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aurora-starwars · 10 months ago

Note

Oh my gosh your requests are open! I’m so hyped. Can I maybe request like a Dad! Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader where reader is just so much like Tsu’tey, stubborn and always spites him but they still get along? I can picture Jake missing his na’vi brother and his daughter is just him all over again. I mostly think of Ghost by Justin Bieber to be Jake trying to relive the short time that him and Tsu’tey get along.

Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Daughter!reader (platonic)

Summary: Jake can’t stop seeing Tsu’tey in his oldest daughter

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentioned violence, like one or two curse words

Word Bank: Kuru - Neural Queue; Olo'eyktan - Leader of the clan; Ikran - banshee, large flying animal; Iknimaya - rite of passage for the Omatikaya; Omatikaya - na’vi clan on Pandora; Pa’li - direhorse, horse like animal; skxawng - moron, idiot;

A/n: It has been a while, and for that I am truely sorry, life just kept sweeping me away. But I enjoyed writing this! Thank you for requesting! Please enjoy!!!!!!! <333333333333

Masterlist

As soon as she was born, her yellow eyes seemed to pierce Jake Sully’s just as Tsu’tey’s used to.

Born alongside Neteyam, [Name] bore the distinct features of the Na’vi. Kuru starting at the top of her head, prominent lack of eyebrow, three fingers. All features he should associate with his mate, Neytiri, the mother of the twins. But as Jake watches her grow, he can’t help but see his fallen Na’vi brother.

Jake thought it would fade away, that it was something from his past haunting him and his daughter didn’t actually look like the reincarnate of Tsu’tey at all. Besides, if he were to see Tsu’tey in anyone, surely it would be his remarkably Na’vi son, who bore many of the same traits of his sister. But as they grew, Jake and Neytiri both could see just how similar [Name] and Tsu’tey actually were.

It started early, when they were teaching Neteyam, Kiri, and [Name] to walk, a fairly simple and necessary step for any child. This didn’t stop little [Name], who was a little less than a year old, from being stubborn. Neytiri and Jake started by holding their arms, lifting them up onto their feet so that they could stand. When they could stand, they would let go, moving away slightly in hopes they would follow. The ‘they’ was just Kiri and Neteyam. When they tried to help [Name], she only swatted her hand away and pouted, giving the most hateful glare one could receive.

Regretfully, Jake laughed at this, earning a smack to the shoulder from Neytiri. How could he not have though? [Name] looked just like Tsu’tey like that, acted like him too. Jake smiled fondly at his oldest daughter, who soon after tried to stand on her own, feeling left out from her siblings.

Another time Jake saw Tsu’tey in [Name] was when he was teaching [Name] and Neteyam how to hunt. They weren’t very old, five or six max, and they still had a lot of learning to do. This, however, did not stop [Name] from trying to teach Neteyam how to use a bow, despite hardly knowing how to use one herself. It was day three of teaching the kids and [Name] was on Neteyam’s back about his posture. She kept hitting his belly, telling him that he had to tighten his muscles, hitting his arm, telling him to raise his elbow. While she was right, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, how many times did Tsu’tey mock and criticize his form? Too many to count.

By the time Jake came to the present, Neteyam had half-heartedly thrown his bow down, huffing in frustration before running up to Jake and hugging his leg.

“[Name] is making fun of me!” Neteyam’s weak voice whined.

“It’s not my fault you suck!” [Name] laughed, her small hands on her hips.

Ever since then, [Name] seemed to beat out Neteyam in every subject. In skill, she beat all of the young warriors her age. She was quickly becoming one of the best warriors of her age, of the clan! Jake was more than proud. Proud of not only his daughter’s success, but just how Na’vi she has become. Na’vi, just like the most Na’vi person he knew.

Tsu’tey.

No matter where she went, [Name] would always remind Jake of Tsu’tey. Remind him of when they got along. And when they didn’t.

Like the day after her Iknimaya.

Jake knew he shouldn’t be worried, she wouldn’t be alone, and yet he did not want her to go out riding ikran with her friends. Her friends where nice kids, all warriors like her, that he has taught, but she just bonded with her ikran, the bond was new, and he did not trust [Name]’s ikran just yet. He remembers Bob, it took a few days, at least a week for them to completely trust each other. He did not want [Name]’s ikran to get spooked by something and leave her for dead.

[Name] did not take this news very well.

She was just leaving their family home, a wide smile on her face, when Jake stopped her. He knew she was so excited to attempt her Iknimaya and was even more proud to have successfully bonded with her own ikran. That is why he was not surprised to see her smile fall, her ears pin back, and shoulders slump.

“What? Why?” she wasn’t unreasonable, if her father had a good reason, she would respect his commands.

“Baby girl, I have said you cannot go, do not argue with me,” unfortunately Jake was not great at communicating.

[Name] gave him a piercing glare, shooting daggers that seemed to wound Jake immediately. But he could not show it, would not show it. He is the Olo'eyktan, he must act like it.

But does not stop the pained look that washes over his face once she had walked away.

Later that night, Neytiri scolded him lightly for preventing [Name] from enjoying time kids her age for once, instead of taking care of her siblings or training. While Jake was still apprehensive about the situation, feeling as if his fears were justified, he felt his rules might have been too strict this time.

It was good timing for this resolution because not even an hour later, [Name] arrived back to the family hut, having been gone all night riding her ikran with her friends.

Jake stood up immediately, making his way to the entrance of their home, waiting for [Name]’s eyes to meet his. When they did, [Name] seemed to have more composure than him, he almost felt threatened by her eyes. As if he was the one to do something wrong, not her.

“Where have you been? I thought you were with your siblings?” Jake was more than confused, was she not just sleeping in her room with her siblings?

“Dad, we both knew where I was, no need to do this,” she did not seem angry, but she did stand her ground like the grown warrior she was becoming.

“Do not worry, Father. I have been watching the others,” Neteyam remarks, walking out of the Sully kid’s shared room.

He lays a hand on his father’s shoulder, “If anyone can go out alone on ikran and be fine, it is my sister. If anything, she was protecting the others, and you know they fight well.”

Jake smiles at his son, patting the hand on his shoulder. Jake nods, looking down as if thinking before looking back up at his daughter. He smiles at her, extending a hand, an invitation.

Her piercing gaze drops, her smile reaching her face again as she breaks out into a warm laugh, taking her father’s hand. Jake pulls his daughter and son closer, bringing them into his chest, where they rest their heads.

Later that night, all Jake can think about is how [Name] seemed just like Tsu’tey in that moment.

Tsu’tey patted Jake on the back, a harsh sort of pat, one you would give if you secretly wanted to do harm to the other.

“Jakesully, you do not understand our ways, you will never be one of us,” as much as his words sounded serious, with the smile on his face and the light tone in his voice told Jake that this was more affectionate than hostile.

Jake aimed his bow again, taking in a deep breath, eyes locking onto the makeshift target. He sucked in his stomach, raised his elbow and let go.

“Ah, pretty good,” Tsu’tey nodded, looking at the bulleye. “For a dreamwalker,” he teased, playfully smacking Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noted Tsu’tey’s smile was light, out of character for the Na’vi who usually wore a piercing glare around him. The smile was unusual but welcomed and only helped Jake prove to himself that he was, in face, becoming one of the people.

But what really sealed the deal for Jake, was when he assigned Lo’ak, Neteyam, and [Name] as look out for Lo’ak’s first mission.

He only let Lo’ak join because he had become awfully annoying with his pestering. Always on about how if [Name] and Neteyam could go, why couldn’t he? Jake figured that Lo’ak would lose interest or get too scared to do anymore if he let him join. How wrong he was.

Lo’ak was a pain in the ass as always, and Neteyam and [Name] were doing their best to keep him inline. The whole way to the checkpoint was full of non-stop chatter and jokes about how he was going to destroy the RDA, how he was going to beat them all up all on his own. [Name] though her eyes might get stuck with the amount her eyes would roll.

“Lo’ak, shut your damn mouth or I will tell mum what you keep in that basket in our room,” [Name] practically barks.

Lo’ak goes quiet, and [Name] can see the purple of his cheeks, even from where she is on her ikran. Neteyam smiles at her, and she takes that as a thanks.

The problem came when they arrived at the checkpoint, bombs went off, the train went off track, and Lo’ak decided he wanted a piece of the action, diving his ikran in the direction of the pa’li riders.

[Name] just held her hand up at Neteyam, telling him to keep on look out, and she dove to join her youngest brother.

When she landed, she found Lo’ak holding a gun, letting out a battle cry.

“Lo’ak!” [Name] came running, eyes dark and her ears pinned, straight for Lo’ak.

“Put that thing down,” she ordered, shoving the gun into someone else’s arms. “Today is not the day to be a skxawng, let’s go,” [Name] grabbed him by the ear and dragged him back to his ikran.

Jake watched this from where he was stationed, feeling a glimmer of pride for his daughter in his chest and a sparkle of deep annoyance for his son. But he was left little time to think before Neteyam warned him of an incoming RDA aircraft.

When they made it back to base, the three young warriors lined up, all three practically unscathed but their sisters still came and checked on them.

Jake looked into his eldest daughter’s eyes, he saw a warrior, a warrior that cared for her loved ones, one that did not take BS. He saw Tsu’tey. His na’vi brother. He looked into her eyes, yellow eyes filled with focus and determination, and he brought his hand from his forehead downwards in a smooth motion.

“I see you, daughter.”

Master-list

A/n: Thank you so much for reading! My requests are open so please feel free to request! <3333333

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @adrunkskeletonsduck @luvlykrispy @tainted-artist4161 @gamorxa @valentineheartzz @nighttimemoonlover

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deathbxnny · 6 months ago

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hello, aventurine blade and jing yuan with a teen reader thats like lynette from gi? (please do include lynette‘s backstory as well) :3

Hello there, Anon!! Thank you for the request, and I hope you'll like it!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, vague non-descriptive mentions of past child abuse/kidnapping, reader is a young teen, characters are older brother/father figures, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》AVENTURINE

You and Aventurine found a lot of similarities in eachothers pasts, mainly because you knew how it felt like to suffer at the hands of greedy nobles. He saw a younger him in you, which made him initially, therefore, take you in when you first arrived in the IPC. You were quiet and extremely reserved at the beginning, which he respected in his own slightly teasing way.

He knew his patience eventually paid off when you'd ask him to join you for some tea, where you'd open up about your favorite books or interests. He'd calmly listen to you whilst enjoying that rare moment of relaxation you gave him.

He definitely also teaches you card tricks once he finds out about your little magician's assistant gig you had going on. Aventurine finds a sense of pride in watching you master new skills taught by him, as he silently wonders if all he does for you is enough to set you on the path of having a good life one day. Even if it is one without him around to guide you anymore.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan doesn't pry about your past more than what was necessary. You were brought to him after you killed the noble that had abused you, and at the sight of your rather young age, he decided that taking you in was a good idea. He didn't mind how cold and reserved you were to him, he was a patient man and had all the time in the world for you.

He eventually began inviting you for tea, where you'd play chess together and speak about topics he slowly found out you were perhaps into. Jing Yuan also definitely made you hang out with Yanqing as well, figuring that having someone of your age around would be helpful. And despite both of you being annoyed by it at first, you two grew to be a very strong team together.

The general makes sure you know that you can always rely on him if your past haunts you. He's not going anywhere and neither are you.

(He definitely also pats your head often, unable to hide his secret cuteness aggression from how adorable your cat ears and tail was. He finds your deadpans funny.)

》BLADE

Blade didn't care about where you were from or what made you end up joining the Stellaron hunters in the first place. You were uninteresting, just another kid with a dark past... until you were assigned to work for him, and he therefore became somewhat of your caretaker. Neither of you was thrilled, but you learned to move on and deal with it slowly. Your past was only brought up once, and despite being seemingly indifferent to it, Blade was somewhat impressed by how you were still able to be so calm and collected after all of it. It made him somewhat... easier on you.

As time went on, both of you grew closer as mentor and student in a way, both of you knowing that you can rely on the other when things got bad. He kept your back clear, and you kept his clear. That was the silent deal you struck. Blade definitely trained you to become a master assassin as well, figuring that you'd need it if you wanted to survive in this world. He didn't care if he had to be a bit sterner or even colder, but he knew you'd thank him one day.

Eventually, life would make you part ways one way or another. Whether it was through him finally being relieved of his cursed burdens or you moving on from him as a mentor, he knew it would come to an end. But until then, he figured your company wasn't too bad, as he simply decided to keep being your teacher until fate said otherwise.

Alrighttt!! I'm sorry this took so long, but as everyone knows, life sucks. Anyhow, I hope this was okay, Anon, and thank you again for the request!!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #blade #aventurine #jing yuan #star rail

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bluetooththereptile · 11 months ago

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The heir

(yandere Thomas Wayne x male reader x potential yandere Bruce Wayne)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: You never belonged to the world of what would be called by the dimension travelers, the earth 2. You never wanted to end up in the hands of a violent grumpy old man that seemed oh so lonely,but you did and you have build yourself a life by his side, but everything is about to change, and your old man Thomas, wouldn't like it at all.

Tw: mentions of abuse,violence,injuries and unhealthy yandere tendencies.

"For God's sake old man, just take tonight off!" You groaned as you tried to stop Thomas from putting his suit on, the argument had been going on for the past 15 minutes and he had been trying to ignore you, the old bat gave you a side eye glare, the usual response, but you knew it wasn't harsh, he could never be harsh with you, not anymore. He still regretted the day he had slapped you all those years ago, the image of your teary eyes was etched in his memory and nearly as haunting as the memory of Bruce's death. Thomas finally grunted in your response "Leave me be kid".

But you were determined to make him take tonight off, he deserved to rest and take his mind off of the worries of the bleak world out there, you didn't like to see him in that state, nearly drunk and wrecked, it was the night of Bruce's death, and you hated the fact that no matter how much you tried to make him feel better, every year this night He'd be in shambles. You had one solution left, something risky that you knew would cos some problems with you and Thomas, you dragged in a breath "Dad..." Thomas visibly stiffened, you knew how much you calling him by that meant to him and whenever you did so he'd become overbearingly protective of you for the following days days. You did it all the time when you were in your preteens unknowingly feeding into the melting pot of his emotions, but when you started to grow up it turned into something reserved for the most vulnerable situations between you two, a strategy that you'd use for rare occasions "Please, dad...take tonight off..." you said as you put your hand on his shoulder.

"You know I can't..." his tone was now softer, it had worked! You sighed "I know, I know but going out won't help either, take a pill and sleep, I promise nothing will go wrong, I and the boys can handle it" with mentioning the boys Thomas sighed, rubbing his temple, he was considering your words, it progressed!...who would have imagined that you had managed to convince Thomas to take in more sidekicks, something that had started with you befriending a lost boy in one of your patrols had ended up with Thomas surrounding himself with lost but talented boys that would help him in both his duty as batman, and his situation as a father who still tried to heal. It was you who had proved to him that he could take in more, you had given him a new drive.

Thomas turned towards you, his blue eyes softening slightly, you had grown so much in the past decade, from the whimpering child that had ended up on the steps of the Wayne Manor, talking about another world and crying for his dead son, Bruce, who had adopted you in your world, to a capable man, someone that had whipped both the Wayne Manor and Wayne industries into shape and became a solace to his mind. He knew he wasn't a good father figure to you, always smelling of alcohol and busy with work, but you stuck to him like an annoying little sticky patch, but he'd be damned if he'd let this little patch be removed from his side.

"You don't take no for an answer do you?" A remnant of a smirk was on his lips "I've learnt from you" you teased with a chuckle. Thomas surprisingly, after half an hour of persuasion, gave in, putting his cowl back into the wardrobe. It already showed the amount of trust he had in you. "If anything goes wrong you know the consequences" he softly scolded and you only smirked at him, making him roll his eyes slightly, you were always like this.

Watching him walk out of the cave you turned back to put your suit on but then froze at the sight of the five boys standing there with large grins "Shhh..." you hushed them before they could rejoice, you finally had convinced Thomas! The boys let out silent shouts of victory as they strangled each other in the heat of excitement, you couldn't help but laugh. You had grown to see them as your brothers, life in Manor with them wasn't easy, but it was much better than the darkness that had surrounded you and Thomas's life in your first years with him. You had taken the role of the eldest sibling seriously, helping the boys with their training, studies, and lives and here you were, looking at them in their respective suits. Brothers, true brothers.

