#i was so stupid as a kid i never realise i could fast forward past things i didn't like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enhyupn · 3 years

Text

enhypen as characters inspired by animes ᯤ

tagging @youreverydayzebra @ncityy04 @rheyom

ot7!enhypen x gn!reader, fluff, warnings: mentions of (jokingly) dying, swear words, reader’s in a maid outfit in jay’s one but no mentions of a certain gender, word count: 3.3k

a/n most of these aren’t the same as the animes mentioned but instead just inspired or loosely inspired by the plot! also some of these aren’t the same in word count and i apologise for that ]:

∷ heeseung — orange

heeseung as the new kid at school and he’s so pretty that everyone just. Stops in place and just stares at him as he introduces himself

funnily enough you already saw this coming, realising this was the same heeseung the letter you received that morning told you about

what was funnier was the fact that letter was coming from the future you

you didn’t believe it Then because like... it kinda sounds too stupid to be true

but then BOOM there heeseung is

your teacher makes him sit beside you and you’re just trying to wrap your head around how crazy all of this is

your letter even told you that he was going to sit beside you, why was all of this coming true????

you didn’t read on because you were in a rush to get to school but maybe if that letter warned you about how pretty he was, you wouldn’t of been that flustered when he started talking to you

“hey i’m heeseung!” “ummm yeah, i’m y/n... yeah”

when school ends you RACE home to get to that letter again

rest of heeseung + of the members under the cut!

your future self was gonna have a lot of explaining to do...

turns out the future you Let this same heeseung walk out of your life so now you have to fix this

“dear past me, i can’t believe i was this stupid to let him leave my life like this— how stupid am i??”

now you make it your mission to keep your barely started relationship not go rocky

and oh boy would that be a challenge for the years to come

not because heeseung’s a terrible bf, future you just gave terrible tips

everyday after that you and heeseung (like the letter said) turned into great friends

great friends as in friends that people think that are dating

soon that friendship became a relationship... and a very strong one to be honest

your letters were weirdly very accurate

a firework festival... how he confessed to you... all of it was in those letters

honestly you should scold them for letting heeseung get away!!

you secretly wanna tease them that YOU have heeseung by your side and they don’t but... you can’t really do that

you tell heeseung about the letters one day and he just. Stares at you in astonishment

because he also received letters on the same day you got them from future him too

turns out future you and heeseung both regret their decision

poor them but at least present you gets to kiss heeseung whenever you want 😇

not to spoil anything but heeseung didn’t end up walking out of your life <3 instead you two are now sickly in love

∷ jay — maid-sama

you work at a maid café mainly because you needed the money and honestly... it wasn’t even that bad of a job

i mean compared to your school president life — trying to keep teenage boys out of trouble — happily serving polite and friendly (most of the time) customers was definitely a steal

one boy in particular gave you a bit more trouble than the rest of them however

he wasn’t bad or anything, just... a serial heart breaker

jay park was always on your radar due to the fact so many people would go up to you asking you to tell him to be nicer with his rejections

he wasn’t complied to be nicer but 😍 what can you do

safe to say that you didn’t think you had the best relationship with him

you couldn’t understand him even more when you saw him prettily sitting at the tables at your work

may i add, with you in your very own maid outfit as well as a twitching eye

“y/n! looking great” “thanks m-ma-mas—” “your customer service is terrible”

and the fact he came every day after that day made you feel Terrified

and also a little excited to go to work but you’d never admit that!!!

having him stare at you while you cheerily wrote with ketchup on omelettes was... definitely not how you thought your relationship would be like

he would also make small talk too

and visit you after your shift!!! walking you home

now... his daily visits turned into genuine great conversations on the way home

you realised he wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be

he just had strong beliefs that he should only accept a confession if it’s from someone he loves

you didn’t know how... but now You Have Feelings For him.

and seeing him when smile at you every time you serve him at that little maid café... ARGGGG it drove you absolutely mad

the way he oozed out confidence... was sweet and quite literally the prettiest person you’ve ever seen... how could you not

and what other way to confess to him than at the very place your relationship blossomed at!

you wrote “i like you” with ketchup on fried rice for him... yeah

thankfully he was over the moon and Had to hold back kissing you in front of the customers

now you two were dating <3 with the help of a maid café

and that really only left you with one more question

“why did you start visiting this maid café in the first place?”

∷ jake — kimi no todoke

being the quiet student is never. a good thing

especially when you’re ostracised by your class because you never participate

you actually want to but you can’t build any confidence to do so

you never caught the attention of anyone

well... besides a certain popular boy by the name of jake sim

oh boy was this gonna be a culture shock to the girls that have a crush on him

he noticed you on the first day of school when you asked him for directions to your classroom

he won’t ever forget it, the way you had a huge excited smile on his face as the cherry blossoms fell softly around you

he quotes, it looked like you came straight out of heaven because it looked like you had wings on you

he didn’t know how to get your attention though.

every time he tried to do so you wouldn’t even look at him and would just look down at your desk

it hurt him to see you so isolated

that’s when he had the bright idea to ask you if you wanted to walk with him home

bad idea (kinda), because you did accept but you didn’t know what to do the whole time because you’ve never walked home with someone before

it was bad enough that jake was absolutely Stunning. like blindingly attractive

you didn’t know what to say at all

well until you came across a small puppy making it’s way up to the two of you

they were so cute that you just squealed out of excitement

jake was so surprised to hear Something from you that he just instantly put on this huge genuine grin

“there’s no tag on them!” your upsetting tone sent jake into haywire

he literally watched you pet that dog with literal heart eyes he wasn’t even being sutble

he takes a picture of you and he Stupidly leaves the ringer on so you hear him and everything

he was so embarrassed about it

“did you just take a picture of me?” “y-yeah” “oh... is that what people do?”

you literally had no idea how to interact with people so you thought what he did was Normal

somehow this caused jake’s crush on you to develop Quick

especially when you grabbed his hand to pull you closer to the dog

his heart was beating so fast he didn’t know what to do

he is self proclaimed the biggest dog lover but for some reason... he wasn’t even looking at the dog, not even trying to play with it

he was just staring at you with his doting eyes as you smiled and giggled while playing with the dog

he wasn’t gonna confess yet though because he still has to develop your relationship

in true shoujo romance anime fashion, he was gonna confess twelve episodes (probably a year) later <3

∷ sunghoon — ao haru ride

no i definitely did not put sunghoon for ao haru ride because i have a huge crush on kou and sunghoon... /s

you and sunghoon were in the same elementary class because... fate

you had the biggest crush on him and even your mom knew him because he was a well known figure skater

but who didn’t have a crush on him was the real question

being the young confident elementary student you were, you always talked to him

forever talking to him to the point where you two were Actually really good friends

you thought you were on cloud9

but. turns out figure skating takes a lot more training than you had thought so

you literally cried Buckets and Buckets when you found out he had to train in like russia for an unsure amount of time

there was no way on contacting him too since you had no phone, no nothing

so he left. and you didn’t know what to do with yourself

ok flash forward noises

now you’re in high school! still... gripping onto that crush you have on sunghoon

but you think it’s fine since you are Functioning without him i guess

well until you bump into someone with a very familiar voice...

“watch where you’re going” talk about passive Aggressive 🤨

and when you look up because obviously you were gonna start yelling at him

well. You just froze in shock when you were faced with sunghoon’s raised eyebrow smirking at you

and what was the logical thing to do apparently?

cry. right in front of him.

he just froze as he watched you sob while everyone stared at him

he was trying to explain himself while at the same time Dragging you Away because he couldn’t let you just cry in the middle of the hallway

now you two were at the top of some stairway as you sniffled recovering from your endless crying

“why were you crying? “how could i not when you’re here?”

turns out that sunghoon Knew you were at the same school as him but wanted you to figure it out yourself

it took you almost six months. to figure out sunghoon was in your grade.

but what next? do you rekindle your friendship or...

“i’ve changed” okay maybe that answered your question

and before he could even explain himself he just... Got up and left????? for no reason

and that’s when tsundere sunghoon started to come into play.

you constantly tried talking to him but it would end up with the two of you bickering

you walked home the same way too

weirdly enough He was very nice to you sometimes

letting you place your head on his shoulder, lovingly smiling at you, being very Oddly romantic

he was giving you mixed signals.

and there came that old elementary school crush... gearing back up for a second round

“what are we?” now you decided being bold was the right thing to do

he just stared at you and shrugged.

now here comes the water works

you started crying uncontrollably Again but this time sunghoon looked really guilty and comforted you

he even hugged you. (Wow... Development)

he then explained to you that he Likes you (omg) but he’s scared that he might have to pack up and leave you again and he doesn’t want you to get too attached

and you’re like “we have each other’s numbers this time though?”

sunghoon’s just like Ohhhh

that’s how you started dating

and rekindled that elementary crush (successfully)

∷ sunoo — toilet-bound hanako-kun

being the bold and adventurous person you are. You decided to call onto your school’s very own ghost

because you had the biggest crush on this upperclassman you needed the support of a Spirit to help you

“ummmm hey... school spirit, i’m kinda in love with someone and i heard—” “hi” and then you fall onto the ground because something scares you

turns out the spirit’s name is sunoo and you just summoned him

it also turns out this spirit was kinda cute 😟

he had offered you something like a book — telling you if you follow all the rules — you’ll end up dating your crush

turns out it was just a middle school romance book you could of bought at dollar tree.

you were rightfully mad at him Since all you did was end up embarrassing yourself

somehow during your argument, your eyes caught a glimpse of something in his pocket

you took it. because you deserved it

and ATE IT when sunoo told you that it grants you any wish when consumed

you didn’t even need to listen to any of the disclaimers because it was already in your stomach

one things turns into another and now you’re a spiritually bound fish to sunoo.

turns out what you ate was mermaid scales and he needed to eat one too so you could turn human (he told you he can’t explain it because it’s a long story!)

you two are now bonded together (4lyfe 🥺🤞) and you aren’t that happy due to the fact he was always teasing you and playing around with you!!!!

you were now his human assistant.

you helped him with cleaning the toilets and he helped you by saving you from the supernatural

very well balanced relationship

you grew very fond of sunoo as time went on

even though you almost died a few times... he was always there to save you from whatever the spiritual world had to offer

i won’t spoil anything but... school spirit sunoo seemed to have a soft spot for you too 😇

you showed him your passion for art and everything like that

you tried to dodge questions about the... y’know... why he was a spirit

knowing that it would probably hurt him

plus he didn’t have all those things coming after him for nothing

falling in love with a ghost wasn’t what... you were expecting when you first joined your school

but i guess you had no choice since he was spiritually bound to you!

∷ jungwon — whisper of the heart

you loved the library dearly, you loved reading and writing— just books in general

your favourite place was a really big cosy library a few minutes away from your house

you had always borrowed more than three books every visit

and every time you would look at who borrowed the book, the same exact name would show up each book you borrowed

“yang jungwon... he seems to have good taste in books”

you would dreamily sigh thinking about what this jungwon looked like

later on in the week you were writing a story at the park— y’know, normal things

your friend called you out of the blue for some reason rushing for you to help them

out of panic you forgot your book on the bench and didn’t realise when you had finally finished helping out your friend

to your surprise there was already someone sitting on the bench

and Reading Your Very Own Story

you literally just run up to him and snatch it from his hands because you’re embarrassed!!!

what didn’t help was the fact that the first thing he did was Laugh in your face about it .

he called your story stupid!!! and critiqued it!!!!

you just bicker with him and complain to your friend about it later that night

the next day you thought that... maybe if you went to the library again you might spot this yang jungwon

so you make it your mission to get to the library

funnily enough your plan had failed in an instant when your eyes caught a cat that you just became curious about

you followed it because it just wouldn’t stop getting away from you

it also looked like it was taking you somewhere but 😦

after a tiring ten minutes of following this cat from hell and back. It brought you to this old antique shop

you instantly fell in love with the store and everything in it

you were so distracted by everything that you hadn’t realised someone was behind you

you could feel your eyes widen when you realised it was the same boy from the park

holding that same cat you were following too????

“why are you here?” his eyes literally started Squinting at you

he then proceeded to tell you about how his vocal lessons were nearby and more importantly that the cat was His

he asks you if you want to go visit where he does his lessons and Obviously being as curious as you were, you accepted

when he brought you there you could see his eyes instantly sparkle from just being there cute... kinda

he even started to sing for you and that’s when you thought that he wasn’t that bad

some of his teachers started to join in too and before you knew it, the sun was already gone and you’ve spent the whole time with some boy that you were supposed to hate

“jungwon, who’s your friend” your body Froze in shock when you heard that name

jungwon thought you were stupid for not knowing your name and now you realise you’ve been crushing on him this whole time

(i refuse to continue on more with this because it’ll be too long unless some of you want a oneshot of this 😍)

∷ ni-ki — haikyuu

being forced by your teacher to sign up to be some volleyball team’s manager was Not that fun to experience

but there you were, managing a volleyball practice of that very own team

thankfully, it was safe to say you had a good relationship with all of them

and an even Better relationship with a certain volleyball player

nishimura riki and you were practically glued to the hip

you were so incredibly thankful that he was the first one to speak to you when you first started becoming their manager

the rest of them were tall and scary but riki was just tall and friendly

he was so energetic and just So bright that you couldn’t help but look forward to seeing him every day you had practice

he would even teach you how to play volleyball

like he’d be like “isn’t this move so cool? let me teach you it!”

at this point you could be a professional volleyball player with the help of riki

you were overjoyed watching them win their final match to compete in the spring interhigh

you were also incredibly happy to know that riki scored the winning point

he couldn’t stop telling you about it and you just kept excitedly praising him and not to play favourites but you weren’t this excited when heeseung scored the previous winning point

even though you and your team were excited, you could feel how nervous they were when they entered the huge gymnasium

they were surrounded by all the best high school volleyball teams in the country

the very first team they went up against gave them a very Tough time

you remember sweating so hard when the scores were almost the same, the other team leading in that set

you decided that. Maybe you could help

“riki! you can do it” your shouting somehow caused riki to instantly become energised

everything was a blur up until your team had Won the match

and all because you gave riki some encouragement

he literally ran to you the second they had won and almost knocked you down

you didn’t wanna tell him that he was sweaty so you just let him carry on hugging you tightly

the rest of the team was like “why didn’t you cheer us on like you did with riki?”

and when you tried to explain your face just started heating up like crazy

so you ignored the subject.

riki just took it as he was your favourite

but what you didn’t want to tell them was the fact that you had a crush on him

as if it wasn’t obvious enough 😟

370 notes · View notes

marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Note

hi laurennnn. how about soft platonic!wandanat (like wanda and nat are in a relationship, reader isn't) taking care of the reader (who they've kinda taken under their wing) after she did something really stupid on a mission? i hope that makes sense

Happy WandaNat Wednesday!!!

Title: Breathing Again

Word count: 3k

Pairing: WandaNat x Platonic!Reader

Warning: a little sad, some fluff

A/N: Minimal editing so I do apologise! Mysh (mouse) Myshka (little mouse)

Gif owner @diegclila <3

For Alexis x @canarypoint

Breathing Again

The first thing you noticed was the pain, that sore aching pain that reached all over your body as you tried to adjust to the bright light as you awake, groaning at the sensitivity of your eyes that stare back at the white light. Your gaze flickers around the dark room trying to gather your senses, blurry outlines begin to focus as you notice a familiar figure curled up on the chair beside the bed you’re lying on. You swallow and lick at your dried lips.

“Wanda,” your voice rasped and croaked as you gained the tired witch’s attention watching her rouse to the sound of your voice. She moves quickly from her position once she notices you awake, her hands tentatively brushing your hair from your face as green eyes take in the almost healed bruises and scrapes that scatter across your skin.

“Shh sweetheart, here drink some water.” she instructs softly, her voice hushed as she moves to grab you a glass of water from the side table. She tilts the glass to your lips slowly allowing you to take in the cold liquid sighing in relief as you quench your dying thirst. Turning your head you watch her frantically move towards the door calling for someone as you frown still unsure of your whereabouts, she rushes back over to you and smiles reassuringly.

“What happened to me?” you ask, the events still a blur as you try to remember pieces of the mission. It was supposed to be a simple rescue job until an old rival of Tony’s decided to show up and stir up trouble causing the mission to go sideways, a second explosion had gone off close to where you were helping civilians escape out of the wreckage from the first hit unaware of the possibility of a second wave of explosions.

Wanda sits on the edge of the bed, her hand rubbing soothing strokes across your bicep. Watery eyes lock onto your own as you see her struggle to gather her words, before her gaze drops to her lap.

“You were almost out of the building when the second explosion went off, Nat tried to get to you she was screaming for you to retreat but you were too stubborn for your own good,” she pauses, as she raises a scolding eyebrow at you but her eyes remain soft and full of relief at seeing you awake and breathing; living. “There was a cry for help just south of the building and as you got them out the explosion hit and you- you tried to use your powers to deflect the force but you weren’t prepared for it and-” a sob escapes from her throat as you struggle to sit upright tilting your head to gain her attention again.

“I’m okay Wanda,” your words make her look up almost instantly, a small sad smile gracing her lips.

“Barely, we were told that your chances of coming around-” “Y/N!” Tony’s voice cuts off Wanda’s as he races in with a woman dressed in a white lab coat, her badge indicating her profession. She moves swiftly towards you shining a bright light in both of your eyes making you squint at the harshness, your body still coming around from what feels like a million years of slumber.

“Nice to see that you’ve come around, Y/N. I’m Doctor Jones, I’ve been looking after you while you’ve been here. Do you know where you are?” she asks, as if routine. “I uh- yeah. The hospital right?” you mumble, not overly confident with your answer. She smiles kindly at you as she nods in confirmation.

“That’s right and while we have been able to keep you stable, you’ve been through some major trauma alright so I need you to take it easy for me while we go through some routine check ups okay? Do you remember what happened to you?” she continues to ask questions as she checks over your vitals, moving with such ease and experience as Tony remains quiet next to her but still hovers close to the good doctor who seems to be irritated by his lack of personal space. From the expression on her face this isn’t the first time Tony’s been pestering her while you’ve been out, you frown at that thought.

“How long have I been out for?” your question makes them freeze, as Doctor Jones for the first time pauses as she writes on your chart, eyes flicker from one another. Wanda licks her lips as she looks away seeming to struggle with answering your question making you turn your attention to Tony. His shoulders slack as he stands a few inches away biting at his thumb nail.

“Two months and three days,” his words make your eyes widen as the machine next to you begins to bleep loud and fast.

“Two months!” you exclaim, your breathing becoming more erratic as you feel your chest tighten. Wanda seems to finally snap out of her tortured daydream as she focuses on your anxious form, her lips shushing you, her hands cupping your jaw as her thumbs brush across your cheekbones.

“Y/N. Listen to me, I need you to calm down okay?” she instructs, taking a deep breath in silently asking you to mimic her actions. A familiar routine that you’ve both done ever since your first anxiety attack after your first mission with the team. Her soothing efforts seem to work as Doctor Jones informs you that all your vitals seem to be all stable and that once you have been medically reviewed, you can be discharged home back to Avengers Tower.

Once the Doctor had left, Tony finally joined you and Wanda by the bedside sitting at the foot of the hospital bed. The pair caught you up on the past two months reassuring you that not a lot had changed, the lack of Natasha’s name didn’t go unnoticed by yourself though.

“Wait, what happened to Natasha?” the two share a look at the mention of the redhead assassin. Tony pats your leg and smiles softly.

“She’s fine, Kid.” he reassures, but Wanda’s distant look does nothing to calm your worries.

Since joining the Avengers you have become close to the assassin and the witch that sits beside you. The two had been dating for a while before you joined the team and became somewhat like mother’s to you, your mentors. Peter has Tony and you, well you had the two most badass women on your side. Moving away from your parents to live with the Avenger’s had been difficult at first, still trying to control your powers as well finding a way to fit into an already established team was hard but Natasha had been nice and warm towards you, teaching you the basics in hand to hand combat as well as weapons training while Wanda had taken you under her wing in the power’s department, having some power over certain elements yourself made you bond instantly with the witch. You had never been close to your parents, your abilities instantly labelling you as an outsider to them and the rest of your family but since being with the Avengers and having Natasha and Wanda look out for you, you finally felt a sense of belonging.

Biting your lip, you nod trying to convince yourself of his words.

***

Walking slowly into the shared common room, you allow Wanda to guide you gently into the living room space where some of the team wait impatiently for you. Peter spots you first, smiling brightly as he takes in your tired form. Jogging over to you, he gently takes you into his arms and squeezes lightly.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers, you squeeze your eyes shut to hold back on the tears. The realisation of just how close you were to losing your life becoming more prominent as you squeeze him back ignoring the pain that creeps up around your body at the tight pressure.

“Me too,” you whisper back, before pulling away and greeting the others. Your heart tightens as the emotions from the last two days start to surface as Thor is last to greet you, his gentleness surprising you at the usually strong and mighty God who doesn’t realise his own strength at times. As they step away to give you some room to settle down on the sofa, you can’t help but look around for the certain redhead. Wanda notices your search as she comes to sit next to you, the guys moving towards the kitchen to help prepare for dinner which only heightens your suspicions knowing that Steve is the only one allowed to cook in the kitchen after the last incident that involved the microwave, pop-tarts and Thor.

“Wanda, is Nat okay with me? Doesn’t she want to see me?” your voice leaving her no room to dodge your questions. She brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear as she searches for the right words.

“Nat is fine, Mysh. Of course she wants to see you, she just- after the doctor told us that you might not make it through, Nat kinda retreated into herself. She would sit for hours at your bedside, I was the only one besides Clint who could get her to eat and sleep. I only managed to convince her to come back here a few days before you woke to get some proper rest,” she pauses, as tears build in her eyes. “Y/N, you have to understand one thing about Natasha. She has always been taught that love is for children, that in itself closed her off to any kind of personal relationships with others even after leaving the red room. Since meeting Clint and then being here with us, she’s been able to let go of that old notion and genuinely open up to the possible idea of love and friendship, to me, to the team, including you, Little Mouse.” she grins as she calls you the familiar nickname that Nat gave you after you started training with her.

“Is she here? I’d like to talk to her,” you murmur, suddenly feeling the need to apologize to her for not listening to her during that mission but most of all needing to reassure her and see her for yourself. Wanda nods as she leans forward pressing a kiss to your temple.

“She’ll be in your room,” she informs you, a knowing look passes through her green eyes as you nod. You stand and head for the elevator that leads to the private quarters before pausing and quickly moving back to Wanda briefly wrapping your arms around her chest from behind leaning your head against hers for a moment.

“Thank you for looking after me,” you mumble, she pats your arms and smiles.

“Go and see Nat,” are her only words, making you salute her mockingly as she laughs.

***

Taking a deep breath in you allow yourself a moment as you take in the familiar hallway to your bedroom, observing the picture frames on the wall. Frames showing yourself with the couple on your birthday, cooking with Wanda and Peter in the kitchen and one from your latest sleepover with the two, face masks in place as you pull silly faces. You notice your bedroom door ajar as you peek through the gap noticing Natasha’s figure curled up on your bed as her shoulders remain rigid and stiff as she faces away from you.

“Wan, I’m not in the mood-”

“It’s me,” you cut in, watching her become tense at the sound of your voice. She quickly sits up from your bed and faces you, her face stoic as her blue eyes take in your form. Moving further into the room you decide to crouch in front of her placing your hands onto her knees.

“It’s me Nat, I’m home.” you whisper, fidgeting in place as your nervousness begins to take over. Her hands tentatively reach your cheeks cupping your jaw as her eyes assess the fading bruises.

“I am so angry with you,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her words as fear remains evident in her voice. Your lips twitch as tears begin to build in your eyes.

“I know and I’m so sorry I should have listened to you-”

“Damn straight you should have. Do you know how scared I was when I finally got to you? You were so pale and you wouldn’t wake-,” she trails off, as she continues to take in your face.

“Natasha I know I scared you-”

“Scared me?! I have never been so terrified in my life Y/N, do you understand how important you are to this team, to Wanda.. To me! I know how frightened your parents were when we told them, they threatened to have you transferred to the hospital back at home and for us to never see you again.” you try to interrupt to explain that you understood but she continues, the emotions from the last two months finally surfacing.

“You may not realise this, but we care about you... so much, Y/N. At first I was so angry with you for being so darn stubborn and not listening to me,” she confesses, standing to her feet as she begins to pace. You stand as well stepping back to allow her room to let out her frustrations folding your arms across your stomach.

“Nat, I understand how reckless I was okay? I’m sorry I don't know what else to say right now,” you murmur, suddenly regretting the decision to do this now as you begin to feel lightheaded. The day’s events slowly creep up on top of you as you close your eyes for a second trying to steady yourself. Natasha seems to notice your swaying state and reaches forward wrapping a protective arm around your waist, guiding you towards the bed.

