Tumgik
#okay it also didn’t help that the moment i read her dog had passed
fairycheol · 8 months
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Always An Angel
luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader
cw:fluff, kissing, mentions of injury, teeny tiny angst. death/murder
It had been exactly three days since Luke Castellan had seen you, his girlfriend of three years, around camp.
The first day of your “disappearance” he simply chopped it down to you being busy taking care of the camp infirmary.
By the time day two rolled around, he began to worry, and unfortunately for him the Apollo campers were no help. Delivering cryptic responses every-time Luke asked where you were, practically avoiding his question.
He began to panic, did you leave camp with no goodbye?, were you secretly seeing someone else behind his back? His mind was running a hundred miles an hour.
On day three he took it upon himself to set out looking you. Leaving his campers with Clarisse he marched through every part of camp before arriving at the infirmary.
He hadn’t tried approaching the building earlier because Mr.D had placed a “do not enter” sign on the front.
Oh my gods, had Mr.D killed her?!?
Shaking the crazy thought from his head he finally opened the door to take a peak inside expecting to find a dead body on the ground but to his surprise it was something entirely different.
Sleeping on one of the beds was a 7 year old boy and hunched over asleep in a nearby chair was you, bow and arrow held limply in your hands.
Luke crept forward into the room when he stepped onto an extra creaky floorboard. The sound had succeeded in waking you up with a fright.
As a daughter of Apollo, you were gentle but you were also a fighter. Which would explain why Luke’s shirt was now pinned to the door with an arrow.
Now fully conscious you came to the realization that you’d just shot an arrow… at your boyfriend
“Luke!” you hissed at him
“What the hell is wrong with you?! I could’ve seriously hurt you!” Walking across the room you ripped the arrow off the door and placed it back in your quill.
“I-I was just coming to check on you, I haven’t seen you in three days.” Luke gave you the saddest puppy dog eyes imaginable. Gods was it impossible to get mad at him.
“Aw, you were worried about me?” Luke passed on a smile as you grabbed his face in between your hands,
“Wait no, i’m still mad at you for sneaking up on me!” Taking a step back you let out an angry huff, but the facade had melted almost instantly when Luke pulled you in by the waist and gave you one very very long kiss.
“I’m sorry for scaring you I just need to make sure you were okay. Your campers were pulling every excuse out of the book to get away from me.” Luke explained twisting an eyebrow up in mock suspicion. With a sigh you began to run your hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart race faster with every movement you made.
“I was gonna tell you were I was but he” you pointed at the young boy still fast asleep, “would wake up in tears every-time I tried leaving his side. He didn’t wake up this time cause I asked a daughter of Hypnos to help me get him to sleep comfortably.”
That’s right. The young boy laying in the infirmary had arrived three days ago. He was chased up the hill of camp half blood by a vicious three headed hell hound. When he got to camp he was shaken up and bleeding heavily. The only person able to calm him down was you.
“That doesn’t really explain you being cooped up in here with him.” Luke huffed putting his hands on his waist.
“Yeah well, after I got his stitches done and over with he begged me to stay in here. Said he could still feel the monsters chasing him.” You turn to look at him with such a saddened gaze that had him remembering of your arrival at camp and the night terrors you’d faced yourself.
“You know better than anyone Luke… I couldn’t leave him feeling like he was alone.” He knew exactly what you meant, and he couldn’t even be upset about it.
A pair of warm hands reached up to gently get a hold of your face, turning you to face him. He gave a smile that read a thousand praises.
Luke takes your moment of silence to give you one more kiss, the gesture sets off a million butterflies in your stomach.
“How did I get so lucky with someone like you” Luke brushes a strand of hair from your face, taking a moment to admire you.
His Angel in disguise.
the ending was lowkey rushed cause i didn’t know what to write 😭
hope y’all enjoyed it tho 🫶🏻
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pianokantzart · 6 months
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The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 6)
What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? (This part of the story is in one shot format. Most other parts are written in bullet points.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 ________
A short summary of the things Luigi had done in the past twenty four hours that he had never expected to do in his entire life:
Fall into an interdimensional wormhole. Fight a warrior princess in a crowded arena. Become a royally acclaimed ghost hunter. Enlist in an army assembled to ambush the territory ruled by The King of Ghosts in order to rescue hostages and bring balance to the afterlife. Adopt a dog.
... Though it was more accurate to say the dog adopted him. Normally Luigi had trouble with animals– he could never read their body language, and his clumsiness made for bad first impressions. The few animals he got along with in the past were old and quiet, wanting nothing more than a warm lap on which to lay their head. Polterpup was different; playful and energetic, mischievous yet patient. Luigi couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind the attachment– if he himself resembled an old master or friend from the dog’s past life before it became a ghost. It still wore a collar, though the little golden loop on the front had no tag. The collar was bright red, almost a perfect match to Mario’s favorite color. "Heh, you’re just as good at getting into trouble as Mario, too,” Luigi added with a somber smile, kneeling down to oblige the ghost dog’s less-than-subtle plea for belly rubs until it disappeared again, as was its habit. Polterpup tended to suddenly poof in and out of thin air with little warning, and though it seemed to be at random at first, Luigi began to realize the dog mostly came to him when he was feeling alone, which was more often than not as of late. Every new experience, every strange encounter, every unexpected victory made Luigi wish more and more that his brother was around to take part. Hardly a second passed without him wondering what he was doing at that moment, and if he was okay.
Unfortunately, his occupied mind made him a less-than-helpful assistant to E. Gadd. The professor had warned earlier that he had always preferred working alone. The result was a very low tolerance level for “tomfoolery,” as he described it, and it wasn’t long before Luigi’s shaky attempts to help attach upgrades to The Poltergust caused the scientist to lose his patience. One shoddy wire-soldering job later, Luigi found himself being forcibly pushed toward the exit by the surprisingly strong old man. “Go. Shoo. Distract yourself with something else.”
“Like what?” Luigi asked, digging his heels. “What do I do? Where do I go?”
“How about you see the princess?”
“Princess Daisy?”
Luigi lingered in the doorway. The professor adjusted his glasses, and pointed down one of the castle hallways. “Yep! She’s in the greenhouse. I’m sure she could use the company. You two seem to get along well enough.”
“We do?” Luigi placed his hand against his cheek, thinking over their last interactions. They had exchanged blows, but worked together in the end to defeat Boolossus. She had held his hand up as the victor, but she had also toyed with him in a way that made it clear that she knew how weak he truly was. He liked her, that much he knew, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything more to do with him, and furthermore she had a power and confidence to her that intimidated him beyond her status as the daughter of four kings. “I don’t know. I mean, we did make a pretty good team, but she’s royalty! I don’t know anything about how to approach royalty. Do I bow? Or–”
“You’ll be fine,” The Professor assured, only half paying attention as he returned to his work, burying himself back into the open hatch of a large machine.
In the end, Luigi did as he was told. The greenhouse was easy enough to find. As large as the Birabuto Palace was, its corridors were open and easy to navigate, and the guards were surprisingly helpful in giving directions despite their shaky first-encounters.
Finding the large doors to the greenhouse, marked by limestone imitations of crawling vines carved into the archway, Luigi gathered his determination and pushed them open. The first thing that struck him was a wall of glacial cold– a shocking surprise, and the opposite of what he expected from a greenhouse, but this discomfort was immediately undercut by the beauty of the surrounding foliage. The flowers, sparkling with a brilliant, incandescent blue, sprouted from planter boxes and large pots all around in blooms and buds. He thought for a moment that surely they were beautifully-crafted plastic or silicon, but pinching a large leaf between the fingers of his gloves he found they felt as real as any common dandelion. The second thing that struck him was the night sky, clearly visible through the glass walls and ceiling. He had never in his life seen so many stars, and for all his love of science and space he could not recognize a single constellation, which served as an unsettling, but ultimately breathtaking reminder of how far from home truly he was.
“Oh! Hey!”
Luigi jumped and let out a surprised squeak when Daisy emerged from behind a stack of pots to greet him. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, and in her right arm she held a large sack of powdery-white fertilizer that she was distributing between the plants. She laughed at his reaction, but it carried no hint of condescension, just friendly amusement. “I was hoping I’d see you again before we invaded Evershade Valley!” she called, waving him over. “Luigi, was it?”
Luigi approached while holding his hat to his chest, shuddering a bit as the chill bit at the edges of his ears. “Yes, Your Highness.” Daisy once more laughed her friendly, good-natured laugh. “None of that. Just Daisy. No ‘Miss’ or ‘Ma’am’ either. If you’ve gotta be formal, call me Princess Daisy.” Luigi, feeling a little more at ease, put his hat back on his head. “Yes, Princess Daisy.” She gave a nod of approval, then went back to work fertilizing the long rows of plants. “So,” she asked, “What can I help you with, big guy?” “I, er…” Luigi suddenly realized he had failed to come up with a proper reason before arriving here. He couldn’t very well say the professor kicked him out of the lab for being inept, but before he could think of an excuse his attention was re-seized by the plants. Curiosity overcame him to the point that he forgot his worries, and he once more brushed his hand against the leaf of the nearest flower. “Are these where your ice powers came from? In The Battle Stadium?” “Of course! I’m pretty good with a powerup, huh?” Daisy said proudly, “Normally I favor the elephant fruit, but today I decided to switch things up.” “Elephant fruit? There’s other magical plants?” The princess stiffened. Luigi was worried for a moment that he had accidentally said something offensive, but she retained her genuine smile as she set the sack of fertilizer down and placed her hands on her hips. “Wow, you’re really not from around here, are you.” Before Luigi could answer, she walked up and wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Suppose I should’ve known. Humans aren’t native to this world. The professor is one of, like, two other humans I know. Do you know E. Gadd? Is he your uncle or something?” “I– uh, no. We just met yesterday.” “Let me guess: you're lost." "Well... yes..." "And he said he'd only get you home if you help him.” “What!?” “He’s the kind of guy to pull a stunt like that if he thinks it’s for the greater good.” Daisy explained, holding Luigi a bit closer in a show of sympathy. “You don’t have to do this, you know, you could go home anytime you like. I’ll vouch for you!” Despite the friendly intention behind these words, Luigi felt a lump form in his throat. He slipped out from under The Princess’ side-hug, and stared up at her with a troubled look. “Do you… want me to leave?” Daisy bristled. Her cheeks reddened as she shook her head and waved her hands in dismay. “No! No no no of course not! I think you’re great! It’s just…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck.
Luigi, surprised by this rare show of nervousness, patiently waited with bated breath for her to gather her thoughts, and after a few seconds she continued, quieter than before. “It’s just that I keep thinking about what you said in the arena. You seemed like a guy who had a lot to lose. You weren’t in it for glory or the fun of the fight, you were just scared and… I don’t know… I felt bad for you. Still do.” At this, Luigi gained a slight smile, shyly burying his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Heh, don’t worry. I gotta learn how to not be scared all the time, y'know?” It didn’t take long before he realized what he said– whose words he was echoing. The gravity of the situation quickly crashed back down on him, robbing him of that small moment of comfort. It was evident by the look on Daisy’s face that she had seen the change in his expression, so Luigi went ahead and explained his predicament before she could ask: “It’s my brother, Mario. We both fell through a warp pipe. I ended up in your kingdom but he ended up in Evershade Valley.”
Daisy cocked her head, the gears turning behind her eyes as everything she had witnessed about the plumber's manner up until now came together in her mind. “Oh. I see.”
“It was my fault. I fell into the warp pipe, and he jumped in after me, and– I… I can’t just leave him.” Luigi heard his own voice crack and felt tears beginning to form in his eyes. Despite this he kept going, the pent up emotions of the past twenty four hours running rampant, unable to be reigned in. “It’s not that I don’t trust anyone else to save him, but I gotta make sure he’s okay! We’ve never been apart this long… and I-... I miss him.” Tears began streaming freely, the cold air burning them into long lines down Luigi’s cheeks. He turned away, struggling to wipe his eyes with the back of his glove. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be.”
Luigi saw a glimmer of white fabric in the corner of his vision. Turning, he saw the princess holding a flower-embroidered handkerchief out to him. He accepted, and dried his eyes. He tried to hand it back, but she was already returning to the flowers, plucking up a set of pruning shears as she went. “I’ve never known a good fighter that didn’t have big emotions brewing under the surface,” she assured. “But don’t you worry, after the way we saved my dads, saving you brother should be no sweat!...” Luigi, hearing a light snip of closing shears, saw Princess Daisy remove one of the ice flowers at its base between where the leaves connected to the soil. Despite being cut off from its roots the plant remained as lively as ever. It almost looked to be dancing happily in her hands as she delivered it back to Luigi.
“...and when you do save him, give him this.” She said, holding out the offering. “If Mario’s anything like you, he’s not going to want to be defenseless, and ice magic is the one of the few things that can combat boos besides your Poltergust.” Luigi smiled. He reached out and took the flower into his hands. He was surprised to find it wasn’t particularly chilly to the touch– clearly the coldness of the room was for the sake of cultivating the plants, not the effect of the flowers themselves. “You seem to really know a lot.” He mused aloud, pressing the gift to his chest. “But… you said humans aren’t native to this world. Where did you come from, then?” He stopped suddenly, realizing the personal nature of what he asked. He searched Daisy’s face for some sign of disapproval, but was relieved to see her smiling just as brightly as before. “Ha! I wish I had an answer to your question!” She laughed, “Dragonzamasu says I hatched from an orange egg that appeared suddenly in a field of flowers. Biokinton says he found me curled up in a bassinet hitched to a shooting star. Hiyoihoi says he found me locked in a gemstone at the center of the oldest mountain in Sarasaland. But I’m more inclined to buy Totomesu’s story.”
“What’s Totomesu’s story?” Daisy’s smile wavered. Luigi wondered once again if he misstepped, but this time easily brushed the thought aside, trusting by now that the princess would let him know if he had done something wrong. She turned away, staring up at the stars through the glass wall of the greenhouse, and Luigi placed himself at the her side, watching the stars in tandem until Daisy finally broke the silence and answered his question: “He found me at the mouth of a warp pipe, barely old enough to crawl and completely terrified. Sometimes I think I still remember that day… as much as I prefer to believe that I hatched from an egg.”
There was such an odd sadness to her voice that Luigi felt an impulse to reach out and reassuringly take her hand, though he had enough common sense to refrain from such an intimate gesture. All the same, he wanted to say something comforting. “I don’t mind that you didn’t hatch from an egg.” He heard himself blurt out.
