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certifiedskywalker · 6 years ago

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Hear Me Out - Diego Hargreeves

Anonymous said: Could you do a fic where the reader is number 8 and they and Diego have something going on like Alison and Luther. Maybe the reader doesn’t realize it

(Sorry that this is sooo long, I guess it could be considered a slow burn??? In a one shot??? I dunno. I hope you like it!)

Reginald Hargreeves was not the only person that had taken an interest in the spontaneous births that racked the planet on that fateful day in 1989; but he was the only billionaire which was why William Whackerman could only collect one child. He was in his seventies when he ‘adopted’ you and a heavy smoker. Despite his less than glamorous health habits, Mr. Whackerman, as he entreated you called him, maintained his fatherly figure for the next seventeen years of your life. Which compared to the years that followed, were quite content.

After Mr. Whackerman’s death, a sudden but not-so-shocking heart attack, you were sent to a special school. Only, the Umbrella Academy wasn’t just simply a school. It was also a messed up, backwards excuse of a family. Reginald was only present during missions and paid little mind to you, his ‘new number eight’, for your powers had not been hardened by training his own children had been forced to endure.

He simply stapled you on the end of the numerical order and left you with Vanya. Although, you didn’t quite mind the quiet girl’s company. She told you about Fives, how Father hadn’t been quite the same after he had vanished, but also talked to you about books and art; things to find hope in that Mr. Whackerman had neglected to foster. Through the next years of your life, Vanya had become a steady river of companionship; her and Diego. The prized knife slinging, living weapon of Reginald’s little army had taken an interest in you from the moment you had arrived.

While he didn’t talk much, which was due to a stutter you had learned about by accident. You had walked into his room when you were still finding your way around the monstrously large house. He had been standing before a mirror, eyes locked with his reflection’s as he stuttered out a sentence full of ‘ms’ and ‘ws’. He had been so angry and caught off guard when you saw him that he was shocked into silence.

“It’s okay, Number Two,” you still hadn’t been properly introduced as Grace was out of commission for repairs, “just take it slow. You’ll find the words.”

You had stayed with him until he broke the silence. “It’s Diego. M-My name is Diego.”

And that had been the start of it all. At meals, you sat yourself between Diego and Vanya to enjoy the horribly daunting quiet. Even with no words exchanged, a silent knocking of sneakered feet against each other told Diego you enjoyed his company and vice versa. Despite being in your teen years, your relationship had been so juvenile; never once had it stepped over childish affection.

Diego would parade his growing collection of knives, how to aim just right but too nervous to get too close to show you how. Granted, your powers lacked the refinement and accuracy of Diego’s so many knives had clinked to the stone ground of the courtyard. With pink cheeks, he would always tell you that you did well.

Some nights, you would both camp out in the courtyard, peer up at the stars at you traded dreams like sweets in the darkness. You swore never to use your powers on Diego unless he told you that you could.

“W-What can you do?” You shifted beside him, turning to keep your eyes off of him.

“If I stare at you long enough, I can hear your thoughts. But I have to stare for a while which is why your dad won’t let me go with you on missions.” Diego must have sensed your disappointment for he had been quick to console you.

“Missions aren’t that fun anyway,” a lie, you both knew it, “plus it’s a sibling thing.” You remember smiling and knocking your shoulder against Diego’s. Even at seventeen he had been muscular and barely moved at the contact.

“I’m not your sibling?” You teasing had made Diego shift at your side as your teasing made him uncomfortable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to press, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Diego had murmured but you could see with ease the dejected look in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re not really a sibling ...Father...being his child isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Allison makes it work, with the magazines...I-I...can’t.”

You knew better than to press Diego and instead, you stayed at his side until the sun rose. Pogo had wandered out by then, water can in hand to tend to the flowers. He found you and Diego asleep, slumped against one another like rag dolls. The smiling chimp woke you both, sent you off to your rooms where you silently exchanged more chit-chat.

Outside of superpowered abilities and late night conversations, the two of you would communicate through the shared walls of your room through a secret language of knocks. Throwing an eighth child into the mix had disturbed any sense of order maintained by Reginald and with Klaus growing wilder by the day, it seemed the man had given up on some of his children; this included the systematic arrangement of rooms. In those sweet days, two and eight were neighbors, just like one and three.

But like everything good, it came to an end. Although, you figured you had brought the end with you. The older you and the rest got, the harder Reginald tried to choke out your freedom. After Ben died, Klaus left to go...somewhere. No one was quite sure where but one day you all woke up and he was gone. Then Vanya, as soon as she got into college, she left and begged for you to come with.

“What about the others?” Vanya had frowned then, tears had spilled down her cheeks. The Umbrella Academy had never been home for her, for you it barely sufficed. Yet you had found some solace in the patchwork family that had taken you in and chose to stand behind with a promise you would join Vanya when you felt ready to leave.

That time came far more swiftly than you had expected. On that very night, you wandered through the house in search of Diego. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him behind. Although it seemed that Diego hadn’t felt the same way.

When you stepped into the den, Diego was nowhere in sight. Grace had been idle in the kitchen, sat at the table with a cross stitch uncompleted in her grasp.

“Where’s Diego? Grace?” The blonde android, the mother of the child you had grown to call you closest friends. Beady, loving eyes met your gaze with a cherry-red smile.

“My little bird has left the nest,” she said and you noted how her programmed grin fell for the slightest second. “He’s gone.”

“You mean he’s just out, right? He’s no-”

“He left,” Grace said, the mechanics under the synthetic skin stalled, which gave her lips an almost human quiver. You felt your own resolve as it dropped and wet tears fell down the slopes of your cheeks. The memory of Grace reaching out and you pulling away was stuck in your mind as you packed your belongings. No there was nothing keeping you there.

So you left that next morning, bid Grace and Pogo ado with tight hugs. If the android woman hadn’t been programmed to smile, you would have sworn her lips were not as upturned as they were normally.