“Are you okay, Myshka?” she asks, worry evident in her voice. “Lie down,” she instructs softly, making sure the pillows are plumped behind your head. You look up shyly at her feeling the dizzy spell surpass slightly.

“Will you stay with me? Since I pretty much slept for two months I’m scared that when I close my eyes I’ll-”

“I know, Kid. Scoot over then,” she bumps her elbow against your shoulder as she comes to lie next to you. Facing each other, you can see the conflict pass through her blue eyes as she brushes a thumb across your cheek, capturing an escaped tear.

“If you need to sleep, you can. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” she promises, watching as your eyes slowly start to close on command. Natasha continues to watch as your lashes flutter, a small smile spreading across her lips.

“How is she?” Wanda’s voice whispers from the doorway, Nat turns her head towards her girlfriend, her eyes softening.

“She was feeling a little woozy but I think she just needed some rest,” she explains, Wanda moves forwards and kisses Natasha briefly keeping her head close to the redhead for a moment.

“And how are you, my darling?” Natasha shrugs, turning to face you again as Wanda moves to lie on your other side smiling warmly as you seek her out even in your sleep, cuddling into her side.

“I’m doing okay, just knowing she’s here and safe it’s like I can suddenly breath again you know.” Wanda nods understanding her brief sense of loss and grief for you, the uncertainty of whether you would wake again still lingering. Natasha’s eyes rest upon your sleeping form as she continues to open up to the witch.

“I may not have the privilege of carrying a child but she gives me hope, that I can be that mother figure and not screw it up with my own past traumas,” Wanda smiles, as she glances down at you.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Just so you know she is grounded for the next three years,” Natasha’s vows, although the teasing glint in her eyes shows she only half means it, making Wanda chuckle.

“I think you’ll have to get in line because her parents are on their way here,” Wanda informs, squealing as you suddenly sit upright, eyes wide at the mention of your parents.

“Shit! My parents!” you exclaims, groaning as you hold the side of your head feeling a sudden headache coming on, Wanda pats your back in sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Mysh. We’ve got your back,”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat mutters, grumpily. You turn your head to face her, a pout in place knowing it’s never a good sign when Natasha sides with your parents.

“Have already told you how sorry I am?” you ask, innocently making Nat grin mischievously.

Two weeks later

“One large pizza for the still grounded teenager,” Wanda teases, as she enters her shared living room with Natasha holding two boxes of pizza.

You turn your head from your sitting position on the floor as the smell hits your nose, wiggling your fingers towards them as you reach out for the top box. Sticking your tongue out at the avenger for her comment, you open up the lid and take a big sniff humming in delight at the greasy goodness.

“I’m going to forgive you for that comment. The pizza saved you this time, Maximoff,” you warn jokingly at the brunette as Natasha comes to sit next to you on the floor, her back leaning against the sofa. Wanda places a few slices onto her plate before curling up onto the single seat, her eyes full of fondness as she takes you both in, watching as you slap Nat’s hand away from your pizza slices.

“You guys know we have a couch you can sit on, right?” she teases, as you and Nat shrug stuffing the slice into your mouths eyes focused on the television.

“Come on, babe. Don’t be boring and join us,” Natasha entices, her eyes full of mischief as Wanda scoffs shaking her head.

“You both eat like animals. I’ll stay over here with my half of the pizza thank you very much,” she huffs but the glint in her eyes shows her amusement.

You all continue to munch happily on the cheesy slices as you and Natasha make ridiculous comments about the reality TV show that plays on the flat screen making you both laugh. Wanda smiles fondly enjoying the peace and the very normal atmosphere; being a well known superhero with many enemies makes moments like this rare so she remains quiet, that small smile playing on her lips as she observes her two favourite people in this rare domestic bliss knowing there’s no other place she’d rather be.

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @natasharomanoffswife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#natasha romanoff x wanda #Wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #platonic!reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Remember us - part 5

Hello everyone....

Your weekly dose of angst is here... but in this part we have a bit of domestic fluff...

CW: mention of miscarriage and depression

-----

“Aelin, please.” His voice gruff with pain.

“I said get out.” She snarled at him from the bed.

Rowan moved a step towards her doing the exact opposite of what she had told him “I am not.” His arms folded at his chest “do you really think that being alone will help? That kicking me out will heal the pain of losing our daughter?”

Aelin sobbed hard and threw the pillow at him and he took the hit “don’t.”

“I lost her too. Will you accept that the pain is not only yours?” He shouted back “I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. And it fucking hurts because she was my baby girl too.”

“Stop…” her sobs grew in intensity “You have no idea of the pain.”

Rowan moved closer “No I don’t. I did not carry her in me for five months. I don’t know that pain.” He caressed her head “but she had a hold on my heart since the day you showed me the sonogram.”

“You are hurting me.” She said quietly looking away from him “and I need you to go.”

“Fireheart…”

“I said get out.” She shouted.

With his heart breaking, Rowan left the room.

Rowan woke up with a gaps, feeling the desperate need to get air in his lungs. He drew a hand on his face and felt tears. Had he been crying?

The memory was still vivid in his mind and it left him with unbearable anguish in his heart. In the dream he had felt both their pain. It had been real. His thumb reached for the ring on his fourth finger a gesture he had been doing a lot recently.

The memory had left him in a daze. How had they survived such deep pain? How could two people recover from such destructive sorrow?

But they did. Somehow their marriage had proven stronger than loss.

He sighed and took his phone to look at more picture of his family. He had so many that it took him a lot to go through them all. When he unlocked the phone he saw a text from Aelin sitting there, waiting for him.

Eagerly he opened it I am going back to work today, is it okay if I come and visit you?

Like a desperate man Rowan texted back as fast as he could please, it would make me very happy. The tv seems to be a very poor companion.

After he sent the text he realised his words had been true. He needed to see her.

Great. I am taking Tom to the nursery and I am on my way.

His lips tugged upwards in a smile. Then he made himself presentable. Aelin had brought him clothes and Evalin had brought some more so slowly and very carefully, he walked to the wardrobe. His right leg still getting used to have weight back on. Once he was done he went back to bed and fixed his ruffled hair. He was nervous. He had said to Evalin that his heart told him to try and that was what he was going to do. Apologise first. Then slowly start to get back to his old life. He knew it was going to be a tough ride but their time apart had increased that tug between them. He was afraid to admit that he had missed her daily visits.

Aelin arrived an hour later and as soon as she walked into his room, his heart raced.

“Hi you,” she said softly, still standing on the door.

He gave her a smile and with his head motioned to the chair. She took the offer and sat in front of him.

“Rowan—” she started but he stopped her.

“No, let me go first, please.”

Aelin nodded and he took a moment to gather his thoughts. This was his chance to right his stupidity.

“I am sorry for what I said.” He told her “but I need you to understand how frightening and overwhelming this is for me.” Pine green eyes met blue “memories have started to trickle back. Some happy some more painful, but they helped me understand us a bit better. When I married you I promised we would face this adventure together.” He took a deep breath “You said that life can be unpredictable and cruel but that at each other’s side we could conquer anything.” He told her grabbing the hand that was on the bed near his leg “what I am trying to say is that if you are happy to take back a husband in less than minted condition, I will be grateful for the help.”

Aelin stood and kissed his forehead “Yeah, yeah I will take you back.” She sobbed hard, standing in front of him.

“This is not going to be easy.

“I know.” She brushed his hair in a loving motion and the gesture felt familiar to Rowan “but our marriage has withstood far worse.”

“I know. I saw a memory of it.”

Aelin sat back down, the smile disappearing from her features “but you fought for us. Even when I was so broken that I was ready to give up everything. You brought us out of the darkness.”

“Yrene said they can let me go home in a couple of days but she needs to know that I have a place where to go.”

Aelin took his hand “you are coming home.”

Rowan was in Aelin’s car and together they were driving home.

He had been so nervous that he barely slept. In the past couple of days Aelin had visited whenever she could and had discussed the new challenge ahead. Evalin was going to stay. Thomas would go to nursery but Freyja would stay with her grandma. Rowan had agreed that he could not yet be trusted with being alone with an infant.

He was nervous about meeting their kids; Thomas in particular. He was the one who remembered him the most and did not want to break the boy’s heart.

Aelin had tried to explain to Thomas that his dad had been in hospital and unwell and that his memories had disappeared. Thomas had cried at the sadness of his dad not remembering him. She had told all of that to Rowan.

“I am terrified.”

“Don’t. Acknowledge Thomas, play with him. Even if you don’t remember things just go with it.”

Rowan sighed and then he saw Aelin park in front of a lovely detached house with a garden at the front, a swing set and a tree with a treehouse.

“The tree has a treehouse on it.” He noticed, admiring their house.

Aelin chuckled, “you built it for Tom last year. You two would sleep in there from time to time and pretend to be on some sort of incredible adventure.”

Rowan smiled and then opened the door of the car and grabbed his walking stick. Dorian had assured him that it was time to leave the crutches behind and use the stick. They had practiced together until he was comfortable with it.

Aelin grabbed his bag and joined him “let’s go, mum is making lunch and I am starving.”

“You are always hungry.” He said to her and Aelin stopped in her tracks.

“What did you just say?”

“It just came out, I am sorry.”

She turned fully to him and smiled “you said that to me a lot. Together with complaining about my diet.” She took his free hand “come on buzzard, time to meet our two terrors.”

As soon as they walked into the house and Aelin announced their arrival a little blonde hurricane crashed into him, grabbing his legs “Dad, you are back.”

Rowan looked down and saw his son with his arms wrapped around his legs, green eyes shining with happiness.

His hand brushed his blonde hair “I am.”

“Mum, can I play with him?” The boy asked eagerly grabbing his father’s hand.

“Later, Tom. Dad just got back. Give him some time.”

In that instant he noticed Evalin appear with a girl in her arms “welcome home, Rowan.”

“Thank you, Evalin.” He said, not being able to stare away from the little girl. She was his clone.

Freyja seemed to recognise him and leaned forward, extending her arms to him.

Rowan looked at Aelin almost as if to ask permission and she nodded. He took the girl and sat down on the sofa. Freyja’s head leaned on his shoulder and Rowan’s hand went to her back in a protective gesture. A moment later Thomas joined them and hugged his sister and a bit of his dad.

Aelin sobbed at the scene. They had both been scared. Both worried. Because Rowan had confessed her that hurting the kids was the last thing he wanted. But now looking at that precious moment, she realised they would be fine. Thomas was easy going and Freyja always had a deeper connection with her father. And she knew, from the way Rowan had taken his daughter in his arms that no memory loss would ever took away the bond they had.

“Hi, my love.” He whispered to the girl, inhaling her scent. Freyja snuggled closer. “Come to my side, Tom.” The boy grinned and climbed on the sofa and on his knees he turned to his dad and hugged them again “I missed you, dad.”

“Well, you need to tell me everything you did while I was away.”

Aelin’s hand went to her stomach and smiled tenderly at the man in front of her. He could not yet tell his son he had missed him so he had found a way not to disappoint him.

“Mum, you come too.”

Aelin brushed her tears away and sat on the arm of the sofa just beside Rowan. It was the first time they were that close. Rowan turned his head and stared in the depths of her blue eyes. His eyes moved down to her lips and then back up. That thread between them pulled hard and before he knew it, he was kissing her. His body recognising hers. He pulled away only when he heard Thomas disgusted sounds.

Aelin stared at him with an expression he could not decipher. Maybe she was mad at him for kissing her? But it felt right. In his soul, kissing her had been right.

“You cheeky monkey.” Aelin stood and grabbed Thomas and started tickling him and the boy and Aelin’s laughter was the best music for Rowan’s ears.

After lunch was over the kids had gone out for a walk with their grandma and Aelin had given him a tour of the house. Rowan was impressed. They had a lovely house with four bedrooms and spacious enough to welcome a big family.

“You lost your parents when you were 20. They left you a nice stash of money that you never used. When we got married you used that money to buy this house. Our home.”

She sat at his side on the sofa, with a cup of herbal tea in her hands.

“I am sorry I kissed you. I should have asked first. I am sorry.” He looked away embarrassed at his gesture.

Aelin placed the tea on the table then grabbed his face with her hand and turned to him “Ro, you are my husband. You don’t have to ask for permission to kiss me.”

“I know, but I don’t know where we stand on that aspect of us.” He explained looking at her “I don’t know where I stand. I kissed you because it felt right, but I don’t think I can go any further right now.”

Aelin nodded “of course.” That was probably their last big challenge. There was so much to deal with right now that sex was very low on her priority list although her hormones were having another opinion and that kiss had awoken in her the need for him, she had to be patient “but you can kiss me anytime and without asking, if you feel like it.” And winked at him.

He gave her a smirk that was so familiar that for a moment she felt like Rowan was truly back.

She stared into his pine green eyes while her hand was still on his cheek and then she moved and her lips met his and Rowan did not pull away. He just stood for a moment but then his mouth parted and opened for her and Aelin, at the invitation, deepened the kiss feeling the need to connect with him again.

Rowan froze for an instant at the kiss but as she did not move away he let it happen and slowly he melted in the feeling of her lips on his. Aelin’s hand sneaked on his back, pulling him closer and as Aelin deepened the kiss Rowan felt a strange feeling surge in him. Was it passion? It burned in him that strange desire and when Aelin’s tongue brushed his a moan left Rowan and he pulled back, not sure about what was happening between them.

When they pulled apart they were both breathless and Aelin caressed his face and smiled “it looks like this part between us hasn’t changed.”

Rowan lifted an eyebrow and Aelin chuckled “the fire between us. Before we had the kids we sometimes spent entire days off in bed.”

The top of Rowan’s ears turned red and she giggled and kissed him again and Rowan this time did not hesitate and her hands sneaked under his t-shirt and after a few more minutes of their make out session Rowan pulled back and stared deeply at her “you are stunning,” he whispered. He had thought that from the beginning. Rowan leaned back on the sofa and Aelin snuggled closed to his chest, inhaling deeply his scent and his arm went around her back.

“If you are uncomfortable, you tell me.” She said to him, her hand close to his heart.

Rowan shook his head “this feels nice.” His head turned to her “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right.”

“Hold me.”

And Rowan pulled Aelin to him, enveloping her in his strong arms.

He thought that perhaps, with her at his side, not everything was lost.

He closed his eyes and welcomed his dreams.

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelinkids #aelin galathynius #evalin galathynius #rowan x aelin #angst #domestic fluff

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

my happy ending [two] // kara danvers

summary: the secret Kara has been putting off for months finally comes to light, leaving you both in a precarious situation

warning/s: mentions of a breakup (let's be honest, this isn't a spoiler lol)

author's note: here’s the second part! hope you like it :)

part one | masterlist | wattpad

It had been a few months since Kara and I said 'I love you' and it was around that time when things between us were moving forward. We were still going strong and I had never been in love with someone as much as I was with her. No relationship I'd had in the past was as amazing as it was with Kara – she was magnificent.

I was sure nothing would get in the way of us; we were going strong and despite small, petty arguments we'd had in the past, we'd never truly fell out over something. I couldn't imagine us doing so either, because our relationship was built on honesty and trust. What could possibly break us up?

I was in charge of all social media content for CatCo, so I wasn't one who usually went with reporters to cover stories. In fact, I rarely did unless it was to help a colleague, like now. My friend, Cara, was covering a story at L-Corp – something science-y to do with the labs. I wasn't too into the details, but she didn't want to go alone, so she asked me to accompany her.

So, that's where I found myself now, standing with Cara as she was being shown around the labs of L-Corp by a scientist.

Cara was a professional, asking question after question and digging for the nitty gritty details in which the scientist would try to avoid. It was pretty cool to witness.

"So, that's everything we're working on so far," the scientist finished the tour, stopping by some glass doors.

"What's in there?" I asked, nodding behind the scientist.

The woman glanced behind her before forcing a small smile. "That's something I shouldn't discuss."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Seriously? Now I definitely want to know."

"Look, this isn't a scrutinising article," Cara explained, her voice sounding convincing. "We're not trying to uncover L-Corp's secrets. The last thing we need is another 'evil Luthor' recycled news story."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I still can't share what's in there," the scientist said, apologetically.

"Off the record?" Cara offered, and I could sense her curiosity, too. "We won't tell anyone. I won't report it."

The scientist seemed reluctant. "It's not a secret, I can tell you both. But it's just, you're the media..."

"Technically, she's the reporter," I pointed out, literally pointing to Cara, who smacked me in the arm.

"C'mon, we'll sign an NDA or whatever," Cara promised.

After some puppy dog eyes and pouting, the scientist (whose name I couldn't remember) gave us some NDAs to sign before finally taking us inside the glass room.

"As you know, we manufacture many different products," she explained, leading us to a desk with some microscopes on. "We're working on recreating Kryptonite."

I furrowed my brows. "That's that stuff that Supergirl and Superman have right?"

"Their weakness," the scientist corrected. "We've managed to recreate the properties of Kryptonite and can use it in case of an attack from Kryptonians."

"But the only Kryptonians we know of are Superman and Supergirl and they would never attack," Cara stated with confusion.

"Not necessarily true," the scientist said. "Remember Astra?"

"The woman who tried to kill us all at the start of the year? Yeah, we remember," I replied, shivering at the memory.

"It's for cases like that," she explained. "It's not a big deal, but we're keeping it on the down low to avoid public scrutiny. As you said earlier."

Cara nodded and began to look through the microscope, studying the Kryptonite on the slides. I looked at the green glowing rock beside the microscope, picking it up and wondering how something so beautiful looking could be so dangerous to an alien.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

I looked up at the scientist. "I guess. This stuff really kills Kryptonians?"

"Too much can, yes," she answered. "Small doses can inflict pain, and manageable doses can strip them of their powers, making them similar to a human. This piece you're holding is a highly-concentrated dose."

"Best keep this far away from National City's only hero then," I joked, feeling a tad uncomfortable that I was holding such a powerful object.

I placed the Kryptonite back on the desk and tapped Cara. She got the hint and concluded the tour.

Cara and I headed back to CatCo after and she thanked me for accompanying her to the tour. It wasn't a big deal, so I smiled and left her be to write it up, promising to give it a read before she submitted it.

I decided to head to Kara's afterwards, seeing as she was working from home today. I brought some food – her favourite, Potstickers – to surprise her, and knocked on with a smile on my face. Just the thought of seeing her got me all giddy, like a little kid.

"It's open!" Kara called out from the other side.

I rolled my eyes playfully and walked into her flat, setting the food on the kitchen counter. "What did I say about leaving your door unlocked, Kara? It could have been anyone!"

Kara grinned from her position at the dining table, standing up to approach me. "But I knew it was you and– ah!"

I furrowed my eyebrows when I saw Kara stumble over her feet when walking towards me.

"Kara, what is it?" I asked, moving forward to help, but when I touched her, she pushed me away and held the table for support. "Kara!"

I looked closely and realised her veins were glowing bright green. That could only happen if...

"Wait a minute," I said, staying stood still as she gulped hard, still hunched over with pain. "You're in pain... and that can only happen if you've been in contact with–"

"Kryptonite!" she cut me off breathlessly, before staring at me with startled eyes.

I stepped back, feeling my heart drop to my stomach. "You're a Kryptonian."

"Why do you have Kryptonite?!" she questioned, still clutching the table and cowering away from me.

I shook my head, still in awe. "I was at L-Corp and we saw some Kryptonite... but only Kryptonians are affected, and there's only two known Kryptonians on Earth... Superman and..."

She avoided my eyes and that's when my suspicion was confirmed. I felt my mouth go dry as I looked at Kara carefully. Her glasses, that was it. That was the only thing separating her from her other identity, her other life. How could I have missed that?

"I've gotta go," I got out finally, my throat closing up.

"Y/N, please wait," she said desperately, stepping forward, but she stopped herself when overcome with pain. Her skin was glowing green now and I realised that there was still Kryptonite residue on me from that highly-concentrated piece I held earlier.

I turned around and left, feeling my heart beat fast in my chest. Kara was Supergirl. I didn't know what to feel because that very fact was still trying to sink in.

I had no choice but to go back to CatCo after, needing to get the rest of my work done for today. But I couldn't concentrate because of what I'd just discovered. Kara was Supergirl. She was an alien. She had a whole other life I didn't know about.

My phone kept getting notifications from Kara – she wanted to explain herself, but she couldn't see me until she was sure the Kryptonite residue had dispersed. I didn't care about that anyway, I didn't want to see her right now. I wasn't sure what I would say if I did – she'd hidden this from me!

I thought we had something special and unique. I thought I'd finally found someone, something, indestructible. I thought I knew Kara inside and out, I wanted to believe I did. But I was wrong. She was pretending this whole time.

I went home after work, leaving a little early because I wasn't actually getting anything done. I was confused, lost, unsure what to do with this information. Kara was Supergirl. When she disappeared randomly, that's probably why. When she would sneak off with James and Winn... they probably knew, too. It seemed that everyone important to her knew. But I didn't. Maybe I wasn't as important to her as I thought.

When I reached my flat, I saw Kara leaning against the doorframe. She perked up when she saw me, clearing her throat.

"Y/N," she muttered, her voice breaking.

I wanted to ignore her, but I couldn't. I simply stared at her, noticing her red, teary eyes and puffy face that were hidden behind her glasses, the same ones that had hidden her identity. It was literally right in front of me and I hadn't noticed. She hadn't shared it with me. I was so sure we would last. A relationship built upon honesty and trust. Huh. What a joke.

"I don't want to speak to you right now," I said as calmly as I could muster, before fumbling with my keys.

"Y/N, please, I know you're angry, but I need to explain to you," she said desperately. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It's too late for that," I mumbled, swallowing down the lump in my throat before managing to slot the key in the hole and push open my door.

"I'm sorry," she said, following me inside. I rolled my eyes as she watched me with a guilty expression. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"It seems that you didn't want me to find out at all!" I snapped at her, slamming the front door and spinning around to face her. "I found out by accident, Kara. You lied to me. You didn't trust me."

"I do," she tried, but I shook my head, disguising my hurt with irritation.

"No, you don't, otherwise you would have told me," I stated. "I feel stupid for not figuring it out sooner."

"I'm sorry–"

"I don't want to hear it!" I cut her off. "At first, maybe you didn't trust me enough to tell me, that's fine. Then we admitted we liked each other and okay, fair point, you didn't know if we would last so you didn't want to tell me. It's fine, understandable even, that you didn't tell me. But then we told each other we loved each other. And that could have been your chance. But no. You kept pretending that I actually meant something."

"I wasn't pretending!"

"If you weren't, then I would mean something to you, Kara. I would be important enough in your life to have known the truth!" I shouted, my vision blurry with tears. "You let me fall in love with you! Believing we could go somewhere when this whole time, you were living a whole other life! And apparently everybody else knows but me! Right? I presume that's why you're always hanging out with Winn and James?"

She stayed quiet, watching me with tears streaming down her face, but I couldn't care less. She was hurting me.

"Get out," I said, breathing out.

"Y/N–"

"I said get out," I repeated, glaring at her.

She nodded slowly, looking down to her shoes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N..." She walked past me, and I didn't turn around until I heard the door close.

I released a shaky breath, closing my eyes as tears fell. So much for a happy ending.

–

A lot can happen in a month, which is funny because it goes by quite quickly.

That's how long it had been as I tried to come to terms with how I felt about Kara hiding a big part of her life from me. I couldn't just forgive her and pretend it didn't hurt. The more I thought about it – which was a lot, as much as I tried not to – the more I felt like an idiot.

I was in love with somebody who I truly believed was my perfect someone. I believed she was everything to me, but she was pretending the whole time. I was convinced God was out there, letting me know not to get too attached, too safe with someone, because I would just be setup for disappointment.

Obviously, seeing as Kara and I worked in the same office, it made for, well, pretty much every day an awkward encounter. I tried my best to avoid her presence, which I thought wouldn't be too difficult, but gosh it was. It was like she was everywhere I went – the photocopier, the coffee machine, the toilets. It was infuriating, especially because I began to miss her a lot.

I had to put up with avoiding her eyes and stares from across the room for a long time. I knew she wanted to speak with me, because at first she tried to, but then she gave up and I think everybody knew. Nobody in the office brought it up, but it was obvious they knew, judging from the tension in the air when we were around each other.

And if all of that wasn't enough, it didn't help that I was reminded of Supergirl pretty much every day. She was all over the news and it was literally in my job description to tweet about her when I could. Seeing her – Kara – in all of those photos, reading about how she was literally saving people's lives... it hurt. She didn't trust me enough to tell me about all of it. Was it something I'd said? An impression I gave that made her deem me untrustworthy?

I didn't know anymore. I just knew that by the end of the month, my heart ached more and more, craving for the arsehole that was Kara Danvers. I refused to admit it at first, but when I kept finding myself searching for the blonde around the office, I knew I'd finally accepted what had happened. I wanted her back. I missed her.

