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noobiestnoober · 2 months

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Shadows of Destiny (Part III) - Redemption's Edge (Kai x Reader)

I did not intend to write another part for Shadows of Destiny. But this sudden idea came to me and just wrote it? You can read Part 1 and 2 here>>> Part 1

Part 2

I hope you enjoy the story <3

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Kai carried Y/N into the forest, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had always been torn between his hunger for power and the rare softer moments he had shared with Y/N. As her blood stained his clothes, he felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him. For the first time, he wondered if there was another way.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, her breath shallow, "Kai, where are we going?" she asked weakly.

"Somewhere safe," he replied, his voice gentle but firm, "You need to heal, and I need time to think."

They reached a secluded cabin hidden deep in the woods. Kai laid Y/N down on an old, worn-out bed and began tending to her wounds with surprisingly gentle hands. As he worked, memories of their time together in the Prison World flooded his mind. He had been cruel, yes, but there had been moments when he had felt something more—something he had never allowed himself to fully acknowledge.

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Backstory

The 1994 Prison World was a place of endless torment and isolation. For Bonnie, Damon, and Y/N, it was a relentless nightmare where escape seemed impossible. Kai Parker, however, thrived in the chaos, using the Prison World as his personal playground. His constant tormenting and unpredictable behavior kept the trio on edge.

Bonnie and Damon quickly learned to avoid Kai as much as possible, knowing that any interaction with him would only lead to trouble. He reveled in their fear, his laughter echoing through the deserted streets of Mystic Falls. Kai's magic gave him an edge, and he used it to play cruel tricks, setting traps and ambushes that left them wary and exhausted.

Y/N, on the other hand, was different. From the moment she met Kai, there was a strange connection between them. Despite his cruelty, Kai seemed drawn to her in a way he couldn't explain. He would pester her incessantly, teasing and taunting, but there was a softness in his eyes that only she could see.

"Y/N, you should smile more," Kai would say, leaning against a doorframe with a mischievous grin, "It's not like we have anything better to do here."

"You're insufferable," Y/N would retort, crossing her arms and glaring at him. But even as she did, she felt a strange thrill every time he looked at her that way.

Bonnie and Damon noticed the way Kai seemed to listen to Y/N, how he would actually heed her words when she spoke. Whenever things got out of hand, it was Y/N who could calm Kai down, who could make him see reason, even if only for a moment.

One particularly harrowing day, Kai had set a trap that nearly killed Bonnie. Enraged, Damon attacked him, but it was Y/N who stepped in and stopped the fight, "Kai, enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with fury, "This has to stop."

For a moment, Kai looked at her with a mixture of anger and confusion, but then he backed down, muttering something about it being just a game. Y/N's intervention had saved them, but it had also solidified her role as the only one who could reach Kai.

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The day of the merge with Luke was one of the darkest in Y/N's memory. Kai, desperate for power and recognition, had forced the merge, killing Luke in the process. It was an act of sheer brutality, and yet, when the dust settled, it was Y/N who stood by Kai's side.

As he writhed on the floor, the aftermath of the merge taking its toll, Y/N knelt beside him, "Kai, I'm here," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion, "I'm not going to leave you."

Kai, his body racked with pain, looked up at Y/N with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. "Why?" he croaked, his voice barely audible, "Why are you still here?"

"Because I believe in you," Y/N replied softly, her eyes filled with tears, "And I won't give up on you."

From that moment on, Kai's relationship with Y/N began to change. Her unwavering support and belief in his potential for redemption slowly started to break through his hardened exterior. It was a long and difficult journey, filled with setbacks and moments of darkness, but Y/N's presence was a constant reminder that he wasn't alone.

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Present Day

As the fire crackled and the shadows danced on the walls of the cabin, Kai squeezed Y/N's hand. "I don't know what the future holds," he said softly, "but I do know that as long as you're with me, I have a reason to keep fighting."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with hope, "We'll face it together, Kai. No matter what."

As Y/N rested, Kai sat by the window, staring out into the darkness. He knew that Damon, Elena, and the others would come for him. They would see him as a threat that needed to be neutralized, and he couldn't blame them. But Y/N's words echoed in his mind: "You can choose a different path."

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Days passed, and Y/N slowly regained her strength. Kai stayed by her side, his demeanor softening with each passing day. He couldn't help but wonder if she truly believed he could change, and more importantly, if he believed it himself.

One evening, as the sun set and cast a golden glow through the cabin windows, Y/N reached out and took Kai's hand, "Thank you," she said softly, "for saving me."

Kai looked into her eyes, his heart aching with unspoken emotions, "I wish I’d met you sooner," he whispered, "Maybe things would have been different."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her gaze unwavering, "It's not too late, Kai. We can still find a way. Together."

Their moment of peace was shattered by the sound of footsteps outside. Kai's grip tightened around Y/N's hand as he stood, ready to face whatever threat had come their way. The door burst open, and Damon, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline stormed in, their faces set with determination.

"Guys, wait!" Y/N cried out, struggling to sit up, "Kai's different now. He saved me."

Bonnie's eyes narrowed, but she hesitated, "Y/N, you don't know what he's capable of."

"I do," Y/N replied, her voice steady, "And I also know he's trying to change. Please give him a chance."

Elena stepped forward, placing a hand on Bonnie's arm, "Maybe she's right. Maybe there's still hope for him."

Kai stood still, his expression torn between hope and fear. He knew this was his moment of truth, "I'm not asking for forgiveness," he said quietly, "but I want to try. For Y/N. For myself."

Bonnie's gaze softened slightly, but her stance remained wary, "We'll be watching you, Kai. One wrong move and you're done."

Kai nodded, accepting the unspoken challenge, "I understand."

As the tension in the room eased, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, filled with challenges and temptations. But she also knew that together they could find a way to redemption.

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In the days that followed, Kai worked tirelessly to prove himself. He used his magic to help those in need, slowly earning the trust of those who had once feared him. Y/N stood by his side, her unwavering belief in his potential guiding him through the darkness.

One night, as they sat by the fire, Kai turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination, "I don't know what the future holds," he said softly, "but I do know that as long as you're with me, I have a reason to keep fighting."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with love and hope, "We'll face it together, Kai. No matter what."

And so, on the edge of redemption, Kai and Y/N embarked on a new journey. One filled with challenges but also with the promise of a future where love and hope could triumph over darkness and despair.

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luimagines · 3 years

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Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms.

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you.

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.”

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #is this readers origin story #maybe?#i got a little carried away with this one #had to stop myself before i went even further beyond #i don't know if I want to continue with this as a story or just throw out some headcanons with modern reader #i like to think that everything i write takes place in a separate universe #especially the ones where they catch feelings #might throw out what they think of reader #might not #depends on you guys!#let me know what you think!

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [11]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, abuse

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: just to clarify, there are 14 chapters and an epilogue!! also you guys are so nice, thank you for letting me know what you think about this <333</p>

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

The wait was taking a toll. It was clawing at you from the inside, and paired with the occasional flare your anxiety gave, everyday was like spending time in an hourglass that was steadily filling up.

Sam helped; making sure the both of you ate after spending hours planning out and revising every detail, introducing you to the world when you spent too long indoors.

The constant rap of your finger against the table and pen tucked behind your ear was the position you found yourself in more often than not. Different scenarios listed themselves on a sheet of paper so you could go through the process of elimination, sorting each loophole out with proper backup.

Going to New York, 3rd floor of 32nd Street, only cash-

“I’m goin’ on a run.” Sam poked his head in from the doorway to the kitchen. “I’ll be back before Ransone calls.”

“What?” you mumble, not paying attention. You scratched out another implausible scenario, leaving you with many more to go. Everything had to be perfect.

“Going out. Be back soon,” he repeated.

It still took a minute to register but you found yourself shaking your head once it did. “No, don’t.”

“Why?” he straightened up, no longer leaning on the wall. “Something wrong?”

“It’s not safe.”

“I checked the cameras. No one’s out there,” he sounded confident but you couldn’t shake the feeling of skepticism around the situation that was beginning to return to you. “I’ll be careful.”

“You could be careful by not going.” You shouldn’t have to explain this to him. “It’s not safe.”

“Nothing’s changed yet-”

“They have.” You whip around to look at him. “Things are different now. We don’t know what’s out there.”

You both know that he had already been seen once. Who knew how many people were waiting forty feet away from the house? Risking his life for a jog was ridiculous.

“I can handle a 20 minute run,” he challenged. “I’m not even going that far.”

“You’re being reckless.” You could see the rebellious streak he had warned you of before making an entrance. Though you found his spontaneity endearing, the rashness that accompanied it you weren’t fond of.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, Sam,” you exclaimed. “We can’t fuck up the plan with you dying.”

He looks at you with his head tilted and annoyance on his face. A wave of tense silence washes over the both of you and only then do you realise it’s the closest thing you've had to an actual argument before.

“Is that really what this is about? The plan?” he questioned, arms crossed over his chest.

You hesitated.

“What else would it be about?” You know he saw it, the brief moment you took before you answered.

“I’m going for a run,” he said decisively. It stung more than it should have. “But I’m not going far. I’ll circle the house.”

That eased it, somewhat. You would prefer if he didn’t at all, but you were at peace with the compromise. A middle ground.

You nodded, looking away from him. He left soon after, but seeing him run past the window every now and then made you feel better.

Your mind replayed what he implied. You knew what he was saying, you weren’t completely dense. But you would never let emotions get in the way of work.

It had never worked out well for you before, not while you were still stuck with the organization. Like always, you could feel the familiar ache build in your chest, faces you prayed to forget flashing in your mind.

You exhaled, forcing yourself to not relive it again. You were thinking an awful lot about it for someone who supposedly didn’t care about it.

Stupid Sam with his stupid cute face and stupid good heart. Fuck him.

____

“Y/N.”

“Ransone.”

You nodded at Sam who was standing beside you with a glass of water in his hand, leaning his body weight on the table.

“Wilson there with you?”

“No, he isn’t.” Lying to him had become a habit by now, even though you were well acquainted with the consequences of doing so. “What’s the update?”

“We think we found them,” Ransone reported.

“Found who?”

“The people who shot at you.”

Your body tensed.

“Who is it?” you asked slowly, peering at Sam through the corner of your eye.

“Serpentine,” he said coolly. Sam scoffed, taking a small walk in circles to calm himself down. “Trying to establish themselves at the top again. Went for one of you but we don’t know which, found both of ya instead. Killed Pierce then waited for you to show up.”

Your eyebrows quirked up. You could see the muscles in Sam’s jaw tighten.

“How’d you find out?” You place your hand on his, urging him to calm down. He visibly softened, closing his eyes and letting out a silent exhale before nodding for you to continue.

“People talk. You know that Y/N,” Ransone sounded bitter.

“Not personally, no,” you mumbled.

“Well, they do.” The way his tone shifted back to normal like the conversation you just shared didn’t happen almost gave you whiplash. “That’s all on our end. What’s happening there?”

“Nothing. No updates.”

“Y’know, I’m surprised you haven’t killed him yet,” Ransone commented. “He tends to get… mouthy.”

“I don’t see him much,” you lied blatantly, ignoring the insult to Sam even though you wanted to retort.

“That’s a good thing. Can’t have you getting attached now, can we?”

You barely looked at Sam, only zeroed in on the fact that his thumb was absentmindedly tracing circles onto your skin while he paid attention to what Ransone was saying.

“I’m not.”

“I’m sure you’re getting sick of him,” Ransone chided, pushing this conversation far longer than you wanted him to. “After this I’ll make sure you never have to see him again, don’t worry.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows knitted together. You wondered if you responded too quickly.

“I’ll have him stationed somewhere else. Away from you at all times. Won’t have to interact with him again.” He was doing it again. Ruining any fucking form of a relationship you could have. “You can thank me later.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you bit back. He knew what he was doing. He was drawing it out of you.

“Well I thought you’d be more grateful consideri- oh,” he stopped abruptly. “Unless you’re already attached to him.”

You pulled your hand away from Sam who only looked concerned about where this conversation was heading. The sudden chill that took its place didn’t make you feel any better.

“Oh, Buttercup,” he laughed pitifully. “You know it would never work. Don’t you remember all the others?”

You didn’t say anything. Only folded your arms together and forced yourself not to go down the path he was trying to drag you to. If you hung up now he’d only take it as a confirmation.

“You two shouldn’t have been friends in the first place. Your lives would have never intersected if this didn’t go wrong.” You hated how he was pointing out things you had overanalyzed time and time again.

You hesitated for a second, forgetting the fact that you knew he was preying on you on purpose.

Because these were thought you’d already had. Thoughts of whether you were growing on him only because you were stuck together. Of course if he was forced to co-inhabit a safehouse for this long with anyone he’d like them.

And as much as you despised to even think it, Ransone was right. How would it even work once you got out?

It couldn’t.

And you wouldn’t let yourself even consider the possibility that it might because it was just wishful thinking at best. The line between friendship and something more were merging together so fast, you weren’t even sure they existed anymore.

“He doesn’t care about you, Y/N. I’m sure he’s charmed his way into making you think you’re important to him, but you’re not,” he sounded sympathetic, almost like he was patronizing you. “You’re just his way out of there, honey.”

Sam opened his mouth, ready to launch into a tirade. You held up a finger to silence him, praying that he wouldn’t do something stupid. You couldn’t lose the only communication you had with Ransone over this.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way-” What a truckload of horseshit.

“I’ll send you my location,” you broke in, words faltering. “Just have someone come get me.”

“If that’s what you want.” You could tell that he was barely hiding the joy he had gotten out of completely fucking with you.

“Don’t look for me directly. I’ll come to you. Just have someone ready to bring me back.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Sam. You had too much going through your head at the moment, things that had specifically to do with him.

“Are you sure? Someone can be at your doorstep within an hour, you know that.”

“I need time to sort some things out. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

“As you wish.” You wanted to smack him.

“Bye,” you say shortly, trying to wrap it up.

“Y/N,” he cut in before you could end the conversation. You wait for him to continue, not saying a word. “I’m sorry you had to hear it from me. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You roll your eyes and hang up, not letting him get another word in. The minute you got a second to breathe, everything he said began crawling its way back into your head.

“What the hell was that?” Sam fumed.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth.

“That wasn’t a part of the plan.” You want to tell him to calm down because you had never seen him this infuriated before.

“I don’t know,” you repeated, feeling more drained by the second. You fucked up by talking to him for so long, you knew it.

“That sick, abusive piece of shit,” he continued furiously, but you only looked down, tuning out his droning.

It was fucking humiliating to think that you could have a normal life. It just wasn’t possible. You were in too deep. Staying here with Sam only confused you, made you long for things that weren’t attainable.

“He’s right,” you utter quietly, effectively shutting him up.

He stared at you incredulously. “What?”

“He’s right.” You pushed yourself away from where you’re leaning on the table.

“About what?”

“You know what, Sam.”

“No, I don’t,” he retorted, “He said a lot of shit so I’m going to need you to specify.”

“I’m going to take a nap.” Your head was spinning; you didn't know how to tell him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Don’t run away from this conversation,” he sounded annoyed, rightfully so. “Tell me what he’s right about so we can talk this out.”

“About this,” you relented, spinning around to look at him. “Us.”

“He was just trying to get into your head, Y/N, like he always does,” Sam exclaimed, letting his arms fall beside him.

“This could never work, Sam. We’re friends because we see each other every single day, constantly.” You gestured back and forth between the both of you. “What happens once we get out? When you’re not stuck with me twenty-four-seven?”

He knew what happens to people when they get too close within the organization; he had first hand experience with Riley. They never survived long enough to tell the story themselves. They were ripped away from you, time and time again. It was so tiring to start all over from the beginning, every single time and for nothing.

You didn’t want it to happen again, not to him. You just wished he’d believe the other anxieties you deemed less important than this, and dropped the topic. Another death is not something you’d be able to handle.

“We deserve a bit more credit than that, I think,” he said defensively, taking a step toward you. “If our relationship was built solely on proximity then it wouldn’t affect you this much. We’re beyond that.”

“Well, what if we’re not? What if we realise we only tolerated each other because we didn’t have a choice?” you fired back, crossing your arms.

“Speak for yourself,” he huffed. “I would never let that dictate my choice.”

He sounded so confident, so assured that it wasn’t circumstantial. How could he be so sure?

“I don’t get you,” you whispered. “I can’t figure you out.”

“What don’t you get?” He looked like he was on the verge of pleading. He stopped right in front of you, a temporary barricade between you and the hallway.

“Why you treat me the way you do.”

He looks taken aback for a second. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you in any-”

“No,” you interrupt him, realising that it didn't sound the way you wanted it to. “Why you’re so… good. To me.”

He doesn’t say anything in return and you can’t even look at him, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

You had tried for so long to figure out what his motives were. Every time he did things that went beyond common courtesy, your gut would scream at you to find a hidden motive. No one was ever this nice to you unless they were put up to it. You’d had enough experience to realise this.

When you couldn’t find anything it only confused you more. You had shoved it away a while ago after he never displayed any other reason. You let yourself believe it for once.

But it was back; the incessant need to know everything. It was gnawing at you along with everything else because Ransone knew exactly what buttons to push. There had to be something.

“Y/N,” he called out softly. You felt his hands on your shoulders, urging you to look at him.

“It’s stupid,” you murmur, trying to ignore the fluttering in your heart.

“It’s not. And I need you to look at me when I say this,” he says slowly, drawing your attention to his face. “I care about you. More than you think I do. You’re not some means to an end. He’s wrong and I need you to believe me on that.”

He waits for it to set in. You get why he wanted you to look at him now. There wasn’t an inkling of deceit in what he was saying. You had seen him lie, seen him try to bluff his way out of a petty situation. It wasn’t this.

He cared about you because he wanted to. Not because he was forced to; whether it was because you lived together, or because of something else.

There was so much more you wanted to ask him but nothing got past your throat. It was too heavy. You needed help.

There was barely any distance between the both of you. You could feel his breath, skin tingling from where he was holding you.

You unconsciously move in, drifting towards the warmth he radiated. Your hands find a place on his sturdy chest, and you let his heartbeat tether you.

His eyes close when you lean your forehead against his, forcing himself to control his breathing that was threatening to get away from him.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, forehead pressed against his, trying to make your peace with what he said.

You want to kiss him, much stronger than the last time you had the same thought. Just to see what it’d be like.

You instead pull away gently. Your hands still rest on his chest. You need time to figure out where your head's at.

“I trust you.” Is all you can say, not tearing your eyes away from him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger there for a second and you revel in the flips your stomach does. “I trust you.”

But for now, maybe you can be content with where you are.

Next part

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izaswritings · 3 years

Text

Title: who we are in the aftermath

Fandom: The Owl House

Synopsis: Belos falls and the Golden Guard survives. It’s a new world and a new day, and sooner or later Hunter has to figure out where he fits in it.

Or: in which Hunter stays at the Owl House, becomes a (very, very reluctant) apprentice, continues to have accidental sibling shenanigans with the annoying human, and finally finds a place where he belongs. Probably.

AO3 link is here.

[Next chapter is here!]

chapter one: battling birds

They give him a room near the east side of the house, stuffed full of broken things and a miscellaneous number of random items. It’s not the human’s old room, and not Lilith’s, either—there’s too much dust and too much stuff for either option. Hunter can’t tell if he’s grateful for this or not. He’s still deciding on whether he’s grateful for the room at all.

There’s no time to set up a bed. He spends his first night here on a blanket, restless and half-awake and lying so still he’s half-convinced he’s shaking from the strain of not moving at all, not making a single sound. He can practically taste the dust on every inhale—does the Owl Lady ever clean, Titan help him—and by some godawful midnight hour Hunter gives up on sleep entirely and sits up, carefully, to whisper to his palisman.

Nothing important. None of the real questions that are swirling around in his head, like what am I even doing here and why am I still here and what am I supposed to do now, do you know? Instead he just says nonsense things, useless things, like “If I shine a flashlight in that little demon’s face do you think I could get him to chase the dot?”

The palisman coos and chirps and sings nonsense back. Red is a pretty color. I like tulips. If we iced over the Boiling Sea could we make human rain?

“None of those answers make sense,” Hunter tells it, and then writes a small note about the sea and rain connection on the dusty floor, if only because that’s actually kind of interesting and he wants to check it out again later.

Red tulips are tasty, replies the palisman, and nuzzles his fingers when he goes to pet it. Its feathers are soft and its eyes are luminous in the moonlight. Nonsense, all of it, but the nonsense helps—familiar as a friend, safe and easy. Better than thinking of Belos. Better than wondering what he’s doing here, sleeping on the floor in the Owl Lady’s house.

The human has left. He could walk out right now and she’d never know, not that her disappointment has any bearing on if he chooses to stay or go. She’s vanished back to the human world, probably gone forever. This house means nothing to Hunter—the Owl Lady is annoying and dislikes him about as much as Hunter dislikes her, and as endearing as the weird little demon is, that isn’t enough to make Hunter want to stay.

He could leave easily. He could go anywhere. He has nowhere to go.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hunter tells the palisman, at last, hours later. It is almost morning. The sunrise has only just begun, the peace of this dusty attic room wavering thin and fragile in the light of early dawn. It is a quiet admission. He says it very soft. “I don’t know if I know anything.”

I love you, says the palisman.

“That’s not an answer either.”

Oh, well.

Twenty minutes later, the Owl Lady’s weird bird-worm security creature bursts through the window and sings good morning loud enough to shatter eardrums. Hunter grabs his staff, throws a blast at the thing on instinct, teleports to the kitchen in a panic, and smacks the Owl Lady in the face with his palisman first thing in the morning.

The easy explanation is this: the castle falls and Belos dies and the Golden Guard somehow survives it all: portal collapse and half-realm merge and everything, which means when the dust settles, ultimately Hunter is left with absolutely no idea of what to do with himself.