“Do promise you’ll visit and bring Miss Vanya back with you,” Pogo entreated, beady brown eyes pleading. You grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze with your silence. Pogo seemed to understand the quiet exchange and you gave the foyer of the Umbrella Academy one last look. Up the stairs on the landing, you made out the silhouette of Reginald watching on but not daring to give you a proper farewell.

Your childhood with Mr. Whackerman and your teenage years spent with the Hargreeves somehow even out your feelings on family. Living with Vanya also helped in that respect. You helped make ends meet between shifts at a local cafe and Vanya’s orchestra work. When she decided to publish her autobiography, you were both content; despite the pages of her writing adding a final flourish to an end of a peaceful chapter.

“He’s dead,” Vanya said, prompting you to look up from the table wedged between the living room and kitchen. With a furrowed brow you peered at her with her soaked hair and drenched clothes. The case of her volin hung loosely in her hand, droplets of rain still rolling off of the side.

“What? Who?” You stood up from your seat and closed your book. Vanya’s already dark brown eyes resembled shadows, glancing slowly around your face. Moth-like, Vanya’s limbs fluttered inside the apartment, the door still open behind her as she wandered in towards the light. The lines in her face were more defined as were the tear trails on her moistened cheeks.

“My father...”

It had been nearly a decade since either you or Vanya had stepped foot inside the Umbrella Academy. The brick building loomed, more nightmarish now than in your own childhood. Vanya stood at your side, small hands curled into tight fists. She too was feeling the whirlwind of emotions that had swept you along as well.

“It’s alright,” you said, but Vanya’s gaze remained trained on the door. “You took your medication today right?”

Vanya nodded in response and it seemed that the mention of her routine grounded her enough to speak. “I don’t think it’s going to help much though.”

“We won’t ever know if we don’t go inside,” you pointed out. The reality of your words pulled Vanya’s eyes to yours. “You ready?”

“No,” she replied and stepped forward to open the door.

The grand entrance hall was wholly unchanged. Looming statues that resembled more gargoyles than any other loving beast were the first faces to greet you. Persian rugs laid under a centerpiece table that held flowers, ones cared for by Pogo evident by the crispy, vibrant petals. The same chill that had rolled over your shoulders when you first moved in to the academy gripped you then with boney fingers tight. If the place wasn’t haunted before, you were certain Reginald wandered about the hallways now.

“Is it me or does it-”

“Vanya? Y/N?”

The voice, while odd having not heard it in so long, comforted you in some irrational way. Spinning on your toes you turned to meet the mournful gaze of Allison as she stepped towards you. Her curls cascaded perfectly over her shoulders in the way that, when you were teenagers, never failed to strike you with awe.

“Hi,” Vanya greeted, breaking the slight silence that had gathered. She stepped towards Allison and fell into what, from your eyes, seemed like a strained sibling hug. Part of you was glad your father, Mr. Whackerman, had only adopted you out of the forty-three children born. The thought of having such a stiff family relationship set you on edge.

“It’s so great to see you,” Allison said as she pulled away from the half-hearted embrace. When her eyes found yours she added, “to see you both.”

“I’m sorry, for your loss,” you said and tried out a bittersweet smile on the girl labelled ‘number three’. She returned the gesture and sighed.

“Father would be happy to see you here, Y/N,” she turned back to Vanya, “and you.” You bit the inside of your lip to keep from scowling. You knew that Allison was trying to be kind but to lie so obviously made you want to cringe. Vanya, ever stoic, remained silent. “I think Klaus is here if you want to-”

“She shouldn’t be here.” A low, gravelly voice interjected followed by the sound of heavy boots clunking down the stairs. “She should-”

The repeated message with the same eerily cold sentiment was cut short. A familiar pair of dark brown eyes landed on your form and you swore it was as if you and Klaus had traded powers. The dead memories of the Diego you knew danced before you, bleed into your mind like a freshly opened wound.

Scars on his face showed his age more than even the slight bags under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn’t sleep soundly in a year, only napping for a few minutes here and there to keep himself afloat. Even with the stumbling step Diego took in your direction, he moved as a shadow; all dark and watchful with the eyes to match. Despite everything, he was still the Diego you had known when you were younger.

If you had stared into his eyes any longer, you were certain his thoughts would fold open like the pages of the book that had driven the wedge further between you.

“Diego,” Allison’s voice cut through the tension that had amassed suddenly in the room. “Be nice, please.” His brown eyes pulled away from your gaze to glance at his sisters. Vanya didn’t dare to make contact with him. Her book had turned Diego’s feeling sore.

“She shouldn’t be here,” he said again, not as harshly this time. He turned to hold your gaze once more and you swallowed hard. “Not after everything.”

With that, the boy turned man ascended the stairs to the upper level of the mansion. You watched him go, wondering what would have happened if you had found him before he left all those years ago. The thought normally made you bitter, angry because friends don’t leave each other behind; but watching him leave again made your heart ache with some horrible sadness.

“He’ll come around,” Allison’s voice once again broke through the silence. “Y/N, you should try talking to him. Diego was closer to you than any of his siblings, any of us.”

“He doesn’t seem in the talking mood,” you countered. Allison’s frown deepened and she nodded in agreement.

“Where...Where’s Pogo?” Vanya asked, mouse like features darted around in search for the kind, ape butler.

“He’s…..around,” Allison raised her hand and referenced the entire building, “I’ll go to find him. I’ll be right back.” Her heels clacked against the wooden floors, leaving you and Vanya in her wake. You spared a glance at the brown haired girl who was wandering into the family room, the sliding door pushed aside.

