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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song."

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard."

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night."

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked.

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking."

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band."

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right."

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid.

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!"

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!"

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation.

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover.

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?"

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me."

"What does it look like?" You asked.

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one."

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told."

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it."

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned?

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner.

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table.

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this."

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care."

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-"

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor.

"It was a gift." He finished anyway.

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head.

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much."

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered.

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering."

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me."

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.”

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage.

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help?

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition.

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly.

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack.

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile.

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you.

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy."

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music.

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush.

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone."

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans."

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side.

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

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champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fanfic #fanfiction #champagne problems au

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bangbangchanie · 3 years

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Maybe~Chan/ Changbin

Summary: When the love of your life died, falling again is paralyzing yet the person who's always been there makes it a maybe.

Paring: Reader x Chan(Past)/ Reader x Changbin

Warning: Character death, like angst really angst. Fluff

Word Count: 3.2K

AN: Admin Winnie here! Finally reposting this after removing a certain someone. Its the same sad story just with Changbin:)

Arms were tightly wrapped around your waist as your eyes stared at the scene in front of you. Red and blue lights flashing in the dark night sky as smoke and a blaring ringing sound echoes through your ears. You didn't realize you were screaming, screaming out his name as you saw his mangled car. Your knees buckled as the EMT who was holding you fell with you.

“Christopher!” You sobbed. His eyes were watching you from the scene, his body moving across the road.

“Baby, are you okay?” He asks as he reaches mid way as you cry his name again. “Baby, Y/n I’m right in front of yo-” he was cut off from talking and walking when someone walked through him. Your cries grew distant as he looked at his chest, his eyes wide as he looked back to the car. His bleeding body was being dragged from the car, as CEPR was being performed. It felt surreal, watching his limp body move with someone’s pushed against his chest. He brought out his thoughts when your cry turned into a scream of pain. His eyes met your crumbling body, he moved to you. His hand reaching out to only have it pass through your face making you curse.

“I’m here, baby, right in front of you. I swear I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.” He whispered tears trailing down his face as you finally stopped screaming his name and just cried. “I’m still here.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Chris..Chris was the life of the party even if there wasn’t one.” Minho said as he shook his head a small smile lifted up on his lips, though his smile was painfully matched with swollen red bloodshot eyes. His cheeks puffy as you stood in all black in your shared apartment. “He did this thing where if it was too quiet he’d just start singing a random ass song and dancing. You know? He..he always tried to find the light in the dullest things, and he always…he always made me feel..us feel like we were…are bigger than this.” His eyes tailored to your hunched body, your eyes dull as you give him a small smile, tears trailing down your face as his mother grips your hand. Her sobs wracked her body as Minho looked at the glass in his hand. “Y/n..Mr. and Mrs. Bang..Chris…god he was a special man. I am so thankful you two gave him a life and a voice..and Y/n thank you for making him smile when no one else could…this is for you brother.” Chris was next to you and his mother, his eyes tearing up as he watched Minho turn around and let out a small sob as he walked away. Changbin stepped up, his skin pasty and his eyes just as bloodshot.

“We met in the second grade..he was new and had this accent that kids liked to make fun of. But he never saw it as a set back, and took it as a complement…he..fuck.” Changbin stopped speaking as he wiped his eyes. “I..I was told a month ago that he was..was looking for a ring.” He paused, making you stop breathing for a split second as you leaned closer to his mother, your heart clenching as Changbin looked at you. “I was told to prepare a speech as best man, that who I was to Chris and who he was to me. He was..and still is my brother. A man I want to scream at because he left us. He left me. With a speech, and no event to give it at. I wanted to give it here, but I can’t because it hurts too much. I’m so sorry Y/n..” Changbin coughs as he steps away as you wipe at your face. You take a shaky breath as you stand. His brother is clinging to your hand as Chris watches you, moving to stand to your blank side.

“Thank you all for coming..I know..I know Chris would scream at us all for crying like this.” Your words made his mother choke back a cry as his father rubbed her shoulder. “He didn't like it when the people he loved were upset, or cried. He didn’t enjoy not know-knowing how to fix..fix it all.” You breathed out as you messed with your black dress. “He loved with his whole heart…we all know that. He did..he did this weird habit that I still don’t understand and I was with him for four years..but where’d he grab the bottom of his shirt and spread it out in front of him when he was in deep thought.” His mother chuckled as she shook her head.

“He stretched every single one of his school shirts.” She said, making the room lightly laugh as you look at Changbin and Minho who clang to each other, their trio now turning into a duo.

“We love you Chris..I love you.” You whisper as you sit back down, people now talking among one another as you swear you feel a wetness drop on your shoulder where his head hangs over as he tries to imagine his arms around you.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Honestly fuck you Christopher Bang!” You scratched at the broken picture frame. Your eyes were full of tears as you looked out the window. People living their lives, unknowingly passing the house of a broken girl that had black running down her face and it pissed you off that they didn’t know.

His scent was still wrapped around you, around the four walls of the apartment you shared together. His clothes still hung up in the clothes, and tossed outside of a drawer. His pillow at the end of the bed and his shoes resting against the front door wall.

“I hate you so much!” Your voice cracked as you fell to the hardwood ground. His large sweater falls over your hands as you bring your knees to your chest and sob into them. “Yo-you just left, n-no good-goodbye n-no an-anything.” You cried tears falling down as you rocked back and forth. The pain in your chest was breaking you down, shattering against any idea of love you had any future you planned together. You swear you heard his voice making you perk up and look around, the shuffling of his pillow made you stand up and wipe your cheeks. “Chris?” You whispered as you watched the bed dip.

“Y/n?” Changbin called out as he slowly set the key he had been given when you and Christopher had moved in. He was the security blanket for you two, always making sure you were sleeping, and eating. Killed the bug for the both of you, and watched the place as you traveled. “Oh Y/n.” He whispered seeing you down the hall in the bedroom. He walked down as you keep your eyes locked on the pillow, a dip in the bed that wasn’t there before. Your heart stopped as an arm wrapped around your middle, making you blink, and the dip in the bed was gone. “Come on, let me make you some hot chocolate.” He whispered against your hair as he pulled away and took your hand. His own body was covered in one of Christopher’s jackets. His body moved throughout the kitchen. “A month down.” He whispers, making you sigh as you let out another sob as your head falls.

“I-i miss him so fucking much.” You sob, making Changbin stop moving as he turns and looks at you. “Th-this isn't fair, we-we were gonna move into a house.” You whisper, making Changbin face you his mouth parted at the new information. “My love, my hero ,my everything was ripped for me…and it’s all his fault.” You sob, making Woojin jump into your body, his arm tightly wrapped around you as your body shakes.

“It's gonna be okay…it's gonna get easier..I think.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“What the fuck did you do to our bed?!” You scream at Minho and Changbin who were standing in the living room talking.

“What do you mean? I mean I made it-ow!” Minho cried as you slapped him. Tears falling down your face as you glare at him.

“His pillow stays where it was, his blanket stays bunched up..I can't recreate it, because it won't be the damm same! You asshole!” You cry as you start to shake as Minho's eyes widen. Not realizing it hadn't made sense he last laid there.

“I did-didn't know.” Your body shook as Chan finally found a way to hug you without passing through you. His head nuzzles your neck making you cry harder.

“Im..I’m sorry.” You whisper, making Minho step forward and cup your cheek.

“It's okay.” Chris moves away and Minho and you share a group hug with Woojin.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Chris..I know this..this is weird.” You mumble as Chris sits next you on the bed, his hands reaching for your thigh as you let out a deep breath of air. “This is honestly crazy..but I just need you to know..what I said a few weeks ago..that it was your fault..it..it wasn't true..and when I screamed I hate you..it wasn't even close to the truth. Because…'cause you were..were the one and..I still need you here but you gone..and I took it personal…but death shouldn’t be personal.” You whisper, making him lightly smile as you take a deep breath. “I think..I think I’m gonna pack up some of your clothes.. give a few to your mom. They all smell like you.” You whisper as you reach for your phone and call up his mom for help.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Are you sure you're ready for this?” He asked as he watched you pack some of his shirts and pants for goodwill.

“Yeah..it's been nine months..I need to do this..it's not a lot..but..a start?” You mumble making Minho nod as he helps you empty one draw of his. “Okay..no more.”

“Progress.”

“Progress.” Giving each other a high five Chris chuckles as Minho misses making you laugh echo in return. Something Chris hasn’t heard in months.

Progress it was.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Binnie!” You laughed as Changbin spun you around your living room, his hand tickling your sides as Chris watched, a ping of jealousy hitting him. But he understood, watching you and his friends the past few months, the feeling for Changbin had grown for you and you him.

He wanted you two happy.

So he came up with a plan, his spirit moved through the walls as he grabbed your journal and opened up to your most recent entry. His eyes scan the words.

'I haven’t felt this way about someone since I first met Chris..and it feels wrong but so right at the same time. Changbin had made this feeling come up that I thought I’d never feel again. And it’s scary. I don't know if I can handle losing someone again.’

And then he knocks a picture frame down making a loud crash disrupt the two of you messing around. Changbin stood up straight as he placed you close to the couch and looked down the hall.

“Wait here."he mumbled walking into your bedroom, where he looked around till a picture frame that he glued together from the time you’d throw it across the room in a fit of anger, caught his eyes. It was a picture of Chris smiling, his eyes bright as your lips pressed against his cheek. It made Changbin smile as he saw the man he considered his brother, he hadn’t looked at a photo of him in a year, it felt good. It felt good seeing his face again, even if it would never be the same. It was still Christopher Bang smiling, and he swore he could hear the hum sound he made while you kissed his cheek.

As he moved it back where he remembered where he placed it after he fixed it. His eyes casted down and he saw your entry, and his heart began to speed up.

"She..she feels the same?” He whispered to himself, making Chris smile as he stood next to him and spoke.

“Of course she does, you make her happy.” Changbin jumped as he felt the vibrations of a voice he knew all too well in his head. “Can you hear me?” Chris said, making Changbin look around, and nod slightly.

“Bin? Is everything okay?” You ask walking into your room seeing the frame in his hand, his wide eyes stare at you.

“Uh..yeah.” he chokes as he runs his hand down his face. “Yeah..just this picture fell.” You humm as you move to stand next to him and stare at the two of you, tears gather in your eyes making Chris reach to wipe it away as he did so Changbin. He smiled at his friend as he watched the two of you stare at each other.

“Oh..shit.” you whisper seeing your entry that was open as you move fast to shut it. Already having an idea that he knew and now was ready to leave and never come back.“Did you..”

“Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“I think..I think you should go.” You whisper, making Changbin frown as he moves to rest and hand on your shoulder but you shrugged to get away from him. “Just..just leave..please.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Y/n, please call me back. We need to talk..please.” You listened to your voicemail again, Changbin pleas only made your heart break more.

“Dammit women, call him back!” Chris snaps as he watches you bite your lip. His favorite sweater wrapped around you, making his dead heart thud rapidly against his chest. Then his own voice travels through the air making his eyes widen. “Why do you do this to yourself, baby?”

“Hey baby, I just wanted to call to let you know I’ll be outside of the building waiting for you in five…I know I’m too late to change but I think my office attire will work for the date..I know you’ll look beautiful as usual..hence why you’re probably not answering me! But it's fine,I love you..I’ll see you in a bit.” You play another one, “Baby! Changbin just dropped off food, I swear he’d be a better boyfriend than me like how he is his single! Anyway I just wanted to call and say I love you, and have an amazing day at work!” As you went to play another you phone began to glitch due to Chris being the playfully smart ghost he is, and found a way to only play the part he wanted you to hear. “I love you, but it's fine you like Changbin.” It was choppy and wasn’t even a proper sentence but it made you throw your phone onto the bed as you stare at it. It played again, and again as Chris watched your eyes widen.

“Christopher Bang I swear if this you are coming to haunt my ass I’ll find a way to bring you back and kill you again!” You whisper, making him chuckle, your eyes snap to the empty spot in front of you, where he sat. “I..I finally broke didn’t I..cause I did..I did not just hear that laugh.” You whimper, making him frown as he looks at you. “I’ve missed that laugh.” You breathe out making him giggle, a smile lifting on your cheeks as your phone rings pulling you out of your thoughts.

Binnie is calling.

“Pick it up.” Chris said, making you roll your lip as you hear the very faint vibrations, like he was talking while you rested your head on his chest.

“Hello?” You answer by making Woojin let out a breath as he begins to speak but you cut him off. “I..I like you.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“I haven’t been here since the funeral.” You whisper walking hand and hand with Changbin, followers and balloons in hand as Chris' family walks in front of you. It was his birthday today. You somehow had gotten through the first one, tears and snot but this one..this one was easier in a way. Chris trailed next to the two of you as he watched you closely, the twinkle in your eye was back, Changbin's smile was bigger than ever.

Soon you reached his tombstone, bending down your smile, “Hi baby.” You whisper as Chris sits next to his name, you sit on the grass as his family sits on the bench next to his grave. Changbin sits behind you, over the last few months Chris' family has fully supported you two with the love that was twining the two of you. You place the flowers next to his name and lean against Changbin. “Happy birthday weirdo.” You mumble, making Changbin laugh as Minho arrives, his body moving to sit next to the two of you as he hits a card in his hand. “What’s that Min?” You ask.

“I….just a letter to my brother.” Minho says, making you nod as he places it next to your flowers, Chris smiles at his friends and family.

“What do you think he's doing right now?”

“About to fight Changbin.” Minho says with a smile, making Chris' mother laugh as she shakes her head.

“Idiot.” Changbin said, hitting his shoulder as he laughed and nuzzled his face into your shoulder.

“I..I hope he’s happy wherever he is. I hope he is at peace and that…that he isn’t actually haunting me.” You laugh, making Chris follow as Changbin nods and Minho and his family giggle. “I mean he said, if he ever died he’d haunt me so I’m wondering if it’s happening.” You said wiping the tear that fell down your cheek.

“I wonder if he can finally sit in peace and enjoy the quiet sunsets.” Minho mumbles, making the three of you look at eachother and break out in laughter.

“As if.” Changbin laughs as you place your head into his collarbone.

“I just want him to be happy.”

“I am happy..I think..I think I can leave now.” Chris mumbles to himself, another Ghost at the tree waiting with a smile on his face, freckles covering his cheeks as his fringe falls over his eyes.“I..I can let go now. Baby..baby I ..I love you so much. I know you won't hear this, I know you won’t..but I just..I just love you so much. I’m so happy you’re happy. Thank you for the birthday wishes…I love you guys.” He stood up and walked to the tree, the unknown ghost smiled and clapped him on the back.

“Are you ready for the fun part kid?” He asks, making Chris look at him with wide eyes.

“Will..will I see them again?” His question made the unknown ghost chuckle as he laughed.

“Ah you kids, never truly know what’s out there for us…you’ll see them whenever they visit here. You’ll get like a ring in your head, and any gift they leave for you you’ll be able to pick up and keep it.”

“What’s your name?”

“Felix, died 1976, leukemia at 17….you?”

“Christopher…died in 2020, in a car crash at 23.”

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

If I Stay Part Two (Final) // Luke Patterson

Summary: Life as you knew it shattered and now you’re left picking up the pieces with memories of a boy with hazel eyes in your dreams. A handsome guitarist who easily becomes your unseen number one supporter. If only you could see him again.

Warning: Swearing, mention of injuries, mention of car accident and talk of death.

Words: 2.5k (excluding the song lyrics of “I Won’t Let Go” by Rascal Flatts)

A/N: Second and last part to If I Stay! I really enjoyed this story because I adored Charlie St. Cloud and I really enjoyed If I Stay. The second part to Lost Time will be up soon when I feel confident in the storyline of it.

If I Stay Part One

Masterlist

In a split second for the first time, you felt yourself, poof, away to a sterile white room staring down at the person in the bed. Covered in cuts and bruises of all colours, was you. A broken version of you that made you sick to your stomach. You desperately yearned to go back to being unaware.

“I’m…a ghost?” You breathed looking at your blemish-free hands, a juxtaposition to the arm in a cast. Then in a nauseating thought, the grief faded for fear on your family. Had they survived? You ran out of the room straight to a nurse, “Where are my parents! Where’s my cousin Lou?”

Of course, the nurse was unaware of an upset, emotional teenage girl, a victim of a car crash and in a battle for her life. Realizing no one would answer you spent hours running around the hospital searching for your parents or Lou.

“Lou!” You shouted through the halls unfazed as you ran literally through gurneys and medical equipment even the odd doctor.

At the very last room, you found Lou sitting up in a bed staring silently at the white wall with an official man seated by the side of her bed. He held a clipboard in his hand.

“Lou, how are you feeling?” The man spoke, his white coat embroidered with his profession and labelling him a psychiatrist.

“Fine.”

“You’ve suffered a trau-“

“I’m aware. I was there. I saw a paramedic violently hitting my cousin’s chest, I saw so much blood. I didn’t know there could be that much blood!” Lou snapped glaring the man down, “I saw the brains of the idiot that caused the accident! You don’t know shit! Oh, your little degree magically has you able to understand what I’m going through?!”

“Lou-“

“You wanted me to talk! So, let me talk!” Lou screamed at the man startling you with the anger, “My cousin! My best friend, my SISTER is up in a bed in a coma! A coma because I wanted to go to a stupid resort to ski! It’s my fault! And no one will tell me anything about my aunt and uncle!”

You stumbled back at the pain Lou displayed, it broke your heart, and you couldn’t listen to it anymore.

“Lou, let’s talk about survivor’s gu-“

You fell through the closed door before you could hear anything more from the psychiatrist. You ambled around the floor aimlessly feeling the worst you ever had and to think for two weeks you hadn’t been aware of anything.

“Did you hear?” A nurse spoke from just outside your hospital room. You jogged over reading her name tag of Melissa.

“Heard what?”

“The father of the mountain accident he flatlined in surgery. Doctors got him back, but they’re concerned about brain damage.” Nurse Melissa told her fellow nurse with concern pinching her expression.

“That’s the father of the Y/L/N patient, right?” Nurse Lucy spoke glancing at your hospital door, “I hope they’ll be alright.”

“That poor girl has quite the decision to make. To live or to die. It’s all on her now.” Nurse Melissa replied, “Her mother died-“

“Little unprofessional to gossip about patients in earshot of everyone. Did you know that coma patients can often hear things while unconscious? Or my favourite tip…did you learn about HIPAA?” The doctor on duty asked, staring the two nurses down with a glared. Each nurse shifted on their feet, “Stop gossiping and do your job. I’m sure you can change bedpans or give sponge baths.”

The nurses scattered, leaving you standing in shock at the information given to you. Your mother was dead, your father could be brain dead, and Lou wasn’t coping well. Leaving you in a state of wondering what to do. Should you stay in a world without your parents or let go to join them in heaven. The thought had you collapsing into screams on the floor as everyone went about their work; walking through the hysterical teenager.

A warm hand slid into your own with a comforting squeeze, but all you wanted was to feel your father wrap you in a bear hug. To listen to your mother’s laugh, move in the air with that beautiful musical sound. You want Lou to be okay.

Luke was quiet as he sat the floor, squeezing your hand every once in a while. You slumped into his arms, staring unfeeling at the door that separated your ghostly form from your physical one. Luke poofed you to the Molina garage right on the couch where he held you tight for god knows how long.

“She’s dead.” Your voice cracked tears rolling down your cheeks once more, “My mom is dead.”

“Sh.” Luke cooed pressing his lips against your temple as you curled further into his body. His heart broke for you as the gravity of the situation became crystal clear.

“Hi.” Luke’s eyes met the concerned ones of Julie Molina, a girl that would undoubtedly know how you felt. The thing that connected you being the loss of a mother figure, “I’m Julie.”

Your blank expression lifted to see a girl you had often seen in the halls of Los Feliz High School and vaguely remembered her. She had been performing during the Spirit Rally months ago.

“I’m a friend of Luke, Reggie and Alex. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but you are more than welcome to stay here. You can be in my room or here if you’re more comfortable.” Julie offered knowing exactly how you felt when a year ago, she had been grieving the loss of her mom.