Daisy shot him a confused look, and Luigi nervously scrambled to explain himself. “What I mean is… hey, you were a baby, y’know? Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re already so cool, you can’t be cool every moment of your life, and most babies aren’t cool! And… uh…” Daisy started to laugh. Luigi turned red, but felt a little better now that she was smiling again, even more so when he felt the princess affectionately nudging his shoulder. “Haha! I get it big guy, I get what you're saying!”
Luigi laughed too, in spite of himself.
“Speaking of ‘cool,’” Daisy went on, “I'm freezing!” She rubbed at her arms in a display of discomfort. Luigi, too, was suddenly reminded of just how cold he was. By now the low temperature had seeped all the way through his clothes and skin, triggering a powerful shiver that ran through his core, which was soon soothed as the princess wrapped an arm around him, and pressed him close. “Tell me, Luigi, do you have hot chocolate in your world?”
“I love hot chocolate!”
“Perfect!” With her arm still tightly wrapped around the plumber, Daisy eagerly led him to the egress of the greenhouse. “Let’s get us some good old-fashioned creature comforts before we fight some ghosts!”
"Heh. Yeah. Let's-a-go!" Luigi said, forcing enthusiasm, thankful that he had the cold as an excuse for his uncontrollable shivering.
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What to do when you are a leafling: soft music and care
(I wanted to do a chapter exploring Sherry. Warning for implied death and a general sense of melancholy.)
Sherry floated over to Yonny and tapped his hand, he weakly opened his eyes and smiled.
“I-I-I guess it also affects me…”
Sherry nodded and turned to Dingo and Bernard.
“Bernard, help him up, I can bring him to our hideaway but promise to be down there straight away.” Sherry said she grabbed Yonny and they both teleported in a wisp of green light.
“Gah, this is so confusing.” Dingo said. He grabbed Bernard’s hand and they walked to the cave entrance.
“I agree. I sure hope he’s okay.” Bernard said, he tugged his stem and the ground shook.
A group of armored cannon larvae emerged from the ground.
Dingo, Bernard and Jack steadied their ground. This was going to take a while, especially with their sleep-deprived minds.
Down in the hideaway, Yonny was resting in a sleeping bag while Sherry tended to him, she placed an ice pack on his forehead and a thermometer in his mouth, she now wore a folded face mask over her stem.
“…”
“It’s going to be okay, as long as you’re down here nothing bad will happen. Don’t worry, your friends are coming.” Sherry said while lightly dabbing some antiseptic on Yonny’s stem.
“Th-thank you.” Yonny weakly said. He coughed and felt out the hole in his suit. He plucked the thermometer out and looked at the temperature.
“21 degrees Celsius or 70 degrees Fahrenheit core body temperature…oh no.”
“Is that bad? Did I make the ice pack too cold or something?” Sherry fretted while lifting the ice pack off.
“No no, the average core body temperature is around 36 degrees Celsius or 98.6 degrees fahrenheit, as you get lower, your bodily functions start to fail and eventually die.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“Medical school and an internship at a mortician’s”
“What’s a school? What’s a mortician?” Sherry asked, she tilted her head in an inquisitive manner.
“I will answer that later, my dear assistant. Firstly I need to go outside-“
“No! You need to rest! The sun is dangerous and you’ve been up all night!”
“So I have” Yonny yawned out, he streached and stared at his hands for a moment before laying to sleep.
Sherry let out a ghostly sigh and floated around the doctor diligently much like a guard dog would, no harm would come to Yonny as long as she was around!
An hour passed and Sherry was digging through his emergency kit, looking at all the fun trinkets that seemed to reside in there, pure white camouflaging wrap, a sticky on one side and not sticky on another strip, funny little clicky things and a small box. Sherry tilted her head and gently opened it.
The most beautiful sound came from the box, it sounded sweet yet sad. Sherry floated a little closer, noticing words engraved inside the box.
“Good luck in the rescue corps! From…i can’t read that” Sherry said, she closed the box and gently put it back into the emergency kit, same with all the other fun trinkets that Yonny kept in it.
“One day I’ll learn enough of his writing to understand, but today is a day of rest.” Sherry said. She sat on the kit and closed her eyes.
There she was, facing the horrific mixture of a beady long legs and machine, she didn’t need to worry! Papa will keep everyone safe! She, alongside the others were tossed on the monstrosity’s orb, it let out a metallic scream and shook them off, the monster’s stick pivoted and moved, whistling echoed in her ears and then…
Bang
Sherry opened her eyes to a loud bang, she froze up and curled into a ball, if she could cry like she once could, she would.
Dingo was carrying Bernard and Jack on his back, he was out of breath and had clear bags under his eyes despite the leaves, he huffed and puffed and laid Bernard down.
“Is he okay?” Sherry asked, the nightmare disappearing from her mind.
“Well it’s a pretty long story, it all started when some armored cannon larve attacked us.”
(Don’t worry, Dingos side is a whole other chapter)
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thatninjacat27 · 2 years
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Suit & Tie
Summary: Sonic tries to help Tails dress up nice.
Notes: So I wrote this for Wholesome Wednesday and i don’t think I met all of the requirements. Because it’s mostly wholesome with other stuff. But I’m posting this anyways. I’ll try again next time. Warnings: This does not go the way you expect, character death, light angst. If you don’t want to read those parts then don’t pass the dashed line.
(Above is the link and below is just the same stuff)
“Alright, Tails. I think I’m done.”, Sonic said as smoothest out the shoulder of the fox’s suit. He then step back to observe his work.
“Well? How is it? How do I look?” Tails asked excitedly. His two tails were wagging.
Sonic looked at his brother. This was probably not one of the blue hedgehog’s best assists.
Tails’s hair was covered in so much gel it looked like he was out in the rain. There was no way Sonic could save that hairstyle on his own. All of the pockets were somehow inside out, like someone had been digging in them to take something out and didn’t bother fix them correctly. His tie was tied up like a bow, and not a very good bow either. The cuffs were not cuffed up and one of the cuff links had gone missing. The pants hung loose and the belt was backwards. Overall, Tails looked like he had been mugged and partially homeless.
Sonic took a sharp intake of breath with gritted teeth. “Uhhh, you know what? Let me give Amy a call.”
“Oh come on. We’ve been at this for hours. At this rate I’m going to miss the event.”, Tails complained. 
”It’s going to be okay. I know Amy is a wiz at this stuff and if anything, I can just drop you off instead of you going on your own.”, Sonic said. 
”But Sonic…”, the fox whined.
”No buts. You’ll get to your event on time and everything will be perfect. Don’t you worry.”, the older sibling reassured. Sonic tried to ruffle Tails’s hair but the hair gel got in the way and made his gloves dirty.
”Eww.” Sonic wiped off the glove on a t-shirt close by. “Gonna put those in the dirty close bin later and calling Amy now.”
The blue hedgehog grabs his phone and dials up the number. “Hey Amy.”, Sonic greeted. “Do you think you could swing by my house right now?”
”Hi Sonic.”, Amy greeted. “Swing by your house like right now?”
”Yeah. It’s pretty important and I could use your expertise.”
”Ok. I’m not busy at the moment.”
”Cool. So I’m going to pick you up now?“
“Yeah, I’ll wait by the front door. Bye.”
“Bye.” And then Sonic hung up the phone. He went to the front door to grab his outside shoes. “Tails, I’m getting Amy.”, he said as he put on the shoes to leave.
“Okay.”, Tails responded. 
Sonic ran out. Tails went to the bathroom mirror to look at himself.
Dang he looked like a disaster. Tails could see why Sonic needed to bring someone else in to help. Not a minute later, he hears Amy and Sonic come inside the house. The fox starts to head towards them.
“So what’s the emergency?”, Tails hears Amy asks.
“I think you just need to see this yourself.”, Sonic told her. “Tails!”, the blue hedgehog calls out.
”I’m coming! Also, Hi Amy!”, Tails yelled. The fox walks towards them. He stopped a few feet away. Amy gave the fox an appraising look and turned back to Sonic. “I see why you asked me to come by.”
“Can you fix it?”, Sonic and Tails both said at the same time. They took stared at each other and then said, “Jinx.” “Double Jinx.” “Jinx you owe me a chili dog and a soda.”
The brothers get a little bit into a little verbal match until they hear Amy chuckle.
“Yeah, I can fix it, you two.”, she said still laughing some.The pink hedgehog grabs the nearest hairbrush and sits Tails on a chair. “Let’s do this.”
What took Sonic hours to do, only took her a solid 25 minutes just to fix all of the blue hedgehog’s mistakes and perfect the look. Tails’s tie was tied on correctly. His pockets weren’t out. By some miracle, Amy had managed to style the fox’s hair into something more fancy. The pants now fitted nicely. And somehow Amy found the other cuff link. Tails no longer looked like a somewhat homeless mugged Mobian anymore, but a dapper looking fox.
Amy backed up once she felt satisfied with her changes. “There we go. Such a handsome young man.”
Sonic have him a thumbs up. “You look good, bro.”
“Thank you Amy!”, Tails hugged her. 
“Yeah thanks for this Ames.”
“No problem boys.”
”Anyways, Tails , don’t you have somewhere important to be.”, Sonic asked.
”Yes. I have to go now so I won’t be late.”
”Where exactly are you going by the way?”, Amy asked. 
”Somewhere.”, Tails said vaguely. Both Amy and Sonic exchange a look. “Okay.”, they said slowly.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to just drop you off? It would be alot faster.”, Sonic asked as he started to pick stuff up.
”I’m fine, Sonic. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back home at around 8-9 pm.”
And then Tails stepped off confidently out the door.
—————
Tails steps inside his house feeling exhausted, drained, and soaking wet. He had return from attending the funeral service. It was a quiet thing and only close friends and family were allowed. It was also raining pretty badly.
The service went by too fast and everyone went their separate ways. Tails had stayed there much longer than allowed. The fox had felt the gravestone and no matter how many times he ran his hand across the name, Tails still couldn’t believe it. How could Sonic have died so soon?
After all, the funeral was his. Everything had been going so great. So why now? Tails honestly didn’t have an answer.
He went by the bathroom to clean himself up. In there, the fox saw his reflection in the mirror. Tails looked like a disaster. Just like that time when Sonic tried to help him look nice.
The fox laughed and held back a sob that threatened to come out. He needed to get out of this suit which was the same one he wore for the event that Sonic had almost made him late too.
He stripped out of his wet clothes and put on some dry ones on. Then he curled up in his bed.
The phone was ringing with the messages Amy and the rest of his friends were sending. Tails puts it on silence. He’ll answer them in the morning.
One thought the fox had before he drifted into the land of sleep was that he wore the that suit, the one that Sonic tried to help him put on, to funeral. His brother’s funeral. What an event indeed.
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sabaku-no-rozu · 2 years
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Mkay quick run down of the time line concept for Rozu, I have another one in my drafts but if it’s become a fic at this point and I wanna save that for the good stuff. This is still a long read so please bear with me and thanks in advance!
Age 6: dad Michio, well known Lightning user for Suna’s ANBU, KIA two days into three day mission. Mom Reina turns into a shut in and shuts herself in along with her daughter for the next four years
Part I:
Age 11-13: Rozu writes mom Reina a long goodbye letter and abandons Suna, running into Gaara along the way (encounter 1), makes it to Konoha four days later.
Rozu starts Ninja Academy but is noticeably weaker than her peers (due to being shut in for so long). Naruto befriends her believing he can help her get stronger. She is also befriended by Rock Lee who saw her to be stronger and wanted to help. The three of them formed an unofficial team and trained together on their off time.
Over time, Rozu’s strength and confidence increased. She picked up on Taijutsu quickly and was revealed to have an affinity for lightning jutsu. She has a hard time with thrown weapons and has poor aim. Tenten recommended Rozu use fist weapons instead since she has a penchant for Taijutsu, and gifted her a set of adamantine knuckles.
Rozu is able to pass the Genin exam and advance in rank.
Chūnin Exams:
(Gonna be honest I’m still working on this one)
Shortly after the sand siblings get settled for their stay in Konoha, Rozu runs into Gaara in the middle of the night (encounter 2), both of them out on walks for different reasons. Once again, Rozu bumps into Gaara while he has his guard down. The two of them briefly recognize each other and flash back to their first encounter. This time they share an eye to eye gaze. Gaara, normally disregarding the feelings of others, detects a familiar pain from her in that brief moment. Rozu apologizes for the intrusion then continues on her walk. Shukaku eggs Gaara on to harm Rozu, but Gaara brushes him off, stating it was a waste of energy to do so. Gaara thinks about how his sand didn’t react again to this person, remembering the rainy night from a few years ago, and goes back to his team.
During the second part of the exams in the Forest of Death, Rozu is able to pass quickly with her team and is the third team to make it to the end. She meets Gaara again and tries to make conversation with him and his siblings as they’re leaving, but is promptly advised by Temari to leave them be.
In the preliminary rounds, Rozu is horrified watching Rock Lee lose his match with Gaara. This is when she realizes how powerful Gaara is and becomes insecure of her own power, unsure if she will pass the exams if she’s matched with him.
Thankfully she’s matched with a different genin and quickly defeats them, spurned on by Lee’s efforts and the desire not to let herself look weak.
Later, she goes to visit Lee in the hospital and runs into Gaara again (encounter 3) on the way there. The two of them stop to observe one another. Rozu’s expression is different from the last few encounters where she was pensive and nervous, this time she had a look of dogged determination. She tells Gaara that she remembers him from Suna on the night that she left, and that she didn’t realize he was so strong. Gaara says nothing. Rozu continues on her way and tells Gaara that she came to Konoha to start over, and nothing was going to stop her, not even someone strong like him.
Gaara lets Rozu go, a decision made from surprisingly not hearing any reaction from Shukaku.
Konoha Crush:
Rozu is away from the Arena at this time to prepare for her fight with her opponent when she hears the destruction. She heads toward the arena and finds it blocked off by the four violet flames formation jutsu. She heads off to find her friends instead to make sure they're okay.
She does not have much, if any, involvement of the iconic fight between Naruto and Gaara, but she does reach the edge of the village and witnesses the appearance of Shukaku and Gamabunta from afar.
