#sorry for any typos or missing/messy words i am too tired to go back and check.

[daz4i]

I'm gonna be a very self-indulgent kinnie here but lemme tell you the idea i got. don't read too deep into what it says abt me tho ok? 🧐

so anyway. current day atsushi - has been with the ada for awhile - gets hit with an ability that transports him to the past. around 4 yeard ago, in fact. he finds himself exactly where the ability hit him, so, some random warehouse in yokohama really

he starts walking around, maybe back to the agency, to see if they can help him get back to his time

but alas. there's not much they can do (really at first they don't even believe him until ranpo says he's telling the truth). they say they'll help however they can but like. nothing much to do here really

so he continues roaming the city, hoping to maybe find someone who could help him, even considering going to the mafia in his desperation, but on his way there he barely manages to notice someone pickpocket him and starts chasing them, eventually cornering them in an alley to take his wallet back

and that person. is freshly defected dazai, looking more distressed than atsushi has ever seen him (darker eyebags, skinny, empty eyes with not a shred of light in them, messy clothes that barely fit him)

so. they're both 18. both lost, in their own way. but atsushi is more secure in who he is and where he should be than dazai at this point in time. so he asks if he can help him. i mean the time ability is either gonna wear off or he'll find someone with a similar one to just transport him back maybe, so until then he may as well pass the time with a younger version of his mentor. also dazai certainly has some ties who may be able to help him... right...?

so, dazai takes him to where he's currently living. it's a bit of a dump, a dinky apartment, barely furnished, very messy and quite dirty

there is no food in the fridge and dazai points out this is why he was even out pickpocketing in the first place. he has quite a lot of money stashed away, but he knew that withdrawing too much of it might attract attention he can't afford to have on him right now when he's supposed to lay low, so he got enough for the apartment and just. didn't consider food in the process. he is not used to thinking about it

atsushi can see. that dazai is doing the bare minimum to survive right now

he stays over at his place with him - having nowhere else, and it's not like dazai cares one way or another - and at night he can hear dazai having nightmares (calling for odasaku, sobbing in his sleep, waking up constantly and failing to get back to sleep)

in turn, every once in awhile, dazai can hear atsushi have his own nightmares, about the orphanage and the trauma he got since getting out of there too (watching akutagawa die....... even if he came back I'm certain it was traumatizing)

atsushi tells dazai about it. about his past, and his future - leaving out information about dazai's own, for now, due to being unsure how it'll affect things and fearing it may destabilize the timeline somehow

but dazai catches on - atsushi recognized him when they first met. so, clearly he knows him in the future. that means that he made it, and 4 years from now, he's still alive

he can't really figure out if he succeeded tho, if he fulfilled oda's wish. he tries to piece together from atsushi's stories whether or not he became good like he wants to, or if he failed and gone back to the mafia, or worse

eventually atsushi lets smth slip. and dazai catches him, and starts asking questions more directly. seeing how the world didn't explode from the small thing he accidentally said, atsushi decides he may as well go all out, and tells dazai everything, about how he saved him from drowning, about how dazai got him in the agency, how he helped him. he also mentions dazai setting him up as a duo with akutagawa and dazai is kind of surprised at that (mainly that the akutagawa he knew, who kills without thinking, is now willing to work with someone else, and even made a promise not to kill anyone for 6 months)

they keep talking. clearly, this is getting to dazai, so atsushi suggests they go outside to get some fresh air. they wander around, still talking (while trying to maintain a relatively low profile), and eventually they come to the river where they first met 4 years later. they sit on the grass and watch the water as it goes. atsushi mentioned seeing dazai try to kill himself here many times. dazai laughs and points out that it does sound like him. and then

"so... you're saying, 4 years from now, I'll be here? saved by you?"

"and saving me, too! i would've starved if you hadn't taken me in."

dazai thinks for a second. "i save people? i... i'm on the side of good?"

atsushi smiles, "i think so. i don't know if I'd call us good, but we certainly do our best to save people, yes." he can see that dazai looks... hesitant, almost. "and we couldn't have done it without you! ever since i joined, at least, your plans carried us through adversary. i would've been dead a few times over if it weren't for you, haha."

something seems to sink in. the light of the sunset reflects in dazai's eyes as he looks at the boy in front of him. atsushi thinks about how they're not so different, at this point in time. he doesn't know what's weighing on dazai's mind - doesn't know about odasaku, or the promise he made to him - but he could seemingly just tell what dazai needed to hear.

and it seems to hit home. the light filled eyes shut, and tears start to stream from them.

it just. seems so hard to believe. right now, dazai is barely hanging on, filled with doubt on whether or not he could make it - barely even wanting to, really. it takes all his power to not just throw himself in the river in front of him again. but that'd be breaking his promise to odasaku. he saved people, yes, but not yet. he still has to get there, first. it's so hard to survive, but he has to, now. if only so atsushi could one day get back here and tell him all that.

he doesn't cry loudly, or sob, just shaking a little. it's embarrassing how good it feels to just let it out, honestly

atsushi is in a bit of a shock. this is definitely the most emotions he's ever seen his mentor express. but... this isn't his mentor, not yet. it's just a kid, as lost as he once was, forced to grow up too fast without knowing how to be a person yet.

there's not much atsushi can do, so he goes for the ol reliable, and hugs dazai.

the man freezes in shock, the trembling in his shoulders stops.

and then there is a flash of white. no longer human takes effect, nullifying the ability cast on atsushi. before either of them can tell what's going on - meeting each other's eyes one last time, for the next 4 years - atsushi gets transported back to the present.

the battle seems to be over, only a few minutes passed, even though he lived through a few days. other ada members surround him, some of them demanding to know where (when) he's been. he just smiles.

on their way back to the agency, he asks dazai to walk with him behind everyone else. after seeing the other members get far enough, atsushi immediately hugs him, noting how different he feels from his younger self - more stable, even somewhat confident despite being surprised by the gesture.