It took a while to find the guts to go forward with this, but when I did, I tried to find Kara at work. She wasn't at her desk and nobody had seen her around. I did a quick search around, calling her name, but nothing. Only, when I was on my way into the hallway, I found her standing by the coffee machine. She wasn't alone.

The new-ish guy, Mike or whatever, was stood with her, pretty close to her side, his hand resting on hers on the table.

I knew I had no right – I'd literally blown her off for a whole month – but my heart began to ache at the sight. Whatever they were talking about must have been important. She was staring at him like he had hung all the stars in the sky. Unless that's just what I saw, I wasn't sure. I just knew that I hated it.

The two of them turned around when they heard me call Kara's name and I froze, meeting Kara's eyes for the first time in a long time.

"Y/N?" she breathed out, surprise in her voice and expression.

I licked my lips, backing up. "Sorry, I– sorry. I left it too late. I'll go," I mumbled, my voice breaking.

"No, Y/N, wait!" she tried, but I'd already turned on my heel and speed-walked away.

I felt my eyes tear up like an idiot as I walked away. Of course she'd moved on. Why wouldn't she? I'd wasted her time.

"Y/N, please wait," her voice broke me from my self-pity, and she stopped in front of me, eyes searching mine. "Let me explain."

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I said, clearing my throat. "You don't need to explain anything, Kara. I– I made you wait too long without saying anything. You don't owe me anything." I sucked up a shaky breath and avoided her eyes. "I've gotta go, sorry."

I didn't give her chance to respond, not wanting to hear her comfort me out of pity or obligation, and instead pushed her out of the way before leaving abruptly.

I just felt like an idiot.

–

I sat at my kitchen counter and opened the pizza box, tucking in there and then instead of getting a plate. I was tired, upset and wished today was over with.

After seeing Kara with Mike earlier on, I felt embarrassed and couldn't wait for my day to be over with so I could sulk over a box of pizza. I guess I should have seen it coming, since I practically pushed her away and gave her no benefit of the doubt. I deserved it, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.

As I was halfheartedly eating my pizza slice, I heard a knock on the door and groaned inwardly. I really couldn't be arsed with the company.

"Go away," I called out, hoping they'd take the hint.

"Y/N? It's me."

I groaned loudly this time, recognising the voice as Kara's. I paused, glancing at the door, debating whether to tell her to go away. But I realised I'd have to face her eventually, and she was way too stubborn to take my word and leave.

With a heavy sigh, I dropped my pizza slice into the box and wiped my hands on my jeans before going to answer the door. Kara was standing there with a small smile on her lips as I avoided her eyes, cheeks growing warm.

"Hey," she said softly.

I nodded awkwardly. "I– er– hi..." I swallowed hard, saying, "Look, if you're here about earlier today, I'm really sorry, Kara."

"No, you don't need to apologise," she was quick to reply. "It wasn't what you thought, I–"

"You don't need to explain," I cut her off, finally lifting my eyes to meet hers. I didn't want her to explain it. "It's your business. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

Her eyes softened as she clearly had more to say. "Can I come in? Please?"

I would have rather ended the conversation there, but the part of me that missed her deeply was telling me to let her in. Next thing I knew, I was stepping to the side and letting her come in, hoping she couldn't hear the racing heartbeat in my chest.

"Mike isn't just the new guy," she said when I closed the door. "His name is Mon-El. He's an alien."

"Kara–"

"He's an alien and I've been helping him to settle into living on Earth," she cut me off, continuing hurriedly. She held my gaze, not giving me chance to interrupt. "Supergirl has been helping him. That's all it is. That's all it'll ever be."

I pressed my lips together, nodding slightly to show her I understood. Her shoulders relaxed and I felt a bit more at ease now myself. She wasn't moving on. Or at least, not with him.

"I didn't know that because I pushed you away," I admitted, frowning. "I didn't give you a chance... I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise," she insisted, shaking her head.

I smiled sadly. "I get it could be too late, but–"

"It's not too late," she said quickly, eyes glistening with hope. "I... I was waiting."

I felt butterflies in my stomach as I felt my embarrassment return. "I needed time, that was it." I sighed to myself as I began to pace uncomfortably. "It was silly, really, how I didn't realise the truth. Everybody else knew and I... I should have known."

"Don't say that," she said, and I felt her hand grab my arm reluctantly. I stopped and faced her, seeing her shaking her head. "I didn't mean for you to feel like that. It wasn't your fault, Y/N, it was mine. I should have told you. I wanted to tell you."

I couldn't help but feel betrayed again. "But you didn't."

She let go of my arm and frowned. "It just happened that Winn was the first person I told. And James already knew because of Superman. And then I wanted to tell you next, but being Supergirl was hard at first. It was demanding. And being Kara with somebody who didn't expect anything more was nice. It was selfish, but I had you. And I wanted to tell you after, but I was scared. And once again, I was selfish because I knew I was falling in love with you and I didn't want to scare you away because of this lie."

I swallowed the lump in my throat as she searched my eyes for something.

"It got out of hand and I was in way too deep," she admitted regretfully. "You won't believe me, but I did want to tell you, Y/N. But now you know. And I know you hate me, but I wish you didn't because I am truly sorry I ever hurt you. I never wanted that."

"I don't hate you," I told her, eyes glassy with tears. "I don't think I could hate you even if I tried, Kara."

"I love you," she whispered, a tear slipping from her eye.

I couldn't stop myself as I pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her tight. I had missed her so much and to have her back in my arms was a blessing, even if it hurt me at the same time.

"I don't completely trust you right now," I muttered truthfully, before pulling away and holding her close.

"I understand," she said, nodding and sniffling.

"But I love you, too," I added, knowing that deep down I couldn't stop. "I want to be with you, Kara. You mean too much to me."

She seemed confused as she furrowed her eyebrows. "What does this mean?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'd like to start again, but go slow. I still care about you and seeing you with Mike– Mon-El– whatever, made me realise that I can't see you being with somebody else."

"I'll earn back your trust," she promised, tucking a strand of her behind my ear. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I know you didn't," I said, grabbing her hand and kissing it gently. "And I know you will."

She smiled through her tears and I felt my heart beating quickly again, glad I had her back. I moved forward for another hug, relaxing into her arms as she squeezed me comfortingly.

We'd get through this. She was still my happy ending, Supergirl or not.

#kara danvers x you #supergirl x you #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #supergirl #kara danvers #melissa benoist

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spideyspeaches · 4 years

Text

We always have been ↬ fem!p.p

A/N: AHHH I love genderbent Peter skjkjhjka and I’ve only seen @justme--emily write for her so far so I wrote one of my own 😤

Summary: It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience.

Warning: um cursing lol.

Pairing: female!Peter Parker x Harry Osborn

WC: 2k

When Mister Stark had asked her to attend one of those glorious charity galas, Penny had been elated, internally (and externally) jumping at the thought of wearing fancy gowns and walking past pretentious rich bureaucrats and business people.

She was practically lost in paradise when Miss Potts had accompanied her to shop for her dress, a beautiful blue and red full length gown, hugging her in her curves with a chinese collar neck and embroidered bust (very on brand of her).

“Is your dress comfortable? Oh god I think I should have altered it myself, it’s not too tight right?” May fretted, fixing her hairdo and last minute make up she learnt from makeup hacks videos. Groaning, Penny nudged May by her shoulders, sitting her down on her twin bed, holding her aunt’s cheeks.

“May, the dress is comfortable! Miss Potts made sure that it was altered to my size okay? Now calm down, it’s just one night.” She smiled, folding her hands under her chest. Her dress was truly comfortable, and she looked undeniably good, she checked (she was a nerd, yes, but she wasn’t blind. Especially now that she had 20/20 long vision due to her spider powers.)

“You know how I feel about you going to fancy parties, baby.” May sighed, making her wince, “the last time you went to prom ended in a disaster. Both of them”

“I know May, but on the bright side, it gained me an actual paid internship. And Mister Stark and Miss Potts are going to be present the whole time!” She reassured, squeezing her aunt’s shoulders. In all honesty, she understood her anxiety, shuddering as she remembered her prom fighting Liz’s dad, and then breaking up with Harry, “besides, I have my spidery powers remember? I’m a big girl May, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can sweetheart, god look at you all grown up, Ben would be so proud of how much you’ve grown, my little woman.” May sniffed, getting up to caress her head. She shook her head at her aunt’s emotional state, smiling as she bowed her head at the nickname. It was something Ben used to call her- little woman.

“Ben would be proud of you too May.” Penny said, willing her eyes to not water at the sudden rush of sentiment she felt at the mention of her deceased uncle.

“Now, shoo before I change my mind and keep you all to myself!” May laughed, fixing the non existent crease near her shoulders.

“Okay okay! I’m going May, jeez it’s like you and Mister Stark are holding a shared custody of me.” Penny snickered, scrambling to wear her uncomfortable heels, the ones that matched her dress.

“Maybe I am, but I get to be the primary guardian!”

Laughing, she gave her aunt a kiss to her cheek, doing a preliminary check of her cell phone and emergency bracelet, blowing her a kiss before walking into the car that was standing outside their apartment.

The car ride was silent, her stomach bubbling with nervousness and excitement. She was practically vibrating in her seat, glad that Tony had sent another driver instead of Happy- he would have teased her incessantly for being so nervous. She had grown close to Happy, the man growing fond of her as well, but he could be an embarrassing dad at times.

The gala was everything she had imagined, brightly lit in an overpriced hall, adorning overpriced decorations with people in overpriced clothes.

“Hey Mister Stark! Thank you so much for inviting me!” She grinned, skipping towards her fath- mentor.

“Hey Pen, wow don’t you look beautiful. A little too beautiful, beware of those good for nothing boys you hear me?” Tony smiled, hugging her, a protective hand on her shoulder.

“Oh don’t mind Tony, hun, he’s only joking.” Pepper said, giving her a kiss on her cheek and doing a once over, just like May had.

“I’m serious Pep, if those boys even tried anything, you call me okay? I’ll take care of them.”

“Mister Stark, you can’t just threaten teenagers.” Penny giggled, looking at Pepper with a smirk.

“Barely a teenager kiddo, why did you grow up so fast?” He smiled, a fond look in his eyes.

“I’m nineteen Mister Stark, I think I can take care of those boys themselves.”

“Hell yeah you can, that’s my girl.”

Easy for her to say, because not long after that, Mister Stark and Pepper had abandoned her to talk to some prominent dealer about some… deals concerning Stark Industries, she didn't ask.

By the end of an hour, she was already bouncing on her heels, bored out of her mind. Even the Avengers could entertain her only so much, going back to their important work. And

Penny was an awkward girl, always finding herself in situations she was unwilling to participate in, so socialising was out of question.

She remembered the one time she had accidentally spilled coffee all over Mister Stark’s touch sensitive keyboard, stuttering the whole time. He hadn’t even been mad, reassuring her that he had done that enough times before, hence the liquid resistant keypads.

And then there was that one time the school nurse had called Tony when she was experiencing period induced fever. That was embarrassing, if not a little heartwarming to know that he cared about her enough to confront Pepper about menstrual problems. She was his daughter in everything but blood, he reminded her that every day, though not verbally.

There was also this one time she had been caught kissing MJ, but none of those were going to top what she was facing right now.

Literally.

“Penny! Penny Parker?” Harry’s chirpy voice rang in her ears, his footsteps sounding increasingly closer as she tried to hide her face behind her (non alcoholic) drink, frantically walking towards the vague figure of Mister Stark as fast as she could with her overly expensive stilettos.

It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience.

Finally standing near Mister Stark, she tried to stand next to him, ignoring the weird look he was giving her. Penny was petite, always has been small for her age, so she was glad Mister Stark could cover her with his side. Apparently he got her cue, as he shifted slightly to hide her from whomever’s view.

“What’s wrong Pen? Some pesky boy chasing you? Accidentally met your ex?” He joked, giving the old businessman in front of him a handshake and smirking at her with amusement.

“Something like that.” She shrugged casually, snickering at Tony’s wide eyes.

“Penny! Hey it’s me, Harry.” He said, nearly standing behind her. He was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave, weaving his way through the crowd to stand right in front of her. He probably hadn’t noticed her clinging to Tony, which is why he came forward, a big goofy grin playing on his handsome face, sending her heart into a frenzy, his blue eyes shining under the gleaming lights.

“Uh, h-hey Harry.” She grimaced, elongating his name with a chuckle. Shuffling forward, she ignored Tony’s raised eyebrows, opening her mouth to speak, but all she could look at was Harry Fucking Osborn standing in front of her, “Um, small world?”

Her words sounded distant to her, heart heart a lump in her throat. She felt underprepared for these situations. Sure, they had broken off on a semi- good note, but it didn’t make whatever this was any less awkward.

“Small world indeed.” He said, much softer than before, a solemn expression taking over his face, “It’s not every day you get to meet Penelope Parker in a Stark Gala. Heard of your internship by the way, I knew you were smart enough to get it.”

“Oh, thanks about that. I guess you’re an unwilling guest here? Haven’t seen Mr. Osborn around.” She smiled shyly, shuffling on her feet.

“Yeah, kind of, I mean you know how he is.” He shrugged.

“How long have you two known each other?” Tony interrupts the two, watching in amusement as both his pseudo daughter and Norman’s son blush under his gaze, as if just noticing his presence.

“Uhm, Hi Mister Stark! B-big fan, hi oh my god Penny I’m standing in front of Tony Stark.” Harry stuttered, shaking Tony’s hand for a little too long.

Staring at him with confusion, he shook Harry's hand back, silently asking Penny the lingering question.

“He’s a bit of a fanboy.” She answered.

Harry was still looking at Stark with his wonderstruck expression.

“Well it’s always good to meet my fans, but you didn't answer my question, kid. How do you two know each other?” Tony said, smiling as politely as he could while his hand was still stuck in Harry’s grip.

Realising that, he instantly let go, standing awkwardly as him and Penny said at the same time-

“I’m her ex boyfriend-”

“He’s my best friend.”

His eyes widen, realising what he had just said.

“You guys dated? And when were you going to tell me about that Pen?” Tony asked, baffled at the thought of Penny dating a guy, and Osborn’s son of all people.

“Well, you see, I was going to tell you soon, but then we broke up. You know? We haven’t talked since.” Penny said, the last sentence directed towards Harry. She was looking at him now, gritting her teeth.

“Well did you expect me to call you after you dumped me? During prom nonetheless? I was ashamed, Pen, I couldn’t do it.” Harry said, looking apologetic. It made her heart clench, inherent guilt building up in her tummy. It was her fault, technically.

“Yeah but, Harry you were my best friend before my boyfriend, and I missed you okay? You could’ve at least called.” She defended. Tony was good at reading the room, so sensing a banter building, he quietly left the area, not wanting to witness the misunderstanding.

“I really missed you too Penny, I- I didn’t think I was good enough for you, gosh I really fucking love you.” He said, immediately stiffening.

Even back when they were dating, they had never said the L word to each other, not even when they were best friends, and now? Well he had just made the air more thicker than before.

“You- you what?” She asked, voice small as her heart jumped. She moved closer to him, holding her hands out, reaching to touch his shoulders. Her hands set on his silky tuxedo, she stroked her hands in a slow motion, dropping them immediately when she realised she was touching him.

“I really fucking love you Penny, even if you don’t want to get together, can we still be friends? Go back to our movie nights and lego sessions?” He asked, furrowing his brows as if to keep himself from crying.

No words left her mouth, her breath hitched when he moved forward, chest stuttering. With a sudden confidence she didn’t know she had, she leapt forward, capturing his lips in hers. Their lips moved with a sync, his familiar ocean scented deo invading her nostrils, his soft skin against her. The world around her melded in a technicolour blob, the only thing she could focus was his heartbeat echoing in her ears.

“I really fucking love you too by the way.” She said, pulling away from the kiss. She vaguely spotted Miss Potts in her periphery, shaking her head with a smile as she held back Mister Stark.

“So, are we friends then?”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“We are more than friends, you dumbass. We always have been.”

I’m a thirsty bitch, pwease give me feedback? 🥺🥺

#peter parker x harry osborn #harry osborn x peter parker x reader #harry osborn #female peter parker #female peter parker x harry osborn #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #tony stark #spiderman #spider woman #spideygirl writes

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xfeelxngs · 2 years

Text

the neighbour guy (pt. 1)

Let me tell you a little story about this special guy that I met five months ago.

So, I basically did something younger me would never consider doing which was play with dating apps. I was going through a pretty rough breakup and was pretty down ever since. Until my friends jokingly suggested for me to download b****e and me being the risk-taker that I am, I took that opportunity.

To be completely honest, playing dating apps sure does boost up your ego and confidence hehe... Anyways, after a couple of swipes and conversations with very friendly guys, I came across a guy named Sam with a cute bio mentioning his pro’s and con’s and with one of his con’s being, “makes deez nutz jokes” and I kid you not, I burst out laughing and thought to myself, “this guy has a funny humour, I’m sure we’ll get along very well”

After having a lovely conversation with him, we both realised that we lived in the same neighbourhood and of course we immediately planned a meet up since we’ve been neighbours ever since we were kids. The funny thing is, as a kid i used to drive by his house a lot with my grandma. Who would’ve thought I would match with my neighbour huh?

Fast-forward to a few weeks later, I thought to myself, “let’s see if in the first three weeks of getting to know each other, he ghosts me not long after.” And of course I waited to see if I was right or not but as you saw from the first sentence of this post, we never stopped talking & texting ever since.

To answer your question, no we are not in a relationship. It’s pretty complicated to be honest, the reason why we are not at that stage is because he’s leaving to go to Germany soon and he wasn’t sure if he could handle a ldr so we both agreed to let things flow and see how it goes in the end. Deep down inside my heart I always expect things to happen but I reminded myself to not be selfish and to respect his wishes.

You guys should know that we basically do couple activities, crazy right? I won’t get into details but you get the idea of what we do right? Better be wholesome activities that you’re thinking of! But you know what, despite not being in a relationship with him, no one has ever healed me from my trust issues until he came into my life.

A little back story to my past love experiences, I’ve been cheated on, lied to, manipulated, and so much more, by multiple guys. No one knows the deepest and darkest parts of my relationships and it sucks since no one could understand the immense pain that I went through. The trust issues got so toxic that it started to effect everyone around me. It affected my relationship (with my recent ex) and my friendships. I genuinely thought I could never trust anyone anymore but Sam... He’s different.

God, Sam has made me realised that what I was asking for in the past wasn’t considered as “asking for too much.” He has seen my at my best and at my absolute worst, but despite me being a very annoying and short-tempered girl friend, he stayed. He loved me for my flaws and I love him for his. Back then I was the type to wanna know what they’re doing 24/7 because I had a feeling something suspicious was happening behind my back that I didn’t know about, but with Sam, I could literally let him go out the whole day and tell him to just text me when he wakes up and when he sleeps. I’ve done that and (yeah after 1 or two overthinking sessions with my best friend) I felt comfortable the whole time.

I guess the thought of him being happy makes me happy too. One of the things that I love about him is when he stayed over at his friend’s house and he texted me every time he’s about to drink or play a drinking game. I don’t know, it’s a pretty stupid thing to love but to me, the fact that I told him he didn’t need to text me the whole day but still did anyway, was sweet.

Sam is also a very loyal person, despite us not having any status, when he goes out and there are girls around he sits far from them, even though I didn’t tell him to do that. He is such a loving guy, so sweet and gentle. When I held back tears in front of him (after being rejected by one of my dream uni) he immediately pulled my body to his and hugged me tight while rubbing my back. When I panic, he would always distract me by making me laugh and it always works! When I’ve been upset/angry at him, he would all of a sudden send boba’s or my favourite food to my house, both hand-delivered and ordered online. When we go out, he would take my hand and hold it for the rest of the day. When we are on his motorcycle, he would always ask, “why aren’t you hugging me?” and when I laugh and hug him I could feel his smile through his helmet.

When we have a conversation, we would always look into each other’s eyes while we talk (it’s respectful that way ofc). When I have trouble sleeping and if he’s still awake, he likes singing me to sleep. When I trash talk about something, he would give the same energy and reaction back (which I love so much). He likes to joke around with my mom and when a guy interacts with my family especially my mom, it means so much to me. When he’s on his way back from somewhere, he often likes to come over for a bit before going back home. He would update me whenever there’s an upcoming event. And so much more to be honest, I could list them all up but it would be a longggggggggg list.

As much as you probably enjoyed the wholesome stuff, I have some upsetting news. Unfortunately, in about a month, he is officially leaving for Germany. I really hope Sam could still stay in my life even when he’s away. He’s the only guy so far who has made me feel safe and comfortable 100%. He successfully healed my trust issues from the past and Sam, if you’re somehow reading this, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done. You will always have a place in my heart and I love you so so much.

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures past pt10 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang gets in a bit of trouble with Jin Zixun

A week after returning from Yunping City, Nie Huaisang still hadn’t had a single chance to spend time with Su She, which was starting to thoroughly annoy him. His friend had been punished for getting into a fight with one of the guest students, and so hadn’t had time at all for Nie Huaisang. At the same time, Lan Xichen had been too busy to actually give those promised music lessons yet, though they had decided on a date for the first one which Lan Xichen has promised he would free himself for. But even with this to look forward to, Nie Huaisang still felt lonely and missed his actual friend.

Which meant that when one afternoon he found Su She waiting for him at the door of the classroom at the end of the day’s lecture, Nie Huaisang was thrilled. There was a lot he wanted to chat about with Su She, and some candies he’d bought in Yunping City to share, and he had to announce that he too was learning music now, and…

“What’s that merchant’s son doing here again?” Jin Zixun asked, pushing Nie Huaisang to the side so he could get to the door first, planting himself in front of Su She. “Hey, what are you doing here? Got something to sell this time?”

Nie Huaisang froze.

He didn’t like Jin Zixun.

Of course, that didn’t mean much. Everyone disliked Jin Zixun, as far as he could tell. The other guest students didn’t like him. The teachers didn’t like him. Even the other Jin kids who’d come with him didn’t like him, and only pretended otherwise when he was around to threaten them. Apparently his uncle and his cousin liked him well enough but they were the only ones, while his aunt preferred to see as little of him as possible, for obvious reasons.

Nobody liked Jin Zixun, but nobody could really stand up to him either, except some of the older Lan disciples, the Lan Jades if they were around, and of course Lan Qiren who remained convinced he could turn even that bully into a decent person and wouldn't put up with misbehaviour from anyone.

Su She, who already stood at the bottom of the pecking order in his own sect, couldn't do much when harassed by someone like that. He still had a faint bruise on the side of his face from his last encounter with Jin Zixun, but just clenched his fists and gritted his teeth and didn't dare say anything. It was what worked when other Lans teased him, he’d told Nie Huaisang before. It was what all Lans were taught to do when confronted with someone rude who tried to bully them.

But Jin Zixun was no Lan, and laughed at this demonstration of fortitude.

“So, are you selling or buying?” he mocked, pushing Su She around. “If you’re buying, I know where you can get pills to improve your cultivation. Then maybe it won’t be so obvious to everyone that you’re just a merchant’s son, right? Or maybe they will. The love of gold never goes away, right?”

“You’d know that, being a Jin,” someone said.

To Nie Huaisang’s consternation, the person turned out to be himself.

It was just that someone had to say something, right? And the teacher, that day, wasn’t Lan Qiren. If it had been, Jin Zixun would never have dared to behave like this, Nie Huaisang knew. But it was another Lan elder who had taught them, one who’d given them a few lectures before and whose attitude had made it clear he thought it beneath him to teach a bunch of outsiders. He’d never intervened before when there had been skirmishes between them unless they got too loud, and it was unlikely he’d come to the defence of a Lan disciple he probably also saw as unworthy. So someone had to do something.

Nie Huaisang hated being the one having to do anything.

He hated it even more when Jin Zixun swirled around toward him, one arm raised to punch him in the face…

But the punch didn’t come. Jin Zixun was a bully but he wasn’t an idiot, so he just grabbed Nie Huaisang by the collar, lifting him up just enough that Nie Huaisang had to stand on his toes.

“What did you just say?” Jin Zixun asked. “Do you have something to say about my family?”

Nie Huaisang shook his head, mostly out of sheer terror. Then, figuring that if Jin Zixun was going to punch him he would already have done so, Nie Huaisang found some courage and nodded.

“I’m saying Lanling Jin was founded by a merchant,” he squeaked. “And you’re right about this at least, the love of gold doesn’t ever leave.”

Technically, the venerable ancestor of Lanling Jin had been the son of a merchant and a rogue cultivator, and his mercantile father had only provided funds while his mother had helped in every other aspect of creating the sect, but it was irrelevant. Nie Huaisang, who only cared about history if it sounded like gossip, had just memorised the fun parts of that story, the bits he could use against the next Jin who'd have called him the son of a butcher.