“You should work with Eda!” says the human, in the aftermath. Given she says this in the ruin of what was once the Emperor’s castle, barely a half hour after—everything—Hunter feels pretty justified in his response. Which is to say he strangles his broken mechanical staff in his hands, takes a deep breath, and says in a very tight voice: “No.”

“But—!”

“No. No, no, no. I can’t even believe I did this, I don’t… it’s not happening. No.”

The human—he does actually know her name by now, after all they’ve been through, but also given all of This Nonsense she has lost name privileges—does not take that well. Of course she doesn’t. She’s so fourteen it makes Hunter want to die inside.

“Why not?” the human says, petulant. She has her hands on her hips and everything.

Hunter is kneeling in the rubble of a castle he’s called home for almost all his life. Somewhere down there is the throne where Belos used to sit; somewhere down there is a body. It’s not a surprise, really. It’s not a shock. From the moment the palisman fluttered into his life and Hunter let it stay, he always knew, deep down, that one day he was going to have to choose.

It does not make breathing any easier. “I don’t want to,” he says.

“You can learn wild magic! And, and glyphs! Eda knows a lot—”

“Does the Owl Lady know you’re offering up her house to an old enemy?”

“Eda won’t mind. Well, okay, maybe she’ll mind a little, but— she’ll let you stay if I ask her!” Yeah. The Owl Lady probably would. The human has that witch wrapped around her little finger; Hunter almost snorts. “Please, just hear me out. I’m sure we can—”

“No.”

“Hunter…”

“Don’t talk like we’re friends,” Hunter hisses. He drops the broken remains of the mechanical staff and stands, his hands curled to fists. “Don’t talk like you know me. You don’t know anything. You don’t—” He can’t breathe. He drops back to his knees in the rubble and rubs a hand over his eyes. “Just stop. Please.”

The human doesn’t say anything for a long time. On his shoulder, the palisman, thus far staying silent, flutters its wings and hops down to his knee, nudging his hand with its beak. It sings nothing. Just stays there.

After a moment, the human kneels next to him. There is blood on her face and dirt staining her leggings. “I know,” she says, and she suddenly sounds very tired. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything.

“I just—” the human starts, and then she stops. “I don’t know how else to help you.”

She looks small and weirdly sad, which makes no sense at all, because she hated Belos and never really understood why Hunter did not. (Hunter is not sure why either. If that is still something he can say. If you can betray your uncle and fight against your uncle and—and— and do these things, do everything Hunter has done, and still say that this feeling isn’t hatred.)

They aren’t friends, Hunter and the human. They have barely been allies. He doesn’t need her help, and she probably knows that as well as he does. But Hunter looks at her then, and despite the rubble and the ash and the blood on his tongue, for some reason instead of digging himself a makeshift grave he says—

“…Okay.”

Which still doesn’t really explain anything, but then, that’s just how it goes.

“Okay!” says the Owl Lady, smacking down her second cup of apple blood on the table. She does it too hard—a good splash of blood escapes the confines of the cup and adds yet another stain to her already-stained dining table. Hunter raises an eyebrow. The Owl Lady glares back. “House rules.”

There’s a red mark on her cheek, still, from where Hunter had hit her with his staff, and a stain all down her side from when, upon being hit with the staff, the Owl Lady spluttered and cursed and accidentally spilt the first cup of apple blood all over herself and the floor. She looks… barely awake.

“House rules,” Hunter echoes, dryly.

“Your scorn is noted and not appreciated.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” His palisman pecks his hand lightly. “Ow.”

“Luz, you owe me one,” mutters the Owl Lady, and takes a really deep drink of her apple blood. Hunter rubs at his hand, peeved, and eyes the palisman in case it gets any more hand-pecking ideas. The palisman blinks innocently back. Hmm.

“So. First of all.” The Owl Lady raises a finger. “Break any of my stuff and I end you.”

So just like the castle, then. Hunter sees where this is going. He settles gingerly back against the chair—why, why is all of her furniture stained—and rests his cheek against one fist, already bored. “Noted.”

The Owl Lady puts up a second finger. There’s a long silence.

“…Seriously?” says Hunter.

“Quiet, you.” She snaps her fingers. “Hah! Got one! Hurt King or Luz or Hooty or anyone I like in any way and I’ll destroy you. Yeah, that works.”

Hunter gets the sneaking suspicion these house rules are being made up on the spot, and are also only for him. He knows better than to say that aloud. “Fine.” Wait. “How am I supposed to know which random people you like or dislike?”

The Owl Lady grins. Her gold fang glints. “That sounds like a you problem, don’t you think?” She cackles a little. “Guess you’ll just have to find out! Or, you know. Maybe don’t attack anyone? That’s a start.”

Her owl palisman coos a little. Her nose wrinkles. “What? What do you mean that’s hypocritical? Stay out of this, Owlbert, I’m teaching life lessons or something.” Her eyes turn to him. “Anyway. You get the gist.”

Hunter’s hand is curled white-knuckled around his knee. His palisman flutters from the table to his shoulder, singing nonsense again. Red tulips, so tasty. Its feathers brush against his cheek.

He pries his grip off his knee one finger at a time. “…Understood.”

“Good.” The Owl Lady stands and stretches, yawning wide into one hand. “Anyway, I’ll give you a pass for this morning, because Hooty can be…” She trails off. Outside, muffled by the front door, the bird-worm creature shouts “HOOT” at full volume and then smacks into a tree.

“…a lot,” decides the Owl Lady. “But seriously, keep the windows locked. I don’t want you trying to blast him and burning my house down. I just got it back.”

Hunter says nothing. The Owl Lady squints at him and then picks her mug back up. “Riiiight… well, good talk, I guess. Get some more sleep, kid, you look worse than Luz after an all-nighter.” She waits. Hunter raises an eyebrow at her. “Ugh. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

At least Hunter isn’t the only one second-guessing everything. Still, that reminds him. “The human.”

“Luz,” says the Owl Lady, unimpressed.

“Yeah, whatever.” He links his fingers. The palisman flies down from his shoulder to his cupped hands, and hops a determined circle in his palm for no apparent reason. Hunter watches it play. “…Is she coming back?”

“What, tired of our company already?”

“Yes,” Hunter says, because obviously.

“Rude. Well, can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.” There’s a long silence. The Owl Lady sighs. “Luz… she promised she’d come back. You were there, weren’t you?”

Yeah, he had been. Standing in the back of the group, on the fringes of the goodbye. Two hours after the end, and the human had already roped the Owl Lady into letting Hunter live in her stupid owl house, and also somehow run around hugging pretty much everyone. And then she’d stepped through the mirrors that were all that remained of the realm-merge between her world and theirs, and not come back since.

She had, indeed, promised to return. But that was hours ago; that was yesterday. The mirrors are gone and no doors remain. And Hunter does not put much faith in promises.

“And when,” he asks the Owl Lady, a little lofty, a little snide. “When, exactly, do you think she’s coming back?”

The Owl Lady’s eyes narrow. Her lips press thin. For a moment he thinks she might snap at him, but then her shoulders slump, and in the end she just looks away.

“I don’t know,” the Owl Lady admits.

Useless, Hunter thinks. But he doesn’t say it. Just nods and turns away to head back upstairs and make that stupid dusty storage room somewhat presentable, because if he’s going to be staying here for—for—for whatever amount of time he ends up staying here, he’s going to breathe actual air instead of dust, thanks.

“Remember, kid! House rules!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunter says, and teleports back up the stairs without a single glance back.

Hunter manages to shove all the junk into one corner and make the start of a fairly presentable bed in the other corner by the time the human re-arrives in the Boiling Isles and throws open his door hard enough to smack it against the wall.

“You took my advice!” shouts the human, at the top of her lungs.

“Hiiiiii,” says Hunter, hands over his ears. The human takes a deep breath. Hunter closes the door in her face. “Byeeee.”

“Hey!”

“Why are you yelling.”

“I can’t believe you’re here!”

It’s just nonsensical enough to get him to open the door. Why does this always happen to him? Why is the human like this? “You said I should come here! You said—”

“Psh,” says the human and flaps a hand in his face. Hunter stops mid-word, gritting his teeth, practically feeling his whole face turn bright red with rage. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I just— I didn’t think you would actually listen! But you’re here!” She’s beaming. Hunter looks away. Her smile fades. “…Are you okay?”

He can’t sleep. His eyes are hot and burning like he wants to cry and he has no idea why. His uncle is dead.

“No,” he tells her. “No one in this house dusts. I’ve forgotten what air tastes like.”

“Psh-haw! I’m sure it's not that…” The human steps inside, inhales, and chokes. “Oh. Ay Dios mío. Wow, this room has not been dusted.”

“I noticed!”

“Oh, man.” She hides her nose in her elbow and sidles outside again. She’s wearing her weird human clothes and her palisman staff strapped to her back. She looks tired, and a little like she has no idea what she’s doing here either. She lingers in the door almost awkwardly, rolling back and forth from her heels to her toes.

Hunter watches her for a long moment. “You came back.”

“Haha. What gave it away?” But the smile she gives is small and blinding, brighter than the sun. “Watch this.”

“Watch wha—” The human lifts her hand and trails it through the air, dragging her fingers down in a straight line. Golden light follows her fingers. It breaks the air like a fractured mirror, a rift sparking to life in the hallway, the dark greens and blues of a galaxy intertwined with a burning glow. Hunter’s voice dies in his throat.

“If I push at it, it opens. Like a door. It leads me right home.” She’s smiling so wide it must hurt. The portal almost seems to whisper; the golden glow of the rift shines in her eyes and catches on her face, still tear-streaked. The human’s cried over this. She’s right to. The human world and the Boiling Isles—she has found a way to keep both.

Presumably he thinks he should be jealous. Instead he finds himself smiling too. “I’m glad,” Hunter tells her. “That’s… pretty cool.”

“Right!?” She bounces on her heels and waves a hand through the rift, dismissing it into nothing. “I can’t wait to show Amity. And Eda. And King. And you! The human world is—it’s amazing. The rain doesn’t kill you even a little bit!”

It takes sudden effort to keep up the smile. “…I’ve heard.”

“Anyway, I just came by to say hi. Eda said you were here, and—” She stops, visibly hesitating. Her head lowers. “I know… I know this must be hard. And that we aren’t really friends. But… if you need anyone to talk to… I’m here.” She peeks up her head a little, grinning. “After all, we’re house buddies now!”

“Human,” Hunter says. Her nose wrinkles. He sighs. “Luz.”

“Yeah?”

There’s so much he could say that for a moment he has no idea where to start. Why did you think this was a good idea. Please stop talking. Why are you so insistent that we could be friends. I didn’t say I was staying here for long. I’m very tired. You’re bizarrely forgiving. My uncle is dead because of you.

“…Thanks,” he says. “And— I’m sorry.”

Luz blinks at him. Then she grins. “Noooo problem, ol’ buddy ol’ pal!”

Hunter shoves her stupid smiling face away and closes the door on her toes. Luz yelps and swears and kicks at the door, and yells rude things in that other human language of hers. “Byeeeee,” Hunter says, and behind the closed door, Luz makes a muffled noise of rage and shouts, “Would you stop saying that!?”

And it doesn’t make things better but it doesn’t make things any worse, either, and when Hunter turns away he is almost smiling—so maybe it’s okay.

The sun sets. The dusty room has been aired out to its best ability, and Hunter has made a somewhat functional and comfy-looking bed in the corner. A sticky note with the boiling sea + ice = human rain idea has been ceremoniously pinned to the empty wall space. In addition to the sticky notes, Luz has donated his “sad, bad boy room” what looks to be a dying houseplant. Hunter suspects she gave it to him purely because she has despaired of trying to keep it alive herself.

He puts the plant on the windowsill. The palisman apparently loves it. Maybe he should find red tulips for it to eat. Whatever a red tulip is.

He settles next to the palisman on the windowsill, and strokes its head with his finger. He feels strangled and small and the sunset looks alien to him. Everything has changed. Everything is over. He is a powerless witch with a wild magic staff, and he will never be the Golden Guard again.

His eyes burn. He blinks fast. Far down below, he can hear the Owl Lady and Luz arguing over dinner.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing here,” Hunter tells the palisman. The sunset makes all the trees look shadow-like and sharp, outlined in red. It reminds him of his palisman, a little bit. “I don’t even like these people. What do you think? Is it too late to head back and dig myself a grave in the rubble?”

I’m happy I know you, chirps the palisman. It hops from the dying houseplant to the top of his head. I love you, I love you.

His throat feels tight. “…That still isn’t a real answer.”

I want apple blood for breakfast tomorrow. The palisman nibbles at his hair. It looks tasty.

He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he closes his eyes. “Okay. If— if you say so.”

The sun is setting, and the light is warm on his face. The Boiling Isles feels, for once, almost something like peaceful. It probably won’t last.

“We’ll stay.”

#toh #the owl house #owl house #toh hunter #toh golden guard #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #hunter owl house #owl house fic #toh fic #fic: who we are in the aftermath #fic update

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Hit mad falls in love with target - read on ao3

*-*

Peter waved frantically at Tony when he walked into the lab, eyes glued to a computer screen.

"Tony, quick! Look!" He demanded, nearly vibrating in his chair.

Tony made his way over, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned over Peter's shoulder.

"Isn't it awesome?" The young man asked, waving his hands around.

"What am I looking at?" Tony asked.

"Its cancer," Peter said. He points to different colored lines in the graph, all jagged and fluctuating. "This is breast cancer, and this one is pancreatic, skin, lung."

Tony hums as Peter continues to list each colored line as a different form of cancer.

"I was able to isolate the individual cells from everything else, and- look, look!"

Peter snatches Tony by the shirt sleeve and tugs him from one monitor to the one on the other side of the lab. He taps his fingers on the screen, bouncing on his heels.

"These are the cells after being treated with non-radioactive therapy," Peter said, looking up at Tony. "The number of cancer cells is cut in half within a week!"

Peter then drags Tony across the lab again, babbling excitedly as he does so. "Do you know what this means? This means we can start human testing! And we can market the treatment for practically nothing!"

He shows Tony a live feed of the treatment in action from a TV monitor.

"Think about the possibilities," Peter grinned. "Anyone can get treated, no matter their financial standing. And the treatment isn't as harmful as chemo or radiation. It doesn't attack the body as a whole, it isolates the cancer cells and leaves the rest of the body alone.

"No more hair loss or side effects. And we could cut remission in half too," Peter said. "Just think, this time next year, we could start selling to hospitals all over the world."

Tony smiles down at the younger man. He had known within the first day of meeting Peter that he wouldn't be able to follow through. He's glad he hadn't.

"Have you told anybody else?" He asks casually.

"Ned knows," Peter said. "And Bruce, but they were here when it happened."

"Where are they now?"

Peter gives Tony a wry smile, still too excited about his treatment working.

"I sent them home a couple hours ago," he said. "We've all been awake for almost three days, so I'm sure they've gone to bed already."

"You should be in bed too, don't you think?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter waves him off, shaking his head as he goes to his work desk. "I'll sleep later," he said, pulling his lab coat off and draping it over the chair.

He's dressed in his usual outfit; comfortable pants and a button up.

"Plus, I knew you'd make your rounds around this time, and I wanted to tell you," Peter said with a grin, grabbing his personal items.

That was part of Tony's cover. A janitor for the building Peter worked for. Hes wearing a navy blue jump suit, though he's left the cart out in the hallway.

"I'll walk you to your car," Tony hums, leading the way out. When he'd first started this, he'd offered his company to get closer to Peter -to find his vulnerabilities.

Now though, he does it because he's protecting the young scientist.

He'd skipped out with 45 thousand dollars paid to kill the boy, but as the days had gone on, and Peter had grown comfortable with him, Tony realized he couldn't steal him from the world.

Peter was incredible. He worked tirelessly to find a cure for cancer. He's already created a new insulin for diabetes that he's made available to everyone for only $10 a month -something not many other medical professionals liked.

Peter was making enemies left and right, and Tony decided to make it his job to keep him breathing. If not for the rest of his life, then for as long as it takes for the young scientist to see an end to cancer.

The boy wasn't getting much in terms of money for his creations. In fact, from what Tony's come to learn, the boy doesn't own a car, and rents an apartment with his aunt.

He sees enough to live paycheck to paycheck and this new treatment won't do much to better his life, but he's not concerned with money. He wants to make Healthcare more effective and affordable.

Tony's got morals. Enough of them to know when a hit is a bad investment. That didn't stop him from taking his payment anyway.

The two make it to the car park. Its dark, the overhead lights buzzing annoyingly. Its empty, save for a couple cars belonging to a few of the security guards, and the car Peter shares with his aunt.

It's an older model, grey paint chipping and metal beneath rusting near the wheels. Peter talks animatedly beside him, lands flailing in front of him.

Tony glances around them, scowling as he takes in the familiar cement structure.

"Wait," Tony says, just as Peter's pulling the keys from his pocket. They're a couple feet away from the car, and the hairs on Tony's arms and neck stand on end.

"What is it?" Peter asked curiously, reaching for the door handle.

It's just as Peter grips the handle that Tony sees the wire connected to the metal lock on the other side of the glass.

Tony is quick to react, grabbing Peter by the arms and wrenching him away from the door.

Peter yelps in surprise, but its cut out by the sound of a small explosion. Tony braces for the blast of air that knocks the two off their feet, and grits his teeth at the heat that follows.

Peter's pressed against the cement, Tony weighing down on him. His ears ring, but he quickly gets to his feet, unzipping his jumpsuit and grabbing the .9 mm from the waistband of his jeans.

The car is ablaze, crackle-popping and sizzling. Its just the cab thats on fire, but Tony knows its only a matter of seconds before the flames reach the engine and the fuel line.

Tony looks around him, trying to find the culprit -though he knows from experience that the man won't be here.

He grabs Peter by the armpits and pulls him to his feet. Blood smears against his forehead and jaw. His hands and arms are scraped up and Tony can tell his knees are busted too, but it doesn't look like anything damaging.

"We gotta go," Tony urges, already half dragging the younger back towards the building.

"You-you have a gun," Peter gapes, stumbling after Tony, arm in the older's hard grip. "Why do you have a gun?"

Tony reaches the door for the stairwell.

"I'm a hired gun," Tony said, glancing up, then down, gun following his eyeline before pushing Peter towards the stairs going up.

"I thought you were a janitor," Peter gasped, climbing the stairs and swaying. Tony places his free hand on Peter's lower back.

"Thats just a front," Tony confessed. "We got to get you out of here."

"Someone blew up my car," Peter said, panting as they continue up to the first floor. "Aunt May is gonna kill me."

"Not if Buck doesn't kill you first," Tony grunted, pulling Peter out of the stairwell and into the main lobby.

Tony's car is around the side of the building, but its open to attack. Tony can't keep Peter trapped inside the building though, so he risks it.

Their feet slap loudly on the asphalt as they run for the nondescript black SUV Tony had taken to driving.

He checks around the vehicle, under and inside before issuing Peter into the back seat.

Tires screech as Tony peels out of the parking lot.

"What- whats happening? Tony, what- why do-"

"Someones trying to kill you, Peter," Tony said, blowing past the guard tower at the exit of the parking lot.

"But why?" Peter asked dumbly, voice slurring slightly as more blood turns the side of his face crimson.

"I'll answer all your questions when we're safe," Tony promised, eyes frantically shifting from the area ahead of him to the rear view mirror.

Peter must really be feeling the effects of his head slamming into the concrete, because he doesn't protest.

"Lay down," Tony orders, merging into traffic and slowing down. "Lay low until I say."

Peter does -Tony thinks mostly because of his head injury. Tony relaxes a little, knowing the scientist won't be gunned down in the back seat.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe," Tony answered, keeping an eye behind him.

He doesn't see a tail, but he takes a round-about way to his safe house, just outside of Queens.

When they get to the small cabin, Tony checks the building before helping Peter inside.

"I think I have a concussion," Peter mumbles, swaying on his feet as Tony guides him to the kitchen chair.

"I don't doubt it," Tony agrees, setting his gun down on the table beside Peter's elbow before grabbing the first aid kit.

He pulls another chair over in front of the young scientist and opens the red box.

"Let me see your hands," Tony orders. Peter does, palms up. Tony begins to clean them and his arms.

"Tony," Peter says, breaking the silence. Tony doesn't say anything. He reaches up to clean the blood from the side of Peter's cheek.

"Is your name actually Tony?"

Tony makes eye contact before nodding.

"And you're a hired gun?" Peter asks, slightly breathless. "Like, like a hitman?"

"Yes," Tony answers, reaching the cut on Peter's hairline. Peter winces, but doesn't pull away.

"You kill people for a living?"

"Yes."

It takes Peter a couple seconds, but it seems to hit him. Hes bolting to his feet, the chair clattering behind him.

Tony leans back into the chair, watching as Peter begins to pace.

"What- Tony, you have to tell me whats going on," Peter demands, hand on his head. Tony knows from experience that pacing tends to help the scientist expell excess energy.

"I will," Tony nods. Peter continues his pacing. Back and forth beside the kitchen counter.

"Why- why are people trying to kill me?" He demanded. "Who blew up my car?"

Tony sets the paper towels down on the table, knowing Peter won't sit still for him to properly tend to him.

"The one who blew up your car is another hitman," Tony said. "Goes by the name Winter Soldier."

"You called him Buck," Peter said, pointing an accusatory finger at Tony, eyes narrowed.

"I did," Tony nodded. "Hitmen tend to run in the same circles, though we don't always like each other. Bucky was probably hired to finish the job."

"Finish the job," Peter repeated dumbly. "I'm the job?"

Tony nods, once more letting Peter process. He knew Peter would figure it out without Tony's help. He was smart.

"Finish the job means someone already tried to- to kill me," Peter said, panting as he continued to pace. The wound at his hairline is bleeding sluggishly, dripping down his temple and towards his jaw.

Peter wipes at it without thought, smearing blood against his cheek. He pauses to look down at his hand, fingers glistening in red.

He touches his forehead again, as if remembering he's still injured, then turns to Tony, accusation and fear in his Bambi brown eyes.

