#FORGOTTEN

[dg-darkfantasy]

She tried to tell Sonic. He didn't really believe in her cards… or her intuition, but she was certain she could convince him this time. But he ran before she could say a word; again. That's okay, she could go alone. There might be someone in need in the depths of the forest after all

Shadamy Week Day 4: Forgotten

@shadowxamyweek

Divi loves What If AUs

[amyb-draws509]

My interpretation of forgotten for day 4 of Shadamy week

[deadrabbithq]

Forgotten

@shadowxamyweek - Day 4

They only meet once a year. But they always fall in love every year, because they forget the other exist.

---

[creative-jellyfish]

"wait! don't forget...about me..."

sorry this is late lololol

honestly both the prompts for this day were so good. maybe if i still have energy, i'll do the y2k prompt

i really like how i drew amy in this one! maybe i'll go over it on my ipad and make it my pfp

[rosieandthemoon]

In Lucerne

[ericshoney]

Forgotten Birthday ~ Avengers

Summary: Being the youngest Avenger usually means you get looked over for missions, but you never thought they'd forget your birthday.

Warnings: Possible swearing, angst, tears, fluff at end.

Reader's age: 17

Being the youngest Avenger had its perks. I could outrun a speeding car, manipulate energy fields, and occasionally, snag the last slice of pizza before Tony could. But it also meant being underestimated, sidelined on the ‘easier’ missions, and treated with a gentle, almost patronising, kind of care. I knew they meant well. They were protective, especially Steve, who saw me as the kid sister he never had. But sometimes, I just wanted to be seen as an equal. A capable, contributing member of the team.

And today, on my birthday, I just wanted them to remember that I wasn't just a little kid anymore.

The day had started like any other. I woke up, expecting at least a mumbled "Happy Birthday" from whoever was awake. Nothing. I figured they were busy, caught up in some impending doom I hadn't been briefed on. I made my own breakfast, a sad, solitary affair with a bowl of cereal and a heavy dose of disappointment.

The day dragged on. Peter came over, rambling on about something that happened in school - the one place I think I was happy I never attended, Tony deciding I could learn at the tower - listened patiently as Sam complained about the lack of decent bird-watching spots in New York, and somehow sat through a lecture from Bruce talking about gamma radiation.

I paced the common room, trying to look busy, hoping someone would notice the date on their phone, the faint decorations I'd secretly put up last night (easily dismissed as late Halloween ornaments, I supposed). The clock ticked with maddening precision, each second a hammer blow to my already fragile hopes.

Finally, around late afternoon, Natasha walked in, her face etched with a familiar weariness. “Rough day,” she sighed, dropping onto the opposite end of the couch.

“You could say that,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice neutral.

She glanced at me, her eyes narrowed slightly. “Something up?”

This was my chance. “Just… a little forgotten,” I said, carefully avoiding eye contact.

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up. “Wait here.”

Hope flickered within me, a tiny, fragile flame. Maybe she remembered. Maybe she was going to orchestrate a surprise party, a cake with seventeen candles, a chorus of off-key "Happy Birthdays."

But no, she returned empty handed, “Tony needs help re-calibrating the repulsors. He’s about to blow up the lab. You're closest. Go.”

My heart sank. The flicker of hope extinguished. I forced a smile. “Sure thing, Nat.”

The lab was, indeed, a controlled chaos. Tony was covered in grease, his usually impeccable hair a mess. He barked orders at a bewildered-looking Peter, who was struggling to hold a wrench twice his size.

“Ah, Y/n! Perfect timing,” Tony exclaimed, without even looking at me. “Hold this. Tight. And don't breathe on it.”

I spent the next hour balancing carefully on a stool, holding a delicate piece of Stark tech, trying not to sneeze, and feeling utterly invisible.

Finally, Tony declared the repulsors “minimally functional,” and Peter, bless his heart, after being dismissed as a “potential explosion hazard,” whispered a quick, “Happy birthday, Y/n!” before scurrying off.

