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tillidontneedfantasy · 3 years

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A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 9th Studio Album: ‘evermore’

“My collaborators and I are proud to announce that my 9th studio album and folklore’s sister record is here. It’s called evermore,” is how Taylor Swift introduces us to this album in its foreword. One might assume a “sister record” would entail b-sides, or tracks that didn’t quite make the cut for folklore, despite Taylor’s explanation that “we just couldn’t stop writing songs.” evermore’s release came at a strange time, upon the heels of the Folklore: Long Pond Studio Sessions film on Disney+, as well as 5 Grammy nominations for folklore. The world still captivated by folklore, it’s understandable why one might not consume evermore as critically. Even as a die-hard fan, I felt some whiplash by this announcement; I am still processing folklore! Hell, I’m still processing reputation!

If this was the Taylor from two years ago, this may have been a big enough fear of hers to hold off on releasing evermore. But as she explained upon folklore’s surprise release, life is too unpredictable now, and there are zero givens or guarantees. So she followed the same path this time (although making sure it fell in line with her birthday weekend). But it’s not just the strategic timing of the release that she’s thrown out the window for now, but also her mindset whilst making records. As she explains in the evermore album foreword,

“I’ve never done this before. In the past I’ve always treated albums as one-off eras and moved onto planning the next one as soon as an album was released. There was something different with folklore. In making it, I felt less like I was departing and more like I was returning. I loved the escapism I found in these imaginary/not imaginary tales. I loved the ways you welcomed the dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found. So I just kept writing them.”

This is a revelation for Swift, to let the music lead her into artistic freedom, which is what makes evermore such a triumphant return. Truly folklore’s sister record, Taylor wrote evermore with the same creative team: Aaron Dessner of The National (Swift’s favorite band), long-time pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, and William Bowery aka Swift’s boyfriend, Joe Alwyn (as officially revealed in the Long Pond Studio Sessions). Additionally, former 1989 tour openers and close friends of Taylor, the HAIM sisters, join the crew, along with Marcus Mumford for some dreamy backup vocals.

The production is just as wistful and mesmerizing as it was on folklore, yet the storytelling on evermore is kicked up a notch, expanding on the topics and worldbuilding established in its sister record, with even sharper lyrics and an effective and elaborate use of alliteration. The best thing about Taylor is that no matter what she does, her masterful lyricism is always at the heart of her art, and somehow, she keeps getting better. Once again, I wanted to explore the rich stories she’s crafted in this woodsy universe. This is how I’ve interpreted the album, but I hope you find your own meaning in the songs as well.

1. willow It is fitting that the opening track to folklore’s sister album, where we wade further into the forest that is Taylor Swift’s imagination and storytelling, would center on the type of tree that is a symbol of hope, belonging, safety, stability, and healing. “willow,” one of the few more obviously autobiographical tracks on the album, is a hymn of gratitude for her man (as she wants you to know, yes, thirteen times), Joe Alwyn, and how the invisible string tethering them together pulled her to him in a time when everyone else was counting her out. Though not as present on many of the other songs later to come on this record, you can feel the lightness in her heart on this song as she embraces the way in which the willow has bent, wrecking her plans, throwing her into the water and leaving her happily lost and afloat in his current. The downward key modulation throughout the last two repetitions of the chorus is beautiful and very fitting for Swift vocally, but also sounds like the feeling of finding your comfort and settling into it, basking it in while you wait for the next place the wind pulls you. Best lyric: “Now this is an open/shut case / I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face / Every bait and switch was a work of art.”

2. champagne problems On the second track of the album, Taylor dives back into the fictional worldbuilding she began to explore on folklore. While on folklore high school relationships and dramatics took center-stage, evermore graduates from adolescence to young adulthood, not that it is any easier emotionally on the listener’s heart. “champagne problems” chronicles a rejected marriage proposal between two college sweethearts at their old dorm building. Taylor sings as the narrator, a reflective, self-deprecating young woman who jokes about belonging in a madhouse and dismisses all her turmoil as champagne problems. The term ‘champagne problems’ itself could have various meanings here: their trivial concerns, the fact that their “sister splashed out on the bottle” of champagne that they will not be using to celebrate as they had hoped, or perhaps it could even hint that excessive drinking is a piece of all the ways the narrator is “fucked in the head,” as they said. Although the person she is singing to is the one who got hurt in the story, the hurt in the narrator’s heart is just as palpable and relatable, because you only have yourself to blame when you self-destruct. Best lyric: “’She would’ve made such a lovely bride, / what a shame she’s fucked in the head,’ they said / but you’ll find the real thing instead / she’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.”

3. gold rush On her YouTube live chat prior to the album’s release, Taylor explained that this song “takes place inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it.” The daydream consists of a love story so pure that the town had never seen such a thing; it could only happen in a fantasy for the narrator. How could she possibly have the gall to call them out on their contrarian shit, or end up with her Eagles t-shirt hanging from their door, when they are so coveted by all, and when she cannot withstand the thought of even competing? She sings, “My mind turns your life into folklore / I can’t dare to dream about you anymore,” a sweet little connecting piece to this album’s older sister, effectively convincing herself out of the idea of jumping into the chaos of the gold rush because even inside her own imagination it’s too dangerous. Best lyric: “I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush.”

4. ‘tis the damn season According to Aaron Dessner, Taylor had written the lyrics for “’tis the damn season” in the middle of the night amidst their Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions recording after a long night of chatting and drinking with their co-conspirator, Jack Antonoff. The lyrics perfectly encapsulate the guttural ache the track evokes. It is a tale of two people who always find their way back to one another in their hometown, which acts as the ever-returning fork in the road. The path taken, back to L.A. in pursuit of her dreams, is the one she chose and continues to choose, but whenever she returns home, she takes a ride down the road not taken, just to get a taste of what could have been, even if just for the weekend. What starts off as an icy homecoming always transforms into the warmest intimacy. The success of this track is aligned with the success of Taylor’s entire career; even with such specific details, it feels so deeply personal to the listener. You know the street you’d drive along late at night laughing, the spot you’d park the car, the person who stars in every what-if. You will never really know if the road not taken is as good as it seems, but that might be ok; sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality, anyway. Best lyric: “It’s the kind of cold / fogs up windshield glass, but I felt it when I passed you / There’s an ache in you / put there by the ache in me.”

5. tolerate it Inspired by the novel Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, “tolerate it” is an agonizing track from the perspective of a devoted wife who polishes plates and paints portraits and waits by the door for her husband with a battle hero’s welcome, who at best tolerates all her adoration. There are few things as painful as idolization being met with indifference, when you have all this love to give to someone who just leaves it there untouched. “tolerate it” captures that desperation for the approval you know will never arrive, but you sit and watch, waiting for it just in case you’re wrong, but you know you’re not. Best lyric: “I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life / drawing hearts in the byline”

6. no body, no crime feat. HAIM “no body, no crime,” the one evermore song solo-written by Taylor, has the clearest plot from beginning to end. In the same vein as the female powerhouse country classic “Goodbye Earl” by The Chicks, Taylor is out for blood to avenge her friend, Este (named for one of the HAIM sisters). The story goes as such: Este’s husband kills her for calling him out on his infidelity, and then Taylor kills the husband and frames his mistress. The HAIM girls, who are long-time friends of Taylor’s and former touring mates, lend their vocals to reinforce the accusation on the husband and to provide Taylor’s alibi. “no body, no crime” is so far the closest we’ve gotten to a return to “country Taylor,” proving that she is still the master of a killer country tune (yes, pun intended, it had to be done I’m sorry). Best lyric: “Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with me / (she was with me, dude) / Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy”

7. happiness Written a week before the album’s release, “happiness” is one of Swift’s strongest and most reflective breakup songs. Although she writes it as though it is recent, there’s a lot of power in knowing that she’s been happily in love for four years, and that she is even better now at doing the thing that has always been best at. She is finally “above the trees,” as she sings, and is able to see it all for what it is, but her character is still in the heat of it all, trying to navigate the stages of grief when a relationship ends. We see the narrator grapple with many of those stages throughout the song. Most striking is the anger displayed in the second verse when she sings: “I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you / No, I didn’t mean that, / sorry, I can’t see facts through all of my fury.” That section is jarring and feels like one of the most honest moments in a Taylor song, the insanely difficult emotional balancing act when we are grieving a relationship. The devastation of loss can distort our perception, and a part of that is the difficulty of understanding how multiple seemingly opposing things can co-exist in our hearts, such as happiness because of someone and happiness after them. But when you leave it all behind and finally find your place above the trees, you can find happiness after someone and also look back and appreciate the happiness they once provided. Both of these things can be true. Best lyric: “Showed you all of my hiding spots / I was dancing when the music stopped.”

8. dorothea Taylor Swift has the uncanny ability to create such developed and well-rounded characters with such little information, which is what makes her storytelling so compelling. In “dorothea,” we learn much about the title character through the narrator’s eyes, and the relationship they once had. The lyric “skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes” alone tells an entire story in itself. “dorothea” is also the companion song to “’tis the damn season,” just from the other person’s perspective, which helps shine even more light on the story. The narrator of “dorothea” reveres her but wonders if she’s still the same soul in L.A. as she was back in their never-changing town. Whatever the answer, they’re still willing to support her no matter where she is, but she’s always welcome back in Tupelo by her hometown love’s side if she ever just wants to be herself rather than someone known for who they know. Besides, they’re the only soul who can tell which smiles she’s faking. And you can always return to the road not taken. Best lyric: “They all wanna be ya / but are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? / Well, I guess I’ll never know / and you’ll go on with the show.”

9. coney island feat. The National What really started the folklore / evermore journey was Taylor’s love for The National. Taylor has cited them as one of her favorite bands for many years, and as we know, this led to her beautiful new collaborative relationship with Aaron Dessner. So it would make sense for the track written with the intention of this duet to be so well executed; you can feel the love and care Taylor put into writing this song. In her press for these sister albums, she has spoken about trying to channel frontman Matt Berninger’s writing style. But what actually happened was she just produced her own signature lyricism at its sharpest. “We were like the mall before the internet, it was the one place to be / the mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams / sorry for not winning you an arcade ring over and over,” is a hall of famer Swift-ian lyric. “coney island” explores the confusion, hurt, and self-reflection when a passionate affair burns out fast because you did not prioritize that person. And to top it off, Swift and Berninger’s harmonies are achingly beautiful, transporting you right there in the story, on the bench, wondering, over and over. Best lyric: “Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? / Will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?”

10. ivy Leave it to Taylor Swift to make a song about an affair sound so romantic, and so sympathetic to the narrator, that you’re rooting for adultery. “ivy” tells the tale of a woman in a lifeless marriage, likening her home with him to the tombstone that the widow in town visits each day. I like to think this is the same wife whose husband was out there building other worlds without her in “tolerate it,” because then that means she found someone who celebrates her love, who holds her pain for her, who blooms all over her; they started it, but she’s fighting for it all the way to the end, nonetheless. “ivy” showcases Swift’s gorgeous vocals and her sharp lyrics, with a melody so infectious it is bound to permanently plant its roots in your dreamland. Best lyric: “Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland / my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

11. cowboy like me With the beautifully blended backing vocals of Marcus Mumford, “cowboy like me” is an entrancing love story of two con artists who lost at their own game and got conned into forever with each other. She’d gone from swindling old men for their money and fancy cars to falling victim to the danger of dancing with someone who only has eyes full of stars, and she knows she’ll pay for it. “cowboy like me” is one of the most romantic tracks on the record, proving that life never plays out quite as we plan. Best lyric: “Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon / with your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con.”

12. long story short One of the more pop-sounding tracks on evermore, “long story short” is pretty much a summary of the long story behind reputation (2017). The song is filled with various metaphors for her reputation crumbling around her, and then finally putting her defenses down to be with her lover, someone as “rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky.” It is a sweet ode to her boyfriend, and a gentle comfort to her past self that it will all work out. But it is also an oddly relatable example of how we shrug off our struggles and minimize them to just a “bad time,” when the time she is singing about was obviously something that deeply affected her (as will be further explored in the title track); but sometimes it actually feels good to just shrug it off as just a blip in your life, because at the end of the day, you survived, and that’s what counts- even if you’re not keeping score anymore. Best lyric: “Pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy. / Now I’m all about you.”

13. marjorie Whereas track 13 on folklore was a tribute to Swift’s paternal grandfather, evermore’s track 13 is a tribute to her maternal grandmother, Marjorie Finlay, who was an opera singer in the 50s, and passed away in 2003 when Taylor was 13 years old. “marjorie” is quite possibly the most touching track Taylor has ever written thus far in her career. Grief is one of the most difficult topics to tackle in a song; the genius of “marjorie” is that it is simple, yet not understated. Swift reflects on the profound lessons she learned from her grandmother, about the difficult balances of kindness and cleverness, and politeness and power. She curses herself for not cherishing the moments she had with her, for complaining rather than understanding in the moment how admirable her spirit was, for all the amber skies she’d love but will never see. The chorus, blunt and hard-hitting, reminds us that someone does not have to be living to be alive, to be all around, to be with us. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now,” Taylor sings towards the end of the song, right before you hear a sample of Finlay’s opera singing in the background, a truly eye-swelling moment. It is clear that Finlay played a pivotal role in Swift’s own ambitions, as she sings, “all your closets of backlogged dreams, and how you left them all to me.” Marjorie knew she was leaving them in good hands. If you haven’t yet, check out the moving lyric video for the song, where you can see photos and video clips of Marjorie, both throughout her career and in her time with Taylor. Best lyric: “Never be so polite you forget your power, / never wield such power you forget to be polite.”

14. closure On the most experimental track musically on the record, Taylor writes off her need for closure from a relationship of some sort, whether it be romantic or platonic or business, all of which can cause hurt of equal intensity. The subject of the song is trying to make nice with Taylor, and she is just not having it, as it is not coming from a genuine place, but rather to ensure that their life remains picture perfect, or to clear their guilty conscience, or to preserve their own ego. This is a deeply relatable sentiment; as valuable as forgiveness can be, sometimes the person who hurt you just doesn’t deserve it, and all you can do is forgive yourself for blocking their number or shredding their letters. Best lyric: “I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life / staying friends would iron it out so nice.”

15. evermore feat. Bon Iver To close out the standard edition of the album, Taylor joins forces once again with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, with whom she collaborated on the Grammy-nominated duet, “exile” for folklore. However, Swift leads most of the track this time, lamenting the difficult time she went through in 2016. The piano and Swift’s vocals are haunting, particularly when she describes this time in her life as “catching my death,” consumed by a pain that she feels will never end. If you’ve ever been depressed, you know what that feels like, and the dark places it leads you. Although she is singing about a time four years prior, it sounds so present, and it is heartbreaking to hear her in such a state. When Bon Iver comes in, the tempo of the song picks up, the piano riff becomes more erratic, like a winter storm hitting you in the face, and he voices all the anxieties of the cost of such a downfall. But through those anxieties, Taylor finds not a cure, but an anchor in love, and then the tempo slows back down. By the end of the song, Taylor has the foresight to understand that although it may not feel like it now, the pain she is experiencing is not permanent (a sentiment my therapist has been trying to instill in me for years). In her Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Taylor explained how the lyrics parallel the times we are in currently, and so it feels really special to have the album end with someone who knows how it feels to be imprisoned by your pain gently comfort us with the wisdom that “this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” I hope one day soon, as we leave 2020 far behind, we can all truly believe her. Best lyric: “I was catching my breath / barefoot in the wildest winter catching my death.”

16. right where you left me (bonus track) The first bonus track on evermore, “right where you left me,” captures a moment so earth-crushing, a piece of you is trapped in it forever. In this song specifically, the narrator finds herself stuck in the same corner of a restaurant where she was told by someone she loved that they had met someone else. “Glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on,” she sings in mourning. We have all experienced those moments that we could teleport back to if we just closed our eyes; the scenery, what you wore, the smell and taste of the season, the very point in your body where it felt like your insides were collapsing. Or that one particular person, who is long-gone from your life but seeing them is like time-travelling back to that person you once were, ready to pick up where you left off. But as much as you want to stay in that moment forever, just in case it changes in your favor, the cold reality is that the world stops for no one. Best lyric: “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness / And it’s been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong / I’m right where you left me.”

17. it’s time to go (bonus track) “right where you left me” was Taylor’s cry for help to get out of restaurant, and “it’s time to go” is the answer to the call, as she sings in the first line, “when the dinner gets cold, and the chatter gets old / you ask for the tab.” This song is about gathering the strength to leave situations and relationships behind that no longer serve you. She grieves the betrayal of someone she thought to be a twin from her dreams (almost definitely referring to former friend, Karlie Kloss), acknowledges that keeping a marriage together for the sake of the kids often actually has the opposite intended effect (possibly- but not certainly- something she and her brother experienced), and recounts attempting to bargain with someone consumed by greed, only able to leave with herself (absolutely referring to the end of her fifteen-year long business relationship with Scott Borchetta, her former record-label owner). But as painful as leaving all of those situations was, Taylor has gained the wisdom to understand that walking away sometimes takes as much strength as persevering. You can’t stay at the restaurant, or at the mercy of someone else forever; you have to forge your own path, even if it’s in the opposite direction of what you envisioned for so long. And even with all her past success behind her, as folklore and evermore have proved, there is so much more ahead of her. Best lyric: “That old familiar body ache, the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul / You know when it’s time to go.”

In a time where we are all trapped in our homes and in our heads, the folklore/evermore experience has been the sweetest escape. If anything, the creation of these wonderful sister records has taught me that our most powerful tool in times of distress is our own imagination. Even just the ability to close my eyes while listening to one of these tracks and feel the character’s story is a gift. The way I’ve always been able to pick up Harry Potter and escape to Hogwarts when I’ve felt alone and friendless, I can listen to folklore and evermore when I feel scared or hopeless and escape into this enchanted forest Taylor has built, where I can climb above the trees and see it all for what it is. I feel so lucky to watch Taylor’s imaginative world unravel around me. I can’t wait to see what she creates next.

DISCLAIMER – REVIEWER’S BIAS: I would literally die for this bitch. ��

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blush-and-books · 3 years

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always you-shaped thoughts inside my head

so, we found wonderland, the amazing fanfic by @pink-flame ended this week. as a result of my deep and sorrowful mourning, i wrote a fanfic for a fucking fanfic. yes, everyone, we have reached that point. so if you’re one of the unfortunate souls who hasn’t read it then you can start here and do not read this if you don’t want spoilers babes!!!!

anyways, i don’t want to talk about how much i cried when i wrote this. moving on. title from find u again by mark ronson ft. camila cabello and once again THANK YOU @pink-flame FOR THIS WORK, I LOVED IT, I LOVE YOU, ENJOY

A/N: the first part of this is a reimagining of a scene from the story, and the second part is more of a deleted scene. grab tissues if you’re one who cries easily. also tagging @bluefirewrites because i kept texting you while writing this

Julie doesn’t know in what timeline she thought that going to the bookstore would be a good idea.

Even with her back flat against the wall and Luke’s book clutched identically between her hands and the palms of every other eager fan in the room, she felt like she was too close. Like this was a mistake.

She was the one who insisted they don’t look for each other.

But here they were. Him, with a poem that crossed time with the silent, lost plea for her to come back to him; her, who chose to answer the call even if she knew she shouldn’t have. Julie should have realized that she couldn’t avoid him forever. Their paths were meant to cross in every universe.

When he takes the stage, she doesn’t shatter. Yet.

People are swamped beside her and Flynn on all sides, and she still feels like it’s just the two of them. Once he’s in her line of sight, it’s only him in the room, only him that exists.

In a world where she’s jumped to and from across time, Luke may be the most real thing she’s ever known.

The words he says as he reads and answers questions hit her ears as just a series of tones and syllables that are achingly familiar. He’s laughing through one of the book’s anecdotes and suddenly she’s back in the arcade, laughing with him at the pinball machine. He’s talking about the rush of playing their first sold-out show, and she’s back in the greenroom as he heatedly kisses her up against a wall after she spent so much time fighting for him to love her again.

He’s reading about his parents, and she’s back on that pull-out couch that was only comfy when he was in it; listening to him whisper about their fragmented relationship.

But then a 20-year-old pokes him about the poem. And he says he loves her -- well, not explicitly, but he says it’s about love -- and the other shoe drops.

Tears inundate her eyes.

“I have to go,” her voice shakes as a sob threatens to rip through her words. Flynn offers to join, but Julie needs fresh air and to be alone and to just let her tears fall onto the asphalt of an alleyway without feeling the need to explain herself. She will always be alone in these emotions, in this heartbreak, and that’s okay -- she just doesn’t want anyone to act like they get it.

So she passes her book to Flynn, urges her to get it signed, and flees out the side door.

Right before she’s out, the 20-year-old presses on about Find Me: “Well, what if they came to you now? What if they found you? Wouldn’t you be happy to see them?”

The exit slams shut behind her and she doesn’t get to hear his answer.

“Well, what if they came to you now? What if they found you? Wouldn’t you be happy to see them?”

Flynn watches intently as Luke’s eyes darken. The book feels heavy in her hands, and she feels like she is suddenly intruding on an intimate moment between Luke and Julie -- even with Julie gone.

She didn’t always understand what happened with her best friend. But this was clearly a mind, body and soul situation.

Luke has to clear his throat and blink rapidly before answering. “God, sorry, that one caught me a little!” The audience chuckles. “No one’s asked me that so far on this tour. That’s a good question. I probably think about it more than I should, but… I mean, first of all, they wouldn’t come and find me. I know them well enough to know that Find Me just… Went out into the universe with no expectation of a response. But if they decided too, I… I’d wanna make sure they were happy. And I’d probably thank them one more time for everything they did when I was younger. I would probably be in shock, honestly. I haven’t seen them in a long time.”

Flynn is wiping her nose with a stray tissue from her purse before she can even register that she’s started crying.

The random people in the back row with her send her strange looks, wondering why she’s getting so emotional, but hearing Luke talk about her best friend like that…

“Do you still love them?”

God, this person won’t give him a break!

The rockstar visibly tenses up, and the easy grin plastered on his face breaks. That’s when his manager hustles onstage and announces that they are going to start the signing; and everyone needs to start lining up.

Flynn has to fight to get farther up in line, but it’s worth it when she reaches him.

“Hi,” he smiles, “who should I make it out to?”

The word makes her tongue feel like lead. “Julie.”

His head snaps up, and he’s fully looking at her for the first time. There are a thousand Julie’s in the world, but he knows it’s his.

“I’m her best friend,” Flynn continues, shifting her teary eyes down to her converse because fuck Julie wasn’t kidding when she said his eyes were intense sometimes.

“Flynn.”

“Oh... She told you-”

“Where is she? Is she here?”

She’s not even looking at him, but he sounds so desperate, and the water in her eyes swells as she glances at the exit off to her side. “Not right now. But she wanted me to get this signed for her.”

Luke’s Sharpie doesn’t move across the inside cover. In fact, he’s frozen; staring off in the distance with what Flynn is sure must be a whirlwind of emotion that he didn’t ask for. Flynn isn’t sure how to handle it -- they’re in public, and she’s minorly concerned she just sent him spiraling, and they don’t even know each other -- but she feels the need to relay a message since he’ll never get to hear it from Julie himself.

“She…” Luke looks back up at her; eyes boring into hers in a way that could tug the truth out of anybody. As she blinks, an enthusiastic tear drops onto her cheek, and she instantly lifts her index finger under her eye to catch anything else. “Fuck, my eyeliner. Sorry. Anyways-”

The words get caught in her throat again, so she has to take another deep breath. Helping star-crossed lovers communicate when they are almost thirty years apart is more emotionally taxing than she anticipated.

“She’s really proud of you,” Flynn finally manages with a voice squeakier and higher than she ever wants to hear it again. Another tear falls from her other eye. “She loves y- your music, and hopes that you have everything you wanted and she’s so proud of you for everything you’ve built.”

At this point, the crumpled tissue in her hand has been helping her dry her eyes because standing in front of Luke Patterson and trying to tell him that the love of his life still cares -- still watches from afar, still wants the world for him -- is making her realize the emotional turmoil that Julie must have been feeling all this time.

How did she do it?

In front of her, Luke is rubbing his hands over his face and audibly takes a deep, sniffly breath in. Turning to the same woman who got onstage to transition the event before, he informs her: “I need to get some air.”

“Luke, where are you-”

But he’s already forcefully pushing himself back in his chair, grasping the book off of the signing table, and darting out the same exit that Julie stormed through ten minutes ago.

When the manager turns to look at Flynn -- she bolts away and towards the front entrance. If Julie and Luke are about to meet in that alleyway, she doesn’t want to intrude. Even if she already fucked up both of their plans to never see each other again.

Julie is still hyperventilating and sobbing in the alleyway when the emergency exit loudly flings open against the wall of the bookstore. Her arms are wrapped tightly around herself with a childish prayer to have Teddy Luke in her arms, because at least then there would be a little piece of him to stay with her when the rest of him is gone.

She’s expecting Flynn, or an employee on their smoke break, but not-

“Luke.”

“Julie.”

A whimper leaves her lips at hearing him say her name for the first time in so long. His own eyes are glassy, and even though he’s so much older his eyes are still the same. He’s still her Luke, and that’s such a dangerous idea to touch in this timeline but she can’t let it go.

“I’m so sorry,” she wails, trying to avoid looking at his heartbroken expression for too long. “I know, I said we can’t do this, I just-”

“Julie.”

“Did you want me to find you?”

Air puffs from his mouth in a harsh sigh as he takes a few steps closer to her; incredulously focused on the fact that she’s there, in front of him, real. “I- Of course, of course I did, Julie. I just didn’t think you’d come. But I wanted you to know I was looking.”

Her eyelids fall shut. More tears are pushed out, and she doesn’t know if she’s crying or laughing because of course Luke would look even when she told him not to. He respected her, and he respected her wishes, but he could never help himself from pushing the boundaries.

Achingly, she’s always been so grateful for that trait in him.

But now the two of them are awkwardly standing only a few feet away, and the urge to just feel him, assure that he’s solid in front of her is becoming all too real.

Gravel rolls under the soles of her shoes. “I loved the book,” she confesses. “All of the stories. I mean, I’m sorry about the- About your splits-”

“I shouldn’t have even tried with them-”

“But everything else, just…”

How does she say it?

“When- Back when, in the other timeline, and you guys were ghosts… Those stories were the kind of thing you had always wanted. You were so determined to get it, and-” She sniffles. “I’m so glad you got it.”

His lips turn downward. It’s a flash of the familiarly frustrated Luke who is trying to make a tough decision, but in this case, she doesn’t know what that decision is. All she sees is the wince at her saying it was what he wanted, and how happy she was that he got it, and-

A conceited part of her contemplates if he’s about to correct her, tell her that life hasn’t been great, say that he would have rather had it differently; but he doesn’t want her to think her sacrifice was for nothing.

Oh, God, please say he’s happy. She doesn’t think she could handle anything less.

“It’s thanks to you,” he responds instead, gulping down any more that threatens to come up. “You saved me.” Beat. “Are- Are you happy? Is everything in this timeline okay?”

Well, in her head, not exactly. Of course she still had her dad and brother and Flynn, but Sunset Curve never stayed together, she erased Carrie’s entire existence, and everything felt just a little tilted on its axis. Julie felt like a stranger in a world of her own creation.

She yearned for the days back in Wonderland where everyone belonged. They were a little scarred and a little broken, but they were home. Her house from the original 2020 timeline was her home. Luke was her home, and he was right in front of her; the only security blanket she has right now.