After the partial destruction of the village and learning that the invaders were Suna nin, Rozu isolates herself in her apartment, believing herself guilty for being from Suna and part of the invasion by extension. Naruto, after he recovered from battle, tracks her down. He learns the truth about her past and how she ran away from Suna to start a new life. Naruto manages to pull her out of her depression by reminding her that she is not a product of her circumstances, but of her choices, and convinces her to rejoin the group.
Rozu steels herself with a new resolve and joins the others in her class to Sarutobi's funeral a few days later.
Sasuke Recovery Mission, Sunagakure Support Mission, and Interlude:
Rozu is not part of the recovery mission arc. She instead is using this time to hone her skills, wanting to become strong enough to protect her friends and loved ones.
Her training pays off and she passes the second part of the Chunin exams in the Demon Desert, advancing her to the rank of Chunin.
During the two year interlude, after she's advanced in rank, Tsunade summoned Rozu to the Hokage estate to talk with Rozu about her past and her plans for the future. Rozu is extremely nervous talking about this, as she hasn't brought it up since Naruto talked to her shortly after the destruction of Konoha. To Rozu's surprise, Tsunade had done some research on Rozu's history and already knew about where she had come from, and her father Michio's accomplishments in Ame and Suna.
Tsunade proposed that Rozu travel to Amegakure, Michio's original home and training ground, to learn more about her own power and train in an environment that would accelerate her growth. She also stated that she had no qualms against Rozu for leaving Suna, and had given her full permission to travel between the two allied villages without issue.
Rozu was extremely excited at this prospect and took the opportunity to travel, saying goodbye to her friends and heading to Amegakure.
Part II
Age: 14-17
Kazekage Rescue Mission:
Rozu is still situated in Amegakure by this point, having researched more about Michio and learning about her Kekkei Genkai, "Raijin's Fury/Avatar of Raijin", a powerful jutsu that allows her to become one with the power of lightning. She learns that this is why she has much more stamina and chakra availability during thunderstorms and rain, and explains why Michio was sent on a three day mission during a rare storm in Suna.
During this time, Rozu's become much more proficient at using lightning release and lightning style jutsu, and is on par with Rock Lee on her taijutsu. She is much more confident and outgoing, now able to make friends easily and make space for herself in new places. She plays with the idea of returning to Suna to face her mother, whom she hasn't spoken with since she wrote her goodbye letter. She decides to pack a bag and make for Suna, anxious to re-visit her old home.
About half way into her trip, Rozu is intercepted by Team Gai, where she is caught up on the current events. Amazed and shocked, Rozu offers to help, but is advised by Neji that she should continue to Suna as soon as possible to assist there in case of another Akatsuki attack. Rozu agrees and offers a quick goodbye before redoubling her efforts to get there.
Rozu is intercepted again at the gates of Suna which are heavily guarded and it almost refused entry until she pulls out an old Suna nin headband--a worn out forehead protector that belonged to Michio. The guard jounin realized what that meant, and Rozu was quickly escorted to the Kazekage estate where she discovered that Michio's name carried more weight than she anticipated.
With no time to lose, Rozu is met with Suna officials to explain her situation, and in turn is given a run down of the current situation with Gaara--the Kazekage--having been taken by the Akatsuki. Rozu is instructed to stay within Suna and assist defending the village.
The next time Rozu and Gaara meet, it is after she learns of his death and revival thanks to Lady Chiyo. Rozu had been instructed to escort Gaara and Team 7 to the estate's medical wing for treatment and recovery. When Gaara laid eyes on Rozu (encounter 4), he was surprised to see her again after all this time and in such a place, once again meeting her when he was vulnerable. He noted that she seemed much stronger than the last time they met and remembered the determine look he had in her eyes.
Over the next few days while they recovered, Rozu, Team 7, and Gaara took time to catch up. Rozu decides to stay in Suna and vows to face her obstacles head on instead of running away.
Five Kage Summit:
Between the time of the akatsuki attack and the five kage summit, Rozu was assigned to Suna's jounin forces, Gaara requesting specifically to keep her close by as her newfound power could be beneficial to their team. The council decided to initiate Rozu as a personal guard to Gaara, reviving a similar team dynamic that Michio had with Rasa in the past, with Rozu's more laid back attitude contrasting Gaara's serious one.
At this point, Rozu still has not made contact with her mother, despite having been back in Suna for several months.
During the five kage summit, she assisted defending the sand siblings against Sasuke's attack, demonstrating her thunderous strength and lightning fast movement speed in battle.
She joins the siblings to the land of Iron where Gaara explains the sasuke situation to naruto.
Fourth Shinobi War Countdown:
Rozu joins Gaara to Kumogakure, where she meets Killer Bee, who she is surprised that he is excited to meet her. At this point, Rozu's power and her status as a close guard to the Kazekage are becoming well known, as are rumors of her being the legacy to "The Fury of the Storm", a name her father Michio had earned in his time.
Fourth Shinobi War Confrontation:
Rozu stands by Gaara's side in full Suna combat gear and is moved by his speech. She comments afterward how much he's changed, and he replies that she has also grown.
She originally is part of the Fourth Division with Gaara up until he learns Rasa is revived. Gaara orders Rozu to split off into another group to assist them, to Rozu's protests, but ensures her that he will take care of it. Rozu splits off as ordered, but comes face to face with a horrifying visage--her father Michio had been revived under forbidden jutsu, and she would have to face him in battle.
During her fight with Michio, he tells her how proud he is of how powerful she's become, and she learns the truth about his death. (still working on what that is) Michio, in an effort to resist the jutsu, performs a series of hand signs that Rozu has never seen before, allowing him to activate his KKG, "Avatar of Raijin". Rozu understands and does the same, the two of them enshrouded in lightning, Rozu now coursing with new power that she's never felt before.
Rozu defeats Michio in battle, and Michio thanks her for laying him to rest and keeping his memory alive. Just before he is released from the jutsu, he leaves parting words with Rozu for her to give to Reina that he knows will put her at ease and ease the tension between Reina and Rozu. Rozu cries in relief and sadness, finally feeling like she can be at peace with herself. Shortly, she rejoins the other shinobi and continues fighting with them.
Fourth Shinobi War, Climax:
Gaara and Rozu are reunited and fight side by side against reanimated Madara Uchiha. After Madara unleashes his meteorite and takes out most of the Fourth Division, Rozu unleashes Avatar of Raijin, empowered by the looming thunderstorm, and attempts to take on Madara herself. She is able to last in the fight surprisingly long before being defeated. She is exhausted when her KKG runs out, and passes out. Gaara uses his sand to whisk her out of harms way.
Ten Tails appears:
Rozu is healed by Tsunade and she is brought along with the five Kage to the site of the allied shinobi forces, where she fights alongside the shinobi on the ground while the five kage fight the main battle.
Kaguya Otsutsuki strikes:
Rozu is trapped in the infinite tsukuyomi. Rozu dreams about herself graduating to jounin rank with her mother and father watching on, telling her how proud they are of her as she is commenced and given her jounin rank and headband by Gaara himself, who tells her he is also proud of how far she's come as a shinobi.
When she is freed and the shinobi war is ended, she travels with Gaara to Kakashi's inauguration in Konoha.
Blank Period, age 18-22:
Rozu makes amends with her mother Reina shortly after the war, telling her the words Michio told her in their parting battle, which makes Reina break down and cry tears of relief knowing that Michio, even in death, still loved them both. She tells Rozu how proud she is of her and what a mistake it was to try and keep her away from the world. The two begin to slowly mend their relationship.
Rozu and Gaara have grown closer. At this point, Rozu and Gaara are developing feelings for each other but they don't realize it, although everyone around them seems to be noticing something they don't.
Rozu, having grown into an affectionate and confident young woman, thinks nothing of the physical affection she shows her friends and family, not realizing what certain gestures may mean such as bumping shoulders or touching hands. Gaara is aware that he feels something different about Rozu but he cannot pinpoint what exactly it is.
Shortly after the events of Gaara Hiden (arranged marriage arc), when Shijima joins Suna's ranks, she can tell that Rozu feels a type of way about Gaara, and confronts her about it. Rozu states that she just cares about her dear friend, and is glad that he didn't wind up married to someone he didn't truly love. Shijima takes this as confirmation of Rozu's feelings, but leaves it up to her to bring it up.
Gaara recounts how he thought of Rozu during that time and noticed how differently she would act when Hakuto was brought up in conversation, but he chalked it up to Rozu being suspicious of Hakuto's intentions naturally, since she was his personal guard, and didn't think much of it. It took Kankuro calling him an idiot when he accepted the proposal initially, and Temari explaining to him after the dust had settled for him to realize that the feeling in his chest was love for his dear friend, and that she probably felt the same way.
At some point during the blank period, the two realize that they have a deep connection and enter a romantic relationship.
New Era: Boruto:
Age, late twenties/early thirtes (or whatever the current canon age range is I like to think early thirties)
Rozu and Gaara are married and have one biological daughter, Nozomi, who was born a few years before Shinki was adopted, leaving them a three year age gap, making Gaara and Rozu into a family of four.
Aaaaaand thats what I have so far for a complete timeline!
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Over Coming the Flow of Evil Words
Verse of the day
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+Proverbs 15:28  The heart of the godly thinks carefully before speaking; the mouth of the wicked overflows with evil words.
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Topic: Over Coming the Flow of Evil Words
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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN AFFIRMATION **
I AM ALLOWING THE HOLY SPIRIT TO FILTER ME
I AM GIVING CONTROL TO GOD
I AM CONFIDENT WITH GOD
I AM WORTHY
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Thoughts
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We must be careful what we say, how we respond to others, not just Christians but honestly all of us should; it should be an unspoken rule about how we address others; what you think is okay to say might not be okay for others, but what we tend to forget we all are different we can spend a whole lifetime building a friendship with someone. It would take us less than 5 minutes to destroy what was built over words passed between two people.
Today's verse says the godly thinks carefully before speaking; how often do you think about what you say before you say it? How often do you consider someone else’s feelings? Some of us have this it must be said motility but everything that we THINK should be said shouldn’t; I have had TONS, TONS of times I wanted to say whatever my thoughts were thinking, and the Holy Spirit had to say no, don’t, but we all have had those moments, but we can’t follow through with those words.
It also says that the wicked let their words overflow; we shouldn’t be like the wicked and allow our words to flow; we must have self-control and not say whatever we feel; a lot of times, we allow our emotions to conduct what we say and do, and we shouldn’t. Yes, God gave us those emotions but not for them to lead us on what to do. We should always allow the Holy Spirit to filter out what needs to be said or done and let him say what is good or bad because we are of the flesh; if we go by our standards, we will always be wrong if we aren’t entirely devoted to God.
“James 3:6 And among all the parts of the body, the tongue is a flame of fire. It is a whole world of wickedness, corrupting your entire body. It can set your whole life on fire, for it is set on fire by hell itself.”
In the book of James, it tells us the tongue is a flame of fire! And that it can corrupt your whole body if we allow it, and it can set our life on fire, it can destroy anything if we don’t get our words and thoughts under control; it’s just like children we must teach them what to do and what to say what is proper what isn’t, but if we just let them do and say what they want they will be out of control!
When we ALLOW THE HOLY SPIRIT TO BE ACTIVE in our lives, he will start to show us what we can’t say and what we shouldn’t do; it’s easy just doing what we like; it’s easy just allowing ourselves go, but true discipleship starts when we ask the Holy Spirit to discipline us and help us have self-control. When I was in the world, I did whatever I felt and said whatever I wanted because I didn’t care about having self-control, but now that I walk in the light, I want to try my best always to please God, our lives should always be for the pleasure of God, not for our chaos.
Verse 7 People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, 8 but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison”
It tells us here we CANT TAME IT; we won’t be able to; only God can; only when we submit our members to God can we tame everything else in this world, animals, birds, dogs, and fish. I remember when I first got my dog, I took her to these obedient classes, and she went for eight weeks, and they taught her how to sit and roll over and wait; she learned it in 8 weeks, but it takes us as humans a lifetime sometime to learn the simplest things and one of those things is submission to God and his will, why does it take us that long because we have our agenda and we refuse to listen to God!
Verse 9-10 Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. 10 And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! “
This is a great example of how we allow our mouths to do one thing and the next minute do something different. This isn’t right to cuss with this same tongue and then honor God; we have to start asking God to cleanse our hands, to cleanse our life, and allow our bodies to be a living sacrifice for him !! We can’t say we are his when we can’t sacrifice even the most minor things for him!
** Today, if you’re struggling not to say what you feel, ask God to help you! Ask God to help you gain self-control and to be what he needs you to be; a lot of times, we spend our prayer time asking and asking when we need to spend this time giving our members to him so that he may clean! Ask God what you are doing with your mouth that he doesn’t like, and he will cleanse you!
©Seer~ Prophetess Lee
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Prayer
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Heavenly Father, we thank you for another day we have never seen; we thank you for being what we need; Father, we ask you to help us control our worlds, help us to control our tongues; only you can do this; we can’t, we don’t. Lord, help us through every conversation, every rant, calm us down so that we may walk in the light. Father God, we ask you right now to come and cleanse us, come in and change everything that’s not of you; Father, we want to be able to praise you with a clean tongue, not a tongue that was used to harm, not a tongue that was used to destroy someone’s confidence, lord help us to give you everything and every part of ourselves in Jesus Name Amen
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Reference
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+Ecclesiastes 5:2 Be not rash with your mouth, nor let your heart be hasty to utter a word before God, for God is in heaven, and you are on earth. Therefore let your words be few
+Proverbs 29:11 A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back
+Matthew 12:34 You brood of vipers! How can you speak good when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.
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Further Reading
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1 Kings 14:1-15:24
Acts 10:1-23
Psalm 133:1-21
Proverbs 17:7-8
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patrickztump · 2 years
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absolutely cried over the passing of a 12-year twitter mutual’s dog who passed away because i had more or less watched her entire life through the stories and photos shared by her owner. the first interaction i remember having with her owner was when she commented how she mistook a photo of scamp as her pup, back in 2009. they looked similar, yet very different. it seems the internet is a terrible place most days, but the relationships we build through mutual loves is something that will stay with us for the rest of eternity.
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intriga-hounds · 2 years
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I have a rather heavy question, and if you’re not comfortable answering that’s okay; I just figured you might have the most insight into this.
My whippet, Tigger, is 13 years old now (will be 14 in January). The last couple weeks, my mom and I have both noticed how much he’s really slowed down. He’s still in good health and still able to walk, eat, drink etc on his own. We figure he’s got a good few months left in him yet.
