted to run but something kept you where you were.

The fact that Tomura had wrapped all five of his fingers around the railing was seemingly normal. But to watch that perfectly fine metal grow rusty within a matter of seconds right before your eyes and then crumble to dust wasn’t.

Your hands clamped over your mouth as you watched that dust be carried off by the wind, just like that bully. Your eyes quickly looked back at Tomura who slowly turned and began to walk down the stairs that were attached to the balcony.

You remained where you were, just watching as the boy proceeded to walk over towards you. More silence filled the air before you glanced to the side. “Uh…” you weren’t sure what to say and the fact Tomura was staring at you in such an intense way made you somewhat uneasy.

But even so, you felt the desire to ask him the question that was threatening to burst from you. The rumors may have been true and maybe Tomura wasn’t the most friendly, but he still saved you, and you were hoping for a new friend.

Having someone to protect you wouldn’t hurt either. “Do you want to be my friend!?” you shouted, taking a step closer and invading his space much more than you intended but Tomura didn’t move back. You partly found that strange when you realized just how close you were to him.

Just inches away from his face and yet close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath. “Friend?" Tomura questioned as if the word was foreign to him and you assumed it was. Still, you nodded. “Don’t you want a friend, what do you do um...all by yourself?” you questioned as you shyly took a step away from him.

Feeling a soft flush wash over your cheeks as you placed your hands behind your back. You heard a frustrated growl before Tomura reached up to scratch at his neck which would have been normal if it didn’t seem like he was digging his nails far too deep.

Leaving behind almost bloody lines. “Are you okay?” you questioned as you reached out to take hold of his hands, but he ripped them away from your grip moments later. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed out, making you flinch in the process.

“Sorry!” you said as you raised your hands up, trying to show you meant no harm. He muttered something under his breath, though you couldn’t make out the words. You assumed they were about you. But maybe he was too afraid to touch anything with his hands considering what happened to the railing.

“Are you...afraid of your quirk?” you hadn’t actually intended for the question to slip, but it was too late to take back now. “None of your business!” Tomura hissed and for a moment you wondered if he was going to hurt you because he stepped closer to you with his hands raised up as if he were ready to choke you.

But instead, he paused and lowered them. “Why don’t you just leave, master won’t be happy that you’re here,” you blinked, there he was using the term ‘master’ again. He turned to walk away but you reached out, grabbing hold of his hand.

“I said don’t touch me!” he snapped as he tried to pull his arm back which caused you to tighten your grip, you were not letting go and Tomura seemed surprised at this. His red orbs widened with curiosity before that anger returned.

“Let go!” he demanded as he began to flail his arm up and down, but your grip remained. “Your quirk isn’t hurting me!” you exclaimed and all at once he came to a pause. He narrowed his eyes and you felt a chill go down your spine when he looked at you.

His eyebrows were slit and his jaw was slightly clenched as if he wanted to say something but also wouldn’t allow himself to. But somehow, you found yourself smiling and squeezed his hand. Though you didn’t realize the actual danger you were putting yourself in by touching the hand of someone with an unstable quirk.

Especially having witnessed how it worked on top of that. But, Tomura seemed to take that reassuring squeeze well and glanced at your conjoined hands. “You’re just like…” his words came to a pause and he looked back at you before pulling his hand out of your grip.

“You really wanna be friends with me!?” he snapped and though you were a little saddened by the fact he pulled away, you nodded. Tomura clenched his jaw and his hands curled into fists. “Why would I want to be friends with anyone!?” he snapped as he stomped his foot against the ground causing you to flinch back.

“Uh...b-because…” you frantically tried to think of an answer. “W-We can do it in secret!” you blurted out and though you were unsure as to why those seemingly random words left your mouth, you hoped Tomura would agree to it.

After all, if he was so worried about being friends with anyone, a secret friendship could work out. “Secret? What do you mean secret!?” he questioned and you watched as his fingers twitched slightly.

Part of you wondered if his quirk brought him any pain, but you didn’t want to push your luck by asking another seemingly personal question. “Well…” you began as you brought your hands up and once more shyly pressed the tips of your fingers together.

“Maybe...we could meet every other day, somewhere you want and...play?” you suggested, though your words came off as more clueless than anything, and that caused Tomura to raise his eyebrow. “Are you guessing...what’s the point of guessing!?” you flinched and shook your head.

“I wasn’t guessing!” you stated in your defense. “I was...suggesting," you were unsure of how he’d react to your words or what actions set him off. Maybe too many words confused him or maybe when someone was unclear of their intentions towards him?

“Mm…” Tomura groaned and once again reached up to begin scratching his neck, you could see the red lines that were created just a few moments ago but you weren’t sure if you wished to stop him this time.

Instead, you allowed him to do as he wanted even if the urge to grab his wrists and pull them away was strong. “Fine!” he suddenly snapped before he lowered his hands, allowing them to smack against his thighs. Then he pointed to the ground.

“Meet here...tomorrow at 8 PM, you got that!?” it sounded more like an order than a friendly agreement and yet you found yourself nodding. “Okay,” you replied before Tomura turned and began to walk away. “Huh, wait! Where are you going?” you questioned.

Yet Tomura continued to walk away. “Master will be angry if I’m late for training, don’t forget our meeting,” why he felt the need to remind you yet again that you were supposed to meet him was strange. But you didn’t question it, rather you watched him disappear back into the building he had come from before you turned to leave.

Somehow you recognized how he was feeling, your parents at times subjected you to training and you always felt bad when you fell short of what they expected. Part of you wondered what they would think of your new friendship with Tomura.

But then again you did say it would be a secret friendship and as promised that’s exactly what it was. Despite it being difficult at times to sneak out of your house to meet Tomura who always seemed to prefer seeing you at night.

But it was nice to know you had someone to talk to and someone you could call your friend. Even if the two of you shared a dark secret that came back to haunt you just a few weeks into your friendship. Though Tomura had gotten used to you and your touch and the way you would cradle his hand.

He even let you guide him around and you were relieved at how well your friendship was blossoming. But since news of a missing child spread, the very same child that you watched Tomura turn to dust. A curfew was set for all children in the surrounding area.

If any children were caught roaming the streets after dark, they were to be escorted back home by a member of the police force. Yet for a while, you had managed to avoid such a thing happening. “Tomura...what if they find out!?” The question came one night after you two had almost been caught for the third time.

You knew your luck was eventually going to run out and if that happened. You could only imagine how disappointed your parents would feel. “The heroes can’t do anything…” he replied and at that moment you had believed him.

Considering you knew they could never actually find the missing child, the missing bully who was so cruel to you. But as you previously suspected, your luck ran out the day Tomura and yourself had agreed to meet at the nearby docks sometime after midnight.

The police seemed to be anticipating your arrival or maybe they were simply stationed there for another reason entirely. Either way, this is the very thing that ended your friendship with Tomura. When your parents found out about it, they blamed Tomura for the fact you willingly disobeyed them and broke curfew.

This prompted them to take drastic action and relocate from the seemingly dangerous town you had lived in your whole life. Luckily they never suspected you of having been a witness to what happened to that missing child.

But without so much as a goodbye, you were taken away from the only home you had ever known and the only true friend you ever had. It should go without saying that your parents expected you to follow the path of a hero.

While you weren’t opposed to doing so, you always seemed to stop yourself from reaching your full potential whenever you thought back to the first night you met Tomura. Could you honestly call yourself a hero if you had allowed someone to get murdered?

Despite the fact you were indeed getting bullied by them, still you somehow managed to graduate and become a semi-known hero. Though underground work was your specialty. The most recent of your accomplishments had caught the attention of the news.

Which was your single-handed capturing and arrest of a small group of individuals belonging to something called the Paranormal Liberation Front. “Hm, it’s nice to know what shit they put on TV these days,” Dabi grumbled as he tilted his head back and downed the last remaining bit of beer from his can.

The television displayed the short interview taken with you after the arrest was made and the reporter was asking you a few questions. “How’d they end up capturing all of them!? I bet they had help!” Himiko accused as she pointed at the television with an angry scowl across her face before she turned to Tomura.

“Right Shigaraki!?” she questioned, but it appeared the man was too focused on the television to answer. His eyes were wide as if he was surprised by what he was seeing, but such emotion was very rare coming from a man of Tomura’s stature.

“Huh?” Himiko blinked and watched as Tomura rose to his feet and walked up to the television. Dabi cocked his head to the side, taking note of Tomura’s strange behavior as well. “What’s the matter with ya?” he questioned in a snarky manner before waving his arm.

“You’re blocking the TV, move, why dontcha!?” he snapped, and while Tomura normally didn’t let any type of disrespect go without proper punishment. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stood there watching the digital image of you continue to talk.

‘Tell us Y/n what first inspired you to become a hero?’ the reporter held the microphone up to your mouth. Tomura continued to watch, feeling a strange sense of recognition as he looked at you. ‘Well...’ your voice echoed from the speakers of the television.

‘When I was a kid, I used to get bullied a lot. Then one day I squeezed through a broken fence while the bullies were still chasing me,’ the gears inside his mind continued to turn. Then a memory from when he was small began to surface.

‘I ended up running into another kid who lived in the neighborhood and in a way he was bullied too,’ Tomura tilted his head up, his eyes narrowing as he looked to the ceiling. “Bullied…” he repeated the word as his bangs slowly fell to caress the sides of his face.

His memory as of late seemed to be unlocked. Bringing back numerous long-forgotten moments from his early childhood and while he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to remember them. He raised his hands, his fingers straining as they curled inward.

“That’s right...they used to call me, heh, a freak…” a chuckle left his mouth as he kept his head tilted back, but he continued to listen. ‘But he saved me from those bullies and I haven’t forgotten that,’ you folded your hands in front of you and turned your attention to the ground.

Tomura missed the way you frowned before looking back at the camera. But he caught the sad undertone within the next words you spoke. ‘I never properly thanked him, but my family moved to another part of Japan and I never saw him again. But I think of him every day,’ you finished.

The sound of the reporter's laughter echoed before they proceeded to wrap the story up. “What the hell is wrong with ya?” Dabi’s voice came and it was clear he was slightly annoyed by Tomura’s antics, Himiko on the other hand seemed rather accepting.

“Ohhhh, do you know that hero Shigaraki!?” she questioned excitedly as she hopped to her feet and proceeded to bounce up and down. Tomura blinked and slowly lowered his head, then pointed at the television. Your image still remained on the screen as you waved goodbye to the viewers.

“Y/n…” he spoke your hero name as it was displayed on the bottom of the screen, catching the attention of both Himiko and Dabi. “Is our next target,” he declared before he turned to Dabi. “Figure out where that hero will be next,” he instructed, in turn causing Dabi to scoff.

“Why do I always get stuck with the lame work?” he questioned, but nonetheless would comply with Tomura’s wishes. Though you took your job as a hero seriously, that doesn't mean you didn't set time aside for yourself.

Though it was a little troublesome when you received attention as most people recognized you out of your hero costume. But that was alright. It had still been a pleasant day at the mall and you let out a sigh of relief as you placed your bags onto the floor and took a seat on the edge of the fountain.

The sound of the running water seemed to put you at ease as you glanced around and listened to the chatter as it filled the air. It was nice to see how busy the mall could get and how happy everyone seemed to be while in one another's company.

"Do you make that a habit?" came a high raspy voice that almost sounded familiar. “Huh?” you turned to look at the person that spoke. It was a man dressed in red shoes, dark pants, and a black hood that concealed his face.

But you could still make out the strands of silver wavy hair that hung down to frame the sides of that pale face and you noticed how severely chapped and scarred his lips were. However, you decided to keep such a comment to yourself and addressed his question.

“Make what into a habit?” more confusion washed over you as the man chuckled and proceeded to take the seat next to you. Though considering this was a public place, you couldn’t exactly tell him not to sit next to you.

But you still felt some unease and yet something seemed familiar about this man. But you assumed it was only due to the fact that he probably reminded you of someone you saw in one of the many crowds that often occurred after you finished saving the day.

You glanced at the man a moment more before looking ahead of you, mistakenly leaving yourself vulnerable. As soon as you felt three fingers grasp the back of your neck, an involuntary gasp escaped you. However, before you could turn your head, the man gave you a simple instruction.

“Keep looking forward,” he stated as his grip grew tighter and you could feel how his nails began to dig into your skin. “You know this reminds me of about a year or so ago when I was sitting here with one of those Yuuei brats…” the word left his mouth in a growl and you felt your heart begin to accelerate.

You had felt fear before. In fact, it was a normal part of your everyday hero work. Knowing that whenever you went on a mission or faced a dangerous villain, there was a possibility that you wouldn’t come back alive. But even so, you didn’t want to die here.

Not in public and not in front of all of these people. Your jaw clenched and you slowly glanced at him from the corner of your eye, catching a brief glimpse of a smile. 'Is he happy to be doing this!?' you frantically thought.

“Hopefully, you’re a little more cooperative than him. Now tell me something, hero…” you noticed how his voice softened, that previous anger from his memory of a Yuuei student gone for the moment. But you still debated about answering him.

“...What?” you replied, continuing to feel the pressure of those nails creating indents to the back of your neck. “Do you remember me?” he questioned and your body slightly jolted as you once more looked at him.

His hood was pulled back some and you could finally see his eyes which were colored red and had a severe amount of dried skin surrounding them. ‘Why is he asking if I remember him?' you thought, you certainly didn't recall meeting him before.

Then again, 'The...boy I met when I was small had red eyes too, but dark hair. Don't tell me...no, I refuse to believe that!’ Tomura must have sensed your realization. Even if you choose to deny it as many heroes in your position would. But that was just the nature of heroes, wasn’t it?

His fingers squeezed your neck, heroes never wanted to face the real problem until it was too late and yet they still got people gawking over them. “You already know what my quirk can do, don’t you?” your body stiffened as the image of that metal bar crumbling to dust came to mind.