Once again, she finds herself bursting into tears and wanting so badly to reach out to him, to give him a hug and tell him she wishes that she stayed in bed in Wonderland with him forever. She wants to jump back down the black hole and go back to 1995 when things made more sense than they did now and Luke could be hers again; and not a distant love that could never materialize in the present.

Julie, miraculously, holds herself back. But watching Luke’s hands flinch at the sight of her crying doesn’t make things easier.

“Please don’t cry.” His voice is a whisper but the words hit with a force that almost buckles her knees. “Julie, please, take a deep breath.”

She takes in a breath that makes her lungs expand into her ribs. “I’m happy,” she lies through her teeth as she breathes out slowly. “I’m happy. We’re happy.”

“Good.”

Tears are running down his face. She recalls a time where it was easy for her to hold his face and swipe under his eyes with her thumbs until there were no more tears for her to kiss away.

In unison, they clear their throats and shift their eyes. The air changes; they know they’re in a public place again, and Luke is an adult musician, and he’s with a fan. He holds his hand up, the one that has the book, and shakes it a little back and forth.

“Flynn said you wanted this signed?”

A watery smile blooms on her face in spite of the bitter moment. “Yeah,” she nods. “Thought it could be another memento.”

To put emphasis on the idea, she lifts up onto her tiptoes and tilts her voice up. Make it a more positive moment. Don’t dwell. Stop crying.

You can’t change things now.

Luke pops the cap off with his teeth, and toys around with it in his mouth like it’s one of his marked-up guitar picks as he holds the book open and scribbles something (probably illegible) on the inside of the front cover.

Then, once he’s done there, he starts flipping the pages around like he knows where every detail of the story is and marks up certain pages with… Something. She doesn’t know. After he’s made his wanted notes, he writes something out on the last page before firmly shutting it and returning it to her possession.

“Thank you,” she smiles simply as she pulls the book from his hands and carefully assures that their hands don’t overlap. If she touches him, she falls apart.

Luke hums in response.

Stupidly, Julie decides that moment to open up the book and see what he wrote while he’s standing right in front of her. But she isn’t thinking about him, or looking at him -- she’s looking at the inside cover.

We were always meant to find each other. Don’t forget that - please.

Yours,

Luke

When a tear drops on the page, she quickly turns farther into the book because she doesn’t want her feelings to ruin his beautiful, even if messy, words. These words are all she’ll have after today.

The few pages in the book that he made notes on were just little things that she never knew she needed to hear.

The chapter about his first sold out stadium show? Thought of you the whole time

When he heard he was nominated for a Grammy? Wanted to call you first

The night he won his first Grammy? Almost thanked you in my speech

The last page he wrote on was the Acknowledgements page. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t that long. Luke kept a core circle of people and that was that. But below that short list, in bold, black letters:

To Julie Molina, who sacrificed everything so that I could be able to tell these stories. I wish she could have been a part of them.

Her tears slip from her face so clear and quickly that she’s surprised her tear ducts are generating such a mass amount. The words replay in her head, in Luke’s voice, over and over. The affirmation that he wanted her with him all this time.

But she had to go again. This had to be a one-time thing. This hurt too much for her to put either of them through it again, and besides -- now she had closure in his own writing; with her tears notarizing each word.

“It’s time, Julie,” she mutters to herself. “It’s time.”

To say goodbye. Again.

But Luke never answers. It’s dead silent, even though cars should be racing on the road behind them. When she looks up, Luke is frozen to the spot. Everything is, except her.

“Time is a funny thing isn’t it? Just when you think you have a handle on it, it manages to surprise you.”

It’s Willie, but not actually Willie. The one who was giving her the clues and trying to lead her in directions all over 1995; the one who she hasn’t seen in a really, really long time. For a moment, she doesn’t believe it.

But he tells her that fate is in her hands. This is her choice. And despite the doubt that lingers uneasily in her chest, she can’t help but be desperate for this to be real.

“Why not you? Who better than Julie Molina? Teenage girl with a good heart and music in her soul. Braver than most. Why not you?”

Julie jumped across time to save her boys, and now she is willing to make the trip again if it means there’s a chance of saving them all.

But there’s one more thing she wants to do. Just before everything either is perfect again or goes to complete shit.

Spinning away from Willie, she takes a second glance at Luke’s still frame and softens her face into a smile. He had been looking down at her while she was reading his notes with tears in his eyes and a sad grin on his face.

No one is looking or judging anymore -- so she stands on her toes and throws her arms around his neck, squeezing him close even if he can’t hug her back. She’s been dying to do this since she saw him in the bookstore.

And it feels like coming home.

“I’ll find you again,” she whispers into his ear that probably isn’t listening. “I promise.”

And without any more hesitation, she turns back to Willie with her chin up and shoulders back.

“What do I have to do?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The book never finds its way back to her the way that the bear does or the way that the ring does.

But that’s okay, because the bookstore does, and she’s with Luke when she registers that they are walking by the bookstore on their way to meet everyone at one of their favorite diners.

By now, Luke had been told everything. She felt herself starting to fall in love with this third Luke just as she had all the others, but could never tell if he was falling back in love with her. Julie found herself -- while this timeline was infinitely better than the old one -- pining for Luke to come back to her and love her like he did in two other lifetimes.

Their hands were brushing each other’s on the sidewalk when the bookstore sign met her eyes.

“Jules?”

Her feet are glued to the cement; her eyes are glued to the alleyway. Luke approaches behind her and lays a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

“Jules, are you- Is everything okay?”

“Can we take a detour, really quick?”

And suddenly, he’s letting her lace her fingers through his and pull him through traffic -- no crosswalk in sight -- across the street to stand in front of a bookstore that has zero meaning to him whatsoever. Julie selfishly revels in his calluses rubbing her knuckles and doesn’t make a move to let go unless he will.

He doesn’t. At least, until they hit the alleyway.

“Julie, what is this place? Why are we out here? Is this… Did I like it here, or something?”

They never spoke much about the Luke’s of other timelines. Julie quickly caught onto the fact that he got uncomfortable when she talked about guys with his name and face that he knew virtually nothing about even though he felt pressured to know everything.

But he dealt with her when she had moments like these. She never thanked him properly for it.

“It wasn’t like that,” she shakes her head, “we were here in the other 2020. The one where you were older, and this huge Grammy-winning solo musician. The one that was a result of what I did in 1995.”

The exit door is still rusty on the hinges. The brick is the same shade of red, and-

“Okay… And? What did you guys do?”

His use of third person is a clear message. “Him and I had made this promise in ‘95 that we wouldn't find each other, right?” “Because he would be old.”

“Yeah. But he published this book and had a whole signing tour called Find Me, and Flynn told me we should go, and… Basically, I had a mental breakdown at seeing him, and then he came back here and signed the book for me, and we talked, and-”

Her voice cracks. Her eyes feel wet.

Fuck.

Can’t she make it one timeline without sobbing in an alleyway?

A familiar hand rubs up and down her back as she stares, firmly, at the spot where her and Luke were so vividly standing and talking and pining for the other.

“Jules, hey, look at me.”

Because it’s Luke -- because it’s her Luke -- she listens to him, and rotates to face him. The soft fabric of his shirt hits her cheeks as he presses his fingers into the cotton and lifts his hand to wipe the tears from her face in a gesture that tempts her to cry more. Instead, she tries to laugh it off. “God, I really need to stop having meltdowns in alleyways, huh?” He stays quiet; looking at her in a recognizable Luke way that reminds her of all of their loving times in other lives. But she can’t get her hopes up. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like when I talk about it. Sometimes I just-”

“You need to,” he nods. “I get it.”

Her feet are planted identically where they were in alternate-2020. But Luke is in a different spot, because this is a new Luke. One that’s right in front of her, lightly holding her arms; not one that’s a few feet out of reach.

“He told me that we would always find each other.” Her voice is watered down, and quiet, but Luke is close enough to hear it.

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he? We did it. For like, the fourth time, according to you.”

And then, she’s hit with a Luke Patterson smile. She sees it all of the time now but it never gets old because he’s young, and he’s happy, and he’s here.

Her lips turn up to reflect it, and in a shocking turn of events: Luke instigates the hug.

They are nearly best friends, so they’ve hugged before. But this one is different.

His arms fold around her shoulders and tug her close and snug into his chest so that his chin is nearly resting on her hair. This leaves her able to press him close to her with her arms wrapped tightly and lovingly around his waist -- almost, dare she say it, like he was a teddy bear.

“I never said I’m sorry,” he murmurs into her forehead. “Or thank you, for that matter.” “For what?” “I’m sorry you went through so much for me. For us. It still affects you a lot and I’m sorry you have to carry that alone.” His chest rises and falls under her cheek as he takes a deep breath, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of feeling him breathe or hearing his heartbeat. “And thank you for loving us enough to do it. You sacrificed a lot.”

She is too choked up to verbally comment -- but she squeezes him tighter, almost tempting her arms to swish through him.

They don’t.

And Luke continues talking after a moment of a peaceful silence. “It’s kind of cool, though, for me to think about this person I have in the universe. You know? The whole thing with us finding each other. I always have you, no matter where I am. You’ll be out there.”

“Always,” she sighs into his chest, because she can’t help it. It took them a few tries, but here they are: In the same timeline, with full family and friends and lives, in a reciprocated hug.

“Always.” Luke repeats the word, almost feeling it out in his mouth. “Well, thanks for doing it again. Maybe let me do the work next time. You need a break.”

God, this Luke is always so good at making her laugh. Ghost-Luke was, too, but the other Luke’s and her were always swept up in emotionally-taxing situations for her to be laughing like she could when she was with this Luke.

It was almost as if this one had practice. Maybe those other lives were kicking in.

He was her final Luke, hopefully.

As she props her chin up on his chest, she gives him the widest grin she’s worn all day. “I would appreciate that. Just don’t take too long.” Her forehead nuzzles itself into his neck as she settles herself back into his arms; fully content to be wrapped up in him for as long as he will let her stay. “I’ll get worried.”

A soothing hand over her hair is all the confirmation she needs.

“Don’t worry, Boss. I’ll be there.”

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #we found wonderland

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

Text

Family Matters More

Keanu Reeves x reader. Requested. (A/n- So, because I’m terrible at staying organized, I have all of my requests, but not who they were requested by, so, when I write and post and you aren’t tagged even if you didn’t request on anon, I am very, very sorry, it’s no one’s fault but my own.)

Masterlist

Warnings- Pregnancy, Angst (it’s fine at the end though.)

Dropping the phone to the dark veined, marble kitchen counter, Y/n sighed heavily, raking her nails through her hair. Tears prickled at her eyes, making them glassy and ready to overflow. It had been coming, her entire family knew it, but Y/n still couldn’t believe the news she’d just heard from her mother; her uncle, who she’d grown up extremely close to, had died, from lung cancer. He’d been suffering for almost two years, aggressive chemo had only worked the first time, but when another cluster of tumors had shown up in a follow up PET scan, nothing had worked and her family’s only option had been to make his last days comfortable. Unfortunately, his ‘last days’ had turned out to be thirteen grueling months.

Uncle Kenny had wilted away like flowers at the beginning of winter, growing duller as the days dragged on. The last time Y/n had seen him was months ago, she’d wanted to visit him at the hospice, but collectively, her parents and husband had urged her to keep their interactions restricted to over the phone, not wanting to stress her out too much. It had frustrated her at first, Uncle Kenny was her favorite uncle, always able to put a smile on her face when she was a kid and had taught her so much about the great outdoors while her parents were too busy climbing the corporate ladder to do it themselves. But though it was hard, eventually, Y/n had relented, but only after her uncle had personally requested that she stay away. That had come after she’d told him that she and Keanu were expecting. He loved her, and his unborn grand niece, which was why he couldn't risk something happening to Y/n or the baby because of added stress.

Hanging her head in her hands, Y/n tried to quell the stinging in her eyes, but her efforts were fruitless and before long, hot tears were falling freely, punctuated by soft sobs racking her body. It wasn’t supposed to hurt that much, Y/n knew that it was inevitable, and it should have comforted her that he’d gone in his sleep, but really, it didn’t. If only he hadn’t been such an avid smoker, then maybe he’d still be there, hopefully to teach her daughter the things he’d taught Y/n when she was a kid.

“So, babe I-” Keanu cut himself off as he entered the kitchen. Worry immediately swelling in his chest at the sight of his wife in tears, “Hey,” he cooed, immediately going over to where she sat at the counter, pulling her flush against his chest and smoothing his hands over her hair, “Shh,” he kissed the top of her head, “What’s wrong baby?”

It took a while, Y/n was blubbering so intense that she couldn’t speak, but after about fifteen minutes spent in Keanu’s comforting embrace, she settled enough to form words, “He’s gone Ke,” she sobbed, burrowing into his chest, “Uncle Kenny’s gone.”

Right there, Keanu’s heart broke for her. Of course, everyone knew that the moment was coming, but still his wife had lost someone dear to her, and in such a painful way. All he wanted was to take the hurt away, she was supposed to be enjoying the path to motherhood, not breaking down because she’d lost a loved one. “I’m sorry baby,” Keanu kissed the top of Y/n’s head again. “Come on,” he eventually urged her off of the barstool, hugging her close as he led them to the living room, cuddling her as they sank onto the sofa. “Can I get you anything? Water or tea?” Even if he couldn’t fix her heartbreak, Keanu could still take care of her, and their baby.

“No,” she shook her head, staring forward blankly, her fingers absently tracing circles on her growing bump, too upset to notice the fluttering kicks against her stomach. Why couldn’t he have just stuck around for three more months? If not to see her grow up, just to meet her, at least once.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keanu probed, wishing that he could offer more than just a listening ear and a hug.

Y/n shook her head again, “Not really,” her words were soft and broken, “Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“Of course sweetheart.”

Funerals were always emotionally draining, but it was especially so when you were six months pregnant and your emotions were working in overtime. Huffing as she entered their bedroom, Y/n winced as she stationed a weary hand at her aching back. The lengthy service had been held at a church in the city, Uncle Kenny just had to be a devout Catholic in his final days, and the old, worn, wooden pews hadn’t been very kind. Worse yet, the kitten heels she’d opted to wear didn’t provide much support when she’d had to spend nearly two hours on her feet, standing at the entrance with her parents as they thanked everyone as they trickled out of the cathedral.

With a pained groan, half from her back, half from the headache she’d acquired at some point throughout the day, Y/n slowly sank into the armchair, intent on starting to remove her shoes. Just as Y/n had lifted one swollen ankle onto her other knee, Keanu came into the bedroom, tugging at the neck of his black tie, his longish dark strands brushing his shoulders, the salt in his beard signalling that he hadn’t gone for a trim in a while. “Let me do that,” he offered, coming to kneel in front of her.

“No,” Y/n flinched away, “I’ll do it.” She was upset with him, though, she hadn’t let him know yet. Y/n had spent the last week or so in deep, deep thought; her uncle had been a smoker, which had led to lung cancer and, ultimately, death. Keanu was a smoker too, and Y/n couldn’t help but worry that she’d lose him like that or to some other type of ill health.

Furrowing his brows, Keanu tilted his head to the side. Y/n had been cold with him all day, holding his hand, but only reluctantly so, and barely saying a word to him on the drive back to their house. He understood that she was hurting, but he didn’t want her to shut him out because of it. “What’s wrong?”

“We just came back from a funeral, what do you think’s wrong?” Y/n grumbled, struggling to take her shoes off, eventually submitting to his help. “Excuse me,” she pushed off the arm chair, shrugging off the black blazer that she’d worn over her smock dress, letting her hair down afterwards.

“Y/n,” Keanu sighed her name quietly, “Please, just talk to me. I know this is hard for you but-”

“I want you to stop smoking,” the admission just tumbled out of her mouth, with barely any warning. She’d had it; watching her uncle wither away was hard enough, Y/n was sure that she couldn’t survive watching Keanu being broken down like that. And worse yet, raise their child on her own, what was she supposed to tell their daughter? That her father puffed his life away even though he knew she’d need him?

“What?” Keanu slipped his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, taken aback by her harsh request.

“I want you to stop smoking,” Y/n repeated firmly, “I don’t want to lose you like that. And even if its not cancer, there’s a whole bunch of other stuff that it could cause. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you, you know that.”

Keanu chuckled humorlessly, hoping to lighten the moment. Y/n had never had a problem with his nasty vice before, they’d been together for years, and now, out of the blue she wanted him to stop? “Honey,” he chuckled again, “Don’t be ridiculous.” In retrospect, accusing his pregnant wife of being ridiculous may not have been his best move.

“Ridiculous?” Y/n repeated incredulously, “You think I’m being ridiculous for wanting you to be healthy? Well maybe I’m being ridiculous for having a baby with a man who’s not taking care of himself, who probably doesn’t even care if he lives long enough to walk his daughter down the aisle one day.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed, already exasperated, “I’m fine Y/n, healthy and right here.” He loved his wife, but like almost every other husband in the world Keanu didn’t want to be wrong. Besides, he was stuck in his ways; old habits die hard. And above all, he was scared, Keanu didn’t want to think about missing one of the most important days of his daughter’s life, no father did. Unfortunately though, instead of his inner turmoil encouraging him to be sympathetic to Y/n's cause, it just fanned Keanu’s flame, rousing the worst reaction, “And you know what? If having a baby with me is so fucking ridiculous, maybe we shouldn’t have kept it! Hell, I’m older than you anyway, maybe I’ll just die, have you thought of that?”

Y/n’s lips quivered, frightened at his tone and at a complete loss for words. How could he say those things? “I…..” Nothing would come, and suddenly, Y/n wanted to be far away from Keanu. That wasn’t the gentle, sweet man she married. Her husband was loving and sensitive, he was overjoyed when they’d found out that they were having a baby and ordinarily would have never said something so cruel. Y/n didn’t know what had prompted the seemingly overnight change, but she did know that if Keanu was going to be like that, she didn’t want to be in the same house with him.

Seeing the tears in her eyes and the slight shake in her form, Keanu swore under his breath, “Fuck.” He couldn’t believe that he’d let fear and anger get the better of him like that. He stood; wooden and glued to the floor as Y/n suddenly started moving around in as much of a haste as her condition would afford her, grabbing a large bag from their closet and packing some of her stuff into it, “I’m- shit,” he mumbled when she wouldn’t stop to hear him, “Y/n,” he pleaded, reached out to grab her arm, huffing in defeat when she pulled away, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, well you did.” Zipping the top up, Y/n swung her bag over her shoulders, too enraged to take the time to put her shoes back on, so instead shoving her tired feet into the nearest pair of flip flops, a fluffy set that she usually wore after getting into her pajamas. Without another word, she was leaving the bedroom, headed towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Keanu followed Y/n down the steps, and able to move a little faster than her, he easily blocked her way at the bottom.

Her cheeks were tear stained and Y/n’s eyes were already red, one hand gripped the strap of the bag tightly while the other was placed protectively over her bump. Keanu hated seeing her cry, yet, that night, he’d been the one bringing tears to her eyes. “Home,” was all she offered, trying to squeeze through the space between his larger body and the railing.

“You are home,” he countered, folding his arms.

“I meant home, to my parents,” she clarified, not even sure why she’d bothered to tell him. At the side door to the garage, Y/n grabbed her car keys off the little brass hook, singling out the remote for her car alarm and then hitting the button at the top to unlock it.

“At least let me drive you,” he didn’t want Y/n to leave like that, distraught and past dark. Even in the security of her car, anything could happen, and above all, her safety came first, triumphing any amount of anger over their spat.

“No,” Y/n was getting into her car, clumsily sliding into the driver’s seat, “I just…...I don’t want to be around you right now, okay?”

The harshness in her tone coupled with her actual words stung like a snake bite to the chest, though Keanu was well aware that he’d said much worse not too long ago. He should have been reasonable instead of acting like an insensitive jerk. He should have heard her out and talked things through with Y/n instead of spewing battery acid.

The garage door reeled open and Y/n started backing her car out, not paying Keanu any mind as he called after her. Desperately, he followed on his feet for as far as he could, though, as usual, he was reminded that his knees weren't what they used to be and before long, Y/n's car was far beyond his reach, his wife and child, who he was absolutely terrified to lose, gone, and he'd had no clue when, or if, they'd ever be back.

Sleep had been hard to come by that night, so hard that it never really came. Keanu's mind was constantly bombarded with anxious thoughts of Y/n. She hadn't answered her phone when he called, probably two dozen times, and when he'd tried her parents place, they'd both rattled off cheap, continuous excuses; she wasn't there yet, she was sleeping or even the age old "she's busy."

All night, he'd worried about her, even between his fruitless phone calls. Was she sleeping okay? Was she well? How was the baby? For a brief moment, at around two am, Keanu had all but actually made it to his car, still dressed from the funeral, ready to head to his in-laws and mend things with his love, but in the end, fear and reason had stopped him. Y/n needed time to cool off, especially after what he'd said, a mere few hours definitely weren't going to cut it.

And then, slumping into one of the sitting room's sofas, Keanu finally took a minute to think about exactly what had gone down. Her plea had been reasonable; if it had been the other way around, he'd have wanted her to stop a lifetime ago, expect her to do anything that would prolong their time together. But there he'd stood, trying to make Y/n the fool for asking the same of him.

Maybe I'll just die. Those were his words.

Keanu had never been one to let himself be preoccupied with thoughts of his own death, it was frivolous after all, it wasn't like he could change it. One day, it was going to happen, one day, he was going to leave people behind. And it never bothered him, that was, until he met her. So innocently, not looking to fall in love, but just a month later, doing it anyway. Almost four years ago, Y/n had brought a new vibrancy to his life, and now, they were creating one together. And with every cell in his being, Keanu didn't want to miss a moment of it.

Quitting was hard, he'd tried before. But arguably, before, there wasn't so much at stake. Just like that, with reinvigorated energy, Keanu pushed off the couch, fishing a half empty pack of smokes from his pocket, tossing it to the kitchen counter, only to head to the little draw in the kitchen where he usually kept some more on hand. Even if it wasn't going to be easy, even if the stories he'd heard about withdrawal and the side effects of going cold turkey were terrifying, Keanu knew that he had to. For his wife, for his child. For himself.

For the rest of the night, knowing full and well that sleeping with her spot vacant would be a daunting task, Keanu disregarded the need for rest, instead opting to sweep the house for any trace of a cigarette; getting rid of everything from stray smokes and glass ashtrays to expensive cigars. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right.

By dawn, everything indicating that a smoker resided at their cushy house in the hills had been tossed; dumped in the appropriate bin at the curb, and then, unable to hold out any longer, Keanu finally got in his car, started it up and backed out into the street, headed to bring his family home.

Her eyes burned, half from crying all night and half from just not sleeping at all. Though she'd tried, pillows tucked around her, Y/n still hadn't managed to catch a wink all night, and as the light of dawn split the darkness, she'd found herself queasy with homesickness. It wasn't like she hadn't ever spent a night away from her place with Keanu, but the feeling of being at odds with him like that, knowing she'd actively left so abruptly and so distraught, had made her literally sick.

Needless to say, things had gone far awry from what Y/n had expected. Of course, he was allowed to be upset, she was asking him to give up something he'd been doing for more than twenty years, smoking, as terrible as it was, was ingrained in his routine. Habitual. And trying to take it away so sudden would be like ripping away someone's security blanket. So really, she had no intention of hurting him.

Yet still, he'd hurt her

That morning, and the painful memory continued to rack her frame with soft sobs, eventually interrupted by her mother, features pinched with worry, knocking on her ajar door as she poked her head in, "Y/n," she probed tentatively, "Sweetheart, Keanu wants to know if you'd be okay with talking to him now. Please, he's worried about you."

"I don't wanna talk to him," Y/n shifted beneath the mass of covers, swiping away some tears from her reddened cheeks, "Just tell him to leave me alone." She knew, full and well, that she sounded like a melodramatic teenager going through a lover's spat with her high school boyfriend, but Y/n didn't care.

"Dear," her mother sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I know you two had a fight last night, but he's your husband. Besides, he's already downstairs."

Struggling to turn towards the door and sit up, Y/n couldn't decide if she was infuriated or touched, "What?" Sniffing loudly, she reached for a tissue from the box at her bedside, "Why?"

"Because, he's worried and he loves you," when Y/n didn't look particularly moved, her mother, as adamant on having them resolve their issues as she was, continued, "And he know he's said some stupid things, but he doesn't want to keep things this way. Everyone makes mistakes Y/n. Please just talk to him, he's here and he's as much of a mess as you are. And we both know that all this stress isn't good for the baby, I'm sure she misses her daddy."

Hesitating for a moment, Y/n eventually nodded, absently caressing her bump as she finally permitted, "Okay, fine. Tell him I'll be right down."

Smiling faintly, Y/n's mother thought on it for a minute, before suggesting; "Even better; why don't I ask him up here? That way you two can shut the door and have some privacy."

"Yeah, okay," wiping her reddened nose with the crumpled tissue, trying not to cry again, "He can come up." Mouthing an okay, Y/n’s mother pushed the door back in, walking off without another word, and just as she did, Y/n shoved off the covers, scooting to the edge of the bed and slowly standing. Taking a minute to go over to the full length mirror, passing a brush from the top of the dresser through her bed head and then attempting to straighten her mismatched pajamas, she was just about to go over to the window, to see if Keanu's car was really parked out front, when her door creaked open, the sudden sound making her jump and gasp.

"Hey," Keanu didn't hold her gaze for longer than a minute handful of seconds before letting his whiskey orbs fall to the hardwood floor, strands from his untamed mane curtaining his tired features. Cautiously, as if he were afraid of upsetting her, Keanu inched into Y/n's childhood bedroom. They both knew the room well, and she remembered the first time she'd brought him to it, the night he'd met her parents for the first time. They'd been skeptical at first, he was older, and Hollywood had given most of their men a bad rep, but by the end of dinner, her mother was smitten and her father…...well, he could tolerate him. They'd brought their desert up there and had it by the window, just before Y/n had showed him around. Their current situation felt far different; void of the warmth of new love replaced by the stifling fear that their marriage was hanging in the balance.

"Hi," meekly, Y/n replied, swallowing thickly and not knowing how they should have continued. She didn't like how it felt; to be so flustered in his company. They were each other's safe places, refuge after a long, hard day, their first phone calls when something good happened and everything in between. Around Keanu, silence was comfortable and usually, breaking long stretches without words exchanged was easy. But that morning, she didn't have the slightest clue on what to say, on how to begin to bridge the gap that had grown overnight.

Putting a fist to his lips, Keanu raised his head again, tentatively looking around first to the unmade bed and then to Y/n standing near the closed window as he cleared his throat, primarily to break the tense silence. "I'm sorry," just as she had the night before, Y/n flinched when Keanu reached for her, that time though, it was more out of hurt than anger. She could see that her actions had stung him by the pained look that crossed his face, but he'd done his own share of damage the night before, and even if she could be talked into forgiving, Y/n wasn't just yet ready to forget. "What I said-"

"Was pretty damn fucked up," the break in her voice brought with it a new wave of quiet tears and Y/n could swear she felt her heart start breaking at his words replaying in her mind. Maybe we shouldn’t have kept it. Maybe I’ll just die. “You talked about aborting our child Keanu! What, were you just lying every time you said you wanted a family with me?”

“No, no, of course not,” scouring his brain for the right words, Keanu’s chest felt tight. He really had messed things up, with the best person in his life, and he wasn’t sure he could fix it. But he had to give it his best. He didn’t think he could stand to leave without his wife. “I just,” hitting his thigh with his fist and shaking his head, Y/n could see him fighting tears, “I got defensive, I don't want to think about not being there for the both of you, it’s scary.”