“Thank you.” You replied hoarsely. Exhaustion from sobbing closed your eyes, something that was different to Luke as a ghost was your ability to sleep.

Alex theorized that you could sleep because your body was still alive, whereas the boys had no physical body. They were just ghosts. He and Reggie were in the studio sadly watching as you slipped in a deep unsettled sleep. Luke’s broken eyes met his best friends before he had Alex come over.

“Please stay with her.” Luke whispered, leaving the tall blonde to switch places. Luke disappeared without another word.

“Where’s-“Julie began, but Reggie interrupted her with a sad smile.

“Remember when we took you to Luke’s house? He’ll do the same but with her.” Reggie supplied coming to sit on the floor in front of the couch; his hand grabbing yours in support.

In a medium-sized house with a backyard kept tidy by the neighbours, Luke found his way to your room. His grabbed a few items of clothing and sneakers into a discarded bag before he dropped the bag off in Julie’s bedroom. His next stop was your hospital room. Luke settled himself in the chair beside you watching your chest go up and down from the breathing tube.

“Hi. I don’t know you in this form, but I know your spirit. I’m not good with my words, but I’m going to try. Two weeks ago I met you in a record store, and I fell in love faster than I can tune my guitar and believe me I have the record in the band. I never believed in love at first sight, but I also didn’t believe in ghosts, but here we are!” Luke chortled leaning to place his hand on yours, but it slipped through.

His smile saddened, “As much as I love holding you and kissing your head… I’d much prefer feeling that aching and yearning feel in my gut. If I felt that then it meant you would be alive and well. I’d rather be sad that I can’t feel you than have you die so young.”

Luke saw your eyelids flicker and he hoped it was because you could hear him.

“You have so much to live for. It’s gonna be hard. I can’t deny that, but I need you to stay. Stay alive and fight for me. For Lou.” Luke choked, squeezing his eyes shut grateful when a hand rested on his shoulder. He knew it was Alex.

“Whatever you’re saying. Continue.” Alex whispered, “It’s working, her body is slowly becoming transparent.”

Alex’s words were further proven as Nurse Melissa jogged in surprised as she took vitals, “Well I’ll be damned. You decided to fight.”

Alex and Luke shared a relieved expression as you got even more strong. Together they returned to the garage. Luke was able to press one kiss to your forehead before you flickered once, twice, thrice before you dissipated.

In that hospital room, a beautiful thing occurred. Your eyes opened. Luke swore the birds sang better at the moment.

Recovery was hard. Relearning the little things, you took for granted was frustrating. Lou would hover as if you would disappear and you thought you were going insane. If you were waking up screaming by nightmares of the crash than it was waking confused on dreams that felt like memories.

The small victories helped like when you walked the entire hospital or when you were able to use the toilet and not the bedpan. The best win was being discharged to Lou’s parents and only needing outpatient physical therapy. Six months later, your father was awake and getting better; the loss of your mother still burnt hot and red.

It was on the sixth month anniversary when you walked down an oddly familiar street. Merritt happily trotting on his afternoon walk; Merritt had been an immense help. In your first month of recovery post coma, you met Merritt who would become your service dog.

A sense of déjà vu nudged you as you took in a vintage styled record store you swore you knew before. Continuing on you stop again at a toy story with a dollhouse.

“My cousin had one…for her unborn niece.” The sentence floated in your mind, but you couldn’t put a conversation.

“Caspar?” A male voice recalled in a distant memory of a dream a few days ago. You couldn’t think of anyone who had that voice, and absolutely no way had you ever seen that dollhouse before.

“Just coincidence.” You mumbled scratching Merritt’s head as his wet nose nudged your head before you could worry more. You watched people roaming thankful that you could do that, that you survived.

It was the building on the very end that confused you the most. Your eyes scanned the name proudly announcing itself as a tattoo parlour. A gasp left your lips as a vivid memory popped into your head with a boy that matched that voice you had thought of earlier.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore.You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his faceat the blatant heated gaze.

“No.It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

You were so thankful for Merritt as he nestled up into a dog version of a hug as you felt the crippling anxiety. He was always there and knew about to help, support dogs don’t get enough credit.

When your eyes opened, it is like a dam broke and suddenly you remembered walking this street with three guys. The conversations and even the garage where one had held you in an incredibly vulnerable moment. Three ghosts that helped you when you needed it but didn’t know.

“Luke.” You breathed seeing a form shimmer in the sun as it flickered into a hazy form. Similar to how you did in the garage before going back to your body, he flashed three times. He solidified on the fourth with a great big grin.

“You can see me.” Luke cried, walking closer as he felt on top of the world when your eyes focused on him. He finally felt that yearning to meet your gaze fade away, “I missed you.”

You followed him to the Molina garage.

“I thought we’d never be able to talk again.” Luke sighed, reaching over, and he physically grabbed your hand, “I don’t know if I can touch you because of your former state or because of Julie.”

“Hm?” You questioned sitting cross legged on the bed.

“When I wasn’t watching over you, I was with Julie and the guys.” Luke went into detail about Caleb and the jolts, “We didn’t cross over because it’s not our unfinished business, but the stamps were destroyed when Julie hugged us. We’re sure that just like our instruments are connected to our souls that Julie did as well.”

Your hand brushed Luke’s cheek taking in the silky feeling of his skin, “I thought I was going crazy. I had these dreams of things I didn’t do in reality. My mind just wasn’t ready to remember the beauty of our connection.”

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” Luke chuckled, thinking on how lucky he was to even know you, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You whispered gratefully to intertwine your fingers with Luke’s hand as well. It was like they were made for each regardless of the circumstances that brought you together, “I’m not ready for anything more than friendship, but I do strong feelings for you.”

“Being dead has an advantage. I can wait for eternity, and for you, I would. Just so you know, I have strong feelings for you as well.” Luke beamed scanning your face, taking in the blemishes from the crash. In the time you hadn’t been aware of him following coming out of the coma, he had become acquainted with your injuries.

When those little victories of weight-bearing, walking one step then two and finally that entire hallway Luke had been there unseen cheering you on. When you ‘graduated’ from the inpatient therapy Alex, Reggie and Luke had been there in silent support.

“Do what you need to do, and I’ll be right here for you.” Luke smiled gently, removing his guitar from the case, “Can I play something?”

You nodded in response as started strumming to a new song he had created in the last handful of months.

“It’s like a storm

That cuts a path

It’s breaks your will

It feels like that

You think you’re lost

But your not lost on your own

You’re not alone

I will stand by you

I will help you through

When you’ve done all you can do

If you can’t cope

I will dry your eyes

I will fight your fight

I will hold you tight

And I won’t let go

It hurts my heart

To see you cry

I know it’s dark

This part of life

Oh it finds us all (finds us all)

And we’re too small

To stop the rain

Oh but when it rains

The song touched you so intimately as he sang the last few lines softly keeping eye contact with you.

“…Oh I’m gonna hold you

And I won’t let go

Won’t let you go

No I won’t”

You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek that flushed at the feel of your lips against his skin. His heart fluttered and knew that you were his soulmate and he truly hoped Julie could find someone that could love her like she deserves. Luke��s heart belonged to yours and yours alone and vice versa for you as well.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @merceret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102

#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms #angst #caitsy and ash productions #agentsofsupernaturalmarvel

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Text

how to mend a broken heart: step one - rafe cameron

Breaking Rafe Cameron’s bones didn’t work, but your plan to break his heart did. You falling for him too and having your heart shatter as collateral was an unexpected side effect. Ever the schemer, JJ’s come up with a new five step plan to mend what was broken.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 2.5k

a/n: and here’s step one, listen to the part two playlist on the series masterlist for maximum effect :). please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

“This is ridiculous, Pope,” you pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against him on John B’s sofa. You were pointedly ignoring JJ, equal parts furious for his part in your heartbreak and frustrated that he had tried to kiss you. The you of only a few months ago would have probably died for JJ to confess, the thought of pressing your lips together used to make you dizzy. Now, you were angry, and annoyed, and sad, and you wanted nothing more than to return to under the comforter where you had made your home for the past week as you cried.

“I have to agree,” Kie piped up from her spot at the kitchen table, “two weeks ago we were plotting to break his heart and now you want us to believe you’re interested in fixing things?”

“Look,” JJ started, screwing his eyes closed for a split second to gather his thoughts, “I don’t give a flying fuck about Rafe Cameron, but I care about you, y/n. You’re my best friend and I hate how the last plan panned out, but I want to make it up to you.” His eyes were focused on you, ignoring the other pogues staring at him.

Your lip wobbled as you avoided his stare, “You made it pretty clear how you felt about me on that beach, JJ.”

JJ sucked in a deep breath, looking at Pope for some silent advice but his friend gave him a doubtful look. He glanced at you again, noting your legs curling into your chest and how your eyes were raw and puffed. He hated that it was his fault that you were like this. “y/n,” JJ sighed, he closed the space between your bodies, kneeling down on the floor in front of you and gathering your hands in his larger ones, “You know me, you know me more than anyone in this room. You know I’m a little bit stupid, that I don’t think everything through, that I’m a liability sometimes..”

“And the rest,” Kie chimed in, but closed her lips when JJ shot an annoyed glare in her direction.

“You’re not stupid,” slipped out before you could stop it, years of reassuring the volatile blond before you having conditioned you to respond, “but you hurt me, and then you used my feelings for you against me.”

“That’s not-” he sighed, stopping himself before he could run his mouth again, knowing that of all times, you would not be impressed with his impatience. He looked around at your friends again, “Look, we can talk about that night in more detail later, just know that I’ve actually thought this thing through and I want to help you. Even Pope thinks it’s not a terrible idea.”

You turned to look at Pope sitting beside you, expecting him to deny JJ’s claim, but Pope nodded slightly in acknowledgement, causing you to sigh. “Alright, hit me.”

JJ smiled, crooked teeth on display, before letting go of your hands to get up and cross over to the forgotten chalkboard, spinning it around to reveal his five-step plan to mend your broken heart. You rolled your eyes at the childish doodles around the list, including but not limited to several broken hearts, one of which had a bandaid closing the gap between the two halves. You scanned the five steps he outlined, confused by what was written. You were about to question the last step, when he dramatically stepped forward, holding his arms wide open.

“Step one: tell the truth, see it through.”

You were standing outside on the back porch, leaning against the railing like you had so many weeks ago when the first plan had begun. JJ was leaning on the railing beside you, and the silence was starting to drive you mad.

“So,” you stated simply, eyes scanning the horizon. There was a light breeze that rustled your hair around your shoulders and JJ found himself looking at your side profile as you looked out.

“So,” he repeated uselessly, fidgeting with his hands.

“You said we could talk about that night in detail later, well it’s later and you need to start talking,” you told him.

He sighed, uncomfortably shifting his weight from his left foot to his right and back, “I didn’t tell you I love you just because of what we have, i-it’s different. You read all those shitty online stories about best friends becoming lovers and it comes with so much complications-”

“And I’m not worth that?” you ask, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” JJ spluttered out, “My mom left, my dad’s… well you know about that, and fuck, y/n, you’re all I have left. If it didn’t work out and I lost you…”

“Well, look how that turned out,” you snapped, “you nearly lost me anyway.”

“Nearly?” He asked, the slight lilt of hope shining through his voice.

You looked up, eyes rolled to the sky, “you’re my best friend, J, and I don’t want to lose you anymore than you want to lose me.” A smile tugged at the corner of JJ’s lips, but you raised your hand to stop him from grinning, “I’m not saying I forgive you for what you did, what I’m saying is that I’m not going to let Rafe Cameron come between us, no matter how I feel about him.”

“Okay…” JJ trailed off.

“And that goes both ways. If we’re doing this, you can’t argue with me over my feelings for him anymore. I’m telling you now, I love Rafe a-and if this works, I’m going to be with him.”

JJ tried to hide the grimace that graced his face but he failed miserably, making you groan in annoyance. “No, y/n, I promise. I’ll try, I’ll try my god damn hardest if it means I still have you in my life because I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in it.”

“You’d probably be stuck in jail.” You giggled, and JJ lit up at the sound. He hadn’t heard you laugh in at least a week, if not longer and it filled the hole in his chest a little.

“Probably,” he shrugged, offering his hand to you with the intention of starting your secret handshake, but you pulled on his arm and pulled him in for a brief hug.

“I haven’t forgiven you yet,” you told him sternly as you pulled away, poking his chest, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

“Noted.”

Finding Rafe was easy.

It was nearing sundown and you had a strong feeling you knew exactly where he would be. There was something soothing, calming, about watching the sun set over the cliffedge where he had confided in you about his mom. You spotted him when you pulled up, sitting on the hood of his truck. The fading sunlight cast a glow against his face that had you shielding your eyes as you approached. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him for the first time in a week. You had gone from seeing him every day, wrapped in his arms to nothing, not even a cursory text or notification.

Getting Rafe to hear you out was harder.

The utter look of betrayal that mirrored his expression only a week ago greeted you when he turned around. You felt your heart clench at the knowledge that your actions were responsible for such loathing in his eyes. That you had been the one to hurt him and cause him pain. You hadn’t seen him look this devastated since that day that you had sat on his lap and held his face in your hands as he shared the most traumatic event of his life with you. Without realizing, your eyes had filled with tears, the tip of your nose burning at the sensation.

“What are you doing here?” he asked harshly, “I thought I told you to never speak to me again.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head up to keep the tears from spilling, “I know, I just. I wanted to tell you the truth, all of it.” You want to explain to him, really explain to him, until he understands that while it had started out with poor intentions you had really fallen in love with him. That he owned your entire heart, held it in his hands, and controlled its fate.

“JJ painted a pretty accurate portrait of it all, I think.” He replied, tone still unpleasant. Your stomach dropped, you knew he would be upset and angry, but a small part of you had hoped he would be open to listening to you.

“Just hear me out, please listen to me. You can tell me to fuck off after I’m done, and I’ll leave you alone.” You say, completely genuine. If he really wanted nothing to do with you, you would respect that. It would hurt like hell, but you would understand. You could only imagine if the roles had been reversed, if Topper or Kelce had cornered you and told you the entire thing had just been some bet to break your heart.

When Rafe didn’t reply, you slowly closed the gap between you, lifting yourself up onto his truck, you felt him stiffen beside you and let out an exhale of annoyance. “You know what, y/n? I can’t even look at you right now.”

“I-I understand that, Rafe, but this week has been one of, if not, the worst week of my life-”

Rafe scoffed, cutting you off, and his hands balled into fists on his lap. “You don’t have the right to shove that in my face, I fell in love with a girl that was playing me. I thought you were different but you’re exactly like those other pogues. You’re no better than who you thought I was.” You feel the white hot guilt spread across your body uncomfortably as you consider his words. When this had all started, you never thought you would succeed at actually breaking his heart, didn’t really even consider that he had one. More importantly, you never thought you would succeed at crushing your own heart in the process.

“What I did, what we did as a group, was wrong and I know that now but I got so caught up in the whole island feud that I wasn’t thinking right,” you sighed, “I never thought I’d get you to fall in love with me, I thought it was something I’d do for a week and then give up, but-”

“But you succeeded.” He states simply, arms crossed as he cuts off your rambling.

“But I fell in love with you, Rafe. The whole thing backfired, and I ended up breaking my own heart in the process.” You can hear the desperation taking over your tone of voice, recognizing his closed off body language as an indication that this conversation was about to be over before it had really begun.

“That’s really great, y/n, thanks for the insight.” Rafe retorted, rolling his eyes and jumping from the bonnet. His tone was raw and hateful, and it felt like a knife pushing through your chest as he walked away from you, again.

You followed him, protesting for him to stop but he wasn’t listening. He opened the driver’s door, and you mustered up the courage to slam it shut with all your force, making him swing his head to look at you bewildered. Tears were brimming in the corner of his eyes, his chest heaving heavily with every breath he took. “What more do you want from me, y/n? I listened, I processed, and the only thing I got from that was that you didn’t even apologize for what you did!”

Watching the tears slide down his cheeks made you speechless, you did truly break his heart. “I-I thought…” You mumbled, and he shook his head in disappointment.

“I thought you were different, you did a great job playing someone you’re not.” He’s looking at you and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time and doesn’t like what is in front of him. You shrink a little under his heated gaze, so similar to that first night you spent together but yet millions of miles of distance between then and now.

“Rafe, you don’t understand. When I was with you, that was the real me. Yo-you fell in love with me,” you whispered, taking a step closer to him and reaching for his hand but he pulled it away. “Just know, that every moment we spent together, I fell deeper in love with you.”

Rafe Cameron has never been loved before. No one has ever told him how much they loved him for who he was. His own family found it an effort to love him, and looking at you right now, declaring your love for him with tears streaming down your cheeks, he couldn’t help but think that maybe not being loved was a good thing. You never had to deal with the heartache and unexpected complications that came to giving yourself to someone. The only time he experienced true love was when you were lying underneath him, the softest smile on your face and you kissed the palm of his hand, in that moment, he felt on top of the world. But his world came shattering down when JJ Maybank found him that day. He wasn’t sure if he could survive another heartbreak.

“Have a good life, y/l/n,” he muttered without sparing you another glance, successfully navigating his way into the driver side of his vehicle as you stood uselessly beside it, tears falling from your eyes.

You stood there watching as he drove away, not moving from your spot until the truck had turned the corner, disappearing from your sight entirely. Rubbing away at your eyes and at the tear tracks on your cheeks, you were despondent at the prospect of Rafe Cameron never forgiving you and having walked out of your life for good this time. Fuck this plan, fuck the other plan, you thought angrily to yourself, walking back to your car. And especially fuck JJ Maybank, as you drove away from the cliffside that had meant so much to you. You found yourself wishing, not for the first time and likely not for the last time, that you had listened to Pope in the first place and never gone through with the stupid bet in the first place. Sure you would have never known Rafe’s love, but you also would have never known this heartbreak.

htbah taglist (link in the series masterlist!!):

@solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @nqbmf @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @mozz-are-lla @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @httpstarkey @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx @trinnwazheree @stargazingstarkey @obx-saltlife @juliarose21 @hyperactive2411 @mcarignan @feyrecauldron-blessed @sportygal55 @popcrone818 @wtfkie @raekenliar @letsgotothehop @walkingtothesun @outerbanksbro @summerkaulitz @glux64 @itslilithsstuff @kaitieskidmore1 @mycowatemyhw @poguepunk @routledgebaby @teenwolfobx @pancakefancake @princessnnylzays @onlygetaway @hoodpankow @shawnswife2004 @glittercoveredsouls @fangirlvoice

rodeo rafe babies who said they were interested:

@royalmerchant @outerbankslut @honeyycheek @jellyfishbeansontoast @ilovejjmaybank @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @https-luna @butgilinsky @rae131415

diverdcwn everything taglist:

@velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @hoodpankow @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @euphoricheyward @anxietyandtacos @diverrdown @stargazingstarkey @rafej-cambanks @stfukie

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron series #freyby writes #diverdcwn writes #htmabh

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yan-twst · 4 years

Note

would you do a scenario with leona, his s/o, and cheka just chilling in his room when cheka's just like, "leona oji-tan why don't you marry y/n so we can be a real family?" and leona, being smug as he is, just rolls with it?

warnings: none

they / them darling

Leona had to admit Farena had some nerve to keep sending Cheka over on the weekends to NRC, especially since the second-born was quite vocal on his dislike of the practice. However, Farena was stubborn as always, turning a blind eye to his brother’s complaints and insisting on sending his son over to bond with his uncle; which led to the usual scenario of Leona, his darling, and Cheka all relaxing in his room.

“Ojitan, can we go swim in the lounge?” asked Cheka, happily bouncing on the bed as Leona tried his best not to snap at the little brat.

“It’s a bit late, Cheka... You might catch a cold if you swim now. We wouldn’t want your mother to get mad...” Leona’s darling said, trying to get the young lion to settle down. The weather in Savanaclaw may have been controlled by magic, but it was still somewhat linked to a real Savannah; the nights became chilly, and the last thing Leona or his darling wanted was Leona’s sister-in-law calling to ask why the crown prince had caught a cold.

“Boo...” the young lion puffed his cheeks out, then crossed his arms. “Then can we at least play?”

“Don’t be too loud. I’m trying to sleep.” warned Leona as Cheka bounced off the bed.