Using that piece of history to insult Jin Zixun wasn't bad either.

Of course after such an attack on his sect's honour, Jin Zixun again raised his fist, ready to strike. But again, he lowered it quickly, and instead just shook Nie Huaisang violently, making him dizzy. If it had been anyone else Jin Zixun wouldn't have hesitated to hurt them, but only a complete fool would have risked Nie Mingjue's ire over such a small matter.

"You're only playing tough because of your brother," Jin Zixun spat.

"And you're doing the same with your uncle," Nie Huaisang replied while trying to gesture at Su She to leave. "Except I'm sure my brother would stand with me. Are you sure of Jin zongzhu?"

Su She, instead of making his escape, crept closer. He had a worrying glint in his eyes, as if he might try to attack Jin Zixun to rescue Nie Huaisang. Considering how badly Su She had been scolded after his previous brush with Jin Zixun when everyone agreed that he'd probably been the victim, and with several of his teachers already disliking him…

Nie Huaisang gestured more urgently at Su She to go, which was made difficult when Jin Zixun resumed shaking him.

"You little son of a whore, you're just…"

"Don't you dare talk about my mom!" Nie Huaisang shouted, all other worries burned under instantaneous rage. "Not when you don't even know who your dad is!"

He realised, a little late, that it was probably the worst thing he could have said.

Jin Zixun's fist connected with his face. Nie Huaisang felt and heard his nose make a crushing noise, causing a pain intense enough that he promptly fainted.

When Nie Huaisang started coming to, he was in a quiet place, nearly silent save for the respiration of another person nearby. With some effort he opened his eyes to a room that wasn’t his quarters at home, nor his cabin in the Cloud Recesses. Judging by the style of that room and the unbearable silence, he guessed he was still in the Cloud Recesses, but in a part he hadn’t visited yet. Considering that his face hurt a lot less than it should have after being punched like that, Nie Huaisang guessed he had to be in the infirmary.

Nie Mingjue was going to be so annoyed. His stance had always been that fights weren’t bad if they were righteous, but he expected his disciples and relatives to come out of them victorious. To be taken down in just one blow was embarrassing, and it meant Nie Huaisang would be subjected to so much training when he got home, so he wouldn't lose so fast next time he fought someone. And then, Lan Qiren too would probably have something to say about this incident once he heard about it. No private fights was pretty high on the list of Gusu Lan's rules.

Nie Huaisang, whose back had just recovered from the punishment he’d received after Yunping City, sighed deeply.

“Nie-xiong, you’re awake!”

Turning his head, Nie Huaisang realised that the person whose respiration he’d noticed was none other than Su She, who was kneeling next to his bed and had a rather fresh looking new bruise on his face.

“Tell me you didn’t fight with Jin Zixun,” Nie Huaisang sighed, only to wince when speaking caused some new pain on his face.

“I didn’t fight him! But everyone else was too slow to rescue you, and he was going to punch you again! So I put myself between you and him to protect you.”

“That might be even more stupid than fighting him,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, trying to move his lips as little as possible. Trying not to smile, also. Aside from his brother, nobody had ever taken a hit for him before, and it touched him more than he could have said. “Are you ok? They aren’t going to punish you, right?”

“Jin gongzi said it was our fault and the Jins backed him,” Su She said, looking down at his knees. “The Nies say that Jin gongzi struck unprovoked. Everyone else says they didn’t really see and hear anything, because they're cowards and they know Jin gongzi will target them if they don't stay out of it. So for now it’s probably just you and Jin gongzi that will be punished for fighting, unless you agree that I also caused it.”

“But you didn’t, it was all me,” Nie Huaisang said, sighing again. “He shouldn’t have said that about my mom, but saying that about his dad, that wasn't too smart either I guess. My mom was an honourable woman, and all the rumours are just fake, but Jin Zixun…”

He sighed once more, while Su She threw him a puzzled look.

“Wait, you don’t know, for Jin Zixun?” Nie Huaisang asked, wriggling on the bed until he was on his side and could look more easily at Su She. “I figured everyone had heard that one.”

“Gossip is forbidden,” Su She replied. Somehow, he made it sound both like a scolding and a request for details.

Whatever faint guilt Nie Huaisang had felt for having thrown something like that at Jin Zixun’s face evaporated at the perspective of being the first one to share a juicy scandal with someone else.

Before he could get started with that particularly awful story, the door to the infirmary opened so a few people could come in. Nie Huaisang hurriedly returned to laying on his back and put on his most pitiful expression. He didn’t even have to force himself too much. His nose really did hurt, and his cultivation just wasn’t good enough to help with that. As for Su She, he jumped to his feet so he could politely bow before Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren, and another inner clan Lan who Nie Huaisang guessed to be a doctor, a certain Li Fang he learned later.

"You can stay," Li Fang told Su She when he saw him trying to leave. "I'm sure your teachers can spare you, while your friend needs you."

Su She frowned, trying to find hidden insults in those words as always, but still obeyed and went to stand a little out of the way. Meanwhile the other three came to stand around Nie Huaisang's bed, making him feel just a little cornered. Lan Xichen, to his credit, was smiling in a comforting manner, but it did little to offset Lan Qiren's very severe expression.

"I know I shouldn't have done that," Nie Huaisang quickly mumbled. "But he shouldn't have either, and he was trying to make way worse trouble than what happened."

"And so you took it upon yourself to play the hero," Lan Qiren said, stroking his beard.

"Nobody else was doing anything," Nie Huaisang whispered.

"The teacher should have intervened before it got this far," Lan Qiren conceded, sounding irritated at his fellow teacher. Maybe he was. That man, Lan Xingyu, was despised by all of the guest disciples and by Su She, though the same Su She claimed inner disciples liked him well enough. "After reviewing this and other incidents, Lan Xingyu will no longer teach guest students. And Jin gongzi should not have reacted with violence to your taunt. Still, because you did taunt him, you are both at fault, and will both be punished."

"More beatings?" Nie Huaisang whined. His poor body couldn't take much more pain, he would die for sure if he was beaten again.

"Not this time," Lan Qiren said. "But for a week you and Jin gongzi will kneel together in the discipline hall after lessons every day, and then again for a shichen after dinner. At the end of it, I expect both of you to have reflected on your faults and to make sincere excuses."

That sounded pretty boring and awful, Nie Huaisang thought, but probably less painful than the discipline rulers, so he could deal with it. And making an apology didn't bother him, he was pretty good at those since his brother and him argued frequently.

"I will also demand an essay on how you should have dealt with this situation," Lan Qiren added, and that was such a torture that Nie Huaisang whined. "If you do not wish to be punished, then act appropriately."

"And don't pick fights if you can't win them," Li Fang added. Nie Huaisang could have sworn he saw the man roll his eyes in a very un-Lan manner. "You're lucky your friend was here, or your face might be in a worse state than this. As it is, your nose should be fully healed in a week or two, and it will look mostly the same as before."

Mostly was not exactly, and Nie Huaisang couldn't help the wave of despair that washed over him. He liked his face. He wasn't the most handsome person in the world, but now that puberty was starting to set in and he was getting closer to forming a golden core, he thought he didn't look half bad. A normal person could probably have pulled off a broken nose, but for a cultivator…

"Oh, true, let's not forget about this," Lan Xichen said, before turning around to look at Su She.

Su She, always suspicious whenever he attracted attention from his elders or from inner clan disciples, startled at being addressed and gave a quick bow.

"Shidi, thank you for protecting Nie gongzi," Lan Xichen said with a smile that might almost have passed for sincere. "I will make sure to mention it when we inform Nie zongzhu of the incident. I'm certain he will be happy to hear his brother has made such a loyal friend."

Even though it hurt his face, Nie Huaisang couldn't help a faint grin. He hadn't been sure Lan Xichen would keep his word about being more fair to Su She, but he figured even just something like this counted as a first step. Su She, for his part, was so surprised to be complimented that he could only bow again while trying to think of something to answer.

"Lan gongzi is too kind," he said after his bow, throwing a glance at Nie Huaisang who pretended not to notice. "I know I also failed to act appropriately, and so Jin gongzi was hurt by my fault. I will do better next time."

"I'm sure nobody would punish you because Jin gongzi bruised his knuckles on your cheekbone," Li Fang scoffed. Su She said nothing, only averting his eyes, but that was an answer in itself. "Really? Under what excuse?"

"Teacher Lan Xingyu said I should have better deflected the attack instead of taking the hit. I also had no reason to be there at that moment, and should have been practicing cultivation instead of socialising."

If he hadn't been in pain, and already in so much trouble his brother was going to murder him when he got home, Nie Huaisang would have cried out in outrage at this unfair assessment. The others looked just as startled, and even Lan Xichen seemed to be genuinely unhappy to hear about this. Li Fang in particular appeared quite aggravated by the news, perhaps because he too was an outer disciple.

"Some things don't change," Li Fang said with a sharp look at Lan Qiren who also looked annoyed. "I'm pretty sure we have rules about that."

Nie Huaisang had the impression of an entire conversation silently happening, one that perhaps the two men had had many times before. This impression was strengthened by Lan Xichen somewhat hopeful expression, and his brief smile when his uncle gave in.

"We do have rules, and I will talk to Lan Xingyu," Lan Qiren said. "It cannot hurt to remind teachers that they are not exempt from following our principles, and must be an example to younger generations."

"Good, go do that," Li Fang ordered with good humour. "And if old man Xingyu makes trouble for you, just tell me. I wouldn't mind having a chat with him either, if you'll let me."

Lan Qiren did not grace that comment with an answer. He took his leave, followed by his nephew. Su She too tried to leave, but Li Fang insisted he could stay longer, and even told him that if elders made trouble for him again, Su She should complain to him about it. They might not be part of the inner clan, he said, but they were still Lan disciples, they followed the same rules, and deserved to be treated with as much respect.

That was something Su She himself said often, of course. But hearing it from someone of an older generation, and one as respectable as a doctor, appeared to shake him up. If his face hadn't hurt so bad, Nie Huaisang would have grinned. He couldn't regret getting punched in the face if it might have finally given Su She an ally inside his sect.

Still, even with that good news, Su She found something to be unhappy about.

"I told you not to involve Lan gongzi," he complained as soon as Li Fang went to deal with other things in another part of the infirmary. "Now that it gets known I've complained…"

Nie Huaisang shrugged, shifting on his bed to try and find a comfortable position. Gusu Lan beds really were too hard for his tastes.

"I didn't say anything, so don't blame me for this," Nie Huaisang said. "Maybe Lan gongzi just decided to finally uphold the ideals of his sect after seeing what a loyal and morally upright person you are."

"Surely you can lie better than that."

"Not when I'm in pain," Nie Huaisang said. He poked gently at his nose and winced. The pain was one thing, but feeling how it had tripled in size was a true horror. “Oh no. Tell me the truth, Su-xiong. Am I ugly now?”

Su She scoffed, fighting a smile.

“Is that really what you care about right now?”

“My good looks are my only quality! How will I ever find love if I’m not handsome anymore?”

“Then I promise you that your chances of finding love are exactly the same as before.”

Nie Huaisang beamed, smiling as much as he could when his face hurt like that. It took him a moment to notice Su She’s expression, after which he repeated his friend’s words to himself.

“Hey! That’s mean!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I sacrificed my amazing beautifulness for you, and that’s how you repay me? Rude, very rude! Su-xiong, you’re the worst best friend I’ve ever had.”

Su She went very still for a moment, before a light blush crept over his face.

"How many other best friends have you had before me?"

"None. I was holding on for someone really great, and then I met you at last."

"You're an idiot," Su She grumbled.

"Maybe. But I'm your idiot best friend, right?"

Su She scoffed, but still nodded, averting his eyes almost shyly. Nie Huaisang beamed.

He'd been wondering for a while now, but now he was sure of it: he had to have misunderstood when his future self mentioned Su She, because there was just no way his best friend would ever become a bad person.

#xisang #nie huaisang #jin zixun #su she #lan xichen #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

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never judge a mom by their car

this was entirely self indulgent but enjoy :)

Carla Dunkler hated you. No, scratch that. She wanted to fuck you. Or both maybe?

Every morning you'd drive past in your perfect, not dented, car and parallel park like it was the easiest fucking thing in the world. It was hot, and infuriating. Then, she was subjected to your kid (adopted, so no mom bod) and his impeccable manners. He'd get out the car, go to your window to say goodbye, then stroll into school like he owned the place. Which he might've, because you were loaded.

Carla didn't consider herself a particularly self-conscious person, yet seeing your perfect parenting induced a certain amount of self-doubt. In comparison, her son still ran into school like he was ten years old, barrelling through the groups of students without so much as a "Thanks for driving me, mom" or "See you later".

To be fair, she could just stick him on the bus and save herself the trouble of waking up early for an ungrateful son, but then she'd miss out on her favourite part of the day.

"Morning!" After saying goodbye, you'd always get out the car to watch your son walk away, and without fail, would call out a greeting or wave politely. Only to Carla though, never anyone else, like you were mocking her.

She hated to admit it, but you'd gotten into her head. It made her feel special, and simultaneously ridiculed.

In response, she'd wave back and usually mutter something insulting under her breath. Today's was, "Go back to fucking your yoga guru or something." Chosen simply because you looked like the kind of person to do yoga, and because she could totally imagine you with a fit, younger man.

The image made her more envious than she'd anticipated. Envious of the imaginary supermodel guru, or you? She wasn't sure.

Now, at this part of the routine, you'd hop back in your super-car and drive to your super-job. Probably to earn more in a day than she did in a week (judging by the suit you wore). Meanwhile she'd be at the spa, waxing god knows what.

---

Somehow, Carla's day had gotten progressively worse, which only encouraged her reckless driving. Perhaps if she were lucky, the car would crash and she'd be saved from suffering through another stupid fundraiser. Maybe she'd get stuck in traffic and arrive so late that the bake sale would've already ended. But then Amy and Kiki would be disappointed. It was a lose-lose situation.

As she pulled into the school car park, you crossed her mind. It was likely that you were already inside, selling some homemade cake that looked to be straight from Pinterest. In comparison, she had nothing to contribute. Although, even if she'd stopped to pick up a store bought cake, it would've surely been put to shame by whatever you had made. Stupid, fucking perfect-

An ear-piercing screech tore Carla away from her stream of insults.

"Oh, shit."

She'd turned too early, ramming straight into the side of another car. A flawless, not dented, perfectly parked car. Double shit. It was yours, she realised with a sigh.

The realisation was the final nail in the coffin, in her coffin. You probably knew some fancy lawyer and were about to sue her for everything she had, which wasn't much currently. Sighing, she let her head fall forward onto the steering wheel with a surrendering thud. Of course it was your car. Fate just had to do her dirty.

She had two options:

Commit a hit and run. Pretend she never made it to the damn bake sale.

Find and confess. Pray that you'd avoid litigation.

However, one thing she didn't count on was that you were leaning out the car window, looking directly at her. It'd have to be option two, then.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out the car, braced for the worst. Walking shamefully through the car park with you watching her every move, she grew embarrassed. Why the fuck was she still wearing her work clothes? Why was she walking so stiffly? How the hell had she managed to hit your car?

Neither one said anything until she was stood next to you, crouched down to peer through the window.

"Guess that's what I get for hiding in the car." You cackled, completely unexpectedly.

Carla chuckled in relief. You didn't appear mad. "And that's what I get for arriving late, apparently."

You continued to laugh. The carefree, gleeful gesture had to be the best thing she'd seen all day. She liked seeing you happy, wanted to make you laugh again. Though, now wasn't the time for it.

With much difficulty, she fixed her image, regaining some sense of cool indifference. "We should probably exchange insurance details or whatever-"

"Oh no. Don't worry about it." You waved a hand dismissively, reaching to grab your bag from the passenger seat. "I hated this car anyway. Been looking for an excuse to get rid of it."

Carla jumped back as the door swung open suddenly. You paused, placing a hand on her shoulder, demanding eye contact. "Seriously, you did me a favour."

Before she could process anything that'd just happened, you were walking away. In most situations, Carla would've just taken the win and mentally repressed the event. But not this time.

"What even are you?" She called, chasing after your ridiculously fast pace. "How are you so casual about this?" She finally caught up as you were opening the door. God, you smelt so good up close.

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "I'm a little high right now. That might be why." Without another word, you left her standing in the doorway.

She hadn't been expecting that. This was a whole new side to you, a whole new you. An example of 'never judge a book by its cover'. Or more accurately, never judge a mom by their car. Although she loathed to admit she might've been wrong about you, showing up high to a bake sale cleared any previous assumptions that you were a snob. In fact, Carla Dunkler didn't hate you at all.

And she definitely wasn't about to let you get away.

#carla dunkler x reader #carla dunkler

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light-yaers · 3 years

Text

No Saints: Chapter Eight

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 5.4k

Chapter Eight

You woke serenely, when sun started to stream into the hull of the Razor Crest. You fluttered your eyes open, taking in the ship as you breathed away your sleepiness. You were pressed against Mando’s chest, focusing on the rhythmic way his ribs moved up and down as he breathed calmly beneath his undershirt.

You indulged in him, pressing your cheek into him and hearing the pitter patter of his heartbeat. This was nice. This was needed. And stars, you savoured every moment you got with him.

You allowed your gaze to trickle over the rest of him, noticing the curves of his muscles that you so craved whenever he was covered head to toe in Beskar. His legs were bare now, with his cargo trousers pushed to the edge of the small sleeping space the two of you had adopted on the hull floor. You thought yourself silly, as you spent many minutes just looking at the way his thighs met his knees, and his knees met his calves, all the way down to his ankles and his sock covered feet.

Then you made your way back up his chest, winding over his torso, his clavicle, his collarbones, his neck—

His jaw.

His jaw. His bare jaw.

Maker, his helmet was off.

You gasped as you flinched on the floor, sitting up immediately and covering your eyes with your fingers. You panicked while he stirred awake, noticing the way you’d shot up from his body and were almost cowering away from him.

As Mando’s eyes opened, he realised why you were suddenly so on edge. He tensed. “Fuck,” He muttered, before immediately hoisting himself off the floor and rushing around to grab his helmet. You kept your eyes locked tight, focusing on the way you were sucking in air and blowing it out of your lungs.

“I didn’t see your face,” You said timidly, as he finally found his helmet and slotted it over his head. Your entire body was buzzing as you sensed him approach you. Stars, that was a close fucking call, and one that could have ended in disaster. You knew what it meant if you were to see his face openly, you knew it went against his vow to the creed.

Maker, you weren’t about to be the reason he couldn’t don his Beskar anymore. No fucking way. You were certain he’d kill you, even if you’d both found comfort in the arms of one another all this time.

“My fault,” He let out bluntly. “I fell asleep without it on,”

You shook your head, not daring to move your fingers from your eyes just yet. “No—I should have been more careful—,”

“You were careful,” He interrupted, before descending to where you sat the floor. Slowly, he reached out to you, curling his calloused fingers round your wrist and tugging your fingers away from your eyes. You kept them clamped shut, breathing shallowly as you sensed Mando’s visor right before you.

He chuckled lightly at your panic, cupping his hands over your cheeks gently. “It’s safe,”

You gently opened your eyes. Relief rushed over your entire body as Mando’s chrome visor filled your vision. Stars, he was beautiful. There was something about his very presence that could calm you now, despite him knowing everything about you; your past, the things you’d done, your names.

You raised your hand to meet one of his own, curling your fingers around his wrist as you leant into his palm. You smiled up at him as the panicked blush faded from your cheeks, enjoying his modulated silence and the comfort from being inside the Razor Crest.

Stars, you could have stayed there forever.

You could have easily laid back down and shut your eyes, pushed your body into his own and settled for the rest of your life. You would have been happy to never return to the outside world; your shop, Nevarro, facing the danger of knowing that Ah’era were reforming and would probably come after you.

But as long as Mando was by your side, you knew you’d be okay—you knew.

“Good morning,” He said quietly. You couldn’t help it, as your smile all but doubled in size. You let out an overwhelmed chuckle.

“Good morning, Mando,” You replied, and then he did something he’d never done before. Slowly, he inched closer to you, until his helmet was pressed against your forehead. You closed your eyes, shivering at the cold Beskar upon your skin, indulging in having him so close, even if his face was covered once more.

Maybe this was him kissing you, pecking you, making himself known to you, without needing to take off his helmet. Maybe this was him telling you that he didn’t want you to go, just as much as you wanted to stay.

“I have to meet with Karga,” He said coarsely, and just like that his helmet was removed from your head. You nodded sullenly, knowing that this was how it had to be. The endless grind, him coming and going from Nevarro, stealing moments at night when both of you knew it was safer.

“I need to get back to the shop, anyway,” You replied. Mando moved his hands from your face then, depositing them on your biceps and hoisting you to standing. You nodded at him in thanks, strolling around the hull once to make sure you had all of your belongings and tugging your shirt back over your head quickly.

Stars, would it always be like this?

With every visit, you grew fonder of the Mandalorian. You grew weaker at the knees, imagining his hands all over you, his lips kissing every portion of skin, his fingers roaming to places that were rarely touched. You still couldn’t admit that you were falling; hard and fast; for the Beskar clad man, but stars, you wanted to. You wanted to scream it.

“When will you be back?” You said timidly, turning to him as you stood by the ramp.

“In a week or so. I’ll contact you,” He said, gesturing to the communicator on your wrist. You smiled sadly, overcome with the want to embrace him, but you didn’t move from your spot. If saying goodbye was always this hard, then you’d only be making it more difficult to indulge in such things.

So, you simply opened the ramp, letting it descend almost to the floor, before you walked out of the Razor Crest. You tried to focus on walking, to just keep going, to not look back—but stars, you had to.

You dared to stop, to look back at the ship on the barren desert of Nevarro, and what met you was enough to keep you going for the days ahead without him. Mando stood in the hull, near the ramp controls, cradling the kid in his arms. He giggled and gurgled as his eyes washed over you, raising one of his tiny arms in a wave.

You waved back, ignoring the utter ache in your chest as the ramp slowly began to ascend once more. Then, you continued forward, swallowing down the pain in your throat as it fought to close up, all the way back to your shop.

The scarred skin on your ankle had been hurting for three days, after Mando left once again. It itched beneath your boots, jarring you as you worked at your desk and tried not to imagine Mando’s face when you zoned out. Maker, you hated to complain at the best of times, but this week you had a lot on your plate.

Not just the aching feeling in your gut for the Mandalorian, or the flesh-eating anxiety of knowing Ah’era were rising once more, but Karga posed an equally as imposing challenge—

He was sending Guild members into the shop for him.

You spotted the first one immediately, some young hunter who looked utterly lost. You’d seen him around Nevarro a few times, fumbling in and out of the bar and around the neighbouring streets in search of whatever. He shuffled into the shop timidly, like a fucking baby lamb, but it was the first thing he said that cemented Karga was to blame—

“How’s business going?” He asked, clearing his throat afterwards as he overdramatically slammed his weapon on your desk.

You answered him in the only way you knew would get through to Karga— “Business is booming,”

Ever since he’d come to see you about Mando, you’d been worried. Maybe Mando was content with shoving it under the rug, but after the oldie almost shot your Beskar clad hunter it was becoming incredibly obvious that feelings had not healed, but in fact dwindled. What it was about, you didn’t know, and Mando seemed reluctant to talk about whatever it could be that had Karga’s knickers in a twist. Stars, he just didn’t care.

After your initial comeback, Karga had continued to send men in on his behalf. Older, more experienced hunters; rogue runaways; Nevarro locals who were in the palm of his hand; but you refused to let them get to you. These were fucking scare tactics. You knew all about them—stars—at one point you’d been used as a scare tactic for Ah’era. Your presence back then had been enough to instil fear into anyone who dared to deny the creed.

But this? From Karga? This was just fucking annoying. Maker, you even had a dream one night that Mando shot Karga dead, straight through his heart, before whisking you away on the Razor Crest to saints knew where—

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

You were getting to the end of your tether by the time the week was over. You were counting down the hours to when Mando should arrive back on the planet, biting your cheeks to expel the anxious energy you harboured. Stars, you had to tell him. You had to warn him again; you had to make it known that Karga was once again bad news; that he was planning something.

“Excuse me, Miss,” A voice came from the front door. You swiftly looked towards them, hitting his eyes—and that’s when your soul left your body.

He sauntered inside with an unwavering stare, nothing but black boots and a thick belt and scarred knuckles. His beard was patchy, a lot more than it had been seven years prior. His eyes were the same sickly shade of green; resembling vomit, mixed with that yellow that you’d usually associate with bile.

Kalahan—loyal Ah’era member; cut-throat killer; someone that, even when you’d worked for them, killed for them, been trusted by them; you knew to fucking avoid.