“So I wouldn’t suggest trying to run now,” he leaned over, wanting to catch a glimpse of your terrified face, and boy, you didn’t disappoint. Your eyebrows were knit together, creating crease lines across your forehead and your eyes were full of confusion and fear.

Feeling rather satisfied with himself he leaned back with a content sigh, there was something so riveting knowing when you backed a hero into a corner with no escape. He brought his leg up, resting it across his opposite knee and you watched as he lightly swayed his foot almost as if he were listening to a catchy song.

“You know, I wasn’t sure at first,” you wanted to turn to look at him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move at the moment. Not with the continued pressure of those fingers on your neck, not knowing what he could do to you when all five fingers made contact with your skin.

“Why that image of you on television seemed so...familiar,” you could hear his voice heighten in pitch and he tilted his head towards the ceiling as another laugh escaped him. “That is until one of my lackeys dug up some information on you,” your eyes widened.

‘Lackeys?’ you thought. “Oh, I bet you didn’t even realize you had someone stalking you,” a twisted smirk appeared across his face as he leaned close to your ear and a shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath. “Watching your every move,” God...were you really that blind or unaware?

He could have had this ‘lackey’ attack you or worse the people around you. “Oh and before you ask, yes...I know where you live,” that alone made your stomach drop, at any moment the ‘lackey’ or Tomura himself could have broken into your home and done God only knows what.

“Well anyways,” Tomura said as he leaned away from you and turned to look at the crowd that continued to chatter amongst themselves, completely unaware of the danger you were in or the potential danger they could be in. Society was stupid or at least in Tomura’s opinion it was.

“Then it hit me,” it was slightly amazing how he could go right back to the story as if he hadn’t told you something that could mentally scar you for life. “You’re that brat from my childhood.” Despite the word ‘brat’ coming out with yet another growl, he chuckled a few seconds later.

“The one who witnessed me kill that other kid, heh. Bet you never told anyone about that, huh? Guess even heroes can hold dark secrets,” another shiver ran down your spine and your hands tightened around the edge of the fountain.

Your vision blurred and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you as your thoughts multiplied. For years you had been keeping that fact a secret and for one good reason. If you revealed what you allowed to happen as a young child, that you were a witness, an accessory to murder.

Your hero career as you knew it would be over, it wouldn’t matter to anyone that the incident occurred when you were only a child. Everyone would just ask why you didn't do anything, why you didn’t try to save someone from certain harm or death.

Did Tomura know that as well? The sound of his laughter seemed to bring you back out of your thoughts and you flinched when you noticed what he was doing. He was bent over, his hand still grasping the back of your neck, and a wicked smirk was on his face.

“Oh, you look horrified. Isn’t that funny? A hero who's afraid of a little murder, pff,” his smirk was quickly replaced with a present frown and an unamused expression played across his features. “Isn’t that what you’re good at?” his voice carried a certain tone to it, almost as if what he was stating was a known fact.

Maybe he was right in a sense, not all heroes were good. But they certainly weren’t murderers. Your nails dug into the concrete foundation of the fountain and you opened your mouth to speak. That is until you felt him press a fourth finger against your neck and you immediately froze.

“Oh? Were you about to say something?” he mocked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my quirk now,” once more your eyebrows came down and you weren’t sure what he was talking about. You did recall trying to hold his hand as a child, but once more you were in doubt that this is the monster that little boy grew up to be.

“Why don’t we take a little walk?” he suggested as he stood up and a cry left your lips as he proceeded to yank you up by the neck. You reached up, wrapping your fingers around his arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned as he looked down at you.

His red eyes now holding a dark appearance to them and that unamused expression was back on his face. “You try and pull my hand away and I’ll either disintegrate you or let go and you can watch me murder these innocent mall-goers,” well that made your choice clear.

Though you were angry and felt utterly defeated for having so carelessly found yourself in this situation. Maybe it was clear why you were in the lower ranks. “...fine,” you replied as you released your grip on his arm and yet again heard him chuckle.

“Wise choice, hero,” he stated before he began to drag you through the crowd. “Play nice and I’ll keep my word,” you weren’t even sure where he was guiding you. But part of you suspected he’d just take you to an empty field where he’d finish you off.

Instead, you found yourself being guided through the equally busy streets of Japan with nothing but the sound of silence between yourself and Tomura. That is until you finally came to a stop. “Hm…” it wasn’t hard to figure out you had stopped in front of some type of large business building.

“Detnerat Company?” you read the sign out loud, though it didn’t sound at all familiar to you. “Mhm,” Tomura responded with a nod, he had lowered his hood some time ago. Revealing his shoulder-length hair and some bandages that you assumed he got from some type of fight he was in.

But unlike when you were a child, you prevented yourself from asking about the origin of the bandages. Instead, you simply began to walk inside the building. Even with Tomura’s hand still grasping the back of your neck, everyone seemed to act as though everything was fine.

They greeted or bowed respectfully when Tomura came into view and for a moment, you didn’t want to believe he owned some type of business. But that seemed to be the only explanation as you two entered an elevator and you watched Tomura press the button to the executive floor.

Your hands curled into the front of your shirt as you felt the elevator begin to move, giving a soft ding with every floor it passed. You were slightly worried about what the top floor held and debated about the possibility of you getting ambushed.

Your neck pulsed and part of you wondered if Tomura’s hand was getting cramped from having kept his hold on you for the last hour or so. You slowly glanced at him and he still looked unamused with that present frown on his lips.

You stumbled some when the elevator finally came to a stop and hissed softly as Tomura just yanked you back towards him. You wanted to take your chances, reach up and attempt to yank his hand off your neck but when the elevator doors finally opened.

You found yourself being thrown forward. “Ah!” you stumbled over your own feet with your arms outstretched to attempt to cushion your fall. Your knees hit the floor first, followed by your hands that pulsed from the impact of trying to catch yourself.

Your hair was hanging in your face and you could hear Tomura step off the elevator which then closed. You remained on the floor, trying to gather if anyone else was present in the room. But you were only greeted with the sound and vision of Tomura walking past you.

“Get up already hero,” he stated as he walked over to the large set of windows that made up one of the walls of the room. Allowing him a view of the cityscape. You lifted your head, looking confused as you watched Tomura’s reflection in the glass.

It was a little unnerving to see those red pupils slowly move to look at you and more than likely from Tomura’s position, he could also see your reflection. “I said get up,” he repeated, the words coming out with a hiss and it was clear to you he was getting impatient.

You swallowed down your fear, why did he bring you all the way to the top floor only to release his hold on you? Maybe because there was only one logical way of escaping, you turned to look at the elevator from over your shoulder.

You also doubted your chances of actually trying to jump out of the window considering how high up you were. Maybe Tomura had already figured out he could effectively trap you in this room? Still, it would be dangerous to anger him and part of you still refused to come to terms with the fact this was the same boy you met all those years ago.

But somehow as you rose to your feet, you couldn’t help but picture that same little boy who stood on a balcony looking down at you. That same feeling of being small washed over you, Tomura was still looking down at you.

But as a hero, you were more than accustomed to playing the part you were assigned. Acting as though nothing could actually bring you down and it was those ‘acting’ skills that made you straighten out your posture which seemed to catch Tomura’s attention as he turned around to face you.

His eyes tracing you from head to toe as if trying to detect more weaknesses. You narrowed your eyes, trying to force yourself to be unshaken by the man. Funny, you never felt this way as a child. In fact, Tomura was the one person you enjoyed spending time with, regardless of your strange friendship.

The more peaceful moments of your childhood were spent conversing with Tomura in private with the darkness of the night covering you. Where no one could touch or bother you, much like now. “Huh?” you found your defensive stance fading when Tomura held his hand out to you.

No words exchanged, just his fingers flexing slightly as if motioning for you to take hold just like you did all those years ago. You latched onto your bottom lip and glanced up at Tomura, feeling a shiver course down your spine as you noticed his stare hadn’t averted from you.

“Take my hand!” he suddenly snapped which caused you to stumble back. His voice seemed to echo in the empty room and you could hear the glass bottles that lined the shelf on one side of the room rattle. “What?” the word involuntarily left your mouth, and in response, you could hear Tomura’s teeth scraping together.

Oh right...don’t want to anger him. You held your breath and with some uncertainty placed your hand in his, though you noticed how cold his hand was and the rough texture of his skin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid when all five of his fingers closed around the top of your hand.

But you didn’t have much time to think as you were forcefully pulled forward. You ended up smacking your chin into Tomura’s shoulder and your free hand pressed against his chest. You clenched your jaw, trying to prevent yourself from hissing as you felt Tomura’s grip tighten painfully around your hand.

His nails began to dig into the thin layer of skin that made up the top of your hand. If that wasn't any indication he was feeling angry, the three fingers that came to grasp your jaw were. A cry left your mouth as your head was painfully tilted up and you were forced to watch as Tomura leaned down to your height.

You could feel the dry strands that made up his hair caress your cheeks as he pressed his forehead against yours, making sure you couldn’t look away from him. A strange feeling came over you when you realized Tomura was enjoying inflicting this type of pain on you.

He knew his actions would cause both a painful and shy reaction in you. Despite the fact he was hurting you, the way your heart accelerated when he leaned close, made an affectionate gesture towards you was undeniable. Was there something wrong with you?

Another twisted smile came to Tomura’s face just before he spoke. “You’re just like her,” he stated as if you were supposed to know who he was speaking of. A soft hiss escaped you and your knees bent when that grip of his continued to tighten around your hand.

You could feel your bones creak and you wondered if he was planning on breaking them. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “What...what are you talking about?” you spoke from behind your clenched teeth, now feeling a sense of anger fill you as you glared at Tomura.

But he only seemed to be amused by this and leaned away from you, and in doing so, released his hold on your jaw. But you could feel the indents he made with his nails which pulsed softly, then that smile of his faded.

“I hate her,” he stated before he yanked your hand over his shoulder causing your chest to press against his in the process. One of your legs was raised, pressing against Tomura’s hip while the foot of your opposite leg just barely pressed against the floor.

Then he leaned down, though unlike before he didn’t feel the need to press his forehead against yours. Rather, he seemed too absorbed in his anger. “And I hate you,” he growled before violently shoving you away, and once more you found yourself stumbling before falling to the floor.

Your hand was now aching and you clasped it in your opposite palm, trying to rub it to ease the pain and discomfort that was currently pulsing through your bones. Jeez, just how hard did he squeeze it? Naturally, your fear was still present.

But your anger almost overpowered it as you glared at Tomura from your position on the floor and watched as he began to circle around you. It was almost impossible to follow his emotional pattern, he flipped between anger and happiness so quickly.

From sanity to insanity in the blink of an eye. Just what happened during those years you were away from each other? Had his father or ‘master’ as Tomura called him, damaged him this much? “You call yourself a hero in this twisted society, you enjoy that title. Don’t you?” he continued to walk around you, eyeing you like prey.

“But you’re no hero, are you?” Where was that question coming from? You continued to rub your sore hand, refusing to answer him. “I'm sure you’d never admit that because the truth is...if the rest of those ‘heroes’ found out what you did, what you allowed happen," he paused in front of you.

"You’d be considered the enemy, they’d turn on you so fast, wouldn’t they? A so-called member of their own kind,” he loomed over you, waiting for your response. A soft growl rumbled in your throat and you lowered your hands before cautiously standing on your feet.

“What are you talking about?” you hissed before pointing your finger at him. “What happened to you!? You weren’t like this when we were…” on second thought, was that even a valid argument? No one was like they were as a child, but a large part of you.

Maybe the hero inside of you wanted to know what Tomura had been through and if there was any way you could possibly save him. Some heroes still believed in ‘It’s never too late’ and sadly you were one of them. But in Tomura’s case, it might be a tricky and slippery slope.

“Heh,” he took a step towards you. “Isn’t it better to allow people to have the memory of you being a hero rather than learn just how heartless you are,” he questioned. “After all,” he tilted his head back and that smile on his face grew larger, almost psychotic.

“You are an accessory to murder,” yet another cry came when you found yourself suddenly being pulled forward thanks to Tomura’s fingers which were currently curled into the collar of your shirt. Your hands immediately reached up, grasping Tomura’s wrist.

But unlike you, the pressure of nails digging into flesh didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he continued speaking. “And what would people think of that, hm? Knowing the hero they look up to is nothing but a villain in disguise” you felt your throat go dry and your heart sunk in your chest.

Your face twisted in disbelief, your eyebrows were raised and your jaw hung open. Was this what checkmate felt like? You couldn’t deny he was right, your image would be ruined if word spread that you not only witnessed the murder of a child when you were small, but that you allowed it to happen.

That you indeed were an accessory to it. Your hero career would be tainted and yet, “Is that all you wanted to say to me?!” you snapped before taking a step back. Successfully yanking Tomura’s hand away from your shirt.

“That you’re only trying to blackmail me!?” Though not a terrible plan, it didn’t exactly seem like the evilest thing one could come up with, and yet it was effective enough to put your hero career on the line. “What do you want!?” you slapped your hands against your thighs, looking at Tomura with an expression between confused and angry.

“Hmph,” he glanced to the side, his lips now perched to one side. “You’re just like her,” he commented, repeating an earlier statement of his that seemed to confuse you all the more. “What…who are you talking about!?” you demanded but kept your distance from Tomura as he raised his hand and seemed dazed as he stared at his palm.

“Hana...always held my hand,” your head cocked to the side. “Hana?” you repeated, assuming she was another friend or perhaps someone from Tomura’s past that held some special type of significance to him. “...my sister,” he whispered as he lifted his head up and looked at you.

Once again he seemed to shift into some type of calm sanity. “She was never afraid to hold my hand either,” he stated before his eyes darkened, and that distant look was present in them once more. You take a step back, but Tomura only countered this move by continuing to walk forward.

Despite your commands of, “Stop!” he continued to force you into a corner. His hands slammed against the wall, one on each side of your head. “But she left,” he stated and somehow something finally seemed to click.