“Then talk to me about it, try to understand where I’m coming from when I ask you to try to quit,” Y/n’s arms fell to her sides in defeat, “Don’t…..” When she couldn’t finish, Keanu approached her again, and that time, she let him wrap her in his strong arms. It had just been one night, but she’d missed their comfort dearly, there was absolutely nothing that could compare to his embrace.

“I’m so, so sorry sweetheart,” his husky, pained voice was barely a whisper and he followed up his words with a chaste kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. It felt so good to have her tucked against his chest again, their heartbeats in sync. “I never, ever want to hurt you like this again,” Keanu rubbed her back soothingly, one hand toying with the ends of her freed tresses, “And I want to be with you, both of you, for as long as I can be. So I’m quitting, I’m done with that.”

With tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes, Y/n reared back slightly to meet his equally blurry gaze, “I’m sorry I picked a fight about that,” Y/n sighed quietly, and as much as she’d wanted him to quit smoking, she didn’t want to push him too hard, “And you know, if its too hard then-”

“No,” Keanu swallowed thickly, “It’s not. I don’t care about that, our family matters more to me, and you two are gonna be stuck with me for a very, very long time.”

Through her tears, a glimmer of a smile broke through, brightening her sorrow, and without warning Y/n’s arms around Keanu’s middle tightened and she laid her head on his chest, “Good,” she grinned softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly, “Cause we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick fanfic #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #requested #angst #fluff #keanu reeves oneshot #john wick oneshot #family matter more

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helaintoloki · 4 years

Text

Ghost

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: light nsfw content, physical violence, angst, themes of insecurity and self-hatred

notes: not sure what this is but it popped up in my head one night and out came this

summary: Bucky is y/n’s protector, a fellow runaway much like himself. She loves him, but to her dismay Bucky does his best to keep her at arm’s length for he thinks she deserves a better man then he could ever be.

based on the song ghost by Halsey

“You say that you’re no good for me cause I’m always tugging at your sleeve”

“Where are we going?” She asks, fingers clutching at the rough material of his jacket sleeve as he weaves her along through the city. It isn’t safe out in the open, too many prying eyes and lingering gazes follow their path as the pair attempts to enjoy a normal outing. Guilt weighs heavy on his shoulders as he’s reminded of his constant failure to provide her with an ordinary, comfortable life. Always on the run, always hiding from something, always afraid- that was no life for someone like her. Maybe he deserved it after all the destruction and agony he’d brought to those around him, but she deserved better.

“Safe house,” Bucky grumbles under his breath, pace increasing and steps hastening in an attempt to shorten the mileage of their journey. If they hurried now they could make it before sundown. He notices her gaze lingering towards a mother and baby sitting on the street corner begging for food, steps slowing as she reaches for spare change in her puse, and the soldier tugs her forward. A small, warning grunt escapes him. His tone is firm with an underlying sense of urgency as he calls her name. “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, but she isn’t really. Not for wanting to help someone. It irked the man at times; she could hardly save herself let alone ever save anybody else. Trouble maker. Stubborn. Strong headed. All words said with an annoyed fondness for the girl. She was a fighter, that was for sure, and she reminded him of a muddled face from a foggy past he couldn’t quite remember.

“Next time,” he promises like he has every instance before. A promise of normalcy and another chance that will soon be broken by his paranoia and his requisite to run. Y/N knows this but says nothing, only nods in acknowledgement as she scrambles to match his pace.

“Next time,” y/n repeats. Bucky’s grayish blue eyes are clouded with anxiety, lips set in a firm line, brows creased with calculation, and metal arm whirring soothingly under his clothing as he clenches and unclenches his fists. Her pinky finds its way around his own, and this time the man only flinches slightly at the skin to skin contact. Progress. She’s worming her way into his heart and he’s letting her. Because he is her protector. Her savior. Her guardian. Because he cares about her.

Because he loves her.

~~~

“And I swear I hate you when you leave, but I like it anyway”

Y/N observed the outside world from the safety of her seat by the window. Coffee mug in hand, she sipped the hot liquid and watched the fog pass through the trees. It was a quiet afternoon in the woods much like it always was whenever they took refuge there, but it was a peaceful type of silence that made all her troubles and fears go away. Safe house was a good term for their little cottage.

Bucky had found the home long before he had found y/n. It had been a rundown, gloomy, old little thing that was sufficient enough to provide shelter but lacking in warmth. Y/N had changed that. With new pieces of furniture and a newfound love for the cottage, the girl had made it seem like a regular home for a regular couple rather than a hideout for two runaways.

He had never really told her exactly what he was running from, but he had explained that he was soldier, and there were bad men- and good men too- looking for him. He could protect her, but there would always be a lingering sense of danger hovering over them no matter where they went. And she trusted him blindly, desperate at first then understanding with time. James was not a bad man, he had so far kept his promise of keeping her safe, had always made her comfort come first even if it meant bringing about his own suffering, and had been more gentler with her than he had ever been with anything in his whole entire life. Bucky was her friend, her protector, and she loved him.

“Fire’s ready,” he announces from his spot by the fireplace. The gentle flames that lick at the fresh pieces of wood cast the tired man in a warm glow that makes him look a lot younger than he is, like a peaceful woodsman enjoying his creation after a long day’s work. Y/N wonders what life would be like if he was just that. Not a soldier, not a man on the run, not a man terrified of his own shadow, but a regular man with a simple life. Would she fit into that equation? Would he still be with her if that had been the case? She decides she doesn’t want to think of it anymore and instead joins him in front of the fire.

“You look tired,” y/n comments, handing her mug to the man and watching with a discrete fondness as he downs the rest of the lukewarm liquid.

“No time for sleep,” Bucky responds quietly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his flesh hand. “Perimeter check. Keep watch so you can sleep.”

“James, it’s okay. No one’s out there, you don’t have to kill yourself with worry. Stay here. Sleep. Don’t leave me alone,” y/n pleads, fingers grasping at the sleeve of his maroon colored Henley in an attempt to anchor him down to his spot on the ground. His eyes glance at her fingers, the way her trimmed nails dig into the fabric and fingers clutch at him. Her touch is gentle but desperate, longing and fretful, and Bucky knows he does not deserve to have her. How could someone so soft, so kind, so compassionate ever bother with a monster like him?

“Only for a little bit,” Bucky consoles, metal fingers delicately prying her fingers away before holding her hand up to his face. A cool digit traces the lines of her fingers and palms, maps out her life line so that even if Hydra does return again, they won’t be able to erase the significance her life holds in his heart. He handles her with care, with love, and y/n sits back in silence and watches his therapeutic trance.

Stubble tickles her skin as he brings her hand to his mouth, chapped lips pressed against her palm in the ghost of a kiss. Stormy eyes flutter shut as he keeps her there, savoring the warmth of her presence and her touch. He needs her, he loves her, he aches for her. He would die for her.

“Stay,” y/n repeats again in a hushed whisper, free hand coming to rest against his cheek as a nervous breath leaves her lips. His eyes flutter open to find her own filled with so much emotion it makes him dizzy, and he does not protest when she moves to straddle his lap. “Stay.”

Hot mouths mesh together in a sloppy kiss, stray hands desperately grabbing at one another to feel something, to confirm that this is real and that they are real. His left arm lingers stiffly at his side until she’s guiding it to grope her breast underneath her shirt. A soft sigh leaves her swollen lips at the feeling of the cool metal against her hot skin, hips rocking back and forth slowly on his strong thigh.

This must be heaven, Bucky thinks as he lies her back on the fur throw rug beside the fire, and as he gets a taste of her between her legs he wonders how a sinner like him could ever be gifted with such an angel.

~~~

“My ghost, where’d you go? I can’t find you in the body sleeping next to me.”

Staring up at the wooden ceiling, y/n finds that she cannot sleep. Her body is full of physical bliss, but her heart weighs heavy as she glances over at the man sleeping beside her. He is peaceful, all previous worries melted away from his features as he dreams of freedom and the future. She reaches out to trace a gentle line along his cheek with her index and he does not stir like he once would have before.

It had been five days since they had arrived at the cottage, each night filled with soft passion and loving touches. Bucky was evolving emotionally, slowly opening up to the woman he’d spent months protecting as he came to realize that it was okay to confide in others, confide in her. He talked more, hesitated less, stopped hiding his biggest insecurity from her. But there was still a sense of lingering fear, as if he was anticipating his next mistake. Waiting for his next slip up. But what accident could he cause?

Y/N did not know of the blood spilled by his hands or the red in his ledger, but she wondered if he was afraid to hurt her like she’d been hurt in the past. If he’d become the very thing she was running from.

His name was Thomas, a Hydra agent disguised as Shield- y/n was unaware of both- who had knocked her around and threatened her with everything under the sun. He had almost killed her once, and that was when she had decided to run. She hadn’t the faintest idea of where she was going at first, only concerned with getting as far away from the man as possible until she had gotten lost. Bucky had found her, cold and tired and hungry and struggling to continue running. Like a stray dog, he took her in and nursed her back to health. And much like a stray dog, she stuck around even when he tried to shoo her away until finally he couldn’t bare to part with her.

Her counterpart begins to stir beside her, murmured words escaping past his lips in a language she can’t quite understand. But she can sense his distress and turns to look at him in worry.

“Bucky,” she whispers, fingers gently brushing against his cheek. “Bucky, are you-“

Metal fingers wrap around her throat and squeeze the words out of her mouth as Bucky, still half asleep, straddles her body and begins to choke her. Wide eyed and frightened, y/n begins to beat at his chest and struggles under his iron grip.

“James,” she wheezes, gasping for air as she desperately tries to pry his fingers away. Her vision begins to blur and lashes begin to flutter as the lack of oxygen begins to kick in. “James!”

Reality punches the soldier in the gut as he stares down at his girl in horror. Now wide awake and aware of his actions, Bucky is quick to yank his hands away and scramble out of the bed. His eyes are full of tears as he watches her cough and splutter, chest heaving as she sucks in air. Y/N’s neck is red and purple, the imprints of his fingers on her skin confirmation of his presence there.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“James,” y/n calls softly, afraid to scare him as if he wasn’t the one who had just almost killed her. “Honey, it’s okay. Baby, come here.”

“I’m a monster,” Bucky whispers, and y/n’s heart breaks in two at his words.