“Can you take a look at my gun?” He continued, approaching you at the desk, now. Close enough that he could probably see the reflection of himself in your eyes. You fought back against the fight in you. You fought back against the need and want to gut and decapitate him where he stood. But that would only prove detrimental.

You’d grown. You were older. And he’d only ever seen your face half-covered, shrouded by a hood, or scowling with rage. This face; your face right now; one that over the past seven years had grown soft; he didn’t know it. He didn’t know who you were.

Kalahan’s methods were by far the cruellest of the creed. You’d never hidden the type of monster they’d forced you to be, but Kalahan—he got off on being all sweet and handsome and nice, right before he’d gut someone without a second of hesitation. He was a killer with the face of a gentleman. He was disgustingly vile.

Maker, you wanted to kill him. You wanted to know what it felt like to see him be the one to have the life die from within him. And you wanted to be the reason he ceased to breathe anymore. But you couldn’t, so instead; you smiled.

“Of course,” You said happily, as he politely handed over his blaster. You busied yourself with the mechanics at hand, ignoring his flittering stare over you, your face, your shop, everything that was yours. Stars, you somehow wanted to thank Mando; if it weren’t for you saving his skin and acting like a goddamn weakling, you wouldn’t know how to pretend to be fine this well. Your body was doing everything it could to keep you from failing, from slipping up, but you knew it would be a matter of time before your heart combusted from stress.

“Is the cartridge shot?” He questioned curiously, leaning down on the desk until you were face to face—nose to nose. You avoided his gaze like the fucking plague.

“I don’t think so,” You said honestly, flipping the gun round in your palms and checking the trigger. Your fingers skilfully pried into the trigger compartment, coming across a lodged piece of shrapnel that had imbedded itself inside, halting the trigger. “Ah—there we are,” You muttered, popping the gun down to grab your smaller tools.

“Damn, you found that fast,” He said in awe. “Finding good mechs out here is a fucking challenge,” He chuckled after he spoke, but all it did was cause a huge shiver to run down your spine, making you feel sick. You swallowed down bile.

“You’ve just gotta know where to look,” You hit back with, matching his upbeat energy as not to come off overly suspicious. You began unscrewing the trigger compartment on his blaster, using the tiniest screwdrivers you owned.

He regarded you for a long time, watching closely as you skilfully opened the trigger compartment and went about collecting the shrapnel. Maker, you tried not to flinch when he got even closer to you, peeing up into your face as you ignored his fire like gaze with a ferocity that had burned within you ever since you’d fled Ah’era.

“You got a name?”

You stopped working and stood to full height, looking down at him sternly. For once, he was the one being suspicious. No one asked for names in hunter country.

“It’ll cost you to ask for names around these parts,” You replied strongly, raising your brows at him sceptically, fiddling with a tiny Phillips-head between your fingers. He let out a scoff, rising himself up to your level. He smiled—some sort of playboy smile that was supposed to make him seem charming, or approachable, or not a member of the galaxy’s deadliest creed.

“How’s a name for a name?” He said playfully, sticking out a hand. “I’m Reynard,”

Reynard. Fucking liar.

Of course, he’d use a fake name. He wasn’t stupid enough to reveal himself as who he truly was; Kalahan. It’s not like he knew your real name; he’d only ever called you the Wraith; but you weren’t about to tell him your true name either.

That was reserved for Mando, and only Mando. No one else was allowed to utter those syllables the way his modulated drawl did. No one.

You grabbed his hand strongly, pretending your heart wasn’t trying to crawl out of your chest. “Melissa,” You replied. He shook your hand a few times, looking you dead in the eyes. You were looking out for sheer signs of treachery; his fingers weren’t pressed on your pulse point, which means he couldn’t analyse if you were lying or not. His gun was still lying on the desk in front of you, out-of-action while you removed the shrapnel from behind the trigger. He wasn’t suspicious—not one bit.

It would have put you at ease the smallest bit, if you weren’t already on edge from the fucking week you’d had. This was just the frosting on top of the fucking cake.

Stars—when would people leave you the fuck alone?

“Melissa,” He repeated, before gently removing his hand from yours. Maker, you wanted to vomit. You’d never touched him before; never had skin-to-skin contact with Kahalan, even during those five years of the creed.

You wished he’d died in that explosion you caused. You wished he’d perished in the flames, never to be seen again; never to kill another soul with his bare hands once more. You would have done the galaxy a favour if he’d been one of the members to die. It was a fucking shame. It made you feel responsible for him being alive— which wasn’t a feeling anyone fucking wanted.

You nodded at him, getting back to work on his blaster.

“How long have you been on Nevarro?”

Maker, what the fuck was his problem? You knew Kalahan, you knew he never indulged in small talk like this, at least not back then. He always had that honey-eyed tone in his voice, but his words were used like a weapon; scarcely, only when he wanted to threaten people in a way that left them running for the hills, or their blood running down from a slit in their necks.

It was a good thing you were brilliant at lying. “Three years,” You lied, making a show of tweezing a piece of shrapnel from his gun. “After my partner ditched me, I didn’t know where to go, but I ended up here. I guess I never left,” The words left your mouth easily, unbothered, as if you hadn’t just thought them up on the spot.

“Partner?” He chided, strolling over to the storage boxes. He took a seat on one—Mando’s usual seat. You refrained from balling your fists in anger, focusing on getting this repair over and done with as fast as possible. “As in, business partner? Or... lover?”

Ah. So—that was it.

He was attracted to you.

Maker, kill you now, if you had to pretend to flirt with him the same way you’d done with Karga. You’d much rather stab yourself in the temple with your tiny screwdriver.

You scoffed as you went back to working, feeling your forehead prickle with sweat. “Lovers don’t exist on this side of the galaxy,” You picked out another piece of shrapnel and tested the trigger with the safety on—it wasn’t jammed any longer. You breathed out shallowly as you polished down the grease from the gun, before pushing it back to Kalahan’s side of the desk. “All done,”

He hoisted himself up from the storage boxes slowly, smiling as he approached you. His eyes ate you up, but only provided you with the extensive need to cover up. Maker, you were in overalls, but he was acting like you were wearing fucking lingerie.

“What do I owe you, Melissa?” He asked. You wanted to laugh at the way the fake name sounded coming from his mouth so seriously, but of course you didn’t.

“Seven hundred credits,” You said plainly, reverting back to your usual shop etiquette when it came to payment. Kalahan only nodded, sifting through his pockets and jangling the credits in his hand. You thought he was going to drop them onto the desktop, but he didn’t—he hovered his hand in the air, eyeing your knuckles in wanting.

You swallowed, sticking out your hand stubbornly. He took his time as his other hand grabbed your wrist, curling his fingers around your skin, before he dropped all seven hundred credits into your palm. His fingers lingered and the feeling was enough to burn your insides. You were fighting against every sense you had within you to fucking dropkick this man.

When he eventually moved away and grabbed his blaster, you let out a small sigh. You tugged yourself away from him, busying yourself with putting away your tools. You squatted to the floor, organising your screwdrivers and taking a quick inventory of screws and tacks; but mostly, you were praying he would leave without a word.

The god never fucking answered, as when you stood up once more, Kalahan was leaning against the doorframe, waiting to say something. “Thanks for the repair,” He said sweetly. “I hope I’ll see you around more often, Melissa,”

More often? Not likely.

“I’m settling on this planet in a few weeks,”

Oh, fuck.

“Good luck,” You said, and maybe you meant it. Even though your entire body felt like lead; even though your ears were overcome with a high-pitched noise that you couldn’t locate; even though you now had knowledge that someone from your past—someone dedicated to the creed, someone who would stop at nothing to reform it—was moving to Nevarro; you meant the luck you sent him.

Because Maker, as soon as you had a plan—as soon as you knew what to do, how to do it, and were ready—

You were going to slit his fucking throat.

“See you around, Melissa,” He said. Then he was gone.

You shot your blaster in the firing range all evening, until you were sure your fingers were going to drop right off your knuckles. You waited for Mando’s voice to cut through on the communicator, happy that you’d be reunited with him that evening—but you were also fucked.

Both of you were.

He had Karga on his tail for something. But whatever it was, you had no clue. Karga had a lot of business with a lot of people; there was no telling who betrayed who unless it was spoken outright, instead of gossiped in the wind.

And you—Kalahan was just the beginning of the creed rising to power once again. And if Kalahan was settling on Nevarro, there was a damn good chance that the rest of the creed would as well, even if it was just temporary.

Mando said your name once then, his voice trickling through the communicator roughly. “Can you come to the Crest?” He asked eagerly. Stars, you could hear the want in his voice. It only filled you with more dread.

“I can’t,” You whispered, lowering your blaster and standing in the darkness of your courtyard. “A lot has happened this week... I don’t think it’s safe for me to leave the shop tonight,” Being honest wasn’t your forte, but you were learning. You were learning because of him.

“I’m on my way to you,” He said sternly, dropping his tone back into that of the bounty hunter you first met, almost nine months before. Despite the danger, you were overcome with that warmth that you’d got used to over the past few months. It hit you in the gut like always, spiralling outwards until every limb, every bone, every hair was washed with it.

“Be careful. I think Karga is planning something for you,” You bit your lip.

“Snake in the grass,” Mando replied plainly.

“Bad news,” You whispered. It was silent for a moment, until the slightest breathy chuckle hit your ears from across the comms.

“I’ll be there soon,”

The static faded then, as you tried to just... keep it together. You were hit with a question that you’d asked yourself almost every day for the past seven years, living in this exile—

Why Nevarro? Why did you pick kriffing Nevarro?

Before, you used to be able to joke with yourself, choosing answers surrounding the hot bounty hunters that visited daily, the utter thrill of being able to run your own business, the beautiful weather conditions. None of those answers were the truth, but just an attempt at getting through the fucking grind of this life. You knew the real answer, the real reason, and seeing Kalahan here had just cemented it to be true—

Nevarro was made for people like me.

As if on cue, Mando wrapped his arms around you a few minutes later. He was so good at fluttering through the darkness, at picking your lock and entering the shop alone at night that you couldn’t even hear him anymore; but you could sense him. Like the air got denser and more agitated, the hairs in your arms stuck up as if you were shivering, but you weren’t even cold. No, it was just him—your Mandalorian—back from the dead and the unknown.

“You’re tense,” He whispered, embracing you from behind. His cold Beskar was comforting, offering you support to fully lean back into him. His chest plate was flat against your back, his arms wrapped around your torso, holding you in place as if he depended upon you.

“When am I not tense?” You said in reply, smiling at the way his fingers fiddled with the pockets of your overalls. Mando only gripped you tighter, bringing his helmet in close to your ear.

“When I’m between your legs,” He muttered.

It would have been so easy to melt into him, to let him hold you and sway you and tease you until you were nothing more than a puddle on the floor—his for the taking—but in that moment, nothing could stop the anxiety from eating you up inside.

“We need to talk,” You began, and Mando immediately tensed. Maker, you wanted to hit back with something like who’s tense now? but the moment simply couldn’t call for it. This was serious, this was dangerous; and both of you needed to figure out a plan for the future. “An Ah’era assassin, Kalahan, came into the shop today,”

Mando unfurled himself from you, stepping back and removing you from his embrace. You turned towards him, trying not to frown at the obvious way he’d just recoiled from you. It was just worry, anxiety, fright; nothing else.

“Did he hurt you?” Was the first thing he asked. You let out a scoff, shaking your head slowly.

“He didn’t even recognise me, I don’t think. But he always was a good liar,”

“Are you... okay?” His voice had transformed into so timid and small. He was worried— worried for you. Worried about the creed. The Mandalorian has always appeared to be someone who was purely self-entitled. He killed to live, he hunted to survive, rarely stopping to create lasting relationships.

But this—

This made the breath hitch in your throat. It made you swallow uncomfortably as you felt the vulnerability wash over your entire body. You felt exposed, dirty, weak, an imposter in your own body.

You smiled up into his chrome visor, letting blush tint your cheeks. “Yeah, Mando. I’m okay,”

It was a lie, both of you knew it, but he didn’t press you. Instead, you allowed him to lead you inside. He shut the courtyard door behind him, letting you make yourself comfortable atop your work desk, like you normally did. Your legs dangled off the side, swinging with anxiety as you tried to breathe it all away—in and out, in and out.

Over and over.

A never-ending cycle of your past, present and darkness shrouded future.

You told him about Karga, about the hunters he’d send into your shop. How with every visit, you were simply too stubborn to let him keep getting away with bothering you this way.

“I think I made it clear that I knew it was him,” You said, remembering your words to that young hunter, and how Karga would know you were lying. “The old man is up to something and it involves you, Mando,”

The Mandalorian let out a soft chuckle. “What else is new,” He joked.

Why? Why did he joke when his life was on the line?

Maker, this was the last straw. You wanted to believe that he knew what was at stake, you wanted to imagine that he was safe and fine and everything he deserved to be, but with every joke, every unbothered shrug about the prospect of Karga doing something to him—it only broke you more.

You dropped your head into your hands abruptly, letting out a pained groan. Mando stopped where he stood, only having eyes for you.

“I wish you’d take this fucking seriously, Mando,” You let out suddenly. You were pained, straining as the words forced themselves from your mouth. “What happens if you get gunned down tomorrow? What happens to the kid—what happens to me?”

You’d said too much, but you didn’t fucking care.

“This is a fundamental that comes with the job,” He said sternly. “If I cared about every threat, every attempt on my life, then I’d go insane—,”

“Well, I care,” You spat, jumping down from the desk and striding towards him.

He peered down at you, and you could feel his rage He was seething, not expecting this evening to turn into something so incredibly hostile.

“You should care about yourself. An Ah’era assassin visited you today and all you can think about is fucking Karga,” He said it meanly, cascading his voice out in waves of frustration. You settled your face into a scowl. “Your past is coming back to bite you in the ass,”

Stars, you knew he was right—but he didn’t have to say it like that. Not after everything you’d told him, not after the way he’d seen you collapse at the sight of that creed member in the Crest, not after you just came face to face with someone who would have killed you without question, had he known your true identity after so long.

“Are you so stuck on your unemotional high-horse that you have to deflect everything that concerns you?” The words trickled from your mouth before you had a chance to stop them. Mando faltered, stepping away from you slightly.

You could feel the nastiness in the air, the thickness of the red rage rolling off of both of you. When before you felt that warmth, that comfort, you only felt disappointment from the Beskar clad man stood before you.

“I never asked for this,” He said slowly, rolling the words off his tongue with intention. “I never asked for you and all the shit that follows you around like a plague,”

The breath hitched in the back of your throat. You gulped away the desire to punch him, knowing that Beskar was unforgiving on unprotected knuckles. Maker, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe the way he was talking to you—rejecting you.

You got in close to him then, shoving down all the alarm bells in your body that told you to get away from him. You looked up at him menacingly, portraying everything you felt in a way that you knew would get across to him. You wanted him to squirm. You wanted him to know that he’d hurt you, even if he didn’t give a fuck.

“If I’m such a burden to you, Mandalorian, why don’t you leave?”

He was the one to flinch then, as you heard an abrupt humming noise from beneath his helmet. He stepped back slowly, tilting his helmet up and down your entire body a few times. You didn’t change your expression, opting to stare him down mercilessly and ignoring the pain in your chest.

“Deal,” He said. His voice was gravelly and raw, but the silence after he’d spoken made your body buzz with a feeling that you’d never had before. You’d felt pain—you knew what it was like to be stabbed, tortured, maimed; you also knew what it felt like to inflict that upon others.

Your emotions weren’t as easily manipulated and toyed with, considering you’d spent most of your life pretending you didn’t have them. The Mandalorian had just taken them and flattened them upon the floor of your shop—but Maker, you’d just done the same to him in return.

Mutual destruction with a means to an end.

With a whip of his cape, he left the shop without another word. You found yourself unintentionally listening to the stomp of his boots as he got further and further away outside, heading back to his ship, back to the kid, back to the hull floor where you’d spent nights with him; kissed him, felt him, craved him.

You didn’t weep, you wouldn’t allow it, but Maker—the yell that left your lips was enough to disturb the dust within your shop. It floated up into the air, sticking to your hot skin and dropping onto your tongue when you opened your mouth to breathe out heavily.

You hardly slept. All you saw behind your eyelids was him—Mando—but he was tarnished. You were haunted by images of his death, of him getting cut down to the ground and seeing the killer; Kalahan. You could see your reflection in his gaze, but it wasn’t the you that you’d expected—

It was the Wraith—

And she did nothing but stare as the Mandalorian breathed for the last time.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars #star wars fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #no saints #no saints fic #smut and angst #smut and fluff #hurt and comfort #update

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Saul Silva x reader.

Request: You lose Steve in the Civil War between him and Tony. He loses you in the blip. Will you lose him to Peggy now the same way Steve almost love you to Saul? It’s just a mess. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi

“I have to stand by him. He’s the only father I’ve ever known.” Steve gets it. He knows what Tony means to you because he cares just as much about Bucky. So, he lets you go and you pray time will bring you back together again. But you lose all hope when he goes on the run. Fury takes pity on you and sends you to a new dimension as a representative of SHIELD.

“A change of scenery might do you some good,” he shrugs and you jump at the chance to get away from the memories of Steve. You meet Saul in the Otherworld and you convince yourself that he’s the man to make you forget all about Steve. He’s kind and caring and everything you could ask for in a partner but he’s not Captain America.

“I love you. You know that, right?” you whisper your face hidden in the darkness of the night. He pulls you closer under the covers and kisses your forehead.

“I love you too.” You tell yourself that you truly do love him and part of you do, but your heart will always belong to Steve and the guilt is eating you up. Guilt from lying to Saul, guilt from giving up hope that Steve would find his way back to you, guilt from using Saul to let go of Steve. Two years pass with you in the Otherworld before Wanda calls you for help.

“There’s going to be a war and it won’t be pretty.” You’re running out the door before you even have a chance to explain everything to Saul. You leave behind a scribbled note saying you’ll be back as soon as you can but you never get the chance.

“What’s the plan?” you ask once you arrive in Wakanda. You’re so focused on the mission at hand that you don’t notice him at first but of course, his presence demands your attention. He looks good - apparently being on the run is the perfect look for him.

“Hi,” you breathe not sure what to say. All thoughts of poor Saul have left your mind and has been replaced with the memories of Steve that you’ve tried to push away for the past two years.

“They’re here,” T’Challa says and you steel yourself in preparation for the fight. Steve pulls you aside and kisses you before you have a chance to say anything. You wrap your arms around his neck getting lost in the feeling of being back in his embrace.

“I’m so sorry I left.”

“I forgive you.” There’s nothing to forgive really but you say it anyway to let him know that it’s okay. He didn’t exactly have a choice between going or staying.

“After this, I’m going to take you far away from here and it’ll just be me and you.” His promise is etched into your brain as you fight the creatures from Thanos’ army. You fight long and hard but you still lose. He snaps his fingers and from there all you can do is watch as your friends and family turn to dust. Steve watches Bucky disappear in the wind and he rushes to find you but it’s too late. You turn to dust before he has a chance to find you.

You walk through the portal with Bucky by your side hoping to see Steve somewhere. You spot him just as he charges ahead into battle and you can’t contain your smile as you realise that you’re really, truly back. Your happiness is short-lived though as you struggle to stay alive. It’d be ironic to finally come back only to die in the heat of battle.

“Y/N!” Bucky calls and you’re instantly by his side healing the wound in his abdomen. You’re ready to pass out when you see Tony snap his fingers almost killing him in the process. You muster up every last ounce of strength you have left to heal him.

“You’re not dying. Not today!” you whisper-yell wanting to kill him yourself for being so reckless and stupid.

“Not your decision, sweetheart.” But it is your decision. It became your decision to keep everyone alive when you found out you had healing abilities. The aftermath is messy and confusing but you do catch onto the fact that Steve will be going back with the stones having volunteered as the idiot he is.

“It’s dangerous,” you protest but nothing can change his mind. He needs to do this. You’ve halfway convinced yourself he won’t come back opting for the easy life with Peggy but then he’s standing there right in front of you and you’re so overwhelmed with joy that you have no restraints as you jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” You kiss him before he has a chance to answer. Sam makes a gagging sound and you jump down feeling your entire face flush.

“I couldn’t miss life with my best girl, could I?” You never realised that Peggy’s picture in the compass has been replaced with yours but Bucky sees it and convinces Steve to tie the knot with you.

“She’s the one for you. Don’t let her get away this time.” Steve mulls it over but in the end there’s not much to talk about. He wants a life with you and to him this is the next step in your relationship. And life is truly grand with Steve. It’s not fancy or extravagant but it’s happy and joyful. It’s having sex in the middle of the night and then hosting the family brunch every Sunday for all the avengers. You hate to admit it but you don’t think of Saul even once. Time moves so fast and you can barely keep up as it is without adding to it. You’re sure Saul will have found someone new by now. The man has admirers at every corner he turns and you weren’t together that long.

Fast forward two years and you’re married with a ring and everything while your two boys run around outside the gardening. Steve brings in the mail when he comes home the very same afternoon where you find an invitation to a diplomatic meeting between worlds. You arrive as one big family with Steve having promise he’d handle the kids for tonight so you can have a glass of red wine or two. It’s the same event where Saul sees you for the first time since that day occurred.

He tries to act like nothing but deep down he’s hurt. Not even a phone call from you after running out on him was he worth and damn, it hurts. He grieved your death and fell apart and you’re already standing there with a superhuman and your kid. It seems impossible but the proof is right there in front of him. He leaves the party before you have chance to see him. He feels his eyes sting but he refuses to cry before he’s back behind closed doors at Alfea. He wants you to be happy no matter if it’s him or someone else.

You remain unaware of his presence at the party enjoying your happy ending.

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kinglivv · 4 years

Note

*breaks in 2 ur house* got angst for you, the doctor has to wipe your mind like she did with donna so you forget about her and the things you've done, the master is furious so he finds you and uses his telepathy to show you everything and what she did to you, you feel hurt and betrayed, you always got along with the master so when he asks you go with him and make a vow to never trust the doctor ever again

Remembering

Dhawan!Master x Reader, 13th Doctor x Reader

Summary: The Master comes to your flat to find you utterly unlike yourself and clueless as to who he or the Doctor is. After a phone call to the Doctor, he realises what she has done and what he must do next.

Warnings: Memory loss

A/N: I have loads of fics being posted this week as for some reason I've been writing bit not posting?? So enjoy!

Admitedly, the Master hadn't expected to get a warm welcome when he turns up in your living room uninvited, but he certainly hadn't expected anything as extreme as a knife to the throat.

"Who are you?" You hiss, a mix of fear and anger in your eyes as you pin him to the wall, a kitchen knife to his jugular.

He frowns, although he can't ignore the streak of lust that runs through him. Y/N with a knife? What more could he ask for?

"I haven't come to early have I?"

"Who are you?" You demand again. "How did you get into my house?"

"What's the date?"

Your grip loosens slightly as confusion takes over the need to slit his throat.

"It's the tenth of November." You tell him.

"Well I know it's November love, based off of those stupid decorations." He motions to Christmas tree and the presents sitting on the window sill - you'd always loved celebrating Christmas early. "I mean the year."

"2020. Same as it has been for the past eleven months." You reply, perplexed.

The Master's frown deepens. Well that didn't make sense. How could you not know who he was? You'd only seen eachother a week ago, when he'd dangled your cat out the top floor window and the Doctor had sent him in his TARDIS packing.

"Where's the Doctor?" He asks carefully. No hint of recognition passes over your face.

"What Doctor?" You ask. "Do you need a one?"

The Master was beginning to catch on.

Quickly, before you had time to react, he pushed the knife away roughly, sending it spinning across the floor. Just as you cry out in protest, his hand goes to your temple and you slump forward, fast asleep before you had time to finish whatever explicative you were aiming at him. He catches you in his arms, settling you down on the sofa.

In the moment of silence, he stares at your sleeping body, a peaceful expression on your face. Sighing, he reaches over and runs a hand through your hair affectionately, tucking it behind your ear. Then, he presses a finger to your temple again, extracting the memory that he was ever here. Although he wanted to pry, he didn't look any deeper into your mind. He respected your privacy.

He gets up and leaves.

---

"What did you do to her?"

"Wha- Master?"

The Doctor had picked up the phone on the third ring and, by the sounds of things, most definitely hadn't expected to hear him.

"Yes it's me - who else has your Whatsapp?" He retorts incredulously, eager to get to the point. "What did you do to her?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Thete."

There's a silence.

"This is about Y/N, isn't it?"

"Chi-ching, give that kid a prize!" He drawls sarcastically.

Someone says something in the background.

"Graham, it's fine. Go." She tells him, voice sounding distant before she returns to the phone. "How did you find out?" She asks quietly, now alone in her TARDIS.

"I went to see her. She's got no idea who I am. Or who you are."

"Is she... is she alright? Is she happy?"