Aside from new, antique looking furniture, the room felt unchanged. The beady eyes of mounted animals, prizes from Reginald’s many hunting expeditions, watchful as every, seemed to study you as you and Vanya stepped inside. A lifeless fireplace loomed beside a vast wall of book shelves that pulled Vanya to them almost instantly. The pages, magnets really, coaxed Vanya’s metallic eyes to one book in particular.

“You gave him a copy?” You leaned over and caught sight of Vanya’s own book in her hands. Vanya’s lips parted with a readied reply when the padding of feet hit your ears.

“Miss Vanya, Y/N, how good it is to see you both.” Pogo gave you both a chimp smile before hugging Vanya then yourself. “I see you found your book.”

“Did...did he ever read it?” You heart broke at Vanya’s question and even more so at Pogo’s answer.

“To the best of my knowledge, I fear not,” he rested a soothing hand on Vanya’s arm. “He loved you, in your own way. You too, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but scoff. Not being in the original seven had given you an outside perspective.

“He hardly knew my name, except my last one,” you quipped sharply. Pogo gave you a saddened smile. Nothing said to him seemed to hurt him and you instantly felt guilty about your tone.

“Yes, Y/N Whackerman,” Pogo turned and squeezed your hand. “Different names do not change the effect you had on the Hargreeves family. He loved you all.

“Like you said,” you frowned, “in his own way.”

“And that’s the problem,” Vanya murmured. At a loss of what to say, Pogo hung his head quietly. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to do now. Stay and look after the house? Move out, and if so, where? Reginald had never talked about back up plans; the man thought he was immortal.

“You know, Diego suffers from this same idea,” Pogo explained, “perhaps you can find solace in one another during this time.” You felt your jaw clench while Vanya gave the butler a weary look. “I know he would enjoy speaking to you, Y/N. The two of you were close.”

“Well, we’re not kids anymore,” you replied lowly.

“That may be true, however, like I said, you had a deep effect on him, this family. Have faith in yourself.” Pogo’s words left a sour taste on your tongue. One that reeked of rotten regret and bitter grief. You could have reached out, made plans with Diego, any of the siblings really, but you hadn’t. Instead you let yourself be hurt by Diego’s wordless, goodbye-less departure, and only spoke to Vanya. Your powers fell into disuse and you feelings numbed.

Vanya went back to pursuing the array of volumes and novels on the shelves when Pogo trailed off, out the room to address a stumbling sound that sounded too much like Klaus to be good. The stuffiness of the family room, if you could even call it that, drove you back into the foyer. Your feet developed minds of their own as they guided you up the dark oak stairs. Fingertips trailing along the polished handrail, you could remember the speck of hope that had swelled in your gut when you first arrived at the academy.

That seed had bloomed with wilted leaves and lackluster colored petals. The only ray of sunshine you saw was Vanya’s company and Diego’s friendship. You had to learn to grow without the latter. Never once did you think about returning, only in your nightmares, but here you were. After you trudged up the steep stairs, you found yourself in the hallway that defined your last few adolescent years.

The first room on your right, the one that had been yours, was shut tight. You and the rest of the kids in the academy had switched rooms so many times that you were surprised when you could remember which door led to who. Across the hall’s creaky floor boards lied Vanya’s door and horribly cramped living space; it would be evil to consider it a bedroom.

“Well, long time no see.” You barely heard Klaus over the noisy wooden floors but the sass was unmistakable. You turned to see him, taller than you remember with a rather eclectic manner of dress.

“Yeah, it has been,” Klaus smiled and opened his arms. You met him in the middle in a tight hug, one that was rarely shared in your youth. “How have you been, Klaus?”

“Oh, you know,” Klaus pulled away with a lazy grin, “fantastic. Daddy’s dead!” He raised his hand in a partying gesture and coaxed a slight smile to your lips.

“Morbid much?” Klaus only shook his head and dismissed the question.

“I am the one that sees dead people,” he teased as he started to walk past you, “Diego’s around here, by the way.” You turned to meet his green eyes and Klaus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Just thought you would want to know.”

In silence, Klaus disappeared down the hall and soon, out of sight. Swallowing hard, you turned and looked down towards the rest of the doors. It was eerily quiet, all the way down to Luther and Allison’s bedroom doors. With you lips pressed tightly together, you continued down the hall. That was, until, you noticed Diego’s bedroom door slightly ajar. A childish curiosity drove you towards it and it felt like you were falling into an old habit.

Your breath caught and heart thundered in your chest at the sight. Notches in the walls where, in anger, Diego had flung knives. You had witnessed many of them firsthand, late at night while Diego ranted about his father’s training. The distant memories seemed so close now as you traced your fingers along the divets. They were the only things in the stark room that still held hints of Diego.

Despite the open door, it seemed that Diego hadn’t stopped in to relive the times you were both close. You, on the other hand, lingered. You sat on the edge of his bed which had been stripped of the dark sheets he used to like. The bare mattress was far from comfortable, but you leaned back anyway. Your body bounced slightly, the top of your head brushing against the head board. A smile spread across your lips at an echo of a memory.

To give voice to it, you lifted a hand that curled into a slight fist. Gently, you rapped your knuckles against the wall. A dull knock sounded, requocheted through the room and filled your ears with a strange sense of emptiness. Long nights of back and forth with Diego, communicating solely through thuds on the shared wall.

Another knock echoed, replying to your greeting so quickly that it shocked you. You sat up in the uncovered bed with a shocked jolt. Staring at the wall, you waited. After a minute of silence, the same knock repeated with an added question. Are you still there?

Quietly as you could, you wandered out of Diego’s old room and back out into the hallway. Your bedroom door was still closed but, after a pregnant pause, you pushed it open. Blank walls greeted you with empty stares just as Diego’s darkness filled the room. He laid on the bed, only to sit up to face you as you entered.

“Guess we still know the code,” he quipped and you felt your heart twinge.