It was enough to make me want to cry.

I mumbled a thank you and slumped back into the common room, defeated. I couldn't even muster the energy to be angry. Just… sad.

The others slowly trickled back in, one by one. Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Bruce, all looking exhausted and preoccupied. Each of them passed me with a cursory nod, completely oblivious.

I decided to retreat to my room, to wallow in self-pity and watch bad reality TV. As I reached the door, Steve’s voice stopped me.

“Y/n, could you…” he trailed off, looking slightly sheepish. "You look a little down. Everything okay?"

"Fine," I lied, my voice barely a whisper.

He frowned. "You sure? You know you can talk to me."

I wanted to scream, to tell him that no, everything was not fine, that it was my birthday, and they had all completely forgotten. But the words caught in my throat, choked by disappointment.

"Yeah, Steve. I'm fine. Just tired." I turned and walked into my room, closing the door softly behind me. I leaned against it, tears welling in my eyes.

A moment later, there was a knock. I ignored it.

The door opened.

It wasn’t Steve. It was Bucky, looking uncharacteristically awkward.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “Heard you weren’t having such a great day.”

I glared at him, tears threatening to spill over. “What do you want, Bucky?”

He shuffled his feet. “Just… figured you might want this.” He held out a small, rectangular box.

I took it, my fingers trembling. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a silver bracelet. It was simple, elegant, and perfectly me.

"Natasha picked it out," Bucky said, avoiding my gaze. "Said it was…appropriate."

My breath hitched. “But… they forgot.”

Bucky shook his head. “We didn’t forget, kid. We just… we wanted it to be a surprise.”

He stepped aside, and I saw them. Standing in the hallway, all of them, looking sheepish and slightly apologetic. Tony held a half-eaten cake (chocolate, my favourite). Natasha had a stack of presents wrapped in brightly coloured paper. Steve was grinning, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. Sam was holding a boombox, which he promptly turned on, blasting a slightly off-key version of "Happy Birthday."

“Surprise!” they all yelled, their voices blending together in a cacophony of sound.

Tears streamed down my face, but this time, they were tears of relief and joy. I laughed, a shaky, emotional sound.

"You guys…" I choked out, unable to find the right words.

"We may not always show it, Y/n," Steve said, stepping forward and giving me a hug, "but you're an important part of this team. And you're important to us."

Tony clapped me on the shoulder. “Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. Cake time! And presents! And then, maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you drive one of my cars.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, cake, terrible presents (thanks, Tony), and surprisingly heartfelt speeches. I learned that Natasha had been planning the surprise for weeks and that Bucky had spent hours agonising over the perfect gift.

As I sat there, surrounded by my dysfunctional, chaotic, but ultimately loving family, I realised that being the youngest Avenger wasn’t so bad after all. They might forget things sometimes, they might underestimate me, but they would always, eventually, come through. And sometimes, that's all that really matters. Especially on a birthday.

Tags:

@riowritesitall @mandmilovehim @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @lgbtq-girl @parkjihoonsnudes @rajah-oliver

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[sunbegotten]

Why are you here?

[kiwriteswords]

Aaron Hotchner + Did they forget this storyline?

1/?

[iloveabortions]

Abandoned Phone Booth Location: Pyrenees, south west of France.

[notsocharmy]

similar flavours of shows/movies (i'm eating them all up)

[dutchs-blog]

Found A Forgotten Abandoned Ship Drifting

[lorenzonuti]

Mother Eye.

Twitter (X) | Instagram | Artstation

[voidspectreft]

The world seems gloomy without... without.... who? I can't seem to remember. Edit: I just want to say thank you all for the overwhelming support on this post. You are all amazing and I definitely will try to upload more art for you guys <33

[renaissance-room]

some secrets are older than we

[dreamspiritsblog]

“How would you like to be remembered ? I want to be forgotten.”

- Rei Kawakubo