When you met Tomura, he was living with his ‘father’ and seemingly was an only child. Had his sister died, what about the rest of his family? Was that why he addressed his ‘father’ as ‘master’ because he wasn’t actually blood-related to the man?

So many questions filled your head, but none of them could actually escape due to the next set of words that left Tomura’s mouth. “But you won’t,” somehow you knew that wasn’t a threat, nor a command. It was a fact.

“After all,” he began, his voice sounding more chipper as he leaned away from you. “Isn’t that what old friends are for!? To keep secrets!?” he questioned as he turned to walk away from you with his hands folded behind his back.

“Of course, I’m sure hero society will be shocked when they find out you’re missing. But what’s one less hero anyway?” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the array of glass bottles that were previously rattling due to the volume of his voice.

You remained against the wall and watched him pull out two glasses. “Kurogiri isn't here, so I suppose I’ll have to make the drinks myself,” he muttered and though you weren’t sure who ‘Kurogiri’ was, you assumed it was another member that made up Tomura’s group.

Still, you heard the soft ‘clinks’ of ice hit the glass before the sound of liquid followed. You slowly eased off the wall and watched as Tomura glanced over his shoulder at you, seemingly unbothered by the way you continued to stare at him.

“How about a toast to the now-former hero?” you knew by his tone that he was mocking you. But still, he turned around and raised a glass in the air. The ice swirled around the brown-tinted alcohol and you didn’t miss that smile of satisfaction that came to Tomura’s chapped lips.

“You’re going to stay here forever,” he commented just before he tilted his head back and proceeded to down the drink. Somehow, you knew he might be correct. But even so, you would figure out a way to save him and bring out that boy you used to know.

#tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader

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melzula · 4 years ago

Text

The Promise

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: this was requested by an anon and yes, it’s based off of the comics

summary: with tensions rising in Yu Dao, Aang seeks the Princess’s help in an effort to sway Zuko in the right direction

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Aang’s heart is heavy with dread as he approaches the Southern Water Tribe for the first time since having left it nearly two years ago. Half constructed buildings peer out from the clouds, and as Appa nears closer to land the Avatar can see the statue of the south’s beloved leader. Her permanently etched smile does little to ease his nerves as he mulls over how he’s going to deliver the news to her, and though he hates to break his promise to Zuko he has found lately that some promises aren’t meant to be kept.

The moment the flying bison lands in the snow all the school children are quick to rush forward and excitedly crowd around the animal and the Avatar. In the distance you stand, a delighted smile on your face at the sight of your friend whom you immediately pull into a hug.

“Aang! It’s so good to see you again,” you exclaim before pulling out of the embrace. “Did you get taller?”

“I think so,” he chuckles sheepishly. “It’s nice to see you too, Princess. Or should I say Chief?”

“Please, Chief is only for formal occasions. You can still call me Princess if you’d like, just y/n will do too.”

“I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you,” Aang admits earnestly. “I wish I could have helped.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Aang. It was my decision to keep Koa a secret so that I wouldn’t pull you and Zuko away from your obligations. And everything turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”

“I suppose it did, and I’m glad you’re alright. The South seems to be doing pretty well,” he notes with a faint smile, enjoying the way your eyes seem to light up at the mention of your home.

“We’ve already accomplished so much in just a short amount of time! The outer tribes are beginning to grow in number and our people have been mingling with those from our sister tribe. Oh, Aang, you have to meet my students! They’ve only been practicing for a few months but some of them have already passed the beginning level and-”

“That all sounds amazing, y/n,” the Avatar admits with a weak smile. However, his strong front doesn’t fool you in the slightest, and you immediately are able to detect that something is wrong, “but I didn’t come here for a friendly visit. There’s... There’s something we need to talk about. It’s about Zuko.”

He doesn’t miss the look that flashes briefly in your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, and though he can tell how anxious you are Aang admires your ability to remain poised and collected in front of your students.

“Let’s talk in my office,” you utter quietly, and after dismissing the children for the day you and Aang are quick to head inside for a private discussion about the matters at hand.

“I’m so sorry to have to barge in on you like this when you already have so much on your plate but I didn’t have a choice,” Aang explains gently.

“What’s going on Aang?” You ask uneasily, and the worried look on your face doesn’t make things any easier for him. After all you’ve done for him and your friends, he doesn’t have the heart to break yours.

“The night the Harmony Restoration Movement was announced I made two promises to Zuko. I promised him that if things began to get out of hand and history began to repeat itself, I would end his life before he could have the chance to become like his father. The world needs peace and balance, and we can’t have anyone jeopardizing that. You know I’m just a peaceful monk, I couldn’t even kill Ozai, but Zuko is my friend and it meant so much to him that I had no choice but to agree.”

“And the second promise?” You murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the information given to you. Horror and panic flash across your features and you feel nauseous, you feel as if you can’t breathe and the walls are closing in all around you, and a newfound sense of desperation washes over you.

“The second promise was not to tell you. Zuko knew that if you found out you’d delay your return home to try and talk him out of it, and his mind had already been up. He didn’t want to worry you-”

“Why are you telling me this now, Aang? What’s changed?” You interrupt, though you fear you already know the answer. The Avatar refuses to meet your gaze.

“Zuko has withdrawn from the Harmony Restoration Movement and refuses to compromise. If things don’t work themselves out soon I might have to fulfill my promise...”

The room is heavy with tension and deathly silent as you process the news Aang has given you. It doesn’t sound like Zuko at all, and this promise doesn’t sound like Aang either.

“Aang, you’re my friend and I love you. But if you choose to fulfill this promise of yours I’ll never be able to forgive you.”

“Trust me, y/n, I don’t want it to come to that. That’s why I’m here,” he says earnestly. “I’m telling you all of this because I want you to talk to Zuko. You’re the only person he’ll listen to, so maybe you can get through to him and this whole mess can be resolved.”

“Where is Zuko now?”

“The last I heard he’d locked himself away in the palace back at the Fire Nation.”

“Spirits, so much for an honest relationship,” you grumble quietly to yourself. A small, defeated sigh escapes you and you nod. “Alright. Let me get my affairs in order and then I’ll go talk to Zuko.”

“Thank you so much, Princess. I know how hard all of this must be for you, and I wish there was another way but-”

“It isn’t your fault, Aang. At least not entirely. You only did what Zuko asked you to in respect of your friendship, and now in respect of our friendship I ask that you allow me to sway him in the right direction before any decisions are made.”

“Yes, of course,” he nods earnestly, and sensing that you need a moment to yourself, the Avatar excuses himself. “I’ll go make sure Appa is ready for the trip. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding leaves you the moment the door shuts behind Aang, and it takes all of your will power to keep your rising tears at bay. To think that Zuko had gone to the extreme to reassure himself of the fact that he’d never repeat his family’s footsteps broke your heart; Zuko was nowhere close to being the cruel man Ozai had been, and you thought he was past this by now. You were worried about him and how he must be feeling, but you also felt it to be unfair of him to keep such a thing from you. He had been so distraught when he had learned about Koa and after that you had both sworn to tell each other everything no matter what, yet now it seemed Zuko had no intention of keeping that promise to you. Promise. It seemed like such a heavily loaded word now, and you were beginning to resent it entirely. You couldn’t wait another minute, you had to see Zuko.

It takes you no longer than an hour to get your affairs in order— Hakoda and your mother are left in charge to oversee the tribe while you’re away, and Pakku is to continue lessons without your presence. You pack your bag and join Aang on Appa’s saddle, and with the quick utterance of the phrase yip yip the two of you are riding high into the skies and making your way towards the Fire Nation.

The wind blowing through your hair is a bittersweet reminder of your days fighting the war alongside your friends; you had once believed that things would be simpler after the Fire Nation’s defeat, but so far nothing had seemed to be any easier than you had hoped it would be. You wished they were here now, you could really use some reassurance from Sokka or Suki, and you know Katara would probably have just the right thing to say to ease your nerves. Instead, the ride is silent and tense as you journey to see Zuko.

In the throne room sits the Fire Lord, tense and distracted by the millions of thoughts that whiz by in his head. He knew he was making the right decision by allowing his people to remain in Yu Dao, he was their ruler and it was his duty to look after their best interests, and backing out from the Harmony Restoration Movement would prevent the disruption of the peaceful lives they’d created for themselves there. Seeing the Mayor’s family, their daughter born of both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom heritage, it allowed him to see his own future, one in which he selfishly realized what the movement would mean not only for his people but for himself.

Your portrait sits in his lap, face poised and stoic yet with a hint of a smile on your face, and it is this portrait that brings him solace and comfort during his time of turmoil. He’d purchased the photo from a vendor back in the South during the celebration of your coronation, and looking at it now he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Everything had become such a mess and all he wanted was your comfort; you were busy rebuilding a tribe, and after Zuko had made such a fuss about maintaining honesty between you two he felt foolish to try and tell you now. Surely you’d leave him for it, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand that heartache. Not again.

A knock on the door rips his attention away from your portrait and an immediate scowl forms on his features. He’d made it specifically clear that he didn’t want any visitors and was to be left undisturbed. Where were the Kyoshi Warriors to keep away the arrivals?

“I will see no one,” Zuko bellows, shoulders tensing when the door slowly begins to open despite his proclamation. However, when his eyes take in the sight of his beloved the Fire Lord does a double take before immediately relaxing at the presence of his Princess.

“Will the Fire Lord make an exception for me?” You ask with a meek smile, carefully shutting the doors behind you

“Y/n!” Zuko exclaims before scrambling out of his seat and rushing towards you. You can’t help the delighted laugh that leaves you when Zuko lifts your figure off the ground and holds you impossibly close to his chest. Tears well in his eyes as he nestles his face into your shoulder and breathes in the scent of fire lilies and snow.

“It’s nice to know you’ve missed me,” you giggle softly, though your smile fades once Zuko sets you back on the ground and you’re able to see his face. Carefully you rest a hand upon his face, Zuko immediately melting into your touch. “My love, you haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“How can you tell?” Zuko asks with quiet surprise.

“I can see the restlessness and turmoil in your eyes. You’re troubled.”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffs quietly. You frown.

“What’s going on with you, Zuko? Aang told me you backed out of the Harmony Restoration Movement.”

“Is that why you’re here?” The Fire Lord replies, a harsh edge suddenly coating his tone. “Just to talk me back into it??”

“I’m here because I’m worried about my boyfriend,” you emphasize, and you don’t miss the look of guilt that flash’s across Zuko’s face for snapping at you. Quieter now, “Aang told me about the promise he made to you. I want to hear your side of the story, and I want to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t go that far.”

Zuko is silent for a moment, and after a beat passes he nods. No more secrets, it’s time to tell you everything.

You end up in the palace gardens by the pond, loaves of bread in your hands as you enjoy the breeze and feed the turtle ducks. The Kyoshi Warriors stand in the distance to guard you both, and Suki gives you a quiet nod when your eyes meet across the way. You wanted to give Zuko a comforting atmosphere where he could feel safe to talk, the tone of the throne room was a bit too intense for the both of you, and after recalling stories he had told you of his mother you figured this was the perfect spot to do so. It takes him time to gather his thoughts and process his emotions, but you wait patiently until he’s ready.

“I want to start by saying that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I knew you’d worry and drop everything to try and talk me out of something I’d already decided, and I didn’t want to take you away from your people, not again,” Zuko explains quietly. “But my family, selfishness and destruction runs in our blood, and I needed to make sure that I’d never make the same mistakes they did.”

“Zuko,” you utter gently, your hand coming to rest upon his bicep, “you are nothing like your father or your grandfather. You’re a good person, you’ve already proven this time and time again. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve also made changes, good changes.”

“I can’t make any more mistakes, y/n. That’s why Aang is there to stop me. But backing out of the Harmony Restoration Movement is not a mistake.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?” You repeat in bewilderment. “I-I don’t understand.”

“I had the chance to visit Yu Dao and see what my people had created, the life they spent generations building for themselves. As Fire Lord it’s my job to make sure my people are happy, and they are happy— coinciding with earth kingdom citizens. You should have seen it, y/n. Best friends, business partners, families made up of two different nations. I know Aang believes there can’t be any harmony unless the four nations are separate, but Yu Dao proves that that’s not true, and so do we.”

“The mayor’s wife of Yu Dao invited me to stay with them, her an earth bender and her husband a fire bender. They had a daughter and together they were a beautiful family. And do you know what I saw when I was with them?”

“What did you see?” You ask quietly, your eyes welling with tears as you hang onto Zuko’s every word.

“I saw us. I saw you cradling a baby in your arms while you sat in the gardens and watched the older children play. It was peaceful, and even though the odds have always been against us it didn’t matter that the mother of our children was of the Water Tribe and the father was of the Fire nation. All that mattered in that moment was our family. A family that can’t exist if we keep the four nations separate,” Zuko emphasizes desperately. “If it’s selfish of me to base my decision on my own desires then I’ll take the hit, but I’d rather die than ever have to be kept away from you simply because we’re different.”

Zuko’s eyes have grown wide and his shoulders rise and fall with each anxious breath he takes as he gauges your reaction. You’re silent for a long while, your own gaze settled upon the pond as you watch the mother turtle duck look after her ducklings. You wanted to be a mother some day, and you’d be lying if you said you could picture yourself being with anyone other than Zuko. He was it for you, the only person you’d ever want to be with, and no one had any right to tell you otherwise.

“Zuko,” you say quietly, lifting your gaze to stare into his golden irises, “you’re absolutely right.”

“I-I am?” He splutters in response, surprised at the fact that he’s truly in the right for once. He’s always relied on you as a moral compass, so to hear that you agree with him is a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

“You are,” you reaffirm. “How can you have peace if everyone is expected to keep to themselves? That’s not harmony at all. It’s isolating and it’s lonely and it’s sad. Those families shouldn’t be separated, and you need to do whatever you can to keep them together.”