"You," he said softly, in disbelief. "You were hired to kill me, weren't you."

"I was," Tony nodded.

"But you haven't," Peter said. Tony can practically see the gears turning behind his eyes. "And, and now whoever hired you hired the Winter Soldier."

Tony only nods. Peter takes a shuddering inhale and has to grip the counter with a bloody hand to stabilize himself.

"I'm- I'm- who- who would want to-to kill me?!"

"The payment was anonymous," Tony said. "Thats how it works. But whoever it is is threatened by you."

Peter looks at Tony incredulously. "Me? Why me? I'm the least threatening person -like- ever!"

"You've cost Big Pharma millions with your insulin," Tony said. "You've patented it, so they can't take it and upcharge the way they've been doing. And if your treatment for cancer is a success, you'd be costing them even more."

Peter takes a moment to process that before he nods. "Right, yeah. I knew I was going to make a lot of people mad about that, but. But I never expected anyone to actually try to kill me."

"Money is a powerful motive," Tony said, a little too much experience leaking into his tone.

Peter hears it, because he stops his pacing, shoulders dropping. Exhaustion seems to pull him towards the floor like an anvil tied to his spine.

He sways a little, and Tony's about to offer him the chair again, but he moves to it willingly. When he sits, their knees are barely touching, and he blinks dazedly at his bloody hand.

Tony grabs a clean rag and leans forward to clean up the blood from Peter's head. The younger lets him, still processing and no doubt sluggish from the concussion.

"Why didn't you?" Peter asked after Tony had taped gauze to his hairline. It was patchy and poorly done, but it would help.

"Why didn't I what," Tony hummed, using an alcoholic wet wipe to clean the remaining blood from Peter's hands. The boy winces at the burn to his scraped palms.

"Kill me," he said, swallowing thickly. "You had plenty of opportunity."

Tony sighed, setting the wipes down before leaning forward and looking Peter in the eye.

"Because I believe in the work you're doing," he said honestly. "And I'm going to make sure you finish it."

Peter blinks once, twice, before breaking eye contact and sighing, body eating to melt into the chair as the air leaves his lungs.

"Come on," Tony said, standing up and slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants. Then offering his hand. "This place is safe. Theres a bed you can sleep in."

"I shouldn't sleep with a concussion," Peter said weakly, taking Tony's offered hand anyway.

"Its mild, I'm sure you'll be fine," Tony mused, heading deeper into the cabin to the bedroom.

The bedroom isn't anything special. A twin bed in the corner, a four drawer dresser and a blackout curtain.

Peter climbs onto the bed, not bothering with the covers or taking his shoes off. Tony thinks its best he sleep with them on anyway, in case Bucky finds them.

Tony moves to leave, grabbing the handle, and Peter bolts upright again, eyes wide.

"You're okay," Tony promises. "I'll be right outside."

Peter gives the barest shake of his head. "Stay here, please," he says softly.

Tony nods, shutting the door and turning off the light before making his way to the side of the bed. Theres an old step stool there, and he sits down at the head of the bed.

Peter lays back down, body too tense to ever fall asleep. Tony keeps his ears attuned to any noise that could alert him to Bucky, or anyone else, gun sitting perfectly stop on his knee, finger off the trigger, but ready at a moments notice.

"Tony?"

"Yes, Peter."

Peter shuffles around, and Tony turns his head just in time to feel pillow soft lips connect with the corner of his mouth.

He can't help but smirk as Peter settles back down. "Thanks for not killing me."

Tony chuckles at that, leaning his head against the wall. "I may be a hitman, but I've got morals," he says into the dark room. "Besides, nobody likes cancer."

Peter laughs tiredly at that before reaching his hand out and grabbing Tony's. Their fingers interlock, and Tony doesn't really know which one of them initiated it.

"You're going to be okay," Tony continued. "I wont let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me."

"I know."

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #starker #spiderman #my writing #ao3 #sfsummerbingo21

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wizkiddx · 4 years

Text

stop caring

yooo, so this is actually taken out of one of the sort of I guess series-esque things I’ve written, but it kinda just got shit at the end so I've given up and just wanted to post this instead. So sorry if some of the backstory isn't that clear or anything

tomhollandxfamous!reader

Summary: after your break up you bump into tom at a charity event and when shit hits the fan personally for you, someone who understands you is really what you need (angsty!!! maybe a bit of fluff too?)

TW: panic/anxiety attacks + mentions of assault

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3 months. 3 months you’d managed to avoid the boy that had given you the most joy in the previous years. 3 months without your best friend; of even when you’re with company feeling like a part of you was just absent.

And you had been thriving. Well… that’s what everyone thought. That’s what you tried to portray, because no matter how ‘famous’ or ‘successful’ people perceived you to be - ultimately you were like anyone else. Making your insta pop off after the breakup. And so to the outside world, through the very very small lense of social media life was great. Parties, friends, work.

You were a woman in demand - in all senses of the word.

But of course, as is the 21st century world, it was a lie. Instagram showed only snapshots of what can be very long 24 hours in a day. Naturally, a select few obviously knew - your best friend, Y/f/n being one of them. Yet still you were missing that one support, that one person who would drag you back to reality whenever you got too much into your own head. It actually rather annoyed you, how dependent you had got on him, in every part of your life.

And you really hadn’t expected to see him here today. You’d had your assistant check the guest list, he wasn’t on it. While getting ready, you had avoided all the products that reminded you of him; that soft nude lipstick he loved you in so much; your favourite (exfavourite) earrings. Had you known it, you would have worn these. Just because you knew it would get on his nerves a little bit. Nevertheless here you were, perhaps a little underdressed for the charity dinner in a dress you’d already worn before (because apparently that was a sin in the world of Hollywood). You couldn’t pin point from when, but it was simple yet elegant if you did say so yourself. A dark blue satin dress, that sat off your shoulders in a Bardot style; hugged your waist to accentuate your curves; then flowed outwards down to the floor with a slit up your right leg. It was simple compared to the sequin studded, diamanté jewelled dresses the rest of the women seemed to sport but it made you feel comfortable.

Besides, that’s what you needed today. This was the first time after the breakup you’d attended a public event without your best friend-turned-assistant-turned-absolute-life-saver. Y/f/n had been the greatest with you all through your life but especially recently, she deserved the break to go back home and see her family. It was a pretty decent excuse too, her cousins wedding, so you were in absolutely no place to complain.

Evidently it just HAD to be this event then, while you were flying solo, that you’d be faced with…well with his face. His fucking gorgeous, perfect and oh so sweet face.

Just seeing him, just seeing Tom fucking Holland, had the most intense burst of adrenaline course through your veins as you desperately scanned the rest of the room. Looking for an out, an excuse, someone to latch onto for the rest of the night. A distraction even.

Never one to admit it openly, but really you knew your coping mechanism of the past months had been to sleep with who you wanted. Because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? You knew it was stupid too. Not because of slut shaming or anything ( we aint got no outdated views here), but simply it wasn’t you. It wasn’t a good idea for you. It didn’t fit.

Tom hadn’t seen you yet, so if you latched onto someone you’d likely be in the clear. So obviously, when your frantic glances landed upon Joe Keery, you literally sighed in relief. Joe was great, stranger things was a bit of a guilty pleasure for you - especially when you were in your trailer and bored. Just due to your line of work, you’d met a couple times, he seemed like decent crack and to you knowledge was single.

Unsurprisingly then, you almost marched over to Joe, ignoring the slightly shaky feeling in your leg as your hearing seemed to focus completely on the sound of Tom’s bright laugh.

It was your choice too. You’d chosen to end things. It was on you. Well really, both parties were equally guilty. Tom was the one who had been too tired and highly strung and exhausted to put effort into the relationship. Stupidly though, you were too in love to realise for so long, in doing so draining yourself in the process. The constant flying cross country to see him, when he couldn’t ever return the favour because he was too busy. It was chipping away at you, even if you didn’t notice. It took an intervention by your manager Davey and Y/f/n for you to see things for what they were. To see that Tom didn’t care as much as he used to.

He tried to fight for it, of course Tom did, because he also truly and deeply loved you. Nonetheless though, it was too late. And that was it. You closed that book and returned it to the library. Something your mind occasionally drifts back to and you think ‘huh that was a good read’ - yet that is the only space it occupies in your mind.

OR that’s how it should be. Not you yesterday, comparing everything your date did to Tom and deciding everything was worse. Not you today, seeing him and nearly being floored by the way the suit was tailored to his body oh so exquisitely. Not you now, hearing his bubbly laughter and having to fight your muscles from taking you back into his arms.

In short, you were highly strung and pining over a boy you’d killed your chance of happiness with.

Not to blow your own horn, you knew Joe wouldn’t be against having your company for the evening. After all, you were a young, beautiful and upcoming actor. You were ,at the very least, self aware. And so for a good few hours you almost forgot about Toms presence, spending the time before the speeches sharing a ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine (or two) with him. He was funny. He made you laugh, even if he was pushing the limits occasionally and teetering just on the right side of socially acceptable. It was risky and in that moment, with the alcohol in your system, it made him seem more and more of an attractive shag.

By the time the speeches started you were both overly giggly and had to keep shushing each other as the presenter called for quiet. Inherently, you knew exactly the location of Thomas - who he was sat around; the main he’d had at dinner; the brand of beer he’d been ordering.But that was subconscious. You were here with Joe.

Under your voices, whilst getting some disapproving looks from the older, more mature, members of your table you and Joe sat through the first boring speech whispering jokes under your breath - making each other clamp their mouth shut to avoid bursting out laughing. Though tipsy, you were very aware of Joe inching closer and closer, while his hand was casually brushing yours or your shoulder or waist more often. You knew this was low, being so blatant in front of Tom. To be quite frank though, should you care? And did he care?

The answer in your head at least, was an almost certain no to both.

One speech merged into another spent giggling away until Joe did something he didn’t mean. Heck he didn’t even know. His jesting quickly had toppled completely over into absolutely not category. Your brain felt like it was swimming as the name you’d avoided after that incident , almost ten years ago. The flashbacks came thick and fast. You an innocent young actor wanting to make a way in the industry. And him. A powerful, ridiculously important slightly overweight 50 year old with bad breath. That room in the corner of his hotel that you were completely lost in.

You were going to be sick.

Somewhere, distantly, you heard Joe saying something… asking you? Asking you if your were good? It was drowned out by a roar in your ears, you jerkily nodded your head. You knew your breathing was jilted, shaky and shallow. You knew your heart was exploding. It actually felt like a heart attack, the way it seemed to be beating as though it were going to break out of your chest. This time you really really needed an out.

So without any words, leaving a bemused Joe, your chair screeched on the floor as you stood up, garnering the attention of the whole room. The heads literally swivelled to stare at you, judgement clearly there as you frantically half ran to the back of the room, pleading if your head fro the toilet to be nearby. You needed to be away from everyone and safe.

Thankfully your escaped the room and the beady eyes, locating the bathroom where you threw a cubicle open, shakily locking it before collapsing into the wall in floods of tears, harsh sobs racking your frame as you clutched your hands to your knees and rocked slightly back and fourth. You dress being a full length ballgown was spilling out into the the nearby cubicles and under the door, but presumably you were alone in the loo - not hearing any other signs of life beyond your own sobs.

This always happened when you had your anxiety attacks. It was like clockwork. Zone out, stop hearing, loose control of breathing, heart starts pounding, make a quick escape to a toilet, cry and then…

Well back before Tom, it had been to throw up. That was the only thing you’d ever found to ground you enough to get your body backorder your own conscious control. It was like a wave of relief after, like the drowning feeling in your lungs had just evaporated away. But the Tom happened. The first time he’d seen you panic he hadn’t a clue what to do either. SO he had just sat with you, not wanting you to be alone in that state and waited. That panic though, had lasted so long that you’d almost made yourself pass out from the hyperventilating. When that had happened, Tom had gone into emergency mode. He had been scared to touch you, in case that made you worse, but when he saw your body going limp he didn’t have a choice. He’d collected you into his arms, with your head against his chest. Being this close to calling an ambulance, the relief Tom felt when your breathing got more and more regular was unparalleled.

Together, when he had you lying in his bed (recovered, if mortified and exhausted) was when you realised that you hadn’t been sick. And that was because of him. You’d grounded yourself on his heartbeat and breathing, listening to it and making yours sync up. Thats what had saved you that evening.

Now however, Tom was gone. This was the first panic attack you’d had since he’d been gone. Of course while you were together you were rarely in the same place, even so you’d phone him. But not now.

This all led to you sat clutching your knees as your mascara dripped down your cheeks as you had to fight to get enough oxygen into your body. You didn’t want to get into that vicious cycle of making yourself ill again. It really hadn’t been healthy.

Who knows how long you were sat there sobbing before you heard the door open and in response you clamped a hand to your mouth trying to stay silent. This irrational fear overcame you as you sat stock still, fearing the footsteps on the marble floor of the fancy function venue. Even the toilets were pretty posh.

“Y/n?…. It’s-it’s Tom.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was all that was going through your brain as you bit you lip - presumably painfully, yet you didn’t really feel pain in your current state. “Look I saw you leave and I know your on your own tonight… I-I couldn’t leave you on your own if your… well you know.” Everything was going so so fast in your brain, that it actually scared you into stopping crying, so much so you felt your hand flop back down to your side. “…I was waiting outside because I didn’t want to errr you know… but you’ve been 20 minutes so I need to know your good…..okay?”

The boy was too fucking good. And stubborn… he was too stubborn and you knew he wasn’t going to give in. It was also fairly evident that he knew you in here - there was no pretending you didn’t exist.

“Y/n? Come on you gotta let me know.”

“I’m fine. You-you go.” Only when you spoke was it evident to yourself just how not-okay you really were. Tom just chuckled and spoke again.

“How long have you known me for? That’s just not going to happen is it.” You already knew this, but something about the way he said it made you realise a sad laugh, momentarily making you feel a bit more in control. He seemed to like that response, you heard him bend down and then saw the bottom of his tux as he sat down leaning against your cubicle door.

“Is …is this your first one… since? You both know what he was talking about. Since you broke up.

“Uhmm I-“ You swallowed down a fresh rise of nausea, somewhat determined to not throw up when you ex is barely a metre from you. “Yeh I suppose.” In didn’t seem a revelation to Tom, yet he still hummed lowly in response as the room drifted back to silence.

“You… you wanna try to breath with me?… You don’t have to open the door just…”

Croaking a please in response because this feeling was really blood awful and you wanted it to end, Tom started exaggerating his breathes, as you shakily and eventually managed to start to time it with his. Without thinking, when Tom’s palm snuck half under the door you immediately grabbed and squeezed it - the contact helping to synchronise your body with his.

It should be an alien feeling after your time apart. But no it felt oh so natural and so very right.

Once you’d collected yourself and realised how bloody stupid this whole situation was you withdrew your hand back, loosing the warmth as you shook your head in disapproval of yourself. So very fucking stupid. He was silent for a bit, letting you think things through whilst still sat outside your cubicle.

“You good now?” You hummed in agreement and you felt Tom’s head fall against the door, looking up to the ceiling. “Want me to go?”

“If you want to” That was met with silence, but a very telling lack of movement that spoke a thousand words.

“You should get out of here… you wanna avoid the trigger again and I mean I know you’re exhausted.” The boy had researched panic disorder and attacks when he found out you suffered with it - he probably knew more of the psychology of it than you, whilst never having any first hand experience of it. Annoyingly he was right, as per, after attacks you always always slept for hours - it was just a draining process. “I’ll get you a car if you want?…. I’d like to make sure you get back okay if you don’t mind.” With only your cold and empty residual feeling left, his words still managed to ignite a spark of warmth in your chest.

“I’m not going to ruin your evening Tom.” You tried to refuse even if it was very very forced and very very hopeful he wouldn’t give in.

“I was having a crappy evening. Sitting in the ladies toilet talking to my ex through a toilet door has actually been the highlight.”He chuckled playfully in a self pitying way, somehow again making you giggle. And so he had you standing on slightly unsteady feet, your black heels held in one hand because no wasn’t the time to put yourself through teetering around on pin needles. The shuffling outside the door meant Tom stood up too - before you unlocked the door and opened it.

Prior to seeing Tom your eyes locked on the sight of your reflection, in the mirrors above the sinks opposite you. Perhaps the only way to describe it… it was a sight. The shock being in the juxtaposition between the elegant dress, which even having been crumpled on a bathroom floor had somehow managed to survive and still look near the off-the-hanger; but your face? Oh that was a shit show. You’d cried your makeup off almost completely, leaving your face blotchy and shining as well as the ever so telling smudged mascara under your bottom lash line.

You had to laugh or you’d just start to cry.

“Don’t worry I’ve seen you much worse.” You saw in the reflection as Tom leaned in and whispered in your ear, making your eyes roll and head shake as you looked from him back to you.

“I look like a paps dream.” Without instruction, Tom bolted into a nearby cubicle, wrapping layers of toilet roll round his hand before offering it to you as a makeshift wipe.

“This is the glamour of Hollywood don’t you know? Wiping your face with bog roll”Thankfully taking it, you offered Tom a thankful smile as he stepped back, giving you space as he leant against another cubicle pillar. Once you finished up blotting your face, Tom had already shrugged off his jacket walking toward you as he offered it out. Tilting your head to the side in a questioning manner Tom just shrugged, saying it’d help avoid the paparazzi just in case. In reality you weren’t so sure, but anyhow you still appreciated the gesture and draped it round your shoulders with a muttering of thanks.

At this point his phone pinged, the car was outside, so without any words exchanged he led you to the door, checked the hallway was clearly before guided you back to the exit. There didn’t appear to be anybody lurking around, which you were oh so thankful for as you almost threw yourself in to the safety of the blacked out car. Tom followed and you both, almost comically as if scripted, released a sigh in unison as you melted into the seats. That had you chuckling dryly as you sat in silence.

“You know we can’t move till you say where you’re staying?” Teasing you, Tom shot you that ever mischievous grin that made the blood rush through your skin. After you’d told the driver, the car pulled swiftly out the laibi.

“Did he…did he say something?” Tom’s demeanour had steeled up and you looked questioningly up at him. “Joe… you looked…close.”

“Oh”. You were taken aback. You should have seen this coming to be fair, him asking for the trigger this evening - and yet you were more shocked at his jealousy. How he looked pained to mention Joe by name. “Um no… well sort of…it was a joke. He didn’t mean it but it er…it took me back.” Tom knew your history, he knew what happened all those years ago and he nodded slowly , keeping his eyeline straight ahead.

“He’s a dick.”

“No he’s not…. He- he was sweet enough . It was all me.”

“What?”

“I pushed myself on him. I-I saw you… I was spooked.” Tom left it to drift back to silence. He had a lot of thinking to do too.

He’d obviously kept up to date with you. Call it a professional interest. That was the problem being in love with someone when you weren’t allowed to be. But it hurt like hell, especially when he heard what you were doing. Because he knew this wasn’t you. He knew you sleeping around wasn’t going to help you recover - in fact he thought (and quite correctly) it was the opposite. That long term it’d only cause you more and more pain.

“You know, you don’t have to do this?… I-I know it isn’t you. I’m not insulting or anything I’m… I’m just worried.” You knew he was being truthful . And infuriatingly he was right. Which only made it even more annoying.

“Why do you care though?” Looking out the window that was all you could think to say. That was your subconscious talking as you didn’t really want the answer. Or you desperately did but you knew it’d be hard to get over.

“Y/n” He sighed, making you look across at him “I’ve not stopped caring… I’ll never stop caring.”

Wasn’t that just a knife to the heart. You held your breath momentarily, not knowing what to think (nervermind say) in response to that. Everything in that car seemed to freeze, Tom’s eyes piercing the deepest and darkest parts of your mind as he stared at you. You both really weren’t over it. You were both hurting. You missed each other.

And you were about to dive in all over again.

But then the indicator ticked on. The car pulled to a stop. The ignition switched off by the driver. You were at your hotel. The journeys end - quite literally.

Tom felt it too. He knew if ever there was a chance, however rogue and unlikely, of you two working things out it was within this journey. And he’d failed.

“I-uh…I-this is me” Stammering through, distracted by the way Tom’s eyes shone with disappointment.

‘Yeh - yeh it is I guess.”

“Well er… thanks for, well you know… for saving me. You er-you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to”

“Yeh well er thanks…. And er-Oh! Your jacket” You realised, already tugging the tailored suit jacket from your shoulders.

“No no it’s really okay. I have loads anyway.” See?In Hollywood you really weren’t allowed to wear the same thing twice.

“Oh-okay. Well er….I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Can I walk you to your room, just to-check no one bothers you?” Tom was trying. Desperately trying. He could feel you slipping through his fingers again, this time he wanted to put up more of a fight. You shook your head thought, a sad smile gracing your lips.

“I’d say yes but I think I know where that’d end up…. And I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Defeatedly nodding, Tom just smiled in a tight-lipped fashion, equally as sadly at you.

“I’ll errr I’ll see you around.” While gathering yourself and preparing to exit the car, your hand on the door handle. Tom responded with a ‘yeh’ but before you left you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before whispering under your breath..

“Thankyou Tom.”

part 2 ish of sorts --> link

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x famous!reader

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nymphigeon · 3 years

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From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

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flowerbloom-arts · 3 years

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Welp, since two people asked (@xanzusx and @ratdaduniverse ) I suppose I have an excuse to do an unnecessarily deep dive into a character literally nobody cared about that much or bothers to draw before I came along with my thing for all too unpopular characters!

Let's start with a quick tl;dr :

Aunt Jane is (probably, this is more speculative than anything) a victim of capitalism and misogyny working together to create a damaged woman with anger issues and a toxic relationship with money.