“Ok, ok! Let’s play house!” cheered Cheka. “Hmm... Ojitan has to be the dad!”

“Oi, you already have a dad, brat. Want me to send you back to him?” said Leona, tail swishing. He wanted to sleep, damnit- perhaps even cuddle his darling, but there was nothing he could do as long as the tiny menace called his nephew was here.

“Eh, no! I wanna play with ojitan and my friend!” he said, arms crossed. Cheka had taken to referring to Leona’s darling as his friend; granted, the little lion was so heavily guarded in his day-to-day life, that it wouldn’t be odd if he truly did see the older NRC student as a friend. “Um, can we still play house...? If Ojitan doesn’t wanna be the dad, then... I’m the dad! And I’m married to Ojitan’s partner! And, and, Ojitan is the kid!”

“Pff-” Leona’s darling held back a laugh at how quickly Leona shot up from his resting position at Cheka’s organization to play house; it seemed that Leona wasn’t pleased with being designated to be the kid, even less with Cheka deciding he’d play the role of his darling’s husband.

“Huh? No way. We aren’t playing house.” growled the lion, brows furrowed.

“That’s so boring, Ojitan!” whined Cheka, crossing his arms, but seemingly dropping the idea. Leona’s darling sighed- Leona had exhausted all of his “decent uncle” energy already, and it seemed like the lion really wasn’t up to deal with Cheka’s antics now. “... Leona ojitan, why don’t you and your partner get married for real? That way we wouldn’t even have to play house, cuz you’d be a family!”

“Gh- that’s-!” Leona’s darling choked on air, coughing a few times in a poor attempt to come up with a response to the young lion. That brat-

“Oh?” Leona quickly noticed his darling’s shock, and smirked. Well, it wasn’t as if they’d never mentioned marriage before- being from a royal family, Leona was expected to marry at some point, and he’d let his darling know- of course, they’d both need to graduate first, and then present them to the people of his kingdom (although... Leona bitterly doubted many would care about the second prince’s marriage); however, it seemed like the idea of marriage being brought up by someone else had flustered his darling... And if Leona liked one thing, it was to tease his beloved. “Well, Cheka does have a point, doesn’t he?”

“Wh- I, um-” Leona’s darling was bright red, as Cheka peered at his uncle and his darling with big, curious eyes, perhaps not understanding the conundrum he’d caused.

“Yes!! I wanna scatter the flowers in Ojitan’s wedding! And, and- uncle Ruggie can bring the rings!” Cheka clapped excitedly. Ruggie would probably run off with the rings, was something Leona thought- but it was currently teasing his darling time, not teasing Ruggie time. “Pleaase! I wanna throw the flowers!”

“I- yes, of course, but, um-” Leona’s darling was all over the place. How to not make Cheka sad in this situation but also make him understand a marriage wouldn’t be happening until a couple of years was a strategy they did not know how to manage.

“Oh, so you agree? Mhm, that’s nice, I also think Ruggie would make an interesting ring carrier.” said Leona, slinging an arm around his beet-red darling’s shoulder. “I’d be more interested to see what sort of attire you’d wear, though... It’d be a traditional Afterglow Savannah wedding, wouldn’t it? Hm, perhaps I’d have to walk you through the traditions... That’d be quite a pain, though...”

“Ojitan has to be nice to his future spouse!!” said Cheka, jumping in to defend Leona’s darling. “Dad says married couples always have to be nice to each other and help each other! That’s why he always listens to mom”

“Yeah kid your dad says a lot of bullshit he doesn’t mean. The old man is probably just scared to disagree with his wife.” Leona said under his breath, so low his darling barely caught the bitter words. He quickly shook off the dark thoughts and went back to look at his darling with a smirk and playful narrowed eyes. “Well then! Do you think the ceremony would be better at day, or at night?”

“I- Leona, you can’t just- ask that now-!” his darling said, eyes flicking from Cheka to their boyfriend. “I- um... Evening...? Wait, that’s not- that’s not the main issue here-”

The topic had been enough to get Cheka fired up, though. The little lion was practically jumping all around the room, raving about how “cool” his ojitan’s wedding would be, and that he’d be the best flower boy ever- from the way he spoke, it was clear he hadn’t actually seen any weddings, and all his knowledge probably came from his parents’ wedding pictures and stories they’d tell him of their wedding. Leona chuckled, mildly entertained, then turned to look at his still-flustered darling.

“Hey,” he said softly into their ear, arm still around their shoulder. “I’m just messing around with Cheka, don’t think I’m gonna pressure you into a wedding so quickly. I know we both have to graduate, and being thrown into the royal family is messier than you’d think.”

“However... I’ll keep in mind you’d prefer an evening wedding- you know, for when the day comes when we do get married.” he said with a chuckle, pressing a little kiss to their cheek.

The peace of the moment was instantly shattered by Cheka’s delighted “Ojitan just kissed his future spouse!!” that surely resounded through the whole dorm.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #Anonymous

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justanotherblonde23 · 3 years

Text

You Can’t Please Everyone - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: Welcome to Part 3 of my Marcus Moreno and Doctor Iris Moreno one shot series! This wasn’t originally the one I planned on releasing today, but I was going through it last night and @autumnleaves1991-blog suggested that I write my feelings out and let it all pour into my writing. She was right, I felt so much better afterwards. Still no descriptions for what Dr. Moreno looks like, I want you to feel like you can see yourself as her <3 Thank you all for your love and encouragement, I really appreciate it.

Warnings: angst, crying, parental problems, hurt/comfort, pregnancy mentions, language

Let me know what you think, what you’d like me to write next, want to be on a tag list for this series, etc. I want to interact with you all!

Iris opened the front door, trying her best to be quiet; she didn’t want to wake the kids. If Marcus got the timing right, their girls should have just finished their bedtime routine and have settled in for the night. She took her jacket off, hanging it up in the coat closet. All she wanted was to grab a glass of wine and curl up and have a good cry. Unfortunately, being pregnant meant no alcohol, so she would soldier through with a good cry in the shower, maybe.

Her heels clacked on the stairs. She went slowly, her heart and mind weary. Both girls had their doors open a crack, the universal sign that they wanted kisses and to be tucked in by momma, too, even if she came home a bit late. The drowsy kisses and ‘I love yous’ filled her with joy, covering the ache just a little. She knew that no matter what went wrong throughout the day, she would always be coming home to two precious little girls that loved her dearly. At this point, she couldn’t even imagine life without them.

Marcus was right where she expected him to be, in bed curled up with a good book. It still blew her away every time she stopped and realized that he was hers, and she was his. Being his wife, it was bliss in every sense of the word. She hadn’t expected him to propose; how could she when his last marriage ended the way it did? Iris would have been happy to be with him forever in any way that he’d have her, but she had to admit that she had wanted to be his wife. She had changed her name as fast as humanly possible, for the thought of being Dr. Moreno filled her with pride. He had suggested keeping her last name or maybe hyphenating it after he proposed. He knew how hard she had worked to make that name worth something, and he didn’t want to take that away from her. She had appreciated the gesture, but she insisted that her work was her own, no matter her last name. She wanted to share everything with Marcus Moreno, including his last name.

The man in question looked up, giving her one of his earth-shattering smiles, the one that made her feel as if she was the center of his universe. How could she not melt when his soft brown eyes held her gaze, baring his soul to her? She loved this beautiful man with every breath she took.

He frowned when he noticed her eyes had welled with tears, leaving black mascara tracks down her cheeks. Silently, he stood up, gently unzipping her dress for her and helping her into a shirt of his that she loved to wear to bed. He knew that she would talk to him when she was ready. He would wait her out; it was better not to press her. Marcus led her into the bathroom, sitting her up on the counter while he cleaned her face with a warm washcloth and makeup remover. With each tender swipe of the washcloth, more tears fell. He could feel her shaking underneath him, the silent sobs giving way to heaving gasps.

Once he finished washing her face, he cradled her in his arms, carrying her back to their bed. He settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips, arms wound around his neck, face tucked in next to his own. The closer he could get to her, the better he knew she’d be able to feel. His hand snaked under the shirt, rubbing soothing circles on her back, fingers pressing patterns into her spine. He whispered words of comfort in his wife’s ear, willing her to hear what he was saying. Darling, I love you. I’m here for you; you’re not alone. Let it all out, baby. It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep it all stuffed inside; just cry it out. Missy loves you, Jules loves you, I love you. He went on and on, pouring his love and adoration into her. Eventually, her tears subsided, and she was ready to talk. She pulled back a bit so that she could look into those kind eyes of his that never judged her or made her feel less than.

“Dinner with my dad was a disaster, Marcus, it was horrible. I should’ve known it would be bad, but I was hoping that this time might be different.”

He nodded sympathetically; her relationship with her father was complicated. That man was manipulative, two-faced, selfish, and frankly a terrible parent. He had never approved of their relationship, blatantly refusing to even come to their wedding, insisting that they’d be getting a divorce at some point anyway. No matter how happy they were together, that man was always finding something to nitpick. If it wasn’t the age gap, it was the fact that Iris had stepped up and filled the spot of mother that the girls had so desperately needed. He hated their jobs, their house, the fact that they were individuals with enhanced abilities. Marcus couldn’t think of a situation where he had ever said anything positive about, well, anything.

Despite all of this, he knew that Iris still loved him, still cared about him, and desperately wanted some type of relationship with him. She was the kindest person that Marcus had ever met. Her passion for people, her ability to truly empathize with others and try to help them heal was inspiring. He had never seen anything like it. He had seen it firsthand with his girls. She poured every ounce of love and devotion into them, treating them as if she had given birth to them herself. She said time and again that there was no difference to her. They were her girls just as much as they were his, and she loved them as such. That love and care extended to her father, too, no matter how many times he hurt her.

“What did he do, honey?” he was hesitant to ask. Marcus knew that he would get mad at her father and have to rein himself in. He hated to see his wife hurting like this, and it made his blood boil. No one should cause her this much turmoil, especially someone that was her parent.

“The whole thing was just a mess from the start. Dad was giving the poor waitress a hard time the second she came to the table. You know when he acts like he’s funny, but actually, he’s just rude? He was playing that game. I tried to talk him off the ledge and get him to bring it back in a bit. You should’ve seen her face, Marcus. She was petrified. Every time she came to the table, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. I tried to make sure that I was as nice to her as humanly possible to make up for him. Jesus Marcus, he should know better. I bartended to help mom with money when she was sick, for goodness sake. I was just like that poor girl all through med school and up until I got hired at Heroics HQ. You’d think he’d be willing to consider that.”

He shook his head, placing a kiss on her forehead, not interrupting her as she spoke. He knew that Iris needed to get it all out before he chimed in.

“Then he realized that I didn’t order any wine and commented on that, and oh fuck Marcus; it just came out. I just blurted out that I wasn’t drinking because we’re having a baby. He fucking laughed at me, told me not to joke about shit like that. When he figured out that I was serious, he was furious. He told me that I made a mistake, that this baby would just tie me down. He told me that this was a sign that it was time to give up my career and commit to being a mother. I just- I can’t believe everything he said. He went on and on about how I was finally having a real kid of my own as if Missy and Jules aren’t mine, and how it was unfortunate that this baby was yours. I thought that maybe he’d be happy that he’d be excited, but it was a shit show. He didn’t ask how far along I was or anything. I don’t know why I even do this anymore, why I even hope for his approval. It’s a battle I’m never going to win, so why even try? And fuck, these pregnancy hormones are making me so goddamn emotional. I couldn’t even make it through the main course. I made up a work emergency and left. I’m hurting, I’m fucking starving, and I just want to curl up and call it a night.”

There was silence for a few moments, Iris once again hiding her face in the crook of Marcus’ shoulder. He wished he could physically take the pain away, that he could take her heart in his hands and cradle it to his chest, protecting it from everything that threatened to break it. It killed him to see her like this, and it wasn’t fair; she didn’t deserve this. It didn’t help that at 12 weeks, her pregnancy was beginning to take a toll on her. It was always tricky for enhanced individuals to carry a child, even more so when the child was also enhanced. It just made everything a bit more complicated. He hadn’t seen it up close himself before. His ex hadn’t had powers. To see Iris suffering and struggling with harsher than average symptoms tore at his heartstrings. They were both so excited to have this little one; it would just be a bit more challenging.

“Baby, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna grab a few things, get comfy okay?”

Marcus hated untangling himself from her, but he knew what might make her feel a bit better. She let out a noncommittal grunt, letting him know that she heard him. He quickly went down to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. He put everything on a tray, double-checking that he had what he needed before going back up to the bedroom. He set the tray on the bed, earning a grin from his darling wife.

“Okay, so you said you were hungry; I thought I’d grab the things you’ve been craving recently. I’ve got a bowl of butter pecan ice cream with strawberry sauce, the whipped cream from a can, and crumbled up potato chips with a side of frozen Reese’s peanut butter cups and that guava juice you started liking last week. Oh, and a grilled cheese that I made earlier and put in the fridge. I know you like them cold right now. I’m not gonna question it. I’m sorry you didn’t even get to eat anything when you went for dinner, but this might be even better.”

He settled into bed next to Iris, putting the tray on her lap. The giggle of delight that left her mouth made him feel warm inside. He watched her dig into the ice cream, telling him about the new developments that she was working on for his katanas, how she wanted to adjust the grips a certain way, and asking for his input. There she was, his wife was crawling back out of the pain and the hurt. He adored her enthusiasm for science and invention. She always had some idea or other to improve his weaponry and armor. He could listen to her passionately explaining her thoughts and ideas for the rest of his life, and he’d never get bored.

By the time she finished, the disaster of a dinner had been wholly forgotten. Marcus got up, placing the tray on the dresser. He’d deal with it in the morning. They spent another hour talking, cuddling, and holding each other tightly. After a while, he noticed that Iris began to nod off, her eyelids struggling to stay open. He adjusted their position so that they were lying down, and his love was wrapped securely in his arms. She fell into sweet slumber to the sound of Marcus murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and his hand rubbing her tummy, holding her and their baby close. She may not be able to please everyone, but she had Marcus, their two girls, and this baby. In the end, that was everything. It was all she needed.

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#marcus moreno #we can be heroes #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x fem!reader #pedro pascal #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno story

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klaus-is-the-real-number-1 · 4 years

Text

The House of the Rising Sun (Number 5 x reader)

A/N: This is an unfinished fic ive had in my drafts for well over a year,, enjoy? based of s1

Crime rates had never been higher, gangs ravaging the city any opportunity they got dealing class A narcotics and carrying out random acts of violence. No one leaves their houses at night, as soon as the sun sets the streets would empty and complete anomie would take place. One ‘gang’ were set above the rest, they were practically the equivalent of the mafia, all dressed in a smartly pressed uniform and operating throughout the entire city, the Umbrella Academy. Rumour has it they all had ‘powers’ of some sort, making them the most powerful gang, even if they didn’t have their ‘powers’ they would still be in the lead having very high levels of violence between them.

The Umbrella Academy all had nicknames, a mere murmur of the said names would send people running like scared dogs, tails between their legs. The most feared of the Umbrella Academy was The Boy, just as him name suggested he was the one no one knew anything about, yes there was rumours but never any solid facts. The Boy had apparently travelled to the future, has a kill count of hundreds and can appear in a flash of blue from thin air, but these are just mad rumours that drift round town.

Dusk set upon the city but you didn’t notice, too busy finishing bouquets in your shop. You ran a small florists on the outskirts of the town, you never caused any trouble and had never stayed late until today. You glanced out the window and gasped, looking at the pitch black sky, feeling your heart rate increase at the thought of walking four blocks in the gang ridden town. As quickly as you could you close the shop, making sure the doors were locked and the solid metal shutters were firmly shut. You leave by the back door, locking it and closing the shutter yet again, not leaving your small life source of a shop to the vengeance of raging gangs who carry out pointless crimes.

Shadows hid your small frame as you quickly walked home, defenceless, hoping to miss anyone out at the late hours of the night. Unfortunately, luck was not playing on your side, from the shadows you could make out a group of lads making their way threateningly down the street. All you could do is pray that you wouldn’t get spotted in the dark shadows.

“Well what do we have here?” You quickened your pace somehow thinking that you could move away from them but you were wrong. You were surrounded like you were feeding bread to a flock of seagulls, if the seagulls were feral and had rabies it would mirror how afraid you were at that moment.

“Sorry!” Is all you were able to squeak out as you were roughly pulled out from the safeness of the dark into the centre of the group, your bag getting ripped off your back. Your frozen, watching them go through the contents of your bad, dumping out all your papers and pens that you had in your bag until finally finding your purse. “Please don’t it’s all I have.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you were on the ground, a numbing pain shooting through the side of your head, you could see heavy droplets of blood hit the floor as your nose bled from the impact. Another sharp impact landed against your ribs as a sob wracked through your shaking body, unable to comprehend how quickly the events had escalated, all you could do now is wait for the next impact but it never came.

“Hey, assholes!” The voice was crisp and sharp, dripping with confidence and authority. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Coins fell to the floor as the gang dropped your bag and your purse and ran, you couldn’t even look up, the thought of someone more threatening than an entire group sent shivers down your hurt body. You didn’t hear footsteps, all you saw from your peripheral vision a blue light and a dark figure. The rustling sound of papers cut through the silent street and the harsh zip of your bag startled you.

“You need to see someone about that.” You look up and were met with none other than The Boy, the most questioned of the Umbrella Academy, dressed in a smart uniform, domino mask securely covering his identity. His fingertips lightly brushed the side of your head, causing you to flinch away. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He said unconvincingly, emotions hidden by the mask.

He held your now packed bag out to you, you lifted yourself off the floor, wincing as you did so. You cautiously took your bag from The Boys hand, holding it loosely in your hand. Taking a step, you stumble, your side collapsing in on it’s self, The Boy caught you, putting his arm around your waist to steady you.

“Here, let me help you home, where do you live?” In your shattered state you told him, and in a blink of blue you were at your door. You messily fumble with your keys as your shaking hands roughly push your door open, dropping your bag into your small apartment.

“Thank you.” The mask clad boy stood before you, hands in his shorts pockets.

“It’s okay,” You couldn’t see his eyes but you knew they were scanning over your body. “Make sure to get your injuries checked over, they got you pretty hard y/n.” Then he was gone.

You lock your door and double check your windows, securing them before limping over to your bathroom, looking at your beaten form in the mirror. Red marks spread over your face and the side of your body, bruising already starting to form, blood stained your white patterned shirt with a now ruined name tag, the thought of work taking over your thoughts, well not all of your thoughts. The Boy was also on your thoughts, his cold emotionless face, half covered by a domino mask, contrasted with the softness of his words, the caring nature of his touch. He’s a crime lord, a dangerous man, yet he showed kindness to you.

Five was angry, he was angry with himself that he didn’t get there quick enough to stop them hurting y/n. She was the only pure thing left in the city and they went for her, defenceless. Five would’ve killed them on the spot if he didn’t want to hurt y/n any more than she already was. He wasn’t actively going out of his way to find y/n, she was sunshine in a grey and broken world.

“Five,” He hadn’t even finished teleporting into his room before Luther started speaking. “We’re not meant to be out on the streets. What were you doing?” Luther’s big frame towered over Five, attempting to threaten him.

“I was out doing what were meant to be doing, keeping our authority through the streets. Haven’t you heard that they’ve been saying we’re weak.” Five snarled at his brother prompting Luther to sigh then walk out. It wasn’t always like this, they could’ve been heroes but Mr Hargreeves only saw the darkness and the powers within them, he made them the best at being the worst and for some it was the end of the line.

An aching agony wracked through your fragile body as your head pounded like a thousand drummers sounding the beating retreat. You hoped a shower would ease any of the pain, warm water running over all of your bruises, the side of your body looking like a black and blue watercolour along your ribs. Your work clothes were just casual, simple, it was one of the upsides of owning your own business. However, you did have an apron, it had different flowers embroidered on it and a simple name tag. A name tag now covered in blood.

Quiet music softly played in the background of your flower shop, you swept the floor in time to the music, swaying your hips as you did so. Heading back to the storage room, you heard the bell to the shop chime, a welcoming noise.