"I'm glad you made it through. I'm proud of you," he says while his face is buried in dazai's shoulder.

dazai seems surprised, but hugs him back. if he remembers the event 4 years ago, it's unclear to atsushi. he just feels a warm smile and bright eyes look at him, filled with their own pride.

...and that's it that's all i have. i am not gonna turn this into an actual oneshot but feel free to take inspiration if you'd like, just please tag me if you do :3

making myself emotional thinking abt impossible interactions between characters

[azaleablueme]

Heart to Heart

Genre: Romance/Angst Words: 3.6K Era: HBP Rating: T 

Summary: Ron wakes up to an unexpected guest in the middle of the night after he has been poisoned.

This fic is not edited and all errors/typos you find are mine. Apologies in advance.

Ron opened his eyes hours later to a silent, dimly lit room.  As he lay still, soaking in the quiet of the infirmary, he realised his brain was still a little fuzzy.  Thankfully, the strange buzzing in his ears he had woken up with the first time had lessened, although the bitter aftertaste of the potion Madam Pomfrey had fed him still persisted. He was only wondering if his limbs would cooperate this time when a soft sob broke in internal musings.

He’d know that sound anywhere- she was there.

The infirmary was lit with the softest of lights, and yet somehow he could see her clearly. The robe had been discarded but other than that she was still in her school uniform, perhaps she had come down after the last patrol? Her messy curls looked as if she had not bothered to comb through, while slumped shoulders shook with the softest of whimpers. And despite her dishevelled appearance, Ron couldn’t tear his eyes off her form- she was the most beautiful thing he had seen in… well… a great many months. 

As much as he hated when she cried, worse when it was because of something he had done, he was really glad to find her next to him. Unless… she was a vision… born out of his deepest desires. He continued to watch her, trying hard to not to blink, dreading every second that the vision would disappear if he looked away.

As his eyes got more accustomed to the lack of light, he could see her better, notice every little detail. Was it possible for a vision to be so ...accurate? Her cheeks were just the perfect shade, although it appeared paler in a tired sort of way. She looked smaller than ever, hunched at the very edge of his bed, head bent low. He noticed her ink-stained fingers as she swiped a hand over her face, wiping off the moisture, gaze fixed on, what he could only assume, was his hand.

Despite all the little things that pointed out that Hermione had indeed sneaked into the infirmary to visit him, he was still scared to hope she was anything more than his brains playing tricks. Perhaps it was more addled than he had thought earlier. Hermione, he reckoned sadly, would never come to see him in the dead of the night, nor cry over him after the utter mess they had made of their life, their friendship… and whatever it was that truly defined his relationship with her. He didn’t deserve it anymore.

But, he thought, the twins had mentioned her, and Harry, of course. They had visited him before he regained consciousness. But it had to be hours ago. He didn’t have the faintest clue how long he had slept but it was definitely past midnight, already; she wasn’t even supposed to be outside the Gryffindor Common Room at this hour.

Could she come back for him? Break school rules? He knew, his Hermione would… She’d stay outside the doors of the infirmary, magic them open against the rules if she really wanted to see him…

He lifted his hand without conscious thought and was both surprised and immensely relieved when his fingers felt soft skin instead of vapour.

Hermione let out a small gasp, her bloodshot eyes meet his, and Ron held his breath while she placed her hand gingerly over his.

Her touch was everything.  

Gently, he swiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb, and she let out another whimper. Suddenly she flung her arms around his shoulders and collapsed on his chest, muffled sobs reaching right to his heart, while her tears stained his shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to himself until she was practically lying on top of him. Ron inhaled deeply, breathing in her familiar fragrance, reminding himself that it wasn’t just a dream, not this time.

It felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long, like being found after being lost for an eternity. It felt like finding where he truly belonged- like coming home after a long, perilous journey.

At some point his fingers entangled in her hair as she snuggled deeper into his embrace, their breaths coming in tandem like the ebb and flow of a sea that covers miles to find the shore. Slowly the intensity of her sobs ebbed, but Ron held her on.

They had hugged before, they were best friends after all, but ever since he’d realised he fancied her, his teenage heart had dreamt up thousands if not a million scenarios where Hermione ran into his arms. But, lying together in a dark, silent hospital bed, after a close brush with death, Ron figured he had never truly understood before today what it meant to have her in his arms.

He had no clue how long they remained that way- entwined in each other, it could have been hours and yet, when she pulled her arms away and pushed herself up, it felt way too soon.

Disentangling herself from his embrace, she perched herself at the edge of his bed, her legs folded under her, her expressions unreadable. For a minute there, he was worried she’d leave without a word, but when she continued to watch him, he sighed in relief and scooted aside to give her more space.

For the first time in months, there was a comfortable silence between them. He had expected both of them to be awkward after that hug, but somehow it felt natural. How was that even possible?  

Hermione looked exhausted, and his heart cursed himself for everything he was putting her through - had been putting her through these few months. He managed to push himself into a sitting position and her knees nudged his thighs. Hermione didn’t move away, nor scooted. It was almost unbelievable that she was next to him, alone. Only now he truly grasped what was missing from his life, how sorely he’d been missing a crucial part of himself.