“I guess so,” you murmured in reply. Your eyes never left Diego as he shifted against your old bed. The temptation to stare, to read this thoughts rushed over you like a wave. Luckily you broke through the surface and tore your eyes away; only for a moment though. Black, long sleeved shirt and pants obscured most of him, but as you studied him, you realized something else entirely. “Are you bleeding?”

“What?” “Is that blood?” Taking a step towards him, you gestured to his side. Diego’s shirt clung tightly to his abdomen, visibly damp. His dark eyes flicked from you to to his side and back again.

“N-no.” The stutter would have been endearing, to some part of you it was, but fear rose up in your throat to choke it out. Without a word, you stepped towards him. Diego jerked back from your extended hand and reaching fingers. “Y/N.”

“Just stop,” you snapped and it seemed to shut him up. Carefully, your crooked your fingers up and hiked up the hem of his black shirt. The wet peeling sound the fabric made as you pulled it up from his flesh made your skin crawl. A gash on his side, too blunt to be from a knife, was carved under his shirt.

“I’m fine, it’s just a graze.”

You gave him a wild look, “you’re fine? Bleeding isn’t fine.” Diego let out a huff in response and you let the fabric fall back into place.

“I’ll get Pogo to take a look at it,” you said, starting towards the door.

“Don’t, Y/N, I got it. I’m fine.” He stood up, apparently too quickly as he winced, his eyes squeezed shut to stifle the pain.

“Yeah, sure,” you grumbled, “you’ve never been good at lying.”

“Then see the truth.” Just as your hand reached for the door knob, Diego’s words sunk in. That current of your powers seemed to sweep you under the water of temptation, swirled you around until your eyes found Diego’s. He stood straight, stiff, as he stared into your eyes.

“Diego-”

“You said that you wouldn’t, I’m saying that you can. Do it.” You averted your eyes to the floor to hide your intrigue.

“Don’t be such a child,” you whispered before looking up at Diego once more. “Just let me help you, okay?”

“I’ve never been good at lying, like you said, or talking. That includes asking ...asking for help. You know that.” You furrowed your brows and shook your head.

“That’s your problem,” you replied, “I’m not going to read your thoughts and fix it.” Diego took a step towards you and you felt your heart begin to race. You hadn’t looked away from him and specks of his thoughts were already filling your mind.

“I’m not telling you to fix m-me,” Diego mumbled, “I’m asking to you hear me out, listen to the things I can’t explain.” The streak of honesty that stemmed from Diego shocked you but not as much as the thoughts from his mind that were filtering into your own.

“You’re hurting,” you murmured and Diego seemed taken aback. “You side...it’s not that. Something else.” Images of you as a child raced by your head, the rest of the Hargreeves siblings, then you again. Smiles, laughing, Diego stuttering in front of his mirror.

“Y/N,” his child voice echoed within the remembered thought, “I-I love y-you.” Then your face again, through a window talking to grace. The sound of rain pattering, the night Diego left he had hesitated on the doorstep to the academy. Regret, you felt his regret so strongly. It was then you forced yourself to tear your eyes away from Diego.

You stared at the floor and waited for your own thoughts to return to you. As Diego’s feelings and thoughts bled away, you managed to look up. His dark eyes were wide, jaw clenched tightly as he lips pressed into a firm line.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“Keep looking,” he pressed and you shook your head.

“No, I need you to tell me.” Diego groaned at your persistence and stared at you, visibly displeased.

“I’m not good at talking,” Diego reiterated, “you know that. I...knew if I went back to talk to you I would never leave. I would have stayed here, with you, gone anywhere and…”

“I wasn’t going to stay,” you slipped in as Diego trailed off, “I wanted you to come with me.” Diego met your gaze and you saw the sadness there.

“But would you have loved me like I love you?”

It was a question you knew the answer to. You had known it since you were young and thought things could be perfect. Those nights when you and Diego would stay awake for hours on end talking, you could feel the truth. You were just so young and confused and every relationship you had ever had was for your powers alone. Yet this was the first time Diego had ever asked you to use your powers. He was not Mr. Whackerman or Reginald Hargreeves; Diego was good, not perfect but good.

“Yes, I would have. I can,” you rephrase and you saw something in Diego snap. Some twig part of him broke into splinters into your hands as he stepped towards you one more time. There was less than a foot of space between you and you reached a hand for his.

“I wish I could read your mind,” Diego said and you felt your heartache a little.

“You don’t have to,” you murmured and gave his hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to, you know.” Diego’s knitted brows relaxed and he leaned down gently. The tip of his nose brushed against yours lightly, tantalizingly close. You could feel the pressure mounting, the feeling of his lips a thought away when there was a knocking at the door.

“Diego? Have you found dad’s-oh! Y/N, hi. I didn’t know you were here.” Diego sighed heavily and his head dropped when you turned to face Luther in the doorway. He was broader, shoulders larger than you remembered.

“Hi, Luther,” you greeted with a tone that read clear with annoyance. As always, Luther seemed to be above that and continued on.

“We’re going to meet in the family room downstairs soon. Diego, can you come to dad’s room with me?” You looked to Diego at Luther’s question and saw dejection in his features.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’ll be there in a second.” Luther nodded and ducked back out into the hallway. Diego grumbled and you smiled at him softly.

“Go,” you squeezed his hand once more, “he won’t stop unless you go.” Diego frowns and lets go of your hand. “Make sure to get Pogo to check your side, alright?” Diego rolled his eyes and you shook your head.

“We’ll talk later?” He asked as he pushed open the door of your old bedroom.

“Yes,” you replied and Diego nodded. You could have sworn that he smiled but he was gone too fast for you to be certain. Diego wasn’t perfect, far from it, but he was good; and that was good enough for you.