“I will,” Zuko nods quickly. “Will you help me?”

“I’m on your side Zuko, but I can’t fight my friends,” you lament gently. “I’ll try to reason with Aang, and if it comes down to it I’ll stop him from fulfilling his promise to you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to remain neutral.”

“I understand,” he murmurs gently. He takes your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for hearing my side and having my back.”

“I always will, Zuko. You’ll never have to worry about that,” you reply, smiling as he pulls you into a tight hug. Despite the conflict going on between your boyfriend and your friends, you have a feeling that everything is going to work itself out. It has to. It must.

And it will.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @simpinforsukka @sirkekselord @protect-remus @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @draqondance @taeeemin @user12345321 @just--artemis--with--ghost @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @neighborhoodpansexualdisaster @noodlesfluffy @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch |

#the promise #zuko #prince zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko imagine #aang #aang x reader #zuko and the princess #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #fire lilies #au

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years ago

Text

Gone

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving 😊 I hope you all have a great and safe day no matter how you are celebrating ♥️

As always thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy

Request: @beardburnsupersoldiers Okay so first I have to say I love love love the way you write Angel! I am so happy I found your blog as fan fiction for him doesn’t seem as easy to find! Also, if you are currently taking requests I was wondering if you could do one with Daddy Angel where reader is being stalked/kidnapped and how he balances getting her back with helping his children through her absence?

Thank you so much for the request! And for your kind words ❤ I'm so happy you found my blog as well! I hope you enjoy and are doing well

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,694

*gif not mine*

Angel sat at your dining room table staring at your empty chair across from him. You should be there. You should be looking back at him with that breathtaking smile of yours as you listened to each of your children tell the two of you about their day over your meal. You'd be engaged with them picking up every detail and at the same time be fully connected to Angel making him feel just as seen even without any words.

You were always good with that, being able to make everyone feel seen and most importantly loved.

You should be here enjoying another dinner with him, with your family like every other night. But no you weren't here and Angel was by himself at your empty table.

How could he have not known? How could you have not said anything? How could he have let this happen? These were the thoughts that kept plaguing his mind.

Today began like every other day. The two of you woke up, late as usual, rushed to get the kids fed and ready for school, finally got everyone out and in the car only to have to go back in for something they forgot before you two finally parted for the day with the promise of seeing each other again later that night. Angel took off for work and you headed the other way with the kids to drop them off at school and go to work yourself.

It was just an average day in your life or so you both thought.

Angel stared down at the photos on the table in front of him, photos of you. Creepy, disturbing photos of your everyday life, going to work, picking up the mail, walking the dog. The photos made Angel’s stomach churn. Your coworker Amanda gave them to Angel just a few hours ago hoping they would help in any way. She told Angel you began receiving them weeks ago. You brushed them off, tossing them. You didn’t want Angel to worry.

You should have told him. He should have been worried.

Now you were gone, someone had grabbed you on your way to your vehicle after work.

Angel ran his hand over his face. He was exhausted and his head was pounding. He wanted to cry, to scream, to lash out at anyone around him but he couldn’t.

Felipe walked in behind his eldest son. His heart broke as he saw how defeated he was. He gave Angel a firm squeeze on his shoulder before sitting down next to him. Angel may not want to hear what he had to say but he had to say it. “I know how much pain you’re in mijo.” He spoke, getting Angel to remove his hand and look at him. “I know you want her back, you want vengeance but none of that matters right now. You have to stay level headed, strong, for them.” Felipe motioned over to your three kids in the next room watching Finding Nemo. “They need you to be strong.”

Angel watched his kids for a moment. Diego, your oldest, sat in the middle of the couch while your youngest Camilla, Angel’s princesa sucked on her thumb leaning on her brother for support as she was mesmerized by the pictures playing before them. Rosa, your middle child sat on the other side of Camilla more interested in her game boy than the movie as you showed her tio EZ how to play.

They were oblivious to the horror their father was facing.

“They need her.” Angel kept his gaze on them a moment longer. You were the rock in your family. Angel couldn’t do this without you. He needed you. “I need her.”

Felipe wanted to have hope that you would be found safely but he knew the dangers this life brought, he knew the dangers of the situation. “You may be all they have now Angel.”

“What the fuck are you trying to say?” Angel turned to his father.

"I'm just trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I did Angel." Felipe explained. After their mother passed he was never the same and certainly not there for his sons like he should have been. His boys were older, adults then which helped but was no excuse.

"Don't talk like she ain't coming back." Angel warned. “She is coming back home to us. She has too.” He didn’t even want to think about what his father was suggesting. There was no way he was losing you.

EZ cleared his throat as he now stood in the entryway with Camilla in his arms and Rosa holding his hand, Diego right behind him. “I’m going to order a pizza. Everyone is getting a little hungry.”

“Is mom not coming back?” Rosa asked. Her eyes bore into Angel’s searching for answers he didn’t have. All they knew was that you were staying with your sister tonight to help her pack for her move.

“Come here.” Angel held his hands out instructing her to come sit in his lap. EZ passed Camilla to Felipe exchanging her for the pictures so the kids wouldn’t see. “Of course mom is coming back.” He looked at each of them seeing a little piece of you. Camilla had your nose, Diego your eyes, and Rosa was the spitting image you. “She’s just helping auntie out, she’ll be back before you know it.”

He made that promise to them even knowing it might not be true. It was what they needed to hear and right now he had to do what he’d wished someone would for him. To hold them comforting them with the promise that everything would be alright.

—————————————————

Angel finally got your kids bathed and in bed. It was definitely much harder without your help but he did it and he was proud of himself. He thought you would be too. None of them wanted to sleep in their own beds without you home so the three of them were snuggled up in your grand king bed.

Felipe was still here just in case Angel got a call. Having him in just the other room brought some comfort to him. EZ had taken the photos with him excusing himself after the pizza arrived to help in the search for you. If anyone would notice anything crucial to your safe home coming he knew it would be his brother.

Angel sat in your reading chair with your favorite blanket across his lap as he watched your kids. He had his gun on the dresser next to him just in case and his phone in hand waiting for any updates. He hated not being out there looking for you but he also knew you would want him to stay with the kids and he trusted his brothers would leave no rock unturned in their search for you. They loved you just as much as him, there were no other people in the world he’d entrust your life and safety with.

He wasn’t sure when it was but at some point he must have dozed off. He was awoken by the buzzing of his phone now on the hardwood floor of your bedroom. He shot up checking his surroundings and on the kids first to make sure they were still in bed before grabbing his cell. He fumbled with the device a moment cursing until he finally got it answered.

“Did you find her?” He asked. His stomach was in knots as he prepared for the worst. He was trying to remain positive but that could only do so much.

He hated not feeling in control.

“We got her. She’s safe, Angel.” EZ said on the other end. “She wants to talk to you.”

Angel stood up quickly but quietly , exiting the bedroom before closing the door gently behind him. He was overwhelmed with emotion as the news rushed through him. He slid down the door settling down on the ground before his legs had the chance to give up on him.

“Hey baby.” Hearing your voice was what truly caused him to break.

“Hey, mi amor.” Angel managed through a sob, the tears flowed fully and unapologetically now. He had never been so happy to hear your voice in his life. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You reassured him. “We’re on our way home now. How are our kids?”

“Good but they’ve missed you. I miss you.” His voice was defeated. “Don’t ever pull this shit again. You come to me, okay? We can’t do this without you.”

Now it was your turn to break. The only thing you could think about the whole time you were gone was Angel and your family, of how the only thing you wanted was just to see them once more, to just have a little more time with them. “Okay, I promise Angel.”

Angel rested his head back against the door. He couldn’t trust his own voice to say much but he needed to say this. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

———————————————

That next morning the table was set with your plates full of pancakes you and Angel had made for breakfast. You spent all your time being back home in Angel’s lap watching the kids sleep together. Neither one of you could sleep so once dawn approached you decided to make breakfast together, something the two of you hadn’t done in a while.

Angel sat across from you at the table never taking his eyes off you. He watched you as you listened to the kids tell you about their night with Felipe and Daddy. You smiled engaging with each of them, laughing at their little jokes. For just a second you looked up back at Angel and your smile only grew. You gave him a look telling him you were proud of him, that he did an excellent job and that you loved him so much.

You saw him even when he would feel unseen.

All was right in his world once more and in that moment he vowed to himself that he would never let anything happen to you again.

Tagging: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @starrynite7114 @gemini0410 @knowles-morgan @everyhowlmarksthedead @ktiz90 @brothersofmayhem @vsfavs @scuzmunkie @chibsytelford @sadeyesgf @blessedboo @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @toni9 @mayans-sauce @briana-mishell24 @langiinspirations

#angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc

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theeslytherinslut · 4 years ago

Text

12 Grimmauld Place (8/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post-Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,130

Warnings: gross imagery

A/N: Next chapter will have the trio! Don’t worry the smut is inbound, I love me a slow burn lol. I have a feeling this will be a fairly long story, possibly pushing 20 chapters cause I’m only just coming up on the storyline I had in mind lmao

As Snape pushed open the hospital wing doors, the girlish voice you'd heard earlier returned, and this time you were stunned to find it was arguing with Dumbledore. Surely no student in their right mind would argue with Dumbledore.

“I’m afraid that whatever is behind that door doesn’t concern you, Madam Undersecretary,” Dumbledore said serenely. Glancing warily at Sirius, you found him giving you the same look. So it wasn’t a student. You recognized the title as well, possibly from filling out paperwork for work. Work...the Ministry...Sirius Black sitting right next to you, a very much wanted Sirius Black.

“Sirius, it might be best you transform now." Madame Pomfrey said before you could. Sirius shot her a shocked look, and she shook her head. "Oh, don't look so shocked. Of course I know--and I'm not the only one, you know. Now, go on. I don’t believe that woman is going to be sated by Dumbledore.”

And sure enough, a second later, the woman pushed open the doors, and Sirius’ hand slipped from yours. Looking over, in Sirius’ spot sat a large black dog, panting slightly. Bewildered, you stared at Sirius’ new form as a small, toad-looking old woman pulled back your separating curtains.

“What is this?” she hissed, looking to Madame Pomfrey. She was dressed entirely in an alarming shade of pink, which made her resemble a bubblegum ball. Feeling slightly nauseated, you tore your eyes away from her vivid color, but not before noticing her face was also pink in agitation.

“This is a patient,” Madame Pomfrey responded icily, barely looking up from your leg. Thankfully, it seemed she’d ceased her draining until Sirius was able to support you once more.

“She isn’t a student, what’s she doing here?” the woman asked, barely looking at you.

“She used to be,” you retorted, stung by the lack of empathy. She seemed not to hear you, but instead stared expectantly at Madame Pomfrey.

“I shall treat any who seek medical attention, regardless of their status within the school.” Madame Pomfrey said, drawing herself up to her full height.

“I don’t believe that’s your decision to make, dear.” the woman said in a sickly sweet voice. Your temper flared.

“As Headmaster, I bestow upon Madame Pomfrey the ability to treat whoever she sees fit. So, unless you plan to bodily remove Mrs. Y/L/N, I don’t see why this conversation can’t be continued in a more conducive setting. I do believe we’re keeping Y/N’s wounds from being drained.” Dumbledore said, gesturing down to your leg. “Decaying drought,”

The woman let out a ghastly noise as she looked down, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, that’s nice. Really love being gasped at, as if being mauled weren’t enough.” you quipped, unable to hold your tongue. Sirius growled at the woman, and her eyes fell to him.

“There! Now that can’t be sanitary, can it? It’ll have to go,” the woman said, reaching out to pull Sirius from the room. It seemed she was determined to assert some sort of authority over the situation. Sirius growled more loudly and now raised himself to stand on all four legs; whatever dog breed he’d chosen was massive, and he stood almost as tall as she did. Looking at him, he looked truly terrifying. His long fangs glinted in the light pouring in from the massive windows and his hackles were raised as he viciously growled at the squat woman before you. He looked more wolfish than like a dog.

“I’d advise against that, Madame Undersecretary. I do believe he holds a certain affinity for Y/N. Dragging him from her bedside might not get you the results you so wish to receive.” Dumbledore smiled fondly down at Sirius, who still stood barring his long fangs at the woman.

“Well,” she gasped, pulling her short, stubby hand from Sirius’ reach. “Cornelius shall be hearing all about this, Dumbledore. I must say it is most unusual for a prior student to be treated by staff during the school year, nevertheless joined by her mangy mutt.”

“I should expect nothing less,” Dumbledore said, serene as ever, “Now, shall we? Unless you wish to see the effects of an expertly made decaying drought on the human body?

She made a face and peered back down at your angry leg, and you were sure to meet her gaze with an icy glare. She cast a look around at the group of you, and you suddenly remembered Remus’ unconscious body in the next compartment. Hoping she wouldn't look around, you held her eyes with a glare. Thankfully, she seemed unable to find anything worth staying for and allowed Dumbledore to sweep her from the room.

Madame Pomfrey let out a string of words that made you proud, and you smiled at a now human Sirius, his hand slipping back in yours.

“That was Dolores Umbridge. Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and by all accounts, simply the very worst of humanity.” Sirius explained, absentmindedly running his thumb along the outside of your hand. Madame Pomfrey still bustled about agitatedly, but you knew she’d soon return to you.

“What’s she doing here? Surely Dumbledore would never hire such a horrible woman?” you asked. It’d been a while since you’d been at Hogwarts, but that you knew.

“Of course not. She was placed here by the Minister. Fudge is becoming intensely paranoid--and about all the wrong things. As I’m sure you’re very much well aware of, he refuses to acknowledge,” and casting a look at Madame Pomfrey, he cut himself off, “You-Know-Who’s return. Instead of dealing with the real enemy--the only true enemy of the whole of the wizarding world--he instead has set his sites on Dumbledore. As I’m sure you’ve read, he’s already got the Daily Prophet to work on subduing and poisoning the public against him and his claims. They’ve even begun to go after Harry now, too. Cowards. Complete and utter sodding tossers, the whole lot of them--”

“Sirius, there are students in here,” Madame Pomfrey hissed, swatting him lightly with an empty medicine bottle.