Unable to phrase his thoughts in words, he continued to soak in the warmth of her presence. It had been way too long since they sat at such close proximity, way too long since he had seen her properly. Up close he could see those freckles that peppered the bridge of her nose, the tear-stained face and eyes that seemed to have spent many nights without proper sleep.  

“I hate you…” she said hoarsely after a long moment, and despite all the hurt, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard- she was speaking to him.

“I know…” he confessed, throat still aching as he spoke. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, pooling over with fresh tears and lips quivered as if to say something else before she looked away with a huff.

“And I am still not talking to you…” she added, looking at the bed adjacent to his. There was more sadness in those words than anger.

“I know that too…” he replied. Did she know how hopelessly he was in love with her? Did she know she held all his dreams, all his hopes? Perhaps she did, perhaps she didn’t…

This time she let out a sound of extreme frustration and turned around to face him properly.  Pulling her knees close to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them. She seemed to be struggling to reign in her emotions and trying to find words adequate enough to express her indignation at the same time.  

She was barmy but he was barmy about her. Who was he kidding, he’d never get over her no matter how much he tried. After all, that’s what he had been doing all these months, trying to curb his feelings for her, trying to give up his hopes of being loved by her. But it was a stupid attempt. In the end, he knew, he'd swap snogging to bickering with her any day- unless, she was the one he was snogging, obviously...

He looked away quickly. He couldn't think of snogging now, no matter how much he wanted to. She was much too close, the wait incredibly long already. And most of all, there were a lot many webs that had to be untangled first. Most importantly, he couldn’t afford to give her any more reasons to be mad at him.

Maybe Hermione didn’t appreciate him, maybe she didn’t think he wasn’t brave enough or good enough, but he couldn’t stop loving her like he did, insanely, irrevocably. He was long past that point.

“I was so scared…” she said at long last, biting her bottom lip as a fat tear rolled down and she hastily wiped it away.

“I’m sorry…”

She rested her head on her knees and began tracing patterns on the bed as she spoke.

“Every year, we fear losing Harry to Voldemort… And I know, if such a time comes, you’ll stand before him and … death... And…” she sucked in a breath as he continued to watch mesmerised, “-as much as I know it, it never fails to scare the life out of me… today… yesterday, I mean, I realised… how… how …” She buried her face into her arms, unable to go on, and Ron placed his hand gently on her wrist.

“I’m okay… and ...I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, voiced muffled, “You didn’t get poisoned by choice,”

“No,” he replied, “but I’m sorry for all the stress I caused,”

She lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes. His heart, Ron was sure, skipped quite a few beats.

“You apologise for something you couldn’t help, but you…” she paused and looked away. “How could you, Ron?” she asked after a while, and even with a fuzzy brain, he didn’t need her to explain what she was talking about.

He had temporarily forgotten all about Lavender. With her memories came guilt. He let go of Hermione’s wrist and fisted his fingers to curb the urge of holding her again. Why the fuck had he messed up his life so much?

“Months, Ron? Months and months…” she added and shook her head sadly before turning away from him. She let out a sigh of indignation and made to leave the bed; Ron caught her arm instinctively, half-formed words hanging from his lips.

“Please…” he begged, not knowing what else to say.

It had seemed right at that moment.

Lavender had taken the step he and Hermione never could manage. The day he found out about Krum had been his worst ever. His morale had hit an all-time low. His brain had convinced him that what he desired would never come to fruition. She didn’t even trust his abilities as a Keeper, how would she trust him with her heart? And then he had found the admiration in Lavender’s eyes, the one that he had craved from Hermione since a time he couldn’t even remember. And, he was a sixteen-year-old bloke with raging hormones, for Merlin sake! It was all so easy to get carried away. Lavender liked him. There was no competition, no need to prove himself. But no matter how many hours he spent snogging Lavender, Hermione was almost always at the back of his mind; she was the one who ruled his thoughts, crept into his dreams. And that had never changed. In hindsight, he was being unfair to both the girls, one who he was with but didn’t fancy, the other he was barmy about but couldn’t confess.

“It doesn’t matter to you, does it? Our friendship...My fe-”  she stopped abruptly and wiped her eyes on the back of the sleeve of her free hand.

“-you know that’s not true, Hermione,” he interjected, grabbing her hand harder. He considered it a good sign that she wasn’t pulling away. Blimey, this girl could turn his world upside down, hurt him or heal him, but she’d still be his world.

Hermione however, unaware of his internal musings, laughed bitterly. “I don’t know, do I, Ron?” she paused, turning sideways to look deeply into his eyes, searching. “I really thought I knew, y’know…” she added softly, sadly.  

Ron pushed aside the lingering doubt forcefully as he tugged on her arm, forcing her to turn completely towards him.  He took her hands in his, covering her fingers with his long ones. He might have had to face a near-death experience, but life had given him a second chance, and he wasn’t going to blow it this time.

“Hermione, I … I was mad…” he managed.

He had come to see her reasons a long time ago. It had been the same with her, hadn’t it? After all, she said as much during their infamous row after the Yule Ball... She had been waiting for him, and the dickhead that he was, he hadn’t even realised. Krum had just taken the initiative like Lavender had.