“Hey, how can I help?” The man seemed startled, looking up at the arrangement of bouquets and flashing a quick smile.

“I’d like some flowers for my mom,” He almost hesitated with his words, a soft peach colour present on his cheeks. “I saw your shop yesterday and couldn’t remember the last time anyone had got her any.”

“Awe, that’s super sweet, have any of the bouquets caught your fancy or does she have a flower preference?” The boy in front of you was about the same age as you, maybe older, he had sharp features but they were even out by the softness of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, searching the deepest parts of his brain. “Lilies, she likes lilies.” You smile at his words before looking round your small, compacted shop for any pre-made bouquets.

“We don’t have any made up right now but if you come back,” You look at the clock, thinking about a convenient time for him to come back. “In about 2 hours I’ll have one made up for you?” You give him a sweet smile as he nods. “Great! If you want you can leave your name and number so I can text you when its done.”

You watch him messily write his details on a post it note. Peeling it off the block, you stick it to your notice board, looking at his name as you did so. Five. “I’ll send you a text once your bouquets done!”

“Ok, thank you,” He hesitated as he strained to read your name tag. “Y/n.”

“No problem, Five.” You see a small smile break out on his face as he left the shop. The rest of your day dragged as a slow drip of customers drifted in and out of the shop. You made a large bouquet of different types of lilies for Five, taking extra care to arrange them in the prettiest way you could, making it extra special for his mom.

You admire your handy work, loving when you get special orders being able to be as creative as you want. You send a text to Five saying that he can drop in any time from now until closing to pick them up, you get an almost instant response sending his thanks.

Shouting echoed down the street, sharp crashing of glass cutting through the air. Smoke drifted like ghosts down the street as screams echoed down the road of people coughing, spluttering grasping for breath. Peering out your shop window you saw them again, the lads from the night before, petrol bombs in hand ready to throw. You had to consider you options, quick, close the shutters quickly and run out the back or just run out and risk that they recognise you.

Quickly, you pulled the shutters down as you hear the unruly lads shouting get louder, you think your safe but then you remember the window upstairs, wide open, vulnerable. Taking two steps at a time but you were halfway to the window and heard a ‘get the flower shop’.

A flame like a rabid hare shot past you, shattering on the ground followed by another, hitting the window dead on surrounding you in flame, no escape in a smoke filling room. Smoke licked the walls as smoke danced in your lungs, making you feel lightheaded, blurring you vision. The floor burnt as you dropped to your knees, trying to take in any remaining oxygen, begging for your eyes not to close.

As Five walked back to the flower shop only to be met with shouting, screaming and sirens, noticing the smoke in the air he quickened his pace, only to break out into a sprint at the sight of the small flower shop in flames. He couldn’t see y/n out in the street in front of the shop, in a blind panic he blipped into the shop, looking round and seeing smoke pouring down the stairs, dread filling his body. In a blink of an eye he was in the burning room, finding y/n unconscious on the floor, he grabbed her body and as quickly as he could in the haze of the smoke.

He flashed to the academy, roughly shaking y/n shoulder. “Y/n,” He checked she was still breathing. “y/n please. Wake up. Mom!” Grace came round the corner, watching her son frantically shake an unconscious body.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Grace’s calming voice did nothing to sooth the panicking boy, she looked at the girls flame licked skin. “Take her to the medical room, Five.” Without another word Five had flashed upstairs, Grace beginning jogging up the stairs wrapping her medical apron around her as she did.

You gasp awake, proceeding to cough up whatever smoke settled in your lungs. You didn’t recognise the room around you, it didn’t look like any normal hospital, or even a hospital at all. Panicking at the foreign surroundings you drag yourself out of the bed, body screaming out at the heat in your arms and palms from the fire, the fire, your shop. Before even having time to comprehend the series of unfortunate events that led you up to this point, a woman walked in, sending heaving 1950/60′s vibe.

“Hello dear, I’m Grace.” Grace had a soft voice but it didn’t sound quite right, it sounded almost robotic, not human.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” You pushed past her and hope to find a way out of the large eerie house you were in. Panic mode overtook your whole body as you tried to find any way out, footsteps echoing behind you as Grace tried to catch up with you but you saw the front door and ran for it.

“My dear, you can’t go yet!” But you had already ran out the door, it being left wide open behind you, sprinting down the street probably looking like a madman but in that moment it didn’t matter to you, you had to get out.

#The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #number 5 #number five #five hargreeves x reader #number 5 x reader #number five x reader #number five imagine #number five oneshot #number 5 imagine #five hargreeves imagine #this is so old and unfinished but al post it anyways

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

Text

What is Lost is Once Found Again (Lin Beifong x fem! reader)

A/N: this is the angst fic and i have finished editing it. been feeling down lately because of some things so whens a better time to write something angsty? also reader is a firebender bc i feel like firebenders do not get enough love. enjoy yall.

warnings: angst, emotional/physical abuse, one homophobic slur.

You saw how happy they were. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. The bouquet of flowers fell from your hands. Its petals falling like the pieces of your heart that shattered. Though, this was your fault wasn’t it? You had introduced them after all and they hit it off. The rest was history. She laughed; Tenzin had made her laugh. Your vision became blurry from the tears in your eyes. You wanted to scream. You had been too late. Lin looked over and waved at you. There was a grin on her face, something you never really saw from her. You swallowed the cry that threatened to claw its way out. The urge to vomit was strong. You waved back weakly. Their attention turned from you and back to them. The fresh wild flowers you had picked for her were now damaged. It didn’t matter anymore. She looked so happy standing next to him. Lin’s green eyes looked a bit soft as she noticed the bouquet. It was a rare sight to see her so happy. Her voice sounded blurry and muddled. It felt like you were watching a movie play out on the big screen of a theatre. Tenzin looked concerned at your state of being. Here you were standing in front of them but you seemed gone. Lin’s voice snapped you out of your daze.

Her strong features pulled in concern as she called your name softly. “Are you alright?” No, you weren’t. You couldn’t tell Lin how much it hurt to see how happy she was with Tenzin. You couldn’t confess your feelings that you’ve been harboring for a while. Tenzin was your best friend and you didn’t want to ruin how joyful he was. If he knew he’d step aside and let you have her. He’d swallow it all down just for you. Blinking, your lips quivered. “I-I was just going to visit my father’s grave,” you lied. Their faces dropped; they knew how important your father had been to you. “Is that what you were going to give him,” Tenzin asked gently, head motioning to the now ruined flowers on the gravel. At that moment you hated Tenzin. He was so soft and kind that you felt guilty about falling in love with his girlfriend. You nodded, “Doesn’t matter anyways. I-I gotta go...see you later.” They tried to stop you; they called after you but you ignored them. She was gone now. You were too late. They were so enamored with each other now it didn’t matter anymore. The ache in your heart was deep. You felt anchored in the cold icy waters of the ocean but you couldn’t reach out. Cement blocks held your feet every time as you dragged through the sand. The ache in your bones became numb with the cold and every time you screamed you’d choke on the water. He makes her happy, you told yourself. I was too late.

Neither of them really talked to you anymore. It was expected, though. They were a new couple in the honeymoon phase. That’s how your mother put it, the alcohol in her system making her words slur and her movements clumsy. Your father’s anniversary of his death had passed a couple days ago and your mom became even more depressed. You fought the urge to scorch the walls that night when she spat her venomous words towards you. They were a sharp blade but you didn’t care. It would sink its blades into your skin and blood would rise. Eventually, it all became numb. Her sharp hilt of words became numb once more. “It’s your fault he’s dead. It’s your fault he’s gone.” The words stung but she was right. Your father’s death was your fault. “You know,” Tenzin started, his legs swinging off the steps of your porch. “My family will always welcome you.” It was cold that night. The freezing air bit your fingers and the wind whipped your clothes around. Tenzin had come to check up on you. He always did every anniversary. “I know,” you said softly. “I know.”

“No wonder she doesn’t talk to you anymore. A handsome and kind man sweeps Lin off of her feet. I’d do the same.” Your mother was sober this morning. She was back to her usual jabs but the eggs in front of you helped drown her out. You clenched your fork tightly, your knuckles turned white. “Too bad you couldn’t get him first.” You slammed your fist down on the counter. Flames flickered in your hands. Its tongues threatened to burn the counter you sat at. Your mother whipped around, eyes growing wide at your burning hands. You could feel how scared she was. She didn’t bother you anymore that day.

Dammit Tenzin! Lin’s room was warm compared to your frozen house. You always envied her for it but not tonight. You held her tight as she vented about her boyfriend. Well, now ex boyfriend. The thought made you scoff. Pema was a sweet girl but she was selfish. Incredibly selfish. “Am I just unloveable?” You snapped out of your thoughts. Lin didn’t shed any tears but her voice sounded so broken. “No Lin no,” you said softly, rubbing her shoulder supportively. “Tenzin’s just a dumbass. Pema is selfish and wanted to break two people’s happiness. Tenzin was stupid to got for it. You are loveable Lin.” I love you. Lin swallowed thickly; you could see her fighting the tears. “It’s stupid to cry over.” “No,” you exclaimed, pulling her into your chest. “It’s something perfectly justified to cry over! If you wanna cry you should, it’s good to cry.” “Heh. Thanks.”

You smiled softly. The moon shone on her pale features beautifully through her bedroom window. You had snuck out that night but your mom had drunk herself to sleep. You couldn’t help but think how selfish Pema was to break two people apart. While you had kept your mouth shut and swallowed the hurt, she paraded around with Tenzin. Lin’s bedroom window was open after she helped you in. You felt guilty about throwing a small rock near her window. But, when you heard Tenzin had broken up with her from some gossip in town, you made haste to Lin. The box of fudge from the bakery you had bought for her was almost empty from eating both of your feelings. “Please don’t hurt him,” Lin said softly in your arms. Her eyes were heavy and her breathing was more shallow. “I’ll try not to,” you joked. She laughed. For the first time that night she laughed and your heart swelled at the thought. “Night Lin,” you whispered, setting her gently onto the bed. She snored softly, causing your heart to swell. You kissed her head and ventured home.

You swung your feet from Lin’s bathroom counter. Tenzin and Lin hadn’t talked in a little over a year. Being your best friend the two of you talked and you gave clipped answers when he’d ask about her. Anytime you saw Pema you felt the rage and felt flames in your palms threatening to burst. You had yelled at him for an hour about how stupid and selfish he was. Aang had to come outside and see what all the ruckus was about. “Fuck,” you said tightly. You came back to the present from the stinging pain of the rubbing alcohol. “Sorry,” Lin muttered. For being such a hardass she was gentle when she needed to be. The cotton ball was soft on your temple, giving you some relief. At least the nosebleed stopped, but your eye was beginning to swell. “She can’t be doing this to you anymore,” she said softly, her brows worrying. For being nineteen, Lin looked pretty mature. Though, she had always been more stern and responsible even as a kid.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, brushing it off. You winced at the alcohol again. “No it’s not,” she replied sternly. You could see her green eyes flare up but there was concern and worry underneath it. “If you need somewhere to stay you can stay with me. I don’t want you to have to go through this anymore.” You didn’t interrupt her rant. Interrupting Lin is the equivalent to poking a grumpy old bear/ “What happened this time?” You sighed. You really didn’t want to have this conversation. Lin was open minded about certain things but you weren’t sure about being attracted to the same gender. It was still something you yourself were coming to terms with. Your mother had found out and the glass bottle shattered on the wall. It was meant for your head. “Just her being her usual self. Getting mad at something,” you clipped. Lin could tell you weren’t telling the whole story but she let it drop, thankfully. “All done,” she said. “Thanks.” She nodded in reply. “Do you need to stay here tonight?” “I don’t wanna intrude. I can stay at Kiki’s.” Kiki’s was the bakery you had bought the box of fudge for Lin when Tenzin broke up with her. The owner was always kind to you and knew about your struggles. He was warm hearted and offered you a place to crash from time to time. He reminded you of your father. Lin shook her head. “You’re staying here tonight. Besides, I just got this place and I want to spend time with you.” Your heart warmed at her words. An unrequited crush, two years strong. How sad. Your mother’s words rang in your ears. “How could she ever love a fag like you?”

It was raining that morning. Kiki’s had hired you as a baker and offered you the room upstairs. Even though firebenders were known to be ambitious, passionate, and more aggressive than others, you had no drive or ambition. You didn’t know what you wanted in life but baking was something you were passionate about. “I’m gonna be out,” you shouted over your shoulder. “Alright be safe,” Maro, the store owner, called out from the back. Swinging your satchel over your shoulder you grabbed the box of leftover donuts for Lin. You balanced the two coffee cups on the box and swiftly left the place. Your bright blue bicycle rested on the side of the bakery. As you mounted your bike you smiled, excited to see Lin today. The two coffee cups sat in the cup holders on the sides of the basket while the donuts sat safely in the basket.The wind whipped through your hair and the rain drizzled lightly. The rain was light but you peddled quickly so the food wouldn’t be ruined. Lin’s wasn’t too far Kiki’s either. It felt freeing to be peddling down the hills; your worries flew away with the sweeping wind. Her apartment came into view. The thought of seeing her made you peddle faster. You placed your bike on the side of the building and pounded up the stairs. You held the box of donuts tightly in your hands, shielding it from the now pouring rain. Your heart quickened as you reached her front door. You had left Kiki’s at eight so she had to be up by now. You knocked on her door. Faintly, you could hear her footsteps. Lin greeted you with a blanket on her shoulders and a white tank top under it. Black sweats hugged her body nicely. The dark circles under her eyes were prominent in the bright gray morning. “What a surprise,” she said, the corners over her lips tugging upwards. You chuckled, “Had some leftovers and decided to visit. It’s been a while.” Her eyes lightened up at the sight of coffee and the delicious pastries. Lin held the door for you as you balanced the goodies and stepped into her apartment.

“Talked to Tenzin finally.” You almost choked on the sprinkled donut you were eating. Lin held her coffee cup in her hands as she glanced down at her kitchen counter. Her plain glazed donut sat on a napkin untouched. You gulped your food down. “That’s..great. What’d he say?” Lin chuckled at your answer. “He apologized, actually.” She sipped her black coffee. “Oh…” you trailed off. You weren’t sure how to respond. He had broken up with her three years ago and now apologized? “I don’t feel anything about it anymore. I was surprised, honestly.” You hummed, sipping your hot chocolate. “Took him long enough.” Lin snorted, “It did. I just can’t help but wonder...why.” You shot a confused glance her way, digging into the box for another sweet. A chocolate donut, this time. You missed the smile Lin had as she saw your childlike wonder and excitement about something so small as a pastry. “No one seems to have any interest in me anymore. Can’t help but wonder if I’m going to die alone,” she joked, taking another sip of her drink. You could hear a bit of sadness in her voice though. Passion bubbled in your chest and before you could think better you opened your mouth. “You’re not gonna die alone Lin. You’re sweet and kind and compassionate. You care about the people you love and are fiercely loyal. You’re intelligent and observant and also snarky. You’re just so….perfect!” The creeping anxiety surged when the answer you met with was silence. Muffled laughter escaped Lin’s lips as she tried to keep a straight face. It was rare; her body shook and the giggles turned into laughter. It rang in your ears and your heart swelled at the perfect sound. Before you could stop yourself, you kissed her.Her lips tasted like coffee and mint. She smelt like earth, paper, and leather. Her lips were soft and plush. Your eyes widened and immediately you pulled back. “I-I’m so s-sorry I-,” you sputtered, scurrying away from her. Lin just stared. There was no expression on her face as she looked at you. You felt tears run down your cheeks before you had a chance to stop them. A heavy lump sat in your throat and you dashed to get your bag. You left without another word, slamming Lin’s door behind you. She didn’t even try to stop you.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” you sobbed, the rain pouring, soaking you to the bone. You peddled faster, sobs unleashing from your throat. The road was hard to see from the rain and your blurry vision. You didn’t care, if something or someone hit you you would accept your fate. Hell, that would be a good one. Better than losing Lin for good. Once you wheeled your bike to it’s spot you dashed into Kiki’s. Customers sat at tables leaving the workers distracted so you bolted upstairs. You didn’t feel like having Maro interrogate your crying right now. As much as you loved the big jolly man, you couldn’t let him see you like this. You changed out of your wet clothes and threw on something comfortable. For the rest of the day you let your blankets embrace you and cried your heart out. Eventually, you drifted off to sleep.

It was five pm once you woke up again. The memory of kissing Lin and acting so stupid made you curse. Tears threatened to spill again and you trembled. A soft knock snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come in,” you croaked. Maro opened the door poking his head in. “Are you alright?” The dam broke loose. Instantly you were a sobbing mess again. The man who was almost like your father closed the door quickly and held you in his arms. “What happened,” he cooed, rocking you back and forth. You told him everything;about your mother, your father, and Lin. After you were finished he kissed the top of your head. “Give her some time. She’ll come around with an answer for you soon. She’d be lucky to have you.” “Thanks Maro,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes. A few moments of silence stretched. You didn’t believe his words, something told you that you pushed Lin away for good.“I think I’m gonna have to leave.” The giant man beneath you squawked. “I need to learn how to control my firebending still. I’ve shut it away for so long, I think it’s time now.” Maro sighed, “I knew this day would come. You’re sure of it? What if Lin comes for you?” You shook your head. “I don’t think she will Maro.” “Alright. When you come back, you have a home here at Kiki’s. Y’know that right?” “I-I know. Thank you Maro.”

The next morning Maro and his brother waved you off. Maro cried as he gave you one last hug and a box of sweets for the go. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you said goodbye to your only family. “T-thank you Maro for everything. I never deserved your kindness.” “Yes you do, you’re family. You’re my daughter,” Maro blubbered. Even Maro’s brother who was a stone faced man had tears in his eyes You smiled. Your lips quivered and tears streamed down your face. “I love you guys,” you choked out. “I-I’ll be back soon I promise.” With one last goodbye you made your way to Tenzin and his family for a farewell.Tenzin was sad to see you go but he understood. Some journeys were meant to be traveled alone. Aang wished you the best of your travels and sent a wool cloak with you. It was soft and the warmest thing you ever owned. Pema was there, and you were civil with her, but after what she had done to Lin you didn’t see her the same. Tenzin had given you an amulet he was keeping for you and it hung around your neck proudly. You hurried to the docks of Republic City. Missing the boat would certainly add to your already dampened spirits. As you swept through the streets you couldn’t help but think of Lin. The wounds were still fresh but you trudged on. Like a coward, you ran.

Your room was barren and cold. ‘Had it always been this cold,’ Lin thought. The baker, Maro, looked sad today. It was unusual for he was joyful and warm. But today his flame had been blown at, the smoke curling around his heart. Lin was paralyzed when you had kissed her. She couldn’t move until it was too late. A white envelope sat on your desk. Lin. She ran to the desk and ripped it open. As she read it, her eyes widened and her eyes felt watery. Dammit. She was too late. Lin flung the letter on the floor and bolted to the docks. The white parchment paper sifted through the air gracefully until it fell on the ground.

Lin,

I’m sorry. I did what must be done.

Goodbye,

“No!” Lin cried out as the boat sailed away from view. Tears spilled from her cheeks and her teeth clenched. Her fists were balled tightly and her face twisted in anguish. You were gone, forever. She stood on the busy docs;people went around her throwing dirty looks her way. She didn’t care. They went around her mumbling under their breaths. She had been too late. “Line five, ship is boarding, line five, ship is boarding,” the guy called out. Lin perked up. Were you still here? Quickly, she scanned the line. Her heart stopped. She recognized the familiar body and the wool cloak shrouded protectively across their shoulders. Lin bounded over to you. Her hand grabbed your wrist tightly and she pulled you out of the line. “Hey-” your eyes widened as you saw her. “Lin? What are you-” “You’re an idiot you know that?” You gulped. You didn’t think Lin would talk to you anymore but her anger wasn’t unexpected. “I-I’m sorry,” you said softly, averting her intense gaze. “I-I wasn’t thinking clearly and I admit that. But if you’ve come here to ridicule me-” Lin smashed your lips with hers. A muffled squeak in surprise left you but you melted into her touch. Lin’s hands held your face tightly and her chest brushed up against yours. You sighed into the kiss allowing her tongue to enter your mouth and gently sucking on yours. She pulled away;both of you out of breath. Your cheeks heated up at the realization that the love of your life liked you back. “How long have you loved me,” Lin asked softly. Her eyes shone with fondness as she looked at you. “You know when you started dating Tenzin?” She nodded. “I was gonna confess to you then.” Lin’s eyes widened in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You smiled sadly, “You looked so happy. I didn’t want to ruin that.” Lin kissed you again. Her hands held your waist in a tight grip and she bent you lower. You giggled, grabbing her face for support. There were tears in her eyes as she looked at you. You felt your eyes start to water and you laughed softly. “I love you,” Lin whispered, tears threatening to spill. “Don’t you ever leave me again.” You smiled, you were crying again but these were happy tears instead. Gently, she wiped the spilling tears from your cheeks with her thumbs. They felt a bit rough but you couldn’t complain. You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I love you too Lin.”