How, you may ask? Well, let's take a close look at her titular, starring, and only episode of the 90s series;

episode 27: Aunt Jane

In the beginning of the episode, Moominpappa receives a letter from an aunt from his father's side and it's made immediately clear that he is not a fan of his aunt or the reason she sent the letter to him, it's also stated that Aunt Jane had no one else to turn to besides her nephew to "discuss money matters" as the episode puts it. Moominpappa says that he isn't really scared of Aunt Jane herself (though she is quite scary and a not-great person as MP himself describes, being bossy and not letting people have a moment of peace) but it's the money he's afraid of, he's afraid of having to discuss something he knows nothing about with someone he dislikes, so he takes it upon himself to leave before she arrives. (sidenote: this may tie into some fear Moominpappa has of looking dumb and ruining his ego, aswell as generally not being able to put up with people he finds unpleasant for very long)

Then Aunt Jane arrives on a rowboat down the Moomin Valley river with someone else rowing for her (cool detail: her boat actually matches her umbrella! We can assume she owns the boat based on this and the rower is either an employee or some guy she paid [his mustache is delightful by the way, I love the round little fella]) and she just has this... Very odd blank stare as our very first shot of her? It's an odd first impression for the viewer to be sure.

Jane gets off the boat and the rower simply continues down stream without her, Jane notices Snufkin fishing and asks for directions to Moominhouse, Snufkin gives her the tip and then Jane asks Snufkin if he could carry her suitcase of gold coins for her. Snufkin politely declines, saying he's busy, and then Jane attempts to bribe Snufkin by offering a "handsome reward" in a very confident manner, almost as if that trick has always worked before. Snufkin still declines, saying he just wants to fish. Aunt Jane is legitimately shocked at Snufkin not wanting money, now a first-time viewer might interpret this as Jane being vain with her wealth but it actually ties into how everyone in her life would simply be interested in her money (which is something that'll be elaborated further on) so Snufkin is perhaps the first person in a long while to not be interested.

Jane has little time to let that sink in as Sniff (the ultimate capitalist of the show) runs in, introduces himself as simply someone to help take her to Moominhouse and goes to help Jane carry her suitcase, to which Jane simply acts like a more poised individual and bimbles behind Sniff.

They arrive at Moominhouse right after Moominpappa had already left in the previous scene, Aunt Jane adjusts her glasses and says "A round house? How stupi- typical of my nephew." which establishes that Jane... doesn't like her nephew (and considers round shaped houses as being dumb [which I think a couple architects/engineers would agree but correct me if I'm wrong])

Jane gets welcomed by Moominmamma and after Moomintroll introduces himself Jane's attention immediately goes to Little My, assuming that My is a child of the family, she says that My's too small for a daughter (her expression says that she's bothered by it more than anything), then Moominmamma explains that Little My's not related but lives with them and My says she won't get any bigger, to which Jane simply squints at the small creature in a strange but I guess concerned manner? It's easy to assume that there were some strange beliefs about daughters that she was raised on.

Jane then asks where her "worthless nephew" is (again, she doesn't think highly of him), Moominmamma barely manages to not tell her the truth and Moomintroll saves her by saying Pappa's away to find inspiration for his work. Jane says "When has he ever worked? I'm here to see him!" (Score 3 for putting down her nephew) and Moomintroll suggests she should talk to him instead, Sniff butts in saying Moomintroll knows nothing about money and Aunt Jane simply says "In that case it's about high time he learned! As for his father, I may still disinherit him." (Score 4), Sniff says he's a member of the family and she can talk to him about money, Moomintroll says he's a great friend of his, and Jane adjusts her glasses then says "But hardly a member of the family" (we can see here she only really cares about relations more than anything when it comes to others taking care of her money, perhaps the money was passed down through generations and she wants to uphold that tradition, which is only one major reason she wants to get rid of it)

Snork and Snorkmaiden walk in, Snork introduces himself and explains how his sister is a "special friend" to Moomintroll and basically that they might get married someday, thus merging the Snork and Moomin family together, thus making them practically family already (Which I find just so utterly hilarious, he can be such a weasel I love him). Jane doesn't accept that as an argument (OBVIOUSLY) so Snork explains that he needs money to fund his flying ship project, and then Mr. Hemulen walks in with a very happy confidence (that chaotic metallic theme [you know the one if you pay attention to the soundtrack] cues but then stops shortly, I got so hyped and it just ended like that :( ) and he tells Aunt Jane about himself and asks her to fund his scientific research (assuming Sniff had already told her about it) and Sniff tries to save it by explaining that they could grow a greenhouse of orchids and roses and sell them to make money, he corrects himself by saying "I mean you'll make alot of money!" instead of "we'll" which he thinks might make her more lenient to the idea, but Jane shuts it down by saying she already has plenty of money (showing that she really isn't interested in hoarding wealth, she's satisfied with what she has especially since the whole point of going to the Valley was to shove her money-related issues onto her nephew)

The three guys try to talk over eachother trying to explain themselves, Jane is overwhelmed and confused so she stops them and asks Snork to clarify that he's Snorkmaiden and it goes downhill from there, Snork asks if he's explained his connection to the moomins well enough, Sniff says he's a friend of Moomin's, Mr. Hemulen asks Sniff if he could explain his research to her for him, and they all talk over eachother, Aunt Jane looks back in forth in a confused and overwhelmed manner and then gets angry, then she yells "BE QUIET EVERYONE!" with an overhead shot of Moominhouse (this sort of sets up Jane's anger issues which builds and builds until the climax of the episode)

Moominmamma escorts Jane to her room and tells her that she can call if she needs anything before leaving Jane alone, Jane more or less just observes her surroundings (it's clear she wasn't used to such a simple environment but she isn't opposed to it either) and then sits down on her bed with her eyes closed, looking peaceful for literally less than two seconds before Sniff knocks and she stands up instantly with her hands held in front of her like a "proper woman" sort of pose. Sniff stumbles in the room with the suitcase of gold and sets it on the floor, Jane thanks him and then Sniff stands there and looks around as if he's looking for something and goes "Ehem". Jane sees this and unenthusiastically asks "What is it? Want a reward?" (This is like the most telling scene of the episode and shows that this kind of thing is something that she's used to) Sniff lies at first but then admits it after a second thought, he hesitates and looks around if anyone would eavesdrop on them, Jane tells him to make up his mind and then Sniff gets close to her and whispers that he knows where Moominpappa is, Jane dismisses it saying she knows that he's on a trip (atleast she's willing to believe it? Doesn't revert any of her put-down points tho), Sniff corrects her by saying he's actually nearby and Jane is immediately interested and asks Sniff where he is, Sniff says Pappa said not to tell her where he is since it's a secret and after teasing it with her Sniff says he'll be taking a risk if he tells her so Jane asks "Oh, how much do you want?" knowing full well Sniff wanted to get paid for this without him even saying it, Sniff plays it safe and says she can decide how much she'll give him.

Sniff leads her on the beach, Snufkin notices this and runs to the cave to warn Moominpappa before she arrives (what a champ, that Snufkin) and then Sniff and Jane enter the cave with it's watery floor, Jane thanks him with a singular silver coin, Sniff asks if that's it and then Jane replies (with a very angry tone) that yes that's it until she actually sees her nephew, the two enter the cave with no Moominpappa in sight, Sniff is bewildered by this and Jane is very angrily disappointed that her "worthless nephew" (Score 5, though it's just a repeated insult, it still counts) isn't there, Sniff says "this is very strange!" while desperately looking for Moominpappa and Jane assumes Sniff had tricked her and takes away Sniff's one coin as punishment and simply leaves despite Sniff's desperate cries that he has to be there somewhere.

Jane goes back to Moominhouse and enters the kitchen to ask Moominmamma where Moominpappa is hiding, Moominmamma gasps and tries to reiterate the lie Moomintroll said, but Jane says she wants to know the TRUTH, so Moominmamma stutters and Jane tells her to hurry up, Mamma sadly admits that Moominpappa is hiding in the cave but Jane says she's already been there and didn't find him. Mamma is suddenly hopeful and is like "Oh so he really must have gone on a trip!", Jane proceeds to ask why Moominpappa would want to hide from her anyway, Moominmamma "suggests" that maybe Moominpappa is afraid of her, and Jane gets legitimately surprised and furious over this and asks "But why!?", Mamma says that he's mostly afraid of money matters, Jane exclaims "Incredible!" and contemplates "Afraid of me because of money matters...?" and then storms out of the kitchen saying "He must be utterly mad!" (Score 6)

Jane sits down on the table in her room and talks to herself about how this family is so confusing and only Sniff seems to know anything about money, Little My enters smuggly and shits the behind her, saying she knows where Moominpappa is at that moment, Jane assumes Little My wants gold from her and My says she couldn't care less about her silly gold, Jane strangely enough seems to try and defend the thing by saying "My 'silly gold' indeed! With my 'silly gold' I can assure you you could do just about anything you want!" and My claps back with how it isn't helping her find Moominpappa, this arouses Jane and My continues saying she should forget about her money. Jane responds by turning around in her chair to look at Little My directly and says "Young lady, money isn't something you could just forget about! It needs constant looking after- that's why I must talk to Moominpappa at once! Now take me to that rascal nephew you of mine if you really know where he is, you hear me!?"

My and Jane walk down the dirt path and see Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden being all lovey-dovey with eachother on a tree stump, saying how they love eachother and such, Jane scoffs "Oh, how frivolous!" and My smugky responds with "Not really, if I could find a small enough boyfriend, I'd be frivolous just like them too!" and starts to walk away, Aunt Jane turns to her and says with a very strong sense of longing "Ah well, Fredrick and I were frivolous once..." (With an inexplicable voice change by the way) and My just teasingly says "Really? If you says so! Suppose I'll have to believe you!" while still walking away, and Jane gets so mad at this dismissal/mockery that she almost snaps her umbrella but stops herself and stomps forward to follow Little My. The marshmallow couple notices the two and follow them.

Little My interrupts a game of chess between Snufkin and Moominpappa in Snufkin's tent, she introduces them to Jane as a "special guest" and Snufkin is shocked by her presence, he says Moominpappa's name and he looks up to look at his very angry aunt, Moominpappa runs out of the tent and Jane chases him with her umbrella around a tree and stomps on the ground with enough force to make Moominpappa, Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden hop off the ground (OKAY I'M NOT GONNA GET INTO THIS PART SINCE IT DOESN'T REALLY TIE INTO THE THESIS THAT MUCH AND WOULD BE TOO SPECULATIVE BUT HOLY CRAP??? HOW??? WHY DOES SHE HAVE THAT KIND OF STRENGTH??? IS IT SUPERNATURAL??? HELP????), this causes Moominpappa to fall over on the ground and Snufkin intervenes by saying Moominpappa was just coming back from his trip and stopping by to play chess with him, Moominpappa tries to go along with this but Little My says it's no use since Moominmamma already told her the truth, Moominpappa gets all defeated and Jane asks him why he's afraid of her, Moominpappa says it's not that he's afraid of her, he's afraid of her money. Jane gets enraged by this and stomps of the ground again to send everyone hopping, she then tries to "reason" with Moominpappa on this by saying "It's perfectly good money and all in gold coins! Listen nephew, I'm depending on you as my only relative!" (For some reason her voice gradually gets higher pitched in this line? But anyway this just confirms Moominpappa is literally the only family she has left), Moominpappa echoes "Yes, yes, depend." and Jane continues with "When I get too old to do it, you must look after my gold for me! I'm relying on you!", Moominpappa gets spooked by this and desperately suggests they should just give it away to people who need it, Jane blurts out "HOW UNGRATEFUL!" and turns red from rage but then is subsides, the red fades away and Jane, probably after having a thought, breaks into actual sobbing and falls to the ground to cry even more, Moominpappa tries to comfort her and suggests that maybe they should put it in a bank, Jane retorts through her sobbing that her money would hate being in a bank and it's a terrible idea (which is the start of her talking about it like it's a person/entity which follows to the very end of the episode), Moominpappa reassures her by saying banks are so nice these days and Jane looks up asking "They are...?", Moominpappa continues by describing how they have "Flowers and shiny little piggy banks and paintings on the wall!" and Jane lifts herself up asking "Is that really true...?", then Moominpappa tells everyone they should go home and fix a welcoming party for Aunt Jane, the scene ends with a shot of a sad Aunt Jane looking around everyone, possibly confused or even sorry.

We cut to the dinner party when Mamma is putting the cake on the table saying it's her grandma's best recipe (I have to note that Aunt Jane's face here is just... So sad and guilty-looking), Moominpappa gets up and says to drink a toast to the only millionaire in their small circle and how he hopes she'll live a long and happy life. Everyone drinks except for Jane who simply looks around and then looks down at her glass to sigh, Moominmamma asks what's wrong and Jane says "Never in my life have I and my money felt ourselves so welcomed before, I'm so happy I could cry" (jeez woman that is actually sad to hear considering just earlier that day 3 complete strangers went to her asking for money and her nephew literally tried to hide from her before she even arrived, that must've been one heck of a welcoming party) and then she genuinely starts crying saying "And once you start crying- you just wanna go on and on-" and proceeds to sob a bit and says "Oh dear- oh deAr- Moominmamma-" and looks up "Moominpappa-?" Moominpappa answers and she says "I'll put some of my gold in a bag, but you must look after the rest when I'm too old!", Moominpappa hesitates and then Jane snaps into anger mode by asking "Why not?" and slamming her fists against the table, Moominpappa sheepishly describes how they'll take care of it and Jane says it's not what she had in mind though it does sound nice and sufficient, but then she says how the money will miss her. She decides then and there that she'll leave the suitcase of gold to Moominpappa so they can "get sorta used to eachother" and use it as they please, even complimenting the flying ship and botanical research funding as rather splendid. Everyone is happy except Sniff who laments he should've gotten a better idea than flowers, and the episode ends with Jane smiling and a pan out of the house as the narrator closes off the episode.

Alright so already we have quite alot to unpack here and it's all gonna get a bit rambly and jumbled if I don't segment it into specific parts so let's do that. We're gonna put allllll of that baggage into 5 parts

1. Moominpappa and the lack of a family

2. Money is not a good partner

3. A woman millionaire

4. A bitter, lonely maiden

5. Conclusion

1. Moominpappa and the lack of a family

It's been stated twice that Moominpappa is Aunt Jane's only relative, and it's said that they relate through Moominpappa's father.

(Side note: We'll be going by the 90s cartoon canon because Aunt Jane is a moomin comic strip character and in the comic strip Moominpappa wasn't left at an orphanage I don't think, so it's logical to assume they just met eachother because they're family. But we're talking about the 90s canon where Moominpappa WAS left at an orphanage like in Moominpappa's Memoirs/Exploits of Moominpappa)

It's really unclear on the backstory of their relationship. It's unclear how these two met, it's unclear when they've met, and it's unclear how they knew they were related. Moominpappa clearly met her atleast without anyone in his current family (esp. Moominmamma) and hasn't talked about her ever since (given how literally nobody INCLUDING MOOMINMAMMA knew who she was) which to me signifies that their encounter was both somewhat isolated and unpleasant given how he describes her as bossy and not letting people have a moment of peace (which only brings images of some kind of business setting when they met in my mind, and knowing how Moomin stories operate Moominpappa probably found himself as one of her employees somehow). Whatever happened between them has certainly put a sour taste in eachother's mouths, making Moominpappa believe Aunt Jane to be unpleasant enough to avoid at all cost (he probably also witnessed the horrors of wealth which is why he's scared of her money) and Jane believing Moominpappa to be incompetent, worthless and idiotic.

Pulling back from whatever encounter they had... Was Aunt Jane aware of her nephew's existence before then? We don't know the circumstances which lead to Moominpappa's parents leaving him at an orphanage in a paper grocery bag (if the person/people who left him ever WERE his parents), and since him and Aunt Jane are the last members of their family, it's easy assume something tragic most likely happened to the parents. And not only that, the rest of Jane's family would've been gone aswell, leaving Jane as the sole heir and possibly not knowing about her orphaned nephew. Can you imagine being in such a position? Your whole family is gone for whatever reason, you're the only one left to your knowledge, and you have all the money you could ever want in the early 20th century. You are responsible for millions of [money unit] in gold coins. Jane is responsible of that kind of money. And what is that to her?

2. Money is not a good partner

Aunt Jane's relationship with money is extremely weird but clearly somewhat toxic in a sense. We know she has it in the millions and she's not interested in making more of it (though we do have to ask if she runs a business or if all of it is inheritance and nothing more, does she turn in a profit? What business does she work in? How big is her paycheck? Does she work with employees? Why is it all in gold coins? Where does she even live? Nobody knows! It's all vague and unspecified and there really is no point in speculating something like this because there's literally no evidence to speculate about)

Anyway, money is 3 things to her: it's something people use to get what they want, it's a burden and it's something that needs to be taken great care of. It's both a commodity and a child to her, she doesn't particularly "like" having it yet she thinks it's in need of care by someone she knows she could trust, it's a pet she doesn't want since it attracts so many people who want to pet it. By the end of the episode she treats her money like it has feelings, it "hates being in a bank" (presumably because it's "uncomfortable" since Aunt Jane is swayed as Moominpappa describes how nice they are), it "has never felt so welcomed", it "will miss [Jane]" and it "needs to get used to Moominpappa", the thing is she hasn't treated it like an entity with feelings until her breakdown near the end of the episode. Moominpappa's "ungratefulness" broke her so much that she resorted to characterizing her money, and it's unclear if she ever has done this before in her life. It's odd to me, but her life does revolve around the thing, for all we know she's gone for extended periods of time talking to her money when she feels particularly unsafe/alone, but I digress.

Aunt Jane has presumably spent alot of her life taking care of her money and fears growing too old to do so anymore, so she turns to the only person she believes she could trust to continue that legacy. She has enough wealth to do whatever her heart desires, And what is her social reward for having such wealth to look after?

3. A woman millionaire

Misogyny exists. Yes, even in the moominverse, it sucks but it's true even if it isn't explicit sexism. Jane is presumably single, she had someone by the name of Fredrick who she was "frivolous" with but clearly that didn't work out as implied with the tone of her voice when she drops that information, Jane is alone in her wealth and that leaves her open to many people who believe they can get themselves some cash for whatever venture they want to pursue. It has happened plenty of times before in her life and it has happened within the episode when 3 males come up to her asking for funds, of course they didn't seem to care that she is a woman, not a word of it was even mentioned, but it's an issue that may be less present if she wasn't. Nobody is intimidated by her aside from Moominpappa who has met her, Snork and Sniff think they can weasel a family inheritance if they just do enough logical leaps, Mr. Hemulen just assumes she'd be interested from his botany credentials alone, and none of them really listen to her, they just talk over eachother trying to convince her to give them money until she bursts out yelling at them to shut up.

And she has to have some traditional feminity instilled in her, given the way she stands when Sniff knocks and gets in her room, how she arrived to Moomin Valley under a pink shade with curtains, having someone else carry her suitcase for her, being bothered at how small Little My is, her whole outfit among other small things, she seems to have been raised on traditional values, and those values, well, they don't lend well to someone of her status. She can be bossy and terrifying (and surprisingly powerful) but she's not respected by anyone that we know of, nobody's explicitly treated her kindly besides Moominmamma and maybe everyone at the welcome party if you count that, everyone only cares about her because of her money. Moominpappa is scared of her money and every other male only cares to get it from her for their own gain, she just can't win as a millionairess because any care directed towards her is actually care directed towards her money. And what does that treatment leave her as?

4. A bitter, lonely maiden

Jane is very, very alone. Nobody likes her as a person and the fact nobody likes her as a person only makes her more bitter and unlikable, it's a feedback loop. She doesn't seem to have anyone, and I mean, literally ANYONE. We have her rower but he's just a random guy she pays for all we know, she just sits there and stares blankly at the pink curtains until the guy rings the bell and she gets out, she just has no personal connection with anyone even by the end of the episode. Speaking of the end of the episode; she literally cries because she hasn't felt so welcomed by anyone IN HER LIFE (side note: I know I'm not supposed to bring up the comics but she actually cries when Moominpappa uses the word fond on her and it makes me so upset because she's treated even worse there too)

She's angry and alone because people use her for her money and don't care about her, everybody cares only about her money including herself, the only times she'd pay mind to her own self as a person is when she's flabbergasted at Moominpappa "BEING AFRAID OF HIS OWN AUNT!?" or when she feels disrespected by My teasing her about how she used to be frivolous with someone, Little My doesn't really care about her, she just takes her to Moominpappa to view the chaos that would ensue at such a meeting of two worlds. Moominpappa says she doesn't let people have a moment of peace yet it looks like she doesn't have a moment's peace herself, there's literally one moment and it's the one second she sits on her bed before Sniff knocks on the door.

Aunt Jane is both pitiful and somewhat sympathetic, she's an antagonist who's clearly not a good person but she has her own very understandable reasons as to why she's the way that she is. And what do we take from this?

5. Conclusion

I don't know if you know this but uhm, capitalism is bad, folks. It really just brings out the worst in people wether it's the scummy ways they gain money or the problems money causes for your mental health, and in Jane's case it's the latter. It's unclear how she got the money to begin with, I assume it's inherited but I could be wrong obviously, though I don't think that question could truly be answered. Aunt Jane is insistent on keeping her wealth and only giving her wealth away to her own family even if it's the root of her problems, but also Snork and Mr. Hemulen only ask for her money so they can continue with their hopes and dreams, Sniff is well, Sniff, but I'm pretty sure he's traumatized into believing he's only worth the wealth he has so that's another capitalistic problem.

Moominpappa is happy the way he is without the money, the Moomin family is decidedly non-capitalistic and Moominpappa knows nothing about how it works, so he chooses to simply not have it. They simply don't need it with the way things are.

And I suppose that was the appeal of the Moomins franchise that got people hooked into the fantasy of living there, it's pure freedom from an oppressive system that doesn't even give people what they're worth, it's being able to be yourself with a small, loving and accepting community.

But Aunt Jane never had that, which makes her feel out of place in this valley more than other outsider characters do in the show. And like the weirdly smooth and good animation that was clearly outsourced to a different studio for this one specific episode, being rich looks nice, but the cutthroat system of how it's made probably doesn't make it worth it.