“You were mad?! About what, may I ask? And okay, alright, you were mad about something I did, but how was I to know if you didn't tell me? I deserved to know, didn’t I?” she said in a breath. She tried freeing her hands to wipe her tears away but Ron beat her to it, wiping the moisture off tenderly from both her cheeks. Some drops still clung to her lashes, candlelight glinting off them.

“I deserved to know too, Hermione…” he explained softly, “-from you… not Harry and certainly not from Ginny…”

He saw realisation hit her as she gaped at him for one solid minute before averting her eyes.

“W-what are you talking about?” Well, she just had to challenge him, didn’t she? Of course, she did.

“Never mind…” he replied, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and tracing the fine veins with his fingers. On a normal day, he would've spent hours gathering enough courage to touch her in a friendly way. But tonight something had changed within him. Maybe it was the aftereffect of almost dying? Maybe a near-death experience made people braver? Bolder realising that, without his friend’s timely action, he’d have lost the chance of baring his heart to her, forever?

“Oh come on!” she cried, tired of his silence perhaps, and he hushed her before both of them turned towards the nurse’s chamber simultaneously. Hermione pulled out her wand from her pocket and cast a Muffliato. Ron grinned to himself but let it slide.

Finally, she turned towards him again. “I had made up my mind- wasn’t going to talk to you ever.” Her voice cracked.  “I’m tired, Ron!” she continued anyway, “I’m just exhausted trying to figure out what I could’ve possibly done to deserve getting a cold shoulder from you when… when we… when everything was... fine between us! And then... then you …” she pulled her hand out of his and folded them at her chest. “I hate you…” she stated but with little conviction.

“Deserve it too…”

She glared at him hard, and Ron couldn’t help smile at the familiar sight. Carefully, he pried her arms apart and took them in his larger ones, rubbing the pad of his thumbs over her open palms, tracing the many crisscrossing lines. Trelawney once told them that the lines on the palm described one’s future. He didn’t really believe her unless she was in one of her trances, but tonight he found himself wondering if his fate lines intersected with hers at some point in their lives.  

“I’m sorry, Hermione... for everything… “ he said, “I didn’t really have the right to be upset… It’s just that…”

“What was it, Ron?” she asked, words laced with exhaustion and pain.

He looked at her, weighing his options. He’d perhaps never get another chance like this, with just the two of them. He focused on her hands while he spoke. He could do with a gulp of water but it had to wait.

“Harry and I caught Ginny and Dean snogging… And I got mad at her and…” he glanced at Hermione who was watching him, brows furrowed, “ y'know… never mind... forget it...”

“Ron!”

He sighed and began again, forcing himself to finish. “And Ginny said… you … you snogged Krum…” he noticed her fluster and spoke quickly, eager to get over the conversation. “I-I know I’ve no right to be upset but…” She inhaled sharply and tried pulling her hands away but he held on. He had more to say, much to explain. “I just… y’know...expected you to tell me yourself…”

“Well, Ron…” she paused and cleared her throat, “You’ve paid me back in kind, haven’t you?” she whispered while her voice shook and eyes pooled again. “ -by snogging her in front of me, for weeks… How would you feel if I did the same?”

His grip on her arms hardened and she winced and he quickly let go.

“Sorry…” he said again.

 He had thought about that too. As mad as he was to know after two whole years that Krum had snogged her, it would be nothing compared to the pain of seeing them in the act. He'd have murdered that bloke, or died. Perhaps both. 

“This isn’t a competition…” he replied at last.  He thought of the troll McLaggan she had invited to Slughorn’s party but decided not to bring him up. He traced his finger tenderly over her knuckles; he couldn’t explain it but he seemed to need her touch constantly.

“It isn’t?” she asked.

“C’mon, Hermione! I...I didn’t hide or  lie...”

“No, Ron, you didn’t lie. Just rubbed it on my face!” she cried, this time succeeding in pulling her hands from his. “I was fourteen, Ron! He was the one guy who asked me, and not just as a last resort because the ‘good ones’ were gone!”

Ron cringed. “‘M not denying I was a prat!” he replied, his throat aching with the effort but ignoring it. “And neither am I blaming you for it,” he added softly. “I was barking mad at first but that’s not your problem... Just sayin’ you could’ve told me at least, couldn’t you? You told Ginny!”

Hermione averted his eyes, sheepish, and her reply lacked the bite from earlier “And you’d have been very understanding, wouldn’t you, Ron?” she asked quietly.

He avoided that question. “You told Harry too,” he said instead.

“That’s just not the same…”

“Really, why, I wonder...” he whispered, but she heard him anyway and turned around on him.

“You still wonder why?!” she huffed, shook her head exasperatedly and got off the bed.  “I’m leaving. This is a useless argument... You’ll be out of the hospital and go back to eating her face in front of everyone again, anyway...” she muttered as she dusted the back of her skirt.

“No, I won’t…” She paused in her step and turned once again to face him.

“Don’t tell me you are tired of snogging her?”

“It just wasn’t about snogging…” She laughed derisively. “Okay, it was a fair bit about snogging…” he added and she scoffed.  “-but she liked me for who I am… she didn’t think I was useless…”

Her expression changed from shock to disbelief to hurt in a matter of seconds.

“You… You think I consider you useless?! Are you absolutely crazy?!”

“You don’t?”

She gave him the same look McGonagall gave the Slytherin trolls, Crabbe and Goyle, and then muttered furiously to herself as she hopped off the bed and began searching for something among his blankets, perhaps her robes.

“Can’t hear you,” he stated.

“I’ve to leave,” she replied in a flat voice and continued rummaging through the tangled blankets.