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turdblossommm · 6 years ago

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I’ll Fly Away {8}

Summary: You had a rough childhood and are closed off from people in fear of being hurt again. James Barnes is the complete opposite from you, he grew up well and healthy. James Barnes knew how to get what he wants but when he faces the challenge of knowing you will he succeed?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: OOHh looks who's trying to be consistent

part seven // masterlist

“Are you sure you’re up for this Annie? We can always stay home and watch movies or Golden Girls” You offered Annie as you pushed her chair towards Winny’s house.

“Nonsense, I’ve never been one to miss a party” She folded her hands in her lap “And Winny’s son is quiet dashing so I plan on setting that up” She smiled while you shook your head

“Annie I told you I’m seeing someone” You chuckled

“I’ll believe it when I see it” You knocked on the front door and Rachel swung the door open

“Hey I’m so glad you made it” She smiled as you pushed Annie in “Everyone is in the backyard” Rachel showed you to the yard that was perfectly manicured with white tents and table clothes. Every single guest was dressed and semi formal attire. You looked down at the grubby Doc Martins and ripped jeans and immediately felt out of place

“I didn’t know it wasn’t so casual” You muttered

“My mother is a fashion designer, this is casual” You nodded as Rachel noted your embarrassment “I might have something you can wear” You looked up at Rachel

“Oh no, it’s fine”

“What’s fine?” Rebecca chimed in

“Y/N sticks out like a sore thumb” Annie replied

“Annie” You looked down at her and she shrugged

“It’s true” She wheeled away from you “And put a little make up on her, she’s looking so pale these days” You stared after her as she wheeled away to the food table and greeted Winny.

“Come on” Rachel dragged you inside

“Mom styled some grunge style clothing that’s really soft and I think it’ll look so nice on you” Rebecca smiled as Rachel pulled you into a room

“I’ll start hair”

“I’ll start make up” Rachel pulled your hair out of it’s messy bun and Rebecca started to dab foundation into your skin. When they finished Rebecca pulled out a thin strapped black dress that went mid thigh and a maroon cardigan that was the same length.

“I thought this with your boots would be so cute” She smiled at you as you agreed

“It’s so edgy I love it” Rachel gushed “Throw on some black panty hose and you’ll be a whole snack”

“I’m not a snack” You looked at them “I’m the whole damn meal” You smiled while they laughed and left so you could quickly change. You analyzed yourself in the mirror as you folded your jeans and t-shirt. You looked like a completely different person.You stepped out of the room and the girls smiled and linked arms with you as the three of you walked back outside to the party.

Bucky kissed his mother’s cheek and smiled at Anette, the elderly women from across the street. She was doing better than the last time her saw her, his mother muttered something about her daughter being around more. Bucky sipped on his glass of whisky, wishing he would’ve asked you to come but he thought it was too soon to meet his family and he didn’t want to scare you away.

Winny smiled as the girls came back with you looking like a whole new person, a snack as Rachel would call it. She wanted to introduce you to James, but you were so distant from people that she wasn’t sure how you’d take it. So when your eyes found James, Winny could see the confusion in your eyes.

She watched you walk across the lawn, with confidence she’s never seen come from you. She watched as recognition crossed his face and he reached for your hand and then kissed your cheek as she watched you fold your hand in his. You barely put your hand in hers, let alone grip it and hold on to it.

Annie watched from the desert table as Winny’s son smiled down at you like you were the reason the sun shined. Annie felt at peace to know that you were willing to open yourself up to someone aside from your sarcastic roommate Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky smiled down at you

“Oh you know I was in the neighborhood” Winny has never seen James bring a girl home, let alone show affection for anyone outside their family and Steve of course.

“James I see you’ve met Y/N” Bucky looked up to his mother

“Yes, her roommate works for me” Bucky smile, leaving out our remedial job

“What small world”

“Yes, very small” You smiled at Winny “My mom lives across the street” You informed Bucky

“I’d like to meet her if that’s okay” You smiled and led him to Annie at the desert table. She smiled at you from the wheel chair. Annie watched as you approach as his hand pressed to the small of your back and you didn’t shy away. The sight make Annie smile, it makes her think of the first time you came to the house.

Henry was beyond angry that Annie had wanted to foster a child who probably doesn’t even have manners. Annie was buzzing with excitement, with all her children grown and gone she needed something maternal to keep her sane. The couple had a silent argument with each other as they watched the car approach the house.

Annie smiled when she saw you step out of the car. She descended the stairs to the car to take the bag and talk to the social worker. Henry followed slowly after his wife, they never had a girl and he wasn’t sure how to parent one.

“Hi I’m Annie” She crouched down to your level and stuck her hand out. You stared at her in silence and Annie realized this was going to be harder than she thought. She could see the pain in your eyes

“Y/N why don’t you go inside while Annie and I talk” You nodded and walked passed Annie who was still crouched down. Henry looked down at the tiny human as you passed him, avoiding his gaze.

“Did I say something wrong?” Annie asked as Henry walked down the stairs

“She’s had a very rough life”

“She’s ten” Henry grunted, how could she know rough?

“She’s foreign and was separated from her siblings when she was three. She was adopted and then she was given back and put in the foster system sir.” The social worker glared at the husband and Annie’s heart broke for the little girl

“Her family ? What happened to them?” She asked

“Her mother’s murdered by her father and he’s in prison on those charges along with a few others. Y/N has known nothing but violence and rejection all her life, so I asked that you try and not give up in the first week. This won’t be easy but when she opens up, she’s the most wonderful little girl you’ll ever know”

Annie made the decision that she would do everything she could to make sure your life was nothing it was before. She spent weeks trying to get a sentence out of you, while Henry couldn’t stand to watch Annie grovel on her knees with the child

“What’s wrong with you?” Henry asked one day while Annie was at the store and you were working on homework “Are you stupid or something?” He asked and you stopped writing and looked at him, you’ve never looked him in the eyes, or anyone for that matter.