#moomins #moominvalley #aunt jane #character analysis #character essay #long post #the moomins #tanoshii muumin ikka #screenshots #this is literally 16 words away from being 5 thousand words #what's a life and where do I get one? /j

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lumini-317 · 3 years

Text

Hello!

This will be my official “introductory” post!

My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).

This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.

I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.

I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.

I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.

I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!

I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.

I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.

I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.

I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.

I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!

I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.

The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.

One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.

I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.

Any-who.

If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.

I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.

Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.

You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.

Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.

But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...

Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!

I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!

Thank you for reading (:

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graaythekwami · 3 years

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YES, yes, yes 👏. Make. That. Fic. (Just imagine! Peacocks flying after everyone to amokitze them hehe.)

They had him. Hawk Moth was cornered on the Eiffel Tower, the five heroes pressing in close. Scarlet Moth was no more, his army of akumas were no more. Ladybug felt her heart hammering, knowing that this could finally be over. They could claim his Miraculous, free Nooroo, and free Paris. They knew they had the upper hand, they could see the fear in Hawk Moth's eyes.

Then she heard the sound.

Not quite a screech, but not a honk either. But still the cry repeated, through the silent city, gradually growing louder. Hawk Moth's eyes flickered to above them, going wide as a shadow fell over them.

The large blue blur dove down in front of them, large wings whistling through the air, and a flowing tail of feathers trailing behind the avian. The creature rushed towards Hawk Moth's abandoned cane, merging with it with a flash of blue.

The heroes didn't have time to question what had just happened, as a giant purple bug was materializing behind Hawk Moth.

-------

There hadn't even been a fight, the giant insect having blown them away, and right as Ladybug came in to strike it had vanished, alongside Hawk Moth.

What hadn't vanished, however, was the bird that had reappeared.

"A peacock?!" Queen Bee cried, watching the bird as it sat upon the remains of Hawk Moth's cane.

"Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah!" The peacock shrieked, raising his head up high.

"The second Miraculous that was lost..." Ladybug muttered.

"Was a Peacock!" Chat Noir cried, eyes widening in realization.

Rena Rouge glanced between them, then at the bird. "A Peacock Miraculous...? But that still doesn’t explain where the bird came from?"

"Well Hawk-dude does send out butterflies," Carapace said.

"And Ladybug has her Miraculous Ladybugs," Queen Bee snapped.

"Yeah, but those are tiny!" Chat protested, pointing to the peacock, who was now preening himself. "What do we do with this guy?"

"Um... Maybe my cure will send him back to wherever he came from?" Ladybug muttered, throwing her Lucky Charm up into the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

A wave of pink light flared out from the Charm, which immediately swept across the tower and the city, pink ladybugs humming within. As it surged out their eyes returned towards the peacock, waiting to see what would happen as the cure faded.

Hawk Moth's cane was gone, but the Peacock was still there, preening his feathers.

In the end Queen Bee volunteered to bring him home.

-------

The Peacock's holder first attack turned out to not be their last, and more peacocks were sent out to create what soon became known as sentimonsters, fighting alongside Hawk Moth's akumas.

It honestly didn't take long for Paris to come to fear the noise that could be heard above the honking of traffic and the chatter of talking:

"Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah!"

Immediately the Paris crowd scrambled to escape the shape descending from above. The large blue bird wasn’t the most graceful of flyers, his large tail trailing out behind him, but he wasn’t slow either. He swooped after the fleeing crowd, wings flapping wildly as he tried to descend down onto them.

Most civilians managed to flee into nearby stores and buildings, and the ones who hadn’t were bolting down the streets. The peacock stood there on the sidewalk, before sprinting after the nearest fleeing person with startling speed, crying out.

"Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah!"

He opened his wings, diving at the man’s shoes, vanishing with a flash of light, allowing another sentimonster to appear.

-------

“You have to purify it, My Lady!”

“Peacocks don’t fit into my yoyo!”

“Hurry, it’s getting away!”

-------

People started to carry umbrellas with them to use to ward off peacocks.

The items that the peacock started to hide in was now mostly umbrellas.

-------

“M. Agreste! M. Agreste!” A reporter cried as Adrien and Gabriel exited a limo. He glowered at the man in annoyance, but the reporter didn’t back down. “Recently you’ve volunteered to take the peacocks that create sentimonsters into your garden, why?”

“Because they needed somewhere to go,” Gabriel said stiffly. “And rescue centers were getting overwhelmed with the numbers that were showing up. I have the money and resources to care for these birds, and my wife was always fond of peacocks. I am simply doing what she would want me to do. Just like we don’t blame the akumatized villains for their actions, these birds don’t deserve to take blame either.”

“That’s so noble of you, M. Agreste!” Someone else cried.

“I have more important things to do,” Gabriel said stiffly, laying a hand on Adrien’s shoulder to guide him away. “Let’s go, son.”

“Yes, Father,” Adrien said softly.

“You heard it here first, folks! Gabriel Agreste says rescue animals, and don’t point blame! What honorable actions.”

“More like the peacocks were just getting expensive to smuggle in without anyone knowing,” Gabriel muttered under his breath, and his son looked up at him in pure confusion.

-------

“Do we have to do this?” Plagg muttered with a yawn as they walked out through the night. “We could be sleeping, or eating cheese. These birds are stupid.”

“You heard what Father said,” Adrien muttered, camped out in the Agreste Gardens, near the roost that had been built for all the rescued peacocks. All of them were peacocks, no peahens, all of the bright blue male birds fast asleep.

Adrien didn’t know what his father planned on doing when spring came when they needed to separate all of the peacocks, but right now he was more worried about what his father might else be planning.

“You get to catch one this time,” a voice muttered, and Adrien stiffened up, retreating further into his hiding place. “I got all scratched up last time.”

“I’d rather not, sir.”

“It’s for your Miraculous!”

“A Miraculous that’s taking my life force.”

“...Fine. I’ll catch one...”

Adrien held his breath, listening to the sounds of his father and Nathalie. Plagg had seen disinterested until the word ‘Miraculous’ had been said, and suddenly the kwami was on alert, staring out at the two figures moving closer to the peacocks.

“Maybe this would be easier if we kept them in the lairs like the butterflies...” Nathalie muttered.

“The birds would eat my akumas!” Gabriel protested. “And if not them then the caterpillars or chrysalis. Annoying little birds, aren’t they... will that one due for an amok? It’s pretty small.”

“Whatever one you want to grab, sir,” Nathalie said, sounding exhausted.

“Psst, kid,” Plagg whispered in Adrien’s ear, who was stiff as stone. “We need to go find Ladybug, now.”

Adrien didn’t trust himself to speak, instead giving a sharp nod. He waited until his father disturbed the peacocks in his attempt to catch one, the sound of wings flapping filling the night, and used the chance to retreat. There was no point in waiting until morning, not with the information they had now.

-------

At the crack of dawn Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur found themselves in handcuffs as they were lead from the mansion, the sound of the ‘rescued’ peacocks singing in the morning sun.

"Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah! Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah! Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah!"

“Are you okay, Chaton?” Ladybug asked softly, laying a hand on her partner’s shoulder.

He leaned into her touch just like an actual cat. “I will be in time, Princess.”

“Anything I can do now?” She asked. “I told the police that I moved Adrien somewhere safe after you told us what you found, so no one will be excepting you for sometime.”

“Hold me?” He asked quietly, and immediately he found himself wrapped in her embrace, and he let out a low purr. “I love you, M’lady.”

“I love you too, silly kitty,” she whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah! Rrrhhhahhh! Rrrhah!"

Ladybug glowered up towards the peacock enclosure, the birds calling out together. Chat Noir let out a small laugh, wrapping his arms around her. “I guess another home will have to be found for them.”

“Do you think Chloe would take a few dozen more peacocks?”

#peacock holders send out peacocks instead of feathers au #peacock miraculous #my fics #anon ask #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #marinette dupain cheng #hawk moth defeat #LadyNoir #My fic

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

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Werewolf AU where an omega from another pack is trying to tempt Tony into mating to the point where the rival keeps warning Peter away from Tony. Peter backs off thinking Tony wants this to strengthen pack alliances, but Tony instead lays claim to Peter.

This is a fantastic idea and it was really fun to write so I hope it’s fun to read too!

Read it on AO3 here! It’s actually sfw so no TWs this time :>

——————————————————————

Peter has been seeing him around a lot lately, and he’s not sure what to think of it.

No one has ever tried to infiltrate their pack in any way before, so it feels odd to suddenly have a member from a different pack around all the time. Or, members, plural, because where James Barnes goes, others of his pack seem to follow.

But it’s not the others that Peter had a problem with. He’s actually come to sort of admire one of their Alphas, Natasha. She’s very intimidating, yes, but in a weirdly maternal kind of way. He doesn’t know what it is about her but she makes him feel both incredibly nervous and also infinitely safe at the same time.

Anyway, so that’s not what bothers him. What bothers him is that Barnes seems to be around with one objective and one objective only, and that is to secure some kind of agreement with their pack leader, Tony. And he’s trying to do it in a way that has Peter on edge.

Ever since the foreign pack arrived, Barnes has been parading around like he wants Tony to notice him, and Tony, being the unbonded but undeniably handsome and charismatic and wonderfully-smelling Alpha that he is, has noticed. It’s unavoidable, because Barnes is really trying, and even though Peter is an Omega himself and only finds Alpha scents appealing, he can’t deny that there is something about the other Omega’s scent that he sees appeals to Tony.

He hates it.

He’s spent far too much time gradually getting Tony to like him to be totally fine with watching another Omega try and win over a man he’s already had his eyes on for ages. Ever since he first presented, really.

It started out as something pretty mild, with Barnes coming over seemingly to help others of his pack negotiate borders, considering their territories are aligned. Peter was nearby, keeping another pack member’s pup busy, and could glance over to see if everything was going okay every now and then. Back then, when those meetings happened every now and again, it seemed like nothing was going on. Slowly but surely, however, things started to change.

To the point where it is very clear to Peter what Barnes is trying to do. He’s not only trying to steal Tony away from him (because surely he knows, he must have noticed the way that Peter acts around Tony, must have smelled the pheromones he pours out every time the older Alpha comes near him), but he’s also doing it with a ‘good cause’.

Peter isn’t stupid, and he isn’t blind. He knows that if their packs unite with a bond between two members, their territories will merge. It would be highly beneficial for both packs, of course, because more territory means more room to run and explore and enjoy and hunt in during full moons. The Stark pack’s territory isn’t small by any means, but it could be bigger. It would be nice if it were bigger.

It’s clear that that is what’s happening, and Peter isn’t sure what to think of it. Most of all because Tony seems to be responding to it pretty positively, at least from where Peter is standing. He hasn’t rejected Barnes yet, hasn’t shown him that he is not interested in him. Hell, he’s seen him lean into the Omega before when they were standing close, likely to smell him.

It gets Peter’s blood boiling in a way nothing ever has before.

But there is nothing he can do about it.

He tries to amp up his own attempts, tries to show Tony what he could also have if he would just…let go of the thought of expanding their territory. But any attempt he makes at getting closer to Tony feels like it only pushes him farther and farther away from him.

Then again, he’s not the only one driving a wedge between them. It’s Barnes. Of course it’s Barnes. Peter doesn’t think he does it with malicious intent, just for the sake of his pack. He can respect that, as someone who would go certain lengths to protect and nurture his own pack, too, but it stings. It stings that when both he and Barnes are in the room, Tony now only seems to have eyes for the older Omega.

It’s only natural, Peter thinks. Or rather, tries to convince himself. Tony is the oldest Alpha, the wisest, the most experienced. Of course he would go for someone like Barnes, who isn’t the youngest anymore, but neither is he particularly old. He’s in the prime of his life, whereas Peter still has so much learning to do, so many miles to make before he can call himself a real experienced Omega.

Of course experience would seek out experience. But it still hurts, when Peter sees Tony smile at Barnes like that. Sees the way he reacts to him. He wishes that could be him.

For the longest time, Peter and Barnes don’t communicate much at all. They have spoken a few words to each other in passing, exchanged some pleasantries, but it doesn’t go any further than that. Peter was satisfied with that, but Barnes comes up to him one day as Peter is approaching a meeting between the two packs, meaning to join them, and addresses him directly.

“I don’t think you should be here today,” Barnes tells Peter directly, and Peter frowns. He steps aside, trying to get around him, but Barnes steps with him, effectively blocking his path.

“What do you mean? I just want to attend the meeting,” Peter argues.

Barnes shakes his head in warning, and he’s got a look in his eyes that Peter is not sure how to decipher. It feels like it’s trying to tell him something, like Barnes is trying to tell him something, something hidden within the words he’s just said. Why shouldn’t he be here?

“It’s for your own good, Parker,” Barnes says, and while it lacks malice, Peter can’t help but think that the intentions behind it aren’t a hundred percent…pure. “I don’t think you want to be there today.”

The realization dawns on Peter that maybe it’s time for them to discuss a union. Maybe Barnes has noticed Peter’s affections, and is trying to protect him from getting himself hurt. Not that it helps.

They stand there for a few moments, until Barnes seems satisfied that Peter won’t make another attempt at getting past him, and then the older Omega turns and walks down the rest of the path toward where the meeting has been set up. Peter sees Tony sitting at the head of the table, talking to others already seated, and he watches as Barnes enters, and how he brushes a hand over Tony’s shoulders in passing, and how Tony looks up at him and flashes a smile.

Peter turns and walks away, and fails to see how Tony’s head turns expectantly, nor does he see how his expression falls when he notices Peter walking away.

Peter starts avoiding Tony following Barnes’ warning. It’s like he knows, deep down, that whatever battle had been going on, he’s lost it, and there is no way to regain equal ground once more. Barnes is far above him. Peter scolds himself for ever thinking that he stood a chance against him in the first place.

He tells himself that it will be good for both of their packs. If they can join territories then that can be so very beneficial for everyone involved, and who is Peter to stand in the way of that, just because he believes he’s in love?

Avoiding your pack leader isn’t the easiest thing to do, but Peter finds a lot of excuses to get out of situations that would bring him near the other. He even starts hanging out with some of the younger Omegas from the other pack, those that sometimes travel with the rest when they come into town to visit. He gets along well with a boy named Harley, who is only a little bit older than he is, but they soon discover they have the same interests and it gets Peter through days where he has to see Barnes hang around Tony better than anything else can.

Harley seems…interested, in him. In a capacity that feels like it must be something more than just friendship. They’re compatible, Peter has to admit. And Harley’s pretty cute.

But Peter is still stuck on Tony. For the time being, at least. And for as long as there isn’t an announcement of a union, Peter doesn’t want to promise himself to anyone just yet. As if he’s still holding on to some little shrivel of hope. It’s ridiculous, and he knows it – but it’s not as if he can help himself.

Especially not when he hears through the grapevine that Tony had been looking for him. He’s been avoiding him for about a week now, and he had never thought that Tony would ever really miss him enough to come looking for him. They used to spend a lot of time together and seemed quite good friends, if you could call it that, sure. But Peter is still surprised when he hears about it.

Since he isn’t necessarily hiding from Tony, just making sure he doesn’t go anywhere he knows Tony will be, the Alpha inevitably finds him.

Harley is in town when he does, and they’re reading from the same book with Peter tucked under the young Alpha’s arm, although Peter is quick to wriggle out of his hold when he sees Tony. He straightens, something that shouldn’t surprise Harley too much. He knows how to greet his own pack leader, too.

“Alpha,” Peter says politely, and twists around to Harley to suggest that maybe they should go and continue reading somewhere else.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Tony puts a hand up to stop the two from getting up from their comfortable spot among pillows, something that Harley had said resembled a very nice nest. Peter didn’t nest, not often anyway and certainly not nowadays, but the implication of it was nice.

Tony holds a hand out to Peter in offering, palm up. “Walk with me?”

Cautious but curious, Peter takes the hand and lets Tony pull him to his feet. He excuses himself to Harley, says he’ll be right back, and lets Tony lead him away from their spot to walk down a long, winding path that circles their land and offers privacy. Quite a bit of it, too.

Peter is surprised that he has to be the one to take his hand out of Tony’s, since the Alpha is still holding onto it while they’re walking in silence. Peter tucks his hands under his arms, hiding his fingers from the evening chill as it begins to settle.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Tony confesses after a long few moments. He sounds tired. Peter immediately worries, and hates that he does.

“About what?” he asks, even though he doesn’t want to know. This has to be about Barnes. He’s convinced that Tony is about to tell him they are going to bond, and explain what that means. After all, Peter hasn’t been to any of their pack meetings for a couple of days. He must have missed the announcement.

“Actually,” Tony corrects himself, “I wanted to know your opinion on something. I’ve been…prepositioned.”

And there it is. Peter takes a deep breath and lets it out as slowly as he can. The conversation has barely even really started and he already wants the ground to swallow him up so that he can effectively disappear. He doesn’t want to hear it, whatever Tony has to say about it. And yet, he hums politely, inquiring wordlessly so as to make Tony continue.

“I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. A member of our neighboring pack has suggested an alliance through an arranged bond. It would be…” Tony sighs, “Good. It would be good, for our pack. And I see you’re getting along with Harley.”

Tony looks over his shoulder as if he’s expecting Harley to be following them or something, but there is no one around. Peter makes another non-committal sound and shrugs. Sure, they’ve been getting along. He likes Harley. He really does. Does he see him as his mate? Not really. But you don’t have to be head over heels for someone to be able to live a long and happy life together.

It’s quiet between them for a few moments, until Tony speaks again. Peter doesn’t want to say anything for fear of saying something that he knows he’s going to regret, so he’s leaving the talking up to the Alpha.

“I wanted to ask your opinion. On the union. Do you think it’s a good idea? I’ve always trusted your intuition.”

Unfortunately, this time around, Peter is forced to speak. He already hates what he’s about to say before it even leaves his mouth. But he knows that Tony is just looking for affirmation. He just wants other people to tell him he’s making the right decision. Peter doesn’t think about why he would do such a thing, he just knows that’s what he’s doing.

“I’m sure Barnes will make a great Omega,” Peter says quietly, avoiding Tony’s gaze. He slows to a stop and looks up at Tony, “I’d like to get back to reading now. Harley and I want to finish the chapter before sundown.”

Tony nods, but seems troubled, like what Peter told him isn’t what he wanted to hear. Nevertheless, Peter bids him goodnight, and returns to where they came from, where Harley is still waiting for him. At least Harley’s only ever had eyes for him. Or so he thinks.

Another few days later, Peter is barely awake from his full moon shift the night before, still lazing about in his bed around noon, when someone practically bursts into his tent.

“It’s Tony,” Rhodey says before Peter can even blink the sleep out of his eyes properly, “C’mon, kiddo, get out of bed. He needs you. Hurry up.”

“Wha—” A yawn cuts off Peter’s question, and his pants hit him in the face the very next moment. Peter pulls the article of clothing away just in time to see Rhodey already exiting his sleeping quarters, but not before he throws another few words over his shoulder that has Peter out of bed instantly.

“You better move, Peter. He just went into rut.”

He can smell it immediately when he exits his house, and even if he hadn’t been able to, he could have followed the sound of growling and snarling and snapping further toward the town’s square. Peter hurries there, not even questioning why Tony would be needing him, especially when he’s like this. He must be in a bad way. And it shows, when Peter approaches the scene.

Even before he reaches the epicenter of the chaos, Omegas are being guided away left and right, Betas helping them home, to safety, while the pack’s Alphas are gathered around an obviously rut-crazed Tony.

Off to the right, a small group from the neighboring pack surrounds Barnes, tending to his split lip and bleeding nose, while on the left more Betas fend themselves over injured Alphas.

Peter pauses, clearly in shock. It’s never been this bad. He’s seen Tony go through rut before, has seen him fight his way through several of their strongest Alphas before the craze ends and he finally calms down, or they manage to pin and subdue him.

Now, it doesn’t seem like subduing him is even an option.

Another Alpha wails following the loud, sickening sound of a bone snapping, and Peter’s heart surges. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s moving forward, toward the mess of Alphas, focused only on pouring out the most calming pheromones he can muster at the moment.

“Stop!” He calls, but his first cry doesn’t reach over the sound of growling, “I said stop!”

Suddenly, an eerie quiet falls over them. It even startles Peter. Normally, only an Alpha can command a pack like that, get them to fall silent like that, listen, and obey. Peter needs only a moment to recover, knowing that time is of the essence, and he continues forward. The silence feels very temporary, and he just wants to get to Tony.

Which he quickly does.

It stinks of aggressiveness and anxious nerves that the Alphas surrounding him are putting into the air, but Tony doesn’t smell like that. Tony smells needy, and confused, and helpless. Peter’s body responds with more calming pheromones, and while he cautiously approaches the wide-eyed pack Alpha, he can see the recognition in his eyes, and see his shoulders relax, if only just a touch.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s just a rut,” Peter says calmly, hands up in surrender so that he can communicate through body language that he means no harm.

Tony’s chest is heaving, and his heart beats fast as Peter puts a gentle hand on his chest. He can feel it thrumming beneath his fingertips.

Peter has no time to ask himself why Tony would react to him so calmly, if he even delivered his soon-to-be mate a black eye. He’s just grateful that Tony seems to be listening. If he’s listening, then there is an opportunity for Peter to get him away from everyone else, and to get him to calm down. But he has to take the chance. And he has to face the consequences.

“Shh. There you go. Just relax. I’m here now,” Peter whispers, “Let me take care of you.”

Slowly, when Peter gives them a look, the Alphas still holding onto Tony let go and back away, leaving Tony to stare at Peter. And Peter, he moves in, wrapping his arms around Tony’s stiff body until he feels him relax into the embrace, and possessively wrap his arms around the Omega in return and tuck his nose into the crook of his neck.

“That’s it. That’s better. Don’t think about all those other Alphas and Omegas. It’s just you and me.”