"You already know where your areas of patrols are don't you?" You spoke as you put your suit on, it was identical to Thomas's, but without a cape, the news had given you the name Shadow Hunter after you had started your role as a more aggressive vigilante, turning from bat boy to your own hero. The boys nodded, arguing with you wasn't worth it, when Y/N would say something it was absolute. Not that the boys didn't understand that you knew what you were doing, it was just that they had their preferences, but you didn't budge.

Two of the boys were now old enough to find their paths but they had chosen to stay, you were a family, a very tight-knit one at that, even if it didn't show. You cared for them greatly "Don't get into trouble" you warned them, reaching to fix their masks and examine their belts and gadgets, they groaned and nagged, calling you their nanny, but you were responsible for them and you didn't want to see them get hurt.

...

"Patrolling alone again?" Cyborg's voice made you roll your eyes mentally. You Had hoped your patrol would be silent and peaceful so you'd go back soon, but apparently, it wouldn't happen. You turned to meet him as he walked towards you, he was always the closest thing you had as the cool uncle figure for you and the boys, but sometimes he went on your nerves, why? you didn't know, it seemed Thomas's grumpiness had influenced you as well. "Old man's taken a day off" you spoke flatly as you paced on top of the roof of the building you were standing on. "How are you Batboy?" He teased, making you give him a soft glare, chuckling in response. It was an old joke now, you were batboy for so long that the veterans in the field still called you by that. After the chuckle defused you sighed and crossed your arms on your chest, looking at a commercial board as you drifted into your thoughts, something inside you made you feel this rather peaceful night was just a calm before the storm, you kept the comms open so if anything was going to happen, you'd hear the boys.

You looked at your shadow cast on the rooftop, tall and board-shouldered, 20 years had passed, a lifetime in a world you didn't belong to. You didn't know but in your original world you were technically the very first Robin of Batman, Bruce hadn't spoken of you since you were pushed into another dimension by the mad scientist that you and Bruce had tried to stop, thinking you were lost in time and space, technically dead. You were only with Bruce for six months, two years before he took Dick in. You were nine and lost in a much darker world. You didn't blame Bruce, actually, you hardly thought of him or your original world, there you were an orphan, unwanted, here, even if it wasn't easy, you had your own family and friends.

Why Thomas took you in though? Suddenly the question popped into your head, making you narrow your eyes at the thought. You didn't know why, Thomas was a very hard man to deal with from the start, his mental space wasn't right at all, and it still was not in a good shape either, perhaps because he had lost a son and now another boy close to Bruce's age at the time of his death had appeared out of nowhere he kept you. Abusive for the first few years, angry and drunk for nearly all the time, you were afraid of Thomas when you were younger, but still you stuck by his side, taking it his tough love, you didn't have any options.

But before you both could figure everything out, things changed after that incident, you had gotten into a fight and it had nearly caused your death, Thomas had slapped you so hard that you fell on the ground, looking up at him with teary eyes. After that Thomas changed, he became more patient with you, took in more boys, and soon the name Wayne was plastered on your ID card, and you had ended up following the path of the semi-CEO of the Wayne industries, the heir of legacies of Batman and Thomas Wayne.

The hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. "As usual lost in your thoughts eh?" You shrugged at cyborg, making him smile "I give the right to do so" he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly "Being bat's boy isn't easy..." he said, pointing at the scar on your jaw, Thomas once had beat you so hard that it's scar's place didn't heal completely. You smiled slightly at that "I'm not complaining" you responded, You had forgiven Thomas a long time ago, he had tried his best to take care of you and the boys, and well, even if it wasn't the best parenting you still appreciated. Cyborg opened his mouth to speak but then paused as he got a signal, giving you an apologetic smile he left you alone, before you could say something the comms in your cowl started talking, it was one of the boys "There is a mess, we need backup!"

....

Spent you and the boys sat on a long bench, groaning in unison. The amount of thugs you all had beaten was too much to even count. "That's a new record," one of the boys said as he stretched "I don't know about you but I think I've dislocated a finger" another joked "Should we get something from Five Guys?" "Yep," you all said in unison. You looked at your brothers with a smile, even if you all were covered in bruises and some specks of blood, but still, it was the most precious moment that you could have, your life wasn't easy, but they made it more tolerating.

You chuckled as you watched them interact, but you couldn't help the tugging in your heart, something wasn't right, but what? What?! You stood up and walked to your motorcycle but before you could reach it you felt like everything around you distorted, even the voices of your brothers, but before you could turn around and call for them a force pulled you into oblivion, it was a familiar feeling, something that you had felt years ago. And when you ended up in front of a man wearing that Batman suit and a few others, you knew you were in a different world.

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wonderlandwalker · 10 months ago

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Frozen Solid | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Your past is haunting you, but Finnick is there to remind you it's going to be okay

Content Warnings/Tags: Nightmares, trauma, ANGST, character death, happy ending though dw, hypothermia, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested by Anon: Do you think you could do something fluffy with Finnick Odair x Víctor! Reader where the readers games were in the extreme cold and they say something like “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again” to Finnick

A/N: Please send me more requests! I am dying to keep writing but I don't have any more ideas. Also my spell check keeps telling me it's 'realized' not 'realised' and now I'm doubting my entire knowledge of the English language. Did not read this after writing it so praying my brain worked properly

To say the games left you with issues would be an understatement. But this particular memory always seemed to keep haunting you. Maybe that was because this had happened before you taught yourself to close yourself off from your problems. Maybe it was because you hadn't figured out how to find closure yet.

Maybe it was because you were still afraid. Afraid of the tribute towering over you. Even though you weren't a kid that hadn't hit your grow spurt anymore. Even though you weren't that defenseless, innocent child anymore. The tribute was still bigger, and simply the memories made you feel powerless.

The familiar trees surrounded you, but they didn't make you feel safe like they used to before. A layer of snow covered the leaves like a warm blanket, except it was anything but. You were shivering, trembling, not sure which one. So you ran, your fight or flight instincts trying to contradict the memory

So you ran from the man who had said he would help you. You ran from your problem. You ran from your fear.

But it didn't work, it never did. You ran out of the forest, but before you even realized, you were right back inside. Every time you ran you just got stuck again. But they were all different spots. All the ones where you had camped for the night, all the places where you sat silently, too scared to light a fire to warm yourself, not willing to take the risk of eating any food that needed cooking. They all made their way into your imagination, but they all had one thing in common, they made you feel afraid. For most, you thought, childhood memories should resemble a sense of ease, of making you feel secure.

But that feeling had disappeared for you when you first entered the arena. You could still see it in front of you as if it was a crystal clear picture. Your platform had come to a stop, and at first, you were blinded by the light, the bright sun. Your mind had tricked you into thinking the sun meant warmth, and comfort. But when your eyes adjusted, and you saw the frozen lake you were placed over. You saw the cornucopia, on a frosted island in the middle. It had weapons and food, but most importantly, it had thick coats and fur blankets. You wonder sometimes if you should have gotten one, if it would have helped you, but the risk was too great, so once you heard the canon, you immediately ran in the opposite direction, for the forest behind you.

The first thing you did was look for a freshwater source, but everything, everything, was frozen. When you had become desperate, you had started to punch a hole into the thick ice. It took a long time before you broke through the surface, your hands weren't strong enough, but you didn't give up. There was a small crack, and it gave you hope to continue. When you had managed to get to the water, your knuckles were bleeding, and you could see bruises starting to form. But it didn't matter. You had done it. You cupped your hands into the water and felt the cold come over them once again. It was soothing, in a way. Your hands had become warm from the strain, but it was the first time you had felt any sense of warmth since you entered, so you were disappointed to lose it.

You brought the water to your lips, and took a sip from it. You could feel it course through your body, and while it satisfied your thirst, it felt as if there was ice inside your veins. You had been cold up to now, but it was nothing compared to this. You could feel your insides losing temperature from the icy water.

You saw him walking your way, and even if you tried to forget, you could see his face in so many details. From his freckles that you had always admired to the dark look that filled his eyes as he came closer

You knew there was no use in running, but you still did, not wanting to confront him, having avoided doing so for as long as you can now remember. But all it did was pull you back into the forest.

He came from the same district as you, he had said you reminded him of his little sister, and he had offered a pact. You still weren't sure why, you didn't have much to offer him. But now you guess it must have been his own memories, his own innocence wanting to help the girl that you made him think of, made him think there was still good left in him. And so you accepted, and in a way, you were grateful, because you never would have won without him, but the turmoil that stuck with you was heartbreaking. Maybe it would have been easier if it had all been over then.

He was still walking towards you, and even though he wasn't saying a word, you could tell what was going on inside his head. You could see it by the way he walked, how his arms stayed tightly next to his body. You could even hear him yelling at you in your head.

You walked backwards until you hit one of the trees. You started calling out for help, even though you were fully aware no one would come. There was no one else left. You screamed, asking for someone to help you, and the fear made your voice shiver. You knew it was the fear this time. Your body had stopped shaking from the cold after a few days. You had thought that was it, your body had given up, the cold finally having overpowered it.

You stood up, scrambling to your feet. For once, you felt warm again, you felt the blood dilating your vessels, but you knew better than to get hope. You have seen this. You had seen this in other tributes. Your body making a last attempt to warm you up, giving you a boost of power right before it would all be over. In a way you were grateful, it would finally be over. You didn't even want to win anymore, you just wanted to be warm.

But your instincts still told you to run, and with the extra energy coursing through you, you did.

You ran to the frozen lake, to where it had all begun, it was the only thing you could think of to go to. You ran, you ran until could no longer even feel your legs moving. He followed behind you, of course he did. He was close behind, but you were smaller, you were leaner, and you might not have as much stamina, but when it came to a fast sprint you could only just outrun him. You didn't even watch where you were going anymore. The more you ran, the colder you started to feel again. You wanted to stop, to not lose any more. To keep this little bit you had been given, but you weren't sure it would even stay if you did.

The trees started to disappear, and before you knew it, you were on the lake. When you had first gotten here, the lake had seemed peaceful, tranquil. But now, it was nothing short of a battlefield. The bodies might have been taken away, but the blood still stained the ice, and the axes and spears still stuck out of it like weeds disturbing the carefully crafted landscape.

You ran as far as your fleeting body could carry you. You felt it before you saw it. Ice freezing cold. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't a haven to be at peace, it was even colder than you had been. Your clothes were clinging to your body like the blankets of snow you had first noticed. Your hair was stuck to your forehead and your neck.

You remember in the beginning, when you would run, and you would sweat. It was the first time you had carefully appreciated it in your life, the warm droplets gracing your skin. But not anymore, if your body even had the energy to sweat, it was cold, it stuck to you like the first rain of autumn. The brisk wind in combination only making you shiver more.

So you opened your eyes, if this was the end you had hoped for, you didn't want it anymore. You opened your eyes and focused on your senses. You saw the lake, but it had risen. You had fallen in it. You looked around you and saw the cracks in the frozen surface.

The fights, the violence, it hadn't just taken a toll on you. The ice was suffering just as much. It was hard to see from the snow that covered it, but from where you were, you could see it from the footsteps that had disturbed it. You looked behind you, and you saw him again. He had seen you fall in, and halted. You could see relief come over him. Relief that he wouldn't be the one to have to kill you, that the water would do it for him. You almost felt bad for him, he hadn't wanted any of this either. And if you had been in his situation, you weren't sure you wouldn't have done the same thing.

But the water was your friend, at least it used to be.

In your district, you grew up surrounded by it. Going to the sea in the summer, swimming until the sun went down. You remember you used to get so cold when it disappeared and you were left on the beach alone. But now you longed for it.

So you swam, you swam until you felt your hands meet the solid surface of ice again. You had been light before you came here, the lack of food taking a toll on everyone you know, but it was worse now. The only thing you knew how to get was fish. You knew how to fish, but anything else you had counted on was not there. There were no berries on trees, there were no plants that could survive in this environment. And so your frame had become even slimmer. Your arms were trembling as you tried to lift yourself. You weren't sure if you would manage. This couldn't be the end. If it ended like this, your body would float away in the water like the ice that was floating on it, and you would always be cold.

With a surge of motivation, you lifted yourself onto the surface and as soon as you did you fell down on your back. You looked up, thinking you had done it, you could rest now. You looked up at the sky, the sun was there, but you didn't trust it anymore.

You heard something else move, and it made your head snap up. He was still there.

He considered his steps, he couldn't reach you from where he was. But it was just the two of you, and something had to give. So he walked around the hole you had fallen into. He traced around it. He stood in the footsteps that had already been placed in the snow.

But you didn't care anymore. You had gotten yourself out of the water, and you laid your head back down, looking back at the sun. Trying to recall the memories it held. But you couldn't feel it anymore, you couldn't feel the radiating heat. So you made peace with being cold, at least it would be over soon.

If he had left you be, your body probably would have given up before his did. But he wanted it to be over too, he didn't want to wait any longer. He took another step, and you could hear the crack that echoed through the empty space. You looked at him, and you saw him realising his mistake as it happened. The footsteps had looked like a path, but really, they were weak spots. The steps had caused the ice strain, and it had decided it had had enough.

The cracking sound continued, until you could see the ice start to get lopsided. It started to slide towards the open water you had fallen into. You could see his eyes plead, he had convinced himself he had already won, and he was watching all his hopes disappear with one shift of snow. He fell in the water, but he wasn't friends with it. He trashed and tried to move forward, but his body was too broad, and all it did was exhaust him further. You wanted to reach out for him, to help him. You knew the cold that engulfed the water and you didn't want him to die that way. But all it would do was drag you in with him, and you found yourself watching. You watched him as his head sank under, you kept watching as if he'd come back out. You watched until you heard the last canon.

It made you feel even colder. You thought it was over. But you could feel your heart stop, it didn't stop beating, it stopped giving you warmth. The last piece you had, had sunken down with him. Your head was filled with panic. You would never feel warm again, you don't think your body knew how to anymore, and your mind was too frozen over to even try. And just as you felt your heart slow down, just as you thought you would die in this permanent state of despair, you heard a voice calling out to you

It sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. It felt like a star calling to you, telling you to follow it into the sky, to fly, to be free, free of this fear.

It told you to wake up.

Before you knew it the smell of pine left you, being replaced with a mix of sea salt and jasmine, it smelt like home

You felt someone shaking you lightly, and you realised the smell wasn't bound to your surroundings, but the person that was next to you.

"Sweetheart, you need to wake up, you keep shaking." He told you in a sleepy, but still gentle voice.

As you started to get a better concept of your environment, you realised that in your distraught state, you had woken him up.

"I didn't mean to wake you I'm sorry, I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." You said, guilt already entering your mind.

"Hey, look at me, don't you dare apologise" He looked at you as if your worry pained him, and you couldn't stop the next words from leaving you.

"I'm scared I'll never be warm again Finnick" You started to cry, and he took you into his arms.

"If you're having nightmares, I will stay up with you until the sun rises again." He smiled down at you. And that's when you realized, he wasn't a star in the sky, he was the sun, he was your sun. His smile warmed you, and his arms around you made you believe again. He was your sun, and as long as you had him, he would warm you.

#finnick odair fic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick angst #finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #angst #fluff

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blingblong55 · 9 months ago

Text

Christmas Kids-Simon "Ghost" Riley

Not a request but this idea is inspired by @suimon 's post ---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship, fluff, comfort?, childhood best friend!Simon, civilian!reader ---- also this specific verse from christmas kids you'll change your name or change your mind / and leave this fucked up place behind / but i'll know, i'll know is SOOOOOOO childhood friends with simon coded. especially when you see him again after years and years thinking he died with his family

A/N: Simon is 35 in this and you're 34...and it might be slightly different from this idea

It's been twelve years since you last saw Simon. Two teens, Manchester and some booze. That is the last thing and place you remember from that night.

You and him met because of your mums, they went to the same schools and so did Simon and you. It was like a movie, two best friends who have known each other since birth. Now all you have of him is a faint memory. He and his family died when you were around 22. It was the news of the city.

"Mum, please tell me this is a lie," you cry and all she does is give you that look. "I'm sorry, love." The tears, the ache in the chest, it's all engraved in you.

A knock on the door at two in the morning.

"Never open the door to strangers," Simon reminds you. "But how will I know it's you?" He chuckles, "I'll use our whistle," he simply says and you nod.

A knock and a whistle at two in the morning. You go pale. No, it can't be, he– he died, he's been dead for so long. Stupid nightmare, get me out of here.