The thing is, he’s my ESA for PTSD, he’s been in our lives since I was in middle school, and more than that, he’s my soul dog. He’s my baby the way that Sivi is your familiar. And I know when he goes, its going to hit me like a train. I’m in tears thinking about it as I type this.
I guess my question is: how does one get through that kind of a pet loss? I’ve lost dogs before, a couple in pretty traumatic ways, but nothing like this, and I’d like to better prepare myself so I can help him go when the time comes.
I remembered your posts about Houston’s last day, and I thought you might have some insight or advice. And if not that’s ok too. I just wanted to ask.
Here’s a picture of Tigger.
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Thank you for reading, even if you can’t provide an answer. <3
there is no answer i can give that will lessen the pain of losing him when the day comes.
but the one good thing about houston’s death was that i know we gave him a good last day. i bought him toys and a mcdonald’s burger, and his pain wasn’t unmanageable that day. we all huddled around him and loved him in his final moments. i know it was the right time because the day before he could no longer stand. but i also got to say goodbye on my own terms and give him happiness all the way to the end.
i didn’t get to do that for knives, which is why i’m still not over her death five years later. i didn’t know what was wrong with her, and she was young, so i thought she would pull through. she suffered for weeks before i had her euthanized. i gave her one last cookie before she went, but i know that for her final days, she was unhappy and hurting and i could have done something about it. if i had known more, if i had known she was not going to get better, she wouldn’t have had a miserable final few weeks. that made her death so much worse.
the best you can do is recognize the end when it comes and, luck permitting, you can shower tigger with love all the way up to the last moment. it won’t fix the fact that he’s gone, but it’ll make his passing more bearable.
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isthedogawolfdog · 2 years
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Hello! Wolf/wolfdog enthusiast here! I was wondering if you had any books about wolves/wolfdogs that you really recomend? I saw your post about your, jsjs, bank account crying, so i figured you would be a good person to ask! Thank you!
Books on Wolves Masterpost
Hey hey! First off, I don’t have nearly as much books on wolfdogs as I do on wolves, that being said I am saving up for Living with Wolfdogs : An Everyday Guide to a Lifetime Companionship by Nicole Wilde and The Ultimate Guide to Wild Canines, Primitive Dogs, and Pariah Dogs: An Owner's Guide Book for Wolfdogs, Coydogs, and Other Hereditarily Wild Dog Breeds by Marjorie Daley, just to see if they have any helpful info (though I’m a bit skeptical on the whole owning of the animals, but I’m interested to see what it has in store). If anyone has any recommendations on wolfdog books I’d love to hear it!
So this was originally just going to be a quick recommendation post, but I’ve wanted an excuse to talk about the helpful books I’ve read for a while now. So in that case, welcome to a masterpost of wolf books!
1. The Rise of Wolf 8 & The Reign of Wolf 21 (and basically everything by Rick McIntyre)
These books involve real life observations of the life of two wolves (21m and 8m) and their packs. Rick McIntyre has an overwhelming amount of experience of working for the National Park Service in Yellowstone, and has included his findings of wolf behavior, never seen before interactions (he watched the first documented moment of an outside wolf joining a pack as a breeding male, which he includes in the book about wolf 21), etc. The books follow the lives of these amazing animals until they pass and are treasure troves of information that I highly recommend to any wolf lover!
Rick has also written The Redemption of Wolf 302 and a soon to be book on 06! Maybe we’ll get a book on Spitfire in the future?
2. War Against the Wolf: Americas Campaign to Exterminate the Wolf by Rick McIntyre
This book “Offers historical documents and modern articles documenting the evolution of attitudes toward wolves in America from 1630 to 1995, tracing the shift from policies of eradication to protection and re-establishment”. It really does give valuable insight to what wolves have faced over the centuries, but do be warned, wolves have dealt with incredibly gruesome deaths due to humans and if you’re sensitive to this topic you may want to skip this one.
3. A Society of Wolves by (you guessed it) Rick McIntyre
“This revised edition includes a new chapter with text and exclusive photos capturing the first year of the reintroduced Yellowstone National Park wolves. In addition, readers learn about the current wolf recolonization in Glacier National Park, the red wolf reintroduction programs in Great Smoky Mountains National Park and in the Southeast, and hoped-for wolf restoration in the Northeast and Southwest.” I personally found quite a bit of information I didn’t know while reading this book. What is it you say? Well I guess you’ll just have to read it!
4. American Wolf by Nate Blakeslee
Okay, get ready to sob when reading this book. Blakeslee tells the story of the famous wolf 06; her life, and death, is shared in this book in detail that will most likely leave you in tears. The author even got to meet with Steve Turnbull, the alias the man who killed 06 uses, and talked with him about 06 and his opinions on wolves themselves. It’s a heart wrenching yet beautiful book that I highly recommend.
5. Decade of the Wolf: Revised and Updated by Douglas W. Smith and Gary Ferguson
This book follows the lives (and deaths) of thirty one gray wolves imported from Canada into Yellowstone in 1995 and 1996. Smith, the leader of the project, and Ferguson tell of the trials and tribulations these animals faced, and if I’m not mistaken they even include the political side of it and how wolves got to the place they are now. 10/10 highly recommend!
6. Wolves on the Hunt by L. David Mech and Douglas W. Smith
The holy grail of hunting books, Smith and Mech have accumulated hundreds of accounts of wolves hunting their prey. This ranges from elk and moose to bighorn and deer, as well as miscellaneous prey like hares or rabbits and more! Although most of wolf hunts end in failure (around 90% to be exact!), this book shows how wolves will last hours to days waiting for a good opening to take down their prey. I absolutely adore this book and it is very, very helpful when studying wolf hunting behavior.
7. Have I mentioned Dave Mech?
L. David Mech is one of the top wolf biologists in the field and has an immense amount of experience working with wolves. Basically any book by him I’d recommend. However, there is one book that you should avoid due to the misinformation on alphas. This is one of his older books, and he himself has asked the publisher to stop printing it, but they won’t listen. I can’t remember the name as of now, but when I do I’ll edit this post to give you a heads up!
Alright, there is a LOT more I could recommend, but I don’t want to make this post too long (maybe there’ll be a part two when I get more books in?) and my internet is being weird and I really don’t want all this to get discarded by accident. So! I hope you all enjoyed this and if there’s any books you guys have read that you think are pretty cool, do tell!
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jerrienelock · 3 years
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Without You - Sadie Sink
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Takes place after the filming of Stranger Things Season 3
Exhausted.
Sadie is exhausted from all her sleepless nights. The sleep she longs for, no longer around, not since you left. She misses your presence, your hugs, your delicate words, your gentle touches. She just wants to be in your arms relishing in your radiant warmth, feeling your loving kisses to the back of her head.
She just wishes you had told her how you were feeling before that fateful day happened.
Splashes of water coat her face, trying to wake herself up, and cleanse her mind of you so she is prepared for her first interview since you left. Sadie shuts the water off, her hands now firmly on the sink. Her gaze locks with her reflection. Her once smooth skin, disturbed with protruding deep purple bags under her broken teal eyes. Her lips automatically dropping into a deep miserable frown, she finds no need for her mouth to break away from that position for it was practically engraved into her skin.
But soon she will have to tear it out and upturn the frown in a mask of joy and perfection. She doesn't want to do that, she just wants to go home and cry into one of your hoodies and not come out for days on end or until filming starts up again.
She should be strong, but without you there it feels like her whole world is slowly falling apart, and just a gentle push can send it tumbling down. You were her rock, her saviour, her superhero that fends off all the bad guys for her.
But now that you're gone, she has to do that all alone.
An interview without you at her side feels so daunting, she won't be able to clutch onto your hands when she feels a slight bit of nerves. She won't be able to rely on you to get through the merciless questions that will only be worse, now that you're gone.
"Sades?" A soft voice calls from behind the bathroom door. Sadie quickly stands up straight and regains her composure just as the door opens to reveal Millie. "Oh Sades," The Fifteen-year-old says sympathetically opening her arms for the redhead.
Sadie instantly buries herself into the younger girl. "I miss her." She mutters into Millie's shoulder.
"I miss her too."
Millie tightens the hug and she stands there holding Sadie with all her might, afraid that if she were to let go the older girl will break down and shatter right in front of her. But she could feel Sadie begin to sob and heave in her arms. "It's okay," Millie hushes the girl, her one hand rubbing Sadie's back delicately.
After a few more minutes Sadie tears away brushing away her running tears, "I got given the camera she would do her diary entries on. Could we maybe watch it later, at my house with the boys?"
Millie nods, "We would love to do that. Now come Sades, we have to go, it's going to start soon."
The interview was the longest two hours of Sadie's life, she wanted to hide away from all the questions and sympathetic looks she had been given throughout. Noah had noticed her discomfort and had his hand placed on hers comforting the hurting redhead all throughout. The rest of the cast had helped with the questions she had found quite hard to answer, the one's involving you, and how she was feeling since your passing.
But now she sits in her living room cuddled into Millie, with your stuffed dog, watching as the boys try to hook up your old camera, all arguing as they figure out what cable goes where. This earns a small smile from Sadie.
Soon the boys get the camera working and instantly your bright cheery face pops up on the TV. Sadie sits up a little straighter at the sight of you, her heart both racing and aching at the same time. Millie pulls the girl closer to her, in a way of further comforting her but also to make room for Caleb who wanted to sit next to the pair while the others sat on the ground in front of the couch.
"Hello!" Your voice exclaims through the speakers. "Welcome to Diary Entry One! I am as you can see on the set of Stranger Things Season Two!" The camera flicks around showing the bustling set before flicking back around.
The cast knew exactly when this first took place, the first day of filming just after they had all met Sadie.
"We got a new girl here as well, her name is Sadie Sink." You gush into the camera, a pink hue evident on your cheeks. "She's really nice... and pretty." You murmur the last part looking off to the side. "Anyways! Let's go see her!" You quickly rush off to where you had been looking at, camera in tow and stop at a then fifteen-year-old Sadie, "Hello bloody tampon, say hi to the camera!"
Everyone laughs, including Sadie who remembers that exact moment.
"What did you just call me?" Sadie questions in disbelief and You laugh, "You heard me." Before Sadie could say anything else, you quickly leave and shut the camera off.
"Hello!" You shout  with Finn alongside you, "This is, drum roll please Wolf boy," Finn drums his hands on his lap, "Diary Entry Two!" You and Finn cheer loudly capturing the attention of some of the crew members behind you. They immediately hush you both as they film a scene involving Sadie and Caleb. You and Finn quietly apologise before making your way over to Dacre who speaks with Natalia and Joe.
"Dacre!" Finn calls out causing the man to stop and turn to them, a bright smile on his face.
"Hello Lacey, Mike. What can I do for you?"
"Can you answer some-" Finn begins but you cut him off abruptly
"Is Sadie single?"
Finn turns to you and the camera wide-eyed. Dacre raises a brow, throwing a quick glance over to Natalia and Joe. "I don't know? Why, are you interested?"
Your voice sounds panicked from behind the camera, "No! I mean, Finn is."
"Y/n!" Finn shouts, "I don't!" He quickly grabs the camera from your grip and turns it to face a laughing you before cutting the feed.
"Oh, so that's how that rumour sprouted. You look so scared," Sadie giggles and Finn sends her a mocking glare.
"I didn't know she was going to say that okay?" He chuckles.
The next video rolls on and it shows both Sadie and you.
You set the camera down in front of Sadie who was busy getting her hair done. She eyes the camera cautiously as the stylist ducks out the way slightly. "This is Diary Entry number three... I think," You sit down on a chair next to her, your stylist moving in to prep your hair. "We are almost finished filming!" You smile and look over to Sadie who does a quick glance at you. "Anyways, it's time."
"Time for what?" Sadie quiers
"Time for the questions silly," You laugh tilting your head back as your stylist  combs your hair. "First question, how has your time on set been?"
"It's been great! Everyone is amazing!"
"Everyone? You sure you don't mean just me?"
Sadie giggles, "Sure."
A few more questions were asked, them mainly being about how she has felt about her time acting and being forced in a room with you and the others. She had opened up slightly about how she felt kind of isolated in the beginning due to everyone already knowing each other until You and Millie kindly took her under your wing.
"Okay last question, do you have eyes for anyone?" You smirk and Sadie goes silent.
"No comment," You gasp.
"What! Sadelyn Sinkhole does have eyes on someone," You lean forward much to your stylests dismay as she pulls you back. "Who is it?"
Once again Sadie replies, "No comment." and you huff.
"I will get it out of you. It may not be today, but it will happen someday."
Sadie's cheeks turn pink and she can't help but hide her smile in your stuffed teddy, reminiscing about how she had ended up spilling her feelings to you not even a day later. To her surprise back then you had reciprocated her feelings and even managed to steal her first kiss, she doing the same to you.
The next video rolls on with you beaming once again in the camera.
"Hello!" You exclaim once again, in the background was the cast in their season two attire watching you with smiles. "This is Diary Entry number four, we have now finished the infamous season two!" The group breaks out into cheers and a round of applause, and you place the camera down on a stand so that everyone was in the frame and move back to go sit next to Sadie, pushing Finn out of the way in the process.
"I can't believe you couldn't tell she liked you!" Finn exclaims gesturing to the action you had pulled. "Your girlfriend literally pushed me out of my seat," He laughs making Sadie snigger.
"So Caleb Mclaughlin." You start, capturing the young boy's attention, "How was it like to kiss the gorgeous Max Mayfield, the infamous MadMax," You tease and the boy bows his head in embarrassment, Everyone laughs and so do you but it was cut short as you began to cough. "You okay Y/n?" Sadie questions and you nod while Sadie not so sneakily brings her hand into yours.
"Wait!" Millie jumps in disbelief her eyes trained at the holding hands, "Were you two a couple then?" She flickers her gaze over to Sadie who turns as red as her hair, "Oh my God! We thought you two got together just before Season Three." Millie smiles slapping Sadie's leg jokingly, "You dirty dogs!"
The entry's continue, this time mostly showing you and Sadie alone. Most of the time, your hands were wrapped around her waist while she holds the camera up at you two in various locations.
"First date!" Sadie exclaims looking lovingly over at you.
*
"Can you see me?" You question trying to look over into the camera to see if you were in the frame- you in fact were not.
* "Sades!" You call out for her from her living room. "I got you something!" The camera flicks down to a necklace with a small pendant in your hand.