“P-Peter,” Tony manages, and tightens his hold on the younger Omega.

“That’s right. It’s Peter. Let’s get out of here.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice, evidently, as he quickly scoops Peter up bridal style and carries him away. Peter keeps his arms wrapped around the Alpha’s neck, making sure that he doesn’t see or smell anyone else, just him. And it works.

Tony carries Peter to his bedroom and lays him down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He immediately begins tearing at both their clothes, and while Tony’s eagerness combined with his intoxicating scent thrills Peter to no end, he does realize that if what is about to happen, happens, he might be the cause of the alliance falling through, and that’s the last thing he wants.

He stops Tony with a calm hand on the man’s chest, which immediately gets his attention.

“What about the union?” he breathes urgently.

Tony shakes his head.

“No union is worth losing you over,” he growls lowly, and pulls Peter closer.

The whole town knows of the news before it has even been made official, spreading from mouth to mouth like a wildfire, but it’s the inevitable howl coming from the pack Alpha’s home that really confirms the news.

The union is off.

And Peter Parker is the pack Omega now.

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #starker fanfic #ironspider #abo #omegaverse #werewolf au #aus #omega peter #alpha tony #minor harley/peter #minor bucky/tony #my writing #my fanfic #mutual pining #misunderstandings #Anonymous

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orangedodge · 3 years

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@dannybagpipesarecalling replied to your text post:

I didn't realize those were Destiny's diaries either. If you would be so kind, can you explain how Emma knows? Unfortunately I haven't read enough comics to know this backstory.

I am glad you asked about this, because it gives me an excuse to post about it while hopefully not sounding like a conspiracy blog. I've been slightly obsessed with this idea since Emma first turned up in House of X, so I'm rather excited that “maybe Destiny's Diaries still exist” isn't just my weird crack canon any longer.

Emma was, in short, the last person who can be established to have control over the whereabouts of the diaries. And as one of the top five telepaths in the world, who has expressly defended that secret from the likes of Exodus and Mr. Sinister, she is capable of preventing Professor X from just taking the information from her. So barring new retcons, if Moira has the diaries now, they had to have been obtained directly from Emma.

That's not enough to say that she turned them over to Moira specifically. She could have given them to Charles or Er—okay, no, she wouldn't give them to Charles. There could be a circumstance where she'd trust them to Erik though. But in that contingency, I think there's enough context to support Emma knowing why they'd want them and for who. To be clear though, I would be less confident about making that assertion if Emma hadn't just opened the “Dr. Moira MacTaggert Memorial Public Hospital” expressly to freak out Charles and Erik, and if HoxPox hadn't already linked them by showing Moira to be worried about what Emma was up to.

(This got kind of long so I thought it'd be helpful to say the important part up front before spiraling down the continuity rabbit hole)

The origins and resulting chain of custody for Destiny's Diaries are as follows: One January, decades ago, Destiny began recording visions of the future in a series of diaries. Filling one book per month, she continued writing for thirteen months. This process was described as auto-writing, and Destiny herself did not have a complete memory of what she had written, nor did she understand the meaning of much of what she wrote.

Nonetheless, the July diary contained a recording of the events leading up to the defeat of Apocalypse, and another diary contained information on the life of Hope Summers, so they've been very relevant to the events of the modern era. It's not explicit yet that Krakoa's founding is also in the diaries, but because we know Destiny had at least one separate vision of Krakoa, and because Moira is interested in reading them, it seems fairly likely that whatever Moira, Charles, and Erik have been doing behind the scenes is also in there.

In the decades since Destiny authored them, most of these diaries were lost, except for five that Mystique kept hold of, and a sixth that Irene hid away herself. After Mystique killed 'Moira,' she sent her five diaries to Professor X, hoping that the temptation of using them would consume his life and lead him toward a ruinous fate. Destiny meanwhile had entrusted the sixth diary to Shadowcat (who Destiny met in 1936, while she was time traveling and having an affair with Moira's grandfather don't worry about it), who eventually became so freaked out by something she read in it that she vanished on a mission, let her friends believe her dead for weeks, and had herself deleted from Cerebro, while leaving the diary to Rogue for safekeeping while she was away.

(That last chain of events isn't incredibly important, I just think it becomes kind of lol in light of current canon)

Rogue went on to take that diary and the research that had been done on it to Storm. Storm and Rogue then formed a splinter team of X-Men, to journey the world searching for the lost diaries, believing Professor X could not be trusted. Along the way a seventh book turned up with a treasure hunter named Vargas (don't worry about him), and an eighth was found by Gateway and given to Rogue in a dream. Eventually Storm tried to get Phoenix to collect Professor X's diaries for her, but they discovered that they had already been stolen (Shadowcat did it).

The rest of the diary hunt isn't really important, just that Kitty eventually ended up retrieving the full set, before she rejoined the X-Men, which only happened after Xavier had left Scott and Emma to run the school. This timeline is important for establishing that Xavier has never possessed the full set of diaries himself, and was not involved in collecting the lost books at any point, nor was he present at the time the diaries were brought to the school and fell under Emma's protection. This rules out the possibility that the set of diaries we've previously seen were somehow forged by Xavier.

Xavier would not return to the school until after losing his mutant powers, whereupon he departed for space on an adventure to another galaxy. He was unavailable, therefore, to have undertaken any telepathic shenanigans, so what happens next actually happened, and is not a psychic illusion. While Xavier was gone, Mr. Sinister recruited Exodus and Mystique, and began a campaign of hunting down precognitive psychics, time travelers, and any other sources of information on the future. Scott, Emma, and Kitty meanwhile predicted that they were going to be next, and came up with a bananas plan to keep the books safe.

X-Men volume 2 no. 203 by Mike Carey (Writer), Humberto Ramos (Penciler), Carlos Cuevas (Inker), Studio F’s Edgar Delgado (Colorist), Virtual Calligraphy’s Cory Petit (Letterer), Will Panzo (Assistant Editor), Nick Lowe (Editor), Joe Quesada (Editor in Chief), Dan Buckley (Publisher)

First they hid the diaries somewhere in parts unknown. Emma then altered the minds of “all of us” (everyone who lived at the mansion at that time) to perceive a bunch of decoy books as the real thing. She then erased Kitty's memory, and her own, so that no telepath would be able to extract the information by force, before they gave each other a series of post-hypnotic triggers so they could restore one another's memories if they ever needed the books again. When eventually Exodus attacked the school looking for the books, they restored their memories, and decided to send another team to the hidden location where they'd buried a mystery box. Emma gave this location to Sam and Bobby, who dug up the box, which was never opened, and which was destroyed by Gambit during a firefight with Sinister's forces before anyone could confirm its contents.

This was intended by author Mike Carey to be the end of Destiny's Diaries, a dropped plot from a previous creative run, that was vaguely useful at building up to the Messiah Complex crossover, but was a lot more trouble than it was worth to an author who was writing about the X-Men trying to avert a bad future. But there's a lot of room in the story he wrote for the diaries to have survived after all.

I think it's actually really suspicious that the box was accessible to Bobby and Sam at all. Why not drop it under a mountain? Why not bury it under the ocean? Why not keep it phased in a tree? And it's a big red box with a big red 'X' on it. I know the X-Men love their branding and all, but that's going pretty far.

No one actually opens the box before Gambit blows it up either. It could have contained more decoys, or nothing at all.

And when talking among themselves, Emma and Kitty never actually say that they're sending the X-Men to retrieve the diaries. They say that they know where the diaries are, and then send the X-Men to a place where they've buried something. The intent of the author is clear, but there's room in the dialogue for a later writer to decide that this just was another plan to keep the books hidden.

So for the entire period of time between assembling the complete collection of thirteen diaries, and their seeming destruction, they are never unaccounted for. Only Emma and Kitty knew the full extent of what they did to hide them, and where they were hidden. If fakes were destroyed instead of the real thing, no one would have known.

We could just be in retcon territory, but I don't think so, because it's fine on its own without any direct changes to canon. And really, faking the destruction of the books to cover up their real location makes a lot more sense than believing Emma Frost actually sent Sam to retrieve the incredibly suspicious looking red box that contained the most important object in the world, while half the super villains on the planet were chasing him.

Believing the diaries weren't really destroyed just requires the reader to accept that Emma would lie to the other X-Men, and keep lying to them for years, and that she'd be willing to put Sam and Bobby's lives at risk to protect that lie. Which she was already doing in that story anyway. She was already lying to everyone when she changed everyone's memories. And she—and Scott and Kitty—was already fine with risking everyone's lives when setting up a decoy trap in a school. So that's why I think this works better as a continuation of the existing, known, story of the diaries, and not a direct retcon to what happened.

In conclusion I think Emma knows about Moira because Moira got the diaries from somewhere, and Emma is the person she could have gotten them from. Nothing proves a direct hand-off in, like, a formal standard of proof or anything, but Emma having access to the diaries for so long, and having been wrapped up in this whole weird plot thread—which involves Moira and most of the Quiet Council—is enough to imply the connection in a story sense.

(ETA - For completion’s sake, there is also a weird story I didn’t go into called Chaos War that was published in 2011 where Moira is resurrected and finds a book in the ruins of the Xavier School that may or may not be one of the diaries, and touching it causes her soul to merge with Destiny’s, who then possesses her and guides her through a quest to destroy an evil god. This was an odd story to place in continuity at the time, and has only gotten stranger, given 1. that couldn’t be the real Moira, 2. Destiny is not merged with her soul. If this is in continuity (it’s been suggested that Moira’s golem was the character in this event), and all of the characters are who they say they are, and if the book in question was actually one of the thirteen diaries (and not some other book that Irene also wrote), then it requires Emma to have deliberately left one of the thirteen books behind for “Moira” to find, which if anything only adds to the likelihood that she knows what’s up)

#x-men #comics #marvel #wednesday spoilers #long post

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

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Big Decisions | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey my lovelies! I know, right, another story in the same week as my other one?? What has the universe come to! I had this idea the other night and I kind of just rolled with the punches. I'm not sure how good it will be, I haven't written in a while and I had an idea of where I wanted this to go and, as usual, it wrote itself and ended up somewhere else. I'm not sure how much I like it but regardless here it is. I tried to make it as fluffy as I could because that's what I need right now lol. Anyway's I hope you like it! Sorry in advance for how long it is!! All my love until next time <3

Description: Y/n is from an influential family like, but not as powerful, as the Mikaelson's and her father is running for the governor of Virginia. In order to increase voting in favour of her father both families decide to merge. In order to do so Y/n agrees to marry one of the Mikaelson boys. The only problem is that she loves all three of them and can't possibly choose between them.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None, seriously, don't be afraid of having all three at once, that doesn't need a warning

Word count: 5032

Tags: Fluff (or at least attempted fluff)

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

Your footsteps echo softly down the hallway of the Mikaelson’s mansion. Your heels click the beat of a song you haven’t yet learned the words to into the hardwood. It’s a miracle you can even hear it over the rumble of the party below. A thousand voices reach your ears in a crescendo of “good evening” and “my don’t you look lovely” but it stands as little more than white noise in your mind. Your heartbeat rages with it all, mingling with the greetings of strangers and the song your feet are creating at the same time.

The only thing you can truly think about is last night in the garden. It had been Kol’s idea, actually, to have one last night together. It was a beautiful notion, too, if not one that left four souls aching as though they were only one soul being forced into four different fragmented pieces.

There you sat, four fragmented pieces of one soul, tangled so elegantly that anyone looking in would have to squint to see the separate beings. Your back moulded so perfectly into Elijah’s front that it was as if you were made to never be apart in the first place. Though Klaus’ head fit so perfectly in your lap that it would be madness to think anything but the same. However, both such things ignore the delicate trace of Kol’s lips against your neck and mouth and fingertips in such a way that the night sky hadn’t shone half as bright as the stars he left you seeing. How could you even begin to make a decision.

None of you feel quite right about the arrangement. Your families have been close for a few years now, you having met the Mikaelsons at a founders party in your first year of college. Both of your households are founding families with a lot of influence in many parts of the south-eastern United States. While the Mikaelson’s are renowned, your own family, the Lancaster’s, are less well known. With your father running for governor of Virginia it was decided, quite suddenly, that your two families are to combine in order to gain the needed momentum to win at the polls. You, the only daughter to Mary-Anne and Johnathan Lancaster, are to marry any Mikaelson son of your choosing.

To any other woman in Virginia that offer would be a dream come true. The Mikaelson’s are akin to royalty in the United States. However, every other woman in Virginia hasn’t spent the last two years completely consumed by all three brothers. There are only a handful of moments that you can recall that don’t include even one Mikaelson. Every night you fall asleep wrapped around one of your boys. Each of their scents are permanently ingrained in your memory. How can you choose when no matter who you pick the other two will still be there.

You pace back and forth at the top of the winding staircase, silently dreading the descent. You gather the pilling fabric of your gown into your hands and let the silk cool your fiery skin for a few moments longer. You try to hold on to a few pieces of comfort with it. The way Kol had smelled of honey this morning and the feel of Elijah’s arms around you and the little marks Klaus left that are still fading beneath your bodice. You breathe in each of them before you take the first step.

You don’t want to go down the stairs but the first step only brings you to the second that much faster. You take them one at a time, letting your feet even out before every push forward. At this moment you wish that the stairs would never end. You would rather wind for years as your dress turned to dust around you than face the unrelenting truth that waits at the bottom. You would rather turn to dust than choose.

You come too quickly to the bend in the stairs that will reveal you to the party. The murmurs that were previously dulled are now at their peak, crashing over you with a harsh fury of cheerful nothings. You wish you could immerse yourself in the chatter like any other party however tonight isn’t just another party. It’s the party and families from across the country have gathered in the halls below to hear you make your decision.

With a quick breath in, you bring yourself into the glittering light cast by the chandelier hanging above the sweeping foyer. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust from the dark hallway. When they focus once more the air is sucked from your lungs in a startled gasp that turns every eye in the vicinity towards you. As if a switch has been flicked, every sound in the room dies out until all that is left is the slightest tinkling of the glass above your head and muffled sounds of awe.

You will give them that, the dress Rebekah Mikaelson had picked out for you is stunning. A rose coloured, silk gown that would make any Victorian princess green with envy. It’s strapless in the sense that it has silk that hangs off your shoulders, leaving your skin exposed and dusted with gold. Your hair has been curled and pinned up, allowing for some tendrils to frame your face. Bekah dusted the same gold she used on your shoulders on your eyes, bringing a finishing touch to your look. She truly does work miracles.

Your hand stalls on the railing for a moment, your eyes searching the sea of faces below you. It’s surreal to have all the attention on you. You’re used to being around important people, you yourself are one to most people, but you’ve never felt like you fit in with them. You’re just an ordinary girl after all. An ordinary girl who just happens to have the hearts of three Mikaelson’s in her palm. Now, if you could only spot them amongst the crowd.

As if they can hear their names flowing through your mind, they appear at the base of the steps. You shouldn’t be surprised at how dashing they all look but you’re still left open-mouthed at the sight of them. They're each clad head to toe in all black, the perfect contrast to your dress. The dark to your light and vice versa. They never disappoint.

Your feet begin moving of their own accord to meet them at the bottom of the staircase, the clicking of your heels ricocheting like bullets through the still silent foyer. You can feel their stares like flames on every inch of your exposed skin. The crowd is holding their breath in anticipation of the interaction to come, waiting ready for the moment you make your decision. It feels positively medieval, as if as soon as you choose you will be forced to rip off your clothes and mate for the court to see and deem your bond official. It’s too bad if that’s what they're expecting. They would be in for quite a shock if they saw the distinct markings of not one but three Mikaelson’s already on your skin.

Three mouthwatering scents swirl around you, encouraging you to move faster. Before you clear the last fifteen or so steps, however, the unthinkable happens. You trip. Your heel catches the loose fabric of your dress and rips your feet out from under you, a riptide of events that should have been foreseen. Your eyes slam shut the minute you go into freefall, not wanting to see the mess your body will create when you hit the marble. The fall feels like hours rather than seconds, waiting for an impact that will shatter life as you know it but the end never comes.

“Baby,” it takes you a moment to register the arms around your waist and the pine tree scent enveloping you, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Another pair of hands grip on to your arm, sending waves of familiar warmth and nutmeg rushing through your chest, “my clumsy darling, what was our dear sister thinking when she put you in those heels.”

“She clearly wasn’t or else she would have remembered that she tripped three times just this morning,” you’re pulled easily into a new pair of strong arms, “isn’t that right, love?”

You can’t help but let the smile fall on your lips, your eyes tugging open to meet the ocean ones already looking at you, “you know me too well, Klaus.”

The smile is already on his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “of course love, that’s my job.”

He leans down to place a quick kiss on your forehead before steadying you. You turn to face the remaining brothers, both of whom look ready to pull you once more into their arms. They’re circled around you, blocking the crowd from seeing you until they have had their moment with you. It warms your heart immensely. Up close they look even more ravishing. When you take your time inspecting them, though, you see the circles under their eyes.

Elijah’s are the most prominent, his skin tinged a plum colour that in no way mars the beauty of his face. If anything it adds an ethereal glow. He’s always been the one to worry the most. He is the oldest after all, most of the stress falls on his shoulders. His deliciously sculpted shoulders. It’s his job to hold his family together, tonight is no exception. You waste no time pulling him towards you and wrapping your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his chocolate hair.

“You look like you need a nap, Eli,” you tug softly at the strands between your fingers, “it’ll all be okay.”

You can feel the deep breath he takes, as if the air is going into your lungs instead of his, “I know, baby.”

He squeezes his arms around you a little tighter than usual before releasing you. It takes Kol no time to scoop you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. You grip his back with shaking fingers, admiring the muscles through his jacket as a moment of peace before the storm to come. You don’t want to let him go. You don’t want to leave the little bubble the four of you have created.

“No matter what happens out there tonight, I'm yours darling. Until the sun doesn’t rise in the east, I’m yours,” he places a soft kiss to your throat and tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall.

He pulls back, a small smile on his lips. You look up to the other two one last time, feeling the crowd grow impatient at your hidden actions. You know that tonight isn't about you but you can’t help but let the seconds tick by freely. This could very well be the last moment the four of you share publicly.

Klaus nods his head carefully, squeezing one of his hands into a fist at his side, “until the sun doesn’t set in the west, I am yours, love.”

You pull your lip between your teeth to bite back the trembling, steeling yourself as you turn in finality to Elijah. His chocolate eyes are already on you. The determination in them lights something hot and not at all unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. He takes another deep breath, your eyes drawn to the rise and fall of his chest.

“And every moment after I will be yours, baby, that is my promise.”

When the words leave his lips you revel in the fleeting moment of calm that rushes over you.

The strength in your voice startles you a little bit, “I am yours before, during, and after. That is my promise. Let’s do this.”

The boys stand taller when you say the words, completing a promise you made to each other over a year ago. They part, allowing you to walk into the crowd of statues. No one moves, every eye glued to you once more. You can’t help but feel small under their gaze but you don’t back down, choosing instead to smile and stare back.

“Sweetheart, there you are!”

And just like that all the activity in the room restarts, all the chatter and music and tinkling restored like a fire under the floor. Your mother, Mary-Anne, appears from the crowd in a stunning blue gown. It accentuates her delicate features. She was a southern belle in her youth and it still shows, especially in her accent. You could get lost in the honey that is your mother’s voice.

“Hello, mama,” you fall into her embrace easily, breathing in her lilac lotion, “I’m sorry I took so long, Bekah wanted everything to be perfect.”

Your mother giggles, music to your aching soul, “except the shoes I see.”

You pull away with a blush, meeting her cheerful eyes with mild embarrassment, “oh my, you saw that?”

“Darling, all of Virginia saw it,” she takes your arm, leading you towards the ballroom where guests are steadily flowing to designated tables, “you gave those boys quite a startle. Your father too. He dropped his drink.”

She giggles again as she directs you to a table at the front of the room, elegantly decorated with an array of flowers and candles. There are enough seats to allow for both of your families and a few other important people to enjoy a nice meal. Your stomach tumbles in a way that makes you doubt the amount of food you will be enjoying tonight.

Your mother hands you a glass of champagne which you take gratefully, “will he be here soon?”

“I’m sure he will be,” she smiles gently at you, pushing a fallen curl behind your ear, “how are you feeling, darling? You look a little rattled.”

“It’s a lot to take in, mama. I’m alright,” you take a sip of your champagne to punctuate your words, letting the sweet bubbles cool your throat.

She places her hand on your own, pulling your attention back to her, “you’re allowed to not be. You’re doing a lot for this family, you know. Your father and I appreciate you very much. It can’t be easy.”

“The hard part isn’t getting married,” you meet her kind eyes and almost crumble, “It’s almost too easy to spend a lifetime with any one of them. They each mean the world to me. Mama, how am I supposed to choose?”

She shakes her head gently, her own curls bouncing lightly, “you just have to trust yourself, darling.”

The ballroom fills steadily, flowing conversation and music through the open space. You quickly spot the Mikaelson's, Bekah now in tow, as well as your father, who looks locked in a serious conversation with Elijah and Klaus. He’s nodding along to whatever they’re saying, clearly absorbing whatever notion they’re pushing. Kol, on the other hand however, remains silent, gazing around the space before locking eyes with you. Even from across the floor you can see his shoulders loosen slightly. Bekah tries to say something to him but he just brushes her off before moving towards you. You feel a touch guilty but you'll apologize later. Right now you need him.

You pass your glass back to your mother, accepting another knowing smile before all but running towards Kol. He clears the space quicker than you can, meeting you just in front of the table.

“You know, I don’t recall having told you how breathtaking you look yet this evening,” his words pour over you as he takes the final steps towards you, “and that should be a punishable crime. You look absolutely stunning, darling.”

He laces his arms once more around your waist, drawing you into his chest, “we’re all a little flustered tonight, I think I can pardon you just this once. Besides, I haven’t told you how marvellous you look yet either.”