“You’ve been here for a while, surely you can stay a little longer,”

She stopped her search and took two measured steps towards him. “I just came here to see if you are okay,” she said, absentmindedly setting his bedsheet straight. “I should leave now…”

“Why did you break the rules for me, Hermione?” he asked suddenly.

He was expecting her to leave his question unanswered again but surprising him as only Hermione could, she came further ahead to stand next to his bed.

“Don’t ask questions that can’t, shouldn’t be answered,” she replied sadly, looking at the many potion bottles Madame Pomfrey had left on the table. Who knew what thoughts were running through that brilliant head of hers. But her expressions softened after a while and so did her tone when she finally spoke.

“Maybe you’ll never understand, Ron…And maybe I’m okay with it...”

“Why can’t you explain?”

“I’ve tried… you just don’t want to see… I can’t… can’t be upfront like ...others… or say it on your face, there is so much on the line...  doesn’t mean I don’t…”

She came closer to arranged his fringe out of his eyes and placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing off the dried traces of potion from the edge of his lips with the pad of her thumb, and Ron grabbed her hand at her wrist; his heart was surely going a thousand miles an hour. He tugged on her arm and she was suddenly back on the bed, their faces so close he could make out the dry tear patches on her cheeks, he could count the freckles on her nose, see how pretty her eyes were, see how those lashes curled, he could see the moisture glint off her lips...

“You know we can’t… There’s too much-” Her voice was a murmur, reaching his heart.

“-on the line?” he asked.

She smiled sadly, “Yes, and it’s not fair… to any of us…”

“Then we’ve got to set it right, don’t we?”

She didn’t reply.

“‘Ermione…” he called, and her eyes looked up and met his, a thousand unspoken words visible on those brilliant brown orbs.

“I’ll make it all okay… I swear…”

“You will?”

“Yeah,” he promised. “I have to...Life just isn’t life without you…”

[x-men-x-imagines]

Imagine #10 Charles Xavier (Logan Howlett?) - Part 2

Requested by Anon: Hi love I just found your tumblr and its amazing, and I was wondering if you’re planning to write a part two of the Charles Xavier imagine where the reader has siren powers? 💗

 Requested by Anon: Hii could you do an imagine where you have the ability to make everyone horny who touches here (like Alisha in Misfits if you have seen it) and she is barraly 18. she has a thing for for Charles and Logan and yeah… I love your blog ❤ 

 Not my gif

Words: 2181

Warnings: Swears, fem!reader, angst-ish, typos

A/N: Well, both these requests are from months ago and I am really sorry! I’m also sorry for not uploading in weeks. I’m really busy right now with my brother moving in and my other brother behaving like a twat, uni is killing me and I have a date tomorrow, which is probably going to be a fucking disaster, since I have neither confidence nor social skills. Also, I have no idea, why every Part 2 to whatever I write turns into angst. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! xoxo

Part 1

You could see the mansion from all the way down the street, its roof peaking through the scanty green of the early April trees. You hadn’t been here in a long time. And if you were completely honest, you had to admit that the way you had left hadn’t exactly been the behaviour of a young, well-mannered lady. The past years you had been trying to blame it on your mutation, but at least saying goodbye wouldn’t have hurt anyone, that you couldn’t argue with.

Seriously though, you thought, as your reluctant steps brought you closer and closer to the last place you wanted to be, what were you doing here again? You had always hated confrontation, nothing had changed about that after you had left Charles and the others. But you had also never in your life felt as bad as the months after you had disappeared without notice.

Something by the side of the road caught your eye and you kneeled down in front of the weather-worn plate that was laying in the grass a few steps away from the familiar gate. ‘Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters’, it read in big, clear letters and a strange mixture of pride and sadness took hold of you. So he had actually done it, you thought, Charles had managed to make this place an actual school. You knew that it had been his biggest dream, the thing he had been working for the hardest and the longest. Which made it even worse, that the times of Xavier’s school evidently were over already. Charles would never have something of his lying around like that, you thought and got back on your feet.

The closer you got to the mansion, the clearer it became to you, that the school itself wasn’t the only thing about this place that wasn’t going well. The windows were dirty from rain and nature; the driveway was covered in last fall’s leaves. The garden hadn’t been looked after at all and, the most peculiar detail, the front door was standing far open, opening the view to the dark and more than messy foyer.

Suddenly, you were all too sure that you didn’t want to see, what was going on here, and at the same time knew, that this was the moment, in which you had to take the steps that you’d been dreading for years. Dammit, you thought, as your feet carried you towards the few steps in front of the main portal.

You stepped over the threshold, just in time to see something fly across the staircase and land on the other side, just slightly out of your sight. It – him, as you realized – groaned and tried to get up, just in time to be hit by another flying… person? You didn’t know what to do, surreally, you felt like laughing, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the fact that the man was being thrown across the room once again. You made a step back and furrowed and kneaded your hands nervously, as the second person/creature jumped into the chandelier, whilst continuing his indescribable screaming and roaring.

“Hank, what’s going on here?”, you heard a very familiar voice and felt your breath catch in your chest, as a third man stepped into the picture. You couldn’t see him properly in the dimmed light of the foyer, but oh, you recognized him immediately. This, you thought, was the definition of bad timing.

“Professor.”, the first stranger said. “Wait, you know this guy?”, the chandelier-dangling… person added. “Ugh, he looks slightly familiar. Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank!”