“I'm not allowed to speak unless spoken to sir” Annie stepped into the house as she heard your little voice for the first time ,she almost cried on the door step

“We’ve been speaking to you this entire time” Henry narrowed his eyes at her

“I don’t want to be punished sir” Annie set the groceries on the counter

“What are you talking about sweetie?”

“At my old house we could only speak unless spoken to and if we spoke out of turn we got hit” You went back to your homework as Henry’s gaze hardened and Annie’s eyes filled with tears. Annie and Henry kept you for three more years and Annie wanted to adopt you but Henry said no and when they had to go overseas for work they had to send you away.

Annie regrets very few things in her life, but not adopting you was the biggest regret of her life. She would’ve given you everything you wanted, she would’ve sent you to the best school and you wouldn’t be stuck in a dead end job.

“Annie this is James” You smiled as she took Bucky’s hand in hers

“Y/N! Come take a picture with us”

“Yes get you’re tiny ass over here” You looked over to the twins and turned back to the Annie and James

“I’ll be right back” Bucky watched you bound gracefully over to his sisters

“You treat her right” Bucky turned back to Annie “She’s lived in a world of hate she doesn’t deserve anymore” You nodded

“I promise”

“I need to make sure she’s taken care of before I go” Annie swallowed “She’s a tough one to crack but she’s worth all the work” Bucky nodded

“She is” Bucky agree while watching you smile for the picture the twins were going to post all over social media

“Bucky get your ass over here” Bucky shook his head

“Duty calls” He chucked and walked over to you and wrapped his arm around your waist and smiled for the camera.

Taglist:

@skeletoresinthebasement @iamwarrenspeace @youreahandsomedevil @alina-barnes @xi-i-i-whatsyouremergency @ambivalence-is-me @101killer

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes au #sad bucky #bucky imagine #BUCKY AU #Winter Solider #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel #Avengers #avengers au #MCU

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blbf-fanfic · 5 years ago

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A Realization Dawned On Me!!

Well, not literally. I received a private ask!! It was, even more surprising, on TM-ONE.

It was (as I can’t find it for w/e reason) “What was Gunner to Rea? A father, an uncle, a brother, a friend? How did they really acquaint?”

At this point, I realized, I probably should’ve given them a closer background. I also figured, since he is deceased, a pic would help explain -- then I was just shrugging my shoulders and jumping back onto the simulator page on Picrew. So, yeah, THEY BELOW.

Rea and Gunner

Rea came to the HQ roughly in her child to tween years. Gunner was next door to her room, Mirage on the other side. Once he met her and heard she was being taken under the wing of Zebbulon, he sought her out. He tidied her hair into side/back ponytails (now one of her signature styles) and gave her his spare large clothes. As she trained and learned he told her wondrous stories of the worlds and realms he traveled to. He was an open book - that is his trait. His SOUL is a Prism; he was literally everything. His hair shone different colors as he retold his tales from his heart and memory - like if he spoke of swashbuckling pirates and a sea monster, it would turn Orange(Brave), Yellow(Justice), and Red(Determination) whilst a story about a pleasant old memory may be Green(Kindness) and Blue(Integrity).

Rea thought of him like a father. Gunner’s designated bond, his sole family, perished in a fight and he equally considered Rea to the likeness of a daughter he never got to have. Rea became more open, aware, and capable of loving due to his loving guidance. He was a vital piece to her rehabilitation into society as he often took her through the Void to encounter new places when she was old enough to travel. His passing shielded her heart with an added layer, but he was a great man who looked out for our favorite little mage.

His SOUL may be a Prism, but in the beginning it was Brave.

Maya and Pete

Maya and Pete grew up near one another. Similar to Jason, the three are childhood friends (Penelope moved in at 4th grade, but soon became part of the group). Her parents divorced when she was nine years old, and Pete overtook to her emotional health of it all. Pete comes from a single parent household, his father, who had severe cancer and was hospital admitted for the majority of Pete’s tweens. When this occurred and nobody would take responsibility for the well-known child ticking time bomb he was, Maya’s live-in father adopted him in. They lived in the same housing for the remainder of school life. He chose to go to the military to no longer burden Maya’s father, much to her dismay.

Both consider the other as close as a sibling while maintaining the knowledge of their unexistant blood relation. Pete’s father, his sole family member, passed away a year after graduation - Maya attended the funeral in Pete’s stead as he was overseas. Pete holds great respect for her family as they’ve offered to welcome him into their home again numerous times. As a result of all the years, Pete is excessively careful and protective of Maya. He will use his police position to protect her if it came to it.

Pete IS straight and has a SOUL of Justice. He has fawned over Maya with intentional affections in the past, but due to her inability to flirt unless horrifically inebriated he has resigned those feelings. Now they are best friend siblings. He will, however, intensively PDA to keep other men away from snatching her up (and she will be NONE THE WISER).

Jane and Flynn

As stated before, Jane didn’t meet Flynn until they shared a residency in a foster home. Unbeknownst though is Flynn’s single mother committed suicide when he was only an infant. He has been transferred numerous times to different foster or orphan facilities which is why he gives a hardened response to Jane upon her arrival - he never had parents to begin with. Once the two became closer, however, they were the pinnacle of mischief. They dreamed of a future with all the other orphans living in a house they built together out in the country where they could have pet chickens and iguanas. Obviously, this didn’t pan out so. Flynn, tired of the cramped conditions and the horrible staffing chose to flee. He was unable to convince Jane to runaway with him, and the other children were too young to fend for themselves. The heartfelt farewell was a slowing force in the orphanage. Flynn was found about a week later roughly two cities over in an alleyway. A chef found him dumpster diving and welcomed him in for food. Here’s another shocker -- Its Gray. Flynn wound up at the diner Jane used to work at. Hope and Dennis care for Flynn as Gray involves the police regarding the orphanage once Flynn spills. Jane is the only one to leave the properly transferred children and join Flynn. Jane and Flynn are fostered by Hope and Dennis, attend the nearby schools and both get jobs at Gray’s Diner. Flynn, however, leaves at the midst of his highschool life to study music and nursing in Canada for Jane; the reason he set out was for her (back then) ailing back.