He stays huddled in the corner of the room for the remainder of the night, ignoring y/n’s calming whispers and gentle pleas for his return. Her Bucky is gone, and it’s back to square one.

~~~

“My ghost, where’d you go? What happened to the soul that you used to be?”

On day seven Bucky deems it safe enough to continue their travels. He secures their bags to the back of his motorcycle, ignoring her lingering gaze. He has not uttered more than two words to her so far, has kept his distance at all times, has shied away from her touch, and refuses to look at her. Y/N aches for him, longs for his companionship, misses his warmth.

Ugly blotches of blue and yellow stain her neck, but y/n is smart enough to hide the reminder of Bucky’s mistakes with a scarf. Seeing his physical marks on her skin is just another reminder of his irredeemable qualities, of the fact that he is and always will be the Winter Soldier. He could have killed her, would have killed her if not for the gasping breath of his name that barely managed to tumble out of her lips. She is no longer safe with him, never was safe, and now Bucky must decide how to protect her from himself.

“Here,” he says, handing her the helmet. He pulls away before her fingers can so much as brush up against his skin, ignoring her defeated gaze and heartbroken face.

He is not her Bucky. Not anymore. He is once again the man afraid of his own shadow, afraid of his past, the closed off man who realizes he cannot love for he was made to destroy. He tells himself he is a monster, and so he shuts her out to protect her.

Bucky sucks in a breath as her arms wrap around his torso, revs up the engine, then drives down the open road. He cannot hear her cries or feel the way her arms wrap tighter around his figure, afraid to let go and savoring the long awaited contact.

You are a monster, he tells himself.

“I love you,” she tries to say, but the engine drowns out her sentiments so that he can only hear the voices inside his own head.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #marvel #mcu #fic #captain america #avengers

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 4 years

Text

Changes (DonnyxFem!Reader)

requested by @struggling-bee

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn@struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz

Let me know if ou wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists!

________________________________

"What the fuck..." Smitty stopped at the doorway.

Aldo spoke just loud enough so only the basterds could hear. "Shut up... We're outnumbered." The basterds had just finished ambushing nazi patrols in the woods, each basterd disguised in stolen uniforms.

The basterds them decided to go to a tavern to have a few drinks.

"Shit..."

"Act natural."

Wicki ordered a round for the table of basterds.

While the rest of the club was wild and unruly, being full of off duty soldiers, the tavern sent out its star singers.

Hugo was halfway through his fourth beer.

Which was not much to him, but when he looked up, he thought he had enough. There was now way.

It was you...

It had to be you. He knew that face anywhere. In fact, anyone who was ever someone in Germany knew that face.

And that voice... There was nothing else in the world like it.

But...just like that, everyone else in that tavern knew it too.

Everyone else was enamoured by that echoing voice.

Hugo on the other hand, was just happy to see a familiar face... But happiness? That was an unfamiliar feeling.

Still...welcome...

And then...Donny looked up.

He couldn't understand a single word of the song you were singing.

Davon geht die Welt nicht unter...

All the tavern sang along.

It made the basterds force smiles to seem like they belonged.

And it made your blood boil to see so many nazis in a place that was once free.

But there was one thing that kept you smiling in the face of it all.

A memory of an old friend. The one that got away. Not fron you, but from them. And the hope of a future, where there were no more uniforms.

So you kept singing.

Because the war did not mean the world stopped turning.

Singing was all you had left.

Besides.

It gave you an image to hide what you really were.

An assassin.

An assassin hellbent on killing each and every nazi you set eyes on.

So as you sang, you stepped down from the stage and wandered around the crowd.

Eyeing each and every nazi you planned on killing, and passing drinks to them, enticing them with your short, tight black dress, red sating gloves, and your smile.

It might take you a while...but you got the job done.

Then...you spotted perhaps the most beautiful man you'd ever laid your eyes on...

And right next to him, the most stubborn, annoying, brooding man you'd ever met.

Your oldest friend, Hugo Stiglitz.

You looked right at him.

He laughed, and raised his beer up, knowing it was true.

You smiled.

Your heart began to beat again, and you madr ypur way to the table.

You knew he'd been broken out of prison by the basterds.

And you knew the stories...so that meant the boys at his table would be the one and only basterds.

As the tavern applauded and the next act took over, you ran to Hugo.

"Meine sonnenschein..." You tried to hold back tears of joy as you held him.

You never thought you'd see him again.

The basterds looked around at each other in confusion.

Wicki chuckled.

Aldo asked "What's so funny? Whats going on?

"She just called Hugo her sunshine."

Smitty was confused "She did? Imagine him being anyones sunsh-"

Omar shrugged "Unless..."

Donny sighed and nodded as he looked at you, "Yeah...unless..."

As you and Hugo caught up, you couldn't help but glance back at the table, back at Donny.

Hugo didn't quite catch that. He thought you were looking at them, wondering who they were.

"Its ok. Basterds." He spoke softly so no nazis would hear.

You nodded and smiled. "Stay...until closing?"

Hugo nodded.

So, after you finished your set, after the applause ended, and the bar closed, the staff and the singers remained. The basterds looked at them in susipicion.

You nodded, "its ok. We work with rhe resistsnce." The bar tenders saluted them and handed out drinks on the house for the basterds.

Aldo turned to look at the boys, then back at you and Hugo.

He was waiting for answers they all wanted. No one wanted answers more than Donny...

Hugo hadn't stopped smiling all night. Out of the entire tavern, he'd been the one applauding loudest, with a proud smile. And he was cheering... The only time the basterds had seen him like that was when Donny bashed nazi's brains in.

They definitely needed answers.

"This is Y/n. The longest pain the ass I've ever had."

Donny's mouth dropped. He only heard Hugo talk about you once, but it was enough. "Y/n... The y/n?"

You smiled... The way he said your name. With that...strange accent... Made your heart flutter. "Thats me."

Smitty, and the younger basterds were a little in the dark. "Who?"

Wicki chuckled. "Remember when Hugo wasn't a basterd, he killed 13 Gestapo officers?"

"Yeah..."

Wicki noddded "Well. Y/n was a bit of a popular local singer. She used to sing in all the big clubs in Frankfurt and Berlin, where the officers went. Everyone big, anyway." Hugo rolled his eyes. Wicki went on, "And she got their numbers, their addresses...you know.. And would make friends with them. But...being friends with Hugo...that gave him an advantage."

Hugo nodded reminiscing the old days.

He took a bullet for you.

And he would take a million more for you if he needed to.

Because he knew you, and knew that you hadn't really changed.

You still sang...so that must mean "Still in business then?"

You chuckled as you stirred a drink. On the house. "Naturally."

Donny was the most amazed by you. "... How?"

You giggled, and passed a drink to him, ran the back of your hand on his cheek, making him weak at the knees.

You giggled again, "That's how."

The boys laughed at him and he grunted, reaching for the drink in embarrassment, but you reached for it. Your gloved, silk red hand touching his, making his heart flutter.

"Sorry, Donny. This drink may have a bit too much arsenic in it for your liking."

"Arsenic?"

You nodded, "Of course! The only way to get away with this charade is poisoning! Little by little of course. They associate the ....effects with hangovers. And they all like free beer and what they see, so they come back for more every night... Of course... At some point some of them stop coming back ..."

They all looked at you in awe and you smiled "Well of course, widows dont know about this place, or we'd go up in flames." You winked at Donny... The only man in a long time to have his eyes drawn to you, not because of the tight black dress or the fishnet stocking or the red lipstick, or the lies you sang... But because of you. Your sinister, cynical path to justice was enough to make any basterd weak.

***

The basterds had never seen Hugo so happy... it was almost eerie. It was a whole new side of him. Of course, hes till didn't say very much, he just smiled...which none of them were used to seeing.

And to Donny, it was maddening.

Why?

Well...you drove him crazy.

And, the basterds went to that club often, but not often enough to raise suspicions... not often enough for Donny. But even when they did go, Hugo seemed to take up most of your time.

One day, the bsaterds went to the club. Or...tried to. They walked through the town, which was quieter than usual. In fact, there wasn't a soul. They could hear screaming, though.

They snuck around the town to avoid raising any suspicions, and then they saw it.

A pillar of smoke.

Nazis screaming about traitors, and then...gunshots.

Hugo's hands shook.

"Hugo, no, wait dor the sig-"

He wasn't waiting for anything. You were the only thing in the world he had left, and if the nazis took you from him, there would be hell to pay.

Donny, seeing the fire and the merciless didn't even give Aldo time to say anything to him.

He ran right in, along with Hugo, taking down any and every nazi in their path.

In the end, only a bar tender remained, with his dying breath he said your name.

Hugo turned to him, "Y/n..."

With his last moments, he pointed south, "Sud..."

They started rushing south, taking down any nazis in their way. Eventually, they found a trail of dead nazis.

"Did we go in a fucking circle?"

"No..."

"This wasn't us..."

Donny looked to the ground, and found a trail of blood. "This way."

They reached an abandoned shed, and heard a metallic clank. "Shit..." followed by the sound of a pistol loading.

"IT'S ME. IT'S HUGO."

"Go. Leave me. The world needs more basterds like you."

Then, they heard gunfire in the distance.

Aldo turned. Hugo was too emotionally invested. Aldo felt sympathetic, really, but he couldn't let their covers be blown.

"Hugo, Wicki, Smitty, cover the perimeter. Hirschberg, Omar, take the roofs. Donny, stay with the kid. I'll go in."

Everyone nodded, but Wicki and Smitty let Hugo take the post closest to you.

Hugo turned back, and saw you, laying on your back. Something dripping over your dress in the dark. The unmistakeble glisten of blood.

"You're hurt."

"Go. All of you." You gritted your teeth, looking at Donny.

Donny leaned over you, "Hey...it's ok, let me see."

Hugo turned and saw you. The same. You never changed.

When you first met, he was running scared. He'd stolen some bread. He was an orphan, he was seven years old, and had nothing, and no one in the world. He was caught, by you first... Your father owned the store, and called the police. You took the blame. From then on, you got into all sorts of trouble together.

Especially after 1936.

You were in it together. You got him access to the officers, you gave him the clear shots, just as you gave him bread for years. When he was caught, he made sure he kept your name out of it, no matter how bad the torture got. He made sure you got away.

Now, here you were again.

"Hugo, Bitte. Gehen."

Donny didn't understand, but he knew you. He'd seen you up on that stage enough to know that wasn't you. Your eyse weren't shining like they always were...

He knew your heart was breaking.

He looked at your wound. You'd been slashed with a knife. The gash was deep enough, and you'd lost enough blood to keep you from walking.

He did all he could to stop the bleeding, but on your own, you'd be doomed.

Hugo ignored your request. and as he fired at nazis in the distance he asled Donny, "How's she doing?"

Donny shook his head, "We have to go, now."

You pleaded, "Without me. Go."

Hugo turned to you, raising his voice, "Bist du verrückt?!"

Donny recognized that.

Every time Hugo did something extremely daredevilish, Wicki would yell that at him, asking if he was crazy.

"YOU LEFT A TRAIL OF NAZIS LIKE BREAD CRUMBS HERE. THEY'LL FIND YOU. DONNY-" He turned around and saw Donny was picking you up, "Already on it, Hugo."

Hugo nodded, and looked back.

It was a little quieter.

Hirschberg called out, "Hey! This way!"

They looked up at the roof, and he was pointing down the abandoned street, where Aldo had cleared a route for them.

They all followed, Hugo remained ahead of you as Donny carried you. But...in that moment, Hugo watched as the glitz and glamour of what remained of a free Germany faded away as you left your past behind. That problem child he'd known had grown up. War had finally gone too far. He'd almost lost you...

But in that moment, he saw something different.

You weren't looking at him.

You were looking up...

For a moment, his heart stopped, but then he realized you were looking up...at Donny.

He slowed down for a second.

"Hugo?" Donny looked at him. He knew Hugo cared about you, so he thought maybe it was just that. "You ok?"

Hugo nodded, "Ja."

He looked for a moment longer then turned around.

He was smirking...

Because if there was one thing that he could use to embarrass you, it was that.

And he did.

Because after that, you were a part of the team.

And you and Hugo were still close as ever, but...you'd speak to each other in German, and often, he'd bring up Donny's name, whenever he was within earshot.

You hated it.

Donny hated it. Especially seeing the smirk that Hugo had when he did.

And after a while, he had enough.

And he ranted to Wicki about it.

Wicki chuckled, "Alright, alright. Do you really wanna know what they're talking about?"

"Yes." He huffed.

Wicki sighed, "Y/n likes you. Hugo always brings it up to embarass her, and to piss you off."

"Sh...she likes me?"

'It's obvious."

"No...no it's not."

Wicki shrugged, "Well...they are German. They're....different."

Donny laughed a little, feeling relieved, and happy. "Ya don't say."

Wicki smiled, seeing how happy Donny seemed, "Well, don't tell them what I told you."

"Does she really-"

"Trust me." Later that day, they got word that a patrol was out in the woods.

Aldo had the basterds lined up, ready for anything. "I'm sending two'a y'all as scouts out there first, come back and tell us what 'em krauts got. What kinda artillery they're carrying, how many of em are there."

You knew at least one person that spoke German should go, in case you could overhear anything important. "I'll go."

Donny glanced at Wicki, and Wicki gave him a look, as if saying 'what're you waiting for?'

Donny stepped up, "Me too."

Hugo raised his eyebrow, then glanced at you, smirking, as if saying, 'what you've been waiting for.'

So you and Donny moved out into the woods.

You dropped your knife, and both of you reached for it.

Your hand grazed over his, like the night you met.

You looked away, blushing, "Thank you."

He cleared his throat, "No, uh, no problem."

As you walked, he said, "I didn't know you and Hugo went back."

"Way back. He's a pain in the ass."

"Oh I know," you both laughed, and your eyes met Donny's...

He smiled, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"You...uh... I don't want things to be weird, but-"

You looked at him, and knew something was different. You muttered under your breath, "Oh mein Gott... He told you?! I'll kill him!"

Donny shook his head, unable to retain his laugh, "No, no, he didn't!"

You raised your eyebrow for a moment,

"Wicki told me."

You groaned and rolled your eyes, "Look...let's just ignore it, and-"

"Wait," He reached out, and touched your hand again.

You looked back.

This time, he didn't let go.

You waited.

You understood.

You wrapped your hand around his, and he kissed you, pressing you gently against a tree.

Suddenly, you heard a twig snapping.

Both of you stopped and turned.

More annoyed, than anything else, really, when you spotted a nazi standing there, like a deer in headlights.

You sighed, and rolled your eyes as Donny groaned in annoyance.

Both of you raised your guns, and shot him down.

Donny smiled, "Now...where were we..."

You smirked, "Come on, Donny. We have a job to do."

He grinned, "We sure d-" He sighed "...oh you meant the job."

You nodded, amused.

He sighed, and pouted, "Fine."

Then, you heard, the nazi groan.

Donny crouched down, "Alright, buddy. Where's your camp?"

"Ich spreche kein Englisch, du Idiot!"

"Y/n?"

You chuckled a little, "He said he doesn't speak english. And he called you an idiot."

"Lucky I got you." He smiled up at you, and you realized he meant that.

You blushed a little, and sighed, "Alright." You looked down at the nazi, "Wo ist deine Einheit?"

He looked up at you and Donny, in sheer fear.

It was only beginning.

You and Donny would become a legendary unit, something to be feared, unstoppable. Fighting with and for each other.

And it was like that day in and day out.

One night, a night that went down in history, you both emerged from a fiery finale of the war, along with Omar.

You walked out into the street, where Hugo and Wicki were waiting.

They were hurt from the shooting in the bar, but they were alright.

Hugo mused, "Also werde ich bei deiner Hochzeit mit Donny sein?" Will I be at your wedding to Donny?

You blushed and looked away, but before you could answer, Donny mustered up all the German he knew, "Willst du mich heiraten?"

'Will you marry me?' Hugo and Wicki smiled and stepped back, watcing. Omar, not quite understanding until Donny got on one knee.

You clasped your hands over your mouth, as you nodded, forcing back tears of joy.

He stood up, all he had to offer was his dog tag in the mean time, but to you it was more than enough. He put his dog tag around your neck, he picked you up, and smiled, "Now...Where were we?"

Where were you?

As you stepped out of the war, you were right where you needed to be, at the beginning of your story with Donny.

#Donny Donowitz #donny-donowitz #donny donowitz imagine #donny donowitz x reader #Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #hugo stiglitz #Quentin Tarantino

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sakura-blossom28 · 4 years

Text

Modern Day Romance

Chapter 2

Here’s chapter 2! I love Gaara, he’s my favorite character so this was really fun to write! Sorry his history is a little long I tried to make it as close to what it really was with it being modern au! Let me know what you think!! Don’t own Naruto!

Ch 1 /

Dating had not come easily for Gaara. He was always alone, aloof, and reserved in showing any emotions. Well, that’s how he used to be. His upbringing had been a real struggle for his family. When his mother passed away during his birth, it put a real strain on the family. Instead of coming together with his father and siblings, they slowly drifted apart. Being shut out by his own family lead Gaara down a dark and violent path. With no supervision and access to their family’s wealth from a famous fashion magazine, Gaara was able to fuel early addictions that his young body could not tolerate.

Gambling had started his descent into his spiral out of control. By the time he was ten Gaara had started placing bets on games and dice in back allies behind the liquor stores in town, but the thrill of winning wasn’t enough. Eventually, he found his way to street fights. He was good of course from constantly fighting for years, but one night he bit off more than he could chew. The pain was unbearable, but that fight, in particular, had knocked Gaara’s brain around so much that something finally clicked. He needed to stop all of this, drinking, drugs, fighting. It all needed to stop.

Only at the sight of his siblings surrounding him with tears in their eyes did it all come together for him. All the times that he thought they didn’t care about him, didn’t he notice the concerned looks in their eyes? When he came home late at night, wasn’t there always some food and pain medicine left at the kitchen table? Seeing his brother and sister in such a state over him made him realize that he had acted cruelly towards them. They were scared of their own brother and he wanted to change that, but how?

He looked over to his father and did not see any emotions of caring in his eyes. More embarrassment at the situation. Maybe some relationships couldn’t change, but as long as Gaara could have his siblings that would be enough for him. He had no desire to attempt to change his relationship with his father, but it might be easier to deal with him if Temari and Kankuro started to like Gaara more.

“You’ve done enough to sully the family name. You will be sent away to learn how to behave like a proper human being. No discussions, you’re leaving as soon as you’re discharged,” his father said in a stern voice. They locked eyes to see who would drop first in a struggle for dominance. Gaara was the first, but he only closed his eyes.

“Yes. I will agree to that,” Gaara said quietly while keeping his eyes closed. His father turned to walk out of the room, but when he heard Gaara’s voice again he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Thank you… Father,” Gaara had not addressed his father with any form of a name since he was about six. Hearing those words shocked Gaara’s father to his core. The room went totally silent with everyone else holding their breath. Their father relaxed his shoulders and said, “Temari, find a suitable program… for your brother,” and he left without looking back at them. That was the first time that Gaara had been acknowledged as part of the family by their father. Yes, this was a change that Gaara needed…

Years later Gaara finished his rehabilitation with the help of his siblings. They had found a wonderful program that focused on violent behaviors and also allowed Gaara to go to school and earn a high school degree. It was a school located out in the desert and it helped Gaara connect to himself and others in the program. He was able to write letters to his siblings and that’s how they repaired their broken relationships and learned to care for each other again. Not only was the staff educated on how to help Gaara emotionally, but they also taught him better ways to channel his anger.

After graduating Gaara returned home. He had picked up the knack of gardening and especially enjoyed cacti. It helped him remember everything he learned. He also took up material arts which was offered at the school. Gaara was not surprisingly good at his new hobby, but he also made his first friend. On the first day of lessons, Gaara had knocked Lee, the teacher’s assistant, around a bit too much, he had so much frustration built up that he lost control. Gaara was so distraught about the whole situation he visited Lee in the hospital. He expected to be run out by the teacher, but when he walked in Guy and Lee all smiled at Gaara. He was so confused, but it felt so nice to be smiled at that Gaara stayed and got to know Lee. On their way out of the hospital, Guy had said something that Gaara would never forget.

“If you hadn’t come and visited Lee to make sure he was okay I would have kicked you off the team and reported back to the school that you might be unable to change, but the fact that you did speaks volumes. You have a willingness to be a good person. Keep working on yourself, listen to your teachers and people will accept you. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but it will be worth it in the end when you are surrounded by people who truly love you,” Gui patted him on the shoulder, flashed him a toothy grin and thumbs up and ran off down the block. Gaara hadn’t had any form of affection in years and he craved more.

Being on a dating app was not Gaara’s idea of fun. He barely kept up with his own personal social media accounts, except for his secret page about his small garden. Temari and Kankuro had created the profile for him. Kankuro was a photographer for their father’s magazine and Temari was a designer for the label as well. Most of his pictures on the profile were taken by Kankuro. He often posed for his brother because he enjoyed spending time with his family, even though they all started fighting as the session dragged on. No one could take charge. Their father had every attention to give the company to Gaara after he earned his degree, but Gaara knew that was not the life he wanted to live.

When he walked into his father’s office when he was eighteen, walking tall and had an air of confidence about him, his father was shocked at the man before him. Gaara was calm and spoke from his heart about how he had no intention of taking over the company, but wanted to go to school to become a therapist to help people that were like him. And that’s exactly what he did. His father saw that there would be no changing his mind, and he didn’t have the strength to argue anyway with the shock still rattling his brain that Gaara was this new person.

So here Gaara was sitting in his apartment looking at different girls in his area. Life was going well and Temari felt it was time he finally found a nice girl to pull the stick out of his butt. Gaara had never had a serious girlfriend before. Only casual flings, but they never heald his attention for very long. They normally weren’t a fan of his uncaring facade. Secretly, he was still worried about being rejected like he was with his family so many years ago. Was he willing to trust someone with such intimate feelings to have them leave if they didn’t like what they saw in him? He was only overthinking everything because of his job. Sure he helped people with addiction, but they also had their own struggles with relationships. He was just awful at taking his own advice.

He did feel this was better than meeting some girl at a bar. He didn’t typically go out much, but Kankuro insisted some nights to be his wing-man. It was enjoyable to watch his brother fail at picking up women. Temari was also no help. She only recommended women who were like her and those women happened to be a bit too intimidating for Gaara. At least on these dating apps, he could talk to the women first before deciding if they were annoying or not.

Gaara didn’t have a type, but he did seem to be attracted to women who smiled openly in their pictures. As he was scrolling he got a notification from one of his dating-apps. Sakura liked your picture! Tap to match! He hadn’t gotten a like in what felt like forever. Probably another goth girl who would find him boring once they started talking. With his look of mostly wearing black, Gaara attracted a certain type of woman. He dressed professionally while at work but during his downtime, Temari gave him everything that was off the rack that she thought that he would like. These girls thought he was a fashion guru, but he disappointed them time and again when he admitted that someone picked them out for him and he really didn’t care about labels. They seemed to ghost him after that.

When he opened the app he was met with a bright smile and sea glass green eyes that were like his own, but these eyes were filled with happiness. Gaara’s caught his breath when he looked at this girl Sakura. She was nothing like the girls who liked him before. Sakura was all sunshine and bright colors from her pink hair to her clothes. She was a nurse and enjoyed sweets and being outside. What surprised Gaara the most was what picture she had liked.

It was the very last picture on his profile and the only picture of him smiling. He was embarrassed when Temari insisted that she HAD to put in on. It was a dinner party a few months ago that Temari had thrown to announce her engagement to her longtime boyfriend Shikamaru. Lee had eaten something a little too spicy for his liking and was being his ridiculous self and Gaara just had to laugh at his misfortune. The fact that this girl Sakura looked at his whole profile and liked his picture was thrilling to Gaara. He had to talk to this girl, she seemed different if she liked a guy like him.

His hands started to type out a message before he realized what he was doing and pressed send to match with a Sakura Haruno...

Ch 3

#gaara x sakura #Sakura Haruno #Sabaku No Gaara #temari #Kankuro #shikamara nara #Rock Lee #might guy #modern au #dating au #My writing #gaasaku

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Rise Up

Ch.3: Lonesome Rogues

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC

Chapter Summary: The Snarts have made their way back to STAR Labs only this time they're in need of help.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog

Maritza Palayta knew by now not to expect many visits for her, from anyone. She counted herself lucky if Belén decided to stop by once a month. Having her mother sitting in front of her now was something beyond shocking.

"Mom?" the word tumbled from Maritza's mouth before she could even finished thinking.

Veronica stood on the other side of the glass, her facial features not as readable as they once were. She didn't know what to make of her eldest daughter now. She'd been there for Maritza's sentencing, head held high but nothing but disapproving of Maritza. Never in Veronica's mind did she ever consider her daughter becoming a metahuman and much less a criminal.

"I didn't expect you to visit me..." Maritza said after a minute of awkward silence. "At all."

"Should I?" Veronica's tone was cold, but Maritza knew she deserved it. In her mother's perspective, she ruined their reputation in the police department both in Central City and in Starling City.

"I don't know," Maritza answered honestly. "I don't let Axel visit, and I'm lucky if Belén decides to give me the time of day, so...to what do I owe this visit?"

Veronica closed her eyes, sighing. "If you haven't seen Belén already, I think you know what my situation is right now..."

"Ah," Maritza slightly raised her head. "Are you still bothering Belén about my son's custody? You know I left instructions, written out legally, of who I wanted to look after my son, right?"

"Maritza, we both know that Belén is neither ready nor has the means to sustain herself and a child," Veronica remained adamant in that aspect. She viewed this as logically as she could and it was the simple truth. On her own, Belén was able to pay for herself and do her own things, but having a child was something completely life-changing. "You and I, we had our children at a decent age. At a time where we were physically, emotionally and economically ready to care for a child."

"Well, one of us was," Maritza corrected coldly. "Because I may have gone down the wrong path, killed people, but I was always there for my son no matter what. Can you say the same? Where the hell were you?"

"I accept my faults," Veronica lowered her gaze, surprising Maritza for a second there. She'd never won a small disagreement like that, ever. "And after seeing how each of my children have ended up...I realize I should've been there more. It's why I want to try and get close to Belén."

"Your words are nice but your actions say something else," Maritza sighed. "You want Belén, fine, but on your terms and that's not going to work, Mom. And that's the problem. Mom, I love you, I really do. In your own way I know you love us back but you are making the biggest mistake of your life. You lost Dad, Rayan, me...do you really want to lose Belén too?" Maritza so desired for her mother to see the errors she was making. She would want nothing more than the last remaining family of hers to be together.

Veronica swallowed hard and looked down. "I am trying-"

"No, you're fighting," Maritza corrected her softly. "Mom-" she laughed softly, "-stop fighting and help Belén instead. You think it doesn't kill me to know she's struggling because she has to raise my son? I wish nothing more than to change what I did, but I can't. But you...you still have a chance to mend your errors. You want to have a relationship with Belén? Prove to her that you are committed to seeing her perspective for once."

Maritza hoped her mother would heed her words because she was sure if Veronica kept going forth with her plan, Belén would never forgive her.

~ 0 ~

"So my mother has filed for custody of Axel," Belén sighed as she explained to Barry. The two were sitting on the steps of her front porch. Little by little, they had scooted closer to each other. "Like, she actually filed for it. I thought she was angry and bluffing but she wasn't. And you know she did it because I said 'no' to going back with her to Star City."

Barry was honestly shocked to hear what Veronica did. He never had the pleasure of meeting her and actually talking with her in a full conversation, but this was enough to put her on his bad list. "I'm so sorry Belén..."

Belén sighed and glanced at him with a sad smile. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to spread my depressive news to you."

Barry smiled back for a moment before assuring her everything was fine. He'd come by with the intention of asking her to lunch since they still hadn't had the chance of going on a date since their break up. But as soon as he'd taken a look at her face - which was after asking her to lunch - he saw something was wrong. And boy was he right.

He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss. "We'll figure something out, Bells."

"C'mon. I'm 26 I don't know the first clue about being a pseudo-mother to a four year old. I'm selling my childhood house to keep up with bills. Maybe, on some level, my mom's right to file for custody..."

"You're doing everything you can, and you know what? If your mother is truly concerned then maybe she could help instead of doing...this!" Barry couldn't help the anger lacing his words the more he thought about Veronica's actions. "If she wants to fight, then let's make sure our fight is a damn good one."

Belén was smiling softly, and he had no idea why. The way he'd automatically joined her side with 'our fight' made her feel...warm. She missed that. A lot. "I'm glad you're around again."

The smile that came to Barry's face was automatic. His hand gripped hers and there was a moment where he thought he couldn't ever let go of her hand. "So am I."

"And...I'm sorry about the whole...date thing...I'm-"

"-I get it Bells," Barry reassured her again. "We can go another time."

"Are you sure?" Belén asked, still mighty guilty. It'd been some time since they technically were trying to be together again and it was rather hard to do when there were no dates involved.

"Yes! C'mon," Barry stood up and, with his hand still holding hers, made her get up as well. "Let's go to STAR Labs. Cisco might be done with the breach search, remember? Portals into another world might be something fun to see, you know..."

Belén dramatically sighed. "For nerds, I guess." Barry deadpanned her until she laughed. "Alright, let's go see this breach thing. I need to pick up Axel anyways."

~0~

Indeed Cisco had finished with the breach search and found quite more than he would've thought. Down in the basement of STAR Labs gathered the group save for Stein, Iris and Joe to look at the biggest breach of them all...which turned out to be out of 53 in the entire city. It resembled a blue, moving blob suspended in air over a small platform.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Cisco couldn't stop looking at the breach.

"It looks like a blob," Belén crinkled her nose. Cisco immediately shot her a look of offence for diminishing the breach's worth.

"Still can't believe what I'm looking at," Jay admitted.

"52 breaches in Central City, and the biggest one just happens to be in our basement," Caitlin remarked, totally unsurprised by the turn of events.

"We need a name for it," Cisco popped a finger in the air.

"It's not a pet, dude," Barry's words meant nothing for Cisco who was already on a brainstorming path.

"No," professor Stein walked in carrying a squared monitor hanging on a strap, "It's a wormhole."

Caitlin immediately turned for the man. "Professor Stein, what are you doing? Your blood pressure is 147 over 82! You could pass out again."