Another whistle, waiting for your response.

You whistle back and get close to the door. You can feel the presence. It's there. He's there. That kid you ran the street with, the guy who took you home after one too many drinks. The stupid jokes and the constant lessons of life. "Simon?"

"Please open, it's cold," his voice hoarse and once that door opens, a flood of memories comes through.

His face is bruised, clothes are torn, blood is on them and the faint smell of his cologne is there. The rain filled the silence of the night. Police cars are in the background and he smiles at you. Once he stepped inside, it was a new man who did it, not your Simon. this man was taller, broader, he had tattoos and well...all that blood and those bags under his eyes.

"You–you were dead, they...they recovered your body and–"

"I faked my death," he was breathless and you guided him to the stool of the kitchen.

When your mum passed away, you were 27, that is when you needed him the most. Who else to give you a shit joke if not him? And now seven years later and here you are, waiting for a shit joke.

"Your dad–"

"I know." he cuts you off. He needs no mention of that man, not ever.

"If you faked your death then, does this mean they are all still alive?"

"No, I couldn't save them," he breaks down, finally.

All this time, he played Ghost. The man, the myth and a persona that everyone saw as a tough and cold man. When he is here, in your presence, he is that 23-year-old who saw his family dead. He is the same man who cried to you. You were home to this soldier, the last home he had. You hug him and in that second, he turns into a child in need of his mummy and need of desperate comfort. For years he has been running away from the past, of that night and you.

To be in the presence of the man he is, that is fear but to be in the home of the one person who knows who he is past the mask, is a nightmare.

"I don't want to!" Simon cried to his father as he got the snake closer to him.

"Dad, stop this isn't right." The same night when he was told to laugh at a woman who had passed out on the floor.

But, you know what they say, Dead will follow, Dead won't leave, Dead won't rise, Dead and Gone all this except Simon Riley, he stays like the ghost he is. Now, he is a man who let all of his terrors catch up to him and as they haunt his head, he clings to you.

In his head, his life flashes. From laughing with Tommy, getting scared by a skull mask, running in the streets with you, leaving Manchester, joining the military, the SAS, getting SA'D, hanging by his rib, crawling from a tomb, having dead friends, having a dead family, Task Force 141 and losing himself to Makarov and now, here he is, crying in a kitchen. If only his father would see him, he'd know his son is nothing but a bastard and a coward.

"Simon?" Your voice breaks his trance and he looks up. "I'm lost, I don't know who I am anymore," he cries and in that instant, you see him. You see his past and the present. A frown forms on your lips, "What did they do to you?" your hands holding his face and all he can do is lean into that touch. "I'm dead, I'm nothing but a senseless killer," was the description he gave himself.

In the world of Simon Joseph Riley, he was nothing but a cold-blooded killer, an apparition of his old self who was only meant to kill.

As the night became morning, he said it all. From when he left to how he found himself at your door. Your heart broke more and more, he was the shell of a man. Nothing but a life of misery left in that stare he gives you. Simon knows he has nothing left for him. You on the other hand are the hidden treasure he left for when needed.

His whole life– well, ever since the death of his family, he's been running away from the shadows and now he's running away from the military. With his captain being called a general killer, his friend Soap dead, and his friend Gaz lost, you are the last thing a man like him has. Tucked in a corner, the faint of the memory, that is what he has.

"Please don't turn me in, they'll hurt me again," he cries. Those tears are not just from his current exhaustion, but from all the years he denied the feeling of regret and sadness. Sure he was forced to go to a therapist but after the first one was killed, who else could he trust?

"I'm scared, I'm so scared," he confesses and for the first time in his life, he does feel fear. He saw the shadow of fear when Soap was nearly caught and possibly killed by Shadow Company but he knows fear when all he has is you and the blood that drips from his wounds. "Simon-"

"I miss them, I miss them all, I missed you and I miss being normal," he cups your face and looks deep into your eyes. "Help me, please...I- I need to find myself again." Suddenly he was back at the park you two grew up in.

"R/N!" His eyes with tears. His father must've scared him again, you thought. "Over here, Simon!" you wave your hand and you see him sigh in relief as he runs to you. His arms wrap around you as he once more confesses how his father hurt him.

"Let's fix you up and maybe we'll head to the park," you suggest and he nods desperately. "Please, yes, let's do that."

Now, three weeks later, you find yourself hiding him from the world. Task Force 141 was deemed as a danger to others.

Simon Joseph "Ghost" Riley, is no longer a danger to himself or others. He stares at the moon as he looks out the window, your cat on his lap, purring because they both found comfort in each other. He knows he lived through it, to get to this moment and he'll do anything to finally call a place home.

A/N: Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers also inspired me, you can tell...

Tags: @fake-id-69 @stick-the-dumbass @uraritychain @aalxrose @prettyoatmeal @elowynnlane @infpt-zylith @dakaraissoisso @homicidal-slvt @honestlyhiswife @madsdawson @joyfulmarvelofavengers @qxclamation @nunezr29 @scoobysnakz @iruzias @vampsquerade @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @nobodys-coffee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

Note

the 'Kon :)' in the list of things you're pleased about in aeiwam has be EXCITED please tell us more (if you want to)!

Soon after Masaki died, Isshin Kurosaki moved his family. It's mostly because the original clinic didn't feel haunted- if Masaki's spirit were still here, Isshin would know what to do, but instead he felt like his heels were dogged by the hole where she used to be.

It didn't hurt that the new place was larger, in a better school district, and closer to his friend Ryukken. He's almost feeling cheerful about the new place when Ichigo runs up the stairs and from room to room before calling dibs on one, because he's a big kid now and doesn't want to sleep where he has to listen to his dad snoring all night >:(.

Isshin felt slightly less cheerful when he looked out the big window in Ichigo's room to determine if he needs to put up some child safety grates, and realized their new neighbor was a taxidermist.

"I feel like it gives them a sort of dignity- A Life After Life, if you will." she said when he went by to make sure his neighbor was only eccentric and not something out of a horror movie. He wasn't entirely sure which, actually- Ms. Tanaka was an octogenarian with skin like tissue paper and a back like a question mark, but her living room was a veritable zoo of reconstituted animals, many of them former pets, if the number of domestic cats was anything to go by.

"Oh. Yeah!" Isshin grinned, terrified, and was struck by the idea of some goon in the 12th division slavering in the afterlife, desperate for her to shuffle off the mortal coil and bring her undoubted skills with dead bodies to R&D. "We've always been very spiritual people."

(Continued under the readmore)

"Oh, just like the nice young man who used to live in your house!" said Ms. Tanaka, sitting down in her armchair that was adorned by an ostentatious past-tense peacock perched on the back. "Odd fellow. Worked nights, spoke like he was born in the Sengoku Era or something, but very nice."

"He's BEAUTIFUL!" said Ichigo, staring in awe at an enormous Ginger Tabby Cat by the window, mounted in repose on a emerald velvet cat bed. Ms. Tanaka had done an excellent job conveying a sense of benevolent egotism on his whiskered face, but Ichigo's growing fascination with the Macabre was beginning to worry his father- Ichigo had seen the taxidermy stoat in the back window and INSISTED on coming along.

"Isn't he?" beamed Ms. Tanaka. "His name is Bostov! He was my very best friend for many years."

"Wow! Can I pet him?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide with delight.

"Ichigo, that's uh- that's not a real kitty-" Isshin began to sputter.

"Of course he's a real kitty!" Ms. Tanaka laughed, a noise like an ungreased gate. "You can pet him if you're very gentle." Ichigo stroked the deceased animal with exceptional delicacy for an overexcited Kindergartner. "He's so soft!" he gasped.

"Do you like him?" asked Ms. Tanaka.

"I LOVE HIM!" Said Ichigo, cheeks flushed and eyes bright for the first time in months now. Perhaps having a distant relative of the Addams family for a neighbor isn't so bad, if her creepy hobby cheers Ichigo up... Isshin sighed.

"In that case, why don't you take him home with you?" Smiled Ms. Tanaka. "I'm sure he'll be a good friend to you too."

"UH." Isshin blurted out, nearly spilling his tea on a flock of quail under the side-table.

"I have SO MANY friends in my home with me- it's bordering on a fire hazard!" Ms. Tanaka chuckled. "I'd be delighted to send him to a home where he'll be loved. Please- consider him my housewarming present!"

"CAN WE? CAN WE TAKE HIM HOME? PLEASE DAD??PLEEEEEEEASE-!!" Ichigo asked, stars in his eyes.

Isshin froze, horrified at the prospect of having... That. In his house. Watching him. ...and at the same time, completely unwilling to dash his little boy's dreams.

"yEaH oKaY." Isshin grimaced, soaked in a cold sweat.

*****

Bostov The Former Cat was bad enough, but at least the taxidermy beast 'lived' on Ichigo's bedroom dresser and not down in the living room where Isshin would have to look at it's green glass eyes, which seemed to follow him around the room. It wasn't right having a hollow thing in the house like that- any wandering spirit could decide to climb in there! He resolved to have it warded, but Kisuke said he was on a trip to the Caribbean for "Botanical Research" , and wouldn't be back until "After the Big Holiday on the 20th". Isshin hung up the phone, groaned and rubbed his face. It was fairly late, and he was still at the kitchen table, going through all of the licensing paperwork to get the clinic up and running.

"Hey Dad?" Ichigo asked, holding up a small plastic toy. "What's 'Soul Candy'?"

"Soul Cand-?" Isshin frowned, turned to look at the toy and nearly jumped out of his skin, swiping it away from the boy. "WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS? DID YOU EAT ANY??"

"...it was upstairs, in the back of my closet." Ichigo pouted. "-and no, I didn't eat any strange closet candy. I'm not stupid."

"Oh thank the Gods..." Isshin sighed, sitting back down at the table and shaking the small, duck-headed pill dispenser. Empty. "-I'm sorry I yelled Ichigo, but this is Very Dangerous stuff."

Ichigo arched an incredulous Eyebrow at him. "Really? Is this the same kind of dangerous that the half my Halloween candy you confiscated and ate was?"

"Ah- well. No. That was Dad Tax. This is actually dangerous. Here, come sit with me a minute." he pulled out the other chair at the kitchen table. "Remember how I told you about the ghost that lived in my attic when I was your age?"

"The Shinigami?" Ichigo asked.

Isshin did not *enjoy* lying to his children, but a little knowledge was a dangerous thing, and not enough even more so, so he'd concocted a little fantasy to explain why he knew all about ghosts and why the children never saw their grandparents, so he could tell them about the dangers of this world without telling them too much.

"That's right- His name was Kaien Shiba, and he was a Soul Reaper. At night, he'd turn into a ghost and leave his body behind, and go escort spirits to the afterlife or fight hollows." Isshin said. he'd named the fictional soul reaper after his favorite nephew in a fit of inspiration- he'd started telling Ichigo a tale from his days as a Shinigami one night after slightly too many drinks and had to convince Ichigo that that was only a distant acquaintance.

"...Like what killed Mom." Ichigo muttered.

"Um. Yeah." Isshin nodded.

They were silent for a moment.

"-Anyway, the way he turned into a ghost was that he'd swallow one of these little candies that would come in these tubes-" Isshin pulled the duck's head back to show Ichigo the mechanism. "-and Poof! he'd jump out of his body as a ghost so he could use magic to save people! But-there was a little soul inside the candy that would come out and take care of his body while he was away! Like a babysitter, but for his own butt! After a few hours, the little soul would stop working, and Kain would be home to climb back in."

Ichigo blinked at the mechanism, thinking. "So. There's a little person in these candies?"

"If there were any in here, yeah." Said Isshin. "They're not like. Whole people. Just little collages of behaviors and phrases. You know, like the fake voice that talks on the phone when you call to refill a prescription!" Ichigo frowned, considering something. "...There weren't any candies in this thing, were there?" Isshin asked, suspicious.

"No." Said Ichigo, frowning at him. "It'd be really lonely, being just a little soul, stuck in a candy, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"I suppose so, but I don't think the little souls are aware while they're in there. It's like being asleep for them." Isshin shrugged, lying to himself as much as his son about that.

Ichigo still frowned. "...What happens if the candy goes into a body without a soul in it? Like a dead body?" "Huh." Isshin frowned. "I dunno, actually. I guess the little soul would run around and operate it for a while, until it faded out, like it did with a normal body?"

Ichigo nodded, still preoccupied.

"Why?" Isshin tried.

"...No reason." Ichigo muttered, kicking his little feet. "Just thinking."

"Alright. Promise me if you find anything else weird or see any random candies to not touch them and tell me right away, okay?"

"Yeah okay." Ichigo nodded, only sort of paying attention. "I'm gonna go to bed. G'night dad." he muttered, getting up from the table and handing the dispenser to Isshin before giving him a quick hug and stomping up the stairs.

Isshin watched him go, aching a bit. I wondered how old he was gonna be when he started keeping secrets from me. He sighed, looking down at the Soul Candy Dispenser. Not that I'm being a Paragon of Honesty for him to follow...

---

"GIRLS? ICHIGO? HAVE ANY OF YOU SEEN MY STETHOSCOPE?" Isshin hollered, searching fruitlessly under the couch cushions.

"NO!" Hollered Karin from where she and Yuzu were playing in the small front yard.

"TRY ICHIGO'S ROOM, HE TOOK A BUNCH OF LAUNDRY UP TO SORT." called Yuzu.

"THANKS GIRLS!" he called back stomping up the stairs. Ichigo was at karate- he'd finally returned to classes, or at least, Tatsuki had finally physically dragged him back into the Dojo. "Man I hope I didn't put it through the washing machine-" he muttered, opening the door to the boy's room and started searching through the basket of laundry on his bed.

Isshin stopped, and stood up, frowning around the room. Something was off.

Ichigo was a tidy boy, somehow, and his room was usually in order save for whatever video game he had out to play and the bed he never made but... Isshin turned fully around trying to figure out what was off before his eyes finally landed on the top of the Dresser.

The Emerald Green Velvet Cat bed, home of Bostov The Cat, was empty.

"Did he take the cat out of the bed to play with?" Isshin wondered aloud, hoping that that, and not several other horrible scenarios, was what was happening. He could hear Karin and Yuzu giggling through the window, and he peeked down at them- they appeared to be having a tea party on the thin strip of grass, and the guest of honor amongst the dolls and stuffed animals was a familiar-looking ginger tabby. "Oh! The GIRLS took him out to play with." he sighed with relief, leaning against the window to watch them.

...and watch a strange man approaching down the street, who stopped at the garden fence. Isshin frowned- maybe he was just watching the girls play, in a normal, wholesome way like he was doing right now. ...or he could be taking candy out of his pocket and waving the girls to come through the gate.

Isshin jumped on the bed, tore open the window with such force it jumoed out of it's track and was halfway out to jump down at the man from the second floor when the most EXTRAORDINARY thing happened.

Bostov, Who by all accounts had been deceased for the better part of a decade and was made of little more than a skin and some glass stretched over a wood-and-cotton frame, Suddenly leapt up from his chair, claws and teeth drawn like swords and leapt upon the man, battering him visciously with a stream of einvective so foul it made Isshin's barrack-hardened linguistic sensibilities blush, before chasing him back down the street like a short, furious, ass-seeking missile.

"GIRLS!" he shouted, jumping down anyway. "-ARE YOU OKAY?"

"DON'T GET MAD AT ICHIGO OR KON!!" Shouted Yuzu, tears in her eyes.

"...ichigo or who?" Isshin blinked.

"Way to spill the beans, Yuzu." Karin groaned. "Yeah Dad, we're FINE- Kon was here, he'll beat the crap out of anything."

"Who's Kon?" Isshin repeated.

"HEY DAD." Shouted Ichigo, skidding into the garden in his karate gi, and out of breath, clutching an unconvincingly stiff Mr. Bostov under his arm. "SO. UH- WELL MR. BOSTOV CAN MOVE NOW. FOR SOME REASON."

"Uh-huh?" Isshin glared at the cat, who glanced away nervously. "Why do you think that is?"

"...it's a Christmas Miracle?" Tried Ichigo.

"Ichigo, it's fucking April." groaned Karin.

"...Passover?" tried Ichigo.

"-This wouldn't have anything to do with that Soul Candy Dispenser you found, would it?"

"uhhhhhhh..." said Ichigo. Honesty might not have been one of the boy's virtues, but at least he was a terrible liar.