#legend of korra #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra x reader #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong #angst #x reader #reader insert

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pheonixfire4015 · 3 years

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Elliot and Oliva- Something I felt I just needed to say....

No one may see or read this but I thought I would write it for myself, to get it out of my head, and in case someone out there is like me and reading this makes them feel less alone in their struggle. Over the years I watched SVU and related to it deeply due to the trauma I had experienced in life. After Chris left the show and I saw continuous trauma being done to Liv I just couldn’t continue watching. When I saw that Chris was returning, I came back. There was one scene that was really triggering for me- it was difficult. In order to explain why it was I need to give some background.

When I was young, I was placed into a foster home. Due to the trauma from my upbringing, I had never had an emotional connection to my own parents. When I moved into the first foster home it was like a dream come true. I never imagined I would ever be lucky enough to get a second chance at being a part of a family. Every night I thanked God, because I knew how many kids are in foster care. They offered to adopt me and I so desperately wanted to be a part of them. I opened my heart up to the mom in a way I had never opened up to anyone before. So that mom bond I never had with by biological mom I developed with the foster mom. However, they didn’t realize that when a child has trauma there is a lot of things you have to work through. Sadly, the system does not prepare family’s enough for what it will be like. With most foster care kids you may run into kids with severe issues… some struggle to connect to others, some lash out in severe anger or bad behaviors, struggle developmentally, etc. The only issue I had was I was developmentally behind, I didn’t know how to communicate, and I had a lot of memories and experiences I had to work through. I was like an 80 year old in a kids body. I was a good kid. I didn’t have any friends and never once got into trouble. For years I got to experience family meals, movie nights, having someone tuck me in at night with hugs and kisses, I had someone to talk to, I was safe, I would be held and loved, they wanted to adopt me- I was worth fighting for, ect. I began counseling. I worked hard because I wanted to show the family I would and could get better, that I would be healed. It was hard as hell but I did it. However, as time went on I noticed that the mom was pulling away and lashing out at me. As a kid I didn’t understand it at the time. So I tried harder. But no matter how hard I tried she just kept pulling away. She explained to the counselor that all I came with was too much and listening to past trauma made her feel helpless as she couldn’t fix that. She explained her kids were jealous and that her husband no longer wanted me there- as I was taking time away from him and their biological kids. Eventually they decided they didn’t want me apart of their family and no longer wanted me to live with them. I was then placed into a new family, a family I didn’t want to go to.

I cannot express in words how deeply that experience affected me- how badly it messed with my head. Going into adulthood I was so willfully unprepared for life. I was lost and alone. In my upbringing there was physical and sexual abuse, I was surrounded by substance abuse, and my mom left when I was 11. I can honestly say that the harm and pain caused by that foster family choosing to leave far outweighed the pain my own parents caused me. I wanted to die. To finally feel like you belong, to be loved, and held, and safe and then have it pulled away. Its like dangling a carrot in front of a starving animal. The hole and void it left has never left me. It hurt so bad I felt I was physically dying. I am 38 now and I have gone through a lot of counseling. I have a different perspective now but to this day the hole, the wound they left remains. Due to health issues I don’t have kids and am not married. As protection for the most part I stick to myself. There are still triggers- places, smells, and sounds that bring things up so I do my best. I still live in the same town and have run into her in stores. It was like mourning the death of someone who is still alive. They went back to their normal lives leaving me with less than I had, and taking with them the part of my heart I gave them. It’s something I have learned I will have to live with for the rest of my life. And I will forever have to live with all the implications of what it means to have a family decide they now longer want you.

When Elliot was written off the show, seeing Liv go through that experience was so triggering for me. It was TV but real, so deeply real for me. I just couldn’t do it, I couldn’t watch anymore. There was a scene in the reunion with Fin and Elliot. Fin states, “It took Liv a minute but she eventually moved on.” People have no concept when you’re dealing with major trauma in your background and you let someone in and trust them, losing the one stolid support is earth shattering. Liv had never known family until Elliot came into her life. So, the minute Fin said that line I said out loud, “Bullshit, she moved on.” I paused the episode and went for a walk. The pain of Elliot leaving left a void in her she had just learned to live with. That didn’t mean that every day she didn’t hope he would choose to come back, that she didn’t ache for closure. When Liv said “Elliot, you were the most, single most important person in my life and you just disappeared.” I felt it all the way to my bones, I got it with every fiber of my being. Every day I hoped they would come back, realize they made a mistake, that they loved me, that I was worth fighting. Every day I hoped the mom would wake up and realize the mistake she made and reach out. Even to this day its there, so you just learn to cope with those feelings, always there under the surface. I dream about them, think about them, etc. It will never leave me.

Watching a fictional character get the chance to do and say what she needed for closure- knowing I probably never would, was hard. I understand this is a show and they have to keep viewers watching every week but I just hope they do this right. As they have no idea the people watching who have actually endured these traumas in real life. I long to see Oliva get the chance at some peace in her life, to experience family. I wrote a fic recently “Peace in the midst of the storm” because I just needed to write the full conversation I hope or wish Elliot and Olivia would have. I hope Elliot and Olivia end up together, I really do. I’d love to see both of them go into counseling, and finally work through shit instead of continuing to bury it as it festers. I’d love the end scene of SVU to be Liv sit in the backyard of her own small home with Elliot next to her, watching her son play. There’s enough evil and trauma and pain enough in this world. I just hope Dick Wolf does having Chris back justice! This show has been important for a lot of people who have endured hell in their lifetimes, but weirdly its healing to see some good coming to those who have struggled- namely Olivia- even if she isn’t real. If you are watching SVU and you are in the same boat as me. I pray all the blessings and peace for the remainder of your days! Heres to hoping we get a beautiful SVU and E/O outcome :). Thanks for hearing me out.

#svu #elliot stabler #elliot and olivia #olivia benson #bensler #dick wolf #nbc #mariska hargitay #chris meloni #triggering

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ahopelessromantic · 4 years

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Stops Along the Road ➳ D. Morgan

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Wordcount: Roughly 4k

Warnings: None really, some cursing, a gun wound, mentions of pregnancy, Morgan and the reader are stupid

Summary: The road to finding your way to Morgan once and for all was a long one, but you’ve never enjoyed a ride more. (A/N: I’m so happy to finally be writing again! Criminal Minds is back on Amazon Prime and back is my inspiration baby! I know this is a bit different from my usual stuff, but I quite liked the format of the little insights into the life of reader and Derek. I hope you’ll enjoy!)

The one with the flirting

“Okay, is it just me or was the captain heavily flirting with Morgan?” JJ grinned, leaning in closer to her colleagues so no one at the station would over her them. You were in the middle of packing up your stuff right by them, trying to listen in as inconspicuously as possible. „Oh god, please don’t bring it up.“ Emily laughed, sending a confused frown across JJ’s forehead. „Why that?“ „(Y/N) gets weirdly protective of Morgan when someone’s flirting with him. It’s almost like she wants to fight them every time.“ Spencer chimed in. It was just then that you realised you probably should have gone into hiding as soon as JJ had walked up to them with her ‘I have gossip’ face. „See?“ Emily grinned at her colleague, then at you. You wanted to disappear.

„Even Reid notices. You gritted your teeth. “I don’t want him to get hurt, so what? Derek is just as protective of me with guys. We look out for each other.” Emily looked like she wanted to continue poking around, but starting to feel defensive you snapped at her. “My friendship with Derek is not your business, okay? We are what we are, and no matter how weird it may seem to you, just accept it. We’re nothing to gossip about.” The bad conscience already kicked in while you made your dramatic exit, but you swallowed it down with a heavy sigh. Constantly working around the same people sometimes caused them to get a bit too close for comfort, and their eternal teasing about you and your best friend was starting to get on your nerves. The bond you and Derek shared couldn’t be described with words and certainly, wasn’t really comprehensible to people looking in from the outside, so you wished they could just take it as it was and let you two be. You had more important things on your mind than thinking about what your coworkers’ opinions on the relationship between you and your best friend, as much as you loved them. More important things like the next case that you had already been called in for, for example.

The one with the gun wound You knew that your job wasn’t easy. You knew it brought many dangers with it, and you knew that people were bound to wind up hurt at some point. But in all your worrying over your team, that was like family to you, you had never expected yourself to be the one getting injured at some point. But here you were, shot by an unsub that had been restrained by Prentiss mere moments after he had fired his gun at you. You were sitting on the floor, jaw hurting from clenching it too hard, Morgan kneeling next to you. His body exuded warmth you desperately needed, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have his soothing presence right there beside you. „Shh. Come on, keep on breathing.” He spoke calmly, but the way his hand was squeezing yours told you a whole different story. “It’s just a shot in the leg.” You rolled your eyes and groaned, trying your best to play it off. He looked at you with his dark eyes, a mix between a deadpan and a smile that only he was able to do. „Doesn’t matter, it‘s still gonna hurt and you don’t have to act all tough like it doesn’t, okay?“ You released the breath you had been holding in a cough, teeth still gritted. „I feel like once I acknowledge that it hurts I’m going to start screaming or cursing really bad. Possibly both.“ Your voice was fainter than you would have liked it to be. He gave your hand another squeeze. „Come on, let go. The paramedics will be here in no time and then they’ll dope you up on painkillers anyway. Will you unclench your teeth now before they shatter in your jaw, you stubborn woman?“ You half chuckled, half sobbed and then decided to hell with it. You relaxed your body and started taking deep breaths again, and with the breathing in came the pain. „Motherfucker!“ You yelled, an even worse string of curses escaping your lips right after. Derek just chuckled. „See, there you go. Just let it all out.“ You just glanced daggers at him. „You are so paying for the drinks next time we’re going out.“ He just chuckled. Sometimes you hated him.

The one with the wedding If someone were to ask you what you loved most about your best friend, you would probably tell them that he was easy. There was never any doubt with him, you didn’t have to question anything about him or your friendship. Morgan was your person and you were his. Period. Your support for each other was quiet, so quiet that other people sometimes forgot about just how deep your affection for each other ran. But his love was there when he placed you coffee order on your desk every morning without words, it was there when he gave you a birthday present you had once only shortly mentioned and then never spoken of again, it was there when you patched him up with your little to none medical knowledge after he had been too rough in kicking a door down once again. So it wasn’t really a surprise that he had been the one to find you hiding out in the gardens. You were sitting on a bench, feeling miserable in your little yellow dress. Normally you were a huge fan of weddings, a huge fan of love, but this one had set something off inside of you. Most of your friends from high school were long married already, your team members were tying the knot one by one, too, and here you still were, alone on a bench with no ring on your finger and no family to come home to. “Thought I’d find you out here.” Derek’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you were so grateful to see his stupid face that you almost started crying. It was as if that man had a sixth sense for your emotions, a talent for always being right where you needed him. “I’m… getting some fresh air.” You lied, knowing that he wasn’t going to be fooled by it. He sat down next to you, his eyes mustering you as if they were trying to decode your emotions. “I thought you loved weddings.” You chuckled and looked up at him through your lashes. “I do. It’s just… something about this one is bugging me. I feel awful for even letting my thoughts go there, but I just couldn’t help it tonight. You know, everyone in there is happy, with boyfriends and husbands and wives and a future to look forward to, and all I’ve got is my job and a car that my best friend likes to steal.” Derek chuckled, probably picturing himself in your beloved BMW convertible for a moment. A comfortable silence spread between the two of you, and it could have stayed that way. Just two friends sitting in a garden, enjoying the evening. But you felt the urge to talk more about this gnawing feeling in your chest, to get to know if he, at least, felt like that too. “Don’t you ever get worried? About the future? That you’ll end up alone and sad, with no one to grow old with?” He exhaled, looking happy that you had opened up yourself without him having to squeeze it out of you. For a moment he looked pensive, his gaze wandering off into the distance. You watched him closely, the strong eyebrows, the delicate face. It was a face you knew like no other, a face that had seen you in all your worst moments. “No.” He finally spoke up. “I’m not worried.” He said with an almost reverent honesty that took you off guard. “I honestly don’t know what will happen in the future. But I know that you’re in it, and nothing calms me more than knowing that. So no matter what happens, there will be you and I.“ You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, causing him to place his arm around you. Somehow, those few words had calmed you. You weren’t going to be alone, ever. “I love you, Derek.” You murmured into the night. He turned his head to press a kiss against your temple. “I love you too. Now come on, let’s break up this little pity party of yours and make use of the open bar. I mean, how often do we get free booze?” You felt a smile grow across your lips against your will. “Basically never. But you have to promise to dance with me.” Morgan got up from the bench and held out his hand to you. “Honey, if you give me two more glasses of champagne I’ll even dance the chicken dance for you.” You threw your head back and laughed, taking his hand. “Alright, idiot. Let’s go give them a show.”

The one where his mother gets involved „I love seeing you two together so much.“ You blushed and, in an attempt to hide it, continued chopping the vegetables. „Derek always seems so free without you, you know? So happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be like that with anyone else.“ You dared yourself to look at your best friend’s mom, not expecting the look on her face to be so serious. „He’s just my Derek.“ You chuckled awkwardly, not really seeing the big deal in his change of behaviour around you. You acted differently when it was just the two of you as well, but wasn’t that how people were when they let their guards down? The smallest of smiles snuck across Mrs Morgan‘s lips. „Exactly honey, your Derek. He’s yours.“ You felt yourself freeze, but as if she knew exactly what she was doing the small woman smacked you with one of her kitchen towels. „You know how desperate I am for grandchildren, I’ll take any chance I get! Can’t you at least maybe think about it?“ You laughed, maybe a little bit too loudly, and rolled your eyes. „Nice try, Mrs M. But I’ll tell you when I get there.“ Morgan couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest upon overhearing the conversation between you and his mother. Above all, of course, was the air of familiarity with which you interacted. You were never just someone who tagged along with him, these days you belonged into his family home almost as much as he did. But then, the deeper undertones of his mother’s words gnawed away at his subconscious, as if they were trying to unlock something that wasn’t there yet. Your Derek. After years of playing the role of the tough guy, the man of the family, a victim hiding the fact that he was just that, you had somehow been the first person he had allowed himself to be soft again with. For some reason, he only realised it now, how easily you had snuck past his guards and made yourself at home way beyond them. The words of an ex-girlfriend came to his mind. „I’m tired of trying to drill through your walls, Derek. There’s always some part of you that’s hidden from me and I don’t deserve that.“ She had been right, with her words, and right to break up with him. He hadn’t truly let someone new into his life in years. Not since you had come along anyway. But he shook his head and entered the kitchen with a bright smile plastered on his face. Today was not the day to think about such profound things. Today was all about his mother, and there would be other days to venture into unveiling the true nature of his affection for you.

The one where it’s enough It had been a while since the thoughts of you and him had started blooming in Derek’s chest. Maybe it had been his mother, maybe it had been the number of years you had already spent in your weird little companionship, but somehow, he couldn’t help seeing you in a completely different light. Suddenly every laugh you laughed was for him, suddenly every touch made his heartbeat speed up. It was almost as if he was a teenager again, only that his crush was his best friend and he couldn’t just run away from you without arousing suspicion. He watched you pack your bag at your desk, a gorgeous burgundy dress he had never seen before clinging to your figure. “Oh wow. You’re dressed up like that for him?” You turned around in surprise upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Derek? What are you still doing here?” You were the last ones still at work, everyone else had left to go home or somewhere else already. You had shoved in some extra hours tonight, mainly to distract yourself from the evening ahead. An ex of yours was back in town, and he had made it more than clear to you that he had changed and that this time, he was ready to be serious about you. You didn’t even really know yourself why you had agreed to go out for dinner with him, maybe it was the fear of feeling as lonely as you had on the wedding again. Derek stepped closer to you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. You shuddered, not prepared for the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t go on this date, (Y/N). You’ll just allow him back into your life and settle for way less than you actually deserve and-“ You frowned and watched him shake his head in frustration, not able to read his behaviour. This was a side of Derek you had never seen before, one you didn’t know, and it made you anxious. But then, suddenly, he sent you one last weird look, stepped closer to you and grabbed your face to kiss you. You felt your eyes widen, looking at him in confusion after pulling away. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammered out; afraid he had made a terrible mistake. There had always been clear lines between the two of you, lines that had never been openly discussed yet also lines that had never been crossed. Derek cupped the side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “I need to do this before I forever regret never taking a shot at us. I love you, (Y/N), and not just in the way I’ve thought. You’re not just in my future, I think you... you are my future. No one will ever fit as much with us like us. Our crazy jobs, our stupid addiction to cheesy 90’s music, the years of experience we have with handling each other through our highs and lows…We would be stupid not to at least try it.” You exhaled the breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding in. “So don’t go on this date, don’t let this stupid guy make you think that mediocrity is all you deserve. We might not work out in the end, which I think is highly unlikely, but we definitely are anything but mediocre. I burn for you, (Y/N), and with the way we subconsciously keep sabotaging our own relationships I can’t help but hope that you feel the same.” You blinked at him for a moment, still not really sure about what exactly was happening. You didn’t even dare properly thinking it through, but not even that scared you. This felt right, as right as nothing in your life had ever felt before. It was Derek, after all. He was your person. So you held onto his strong arms, got on your tiptoes, and tentatively kissed him. This time it was him who looked at you in surprise after pulling away, his chest heaving as if he were out of breath. “I love you too.” You whispered. You looked at each other for a moment, trying to think of what to do next. And then you were all over each other.