You whisper the words into his chest, closing your eyes for a brief moment. His touch brings you some clarity. You wish you were curled up watching a movie instead of in a ball gown.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin to meet his warm eyes, “I meant what I said earlier, no matter who you choose I’m not going anywhere. None of us are.”

“I don’t think I can do it, Kol,” you look towards your father sitting next to your mother, both laughing with another couple, “I can’t hurt any of you.”

“Love,” you're pulled from Kol’s grasp and into a different but no less familiar hold, “we know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what any of us want. You need to trust us. Follow your instincts. Now come on, we’ll miss dinner.”

Klaus leads you to the table and a plate filled with what would normally be your favourite foods. Elijah is already waiting with your chair pulled out, sitting you between your mother and father.

He leans down before you can sit, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks, “just relax, baby. I love you.”

He presses a kiss to your ear before tucking you in and taking his own seat across from you. The ballroom soon fills with the sharp sounds of forks and knives scraping against porcelain and even more happy chatter than before. Your own table becomes a flurry of excited words and talk of the upcoming elections and wedding ideas. You’re bombed with many sneaky attempts to hear your decision early but you brush every one of them off, nervously taking bites of food every few minutes.

“So, honey,” your father turns to you with a grin, lowering his voice and drawing you into your own little bubble, “how’s my star doing?”

You focus on his nose, not wanting to meet his eyes quite yet, “I’m great, dad. This dinner is wonderful.”

He chuckles quietly and you can feel his gaze trying to pull your focus to him, “you would know, right, with all the food you've eaten?’

He isn’t wrong, you’ve barely cleared half your plate, “I’m not hungry is all.”

“You? Not hungry? Now I know something is really wrong here,” his hand grasps yours lightly, “look at me, what’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

You don’t mean to sigh but it happens anyway, “It’s just a lot to digest. It’s a really big decision.”

“You’re right it is, honey,” he squeezes your hand gently, “but I know you’ve got what it takes. You can’t disappoint me. Never have and you never will.” He looks in front of you, “besides, I think those boys know what they're doing. I trust them to help you figure this out.”

Like your mother, he always seems to know what to say. You have a strong family, one that holds each other up in the hardest of choices. You look across the table to meet the eyes of three men already looking at you. They each smile at you in their own way. Elijah’s is with his eyes, the rest of his face remaining stone. Klaus smirks at you, the blue of his eyes sparkling mischievously. Kol tilts his head to the side, a soft grin on his lips.

Soon the music becomes louder and guests start pouring onto the dance floor, swaying to an elegant piece made up of violins and flutes. Your own table clears with the rest, leaving the four of you alone. Elijah, as per usual, is the first one out of his seat.

“Would you do me the immense honour of sharing this dance?”

The formality in his words brings you a bubbling sense of warmth and you, of course, rise to meet his outstretched hand. He leads you to the middle of the floor, twirling you under another chandelier before pulling you tight against his chest. You’re once again wrapped in his forest scent and you lay your head against him, trusting him to keep you from falling. The music swirls around you, drowning out the noise of the others around you. They're no doubt speculating that you’ve made your decision but, in reality, this is just yours and Elijah’s thing: dancing.

He moves you beautifully across the floor, pulling you slightly to where it feels like you’re gliding on ice. The rest of the couples move back, allowing for the two of you to take as much space as you need. You feel like you dance for an eternity, giggling as he spins you endlessly across the polished wood floor. He eventually lifts you, turning you in what you assume is a final twirl, only to pass you into another pair of ocean breeze arms.

Klaus takes over effortlessly, falling into the same pattern that Elijah had created, “sorry to cut in, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You move the hand that lays on his shoulder and wrap it around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and drawing as close to him as you can. He takes his time dancing with you the same as his brother had. By now all the other dancers have stopped and cleared completely off the floor. Each eye is trained on the pair of you like lasers to a target. You will yourself to remain completely focused on Klaus’ movements.

It takes both an eternity and mere seconds for you to land in Kol’s arms, who twirls you one last time, perfectly stopping with the music. When the last violin dies out, a clock chimes through the room. Your shoulders tense on their own, the rest of your body following suit. Ten O’clock. Choosing time.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome,” your father’s voice pours through speakers placed around the hall but you can barely register the words being said, “I know many of you have travelled great lengths to be here today and for that our families are incredibly grateful. Tonight is a momentous occasion. It marks the engagement of my girl, Y/n, to one of these fine men.”

Your father motions across the room to where you stand, now with all three brothers stood in front of you, “each one of them have expressed their interest in my daughter and now, with all of you to witness such a grand step in her life, she will choose which of them she would like to marry.”

Whatever head that wasn't already turned now faces you, each holding their breath in anticipation. You aren't looking at them though. Instead, you’re facing the three men that you would do anything in the world for. You can almost see your aching heart already in your hands, ready to rip it into three even pieces and hand it to them with little bows.

You look at Klaus first. Your creative spirit who could fill an entire museum with paintings of your face alone. His hands twitch slightly at his sides and he closes them into fists when you notice. He offers you a small smile and you remember the other night when he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie in the den. He hasn't been sleeping properly with all the arrangements for tonight being settled and you running your hands through his hair had been the final push he needed to collapse. You make sure he’s looking at your lips when you mouth I love you across the room.

You turn quickly to Elijah from there, locking eyes with him immediately. Your warrior who looks especially undone in comparison to his usual put together self. He looks like he has to stop himself from closing the distance between the two of you and that it’s taking most of his remaining energy to do so. That’s Eli for you though, he never can stay away from you for too long. When you mouth I love you to him he stands a little straighter.

You find Kol’s eyes easily from there. Your rebellious, hell-raiser with a glint in his face that you would be able to see from all the way across the room. His hand is in his hair, tugging the strands between his fingers in a way that only he could make look elegant. He’s got a look in his eyes that begs you to do something entirely untraditional. He mouths I love you before you can even open your mouth.

You stand there for an eternity, your feet stuck as though rooted through the floor. Every moment from the past two years rushes through your head. You aren't dying; this isn't a life flashing before your eyes type moment but it may as well be. These three have been your entire life since you were introduced. Not one of them alone could have brought you here. Every moment for two years has been leading to you standing here, with them, at this very second.

It hits you quite suddenly that if you were to remove two of them, the equation that makes up who you are wouldn't be correct anymore. You’ve been juggling with the idea that your soul is four parts rather than two for quite some time now. It wouldn't be right to give three parts to one person, not when each of them have taken the time to so delicately etch their names onto their own separate parts.

You can’t pick just one of them. You’ve known that from the beginning, you just didn’t know what you were going to do about it until now. Your hands tremble now that you know your decision, a chill running up your spine at the thought of sharing it with the crowd. It’s not exactly conventional what you’re about to say.

“I choose Klaus.”

The crowd releases the breath it had been holding for hours. Too bad they're going to be sucking it back in soon. Klaus’ eyes are wide, his mouth open as though he didn't expect to be your choice. Your heart breaks for him and you remind yourself to spend more time with him when this is all over. Your other two boys look devastated, the smiles on their lips looking more like pained grimaces. Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“And I choose Elijah.”

Just like that there is once again no air left in the room. You begin walking towards them, ignoring the buzz of whispers growing in the room. You peer over their shoulders at you parents who don’t look nearly as stunned as they should. In fact your mother is beaming at you. You can feel the pride radiating off her from thirty feet away. You can’t tell if your father mouths I told you so or if you imagine it.

The boys begin moving towards you as well, ready to cover you from the storm raging around you. You can tell there are a thousand things they want to say but you’re not done speaking yet.

You look to the last Mikaelson, willing a smile to take over the frown on his gorgeous face, “and, of course, I choose Kol.”

The crowd roars around you but you’re surrounded with a wall of Mikaelson, blocking you from the prying eyes. You look at each of them, trying to gauge their reactions. You know they said that they're yours but you never discussed marrying all of them. You don’t even know if you can do that. It’s now entirely overwhelming in a completely new way. All three of them stare at you with a mix of shock and awe. Like this is the first time they’re seeing you. You wring your hands together waiting for one of them to say something.

None of them do, though. Instead Elijah closes the space between your bodies and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down hard. His hands grasp your waist with strong fingers, leveling you against his tall frame. It sends shocks through your entire system and you revel in the outright display he’s putting on. He’s the last one you would have expected to lose it in a crowd.

Kol is the next one to close in on you, wrapping his arms around you as well and gently kissing your shoulder. The fire Elijah started in your stomach only increases when Kol bites down. You gasp into Elijah’s mouth but it’s quickly swallowed by the man himself. Kol’s lips feel heavenly against your exposed skin.

Klaus finally steps towards you, tangling his arms in the mess of your bodies and completing your circle. His lips meet the side of your throat in a way only he can, biting down deliciously. When Elijah finally pulls away from you, the rest of them follow. You know your skin is most definitely bruised and your lips swollen. Your curls have most definitely fallen from their pins. You would be worried but each of them still hold you, caged around your body for no one but themselves to see.

The rush of the evening hits you all at once, a strong fatigue laying across your bones. You let your eyes close as you lean further into Elijah. Sensing the finality of your movements, he scoops you up, careful to keep your dress in it’s beautiful condition. He starts walking out of the room, ignoring the protests around him. On cue Kol and Klaus join him on either side.

“Eli, we can’t leave, they’re expecting us,” you can’t hide the yawn in your voice.

“We can, and we are leaving, baby,” he tightens his arms around you, “you need to sleep.”

You shake your head unconvincingly, “I’m fine, Eli.”

The other Mikaelson brothers just laugh.

The smile in Kol’s voice is audible, “yes you are, darling, but humor us won’t you?”

“They’ll be mad at me,” your voice trails off at the end, blackness creeping in around the edges of your mind despite your protests.

“You’ve done more than enough, love, we can take it from here.”

Klaus’ voice is the last you hear, not even making it back up the stairs before you drift out of consciousness.

#the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #to #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 18

Chapter 18 is finally here! Damn this was one hard chapter for me...enjoy!

Chapter 18: Heroes

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Gris sighed as she watched her various clones run off to different directions, slumping against an empty can of cat food.

It’s been two hours since Marinette became Banshee.

There was no sign of Ladybird and with Queen Bee out of commission, Gris wondered if they were even able to take this Victim down.

While Master Fu assured her that things will work out, Gris couldn’t help but feel-

“Mice have been deployed. How are things on your side?” Gris said into her comms, waiting for her partners' updates. She let out a deep breath, watching it merge with the fog.

She can’t let herself lose hope...not yet.

“It’s difficult to ensure that no one will get swept up by my plan.” Ryuuko spoke. “Because I have thought of one.”

“There aren’t any civilians in the streets in our area at the moment. Carapace and I just confirmed that.” Chat managed to answer. “So if you have a plan, go ahead and try what you have in mind.”

“On it.” Ryuuko said, the girl looking at the fog covering all of Paris. “Wind Dragon!”

She watched herself turn into the wind, flying up until she bursted through the layer of fog. Returning half of her body into her original state, Ryuuko summoned her katana, only to find out it had turned into an epee.

It reminded her of the one she often carried in her civilian form, a fencing sword that had been passed on from her grandfather to her mother, and then to her. The only difference between the two were the colors. While the family heirloom was red in color, the one in her hands is black.

Only the handle and button were two other colors. The tip was now white while the handle was decorated in gold and white.

Realizing she was distracted by her epee’s elegance, Ryuuko meditated for a while before her eyes shot open.

Letting out a battle cry, Ryuuko let out an attack, the slash not making a single effect at the dense fog beneath her.

Returning to her wind form, Ryuuko decided to move on to Plan B.

Stretching out her hands, she focused her strength and summoned gusts of winds, the streams of wind circling around all of Paris.

“Ryuuko! What are you doing?” She heard Chat yell at her through the comms. “If you continue to do that, you’ll-”

“Do not worry Chat. I’ll make sure to not exert myself.” Ryuuko promised. With an ‘alright, be safe’ and a click, Ryuuko went back to work.

—

Wally didn’t know how long he was sitting on the cold ground, still trying to process what the hell happened to him.

“-y! Wally! Can you hear me?” Wally managed to recognize Barry’s concern, pulling his hands out of his hair and instead wrapped them around himself.

He was still shaking.

He can’t give them a reason to barge in...even if he -and possibly the Miraculous Team- were in dire need of help. “Wally.” He heard him say again.

Tiredly, Wally chose to finally answer him.

“I’m alright.” Wally tried to assure. He hated how he was able to hear his own scattered heartbeat despite talking through the comms.

“Wally. We know-”

“No, you don’t know what’s going on here.” Wally growled, trembling as he attempted to get up, only for his legs to give in.

“Wally, we do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“A miraculous wielder going out of control is not something to be trifled with.” He heard Diana say in the background along with what seemed to be chairs slightly scraping the floor.

“Do...do you have me on speaker?” Wally asked, his anger slipping out.

“Wally. It’s all over international news.” He heard Barry say, Wally feeling his heart stop and anger dissipate.

Was it always on the news? He was pretty sure Amira-

“She’s the one who was in charge of blocking the media.” Wally muttered, getting up from his spot on the ground. “Amira was doing damage control all this time and-“ Wally let out a groan and a huff. “Barry, I need to go.”

“Wally. Don’t you-“

“Amira is in trouble and you guys aren’t allowed to help because some people decided it was a good idea to force her to join the Justice league…” Silence came from the other end of the comms. “But even if you guys aren’t allowed in Paris, I know of a few who are.”

“Wally, please-”

“I know what I’m doing. They’re the only ones who can help Amira right now.” With that, Wally turned off the comms and took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Amira.”

—

Barbara dropped the cup of coffee in her hand, the chair she was in toppling over when she quickly got up. She listened as fine china got crushed with each hesitant step she took towards Tim.

“Amira...Amira got what?”

“Babs, listen. Amira-” Tim started, only to be grabbed and made to face Barbara.

“Isn’t that bad? To be akumatized? At least that’s what B’s reports say-what exactly-”

“What happened to Amira is none of your business.” Dick replied for Tim, Selina following right behind him. Judging from their getup and the duffel bags slung on their arms, they were heading somewhere...but she knew where.

Paris.

“Let me go with you.” Barbara demanded, setting Tim down. “Please, Richard. Let me help you. Let me help Amira. She’s-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Selina cut off.

“Please!” Barbara begged. “Amira is my friend, we need to-”

“We,” Dick said, gesturing to himself and Selina, “will be the only ones who will be going. You and Tim are to remain-”

“No.” Barbara said, taking in a deep breath. “I’m going with you.”

“Barbara. You and Amira didn’t exactly end on good terms. If you go and she sees that you’re-”

“So that’s why you don’t want me to go.” Barbara stated, curling her hands. “You think I might agitate her more and cause her to cause more damage if she sees me.” She took his silence as a yes. “Then at least...at least let me help you through the comms. After all, you’re going to need as many eyes as you can in this mission.”

Richard looked over his shoulder, Selina’s huff and smirk being enough to let him know her opinion.

“Alright. But you are to listen to all my instructions to a ‘t,’ understood?” Dick commanded, Barbara wanting to grin at her small victory.

“Yes!”

Tim watched as the trio walked to the zeta beam, Selina graciously setting the coordinates to the one in Paris.

Within a few seconds, they were on their way to rescuing Amira.

Carapace hit the back of his head against the brick wall as he leaned back to take a rest.

“Where the hell can she be?” He asked himself, wondering where Banshee hid Lila.

He had already checked all the possible places she would have hidden her, but didn’t find the missing girls.

The school was empty.

The bakery was empty.

The park was empty.

The zoo also held no clues.

All of the museums had no sign of Lila being there nor Banshee.

Not even Grévin Museum, Marinette’s favorite place to go during her free time.

He had looked at every possible place Marinette had gone or visited in Paris and he hadn’t found Lila, not even a single clue that could lead to finding her.

Carapace went to reach his comm to update the team about his dilemma, only to find his hand simply hovering over it.

“Why exactly did you choose me, Ladybird?” Nino asked her one night, Ladybird looking at him in curiosity. “Why me when there are so many other people who are more well equipped for this?”

He watched as Ladybird hummed, her eyes seeing something he could not.

“Not every person who I saw as a candidate was as loyal and protective as you were. Half tried to stand their ground, only to give up. Some quickly backed down when they realized the possible consequences if they kept trying to defend their beliefs or friends. But you,” Ladybird smiled at him. “You stood your ground while doubt circled around you. You remained undeterred and firm when others criticized your choices. That’s why I picked you.”

“Because you had the courage to protect what was important to you.” Carapace reminded himself, frowning at himself.

He couldn’t just give up...he had to keep looking.

Surging with new confidence, Carapace decided to update the others. “Still got nothing on Lila or Banshee. I’m going to start checking other locations, but if anyone else has any ideas on what other places-”

“What places have you checked? Perhaps we can help.” A new voice said within their comms, startling the team. For Chat, it sounded oddly familiar.

“Chat, what’s going on?” Ryuuko asked, Chat realizing that she asked him through her miraculous’ comm.

Who was this? And...English? Chat thought as he went back to answer the newcomer.

“Identify yourself.” Cat Noir demanded, wondering how this person got into their system.

“Who we are doesn’t matter. We came to help you.” Another voice joined, Chat wondering how many had hacked into their system.

“How do we know you aren’t on Hawkmoth’s side? How can we trust you if you-”

“Marinette is my friend. I can’t just sit by and do nothing while I know there is something I can do.” The second voice said, Gris being able to hear the frustration in her voice.

“Chat, it seems like they actually want to help us.” Chat heard Gris tell him through her miraculous.

“That isn’t enough to convince me that you’re on our side.” Chat told the newcomers.

“We know how her powers work.” Another voice joined in, this time, male. He sounded as if he was around their age. Perhaps a year or two older than them.

“So do we.”

“We also have an idea of the item where the akuma is hidden.” Another male voice said, caused Chat’s mind to come to a halt. Why did it sound familiar? “Adding on to the akuma power, those are the two main facts we have to help bring Marinette back.”

Carapace waited with baited breath as he awaited for Chat’s response, wondering what exactly was going through his mind.

“Seems like you’re on our side. But even if you don’t want to drop your names, at least give us some code names we can refer to each of you.” Ryuuko heard Chat say, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

So they’re allies.

“Alright. I’m Corvus.” The familiar male voice replied.

“Osprey.” The first female voice said.

“Oriole.” The other male responded.

“Felis.”

“Alright then.” Chat replied, quickly changing over to the miraculous comms. “Team, we have new allies. We’ll be using our translators while using the regular comms to ensure our communications go smoothly and prevent confusion.”

“How exactly do we-”

“Don’t worry. I’ll explain it right now.”

“Do you think we got through to them?” Wally asked, watching Barbara not lift her eyes for a second from the monitors in front of her.

Her hands moved quickly across the keyboard, not leaving a single room for error as she hooked up a program to hack into the Parisian street cameras and home security cameras.

Wally had hesitantly agreed to letting Barbara use Amira’s computer to hack into the team’s comms and then this.

Hope Amira didn’t mind.

“I hope we did.” Dick confessed. “Also, why Oriole?”

“Well, you started with Corvus and then Barbara said Osprey so I said Oriole to keep with the bird theme.” Wally replies, hearing Selina’s chuckle through the comm. “Of course, I should’ve known-”

“Corvus.” Dick heard Chat say, Wally annoyed that he was interrupted..

“Still here.”

“Welcome to the team...now, let’s review what each of us know about the situation while Carapace and Gris continue to search for Banshee.”

“Alright.”

—

It was cold.

It was dark.

She hated it...and that’s saying something from a Gothamite who’s used to the dark.

Amira lifted her eyelids, watching as she climbed stairs she never once climbed. After all, she always used to just zip to the top. She tried to stop herself, but could barely control her own body.

“Banshee.” A voice whispered to her. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hawkmoth.” She acknowledged, stopping mid flight.

“How are things going?”

“Wonderfully.” She answered back...but she knew it wasn’t her... “Lila is getting what she deserves just as we speak. That harlot will pay for-“

“As wonderful as that sounds, there is still one part of the deal that is yet to be completed.”

“Don’t worry. I’m working on it. Just be pa-” She heard herself snarl when she felt a ring pang through her head, causing her to fold over.

She clutched her head between her forearms, wanting the pain to go away as it intensified with each passing second.

“Were you just about to say patient? Must I remind you who the one in charge here is?”

Banshee let out a whimper as she felt her body stiffen. “I suggest you hurry up and keep your end of the deal. After all, I kept mine.”

Banshee growled as Hawkmoth released his control over her, allowing her to relax. But just as she had been let go, she could feel something whirl within her. It was frustrated, annoyed, pissed...hurt.

In that split second, Amira could actually see what was in front of her.

She was able to feel the vile power running within her.

Looking down at the pitch black dress on her, Amira let out a horrified gasp, feeling all the memories surge up into her mind at once. She didn’t register the tears that ran down her face nor her raspy breaths as she brought her black laced hands closer to face.

She could feel the rapid rises and falls of her chest as she slowly observed how vile the black felt on her. How disgusted she was in herself.

She finally let out a scream, wrapping her arms around her, not thinking about anything else but the consequences of having shown her emotions earlier that day.

How naive she was to believe she could handle being a vigilante…

How wrong she was…

No wonder…

No wonder her father said those things to her...because he saw...

He saw how flawed she was…

How immature she had grown to be...

How stupid she was to think she was in the right all these years when in reality...he was the one who was right…

Who is right...

She really wasn’t prepared…

Not prepared at all…

She was no hero, not even a vigilante…

She was a damn failure from the very start...

“-also check places where- what the hell is going on?” Corvus whispered into the comms as he stopped himself from jumping onto the next building. As much as he feared the shaking ground, there was something else that he feared.

The fog beneath him was starting to thicken even more, spots that were lights were now dimmer, almost invisible. He couldn’t move any further with all of this!

“Everyone! It seems like-” Ryuuko was about to speak, only to be cut off by a shriek in the comms.

“Oriole!” Osprey yelled, Gris hearing screams and things being thrashed around heard in the background through Oriole’s side. “Oriole! What’s going on!”