"PLEASE DADDY DON'T GET ANGRY!!" Sobbed Yuzu, throwing herself around his calf and wailing. "MR. KON IS THE MOST NICEST KITTY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! HE PLAYS TEA TIME AND DRESS-UP WITH US AND TELLS JOKES AND CHASES AWAY DOGS AND SCARY MEN AND HE ALWAYS WAKES UP ICHIGO WHEN HE'S HAVING A NIGHTMARE-!"

"Yeah, actually, Kon's like. the first thing to make me laugh since. Well." Mumbled Karin, plodding over to Isshin's other leg and leaning heavily on him. "Please? he's weird, but he's a good guy."

Isshin sighed, then glared back down at the cat. "Alright. Who are you?" he demanded.

Ichigo and the formerly immobile cat glanced at each other and the feline unfolded as Ichigo set him down, shaking himself out and sitting on the walkway.

"So, uh- Hi. My name's Kon. Kon Bostov, if you wanna be formal, in honor of the beast whose body I currently inhabit." He nodded, waving a paw evocatively. "-And, uh. Well, how much do you know about the afterlife?"

"-Being from a long line of psychic mediums and prone to hauntings, my parents rented out our attic to a Shinigami when I was a child, and he told me pretty much everything." Said Isshin, and Kon winced. "So. Is 'Kon' short for 'Mod Konpaku'?"

"Ehh... well, Yeah." Kon winced. "-But hey! It wasn't my idea to be cooked up in a lab by some maniac and then put to death minutes later for something I didn't even do!" he snarled, fur bristling.

"What?" asked Karin.

"Kids I- Look, I didn't mean to lie, there just wasn't a good time to bring it up but. Technically, I'm wanted by the law. I'm an artificial soul created for battle to be put into dead bodies, but literally four and a half minutes after I woke up, the soul society- where all the Shinigami are from- condemned me to die, because they didn't like how strong some of the other Mod Souls were. I managed to roll myself off of the table and into a box of normal bodyminders to hide, Got put in a dispenser and then the shinigami that had been here accidentally left me behind." Kon explained.

"COOL!" Shouted Karin.

"NOT COOL. BAD!" Shouted Isshin. "Okay, okay I- I mean you're right, I never- I mean, the way Kaien told it, the whole Mod Soul program was pretty shady and it sounded really unfair. But why would a Shinigami just leave an important and dangerous tool lying around?"

"...I don't know how much spiritual sense you have my guy, but this town doesn't have a Hollow problem so much as the Hollowpocalylse goin' on." Kon grimaced. "-I really hope that guy's okay, he seemed pretty cool from what I could tell. I don't actually remember hearing him get called back to soul society." Kon muttered. "-Anyway, about three weeks ago, your brother found me in the dispenser in the back of his closet and put my candy body into this taxidermy cat, and I've been hanging out with the kids since then! You know, like a cat is supposed to do!"

Isshin stared blankly at Kon. The girls hugged his legs, lips wobbling, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, firming up his resolve- no matter how nice he seemed, a Mod Soul was a dangerous thing- and one crafty enough to live right under his nose for the better part of a month? No, absolutely n-

Isshin opened his eyes to see Ichigo had picked up Kon, cradling the cat to his tiny body, eyes wide and beginning to glisten with tears.

"...Ah. What the hell. You make the kids laugh." Isshin sighed, and all four cheered, thanking him profusely and promising to be extra-good and take good care of Kon- "But you put so much as a Whisker out of line and you're in deep trouble, got it?" Isshin leaned into the cat's face, scowling menacingly and shaking his finger at Kon.

"Understood sir!" Kon Saluted. "So when's dinner? Ichigo's been sneaking me scraps but I could really go for some chicken, or maybe ham-" he asked, tail thrashing excitedly.

"You can eat?" Isshin asked. "I thought you were all... Whatever they stuff taxidermy animals with?"

"-Might've been, but I'm all complete now? Fluff, guts, claws-the works!" Kon shrugged, hopping up on Isshin's shoulder. "-Between you an' me, I ain't even neutered! But that ain't a problem- Plenty of hot pussy around, if you know what I mean, especially that sweet little tuxedo bobtail just up the street- Me-YOW, huh?"

"Oh gods." Groaned Isshin, covering his face. "What am I letting into my house?"

"An intact male cat is called a 'Tom' Dad." Karin called over her shoulder.

"Alright Kon, a few rules- No more swearing in front of the kids, no bringing ladies around the house and for goodness sake DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE HERE!" Isshin snarled at him.

"Alright, alright!" Kon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Out of curiosity though- What rank was your guy Kaien?"

"Hm?" Isshin asked.

"Only that I thought only the captains and a few lieutenants ever knew about project Spearhead." Kon glanced at Isshin, arching an orange-striped brow at him. "-funny thing, having a seated officer doing routine patrols, isn't it?"

"I dunno?" Shrugged Isshin, trying to keep his shoulders from tensing up, "-He didn't actually tell me all that much about how the soul society is governed."

"Huh." Kon nodded, smirking just a bit. "Interestin' guy, this Kaien. You should tell me about him sometime!"

"KOOOOONN!" Yuzu called. "My Dollie's shoe got under the fridge!"

"Coming Sweetie!" Kon called, jumping off Isshin's shoulder to reach his skinny little cat arm under the fridge and swat the missing accessory out from under the appliance. Yuzu applauded with delight and hugged him, laughing for the first time in ages.

Isshin watched them play for a bit and sighed. He not a bad guy, this Kon. All the same- Isshin took out his phone and dialed a number.

"~Urahara Shoten, home of Karkura Town's finest Candies, Cell Phones and Card Games! I'm on sabbatical 'til the end of the month or so, so if it's an emergency, hang up and call the Kurosaki Clinic! Or die! If it's not an emergency, leave me a message with what you need and I'll hook you up when I get back! Bye!~" Urahara's voicemail recording sing-sang over the line.

"Kisuke. It's me, Isshin. You will not fucking believe what my kids found in the new house. Call me as soon as you get back."

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #Isshin Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki #Kisuke Urahara #Kon

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yelenasbitch · 6 days ago

Text

Death's Revival: Chapter 2 and 3

Summary: Natasha's sudden and tragic ending left behind many mourning loved ones, including her wife. Yelena tracked down Clint, and now she's going to meet her sister's wife, only without her sister there to help out. Grief is a process for friends and family, especially when it ends suddenly...

Word Count: 2,624 and 2,328 = 4,952

Warnings: Grief, mentions of death/dying, weight issues, memory issues, etc.

A/N: I wrote this bc this is what happened, and that's only if you believe Thanos was real and not an anxiety induced dream sequence...

Masterlist (coming soon)

Steve keeps Clint up to date about your visits with Yelena, how you look and how you act when she’s there. He’s pleased to hear that the two of you are helping to heal each other, though he’s still concerned over your health, mental and physical.

After he met Yelena, after Christmas and New Years and things returning to normal, Clint reflected on everything. He thinks about Natasha and her sacrifice, of course he does, he’s been thinking about it non-stop since it happened. Thinking about the look in your eyes and on your face when he came back alone and as you had talked to him at her grave. Still, he thinks and thinks during the next few months, his conversations with Steve reminding him of the love and longing that follows his best friend beyond the grave, that haunts his days and nights.

He goes to visit Natasha’s grave again, stands there and thinks about how it’s empty, how she died thousands of miles from home, from anything familiar, from the people she fought and died to save. He remembers the way she told him to let go, knowing that he had children to return to, and while she had you, she couldn't do that to his family. He keeps brooding over her sacrifice until Laura finally makes him talk to her, and her suggestion after four nights in a row of talking things through for hours makes him feel like an idiot for not thinking of it himself.

“Why don’t you just ask the Wizard Guy, Strange, right? Ask him to open up a portal and take her and bury her here? Would that be any better? Maybe?” Laura misses Natasha as well, and cannot explain how grateful and devastated she is about her sacrifice. She knows it was for her and the kids, and feels so guilty and so thankful all at once.

Clint stares at his wife for a few moments and then calls her a genius, running to find his phone. She makes him text Steve first, to talk through his plan, and after he sits for a minute, he thinks it’s a good idea, and agrees to wait and talk not only to Steve but also Sam and Bucky. Still, he falls asleep much easier that night, finally feeling as though he’s finally doing the right thing for his deceased best friend.

Once the three of them have talked, Clint calls Stephen Strange and asks to see him, wanting to make this request in person. He knows it's a big request, but he’s also ready to go toe to toe with this sorcerer in order to get his best friend's body back to earth. In order to give you a sense of closure and maybe get you back to earth as well.

They arrange to meet in the city at some nondescript coffee shop; Clint is wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, trying to remain unnoticed. He thinks wistfully of the days before every man, woman, and child in the world knew who he was and what he looked like. He thinks of past covert missions. He thinks of Budapest. He clears his throat and sips at his terrible coffee.

When Strange shows up, Clint straightens in his seat and waits for him to sit down.

“Well?” And holy shit, Clint remembers why he doesn’t particularly like this man, his arrogance overpowering with just a single word. He reminds himself that he needs a favor from this guy, and calms himself down enough to behave politely.

“I need help, I need a big favor.” Strange just sits there and waits. “I want to go to Vormir, where Natasha—where she—anyway… I want to collect her body and bring it home so we can bury her. Please, I know this is a lot to ask, but her wife is a wreck, and her sister is heartbroken, and I thought it would be nice for them to know, at least, that her body is here, so they can visit her.” He stops, takes a breath to keep going, desperate to persuade him to help, but he’s interrupted by Strange.

“I can try.” He says, and Clint feels a weight lift off his chest. “It’ll take some time to find the right incantation, and I’m not sure that her body will still be there. Sometimes when magic is involved, things get–they don’t work the way you’d think.”

Clint is nodding now, “I understand, I won’t be angry if it doesn’t work, I just have to try.” He also thinks that nothing can be expected now, with aliens and magic and a best friend shaped hole in his life. Still, he keeps going for Natasha and his family and you.

“Fine,” Stephen stands up, “I’ll contact you when I’m ready.”

“Thank you.” And Clint shakes his hand and watches him leave, thinking that after Tony Stark, he shouldn’t be surprised by the depth of human kindness within everyone, even the people you want to punch in the face sometimes.

It’s another month and a half of angst-filled pacing before he finally gets the call that Stephen will be ready in two days, giving him time to prepare. He tells Laura everything, and tells the kids that he’s going into the city to see you and Steve, consoling himself with the fact that it’s not a complete lie, and then packs a bag.

The two of them meet at the compound, sit with Steve for a few minutes, and then they go outside to a private area so he can begin. Clint watches with interest as Strange’s magic sparks into life, creating beautiful and intricate patterns of light and heat. Suddenly it forms a circle and through its growing opening, Clint can see the familiar landscape that haunts his dreams, his every move. Strange looks at him and nods, and they both walk through the opening, going from one planet to another in the blink of an eye.

They’re greeted by the familiar form of Red Skull making his way over to them. They both tense, though Steve said he had been perfectly cordial during their last encounter.

“You’ve returned for her. Finally.” And he turns, beckoning them; they shrug at each other and follow, confused.

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Clint asks after a few minutes of walking.

“Well, I will admit that time passes differently here, but I was surprised when the other one did not take her back with him, and then no one came to collect her. It was especially confusing after watching the two of you fight, not to avoid that fate, but to embrace it.”

“You mean that we could have done this when Steve returned the Stone?” Stephen asks, wanting to clarify things, wanting to know the rules of this magical plane.

“Yes, a soul for a soul, after all.” And before they can ask anything else, he stops in front of an altar that Clint could have sworn was not there ten feet ago.

Natasha Romanoff is laying on top of this strange stone altar, looking as though she’s taking a quick nap. Looking like she might wake up at any moment. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes, though closed, seem to flicker. She even looks like she’s breathing, and–

“IS SHE ALIVE?” Clint screams, or maybe whispers, he can’t even tell right now, rushing forward to grab her hand, her warm hand.

“Well, yes.” Red Skull looks from Clint to Strange, settling on talking to the latter, the one who isn’t fawning over this ordinary woman.

“A soul for a soul. So when the stone was returned–”

“She gets to come back to life?” Stephen asks, and Clint can’t tell if his excitement is due to the fact that Natasha is alive, or because this is fascinating. Probably the second option.

“Then why is she unconscious?” Clint is getting nervous, looking for the catch.

“I was unsure if anyone would come for her, so I kept her asleep. She is perfectly healthy and safe, and she will wake soon after you return to Earth with her.”

Clint shifts, picks Natasha up, and nods to Strange.

“I think it’s time we go home.” He wants to get out of here, wants to check her over back on Earth. Back where he knows she won’t be ripped from his grasp again.

“Yes,” Stephen turns to Red Skull, “thank you. I apologize for intruding and not coming to retrieve her sooner. We didn't know.”

The odd being simply nods and walks a bit away before disappearing.

Stephen opens the portal, and they walk back through, breathing in relief when they’re back on the familiar green grass of the compound under their own blue sky.

“I’m going to take her to medical, can you tell Steve for me?” Clint is already walking as he says all of this, not wanting to waste any time in case something goes wrong with his best friend, who is miraculously back from the dead.

“Of course!” Stephen calls from behind him, and then it’s all a blur.

He arrives at the medical wing and the nurses and doctors converge on her, looking her over and taking her vitals. After a few tests she’s brought to a secure room, Natasha is infamous here for not being very happy to wake up in the hospital. Clint follows from room to room, test to test, texting with his wife and Steve, and finally sitting down in her room after he drags the chair a bit closer to the hospital bed, wanting to stay near her, just in case.

He keeps looking at Natasha lying there, not believing his eyes, and unwilling to blink lest she disappear.

Natasha is still unmoving on the hospital bed, hooked up to all the various and loud machines, but the doctor has assured Clint that she’s stable, in great condition even, considering… Still, she hasn’t woken up, and Clint is getting more and more anxious as time passes. He should’ve made Strange stay with them, either for his magical abilities or his medical knowledge; still, Clint is more grateful than he’ll ever be able to express.

The heart monitor betrays her, beeping rapidly when she begins to regain consciousness, even though she keeps her eyes closed as she automatically assesses her surroundings. Once she realizes that it’s herheart rate riling up the machine, she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. They lock on Clint’s where he’s sitting beside her, frozen.

“So I guess it didn't work, huh?” She speaks first and then he’s crying and smiling and hugging her tightly as she tries to figure out what the hell is happening with him.

“Nat, Natasha, yes, it worked, but you’re home now.” And then he has to stop, tears of relief choking him again.

She looks around the room, confused when she doesn’t see you hovering nearby as well, used to your look of relief and frustration whenever she’d landed herself back here.

“Clint, what the hell happened? If it worked, then I should be dead. And if I’m dead I wouldn’t be in the hospital. What. Happened.”

He takes a breath and curses himself for not thinking this through, in his defense though, he’d simply gone to collect her body, and had come home with an alive but unconscious Natasha Romanoff. Not conducive to clear thinking. And of course she’s already frustrated with him. Typical.

He’s missed it so much.

“Well, you did it,” he starts, pausing at this part, unwilling to say the words, “and I got the soul stone.” He keeps going, describing it all, explaining what Steve did, what happened with Tony, all of it. He also explains how Yelena tried to kill him–Natasha smirks at this and rolls her eyes a bit at her sister’s dramatics. Still, he hasn’t said a word about you, and she’s started getting nervous by the time he’s (almost) caught her up with everything.

“What about her, Clint? What happened to my wife?! Where is she?” and her heart rate spikes again, which makes her angry, and just starts a vicious cycle.

“And get these things OFF of me!” She begins ripping at them, taking it all off, which of course brings in the nurses and starts the various medical questions necessary when someone comes back from the dead without a scratch on them. Even for people who work with the Avengers, it’s a bit weird.

Clint just watches off to the side, racking his brain as he tries to figure out what to tell Natasha, and how to prepare you for your dead wife’s sudden return. When he hears his former partner threaten to stab one of the newer nurses, he steps in, and they’re all done in another thirty minutes. The room empties, and Natasha begins to put on her shoes, preparing to leave; Clint winces and puts a hand out to stop her when she stands to go.

“Nat, we need to talk.” She looks at him sharply and he backtracks immediately.

“She’s fine, her and Yelena both; healthy as horses, really.” Not really, but you’re apparently less corpse-like when Yelena is around and he’s counting that as a win.

“But she was really upset about what happened, obviously we all were, but you know how much she loves you.” He stops and takes a breath, wishing he had his own wife here to help him navigate this messy conversation.