It took you a moment to notice, because you hadn’t at all been expecting it, but once you realized, you couldn’t unhear it: The professor was mumbling, his words more like a stream of indefinable noises. Which could be explained with the glass of whiskey in his hand. Oh no, you thought, not being able to suppress your disappointed groan. What the hell was going on here?

Three pairs of eyes met yours and for a second nobody said a word. “I’m sorry, were you expecting someone, professor?”, the first stranger asked, his voice sarcastic. You didn’t like his tone, but the scurrility of the situation still made you laugh uncomfortably.

“Looks like this is gonna be a hell of a tea party.”, you mumbled and immediately regretted it, seeing the familiar spark in the three men’s eyes, even in the dimmed light of the foyer. “I take that as a ‘no’, then.”, the first man replied. The professor didn’t say a word, but after a moment, he tumbled forward and dropped down on the stairs in a way, that would have had the Charles you knew complain about everything, from his manners to his getup. What had happened to him?

Your eyes fell on the third person in the room and as you noticed the familiar face structure beneath the bizarre, blue fur that was covering his body from head to toe, you recalled the name that Charles had called him by. “Hank?”, you asked, your voice high in confusion. “Hank McCoy?”

“The one and only.”, he replied, suddenly sounding tired, as his face started to return back to a human colour. Did I miss out on something, you wanted to ask, but you already knew the answer. Of course, you had, and it was your own fault. Your guilt hit you with the force of a rhino. “Long time no see.”, you murmured, lowering your gaze towards your gloved hands.

“So, this is what? A family reunion?”, the first man asked. “If it were a family reunion, what would you be doing here?”, Charles asked. You hadn’t expected him to say a word and your eyes met with his immediately. You tried to smile, but you weren’t sure, if his sharp words were directed at you or the stranger. Probably both.

“Well, I’m here to ask for your help.”, the stranger replied, before interrupting himself. “Wait, you can walk?” Silence.

“Wait, what?” You stepped towards the three men, not knowing where to look. Right now, the stranger seemed the safest bet, which was something you had never thought before. You didn’t dare to look at Charles, and Hank… well, he obviously didn’t dare to look at you. “What do you mean, he can walk?”, you repeated, ignoring the stranger’s eyes looking you up and down. You knew it wasn’t his fault. It was your mutation, your… gift.

“So, you don’t know him that well, then?” It hurt, it hurt like a bitch. But the man couldn’t possibly know that and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell anyone. No, obviously, you thought, you didn’t know him that well, not any more. “No.”, was all you said.

“What are you doing here, y/n?” It was Hank, now looking like his human self again, stepping towards you. You could tell that he wasn’t sure whether to hug you or to kick you out. You had been friends. Once, years ago, you reminded yourself.

“What happened here?”, you asked. “The place, it’s…” “Wrecked? Thank you for your input.”, Charles interrupted. You didn’t know why you weren’t expecting to hear his voice. Maybe it was less about his voice than about his tone. You deserved it, but it hurt. Which you probably also deserved. “Charles, I’m…” “You’re overstepping your boundaries. This is private property.” “Charles, I…” “As for you.”, Charles spit towards the stranger. “Why should I help you with anything? I don’t know you and I don’t care.”

“Because I was sent here for you and I’m sure, you’ll want to help me in this matter.” “Well, it’s a shame that I’m busy right now, I would have loved to hear the story behind some Canadian punk breaking into my house and telling me…” “Technically, Beast let me in.” “Technically, he entered against my…” “Hank!”

“Stop it!”, you interrupted and to your enormous surprise, the men actually listened. What was going on here? Charles never hesitated to help anyone, neither friend, nor stranger. And Charles never had to ask anyone about their stories. Their stories came to him and often he had a hard time keeping them out, or at least that’s what he had told you. And Charles definitely wouldn’t leave this place rotting like that. He loved this house! This wasn’t the Charles you knew. Or had known. “What happened to the school, Charles?”

He groaned and took another sip from his whiskey, before getting up on his feet and turning away from you. “You can both piss off.”, he shouted over his shoulder, tumbling up the stairs. “Hank, show them the door.” But that wasn’t necessary, at least not for you.

“Y/n, wait!” It was Hank, but you ignored him, if anything, you increased the pace with which you left the mansion behind you. God, was this your fault? You didn’t even want to hear the answer to that. “Y/n!”

You were roughly four steps away from the gate, when a hand got hold of your arm and you froze for a split-second. Panic flooded your system and you ripped your arm free before realizing that you were wearing a jacket. He hadn’t touched your skin. You turned around to look at Hank. “He didn’t mean it like that.”, he insisted, the same caring expression in his eyes, that they had always worn years ago. “Didn’t he? I would have.”, you managed to say, before tears started running down your cheeks. “I came here to apologize and I… I was prepared for his disappointment, his anger, but… but this? What happened here, Hank? What…?”

“Shhhh.”, Hank hissed, obviously not knowing what to do, but wanting to do something, anything to help you. He started to awkwardly stroke your arm and you jumped once again, a reflex to what could have happened. What had happened in the past. “It’ll be fine.”

“Will it, really?”, you howled, not able to contain yourself. “He used to help people. No matter, who they were. And now he won’t even talk to the guy? He won’t even listen to me?”

“Why don’t you come back inside?” You didn’t argue with that. This place had been your home, even if just for a few weeks. You had never felt more at home, than in your time with Charles. And all that was left of that time was your guilt and the run down house in front of you.

The stranger was still sitting in the foyer and he didn’t look particularly happy either. “This went well.”, he said and looked at you accusingly. “Who are you?”, he asked.