Stein didn't look the least bit worried over his condition despite the fact he had collapsed a few days ago while giving the group a lecture. "Oh, it's merely a few points above the 140 average for someone my age. Besides, I have some ideas I would like to contribute to this discussion, Dr. Snow."

"And I want to hear them. This isn't just a wormhole. It's my way home," Jay reminded them all. "Back to Earth Two."

"Jay, you really think that we can use this as some kind of bridge from your world to ours?" asked Barry.

"Zoom uses the breaches. Why can't we?"

"We don't know how. Everything I put through just bounces back," Cisco sighed.

Axel, who had been left sitting at a nearby desk looked up from his drawings he was working on. "Can we throw more things!?" he excitedly asked.

Not even waiting for the answer, he grabbed his crayon box and hopped off his chair to run for the breach. He and Cisco had taken turns throwing things into the breach earlier to see if they would come back and he was mighty disappointed when Caitlin came in to tell them not to do it anymore. He liked seeing everything they threw be bounced back at them.

"Cisco!" Belén exclaimed as the boy made a beeline for the breach, his arm already raised to throw the crayon box.

"Got him!" Cisco snagged Axel of his feet as he passed by him.

"Aw," Axel frowned. Everyone laughed at the young boy.

"I can't believe you," Belén shook her head at Cisco for yet again teaching something wrong to her nephew.

"If Zoom's using these breaches to transport people from Earth Two, maybe it takes a speedster," Barry suddenly theorized and gave a smirk.

"Barry don't-" Belén didn't get to finish when he sped out of the room. "He wouldn't…" she dared to think that Barry wouldn't be that impulsive.

But...Jay knew better. "Yeah, he is," he answered with eyes shut.

A second later, Barry sped into the room straight for the breach only to be thrown backwards. He landed in a small roll on the floor and groaned. "Maybe I'm not fast enough."

This time it was only Axel who burst into laughter. "Boom! Barry went boom!"

"Yeah!" Cisco gave him a high-five, missing Barry throwing them a mini-glare as he got back on his feet.

"I don't believe your speed is the entirety of the issue, Barry. It might be the breach's stability or lack thereof," Stein hypothesized more correctly.

"He's right," Jay nodded. "We need to think of the breach as a door, and on Earth Two, there's another door. In between, we have a hallway, but the hallway's constantly shifting, twisting, collapsing upon itself. And the doors keep moving with it."

"So we stabilize the door, we stabilize the hallway," Cisco understood the idea.

"And then I can jump through it," Barry beamed.

"Exactly, it would serve as a kind of cannon," Jay smiled but no one like Cisco.

"A speed cannon. Mm. We should hang out more," Cisco pointed at him, making the others laugh.

"Alright," Stein cut into the laughter. "No more tests today. All of you are leaving now, as am I. Cherish the gift of youth as I will go cherish my much needed nap." He motioned the entire group to get going. "Clarissa's already on her way to pick me up. Why not go get some coffee?"

"That is a fantastic idea!" Cisco agreed, already rubbing his hands together at the thought of some sweet coffee. "Jitters anyone?"

"You paying?" Belén teased.

"Can I get some chocolate milk?" Axel rushed up to Belén with his own hands put together. When Belén saw that she sighed do deeply.

"You have got to stop spending so much time with Cisco, buddy."

The others snickered while Cisco let out a mighty offended gasp with a hand over his chest.

~0~

Iris joined the group for some midday coffee and was excited to hear about the breach discovery, though not so much after she learned there 53 in their city. While Barry went to get their coffee, the others remained at the table chatting. Belén, however, was pulled away from the conversation when her phone started ringing. Seeing it was her mother calling, she dumped her phone into her purse and decided to go help Barry bring back their drinks.

"Need some help?" she asked him.

"Still waiting," Barry motioned to the barista running behind the counter. "You okay?" he noticed her anxious expression.

"Yeah," she said a bit too fast to be convincing. "Mom's calling and all."

"And you're not going to answer?"

"Not if I don't trust myself not to shout."

Barry thought that was fair enough. He pressed a kiss to her temple and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him. Belén smiled to herself and got to thinking about the fact they hadn't really kissed either.

What kind of getting-back-together is this? Belén wondered if Barry had thought about it too. If he had, then he was being really good about it.

"Order 20!" A barista slid a coffee on the counter then hurried to continue with other orders.

A blonde woman leaned on the couple's side to reach for her drink then offered a shy smile at them once they could see her clearly. Only a couple days were needed to learn that Patty Spivot was a shy woman.

"Hey guys," she greeted with a wave of her free hand. She seemed far more cheery than when they first met her (separately). It stemmed from the fact she was finally on the metahuman task force at the precinct.

"Hey, Patty," Barry greeted. He looked down at Belén and realized he never introduced them, not that they didn't know each other already. "Oh, this is-"

Belén chuckled and lowered his gesturing hand before he could finish. "We already know each other, don't we?" she looked at Patty who laughed as well.

"Yeah, she's the one that gave me the advice to continue hassling Joe for a spot on the task force."

"I've been meaning to congratulate you, actually," Belén said. "Barry told me Joe let you in. I'm sure you'll be great."

Patty sheepishly smiling. "I'm hoping." Her smile sort of faltered when she noticed Belén's injured arm was...no longer injured. "Sorry, um...how's your arm?"

"Hm?" Belén quickly looked at her perfect arms. Her metahuman abilities kicked in and aided her in healing quicker than a normal human.

"Oh, um, it's fine. It's still a little sore but since the bullet didn't actually hit my arm it healed quicker," Belén cleared her throat and looked at the counter that was being filled with their drinks. Patty seemed to buy it since she gave an 'oh' and smiled about it.

As Barry tried gathering all of the, together, Belén laughed and decided to help. "Bells, it's hot," he said and then motioned to her hands.

"Oh shut up," she playfully rolled her eyes and took at two cups. She glanced back at Patty who was taking a sip of her coffee. "Do you want to have some coffee with us?"

Patty's eyes snapped back to the two. "Hm? Oh, no thanks," she shook her head. "I was stopping here on my way to work. Another day? I owe you for your help."

"Sure," Belén beamed at the idea.

"Great," Patty stepped aside to let the two get on with their coffee.

"C'mon," Belén led Barry away. "I like her."

"I do too. She's lively and she knows her way around a crime scene," Barry said, missing Belén's sarcastic glance.

"Hmm, young, pretty, blonde and a nerd? Should I be worried?"

"Wh-what!?" At that point he nearly did dropped the cups in his hands. "I-I no! That's...that's not at all what I meant, Bells!"

Belén laughed as they approached their table.

"What's with you two?" Iris eyed them.

"Oh, nothing, just teasing Barry on his new girlfriend," Belén said calmly as she took her seat next to Axel.

"She's not-" Barry began rather adamantly before he realized this was just another play of hers. He sighed and shook his head. "That's not funny," he pointed at her with a stern finger.

"Seems pretty funny from my end," she said slyly and picked up her coffee.

"Hey, you guys think Professor Stein is okay, right?" Caitlin didn't even pick up her own cup before thinking yet again on Professor Stein. "I mean, Clarissa would call if there was anything wrong."

"Yeah, of course," Barry said to her, but apparently it wasn't enough to convince her.

She grabbed her phone and started getting up. "All right. I'm just gonna call and check in. I'll be back."

"Uh- I don't see that call going well," Cisco said right before he started imitating Stein. "Young lady, these repeated intrusions are interrupting what should be a speedy recov-" but in the midst of his mockery he bumped into a passing brunette woman. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

The brunette looked up and revealed herself as Lisa Snart who answered in her usual flirty tone. "Don't apologize. You can bump into me any day, Cisco."

"Lisa Snart," Cisco's eyes widened.

"Oh, hell no," Belén said outright annoyed. Meanwhile, Barry tried hiding behind his coffee cup.

"You here to double-cross us again, or are you and your big bro holding up coffee shops now?" asked Cisco.

"Auntie Belén," Axel once again tugged on her good arm. "Who's she?"

"Someone who needs to go," Belén answered loudly for Lisa to get the point. "I would think you and your brother would stay away from places where there's children present."

Lisa didn't respond in her usual snarky tone. "I need your help," she said instead.

"In your dreams, Sister Cold," Cisco nearly laughed.

"I think her brain was finally frozen," Belén stared at the woman. "You do realize we could call in the Flash and the Azalea at any moment, right?"

Lisa nodded. "Call him. I know you two have a thing, so call him."

Barry nearly choked on his coffee while Belén gaped. Iris just smirked - she kinda liked this Lisa Snart.

"Unbelievable," Belén looked away, her face rather warm. "Was it that obvious?"

Her response was a very loud scoff from Iris.

Cisco had been studying Lisa in the meanwhile and had noticed something was just off with her. There was an actual shred of fear sitting in her eyes, and...concern? Was that even possible in a Snart?

"You really want us to call then," he said in realization.

"I need their help too," Lisa confessed. "My brother's been kidnapped."

~ 0 ~

Of course very curious to see what Lisa meant, the group took her back to STAR Labs to get the full story. However, both Belén and Barry made the excuse they had to go take Axel somewhere else - they may have forgotten their excuse as soon as Lisa was gone with Caitlin and Cisco. Instead, they let Iris take Axel and the two beat the trio to STAR Labs to get changed.

"I saw it happen," Lisa swore. She stood in the middle of the cortex, explaining her situation to the group before they would send her off. "Last night, Lenny, me, and Mick were knocking over the cashier's cage at Central City Racetrack-"

"Does it physically pain your family not to rob people?" Belén blamed herself for being so surprised when she knew she was dealing with a family of criminals.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "I never finished the job. After Mick torched through the side entrance, I looked back for Lenny and saw him getting thrown into the back of a van."

"And why didn't you and Mick follow?" asked Barry.

"I would have. Someone hit me from behind and knocked me out," Lisa gestured to her head. "When I came to, Lenny was gone, and Mick already made off with the cash."

"How do we know this isn't some kind of a trap?" Cisco logically wondered.

"If Lenny wanted Flash dead, he would have let Mardon, Simmons, and Bivolo take that honor, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Barry mumbled, thinking of it as yet another logical reason not to help them again.

"Good. Then you'll also recall that you owe Lenny a favor for saving your life. Time to make good on that debt."

"Even if we wanted to help, how are we supposed to find him?" Barry asked honestly.

Cisco turned on his feet and walked for the desk. "Not a problem. See, when I rebuilt the cold gun, I didn't have time to place a tracker on it, so I devised a method of locating it by borrowing some military technology." He started typing on the computer. "See, the gun works the same as thermal imaging, only instead of infrared heat signatures, it's looking for ultraviolet cold signatures. Whoa, look at that. The gun's UV thermal reading was last picked up at 5th and Hoyt eight minutes ago."

"All right. Let's see if you're a liar," Barry said to Lisa before speeding out.

"I'm not," Lisa argued but he had already left.

"That's debatable," Belén said under her breath, but not as quiet as she thought because Lisa had heard perfectly.

As it turned out, Cisco was right on where to find Snart. However, they did not account for Snart being with his father. As a result, Barry ended up being nearly frozen to death. Thanks to Cisco's new addition to the suit, the ice melted into nothing and he was able to return to STAR Labs where he had half a mind to tell Lisa Snart off.

"So your brother was not kidnapped. He was pulling a job with your father," he sourly informed Lisa upon arriving.

Lisa was nothing but confused. "What? No, Lenny would never do that."

"Oh, just like he would never try and kill The Flash with his cold gun?" Belén pretended to think. "Do you know your brother?"

Lisa still couldn't get over the confusion. It was the first clue that perhaps she wasn't lying to them. "Are you sure it was my dad?"

Cisco pulled up a reference file of her father. Caitlin walked over to the computer hanging on the wall. "That's him. Lewis Snart. Convicted of larceny, armed robbery, aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon."

"You have to believe me," Lisa pleaded. "Lenny would never work with him," she then added, like it was a secret no one in the room knew, "He's a bad guy."

"Did you miss the memo or something?" Belén honestly wondered if Lisa was just pretending she and her family weren't criminals. She was aware she was being ruder than usual but when it came to the Snarts she had no control.

"Why should we trust anything you say?" Caitlin crossed her arms.

Lisa stared at them a minute and then pulled on her jacket and blouse's collar to reveal a long scar running around the side of her neck. "I didn't get this scar being a criminal. I got it being a daughter," she mumbled and walked away.

The others, feeling a bit guilty, meant to follow her and get her back when Cisco stopped them. "Let me go. I got this," he made a gesture and left the room.

"I have to get to work," Belén knew she couldn't last long in the same room as a Snart. She was going to crack. "Every time I see a Snart all I think of is my sister's secret. Maybe the Azalea can take a rain check here."

"Don't worry," Barry said, understanding this wasn't one of her best moments. "We'll call you if something comes up."

Belén thanked him for it and took her leave. However when Barry got to thinking what she was planning on doing at work, he followed her out to the elevators.

"Uh, Bells, hold on a minute," his call stopped her in time. "About that article you, Linda and Iris are doing..."

Belén nodded, already knowing where this was going. She'd talked to him and the others about what they were doing and needless to say he was a little concerned with her decision.

"Barry, it'll be fine," she tried to say but he just couldn't agree so easily.

"I just don't think it's a good idea looking at where we are right now," he sighed. "You wanting to be the Azalea isn't the problem here, you know..."

"I do," Belén agreed, crossing her arms. "But if I live my life in fear because someone from another world decided to hunt me down...I'll never be happy."

"Datura is hunting you down for whatever reason and you letting the city know that the Azalea is alive might just give her more fuel to hurt you."

"Either way, Barry, she's coming to hurt me," Belén stepped closer to him, putting on her best encouraging smile for him. "Might as well let her know who she's dealing with."

Barry's lips briefly quirked into a smile. He loved hearing her so brave and sure of herself. He didn't want to be the reason it disappeared, but he just wished he could stop worrying so much.

~ 0 ~

Belén met with Linda to look over their almost finished draft. Since it was Iris' day off, they wanted to have everything finished for tomorrow so they could just give it another proofread and turn it in.

"This is really good," Linda said after reading some of Belén's lines. "Your perspective on the Azalea's disappearance is really interesting."

"Thanks," Belén felt a little ridiculous for taking a comment about a piece she did about herself. "I just think the city should wonder if this woman was away for so long then maybe it's for a big reason."

"I think they'll believe it," Linda said with absolute certainty. "And you know what, maybe reading this might encourage the Azalea to come back."

Belén smiled at their draft. "I think so."

"Belén?"

Belén inwardly groaned when she heard her mother's voice. "Mom," she turned away from her desk to find Veronica approaching her. "Seriously? You can't do this at my job-"

But Veronica calmly raised a hand to stop her. "I'm not here to argue. I want to talk. For real."

Admittedly this did stump Belén for a minute. Her mother seemed calm, calmer than any time she'd seen her as of late.

"You can talk in the conference room," Linda suggested, nodding her head towards the empty room behind her. "No one will bother you there."

"Thank you," Veronica told her before walking towards the room, leaving not much of a choice for Belén.

"I'll be back soon," Belén promised Linda then followed her mother. She closed the glass doors and readied herself for whatever her mother threw at her.

"Bells, your mother's here…" Caitlin's eyes were widened as a gesture that she was pretty nervous of Veronica's appearance.

"Belén, please. I have a proposition," Veronica came out with it in one go, however Belén had a different idea of what she meant by a proposition.

"If it's me and Axel getting out of the city then you can forget-"

"I want to stay," Veronica surprised Belén so much that for the next minute Veronica had free range in the conversation to say what she needed to. "I've been going wrong about this, and I get it, and I'm sorry. I'm just...I've lost my kids, and not just from the divorce, but from life. Rayan's gone, Maritza's gone, even David's gone. And I thought that staying away was the best thing. I've always done better when I'm alone..."

"How'd that work out for you this time?" Belén crossed her arms, unable to keep her resentment at bay. "Because for us it didn't go too well."

"I was wrong," Veronica knew those three words would become part of her daily vocabulary. "I have never been very good at expressing my feelings and when I do they're always in the wrong manner. But you just have to know that I do love you, okay? You're my daughter, how could I not?"

"I have never doubted that," Belén said quietly, shifting on her feet. "But you have never, ever, tried to see things from another person's perspective. Everything always has to be your way or it just blows up."

"I know, I see that now," Veronica nodded her head. "That's why I want to stay here in the city, and change, so that I can be that mother you need. I know things will never be perfect, but I want to try."

"You say that now but by Sunday you'll be back to your regular self," Belén remarked.

"Not this time. I mean it. I already made calls to SCPD to transfer here."

Belén's eyes widened. "You...you did that?"

"Mhm. I'm hoping to get transferred here, at the CCPD. And look," Veronica went back to her purse where she pulled out a manila folder, "this is something else I think could be good for both of us." She walked up to Belén and held out the folder.

Eyes glued on her mother, Belén took the folder and opened it up. She skimmed a couple of lines which resulted in a contract...and proposition?

"What the hell is this?" she looked up.

"I want to buy the house off you," Veronica declared. Belén's mouth fell open once again. "It's clear you and I can't live together, and maybe it's for the best now. You're a young woman who, as you've said, is trying to make her life now. You're selling the house and I would like to buy it."

Belén's eyes nearly popped out from her head from how wide they were.

"And-" Veronica continued with a gesture that Belén should keep looking through the papers, "-I want you to sign Axel's custody over to me, but-" she raised a finger when she saw Belén opening her mouth to argue, "-with conditions. I honestly don't think you are ready to take on the responsibility of a child. It's not that I think you are incapable. I just think you're too young for this."

"I am-"

"Belén please just stop being stubborn and view things logically for a moment," Veronica pleaded. Belén snapped shut the folder but adhered to the request. "You're at the starting point of your life. You just had an accident, your job is barely beginning, and I even hear you're starting a relationship again, and all that gets complicated when you have a child to look after. Tell me you haven't gone crazy looking for babysitters? Axel goes to school now and that can't be easy when it's only three hours a day. Plus, I can't imagine the sleepless nights you've had trying to look after him. He's four and he doesn't have his mother anymore. I know you're trying, but...it has to be hard for you, right?"

Belén bit her lip, her initial annoyance subsiding when she got to thinking. Of course there'd been days where she just couldn't find someone to look after Axel while she went to train for the aerial show or even just to go to work. There were sleepless nights that often had her nearly falling asleep at work. Then there were moments that she just didn't know how to talk to Axel, especially when he asked about Maritza.

"I'm not trying to take Axel away from you. On the contrary, I want to stay here in the city, live in the old house with Axel where you and I can make plans to see each other more often. I'm going to get old eventually," Veronica smiled lightly, "And when that time comes, you'll probably have a family of your own and then you'll know how to care for Axel and your children. It'll be your decision to have them."

Belén re-opened the folder to look things over again. Her mind was fumbling with different ideas but they were all screaming at her to agree. This was the closest thing her mother had ever done to benefit her and Belén couldn't find it in her to disagree when her mother seemed to be honest. Because in the end, she did love her mom and she did want to form some sort of relationship before it was too late.

~ 0 ~

Returning to STAR Labs (as the Azalea), Belén came to quite a sight. Lisa was sitting on a stool with Barry and Caitlin, the former as the Flash and holding some sort of whirring device in front of Lisa's neck.

"What in the hell is going on here?" Belén walked over to them.

"There's a bomb inside Lisa's that her father put," Caitlin responded then moved on to tell Barry, "Once you hold it steady with the magnet, I can surgically excise it."

Cisco came running into the room shouting for them to stop. "Put the magnet down! This is a really concentrated bomb. It's gonna combust if it's exposed to magnetic friction and an oxidant."

Caitlin and Barry retracted one large step away from Lisa who shared the same confused face as Belén.

"In English please?" Belén asked them.

"Air. Uh, the bomb will explode if it comes in contact with air," Barry replied.

"Scientific minds. Can we confer, please?" Cisco motioned to be followed into a side room.

"Yeah, I'm not scientific but I don't want to be near her," Belén mumbled and flashed an apologetic smile at Lisa. "This time no offence."

For once Lisa smiled back.

"What if Flash speed extracts it?" Caitlin wondered once they were in a separate room.

"Nope, it's too risky," Cisco shook his head. "I'm gonna find a way to get it out. I just need a little time."

"But you could lose track of Snart and his dad," Belén pointed out.

"I wish we knew what he was gonna steal next and when," Barry said, thinking. It only took a moment for an idea to pop into his head. "Maybe I can get them to tell me. Their tech guy is dead, so I'm betting they're gonna need a new one. I should infiltrate Lewis' crew."

Belén burst into a fit of laughter but abruptly stopped when she met Barry's offended face. "Oh, you weren't kidding?"

"No, I wasn't," Barry frowned.

"You're gonna pretend to be a criminal?" even Caitlin was surprised of the idea.

"How hard can it be?" Barry shrugged, not thinking about it too much.

"How do I say it nicely…?" Belén mumbled, thinking for a minute before coming up with, "...you're kind of a dork."

Barry tilted his head at her. Was this the best she could come up with? And she was trying to be nice. "Well, as long as you're being nice."

Belén smiled. "You know I mean that affectionately, but...you just have a thing about you that screams…"

"Nerd?" Cisco finished, or blurted.

Belén laughed again. "That's the word!"

Barry shook his head at them. "Thanks guys, really."

"Oh, c'mon," Belén couldn't stop laughing however and so Barry left the room before they added more to his apparent persona.

~0~

"He actually went through with it," Belén couldn't say she was surprised Barry went through with his idea to pretend to be a criminal and tag along with Snart and his dad.

Caitlin laughed as the two walked for the cortex holding respective cups of coffee in their hands. "I think he might have done it just to prove us wrong."

When the two women returned to the cortex Cisco had devised a new way to retrieve the bomb from inside Lisa. He had fashioned a gun-like device with a fitted clear tube sticking above from it.

"What exactly are you gonna do to me with that thing?" Lisa hadn't stopped staring at the big gun she knew was going to be aimed at her pretty soon.

"Operating pressure on this is over 1,000 PSI. This will easily suck the micro-bomb out of your neck and into the barrel of this with one high-powered sho," Cisco tapped the top of the gun. "There is one slight risk."

"Besides shooting a high-powered weapon directly against my neck? "

"The gun does use compressed air," Cisco admitted and looked at the other two women.

Lisa reached a hand on his arm and softly said. "I trust you, Cisco."

"Maybe that's one thing we have in common," Belén smiled at Cisco. "Do your thing. But, uh...we'll be over here," she gestured to herself, Axel and Caitlin.

Cisco nodded a thanks and moved a bit to the side to finish the last bit of the gun. Almost at the same time, Belén's cellphone went off. She took it and walked to the side to take Iris' call, not that she had much of a conversation since Iris was in a fit.

"Bells? I need you!" Iris blurted frantically, worrying Belén she was in trouble.

"What? What is it!?"

"It's just...my dad told me that...that my Mom was actually alive and-"

"He what?" Belén's mouth fell open. "She's...like...breathing-alive?"

"Oh yeah, the whole thing. Please, I just...I really need someone I can talk to with 'mom problems'. Didn't even know I could have those," she mumbled in the end.

"Y-yeah, don't worry. Are you home?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll be right over," Belén promised and hung up. "I have to go but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Is everything alright?" Caitlin asked once she detected something was off in Belén's tone.

"Yeah, um...I hope," Belén pushed herself up from her chair. "I'll be back later, promise."

"We'll handle things," Caitlin assured.

Belén thanked her once more and hurried to find Iris. Like the woman had said, Iris was sitting at home completely alone. She had Axel coloring at the dining table actually quiet. She had pulled up several of her old albums that happened to contain some of her mother's pictures. It was all completely crazy to her. First, she thought her mother was dead and now apparently Francine was more than alive. But then...her father told her that Francine was dying. How was she supposed to think when there was all that behind it?

She nearly jumped from the couch when she heard someone knocking. She opened it up and was relieved to find Belén on the other side. "Thanks for coming, Bells."

"Yeah, of course," Belén walked in but not before giving her a hug. "I can't believe your mom's alive."

"Me neither," Iris said and closed the door. "I didn't have anyone to talk to about this. I mean, I tried getting through to Barry but he wasn't answering-"

"Oh, he's off being a criminal," Belén waved that off and headed into the living room. Iris made a face behind but filed that under 'ask later'.

"Bells, I'm so confused. I saw her today," Iris stopped by the couch, allowing Belén to sit down first. Belén reached for an open photo album with a picture of a baby Iris and her mother. "Like...she was there, and…" Iris shook her head, still unable to believe it.

"How is she?" Belén thought to ask.

"She's...put together," Iris took a seat beside her. "My Dad said that...she used to be a drug addict. She was put together and I told her...to go away. That's what I said to her."

"I think that's completely understandable. I mean, if she left…"

"Oh, she left," Iris said with a bit of resentment in her tone. "She just got up and left and then suddenly decided she wanted to see me again." But even then Iris knew that wasn't the complete truth. "She's...sick. That's what she told my dad. But...I don't know if I can believe her. She's made my dad lie this whole time who knows what comes out of her mouth now."

"Well, you're a reporter, research her," Belén instructed. "You're the daughter of a cop, and a badass of a reporter. This is your perfect talent. Use it."

"And if it turns out to be true?" Iris asked quietly. "If my mom...is dying...what do I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do," Belén shook her head. "I mean, you see the problems I'm having with my own mother, but if Francine came back at this moment...she probably wanted to make amends before she…" made a gesture and sighed. "But you have to be really committed. You can't do it out of guilt. It's okay if you don't want to know her because the truth of the matter is, while biologically she's your mother...she was never A a mother to you. I think she would understand that."

Iris nodded. "Yeah," she mumbled.

Belén stared at her for a minute before reaching over and hugging her again. "Come here!" Iris smiled as she was rocked a bit by the woman. "If you want we could research together."

Iris truly thought about it for a minute but went against it in the end. "I need to do it alone. But thank you so much."

"Don't worry, I understand," Belén nodded her head. "But you also need to understand that I'm gonna hug you for five more minutes."

Iris laughed.

~ 0 ~

At one point in the heist he was being forced to pull, Barry wondered how he would rub it in Belén's face that his plan had gone right so far. She thought he was too dorky to actually play off being a trained techy criminal. She so owed him, that much he knew.

Now as the Flash, he appeared to Snart and his father right at the end of their heist, ready to stop them. Both of them were getting ready to leave the vault with all the diamonds they found.

"Only place you're going is back to Iron Heights, Lewis," Barry spat at the older man he really disliked, and not just because he had shot him five minutes ago.

Snart raised his cold gun at Barry but did not shoot. Lewis, on the other hand, just smiled. "Ah, you wanna bet?"

That was the question wasn't it? Barry raised a hand to his earpod. "Do I wanna bet?

"Do not bet!" he immediately heard Cisco's shout. "Give me a minute."

"Tell me this, what kind of man puts a bomb in his own daughter?" Barry started to ask, hoping Cisco wouldn't be too long.

"A very rich man," Lewis smirked. "Shoot him, son." But as Snart failed to do so, Lewis pulled out a small, silver device that Barry assumed was the controller of the bomb inside Lisa. "Kill him or you'll never see your sister alive."

Barry wondered how this could play out where both he and Lisa got out alive. Thankfully, he didn't have to think for too long before he heard Cisco's 'okay'.

"Lisa's safe," he told Snart. Almost on reflex, Snart redirected his cold gun at his father and shot him square in the chest.

Lewis fell on his knees with nearly his entire body covered in ice. "You're working with The Flash? I thought you hated him?"

"Not as much as I... hate you," Snart responded, almost trembling from the hatred he felt for the man now dead on the floor.

Barry cautiously moved up to Snart and gently pulled the cold gun from his hands - to which the other man didn't even fight for. "Lisa was safe. Why did you do that?"

Snart looked up with cold eyes. "He broke my sister's heart. Only fair I break his."

~0~

With the Snarts' dilemma finished - however badly it was - the rest of the team called it a day. Belén hadn't stopped by STAR Labs anymore due to the time, so she left Iris' place with Axel and returned home. She put Axel to bed, with the promise that things would be looking better for them now. He was certainly excited to learn his grandmother would be staying in the city. His excitement deterred his sleep but eventually, after two or three bedtime stories, Belén got him to fall asleep.

She had to admit, the idea of having her mother around - on good terms - was something that made her smile.

Her thoughts about the new arrangement were interrupted when she found her dining table decorated with candles and dinner she'd most certainly hadn't cooked. (She may or may not have bought Axel take out and called it dinner).

"This is a surprise," she admitted when she saw Barry standing next to the table. He was holding one azalea in his hand and was wearing a nice outfit.

"The many perks of being a speedster means I can basically be a ninja," Barry smirked which just made her laugh. He moved up to her and held the azalea out for her. "I know we didn't have a chance for a nice date outside and I know it's just harder for you right now, so...I thought maybe a house-date might work better."

"House date," Belén repeated with a soft chuckle. "Thank you for that." She took her azalea from his hand and gave it a sniff. "And thank you for my flower. My deadly, poisonous flower."

"Yeah, keep that away from Axel..."

Belén playfully rolled her eyes and gazed at the dinner table. "Thank you for this. All of it. I really love it. I'm just sad I'm not better dressed."

"What are you talking about? You're looking lovely as usual," Barry dramatically gestured at her.

"Barry, stop," Belén laughed but Barry continued on with his compliments, from her hair to her shoes. Eventually she managed to quiet him down only to keep Axel from waking up.

The two sat close to each other at the table and started on their dinner. It was from the same restaurant they visited on their first date.

"Good points, Mr. Allen," Belén pointed her fork at Barry. "Only this time I'm not going to spit anything out."

Barry nearly laughed when he remembered her spitting out a spicy meal she'd ordered on their first date. "I thought it was cute."

"It was awful. I'm surprised you didn't walk out there and then," Belén reached for a sip of her drink.

"Why would I? You were gorgeous then, and now I know you're the best thing that could ever happen to me."

Belén lowered her fork for a moment to smile at him. "You're smooth tonight. Thanks."

"I'm just glad you're smiling again," Barry passed a finger under her chin, widening her smile.

It was then that Belén realized she hadn't told him about her mother's latest visit that day. "My mom stopped by again..."

"Oh, Belén..." Barry figured Veronica pushed her again and was prepared to comfort her.

"No! Um...things actually got better," Belén felt weird just saying that sentence about her mother. She was so used to always having problems with Veronica. "She um, she...she made a proposition. She's buying the house from me. She's going to live here, actually, with Axel."

"She still made you give up custody?"

"No, uuh...I agreed," Belén nodded. She drew in a big breath before explaining her reasoning. "I love my nephew, I do, but I'm fully aware that I'm not ready to take care of him nor any child for that matter. I'm trying my best but if things keep going the way the were...I'm going to drown, Barry. I'm just...I'm not ready for it and I just want Axel to be okay..."

Barry set his hands on her shoulders to keep her from going into a long ramble that would eventually turn her face purple due to lack of oxygen. "I get it. You don't need to explain it to me."

"I don't want you to think I'm giving him up like if he were nothing."

"I would never think that. I've seen firsthand how much you love him. If you're making this choice it's because you're sure Axel is going to be okay. He's going to be good."