"Doctor, answer the question. What did you do?"

She audibley gulps and the Master waits patiently for her reply.

"I had to do it." She says eventually, voice practically a whisper. "I didn't have any choice."

"You wiped her memory didn't you?" He almost laughs at how stupid the situation was. And how much he didn't want it to be true. "You pulled a Donna on her!"

"I had to!" She tells him angrily, but he can hear the regret and self-hatred in her voice. Not that he'd cares, anyway. "The judoon wanted to torture her to get information about me, if she didn't know I existed, they'd leave her alone."

"Why didn't you just kill the judoon who wanted her?"

"You know that's not how I work."

"What?" He demands angrily. "So you took Y/N's memory instead? Removed the last three years of her life so she doesn't even know who she is anymore?"

"I had no other option!" She replies desperately.

"No, Doctor," He snaps back. "You chose the lives of some useless judoon over the woman you loved. You might as well have just killed her."

He knows she's crying now, he doesn't even need to hear it.

"But..." She breathes. "But was she okay? When you saw her?" She practically begs him for an answer. "Was she happy? And is she well-"

He slams the reciever down. She didn't deserve an answer.

---

He knew what he had to do now. It was strange - he'd never been remotely compassionate or empathetic, especially towards a human. But you seemed to awake the most bizzare of emotions within him.

When he turns up in your living room for the second time, except later in the day, he gets exactly the same reaction as the first time.

"Who are you?" You demand, identical to what you had said this morning.

This time, he doesn't bother with pleasantries. His fingers press against your temple and you drop to the floor, and it's de ja vu. Again, he catches you smoothly and lays you down on the sofa. Leaning over you, with your eyes closed and hair splayed around your head, he wonders if he should do this. You looked so innocent, so calm, more at peace than you had ever been when you were with the Doctor. The years of feeling responsible for so many helpless aliens and the weight of saving planets was off your shoulders, and you were free from the stress and guilt.

But three years of your life had been taken from you. And that wasn't right.

He presses his forehead to yours and dives inside your mind. He finds the block easily, like a wall built around a corner of your mind.

It was a parlour trick, something he'd learned in his his first few years of the academy. How to remove a mental block. It takes him minutes, and as soon as he skillfully removes the last brick, he's pushed rather roughly out of your mind.

You come back to the land of conciousness with a gasp, launching into a sitting position and knocking him in the head in the process.

"Rassilon - ow!" The Master splutters, rubbing his forehead. You don't seem to notice, scrambling away from him as far as the sofa would let you.

"You," You gasp. "What are you doing here? Fuck - my head." You wince, a palm your head.

"Morning," The Master grins.

"What are you doing here?" You demand. "Why does my head hurt so much?"

"Are you remembering?" He asks. "You clearly remember me."

You stare at him. "Of course I remember you. Why wouldn't... oh."

He smiles - usually it would be a satisfied smile as he sees your face fall and the pain cross over it while everything falls into place. However, this smile is sad and watery and remorseful.

"Why would she do that?" You ask softly. "She took my memories. Why would she do that?"

His hand cups your cheek as you gaze at him, and you don't pull away.

"The Judoon were going to torture you for information about her. She wiped your memory so they wouldn't." He tells you straight, in much the same words the Doctor had. He wanted to see your blind reaction to them, and whether you'd have the same as him.

"I would have preferred torture over that." You reply sullenly, and his eyes widen. "She chose to save the judoon over saving me."

"In many words, yes."

Tears well in your eyes, and you purse your lips, trying to contain them.

"Did she ever really want me then, if she'd do something so cruel over something that could have been fixed so easily?"

"You can ask her yourself."

"No. I don't want to see her." You wipe at your cheeks frantically. "What am I gonna do now?"

It was a fair question. You couldn't exactly go back to leading a normal life after all you'd seen - no companion ever did after the Doctor left.

"Come with me." He suggests.

"What?"

"Travel with me. Instead of the Doctor."

"You hate humans."

"I don't hate you."

"Why not?"

"You've got more than two braincells?" He tries. "You can do basic Marsian multiplication? You don't yell at me everytime I murder someone? You've also got a pretty face, which always brightens the mood."

"You're a real charmer, you know that?"

"I do try my best, darling," He replies. "Well? The offer stands."

He stretches out a hand to you and you glance down at it.

"Why not?" You take his hand. "It's better than this old place."

"Who's the charmer now?" The Master smirks and you roll your eyes. "Just promise me one thing, Y/N."

"What?"

"That you'll never speak to the Doctor again."

"Why would I want to?"

He grins. "You're going to be brilliant," He presses a kiss to your forehead and then spins away, heading to the TARDIS with a skip in his step. "Utterly brilliant. Stick with me, Y/N, because we've got a whole universe to see."

Taglist: @truthbehindthemysteries @queerconfusionthings @xenteaart @actuallyanita @ateliefloresdaprimavera @persephonehemingway @fabulous-jj-style @anteroom-of-death

#doctor who #13th doctor #series 12 #the master #sacha dhawan #dhawan!master #13th doctor x reader #dhawan!master x reader #the master x reader #jodie whittaker #13 x reader #doctor who fanfic #doctor who imagine #self insert #doctor x reader #memory loss

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ofmythsandmadness · 4 years

Text

c’mere, honey | d.h

BASED ON THIS ASK... can i ask for a like happy fic wit female pronouns and prompt 34? diego hargreeves pls ily -- anon. WARNINGS: female pronouns used; no physical descriptions of the person are made, but I didn’t go gender-neutral on this one, per the anon’s request. this was written a while ago, but i’m reposting bc tumblr refuses to let anything of mine be shown in tags anymore. :( hopefully this works. x

HE WASN’T SURE WHEN THE NIGHTLY VISITS BECAME A SERIOUS HABIT.

He never did it with the intention to start a regular schedule. It had only been a combination of piss-poor factors -- his late night street-stalking habits, his inability to stay away from the one friend he hadn’t lost yet, and the fact that no matter how bad his night had gone, he couldn’t make it past a minute without laughing at one of her stupid jokes, or smiling at her dancing stupidly in the kitchen in an attempt to make him happy. He wanted to be around her, and his body dragged him to her apartment even without thinking about it, and then...it just happened.

He came to her almost every night. Sometimes he felt bad about it and skipped out, forcing himself to take a break from bothering her. But she scolded him about that every time. Like she actually wanted him there, stinking about her living room and staring at her swivelling form every chance he could. He didn’t really believe her, but he came anyways.

Couldn’t keep himself away.

That night started just as they always did. Diego slipped in through the half-cracked window, and she hailed him in with a loud cry too cheery for that time of night. He used to flinch at her touch; over time, he grew to expect it. Even going so far as to reach for her incoming arms, pulling her to him as tight as he could and burrowing his cold face in her neck. Sometimes, he debated pulling back enough and kissing the soft, sweet-smelling skin, just barely pressing his love into the curve.

“I missed you,” he said instead. The words were muffled by her thick red sweater, but when her arms squeezed a little harder, he knew she heard him. “You good?”

“All good,” she replied. “Better, now that I’ve seen you.”

They’ve always shared a flirtatious relationship -- it built naturally and lingered even when they remained strictly platonic. Maybe it was what he liked most about her. She didn’t seem to bother with the strict guidelines of most friendships. Lines always blurred with her and the way she hugged, how she held his hand and traced soft details into the calloused skin -- how she pulled him to the couch and sank into with his arms still around her, forcing his shivering body to lean into her own honey sweet touch.

She pulled away from him a little, holding onto his gloved hands. Her own fingers danced over the black fabric.

“You’re always so cold.”

“M’sorry.”

She shrugged. Her grasp still held. “Not a bad thing. Just an observation.”

Diego wondered if he should pull away. If he should just pull his hands out of her grasp and throw himself out from whence he came. He didn’t want to ruin her. Pull apart her naturally warm energy with his cold, bitter touch. She was too good...for him, for the world, for life in general.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Her brows furrowed dark and heavy over gentle eyes. In the back of his mind, Diego imagines reaching out and smoothing the worry lines that formed. He considers letting his cold hands press into her skin. His fingers almost leap forward on their own accord. It takes all his inner strength to hold the eagerness back, to remind himself to keep some distance.

His hands fell limp in her grasp. She didn’t miss a beat.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Diego didn’t look at her. He knew she would catch the strand too quickly and pull the lie too fast and he wasn’t built to withstand a loss like that. “I’m okay.” But his voice caught, and he stumbled over his own falsehood. “I...just…”

“...just?”

“Tired,” Diego sighed. And he is. It’s not far from the real, full truth. “Just tired.”

Her head cocked, surveying his sunken form. Her tongue clicks; the sound made him think of a hen, and his brain imagined her fussing over him with the grace of a mother.

“You need to sleep more, honey.”

God, he loved when she called him honey.

“Nah? And miss hanging out with my favourite person?”

Her nose crinkled. If he was more alert, he would catch how her eyes glowed dull red in the lamplight, or the way she had to blink away the fuzzy feeling creeping into her mind. He’d later chide himself for it. “There’s no way I’m your favourite person.”

It was easy, though, to just know his answer was right. Not because of the fact that he could count the number of people he liked on one hand, or because she let him show up too late and stay too late and bother her until it was way too early. She was comfortable. He didn’t have to think about what he said next with her, or what was going to screw things up, or if she was going to leave him because everyone else had.

“Regardless of your lies,” she said, cutting him off before a single syllable could leave his lips, “you should sleep. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m good.”

“Yeah, and I’m a superhero.”

“Are you?”

She didn’t laugh at that, just clicked her tongue again before suddenly, out of nowhere, pulling her hands from his grasp. She left him cold and stranded on her dilapidated couch and he just watched, seeing her rush out of the room before he could protest.

“I - is--” the words failed him, because his brain failed to catch up to the point where she left him and hadn’t yet provided a reason why. Diego stared at the point he last saw her go. “Is everything okay?”

THUMP. THUMP. CRASH.

“What -- are you okay?!”

“I--” two more thumps come crashing down, echoing into the tiny living space. “I’m good! Just -- stay there!”

“How the -- what the -- why can’t I come?!”

“--don’t get up! I’ll be right back!”

It took every single inch of him to remain seated. He yearned to rush over, pull out a knife and slice through whatever danger she must be facing -- it’s only her voice that stopped him. The reminder that ‘throwing knives in her apartment is absolutely off the table, no matter the circumstances’. She taught him patience, forced him to swallow the bitter pill and remain in his seat despite the fear careening through his bruised and battered frame.

When she returned, he could see the surprise on her face that she was still there. And even when his heart raced and threatened to pop in its shallow cavity, Diego smiled. Are you proud? he wonders to himself.

“Take off your harness,” she instructed. The bundle in her arms fell to the ground with a decided plop of fabrics; his eyes immediately caught on the brightly coloured comforter, and the mound of pillows she had stuffed into it. “Get comfy, you know, whatever--”

“--what are you doing?”

“Oh,” she said, like she was only just then realising the oddity of her actions. Her gaze flitted down to the blankets, then back up to him. “Well, I just...call it setting up camp.”

That didn’t answer anything at all. “What?”

“Take off the thing-y!”

He obliged, still waiting for an answer.

She rushed forward and pulled her blankets with her. Diego followed every motion. “We’re going to make you relax. It’s cold, and I know you’re tired, and you need to take a break at some point. The city’s gonna lose it’s Knife-Boy if you don’t take a little break.”

He huffed. His gaze caught on her own, sharp and amused. “What, we’re going to cuddle?”

“Don’t laugh, honey. That’s exactly what we’re gonna do!”

“I -- what?”

Her grin is bright and unwavering. Yellow, he mused to himself, just as bright as the first rays of sun or the polkadots on her pillow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never cuddled before, honey.”

“Uh…” Shit. Crap. “Well…”

“Holy shit, have you never cuddled with someone before?!”

He shrugged haplessly, too embarrassed (was this something to be embarrassed about?) to look at her again. “Never came up in life?”

That was somewhat true. Childhood rarely offered moments of comfort amidst the grueling battles he fought with, for, and against his siblings -- and when it did, it came in brief cheek kisses and pats on the back when his father wasn’t looking and his mother saw his face fall most. He never realised there was even more to intimacy of any kind until he left the Academy and he fucked up his first relationship, then fell into another with Patch. And Patch hadn’t craved physical touch like he secretly did, so he pushed down the desire to pull her tight to him and let her leave him cold and high. He never fought for touch because simply he didn’t believe he was deserving of such things. That he was too stiff and wild and red all over to be embraced like a kid.

Not until her, did Diego crave it most. But he fought it and settled for the little things. To avoid hurting her, too.

“Oh, honey…” her voice drips of yellow sympathy, sweet and soothing against his wounded heart. He let it sink into the cut. “C’mere.”

Diego didn’t fight her. He let her pull her in. He watched, almost out of his own body, as she tugs off his gloves and tosses away his domino mask, smiling softly back at him with the gentleness of a dove. Her arms draw an inviting embrace and he would be a fool to not fall into it, even when he felt stiff and awkward in her hold.

“Relax,” she whispered into his ear. She smiled slightly when he shivered, pulling back so she could rest against his shoulder. “Just...relax.”

“You know I got places to be tonight, right?”

“Not right now, you don’t.”

“I can’t just…”

The hand that wasn’t clinging around his shoulders pulled at his fingers; he smiled despite himself as they once again twisted around his, intertwining the slender digits. He fought the urge to kiss her knuckles.

“Lay back, and relax, honey.” Her head curled in, resting more on his upper chest then. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart. “Even badass losers like yourself, need their rest.”

“You don’t have to do this, for me.”

Her face shuffled closer, moving from his chest to rest just where his neck curved down to his torso. He might have imagined it but Diego thought he felt just the slightest brush of her lips against his skin -- soft enough so he could pass it off as nothing, but there enough for him to roll the moment back, over and over and over in his mind.

“Sure, I do,” she mumbled. His embrace pressed even closer. “Everyone needs a cuddle buddy.”

Diego snorted, half out of principle and half because he never thought he’d be in a position like this with anyone. Especially not someone he would trust so indefinitely and without question. Someone who called him honey, without questioning the sounds before they left her lips. He wondered if one could get addicted to a physical sensation, and if he would be the next victim, that he would become obsessed with the feeling of someone actually holding him.

“Just relax, honey.”

And in spite of all his worries and his mind, he obeyed his heart, and did.

A/N - I’m purposely choosing not to reread and reread this because I’ll hate it. I already sort of do, a tad, but...oh well. Not my best work, but I hope this is alright and you enjoy. :)

#diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves fluff #tua x reader #hargreeves x reader #female reader #mine

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ootori-sibs · 4 years

Text

Shadow boy

Day six of @ohshc-week : childhood friends/lovers or first/last kiss

Mrs Ootori was known for her love of fashion, every time there was an event, she wore a new, custom made dress. It just so happened that there was a huge event soon, with people all over the world, the who's who of the global medical industry- and top scientists too. Her only duty was to hang off of her husband's arm and look pretty, but she always made it her mission to show him up. Because of this, she'd enlisted the help of Yuzuha Hitachiin to make her a stunning new gown.

Yuzuha knew her well, having made previous gowns for her- they weren't friends persay, Mrs Ootori was too stuck up for that, but Yuzuha liked to bring her son's with her whenever she came. Mrs Ootori had many sons, one of which was only a year older than her boys.

The twin sought out the shadow boy out, they did this every time, they wanted to know more about him- he was a mystery. Today they'd found their way into the library, not being able to read yet, they ignored the books in exchange for searching for their favourite mystery. They found him in the fiction section, fitting for such a mystery.

The shadow boy never liked the light much, he preferred the darkness and shade. His hair was as dark as the woman their mother helped, but his eyes weren't brown like hers, they were a shimmering silver- the twins had almost thought he was monochrome when they first found him. The boy smiled when he noticed them, standing and approaching them, stopping on the border of the shadows.

The twins smiled back, they were holding hands, but let go to run forward towards their friend, "shadow boy! Hello!" He'd never told them his name, he'd never actually spoken to him either, he was silent in his friendship. He didn't let them touch him either, so they gave him an air-hug.

He showed them a ladder, and led them up on top of the bookshelves, it was dark up here, and the twins and their shadow friend had to crawl, he wanted to show them something- he always wanted to show them something.

He led the twins through a vent, it was a large one, big enough for all of them… they were only three, and their shadow friend was four… it didn't take that big of a vent to hold them all. When they got out of the vent, they were in an office, make-up on one side table, paperwork on another. The desk was a vanity, the computer was new and shiny.

The twins looked around, their eyes already adjusted to the darkness, but Kaoru had brought a torch, making sure to avoid getting the shadow boy with it. They couldn't read, but by the images and make-up, the twins understood that this was Mrs Ootori's office. They wondered why the shadow boy would bring them here, what purpose did they have here?

But the shadow boy grabbed a stool, dragging it over to a wall, reaching up and going to grab a book. He brought it down to show them, placing it on the floor. Kaoru carefully trained his torch on it, it was a book; a big, leather bound, storybook. Hikaru was the one who opened the book, "woah… this is awesome!"

Kaoru nodded, noticing how the shadow boy smiled, "yeah! Amazing! Do you want us to read the voices? Our maids do that for us." The boy's eyes lit up, and the twins both saw his hands ball up happily, he nodded at them, almost silently gasping- the loudest sound they'd heard from him.

The twins once again, couldn't read- it seemed the shadow boy hadn't realised yet. His surprised expression when the twins made up their own dialogue based on the images, making it much funnier then the stories actually were- at least in their opinion; they'd given the villain a horrible voice, made the princess sound like an old man, and their worst offence of all; they gave the prince charming the squeakiest voice they could muster.

This upset the shadow boy.

He'd stood up, turning and hammering on the door until a maid unlocked it for him, the maid asked him how he got in there, since the door was locked. This surprised the twins- other people could see their shadow friend? This was news to them, they didn't think he could be seen. But he didn't seem to see her, running past, completely ignoring the light he was so usually avoidant of.

The twins gave chase, they'd never see their shadow friend so upset- they've seen him cry, sure, but never run straight into the light, he hated the light. So they ran, calling out for their shadow friend to stop, trying to ask what's wrong. After a few seconds, and corridors, later, the twins realise that their friend is headed towards the room where their mother and Mrs Ootori were- and Mrs Ootori was famed for her temper, so they were scared what would happen.

He burst into the room, clearly more terrified than sad by how bright the room was, running to the side of Mrs Ootori and clinging to her, sobbing into her gown. The twins entered soon after, pausing at this sight. All eyes were now on them; their mother looked alarmed, and Mrs Ootori looked furious. "What did you do to my baby?"

She had asked them a simple question, commanding and demeaning- but the twins weren't listening, they didn't care about her dumb status. "That's not your baby, that's our shadow friend!" They huffed in unison, Hikaru hopping up to turn the light off as Kaoru switched the torch on.

Both adults were surprised by both the words and the actions of the twins, Mrs Ootori was even more angered by this. She stomped forward, knocking the shadow boy to the floor- who quickly got up and hid under a table, hands over his head. Mrs Ootori, she must have been around six foot, she towered over the boys, glaring, "how dare you! My son is no one's shadow!" The twins were shaking now, having never been yelled at like this by an adult before, the woman continued; "have you been bullying him?? Why is he crying?"

"Leave my sons alone!" Their mother snapped at her, "they haven't done anything to deserve getting screamed at, they're kids for heaven's sake!" The twins mother was an angel, she stood up to the demon woman, standing and glaring.

The demon scoffed, "oh no wonder they're such brats if you never yell at them! I yell at my sons all the time and they all turn out perfectly." The twins both bristle at the idea of this monster yelling at their poor sweet shadow friend, this demon was terrifying.

They'd blocked that day out of their memory.

Losing their first friend, being yelled at for the first time, their mother had gotten so frustrated she'd punched her mannequin… they didn't want to remember it; so they didn't.

Years later, they had friends, real friends- nothing like the ghost of that old mansion. They had Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai, who sat in the corner making tea and coffee. They had Haruhi, who was watching everything with a tired but lovable expression. They had Tamaki… who was being an idiot, he was floundering around, crying about something or other Haruhi had said.

"My darling daughter hates me! Oh woe is I!"

The twins snickered at that, rolling their eyes. Tamaki must have noticed that, because he gasped, looking at them, "how dare you mock my misery! What's so funny about a daughter hating her father?"

Hikaru raised an eyebrow at that, "oh come on boss…" he and Kaoru shared a glance, before looking back at Tamaki, putting on the fake whining voice used to mock stupid people; "ooh~ my darling daughter hates me! Oh woe- oh woe is I~!"

There was a scoff from behind them, from a table not far back, Kyoya was rolling his eyes, "what is it with you two and giving princes squeaky voices?" He had chuckled to himself, but the question had made the twins freeze… Kyoya was right, they did use that voice for all princes, and had since they were little. But there was no way for Kyoya to know that, only the twins' family had heard them read stories, family and- oh. Oh.

"Wh!" The twins span around at lightning speed, looking at Kyoya with wide eyes, "You were the shadow boy??"

This got the other hosts' attention fast, though Kyoya just raised an eyebrow, "you weren't aware? I did wonder why you started out just as distant to me as you were with Tamaki," he chuckled lightly, actually smiling slightly, "I know you were four but please; a year older than you, we were always at my house, your mother did the gowns for mine- what other conclusion could you have come to?"

The twins… felt a little stupid at that, but Hikaru admitted to their belief, "we honestly thought you were a ghost, hence the whole 'shadow boy' thing…"

"A ghost?" Kyoya seemed to find the whole thing amusing, and the twins noticed how the light reflected off of his her black hair, how the light made his eyes shine behind his glasses… why had he used to hate it so? "I suppose your little nickname fits now, what with people referring to me as the 'shadow king', seems I've gotten a promotion." He had paused, and the twins glanced around to see the confusion in the other hosts' faces, but they didn't matter right now, not in the face of their shadow friend. "Why did you believe me to be a spirit?"

"Oh that's easy!" Kaoru smiled, beginning to list of all the reason their shadow friend was different; "you always hid in dark spaces, never came out to play anywhere bright, we never saw you anywhere but the mansion, you were never there when we arrived, we always had to go searching for you, you always had something to show us, it was always a secret- plus you never once spoke to us dude, you didn't ever even introduce yourself the entire time."

Hikaru spoke up at that, looking thoughtful, "why did you never speak the whole time we knew you?"

Kyoya paused at that, "oh, well some people have- ...things, that they can't do properly, and sometimes those things are amplified by situations, but like a lot of things, they can be learnt from, and moved past," he stopped for a moment, before nodding to himself, "yes, I had quite a bit of trouble with speaking when I was younger, it's nothing to be ashamed of personally, but some people are ashamed of me nonetheless." Was that a joke..? That was a really sad joke, the twins didn't quite know how to take it.

They didn't have to respond though, as Honey hopped over towards them, "wow Kyo-chan! Do you have the same fear as Nekozawa-chan?"

Kyoya shook his head, "well I did when I was five, I grew out of it by the time I was around six or seven, I couldn't have been able to do all too well in school otherwise." He shrugs, going back to his book, "either way, you never answered my question about the voices, why do you insist on such dreadful voices for prince characters?"

The twins had to shrug at that, smiling, "we just think it's funny."

"Well I still don't, it's rather immature. But at least it isn't in a moment of vulnerability this time," and with that, the conversation was over, Kyoya clearly wasn't going to respond to further questioning, so everyone went back to how they were before.

But not Kaoru, Kaoru got closer to Kyoya's table, hands resting on it in fact, "out of curiosity, do you still have that book?"

Kyoya just nodded, "I've had it since I was a baby, it'd be a shame to throw it out now."

Kaoru nodded slowly, a mischievous smirk growing on his face, "and how would you feel if I read you the stories again, using proper voices this time?" He watched Kyoya pause, glancing up at him but clearly not wanting Kaoru to know he's looking, so Kaoru does something even more daring; he winks.

Kyoya chuckles lightly at that, "as long as we can have the lights off."

It was a funny feeling; Kyoya having been his first friend. The idea that this money grubbing mastermind was once his sweet shadow friend, the silent, always watching shadow king- he was once actually silent. He remembers first joining the club, looking at Kyoya and wondering why Tamaki hung out with such an asshole, before realising he and Hikaru were also assholes and that this must be, like, Tamaki's hobby or something. But about a month in Kaoru was wondering why Kyoya hung out with Tamaki, Kyoya was of a much higher calibre- and he knew it. Though it was clear he considered Tamaki to be superior, even though Tamaki's only real power was as club president- and family-wise too Kaoru supposed.