“Sorry, Poppy. Anyway, Fudge -is so deluded he thinks Dumbledore is using Hogwarts to train up young wizards for a fresh, formidable, wizard army.” Sirius said

“He’s what?!” you laughed, sure he must be exaggerating.

“He’s gone completely round the twist. Thinks Dumbledore’s training up all these children to get them to storm and take over the Ministry. Utterly fuck--sorry, completely nutters. So, he’s placed Umbridge at Hogwarts, fulfilling both the vacant position of Defense Against the Dark Arts and a fiercely loyal mole. Word is he’s working on drawing up the plans to take over the school completely. This just being the first of many steps.” Sirius explained. Madame Pomfrey leaned in and gasped at his story.

“Take over the school? That wretched woman?” she said, holding her hand to her mouth in horror. Sirius nodded grimly, and a look of intensity came over Madame Pomfrey’s features.

“Well, I don’t cave so easily,” she said, sniffing haughtily at the thought of being under Umbridge’s thumb.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor,” Sirius smiled up at her.

“Gryffindor?” you said, shocked. I mean, it made sense for Madame Pomfrey to attend Hogwarts in her youth, but you’d never really thought about it--much less what house she’d belong in.

“Yes, Gryffindor, but I never let that cloud my judgment, Slytherin,” she sneered playfully at you. You and Sirius let out a laugh, yours dying much quicker as she came back towards you.

“Alright, dear, last one. It looks like his pinky claw didn’t quite reach you,” she said, grimacing as she spoke.

Wrapping my fingers around the bed frame and Sirius’ hand, you nodded.

And like always, it was hell. Screaming, you tried to quiet yourself, but it was to no avail. Your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as she worked her way down your leg, pushing out the rotting flesh

“Y/N?!” a voice yelled groggily. Cursing, Sirius slipped from your grasp and disappeared from view. Despite Sirius’ absence, Madame Pomfrey continued.

“Almost done, ‘few more seconds, dear,” she said.

Casting a look down, your head spun at the image below you. Your limb looked more zombie-like than human. It was a horrible mixture of deep burgundy, black as the infection ran down your leg, and purple from your enlarged veins highlighting here and there.

“Remus! Contain yourself!” Sirius scolded. You knew you should shut your mouth to calm him, but it didn’t seem possible with the imagery added to the sensation. Finally, she stopped, and you fell back against the pillows once more, vision blacking round the edges as you fought to regain your breath.

Then, what sounded like a dull thud followed by a groan sounded, and Remus burst through the curtains. What he saw brought him to his knees.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s not as bad as it looks?” you said, trying to force out a laugh. It came out as a strangled cough, though, as your throat was raw from yelling.

“It’ll be alright, Remus. She’ll be fine by this time tomorrow, come on,” Madame Pomfrey fretted over Remus, and you could see her soft spot for your brother remained.

“But...” he trailed off. Words seemed to fail him, and he gestured weakly to your grotesque limb.

“Well, sit down, drink this,” she said, forcing a lavender-colored liquid into his slightly shaking hands. “Calm down, and we’ll explain. If you go roaring off again, I’ll have to knock you out with something much stronger than the last,” she threatened, lowering her eyes at Remus. With a sudden fondness, you remembered her disdain for chaos in her wing.

“Oh, Sirius,” she sighed. He’d just come in clutching a bloody nose, but seemed amused rather than angry.

“Remus!” you said, shocked at your brother.

“It’s quite alright, love. If someone were trying to keep me from you while you were screaming like that, I’d do the same.” Sirius smiled at you. A tingly feeling brewed in your chest at his words. “Excellent right hook, Moony,” he complimented, bowing slightly at his friend.

Tonks followed in soon after, rolling her eyes at the two of them. You met her eyes, and the both of you mouthed ‘men’ at each other whilst shaking your head.

As Remus laughed weakly at Sirius and downed the rest of the liquid, a small boy in scarlet and gold came to collect Tonks. With a wave and a glance back at Remus, she was gone. The effects of the potion were instantaneous; his hands ceased their shaking, he sat up a little straighter and took a deep breath.

“Now, then,” Madame Pomfrey sighed, “Her leg. It seems our favorite furry little friend seemed discontent with the marring effects of his claws alone and dipped them in what we’ve found to be a decaying drought.”

Bracing yourself for his reaction, you were extremely shocked to find him reasonable still.

“You’ve got Severus making the antidote, then?” Remus asked logically.

“I’ll take a dozen of whatever that was for later,” you breathed at Madame Pomfrey. Remus was such a reasonable, logical person in every situation, except when it came to you. When it came to you, however, he was much more reminiscent of his wolfish counterpart.

Everyone laughed lightly at your comment, and you sat up slightly, most of the pain fading.

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now, dear. You rest. Though, I daresay at some point your friend here will have a trio of visitors,” she said, twinkling at Sirius.

Sirius smiled in realization, and you were happy he got to see his godson early--even if it did take you suffering from a poisonous werewolf attack.

“I’ll be staying, Poppy,” Remus said, pulling up a chair. You opened your mouth to reason with him, but he stopped you by lifting his hands, and you sighed--there was only so much the potion could do.

She cast wary glances at Sirius and Remus.

“You know, I don’t believe there was a single night in which the two of you were in here that didn’t end in various bangs, pop, and screams.” Suddenly, her demeanor was very intense and McGonagall-like. “The first will be tonight. Or you’ll both end up in an empty cot!”

“Poppy, we are adults, you know,” Remus reminded her, smiling lightly.

“Oh, like that ever stopped you lot,” Madame Pomfrey said, giving them each a stern stare as she left.

“We’ll be on our very best behavior, Poppy,” Sirius said solemnly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“You two will be the death of me,” she sighed, whisking away back to her desk, a concerned look on her face.

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

Taglist: @geeksareunique @fredweasleysbitchh @green-intervention @stopbeingcurious @ @blackbirddaredevil23 @pan-pride-12 @deathkat657 @theeicedamericano

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pocketramblr · 4 years ago

Text

The followup to the Thought™

"Ugh." You say, waving to the screen. "Look at that, now that's who should have been the main character-"

"Oh?" I say, a small glowing figure appearing in front of you. "I can show you that if you want, wish granted." I wave my magic wand, and you blink to find yourself watching a different universe's show.

It's about a blond boy, with a minor superpower that's difficult to work with. He only has one friend, with major anxiety. Both of them want to be heroes, which is about the coolest and nicest thing anyone can be in this world.

But the blond boy is only in middle school. He doesn't get the best grades, he's a bit of a class clown, a bit of a delinquent. He's not exactly cool or over powered, but his earnest, bright nature endears him to the watchers and readers of the story. He's nice, and not worried about competition. He'll put cheering up his best friend over studying- and he'll put just enjoying video games together over training his power on his own.

He doesn't, by the way, train on his own. He makes meager progress in the class provided, and works hard when he's thinking about it, but he honestly doesn't even know where to start with his power.

He takes the entrance exam, and by some manner of luck, manages to permeate through blasts and rubble while shoving other students out of the way. He's used to watching out for his best friend, at least, and that carries over in his natural, if clumsy, attempts to help others here.

With more luck, he is accepted into the school on those points. So is his best friend, though they're in different classes. He still doesn't have many friends, but they meet a new girl in his bf's class: she's gorgeous and powerful- the most raw energy in any of their quirks, and no anxiety or complications holding her back.

She's a bit of a ditz, though, a bit much for others to hang around all the time, so even though she should be a shoe in fit the most popular, she slides easily into their group instead.

The fandom likes her a lot, and you feel impatient. This isn't the story you wanted to see, not really.

"Don't worry," I say. "Time flies when you're actually a school story instead of a daily battle with villains story."

And it does- they compete in the first sports festival. The main character, to little surprise, doesn't do well. But he manages to keep himself and the others smiling and laughing through it, and that brings the attention of the mentor.

The mentor that you like, of course, the mentor you believe was right.

The mentor trains the main character. It's hard, but he can actually break down what exactly he needs to improve on, and now that he has support, the main character takes it seriously. Like all children do, he rises to the expectations on him when he's given the material to do so.

Not made to find the material. The kid would have never dreamed of just assuming and asking such a high ranking hero to focus on him. Rather like another boy, but we'll get to him later.

It's another year. The girl tried her best at the beauty pageant. The best friend tried his best at the liscence exam. The main character has still been training at his internship.

"His second year." You say, thinking. "Now this is when All Might shows up in the timeline, ten months before February in what would be Mirio's second year."

I raise an eyebrow, but wave my magic wand.

All Might does appear. The mysterious top hero, always in the background- ads, all over the mentor's office. They used to work together, but no one in this universe knows anything more than that.

The mentor and the principal happily tell the main character that the number one hero wants to meet with him directly! The boy is nervous, of course, excited, of course, and a tad confused.

But meet they do.

And offer his quirk, he does.

The episode and chapter end on that, of course, and you feel a surge of excitement. Finally!

You look around and realize others in this fandom do not see it that way. Many critique the twist as coming out of nowhere, with no build up that it was even possible, breaking the established rules for no reason. Many others are proud of how much the main character has to work at the difficult power, and do not want him to have a second before he masters this one. Some feel it's a trap- a secret test of character, or a villain in disguise who will ruin him. Some wonder if it's more metaphorical- he's offering the power of support and more guidance, maybe a connection, but not his literal superpower.

You do not know how to feel about it, but you know this will be for the better. He will be perfect for it.

At the beginning of the next update, the boy turns down the quirk. Grateful, more than he could say, but he's worked so hard for his own power and he's not even up to snuff with it yet. He's unsure he's the best option. The girl, after all, is used to weilding such power, maybe he should try her, maybe he should keep looking.

The top hero nods, and asks if he can visit again later, if he can find no other. The boy is a good hero after all, and maybe he needs to believe in himself as much as he is telling his friend to. It will be hard to train a second quirk, yes, but he can manage. It will make him stronger and pay off, after all.

The boy agrees, tentatively. No one can really say no to the number one hero, after all.

"Ok." You say, nodding. "There's an opening. It can build more, since that's how the story is here, way more slowburn."

I shrug. That's what happens when you start the story three years early, but whatever.

The story goes on. The main character does better in the sports festival, but not by any measure good. His friend finds a mentor, a character popular. Much warmer than the blond's mentor. The girl gets a really good mentor, a top tenner.

And then they start to get really good. They're used to training now, and getting it all bit individually and together. The mentor is motivated as of by fury, pushing more and more. And the main character grows to reach it.

Another year. They're seniors, now. Just one year left before they're pros, but they're already about at that level. They're called the Big Three.

The third year is different. Chaos every few weeks. A class of first years attacked.

"Oh, because All Might is still looking for a successor among the students- checking over the freshmen but they won't be able to compare."

I hum in a way that could be interpreted as agreement.

The sports festival. Finally, real victory. They do so well, even with one anxious at crowds. And one that is seemingly allergic to staying clothed. They do well.

The chaos continues, always at the sides. The others in this universe who follow the story talk about that and the offer the top hero made. Is he getting weaker? Did that power leak somehow and now someone wants it?

The tension grows, especially for you. If the hero doesn't give the main character the power before the summer....

The main character doesn't get the power before the summer. The hero falls on tv while the blond and his friends watch in horror.

After the summer, the main character decides to meet the freshmen. You wonder who will replace a certain someone's seat, or if this is playing the original quirkless hero storyline.

When the main character challenges the class of freshmen and you see that sparking green, you seethe.

"I said I wanted Mirio to have OfA! Why is he-"

"Actually," when I speak, you cannot. "You asked for him to be the main character. He still is. A beloved one, even."

"You know what I meant!"

"Perhaps. But then you asked for another change, and so I allowed All Might to meet with him a few days before he would have in the old timeline. He had a chance, he turned it down. Why are you mad at him having his own ambitions and autonomy?"

"He was supposed to take it! He's the worthier option, and you know it."

"What makes him worthy?"

"He works hard!"

"So does Izuku."

"He worked hard before he was offered everything by All Might!"

"Yes," I will admit. "Though, that's only because he met Sir before he met All Might. Were you so focused on how slow it was going that you didn't actually watch what he was doing?"

You will not admit to anything, still angry.

"He'll get another chance." I remind you.

You huff, but the story continues on.

The main character takes a liking to the boy you despise. So does the fandom, dubbing him the cutest little kohai. He's awkward and eager and sunny, like a fusion of the main trio.

He's also impulsive, and on their first patrol together they run into who will obviously be the big bad of the arc- and his abused daughter.

The fandom is split on if the story is going to go with a "In this arc, the blond must pass his experience on patience to a boy who it all about speed and too naive" or if it's "In this arc, it's the mouth of babes- the boy will inspire the main character to do good more impulsively."

You sit and wait for it to be "the boy will finally fork over the power he's now spent over a year working to hold and use to the real main character."

The raid happens. We finally see how the main character met his best friend. It's very sweet. The girl is a lead character and gets focus on her fight too, though the two freshmen working with her don't really. There's another funky freshman boy who turns out to be more like the best friend than we thought.

Finally, we get to the main fight.

And the main character is shot, quirk erased. For good, if the villain who's really not actually that good an example of a scientist is to be believed.

"Oh. What if the former top hero offers his power again, after this arc? It's about loss but always moving on?" The fandom asks. They aren't sure if the buildup to this is better than before, but it's certainly am interesting turn, and not as controversial as the last time.

The best friend saves the day by awakening right at the perfect moment to drag the teacher in. The quirk is kinda super deus ex machina for this arc though.

At the hospital, the mentor dies. The former number one hero is there.

The fandom wonders whether to hope or fear how long he'll wait to replace the mentor and the quirk.

You wait, knowing it's soon.

Then the freshman offers his quirk, and the fandom flips again.