“An old friend. My name is y/n.”, you replied tiredly. “Define friend.”, the stranger murmured, eyeing your undoubtedly red and puffy face. You didn’t care. “You’re one to talk.” He grinned and shook his head. “I’m Logan. So, what did you do to piss off the professor? I mean, the way I know him, it’s practically impossible to get on his bad side.” “It didn’t sound like you knew him very well, if you ask me.”, you countered. Who was this guy, anyway?

“That’s a matter of perspective. And a very long story.” “Must be your lucky day, Charles didn’t even seem willing to listen to a short story.” “Your story doesn’t seem to be of his concern either.”

“Could you stop that, guys?”, Hank asked, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Let’s just agree, that he isn’t in a position to talk to either of you.”

“Really? Most people find it easier to talk to me after they had a few drinks. And he seems to be far ahead of that, so…” “Do you think this is a joke?”, you growled at him angrily. “Oh, not at all, sweetheart, but I’m on a schedule and he is the only person, who can help me.” “So you behave like a dick? Amazing strategy, how has it been working out for you in the past?”

Silence. Then: “I like you.”, Logan said, eyeing you once again and you knew that your mutation was at it again.

“What do you need his help for?”, Hank asked. He looked exhausted, only now you realized the dark circles under his eyes. “I need to prevent something from happening, or many people will die. And for that I need the professor’s help. And Magneto’s.”

“Mag… Erik? Where is he? When I… when I left, he was here, what happened?” “You missed out on quite a lot, y/n. And you,”, he looked at Logan and his expression changed from sad to sceptical, “you can forget about your plan. There is no way to get a hold of Erik.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s impossible. We might just need a little help.” “Do you know where he is?”, Hank asked, furrowing his brows. “Yes. Like I said, we might need some help. And since Charles doesn’t have his powers, I guess, we’ll…”

“Charles doesn’t what?”, you interrupted, just as Hank asked: “How do you know about that?” “Well, it’s time for my long story, then.”

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Enforcer

Here it is, my submission to @tatortot2701‘s AU challenge... hope you guys like it, this is my first time writing an AU, so let me know how I did. Thanks to @writingwithadinosaur for reading this TWICE, you're the best!!

Bucky x OFC Harper

Paranormal/Supernatural AU (shifters, and vampires, and mages oh my!)

-“I’ve committed many crimes. You’re going to have to be clear about which one you’re talking about.” (I changed the wording a little whenI put it in the story... sorry)

Word count: 1803

Warnings: swearing, bad writing, typos

Posted: 6/14/17

There were days when she loved her job, really there were. But when her day began with being called into the Captain’s office, Harper knew it was going to suck.

Stepping in the large double doors, Harper crossed the threshold into the large atrium of her department and heard one of the enforcers answering the phones.

“Supernatural Hunting, Investigation, and Enforcement of Law Department, How may I direct your call?”

“I’d just stick with SHIELD, Daisy. It’s easier to say.” Harper commented. Daisy didn’t even look up to meet Harper’s eyes, just smirked and flipped Harper off as she passed. Harper snorted.

An enforcer in the supernatural world was like a police officer in the human world; they enforced the laws, and kept the peace. Most of the time, this meant Harper tracked down some vampire who was a messy eater or who forgot to mind-wipe his food, and brought him to the council for judgement. Most of the time. Then there were those times when other enforcers had tried and failed on a case, and Harper had to step in and take over.

Harper was unique, a hybrid; her mother was a siren and her father was a dragon shifter. She inherited traits from both. Her siren half was more physically present than the dragon, but they were equal parts of her personality. She could shift to a dragon form, a huge scaled, charcoal grey, fire breathing, flying lizard, anytime she wished; within the confines of the law of course. But if she found herself thrown into a large depository of saltwater, she grew a long, finned tail in a color matching her dragon’s hide, and gills along the sides of her neck. Harper tried to avoid falling in the ocean if she could.

Sirens had a human appearance and shifters were dual-natured, so she looked like a normal human most of the time, though her eyes were more fluid. The moment her dragon rose, her eyes changed from a cool, human blue, to an amber-gold with a slitted pupil. The rise of her siren powers was heralded by a more subtle shift to sea green. When she was out in the “normal” world, Harper wore colored contacts of a deep chocolate brown.

When she reached the captain’s door, she knocked before entering. Seeing Nat and Clint already sitting in the office had Harper on edge. Those two were a near perfect team. But if they were in the office they needed help, and if they needed help…

“Don’t pull that face Harp, you haven’t even heard what we have to say yet.” Nat whined. Harper hadn’t realized that her face had slipped into a scowl, but she made no effort to rearrange it now. The succubus in front of her pouted, but her partner the wolf shifter, smiled.

“You know you love us Harper.”

“Mmm, but when I come in here and see you both waiting for me? Not so much.” She cocked an eyebrow in the direction of Captain Rogers, who was sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, watching the back and forth attentively.

“All done?” he asked calmly.

“Yes Cap, I’m done. What mess of theirs am I cleaning up today?” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall across from his desk; choosing to ignore the affronted looks on her coworkers faces.

“Got bodies. Found them in a territory whose alpha is too high up the food chain for Barton to have any pull over.”

The country was divided into territories, like cities but bigger. Each territory ruled was by an alpha. Each of those alphas came together to form the council. An alpha was not always a shifter, just the most powerful supernatural in the territory.

“And I’m just hearing about this now? Must be well hidden bodies.”