They were sitting in the dark now, Kaoru had a torch- it wasn't the same torch, that old thing was long gone- but it felt the same… yet somehow completely different. They were older now, they knew who they were a little more, Kyoya could speak now- he could audibly react to the things Kaoru was saying, he could laugh… Kaoru loved that laugh, he'd only ever heard Kyoya chuckle before, his laugh was wonderful; it was a full on villain laugh, but not a cackle, not anything malicious, just a genuine powerful laugh, the kind you'd see of a kid villain- but not the bratty kind. It was also different because Kaoru was here of his own accord, every time he'd visited the Ootori mansion before he'd been dragged there by someone else, this time he was he because he'd decided to be- and he was here without Hikaru.

Kaoru had just finished reading the third story in the book; Cinderella- but at some point, Kyoya had taken a pen, and changed all of Cinderella's pronouns to his own- he'd done that for every character that was his favourite in each story. The ending was always different if he wasn't the princess, his favourite always got a prince of their own- even when it wasn't the main prince. Kaoru found it amusing, if a little concerned, was it reflected of the chances he had with Kyoya? After all; they already had a prince character, and Kaoru wasn't charming at all.

He glanced to his side, Kyoya was completely relaxed, somehow having slid under the covers of the bed without Kaoru having noticed, he truly was a shadow wasn't he? "You're going to get cold like that, you should copy me." Oh, he wanted Kaoru to get into bed with him? Well Kaoru was never one to turn down an offer like that, especially if it was completely innocent- he loved a good cuddle.

Surprisingly enough, Kyoya had actually leaned into him halfway through the princess and the frog, mouthing the words along as Kaoru had said them, how sweet… But when Kaoru got to a line that read: 'but I'm only a small frog, who would ever kiss me?', he heard Kyoya mutter words verbally- but a little different to how it was written…

"...but I'm only a shadow, who would ever kiss me..?"

Kaoru paused, knowing he wasn't meant to hear that, but maybe he was meant to hear it… it sounded like fate. He did it without thinking; he tilted Kyoya's head up and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, before muttering back, "you'll find your prince someday…"

He knew there was no chance of getting with Kyoya, it was safe to assume the shadow had his eyes on a prince already- Kaoru was nowhere near being a prince. But just one kiss, a stolen one at that- if that was all he got, he was happy with that, he didn't need anything special-

"...I don't think I even want a prince anymore…" Kyoya hadn't moved even an inch from the position Kaoru had put him in, but the moment Kaoru looked down at him, Kyoya got up onto his knees. He looked at Kaoru with something Kaoru had only ever seen in girls before, just before their hearts were shattered… "I want to be a shadow boy forever."

Oh. It was Kaoru's heart that felt something painful, but it was a good pain- like his heart had taken a sharp gasp of its own accord. He smiled softly, putting the book down- but not closing it, and turning his torch off, it was pitch black now. "You… are so much more than a shadow boy now, Kyoya- you're a shadow king, it's not some dumb title. It's your truth… and I love the truth."

It wasn't a love confession, Kaoru couldn't do those, and neither could Kyoya- they were simply both too closed off and quiet to express themselves without the aid of their respective extroverts assistance, though Kaoru realised Hikaru was definitely more of an ambivert at this point. It might not have been a confession of love, but it was a confession of something alright, and they kissed, more than just a quick stolen one- this kiss was real, this kiss was warm, and it tasted of coffee…

They broke the kiss after a while, sitting in pitch black as they sat in silence. Neither of them wanted to speak, so they didn't. Kaoru wanted to know the time, but he didn't want to check his phone, so he sat there, wondering. It was clearly dark, from the little he could see of the outside, from the windows downstairs, so he could be forgiven if he fell asleep here…

The book had been moved, and so had the torch, Kaoru hadn't even noticed. He now glanced down at Kyoya who was laying down, looking up at him, and the little light present reflected in his eyes- though Kaoru couldn't see much else of him at all. Instead of seeing, Kaoru felt, realising how Kyoya was allowing him to touch now, the shadow boy would have always been too scared to even high five, Kyoya let Kaoru rest a hand on his hip as he lay down- Kyoya had let Kaoru kiss him. Soon, they were laying down next to each other; facing each other, Kaoru noticed how Kyoya shuffled closer, bowing his head slightly but leaving it to Kaoru to close the gap, to cuddle him.

Kaoru was the smaller of the two, but Kyoya was the one resting his head near Kaoru's chest, though the shadow boy had always been soft- Kaoru couldn't blame him, or complain in the slightest. It was strange to be sleeping next to someone other than Hikaru, but it was nice- completely different though: with Hikaru they'd squabble over who had the most cover, over who got to sleep what side, they rarely cuddled- contrary to popular belief, plus they only really held hands when they could do it comfortably. But with Kyoya, Kaoru found himself making sure Kyoya had enough blanket, he found himself almost cradling the taller boy as if was prone to shatter at any moment, he even found himself humming one of the many disney songs he'd learnt the tube to through osmosis, he was fairly sure this was a love song- either way it was relaxing and sweet.

He remembered being shown this room, though there was a fortress here then, made of cardboard and plastic and paint, a safe haven that the shadow boy had loved to show to the twins, though he'd gotten visibly upset when Hikaru had tried to climb over the walls instead of using the door. Kaoru remembered this fondly, glancing down to realise that said shadow boy had fallen asleep in his arms. Kaoru then allowed himself to stop humming, yawning and nuzzling Kyoya's hair before settling his head down on the pillow, quickly drifting off to a funny thought that made him feel fuzzy inside:

It was a funny feeling; Kyoya having been his first friend and his first kiss.

#kyoya ootori #ouran high school host club #ohshcweek #hikaru and kaoru #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #kyokao

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eastertag · 3 years

Text

Take A Chance On Me

@tsarinatorment gift for @singmetothesun

—

So, my person is @singmetothesun, who gave me some rather contradictory prompts, although I still tried to at least nod to all of them:

1. “TAG Scott & Alan with Dad!Scott because I love their relationship” - twisted a lot but I hope it still counts 2. “Anything 2004 Movieverse because it’s my fav universe 😇” - check! 3. “TAG Gordon - maybe whump, but my fav bean being a badass” - uhh… the spirit was there when I was writing?

Without further ado, here we go and I hope you like it!

—–

Thirteen. Scott, John, Virgil and Gordon had all had their first flying lesson when they turned thirteen, but when it was Alan’s turn, Dad said no.

On a completely unrelated note, Scott is the world’s best big brother.

It wasn’t fair. He was thirteen now, but Dad still insisted on treating him like a child. Alan had been looking forwards to spring break ever since his birthday, knowing that now he was thirteen he, like his brothers before him, would take his first steps towards flying a plane.

Flying a Thunderbird, and joining his brothers in the ranks of International Rescue. One step closer to his dream, and he couldn’t wait.

Except… Except Dad had said no.

No.

You’re still too young.

Once your grades improve.

There had also been a reminder about the chemistry accident that had got him expelled and shuffled over to Wharton’s, which Alan hated on so many levels. The sole positive was at least none of his teachers were comparing him to his brothers anymore. Even Fermat coming with him wasn’t a positive – not because he didn’t want his best friend with him, but because it meant new people for the smaller boy, new potential bullies, new people who didn’t look past the stutter to see how awesome he was. He was glad he wasn’t alone, but he hated that he’d inflicted that on Fermat – all because his chemistry teacher had a grudge against Gordon that he’d imposed onto Alan.

It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t meant to explode the lab, but no-one believed him and now his Dad thought that meant he couldn’t handle a plane? Alan wasn’t a baby any more, but there were tears of frustration in his eyes, running down his cheeks, dripping salt on his lips.

He’d already screamed himself hoarse at his bedroom door, and with another throaty yell, he snatched up the nearest object and hurtled it at the door, just as it started to open.

Lightning-fast reflexes caught his phone just before it smashed into his brother’s face. Blue eyes widened at the projectile in his hand, before Scott pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“Hey, Al,” he said, nudging past the threshold despite Alan not saying he could.

“Not in the mood, Scott,” he retorted, looking away. “Leave me alone.”

His eldest brother sighed. “If that’s what you want,” he said, in a tone that clearly said he didn’t think Alan wanted that. “But if I leave you now, there won’t be time.”

Despite knowing it was one of Scott’s tricks, Alan couldn’t help his curiosity. “Time for what?” he asked, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the wall and nowhere near his invading brother.

“I organised a welcome home for you,” Scott told him. “Do you want to come?”

Alan hadn’t grown up with four older brothers not to recognise scheming when he heard it. If it was Gordon, he’d have thrown whatever else he could at him until he left, because it wouldn’t end well and Dad would get mad. But Scott wasn’t like that. Was he?

“Right now?” It couldn’t wait until after he was over the betrayal of not getting the same privileges as his brothers?

“Now’s the only chance,” Scott said, an apologetic smile on his face. “You don’t have to hang around for long if you don’t want to. Just give it a go?”

Scott was still holding onto his phone. Alan glanced at it, and then back at his brother. He knew Scott was planning something, because having four older brothers meant he wasn’t stupid, but also… it was Scott. Scott didn’t pick on him the same way their other brothers did.

Dad had let him down, but maybe he could still trust Scott.

With a great show of reluctance, he padded across the floor to where Scott was waiting, that smile still on his face.

“You’ll need shoes, Al,” he said. “Not those.”

Alan glanced down at the crocs he was wearing, and then at Scott’s feet. His brother was wearing boots, despite the rule of no boots indoors.

Seeing Scott break one of Dad’s nonsensical rules made Alan feel a little better, even if something bitter swelled in his chest. If Scott got caught breaking rules, he’d just get told not to do it again. Alan would get all his failures thrown straight in his face.

But Scott was telling him to. Surely Scott wouldn’t let Dad yell at him if it was his fault?

Scott glanced at his watch, and Alan got the message. Some weird time limit on welcoming him home, as though he hadn’t already had a welcome home from his family the moment he’d set foot on the island.

Still, Alan was curious enough to investigate, and kicked off his crocs before hunting down socks and his boots from where one had somehow slipped under his bed. Scott stayed by the door, almost seeming like he was standing guard. He kept glancing at his watch, and then down the hallway. Either he was waiting for something… or he was hoping something wouldn’t happen.

Alan’s curiosity was peaked further.

“Well?” he demanded, tucking the laces in rather than tying them up in the interest of time. Blue eyes zeroed in on the action and Scott rolled his eyes. It did, however, get him away from the door as he crouched down to tie Alan’s boots properly, like he was five again. “Scott, I thought you were in a hurry?”

“Hurrying won’t get us anywhere if you trip up,” Scott reprimanded lightly, tying the laces in perfectly neat, symmetrical bows. Alan had never understood how he did that. “There you go.” He straightened, and with a grin that looked almost like it belonged on Gordon’s face – almost – he headed for the door. “Come on, then.”

Still curious what Scott was planning, and not willing to be caught wearing the boots without his brother there to take the blame, Alan darted to join him.

“What’s the hurry, anyway?” he asked. Scott glanced at his watch again.

“Dad’s in a meeting,” he said, voice just a little quieter than normal.

It didn’t take Alan long to connect the dots.

“We’re dodging Dad?” he asked, voice maybe a little too loud, judging by the way Scott shh’d him.

His brother didn’t reply, but he grinned a little wider and Alan relaxed. If it was something Dad wouldn’t be happy about… Well, at least Scott wouldn’t sell him out.

Scott led them down familiar hallways, and then stopped at an even more familiar doorway. The no entry, Alan if I catch you in here without me you’ll be grounded until you’re twenty one doorway. Alan watched him glance around – no-one was there – before he keyed a number into the pad.

He didn’t hide it from Alan. Dad always made him look away, but Scott just punched it in as though there was nothing to hide. Naturally, Alan watched and memorised it. It was randomised – no meaning that he could discern – but he’d always had a good memory. Once was enough.

Shouldn’t Scott know that?

The door opened, and Scott stepped through, beckoning for him to follow. The thrill of disobeying Dad – and the safety net of a big brother to pin the blame on if Dad found out – found him bounding in immediately, straight into the elevator down to the hangars.

Not just any hangars. The Thunderbird hangars.

Alan had never been down there without Dad gripping his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Scott kept his hands to himself.

“Before we get there, I need you to promise two things, Alan.”

He looked up at his brother, who was regarding him with a serious expression. Considering where they were going, Alan would promise anything to get there.

“What?” he asked, just to be sure Scott wasn’t pulling his leg.

“Number one – don’t tell Dad about any of this.”

Dad would yell and be furious if he found out. Alan had no problems promising that. “And the other?”

“Don’t come here without me.”

The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding open to reveal the locked door of a silo.

Thunderbird One’s silo.

Alan had never been in Thunderbird One’s silo. Dad always deemed it too dangerous whenever he asked. When you’re older.

“Alan.”

He looked away from the door, its small viewing window showing the same silver he’d seen countless times erupting from the pool, but never this close. Scott’s blue eyes had lost all their humour and were looking at him with nothing but seriousness.

Alan wasn’t a kid anymore. He understood. If Dad ever caught him in here… The shouting match from earlier would be nothing. Scott would get in trouble, too. Big trouble. He was taking a risk. For him.

To cheer him up, he realised.

Sure, he didn’t always get on with his brothers, and Scott was almost twice his age – an age gap dramatic enough that he didn’t understand him all the time – but he still loved them. Even if they had an annoying habit of picking on him because he was the youngest. He’d still never loved Scott quite like this before.

“I promise,” he said, solemn and serious to match his brother because this? This was huge.

Scott smiled at him, and Alan watched breathlessly as he punched in the access code. Again, not bothering to try and hide it, and now Alan knew – it wasn’t that Scott didn’t know he’d memorise it, Scott trusted him with the knowledge.

Scott was treating him like an adult.

The door slid open, and Scott stepped in.

“Watch your step,” he said. “It’s a long way down.”

Alan followed, and glanced down. The mesh gantry floor beneath his feet was suspended far, far in the air. Beneath him, he could see those white letters. Thunderbird 1. The T was as big as he was.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

His gaze snapped to Scott, who was watching him with something Alan would call nervousness if it wasn’t Scott. His hand was resting on the silver hull of the jet, a soft caress Alan didn’t need to see to know how much his brother loved his Thunderbird.

Maybe he was a little nervous as he waited for Alan’s first impressions. His judgement of the plane his brother loved so much.

Alan had always loved Thunderbird One. Maybe it was because she was the one he saw launch the most – right in front of the villa, impossible to miss. Maybe it was her speed, the roar she made as she vanished in the blink of an eye. Maybe it was just that little flash of red at her nose. It wasn’t so little now he was standing on the gantry and it towered above him, at least the height of the brother still standing there, still touching his Thunderbird with a love he’d only ever seen aimed towards family.

“Wow,” was all he could manage. Scott smiled, clearly delighted with his simple, one-word response.

“I can’t teach you to pilot a plane,” he said, an apologetic note in his voice. “I can’t take that from Dad.”

Alan scowled, not liking the sudden reminder of the argument, how Dad had told him he wasn’t good enough to learn even though the rest of his brothers all got to learn aged thirteen – even Gordon, who barely cared about anything that wasn’t aquatic – but then Scott kept talking and his jaw dropped to the floor.

“But I can teach you to pilot a Thunderbird. What do you say, Al?”

What did he say? What could he say to that? Scott… Scott- Was Scott offering to teach him to pilot Thunderbird One?

His mouth opened but no sound came out. Scott laughed and moved forwards, hand dropping from Thunderbird One’s hull and instead finding its way onto Alan’s shoulder.

“Well?” he asked, and he was smiling like he was the happiest man in the world.

Alan tried again. His voice squeaked and he flushed red as words he didn’t mean to say tumbled out. “Isn’t she yours, though?”

He wanted to swallow them back straight away. He was supposed to be saying yes, not giving Scott reasons to change his mind!

Scott chuckled.

“Of course she’s mine,” he said. “But we all know how to operate each others’ ‘birds, Al. You’ll need to know them all, too.”

He said it simply, as though it was a plain fact of life. One day Alan would need to know how to operate all the Thunderbirds. One day Alan would be a Thunderbird.

Scott was still smiling at him. Dad might be saying no but Scott was saying yes and Alan knew Dad’s word was final, but if Scott was so sure…

Alan knew enough about the command structure of International Rescue to know Scott was second in command, and maybe he’d secretly accused his biggest brother of being a rule stickler and a suck-up because he always seemed to do whatever Dad said anyway, but this wasn’t obeying Dad.

If Scott could teach him to pilot Thunderbird One without Dad’s permission, then maybe, one day, Scott could bring him into International Rescue anyway.

“Come on,” his brother said, and Alan’s eyes widened as a panel moved aside, revealing the interior of Thunderbird One.

He’d never seen it before. Despite the windows surrounding the cockpit, her launch speed never gave him a chance to peer inside, and even if he happened to catch Scott landing again, it was pretty difficult to make out the interior.

There were four seats. Pilot, co-pilot, and two passenger behind. Scott slipped inside first, gripping onto hand-holds and stepping on struts until he was in the far seat. From what Alan knew of planes, that was the- the co-pilot’s seat.

Why was Scott in the co-pilot’s seat of his own Thunderbird?

He edged cautiously over to the Thunderbird, reaching out tentatively to touch her hull. Part of him was sure he had to be dreaming, that there was nothing there and he’d wake up the moment he tried to make contact.

The rest of him met Scott’s eyes, his brother’s matching blue full of encouragement, and with a deep breath he made contact.

He didn’t wake up. Dad didn’t appear out of nowhere and start yelling. His fingers didn’t slip through.

The metal was cool, confirmation that she hadn’t launched in a while. Alan knew that, followed his brothers’ rescues with an avid enough obsession that he was gaining a reputation for it at school. Thunderbird Three had responded to a manned satellite in distress yesterday, but it had been three days since Thunderbird One had last launched.

A hand reached for him, and he blinked. Scott was leaning over, across the pilot’s seat and offering him his hand.

“Ready, Al?” he asked. Alan eyed the hand, and then his brother. Scott looked excited, and he realised his big brother was looking forward to teaching him.

He took the hand.

“Watch where you step,” Scott cautioned. “See the bar by your right foot?” Alan looked down and nodded. “Step on it.”

One hand in Scott’s firm grip, and the other fumbling to catch the edge of the cockpit door, Alan obeyed. Scott’s smile widened.

“Now the bar above your head,” he said, and step by step, Alan followed his instructions until he was sat in the seat.

It felt weird, but in a comfortable way. Like laying on his bedroom floor but hooking his feet on his bed.

“Welcome to the best ‘bird in the fleet,” Scott said, and Alan could hear both the smugness that always accompanied his brothers’ insistences that their ‘bird was the best and the same love he’d seen in the caress.

One of his other brothers might make a quip then, and if Alan wasn’t so awestruck about finally being inside a Thunderbird, he would, too. Something about there being too much blue for Thunderbird Three.

Instead, he sent his big brother the biggest grin he could muster, feeling moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. If Scott noticed, he didn’t comment.

“The first lesson’s a bit boring, I’m afraid,” he said, and while he still sounded light-hearted, his face was a little more serious. “But it’s necessary, so I need you to pay really close attention, okay? We can’t move on until you’ve completely mastered it.”

There was more and more seriousness in his voice as he spoke, until the humour was all but gone, and Alan nodded his understanding.

He wasn’t a child anymore. Whatever Scott had to teach him about piloting Thunderbird One – Thunderbird One! – it was important.

“Okay.” Scott reached over to something above his head, and Alan craned his neck to see a solid blue harness that looked like it belonged on a roller coaster just before it swung down and locked in front of him. “Safety features.”

Alan muffled his groan. Scott had said it would be boring, but he’d still been hoping for something a little less mind-numbing.

Luckily, Scott wasn’t in such a serious mode that he couldn’t crack a small smile as he pulled his own harness down.

“I know,” he said, somewhat sympathetically. “But we can’t rescue anyone if we get in trouble ourselves, so you’re going to have to learn this stuff until you don’t even have to think about it.” His small smile widened into a grin. “If you pay attention, it won’t take too long.”

And with those encouraging words, the lecture began.

There was a lot of safety rules.

Alan was also pretty sure Scott’s definition of won’t take too long was not the same as his, but despite it all being to do with safety, his big brother managed to at least make it interesting. The knowledge that he wouldn’t let Alan do anything else – let alone start learning to actually pilot – until he learnt it all was also powerful motivation.

Halfway through an explanation on which rules changed depending on whether or not the sweep wings were extended, Scott’s communicator bleeped. His brother cut off, and motioned for Alan to be quiet.

He held his breath, determined not to let a single sound out.

“Time’s up.” Gordon was talking quietly, and hurriedly. “The meeting ended early.”

Scott inhaled sharply, and Alan had to fight not to do the same. The only meeting he knew of was Dad’s, and if that was over… If Dad found them – him – in Thunderbird One-

“Distract him.” There was an edge to Scott’s voice Alan hadn’t heard before. It was a bit like his get out of the pool, Gordon voice, when he was pulling big brother rank to get a younger brother to obey, but wasn’t quite the same. A little sharper. Crisper.

He was throwing Gordon under the bus. There was no way Gordon would-

“F.A.B.”

-obey that.

Gordon’s voice had been similar. Serious in a way his immediate brother rarely was.

Professional.

The call ended as Alan reeled from the realisation those had been their International Rescue voices – Field Commander and Operative. Dad had never let him near Command and Control, not for briefings, rescues or debriefs. He’d never heard his brothers when they were in International Rescue mode.

Scott slithered around him, hands and feet finding the holds without seeming to even think about it, and then he was standing on the gantry, hands reaching for him. “Sorry, Al,” he said. “That’s all for today.”

With the safety lecture still ringing in his ears, Alan accepted the help back out of the Thunderbird. He didn’t know how long Gordon could distract Dad for before he realised two of his sons were not where they should be, and just the thought of Dad finding out terrified him.

Scott’s fingers flew over a panel, and the entrance to the Thunderbird slid shut seamlessly. His brother did a few more checks, presumably to make sure there was no sign of access, and then a hand was on his shoulder, nudging him out of the silo and back to the elevator.

“John, we’re out of the silo.”

“F.A.B.” his second-eldest brother said, all business – and that voice Alan did recognise, because it had interrupted his calls to John for homework help often enough. There was a pause. “All cleared.”

Some rigidness seemed to seep from Scott’s shoulder as the elevator rose, and Alan blinked as a warm arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him snugly against his brother.

“Sorry about the abrupt ending,” Scott apologised. “We’ll pick back up again next time, okay?”

Next time?

Alan squeaked, and Scott smiled widely.

“You didn’t think you were going to learn everything on one go, did you?” he asked, sounding amused. “I can’t promise a schedule – we’ll have to work around whenever Dad’s too busy to notice – but you’ll learn to fly her, I promise.”

Words failed Alan, and there was that moisture in his eyes again, so he did the only thing he could think of and twisted in his brother’s hold until he could wrap his arms around Scott tightly enough his brother was forced to exhale a quiet oof.

Scott chuckled fondly, and Alan felt him return the hug. “You’re welcome, Al.”

The elevator docked and Alan slithered out of his brother’s hold as the doors slid open, only to freeze at the sight awaiting them.

Virgil said nothing, and for one dreadful moment Alan feared that was it, Dad knew. Then his brother winked at him, a grin breaking across his face. As he tentatively followed Scott out, he saw that the hallway was otherwise clear.

Then there was a hand on his head, mussing up his perfectly styled hair, and he sent a glower at the culprit. Virgil just grinned at him again, before looking over his head at Scott.

“Gordon says he can hold him five minutes,” he said. “That was three minutes ago, so you’d better hurry.”

“F.A.B.” Scott replied. “Come on, Al. Let’s go.”

Alan let himself be led away, his brain spinning. First Gordon, then John. Now Virgil. Were… were all his brothers in on it?

Had they planned it?

They arrived at his bedroom door before he could figure out a way to ask.

“Boots,” Scott muttered, nudging him into his room. “And remember: don’t tell Dad, and not without me.”

Alan nodded his promise again, and watched as Scott darted off in the direction of his own room, presumably to take his own boots off.

He yanked his off, stuffing them back in the closet where they lived, before collapsing onto his bed. Something dug into his hip, and he scrabbled at it until it was retrieved.

It was his phone, no doubt dropped there by Scott when he’d fussed over his laces.

Alan stared at it. The temptation to tell Fermat what his brother – brothers – had done was strong, but while Scott hadn’t told him he shouldn’t… the more people that knew, the more likely Dad was to find out. Besides, Fermat would be with Brains, and they were probably too busy talking geek to listen to him even if he tried.

And maybe Alan was looking forwards to the day he could surprise his best friend with the knowledge he could pilot Thunderbird One.

Scott kept his word. Lessons were sporadic, lengths varying depending on how long Dad could be distracted for by either work or a combination of his brothers, but they kept happening as often as his brother seemed to be able to wrangle it.

By the end of Spring Break, he had a decent grasp of the basic controls.

Summer Break, and he successfully ran through the sims without a single mistake. Scott had beamed with pride. Virgil had made noises, and Alan had been introduced to Thunderbird Two.