"We should have known!" They cry. "He had super speed and strength the whole time, maybe the sparks are from his own quirk, but it's the same power! Oh, this hurts much more than just if it had been the retired hero!"

Once again, the fandom divides. Many can't bear to see the kohai they love shoved aside after this one moment. Will be be able to use his original power? Then they won't mind the strength for the blond. Some say to wait for his power to come back. A few pipe up about the possibility of him doing it quirkless. He has trained physically too, after all these years.

"No thanks," he says again. He does smile though- just like Sir told him to- and tells his kohai that he’ll do great things with the power, just like All Might did. Tells him that he already has.

You're past the point of fury now.

"Why?" You demand.

"Keep watching." My tone is cold. "Keep watching, the next five months where he does nothing but babysit a girl in hopes she'll magically make himt not quirkless again. He doesn't even ask if he can be a quirkless hero. He doesn't even go to school to keep training. You demanded the other boy figure it out himself. This boy doesn't. He just hopes the same thing that did this to him can undo it."

You don't know what to say about that.

"Neither took it seriously in middle school. That's the nature of middle schoolers. Neither of them tried to go solo quirkless, when no support was provided. But they're both good kids. Hard workers. Heroic. They love each other, honestly, they're friends. It's sweet. And it's sad that it took me doing this for you to see it."

I shake my head.

"Sir Nighteye never saw how Mirio was much more like Izuku than All Might. That was his mistake, because he didn't know the meaning of worthy. Not that it was his choice to make even if he had. There's no magic to this. OfA isn't Excalibur or Mjölnir. All sorts of people have had it. And All Might wasn't doing much to train before he found Nana ether, as much as he got into trouble. OfA is more about connections they have to each other. It's about people's relationships. As it happens, that just doesn't include Mirio and wouldn't be at its most meaningful if it did."

"You just are too much a Deku stan and hate Mirio-"

"Accuse me of hating Mirio again, and I will leave you here." I threaten, pointing my wand at you. "Now. Did you learn your lesson?"

You grumble, but you do nod.

"Good." I say, before waving my wand one last time. You're back where you were before, not a trace of me or magic.

The lesson, though, sticks.

#i said i was going to 'it's a wonderful world' you and so i did #hmcmverse #other main characters meta series

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helaintoloki · 4 years ago

Text

Odds and Ends

pairing: Ben Hargreeves x reader, Five Hargreeves x reader

warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, death, unrequited love

notes: listen, the pairings sound odd but they make sense when you read it i promise

prompt: “There’s a time for us, it’s just not now.”

They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes; you witness the moment of your birth from an outsider’s perspective, you revisit your first steps and your first love, you remember the quiet nights of rainfall on the windows and the smell of freshly cut grass on early school morning’s. You can recall how it felt to get your heart broken for the first time and the warmth you felt wrapped in your mother’s embrace. It is quick and long all at once, like watching a movie, except everyone fails to mention what happens once the credits begin to roll. Where do you go? What do you see? What do you do?

You’d been the first to get struck by the Handler’s gunfire, a bullet flying straight through your chest and embedding itself in your heart. You died almost instantly, and despite the pure horror that struck Five at the sight of your gruesome death he could do nothing to save you as he too crumpled to the ground. It was a split second of pain, and then you were gone.

Just as you had been promised, flashes of the life you had lived pass you by with the same quick clicks of a slideshow presentation on a projector. You could see yourself nestled in your mother’s arms, the swaddle of blankets encompassing your figure shielding you from the outside world. You watched your younger self shyly display your powers to a stoic Reginald Hargreeves, seven heads curiously peeking through the crack of the door to get a look at the team’s newest edition while your mother watched on anxiously. You saw the way in which you napped upon Five’s shoulder, the rainfall pattering gently against the window as he read the pages of his favorite novel, and you relived the sadness that came over you at his disappearance. You witnessed the quiet nights of stargazing alongside Ben, experienced your first kiss again and your first time falling in love only for it to end in bloodshed and a snowy funeral with tearful apologies and guilt ridden thoughts. Everything you’d ever lived through plays out in front of you right until the final gunshot, and then everything around you goes dark. There is nothing.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the empty space where life ends and the afterlife begins, but soon enough you find yourself wandering through the doorway that suddenly presents itself to you. There are no clues as to where it might lead, but light bleeds through the cracks and beckons you to step forward before you can change your mind. You’re overwhelmed by the warmth that surrounds you the moment you step foot inside, and it takes you a moment to adjust before you can fully comprehend where you are.

The room you stand in is quiet, sunlight filtering through blinds and coating the cream colored walls in golden hues. Colorful houseplants line the shelves and photo frames fill in the empty spaces— moments from different points of time occupy the frames, stolen glances and hidden kisses and dreamy smiles. You gravitate towards the photo next to the succulent plant and gingerly pull it from the shelf: it’s a photo of you and Ben as children, and with a watery smile you bring the picture close to your chest and clutch it tightly against your heart.

“I thought you’d like it,” a voice says gently, your whole body stiffening in surprise at the sound. A single tear slides down your cheek before you can will yourself to turn around, and you nearly drop the frame at the sight before you. He’s different than you remember him, but he still has the same kind eyes and gentle smile that you missed ever so dearly. His eyes seem to sparkle at the sight of you, welling with tears as he opens his arms to you. “Hi, y/n.”

“Ben,” you whisper in a trembling voice, a choked sob escaping you as you fling yourself into his arms and hug him impossibly tight. You can feel the warmth that radiates from him almost as if he were alive, can sense the way his arms wrap themselves around your waist and squeeze you unbearably close to his chest, and you can savor the sensation of his plush lips pressing against your forehead in a tender kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers, afraid that if he raises his voice any higher he’ll disrupt the peaceful quiet you find yourselves in. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“I didn’t either,” you admit with a weak smile. Chills crawl down your spine as you’re reminded of your own death, but you push the thoughts away in order to make room for Ben. After all these years, you’ve finally been reunited with the love of your life, and if you’re being honest you aren’t quite sure how to act. It almost doesn’t feel real, and a small part of you is afraid of waking up and finding that it was nothing but a dream. Ben pulls your attention towards him with the careful guidance of his finger underneath your chin, his reassuring features calming your nerves.

“You’re not dreaming,” he promises you. “This is real, you’re home.”

“I’m home,” you reiterate with a tearful smile before carefully cupping his face in your hands. “I’m home.”

(Five’s body tremors in time with his breathless panting as he struggles to fight against the heaviness of his eyelids. His body is warm and cold all at once with the blood that slowly pools around his figure, and he uses some of the last remaining strength he has to turn his head and look upon your body. You lie lifeless and still, hair splayed around your head like a halo and crimson red seeping through your clothing, and a shuddering breath leaves him at the sight. His first love, his only love, the one that could have been had he not gone against his father’s wishes all those years ago, is dead, and it seemed he could do nothing to stop it. Soon he would join her along with the rest of his siblings in the quiet afterlife, and so would come the final end of the Umbrella Academy.)

“I’m so sorry about what happened to you, Ben. You were so young, you didn’t deserve it, and if I had just-”

“Hey,” he interrupts gently, “it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“But being alone for this long...”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park,” Ben says with a faint chuckle, “but I’m okay now, we’re okay, and I don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“I missed you,” you profess vehemently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says with a careful smile, one that slowly begins to dwindle with time.

“Ben?” You prod gently. “What is it?”

(All Five had ever wanted was to keep you safe, whether it be from a scraped knee after a bout of rough housing with Diego or the end of the world, it was his job. You’d fallen in love with his brother in the wake of his absence, something Five could never blame you for no matter how much it hurt, and it was through Vanya’s book that he got a glimpse of the life you had lived without him. Your secret romance with the Horror, your descent into loneliness and isolation after his passing, your work as a nurse under the guise of a fake name so that you could use your gift without anyone ever associating you with the life you had lived as a child. You didn’t want it, and he’s sure you didn’t want this— to die such a horrible death at such a young age when you still had your whole life ahead of you. Five had lived long enough to see what the world had to offer, if he were to die now he’d have all the boxes checked on his list, but you and his siblings still had so much to live for and so many things left to do.

“I just want you to be careful,” your voice echoed in his mind, young and naive and apprehensive about Five’s plan to travel without Reginald’s permission. “Be smart about this, smarter than you usually are, and make sure you come back home.”

“You’re the genius who said we should jump. Right?” Luther. “You’re the one who got us stuck here.”

“Start small.” The voice of his father. “Seconds, not decades.”

Wait a minute, that’s it! By god, that’s it!)

“You can’t stay.”

“W-What? I don’t understand, what do you mean I can’t say?” You sputter, taken back by Ben’s blunt declaration. You were dead, where else could you go, what else could you do besides spend the rest of eternity with the love of your life?

“You can’t stay,” Ben repeats solemnly. “You can’t die yet, it’s not your time.”

“But I am dead! A bullet literally went through my heart, I don’t think you can exactly come back from that,” you protest anxiously.

“I can’t explain it, but trust me when I say that it isn’t time for you yet,” Ben pleads, gently taking your trembling hands in his own and giving them a soft squeeze. “You still have so much to do in life, so many great things. You’re going to get married, you’re going to settle down in a nice little house with cute little kids running around the place, and you’re going to be happy. So happy. But you can’t do that here, so you have to go.”

“Ben, please,” you beg through a sob. “Please, I want to stay here with you. Don’t make me go back, don’t make me leave you, I can’t.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ben shushes gently as he cups your face in his hands and brushes away your falling tears. “Hey, it’s okay. Y/n, I promise you we’ll see each other again, okay? I promise.”

“But I just got you back,” you croak, and Ben can only offer you a trembling smile in return.

“There’s a time for us,” he reassures you, “it’s just not now.”

Ceaseless tears fall down your cheeks as you collapse into his arms, your hands clutching tightly at the fabric of his sweater the same way in which a small child would clutch at their favorite blanket. Ben is warm and safe, he is home, and your heart aches at the thought of having to say goodbye a second time— you could hardly handle the first. You had been inconsolable, your sobs had been gut wrenching for the rest of team, and if not for Allison urging you to eat and take care of yourself you might not have ever recovered from your grief. The universe was unfair and unkind, taking the person you loved away from you not once but twice, and despite how strong you wanted to be for Ben you couldn’t help but feel defeated.

“Will you kiss me while there’s still time left?” You snivel, holding on tightly to Ben’s wrist as he reaches up to cup your face and caress your cheek with his thumb. He smiles, sweet and tender, and pulls you close.

“I’ve waited seventeen years to kiss you again,” Ben professes, and without a second to waste he pulls you in close and presses his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss.

(Time is reversing. Five can feel the blood slowly seeping back into his body, bullet wounds seem to heal themselves and the corpses of his loved ones are beginning to reanimate as everything becomes undone. The pain is nearly gone, and it’s with a newfound determination that Five wills himself back onto his feet and travels back seconds in time to prevent their deaths, to prevent your death.)

You can feel yourself slipping away from him, you’re losing your grip, and despite how desperately you try to cling to him your touch is beginning to fade. Ben can faintly feel your lips against his own and knows that it’s time, but he holds onto you for just a little longer until he can’t feel you in his arms anymore. He pulls away with a bittersweet smile and releases you from his hold, eyes gazing at you for the last time.

“You get a second chance,” he says. “Make the most of it, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

(With a startled gasp Five finds himself back in time just moments before your deaths. Your eyes meet his his frenzied ones and you frown, gently reaching out to him.

“Five? Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer before he’s disarming the Handler of her firearm, and it’s with that single act of defiance that your death is finally reversed.)

You don’t remember your death and you don’t remember your reunion with Ben. You’re none the wiser, and Five wants to keep it that way. With the Handler dead and the threat of the Swedes gone your life is no longer in danger, and he finally feels like he can breath again.

“You okay?” Your voice sounds gently, pulling the boy back to reality. He gazes upon your figure, wisps of stray hair straying from your braid and a questioning though kind smile on your face, and a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding leaves his lips at the sight of you. You don’t return his affections and you’ll never be together, but he can live with that so long as you’re safe and sound.

“Never been better,” he replies with a closed lip smile. You catch the boy off guard by pulling him into your side and giving his shoulder a tight squeeze, an act of affection only you can get away with, and after a moment has passed you release him with a small giggle.

“Come on,” you gesture as you begin to follow Vanya and the others, “we still have work to do.”

He walks beside you in a comfortable silence, and though he doesn’t know it there’s a faint voice that echoes distantly in your mind, one you can’t place but find soothing nonetheless.

“There’s a time for us.”

And there will be, but for now you’ll just have to wait and see.

#this took me two days to write #listened to the mtv unplugged version of take on me while i wrote it #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number five imagine #the umbrella academy #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #angst!!!

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shirtlesssammy · 4 years ago

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15x20: Carry On

Warning: Boris is a salty, sad fangirl right now so the first part of this recap might be more bitter, reductive venting than is necessary. Please skip ahead to enjoy Natasha’s far more nuanced and enjoyable second half of the recap.

The Road So Far: Cue Carry On Wayward Son

Then:

Salmondean Winchester, the boy with the demon blood and daddy’s blunt little instrument, finally defeats Chuck and gets a taste of true free will

Now:

*Fun domestic montage*

Sam Dean gets a dog! (Okay, fine, Miracle is super cute, and a complete stand-in for Cas --but that thought just sends me on another anger spiral.)

Dean squeezes the shit out of that dog, and I hurt for that touch-starved man.

Sam goes for a run, so like, I guess his life is the same. (thanks to Dean always protecting him and allowing him some normalcy in life) (I’m bitter, remember?)

Dean Sam makes breakfast! Dean brushes his teeth! Sam is SHIRTLESS one last time!

*Shirtless Sammy Alert*

Dean’s room is INEXPLICABLY messy! I do get what this whole montage is doing, and it’s nice, but I’m pretty sure when Becky said the fans like the domestic stuff, it was supposed to include CAS AND OTHER FAMILY. Basically, overlay the Where’s the Angel? gif all over this sequence for me.