Similar to Maya and Pete, the two are best friend siblings ‘til the bitter end. Flynn doesn’t have the same influence as Pete, but he is protective of Jane. He has tried to convince her to moving to Canada whilst also respecting her wishes to stay and study botany and art. His SOUL is Patience so he knows things will work out alright. Jane makes sure to keep in contact with Flynn as most of the other orphaned children were moved around the states and even globe. Despite the years and wisdom they’ve gained they’re still as mischievous as before - UNLIKE Maya and Pete, they can almost perfectly play the parts of a presentable couple in public when they so desire.

Flynn is, however, bisexual. He doesn’t hold much said loving affection towards Jane, but would marry her if she asked suddenly. They tease one another about who will find true love first. They also have an added closeness to not only being best friends, siblings, and relative live-ins together but in their tweens and teens they competed in a few dancing competitions for the spare prize money. Because of this, they have this untold body intimacy and closeness that makes it even naturally hard to determine they aren’t a couple.

And, yeah!! If you have anymore questions about the guys in these gals lives lemme know~~~

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After writing this I realized that the only person with their parents still alive is Maya. And they are divorced.

Ain’t that an oof and a half.

#blbf #bloodpix #blbf-fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #AO3 fanfic #undertale fanfic #undertale fanfiction #undertale #Janette #Rea #Maya #TM-ONE #too much - or never enough #EOW #echoes of water

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ourmomzone-blog · 5 years ago

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Abundance & Poverty

You could have it all, my empire of dirt.

I will let you down. I will make you hurt."

~Nine Inch Nails, "Hurt"

The lyrics to the song "Hurt" remind me of a man by the name of William Randolph Hearst. He made and lost fortunes from pioneering "yellow newspaper," a simple term for gossip papers that had a way of twisting the truth. He lived an eventful life; he employed Mark Twain, interviewed Hitler, and even ran for public office. It is widely rumored that he died alone and broke, after having so much of his focus on purchasing items for a home that he never finished. Today, we mainly know his legacy as Hearst Castle survive financially as a single mom.

"The greatest mentors are often those we choose to guide us even when the advice stops."

~Culture Inc. & The Seven Scrolls

One of my mentors, along with his wife, made a family decision to take in foster children. They had kids of their own, yet they felt called to take care of children outside of their nuclear family who were in need. Bill and his wife took in two siblings that came from a broken home where food was scarce and a history of abuse was the norm.

One day, Bill's wife had prepared dinner and the foster kids came into the dining area to eat. As dinner time came to an end, Bill noticed some odd behavior. Both kids were hiding chicken and bread in their pockets to eat later.

Bill sat both kids down. "Listen," he said. "I want you to take what is in your pockets and put it back on the table. You both need to understand that there will be plenty of food here every meal: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And if you are still hungry, you can go into the kitchen and my wife will provide snacks for you. We are a family here, and neither of you will ever have to go hungry for as long as you live in this home." I wish I had met Bill earlier in my life to hear his wisdom and adopt his spirit of abundance. Bill, has never stopped giving, and each year he has grown in terms of financial wealth to be one of the richest people I have ever met.

My family grew up on welfare for a season. I was born to a single mom, who, at seventeen, worked various jobs just to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. She had a knack for survival, and an incredible work ethic. I have her to thank for many of the skills I draw from today.

I was always grateful for the help we received during the most difficult periods in our lives. Even with the assistance of welfare agencies, and a mother who worked hard and budgeted every penny, we didn't always have enough to make it from one week to the next. In those tough times, often the local church would drop off groceries at our home.

Although I drew many positive values from these experiences, I also developed some negative patterns. I became fearful of being poor. I witnessed the hardship that poverty brought on my family, and hardened my heart around the memories of having little.

As my fear overshadowed the blessings and small joys of our lives, I dismissed and forgot the great times and enjoyable moments. My mom had been beautiful and free. Despite the heavy burdens that she carried from day to day, she would still take the time to "play toys" with me on the floor. She would dance and act like a goofball. She was amazing. This was truly one of the most spiritually rich seasons of my life.

I am saddened, even now, to have buried my good memories with the bad. I thought money was the answer. This was, in my mind, the pathway to breaking free from misery. I would eventually learn how misguided I was in my own thinking.

As I grew older, I accumulated things. By the age of twenty-nine I owned four houses, two companies, and a decent sized bank account. I felt accomplished. I had separated myself from my childhood upbringing. I made it, or so I thought. As I contemplated my life and my success, I realized that I was alone, like Hearst, even in my marriage. I had spent most of my time and money on myself. Like the foster kids at the table, I was stuffing my own pockets instead of trusting there would be new, fresh things on the table tomorrow.

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lindseysfandoms · 8 years ago

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Emori Meta #1- Her Parents

I’m finally writing official meta, guys!

The following was greatly inspired by @bombshellsandbluebells‘ fantastic meta which you can read HERE, and is just some further thoughts. Go give them some love cause they deserve it!

And yes, I understand that I am about to exclude Otan greatly from this post. I don’t mean to undermine his importance to Emori’s life- because they were absolutely a united team- but sadly, the show gave us so little of him and their sibling dynamic that I in turn have so little evidence to pull from. I’m also trying to show how it should have Emori and Otan’s parents taking care of them both; the responsibility of raising a child should not have been placed on actual children cough. Don’t worry, this will make sense soon. So just keep this all in mind and forgive me as I focus only on Emori- I’m just trying to make a point and defend my girl.

This will be quite a jumbled mess, and it’s gonna be a long one. Stick with me. Sorry for the language. I hope you all get something out if it. Enjoy.