Winter Break, and Gordon staked his own claim. All the years of scuba diving at his brother’s insistence had paid off, and the thought crept into his head that his brothers had been prepping him for far longer than he’d realised.

Then came the Worst Spring Break Ever.

Alan had been angry – angry at his brothers, at his Dad, at anything and everything – and he’d broken his promise. He’d gone to Thunderbird One without Scott, and from there, everything went wrong.

Too wrong to think about, but underneath it all was the underlying thank fuck that Scott had disobeyed Dad last year. Thankfulness that his brothers had taught him to pilot their ‘birds, thankfulness that it meant the Hood didn’t get his way and kill all those people while sullying International Rescue’s name. His family’s name.

But Dad had acknowledged him. Him, and Fermat, and Tin-Tin. The pin on his shirt was heavy, an unfamiliar weight he’d been waiting for for as long as he could remember. A member of International Rescue. Technically a trainee, but thanks to Scott and his other brothers he’d been an unofficial trainee for a year already. Finally, Dad had let him in.

Alan had almost forgotten how it had all started, until after Lady Penelope had gone back home to England, citing something important or other that needed to be done. Spy things.

Then Dad struck.

“Alan.” He was familiar with that tone – too familiar. That was disapproving Dad, in a very sudden change from the proud father he’d been enjoying in the hours earlier. His brothers – all four of them, with John still rarely down on Earth – stilled where they’d been teasing each other. They knew the tone, too.

Alan had become used to Scott’s presence, and didn’t need to look to know his biggest brother had positioned himself just behind him in silent support. He didn’t lean into him, but the temptation was there.

“You never told me how you knew Thunderbird One’s access codes,” Dad said. Compared to the warmth of earlier, the words were ice cold and doused Alan with a harsh dose of reality. He’d broken his promise to Scott and Dad had found out. That was both promises broken. “And I’d like to know when you learnt to pilot the Thunderbirds.”

Alan had messed up. He’d messed up big time, but he was a Tracy and he might have broken his promises, but the only thing running through his mind right then was that he couldn’t let Scott take the fall. A year ago, he’d been more than happy to hide behind his eldest brother, but Alan was older now.

Or maybe he couldn’t bear the idea of Scott getting in trouble after the hell they’d all had.

“I hacked the sims,” he said, pushing all the bravado he could muster into the words and meeting his father dead in the eye, daring him to doubt him.

“And the access codes?” If looks could kill, Alan would have been zapped on the spot.

“I guessed.”

“First time?” Dad said, doubt clearly oozing from every pore. Alan refused to cower. He couldn’t cower. He had to protect Scott, make sure Dad didn’t find out that Scott had disobeyed him.

He owed Scott that much.

“First time,” he retorted.

“You expect me to believe you successfully hacked the sims without anyone noticing often enough to teach yourself to pilot three Thunderbirds, and correctly guessed Thunderbird One’s access code first time?” Dad sounded furious.

“Yes,” Alan snapped back. “I-”

A hand landed on his shoulder and tugged him back. A blink later and he was staring at his eldest brother’s back.

“I taught him,” Scott said. “Dad, I taught Alan to pilot the Thunderbirds. He got the access code from me, too.”

“Scott!” Alan hissed, unable to believe what was happening. Scott was rigid, stiff enough that all he was missing was the salute to flash back to his air force days, and Alan recognised defensive body language when he saw it – even if he’d never seen it on Scott before. “Scott, no-”

Scott turned his head, and Alan was silenced by a small smile. “I appreciate you trying to cover for me, Al,” he said. “But you don’t have to take the fall for this.”

“Scott.”

At Dad’s voice, Scott’s head snapped forward again. Alan tried to peer around his brother to get a read on Dad’s face – he couldn’t be too mad at Scott, could he? But Alan had also never heard his voice that cold. If Absolute Zero had a sound, Alan suspected it would be like that.

No-one spoke. Alan found himself holding his breath. Then Dad broke the silence with two words that said so much more.

“My office.”

Alan wanted to shout and scream. That wasn’t fair! Scott was the eldest, was second-in-command. He wasn’t supposed to be hauled to the office to be reamed out with the full force of Dad’s temper!

But he couldn’t talk. Hands were finding his arms, his shoulders, and pulling him back into a defensive cocoon of brothers, away from Dad’s line of sight.

Still straight-backed, still stiff as cardboard, Scott obeyed. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look back at them, and Alan wasn’t sure if it was because he thought Dad would somehow get even angrier if he did, or if he just didn’t want to look at them.

Dad didn’t follow immediately, and despite himself Alan found himself thankful for the cluster of brothers half-shielding him from the piercing gaze of his father. It rested on each of them in turn, and Alan realised he was putting the facts together, realising Scott couldn’t have pulled it off long enough for him to actually learn as much as he clearly had without some back-up.

Realising that Alan had been able to pilot Thunderbirds Two and Four as well.

It was John standing in front, taking Scott’s place as the shield. John, the only brother who hadn’t directly taught him anything, but had been instrumental in keeping the access logs and security footage clear of incriminating evidence.

Alan waited with bated breath, anticipating orders for more brothers to go to Dad’s office and join Scott in disgrace, but after a too-long moment of silence, Dad just turned and walked away.

Only once he was gone did the tension ease from the room, his brothers’ shoulders dropping and dramatic exhales of air filling the room – mostly from Gordon, who was clearly exaggerating them.

“Scott,” Alan found himself whimpering, staring wide-eyed at the stairs that lead to Dad’s office.

“Dad was always going to find out one day,” John told him, turning around and putting his good hand on his shoulder. Physical contact from him was rare, and Alan straightened his spine on instinct. “Scott knew we couldn’t hide how much you’d learnt forever.”

“We could have done without the timing, though,” Gordon chipped in. Alan glanced at him to see his face twisted into something between a wince and a grimace.

“Are you all going to be in trouble?” he asked, feeling a little small.

John gave him a small, sad grin. “We’ll be fine. Scott’ll take the fall for all of us.”

That didn’t seem fair. They had all disobeyed Dad – all five of them – so why did Scott have to take the rap? Why hadn’t Scott let him take the punishment? It had been his broken promise that had triggered it all in the first place.

The familiar roar from the direction of the office – muffled by walls and distance in a way Alan wasn’t used to when it was usually him on the receiving end of it – interrupted anything he might have tried to stay about it.

“-got your brother killed!” exploded into earshot, and despite it not being aimed at him, despite it being yelled from several rooms away, Alan froze in place.

He’d never realised the rest of the villa could hear Dad when he was on a rage. How was it soundproofed against the Thunderbird launches but not Dad?

The rest of the words were still muffled, clarity fading away back to an overarching roar, and he heard Virgil make a disbelieving noise under his breath.

None of them spoke, though. Nor did they move, instead remaining clustered together as they listened to the sound of Scott taking the fall for them. All of them.

Alan hated it.

It felt like an age before silence fell, Dad’s tirade finally exhausted. He exchanged glances with all of his brothers, the four of them debating if it was safe to separate and go their own separate ways now it was over, or if they should stay together and wait for the reappearance of the rest of their family.

The latter won, so it was as a cluster they turned to the stairs at the sound of footsteps. Only one set, and something unpleasant settled in the pit of his stomach when Dad’s feet came into view. He still looked unhappy, and when his sharp eyes landed on John, Alan found himself gripping the hem of his brother’s shirt.

But Dad didn’t say anything to John, nor did he speak to Virgil, or Gordon, as his eyes homed in on them in turn. Then the steel landed on Alan, and he tried not to gulp. He was officially a member of International Rescue now. He couldn’t cower in front of the commander – in front of Dad.

Somehow, impossibly, the steel seemed to soften, just a little.

“Your official training starts tomorrow,” he said. “I want you in Command and Control at oh-eight hundred hours sharp.”

Alan felt his eyes widen. His training? Dad was still going to start his training?

“Yes, sir!” The words exploded out of him, his back straightening. He was rewarded with something that, for a split second, looked like a flash of a smile, before Dad’s face was stern again.

“Your training will be with me,” he continued. “We’ll be starting with Thunderbird One.”

There was a ripple through his brothers, and Alan’s breath caught in his throat. Thunderbird One training… without Scott?

He remembered the first time Scott took him into the silo, the way his eyes had lit up with love at the sight of his ‘bird, and the hidden nerves as his brother had waited for his judgement on the ‘bird. Thunderbird One was Scott’s. Scott loved Thunderbird One, and he knew from snatched conversations with all his brothers that Scott had trained them all on his ‘bird himself.

Alan was adult enough to read between the lines. Not being able to officially train him was Scott’s punishment.

But there was nothing he could do to get Dad to change his mind. Protests swirled through his mind, but the words wouldn’t come, and Dad wasn’t waiting for a response anyway. Sentence given, Dad carried on walking, past them and into the kitchen where Alan could vaguely hear murmured conversation start up.

“Damn,” Gordon breathed. “Did Dad just-”

“Strip Scott of Thunderbird One’s training rights?” John finished for him. “I think he did.”

Virgil made another noise, almost keening, but wordless.

Alan just felt cold. This was his fault. This was all his fault. Scott would be absolutely devastated, and it was all his fault.

Scott still hadn’t appeared, and he felt the urge to find him. To apologise, even if all he could offer were words and he couldn’t change anything. Couldn’t persuade Dad to change his mind.

His other brothers slowly started drifting apart, no longer feeling the need for safety in numbers now Dad seemed satisfied with the fallout. None of them went far, but it was enough for him to take a breath and head for the stairs.

No-one stopped him.

Alan didn’t know where Scott would be, but he hadn’t come downstairs, so he had to be in the villa somewhere. He wouldn’t have stayed in the office, either – Dad wouldn’t have let him even if he’d wanted to after that chewing out – so that was one less place to look. His feet took him to the floor with their bedrooms, five open doors in a row.

Four open doors.

Alan blinked and looked again. Four doors were in various states of open, mostly ajar or half-open, but the door that was always open during the day was shut tight.

Scott’s door.

He gulped again. Scott’s door was always open to them; even at night when it was physically closed, it had never felt as shut as it did then. The temptation was there to leave and come back later, and Alan took a stumbling step back almost without realising what he was doing.

He should leave Scott alone. That was what the shut door meant, right? Scott didn’t want to see anyone – see him – so he’d shut them all out. Except… wasn’t it also a cry for help? They had an entire island to escape in if anyone truly wanted to be alone. At least for Alan, if he was in his room… he always knew his brothers would find him there. It was the beaches, the rocks, the jungle, where he went when he really wanted to be alone.

Maybe he was wrong, but this was all his fault. He had to fix it.

Taking in a deep breath, he reached out and pressed his palm flat against Scott’s door. It didn’t move, but he stepped closer anyway, resting his forehead against it as well.

“Scott?” he called quietly. There was no response but it felt like the silence was suddenly heavy. Listening.

Waiting.

It wasn’t a go away, Alan, so he took another breath and found the door controls, switching it to open.

He braced himself as it unlatched, sliding open smoothly, but still there was no reaction from the other side of the door. The thought flickered through his mind that maybe the closed door was a decoy, maybe Scott wasn’t there, but then he could see into the room and the figure hunched over on the bed.

Any doubts that Scott hadn’t been told about the new training plan were dashed at the sight of him. Perched on the side of the bed, his head and shoulders were slumped forward, hands limply in his lap.

Alan had never seen his brother like that.

“Scott?” he tried again, tentatively edging into the room.

“Hey, Al.” His brother’s voice was quiet and unusually flat. Unless he was imagining things, there’d been a small rasping edge to it, too.

Then Scott turned his head to look at him and Alan knew he hadn’t imagined it.

Bright blue eyes glistened, but his attention was caught by the raw red rings around them, a sight Alan had seen in the mirror more times than he cared for, but had never thought he’d see on Scott. But it was the quirk of the lips into the most painfully fake attempt at a reassuring smile Alan had ever seen that stung the most.

Scott was hurting. Scott was hurting so much and listening to the same instincts that always had him teaching the kids that picked on Fermat a lesson, Alan’s hesitation melted away. Letting the door fall shut behind him, he launched himself forward, catching hold of Scott and gripping him in the tightest hug he could manage.

“I’m sorry!” he wailed, hiding his face in his brother’s neck. “I’m so, so, sorry. You trusted me and I broke it and now Dad’s mad with you and I’m so sorry, Scott.”

Scott had stiffened when he grabbed him, a natural instinct to an unexpected tackle-hug, but Alan felt him quickly fall lax again. Arms loosely wrapped around him, too loose to really qualify as a hug, but any reaction was better than none. They stayed like that for a moment before tightening.

“Thanks,” Scott muttered into his hair. “That wasn’t why Dad figured it out, but thanks for apologising.”

“It wasn’t?” Alan asked, “but-”

“You and Fermat in the silo because you guessed the access code or stole it from Brains would have satisfied Dad,” Scott said, and it sounded an awful lot like reassurance even though Alan wasn’t the one that had just been crying. Alan wasn’t the one being punished. “It’s the Hood and someone needing to stop him, and you were the only one that could.”

Scott’s hold tightened again.

“John had to convince Dad you could do it,” he muttered. Alan remembered seeing Dad look to one side, but he’d thought that had been Scott.

“Not you?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know why it hadn’t been.

Scott let out a wet chuckle. “I was still waking up,” he admitted. “Didn’t know what was going on by the comms until Dad ordered us all back to Three and said we had to get to London asap.” He paused, letting out a quiet huff that ruffled Alan’s hair. “Not the first flight I had in mind for you,” he said, an almost dry attempt at humour despite his voice still being wet. “But I knew you could do it.”

“Even if I messed up the landing struts?” Alan asked. The laughter he got was a little louder that time. More genuine.

“Nobody’s perfect,” his brother said. “Her landing struts are a small price to pay for everything ending up okay.” Alan felt him pause again. “But I don’t know if Brains will have them fixed in time for your training tomorrow.”

His voice hitched on the word training and Alan winced.

“I wish it was you,” he muttered. “Things make sense when you say them.”

To his surprise, Scott pulled back from the hug, far enough to meet his eyes. They were still red-rimmed and glistening, even if the grin on his face looked slightly less sad. Slightly more genuine.

“Just make sure to show Dad how good you are,” he said. “I’ll bribe John for the footage.”

Despite himself, Alan laughed. He didn’t think Scott would even need to bribe him; John had been as taken aback as the rest of them at Scott’s punishment.

“Okay,” he agreed. It still hurt that Scott wouldn’t be with him, especially not when it was all his training that Alan would be showing off, but if Scott could still at least watch…

Well, it was better than nothing.

Scott squeezed him tightly again for a moment before letting go entirely. Reluctantly, Alan got the hint and stepped back.

“Are you going to come out?” he asked, and tried not to be too crestfallen when Scott shook his head.

“I’m still not too old to be sent to my room to ‘think about what I’ve done’,” he quoted, rolling his eyes and smiling a watery smile. “I’ll be down for dinner.”

“Do you want me to stay?” Alan offered, knowing the loneliness of imposed isolation, even if it was only for a few hours.

Scott shook his head, but his smile was a little brighter. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “Go spend some time with John while he’s dirtside.”

That was a dismissal, and Alan sighed. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Scott made childish shoo, shoo gestures and shot him another watery grin. “Go on.”

Alan didn’t want to leave, but it was clear Scott wasn’t interested in company. His eyes were still glistening with unshed tears, and somewhat selfishly Alan didn’t want to see them fall.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, reluctantly obeying his brother’s request. “Don’t be late, okay?”

“I don’t plan on missing out on any of Ohana’s cooking,” Scott promised. “I’ll be there.”

Alan nodded, and with one last look at his brother – still sat slumped on the edge of his bed, but sending him an encouraging grin that clearly said Alan should leave – slipped back out into the hallway.

As he had promised, Scott reappeared in time for dinner, looking much better and clearly cleaned up.

And as Dad had promised, he wasn’t there at oh-eight hundred hours when Alan reported to Command and Control. The rest of his brothers were present, in various stages of lounging as they eyed him, but Scott’s absence was a gaping hole.

Dad didn’t even acknowledge it.

“Put that on,” he said, gesturing to a folded uniform on the desk. White with blue piping, it perfectly matched the one Scott was wearing in the portrait behind him. Thunderbird One’s colours.

He did as he was told, realising it was a little too big for him in the shoulders, but not quite long enough in the leg. The name patch said Alan, but he knew there was no way Dad had managed to get a uniform made for him that quickly. If he squinted, he could see the pale imprint underneath that spelled out Gordon. A hand-me-down training uniform, then.

Dad was wearing his own, also blue-trimmed with Jeff on the name patch, and next to him in his brother’s hand-me-downs, Alan felt like a child playing dress-up.

No. He wasn’t a child. He was a member of International Rescue, had at least some training on piloting three of the Thunderbirds thanks to Scott, and for Scott he had to hold his head up high. It was his eldest brother that had got him here, and even if Dad was furious about it, Alan owed him that much.

He straightened his back and met Dad’s gaze head-on. The look he got back was unreadable and he fought the instinct to look away.

“Let’s go,” the man said, not paying his three middle sons any attention as he breezed past them. Alan glanced at them as he followed, and got three supportive smiles in response. Gordon added an encouraging thumbs’ up.

It was the first time Dad didn’t order him to look away when he typed in the code, and Alan watched him punch in the same number sequence he’d seen Scott enter so many times. From the look Dad gave him, he no doubt knew.

Nothing was said until they were in the elevator, riding down towards Thunderbird One’s silo. Doing the journey without Scott felt wrong.

“You might – officially – know the codes now,” Dad said, “but for as long as you’re under training, you are still not permitted down here without a full member of International Rescue for company. Do you understand?”

It was a step up from the previous Dad-only rule. Alan knew he could badger any of his brothers into taking him down. They’d been willing to do it behind his back, after all. Dad probably knew that, too.

He nodded his agreement just as the elevator came to a stop. The by now familiar sight of Thunderbird One through her access door greeted them, and he watched as Dad entered the same, familiar, code. The door opened as smoothly as ever, and Alan followed Dad onto the gantry.

“First of all,” Dad said, turning and facing him. He was standing straight, towering above Alan, but Alan refused to show how intimidating that was. Being in here with Dad was nothing like being in here with Scott.

Scott always went straight for Thunderbird One, touching her hull lightly as though being separated from her for any length of time had been too long. Even as he was talking, he’d send occasional soft glances his ‘bird’s direction. His love for Thunderbird One was a tangible thing.

Dad was treating her like any other bit of machinery. The difference was jarring.

“I want to see what you know,” Dad continued. “Show me, and try not to launch accidentally this time.” There was a rebuke in there. Alan heard it clear as day, and despite his determination to prove himself an adult, he felt a wince cross his face at the reminder of his blunder.

He’d been too busy showing off to Fermat and panicked when something went wrong. One of the first things Scott had shown him was how to cancel the launch sequence – before Dad got wind that she was trying to launch. It shouldn’t have happened.

At Dad’s command, the access panel slid open and he muscled his way across to the co-pilot’s seat. Nothing like Scott, who moved like he knew her intimately. Alan supposed that was the difference between being in someone else’s ‘bird and being in your own. Maybe Dad was softer with Thunderbird Three.

As soon as Dad was settled, Alan sidled in. It was an action he’d done countless times, and he didn’t need to think about the correct hand and foot holds as he eased himself into the pilot seat and instinctively pulled on the harness.

Then he glanced across at Dad, whose expression was still unreadable.

“Whenever you’re ready,” his father said. Alan took a deep breath, settling the nerves that had suddenly sprung up. It was worse than an exam at school; at least he didn’t have the additional pressure of validating his brother during exams.

He could do this. Scott believed in him. Scott had taught him. He’d piloted her all the way to London to stop the Hood; he could run through the motions cold.

Another breath and his hands began to move, starting pre-flight checks and doing his best to ignore the prickle of Dad watching.

She told him her landing struts had a fault, and he faltered. He knew that, knew Brains had her slated for repair once the hangar was put back together and Thunderbird Three’s engine was replaced, and they weren’t actually going to be flying Thunderbird One, but… if he just ignored that, what would Dad think? Was he supposed to be acknowledging what they both knew, because it was a fault?

His fingers stilled, and Dad sighed. The sound sent a shudder down Alan’s spine.

“I’ve seen enough,” he said, and Alan wilted.

He must have hesitated too long, must have made a mistake in his judgement. Dad was disappointed; he’d let Scott down.

“Scott, report to Thunderbird One’s silo immediately.”

What? He wasn’t going to chew Scott out again, was he? He’d already made Scott cry last night; was Dad really going to be that harsh?

“Dad-” he started, not sure what to say but knowing he had to say something. Scott had taken more than enough of the rap for his unauthorised training already.

“Get back onto the gantry, Alan,” Dad interrupted.

“But- I-” No, he couldn’t just give up. Dad couldn’t make him stop like that, could he?

“That was an order, Alan. We’ll wait for your brother on the gantry.” Dad’s tone brooked no arguments, and Alan reluctantly obeyed.

Almost as soon as he was out, Dad was behind him, nudging him forwards with a hand on his shoulder so he could leave the cockpit, too. Alan hunched over, catching one arm with the opposite hand, and tried not to shuffle his feet as he waited for Scott to arrive.

It wasn’t a long wait. Barely a minute after being ordered out of the Thunderbird, the silo door opened to reveal Scott. His hair was mussed and he looked like he’d run from wherever he’d been as fast as he could, despite the no running in the house rules.

Blue eyes homed in on him, and he flinched. Scott, of course, noticed.

“What happened?” he asked. It would have been a demand if it wasn’t aimed at Dad.

A blur of white and blue landed in his face, and Alan felt his own eyes widen as Scott reflexively caught it.

“Put that on,” Dad ordered. Alan watched Scott shake it out, revealing it was his own uniform.

“Dad?” Scott asked, confusion dripping from the word. “I thought-”

“I know what you thought,” Dad interrupted. “Suit up.”

What was going on? Alan looked between the two of them, seeing his own confusion mirrored in Scott’s eyes while in Dad’s there was something that looked like… satisfaction? Dad was satisfied about something?

He’d banned Scott from training him, but now he was making Scott suit up, and it didn’t make sense. What was he thinking?

It didn’t take Scott long to pull the uniform over his clothes, zipping it up in a rush.

“Well?” Dad said, crossing his arms expectantly.

“You told me I wasn’t allowed to train Alan anymore,” Scott said slowly, although Alan didn’t miss that he was edging closer to his Thunderbird – and him.

Dad hummed. “I trust you’ve learnt your lesson about undermining my authority?”

Scott flinched. “Yes, sir.”

“And you won’t do that again?”

“No, sir.” He was standing next to Alan now, one glove pressing against the silver hull seemingly of its own accord.

“In that case,” Dad said, “I’m not about to compromise an operative by denying him the best training. Your brother here can already do the pre-flight checks faster than Gordon without losing any accuracy.” Wait, what? But he’d hesitated… “I’ll be supervising all training until further notice; I look forward to seeing how far he continues to go.”

“He’s going to give me a run for my money one day,” Scott said, and Alan whirled around to look at him. His brother smiled down at him. He looked proud. “Come on, Al, let’s get this training session underway.”

He slipped into the cockpit, a stark contrast to Dad’s firmness as he all but flowed into the co-pilot seat. This was familiar, and even though Dad was still there, still watching, Alan felt the tension leave his body as he followed.

Dimly, he was aware of Dad settling into the passenger seat behind Scott, but his attention was firmly fixed on his brother, who was running an eye over the controls and clearly working out how far he’d got before Dad had interrupted.

“Well, Al, I think we need to work on your landing sequence,” he said after a moment. Alan was pretty sure that was partially prompted by the pre-flight warning, although it had probably been running through Scott’s mind ever since he realised her landing gear was damaged in London. “Run me through what you did then, and we’ll see where you went wrong under the pressure.”

Confident that Thunderbird One was cold and the engines weren’t going to ignite unexpectedly, Alan reached for the first stage of a VTOL landing, only for Scott to catch his wrist.

“Not what you know is right,” he corrected gently. “I know you can do it from cold. Try to remember what you did on that flight.”

Most of the flight had been a blur of panic and a little bit of rage thrown in. Alan pulled his hand back and closed his eyes, trying to remember what he’d done.

He’d-

Oh.

Sheepishly, he moved his hand away from the control he should have gone to first, and skipped a step.

From the look on Scott’s face – and the fact he’d stopped him immediately – his big brother had already known exactly where he’d gone wrong. But he was still smiling.

“Looks like we need to drill that a few more times until you don’t have to think about it,” he said. “Okay, keep going. Let’s see if you made any other mistakes, then we’ll get to work.”

Alan returned his grin, finding himself completely undaunted by the prospect despite Dad sat behind them, watching like a hawk but saying nothing. Scott was just that good at teaching.

“F.A.B.”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #jeff tracy #easterTAG #submission

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