"I think he will be," Belén said with absolute certainty. "Mom's transferring to the precinct so she'll be around. Who knows, maybe this is our chance at actually having a relationship."

"I'm really happy for you, Bells," Barry said, taking his hands off her shoulders. "I'm glad Veronica finally came to her senses."

"Well..." Belén cleared her throat. Barry noticed her shifting on her chair and wondered what else she had to say. "She didn't come up with it entirely on her own. Maritza...actually inspired her." Barry's eyebrows raised together in shock. "I know," Belén chuckled lightly. "I was just as surprised as you were. Mom told me she visited Maritza and that Maritza basically called her out on everything."

"I mean...that was..." Barry couldn't even find the proper words to commend Maritza for her actions. It certainly brought a lot of happiness for Belén and that made him see Maritza in a new light.

"I'm thankful," Belén bit her lip nervously. "I'm basically getting a second chance with my Mom thanks to Maritza."

"I'm happy for you, a lot," Barry smiled.

Belén stared at him for a minute with a soft smile. "Yeah, things are finally getting better for me."

She got up from her chair and surprised Barry by sitting on his lap. She looped an arm around his neck and pressed her lips to his for a kiss. It was a much awaited kiss that was filled with feelings - some of those feelings were from the very day they'd broken up. Barry wrapped an arm of his around Belén's waist, keeping her steady as well keeping her close to his body. His free hand came to rest on her cheek and repeatedly stroked circles over her skin with his thumb.

They remained like that for a couple minutes until they felt their feelings for each other had been rekindled.

They gazed at each other with the same dazed smiles until someone spoke up.

"I need more dates like this," Belén spoke for the two of them.

Barry thought the same thing and went ahead and kissed her again.

Dinner was pushed back for a couple minutes.

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #the flash #barry allen #the flash fics #barry allen fics #barry allen imagines #the flash imagines #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #oc: datura #fic: rise up

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iknowthekoolaidflavor · 5 years

Text

Guilt

Pairing: Rafa x Reader

Prompt: When a building up the street catches fires, two paths cross under difficult circumstances. A little angst, then fluff. Firefighter!au

Word Count: About 2k

A/N: Also, my first Rafa fic!

As soon as you saw the news that night, you knew it would be a long one. A building several blocks away had caught on fire. The reason was unknown, but for most of the night, residents of the building and firefighters were in and out of the hospital. After you finished with one patient, there was always another waiting.

When the last group came in, your team was split into smaller groups to lessen the load. It was four in the morning, you were exhausted, but you needed to check in on one more patient before you could get a nap.

The firefighter one you operated on earlier was still in bed, snoring softly. A piece of glass pierced his suit, puncturing his side, yet somehow it missed any major organs. You had to operate on his leg as well which was propped up on a pillow.

His two friends jumped up as soon as you entered.

“I’m Dr. (Y/L/N)”, you said shaking their hands

“I’m Rafa. This is Oak”

“Nice to meet you”

You started checking Daveed’s vitals, noticing how their eyes never left the two of you.

“The injuries he sustained from the fall aren’t as bad as they could be. His vitals are improving better than I expected”

Oak seemed relieved, Rafa, on the other hand, did not.

“How long will he have to stay here?”, Oak asked trying to defuse Rafa’s anxiety

“He has to stay overnight so we can keep an eye on him and at least two more as a precaution, but you guys can visit him as much as you want”

You smiled at Rafa and Oak, who seemed to relax at your statement.

“I can imagine it must be difficult seeing him like this, but I think he’ll pull through. I have very high hopes for Daveed”

“Is it alright for me to stay here?”, Rafa asked hesitantly

The entire time you were in the room, he never left Daveed’s side. To you, they seemed to be best friends or something more.

“Yes, let me know if you need anything”

“Is there anything else we need to know?”, Oak asked

“He’ll need to come back for physical therapy if he wants to return to work. I’ve already written a prescription for him”, you smiled softly as you hand the paper over to Oak

He slips it in his pocket, letting out a quiet thank you. Before you left, you noticed Rafa was still by Daveed’s side, face in his hands. He was mumbling to himself in an attempt to keep himself together. Oak sat by his side, just as he started to break down. You quietly left the room.

The entire night you were faced with many patients that would make full recoveries and a few that would not. The latter always took a heavy toll on you. You knew Daveed had a high probability of making it through the night, but you had seen enough tears for one night. Emotionally, you were drained.

“Dr. (Y/L/N)”, someone yelled from behind you

As soon as you turned around, you were wrapped in a warm hug. You smelled the smoke from their clothing before you realized who it was. Rafa was shaking against you. He lost any ability to keep himself together. Several tears slipped down his cheek and on to your lab coat.

“Thank you”, he sobbed, “For everything”

You squeezed him as tight as you could. He buried his face against your shoulder, hiding his face from everyone that passed by.

“He’ll pull through, Rafa. You shouldn’t have anything to worry about”

“But I do”, he mumbled

He moved away from you wearing so many emotions at once. He was lost, upset, and scared. Rafa could no longer look you in the eyes.

“It’s my fault he’s...I should’ve…”

You grabbed his hand and he aimlessly followed. When you were in your office, you shut the door and sat him on the couch. You sat next to him, trying to console him.

“What happened?”

He never pulled his hand away because he needed some type of comfort, anything to get him through this.

“I should get back to--”

“Daveed will be fine. Oak is still there remember? And our team is still on the same floor”, you smiled reassuringly, “Tell me what happened”

“We thought everyone was out of the building, but a man couldn’t find his son. He was about to go in a burning building by himself. I know I did a full sweep of his apartment before I left and I didn’t see anyone else”

Rafa leaned back against the couch and threw his arm over his eyes.

“Daveed runs back inside to look again. He knew the integrity of the building was shotty, but he went in anyway. He found the kid hiding in someone else's apartment. Somehow, the kid made it out, but there was a blast and Daveed was still inside. We got to him before it started to collapse”

He sighed as more tears streamed down his cheeks. His shoulders began to shake as he tightened his grip on your hand.

“Rafa--”

“Don’t say it”

“Why? Because it’s true? It wasn’t your fault. None of this is. No one could have known he would be in someone else’s apartment”

“I know, but even if Daveed didn’t go in, someone’s child would have died and that would still be on me”, he groaned

“When we’re presented with tough decisions or struggling to deal with the aftermath of our decisions, my boss always tells us to weigh out the pros and cons. I would say a pretty big pro is someone’s child is still alive tonight”

“True, but a pretty big con is that Daveed is in the hospital”

“Daveed can return to work good as new in a few months”

“I feel guilty. Is that a con?”, Rafa sighed

“That’s expected. I would argue that it shouldn’t, but then again, I’m not a firefighter. It’s easy to feel guilt in most situations, especially when you can’t control the outcome, but how do you manage it? Will you wallow in it or do something to prevent it from happening again?”

You watched Rafa relax into the couch. He loosened his grip a little. The stress he felt dwindled little by little. He had to believe that Daveed would be alright. Everyone made it out the building, some were injured, but no one died. That was supposed to be a win, yet he still felt like there was a slight weight on his chest.

“You sure you’re not a therapist or something?”

“I’m sure”, you laughed, “I majored in psychology for undergrad”

Rafa smiled at hearing your laugh. You could tell he needed to get his mind off of everything.

“You want to get something to eat from the cafeteria? We can eat outside”

Rafa followed you outside. The conversation flowed effortlessly. He noticed your soft smile when you mentioned your family or how excited you were when he mentioned that he loves the same shows you do.

Your shift ended an hour ago and Rafa was beginning to yawn. You decided to walk him back to Daveed’s room before you left. He felt at ease for once. Rafa knew he wanted to see you again but not just because you talked him down when he felt like he was losing his mind, you shared the same interests, and he wanted to see your smile again. He felt corny just thinking about it, yet he knew it was the truth.

“Thank you for everything”, he chirped as you stepped in the room

Oak had fallen asleep in one of the chairs an hour ago. He kept an eye on Daveed while Rafa was away.

“It’s my job”

“I mean for helping me. I wasn’t sure I would make it through the night and somehow you’ve made it bearable”

“You can stop by when you want”, you grinned

Rafa grinned back, “Daveed still has to go to physical therapy, right? What kind of friend would I be if I made him go through this on his own?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then”

“I hope so”

You left the room, ready to crawl in your bed. There was a big chance you would have a certain man on your mind before you drifted off to sleep.

After you left, Oak cracked open one eye, “Did you at least get her number?”

Rafa jumped at his voice, “Were you eavesdropping?”

“You saw me when you walked in. Of course I was listening”

“I’ll ask for it tomorrow”

“If you’re going to see her so soon, at least go back to the station and shower. You wreak”

“I don’t want to leave until he wakes”, he said as watched Daveed sleep

“I’ll bring your stuff after I get some sleep”

Rafa was in a deep sleep when he felt something hit his face. This time it hit his nose. Then his cheek.

“What the--”, he cursed

When he opened his eyes, Daveed smirked at him as he balled up another piece of paper.

“Took you long enough”, he smiled, “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I was until you started throwin’ shit”

“I mean at home”

“Decided to stay here. No big deal”

“Awww”, Daveed grinned, “You care about me”

“Shut. Up. Don’t we need to call the nurse or something?”

“They already came in. I told them not to wake you”

“Has the doctor come by already?”, he tried to ask without suspicion

Daveed quirked a brow before asking, “You mean the one you’ve been drooling over since you got here? No, she hasn’t stopped by, but I have some things I need to say to her. First of all, she can do better”

They both burst into a fit of laughs.

“You better not”

“I have physical therapy. I have all the time in the world to tell her about you leaving your socks all around your apartment or the fact that you always drink the last bit of milk, then leave the carton in the fridge”

“It’s there for a reminder”

“That’s actually pretty gross”, Rafa heard from behind him

Rafa jumped and spun around. Daveed did little to contain his amusement. You were standing right behind Rafa, looking and feeling more refreshed than you did before.

“Dr. (Y/L/N)”, he beamed, “You look...well”

Daveed let out an exasperated sigh, feeling second hand embarrassment for his best friend.

“Thank you. So do you”

There was a moment of silence before you directed all your attention to Daveed.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked as you checked his vitals, “You’re blood pressure and heart rate are still the same, which is good”

“My side is starting to hurt”

You saw that his IV had run out, which was probably the reason why he was in pain.

“I’ll have the nurse come in and give you a refill. Can you move your toes?”

You moved his blankets from his feet and watched as he concentrated. All of his toes were moving except for his pinky toes.

“This is promising. Only your pinky toes didn’t move. Looking good Daveed”

He smiled brightly as you called in a nurse to give him his medication.

Within a few minutes he began to yawn. He was beginning to sink into the bed, trying to blink his eyes to stay awake.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up”, Rafa reassured him

“Good”, he yawned, “Now ask her out...before it’s too late”

Rafa’s eyes widened as his friend dozed off.

“He likes to...Daveed just…”

“I might have a break coming up soon. We can get lunch or something”

“I’d like that”, Rafa agreed

“You wait here and I’ll be back later to check on my favorite patient”

“You’re favorite patient”, he chuckled, “Oh hell no. Let me tell you about your favorite patient. First of all, he’s an ass”

You burst out laughing as Rafa ticked off all the things that annoyed him about his best friend. You had a feeling you would find out more about Daveed than you should if you let him continue.

You quickly pressed a kiss into his cheek, knowing he would grow silent.

“I’ll be back later to check on my favorite firefighter”

Rafa allowed the dreamy grin to spread across his face as he sat down. All he could do was wave as you left him in the room.

#rafael casal x reader #firefighter!au #Rafael Casal #rafael x reader #rafa x reader

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chipmunkfanno1love · 5 years

Text

Theories and things I'd Like to see in Season 3 of the "Tangled" TV series

I have few theories of what I think will happen in Season 3, and I'll also share what I hope will happen too. I've categorised it depending on the character I am referring too.

Eugene Fitzherbert:

I'd love to see flashbacks of when Eugene was a orphan boy. I'd really like to see him on his adventures and mischief with Lance Strongbow (obviously it will be cute to see "Little Lance" return). Maybe we might even see his courtship days with Stalyan and perhaps what caused him to jilt her in the first place, though considering his previous selfishness and her previous vindictiveness, it's not hard to guess what caused him to jilt her.

I would also love to see him and his long-lost father, King Edmund making up for old times and eventually reconciling. Maybe Edmund can even share more information about Eugene's mother with him.

Cassandra:

I would actually like to see some flashbacks to Cass's childhood (I'd like to see more of her genuine child self). I'd like to see how see her interactions with her dad as a child and see how they have impacted her as an adult. Considering how aggressive and distrustful she is as an adult, I have no doubt it has a lot to do with how she was raised. That's not to say that the Captain of the Guard was a bad father, in fact without his guidance and training, I'm sure Cassandra wouldn't have become the strong and resourceful young woman she is now. In saying that though, while the Captain probably did teach Cassandra how to take care of herself, maybe he was neglectful to her regarding emotional and physical affection. He probably didn't have time for her due to his job, plus with his stern, no-nonsense personality, he probably found it hard to be affectionate with his adoptive daughter, despite obviously caring about her.

I'm sure the emotional neglect from her father weighed a lot on Cassandra's heart. Even more so was the sting of her real parents abandoning her. She probably wondered if she had ever been "good enough" for her biological parents, or if she was even good enough for her adoptive parent. Therefore Cassandra put up emotional walls to stop herself getting hurt, and also trained harder and harder in order to prove to her father and to others in the kingdom that she was good enough. She was so focused on being "good enough" that she didn't let herself trust others or just let people love her.

Rapunzel was probably the first person that Cassandra ever truly considered a friend, and perhaps the only person she ever truly let herself love as family besides her dad. Unfortunately, that all changed after going into Zhan Tiri's tree, and Cassandra was hurt both emotionally and literally by Rapunzel (though she never intended it to be that way). To me, the armour was a metaphor that Cassandra was not only protecting herself physically from Rapunzel's hair, but also she was shutting herself off emotionally from Rapunzel too. Her response to Rapunzel's comment about her being hurt that she "Won't let it happen again." strongly made feel that was the case.

I don't know what she saw behind that door, but obviously it's her reason for betraying Rapunzel and her friends. I don't if she's be brain-washed or simply had her insecurities manipulated by Zhan Tiri and/or his followers, but obviously she believes she has a "destiny" to fulfil. I don't believe it's good that's for sure. Some people have the theory she might be Mother Gothel's daughter. I'm honestly open to the theory, but I'm not going to jump 100% on board either. I'm just open-minded to it. I do believe Gothel was the one who betrayed Lord Demanitus and joined Zhan Tiri though.

I am hoping that somehow Cassandra will somehow be redeemed. So far it doesn't look good for her, but I hope that her true loyalties and morals will step in eventually. Hopefully she'll realise her friendship with Rapunzel is the most important thing, and that will soften her literally hardened heart. Somehow I don't know if she'll make it out alive though.

Varian:

Obviously this is a character a lot of fans of the show (including myself) are very anxious to see. I have a lot of mixed feelings about what to expect from this character, especially after to seeing how downhill he went in Season 1 with no real evidence of repentance and redemption. Still, after watching Season 2, I have come to few conclusions about what could happen with Varian in Season 3, and for those of us who want to see this adorkable boy turned vengeful villain be redeemed, I have to admit it's not out of the question.

Personally I really like to see what happened to Varian during Season 2. I'd like to find out if King Fredric kept his word about getting help for Varian. Also I'm wondering if it helped in anyway. I imagine Arianna making the most effort to reach out to Varian, because despite his kidnapping of her and threatening her life, deep down she knows that he did it all out of pain and grief (as she knows Fredric went through a similar thing) and also believes that Varian isn't a heartless criminal but instead is just a scared, angry boy who has lost his way and let his pain get to him. I imagine she would get the cold shoulder and harsh word from him, but perhaps her slowly her kindness towards Varian will have a good affect on him, even if he doesn't return the kindness openly.

I imagine King Fredric still being wary of Varian, especially knowing how dangerous the boy can be, but perhaps knowing the pain Varian has gone through will soften Fredric a bit and cause him to empathise with the boy, knowing he made unwise and unjust decisions himself due to his own pain. I imagine Varian would be cold towards Fredric and deny that the two have anything in common (due to his rage against the king) but maybe it would touch his heart slightly and make him think about his actions later on.

Perhaps as part of his therapy and as kind of a community service to make up for his crimes, King Fredric gives him work under Xavier's care, feeling that the wise blacksmith and potion-maker could be the one person who could win over the vengeful young alchemist. I imagine Xavier being reluctant at first due to knowing what Varian did with his personality reversing potion and fearing the dangerous consequences of letting the boy get so close to the potions when they know what he is capable of. Even Fredric has doubts about whether this is a good idea, but feels he has no choice because Varian has shunned any other form of help, and he promised Rapunzel that he would help Varian get better, despite having doubts he'll ever get better.

Eventually though, Xavier becomes something of a mentor to Varian, and even Xavier himself becomes fond of the boy. He's impressed with Varian's talents and smarts, but feels that the boy is too short-sighted, reckless and unwilling to admit his mistakes, and feels that Varian will never become the person he knows he can become unless he learns to take responsibility for his actions and stop blaming others for the consequences. Perhaps this may create some tension between the two characters, but it will hopefully be a small step into bringing Varian closer to redemption. I also think Xavier will share the legends of Lord Demantis and Zhan Tiri with Varian, despite Varian scoffing at them being merely legends.

I believe that Varian's goal to free his father and hopefully make him proud of him will either be the thing that redeems him or will lead to his ultimate downfall. I do believe that something will happen though to make Varian torn between taking the easy path of revenge and quick solutions to his problems, or between doing the right thing and helping Rapunzel defeat Zhan Tiri and fulfilling her destiny and perhaps his own.

I do believe that Cassandra will be part of tempting Varian for the path of revenge and working with Zhan Tiri to destroy Corona. Maybe Cassandra and maybe Zhan Tiri himself will make him believe that the evil warlock can be the answer to freeing Quirin. I could see Varian being tempted by the offer and perhaps even siding with Zhan Tiri and Cassandra temporarily in order to get revenge on Rapunzel and Corona, and freeing his father from the amber. I assume that his feelings for Cassandra will play a part in siding with her as well. Personally I reckon Zhan Tiri will and probably already is manipulating them both due their similar insecurities, feelings of anger, and unappreciated talents.

I could see Varian having interactions Lord Demanitus, who I believe will also play the role as mentor for him. I imagine that they can relate to each other due their similar scientific minds and dark pasts. I reckon Varian's interactions with Demanitus and maybe even meeting the Brotherhood members, King Edmund and Adira, will help him learn of his father, Quirin's past history with them, and also learn more of the scroll and the Sundrop and Moonstone (perhaps a little from Xavier and more from Demanitus). Maybe he could even learn about the past from Quirin himself if he ever gets free of the amber. Learning the truth about his father's past and also his desire to make his father proud could be the driving force that gets him to side with Rapunzel and her allies, even if he possibly betrays Cassandra and ultimately Zhan Tiri.

I imagine his interactions with Rapunzel and her group will not be the warmest, because I imagine Varian will take awhile to re-gain their trust, and even let go of his grudge against Rapunzel. Still, with time and encouragement from Rapunzel, I reckon he'll win the trust of her, Eugene and the rest of the group, and will play his part to stop Zhan Tiri's evil scheme. I hope he'll also eventually free his father and make him proud.

I also wonder if he and Rapunzel's mutual care and admiration for Cassandra will be the thing that stops her from following this dark destiny she feels compelled is her's. With his own story of redemption and pain, and Rapunzel's loving care, I reckon they could possibly help Cassandra to turn from this dark path.

If they do a redemption story for Varian, I reckon doing it in a similar fashion to Zuko's from Avatar: The Last Airbender series would be good. I can already see similarities between the characters. I can also see a similar rage and drive in Cassandra to Zuko's. So this might also be a redemption example for her too.

Zuko's Redemption: the best story arc in ATLA by Final Rantasy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d0HLKBPOTjk

Interactions I'd like to see:

I personally would like to see Varian interacting with both Eugene and Lance in Season 3. I imagine Eugene would not trust Varian and would be suspicious and angry at him for trying to harm Rapunzel in the past. Over time though and with proof of Varian's trustworthiness, eventually Eugene becomes something of a big brother to Varian, and maybe King Edmund compares the two of them to himself and Quirin (unless the relationship between them was nothing more than a king and servant relationship. Though I believe they were friends too). I reckon Lance gets jealous of their new friendship, but I reckon over time both he and Varian start to bond as well. I doubt this will happen as neither Varian or Lance are present in Tangled: Ever After (unless they do the wedding in the finale and alter it slightly to make in sync with the show), but maybe as Eugene gets used to being a prince (which I am sure he will) he'll make Lance part of his royal guard, and possibly Varian too if earns his trust enough.

I'd wonder what Varian's interactions with Adira and King Edmund will be like? I reckon Varian and King Edmund might have combination of respect (because of their relationships with Quirin) and distrust (mostly from Edmund due knowing the harm that Varian has been to his son's girlfriend in the past). I wouldn't be surprised if threatened to harm Varian if he betrayed his son's trust again.

Maybe if Quirin ever gets free, I'd like some interactions between King Edmund and maybe even King Fredric could possibly be involved too. I too see them sharing their experiences as father's and showing their desires to make up for their mistakes. I'm sure all three have got a lot of making up to with their children (though so far Fredric is doing well). Maybe even the Captain of the Guard could be involved too.

I'd like to see Calliope from Keeper of the Spire again in the show. I wonder if she and Varian will get along, and maybe she'll possibly take him on as assistant, even temprorarily or at the end of the series.

I'm pretty confident Hubert/Andrew from Under Raps might make an appearance again as the Separatists of Saporia emblem made an appearance in Rapunzel Day One. I reckon he and Varian wouldn't get along with him due Hubert's past dating life with Cassandra (even if it was for his own vengeful motives). Maybe Hubert mocks Varian for his crush on Cassandra during Varian's time in jail, saying "Dating the Captain of the Guard's daughter leads to no good. Trust me, I know." or perhaps the now corrupt Cassandra takes him up to work with her as she does with Varian. Perhaps the two eagerly try their best to please her (despite her using both of them) and the two develop a rivalry with each other. Hubert possibly mocks Varian about not having a chance with Cassandra due him being currently being too young and because she hasn't totally forgiven him for trying to kill her (and also for harming her adoptive father if she still cares for him).

I personally would like see Vex and Varian meeting and interacting. I kind of see Vex as a younger version of Cassandra, with a bit of Mattie Ross from True Grit and maybe Wednesday Addams from The Addams Family films thrown in. I'd personally would like to see how the two of them interact with someone close to their own age (though Vex might be slightly older than Varian, or perhaps just taller). They might not get along at first due to Vex's stern and cynical attitude, and because she knows of Varian's betrayal of Rapunzel and her friends (I think she likes Rapunzel despite finding her too optimistic, though she'll probably never admit to it). If Varian proves himself though, he may eventually win Vex's trust (kind of like he did with Cassandra in Great Expotations). I could probably see them having a love-hate relationship of some sort, either a brotherly-sisterly one like Eugene and Cassandra once had, or perhaps maybe something more than that, such as puppy love and eventually true love (even if it's only hinted at and happens off-screen when they are older). I know not many people are keen on the latter idea, but I don't see it as impossible. As cute as Cassandra and Varian's interactions were in Great Expotations, I'm not sure if romance is possible at this stage, not until Cassandra forgives him and Varian becomes a young adult (which I doubt will happen during the shows run).

I definitely think Hector will make another appearance in the show. He may even side with Cassandra perhaps, unless his fanatical commitment to King Edmund stops him (though he has very questionable motives already). I have questions about Hector and his character. Did something happen for him to become this way? Maybe if Varian meets him, the young boy possibly sees a bit of himself in the psychotic warrior due their similar sceptical and vengeful personalities. Maybe it's a warning to Varian about what he is becoming, and it's a push towards choosing the right path.

I hope you liked my theories and ideas. Feel free to comment on what you think, or even share your own opinions.

#spoilers for season 2 #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled: the series #season 3 #season 3 theories #theories for fictional shows #fiction #fiction theories #fiction ideas

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darquedeath4444 · 6 years

Text

Ripples

NARUTO

Pairing: Sasuke x Sakura

Summary:

Hozuki Sakura holds an ability that is rare even within her clan. Captured by Orochimaru alongside her brother, Suigetsu, they are freed when Uchiha Sasuke comes along looking to recruit a team to go after his brother, Uchiha Itachi. Alongside Karin and Jugo, they form Team Hebi under the Uchiha. However, this may soon become a relationship with more to it than just give and take.

Prologue

Uchiha Sasuke hacked through the glass container almost as easily as if he were looking through a genjutsu with his Sharingan. Water flooded out of the human test tube and he watched as the puddle began to ripple, shifting into a humanoid shape.

Before his eyes, the water began to ripple, then slowly brought itself together to form a humanoid shape. "Finally...it feels like it's been forever."

"You're the first, Suigetsu," Sasuke said, unfazed. "Come with me."

The other teen raised an eyebrow. "First? Then there are others?" He slowly stretched his limbs.

"Two," Sasuke replied. "Jugo from the Northern hideout, then Karin from the Southern hideout."

"Really?"

"What?"

"Nothing, to be honest. I just don't like them."

Sasuke looked down dismissively at Hozuki Suigetsu. "You don't have to get along. Just work together."

"Of course. You did save me. If you tell me to work with them, I don't mind." Suigetsu smirked. "You're crazy for choosing them,” he added.

"Shut up," the Uchiha snapped. "Hurry up. We're going."

"Such superiority," Suigetsu chuckled.

Sasuke blinked, and the Hozuki was behind him, a finger pressed to his head.

"Let's just make our relationship clear," the Hozuki said. "Just because you defeated Orochimaru doesn't make you superior to me. We were all after him. Someone would have gotten him sooner or later. You were a favorite, so you weren't locked up and you had a better chance than us."

Sasuke held still. "So?"

"In this situation, I've got the upper hand." Suigetsu pointedly pressed his finger harder into Sasuke's head. Then he huffed, withdrawing his hand. "Just kidding."

Sasuke shot him an annoyed look but allowed him to explain himself.

Suigestu raised his hands in mock defeat. "Even in this situation, not a single irregular heartbeat. I've heard rumors about you, Uchiha Sasuke. You're team defeated Momochi Zabuza, right?"

Sasuke didn't reply but Suigetsu took this as a yes anyway. "I'll go with you," the former Kiri-nin said. "But I have a few things I want to ask of you."

Suigetsu yanked out the Kubikirobocho, smiling. "Heavy." He swung it. "So this is the Bloody Mist Demon Momochi Zabuza's Kubikiribocho."

"Can you use that with your strength?" Sasuke asked.

"The Swords of the 'Seven Swordsmen of the Mist' was passed down from generation to generation. I've always admired them and they were the reason I trained. As long I have this sword, I might not lose even to you." He stabbed it into the ground. "Besides, if we're going to include Jugo, it might be helpful to have this thing around."

Sasuke scoffed dismissively and turned back towards the path. Behind him, Suigetsu rolled his shoulders. "Well then. Let's get going, Sasuke."

Suigetsu eyed the redhead female standing there like she owned the place.

He reeeeally didn't like her...And her voice.

Sasuke did not notice or, more like, did not care, about what Suigetsu thought. "Suigetsu, go free everyone being detained."

He huffed. "Huh. Still talking like you're above." He slowly got to his feet.

Karin’s eyes flashed at this. "Don't you dare!" She snapped.

Suigetsu eyed the girl, then his male companion, and decided that the Uchiha was much more bothersome to deal with. He could feel Sasuke watching to make sure his order was being followed before he turned back to Karin. "There is no longer a need for a guard. What are you going to do?"

Suigetsu stood up and stalked out of the room.

When he came back to a closed door, Suigetsu sighed. Uchiha Sasuke may have been a genius, but he was emotionally dense. After waiting a few more seconds, he slashed right through the door.

Karin shot him a murderous glare as he entered, and he easily ignored it. "Let's go, Sasuke. Karin doesn't seem like she's going."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "She said she'll come with us."

"Wh-who said I'll go?" Karin stuttered. "I'm just...just...heading in the same direction!"

"Oh, that's convenient." Suigetsu smirked. "Let's go partway together, then."

"Just partway," Karin repeated.

Suigetsu rolled his eyes and turned back to Sasuke. "Now it's Jugo, right?"

"Jugo? You're going to include him?" Karin asked.

"You're only coming with us halfway, right? Then it shouldn't concern you."

"N-no, it doesn't concern me."

Suigetsu snickered.

Karin let out a threatening growl. "Are you picking a fight?"

The three of them made their way out of the now empty hideout. "Jugo is being kept in the Northern hideout," Suigetsu muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, but his companions heard him anyways.

Karin turned to him, annoyed. "You have a problem with that?"

Suigetsu scoffed at the thought. "Nah."

Sasuke shot him a look and Suigetsu responded with a smirk. "It's convenient, that's all," he said.

"There was a prison break."

Suigetsu looked up at the familiar voice. "You okay being out here?"

"All the guards were killed. Without anyone to constantly power the seals, all that's holding me in is the seal itself." There was a pause. "Everyone's going wild. It's dangerous to approach now."

Suigetsu eyed Sasuke and Karin, who were once again waiting for him to recover. He took another gulp of water. "We're heading over to collect Jugo," he muttered under his breath so that neither would hear him. "Any info on him?"

"Jugo? He's also going wild."

"I guess that means he's dangerous to approach?"

"Yeah."

Suigetsu groaned. "Well, I guess it's worth it. You're there too, right? At the Northern hideout."

"You're coming?"

"Course."

"Suigetsu?" The Hozuki blinked up at Sasuke, who was looking down at him. He must have been very distracted, for he didn't even notice the Uchiha approach him.

"Eh, my bad." Suigetsu got to his feet, noting with relief that Sasuke didn't seem to notice anything. "Sorry, let's go."

He carefully glanced over his shoulder to the small body of water he had been resting by, just in time to see a figure made purely of water wave a goodbye before it soundlessly collapsed, causing ripples.

Sasuke had known the Northern hideout was where he would meet the most resistance, simply because the experiments kept there had mostly lost their minds. Jugo was easy to spot, for all they had to do was follow the trail f broken furniture and occasional bodies left behind. The orange haired teen flew at them the moment they approached.

Suigetsu eagerly stepped forward and the blade of the Kubikiribocho blocked Jugo's attack. The orange head narrowed his eyes.

"You didn't use that kind of power last time," the Hozuki muttered. "So hard too."

Sasuke watched the two fight it out before he finally decided that he had had enough. "Suigetsu, stop. We aren't here to fight. I'll talk to him."