And finally, we find the boys are still hunting. Because freedom is just a length of rope.

Dean finds a case, but first they have to stop and get pie! Yay! Dean loves pie, and women, and fast cars. Grumpy-faced Sam humors his big, dumb brother. Yay!

Dean Sam thinks about Cas and Jack. Dean brushes off the thought with a Wherps, gotta keep moving attitude, and I already WANT TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE. Sam then pies Dean in the face, so we have that.

In suburban America, a mother starts to ready her children for bed. There’s a knock at their door and the father answers it. There’s nobody there, and as he turns around, he’s knifed in the back, his wife looking on in horror.

Skull masked killers enter the home. The mother and children run upstairs. The mother is quickly dispatched, and the kids soon follow.

Agents Singer and Kripke check out the crime scene.

They learn more about the parents: exsanguinated and throat ripped out father, tongue ripped out mother. The children are missing. The cop shows a drawing of the killers. Dean (in a wildly out of character move!) uses his photographic memory to remember a case his fucking father botched back in the day. Dean pulls out the journal (MY GOD THERE’S BEEN NO GROWTH)

For TFW Science (because Cas is the tree):

They determine they’re dealing with a roaming band of vampires.

At night, a couple of vampmimes arrive at a house. Dean beheads one right away. Sam shoots the other with dead man’s blood. Dean removes the mask to reveal a normal looking vampmime. Why the masks?? Dean wants answers, and Dean “I’m not a killer” Winchester threatens the vamp with a quick death or slow death (with a spoon). The vamp spills the kids’ whereabouts.

*Much Anticipated Barn Scene Alert*

(Psych! Don’t get your hopes up, what lies ahead is bullshit.)

The masked vamps are crawling all over the joint, but Dean and Sam Winchester can handle it! This is a milk run! They get the kids free and face the big bads.

Fight! Chop! Slice! The boys are overwhelmed. Sam gets knocked out one last time. Dean’s held down to the ground so OMG GUYS!!! JENNY IS BACK!??!?!!? I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THEY GOT HER BACK!! (This joke is so old by now and it’s only been 3 days, sigh.) I did not remember her at all (but then I’m a TFW purest and tend to not watch the early seasons ---and I NEVER HAVE TO AGAIN!) (Natasha: coughs and points at our recap list.) (Boris: shit.) Dean remembers though, and talks just long enough for Sam to wake and chop her head off. See ya, Jenny!

More fighting!

Sam takes out another vamp and Dean tussles with the last one ---and is pushed backwards right into the rebar hook in the wall. So that happened. (I’m trying to stay calm, but I’m a ROILING CESSPOOL OF ANGER AND CONFUSION AND BITTER RIGHT NOW.)

Sam kills the vamp. He’s ready to find the kids and leave. “Sam, I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

Dean pulls Sam close. HE’S BEEN IMPALED! Poor little snowman. Dean makes Sam promise not to try to resurrect him. He tells Sam that he’s proud of him and that he’s always looked up to him. That he was scared to be rejected by Sam in that very first episode when he went to get him from college. “I must’ve stood outside your door for hours. Because I didn’t know what you would say. Tell me to get lost or to get dead.” JESUS SHOW JUST LET DEAN LIVE AND BE LOVED. (Boris: In the alt version where Cas is there too, he’s instead telling Cas about watching him outside the Gas ‘n Sip. why do I do this to myself?)

Sam cries, afraid to go through the world alone. Dean tells Sam to always keep fighting, tells him he loves him, and DIES. He dies clutching his chest and the whole season we think we’ve been getting heart and chest imagery as a symbol of love but instead it was just? Foreshadowing? Of getting impaled through the chest cavity and dying?

Dean dies, and Sam is wrecked, and I call up 911 to inform them that I have been ROBBED of one Dean Winchester finally getting to live his life. (This is indeed, a beautifully acted scene. I just...wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing about it.)

Sam burns Dean on a lonely pyre, with nobody else around but the dog.

For Sam Gets a Dog but at What Cost Science:

Sam wakes alone, in mourning. There’s no dialogue - only a Sad!Sam montage of remembering the people he’d lost in the bunker. (Was this script only like 5 pages?) One of Dean’s cell phones rings. It’s a sheriff who’d been referred to Dean by Donna. (DONNA DOESN’T KNOW FML) There’s a case, so Sam takes off. He shuts down the bunker and it goes dark.

We cut to Dean in Heaven. It’s beautiful - a wilderness of mountains. Dean’s greeted by Bobby sitting at the quiet Roadhouse. Bobby tells Dean that he’s free - and Heaven’s free. Jack opened Heaven and tore down the walls before he took off for places unknown. I am GLAD ABOUT THIS. It’s about time for Heaven to be a true reward, but this show took Dean TOO SOON. “It ain’t just Heaven, Dean. It’s the Heaven you deserve.” Bobby drops one last reveal: “Cas helped.”

They drink together. “it’s almost perfect,” Dean says.

“He’ll be along,” is Bobby’s quiet response. (Our hearts rise thinking about Cas.) Time’s different in Heaven, Bobby explains. (Boris: Jeremy Bearimy, baby!) “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” Dean decides to go for a drive. He gets into Baby and drives away to the tune of “Carry on my wayward son.”

Cut to a montage showing Sam raising a child with “Dean” on the coveralls. (To quote a friend of mine: That goes against basic child safety, Sam!) While Dean drives, Sam raises a son.

In Sam’s house, the portraits only show pictures of the original Winchesters: Sam, Dean, Mary, John. Me to set dressers: EXTREME SIDE EYE - way to show Sam’s “full life.” Sam kept the Impala in storage, and possibly sits in it and weeps from time to time, as one does.

Much later, Sam dies in his home of “old age disease,” as someone on Tumblr put it. “It’s okay, you can go now,” baby Dean tells Sam, mirroring Sam’s words to his brother. AAAAAND Sam out. Remember, words can kill, kids!

Dean stops on a beautiful bridge and gets out to survey the world.

Dean smiles and the camera pans out. “Hey, Sammy,” he says. The boys are wearing the same outfits as the first episode because SYMBOLISM. (Boris: Symbolism? Like there was no growth or change or...Boris will stay out of your mentions.) (Natasha: Exactly.) They hug, and I do get emotional, because I’m not the burnt and broken shell of a fan that I may appear to be.

We get a “thank you” from Jared and Jensen on the bridge, and then the camera pans away to show the crew. We send them a giant box of MASKS FOR FUCK’S SAKE. And then we set this episode aside as unfulfilling fan fiction and move on with our lives.

Am I sad to see this show end? Yes, I am! Were there things I liked about this episode? Sure! Were there things I so viscerally disliked that I’m still sleeping poorly? Absolutely. That’s love, right? We’re still raw, but we WILL BE BACK on Monday with a new recap of an old episode. See you all then!

Quote on My Wayward Son:

I don’t have a choice. This is my destiny

It’s like running into somebody from high school, you know? Somebody you don’t want to see

Stay with me, please

I’m not leaving you. I’m gonna be with you right here, every day

Cas helped

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #spn spoilers #spn 15x20 #carry on #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #unbelievable I can't tag Cas in the very last episode of this show #supernatural season 15

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novelconcepts · 4 years ago

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fic: something to hang on to

When Jamie buys a camera, she isn’t really thinking about it. They’re driving through Virginia, stopped off at a little gas station; Dani’s outside filling the rental Jeep, which puts Jamie on snack-duty. At the counter, she spots a display of disposable cameras and, almost without thinking, adds one to the pile of sugar and caffeine. It isn’t a plan. Isn’t for any particular reason.

Dani, pawing through the plastic bag of their spoils, raises it from a mess of M&Ms and Pringles and says, “You like photography?” She asks it the way she asks everything, like every little detail she learns about Jamie is another brand-new color added to the shine of the world. Jamie shrugs.

“Never was much for it, but this brave new land is pretty enough. Don’t mind keeping track of it for later.”

It’s more than that, she thinks as Dani raises the viewfinder to her eye and clicks a photo of Jamie behind the wheel, one hand steering, the other stretching across the center console to rest on Dani’s knee. I almost lost you once, Poppins. Wouldn’t have had anything but my own memory to remember you by. This...this will help.

Later, much later, years later, Jamie will look back on that moment as one of her wisest. Later, on a bed she can no longer sleep in, holding a thick album between shaking hands, she’ll think some of the most important choices you ever make are split-second recklessness. A camera, tossed in at the last second. A habit, built on nothing more than needing Dani’s smile immortalized.

Open the album. Take a breath. Flip the page.

***

A photo: Dani sprawled on a red-and-white beach towel, chin propped on folded arms, gazing out away from the camera as though she has no idea anyone is watching.

They’re with Henry and the kids--the first time they’ve seen the Wingrave family since the events at the house, and, though they don’t know it, one of the last times they’ll see them all together--in Florida. It’s strange, Jamie reflects, watching Miles chase Flora across an endless strip of sand. Strange how much world can fit into one country. England was green, rolling with hill and fog and haunted by things older than any of them can imagine. Florida feels...young, somehow. Too warm, too bright, too perfect on a Saturday afternoon.

She’s hugging her knees, seated on a blanket with Dani sitting just an inch further away than she’d like. It’s the safe thing, the smart thing, but she misses her--misses the way they sit in hotel rooms and empty bars, knees touching, pinkies overlapping. Dani, in a sundress that matches the blue of her right eye, is laughing as Miles grabs Flora around the middle and tries with all his ten-year-old strength to hoist her off the ground.

“Miles,” Henry calls, his voice laden with the anxiety of a man who has only just begun learning how to parent. “Miles, be careful--”

“They’re all right,” Jamie interrupts, tossing a handful of warm sand toward Henry’s precarious perch on a plastic chair. "Have you been wound this tight the whole fucking time?”

He looks pained. “You’ll excuse me for never having raised two children before. They’ve been a bit...”

“Precocious?” Dani suggests brightly.

“Demonic?” Jamie says at the same time. Henry sighs.

“Adventurous, shall we say, to meet in the middle.”

“They haven’t been...” Dani’s smiling, the way Jamie has grown accustomed to over the last few months: a beautiful smile that never entirely reaches her eyes. It’s the way she smiles when she thinks she needs to wear a mask of stability, when she needs everyone to think she’s doing all right.

Henry frowns. “Haven’t been what?”

Dani shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Scared? Having nightmares? I don’t know...”

She’s asking-not-asking about that night, like she told Jamie she wasn’t going to do. They don’t need me bringing it up, she’d said back at the hotel, holding tight to Jamie in a way that said she very much needed to talk about this against her own will. They deserve to just live their lives.

Henry looks puzzled. “Strange, but no. No nightmares. Flora had a few at the very start, before we left London, but...no. Not since arriving here.”

Dani nods like this is all she wants to hear, and rubs her cheek with one slightly-sunburnt hand, the moment passing into obscurity as Flora shrieks and Miles trips directly into an oncoming wave. It’s all good here, all sunshine and ease of temper, and Jamie watches Henry stand. Brush off shorts that look truly insane set against his pale legs. Go awkward-jogging into the surf to lift a giggling Flora heavenward.

“They make a fine little family,” she says, pitching her voice so only Dani can hear. Dani nods. There’s a tightness to her mouth that says she’s only half here, only half able to let the sun bake away the shadows. Jamie touches her ankle lightly, wishing they were somewhere less requiring of distance.

“I’m all right,” Dani says. Not a lie of intent, at least, though Jamie suspects it’s more that she wants to be all right. She watches Dani roll onto her front, eyes on the endless ocean, the children tumbling around in its gentle grasp, the man doing his best to keep up.

Could watch her forever, Jamie thinks, knowing it’s far too early to say something so catastrophically huge. She’s been having these thoughts more and more, wild notions of turning this brand-new adventure with Dani into a lifetime event. It turns a key somewhere deep within her chest, some far-off engine making a deep rumbling sound that sends her tripping toward a very real, very powerful feeling of terror.

Her hand slips toward the bag of sunscreen, paperback novels, sliced oranges. A camera, small and yellow and used mainly in moments like this one, emerges. Dani never notices as she brings it to her eye, frames Dani’s blonde ponytail and sun-pink skin, snaps a photo.

Later, when the pictures are developed and spread out across a hotel bedspread, shots of Miles with an orange-peel grin and Flora standing before a monster of a sandcastle intercut with Dani’s far-off pensive expression, Dani will touch the print. Lingeringly, fingers trembling just the slightest bit.

“Why this one?”

Because I loved you more than words could capture, Jamie will know it’s far too early to say. It’d be reckless. It’d be testing the bounds of something still fragile, still one-day-at-a-time hopeful.

“Why not?” she’ll say, and tuck the photo safely back into its sleeve.

***

A photo: Jamie and Dani, backs to the freshly painted Leafling sign, standing carefully apart with shoulders back and a small bouquet of flowers clutched in Dani’s hands.

They keep to themselves, mainly, but some of the nearby shopkeepers have been kind as The Leafling goes from mad late-night concept to brick-and-mortar reality. They bring welcome-to-the-block plants and casseroles that are mostly-edible, and Dani accepts each one with true Midwestern courtesy. Jamie leans back, watches the art of neighborly behavior being painted before her eyes: older women who compliment Dani on her earrings, young men bullied into helping move heavy boxes into storage by their mothers. Dani, in the middle of it all, wearing a soft pastel sweater and a smile that has finally remembered its own strength.

She wasn’t sure how this would go, if Jamie’s honest about it. She’s been telling Dani not to worry for weeks, telling Dani they don’t need to know much about a business to run this one. I grow, you arrange, we make out like bandits with all the nice Americans who value pretty things. It’ll be perfect, Poppins. She’s been saying it, and she thinks she even believes her own words most of the time, but there have been dreams. Anxiety running its red thread through her sleep, telling her she has no skill in this arena, no education to speak of, no idea how to survive in American business while hiding her relationship with her “business partner”.