While that video shows, Sadie herself glances down at the necklace you had given her and fiddles with it, her heart fluttering in her chest.
*
"Do you think they'll freak out when we tell them?" Sadie questions fiddling with your hand as the camera shows you both walking back onto the set for a reading. You nod, "Oh, most definitely." The camera cuts and then turns back onto an unknowing Millie waiting for you both at the entrance to the reading.
"Y/n! Sadie!- Woah." Millie's eyes go wide as she spots your hands, "Are you two?" She gestures between the both of you. Sadie confirms with a kiss of your cheek causing her to squeal and run in to tell everyone.
* "Hello! And we're back! Season Three of Stranger Things, it's your favourite character Aunt Helga speaking." You laugh at your own words, "I'm joking, it's the best character out of the show, Dustins' sister Lacey. Today we are as usual on our first day back at filming." You cheer, "This is Diary Entry number five."
"Y/n! Where are you?" Dacre calls out in the background, "You have to go get pepper-sprayed in the face!" You widen your eyes slightly, and Dacre appears behind you, "It's just water don't worry."
The camera cuts but then is turned back on to show a smiling Dacre, he flips the camera around and it shows you being dunked in the Henderson's kitchen sink by Caleb and Sadie. "I'm drowning!" You yell out gasping for breaths. "I'd rather you drown than go blind, Lacey," Sadie comments in Max's character. Caleb goes to turn off the tap but instead accidentally turns it on full speed, the water hitting you right in the mouth making you choke and develop a coughing fit. "I didn't mean to literally drown her!" Sadie yells and Caleb throws his hand up defensively, "My hands slipped."
That scene was a blooper itself but yet it was still kept in the actual show.
Many more diary entries ended up being full of bloopers, you hanging with Sadie and sometimes the rest of the crew until it started to change.
There you stand in front of the camera, your hands clutching your chest tightly, "My chest hurts." You croak out, tears swelling in your eyes from the pain.
The cast visibly sit a little straighter at the sight of you.
You stand there for a few more seconds just holding onto your chest before finally you drop your hands down and stand straighter. You furrow your brows, "It's gone. I don't know what it is but it's been happening a lot lately." You announce but quickly shrug it off as you hear your name being called. You grab onto the camera and run out where Sadie is standing waiting for you with a bright white smile. You grab onto your girlfriend's hand and you walk off to your next scene.
Another video rolls on this time showing you setting the camera down in a position so that it showed the set you were on. You are then seen dashing back onto set and getting onto your starting position with Gaten at your side. The video goes on as normal with the familiar star court scene and then all the way to the end, with Dacre having moved it for you to get the right angles where you stand near a casted officer, signalling the end of the filming process.
"Cut," The director yells and cheers are heard all around. You jump up and hug the nearest person to you, this being Sadie and enrapturing her into a joyful kiss before moving on to everyone else.
The mood is noticeably ecstatic and everyone is busy cleaning up, with you having a quick word with Sadie before going to head for your still recording camera, shouting a 'Shut up' to Caleb who had mocked what you said to your girlfriend. Your smile is bright and inviting until it drops to a stone cold expression.
And then you were seen clutching onto your chest, feet staggering and skin paling before dropping to the floor.
"Y/n!" Gaten screams hurtling over to you, just in time to catch you. You weren't moving and the camera shows it, it shows everything happening at that exact moment. It shows Gatens terrified face as he shakes you, trying to wake you up. It shows crew members flying over to you in a hurry. It shows your girlfriend and the others staring at you horrified and worried.
"Someone call an ambulance!" The director yells shoving past all crew members who were just crowded around you. Immediately chest compressions were started.
"Oh God," Caleb murmurs his teary eyes entranced on the TV. He wants to look away but he can't.
Sadie sniffles, her heart aching tremendously at the screen.
Millie and Finn hold a sobbing Sadie in the far corner of the screen, while Noah is seen dashing for the camera and turning it off.
They thought it was the end but another clip rolls and a bloodshot eyed Sadie Sink appears in one of your hoodies, holding your stuffed dog close to her chest. She was in your dressing room, it was known by the pictures you had placed on the walls of your family and the cast behind Sadie.
"Hi Y/n," Sadie croaks out, voice breaking instantly. She can't speak, her throat hurts and her tears just flow out coating your stuffed animal with her tears. "I miss you. It's only been a few hours since you left us, but I miss you so much." She brings your hoodie to wipe away a few of her tears, "I just want to say I love you."
Sadie can't look at the video anymore, her heart aching in great amounts in her chest, her bottom lip quivering noticeably. She turns and shoves her head directly into a saddened Millie who immediately takes her into her arms. Sadie wishes it was you instead.
She can still hear her own shattering voice in the video, each word breaking and every sentence ending with a cry. A cry of mourning. A cry for you. A cry for you to just come back and tell her you're not going anywhere. A cry for her broken heart.
Sobs wrack Sadie's body and a loud cry exits her making the crying cast members cast looks of sorrow, heartbreak and pain at her.
The video proceeds and Sadie is now still sat in your chair, this time not saying anything. Your stuff dog is latched to her chest, her chin sitting on top of the toy while she runs little patterns on her knee- something you would do to her when you felt nervous in interviews or big events. And then the door quietly opens and Sadie is seen turning back abruptly, her head shaking furiously.
"No, no, no, no," She sobs as your dad steps foot into the trailer there to retrieve your stuff. "Please can I keep the camera, please!" Your dad shakes his head sadly, tears in his own eyes as he reaches down to grab hold of the device.
"Please!" Sadie begs, "I can't live without her. I can't live without seeing her!"
The camera cuts off.
***
Masterlist; celebrities
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Steve, Duke & You
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Pairing: Steve x Reader
Summary: Steve literally stole your dog when you moved into the compound and these two connected. The pictures you got when you were on a mission just added to the jealousy you felt towards your own dog.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: This is Chris Evans fault for posting these precious pictures with Dodger! Also I said drabble, right? Jokes on me...
There once had been a time when you had a dog named Duke. When you had lived in your old apartment you had taken him out for your old neighbor a lot. And when the neighbor passed away and there seemed to be no one taking care of the dog you took him in. How could you have said no to those eyes?
There was no way that you would have known that these eyes would get competition. That was before you moved into the Avengers compound and met no other than Captain America. He should be glad that the nation didn’t know that he mastered the art of puppy eyes.
You should be glad that someone was looking after Duke when you were away on a mission. But now it just felt like you didn’t have a dog anymore and that Steve gained a new companion. You were looking at the screen on your phone where a picture popped up. Steve was holding Duke in his arms, Dukes paws in the air while both of them had their faces turned towards each other and looking content. There was a slight sting in your chest looking at it and you wondered who had taken that picture.
Who would have guessed that your dog had a better love story than you? It seemed like the moment Duke and Steve met the world stood still for a second. They had looked at each other until Duke had sprinted forwards and jumped up at Steves impressive body and liked his face while his tail didn’t stop wiggling. You tried to introduce yourself and apologized for the untypical behavior of your dog, but Steve didn’t seem to mind. It took a while until he stopped scratching the fur and petted the head so he could shake your hand. It just got worse after you moved in and Duke didn’t seem to leave the captain's side.
A notification plopped up on the photo showing you got another picture of Steve. It was captioned The Outtake and showed Steve squinting his eyes so he had wrinkles all around the eyes while Duke’s tongue was covering half of his face as he was liking it when the picture was taken.
“What are you looking at?” Natasha asked and looked over your shoulder. “Oh, you might need to talk about custody with him.”
“As if I didn’t know,” you scoffed. Another message arrived.
He misses you.
We miss you.
“Or maybe you don’t.”
“Hey, stop reading my messages,” you turned off the screen and put it away. You couldn’t wait to go back home and cuddle with your dog. If you could pry him from Steve that is, although joining them wouldn’t be so bad. But while you and Steve were kind of friends most of your talks surrounded the pet and while you were glad about that you couldn’t help but wish for more.
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“Hey pal, that’s your moms. You’re not supposed to play with it.” Steve tried to grab the giant sloth toy that Duke was bringing into his room. There was already drool on it and Steve quickly gave up as he didn’t want the stuffed animal to rip. Duke seemed happy and jumped on the bed placing the sloth and curling around it. He lifted his head and looked at Steve. “Oh, you’re just missing her. But be careful with it,” he said and stroked the dogs fur. He snapped another picture for you. The last ones were seen but you hadn’t responded.
He just hoped that you were okay. Most of the time you’d reply when you had seen the photos at least with an emoji. “Guess there’s nothing we can do except waiting.” He laid down next to the animal and turned on the TV. His nose was filled with the smell of your shampoo and he couldn’t help to wonder if the sloth really slept in your bed the days Duke would stay at his side. Bucky had gifted it to you as a joke, but maybe it wasn’t a joke to you.
He felt bad about stealing your dog, but you assured him it was okay. He didn’t mean for the dog to steal his heart, but when they had looked at each other he couldn’t help himself. And when he heard your voice and looked up and saw your face while you were telling him that Duke was more trained usually, he couldn’t help but think that you could steal his heart too. Not that Steve would ever admit that out loud! Especially not since you just did that.
But it was way easier to connect over a dog than talk about his feelings.
“Dude, now it’s just embarrassing. Stealing her plushie?” a voice interrupted his thoughts.
“I didn’t steal anything. Duke just,” Steve started to defend himself to Bucky.
“Sure, blame the poor dog,” Bucky interrupted. “How many pictures have you sent her today?”
“I’m just letting her know that Duke is okay and cared for. There's nothing wrong with it,” Steve voice got a little louder causing Duke to raise his ears.
“Then why are you getting so defensive? How many?” Bucky pestered.
“Four,” Steve mumbled.
“And how many had you in it?”
“Three,” Steve’s voice got even quieter.
“Just talk to her about your feelings.”
“What, like you’re the expert suddenly?”
“I got more action than you,” Bucky had the audacity to wink at him and left the room before Steve could throw anything at him. Jerk, he thought.
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“Where’s your welcoming committee?” Natasha asked once the two of you stepped into the compound. Usually Steve and Duke would wait for you at the hanger but you couldn’t spot them. When the spy and you walked further into the compound and closer to the living quarters you met Clint who greeted the two of you and he and Nat went their own way, already discussing what had happened these last four days.
You stepped into the living room, expecting to see them cuddling on the couch. When you didn’t spot them there you went to Steves room. The door was open and you looked inside but there was also no sight of them.
“They’re not here,” a voice behind you said and scared you. “They’re on a walk, should be back soon,” Bucky commented once you turned towards him.
“Do me a favor and just help me out. Ask the old man out. He won’t do it and you not responding to his photos that he only did so you could see your dog is taken care of,” he made quotes in the air with his hands, “had him moping around. Actually, he and your dog had the same expression now that I think about it.”
“Aren’t you older than Steve?” you asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh sure, that is what you pick up on. Just ask him out. You like him, he likes you. Easy as that.”
You crossed your arms in front of you. “And since when are you an expert?”
“See, you even match,” he grunted before he walked away.
You put your stuff into your room and decided to take a shower. When you were showered and changed you opened your door just to be met with Duke sitting in front of your door next to Steve who stood in front of it.
As soon as Duke saw you, he jumped up and pushed his nose against your legs and you crouched down and smothered him in love. Okay, maybe your dog missed you too.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked once Duke had calmed down and you started to get up.
“Yeah, everything's okay. Thanks for taking care of this rascal,” you said and smiled at him which cause him to beam at you.
“Always, you know that.”
“Do you,” you cleared your throat and started over. “I wanted to watch a movie. Do you might want to join me?”
“Yes,” Steves reply came so fast it startled him and you. “Have you eaten anything yet? If not, I could do something real quick.” You told him that would be nice and fifteen minutes later Steve carried some snacks into your room.
You were already sitting on your bed and patted the place next to you which caused Steve and Duke to walk towards you and you to laugh. “I think the bed is big enough for the three of us,” you chuckled.
After you had finished the snacks it ended with Dukes head on your stomach while his body was between your and Steve’s legs and your head on Steve’s chest while he was stroking your arm. “If I wouldn’t be afraid to move I would take a picture. I’d rather have a cute one of the three of us as a background than the one I have of you and Duke,” you mumbled sleepily.
“We’re your lock screen?” Steve asked shocked.
“Of course. What do I think I make with these pictures you sent me? These are just too precious.” You didn’t know how he made it, but Steves long arm was suddenly stretched out, his phone in his hand and he took a picture with the three of you in it. “You have to send it to me. And that reminds me: Where is my sloth?” But as you were slowly falling asleep and your voice was barely audible Steve could avoid telling you that it was still laying in his bed because it smelled like you.
Masterlist
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secret-treasury · 3 years
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Dad!Sirius
little blurbs about sirius being the best dad ever. Also includes some sirius X reader, Marauders.
Babysitters
Atlas loves when Lily babysits them. He is just smitten with her and he especially likes her hair. She’ll hold him and he would just stare at her with awe. He would pull a little on her hair and would get pouty when told off for it, especially from James. He isn’t a fan of James' because he always takes Lily away from him at the end of the day and he doesn't like that, but eventually he’d grow to like him... a little.
Neo on the other hand enjoys hanging out with James. She follows him everywhere and wants to be with him when he does random things, she is like his little shadow. She gets pouty if she doesn’t get to play with his glasses and he always tells her to be careful with them so as to not break them. She has an attitude, she rolls her eyes at him. “Well… she's a pads kid alright!” he’d joke. To which she responds with an excited “Padtoot!” and laugh while running away with James' glasses to get her dog plushy.
Remus is however Neo's favorite babysitter and for one reason only. He has a beard and she loves beards and just wants to grab at them. Luckily both Sirius and Remus keep their beards trimmed short so there isn’t much for her to grab. Sirius did the prank on her where he hid the lower part of his face behind a towel, then when he revealed his clean shaven face, Neo was SO upset she wouldn’t stop crying. Whenever she saw him until his beard grew back she’d cry at the sight of him. When he finally had his beard back she had missed him so much. She’d have a similar reaction to remus shaving but milder. Neo loves hanging out with her uncles but daddy is still the best. Remus and Atlas get along great, atlas loves to sit in uncle Remy's lap while he reads, and most of the time he falls asleep, Atlas is a very cuddly and sleepy boy so it works out well.
Regulus is a decent babysitter but confuses the twins slightly when they are very young for the simple reason that he looks similar to their dad. Before they eventually learn the difference, he would be kind of an ‘imposter Sirius’ because they are aware that isn’t dad…. But he really looks like dad….