The one where everyone finds out “We’re not telling anyone about this. This is our thing.” You spoke, closing the last two bottoms on your blouse. Derek watched you from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, humming in agreement. “They’ll never let us live this down if we tell them that we’re together now. Can you imagine the teasing from Prentiss and Hotch?” You shuddered at his words, making your way over to him and sinking down on his lap. “This is just ours for now.” You smiled and kissed him carefully. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe you got to do that now, to just kiss your best friend whenever you felt like it. It was exhilarating, and you almost regretted all the years it had taken you to get to that point. He snaked his arms around you and pulled you closer, the warmth in his eyes robbing you of your ability to speak. “Ours.” He repeated as if he couldn’t believe it himself. You kissed him again, just to remind him of how much you were his now. Then the two of you got ready to go to work. It wasn’t exactly a rarity to see the two of you coming into the BAU together on some mornings, so you didn’t even bother arriving on separate times, and yet something seemed to be notably different about the two of you. Something so different that, when you saw Spencer slip a fifty-dollar bill into JJ’s hand, you knew that there was no keeping secrets in this godforsaken team. The teasing during the next few weeks was awful, and hadn’t the two of you loved your co-workers and friends so much you would have probably reported their bullying to HR. But nothing could overshadow your happiness at this point. You both felt as if you had finally fully stepped into life, finally stepped into your full potential. The happiest out of all the people over your getting together though, even happier than you yourselves, was Derek’s mother. She had yelled out in joy upon hearing the news over the phone, scolding Derek for how long she had known without him listening to her and making you laugh. A few months later you finally found the time to visit Derek’s family as a real couple for the first time, already feeling bad for how long it had taken you. The first half-hour was, again, spent with Mrs Morgan telling the two of you about how she had known all along and always wished for you to get together already. “Now, all I need to be completely happy is a grandchild.” She casually said over dinner and caused you to choke on your food. Derek hid his laughter in his napkin and threw you a look that just about said ‘you knew what you were getting yourself into’. “But I can see that we’re already close to that. How far along are you, (Y/N) dear?” Suddenly Derek wasn’t laughing anymore. You felt yourself freeze in shock and blinked at your boyfriend’s mother in shock. “Huh?!” You asked with the most conviction. She happily chatted on. “Oh honey, you can’t tell me that all that glowing is just from my son, as much as I love him.” You put your fork down with trembling fingers. “Mrs Morgan, I’m not pregnant.” She looked at you, narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. “Alright. I just had a feeling.” You knew damn well that she wasn’t done with this yet, but the topic seemed to be finished for the moment and you awkwardly moved to other subjects with your conversations. Later that night, Morgan watched you getting ready for bed with the same weird look as his mother. “Should I go get you a test?” He asked. You exhaled. “I’m not pregnant Derek!”, you almost yelled in exasperation. He lowered his gaze. “But… you have been looking different. Something feels different.” You smiled and sat down beside him on the little bench at the end of the bed. “That’s because I am different. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, okay? It’s got nothing to do with a baby, as much as your mom hopes for one.” Derek chuckled and took your hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the both of them. “Do you think we should take her to a doctor? Maybe she’s not doing alright.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder. “Now you’re just being mean, babe.” Still chuckling you crawled underneath the covers, patting the empty space next to you. He understood immediately, laying down next to you and pulling you close to his toned body. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the silence for a moment, the calm you always felt in your best friend’s embrace. “I am surprised, though.” You spoke into the silence. Derek hummed in question, his warm chest vibrating beneath your ear. “I thought you would be freaking out at the prospect of a baby. Yet here you were, just offering me to get a test.” He turned to be able to look at you, his face displaying surprise over his own behaviour. “Huh. I guess…” He inhaled deeply. “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if it was with you. We’re gonna have them anyway, right? I thought that was part of the deal.” You both laughed. “Part of your mom’s deal, anyway.” He chuckled at your words. “But in all seriousness, I look forward to it, Derek. One day we’ll have a few little Morgans running around, and with our genes, they’ll be adorable. Your mom just caught me off guard, you know? We basically just started dating, even though we’ve known each other for so long. It would be a little soon, wouldn’t it?” Derek just shrugged and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If it happens, it happens. I’ll take whatever life throws at me as long as I’ve got you by my side.”

The one where his mom knows best Was there a secret rule that mothers had to be clairvoyant, or all-knowing? It was a week later, and you had just emptied your stomach’s contents into your trash bin at work. You had been feeling dizzy the past few days, and your sense of smell had changed, too. For today, you decided to play it off as a placebo effect and continued with your day, even though Derek looked at your pale face in worry all day. But the next day was Saturday, the day you and Derek traditionally cooked a big breakfast together, and when the smell of his famous pancakes sent you running to the toilet you knew what was up. Your boyfriend ran into the toilet after you, rushing to hold your hair up and stroke your back. Once you were done coughing up your lungs and were able to sit up straight again, you met his gaze in shock and closed your eyes. And then the two of you started laughing. “Mother knows best, huh?” You laughed, burying your face in your hands. “Is there any way we can keep this from her? Just to spite her?” Derek chuckled and pressed the longest kiss against your forehead. “No way, I’m afraid. She’s never gonna shut up about this.” You smiled and looked at him, really looked at him kneeling on the floor with you. You thought back to the talk you had had in his childhood bedroom, the talk you had had at the wedding, the way he had been so sure of your future together. With him by your side, you were going to be alright. So maybe you weren’t going to shut up about this either.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds oneshot #criminology #bau #BAU Team #bau x reader #derek morgan #shemar moore #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #pregnant reader

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nerdyfangirl67 · 4 years

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Sometimes You Lose - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Morgan x reader

Warnings: angst (loads of it), character death, slightly AU Morgan (nervous when confronted with reader’s feelings for him), mentions of blood and gunshot wounds, mentions of guns

Word count: 1724

A/N: Okay, so I was in some rough headspace when I wrote this so, as a result, there is no fluff ending. Rather, it is a solid angst fest. I really struggled to find a different word, other than desperate that fit this one but couldn’t. So it’s in here a few times. Hope y’all like it. And as per usual, requests are open!

Reader and Derek come to the realization that they have feelings for each other, but is it too late?

The case had been going remarkably well, at least considering the fact that you and the team were hunting down a killer. Reid had easily identified the kill zone and the profile had been built relatively quickly by the team. After canvassing the kill zone, and interviewing the two known witnesses, the team had been able to identify the unsub. Hotch quickly divided the team in two and sent one pair, you and Morgan to the unsub’s house, while he and Rossi went to the unsub’s work location. Reid and JJ stayed back at the precinct, where they continued to review the case, in case the unsub wasn’t who they currently thought.

You weren’t thrilled at the prospect of having to spend one-on-one time with Morgan. In the past, the thought alone would have had your nerves dancing with excitement and butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, like a schoolgirl with a crush. Because that is exactly what you had, a crush.

It wasn’t just any crush though. Your thoughts were dominated by him. You spent many a free moment fantasizing about how you’d tell him about your feelings and how he’d respond. After years of pining for him, you finally decided to tell him how you felt. So you did, a few days ago. In all of your fantasies, you had never imagined any outcome other than a positive one. But, after the way he responded, you should have thought about the negative ones as well.

-Three days ago-

It was late in the afternoon and the team had spent the entire day working on the ever-growing pile of paperwork. You all had just finished a case the night before and had yet to take on a new one, therefore making it a day for paperwork. After a solid hour of casework at your desk, you decide to get up, stretch your legs, and grab a caffeinated drink. After grabbing your favorite soda out of the fridge, you take a seat next to Morgan at the small table.

“Hey, baby girl. Taking a break from the grind?” His deep voice sends thrills racing down your spine.

“Yeah. There is only so much paperwork I can do at once.” You answer, resting your head in your hand.

“I’m glad you chose to take a break now doll, or else I wouldn’t get to share it with you.” His words, accompanied by a wide smile, brought a deep need rising in your chest. A deep need to tell him the truth, to tell him how you felt.

“Derek I, ugh, need to talk to you. I guess I have for a while now. I don’t really know how to say this so I guess I’m just going to say it. I like you, a lot. More than a friend should like another friend. I like like you.” You were rambling out what you had been keeping a secret before you could stop yourself. He didn’t move or speak. He just sat there staring at you.

You stare at him for a few moments, before saying, “It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting you to respond. I mean, I know what I wanted you to say, but I should have figured…”

He suddenly cuts you off with a short “Oh, um-I gotta go.” He quickly stands, sending you a remorseful smile, before leaving you alone in the break room, with your mouth hanging open in response.

It doesn’t take an IQ of 187 for you to realize that you had made him uncomfortable, or for you to realize that he most definitely did not feel the same way as you did.

-----

Ever since that awkward conversation in the break room, you did everything you could to avoid spending time with him. You didn’t want to make him feel as though you were obsessed with him by pushing yourself on him or forcing him into a confrontation. But now, you didn’t have a choice.

After Hotch paired the two of you up, you had geared yourself up for a very quiet, awkward ride to the unsub’s house. Yet again, it was as if the universe mocked you for thinking you knew what was going on.

Derek had only just pulled away from the precinct when he starts talking. “I need to apologize for the other day doll. You caught me off guard, but in a good way.” He sneaks a glance at you, placing his hand on top of yours on the divider. You hold your breath as you wait for him to continue, not ready to believe that he might be saying what you’d wanted to hear from him for years.

“I like like you too, Y/N. And I don’t think that I will ever be able to truly apologize for letting you think that I didn’t feel the same way.” He pauses for a moment, taking your hand and bringing it slowly up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before he continues. “I was, no I am, scared. I can’t lose you, baby girl, I can’t.” His broken voice causes your stomach to clench nervously. You had never seen Derek Morgan be anything but strong.

“I’m here Derek. You’re not going to lose me.” You whisper, caressing his hand, the one that was still entwined with yours, with your thumb. He gives you a small smile, accompanied by a gentle squeeze to your hand.

The rest of the drive goes by quietly, each of you lost in your own thoughts. Derek holds your hand right up until he shuts the SUV off. You both quickly strap on your Kevlar vests before exiting the vehicle. Derek knocks roughly on the door, announcing the two of you as you go around the back of the house.

No one answers and you can make out the sound of him kicking open the door. You test the back door, noticing its unlocked, before entering the house. You draw your gun, moving swiftly through the house when you hear a series of gunshots. You rush towards the source of the sound, catching a glimpse of what you assume is the unsub fleeing the house. Moving to follow the unsub, you are stopped short by the sight off to your left.

Derek is sprawled out on the floor, a desperate hand clutching where his neck met his shoulders. From where your standing, you can see the continuously growing pool of blood oozing out from under his hand. You don’t even take the time clear the rest of the room before you are rushing towards him, shouting for backup, and an ambulance in your comms link. You’re kneeling next to him, your hands covering his in a futile attempt to slow the bleeding before you even comprehend what your doing.

“Stay with me. Stay with me, Derek.” You call as you watch his eyes glass over with pain and unconsciousness. You give him a little nudge with your hip, causing his eyes to clear.

“Baby girl. I’m-” A brutal cough erupts from his chest, causing the bleeding to speed up. “I’m not gonna make it.” His words shatter your already fragile heart.

“Don’t say that Derek Morgan. You’ll make it out of this if I have anything to say about it.” You distraughtly spit out, your hands attempting to spread even further apart, to cover as much of the wound as possible. Tears slowly breach your lower eyelashes, falling steadily down your cheeks.

He weakly lifts his free hand up, using it to pull your head down to his. He presses his lips, dry, cracked, and tasting of blood, to yours. Never would you have imagined this as how your first kiss with him would go.

The kiss lasts only a moment, as another rough cough echoes through his chest. Your eyes search his, willing for this to be all a dream. You’d take having to spend the rest of your life as his friend, with him never knowing how you truly felt, over watching him die here in front of you.

“I couldn’t d-die without getting to kiss y-you.” He stammers out, the act of speaking alone taking a lot out of him.

“Shhhh. Don’t try and talk.” You sob, your chest constricting tightly as you watch the life drain out of him. “Hold on Derek. They’ll be here soon.”

He feebly shakes his head before continuing. “You’re going,” another chest-rattling cough cuts him off. “Going to have to be strong for Pen. She’s go-gonna need you.” You shake your head in an attempt to keep him from continuing, hoping in some desperate way, that if he didn’t finish, he couldn’t leave you.

He coughs again, this time causing blood to dribble out of his mouth. “Tell mom and my sis-sisters I love them.” He manages to bring his hand up to your face, caressing it lightly. “And know, if it we-were up to me, I’d spend the rest of my life with you.” His words are barely audible, but you still hear them. The significance of his words has you sobbing in earnest.

“No Derek. Don’t say that. Hang on for me. Just a little bit longer.” You hope your words will keep him until help arrives but you can see he is at the end of his rope.

“Please, please. Don’t go.” You say longingly, not ready to lose him before you even had the chance to call him your own.

As you watch his chest rise with his last breath, you see all your fantasies fall away, like dust in the wind. No longer can you see the two of you going on your first date or celebrating your first anniversary. Gone are the fantasies of lazy Saturday mornings with Derek in bed, or of the white picket fence, and the two kids. You’ll never hear him say he loves you, hear him call you his wife, or even hear him call you baby girl again.

You fall across his chest, hoping and praying that he will wake up, or that you’ll wake up and it will all be a dream. But alas, it’s no dream. Rather it’s the harsh reality that you have to spend the rest of your life without the one person you truly wanted to spend it with.

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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The NaruSaku post

@perfectkidalienpatrol asked me a two questions a couple weeks ago one about restructuring Kingdom Hearts DDD and 3 to be more emotional which you find right here < [it took time, please read. Also leave a reply on this one because it also took way too much time. Thank you 😅]

The second question is about how I would write NaruSaku, which is this post. [I rewatched 60 percent of Naruto Shippuden for this. I’m not playing games here.]

I’m gonna follow the same rules I did for KH more or less. I’m not changing 90% of any major events just certain people surrounding it and I’ll add stuff that’s not unreasonable. Most of the things I’m about to say is gonna be from Sakura’s perspective since Naruto is already in love with her and have a good of his feelings towards her. I’d also like to take a moment and say I’m a person who doesn’t believe Sakura is weak or useless, but she’s sorely underused. What makes this bad is her screen time is almost always to make others around her have more of an effect or her doing something stupid because plot. Okay, let’s get the big stuff out of the way first that lays the ground work.

Part 1 of Naruto is unchanged. (Rip Sakura, she’s still of no use here.)

The start of Shippuden, all the way up to Pain is basically the same. The thing about NaruSaku is there’s plenty of ground work in the show. The series definitely shows Sakura warming up and caring about Naruto in a variety of ways. The entire blueprint is there, Kishimoto just decided to go with Hinata.

During the Rasenshuriken training, Kakashi grabs the food pill basket from Sakura and tells her stay. Since Naruto’s training is more trial by fire and repetition, Kakashi uses his free time to train Sakura. Combat, a little ninjitsu, even tricks about genjutsu and things he’s learned about sharingan. (You know, sensei stuff)

Neji will live for obvious reasons.

Okay, so my whole thought process really starts at the point in the show where Sakura falsely tells Naruto that she loves him. At this point, the show has given tons of scenes of Sakura healing Naruto, defending the way he is, acknowledged his growth, and has him as a strong motivator do whatever she can whenever she can. All while being emotionally torn because of her love for Saskue and being faced with the reality that Naruto has been in love with her forever. The scene plays out the same with Naruto not believing her and the Saskue murder team leaving. Sakura doesn’t let it show she is deeply conflicted about telling that lie. Was it a lie? It certainly wasn’t completely truthfully. Her thoughts and feelings on Naruto had been rapidly changing and confusing her little by little since he returned to the village. All she was certain of was that Naruto was a person that had become very important to her and she didn’t want to cause him any more suffering.

Fast forwarding to Sakura encountering Saskue, the encounter is only different by Sakura confessing her honest feelings to him right on the iron bridge, telling him how she’ll join his side if he can’t find it in himself to stop being a criminal. She’s unknowingly under a genjutsu that’s letting Sakura see him in front of her, pretending to care about this conversation while he’s actually about to chidori her from behind. Sakura catches on to the trick a bit too late but was fortunately saved by Kakashi. Naruto eventually shows up, the fight happens, and we get the scene where Naruto tells Saskue that they well both die the next time they fight. Two very important things come out of this entire event. The first is Sakura’s feelings for Saskue are now shattered after he tried to kill her twice, while the other thing is Sakura’s fear of Naruto’s prediction coming true.

We get back to the village and everyone starts going their separate ways except for Naruto and Sakura, because she tells him to stay back for a moment. She takes this moment to apologize to him for what she said. The guilt about the entire thing builds more and more as she continues her apology until Sakura gets so frustrated with her own actions, or lack of action. Naruto interrupts her apology before she got too far gone into self loathing and sorrow and tells her that it’s okay. Yes, his promise is a big reason for motivating him but Naruto is also in it for himself and tries to lift some of the guilt Sakura has for all of this. In the process he ends up mentioning just how much she actually does for everyone, especially him; which only makes her feel more conflicted about everything since all of his feelings are on the table clearly for her. Sakura mentally decides she having such a kind person like him always supporting her was something she wasn’t close to being worthy of, so she would strive to be that person. Sakura decides to do one more selfish act though, she asks Naruto to stay alive through all of this. Naruto simply looks at the girl that is clearly concerned about all of this and says yes, despite not knowing just how sure he can keep this promise.

At this point in the anime there’s a lot of war preparations. In one scene there’s Sakura looking at photos of the gruesome tragedies that she should expect to see as a medical ninja. A head nurse also explains how sometimes you have to prioritize who to save. Sakura then thinks to herself in a crazy circumstance where both Naruto and Saskue are fatally wounded, who would she rush to? I’m keeping this scene but giving it new context. This thought plagues her mind not because of love, but because desire. Sakura hates to admit it but she still very much hates the idea of Saskue dying. Like Naruto, she very much wants him to come back, regardless of the heartache she feels whenever she thinks about the boy who barely gave a damn. But Sakura also has made the goal to do all she can to support Naruto the right way and the thought of leaving him to die is ludicrous. Sakura shakes off the crazy thought and focuses on the task at hand. None of those ideas matter if she can’t get stronger. I like the idea of her hitting a rut someone like Ino or Shizune coming to her aid since Tsunade is busy. One of the women reinvigorates her drive by telling Sakura how Naruto is probably pushing himself to the limit as they speak. [Nine tails is beating him up] Not just for his friends, but for the world. Sakura takes that to heart, protecting everyone is the bar, not just Naruto and her friends. Sakura decides now would be a good time and take a step back, going off to train by herself until it was actually time to head into war. Kakashi would personally be the one to get her when that time came, surprised to see a very specific part of their previous training had gotten much better along with her chakra control.

On the Naruto side of things, all the same events happen. The only thing I would add for my own personal amusement would be Naruto mentioning Sakura to his mom and how they’re similar, but Sakura has no interest in him. Kushina laughs and tells him if Sakura really is anything like herself then Naruto can’t be too sure of anything until it happens. He doesn’t understand that all but nods anyways.

War starts! All the cool fights happen and the filler. All of this is same obviously because so much is going on, including injuries. Naruto eventually joins the war and sends his clones to help everywhere. The location where Sakura is stationed is under severe condition, to the point it’s about to fall apart. Injured ninja and attacks have relentlessly assaulted the place in one form or another and the medics are running on fumes. Sakura herself is barely hanging on as another wave of injured people are in desperate need of healing. Supplies are diminished to almost nothing, staff has gotten hurt, and more white zetsu were said to be headed their way. Sakura took a moment to look at the chaos of war. The overwhelming feeling of it, the pain, how everything just kept going until something gave out. She was about to give out. Her body exhausted from being up for days treating people was finally catching up with her mind in thinking about shutting down, until she thought about Naruto. She wasn’t sure why she did, but he popped into her head, as well as the numerous times he’s pushed passed the breaking point to the finish line. Then she remembered his praise about her and her vow to catch up with him. Not yet, she couldn’t be done yet. Not while there was still everyone to protect. Sakura rallied the people she could to both attack and defend what they had left. Somehow, through all the madness, the injured had been treated and another wave was taken out. More had to be done and all who were able to move were more than willing to help the ninja that had saved their life. Unfortunately, a zetsu had snuck into the ranks and was heading right for Sakura who was far to tired to defend herself from the attack she saw coming. If she got hurt then it was game over for this unit and her, now that they had basically nothing. Sakura should’ve died on the spot but a Naruto clone had finally arrived in the nick of time, beating the zetsu in an instant. Sakura couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her body gives out and Naruto catches her in a similar way Minato catches Kushina. Naruto tells everyone how awesome it was that they held out so long and they rightfully give Sakura a majority of the credit. Naruto starts to tell her how amazing that is but she passes out. He simply chuckles and tells all of them to follow her lead. He’ll step in now and let them rest. It’s his turn to protect everyone.

The next time the show cuts back to this location is when reports of Naruto clones suddenly vanishing after many tremors and explosions have happened, giving Sakura an uneasy feeling. Minutes later word reaches them that the real Naruto is fighting the masked man and Madara. Many ninja from everywhere go ready to race off to this final battle. Sakura’s had the chance to rest and is ready to give her all in any way she can, along with so many others.

[Cool shit happens! The allied shinobi force appears!]

Neji gets injured protecting Hinata and Naruto, bringing him right to deaths door and nobody is around to help him. Naruto looks around to see all the death and destruction that leads to Obito into giving his speech. So basically I just changed this scene from Neji being dead, to Neji dying and having to be left there; causing everyone to simply accept that they have to press on and that Neji isn’t going to make it. We still get the moment of Hinata snapping Naruto out of despair and Kakashi’s elaboratetion on his meaning behind the statement “I will not allow my comrades to die.” That way we still get Kurama motivating Naruto, causing Naruto to snap Lee out of his despair and then outcome plays out like it usually does; the people rallying to attack the ten tails again with the Nine Tails Power given to them. Naruto spends up all his chakra protecting everyone and gets badly injured. I had forgotten Sakura literally gave a speech to motivate ninja to do their best protecting him while she healed him, so that was nice to see.