The day the shop finally opens, Jamie has been saying “it’s going to be great” for so long, she almost surprises herself by rushing into the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. Dani, expression warm and just the tiniest bit teasing, leans against the doorframe.

“You all right?”

“Perfect,” Jamie gasps, staggering to the sink and thrusting a toothbrush into her mouth. “Jus’ great.”

“Too late to turn back now,” Dani points out. “What would we do with all the business cards?”

Jamie groans, spitting mint foam and rinsing out her mouth. “You could show just the slightest bit less glee, Poppins. I’ve just run us into a brick wall of imminent failure.”

Dani laughs, coming up behind her to hug her tight around the middle. “We should probably at least unlock the doors for the first time before you decide it’s time to shutter them again.”

She’s good today, Jamie senses--not the fake-good where she tries her best to pretend she isn’t listening for some deep-down movement Jamie can’t register, but truly happy. Her body is relaxed, her hands certain as she tips Jamie’s cheek and kisses her calm.

“How,” Jamie gasps when they break, “are you not out of your bloody mind right now?”

Dani shrugs. “It’s like the first day of school. Spend all summer planning and worrying, but now it’s happening. Just gotta jump in.”

There are already people waiting when they arrive, to Jamie’s mingled horror and delight. Most of them are their fellow shopkeepers, waiting with the brilliant smiles of people who have already lived this particular nightmare themselves, and just want to pay forward the relief of customers actually turning up. They’re kind, these people--they don’t know Jamie in the least, don’t have the first idea what shadows lurk behind Dani’s eyes, but they take their hands, squeeze, and congratulate them all the same. Jamie thinks they even mean it, most of them. Americans are complicated, boisterous, scandalous people--but they can have such heart.

One woman, old enough to be Jamie’s grandmother, presses a bouquet of peonies against Dani’s chest. “For luck,” she says croakily, patting Dani’s cheek like she’s known her since Dani was three feet tall. “Dry ‘em, hang ‘em somewhere in the back. Remember we’re all rooting for you.”

“Rooting,” a man who owns a nearby pizzeria hoots. “Good one, Carol!”

Jamie almost rolls her eyes, but Dani is beaming. When the others make flapping get in front of the sign gestures, they can’t help but obey, standing with a perfectly-maintained half-person between their shoulders. She wants so badly to reach over, to take Dani’s hand, to kiss her with all the terror and relief she’d never known she could feel at once. Instead, she smiles as professionally as she knows how for the camera someone produces. It’s enough.

Later, tapping a finger against the print the photographer drops on their counter, Jamie says, “Look like I want to pass out.”

Dani glances toward the window, takes note of the empty street, presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’d have caught you.”

***

A photo: Jamie, sitting just behind Dani on a plush couch, arm wrapped around her waist, cheek pressed to flyaway blonde hair. Dani, grinning her widest, cheesiest grin, leaning back like she knows there is no world in which Jamie would ever let her fall.

There are parties, occasionally--usually thrown by other under-the-radar couples they get along with well enough for drinks, not so much that they truly build relationships. They like the quiet life, the two-person road trips, the easy silence after a long day. But, sometimes, life is grand and big and loud, and on those nights, they venture out into the world.

There are a pair of men maybe five years their senior who have been together for “a decade”, if you ask Mike, “a century”, if it’s Paul telling the tale. They’re good people, and their home is a safe space Jamie doesn’t anticipate finding.

Friends are hard, she thinks. Always were, but they’re so much harder once you’ve lost a couple.

Still: when Mike and Paul are set to celebrate a round ten years together (”An eternity,” Paul clarifies, leaning against the Leafling counter to invite them over), they go. Dani wants to, and it’s good seeing Dani want things like this. It’s been almost a year together, almost a year of exploring the map and one another, and Dani’s been getting softer around the edges, less prone to jumping at shadows. The Dani Clayton of a year ago wouldn’t want to attend parties, lest the beast inside leap while her guard is lowered; the Dani Clayton of tonight is holding up a dark green dress, brow furrowed.

“Too much?”

Jamie hums a moment to buy herself time. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’d like to actually leave the house tonight.” Jamie wiggles her eyebrows, buttoning a black shirt and searching for a good pair of suspenders. Dani laughs.

“I think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours.”

“You,” Jamie points out, sidling up behind her and kissing her neck, “have always had entirely too much faith in me, Poppins.”

Dani is, however, a woman of her word when it comes to accepting social invitations, and soon they’re sitting on an exceptionally soft couch in an exceptionally loud living room. Jamie glances around, reading the environment, registering the two women holding hands by the coffee table, the men dancing near the kitchen, the way even the male-female pairs seem not to see anything odd. Mike and Paul have been doing this a long time. This is as safe a space as their own home.

She likes the way Dani relaxes, a little more with every drink tucked into her hand, a little more with a lit cigarette pulled from Jamie’s, a little more still when Mike nudges her and mutters, “Your girl looks good tonight, Clayton.”

She likes, most of all, the way Dani doesn’t flinch away when a Polaroid comes out. These are good people, brave people, smart people. If there are photos taken tonight, they will be pressed straight into the hands of their subjects, gifted away before the chemicals have even processed.

Dani presses back against her, seated on her lap, laughing at some joke Jamie hasn’t really been paying attention to. She’s too busy watching Dani’s profile, the way her head tips back when she’s really laughing, too hard to care what she looks like. Too busy reveling in how it feels to hold Dani in a setting so much more public than usual, her fingers stroking the soft material of Dani’s dress, her body burning and the most comfortable it’s ever been.

Later, with the Polaroid on the nightstand, the green dress on the floor, and a sheet tucked up against the fall chill, Dani says, “We should do that more.”

Jamie chuckles against her shoulder, kissing a patch of freckles. “This?”

“Yes.” Dani wriggles a little, giggling. “But also that.” She’s gesturing to the photo, propped between a lamp and copy of some old Shirley Jackson novel. “It was nice, wasn’t it? Not...”

“Hiding,” Jamie supplies. Dani makes a humming noise soft in her throat.

“I like not hiding you.”

***

A photo: Dani, eyes dark with a smolder only Jamie ever sees, a cigarette between her lips, hair loose around her shoulders.

Nights spent home with Dani, nights where there are no groceries to pick up, no accounting to be done, no errands waiting to be noticed, are Jamie’s absolute favorite thing in the world. There’s just something about this sense of home they’ve been building together, this sense of locked door and secured window and no one else invited to partake that gets Jamie the way nothing else does.

Especially Dani. Dani at home is less reserved, less careful. With every month that passes quietly, no sign of anything but her own mind, Dani gets a little less tight. A little less prone to gazing off into the middle distance. A little less likely to disappear from an otherwise-normal conversation, emerging several minutes later like she’s pulling herself out of a dream.

And, some nights, she’s not just here--she’s utterly present, every atom of her tuned to Jamie like they have no need of space between them, no need of separation. These nights, the nights where Dani strides into the room on a mission, are Jamie’s favorite of all.

“Why,” Dani says, leaning back in a kitchen chair with legs spread and head tilted to exhale smoke toward the ceiling, “are you looking at me like that?”

“Me?” Jamie teases. “You’re the one gazing at me like I’m some terribly interesting new buffet.”

She’s half-joking, but there’s something about the way Dani looks at her on this very particular sort of night, with every line of her body tuned toward Jamie’s, that makes her feel a stupid kind of brave. A reckless kind of excitement unwinds outward, until her fingertips itch to grab at Dani’s hair, her knees weak with the desire to pull Dani close.

She’s doing it now, smoking that cigarette with all the languid energy of a woman perfectly at home, watching Jamie with a faint smirk playing around her lips. No one else sees that smirk, Jamie understands, and it makes her a little faint every time she thinks it. To have something of Dani, some integral comfortable part of Dani that belongs solely to their apartment, their life together, is still a good fortune Jamie can’t entirely parse out.

Her hand moves toward the camera, small and plastic and containing some of the best memories of Dani she desperately needs to keep. Dani lets her snap off a shot, shakes her head when Jamie lowers the camera.

“That’s going to be one of yours.”

She says it every time Jamie tries to capture the white-hot energy of this kind of evening. Dani doesn’t like to see herself through this particular lens, gets fidgety and embarrassed at the sight of her own face etched with such a confident hunger. Jamie asked the first time if Dani wanted her to stop taking the photos altogether, and Dani had shaken her head.

“I don’t mind. But they’re yours, okay?”

She sets the camera aside, moving to take the cigarette out of Dani’s hand, taking a long drag and dropping it in an ashtray. The rest doesn’t need anything in the way--no lens, no embarrassment, nothing but the way Dani’s mouth opens beneath hers, hands already roaming. The rest is not Jamie’s, but theirs, a joint ownership of soft moans and soft skin and soft assurances that this is still, always, home.

Later, with Dani asleep, one hand thrown loosely over Jamie’s hip, Jamie will look at the photos that are hers and hers alone. Dani, mouth wet and swollen from a night spent confined to their bedroom around their anniversary. Dani, grinning and half-asleep, glancing over her shoulder to coax Jamie into putting the camera down, joining her among the blankets. Dani, smoke-haze around her face, wine glass in her hand, looking just past the camera at Jamie’s own desire.

Dani’s choice to share a life with her, Dani’s decision to share every inch of herself with Jamie, is more than Jamie feels anyone deserves.

***

A photo: Dani in front of the Eiffel Tower, sunglasses on, arms spread wide.

A photo: Dani kneeling at the Grand Canyon, gesturing bewilderment at the sheer scope of the place.

A photo: Dani standing before the alleged largest ball of twine in the world, looking rather like she regrets letting Jamie pick the destination this time.

They travel until Dani can’t stomach it anymore, can’t take the uncertainty of unknown roads and unmapped hotel beds--but, first, years of travel. Years of postcards and rental cars, of Jamie turning maps upside down and Dani being shockingly savvy in small-town situations.

These photos, more than any other, feel like they have to be taken for someone else’s idea of posterity, and Jamie feels a little strange, at first. Dani’s already seen much of Europe by the time they meet, and has no photos whatsoever to show for it. Jamie, who started turning up in photos for the first time as an adult, says, “It’ll be good to show ‘em off,” while never quite bringing herself to the edge of an unspoken follow-up question: to whom, exactly? It isn’t as though she and Dani are having children, isn’t as though there will be grandkids tottering around down the line to tune out their stories. Who, exactly, are these mementos for?

Dani is far too kind, far too pragmatic, to put the question to her. Dani only poses, grins, lets Jamie take all the pictures she wants, and then--camera tucked safely away once more--grabs Jamie’s hands and leads her into living it: the food, the outdoor markets, the snowstorms, the sun-kissed hikes. As the years go by, Jamie takes more and more photos, never quite able to explain to herself why it’s so critical. Never quite able to look away when Dani finally covers the lens with one hand and brings her close, kissing her like it’s the first time.

They stop looking at these photos together, after a while. Stop trying so hard to go back, as the days grow shorter and the exhaustion begins to steal the warmth from Dani’s smile. At first, it’s about moving forward--always one foot in front of the other. At first, every photo taken is set aside as a gift to another life. And then, finally, it’s about the moment they’re in, nothing more. Jamie sets the camera on a shelf. Refuses to look at Dani through any barrier but her own two eyes. Dani doesn’t like the snap-click of the camera anymore, anyway--each time, she flinches, like Jamie is about to show her a glimpse of whatever horror she’s been seeing in the mirror.

I only see you, Jamie promises, the ache in her chest so great, she’s sure it will swallow them both. But Dani can’t bring herself to look. Can’t bring herself, just in case Jamie is wrong.

Later--so much later, with eyes stinging and arms empty--she flips through the album and remembers Spain, California, Minnesota, Greece. Later, she finds Dani sticking her tongue out, spinning like a deranged nun out of musical, sitting quietly in a cafe with a small cup of coffee warming her hands. Dani, stiff-shouldered and trying not to laugh as Jamie made faces the one time they ever ventured back to Iowa. Dani, hair blowing back into her face, arms looped around Jamie at a terrifying, exhilarating first Pride parade.

And, in the back, the photos of Dani as only Jamie knew her. The sly grin a second before pinning Jamie to the couch. The sweet surprise from Jamie coming home early with dinner. Shot after shot of no make-up, or smudged eyeliner, or ruined lipstick, of Dani in pajamas on Christmas, or Dani in bed after a shower, or Dani laughing herself silly at nothing Jamie can remember now.

They’re all here, and they’re all Dani--all of Dani Jamie’s got left now--and still, they’re wrong. They sit, plastic and unyielding, beneath flimsy protective sheets, and they don’t laugh like Dani, don’t breathe out against her skin like Dani, don’t smell like Dani’s shampoo or swear like Dani tripping over a shoe in the dark or look at her with that solid, palpable love like Dani did and should still and never will again.

Jamie sits, album in her lap, staring down at Dani with paint smudged on her cheek and their then-new bedroom behind her, and suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. Had she known? Somewhere in the back of her mind that day in a gas station, picking up a little yellow disposable camera, had she known that one day, this would be all she had left of Dani? Surely not. Surely, she hadn’t believed it would go this way, all the way back then. Surely, it was one day at a time, and we’ll have time, and any day with you, Poppins.

Had she known? No. No, of course she hadn’t.

And yet, the idea of not having these in front of her--the idea of Dani’s face slowly, surely, washing away over time as Jamie fails to find her in a world so uncompromisingly cruel...

She touches a shot of Dani with her left hand covering her mouth, her ring gleaming gold against her smile, the day the state had legalized civil unions. Dani as gold as sunshine, in one of the last truly clean moments, before old ghost stories dug rotting fingers into their life. Her vision grays, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up.

She hadn’t known. But she’s glad. She’s glad she has, at least, this much to hang on to.

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #put it on the list of stuff you can blame jess for #as with everything I have ever written I thought it was going one way and then it did something else

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