Bath time!
Both Neo and Atlas LOVE bath time, especially with their dad. They both just can’t stop laughing when Sirius makes himself a bubble beard and causes bubbles to fly everywhere when he talks. He’d create fun narratives with pirates and priateship and sea monsters.
The only thing Atlas doesn’t like about bath time is washing his hair, he cries so much because he doesn’t like getting shampoo in his eyes or when water runs down his face. Luckily Sirius is super gentle with him and makes sure he feels safe the whole time.
“Close your eyes” the little boy does as his father says and shuts his eyes really hard. Sirius puts some shampoo in his palm and rubs his hands together before massaging it into the boy’s hair. Atlas starts whining a little bit. “It’s alright buddy” sirius comforts. When it’s time to wash the shampoo out he gets pouty again. Sirius tells Atlas to lean his head back while he supports the little boy’s back with his hand.
“Are you keeping ‘em closed?”. Atlas nods and again focuses on keeping his eyes shut as hard as he can. “Here comes the water,” Sirius warns. He would never do anything to break his son’s trust, especially not for a laugh. All three of them sing a song together, usually some type of nursery rhyme, to help distract the little scared boy from the water.
Neo was easier to handle albeit a bit wild. She loved singing the song whilst water was running down her face and it sounded like she was underwater. She’d laugh a lot and then accidentally breath in some water. She’d be upset for a moment and cough a bit but in no time she’s singing happily again. Sirius often found himself singing nursery rhymes in the shower when he would wash his own hair, just a weird habit he had when the kids were little.
After bath time he would help them into their cute little bathrobes and then the two kids would run to their mama looking like little jawas. Sirius would join them moments later, clothes splashed with bathwater and bubbles still in his beard. He didn’t mind though.
Bedtime
Sirius would teach them to brush their teeth by themself as soon as possible. He would seat them on the bathroom counter, give them their little toothbrushes and portion out the tooth paste. Neo was the most troublesome in this area, she didn’t like brushing her teeth so he’d tell her an elaborate story of why she needs to brush her teeth. Unfortunately she didn’t believe him. Atlas did though and always pointed out that they need to brush their teeth every morning and evening like the sweet boy he is. Because of Neo's brother pestering her with the importance of brushing her teeth she’d do it. So it worked out for Sirius eventually… in a roundabout way.
After all the teeth had been brushed, including Sirius’, he set them back down on the floor and the twins rushed as fast as their little legs could carry them to their shared bedroom. Atlas would get his blankie and his deer plush that he got from auntie Lils when he was born. Neo would get a book and her very loved dog plushy also called padfoot or as she ‘padtoot’. They would wait for Sirius to join them and he would take a seat in the armchair they had in their little room, he would place the twins in his lap and they would get comfortable. Atlas would share his blankie and they would place their plushies in their laps getting ready for the bedtime story.
Sirius would read to them and also educate them on different topics, making the twins question what happened in the story and why. While also keeping it lighthearted and fun. He’d give the characters different voices, some were funny and some were silly. After they finished the story they would beg him to read another one and it would break his heart telling them no, but he knew they were exhausted and needed their sleep. “There will be another story tomorrow”
Puting Atlas to sleep was the easiest thing in the world. As soon as his head hit the pillow he would be asleep, holding onto his blankie and his plush. Sirius would pull the covers up and lovingly caress the boy’s cheek and place a kiss on his forehead wishing him goodnight.
Neo was more troublesome, she wanted Sirius to stay with her until she fell asleep. He’d tuck her in, kiss her forehead and also give ‘padtoot’ a goodnight kiss. Then he’d sit on the floor by her bed and caress her cheek til she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d fall asleep on the floor leaning onto the side of her bed.
Food habits
Atlas is a picky eater, veggies are his number one enemy and he’ll do anything to not eat them. Sirius understands this because he himself hated veggies when he was little although his punishments for not eating them was very uncalled for. It takes a lot of coaxing to get atlas to eat them and he is always the last one at the table. Sirius has tried everything but it's still a struggle.
“Just eat 3 more broccolis and a cauliflower, then you can go play” Sirius tried to convince the boy but he just shook his head and scrunched up his face in disgust. He couldn’t help but sigh at the cute but stubborn little boy. “Eat two and then we’ll go play afterwards, okay buddy?” Sirius tried to bargain. He saw a glimmer in the boy's eyes.
“You play too?” he asked hopefully and Sirius nodded. Atlas unwillingly picked up the fork and poked at the veggies. After a while he picked out the two smallest veggies and ate them one at a time. “Done!” he declared after forcing them down. Atlas slipped off the chair and rushed to join his siblings.
“Daddy will play with us” he cheered happily, veggies long forgotten. They spent most of the afternoon playing hide and seek. Atlas was the first to get tired and decided to hide under the covers in his parents bed. As he crawled under the covers Neo and Zagreus noticed his genius hiding spot and went to join him.
“Here I come!” Sirius called out as he began looking around the house. Not finding them in the usual hiding spots he began to feel worried even though they couldn’t possibly have left the house. When he passed the master bedroom he noticed 3 child sized lumps in his and his wife's bed. As he got closer he could hear some giggling. He carefully peeled up the covers to peek inside to see his pups. “I found you” he chuckled as he began scooping them up in his arms as they laughed and giggled happily.
When Y/N came home later that afternoon the house was quiet. The plates and cutlery, long forgotten on the kitchen table much to her annoyance. However, the sight she was greeted with in her bedroom of her husband and three little children sleeping together in a pile on the bed, tangled up in the covers and blankets. It was enough for her heart to swell with love.
Neo generally isn't a picky eater, she eats well and healthy meals. She does however love ice cream though. the strawberry, vanilla and chocolate mix also known as neapolitan ice cream. Neo is a tough girl to bargain with as she’s not as easily fooled as other children, but ice cream is her weakness and Sirius does occasionally use that to his advantage.
“Neo, sweetie. Please it’s time to sleep,” Sirius would almost beg as he was seated beside her bed on the floor, being as tired as he wished his daughter was.
“No.” Neo said stubbornly and crossed her arms over the covers. Sirius had tucked the children into bed almost half an hour ago and both boys were fast asleep and sailing off to dreamland. “I don’t want you to leave me daddy” she sniffled and her eyes were glossy with tears. Overwhelmed by emotions she suddenly sat up and threw her little arms around her fathers neck, holding him tight. His arm wrapped around her little body and he caressed the back of her little head with his free hand. He remembered feeling a similar feeling when he was very little. When his mother seemed to love him.
“Of course I won't leave you, puppy.” he said comfortingly as his heart ached in his chest. Neo pulled back to look at him, tears running down her chubby little cheeks. her hands still on his shoulders and her fingers played with his long dark hair.
“Promise me daddy” she demanded with another sniffle. Her words tore him apart within.
“I won’t leave you, ever.” he promised. He knew it was a lie, that one day he would have to leave her alone on this earth, even though it seemed far til then. He dried the tears from her cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Now go to sleep sweetie”
“Only if I get ice cream for breakfast” she argued back with a little giggle as he crawled back under the covers. Sirius tucked her into bed once again.
“Not for breakfast, but sometime tomorrow we can have ice cream, okay?” he said and poked her nose gently and giggled along with her. She lifted her little hand and held out her pinky.
“And strawberries” she said as Sirius wrapped his larger pinky around her little one. It wasn’t strawberry season, Neo knew that but she cleverly made him promise her to get her favourite fruit too. He couldn’t simply go back on a pinky swear.
“And strawberries,” Sirius sighed with a smile on his lips. His little girl was so clever, he knew he got it from her mother but the way she used it, that was all him.
Zagreus eats pretty much anything even if he doesn't like it. He accidentally took a bite of a bar of soap once. It was shaped as a cinnamon bun and the poor boy thought it was real.
“Dad?” he said as he pulled on his fathers sleeve. The potters were over for dinner and Sirius was out on the porch chatting with James over a cold beer.
“What is it boy?” he said and crouched down to the little boy's level. The boy looked puzzled and showed his father the cinnamon bun soap with a child sized bit in it.
“This bun tastes weird, dad.” James couldn’t hold back his laughter.
“Ah, oh it’s not a cinnamon bun, boy” sirius tried to explain but the boy looked at the bun soap and up at his father again convinced that his father was indeed mad. Sirius couldn’t hold back a chuckle “It’s soap.. In the shape of a bun”
“Oh…” Zagreus said finally trying to make sense of his odd food experience. Sirius ruffled the boy's hair. “Here” the boy said and gave Sirius the bun and then wandered off back into the house.
On Sundays it's always pancake or waffle Sunday at the Black’s house and the pups demand having their favorite fruit as a side. Atlas does a lot better with fruits and Sirius takes whatever wins he can get with the boy honestly. Blueberries are Atlas’ favourite fruit or well berry. However he doesn’t like fake fruit flavours in fact he hates them almost as much as he hates his sworn enemy... veggies.
Neo of course enjoys the sweet strawberries and often gets her way which means ice cream instead of whipped cream.
Zagreus loves pomegranates which doesn’t really go well with either pancakes or waffles but he is determined to have it anyway.
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shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (xiii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol
Word count: 6.2k
A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 
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Previous Part  || Series Masterlist
Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?
Saturday started normally enough.
Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.
He still thinks it was worth it.
The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.
Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.
He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.
Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.
He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.
An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 
He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.
“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”
Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.
Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.
“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.
He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.
“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.
“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.
“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.
He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 
The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 
But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.
“Speak,” someone commands off camera.
“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.
“Why you’re here.”
“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”
“I warned you to take this seriously.”
Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 
The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.
“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”
”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”
“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”
“On it.”
“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”
"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”
“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.
You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.
“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”
He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.
“You have to.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”
“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”
“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.
“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.
“Okay, jeez, fine.”
Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.
He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.
“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”
“Do you think she has a strategy?”
“Definitely.”
“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”
“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”
“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”
“Let them come. I’m prepared.”
“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”
“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”
“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”
“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”
“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”
The camera cuts to black.
“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.
“About ten minutes ago.”
Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.
[email protected] just sent you an email.
A video attachment.
“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.
This time, there’s a subject line included.
Attack on the Clone.
"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.
"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."
Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.
“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”
“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.
“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”
“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?
When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.
This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.
"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.
There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 
Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  
"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"
"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."
It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 
"And they listened?"
"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."
"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."
Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.
"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”
“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.
“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”
They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.
“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.
“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”
“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”
Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.
__
For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.
True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.
He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.
The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.
He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.
Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.
He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.
A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.
“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.
“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.
“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 
They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.
“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 
______
“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 
“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.
“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.
“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 
“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”
“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”
“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”
“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.
“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”
“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.
“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”
His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.
“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”
“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.
“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”
“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.
“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”
“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”
“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 
“Megedagik,” he corrects.
You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”
A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 
“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”
“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.
The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.
“Slow and painful,” he settles. 
A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 
“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.
_____
It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.
Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 
Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?
His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 
He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.
“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.
The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 
“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”
A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.
He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.
He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 
Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 
It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.
There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.
“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 
“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.
“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”
“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”
“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”
“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”
“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”
He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”
“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”
A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.
“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”
You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.
You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”
The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.
“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”
“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  
“Yay.”
The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 
“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”
“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.
He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.
“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”
He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.
“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.
"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.
“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”
“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.
“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.
“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”
“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”
“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.
“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.
“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”
“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”
He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 
“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 
“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.
“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 
“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.
“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.
“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.
The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 
“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”
“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.
“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”
“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”
If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.
“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.
“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”
“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”
There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.
“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.
“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.
Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 
There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 
“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.
“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.
“Maybe I will, you bore.” 
Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.
You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 
“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.
He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.
“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 
“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 
“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 
“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 
You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 
“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 
The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.
Another you.
“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.
“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 
“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.
Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.
“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”
“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.
“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.
“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.
“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.
“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”
No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.
“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”
“Can’t really say the same about you.” 
“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”
He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”
“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”
“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 
“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”
“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”
“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”
“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”
“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.
He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.
The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”
“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.
“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 
“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.
“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”
“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”
“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”
“Two.” 
“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”
He thinks it’s good relationship development.
“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”
“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”
“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”
“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”
Busted.
“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”
“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”
“You literally put it in the title.”
“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”
“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”
“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”
His nose twitches.
“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.
“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 
“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”
“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”
“No,” he says stiffly. 
“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”
There was no winning this. 
“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.
“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”
“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”
“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”
“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”
“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”
He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.
You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”
He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.
You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.
“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.
“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.
“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”
“But you don’t.”
He really didn’t.
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also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed
Next part
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ms-starflower · 3 years
Text
Young Survivors — Maribat
It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.
I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.
Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.
Now with a part 2!
Next >
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.
For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.
(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.
“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”
“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)
She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.
(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”
Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)
When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.
When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.
(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.
Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)
That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.
(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.
Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.
“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”
With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)
She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.
By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.
(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.
Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.
You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)
Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.
She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.
Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.
The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.
(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.
Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)
She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.
She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.
He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.
The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.
And he was coming her way.
Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.
They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.
They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.
“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.
“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”
“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”
“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”
“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.
“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.
“I can.”
“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”
“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”
“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”
“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”
“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”
“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.
“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.
“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.
(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”
“Nope, Annie.”
“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”
“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.
It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.
Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.
Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.
(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”
“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”
“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”
“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)
That day was one of those days.
He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.
The Candy Dealers.
Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.
(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)
She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.
She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.
She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).
Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.
She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)
They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.
They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)
There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)
The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)
Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.
Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)
So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.
It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.
The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.
She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…
But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)
She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.
She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.
But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.
Jason Todd was dead.
Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.
She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)
“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”
“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”
She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.
Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.
She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.
“Tikki, spots on!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.
Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.
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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years
Text
Dummy
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow 
Masterlist
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Now you weren’t exactly dumb.
You were just a little slow.
When you joined the Avengers last year, the team learned pretty quickly that your mind moved at a different pace than everyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and it didn’t keep you from doing your job, it just meant you were the butt of most of the jokes. Every time one of your blunders happened, your intelligence would be mocked in some way. You knew it was all in good fun, but it hurt to it feelings every now and then. The only person who never poked fun at you was Peter. And for that reason, he was your favorite on the team.
“How are there 23 minutes left in this movie and I still don’t know any of the characters names?” Steve wondered as you all sat in the couch in Stark Towers, watching a movie on a particularly rainy afternoon.
“I think the main kids name is Phoenix. That’s all I got though.” Sam shook his head, just as confused as Steve.