Do you know what actually breaks my heart ten times over about Emori every single day?

The fact that she must have had parents.

Yes. Emori had a mother and Emori had a father. That’s just simple biology- but it’s so much more than that.

At some point in time, two people must have fallen in love and couldn’t wait to start a family together. Someone must have carried Emori inside her stomach for ten months, felt her kick and move, wondered if this little life would have her nose or her lovers eyes. Someone must have watched her belly grow from the outside, who’s heart skipped a beat whenever she felt her move. Someone must have prepared for her and sewed her baby clothes. Someone must have spent hours thinking of the perfect name. Someone must have imagined all the things she would learn. Someone must have been ready to teach her how to hunt, how to trade, how to walk, speak, read, love, grieve, grow, be strong. Someone must have been ready to show this child what the world had to offer, and, despite their challenges, how beautiful still life could be.

Ask your own family- they did this for you. Whether they were your birth parents, adoptive, foster, two men, two women, multiple people, grandparents, aunts, uncles… SOMEONE out there took care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself. You DO have a family, because they are the ones who raised you, and they love you.

That’s who these people were supposed to be to Emori. I, for one, often forget that these people actually existed. They were already Emori’s parents. They already loved her, as any expectant couple does. They wanted her. They were ready.

Until she was born.

These people- who had just spent months of their lives waiting and preparing for this little child- took one look at her and changed their minds.

These people took one look at her and didn’t see the beautiful baby girl of their dreams- they saw a defect. They saw a stain. They saw a mistake.

And you know what they did?

They threw her away.

…Okay, let’s step away from Emori for a moment. It’s crucial to note something that The 100 has shown us in seasons past- not every Grounder agrees that Frikdriena are stains on the bloodline.

Way back in S2, Jaha crash lands in the Dead Zone, remember? He is rescued by a little boy with a facial deformity named Zoran, and he brings him back to his family, who is on the run in search for the City of Light. His mother Sienna later explains to Jaha that even though their culture called for it, they never could have left their boy to die. That mother and father would rather struggle and suffer in the blazing desert than give up their child.

Emori’s parents didn’t leave their people and vow to raise and love her against all odds. Emori’s parents weren’t willing to risk their lives in an unknown land if it meant their baby lived. Emori’s parents didn’t fight for her. They didn’t even consider.

They just got rid of her.

Let me restate that- nobody has ever fought for Emori in her entire life. Ever. Nobody has ever thought she was worth an effort. Not even her own parents.

That’s why she has only ever known to fight for herself at all costs. She’s never known what it felt like to be protected unconditionally. Emori had to raise herself, do all the things her parents were supposed to, and teach herself all the things her parents never did.

And I’m sorry, but who the fuck just does that? Who just throws away their own flesh and blood as if it was an assembly line reject? Who just ignores their paternal instincts and blindly follows the crowd? Who just punishes an innocent (a fucking baby no less) for something they had absolutely no control control over?

A lot of things about Grounder culture terrify me… but this just infuriates me beyond measure. If none of the shit above utterly breaks your heart for our Emori, I honestly don’t know what will.

And growing up, that hit Emori hard. Real fucking hard. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the guilt she must have felt. She carried that burden day in and day out. She truly believed it was her fault that she and Otan had such difficult lives. Her fault, because she was born this way.

Her fault that her parents didn’t love her, want her, care about her.

Emori thought this every single day of her life. That’s the mentality of her childhood. Can you imagine that? Living with the reality that your own parents didn’t want you? That no other human being around you didn’t want you? That humanity thought you shouldn’t be alive?

In response to all the Emori haters of Tumblr who cannot seem to give her a break… try stepping into her shoes, just for a moment. Imagine living through the tragedy after tragedy that molded her, being rejected by the people that bore you, never having parents that loved you. It would destroy you. It would harden your heart. You’d do things you wish you hadn’t.

This is the kind of shit that turns people into psychopaths. Emori’s past could have absolutely broken her soul. She could have given up on life, love, happiness…

BUT SHE DIDN’T!

Emori is not psychotic. Emori is not selfish. She is not evil, or vain, or cruel. Emori is human- flawed, yes, but beautiful and worthy nonetheless.

Just as @bombshellsandbluebells stated in their meta (again, linked above the cut), Emori never killed or stole just for the sheer fun of it. She was forced to do it to survive. She literally said this to Clarke in 4x07, people. It probably still haunts her.

If Emori had killed for the sheer fun of it, that would make her a psychopath, friends. BUT SHE ISNT BECAUSE SHE IS GUILTY AND IS STILL CAPABLE OF LOVING OTHERS.

Despite every terrible thing that happened to her in her terrible lot in life, Emori survived. Emori persevered. She got through that. She found acceptance. She found people. She found a reason to live. She realized what made life worth living- LOVE- in John Murphy, and the same goes for him. Emori found the good still residing in humanity after almost all of them let her down, time after time.

Now look me in the eyes and tell me that Emori isn’t an inspiration. Tell me, after everything she’s been though, that she’s still worthless. Tell me that she doesn’t deserve a family. Tell me she doesn’t deserve love.

The very people who gave Emori life didn’t think she should have survived- but now she isn’t just surviving; she’s living.

Emori will continue to be one of my favorite characters on this show and all of television. How did we get so lucky with her? I am more and more amazed with Emori each passing day, and I’ll love and defend her until the very end. She (and Luisa!) deserve so much more from the writers and the fans. I pray they receive it soon enough. Cheers to more Emori goodness in S5!

Wowza. That was long. If you actually made it to the end, bless you. Sorry that it’s all a big old mess, but I warned you, lol. You also might want to read the paragraph above the cut again if you need to, btw. PLEASE let me know your thoughts/responses to this, and anything important I could have missed! (But you know the rules, keep it nice)

Rock on -@lindseypeicott

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