“You promised that you’d watch out for her, and I know you did. Just tell me. Please.” She’s sitting there stone-faced as he continues, and it's one of the hardest things he’s ever done. And he’s been through a lot in the last few years…

“She, well, once we got through the funerals, she just kind of shut down. And she wouldn’t leave the compound, wouldn’t come stay with the family at the farm, no matter how much we begged. She went almost catatonic, Nat, and the only reason she didn’t is because we told her we’d have to move her to a hospital, take her out of your home. Still, it wasn’t good.”

He goes on, describes the conversation he’d had with you at her empty grave, explains how Steve kept an eye on you, Sam and Bucky visiting when they could, and finally he gets to Yelena. He says that he’s heard you eat when she’s there, and spend more than an hour in her company, even if most of it is spent in companionable silence. By the time he’s done, Natasha has a faraway look in her eyes, tears running down her cheeks at how much pain you’d been in during the time she’s been gone. If the horrible things Clint is telling her is him being reassuring, she doesn't want to think about what he’s sparing her from knowing.

“I can’t–how am I going to face her, Clint? She’s going to hate me.” The guilt she feels is overpowering, and her head won’t stop spinning as she tries to reconcile the time she’s missed along with your crisis during her absence.

“Are you nuts?!” and Clint is yelling at her for the first time in quite a while, snapping her out of her thoughts. “She’s missed you so–I mean, how can you–? She’s going to be so happy to see you, Natasha. You are her everything, and she’s going to come back to life along with you.”

He can tell that Natasha isn’t fully convinced, but he makes her follow him out of the medical wing, and towards the almost deserted Avenger’s quarters of the compound. Walking next to her is a relief, and he feels almost like himself again.

Chapter 3

Nat and Clint stop to see Steve before they go up to your floor, and though Clint and Strange had warned him, Steve looks so surprised that for a second Clint worries about his heart giving out. Still, he’s smiling and laughing, and looking so pleased to have Natasha back home, alive and well. The smiles last until Nat asks about you, wanting Steve to tell her in his own words about how her wife has been doing, especially since he sees you so often.

His version of events don’t make her feel better; if anything, it’s worse. And she doesn’t know if Clint was trying to soften the blow, or if he genuinely didn't know how bad things were. She thinks it’s a bit of both, based on his body language and words, but she is a bit distracted at the moment, so she’s not too sure. Steve also seems like he’s trying to make her feel better, ensuring that she doesn’t panic about you even as she hears how you’ve been grieving her death. Their combined words have painted a horrifying picture of you in her absence, and she avoids trying to dig deeper into their words to figure out how much they’re hiding from her.

“You need to go see her, Nat.” Steve’s voice is gentle but reprimanding, breaking into her thoughts.

She nods, hears a rushing sound as she tries to figure out what the hell she’s going to say to you, how she’ll explain something she doesn’t really understand herself. She hasn’t even been gone that long in her mind, just going to Vormir and then waking up in the hospital. Still, she stands and makes her way out, shaking her head slightly when Clint goes to follow her. She needs to do this alone, owes it to you. He nods in understanding, sitting down again, and she squares her shoulders and sets out, goes home.

When Natasha reaches your floor and steps out of the elevator, she can immediately feel the desolation, the loneliness that you’ve embraced in her absence. Still, the small lamp that sits on a long thin table in the middle of the hall is turned on, the way it always was when she’d come home from a mission. It was your way of showing her that you’d missed her, that you were waiting for her to return, and she’d bet everything she has that the lamp hasn’t been turned off, not even once, since she’s been gone. Heart beating fast and breathing shallow, she makes her way through the hall towards the door that leads to the kitchen and living room, knowing that that’s where you’ll be, curled up in your spot. The bay window had been your favorite spot since you’d moved in with her, and she takes a few seconds to remember all the times she’s carried you to bed after you’d fallen asleep waiting for her to come home after missions. ,

She opens the door silently, sees you curled up in the bay window, head against the glass. She holds in a gasp at how…sickly you look. She still thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the universe, any universe, but your appearance is shocking. Hair gone brittle, skin dull, dark bags under your eyes, and your wasted figure all makes her heart ache, especially when she remembers how both Steve and Clint had reassured her that you were eating more with Yelena, enjoying her company. If this is you getting better…she really can’t imagine worse, doesn’t want to. She’s horrified enough as it is.

She keeps walking towards you after taking in your appearance, and suddenly your head moves up from the window, your eyes take in her figure. You always seem to know, she thinks fondly, when she’s close, no matter how silently and stealthily she moves, and no matter what's happening around the two of you. You blink a few times and then force yourself up, untangle yourself from the comforter you’d been wrapped in, stand there and look at her where she’s frozen, unable to speak with how happy she is to see you, even like this.

“Natasha, Natty,” you smile, and then you’re speaking in a rush, “I knew you’d be here, but I don’t know–I mean I can’t–can’t quite remember how I—how I died. Is that normal? Although it doesn’t matter. I’m just so happy to be with you again.” Natasha’s smile fades as she realizes what you think is happening, and the happy look on your face makes her stomach turn as her mind races for the words to fix this.

“No, no my love, you’re not dead.” She starts slowly, not wanting to overtax your grief stricken mind. You look confused at her words, and she takes a few steps towards you, heart clenching when you mirror her actions with a look of trepidation. Though confused and fearful, you’re still aching to be close to her.

“I don’t get it, what—? Please, no. No, I’m so tired, don’t leave me again!” And you take another, frantic, step towards her, and then she sees you falter, catches you just before you hit the ground. She checks, and your pulse is steady, but you aren’t waking up, and so she scoops you into her arms and heads back to the medical wing, asking FRIDAY to alert the others as she stands in the elevator holding your limp body.

When you wake up in the medical ward, you start screaming before anyone can talk to you, your last memory being Natasha’s ghost coming to take you away and then rejecting you (or at least, that’s what you think). You begin clawing at yourself, sobbing and screaming, asking for them to let you go, let you join her. Eventually they’re forced to sedate and restrain you, and there are still tears running down your face as the drugs take over and send you rushing into oblivion.

Natasha watches from outside the room, and feels her heart break.

When Yelena gets to the compound, arrives at the medical wing, the sisters go into a private room to talk. Clint had called her and she’d cut a mission short, rushing back even though she couldn't quite believe him. The sisters stand there, facing each other, and Yelena looks over Natasha suspiciously.

“C’mon Yelena. Just ask me what you want and then let me give you a hug.” It may have only felt like a short time since she’d seen you, but she hasn’t seen Yelena in over five years. At least her sister looks healthy, looks like she’d been able to carry on after the blip and Natasha’s death.

Yelena asks two questions before she finally breaks, crying as she falls into her sister’s embrace, grasping tightly as the redhead whispers to her in Russian. Eventually the crying subsides and they sit together, catch up. Natasha asks her sister about everything she’s been up to, starting from when she reappeared after the snap. She asks follow up questions, makes sure that Yelena knows how much she is loved by her older sister. Eventually Yelena gets to you, talks about what it was like to hear about you from Barton and then Steve, and then to meet you, to see her room. They both start crying again, even though neither one will admit it.

“What’s going on with her?” Yelena finally asks. She’s been avoiding the subject since she arrived. Yelena has grown to love you and she knows that her sister is scared by what’s happening, more scared by this than facing her own death. It’s an unsettling thought, and she shies away from it immediately.

“I don’t really know. She thought she was dead, when she saw me,” Natasha explains slowly, “and then she fainted when I tried to explain…things. The doctors are saying that she was out for so long because of how…fragile her body is right now. I brought her here and then when she woke up she completely lost it, tried to—they had to sedate her, even put on restraints.”

Yelena looks shocked, trying to picture you raising your voice even a bit, cannot connect this picture to the idea of you, the low tones you use, your shuffling from one room to the other, the soft smile she’s coaxed from you a couple times. She holds her sister tight, silently promising that she will fix this all, make sure things get better for all of you. And then she thinks that Natasha is probably thinking the same thing. She rests her head on her sister’s shoulder, knowing there is nothing she can say right now, knowing they will both have to wait for you to wake up, and hope that you’ll be calm.

The next time you wake up, you’re restrained, arms and legs tied to the bed, but it doesn't matter. The sedatives are still working their way through your system, you’re groggy and disoriented, and it takes you a few minutes to even remember what's going on, to open your eyes and scan the room. When you do look around, you see Clint staring at you, worry and something else, something you can’t figure out, on his face.

You turn your head to the other side, not wanting to see him.

You remember now, it all comes rushing back; you’d seen Natasha, thought she’d come to bring you to the afterlife, instead, it seems you fainted and someone found you and dragged you to the hospital. You remember waking up the first time, and tears leak out of your eyes as you feel the same desperation creeping up on you.

You face Clint again, gasp out “please.” It’s all you can say, but he’s shaking his head, grasping for your hand.

“No, no. I have something to tell you, I need to explain everything.” He watches for a reaction, but you just blink, cannot muster the energy to respond. He continues anyway, praying that you’re coherent enough to listen and digest the information.

“I talked to Stephen Strange about going to get Natasha’s body,” it hurts when he says her name, the first time he’s said it out loud to you in over a year.

“I wanted to bring her home to bury her here, so that, well, anyway. When we got there, apparently it’s a soul for a soul, and so when Steve returned the stone, he was entitled to–he could’ve–I guess he didn't know–wasn’t told–” Clint keeps struggling, starting and stopping. It's annoying enough to stir you to speak, it helps too that the drugs are wearing off even more as your heart beats faster, annoyance giving way to adrenaline, expelling the drugs.

“Spit it out, I just want to be finished with this.”

“We brought back the stone, and by doing that, we got Natasha back. Alive, I mean. She’s home. She’s here. She’s safe. She’s alive.” You stare at him, unable to believe what he’s saying.

He says it again, all of it and slowly, and then he keeps repeating those two words: ‘she’s alive’.

“Bring her,” you say finally, and he looks concerned. You sit up, frustrated and coherent enough to look like it.

“I’m fine now, you idiot. Someone should have told me! Of course I was going to think I had died, when I SAW MY DEAD WIFE APPEAR! GO GET HER!” You’re yelling by the end, angry and frustrated, and still not quite believing this isn’t some horrible trick. Still, you’d been married to an Avenger, you’ve seen plenty of crazy things over the years. You’re afraid to hope, but you need to, need this to be true.

He runs out of the room, and anticipation blooms in your chest; you start breathing heavily, vision going fuzzy, but you try and calm yourself down, knowing that they’ll sedate you again if you get too overwrought.

You have your eyes closed as you try to manage your breathing, and so you don't see Natasha come in, but you can tell when she’s there, though she’s as silent as ever. It was your own superpower, that's what she’d always said.

“Are you really here?” you ask, voice wavering and eyes still closed.

“Yes,” she says, and you’d forgotten just how sweet her voice sounds, “open up and take a look.”

You steel yourself and open your eyes, take in the sight of your beautiful wife, standing in front of you, looking as though she’d never left.

You go to reach for her, but the restraints that you’re still attached to prevent you from getting very far. You start tugging at them, and she quickly comes over, sitting next to you on the hospital bed, and undoing them with speed and efficiency, not quite meeting your eyes.

Once she’s done, you take her face in your hands, run them along her nose, cheeks, lips, mapping out her face, trailing your hands along her arms, touching her skin wherever you can, trying to prove to yourself that she’s here, alive, in front of you. Your eyes meet, though you can hardly see through the tears of joy and relief that are clouding your vision. You blink to clear them, swallow heavily to unstick your throat; you hold on tighter.

“Natasha,” you whisper, and her eyes close as she leans her forehead against yours. “I missed you so much.” And you’re crying, and the words are pathetic, a shadow of the pain, the misery, the destruction that you felt at her loss, a drop in the ocean of your grief. These are, however, the only words that your tired and drugged brain can come up with, and you begin to repeat them, over and over.

She pulls back to look at you, “I know, I’m so sorry–”

You shake your head, not wanting to think about it anymore, and then you both lean in, your lips meet, and it feels like coming home.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #clint barton #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #mcu #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff lives

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dreamwritersworld · 1 year ago

Text

Disconnected. (Sully family x reader)

she may have seemed peaceful to Mo’ak on the outside but inside…Y/n was going through war. She never liked resting because her dreams always haunted her…

*y/n’s dreams*

The forest was filled with an Erie silence…water droplets falling onto the muddy floor..traces of footprints imprinted.

Mo’at’s voice caught Y/n’s attention…it didn’t terrify her own grandmother that her granddaughter was walking in blood..

“Do you blame yourself?”

Y/n was taken back and her voice hitched in confusion

“…what?”

“Well it’s quite common for someone like you to feel some kind of…guilt.”

“…what situation?”

The young girl never told anyone about her best friends death. The dead’s child family decided to keep it a secret and protect Y/n’s privacy.

“The accident.”

Y/n was suddenly pulled away back into darkness and drowning in a puddle of her best friends own blood, gasping for air. She yet again had another panic attack.

“Are you tormented by memories?”

Y/n’s final gasp woke her up.

The sudden shift back to reality felt sickening. She woke up to Mo’at arguing with Neytiri and Jake.

“How do you go about defining good and evil?!”

Jake was angry, you can hear it in his voice.

“I can tell you right now that child is more good than evil! You are more worried about your reputation than your own kids, and you know it. The same thing as worrying about other people’s opinion instead of your own child!”

“My kids come first to me-“

“Going from one child to the next? Instead of giving them proper time to grow and love them properly? Please.”

“We have a happy household.”

There it is, that same statement Neytiri always makes in different wording. All. The. Time.

Y/n was infuriated sitting there…her grandmother’s saw exactly what she was ashamed of. It brought Y/n to tears, she had to face her own reality.

“Well your kid doesn’t look very happy to me. Really?”

The was a sense of disbelief in Mo’at’s voice, anger and frustration to get snap on her daughter whom she never placed pressure on….

It was visible to everyone, Y/n was broken and she can only be pushed so much till she…well you know how her story would end if she was pushed further.

In that moment all of the screaming and arguing faded away while another’s mind watch Y/n from a far…watched how she cried in frustration unsure on what to do or how to feel when someone like her grandmother finally recognizes her.

Neteyam. Her older brother, he told the rest of the siblings he was going to make sure their home was clear but he lied. Curiosity took the best of him…and watching Y/n show real emotions sent shock waves.

*neteyam’s flashback*

Y/n was always so strange to watch. She was silent and you could never tell what she was feeling.

When I was upset…I usually blinked quicker or shifted but Y/n’s look never showed much. My own little sister was better at everything compared to me, my father just pushed past it. When I was younger and didn’t know better I just figured she was doing everything wrong but now…now I know that’s not true.

So every time father yelled or screamed at me when we were younger, I took it…but it never worked that way for Y/n at the time, when she was younger she couldn’t take it at all. The small tears would fall, the moment she turned around.

“Y/n! Wrong! Again! Are you kidding me? Do better. I don’t know why people don’t say you have confidence. You are the cockiest kid I’ve ever worked with and yet you do everything wrong.”

We watched Y/n train for four hours already…it was now about to be five. She continued but the blood on her fingers didn’t fail to fall like her tears once she looked down at her feet for a small breather.

How can I take it? I wonder. Y/n’s ‘tougher’ than I am. Why can I take it?…and Y/n can’t.

my mind pondered on all the right answers but…then I knew. Training was the only thing Y/n loved and now that passion was gone. Y/n loved training when we were much younger, it gave her thrill until now…

That was the only time I saw Y/n cry. I always believed Y/n was a perfectionist…but looking back at the way our father corrected her every time…it was him not her.

So there Y/n was crying while watching her grandmother reveal all her true emotions, for the first time Y/n looked and acted like a child….she resorted back to her younger self.

“You’re making her upset Mother! This is you-“

Y/n spoke up for her grandmother but it was clear in her voice she was exhausted and in pain.

“Im not upset because of grandmother. Im upset because of you. You did this! Throughout my entire childhood you have made me the outcast-“

“Really Y/n? Name one time! I outta tell you kid you better pick your words wisely before your grounded.”

“Again? Is this your solution to everything still?…you just don’t get it. You have always put me again my siblings and constantly perfect me on everything. You have said to me, to a child! the only reason I get complimented on doing everything right is because everyone is delirious. Who does that? You’re awful.”

“You leave right now Y/n! Now! I mean it. I will not have you behaving like this! It’s what you always wanted right?! Go!”