“The dogs name is Benson.” Bucky mumbled quietly.
“Who names their kid Phoenix?” Peter wondered out loud as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. The two of you were tucked into the corner of the couch, sharing a blanket and bowl of popcorn. You looked at him like he was crazy when you heard his question.
“Ummm, Joaquin Phoenix’s parents.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You turned your attention back to the movie as a silence settled in the room. You felt everyone’s eyes on you after a minute and looked around to see everyone staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.
“What?” You asked shyly, shrinking down a little in your seat in discomfort.
“That’s his last name.” Sam stated, chuckling a little under his breath. You realized your mistake and felt your face heat up.
“Oh.” You mumbled, your voice getting drowned out as the rest of the Avengers laughed at your expense.
“Did she really just say that?” Nat looked at the group with a playful smile. Everyone, excluding Peter, nodded as their laughter died down.
“Oh my God.” Steve chuckled. “That’s so stupid.”
There was that word again.
He didn’t mean it maliciously. Steve was the kinda of guy who ushered spiders into a magazine so he could let them outside. And yet, it still stung when he said that word.
Stupid.
You smiled sheepishly and tried to focus on the movie, snuggling closer to Peters side until it ended. You were fully aware that he was the only one who didn’t laugh, and you loved him that.
And maybe you loved him for a few other reasons too.
~
“Alright. Who has money for the subway?” Sam asked the group as he patted his empty pockets. You were on another late night trip to get cookies from a specific shop in Times Square, leaving without Tony’s knowledge. Everyones hands went to their pockets and collectively made a face.
“Not me.” Rhodey shrugged.
“I don’t have any.” Bruce added.
“I don’t even have pockets.” Nat realized.
“I have gum.” Peter proudly produced a silver wrapper from his pocket. “Oh wait, it’s just a wrapper.”
“You’re telling me we’re earth’s mightiest heroes and we’re broke?” Sam shook his head is disdain.
“I gave my last dollar to a guy in the subway for playing music.” Peter defended himself.
“What was he playing?” You asked him as you tiredly leaned against his arm.
“A mandolin.” Peter answered, making your face scrunch up.
“That’s a language.” You laughed at him slightly, feeling empowered by having the upper hand. Everyone looked at you and a few of them snorted.
“Mandarin is a language.” Bruce said gently, not wanting to embarrass you further. “Not mandolin.” 
“What?” You blinked in confusion and looked to Peter for answers.
“A mandolin is an instrument, dummy.” Sam chortled. You smiled tightly as the group laughed at your mistake, looking down to hide your blush.
“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” You laughed shyly as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pretending to read a nearby sign.
“That’s okay.” Peter spoke up in your defense. “They sound really similar. Plus like, French, French Horn. Who knows what’s going on?”
“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “Or like, bra’s aren’t pointy anymore.”
Bruce nodded like it made perfect sense and Sam just shook his head as he texted.
“What?” You whispered to Peter, not knowing what he meant.
“He’s from the 1920s. He’s still adjusting.” Peter whispered to you out of the corner of his mouth before looking at Bucky. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”
“FRIDAY is sending a car.” Sam informed the group. “This is never happening again. The cookies aren’t that good.”
“They’re pretty good.” Rhodey shrugged, but wanting the late Nate tradition to end. Sam looked at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.
“Hell yeah they are. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”
~
Bruce found you in the lab the next day with a pin between your teeth and a pencil behind your ear. Papers with drawings of suits were scattered around the table as you measured a piece of black fabric.
“What are you doing?” Bruce wondered as he took a seat across from you. You glanced up at him before marking a dot on the fabric.
“Mr. Stark asked me to help him with the new suits. I’m trying to make a fabric template for Nat’s gloves.” You told him as you smoothed the fabric out.
“Is it hard?” He asked, watching you intently as you worked.
“Not really.” You shrugged and took a step back to examine your work. “Okay. How many holes do we need? 1,2,3,4,5.” You counted your fingers. “Okay. Five holes.”
You sat back down and put five dots where her fingers would be to mark where you had to cut. You heard a slight chuckle from Bruce and looked up at him curiously.
“Did you just count your fingers?” He asked slowly, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he had. “To know how many fingers Nat has?”
Your face burned when you realized how dumb you looked, in front of a scientific genius no less.
“Oh, Uh, yeah.” You stammered, feeling very insecure with him watching you now. You moved slower than before and second guessed moves you’d already made a hundred times. Bruce sensed your discomfort and got out of his seat, tapping the table twice as he thought.
“Have you ever heard the expression “the lights are on but nobody’s home’?” He asked you and you were grateful he changed the subject.
“Yeah, I think I have.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing something.
“It reminds me of you.” Bruce said so politely that you didn’t realize it was an insult at first. He left the lab to find Tony, leaving you feeling embarrassed and a little hurt. Everyone knew Bruce could hurt you ten times worse with his words than the Hulk could with his fists, you’d just never been his target before. You slumped down in your seat and continued making the gloves, your mood significantly dampened from before he came in the room.
~
You walked into the kitchen the next morning, sleepily rubbing your eyes. You pressed a chaste kiss on Peters shoulder as you passed him, also more affectionate to your best friend when you were half asleep. You smiled at Rhodey, who was seated at the bar and skimming through a newspaper.
“Did you eat yet?” You asked him through a yawn as you got out yogurt and fruit for yourself.
“No. I needed my coffee first.” He smiled sleepily at you and held up his mug.
“Oh, you mean your sugar with a spoonful of coffee?” You teased him. “Yeah, it’s good you got that out of the way.”
“I prefer it this way. The sugar wakes me up.” Peter defended his drink as he took a sip.
“That’s what the caffeine is supposed to do, mi amor.” You laughed as you ruffled his bed head ridden hair. He was about to make a comeback when his stomach rumbles loudly.
“Someone’s hungry.” You remarked. “Do you want eggs?”
“No thanks.” Peter shook his head. “I can’t eat eggs alone.”
“Well I’m here. And Rhodey’s right there, so you’re not alone.” You told him. “And I can grab Steve and Bucky. They’re just in the other room.”
Rhodey looked up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows and looked at Peter. Peter set his mug down and made a face at Rhodey that told him not to say anything. You looked between the two of them in confusion as you wondered what was going on.
“I meant alone as in without toast, sweetness.” Peter said gently, not wanting you to feel dumb for misunderstanding. “But I am glad you’re here.”
“Oh.” You faked a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal. Peter had handled the situation with ease and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you normally would. That is until…
“You know, Y/n, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Rhodey nodded before going back to his newspaper. You froze with your spoonful of yogurt midway to your mouth and looked at him. He didn’t actually call you dumb, but it was implied. You looked at Peter to see if he was thinking the same thing, but his face had nothing but kindness on it.
“You are pretty.” He agreed with Rhodey. “But you’re a lot of other things too.”
You cracked a smile and rubbed his back for a moment in appreciation.
“Thanks Peter.” You said softly and went back to your breakfast. Not wanting to worry him, you ignored the way Rhodey’s comment made you feel and tried to push it from your mind. But no hard you tried to focus on other things, you had one thought prodding at the back of your head.
You were dumb.
~
A week went by without anyone poking fun at your intelligence. You had a sneaking suspicion Peter had something to do with the lack of comments, but you said nothing. It was nice to have a break from all the teasing and it made hanging out with the team more enjoyable. You all lingered around the kitchen one day, eating all different kinds of lunch when Tony came in the room.
“Eat up, funky bunch.” He clapped his hands. “We have a mission in Alaska to train for and I need all hands on deck. Cap, do you think you can teach Peter that spinny thingy you do?”
“I can try.” Steve looked at Peter and nodded.
“Great. I’m getting a manicure. I’ll be back around noon.” Tony informed you all.
“Wait, I thought you said all hands on deck.” You tilted your head at him.
“I did. Which I why I have to make sure my hands look the best.” Tony waved flirtatiously, wiggling his fingers around like a teenage girl. He smirked as his action was met with some eye rolls and a few chuckles before leaving the room.
“I can’t believe we’re going to Alaska.” Peter nudged you excitedly and you smiled with glee.
“Is Alaska the same as the North Pole? Or am I thinking of Antarctica?” Sam wondered out loud.
“No. The North Pole is all the way at the top. Alaska is below California. Like by Texas.” You said confidently, proud that you knew information that someone else didn’t. Your pride quickly dissipated when you saw the teams faces twist in amusement.
“Wait a minute.” Steve looked at you like you were joking. You shrugged, letting him know you weren’t. Sam burst out laughing and clapped his hands as the rest of the team began to laugh.
“Absolutely not.” Sam grinned as he wiped a tear from his eye.
“Yes it is.” You insisted. “Look at any US map. It’s on the bottom by Hawaii.”
You were getting angry now. You knew you were right this time and they were still teasing you.
“No.” Bucky shook his head is dismissal. “No.”
“Alaska is below California on every map I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me I’m wrong?” You our your hand on your hip and stared at them.
“100%. I am 100% telling you you’re wrong.” Sam said between his laughter. Peter came to your side and showed you a picture of a map on his phone.
“Alaska is US territory but it’s not connected to the rest of the states. They just put it below California on maps to show it’s a part of the US. Thats not actually where it’s located.” He said quietly. You looked at the map for a few seconds before you realized he was right. And if he was right…
You were wrong.
“Oh.” You smiled apologetically and averted your eyes. “Oops.”
You turned around and pretending to clean up the kitchen to hide your searing blush. Your fingers clenched around your sponge when you heard the teasing laughter from behind you.
“Sometimes I wonder how you made it out of high school.” Steve joked as he threw out the crusts of his sandwich. The comment stung you and you began to scrub the counter faster so you could leave the room sooner. Peter could see your shoulders tense and put a reassuring hand on your back. You gave him a tight lipped smiled before putting your dish in the sink.
“I’m still wondering how she made it out of first grade.” Nat teased you and she poked your side.
“I can’t believe she made it out of the womb in the first place with nobody telling her where to go.” Sam said, making everyone laugh loudly. You abruptly threw a dish in the sink, making everyone go silent. You tuned around slowly and faked a smile.
“Haha. Yeah.” You forced a laugh. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
You swiftly left the room before anyone could catch your tears. You felt stupid for even getting upset over it, but their words hurt. Feeling like you were always the dumbest person in the room was taking a toll on you, especially when you weren’t the only one who felt that way. Peter watched you leave with sympathetic eyes, feeling his own frustration bubble at the sound of the team laughing at you. He thought they had listened the first time he told them to stop making fun of you, but they clearly hadn’t. After seeing the pained look on your face, Peter made a decision.
It was never going to happen again.
~
“Ugh. I’m never gonna get this right.” Peter groaned as he messed up the move Steve was trying to teach him once again.
“You’re getting too much inside your head. Just let it happen naturally.” Steve instructed as he resumed his stance. Peter tried the move again, wiping out and landing on his side with a thud. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you spared with Nat.
“I can’t.” Peter got up and rubbed his arm. “I can’t do it.”
Steve nodded, like he was accepting Peters defeat. You stopped sparing and looked at Peter.
“Yes you can. Come on, Peter.” You encouraged him. “Everyone told Van Gogh that he couldn’t be an artist because he only had one ear but he did it anyway.”
The room feel silent, as it often did when you spoke, and everyone looked down.
“Oh dear Lord.” Rhodey sighed and hung his head and he snickered. You could see everyone else fighting back laughter or cracking a smile, yet saying nothing.
“What?” You crossed your arms in annoyance, looming to Peter for help.
“He chopped his ear off after becoming an artist.” Peter said kindly. “He wasn’t born without one.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it.
“Speaking of ears, do you think of you shone a light in one of Y/n’s ears, it would come out the other ear?” Tony quipped, making everyone laugh. The tips of your ears burned as that feeling of stupidity sunk in again. You undid the Velcro on your boxing gloves and pretended to wipe sweat from your face as you rushed to the bin where the gloves went. You kept your back to the group and pretending to be putting your gloves away when you were really concealing your pained expression.
“Yes.” Nat jeered. “Yes I do.”
Your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you turned around, making every effort to keep your face neutral. Your face didn’t give away any signs of sadness, but your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bin gave your true feelings away. Peter noticed this and felt his jaw clench. If you weren’t gonna tell them to stop, he was.
“Leave her alone, guys.” He commanded the crowd before looking at you. “Thanks for the encouragement, Y/n. I’m gonna keep trying.”
“It’s fine.” You nodded curtly. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”
You walked out of the gym, pausing in place when you heard Sams voice.
“Hit the showers?” He laughed. “We just started.”
“Shhh. Don’t confuse the poor girl any further.” Bruce joked back. You looked back at the gym with your eyebrows knit together, taking a quiet step closer to hear what they were saying about you without you there.
“She’s probably like, ‘whats this magic closet that makes rain?’” Rhodey imitated your voice, making you sound as dense as possible.
“Knock it off guys. It’s not funny.” Peter snapped, but the teasing continued.
“Or like, ‘this shampoo says it adds volume, but I used it and I can’t hear any louder than before’.” Tony mocked you, skipping around a little like a child. Your face contorted in misery as they made fun of you. You knew who they really were, and they were good people. They didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, they were only joking around like they did with everyone. Steve was teased all the time for his old fashioned dialect and no one lets Tony live down the kimono incident. Still, all their insults and mockery cut you like a knife.
“Ahh, I love that girl.” Nat shook her head with a smile. “She’s so dumb.”
“She may be slow, but she’s entertaining as hell.” Sam nodded in agreement.
“I said knock it off.” Peter repeated, getting a reaction this time.
“Aw. Peters mad because we’re teasing his girlfriend.” Nat pouted and pinched Peters cheek. She quickly realized how wholesome she was being and punched Bucky in the face to maintain her lethal assassin persona.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter grumbled. Now that you were out of the room, he was the next target.
“He’s right. Hey, maybe that’s why you guys haven’t gotten together yet.” Rhodey shrugged. “She’s too stupid to realize you’re in love with her.”
That was all you had to hear. You ran towards your with tears running down your face. Thanks to Peters advanced heating, he heard every heavy footstep.
“Okay. Maybe she is a little slow.” Peter shook his head in disdain at the team. “But you guys are idiots.”