“More like the bodies are all in really small pieces,” Nat corrected, slumping in her chair looking tired and uncomfortable.

“What is this guy? I know most shifters don’t shred their kills. Mages either.”

“Dragon.” The captain looked right at her, knowing she would react badly.

Blood drained from her face and her heartbeat raced; both things her vampire captain was aware of.

“Rogers, if this goes sideways, I’m not gonna be much help. No one is.”

“What’d’ya mean?” Clint asked loudly, “You’re way more powerful than me, that’s enough, right?”

“In this case, it's not…”

Now, there was the possibility that this guy wasn’t directly involved and would be cooperative. But the chance that he would be trouble was also there. If he was, Harper was the best choice. Not that it meant much. Harper may have been the apex predator at SHIELD, but she was only a half breed. Sure, her shifter half was at the top of the food chain, but a full blood dragon beat a half blood one anyday.

“So basically, I am being sent in in the hopes that if this guy causes trouble, I might take longer than most to kill?”

Captain Rogers hung his head; it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Dragons beat everyone. They were the longest lived of the supernaturals and had the most power. They mostly kept to themselves, so policing them wasn’t really an issue. But when a dragon did decide to cause trouble, there wasn’t much to be done other than put forth your strongest player and cross your fingers.

“What’s the guy’s name?” Might as well know who it was she’d be going toe-to-toe with.

“Barnes.”

“Fuck me running,” Harper growled as she banged her head back into the wall. She missed the look Nat and Clint exchanged; they knew how shitty her chances were.

“Give me the file and address.”

Harper’s dragon was a warm presence along her spine as she drove out to Barnes’ home address. The dragon lent her reassurance, logical thinking, and just a hint of superiority. So while Harper knew that the investigation she’d been saddled with was extremely dangerous, she also knew that she was the best equipped to handle it, or at least the dragon in her knew. The large, scaly being she shared her soul with was more calm in most situations. You would be too if you knew that you could crush most opponents by simply stepping on them. The dragon was still cautious and calculating, but much less wary in general. As she approached the address on the file, Harper let her dragon half take more control.

-------------------------------------------------------------

James Barnes was surprised to hear who his unexpected guest was. It angered him that some lowly enforcer thought to shove their way into his home. Irritated, he made his way downstairs from his study to where his house manager had told him the enforcer was waiting. And then immediately cursed his lack of shifter staff; a shifter would have told him that the enforcer was a dragon. A half-breed of some sort, but still a dragon, which explained the lack of forewarning; no self-respecting dragon would call ahead. Checking his irritation, James entered the room.

“What brings a SHIELD enforcer to my home?”

“A crime has been committed, obviously. Were you involved?”

“I’ve committed many crimes.” Barnes hedged, smiling a little, “You’re going to have to be clear about which one you are speaking.”

Harper drew a deep breath, trying not to let the dragon in front of her see how annoyed she was.

“There have been bodies found in and around this territory, shredded and left for anyone to find. Now, my guess is that you aren’t involved, at least not directly. But this is your territory, so you must have at least an idea what’s been happening.”

“What makes you say that?” Barnes’ eyes flashed dragon for a split second.

“Any territory alpha should know what’s going on within their borders. But a dragon? No dragon worth their scales lets anything happen without their permission.” Harper met his gaze, which was a bold move after she essentially accused him of murder, but to look away after a statement like that would make her look weak, and she couldn’t afford that.

Barnes held her stare, he had no idea where this little half-dragon had come from, but what he was more interested in was how he had missed her. He’d been in this town for a year now and territory alpha for a little over 9 months, and he’d never seen or heard of her before.

“Who are you?”

Harper kept herself from rolling her eyes. “I asked first. Are you or are you not involved in the murders?”

“If you answer my question, I will answer yours.” He countered, a smirk working its way across his lips.

Harper’s eyes narrowed momentarily, she stood her ground, hands now loosely in her pockets and raised an eyebrow.

“I would be more amenable to your questions, Enforcer, if I knew your name. It is tedious to refer to you by your title.”

“I don’t see how my name is any easier to use than my title. But if you give me your word that you will answer my questions truthfully, I will tell you my name.”

Now his eyes narrowed. To give his word meant he would be bound to tell her the truth. It would be easy enough to find this enforcer’s name if he wanted, but this woman was intriguing, something he couldn’t say about much in his life. So he was willing to play along… for now.

“I give you my word.”

Harper blinked, surprised that he’d given in so easily, and now suspicious as to why.

“My name is Harper Coulson.”

James’ dragon was rolling happily in his head; hoarding this knowledge like it hoarded all its treasures. The fact that the dragon had labeled this woman’s name as a treasure was a bit startling, but James just smiled wider.

“Harper Coulson,” he repeated, like he was tasting her name on his tongue, “Very well, I was not and am not involved in the crime you have described. I am loathe to admit that I am, in fact, unaware of these occurrences,” he looked almost sheepish as his eyes slid away from hers. That admission must have burned his ego quite a bit, knowing this gave Harper and idea.

“What would you say to assisting in the investigation then?” she asked, tilting her head slightly to the right.

Barnes’ eyes narrowed again, but he met her eyes again, “What would ‘assisting’ entail exactly?”

“Well, it’s your territory, I would just give you extra resources really. We’d work together, find the perpetrator, then find a suitable punishment and carry it out.”

“A partnership then?” Barnes asked, an almost boyish smile on his face; ‘almost’ because there was a glimmer of dark mischief behind his eyes.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Harper shrugged, “sure.”

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