Y/n froze in place and her shoulders fell in defeat…this is what they always wanted, a reason to kick Y/n out.

Mo’at reached out for the now lost girl while her parents just watched.

“Y/n! Don’t disappear, do what you want, as long as you stay with me. I see you my grandchild-“

Those were the exact words Y/n needed until it was cut short with Mo’at falling in her arms. The young girls eyes looked back and forth directly at Mo’at before y/n’s body leaned forward with her grandmothers limp body, falling slowly down with her…letting out the most heart wrenching scream at her grandmothers blood leaking all over her and leaving a stain on her already broken heart.

“Nooooo!!”

Helicopters above shot at the area surrounding them while the village was screaming in the background. Neytiri’s cries were loud before Jake pulled her up to find the other kids.

War was starting. The humans have found their home. Y/n had nothing, nowhere to go. She just wanted a moment of silence.

Sobs were let out while she dragged her grandmother’s body with her sobbing in between rocks begging Eywa to return her.

Mo’at was the only person who understood her and at certain points of their life…they drank poison from the same vine.

!💓!

Going to be honest I don’t know if this is the last part :( I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to produce stories as quickly! I wanted the song to symbolize how mo’at and y/n’s relationship with their parents were very similar and how Y/n was ashamed and saddened by her mother exposing how she truly felt while still being happy that she was now recognized. “I love it and I hate it at the same time.”

I ALSO IMAGINED Y/N’s SCREAM SOUNDING EXACTLY LIKE ROCKET’S FROM GOTG 3

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype @zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll l @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro @elegantkidfansoul l @goodiesinthecloset21 1 @nikotokitaswife @bucky1235 @detectivesparrow @kikosaurscave @ssc7514 @simp-erformarvelwomen @eirianna @ambria @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @lv9su @luciddasher @dakotali @httpjiikook @tainted-artist4161 @fanboyluvr r @bat1212 @ducks118 @midnightliacr @osakis-gf @briannalarae @thirsty4nonlivingmen @historygeekqueen @abbersreads @hoodiepandaninja16 @valovesyou @silentlyswimming @r3dc4ndy @onlytays @papichulo120627 @tsamiaxo @wwwellacom @dotheyevenknowmars @midgetpottermills @he110hon @hotdsstuff @heart-an0n @go-river-flows

#SoundCloud #angst #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #neteyam sully #neytiri sully #sully family x reader #avatar loak #avatar the way of water #sully family x daughter reader

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luminousjellyfishy · 3 months ago

Text

Hey look I'm capable of writing?? Woah???

It's a oneshot, so it's not too much, but I'm still proud that I wrote something.

Haunting Lullabies

Characters (all Sanses from UTAU/MV): Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Cross

Word count: 3609

Trigger warnings: Swearing and harsh teasing (it's pretty much bullying)

Summary: Nightmare tasks the gang with watching a child for a day while he's out, thinking things will go smoothly. To his dismay, they don't.

The Bad Sanses were sitting in the living room, Nightmare on his chair, Killer and Dust sharing the larger couch, and Horror and Cross sharing the loveseat. Error had been absent for the majority of the day, either off destroying or hiding away in the Anti-Void. The five present members were each doing their respective hobbies in relative silence, enjoying the calm evening after a long, tiresome day of causing havoc throughout the AUs.

Nightmare took a rather large sip of his coffee, then said abruptly, “I feel that I should let you know ahead of time that Error and I will be gone all day tomorrow, and in our absence the four of you will be looking after a child. I owe a friend of mine a favour and it seems that… babysitting, is the task they’ve chosen.”

This sudden comment drew the attention of everyone in the room, actually resulting in a true, pure silence. Panicked eyelights were darting around the room between one another and Nightmare, desperately hoping that they had misheard.

“What…? Boss, what do you even mean? A kid?” Killer started suddenly, confusion all over his features.

“Please tell me it’s not a human.” Dust added, his eyesockets wider than his usual apathetic appearance allowed.

A small chuckle from Nightmare, “No, he isn’t a human. He’s a skeleton monster like yourselves. However, he is quite fragile, so please do be careful with him. I can imagine that you’re all wondering why I don’t watch him, as I’m the one who owes the favour, and the answer is quite simple: I don’t want to.”

Cross stared agape at the smirk on Nightmare’s face, apparently not understanding how one could just not follow through on a debt just because they “didn’t want to”.

“Is something the matter, you two? You seem awfully quiet and I thought you’d have more to say on the matter.” Nightmare asked Cross and Horror in a low voice, however completely unthreatening.

“Well, I don’t really know much about takin’ care of a kid… the best I got is Aliza.” Horror said slowly, evidently still processing the situation. Cross quickly nodded in agreement, still silent.

“I mean, you’ve had Chara living in your skull for a while now, so you’ve still got a step up above the rest of us. I mean, I guess that I worked with Chara for a while, but they were a maniac, so I don’t think they really count…” Killer said to Cross; however, quickly trailing off in uncertainty.

“I killed my human.” Dust added softly.

“What’s that gotta do with it?” Horror asked, now looking at Dust.

“I don’t wanna accidentally kill the kid we’re supposed to watch.” He answered.

“Trust me, that won’t happen.” Nightmare replied, doing little to alleviate his concerns.

Silence followed briefly before Cross said, “So how old is he? Is there anything specific we should know? Is his magic stable? You said that he’s fragile, so will we need to dedicate certain times to healing? We need so much information to make sure we don’t kill him!”

Nightmare seemed to ponder the questions for a small moment before replying with a smile, “He’s a few months past 6 years old, however he looks, acts, and thinks much older. He doesn’t have much usable magic, so you won’t have to worry about that. While he is fragile, there is nothing you can do to help, so no amount of healing will do anything. Just keep him comfortable and entertained and you’ll all be fine.”

“You really seem like you’re purposefully not telling us shit about him.” Killer commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s fully intentional, but please, do not worry too much. You’ll be fine. When you all wake tomorrow, I’ll be gone and won’t be back until late at night. He will most likely be here before you wake, so please try not to sleep in too much.” Nightmare replied with a soft smile and laugh at the end.

A pained groan quickly erupted from both Killer and Dust at the knowledge that they won’t be able to sleep in.

Nightmare laughed again, shook his head, and refocused his attention back onto his book.

~~~~

The child had been roaming the halls of the mansion for quite some time now, admittedly getting rather bored. He had pondered causing chaos multiple times since Nightmare left, but has decided against it every time… well. Every time but this one it seems.

He ran to the laundry area, in the hopes to find some buckets. After a short amount of time spent rummaging around, he finally found a few beside a washing machine. A silly, evil giggle erupted before quickly being silenced, even though he was two floors beneath anyone and he knew that no one had woken up yet.

He ran as fast as he could to the bedroom wing on the second floor, holding several buckets. After reaching the wing, he quickly made his way to Error’s room, hoping desperately that there was leftover string or yarn from the many dolls and scarfs that were so often being made. To his excitement, he found a rather large amount of lime green yarn that would work perfectly.

He set to work, filling four buckets with water and attaching fairly intricate pulley systems to each, rigging them all to dump at their perfect moments.

Now to wait…

He sat down quietly against a wall across from the bedroom doors and began to sleep. Or at least what appeared to be sleeping from an outside perspective. He had actually just entered a semi-unconscious daydreaming state that could easily be disrupted.

Time quickly passed with the child sitting on the floor.

Suddenly, a tired groan from one of the rooms awoke the child from his trance. He quickly stood up, waiting for whoever it was to leave their room. Some shuffling could be heard from what the child knew to be Killer’s room and they could barely contain their giggle when they heard him approach the door to come into the hallway.

The doorknob turned and the system was set into motion.

Killer opened the door and walked out, surprised to see the child waiting there, but raised his hand to say hi.

Out of nowhere, a bucket of water dumped onto his head, drenching him completely and resulting in a loud, startled yell of utter confusion.

The child burst into fits of laughter, unable to contain it any longer.

All the sudden commotion woke the other sleeping skeletons and forced them out of their rooms to see what the problem was. As soon as their doors opened and they walked out, buckets dumped cold water onto their heads.

Everyone was completely confused and staring at the child with reactions that varied from amusement to pissed off. The child in question was currently on the floor dying of laughter because apparently he found their suffering and misery to be hilarious.

“Ok… what the fuck? Huh??” Was all that could be said from Killer, still staring at the skeleton child on the floor.

Dust didn’t even bother saying anything about the situation, he just shook his head and turned back into his room to change.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Horror slowly approached the child, asking quietly, “I take it you’re the kid Nightmare wants us to watch?”

The child took a second to calm down, but then looked up at the large skeleton ahead of him and quieted down slightly, however still letting out copious amounts of giggles.

“Yeah, that’s me. My name’s Lullaby. You’re Horror right?” another burst of giggles, “Sorry about the water, I just got super bored because you were all sleeping and I didn’t know what to do.” The child, now Lullaby, answered through more laughter and wide smiles.

Cross looked around the hallway, noticing the very complicated design of the yarn attached to all four of their rooms, then back to Lullaby, very confused as to how a 6 year old managed to accomplish this, and wondering how long they had been here.

“You set all of this up?? How long have you been here?” Cross asked incredulously before Horror could think of a response.

Lullaby smiled innocently before saying, “I’ve been here for about 2 or 3 hours? Setting this up only took about 15 minutes, though.”

“Ok hold up, I need to wrap my head around. You’re telling me, this 6 year old brat that Boss is forcing us to watch set this all up in 15 minutes? I don’t buy it.” Killer said in a dark tone of voice, very tempted to summon some of his knives and get rid of this nuisance.

“Killer, calm down. It’s just water and not that big of a deal.” Horror grumbled in his raspy voice, watching carefully to make sure he didn’t try anything.

Killer just scoffed and turned back into his room, clearly annoyed.

“Don’t worry too much about him, he just gets… grumpy. Especially this early in the morning. Well, it’s early for him anyways.” Cross chimed in. He was still soaked in water, but was very clearly amused.

Dust finally came back out of his room, dressed in clothes perfect for lounging around the house all day. He approached Lullaby and kneeled down so they were on the same level.

“Good job, kid, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can piss off Killer so fast.” He said with a wide smirk on his face and held his hand up for a high five. Lullaby gave him one with a smile stretched wide.

“I know, I know. I should be a professional shit disturber, right?” Lullaby asked, his smile still going strong.

Cross and Horror broke out into small fits of laughter, clearly not having expected that, whereas Dust just raised his ‘eyebrows’ in surprise.

“You totally should, that sounds like a great occupation.” Cross replied, trying to steady himself.

Horror nodded in agreement, then said, “I say we reward the newfound shit disturber with some nice cream.”

“Can I have some?” Killer called out from his room, still not opening the door.

Dust scoffed, “If you agree to play nice and not kill the kid then maybe we’ll consider giving you some.”

Silence followed for a few long seconds, when finally the door creaked open and out came Killer.

“Fine. I won’t kill him, BUT I will get my revenge.” He said maliciously, eyesockets narrowed at Lullaby.

“Oh noooooo, I’m so scared.” He muttered to himself; however, Killer unfortunately heard.

“I’m trying to be nice, and this is the reaction I get? Nah, I’m going all out. You’re going to regret coming here, kid.”

“We’ll see.”

~~~~

As the day passed by ever so slowly, Killer stayed true to his word. He had his fun torturing Lullaby, by first stealing his nice cream, then scaring him multiple times throughout the day, then taking away anything that he had been enjoying, and many more things that progressively got worse. He would taunt him and insult him, commenting on his broken and damaged bones, calling him names, teleporting him to parts of the mansion furthest away from anyone else, making fun of his purple clothing, and just overall making this day very unpleasant for him. The others tried intervening when they could, but there was only so much that they could do.

At one point, Lullaby seemed to have a mini panic attack that caused Killer to slightly falter, but not stop.

Cross, Dust, and Horror all talked to Killer, trying to get him to stop, but they were all met with a shrug and a comment similar to, “He knew what he was getting into. Besides, it's not even that bad, I’m just teasing him. It’ll help toughen the kid up!”

Eventually, Lullaby started avoiding him, if he saw Killer come near, he’d leave immediately.

Around 8pm, Dust caught Lullaby hiding in a broom closet with his eyes shut tight and muttering something, seemingly talking to someone. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, making enough noise so his presence was obvious. Lullaby looked up at him, startled as he sat down.

“Are you alright, kid? … No, that’s a stupid question. Killer’s been a complete jerk to you and it’s not fair or right. He’s not used to talking to people outside of our group unless he’s killing ‘em, so he might think that this is ok behaviour. I mean, fuck he’s always doing it to me. Well, not to this extent, but still…” Dust whispered to him, not wanting to draw outside attention. Lullaby’s shoulders sank and he hugged his knees tightly.

“I just thought it would be funny… I figured he of all people would agree. Do you think he hates me…?” He asked reluctantly. Dust’s head snapped towards him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“No, kid. Not at all. He’s just a massive hypocrite who can dish it out but can’t take it. Stars, it’s nothing against you.” He shook his head and pulled Lullaby closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He felt him tense up at the contact and quickly let go.

Lullaby looked away with a sad expression on his face and nodded, standing up to leave. Dust followed suit, opening the door and walking out.

The two walked the halls towards the kitchen, hoping to meet Horror there, but being intercepted by Killer. Lullaby hid behind Dust, grabbing onto his sweatshirt and careful not to touch his scarf.

“Awww, is the little baby hiding behind Dusty? C’mon kid, I thought you were better than that. Aren’t you the one who said ‘we’ll see’ when I told you that you were gonna regret coming? You think that was a little cocky of you? Maybe you regret your stupid your stupid water prank?” Killer taunted, his voice chock-full of spite.

Dust glared at him, “Seriously? He’s 6, Killer. He dunked you with water, because it’s funny. I thought you of all people could take a joke. You’re way out of line. How the hell do you think Boss is gonna react when he finds out how you’ve been acting? We were charged with watching the kid and making sure that he’s ‘comfortable and entertained’, neither of which you’ve been doin-”

“Aw come on! I’ve totally been entertaining!”

“Leave him alone. If I find out that you’ve continued antagonizing him, there’ll be hell to pay.”

A quick, unreadable look from Killer, and he was gone.

Dust turned to take Lullaby’s hand so they could keep walking, but quickly saw that he was crying. He kneeled down and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the violet tears that looked much more oily than a regular skeleton’s tears would. After wiping them away, they seemed to stain his bones a much darker colour than the tears were. It was almost black and caused Dust to do a double take.

“Kid? Why a-”

“He’s just like them.”

Dust sat in silence, his ‘eyebrows’ scrunched in confusion.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m staying.” He muttered to himself, but Dust could tell that he seemed to be telling someone else that he was staying. Someone that wasn’t himself or Dust.

The two of them stood up, and resumed their walk to the kitchen.

They walked in silence, eventually getting back to a sight that they didn’t expect.

Killer was sitting at the dinner table, his head in his arms and Cross beside him with a resigned look on his face.

Dust could feel Lullaby tense up, but neither said anything.

Killer looked up and his teasing stature seemed to crumble.

There was silence for a moment before he began, “Listen, kid. I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ve told you that I ‘struggle with emotions’ or whatever crap excuses they tried to give you to cover up for me. I dish out my pranks and comments to everyone, but I don’t know why I’ve been especially mean- no, cruel. To you. I guess I was taken aback that you got me first, so I tried making up for it like this. So I’m sorry.”

Lullaby said nothing, but Dust felt his grip loosen.

“I get if you don’t wanna talk to me or anything, but I just wanted to tell you that I really am sorry.” Killer muttered resignedly as he got up from the table and began to walk towards the door.

When Killer passed by Lullaby and Dust, Lullaby quickly grabbed onto him, pulling him tightly into a hug.

Killer stared down at him in shock, then slowly hugged him back.

“It was nice to hear you say that, but I can’t make myself believe it.” Lullaby said, dropping his arms and pulling back so tears could be seen to form in his broken eye sockets, “I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s too cruel. You’re great people and it was nice to meet you, but I really wish we could have started off better. Maybe I’ll bring myself to speak to you again later.”

Everyone’s faces shifted from confusion to shock when Lullaby’s body began leaking a dark substance from its crevices and orifices, especially his right eyesocket.

Slowly, Lullaby was completely engulfed in the goo, all of his injuries hidden and the hole where his right eye should have been was covered. Finally, his eyelight changed to a cyan slit and his demeanour changed from being a scared child, to that of a very pissed off King.