~
You were quiet the entire way to Alaska, keeping to yourself and silently looking out the window. Peter attempted to talk to you once or twice, but he could tell you wanted to be alone. The Avengers completed the mission within a few hours with minor damage to the area. Peter focused on his job but found himself looking for you every now and then, being as you usually stayed together during missions. He didn’t see you anywhere and assumed you were doing your own thing on the other side of the field. He heart rest assured when he saw you boarding the jet, still looking reserved and aloof from the rest of the team. You took a seat by the window and rested your chin on your hand, looking out at the bleak landscape in front of you as the jet took off. Peter didn’t engage in small talk with the rest of the team and wistfully stared at you instead, silently willing you to cheer up.
“I think that went pretty well.” Rhodey nodded and the team agreed. “But where were you the whole time, Y/n? Picking daisies?”
Peter held his breath as you slowly turned around. You gave Rhodey a frigid smile and shook your head.
“We came during a blizzard so I used my powers to create a heated force field around the area we were in to prevent frostbite and give you guys and easier time seeing in the snow. We were also at a higher altitude than any of us are used to so I kept the air pressure to sea level standard.” You said simply. “And I assumed there would be smoke from the battle so I rounded up the nearby animals and made a separate for field around them to protect their lungs.”
The room went silent, something you were used to at this point. But instead of everyone falling silent because they were laughing at you, they were impressed.
“Oh.” Rhodey blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer he was given.
“I also picked this flower.” You smiled proudly as you produced a Forget Me Not from your lap. Peter couldn’t keep the grin from breaking through on his face. You were the center of attention once again, but in a good way this time. Everyone was pleasantly surprised with what you had done and it showed.
“I didn’t think about the altitude.” Nat realized.
“I had no idea there was a blizzard.” Steve added, looking dumbfounded.
“Because I kept you from knowing.” You shrugged. “I wanted you guys to focus on the mission.”
“I mean, I knew. I just didn’t tell you guys because I was so distracted by my buffed and polished nails.” Tony twiddled his fingers again, showing off his freshly manicured nails. You all laughed, breaking the tension in the jet.
“Well look at that.” Sam looked impressed. “Y/n knew something we didn’t.”
It was almost a compliment, but it still made you feel insecure. You didn’t want it to be this mind boggling every time you did something useful.
“Thanks, Y/n. That was really smart.” Peter said softly as he patted your knee. You put your hand over his and squeezed it. It was the first time someone called your smart, and it made you feel good.
“It was really smart.” Sam said skeptically. He stared at you for a moment before poking your side.
“What are you doing?” You swatted his hand away.
“Just making sure you’re still in there.” He eyed you suspiciously. Peter could sense the attention was making you uncomfortable and changed the subject.
“Are we almost home?” He asked Tony before peering out the window. The flight was a little over 7 hours on a normal plane, but the Stark jet was much quicker. The flight would only take a few hours, but Peter was not known for being patient.
“Yes, Peter. We are almost back at the tower. You can get your diaper changed and your bottle as soon as we get back.” Tony sassed him, making him shrink in his seat. Your body language had completely changed and your were now sitting straight, facing the group. Peter was glad you were feeling better and didn’t even mind Tony’s comment.
“Guys, let’s be civil. We’re all tired. We all want to get home.” You said calmly. “Let’s just focus on how pretty the sky looks tonight. Isn’t is pretty, Peter?”
He gazed at your profile as you looked out the window at the stars, admiring how pretty you looked from the side.
“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” He conceded without ever taking his eyes off you. You shot him a smile before looking straight ahead at the dashboard.
“Wow, the moon is huge!” You pointed time a large yellow crescent that could be seen through the window.
“That’s literally the reflection of my banana on the windshield.” Tony deadpanned. He may have been right, but it still looked pretty.
“Should we make a wish?” You asked Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment.
“On the banana?” He asked.
“Yes.” You nodded. “On the banana.”
“Why?” Rhodey asked. “It’s not like people wish on the moon.”
“It feels like we should.” You said with confidence.
“Yep. She’s still in there.” Sam chuckled. And just like that, your confidence receded.
“I hate it here.” Bucky sighed heavily and tuned out of the conversation.
“It must be so peaceful being you, Y/n.” Tony remarked.
“Why do you say that?” You wondered.
“Because instead of thinking about your problems and mistrials, you simply don’t think at all.” Tony said suavely. In only a better for minutes, you’d gone from being the hero to the laughing stock of the group. The sly comments and taunting laughter made you feel like you should stop opening your mouth entirely. You faked a smile and turned back towards the window, tuning out the rest of the way home. Peter chewed his lip as he stared at you, feeling useless to helping you out. The team just wouldn’t let up, no matter how many times he told them to stop. Knowing you weren’t in the mood to talk, he scooted closer to you and put a comforting hand on your back. You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder, listening to him point out the constellations the whole way home.
~
The next day, you and Peter were sitting in the balcony, working on some new gadgets for Mr. Stark when Peter made a startling discovery.
“Where’s my right web shooter?” Peter stood up in a panic when he realized it was missing. “I left it right here.”
“Maybe a bird carried it off.” You shrugged as you twisted a tiny screw into Peters left web shooter.
“I’m being serious, Y/n.” Peter stated. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me and turn me into a decorative rug if I lost it.”
“I’m being serious too. We live in New York and I see birds around here all the time.” You told him as you continued your work. “And you know the pigeons here are feral. A bird probably stole it to pay for his child support.”
Peter usually entertained your antics and joined in with his own batch of sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood. His web shooter was missing and their were actual stakes involved. Without his web shooter, he couldn’t be Spiderman. And without Spider-Man, he couldn’t be an Avenger.
“Can you be serious for once?“ Peter whined, picking up everything on the table to look under it.
“I’m just saying it’s possible, Peter. You never know.” You insisted as you put your screw driver down to help him look. You began looking in the flower pots on the windowsill that you and Peter had planted. Peter stopped his search for a moment, growing angry with you for wasting time. He didn’t know if you were joking around or genuine believed his web shooter was in the flower pots, but it made him frustrated nonetheless. A combination of his lack of sleep and stress over losing the webshooter manifested into a moment of unchecked rage.
“No, it’s not possible.” He snapped. “A bird didn’t steal my web shooter. God, do you have to be so stupid?” 
 The word hung in the air for a moment, settling in to the both of you. Peters eyes immediately softened, feeling instant regret for what he had said. You stopped trifling through the plants and slowly turned around.
“What?” You asked quietly. Peter tightened his lips into a line and tried to justify what he had said.
“I try to defend you but you make it so hard. Can you help me out a little here and not be so…” He trailed off when he realized he had only made it worse. Your face hardened and you looked disappointed in Peter, which killed him. He would have preferred anger or even sadness, but the disappointment killed him.
“So what?” You shrugged. “Finish your sentence Peter.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“No, really, go ahead.” You stated coldly. “You got this far. So what, Peter?”
He looked at you for a moment, getting that feeling of wishing you could turn back time just a few seconds to fix a mistake.
“So dumb all the time.” He finished his sentence with an unsteady voice. Your face scrunched up in a pained expression as you sucked in and let out a shaky breath.
“You were the only one who never called me that.” You whimpered before moving past him and going inside. Peter watched you through the open balcony doors as you disappeared into the hallway with a heavy heart. His mouth was open to apologize, but you were long gone. He’d seen you being ridiculed so many times already, and now he was the one doing it. All that talk about it never happening again, only for him to be the reason it happened. Peter couldn’t live with himself for another minute without you knowing how sorry he was. He took a step towards the doorway until he heard a pigeon land on the table. He watched it curiously for a moment as it pecked at the screwdriver you had been using before picking it up with its beak. It flew over to the edge and began to walk along the railing, still keeping the screwdriver in his mouth. Peter followed the pigeon, walking all the way down the balcony to find a large nest in the corner. He watched as it dropped the screwdriver into its nest, right next to his web shooter.
“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter.” Peter said in disbelief. Peter watched as baby pigeons poked out from inside the web shooter to greet the other pigeon.
“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter for his kids.” Peters eyes widened even more than they already were. Realized struck him and his shoulders slumped.
“She was right.” He mumbled, angry at himself more than ever. “I yelled at her and she was right.”
Peter wasted no time in rescuing his web shooter from the birds, offering them a nice biodegradable coffee cup in its place, and ran to the kitchen to make you a peace offering. He knocked softly on your door and didn’t wait for an answer before going in.
“I made you this cup of tea as an apology.” Peter stiffly held out a mug with an awkward smile on his face. You looked at Peter from your bed, eyes puffy like you had been crying. You stared at each other for a long time, you with a death glare and Peter with his awkward smile. Neither of you said a word as Peter continued to hold out the mug. After two full minute of silence, a bead of sweat ran down Peters face as he looked around nervously, never breaking his smile. You let out an angry sigh and decided to throw him a bone, crossing the room to accept his mug. You looked into the cup for a moment before looking back at Peter.
“This is empty.” You deadpanned.
“I don’t know how to make tea.” Peter whispered, never breaking eye contact.
“I’ve seen you make it.” You snapped.
“I forgot how to do it.” Peters eyes shifted nervously to the side.
“Bucky was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?”
“I know he hates me.” Peter talked over you as you groaned. “I know he does.”
“Just go away.” You tried to close the door but he kept it open.
“No.” Peter said firmly. “I came in here to apologize.”
“You see this?” You held up the mug for a Peter to see. “It’s my cup of care. And look at that” ,you dumped the cup over, “it’s empty.”
Peter stared at your demonstration with raised eyebrows, surprised that you were still able to be sarcastic when he hurt you. Peter took the mug from your hands and set it on the ground before slowly looking up at your face.
“You’re not stupid.” He said softly with all the sincerity his heart could give. You scoffed and folded your arms, looking to the side when you felt tears sting your eyes.
“Yes I am.” You said like you fully believed it, which was Peters worse fear. “Everyone says so. Even you.”
It hit Peter like a sheet of glass when you looked at him like that.
Like he was someone you didn’t want around.
“I didn’t mean to say that.” Peter apologized. “That is not how I feel. At all.”
“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about saying that before.” You laughed sadly. “Everyone on the team calls me dumb. It was only a matter of time before you did it too.”
“I didn’t mean it.” Peter repeated. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Bullshit.” You snapped. “You’re so full of bullshit.”
“I’m not full of bullshit.” He whined like a child and gave you puppy dog eyes. “I’m full of regret.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek as he gave you his best pout, willing you to forgive him. Finally, you caved and cracked a smile.
“I hate you.” You stamped your foot and hung your head, frustrated with yourself for not being able to stay mad at him. Peter opened his arms and you walked into them, arms still folded angrily. You bumped your forehead against his shoulder before moving to rest your chin on it as he wrapped his arms around you. Peter nestled against your hair and sighed, happy that you had forgiven him but still saddened that he had hurt you in the first place. He could see the pile of used tissues on your bed and it killed him to know he made you cry.
“I didn’t mean to call you that. I really didn’t.” He said softly. “I’m the one who’s been trying to stop people from saying that.”
“But they still do it.” You sniffled. “Everyday I get called dumb or stupid or scalene.”
“I think it’s obtuse, not scalene.” Peter reluctantly corrected you. You pulled away and little and let Peter wipe the tears from your face.
“Maybe they’re right.” You shrugged and looked Peter in the eyes. “Maybe I am dumb.”
Peter kept your face between his hands, staring at you for a moment before sighing.
“I once sneezed so many times in a row that I peed my pants.” Peter deadpanned. “I was 17.”
“What?” You chuckled as you wiped your nose.
“I saw Bucky try to take a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal arm and electrocute himself.” He continued. “And I constantly see Tony bumping into glass doors.”
“I don’t understand.” You squinted your eyes, but sure what point he was trying to make.
“Steve still picks up the phone and asks for the operator. Nat leaves her curling iron plugged in all the time. I do not think Sam knows the address of where we live and I’m pretty sure Rhodey can’t do laundry. He gets all his stuff dry cleaned, even his socks.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” You asked.
“Because were all dumb.” Peter concluded. “We all do and say dumb things. You don’t know where Alaska is and no one in this tower can read analog clocks. If we’re all dumb, then maybe none of us are dumb. Or we all are. Who cares?” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “And you were right. A bird did carry off my web shooter. So no, you’re no dumb. Or stupid. Or obtuse. You’re, uh, you- you…” Peter looked down at he fumbled over his words.
“I’m what?” You raised an eyebrow. You could finish his sentence last time, but this time you were lost.
“You’re…” Peter tampered off again, staring at your confused expression for a moment before pulling you into a kiss. Your hands clenched into a fist and slowly uncurled as you relaxed into the kiss. Peter pulled away too soon and let his eyes flutter open. They met yours and you shared a moment of hesitation, not knowing what happened rest next.
“I’m gonna be honest lovey, I didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.” Peter chris joes softly, his breath fanning your face. “That was mainly improv.”
“You’re pretty good at improv, Parker.” You cracked a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“I did a little bit of theater in high school.” He shrugged smugly, making you giggle.
“Mmm. I severely don’t want to hear about that.” You teased before kissing him again.
“Oh, I think you do.” Peter remarked. “Because I once went to the bathroom during intermission with my mic still on and the entire audience heard me peeing.”
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You’re so stupid.”
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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years
Text
Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)
Tumblr media
In collaboration with @bethanysnow
Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.
Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)
Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano
Word Count | 6644
Shoutout to @damianodavide​, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘
***
Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact. 
He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.
He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again. 
***
“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.
“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?” 
“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.
“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.
Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”
“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.
Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”
Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.” 
“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”
“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably. 
“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”
“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”
The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”
*** 
The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.
The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.
She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.
“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”
Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.
“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?” 
Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms. 
“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.
“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.
“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.
“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.” 
“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.
He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!” 
*** 
Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.
“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.
He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”
Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.
Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.
A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.
“Do I look silly?” 
“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”
She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?” 
“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”
“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.
“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”
She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.
“I need some air.”
The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.
She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.
***
Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.
"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."
Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.
“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then. 
“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.” 
He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.” 
"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"
She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."
Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."
Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now,  he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.
"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."
As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.
"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."
"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."
***
A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.
Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.
This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.
A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now. 
“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.
“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.
It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.
She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.
“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”
Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”
“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.
“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”
Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.
“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.
“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before. 
The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”
Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.
The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional. 
“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.
“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”
“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.
“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.
A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.
“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.
“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”
“You sure about that?”
Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.
“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”
“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”
Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.
She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the  examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table.  It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.
“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”
***
It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.
“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”
Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.
“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”
He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.
Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.
“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.
“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.
“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.
“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”
He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.
He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.
“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it. 
“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.” 
She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.
He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.
Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.
***
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