“Osprey! What’s-” Dick could feel his panic rising.

“Oriole -he just - he just collapsed and started screaming, calling for...Mimi. He won’t stop-” She was cut off by some static, the team wondering what the hell was going on.

‘Mimi? Must be some dear to him.’ Gris thought to herself, but she couldn’t help but notice how quiet the Birds and Cat Team got, wondering why they weren’t worrying over their teammate.

That made her wonder...

Why were they willing to help them to try and help Marinette so badly? What exactly is their relationship with her? Because as far as Gris knew, Marinette didn’t have many friends.

But then again, even with the friends she did have, Marinette wasn’t exactly open with them either. Yes, they’ve known her for roughly four months, but even then, they didn’t know much about their beloved friend.

“It’s Banshee.” Gris heard Ryuuko said shakily. “She’s enhancing her strength by using her own powers against herself!”

“We have to stop her!”

“But how?”

“Leave that to us.” Ryuuko heard Felis say.

“Is Oriole-” Chat started, only to get cut off.

“He’s alright. But he also confirmed one of our theories that would help us to counter Banshee’s power.” Chat heard Felis say.

“Counter? How exactly-”

“Don’t worry about the how. Worry about the when.” Chat heard Corvus say.

“When? Don’t tell me you plan on going right now?”

“Of course not. If my team heads now, then we won't be able to know where Rossi is hidden.” Chat listened as a glass clinked together on Corvus’ side. “We’ll wait for Carapace, Gris or Oriole to locate the girl first. When we know she’s safe, that’s when my team will strike.

We need to make sure that Rossi is safe or else our entire plan will fail.”

Lila clawed at her throat, trying to scrape away the itchiness within her. To try and get rid of the dry lumps that were growing by the minute.

She couldn’t breath. It hurt. It burned.

Her eyes continued to sting, Lila feeling the tears continuing to pool beneath her. They hurt even with the low amount of light around her.

The only thing that had managed to ground her a bit was the cold ground her body was so desperately against.

A cold embrace that gave her a break from the endless insults thrown her way for the past...hours? Days?

Lila froze when she heard a sound in the distance, curling into herself. She covered her face with her arms, trying her best to not let out a single whimper.

She bit her tongue as she heard the sound get closer to her, daring herself to sit upwards.

She listened as the sound began to become clearer...listening as footsteps drew near to her.

Lila didn’t dare to lift her head to see whether it really was someone coming or not. She wasn’t going to risk to keep seeing the illusions, the hallucinations she’s been hearing all this time.

After all, compared to all that she had been going through, this was a nice change of pace.

She listened as the footsteps grew louder, each step echoing throughout the dim place she was in.

She listened and listened, each passing second causing her heartbeat to quicken.

Then they stopped.

Stopping right in front of her.

They placed a hand on her shoulder.

So it wasn’t just another nightmare. This was real.

Slowly lifting her head, Lila had wished this was just another nightmare because the minute she saw that needle in the man’s hand, she felt her heart stop.

Letting out a piercing scream, Lila tried to get away from the person in front of her, but her legs gave in.

Lila screamed and tried to claw herself away from the person who pulled her closer to them, but all that she managed to grasp was the gravel that dug into her palms, blood seeping from the wounds.

She continued to scream even as she was then pinned down beneath the man, feeling something stab her arm.

As soon as the needle pierced her skin, Lila felt a wave of relief. A peace so needed, Lila relished in the ecstasy, feeling herself drift to sleep.

Bruce looked at the girl beneath him and then at the syringe in his hand.

To think that Amira was the one who caused all this. And to think that worked perfectly against Banshee’s powers…

He had to report back. Taking out a phone, Bruce quickly typed into it and then tucked it away.

He looked at the girl who was now peacefully sleeping on the ground, knowing that he had to leave soon despite wanting to take the girl to a safer location.

Squeaks started to become audible, Bruce taking that as his cue to leave.

“Gris! We have a possible clue to where Rossi might be!” Carapace heard Osprey exclaim.

“Where?” And how? She wanted to ask.

Carapace and her had tried every possible way to track Lila, Carapace having checked different surveillance cameras while Gris deployed all of her clones to search for her, only for their efforts to be in vain.

How did they easily find her within an hour?

“She’s in the catacombs.” Gris sucked in a breath. The catacombs? As in-

“Are you sure that’s where she’s at?” Gris managed to calm herself, sending a signal to the closest clone to check it out. Why the catacombs of all places?

“Yes. Some home security cameras managed to capture when Banshee took Lila there through one of the many entrances scattered throughout Paris.”

“I’m on my way!” Gris reported, switching perspectives from her original form and the one closest to the catacombs.

She ran down the dusty steps, running past the narrow tunnel that felt like it could come crumbling down at any moment. But when got to the end of that tunnel, Gris froze.

Is this why?

Is this why Banshee kept Lila down here?

Gris stood face to face with a wall of human skulls and bones, arranged in symmetrical patterns. Skull, bone, bone, bone, skull. Each skull was placed equally away from each other, the bones in between neatly arranged to be pointed in the same direction.

The musty air and debris free floor kept Gris from moving forward, but she knew she couldn’t just stand there. She had to find Lila and now.

Taking a step forward, Gris let out a wail as she mustered the courage to take the other.

But the stare of the eight foot wall of skulls looking back at her…

Prying her eyes from it, Gris ran past the wall, turning corners only to face another structure with the soulless remains of those before her.

Columns, archs, pillars and even crosses appeared before her, causing Gris to feel goosebumps emerge on her skin.

If that wasn’t enough, every corner that Gris took, she just couldn’t seem to get out of the loop she placed herself in. She even tried to stop and recollect herself only to realize that each fork in the path looked the same. Each corner and pillar she passed looked just like the one before.

Was…

Was she lost?

“-is! Gris! What’s going on? You haven’t talked to us in the past half hour. Gris!” She finally heard Chat saying, Gris coming to a halt.

Half an hour? She had been running around this maze...for half an hour?

Dropping her transformation, Sabrina slumped to the ground and brought her knees to her chest, letting out a shuddering breath out.

“Sabrina.” Mullo coaxed. “Are you alright?”

“Gris. Are you still there?”

“I...I can’t…” Sabrina sniffled out, digging her head further into her knees. She held back a wail, biting her tongue in hopes to shift her attention from her thoughts. But it failed. “I can’t…” A hiccup escaped her as she hovered her hand over her comms.

“Gris...where are you?” She heard Carapace ask her a second before she turned off her comm, not wanting to hear anyone at the moment. “I don’t know about you, but I asked Ladybird why she chose me.” Sabrina jumped when her burner phone talked, Sabrina taking it out to see the message flashing across the screen.

Chat said Ladybird had planned on giving it to her the next time they met, but Chat saw it just to give it to her now.

A phone especially created by civilian Ladybird just for those that were part of the team.

Team...like if she even belonged in it.

“Sabrina, we have to keep-”

“What’s the point Mullo?” Sabrina wiped off her tears, letting out another sniffle. “I’m useless. Worthless. I should’ve been able to track down Lila’s location, but I couldn’t. Osprey, on the other hand, was able to locate her in less than an hour! Don’t you see Mullo? I’m supposed to be the brains of the team like Osprey, but I messed up! I messed up even more when I got lost, mocking Osprey’s hard work of finding Lila’s location. What’s the point of continuing if I’m just going to keep holding everyone ba-”

“Snap out of it!” Mullo yelled, Sabrina feeling paws rest against her hand. “This isn’t like you Sabrina! Not one bit!” Sabrina pursed her lips, throwing her head back into her knees. “Sabrina! Don’t you remember why Ladybird chose you? You, the girl that no one sees?”

“Well, thank you for the-ow!” Sabrina yelped, retracting her hand from Mullo’s mouth. “Why did you bite-”

“Ladybird didn’t choose the quitter sitting in front of me! She chose the girl who’s ambition to make friends through kindness caught not only her attention, but heart as well. The girl who’s info gathering and intelligence flourished and allowed her to achieve the goal she wanted. A selfless girl disguised as a selfish, ambitious one.” Mullo nuzzled against Sabrina’s cheek. “Ladybird needs you to help the team and keep them moving, we need you to make this fight a victory and as for Marinette,” Mullo looked straight into Sabrina’s eyes, “Marinette needs you -her friend- to save her.”

Sabrina watched as Mullo smiled at her. “So then Sabrina...what’s your decision? Will you continue to mope around here or continue to fight alongside your friends to save a friend? Which will it be?”

Sabrina looked down at the mouse miraculous around her neck, placing the pendant in the palm of her hand. The silver locket was opened with ease, displaying Sabrina and her father on the left side while a picture of her, Chloe and Marinette were on the other.

“Isn’t it obvious, Mullo?” Sabrina got up shakily. “Mullo, get squeaky!”

“-not picking up.” Osprey heard Chat say through the comms, wanting to say something to comfort them, but what can she say?

She didn’t know them, neither as the vigilantes they were now nor their civilian forms. What can she say to comfort them in a time like this? When a friend is the force they’re up against?

“Sorry everyone. Had to replenish for a bit. But I found Lila! The target has been secured! Quickly transporting to the designated destination.”

Felis heard an audible sigh of relief echoing within the comms, letting herself smile at this tiny victory. After all, this was just one step towards the big one.

“Phase one has been completed. You know what this means.” Corvus relayed.

“Ryuuko, you’re up.” Chat cleared up.

“On it.”

It was cold. Colder than usual.

Heavy fog was sitting all around her, but Banshee didn’t care.

Banshee looked at her hands, finding them covered in tears. Frowning at them, she shook them off before continuing her ascendance up the stairs, smiling at the fact that she was able to make Lila feel the same pain as she did.

But her victory was short lived.

The high whistling of wind snapped her attention, her eyes narrowing when she watched the fog starting to gather near the UNESCO World Heritage Centre, watching as the accumulated fog swirled in circles.

She snarled when a large hole in the cloudy sky appeared, allowing that morning’s sunlight to pierce through, dispersing the fog into nothing.

The city of Paris is now clear of her terror.

Now there, hovering in the air, was a single hero.

A hero...a ray of hope.

Banshee gritted her teeth together, feeling her annoyance starting to spike.

“Banshee. It seems as if they’re onto you. But this is it. Takes this chance to engage them and take their-”

“Banshee!” A voice called out, a voice that sounded...familiar…

Banshee remained still while her eyes darted around to see who dared to face her. As she scanned the area, she found them. Standing a flight above her was a man cladded in black, the only color on him was the blue domino mask across his face. Escrima sticks were prying from behind him.

“Who are you?” Banshee asked, not moving a step.

“Who I am shouldn’t matter. What should matter is the fight that is about to happen!”

Banshee scowled as the man charged at her, Banshee managing to dodge all of his attacks. But she wondered, why didn’t she want to touch him? Why did she hesitate to place a hand on him?

In that self monologue, she must’ve gotten distracted, feeling a hand connect with her stomach, causing her to stumble, her side hitting the railing beside them. She felt bile daring to rise to the surface.

“Mi!” The man yelled, grabbing Banshee by her wrist, his hand over-

“You let your guard down!” Banshee grinned, clasping her hand over his wrist, causing the man to let go of her and slump. She watched as the man cowered away from her, murmuring incoherent sentences.

“Corvus!” A voice yelled, a woman now appearing, wearing a skin-tight unitard, Banshee feeling something in her head begin to ring. She watched as the woman took out a needle with what seemed to be clear blue substance. She began to inject it into the man, something clicking inside Banshee.

“Dad. What’s that?” Amira asked her father, watching as he packed away some vials into his utility belt. It was another day of keeping Gotham safe, Amira already planning on bringing some homework to keep her company while she awaited for her father’s return.

“Antidotes that work against Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin.” She heard her father say, watching as he double checked his equipment.

“Have...have you ever been...hit by it?” Amira dared to ask, already knowing the answer to that.

“I have...it’s one of the worst feelings in the world.” Bruce said, placing his belt back into its case.

Amira watched as her father ran a hand over the case before turning his attention back to Amira. “Why don’t the two of us go see if Alfred needs any help in the kitchen? How does that sound?”

“He’ll probably kick us out. Remember what happened last time?” Amira referred to the last time her father tried to help Alfred make pasta. She watched as her father let out a laugh, a laugh that made her follow along and laugh as well.

Banshee was snapped from her thoughts when she felt something mere inches away from her face.

She tried to avoid the incoming fist coming at her but noticed a whip constricting her movements. So instead of taking a step back, she took a step to the side, connecting her heel with the back of Corvus’ head and twirled her way towards the woman.

Making it seem as if she was about to use her leg again to attack, Banshee let out a laugh when the woman prepared to block her kick only for the two to connect foreheads. With the slight release of hold, Banshee freed herself and held the woman’s hand between her hands, grinning as the woman looked at her with tears pooling in her eyes.

“Mi!” Banshee clicked her tongue as she watched Corvus come for her again, the two exchanging blows, Banshee dodging all of the blows her way but not being able to land one herself. “Mi! You have to stop this! Fight it back!” Corvus yelled, Banshee noticing that he was by the woman’s side, administering the same needle she had seen just moments ago.

“My name’s Banshee. I’m not this Mi you speak of.”

“Mi, try to remember! Remember!” Corvus yelled, this time taking out his escrima sticks, Banshee taking a step back when she saw the tips of them spark. “Mi, I don’t-”

“I’m not Mi! I’m Banshee!” Banshee yelled, charging once more, feeling her mind muddle even more.

She kept fighting, exchanging blows with Corvus and avoiding the woman. She often got close to landing a blow on either of them before someone in the distance would interfere.

Glaring at the hero in the distance, Banshee knew she wasn’t going to be able to win this fight unless she thought of something...and fast!

When Corvus once more charged towards her, she tried to grab him again, only to be grabbed by her wrist and pinned down.

Banshee squirmed as the woman approached Corvus, Banshee glaring at her as she did.

“Felis. Give the signal.” Corvus told Felis, Banshee remaining still as she watched Felis talk with someone else on the other end of their comms. “Banshee. No...Mi. Just wait a little longer. We’ll get you out of this-”

“Fools, the lot of you.” Banshee said, grinning. “You two were so worried about being touched by me that you forgot one thing.”

Corvus let those words sink in as he watched Banshee look down to her hands that were-

“Don’t do it!” Corvus yelled, watching as Banshee clasped her hands together, letting out a shriek so deafening, it caused both Corvus and Felis to collapse, their screams scattering into the wind.

Just when things were turning for the better, it went back to square one.

Seconds after Corvus and Felis had managed to take down Banshee and gave orders to commence the next phase, Chat watched as fog started to pour down from the top of the Eiffel Tower followed by a piercing screech.

“Corvus, what the hell is going on?” He demanded, but got nothing on his end. “Corvus! Give me a-“

“He’s down!” Osprey replied, Chat hearing rustling in the background. He could also hear clicking and glass clink against one another.

“What’s going-”

“Banshee used her power against herself, meaning she revitalized her control on those she’s touched. In other words-“

“She managed to escape our hold.” Chat gritted his teeth.

Just when they were so close! “We need to hurry and-“

“Don’t you dare go after her right now.” Osprey threatened.

“You can’t-“

“If I remember correctly, Lila wasn’t the only one affect by Banshee’s power. Wasn’t there someone else?”

Chat froze.

How did he forget about Chloé? And not only once, but twice! “Guessing by your silence, there is. I’ll be going to your location to drop off an antidote that’s been confirmed to work against Banshee’s power.”

“Antidote? Confirmed?” Chat whispered.

“Remember how we told you that Oriole was touched and had relapsed? Well, back where we come from, we face a villain with similar powers, but without the magic. When Oriole told us how Banshee’s power worked, we wondered if the antidote we made would work in this case. Corvus managed to prove our theory correct. They do indeed work the same way.”

Chat remained stunned, soaking in the new information.

They weren’t Parisians? They fought against people who were just as powerful as Banshee...but without magic? “Oh! Carapace is right here! I’ll just send Carapace your wa-”

“No. He’ll be giving the straight to both Lila and the other victim.” Chat found himself saying, crouching towards the floor.

He couldn’t face Chloe right now...he just couldn’t.

“Sure?” He heard Carapace asking him.

“Yea.”

“With that settled, I’m going to be moving to Plan B. Meet you at the rendezvous!”

With that last order from Osprey, Chat got back up and let a single tear fall down his face.

He’s supposed to be the one in command and yet here he was, just sitting at the sidelines, doing nothing.

“Just what kind of leader am I?”

“Amira.” A voice whispered to her, Amira wondering who was calling her. “Amira.” There it was again, and as much as Amira wanted to know who it was, she couldn’t open her eyes to see who it was. She couldn’t move a single muscle, not being able to respond to the voice that kept calling her. A voice that begged her to wake up.

A voice that she’s never heard before but for some reason, she felt as if she’s heard it once before...many, many years ago.

Banshee felt heavy, exhausted, watching another tear drip off of the tip of her nose and join the pool of tears by her hands.

She never registered the yells and shouts of Ryuuko attempting to get rid of the new fog surrounding the Eiffel Tower.

“Amira.” A voice called out, causing Banshee to look up, noticing the lack of a neon purple mask around her face.

Was it not Hawkmoth who called out to her? “Amira.”

There it was again. “Amira.”

“Who’s talking?” Banshee yelled out, getting up to see no one in front of her nor behind her. She walked up the stairs, hearing the metal creak beneath her feet.

“Amira, did you forget me already?” The voice called out, Banshee turning to see who spoke to her.

“Ja...son?” Amira could feel herself losing herself when she saw him in front of her. “Jason...what are you doing here, in Paris?”

“Amira...why are you doing this?” Jason asked her, stepping closer to her, causing Amira to step back.

“Sta-stay back! I might hurt you!”

“You say that and yet there’s already so many you’ve already hurt before me.” Jason told her, causing her to freeze. “Or am I wrong?”

Amira felt her voice stuck in her throat. “N-No! I didn’t-”

“Are you really going to deny hurting Selina? Dick? Are you?”

“N-no! I-I! It wasn’t me! It was Hawkmoth! He-”

“He may have given you the power, but in the end, it was your decision on whether or not to use it. And you decided to use it against not only your family, but on friends as well...like Chloe...and Wally.”

Amira hung her head, feeling the tears spilling without her permission. “I didn’t-”

“Stop making excuses, Amira! Open your damn eyes!” Jason yelled at her, shaking her shoulders. “Are you even Amira? The Bat’s daughter, my sister?” Jason asked. “What happened to the Amira I knew? Where did she go?”

“I-I!” Amira tried to find the words, but none came out. “Jason, listen, I- Jason?” She called out when she saw no one in front of her. All she saw was her akumatized bracelet on the floor in front of her.

“-chance Banshee! Use this to get Chat Noir’s mira-”

Had she been hallucinating this entire time? Didn’t matter, she had something far more important to think about.

“NO!” Amira yelled, disgusted by the neon purple mask hovering against her face. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to help-”

She collapsed to the floor once again, her head on the verge of exploding.

“Banshee! I am the one who gave you your powers so you are to do-”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Banshee screamed as her head began to ache, a ringing that wouldn’t dare stop.

“How dare you defile me! I’m the one who gave you power, I’m the one who is allowing you to-“

“You...gave me...nothing.” Amira snarled between waves of pain. “All you’ve done is manipulate me. Nothing more, nothing less. You took advantage of my anger and rage, took it and made it into a weapon.

A weapon you had planned to use against Ladybird and Chat Noir. Using me to gain some measly-“

“Oh dear child. That’s where you’re wrong.” The neon purple mask hovering over Banshee’s face flowed even brighter, allowing Banshee to see in front of her. “Ladybird and Chat Noir’s miraculouses are more than just magical pieces of jewelry.

When placed together, they grant a single wish. As for what wish, you will know it once I get-”

“Get your hands on? As, in on the miraculouses?” Amira chuckled. “Well, guess what? I won’t let you.” Amira declared, getting up. “I won’t let you hurt my friends anymore for your own goal, I won’t let you get your hands on those miraculouses! I won’t let you win, Hawkmoth! I wo-!”

Amira screamed as she fell to the floor once again, resisting the urge to clutch her head to soothe the pain.

“Foolish girl! You don’t-”

“It’s you who is the fool!” Amira reminded, sitting up, almost falling back down as her arm almost gave in. She watched as the neon purple light around her face flickered. “You may think you are the one in charge, but you aren’t. I am!” Amira yelled, grasping the neon light mask hovering above her face, causing the mask to shatter to tiny pieces of glass and for her to writhe in pain.

She continued to kick around as her heart was being wrung, silent screaming escaping her as she gasped for air.

She watched as she continued to flail, wondering if anyone would get to her in time.

She wonder if this is how-

“Amira!” She heard someone yell, but she couldn’t turn to see who it was. Didn’t matter as Wally’s face soon made it to her vision, Amira feeling her chest hurt even more when she saw how red his eyes were. “Amira, don’t worry! We’ll-”

“Smash it.” Amira found herself saying, looking over to where Wally had barely missed stepping on the akumatized bracelet.

“What?”

“Step...on..it…” Amira said again. “Then take my earrings.” A wince. “Tikki will help from there.” She managed to say in two breaths.

“But what-”

“Hurry!” Amira wheezed out, hating how her vision kept swinging between pitch blackness and her tunneled vision.

At least she was able to hear Wally crush her bracelet and Tikki’s voice before finally succumbing to the darkness.

“Amira!”

“Don’t be bemused! It’s just the news!

After seven grueling hours, our heroes have finally done it!” The news channel showed off the Eiffel Tower, free of fog and a swarm of ladybugs gathering at the top. “They’ve placed evil back into its place!” Then, the ladybugs dispersed, many Parisians watching how little there was this time around compared to other fights. ”They’ve once more proven to be a team to be reckoned with.

Thank you. Thank you for keeping us safe, Miracle Team. You guys are truly Paris’ pride and joy...our heroes!”

#maribat #amira wayne

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