Nightmare glared at Killer, his tentacles lashing around violently, displaying his anger.

“You have no idea how much shit you’re in, Killer. It never occurred to you that maybe you should stop when you triggered him into having a panic attack? You never stopped to wonder why he did so? Why he hid?” He hissed, his tentacles sharp and pointed at Killer.

“I didn’t stop to think. I was upset that he got me fir-”

“I heard your whole speech earlier, don’t waste my time by repeating yourself.”

There was silence as Killer looked to his feet.

“Can’t explain yourself? Fine, then don’t. I don’t care to hear it anyways. As for my explanation, Lullaby is the name my past self goes by, as the name ‘Nightmare’ contains far too many negative connotations and memories. He follows me as a ghost that I can see and communicate with. I’ve been watching you all day, and honestly Killer, I’m very disappointed. You practically reenacted the worst years of his life. Of course, your ‘apology’ helps your case; however, I’m still quite upset.” Nightmare scolded, still glaring at Killer.

“He wanted to meet all of you, so we agreed that today would be a good day to do so, as Error would be out and we had no plans. I want to thank the three of you,” he looked to Dust, Horror, and Cross, “for assisting and comforting him. I appreci-”

“I’m so sorry.”

Nightmare looked back to Killer, only to see far less Hate leaking from his eyes, however being replaced by his red tears.

“I didn’t know. I thought that we were just having some fun, but I guess towards the end, I was just being mean on purpose because I wanted to feel powerful. Ha… feel powerful over a fucking 6 year old. Man, I really am the worst…” Killer sobbed, trailing off at the end.

Nightmare’s tentacles calmed and rounded slightly at the tips. He was at a loss for words. It was a very rare occurrence to see Killer cry, but when he did, it was genuine.

Everyone was quiet, broken only by Killer’s weeping.

Nightmare sighed, then pulled Killer towards him with his tentacles, gently embracing him. The other three respectfully kept their distance.

“Lullaby said it’s ok. He doesn’t blame you and you shouldn’t blame yourself. We both knew what he was getting into by taking control; however, I cannot let this go unpunished.” Nightmare murmured, gently rubbing his back with a tentacle. He felt Killer tense up slightly and he could feel his dread radiating.

“It’s nothing cruel or torturous, I assure you. However, you won’t like it.”

He could feel the others’ apprehension as he continued to console Killer.

“You’ll be taking care of everyone’s chores, you’ll be assisting Horror with dinners, and you’ll be going to bed at 9pm, all for a month from today.” He asserted, instantly feeling his disappointment, but also understanding. Dust cheered when Nightmare said Killer will be doing their chores, Horror groaned when he said that he’ll be helping in the kitchen, and Cross laughed at the fact that he’ll have a bedtime.

Killer pulled away, wiped his face with his sleeve, and nodded.

“You said, Lullaby followed you as a ghost, and that you heard me talking earlier, so does that mean he can hear me now?” Killer asked slowly. To this, Nightmare with a quiet sound of confirmation. “In that case, I’m sorry, kid. I really am.”

Nightmare’s eyelight flickered into Lullaby’s purple one, but he didn’t uncorrupt, instead he said in his lighter voice and with a smile, “It’s ok. I really don’t blame you. Personally, I would have revoked your nice cream privileges, but this will do.”

His eyelight flickered back to cyan and his smile changed to a smirk, “I actually think that’s a great idea. Fuck you, no nice cream for a week.”

Killer fell to his knees dramatically, seemingly mostly back to his old self, and yelled out numerous profanities.

Everyone laughed at the sight, Lullaby included.

So, this follows my headcanon that Nightmare is made up of three consciousnesses: the original passive Nightmare (he goes by Lullaby now), the Corruption (literal negativity - goes by C), and Nightmare (he's a combination of the other 2 - primarily has control of their body). Lullaby can take control whenever he wants since he's the original (the other 2 can't take it from him), and C can take from Nightmare, but Nightmare can't take from C. For about 2 centuries after the Apple Incident, C (he went by Nightmare to keep up appearances) had complete control over their body because Lullaby didn't want to interact with reality at all (at this point, he wasn't even following as a ghost, he was just gone). After those ~2 centuries, the combination between them formed and others would notice that Nightmare had significantly calmed down, signifying the formation of the current and most well-known Nightmare.

This is inspired by a YouTube video by AButterfly (www.youtube.com/watch?v=10iGbkHDafA) and I seriously suggest you watch it! Not even just for context, but because it's cool.

Thanks for reading! :D

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marksbear · 2 years ago

Note

Hello there! Could I request Aaron Hotchner x male reader

basically, when the reader was a kid he was a victim to a kidnapping (where he got tortured and shi) which he escapes and it still haunts him years later. While being in the bau he doesn’t tell anyone about it until an unsub comes into play that’s basically a copycat of the readers kidnapper (like same kinds of victims, same way of killing/kidnapping etc) and it kinda all unfolds from there. and ofc Aaron comforts the reader and the unsub is taken down because we love happy endings 🙏

but take your time home boy! Drink water and rest 👍👍

Yoo whats good thank you for requesting big fella! I love your request and I am more than happy to write this!

warnings! Child pred unsubs, kidnapping, topics of rape, torturer, fighting punishing, killing, fighting for a life, sexual assault on a minor. ANGST TO A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL

side note I didn't know whether to make this platonic or romantic so I ran with romantic SO I hope you don't mind if you wanted to make this platonic just ask and i'll do it.

AARON HOTCHNER X MALE READER

PAST.

You were only twelve. You were walking to your "Girlfriend" at the time house. You made sure to look nice since you were gonna meet her parents. The street was quiet and peaceful like always nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP! MY DOG IS DROWNING!! HELP" A woman shouts from the nearby pond. You looked around to see if there was anyone else to help the dog but once you didn't see anyone you took matters into your own hands.

You run to the pond taking off your shoes and socks jumping into the water to save the dog. It took you a while to get the dog out of the water because the dog is all wet and more heavy now two because you were only a twelve year old boy.

Once you get the dog out of the water the woman thanks you profusely. Like the cocky boy you were you smirked and said "Anytime lady. That was a piece of cake!" The woman laughs and hugs you tightly taking something out of her sleeve before stabbing you with it.

Out of pure shock you swung her on her right on her face with a right hook. The woman gasps and holds her cheek "How dare you boy! Wait until my husband hears about this!"

You took off with a sprint running as fast as you can. But sadly your twelve year old body couldn't out run a dog. The dog had tackled you on the floor dropping all of their body weight on you trapping you on the floor.

"Naughty boy... Lets go home and see how your father is gonna punish you for hitting mommy."

Your version became blurry and body limp then suddenly it went dark.

TIMESKIP

You woke up gasping for air hands that went to your neck. You looked around the place you were in and it looked like the inside of a box. You stood up head feeling woozy.

"I told you he was the one Matthew I mean look at him! Hes our perfect boy~" You snap your way to where the voice came from. You backed away staring at the two shaking. "Don't be scared baby! Were only mama and daddy." The woman says smiling getting off her husband's lap.

"Yeah son. Come here and give daddy a kiss."

"W-what!?! I'm not your SON!" Y/n screams at the odd pair but quickly shuts his mouth once the woman gets the dog. "This is your sister Ali. Shes a trained hunter and you are the size of a mouse to which she can easily hurt. To avoid getting in trouble do what your daddy tells you!" The tone in her voice changes so as her mood.

Trembling you walk to the man and give him a quick peck on the cheek. The man laughs and points at his lips "No son you're so silly. I mean lips son give daddy a kiss on the lips." He cups your face pulling you in for a kiss but you were quicker.

You claw him in the eyes and make a run for it pushing the woman out of your way. "ALI! GO GET HIM!" The dog chases you lunging for your legs before you make it to the stairs you let out a blood curdling scream.

Your body falls to the ground. Your left leg bleeding profusely. You scream and cry scratching the floors nails probably ripping and tearing off fingertips bleeding.

Ali bits and drags both legs like they were toys marking both of them for the rest of your life.

You feel your body getting picked up but gets slammed back down in a fast pace repeating the action until your head is bleeding and face and teared up and bloody.

You lay in your own puddle of blood crying and screaming for help. "MATTHEW STOP IT! You're making a bad impression with our boy~ Let me get him all cleaned up for supper." The woman picks you up taking you out of your misery.

TIMESKIP WARNING!! THE WOMAN IS TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF READER AND TRIES TO TOUCH HIM. SKIP IF YOU DON'T WANNA READ

She was washing you like you were six. She treated you so gently and kindly but she couldn't take her eyes off of your private area. You tried to cover yourself but every time your hands get pushed away. "Baby I am your mother. I gave birth to you It's nothing new. But you sure did get bigger." Tears overcome your eyes making them look like a doll. You learned from your real father to "Never let someone else see your private area. Even Mommy and me. Until you find the right one okay Y/n?" Those words of your father made you keep hiding your area every time she looked making her get more and more annoyed.

"Stop it! Ok Stop it! I don't want you looking at me like that okay!!" You finally fight back and scream at her. The woman stares at you shocked but backs off and walks away.

OKAY THE PART IS DONE!!!

It has been months of getting tortured and pretending to be someone your not and you decide enough is enough. Today is the day. You have been planning this escape for weeks now and it's time to take action. You found a way to lock Ali in the bathroom while you launch your plan to escape.

You hide in a nearby closet waiting for your mom to get in the basement as her daily routine to check up on you. Once you do you pounce on her making sure to cover her mouth as you fight for your life. You punch her on her neck rapidly with full force no doubt making your knuckles bruise.

Even though she was bigger and probably stronger than you. You used the element of surprise as a way to get her. Once she gets tired and weak you take off her shoe using it to smash her in her head. Finally she got unconscious. You take off your shirt and tie her in the most creative knot you thought of and ran upstairs shutting the door behind you and locking it.

Now it's only you and your "Father" You took off your own shoes to go around the house quiet. You learned it from all of the not so p-g movies you and your brother watch. You see your father in his office back towards the wide open door headphones on probably in one of his meetings. You find a couple vases before slowly stalking behind him smashing one hard in the middle of his head. He turns around fast but falls back once you land another one in his face. He lands on the floor hard. You stand above him before raising the third vase over your head before using all of your strength bringing it down onto his head.

Blood on your hands and on the floor and glass covering the room. You look at his phone and a journal before taking it walking out of the house calling 9-1-1 telling them the address as you sit on the porch. After that you pick up the journal and read it. It's all about you. Your height what's your real name and all the things they have done to you in full detail every single day even the way you got kidnapped. You call up your parents "Hey momma...Hey daddy it's me Y/n."

PRESENT

"Agent L/n." -Hotch

"Hey L/n"- Emily

"Daddy you there?"- Of course Morgan asks that earning a glare from Hotch because of the nickname.

"Uh Y/n?" - Spencer

"Is he okay?"- Penelope

You look around and give out a weak laugh. "Uhh sorry. Didn't mean to space out like that." You give them a weak apology rubbing the back of your head.

"You okay? you never spaced out like that. Especially for that long." Gideon points out full of worry. "Yeah i'm good trust me. It's just that the unsubs kinda freak me out."

"Okay i'll give you that one I mean cmon. The victims look exactly like you. Same hair, hair color, eyes, height and all boys. They all fit just like you if you were younger. " Reid rambles pointing out at all of the similarities.

Does he know? No he couldn't know. I mean you were famous in your state for being the survivor or the "Gods son" what your town called you before leaving the state to start fresh. You hated that nickname with such a passion. If you were God's son why the hell did he let you get abused and touched like that SO YOUNG. You were only twelve for crying out loud.

You stared at Reid studying him with a glare. You refused to be outed like this. Not now not here. You became shaking from overthinking.

Then a sheriff comes in with a newspaper dropping it on the round table. "Here this is useful." The team circles around the table reading the title of the newspaper. "God's son? The boy who survived it all." Hotch reads out eyeing the sheriff. "Read it front and back." The sheriff tells the team.

No.No...NO this can't be happening. All of the years and makeup hiding the scars. You wore layers and gloves and long socks to hide the markings. You wore long sleeves to hide the markings that were covered into you saying "Mommy and Daddy." You weren't ready for this. Hell you were never gonna be ready for this.

"Twelve year old Y/n L/n survived ten months of torture, pretending and rape. From a wealthy couple named Matthew Powell and Sarah Powell. The kid who fought for his life and ended up winning." Reid says giving a short summary to the team. The room got quiet with so much tension. Before Reid keeps reading. "The boy still has the scars from everything from that tragic event. Even dog bite markings on his legs from the family dog Ali. And also he carries the journal Matthew owns. The journal has documentation of everything Y/n did or what they did to him even the way they captured the boy "

Gideon raises his hand up signaling Reid to stop reading further. "L/n. Do you know what's going to happen to the boy next. If the unsubs are truly copycats we need to know what they're gonna do to the boy next. The unsubs have been having him for seven days. What did they do to you on the seventh day?" The sheriff asks you but you don't answer only reaching for your bag taking out the journal and hands it to Hotch.

"I keep it with me everywhere I go. I already have to carry the scars everyday so why not carry the story." Y/n says leaning into the hug that Derek gives him. "Everyone can't waste time. Currently their taking him to the park so we have to hurry!" Hotch tells everyone. The team all get up and head out to the cars.

"L/n wait." Hotch says making sure everyone is out before shutting the door locking it and shutting the blinds. "I--im so sorry Aaron!" Y/n chokes out getting out of the chair hugging Aaron as tightly as he can. "Shhh... Its okay Y/n. You didn't do anything wrong baby." Aaron says trying to ease his boyfriend. Y/n cries onto Aaron clinging to him for dear life as Aaron tries to ease him and calm him down. Once Y/n cries became sniffles Aaron pulls him away from him kissing him deeply.

Y/n melts into the kiss. The kisses helps him calm down and get himself back together.

TIMESKIP.

You stare the unsubs down gun pointing at the wife's head. "On your knees." The woman puts her hands in the air kneeling down before you. The victim its behind you holding onto you for dear life.

You had gotten to the playground early before the team even though with the short start. You already took down the guy. Hes handcuffed all bloody and messed up from you. When you had seen him you saw Matthew instead of the other man and you went animistic. You tackled him on the ground and began to punch him repeatedly and hit him with your gun knocking him out and hand cuffed him.

You held the woman to gun point if she didn't let the boy go to which she did and now shes on her knees before you. The only person you saw was Sarah the woman who caused you all of this pain and suffering. You wanted nothing more just to kill her with your bare hands to finish the job all those years ago.

Your vision only focused on her not seeing all other families and FBI and police in the background. Tears running down your face as you move your finger to pull the trigger but stop once you hear Hotch.

"Agent L/n stand down now!"

You watch as cops take the woman and man away. You put your gun in its holder turning around looking at the young image of you. You pick him up for a tight hug both of you crying on each other.

The BAU watches the two of you all of them not daring to make a move or a comment until Hotch walks over to you both grabbing the both of you for a hug.

TIMESKIP WEEKS LATER

For the first time ever Y/n was in his bed with Hotch naked only a pair of boxers covering him. Hotch traces the scars with his hands lowering his head down from time to time giving the scars small kisses. "You're so beautiful Y/n." Hotch says before planting a kiss on one of Y/n larger scars all the way to the top of the scar to the bottom. "H-hotch stop it!" Y/n begs but Hotch ignores it by kissing another scar on his stomach.

"I love you Y/n no matter what happened to you in the past or what you look like I will always love you."

"I love you too you dork now..."

"Aaron~ Why don't you kiss me up here." Y/n suggest smuggly but gets shut up with a slap on the thigh.

THE END

#criminal minds x male reader #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch #x male reader #angst #the bear club #male reader

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liyawritesss · 2 years ago

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heyyy can i request the reader as aizawa's daughter, but eal lives like her mother in another country? then she arrives at the ua by surprise and is like "Hey, Dad?"

ᴀɪᴢᴀᴡᴀ ᴡ/ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

Characters: Aizawa Shouta & Black!Daughter!Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Synopsis: A ghost of Aizawa’s past comes back to haunt him, in the form of a thirteen year old girl preparing to select a highschool to go to.

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of unplanned pregnancy, unprotected sex

A/N: none

The last thing Aizawa expects to encounter after a day of teaching, is a little girl, almost his students age, popping up at his school claiming to be his daughter.

Of course he denies this, and in the back of his mind, he thinks this little girl may need some help. And in his efforts to direct her to the nearest police station to maybe locate a relative to take you home, but your protests don’t go unnoticed.