Suigetsu felt a flash of irritation as the Uchiha attempted to cut in. "He isn't someone who'll listen to you. You'll have to take him by force,” he told him.

Jugo's eyes flashed with recognition. "You're Suigetsu! I remember now!" His arm began to grow bigger and Suigetsu felt the killing intent flare. The two of them exchanged several more blows before something screamed within Suigetsu's head, a split second before he found himself restrained by a snake.

Sasuke had straightened and while his posture was relaxed, something rang warning bells in his head. "You two...Do you want me to kill you?"

A surge of killing intent, more intense than anything he had ever felt in a long time, hit him hard. Suigetsu stiffened even further, eyes wide. Why couldn't he stop his trembling?

Then, before he knew what was happening, Jugo screamed. He tore through the snakes and he ran off into a room, slamming the door behind him. Suigetsu stepped away from the snakes as they loosened. Shaking off his discomfort, he gestured curiously towards where he had vanished.

"Hurry up and lock the door!" Jugo's voice came from within.

"I came to get you out of here, Jugo," Sasuke said. "Come with me."

"He's scared," Suigetsu guessed,

"No, that's not it," Karin said.

"I don't want to kill any more people. I don't want to go outside. Just leave me alone!"

"What?" Suigetsu frowned. "Split personality..."

"Jugo is driven by an intent to kill, and he can't stop it," Karin told them. "He can't stop himself, but he really doesn't want to kill."

They heard Jugo release a shuddering breath. "If Kimimaro isn't here, I'm not going out."

Suigetsu recognized the name."Kimimaro...the Kaguya." Even he had heard of him.

"Kimimaro was strong," Karin explained. "He was probably the only person who could keep him controlled."

Suigetsu wracked his mind. "But isn't that guy..." dead?

"Jugo," Sasuke spoke up. "Kimimaro is no longer alive. He died for me."

There was a moment of silence. "He...died for you? Then...are you..." There was a shift from within. "Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Ah."

The door slowly opened. Jugo stood at the doorway, looking warily at the Uchiha.

The orange head did not require much more convincing for him to join them and they gathered outside the hideout a while later. Sasuke stood before the other three, a faraway look in his eyes. "My motive is to kill Uchiha Itachi of the Akatsuki. In order to do that, I want to borrow your strength."

"Thought it was something along those lines," Suigetsu muttered, but he did not say anymore. He had a brother, Mangetsu, but the older was already dead. All in all, him and his siblings had gotten along so he could not say he understood the Uchiha’s feelings.

Sasuke turned to the redhead. "However, Karin. You said you already had other plans. What are you going to do?"

Karin blushed. "Uh...yeah! I was thinking and I've decided that it's not something I have to rush."

"Be honest, Karin." Suigetsu bared his teeth. "Don't you just want to be by Sasuke's side?"

"W-why would you say such things?" Karin demanded.

"Bullseye! See? You're stuttering." He smirked. "Besides, I know something. In the past, you and Sasuke-" Before he could finish, Karin punched him in the face.

"Suigetsu, stop agitating her. I believe I've already told you that you have to work together?" Sasuke's face was blank.

"Kay~ My bad, Karin." Suigetsu smirked, knowing Karin could tell he was not sorry in the least. "Anyway, I guess I'll stick around," he said. "Itachi's partner is a former member of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. It's a part of my goal to take his sword Samehada."

"Someone's compensating by collection swords."

Suigetsu gritted his teeth. He turned away, fixing Sasuke with a serious look. "Besides, I know I've told you, but I need your help in getting someone out."

Sasuke nodded briskly. "I haven't forgotten," he said, then turned to the last person. "Jugo, now that you're out, what are you going to do?" Suigetsu turned to the orange haired teen.

"Kimimaro said that you will be the revival of his existence. He sacrificed himself to protect you." He looked at Sasuke. "I want to see how strong of a shinobi you really are."

Sasuke nodded. "Then it's decided," he said. "Now, Suigetsu. You still have business here, don't you."

"Yeah. Like I've said, I'm probably going to need your help with this." Suigetsu then turned and began wandering back into the corridors of the Northern Base. Sasuke followed, Karin and Jugo trailing behind.

"We're recruiting another one from here?" Karin asked.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "I've only agreed to set this person free. Whether they will join us depends on their abilities."

Sasuke looked curiously around the corridor as Suigetsu led them through. The air was damp and heavy and Karin kept complaining about it. Jugo was quietly following.

Suigetsu broke away from the main corridor, leading the way through a much narrower, less well-lit corridor. The air became even heavier.

"How do you know of this place, Suigetsu?" Sasuke asked. He was annoyed to have found out that not even he knew of this structure.

"Uh...a little bird told me." Suigetsu sighed. "Okay, this definitely looks like it."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. "A-"

"It's not my fault! I've never been here." Suigetsu sounded like he was talking to someone else entirely.

Jugo suddenly tensed.

"What?" Sasuke turned to him.

"There's someone here."

"What? No. The only ones here are us and...the chakra signature coming from straight ahead," Karin said.

"There is someone here," Jugo insisted. "I can sense it." He paused. "I've sensed this feeling before."

Suigetsu blinked. "Wait, you can feel it?"

Jugo nodded warily and Sasuke fixed his gaze on the Hozuki.

"Eh, you'll see." Suigetsu turned around dismissively. They kept walking until the white-haired teen came to a stop and Sasuke realized that they were now standing in front of a huge metal door. Seals were placed all over it and he noticed them to be lightning based that electrocuted anyone that stepped through the door if the seals weren't deactivated properly.

Suigetsu pointed at the seals. "I'm sure someone like you can easily break through something like this."

Wordlessly, Sasuke destroyed them with his lightning chakra. The Hozuki hummed, then shoved the door open.

The air became even damper.

A stream ran from the left wall to the right wall, the water vanishing through a hole in said walls. The openings were blocked by metal bars, which also held the electric barrier seal.

There were bodies of water everywhere, looking like the leftover puddles of a rainstorm.

At the far end of the room, Sasuke could make out a tank similar to the one Suigetsu had been in. This tank was also covered in electricity seals. The former Kiri-nin mockingly stepped aside and he easily cut through the seals, along with the glass. Water gushed out, puddling at their feet.

Similar to Suigetsu's situation, a figure began to form in the puddle. In a few seconds, a pink haired girl around Sasuke's age sat in the water. The girl slowly got to her feet and the movement caused the girl's hair to shift. Sasuke caught sight of striking green eyes. The girl looked at Sasuke curiously.

"Uchiha Sasuke," she murmured. She didn't even wait for a confirmation and instead, she turned to Suigetsu. "You're late."

Suigetsu crossed his arms. "Take pity on me. I was stuck with her-" he jammed a finger in Karin's direction. "-And I had to travel through the killing heat." He tossed her something from his pouch and the girl threw the black cloak over herself. She slowly got to her feet, stretching each limb. Suigetsu moved to her side, gripping her arm. "Okay. Guys, this here is Sakura." The girl, Sakura, smiled. "Kura, you probably already know, but-"

"Jugo and Karin," the girl chirped. The two mentioned narrowed their eyes in turn. Confusion swam in their gazes, and Sasuke guessed they had never met her before too.

Suigetsu nodded. "I'm going to be traveling with these guys." He shot Sasuke a look, shrugged, then turned back to Sakura. "Sasuke here is hunting down his brother."

Sakura's eyes brightened at the word 'hunt'. "I'm good at hunting."

Suigetsu smirked and nodded. "So, Sasuke, can she tag along?"

Sasuke's face gave nothing away. "I cannot simply allow someone to join us because they are 'good at hunting',” he said.

"But she really is," Suigetsu insisted. "All she needs is a body of water. Orochimaru used her as a spy when he was desperate enough."

"Yet, she was locked up. If she was sent out as a spy, she could have simply escaped."

Suigetsu's smirk widened. "She's good because she can spy on anyone from anywhere."

Sasuke leaned forward. "Explain." He knew there were things Orochimaru kept from him. Perhaps this was one of them.

"Though it works once at a time, Sakura can use any body of water as a 'medium'. As long as what she is looking for is also close to a body of water, she can spy on them." He nodded at Sakura, who placed both feet firmly in the puddle on the ground. She made a hand sigh and closed her eyes.

A second later, Sasuke felt something brush the back of his neck. He turned around to come face to face with a Sakura made purely of water. The water Sakura waved her fingers at him. "Boo!"

He noticed Karin and Jugo watching him curiously, and it took him a second to realize that they couldn't see the water version of her.

Sasuke turned back to Sakura. "Hn. How does it work?"

"I'm simply matching the vibrations in the water to something only you can see," Sakura explained. The water version of her vanished. "It's the same for my voice. What you are seeing and hearing is made up purely of the small vibrations and the movement of the water."

Sasuke thought through this. Karin's sensory abilities would be useful as a whole, but it wouldn't hurt to have someone who could keep an eye on Itachi from a distance.

He crossed his and everyone present looked at him curiously. "From now, we will call ourselves 'Hebi'." Sakura's eyes brightened when she realized what this meant.

Sasuke turned around briskly. "We'll continue this elsewhere. The air here is...suffocating." He turned, expecting them to follow, and they did. Sakura took a few shaky steps and stumbled. Suigetsu grabbed her arm again, helping her regain her balance.

"Stupid Kabuto," she muttered. "Stupid four eyes electrocuted me a few days ago when he came to ask me if there were any changes in our usual targets and I told him that Uchiha Sasuke betrayed Oto to eloped with an Uzumaki Naruto."

Sasuke froze and Sakura let out a soft laugh. "I was lying, of course."

Suigetsu snorted, seeming amused. "I doubt that's the only reason," he said. "When was the last time you walked on your real two feet?"

"Years," she replied easily.

"And how do you know of Naruto?" Sasuke asked, slowing in his steps. He just about managed to stop his eyebrow from twitching.

"I usually can't see outside the room we were in before cause of the seals, which was powered by the shinobi on watch to make sure they’re extra effective. But sometimes, some of them slack off and I use those times to...explore, I guess. Though I can't go out in my real body I could, technically, walk around in my water form so I've been nearly everywhere!"

"Hn." Sasuke turned back to face the front, trying to ignore the cheerful chatter coming from behind him.

"Anything else?" Suigetsu asked excitedly. "Dirt or something I can use against someone?"

Sakura shoved the white-haired teen away playfully. "You're gonna have to earn it, Sui-nii."

Everyone stopped walking.

"Sui...nii?" Karin asked.

Sakura nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "This Hozuki Suigetsu is my brother."

Chapter ONE>

Chapter List

#Ripples #naruto fanfiction #sakura #haruno sakura #sakura haruno #sasuke #uchiha sasuke #sasuke uchiha #sasuasku #sasuke x sakura #sakura x sasuke #karin #jugo #suigetsu #hozuki!sakura

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 years

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Two

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome aboard, Thirsty Crew! It is another random fandom Saturday, where we return to the Commonwealth. Spoiler warnings for essentially every early Brotherhood questline. Tagging @toxiicpop naturally, as is my custom. Enjoy!

Part One

“Well Danse, you’re not going to like my answer.” Cade said finally. Danse noted with confusion that the knight-captain was smiling. Surely his suffering couldn’t be that funny? “You’re fine. It’s not a wasting sickness or an infection. Or rad poisoning.”

“What is it then?” The paladin asked, hating how his voice wanted to shake. He wasn’t a child .

“You are being emotionally affected by that civilian.” Cade replied simply.

Danse scoffed. “Excuse me, sir?”

“This is the first time you’ve come to me with a civilian-related issue, Paladin. Which leads me to believe this is the first time you’ve had an issue with civilian relations.” Knight-Captain Cade flipped through his clipboard. “You’re a model soldier, Danse. This changes nothing. You lost over half your squadron from skirmishes, you were in a certain-death situation earlier in the day and you reached out for comfort in the anonymous because they would not judge your actions. There’s no shame in that. But…” Cade trailed off.

“Fraternizing with that civilian obviously transferred some type of illness via the exchange of saliva.” Danse filled in bleakly, staring down at his hands and waiting for Cade to prescribe him one of his infamously terrible-tasting medications.

Cade made an annoyed noise. “ No , Paladin. Christ, you can be thick sometimes. Your alleged ‘ symptoms ’ are just manifestations of…listen to me, Danse. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re mentally and physically sound. All scans are coming back negative. Granted, I would have preferred for you to keep your mouth to yourself instead of swapping the bodily fluids of an unknown, but you mentioned that this woman was in a stasis, in a Vault , no less. As far as potential partners go, obviously there are worse paths to take. This wasn’t your first time kissing someone, correct Paladin? You’ve done that before?” There was no judgment in Cade’s tone, merely mild teasing.

Danse did his best not to be offended. He just couldn't comprehend why Cade was treating him like this was a joke. The nights he spent at the police station were sleepless. More often than not he got back into his power armor and just patrolled the perimeter of the property, tried to keep the fire barrels well-supplied in case of another feral horde descending upon the location.

He also checked across the river frequently for lights at Graygarden, not just the dim thrusters of those robots but actual lights , some proof that she might have returned. Rhys had caught him squinting into the dark more than once and Danse was a terrible liar, always had been. He knew the knight and scribe must be conspiring because when Haylen would return from her chats with the various supervisory bots, she would make a point to loudly relate any tidbits she might have gleaned from the odd machines across the way. Ones that related to Backhand, anyway.

Civilian Vega.

Danse just couldn't fathom why everyone was so entertained by his strange behavior. Behavior that he couldn't explain. Why was no one concerned about this? This was highly irregular! “I know my body, Cade. There's something wrong with me!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, quickly getting himself under control again. “Look, I told you everything I’ve noticed out of the ordinary. Are you certain there’s no disease I could have picked up?”

“Paladin Danse, you are fit for duty. Dismissed.” Knight-Captain Cade said curtly. At that, Danse knew better than to try and argue, simply shutting his mouth and saluting. “Did the civilian accept your proposal to join the Brotherhood?” Cade asked out of the blue while Danse was putting his uniform back on.

Surprised, Danse shook his head. “I woke up to a note that said she would think about it, sir.” A look of understanding crossed Cade’s face and Danse wished that the older man would just tell him what the hell was going on instead of being cryptic. It would serve him right if he got some kind of deadly disease after surrendering to his urges and fraternizing with a civilian. But Cade said he was alright, and the knight-captain wasn’t known to lie to his charges. Danse just wished he could understand why he felt so miserable.

...

His answer came in the form of an out-of-breath squire over a month later.

Danse hadn’t even noticed the boy hanging off the arm of his power armor, so total was his distraction, until he heard a frantic yelp when he tried to go through the doorway to the outer deck. The squire dropped to the floor, sketching a salute at the paladin. “Paladin Danse, sir, Proctor Ingram requests your presence on the ground!” The squire relayed, looking very pleased with himself.

Danse nodded, unable to hide his grin when the squire quickly climbed back up on his arm. “I take it you’re to accompany me, Squire?”

“The Proctor said that I’m to defend you at all costs, sir!” The boy answered, saluting again.

“Proceed, Squire.” Danse sidestepped through the door to the outside of the massive zeppelin, feeling the stiff breeze whip over the loading scaffold. He was still leery about squires being on their warship, all of them were very young. But Elder Maxson insisted that they 'learn under fire'. “Vertibird or jump?” He asked cordially, entertained by how large the squire’s eyes went.

“Oh I dunno’, sir. P-Probably the vertibird.” The small boy answered, puffing out his chest a little from the power of being offered a choice. Danse headed for one of the docked vertibirds, nodding to the engineer piloting it.

There was nothing quite like flying. Danse had grown to love the sensation over his many years of service. The powerful roar of the dual propellers, the swooping feeling in his stomach when the aircraft disengaged from the Prydwen…and nothing could match raining fire and death upon their enemies via minigun.

The flight was over much sooner than the paladin would have liked and he disembarked from the craft, the squire proudly attached to his shoulder as he made his way across the airfield. Due to her modified power armor frame Ingram towered over the scribes and aspirants, which made her very easy to locate in a crowd. “Proctor Ingram!” Danse called, his brow furrowing when he heard an odd noise. It seemed to be coming from the cluster of soldiers behind Ingram. She just looked worried, beckoning him to hurry up.

“Danse, we have something here that I believe belongs to you.” She said once he was within earshot.

“Something of mine, Proctor?” Danse queried, confused.

“It’s a dog!” The squire said helpfully.

“Yes, but more than that, it’s a dog that’s guarding the paladin’s laser rifle like it’s the most important thing in the world.” Ingram corrected the squire, scooping up the small child and placing him on her own shoulder.

Danse’s mouth went dry. “My…my laser rifle, ma’am?”

“ Yes , Paladin. What, you gone deaf all of a sudden?” Ingram asked testily. “You know, the one that you named via screwdriver chisel. Pretty sure I’d recognize that weapon anywhere.”

Danse felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach. The odd noise was howling . The crowd of aspirants and scribes parted before him to reveal a dog that was very different from the usual wasteland mutts. His brown and black coat was glossy, pointed ears flat against his skull as he bayed and carried on. He looked like the spitting image of a pre-war German Shepherd. At his feet was Danse’s laser rifle. The stock of the rifle was coated liberally with slobber, but there was no mistaking the messy scrawl of ‘ Righteous Authority ‘ on the side of the barrel.

The dog caught wind of Danse and those pointed ears pricked up, the animal whining and barking at the paladin who just stood there, frozen. He had given that rifle to the civilian. He had given that rifle to Backhand . The dog barked at him again, spinning in a tight circle and then facing off towards the coast.

“Did something happen, boy?” Danse found his voice, crouching to get on the dog’s level. He didn’t really care that he probably looked like a complete lunatic , talking to a dog. The mutt howled mournfully, putting up an absolute racket . “Where is Scribe Haylen?” Danse asked, picking up the rifle gingerly.

“She and Knight Rhys are out on a research patrol for Proctor Quinlan. Paladin, what’s going on?” Ingram asked curiously.

“I’m not sure. Only one of us knows and he’s not exactly talking.” Danse replied wryly, nodding towards the dog who had taken off across the airfield the second Danse picked up the gun. “Keep your comms cued in case I need an evac. I’m going to see where this leads, Proctor.”

The dog kept looking back to make sure the armored man was following him, halting and barking furiously if Danse fell too far behind. “I’m coming, dammit.” Danse grumbled, worried at the animal’s urgency. “We don’t all have four legs and light bodies, mutt.”

He was led along the coast, the dog giving the actual beach a wide berth. The sand was crawling with mirelurks. It ensured there was no shortage of field rations, but at the cost of one’s nose. Danse followed the mutt’s lead, wishing that he’d had the presence of mind to pick up his helmet before leaving the Prydwen. There was nothing quite like being armored except for your most vulnerable spot.

Past the high, crumbling walls of what Danse dimly recalled Maxson pointing out as Fort Independence, the dog bolted through the main gate of the fortress. The paladin had to take a moment to regroup, startled and confused at the sight of a massive mirelurk queen corpse. Acid still bubbled thickly on the ground around it amongst the piles of dead hatchlings and broken eggs; the air stank of brackish water and mirelurk droppings.

Fort Independence had been turned into a hive for these filthy creatures. No wonder the Minutemen had abandoned the location as a lost cause. Having a beast that size able to rise from the ocean to savage their fortress any time it desired?

There were burn marks on the creature’s thick shell, laser rifle marks. Oh no . Danse’s eyes snapped up to the doorway the mutt had vanished through. “Dog?” He called cautiously, trying his hardest to keep his emotions under control. For some reason he didn’t care to examine he felt panicked, his heart pounding in his chest as he ducked to enter the archway. He followed the dog’s sad whines to a shadowy corner across the corridor, where he found the crumpled body.

Danse stood there silently for a moment, then dropped to one knee and propped himself up with the rifle. “Dammit.” He swore softly, reaching a gauntlet out to raise her chin off her chest. The dog whimpered, licking her face. Danse shooed him away gently.

“G’boy, Dogmeat.” Backhand suddenly choked, her hand twitching at her side. Danse barely kept from recoiling. He’d thought she was dead! “S’ a good boy. Shh, m’fine.” The pool of half-coagulated blood she was resting in seemed to contradict that statement, never mind the chest and shoulder of her combat armor being partially dissolved to reveal the acid-ravaged skin beneath. Danse noticed her glasses cracked and bent beside her on the ground. She’d fallen hard, then. “It’ll be over soon, pup. You go back to Preston, okay? He’ll take care of you.” She winced in pain. “Ah, shit. Didn’t even make it to the…to the…” She paused, her breathing jerky. “The airship. Told those guys at Cambridge that I was…”

“Backhand.” Danse addressed her firmly, tipping her chin up. Her head lolled to the side and he watched as she tried to open her eyes, struggled to focus on him.

She squinted. “Well well, f’it isn’t the paladin!” She actually mustered up a smile, despite her grievous injuries. “Never got the chance to join you guys…today was the day I’d hoped…” Her voice hitched. “Didn't expect that big cunt t' come out the fuckin' sea. Garvey said the place was destroyed by a...monster. I...I think m' dyin', Paladin. Sir.” She admitted, her shaky words making Danse feel sick to his stomach for the second time that day.

He glanced around wildly for something, anything that could help, and his eyes finally landed on an ancient first aid box attached to the wall. When he moved to stand though, she started crying. Gasping sobs that shook her body and made Danse's hands strangely clumsy and indelicate; he ended up ripping the whole box off the wall instead of just popping the lid. He swore under his breath while he fumbled the box open, nearly crushing the precious Stimpack inside it. “Listen to me, soldier.” He tried his hardest to keep his voice steady, kneeling and taking her chin in his hand again. Her eyes were full of tears, wide-open and staring blankly forward. “ Soldier , stay with me.” He jostled her head and she jerked, groaning in pain. “Just listen to my voice, you're going to be alright but you need to stay awake.”

Danse pulled up the remains of the plaid shirt she had on beneath her armor, cringing inwardly at the state of her skin. It looked like she'd been bathed in the acid, patches and holes eaten away in her stomach and shoulder to expose raw tissue. The fact that she had regained consciousness was a miracle in and of itself. “Danse, m' gonna' die, need you t' find my baby,” she slurred while he uncapped the Stim and carefully injected the majority of it into the intact area of her stomach. He kept some in reserve. If her heart stopped he would need to buy the time to get out of his power armor to do compressions.

“Still with me?” He asked, taking her hand. “You're not dying. The Brotherhood needs you, civilian. I doubt you want your second military career to start with a sternal rub.”

“Give it y’best shot, kid,” Backhand coughed, squeezing back on his gauntlet. “Y’dun't scare me.” She squirmed after a minute or two, struggling to sit up a little. “Fuck, fuck fuck.”

“Be still , let the meds do their work.” Danse ordered. “Once you’re stabilized I’m bringing you straight to the Prydwen. No more sidetracks, understand soldier?”

“Not gonna’ look too good if I show up draped across your arms like you’re The Paladin From The Black Lagoon .” Backhand pointed out. The dog curled up beside her, not seeming to care about the blood and mirelurk muck on the ground. “How did you find me, anyway?”

Backhand’s eyes were focusing better, Danse noted. She was coming out of it. “That dog of yours has a hell of a nose. Mutt carried the rifle I gave you all the way to the airport and put up a fuss until Proctor Ingram fetched me.”

Backhand’s fingers dug into the ruff of fur around the dog’s neck. “What a lifesaver you are, Dogmeat!” she praised, scratching the animal behind his ears. “I’ve got a bit of brahmin meat all wrapped up in my pack just for you.” She squinted up at the paladin. “Sir, can I trust you?”

“I mean, if you have to ask me civilian, you probably don’t.” Danse grunted.

“Dogmeat didn’t rip you apart, which means you’re good people. But can I trust you?” She leaned forward a little, fingers scrabbling at one of the handles on his breastplate. “I found a way in,” she whispered.

Danse felt lost. “You found a way in...?” He repeated after a beat.

“Into the Institute.” Her tone was still hushed, like someone could be listening in.

Danse raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And just how did you manage that?” He didn’t mean to be quite so suspicious, but news of the Institute was slim and none around these parts. It would be just like those shadowy bastards to feed the Brotherhood bad intelligence.

“You don’t believe me. I’ve got...I need… sir , I need to deal with people who know what the hell they’re doing. I need resources.” Backhand sounded desperate. “You said the Brotherhood of Steel safeguards technology to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Well kid, this could be some of the baddest tech you tin cans could get your gauntlets on. Interested?”

“Maybe.” Danse allowed, quickly continuing with, “First things first civilian, we need to get you some legitimate medical attention. Stimpack plugged the holes but you’re far from out of the woods. If you don’t consent to being brought aboard the Prydwen, at least let me bring you to the airport where one of our scribes can look you over.” Danse hoped he didn’t appear as panicked as he felt. She was deathly pale, freckles standing out prominently across the bridge of her nose and here she was babbling about the damn Institute instead of focusing on staving off her imminent shutdown due to blood loss and shock. Normally, any information about the Institute would take absolute priority, regardless of how patchy or suspect, but at this point in time Danse was entirely disinterested in the matter.

She clung tighter to the handle on his power armor and Danse gathered her up carefully, doing his best to adjust his grip so he didn’t chafe or pinch her exposed skin with his plating. The laser rifle was slung over his shoulder. It would be difficult to carry her and fend off any attackers, but if it came down to a no-win situation he could call for a vertibird. “Follow, Dogmeat.” Backhand said weakly, clicking her tongue. The dog whined, bolting forward to stick to Danse’s leg like glue. “Good boy, it’s okay.” She assured him.

“That’s a very… unusual name, civilian.”

“Hey, I didn’t pick it,” she retorted. “He came with the name, s’ the only thing he answers to. I would have gotten real stereotypical and named him Rex or some German shit.”

“I would have thought Champion. He is a very handsome animal.” Danse suggested. The small talk was a tactical choice. He could easily monitor her speech for slurring or further signs of cognitive failure, indications that she was going into a shock state.

She puffed out a breath. “I’d have taken you for the type to call a dog Oscar Mike. Did you seriously name your rifle, by the way?”

Danse shrugged as best as he could. “It allowed me to be a much more effective soldier. Righteous Authority just seemed…appropriate.”

“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard for naming a weapon.”

“Excuse me, civilian?”

“You heard me.” She grimaced. “Not everything needs to be so noble . You oughta’ name it Mirelurk Masher. Feral Fryer. No! Feral Fricassee . Sounds fancier.” She squinted when she grinned. “Oo, what about Chattanooga Choo-Choo? Pennsylvania Six Five Thousand?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The paladin asked, legitimately confused at this point.

“Glenn Miller, you uncultured twit. Try to keep up.” She chided.

Danse mouthed Chattanooga , the word strange to his tongue. Dogmeat barked, as if to agree with his mistress. “Oh no you don’t, mutt.” The paladin grumbled. “I’m not about to be mocked by something that slobbers more than its body weight.”

“Gosh, you sound a little defensive sir.”

“Me? Defensive? I…” Danse paused, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a mirelurk that seemed to have noticed them. “Hold tight if you can.”

“Why am I oh fuck-! ” Backhand gripped the handles on his chest as Danse pulled the rifle forwards with one hand. “Little warning next time, Danse!” The paladin began to stammer out an apology, trying to keep an eye on the quickly-approaching crustacean, but Backhand interrupted him by unbuckling her old army helmet and plopping it onto his head. “Go forth!” She proclaimed over Dogmeat's loud growling.

Danse snorted. “Not exactly up to spec, but it’ll do.” He hoisted her up a bit higher to get her out of claw range, tucking her frame into the crook of his elbow and brandishing Righteous Authority .

“Worst knight in shining armor ever .”

...

The news that Paladin Danse had returned with the dog (and a civilian ) spread through the base like wildfire. He was relatively certain this might lead to some disciplinary action, possibly for an abuse of resources.

He still found one of the medical scribes. Backhand started protesting that she needed to ‘ report in ’ and he silenced her by passing off her helmet. “I’ll talk to the Elder. You let the scribe look you over. Keep your mutt close so he doesn’t distract the squires.”

Paladin Danse feared no man. His elder could be difficult, there was no other way to say it, but he had been a competent soldier when he served with Danse. The paladin was fairly confident that he could convince the other man of Backhand’s usefulness, with or without the wild tale of a way into the Institute.

It was easier said than done though, as he stared at Arthur Maxson’s back. “Elder,” he intoned respectfully, saluting with his fist on his chest.

“Paladin Danse. I’ve heard a troubling rumor.” There was always an undercurrent of danger when Maxson spoke. He was a young elder, with a fuse to match someone of his age and pride. Maxson appeared to already be in a bit of a mood. Danse knew he would have to tread carefully here.

“What is the rumor, Elder?”

“A civilian. A woman, carried boldly into our compound in your arms, with a dog at your leg. We simply bring strays back to our camp now, Paladin?” Maxson snapped.

“Permission to explain myself, Elder.” Danse understood that this wasn’t his friend he was talking to. It pained him to resort to such formality but he knew it would only infuriate Maxson further if he broke protocol.

Elder Maxson grunted, his shoulders rigid. He still hadn’t turned to face Danse, continuing to stare out the window. “Permission granted.” He finally muttered.

“That civilian is the one who came to the aid of my team at the police station. The woman from the Vault. She is… familiar with power armor and military protocols.” Danse was a rotten liar, and he wasn’t much better at telling half-truths. “She had expressed interest in joining, but her circumstances prevented it at that point in time.”

“What was she doing at Fort Independence?” Maxson asked.

“A reconnaissance mission for the Minutemen while en route to join us, it uh…there was a mirelurk queen.”

Maxson whirled and Danse was startled to see how nervous he looked. “A mirelurk queen? ”

“Yes…Elder.” Danse replied slowly.

“The acid from one of those creatures could knock us out of the sky, Paladin. Cripple our operations. It was so close to here and we didn’t even know.” Maxson pounded his fist into his palm. “I’d thought our teams of knights were doing thorough sweeps, but I guess I was wrong.”

“You’ll have to speak with her, but from what I could tell it emerged from the ocean. It may be a deep-sea animal that wanders inland when it needs to lay eggs.” Danse suggested. “With all due respect, I doubt our knights could easily overlook something of that size, Elder. I would advise sending out a research team to document the creature before it rots away.”

“An excellent idea, Paladin Danse.” Maxson’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “What was it that you needed to ask me?”

“The civilian would like to join our ranks, Elder.” Danse inhaled, bracing himself. “I am formally recommending knight status.” Arthur’s eyes narrowed and he clasped his hands behind his back. Danse could feel the proverbial ice he was treading on grow thinner beneath him, so he hurried to say, “Elder Maxson, she’s already trained. It would just be a question of familiarizing her with the advances made in power armor technology. When we engaged in combat together, she followed orders and displayed considerable skill.” Which you would know if you read my field reports .

“That’s all well and good, Paladin Danse, but you of all people should know that we don’t let just anyone suit up around here.” Maxson snapped. “You vouching for her will certainly be taken into account if she reports for duty, and should I deem her worthy of joining our ranks, you will be relieved of your duties with Gladius to take up your new mantle as her sponsor. Any mistakes she makes will have swift and dire consequences. For both of you.” Maxson was not a subtle man. The threat in his words was blatant but Danse refused to be cowed, simply nodding and then saluting again. “I’ll be counting on you, Paladin. Don’t disappoint me.” Arthur finally let a little warmth seep into his tone. “It’s good to see you again, Danse.”

“It’s…It’s good to see you as well, Arthur.” Danse floundered a little, always caught off-guard when Maxson swapped back and forth. He wanted to shout I’ve been here for over a goddamn month, Arthur! Don’t act like you didn’t know I was around! but instead he asked, “How have you been?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s a heavy burden. As ever.” He paused. “It seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Danse.”