The Hokage show up. People are hyped. Minato asks Naruto if that’s his girlfriend, to which Naruto says yes like the goofy fool he is. Sakura still hits him for it, but blushes. Minato clearly sees a lot of Kushina in Sakura, but says vocally, instead of in his head. Naruto thinks about his conversation with his mom. Sakura just tries to stay focus.

Tiny Rant-I can’t wrap my head around why this scene actually exists. This happens after Neji’s death, a cornerstone event that pushes NaruHina greatly. Why would Kishimoto almost immediately swing back in the exact opposite direction! It paints the picture that while Naruto is extremely grateful for Hinata’s actions, Sakura is still the only girl he is interested in! Neji died for NaruHina like five minutes ago!

Saskue shows up like a cool guy. We get the moment of Naruto telling Sakura to stay back after he’s fully healed; to which Sakura tells both of them how that’s not gonna happen. Team 7 is back! Another moment I don’t have to change because the show flat out shows how happy Sakura is to be standing next to the two most important men her life. She’s by their side and fighting, they don’t feel out of reach. Sakura has her team back for once and is protecting everyone thanks to Tsunade’s training. Finally, things feet right. Until they don’t.

The battle progresses naturally. Eventually the Kagoshima show up, Obito becomes a Jinjuriki, Madara is being terrible, etc. Things are spiraling out of hand pretty quickly but everyone keeps pushing as hard as they can. Then the worst happens, the crazy scenario Sakura didn’t think was possible has suddenly became reality. She feels both Naruto and Saskue’s chakra fade away, they’re down. Madara has taken both of them down. However, now isn’t time to despair on that fact. Every second matters. Two people, fatally injured, only enough time save one. The one she promised to protect to protect, or the one she desired to come back home. Time feels like it’s come to a stand still. Sakura didn’t want to imagine a world without either of them, then it hits her instantly. Sakura has been living in a world without Saskue for years now, but Naruto, the agony of a world without him gives her an immense sorrow in her heart she refused to ever feel again. It was the same sorrow she felt when Saskue left that night years ago. The sorrow of the one you love leaving you. Sakura realizes that she does in fact love Naruto, and she isn’t about to let it fade. She will keep her promise. Sakura rushes to go save him, fearing she’s wasted enough time as it is. In actually, Sakura had made that decision in less than second. She had been running his way the moment his chakra stopped.

With the help of Gaara and Minato, Sakura is managed to save Naruto. Minato has been watching the worry the girl tried to hide and stared again how much she was like Kushina. He then thanks her for looking after his son. Sakura corrects him, giving Minato thanks for bringing someone who cares so much about her and support her into this world, despite the many slip ups and pain she has inflicted on Naruto. Minato tells her that he didn’t have to be around long to know his son must feel same sentiment towards her, if not greater. They get informed that Saskue has been recovered and receiving medical aid. Sakura feels a weight lift from her shoulders. Both of them, she still in a world with both of them.

[More craziness happens! Night Guy!!!!!! All the hype stuff!]

Naruto and Saskue are back in action! Naruto save Guy, then he gives Kakashi an eye. Everyone is impressed, but not as impressed as the moment he senses that Neji isn’t dead yet and heals him to the point he’ll live; Neji is still completely out of commission though, but it’ll be quite the surprise for Hinata, her father, and Team Guy.

More of the same stuff happens all the way up and through Kaguya. Sakura gets a little bit of emotional whiplash by Saskues actions. One minute he’s looking out for himself, the next he’s actually saves her from a threat. It’s a very confusing couple of minutes. It’s welcomed though, it’s like old times. Things just might get back to some since of it in Sakura’s eyes.

[He is so rude! Still love him though.]

Now we’re gonna skip to after Kaguya is beaten. Team 7 has saved the world. Now they just have to release the people, except Saskue is still on his nonsense. Naruto confronts Saskue about his plan to kill the Kage. Sakura could feel her heart sink. They were going to fight again. If that happened then Naruto’s prediction might come true, they would die. Naruto would die. Sakura couldn’t stand still and ran in between the two unexpectedly. Sakura pleaded to Saskue to just stop for once in his life. That if he ever cared about her and Naruto in any form, then the fighting would stop here; reminding him of what Naruto said about dying. Saskue takes a step closer and Sakura’s tearfully eyes hardened. This wasn’t going to be like last time. Sakura wasn’t going to hesitate to use force and Saskue could tell. “You really are annoying.” He says before activating a genjutsu, but it doesn’t work on her. This was it, the exact thing her training with Kakashi and by herself had been about. Constant days of intense chakra control and being trapped in various visual genjutsu that Sakura had to learn resist/breakout of. Saskue had made his answer clear, but Sakura refused to let him dismiss her like that and charged at him. She knew she was outmatched. She knew that there was only so much she could actually do against him, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. Sakura was going to stand up properly to Saskue and give everything she had to prevent an unavoidable fight. The fire in her was immense, but the fight was over in no time, ending with Saskue knocking her out from behind like when he first left her behind. Naruto was pissed and Kakashi rushed to her. All that effort and pleading from someone who wanted nothing more than to be by her comrades, tossed to the side like a leaf in the wind. The final confrontation had begun. Naruto vs Saskue.

[One exceptional fight 10/10 fight later]

Sakura has woken up and is racing to the Final Valley in absolute terror, along with Kakashi behind her. He didn’t show it but he was fearing the worst as well. He could see tears fly off of Sakura as she took off. Her mind was flooding and rejecting thoughts all at once the whole way there. All she wanted was the reality of the outcome. Whatever it was, she’d have to face it. What she faced was a miracle. The ability to save both of her friends who were definitely battered and broken, but alive. The fighting was finally over. Saskue apologized to her, noticing just how angry she stil was through her tearfully relieved expression. Sakura told him to shut up. The emotional rollercoaster she was dealing with was crazy enough as it is.

Fast forward to Team 7 at the Hidden Leaf Gate to see Saskue leave. Instead of Sakura asking to join, she walks up to him with confidence, giving both a playful and serious attitude. She holds her fist out and taps his chest. “Get into trouble and I’ll stand in your way again to knock the sense back into you.” Naruto’s jaw drops hearing that. Saskue smile then flicks her forehead. “Still annoying, thank you.” Sakura can’t help but smile back. Naruto gives Saskue his old headband and then the man sets off.

Naruto lets out a huge sigh as he walks back into the village with Sakura. He feels exhausted from the whole legal experience but there was more things to be done, but first, he was starving. He started waving goodbye to Sakura until she asks to go too, offering to pay. Naruto was shocked. His ears had to be playing tricks. He turned back around to see Sakura not directly looking at his face but she clearly talking to him. He could tell her face was a little pink too. “You know, like a date...” Sakura said, walking past him. Naruto stood motionless for a couple of seconds before catching up with her. “How about we go halfies?” Naruto asked. He had asked this same question when he asked her on a ramen date so long ago. Sakura remembers this and can’t help but giggle. The fact that she had rejected such a gesture before was embarrassing to say the least, now it was too her benefit and it was still dumb. The more things change, the more they stay the same. “It’s a date.”

The the tail end of the show where time skips gives us how they continued to grow closer and do these little dates until the moment Sakura tells Naruto that she loves him one moonlit night by the training field or academy swing. This time those words are real, and Naruto gets emotional because he finally gets to say those words back, their promises fulfilled. The final episode is their marriage. The start of their new and strongest promise to each other.

There, I’m done. In summary, what if Sakura stopped liking a person because they tried killing her and everyone she cared about. You know, sane people stuff. She’s a smart girl with critical thinking skills and able to blossom in many areas in her life, and yet the series didn’t let her fully exlpore or evolve it in the one area that arguably mattered the most. How her relationships with Naruto and Saskue. They left it one note even though many scenes and articles point into the direction of her affection towards Naruto was growing. They even paralleled her with Kushina. It’s so weird to lay all that ground if that isn’t the route. Those moments of romantic growth could’ve gone to Hinata, the one with nearly zero interaction throughout the series. I can only think of four scenes, two of them being in part 1 of Naruto. It’s weird.

Side note:If anyone is having a hard time believing Sakura could learn a way to resist genjutsu, Deidara did it with one of his eyes to deal with Itachi, and also didn’t fall of Saskue’s. You can not convince me Sakura wouldn’t learn a way, someone with far more control and an affinity for that kind of thing. Especially with the help of Kakashi. Also it’s just very thematic that the two people Saskue wanted to push away the most, could see right through him and render one of his major things useless.

#naruto uzumaki #naruto ships #naruto shippuden #narusaku #naruto talk #ask me stuff #anime #sakura haruno #saskue uchiha #naruto

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faerytale-au · 4 years

Text

A Darkness Lingers Pt.2

Word Count: 6,750 Fourth Prompt Place: During and After “Promises and Tokens” Rating: M TW: Mentions of Past Abuse Cross Posted Here Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Instead of crying or letting the hurt get to her she chose to sit on the couch, and before she knew it she was being called. “FRISK?”

She jerked in place, snapping from the daze she’d been unknowingly aiming at the wall. Forcing a smile she glanced up at Papyrus, a curious tilt of her head somehow only deepening the uncharacteristic frown on his face.

“YOUR MAGIC IS ALL OVER THE PLACE, IS SOMETHING WRONG?” Instead of answering she flicked her eyes over to the front door. Papyrus followed the look before letting out a deep sigh.

Papyrus smiled as he took a seat beside her. “IF YOU NEED TO TALK YOU KNOW I AM A VERY DILIGENT LISTENER MY DEAR SISTER.”

Like he wanted the gentle use of her new title made her smile more genuine. He could see a fragment of the tension ease from her shoulders as she looked down at the ruby ring on her hand, a concentrated furrow of her brows making his smile nearly falter.

“Were you…” She paused thoughtfully. “Do you miss your dad?”

Papyrus didn’t move, didn’t so much as breathe as he looked at her. After a moment his hands, resting unassuming on his knees, curled into tight fists even as the rest of him remained loose and relaxed in appearance.

His tone fought to keep it’s cheerful inflection. “SOMETIMES!”

And then it was hard to keep his voice steady. “Other times…”

Frisk watched as Papyrus glanced away from her, his teeth pressing together firmly as his sockets dipped with a softness she couldn’t decide on being sadness or affection. When he spoke he still kept his gaze averted, locked on a bit of peeling wallpaper he hadn’t noticed before.

Redecorating was definitely on the agenda.

“Truth Be Told...I Don’t Really Remember My Father Too Well. If There’s Anyone Who I’d Worry About Missing Him, It’d Be Sans.”

Frisk didn’t comment, and Papyrus looked back over with a timid smile. “They Were Really Close. Well Maybe Close Isn’t Right...They Both Had A Habit Of Acting Close But Being Distant. Only When They Told Me Stories Of Mom Did They Seem...Not Far Apart.”

“Sans hasn’t ever mentioned your mother.” Frisk frowned curiously. She was sure he hadn’t, trying to think over their many conversations she couldn’t even recall a moment where he might’ve hinted at her.

Papyrus chuckled so quietly she could’ve almost mistaken the laughter for Sans’s. “I’m Not Surprised. Her Passing Was Always A Sensitive Subject.”

Frisk hesitated but decided to risk asking. “What happened?”

Like a switch had been flipped a haunted look flew over the Seelie’s expression, Papyrus’s sockets dulling and turning a shade darker than she knew they could ever go. He shut them and in a very high falsetto he forced his words out.

“I Killed Her.”

Frisk thought her heart stopped.

“Her Soul Shattered While Giving Life To Me.” All she could do was stare at the floor. Frisk couldn’t think of what to say, what reassurances to give. How do you comfort someone when you hadn’t the first clue as to how they were feeling?

“I’m sorry you lost her like that…but it wasn’t your fault at all Papyrus.”

“HMM MY BROTHER OFTEN TELLS ME THE SAME THING. AND WHILE IT MAY BE TRUE...That Doesn’t Change My Personal Feelings On The Matter. IT’S JUST SOMETHING I’VE LEARNED TO DEAL WITH.” Frisk had to blink back the tears that wanted to fall from her eyes. Papyrus always seemed so cheerful and upbeat, she never would have guessed he held such pain close to his heart.

“Why do you think that?”

Here Papyrus hesitated. “Because...I’m Certain If She Hadn’t Died Our Father Would’ve Never Went Down The Path He Did…Our Lives Would Be Very Different.”

He sounded oddly like her; if she had tried harder to be good maybe dad would have loved her, if she had been a little more quiet, more invisible, maybe her mother would have cared. Maybe Frisk’s life could have been different from what it was now. They were thoughts she used to have constantly and that sometimes still plagued her at night.

Frisk didn’t like hearing something so similar coming from Papyrus.

She didn’t know what to say. Why did she never know what to say?

“Would you be happy...having your father back?”

Papyrus looked thoughtful, his expression scrunched in concentration as he thought on Frisk’s question with the most honesty he could give. He eventually shook his head and let out a huff of air.

“I’M NOT SURE. BUT I THINK SANS WOULD. STUBBORN TO ADMIT IT HE MAY BE. BUT THE PAST IS THE PAST THERE’S NO CHANGING THAT, IT’S SOMETHING WE HAVE TO ACCEPT.”

And little did he know Papyrus had just made a decision for her. Maybe...she could repay them both by offering what she had never had herself back in her world.

“Thank you Papyrus. Talking helped.” They both looked at each other in a soft and comfortable silence, his sockets taking on a less darkened hue as he unclenched his fists.

He pulled her into an unexpected hug. “ANYTIME!”

Frisk stiffened on instinct, her expression becoming awash with shock before she slowly smiled and hugged him back. Papyrus was the greatest Seelie she knew next to her husband, and he deserved everything, they both did.

Sans barely saw the grove in front of him from the ring of mushrooms; his mind was wandering and his sockets were bottomless pits. He hadn’t wanted to leave Frisk the way he had, he already felt so guilty over it, but he...couldn’t take another second talking about his old man.

It was a given he would’ve had to tell Frisk eventually. But he had wanted to do it on his own time and terms, he hadn’t wanted the reason to be because the Unseelie was plotting something.

Sans had wanted to live with Frisk in ignorance for just a bit longer.

Now all he could think about was not only how to explain his other job to his wife, but what preparations he’d have to take to prevent whatever drawback Gaster’s sudden activity would cause.

He was silently cursing himself, he was usually better prepared than this.

“Your foolish fancies will get you into trouble one day.”

The last time he’d seen Gaster in person...

How long had it been exactly? Sans couldn’t remember. He hadn’t tried too, in fact he’d gone out of his way not to think about him. But now alone and sitting with nothing to distract him his thoughts took over...the memories he’d long repressed surfaced.

He could remember vividly how angry and hurt his father had been, the way he had sounded when he’d spoken in a voice not entirely his own to condemn Gaster for what he knew was the greater good, and how broken that had made both him and his still very young and impressionable brother.

Papyrus had suffered from nightmares for years after witnessing the fight that had broken out, Sans still suffered from them on occasion with flashbacks to boot, but he handled them better now and as far as he knew Papyrus didn’t even have them anymore.

But that didn’t mean the wounds were no longer there.

Sans shut his sockets, and all he could see was how Gaster’s gaze had turned vicious and loathing when Sans had told him he was selfish. Gaster’s shock when he’d accused his old man of loving only himself without regard to his family and those around him.

Gaster had been many things...always cold, standoffish, hard to relate too. But even then Sans had known in his youth, his father had been different deep down. He had been kind, patient, and always full of a tame but strong energy that he had little doubt wasn’t where Papyrus got his own wild flame from.

Papyrus ironically took after the old bones, both of them had difficulties socially, both of them had more to them than others typically saw or bothered to look for. Sans was sure if Gaster had been there for all the years he missed, he would’ve likely loosened up and been softer, Papyrus too would have learned more decorum.

It wasn’t hard to imagine.

At least with how Gaster had been before...

There wasn’t a night where Sans hadn’t questioned if he’d done the right thing. A day where he wondered where everything had gone wrong. And Frisk had reminded him of that so painfully he had almost snapped.

He couldn’t...handle admitting his doubts.

Gaster had been his first Unseelie case, and he could still remember being horrified as his father had morphed from the corruption right in front of him and Papyrus both. His little brother in tears as Gaster’s arms had melted and evaporated away leaving behind nothing but floating hands and how his face had grotesquely cracked in a bone rattling snarl.

His father hadn’t even looked like himself anymore.

It had been too much for such a young child to see, it had been to much for himself, and it had been traumatizing in how it had made Sans wonder if he’d look like that if he ever let his own darkness take over. If Papyrus…

Sans had hated Gaster in that moment.

It had killed a part of Sans when he’d flung him through the Unseelie gate; his soul threatening to fracture under the sorrow he’d felt at the shock and surprise in his father’s gaze right before the doors had slammed shut behind him, it had also been relieving.

But Gaster had stopped caring, had stopped being the Seelie he and Paps had once so admired. He’d been a fae dedicated to family, a Seelie sought after not only for his dedicated work ethic but also for his wit when it came to negotiating and deal making.

Gaster had been the very image of their society, no less than the Queen herself.

So his darkness as it had consumed him had been not only a blow to Sans and his sibling but to their world as a whole. There wasn’t a soul alive that didn’t know about the Seelie’s fall from grace, that didn’t get told of Gaster not as someone to idolize but as a cautionary tale.

The day he’d emerged from his lab donning that haunting eye piece, his eyelight wide and pulsing with a silent victory Sans had felt sick, could tell something was off. He’d seemed so mad, entirely out of his skull with knowledge and insidious intent that had made it hard for Sans to even breathe.

Could he have done something then?

If he had tried, could he have kept Gaster on the right path?

But more than anything Sans now silently wondered...why after all this time? Why appear now and go after Frisk? Gaster never pursued anything unless it had been to his benefit or to that of his ambition.

A protective anger flared in Sans’s soul.

Was it revenge? A way to escape? As much as Sans tried he couldn’t think of a valid reason or guess the intent behind his father’s sudden interest. If he didn’t already know the drawback to going into the Unseelie realm Sans would’ve been there already confronting the other.

He refused to let Gaster ruin anything else with his greed.

A small stinging sensation tugged at Sans’s chest, pulling him from his thoughts as his eyelights came back with a harsh flare.

He clutched at his chest with a frown before pulling back his sleeve to stare down at his wedding bracelet. The moonstones along the back of it were lit up a furious red, oscillating between different shades and tones, but all meaning the same thing.

An image, sheer and thin like looking through lace flashed in his mind.

Golden doors, a hesitant step...

Frisk was before one of the gates...an Unseelie gate.

Sans felt his soul quiver, the magic between his joints tightening in panic as sweat coated his skull. She was trying to not only leave the realm but to open a gate to the corrupted fae? A possibility so logical and most likely true made him sick.

She had said she wanted to help Gaster.

Had he messed up?

Again?

Sans never should’ve been harsh to her that morning, he had never acted that way with her before, of course he would’ve upset her. Of course she’d rebel against him when he was so out of character with her.

Panic, thick and unrelentingly harsh overcame him.

He was back through the gate and rushing to shortcut in a single breath as guilt and worry shot a bolt of ice down his spine.

He prayed he wasn’t too late.

Frisk was uncertain as she stood at the abandoned post, her mouth dry and chest heaving with thick breaths. She already knew Gaster was standing on the other side, waiting. His presence she could feel like a weight on her chest.

He’d known she’d show hadn’t he?

She swallowed thickly, she didn’t know if she could even open the gate, but she was more than sure if she did not only would Sans know, but every Seelie in the realm would too.

A glance up at the thick bells hanging ominously above her made her heart give a painful skip in her chest. There were so many it felt like, but in reality only six stood guard, three to either side of the arch overhanging the entrance. All wide enough that Frisk imagined if one were to fall it could encompass a whole village in it’s depths.

Her eyes drifted down to a pair of hand prints embedded within the golden doors, one on each side of the doors seam. The tiny indentations were like specks to it’s immense stature but Frisk could feel the powerful magic swirling out from them like a hot breeze, coiling and calling with a phantom caress.

She shut her eyes as she tried to get her breathing under control.