He decides to entertain your idea to keep you quiet, although he really doesn’t want to deal with a little girls delusion.

But as he takes you on an impromptu tour of the UA building (that he’s sure he’ll have an earful about from Nezu), your testimonies start to make sense

First, the similarities that you do share with him - including a signature deadpan that has gotten you one too many questions about ��are you okay’. Also, your affinity towards felines. He had to admit that the stories you shared about you cat at home were adorable

Then there was the consequences of your birth. If you were his child, he would have had to have been a part of your conception when he was 17 or 18.

And although he was never a party animal or irresponsible enough to have sex with multiple women, he does remember a specific party Present Mic dragged him to. It was the same party he found out he was a lightweight, and was taken care of by a rather beautiful girl that Present Mic had been trying to set him up with for years…

Holy shit, he slept with your mother. Unprotected. And now you’re here trying to decide if you want to attend UA for highschool. And for the first time in his life, he’s unsure of what to do, and how to feel

Though the moment he looks at you, and how deeply intrigued you are with the same institution he’s been working at for years, cultivating generation after generation of heroes. And he finds himself wondering if it would be so bad to help nurture this kid…who’s supposedly his…into being the hero she dreams of being.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#black tumblr #black reader #black academia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #bnha dadzawa #mha dadzawa #aizawa x daughter reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff

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mathanlin · 1 year ago

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// child neglect, implied child abuse (and resignation towards it), panic attacks

Hybrid/Foster AU where hybrid kids are almost impossible to foster — because if they imprint, they can’t leave.

So the Watsons are given an instruction packet when they first foster avian!Tommy.

Detailing exactly how to make him feel unsafe, unwanted & unloved.

It’s all practical wording, of course — “no affectionate contact,” “no gifts,” “no excessive compliments.” Even, “Discipline can be utilized in case of emergency.”

It’s horrifying.

Especially when Tommy tries to help.

He jerks back from their hands, wrenches his gaze away when they smile at him, covers his ears & trembles when they say anything kind.

So they try to stop. Give him the bare minimum, even if it breaks their hearts.

But Tommy still seems to count that as love.

Feeding him. Giving him blankets to curl in. And as much kindness as Tommy lets them show — ‘forgetting’ gifts outside his door, buying him snacks, murmuring compliments about him when they know he’s eavesdropping.

And not hating him at the slightest sign of hybridity.

“It’s okay,” Phil murmurs once, forcing a heartbroken smile as Tommy claps his hands over his mouth, stifling a chirp.

Tommy’s pupils dilate, just for a second. Then he wrenches his head to the side, breath catching.

“Please don’t. I want to stay.”

It’s all he says, mumbled on repeat, fractured by strangled chirps — calls for contact he’s clearly trying to swallow.

He bats Phil’s hands away, flinching every time a word slips past his own hands, growing more and more frantic—

“You can stay.”

Phil almost sobs it out.

Tommy goes still, wings curled protectively around himself. He’s… still not looking at Phil, but he’s listening.

“Tommy, you can— you can stay. I promise. We’ll adopt you.”

“Don’t say that,” Tommy chokes out immediately, breath picking back up. “I’ll— I’ll believe it, and then—”

He lets out an agonized cry, clutching his head.

And without hesitation, Phil leans forward & scoops Tommy into his arms.

That’s all it takes. Tommy crumbles.

Though his body goes limp, he still clings to Phil desperately as the imprint starts. Like he’s ready to be pushed away, or even hurt — an “emergency measure.”

And despite the haze of instincts, he’s sobbing by the end of it.

Phil loses track of how many times the kid chokes out, “I’m sorry.”

Or how many times he still flinches away from Phil’s hands, trembling when his instincts urge him to go right back.

That despite the imprint, he still can’t accept affection.

That it’s not for him.

“Here.”

Phil gently sets a stack of papers in front of Tommy. *Adoption* papers — Phil’s promise, actually kept.

But Tommy seems determined to let him break it.

“You… you still have time.”

Phil tenses at the look in Tommy’s eyes. Haunted, terrified, but resigned, too.

“It doesn’t say in the papers,” Tommy says, voice wavering on every word. “But you can— you know you can still undo the imprint, right?”

Phil’s heart drops. “What?”

Tommy strangles a panicked croon, words rushing out. “You’re— you’re not supposed to, it takes— takes a lot. But it’s an emergency, right? Right?”

He doesn’t have to elaborate. Phil understands.

Even before Tommy whispers, “I won’t fight back.”

And, like there’s no other option, like he already knows Phil’s answer…

He shuts down.

And nothing Phil does can get him to come back.

#mcyt #dsmp #dsmp au #sbi #sbi au #threadfic #technoblade #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot

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herrsherofsorrow · 1 year ago

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Both stories will take place in season 2 (also call Gojo’s Past Arc) but I won’t be following out the anime as it currently been make or the manga incase people who haven’t read the manga don’t get too much spoilers. (I can’t guaranteed that I won’t mention some things about the manga/anime)

Seer of Cursed: This story isn’t gonna be anything serious other than imagine Gojo, Getou, and Shoko being task with capturing and taking care of a 11-13 year old boy who has no cursed energy yet Cursed Spirits seem to be afraid on him? The three are to observe the boy until The Higher-ups decided what to do with him. Will the boy be killed off or used a tool? Doesn’t matter because Gojo isn’t going to let either one happen anyways.

Preview: It was late in the night as Gojo, Getou, and Shoko were being driven to their destinations. Shoko sat in the front seat as Getou and Gojo sat in the back, between Shoko and the driver rest a computer displacing a picture of a huge building. Shoko flipped through the pictures as the driver was giving a briefing of their mission, “Apparently, this built was a psychiatric hospital a place where people could go and stay to be treated. Over the years, family and friends of patients expressed concerns and complaints when noticing they were getting worse and on top of it patients were going missing or found dead, it closed down do to many health violations. The building was to be demolished but locals fought against that, it server be a reminder of the horrors that took place. Local rumors claimed the place to be haunted by those who died in the building. Others theorized that the building workers were performing inhuman experiments on unwilling patients so local school kids, college students from outside the prefecture, and others would visit it in hopes to communicate with the dead and subsequently go missing. As of recently, it was fenced off to the public but even that didn’t stop the distance when people in the area of the building go missing.” The last picture showed the entrance of building and a towering chain fence blocking any point of entry.

“I thought they already sent someone to deal with it?” Getou questioned whether he reminded Yaga of mentioning the building to him before he was assigned a different task.

“Please select the next file,” the driver asked Shoko who did so, a picture of a young boy ranging from the age of eleven and thirteen appeared. “Two sorcerers that were sent, returned heavily wounded, one of them barely conscious. The building had attracted multiple Cursed Spirits on the outside merely lower grades but when entering the building they were ambushed by many seemingly controlled by a Cursed Spirit, potentially a special grade, and wouldn’t survive if that boy hadn’t appeared.” Gojo let out a snicker when hearing two sorcerers were saved by a child. The driver ignored him and continued, “The picture you see here is {Name} {Last Name}, he was reported missing recently by many neighbors who claimed to not have seen the boy in weeks but their claims were dismissed until the boy’s school called in claiming the same thing. The police were given a warrant and searched the house to no avail, both of his parents were investigated, their stories never match on the boy’s disappearance and they are facing five years in prison for child neglect, although they might face murder charges despite there being no concrete evidence for such a thing.”

“And… we should know this because…?” This time Shoko asked.

The driver sighed, “The one sorcerer claimed to see the Cursed Spirits cowered away from the boy yet they didn’t sense any cursed energy from him. Yet, the boy placed his hand on said Special Grade causing it to wither away or simply exercising it immediately while the others ran away with the boy following after them. Your job is to deal with the remaining cursed spirits and to capture the boy. You will then keep an eye on him until further notice.” This caught the trio’s attention, someone so young has a powerful cursed technique.

A Mother’s Woes: Haibara Yu struggles to keep Jujustu a secret from his Mother, who is beginning to question his school. All seems to fail as his mother decided to get some answers for herself discovering not only the truth but a shocking revelation that her beloved husband had been at her side even after death. What will Yu do when he figures out his mother own discoveries? What will {Name} Haibara do now knowing the truth?

Preview: They stood on a concrete path that led to the front door of a house neither taking a step. Nanami was waiting for Yu to make a move but noticed how his friend was nervous and decided to place his hand on Yu’s shoulder giving it a squeeze in an attempt to comfort him. As for Yu to say he is nervous is an understatement, do get it wrong he wants to see his mother and sister after all it has been months since his last visit, that’s just not what he’s worried about and he has still yet to warn Nanami of it.

Yu took a deep breath at the contact and looked to his friend, “Kento, before we go in I have to warn you about-“

”YOOOO!” A familiar voice yells followed by someone else calling out their names, ”Nanami! Yu!” The two stiffened upon their names and slowly turned their heads to look behind them. Gojo with both of his arms up in the air waving them around wearing a grin on his face, Getou only had one arm in the air and waved it around, and Shoko simply waved at the two.

“What are you guys doing here? How?!” Yu demanded the trio as they made their way over to him and Nanami.

“Aww, we can’t join you on your family visit?” Gojo pouts, placing his arms around Yu and Nanami and behind them closer to him.

”You talk a lot about your mother and sister, we got curious.” Getou said.

”They bothered Yaga until he blurted out that you were taking time off to visit family and took Nanami with you,” Shoko informed but Gojo intervened, “Blah Blah Blah, what are we waiting for!” And began dragging the two towards the door with Getou and Shoko following behind.

“No- Wait!” Yu begged while trying to break free from Gojo’s grip but to no avail. ‘Shit Shit Shit’ Yu thought, this wasn’t going as planned. “Can-I have to tell you guys something-.” Just as they all reach the door, it opens to reveal a woman. But, that not what caught their attention behind the woman was a Special Grade Cursed. The air was tense, Yu hoped his mother couldn’t feel it as Gojo’s grip got slightly tighter.

“Yu, welcome home.” The voice of his mother rang out breaking the tension and he couldn’t help but let out a breath ‘she didn’t notice thank goodness’ he thought. Oh, how wrong he is.

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #getou suguru #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #nanami kento #haibara yu #female reader #male reader #jujutsu kaisen #child reader #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jujutsu sorcerer #mother reader

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datmoongamer · 5 months ago

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Massive Golden Age Cayde-1/2 and Micah Abram loredump

TFS spoilers. You have been warned.

Reddit mirror here.

TL;DR: Cayde played cards with Micah when her parents were busy sometime after he shot at her and grabbed her. She remembers. He doesn't.

I couldn't find a video of their full dialogue in this quest online, so here it is. Lotta important stuff regarding Cayde-1/Cayde-2(?), Micah Abram, and how much they remember today.

Bolded text: what you came here for.

Asterisk*: Supplemental lore linked at the bottom.

Video of the full dialogue (minus the quest intro in the Arbor of Light): youtube link

(Didn't record Micah's beginning dialogue about Anwar*. It was about how Anwar was a close associate of the Speaker and that although he was interested in Darkness, he was unflinchingly loyal. If anyone did, please drop a link!)

The Final Shape Looms

Three days before the allied assault.

(Guardian approaches the Pyramid)

Cayde-6: Europa- I ain't even there, and I can feel all that cold in my bones.*

Micah-10: Do... you remember Europa, Cayde?

Cayde-6: Bits and pieces, yeah. I ain't a big fan of numbers lower than six, but there's still pieces of them in here, rattling chains. Haunting.

(Guardian runs into Cabal)

Micah-10: Guardian, my fears were correct. Anwar's signal was last detected inside the Europan Pyramid. Complicating matters, you aren't alone here.

There is a detachment of Cabal that landed a few hours ago. Elsie sent me data on their movements.

Ghost: They don't appear to be Witness-aligned forces. This could be more of Otzot's people.

Micah-10: I'd heard rumors of some fracturing after Calus's death, but... I don't know what to make of this.

Cayde-6: Well, some people feel more comfortable with a leash around their neck... whether it's guiding them to behave, or misbehave.

(Guardian enters the Pyramid)

Cayde-6: Seems as though the Cabal have made it inside the Pyramid.

Micah-10: Scans from Ghost show movement near the heart of the structure and unsettling activity inside.

It's like the Pyramid is reacting to your presence, anticipating something.

Cayde-6: Did you ever figure out who was flying this? Crow gave me a lowdown on the situation, and that part was, y'know, suspiciously blank.

Micah-10: We did not.

(Guardian moves through the Pyramid)

Micah-10: Cayde? Do you remember anything from your first Exo incarnation?*

Cayde-6: Some. Ain't... exactly happy to talk about what I do, either.

Micah-10: Was there a child?

Cayde-6: I think. I don't know. I remember bits and pieces. Shadows of faces. It's all... it's a jumble. Micah. Why?

Micah-10: [sighs] It's nothing. It can wait for a more private moment.

(Guardian enters the statue room)

Cayde-6: Oh, that's one of those big, screamy statues.

A dissenter: What is done must be undone. Your time is running out. Your time is running out!

Cayde-6: Aaand they're screaming here too. Cool.

(Guardian kills Valus Dralgur, the Exiled)

Ghost: I'm having a hard time picking up Anwar's signal. It stops here, at the statue.

Micah-10: Oh. [exhales] Oh no...

Elsie just... found him. [clears throat] Shards of him. Anwar. At the Ziggurat.

Ghost. I... No... He's dead?

Micah-10: We should go collect his remains.

Ghost: We'll go right away. I'm... so sorry, Micah.

Micah-10: [sighs] Me too, Ghost.

Cayde-6: Hey, kid. Why don't I come down and meet you? We can chat about whatever. Anything, your pick.

Ghost: Thank you, Cayde.

The Veiled

Return to the Arbor of Light to discuss next steps.

Micah-10: I've... [sighs] never told anyone this, but I knew Cayde. Before he was a Guardian. Before I was a Guardian.

We were both on Europa, before the Collapse. I found out about it after the BrayTech facilities on Europa were unearthed.

I... know Guardians aren't supposed to go digging into their pasts, but I did. I found my Exomind archive... [takes deep breath] I found myself.*

[sighs] Micah Abram. I grew up on Europa, and even then, I was struggling to understand my identity, in so many ways.

As a child, I was having dreams- visions sent to me by the Traveler. I didn't understand them then, but I do now... It was preparing me.

For this. For loss. For losing people. Like Anwar. Like Cayde.

Cayde was the personal bodyguard of an Ishtar Collective researcher named Maya Sundaresh. He was an Exo before I entered the program.

He... helped me. When my fathers were away on work, Cayde would talk to me. Play cards. Teach me how to cope with isolation.*

Cayde doesn't remember. And... that's OK.

I can hug him, one last time. And remind him that he was missed. That he saved me.

*Anwar: Ghost Stories: Pressure. He and another Ghost, Dejana, search the ruins of Tower North and talk about the Speaker.

*Cayde on Europa: Legacy's Oath Helm. Cayde-6 has a flashback about Cayde-1, who was guarding an Exoscience factory with Knox-4. A kid (Micah Abram) startles him, and Cayde-1 shoots at her (she was a young boy at the time).

*The child Micah asks about: Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 5, Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 6. Micah Abram tries to sneak into an Exoscience factory. She is disturbed by the conversation the guard Exos- Cayde-1 and Knox-4- are having, so she runs, but she's caught by Cayde-1. Cayde-1 shuts down after catching her. Micah escapes.

*Cayde and Maya Sundaresh: Cayde's Treasure Island Book. The journal of the previous versions of Cayde. Cayde-2 (or Cayde-1?) was a bodyguard for Maya Sundaresh, and he was in love with her.

*Micah, before the Exomind project: Embraced Identity. Micah Abram, 17, female.

*Micah's dreams and her busy parents: Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 7. Her parents were busy. She had dreams about being an Exo before she became one.

Micah's gender: She was female when she entered the Exomind project, which means she transitioned before she became an Exo. Your Friend, Micah Abram: LETTER 2 has her saying she'll grow a beard and her father, Wesley, says he has a son in Lost Lament: Locate Dead Exos.

Ace and Queen: Cayde-6 — Mementos from the Wild. Once upon a time, there was probably a real Ace and Queen, but Cayde-6 does not remember them, as per The Man They Call Cayde: Bad Beat. It is likely that his imagined versions of Ace and Queen are based on Micah and Maya.

#destiny 2 #cayde-6 #micah-10 #micah abram #destiny lore

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