“Second thoughts?” Frisk’s eyes snapped open and she frowned as she looked down at her hands, wispy sparks of muted fire tracing along her palms and fingers, as if her magic was trying to soothe her.

“I...need your word.”

Gaster was silent, but soon his voice was echoing in her mind again. “Has my son not taught you the dangers of an Unseelie deal?”

Frisk clenched her hands and let them fall to her sides as she stared ahead, her eyes boring into the door as if she could see Gaster just behind it smirking at her. But she refused to let his words antagonize her.

This was a front for him, she felt it in her soul, she’d seen there was more to him.

“He has, but I’m willing to bet you would never truly harm those you call family.” She couldn’t see him, but the sudden thickening of the air around her told of his annoyance...and his power. If he could cause such such a shift locked in another realm there was no doubt he could cause unfathomable damage when present. She wanted to believe in him, truly she did, but she wasn’t naive enough to overlook his taint.

“...What do you ask of me?”

“I know better than that Gaster, I know how deals work, your word or I walk away.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

“...Place one hand to the door…” Nervousness made a knot form in Frisk’s stomach but she managed to take another step forward, careful to avoid touching the spot her hand was to rest when opening the gate she pressed her palm flat and firmly to the smooth surface.

Warmth and chill mixed, curling like ghostly tendrils through the thick door to wrap her fingers and wrist. It stung, burned her flesh enough that she hissed painfully. It had never felt like this when she’d made a deal before; like her hand was slowly blistered and then quickly dunked into freezing water.

His magic was this potent?

“For my freedom, voice your request.”

Her heart hammering Frisk spoke slowly, “You are not to bring harm or death to a single soul in this realm.”

The air became suffocating, laced with bitterness and fury so engulfing Frisk covered her mouth and nose to keep from choking on the suddenly foul air. The magic binding her hand nearly had her knees give out with how intensely it constricted around her.

She’d angered him, but just as quickly as that anger had come it just as quickly soothed and withdrew. The overpowering feeling in her arm was still there but had gone down to a dulled throb.

“...Is that all you demand?” The curious tone in his voice had her shoulders hunching suspiciously.

She took a second to think over her words and was sure there were no loopholes or room for him to betray their deal, but she was still learning. Hesitantly she chose to say something else instead of trying to add to her conditions, something told her she needed to.

“That’s all I ask of you...as family.”

For a moment it felt as if Gaster had softened, something warm and yet sad filling the bond being manifested between them. If she could see him, she’d have seen how haunted he looked, how empty and bitter he was.

Gaster was to be denied even his vengeance.

...For family…

How manipulative, and thoughtful.

“I see now just how perfect for my son you are.”

Frisk wasn’t given the chance to respond as an acidic burn of pain shot up her arm and straight into her chest, sending her vision tunneling as her soul was constricted and squeezed in the onslaught of a corrupted deal struck.

Gaster felt her try to topple but his magic still scorching itself in an unseen contract kept her up and firmly on her feet. He couldn’t help the smirk on his face. The repercussions and consequences from what she’d just done caused her to suffer, which pleased the darkness in his soul.

It was just punishment for the rules she’d just imposed on him.

When he could sense the tie on her being firmly in place he released her.

Frisk crumpled, fell painfully to her knees, and tried to keep her balance by resting her hands and forehead against the doors where she panted as if she’d just ran a marathon. In all her years she’d never felt something so nasty and horrible as what had just happened.

It was almost as if she’d dirtied herself…

“Quickly now, I highly doubt my eldest didn’t feel the violation to your soul.”

Violation?

She must’ve said it out loud because Gaster answered, “An unfortunate side effect. I can explain more after you hold up your end to our agreement.”

Swallowing down what felt like cotton Frisk pushed shakily to her feet and narrowed her eyes at the door’s seal. Taking another deep breath she moved her hands into the imprinted grooves and let out a gasp as her palms settled almost perfectly into them.

A cool breeze, comforting and warm wrapped around her as her magic flared to engulf her hands and rapidly climb her body. Flames that didn’t burn or singe flowed around her and flared into a fiery typhoon, whipping her clothing and hair as if she was caught in a hurricane.

“That’s it! Focus Frisk.” Gaster’s encouraging call echoed.

She squeezed her eyes shut as they began to burn, tears running from their corners only to be lifted into the air in a bizarre loss of gravity. The air distorted and bent, a heatwave or time magic rapidly grew the grass at her feet and wilted it before reverting it rapidly to a youthful green.

She--she didn’t know if she go on--the doors gave but it felt like her energy was a battery, fluctuating between full and powerful to weak and drained--

No!

She...she could do this!

Frisk could set Gaster free; she could give Papyrus and Sans their father back. She could prove she was more than just Sans’s wife and a human, she was capable of so much more than sitting around day in and out with nothing but the worry and fear of being a burden that being a mage brought.

She could prove she was more than anyone had ever given her credit for.

Frisk cried so loudly her voice rose above the ringing the bells began to give as she poured all her frustration and deep buried regret into pushing the door’s apart. Foul wind and diseased air bathed her in cascading flows of evil intent that made her almost collapse with nausea.

Another inch--

And she fell, her magic going out as the doors swung wide enough Gaster reached forward and caught her easily. Moving quickly he passed the entry way and glared back at the feral Unseelie that had been alerted, their charging forms barely visible before Gaster coalesced his magic and slammed the doors back shut with a resounding crack of thunder.

Frisk was gasping and barely coherent as Gaster knelt with her and pressed his forehead to her own. She shivered as a feeling pushed in and started to replenish her but nearly made her gag at the bile it raised in the back of her throat.

Despite how gross it felt her breathing evened out, and thankfully Gaster pulled back before standing fully again. His hold on her only released once he was sure she could stand without shaking. It took her a second to get her thoughts straight but once they were she looked up at him cautiously.

“Thank you.” He hummed before turning.

Frisk froze.

Sans was still and at a distance but his whole frame tensed the moment his eyelights locked with Gaster. She watched as his sockets narrowed in disbelief and his grin trembled at the edges.

Gaster looked amused.

Her heart dropped.

Frisk felt the air take on a sudden chill, ice spiraling out from the bottoms of Sans’s feet to coat the ground as the wind picked up and billowed his cloak and clothing. Her husband’s smile, so often soft and adoring, suddenly widened and...felt as if it went empty of all feeling.

A bolt raced down her spine as his eyelights snuffed out, the left socket flaring bright like a raging inferno lit up with yellow and blue light coalescing violently in hostile intent. She was shocked as Sans spoke with the voice that she heard in her dream.

“Y O U D O N ‘ T B E L O N G H E R E.”

Gaster’s smirk dropped.

“Sans wait please!” Frisk tried but her plea died in her throat as he glanced over at her, the weight of the power she could feel in his gaze suffocating and stalling her thoughts.

It felt like he was seeing right through her.

Frisk locked in place, her and Sans both staring at each other with vastly different expressions and intent. There was apprehension and...she didn’t have a name for the way his face shone with false warmth in his smile but yet felt so condemning.

She didn’t know rather to be afraid...or worried.

Gaster took the opportunity to slip an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side, the abrupt motion jarring her enough into breaking eye contact as she looked up at Gaster.

It seemed to be enough to affect Sans.

Instantly his eyelight went out and he looked absolutely petrified as the whirling wind of his magic died. The sight of his wife in his deranged father’s arms sent such a painful spike through his soul that he had to fight not to let the magic in his joints constrict.

“don’t you dare--” Gaster gave a dismissive snort.

“So, it seems the risk to her well-being is what can temper you, duly noted.” Frisk tensed but the reassuring rub of his thumb into her shoulder relaxed her. The gesture was unexpected and it confused her how such warmth could come from him while he still glared Sans down, bitterness and cold detachment livid in his one good socket.

Sans glanced over at her and then back to Gaster, like hell he’d risk Frisk’s life for his job let alone his anger.

His demeanor became forced as he hitched his grin higher in one corner and held his hands up in a shrug. “no need to get so handsy, why don’t we go ahead and sit down for a talk. seelie were we can compromise?”

Frisk perked up hopefully but Gaster wasn’t fooled by the sudden attitude change. He could see his son’s tell with the magical sweat drop that subtly slid down the side of his skull.

Unlike Papyrus, Sans wasn’t good under pressure, it’s why he so often relied on his magical abilities when push came to shove in high tension situations.

An unfortunate flaw in his eldest.

“Your acting is about as poor as your puns, lacking in dedication and effort,” Sans’s expression darkened. “Rather disappointing given our race. But not nearly as disappointing as the thought you’d honestly believe me capable of intentionally hurting my daughter-in-law.”

It took Sans a moment to register Gaster’s words and slowly his body unwound as he blinked in confusion. Of course he thought that, if he could betray both him and Papyrus when they were younger, what was stopping him from hurting Frisk who he didn’t even know?

Sans wasn’t stupid.

Frisk took a deep breath and her voice was gentle.

“I’m sorry I hurt you by bringing Gaster here.” Sans’s skull whipped in her direction and he looked as if she’d slapped him but she continued, her eyes bright with her determination that it kept him rooted to the spot in which he stood.

“He just...misses you and Papyrus, his home. Don’t you miss him too?”

Slowly Sans’s eyelights panned over to his old man’s face, and the slight twitch of his frown, the way he had a hand absently adjust his monocle was telling. If only Sans couldn’t see the grudge his father still carried on his soul he might have relented.

But Gaster’s sins were countless.

He looked back over to Frisk, his kindhearted and stubborn wife, with a gaze soft but somber. It was too late for what she was trying to accomplish. Gaster was banished, an Unseelie who refused to give up the very conviction that corrupted him.

A Fae that had sacrificed everything that should have been precious.

“frisk--you can’t save him.”

She looked ready to defy him but he cut her off. “surely even he’s told you that.” He shot Gaster a glare. “my old man has always made it a point to make sure everyone knows reality from fiction.”

Gaster...looked away as his hand tightened on Frisk’s shoulder only the slightest bit.

If he hadn’t been holding her she would have thought he was ignoring the way Sans was speaking about him, indifferent to how hurt and angry his son sounded. And though she could tell he was becoming more angry himself, more tempted to lash out still he held to his word and didn’t.

“my old man died years ago frisk.” She could sense the ache, but it sounded so final.

Frisk looked down at her feet as she collected her thoughts before facing her husband again. Sans’s sockets were locked on Gaster but his attention was so clearly on where she was held it was impossible to miss the nervousness with which he hid his hands in his cloak.

Seeing how distressed he was it felt as if she’d wronged him, and doubt began to settle in her chest. Was she really doing the right thing? Couldn’t everyone be saved? She didn’t know what to think.

Frisk felt herself fade out, the world turning grey and loud. Shadows both sharp and blurred ran across her vision as hopelessness and desperation struggled with the fire of her hope and fought to quench her resolve.

She felt her body vanish.

Sans almost flinched at the cold and detached look that took over her face, it was horrifying to him how washed out her skin turned with her eyes going so dull it felt as if her soul had fled. It hit him in the most painful way to watch her wilt like a doll whose strings had been cut, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as her words.

“You saved me…” She muttered through numb lips.

And that made him question...if he actually had.

Gaster looked down at her, a mix of intrigue and surprise quirking one of his bony brows as he took in her state. It twisted Sans’s magic with disgust as he recognized the look in his father’s sockets.

no, don’t look at her with curiosity, like something to dissect, this isn’t--this wasn’t okay--

“sweetheart, that’s not the same thing, not by a long shot.” His words were hushed, gentle as if she might shatter. He wasn’t even aware that he’d gotten closer until Gaster held a hand out between them and nearly touched him.

Sans fought not to instinctually lash out with magic and shot Gaster a deadly look, but it went ignored as his father fully turned and adjusted Frisk to face him at arm’s length.

The longer Frisk stared at nothing and Gaster examined her the more Sans felt his anxiety grow, the more he tried to come up with a way to separate them without somehow accidentally harming her.

Eventually, “Ah, you’re traumatized. Classic dissociation associated with PTSD.”

Then Gaster did something Sans hadn’t witnessed since he was a child.

The former scientist got down on his <em>knees</em> and kept his gaze intentful and measuring as he spoke with the same authoritative voice he’d often used when he’d had to calm Sans down in his worst moments.

“Memories and feelings are just the mind’s way of storing information. None of that applies to the here and now, you don’t need to remember Frisk. Focus.”

”Family is everything Sans, greater than even yourself, never forget that.”

Sans felt his soul give a violent thrum and he had to do everything he could not to take his sockets off of Frisk. He hadn’t thought back on his father’s encouraging words in years. But now it was all he could think about as Gaster worked to bring his wife out of her stupor.

The doubt he’d carried all this time in the back of his skull came to the forefront.

Had Gaster...wavered in his depraved dedication? Was he changing? Had he...ever changed really? It was so hard to believe anything else as Frisk’s eyes slowly began to brighten, and her lashes fluttered away her daze.

Sans felt his stance on his father give.

Frisk sucked in a breath as her body lit up with warmth and her mind slowly cleared. She was confused to see Gaster kneeling in front of her but that quickly turned into mild embarrassment as he smirked at her.

“Good.”

Soon as she was coherent Sans moved to hold her, but was met with Gaster stepping forward and blocking the way. His guard went up, and the softness Sans had felt bloom in his chest hardened upon seeing his Father’s malicious smile.

Frisk stiffened at the sudden mood shift. “Gaster, we had a deal!”

“And we still do my dear.” He chuckled. “Nowhere did you state I couldn’t fight him.”

Frisk reached forward, her hands grasping and burying within the smoke that composed Gaster’s form as she tried her best to gain his full attention, anything to buy her precious seconds to try and convince him not to go through with the sudden whim.

Gaster however simply peered over his shoulder at her, “That’s enough of that, stop acting so childish.” and spawned a hand into being.

“frisk!” Sans panicked and tried vainly to teleport to her but found himself frozen in place, a dark and corrupted purple surrounding and suffocating his soul. Gaster looked back towards his son with a shrug as he snapped his fingers.

Frisk’s eyes went wide as dark light erupted from the ground around her, exploding upward and encasing her in a dome of pure blackness. Her cry went muffled and silent as it formed a cocoon around her, flipping and deafening her senses.

Sans began to sweat as he visibly struggled to break free, “F R I S K!”

His old man had gotten stronger through the years.

Gaster took a step forward, the last five of his hands appearing and enlarging as he prepared for combat. Sans was gasping, his eyelight bright and flaring with rage. His father was unperturbed and merely looked at him boredly.

“Is that all you plan to do? Act dramatic for your human? Come, let’s see what the years have taught you my boy. Best hurry.” He gave a snide smile. “Dear Frisk has, at best fifthteen minutes of air.”

Sans’s smile went so wide it threatened to crack his skull.

He should’ve known better. He should’ve acted as soon as he’d seen Gaster had returned.

Instead Sans had let nostalgia and his worry for Frisk make him weak.

The air turned chill, frost and snow whipping into a flurry around him as he glared his father down with tears in his sockets...as his second eyelight lit up with equal power to the first.

Gaster smirked as he easily dodged the first barrage of bones, his body morphing and shifting to allow the ring of projectiles through his form without a single scratch. He chuckled as Sans took the opportunity to break the hold his magic had on him and shortcut away.

Predictable.

The taller fae didn’t even have to turn as a frustrated cry echoed from behind him. Smirking he looked over to the shorter Seelie’s enraged snarl as a thick wall of impenetrable darkness kept him back from where Gaster held Frisk hostage.

“Fourteen minutes.” He taunted.

Sans’s shoulders slumped as if in defeat but Gaster easily sensed the pool of magic building beneath him and leapt, just barely missing a circle of sharpened bones protruding from the ground in a spray of cold fog.

“Ah, intending to actually kill me are we?” Sans slowly turned to face him, one hand still firmly pressed to the wall between him and his wife, his smile gone and replaced with a firm line.

“let her go old man. i didn’t like your games when i was a kid, and i don’t like them now.”

Gaster frowned and leveled a cruel glare at him. “Who says I’m playing?”

Sans vanished, the area around Gaster becoming awash in black before snapping into sharp clarity as the judge swung an elongated humerus bone. Gaster dodged with ease and the area once more turned black before returning with Sans coming down from above.

“Your shortcut’s effects will only do so much to aid you.” He remarked as an equally cold black wall of bones spawned above him blocking his son’s blow. Shards of ice like that of shattered glass rained down, catching the glow of Gaster’s corrupted magic and reflecting it with ethereal light as he shot Sans a narrowed smirk.

“Stop being lazy.”

Sans’s eyelights flared and quicker than Gaster could blink reality dissolved and snapped back in furious and rapid succession.

The monocle Gaster wore lit up and pulsed.

A blow aimed from the side, met with a gigantic palm.

Bones from beneath his feet while Sans struck from behind, blocked and evaded.

His son’s frustrated smile going wider as he summoned a blaster and fired only made him chuckle at how childish the Seelie’s ultimate defender looked as the powerful beams were easily absorbed by the holes in his hands.

Each time Sans tried to strike or entrap him Gaster simply thought ahead of him and prevented it, his monocle allowing him to peer moments into the course of his son’s actions to determine the best way to counter.

Gaster would be lying if he didn’t admit he was mildly disappointed.

This fight was too easy.

The moment Sans appeared again and lunged at him, humer raised in defiance, Gaster merely glanced up and shot a hand out from the darkness of his body.

Sans was shocked as he was locked in place, his forehead glistening with magical sweat as the hand, thoroughly cracked like a jigsaw puzzle and looked as if it was barely held together kept him from finishing his attack.

Apparently his father had seven hands instead of six. Sans wondered if he’d bothered trying to salvage it as a reminder of just how angry and bitter he was at him. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

Sans felt his arms strain as he pushed the humerus stubbornly against it.

Gaster knew he had won, all without barely lifting a finger, he could see it in the way Sans’s smile threatened to falter as it wobbled in the uppermost corner. Logically this was where he should stop. He had made a deal with Frisk after all.

But this was so tempting.

Before him was the very reason he’d been forced to suffer more than he had even when they’d all been locked in the void, the Seelie responsible for sending him to a place where he couldn’t feel the call of nature or the binding of magic that composed their very existence.

Sans could’ve purified him years ago...instead he had chosen to send him away.

He had damned him.

“I owe Frisk an apology.” He stated lowly.

Sans’s sockets narrowed in confusion and Gaster’s smile broke into a horrifying and twisted leer as his glee and eagerness outshone the calm composure he'd maintained throughout the entire confrontation. “...For making her a widow.”

Sans barely registered the words as Gaster’s palms rose up to encircle him from all directions, their hollow centers lighting up as they prepared to eviscerate him. He went to shortcut but his soul was pinged as Gaster used his magic to cancel his own.

Pulling from his magic started to exhaust him as he summoned another rain of bones but groaned as Gaster once more scattered and shattered them before they could impact. Sans didn’t even have the energy to call another blaster.

His sockets slammed shut as he tried to think but he kept coming up short on figuring out a way to escape, his magic was racing along his leylines and he was gasping as the world went impossibly silent except for the roar of his incoming death.

...Was..was he really this weak?

He didn’t realize he was so out of practice.

Couldn’t he manage to protect one person?

Sans opened his sockets and looked up passed the Unseelie to the wall standing between him and Frisk, his soul shuddering in agony as he envisioned her floating unconscious and vulnerable, completely at another’s mercy without anyone to help if she cried out for it.

His frisky…

His wife…

Sans could only ever fail to be there when she needed him.

A shout pulled Sans from his spiraling thoughts and he whipped his head around just in time to see a giant orange bone come flying and connect sharply with the side of his father’s skull.

Gaster was caught off guard, his body lurching and soaring with barely any effort into the wall of a building that broke and collapsed around him in a grotesque version of a fairy mound. Sans fell to his knees as Gaster’s magic broke and looked up with relief.

“hey bro...what took you so long?”

Undyne was smirking along with the rest of the guard as Papyrus slowly lowered his hand, his magic thick and undulating around him in a burnt orange aura as his cape levitated beyond gravity's hold in crusted ice.

Papyrus frowned. “HONESTLY BROTHER, YOU KNOW I DETEST FIGHTING.”

Sans smiled, battle ready and bringing backup?

His bro was the coolest.

#frans #sans x frisk #gaster

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