“Proctor Ingram and Proctor Quinlan have been keeping me busy.” That wasn’t a lie, between resource and research patrols the paladin had been stretched thin. Danse shifted warily when Maxson sighed.

“I had assumed that was the case.” Arthur murmured. “I wasn’t sure if our conversation from before you departed was still grating on you.”

Conversation? That’s a lofty term. “With all due respect, Arthur, you told me that my squadron had been assigned to an almost certain-death reconnaissance mission and then proceeded to dismiss me from your private quarters without my uniform.” Danse was a bit stunned that Maxson had even brought it up, honestly. “It’s not a… conversation I enjoy recalling.” What the hell is wrong with you, Arthur?

“Mind your tone , Paladin.” There was the Elder again, all sharp words and protocol.

“I meant no offense Arthur, I just…” Danse’s words trailed off at the irritated look on Maxson’s face. “I-I apologize for my overstep, Elder Maxson.”

“See that you remember your place. I won’t be so lenient next time.” Maxson saluted curtly. “Ad Victoriam, Paladin. Send me the civilian.”

“Yes, Elder.”

Danse wasn’t a man prone to fuming or brooding , he found these useless time leeches that clouded one’s judgement. It was much more prudent to be the bigger individual in most circumstances. Unfortunately in this instance, that was easier said than done. He was so angry he could hardly see straight and he knew that he certainly wasn’t going to be able to think straight until he cooled off.

He made his way out to the scaffolding. Entirely forgoing the vertibird this time, the paladin simply walked off the edge of the deck and plummeted to the ground. The Prydwen was a fair distance up but the drop was easily managed in power armor. Mostly, it was irresponsible because he didn't exactly have the jet mod to correct his trajectory lest there be some errant scribe wandering around in the drop zone beneath him. Danse hit the dirt with a teeth-rattling impact, the force creating a shallow crater that he emerged from unscathed. Some of the fury had eased out of his body just from the hard landing and he took a steadying breath.

A squire running by stopped to stare up at him with their mouth open and Danse seized the opportunity to ask, “Has the civilian been moved?”

…

Backhand straightened up when the paladin entered the old airport waiting area, noticing his tightly-clenched fists immediately. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Danse was pissed . “Whoa, I take it this elder guy was not in a gaming mood?”

“What makes you say that?” The armored man asked curtly. The confusing part was that he didn’t seem to be replying sarcastically.

“Because you’re all tense? You’ve got total gorilla posture right now, look like you want to pulverize a wall.”

“You’re mistaken, civilian. I’m fine.”

Backhand grunted but decided that it would be in her best interest to change the subject. “What do you guys do with holotags?”

“I…Excuse me?” Danse cocked his head to the side. “You picked up a set of holotags? Where? When?”

“I told you, I did a lot of salvaging. More than one set. Soldiers in gear with that crest.” She pointed at the mark on the chest of his power armor. “Some tapes too, but I…I stopped listening to most of the tapes I find a while ago.” The sounds of Shaun gurgling and making happy noises in the background while Codsworth rambled about how exciting it was to be an official part of her family sprang to the forefront of her mind every time she reached for a new tape. “They’re in my pack. I wrote down where I found each one, too. I know how this shit works, sir. Next of kin will want everything they can get.”

Danse looked like he’d been punched in the stomach when Backhand had collected every little envelope in her gear and passed them to him. He cleared his throat several times before managing to say, “I…thank you. These…they were good soldiers.”

“I’m sorry, Paladin.” Backhand said quietly.

“There was nothing anyone could have done,” he muttered, sounding like he believed exactly the opposite. “These are from the recon team before us, Squad Artemis. They were the second team that’s been issued out here, and they went dark so fast. My team…” Danse paused. “Well, it’s a good thing you came along.”

Backhand knocked her metal-plated knuckles on his chest armor, making him raise his eyes again. “Don’t look so sad, huh?” She said softly. “You and I both know the risks.”

“Of course.” Danse’s voice was quiet, the tension gone out of his shoulders. He seemed exhausted now. “When you’re able to move, the elder would like to speak with you as soon as possible. He was thrilled that you killed the mirelurk queen,” he continued in a monotone.

Backhand squinted and got to her feet, happy that her legs barely shook. Dogmeat barked, prancing around her legs and almost tripping her up. “Oh Jesus, you furball.” She rummaged through her pack again, dragging the carefully-wrapped packet of brahmin meat out. “I know, I promised. You’ve been very patient.” She laughed, scratching Dogmeat behind his ears before ripping a chunk off the steak and tossing it to him. “Don’t suppose you grabbed my glasses when you came to scoop me up, didja’?” She asked the paladin hopefully.

Danse clicked open the side compartment in his left gauntlet, shocking her when he actually pulled her glasses out of the space. “They are badly damaged.” The armored man warned as he handed them over.

“Doesn’t matter, two half-functional eyes are better than none!” Backhand shook some of the crusty gunk off her frames and plopped them back onto her face. “You’re much uglier than I remember.” She teased, startled when the paladin chuckled.

“Oh, very funny civilian. Come up with that all by yourself?”

One vertibird ride later Danse ushered her onboard the massive airship, promising a stern-looking man ( Lancer? Captain Kells? Lancer Kells? ) the tapes Backhand had from Squad Artemis to quell his questions for the time being. The paladin then took his leave after showing her the command deck. It also appeared to double as an observation deck, with a semicircle of thick windows that looked out on Fort Strong, the open ocean and Fort Independence.

Elder Maxson seemed… young . Backhand got the feeling he’d been thrust into the position and now he was trying his hardest to make someone proud. His appearance, despite his obvious youth, was rather imposing. He was tall, almost as tall as the paladin though not as broad, and sported a thick beard with a long scar over his cheek. Sharp blue eyes peered out at her from beneath his heavy brow. He looked, for lack of a better term, stiff .

That was why she found it so strange that the first words out of his mouth to her were an admission of praise. “Civilian Vega, the paladin has informed me that you performed far above and beyond a normal individual’s level of expertise while out on field maneuvers.”

“I performed to the best of my abilities, sir. As did the paladin.”

“Tell me civilian, what’s your opinion on Paladin Danse's performance?” Elder Maxson queried, watching her narrowly.

Backhand was a bit unbalanced, the question striking her as incredibly odd. She was the one trying to join up, not the paladin. “Sir?”

“You heard me, civilian.”

“He...it’s been ages since I’ve given an oral report, sir, I apologize.” Backhand straightened herself out, her arms rigid at her sides. “The paladin seems incredibly skilled. Dedicated to your cause. I haven’t met anyone else from the Brotherhood except the surviving members of Recon Squad Gladius but they are a fine example for your…organization.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless of course, they’re the exception instead of the rule.”

“Absolutely not. But Paladin Danse and his squadron have been through hell. Before this last maneuver there were seven of them. Good soldiers died on that mission, soldiers we could ill-afford to lose.” Maxson cleared his throat. “You believe that the paladin is competent, I assume?”

“I’ve seen no evidence to indicate the contrary, sir.” Backhand could already tell that her and Maxson were not going to be on great terms, so she silenced the part of her brain that queried what about when he charged into that room full of synths, hollering about the Brotherhood with his guns fucking blazing?

Maxson sighed heavily. “That’s good to hear. Paladin Danse was always an incredible... soldier . I’d hoped his edge hadn’t dulled while in the field.” He squared his shoulders, fixing her with a suspicious look. Those icy blue eyes made her nervous and that pause had been a little too long, but Backhand had dealt with many a young, posturing officer in her day. “The paladin has graciously suggested that you be immediately pushed up to knight, due to your prior experience. I’m curious as to what that prior experience is . Gunners?”

“No sir. The United States army.” Apparently Danse hadn’t told his superior that much about her. Maxson looked irritated, like he suspected her of having a laugh at his expense. “I was cryogenically frozen in a Vault for two hundred years. One of the incentives offered to kids to get them to enlist was being bumped up the waiting list on Vaults if they were honorably discharged.”

“That’s quite the fantastic story you have.” Maxson snapped. “Had I known I’d be letting you aboard the Prydwen to listen to lunatic ramblings, I’d have forbade your entry and had you escorted off our compound. Do you take me for some kind of bumbling idiot?”

“No one knows better than I do how wild and crazy this is. I’ve lived it, after all.” Backhand retorted dryly. “I have pre-war power armor training. I have pre-war military training. I woke up in a goddamn refrigerator to an absolute nightmare and quite frankly, I’m a little exhausted of having to prove myself to every Tom, Dick and Harry that comes along. But you do what you have to. Put me through a combat exercise. Pit me against one of your tin men. I can guarantee not to disappoint in or out of power armor. Sir .”

“The paladin has clearly lost his mind if he believes the story you’ve fed him.” Maxson scoffed, turning his back on her. “I can't say I'm surprised though, he's always been too trusting.”

“I took down a mirelurk queen, sir. I need no paladin to validate my story with a carcass that big.” Backhand could feel her satisfied grin settle into a furious smirk. “There’s a Vault out by Concord.” Triumph surged through her as Maxson slowly rotated enough so he could look at her over his shoulder. “I’d invite you to check it out, but I’m sure the Commonwealth would eat someone like you alive. Send one of your squishy scribes to the location if you really feel like this is a worthwhile usage of resources.”

“I’m a bit perplexed by what you mean when you say ‘ someone like you .” Maxson growled, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“A wise man once told me that a leader who permits his pride to impede his decisions is doomed to failure, sir.”

“ Civilian- ”

“Sir, I have intimate knowledge of the Commonwealth. I lived here. This was my home before everything went to hell. If there’s a chance that I can be useful, even after everything has been destroyed, if there’s a chance I can use what I’ve learned over my time serving…I would ask that you give me that chance.” She wasn’t begging, but she was sure it would sound like she was to this blustering child.

“ Christ , you’re serious, aren’t you? By your account I should already have you fitted for power armor.” He mocked her, obviously off-kilter.

“I don’t know why the paladin suggested knight status, aside from faith in my capabilities. He offered me initiate ranking when he first asked me to join.” She could hazard a guess that initiate was maybe a step or twelve beneath knight.

“Initiate is the only rank he’s allowed to grant. It evens out to your army’s recruit or private.” Maxson explained grudgingly. “Only an elder can grant higher ranks.”

“I guess all roads lead to Rome around here, huh.” Backhand muttered. No wonder this guy acts like a brat, every promotion on this bucket passes through his hands .

“ However , when suggestions are made by my paladins, lancers, proctors, et cetera, I listen. Because I value the input of individuals who have years of experience and dedication.” Maxson faced her fully again, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on the floor. “You understand that if I grant you the ranking of knight like Paladin Danse has suggested, you would have a probationary period where the paladin will accompany you on fieldwork.”

“That’s understandable, so yes I understand.” Backhand replied, barely resisting the urge to raise her eyebrow. This kid really seemed to think he was impressive. “If I mess up, I assume he’ll put a bullet through my skull to save you the trouble, sir?”

“Your flippant attitude is noted, civilian.”

“Will there be any sort of disciplinary action for the paladin if I screw up, since he’s sponsoring me?” Backhand had noticed an uncanny pattern of trouble following her like a little black rain cloud, and the last thing she wanted was to ruin Danse’s career if something went awry.

“No.” Elder Maxson said after another suspiciously long pause. “It’s hardly the paladin’s fault that he’s determined to fatten our ranks.”

“Have you tried recruiting the locals? I’m sure a lot of the Minutemen would-”

“The Minutemen .” Maxson interrupted her with a snort of disbelief. “Did they sincerely send you out alone to clean out that mirelurk nest?”

“To be fair, I was only supposed to be scouting the area. A one-person job.” Backhand grimaced. “There was a large gap in the wall facing the open water and I had a few landmines, so I-”

“ Mines? ”

“Yes sir, mines.”

“Christ.”

Part Three

#paladin danse #paladin danse smut #Fallout #Fallout Four #thirst party saturday #video games #behold all my weaknesses in one post #paladin danse/f!sole #paladin danse/sole survivor #Combat Veteran!Sole #because screw you bethesda I said so #this is so long and I'm not sorry #enjoy!#also Dogmeat #Elder Arthur Maxson #You little punk

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moonysgoonies · 7 years

Text

Second chance (Siris Black x reader)

Request: Your last imagine was great! I wanted to know if you could write an imagine set in the order of the phoenix were the reader is an auror and she was one the few people that believed sirius was innocent (most people thought it was because they dated in highschool) and when the kids go to the ministry instead sirius dying it’s bellatrix instead? And when sirius comes back that when he decides to marry her? (if possible with young sirius instead of gary oldman thank you!) A/N: ... *throws this out of the virtual grave and goes off to take a nap*

Sirius Black was many things: troublemaker, obnoxious, frustratingly immature, unwaveringly loyal to his friends, a cheater to his lovers. He was not a murderer.

Some could say you believed this because you dated him, dated him for a respectable amount of time (an uncharacteristic feat for Black). Granted you were kids, still in your sixth year at Hogwarts and emotionally floundering. And yet.. five months and three weeks were not a fling. And even now you looked back on the relationship with fondness, despite Sirius dumping you for a bustier Ravenclaw.

They lasted three weeks, by the way, the average life span of a relationship with the infamous Sirius.

...Some could say you were still a little bitter about it, not that you would give anyone the chance to...

But anyway, you mourned the lost potential for that relationship and moved on. You assumed that any connection you had to Sirius Black had been stuck in Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, life always seems to have other ideas than what we plan.

"Come now, you look like you've seen a murderer," Sirius teased with a low rasp in his voice as he took another long swig of his drink.

His chair teetered dangerously as he leaned back with arrogant nonchalance. It was signature Black, though you couldn't stop noticing the plaguing shadows under his eyes.

You had heard The Order had a new safe house that would be used as the primary base, you barely registered the news until someone had mentioned to you that the clubhouse belonged to Sirius’ parents. When you had asked why we got to utilize the house now...

Well, it took you less than 2 minutes to apparate a block away from 10 and 14 Grimmauld. It took you less than 13 minutes to decide to walk inside.

And now you were standing in front of Sirius Black in the same home he used to be desperate to run away...

You swallowed, surprised at how tight your throat was. Consciously you relaxed your muscles, forcing yourself to walk closer to the table. You refused to show hesitation as you spoke, "The only way you could kill a person is by cooking them dinner."

Sirius fell forward, slamming the front chair legs on the floor as he laughed good and loud. His whole expression seemed to color a shade more human. “Good ole, (Y/N).” He grinned, “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Suddenly his eyes flashed in wonderment at you. Your chest ached briefly. How much did the dementors take from him? His voice was confident, “Remember that party after I won the House Cup?”

You scoffed instantly, “I believe it was Potter who made the winning shot.”

A distinct glimmer was in his eyes as he stretched his arms to rest his hands on the back of his head. “Only because I managed to get the path clear for him,” he reasoned. Classic arrogant, balloon-brained nut. Your smile grew wider.

“By trying to turn the beater bats into snakes?” You inquired, fondly remembering the faces of both Slytherin beaters.

The cheering swarm was heading back to Gryffindor tower, you followed them up near the tail end when a distressed cry turned your head. The Slytherin beaters had just dropped two curling snakes and you knew just who was responsible for it... There were actual tears in your eyes as you laughed so hard, trying to walk up the hill when out of nowhere Sirius managed to sidle up next to you. Suddenly his voice was in your ear, “See? I paid attention in Transfiguration.” Your cheeks burned at the heat of his breath against your ear.

Before you, Sirius outright beamed. “Hey, at least I didn’t do it during the game, as you know.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit, your smile a bit confused. “Yes, because I watched the game,” You explained plainly.

Somehow he grinned even wider. Your eyebrows narrowed.

“What?” You almost had to restrain your outcry.

“You don’t even like Quidditch games.”

Your eyes widened in realization, his eyes closed in cool triumph.

“I-It was an important game!”

“And yet you’ve gone to every game before that.”

Your cheeks flared. The arrogant buffoon was right again. Damn him. “Now you’re criticizing me for going to social events?”

His smile was devious and crooked, “And I quote, 'There are more useful things to spend time on than chasing a ball on a broom.’”

Oh. You did say that to Sirius, in your sixth year, which he surprisingly answered with a pause before laughing it off and pulling you in for a kiss. Well-

Sirius grinned wider. ...Screw him.

“I never said that,” You crossed your arms and shifted away from him slightly.

He stood up. You refused to watch him, instead opting to listen for the creak of the wooden chair being pushed back, the shifting of his clothes as he neared you. You prepared a pointed look and aimed it right at him.

He was closer than you anticipated and you shivered, entirely still as he stared deep into your eyes. Suddenly he exhaled, beaming, “It’s really good to see you.” He said it with a tenderness you didn’t know he had, a tenderness he probably didn’t have... couldn’t have before...

Your eyes softened, taking in all of him. It was like walking into a ghost story, and that didn’t just refer to the banshee screams from Sirius’ dear mother either... Seeing Sirius was quite literally unbelievable, but then again Sirius was usually unbelievable.

“You-” You whacked Sirius again! “-are-” Whack! “-bloody unbelievable!”

“Ow! Geez, woman!” Sirius flinched as your fists bellowed against his arms, his chest. He ducked his head, crying out, “Not the hair!”

“Who would’ve taken care of Harry if something were to happen to you!!” You yelled.

You were quite oblivious to the small auditorium of colleagues and Hogwarts students gathered to hear you chew out Sirius Black. The looming Veil stood just a few feet away from your argument, and it took just a perfectly timed glance at Sirius to notice that Bellatrix would’ve collided him through the gate had you not hit him with a jinx that knocked him out of death’s hands...or curtain or whatever.

Still! Seconds from death and he still had the cheek to annoy you!

“You would be an excellent godmother,” He offered weakly with an amused smile. Your eyebrow twitched from glaring so profusely. “I’m sorry,” He said, despite the smile tugging at his lips.

“No, you’re not.” You spat at him, pacing a bit in one direction. “You’re reliving your glory days and frolicking in it while Harry has to worry about your soul being sucked through the Veil-What in the witch’s cauldron are you smiling about?!”

Of all moments, Sirius finally kept his stupid, smiling trap shut. He gently walked towards you, his voice in a reasonable tone saying, “I really shouldn’t make Harry worry.”

Your cheeks burned as you agreed, “Q-quite right. He needs a responsible role model to look up to.” As Black neared you found yourself leaning away, his presence overwhelming your flow of breathing, igniting every goose bump on your skin. You struggled to stop fidgeting and look him straight in that magnetic gaze.

“I couldn’t agree more,” He said just above a whisper. “You know,” he began as he leaned his nose in so it barely brushed yours, “I really do think you’d be an excellent godmother.”

As a school girl, you often daydreamed about the day when Sirius Black would want to settle down. You imagined it so differently than right now if that moment was happening-

And now Sirius was taking your hand and bringing the knuckles to his lips so softly you couldn’t speak even if you tried.

You watched his Adam's apple as he gulped, surprised to hear his hesitating, “So, how about it?”

“How about what?” You echoed gently.

“Marrying me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled a laugh, bringing his forehead to yours. “It was only ever you, (Y/N).”

You leaned back a touch as his nose grazed yours, causing you both to still. “Then,” you began, “why did you let me go?”

“Because I’m a moron.” His hands ran up to your shoulders, squeezing them. “James knew how I felt, even if I was too much of an idiot to accept it. I-I thought I could convince myself it wasn’t-isn’t real. As you can see, I failed quite miserably.”

“Quite stupendously,” you agreed in a far off voice. You were focusing on the glow of an almost pale blue in his piercing gray eyes.

“Someone is enjoying this too much.” He pressed his chest against yours and a smile curled on your lips as his grazed passed your cheek.

“Yes.” You agreed, a light suddenly glowing within you. You pulled your head back and stared into his eyes. The question was already in his eyes. “Yes,” you answered me. “I’ll marry you.”

An excited cry left your throat as Sirius picked you up and spun you around. You laughed as he finally set you down.

“You know what this means right?” He spoke with an almost wild ecstacy.

“What?” You mused, your eyes closed and feeling him wrap his arms around your waist.

“We get to invite that git Prescott Thompson who took you to the Yule Ball, that slimy-” Whack!

“Sirius,” You grabbed his collar and forced him to your level. “Do not ruin your proposal or it won’t be your last.”

Even as you threatened him, he didn’t even hesitate as a dopey grin spread across his features. “I love you.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine

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fulgadrome · 7 years

Text

For an art trade with @goldenscribe / @iron-loaf

Summary: Shino fights both Torune and his mother during the Edo Tensei event, and it is incredibly traumatizing.

Word Count: 2507

Shino Aburame prided himself on his adaptability. A ninja battlefield was a mad eruption of deadly, constantly shifting conditions even at the best of times. The abilities that shinobi could bring to bear were often strange and ubiquitously dangerous. One of his very best friends, a quiet and unassuming girl to the average observer, had a vision technique that could pierce solid matter and had a range that numbered in kilometers. Combined with a dexterity that boggled the mind, she and those of her family line used their kekkei genkai to attack the very chakra network of their enemies. The ease with which they could shut down their opponent’s bodies was, frankly, frightening.

And that was simply one jutsu, of an innumerable count. Shino was well aware that at any moment, even seemingly feeble opponents might pull a trump card and swing the flow of battle in their favor. It needn’t be something as dramatic as a flashy technique, either—there were hardened professionals who built their careers on nothing but the mastery of the basics, who nevertheless came out on top, despite deviating little from what might be considered “academy level”. In the right hands, a well-placed kunai was just as treacherous as a fireball. His was a volatile, unpredictable profession. Even the best laid plans must account for that fact.

Shinobi that couldn’t adjust to the situation as required simply weren’t suited to the career. He believed this firmly, and without malice. Just as he believed that with his temperament and intellect, he was well-suited.

But this…

Only his reflexes were saving him now.

“Losing focus? I know I taught you better than that, Rolypoly,” the woman said, launching herself forward. He dodged backwards, out of her range, and found his back planted against a large outcropping of stone, nowhere to go. Sloppy.

His environmental awareness had taken a toll. No, that was inaccurate. He was devastated… on all fronts.

In an instant, his assailant was upon him. Her heel came down with a crack like lightening, and Shino substituted himself for an insect clone he’d placed at the start of the confrontation. The woman’s kick passed through the clone’s throat, and a black spatter of kikaichū erupted from his double’s wound. Even though it wasn’t really his body, the image was like something from out of a nightmare. The entire situation was.

“You cannot win if you do not even try, Shino. You must fight back.” She drew a knife from a pouch, and twirled it in her hand, just as he’d seen her do a thousand times. His heart seized. Once, when he was just four or five, Shino had gotten into her weapons pouch and accidentally cut himself trying to replicate that trick. Kintsugi, seeing how he had managed to gouge his foot, kept her weapons sealed away at all times from then on—and continued to do so, well past the point where such precautions were necessary, long into his academy years.

Such a foolish child he had been. Shino still had the scar.

“Eyes forward, now. You will beat this,” she said.

He wasn’t so certain.

On those long nights where he could do nothing but stare at the ceiling and stew in the memories of Kintsugi’s death, he tried to imagine her at peace. That his mother was happy and whole, in some distant place. It was a thought that brought him some modicum of comfort. But there was no sense in avoiding the reality of the situation. This really was his mother, resurrected by the foul crime against nature that was Edo Tensei. She should be at rest, not dragged into a war by a traitorous psychopath.

And yet here she stood, revived, enslaved. A tool in the arsenal of a megalomaniac, forced to fight against the very nation she had lost her life defending. It was a despicable tactic, but he couldn’t fault its effectiveness.

He was falling all to pieces. This was agony.

She was almost exactly as he remembered. Beautiful, and so, so strong. He hadn’t seen her since he was a child, and… and he was grown now. She had always towered in his memories of her, but now she seemed so small.

“Mother,” he choked out, before his vision went white. Someone had struck a blow to his head from behind. Shino avoided the following blow, which might well have proved fatal.

It was Torune. Kintsugi had cloaked the sound of his approach with genjutsu.

“You must be more careful, Shino. My rinkaichū can make even a glancing blow deadly.”

Shino was well aware of that—had always been, even before his attempts to interbreed the rinkaichū with his own kikaichū, a task he had approached with the utmost care. Before his brother was taken—before Shino had a brother—when father first came home with a boy in a strange mask and declared that cousin Torune would be living with them from now on, the announcement had come with a great many warnings. Be careful not to touch his bare skin, Shino. Be careful not to handle his clothes or toys—not until he learns better control. He could recall how mother’s face would tense when he and Torune stood too closely for her liking, how father would gently separate them. But Torune had won them all over in the end, with his endless patience and gentle spirit.

Those precious few years where they had all been together, as a family, were his very happiest.

Shino whirled around, deflecting a knife thrown by his mother as he weaved through Torune’s guard, delivering a half-hearted blow with the blunt end of his kunai. He disengaged as quickly as possible, back on the defensive, and continued his retreat. It was like a parody of the spars they had done in the past—play-fighting, really. His mother always knew how to make a game of training.

A fire jutsu cut off Shino’s exit, and he body flickered up the rock face, taking a handful shuriken in the back as he ran—the metal mesh woven into his thick jacket absorbed most of the damage.

It wasn’t fair. He knew how pathetic that sounded, but this absolutely wasn’t fair. Bad enough to have lost them both once already—now he was to take their lives a second time, by his own hand?

This was too much to ask of anyone.

…and he only had one seal.

Shino cleared the ledge, vaulting over the rocks at the top and breaking into a sprint. Distance, he needed distance. As it was, the two of them were keeping him in the middle as they attacked, blocked his exits, and whittled away at him. His mother had been a jounin, and Torune, part of a branch of ANBU. In a way, it was impressive he had survived this long. If he didn’t know better, Shino would think they were holding back… but that simply wasn’t possible.

A wall of rinkaichū rose up in front of Shino, herding him to the left, into an obvious ambush. The rocky plateau seemed to warp under his feet, becoming the path leading up to their home, and the scent of some delicious home-cooked meal was in the air no no it was an illusion—

The kikaichū shocked him out of the genjutsu before it could take, but even that short glimpse had him hesitating long enough for Kintsugi to close the distance between them. She slashed up at his cheek, going for his eyes, and out of surprise from the sheer viciousness of her strike, he retaliated with an absolutely brutal kick. He could feel her ribs snapping. She smiled proudly at him even as she slid backwards. Had she been trying to goad him into such a counterattack?

“A few more blows like that, and this will be over. I know you can do it, Rolypoly.”

Why did she keep saying that? Didn’t she see that he couldn’t?

Then Torune approached from behind, and Shino was trapped all over again. At least until a bright yellow flash appeared, grabbed him under the arm, and hauled him away—just as Kintsugi and Torune’s attacks converged, where he had been standing a moment before. Shino peered at the figure, glowing with a familiar chakra.

“Naruto?” he asked. The boy shook his head before setting him down.

“A shadow clone,” his classmate explained.

Shino came shakily to his feet.

“I sensed your chakra and it felt like you were in trouble, so I came running,” the clone of Naruto said, grinning. “Looks like I came just in time, huh?”

Shino grimaced. He was exhausted, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Still, some part of him wanted to smile—Naruto coming to his rescue, remembering his chakra signature… it was a far cry from the boy who didn’t even remember his name, let alone the prankster he’d been in the academy. Shino was glad his friend was here, even if it was only a shadow clone.

“Those reanimated guys… they looked a little like you,” the clone said. Shino nodded grimly.

“It would be odd if they did not. Why, you ask? Because they are my family.”

The shadow’s clone’s slight smile faded. The look he gave Shino then was sad and understanding, full of empathy.

“The woman… my mother, is a jounin level combatant, specializing in ninjutsu and genjutsu. The other is Torune. The jutsu he’s preparing, a poisonous cloud of insects, will devastate our forces if it is allowed to trigger—these same insects cover his body as well, so you must be careful not to touch him.”

The clone rubbed the back of his head, as if pondering the situation.

“Well, I go poof if I get hit anyway, so all I have to do is not get hit, ya know? Not too different from normal. And, hey, Shino. How about I distract the purple one for a while? Buy you a little time?”

Shino would never admit this out loud, but Naruto had developed some measure of… emotional perceptiveness. He was deeply grateful.

“Thank you,” he said, and Naruto flashed him a grin and a thumbs up before taking off in Torune’s direction.

He was alone for only a short while before Kintsugi appeared.

“Was that the Uzumaki boy? It is good to see he made something of himself.”

Shino almost laughed at her conversational tone. She sounded as if— as if they just happened to not have seen each other in a while, and she had stopped by to catch up on gossip.

“He is surprisingly formidable,” he replied. It wasn’t quite as convincing. There was too much pain in his voice.

“Then he should have no trouble holding Torune off, for a time,” she said, running through a blindingly quick series of hand seals. “You must finish this now.”

She was right, he knew.

Shino took a deep breath, and steeled himself. His kikaichū were an ineffective countermeasure against Torune, but his allies would have no such trouble facing Kintsugi.

The fire jutsu his mother unleashed, a white-hot whip that snaked along the ground, found no target but the open air. Shino practically flew past her, scattering kikai to dampen his chakra signature, utilizing every stealth technique he had ever learned as he hid himself among the rocks and crevices of the uneven terrain. As he darted through cover, insect clone after insect clone emerged, forming a rough circle around Kintsugi. Her fire whip crackled, slicing through two of his clones, then three, leaving the air stinking of burnt chitin. The beetles unharmed by her attack swarmed her, draining her chakra in tiny increments even as she fled faster than they could follow.

Fled, right into his hastily constructed traps. Most of them she managed to avoid. Some misfired, sending their projectiles sailing harmlessly into the distance. But a handful successfully ensnared her, and that was enough.

Here, a length of razor wire cut into the flesh of her calf. There, a kunai buried itself deep into her shoulder. She seemed to be trying to suppress her cries of pain, all for his sake. It was astonishingly difficult to watch.

Not as difficult as it would be to inflict such damage with his own hands, however. And as his supplies rapidly depleted, he knew he would soon have to do just that. He only had the single sealing tag, and it must be applied manually.

But first, he had to disable her.

His chance came when his mother stumbled, the injury to her leg finally catching up with her. He tossed his last knife at her uninjured leg, giving away his position to hopefully immobilize her.

“Please forgive me,” he muttered, as his remaining clones burst, sending their payload of destruction beetles ripping and tearing their way into Kintsugi’s limp form.

“Oh, Rolypoly,” she said, right behind his ear.

She had substituted away—

A knife buried itself in his gut, and twisted.

“There is nothing at all to forgive. Do what you must to this resurrected body. But no matter what, you must live, Shino. Do you understand?”

He only had a moment.

There was no time to say any of what he wanted. No time to tell her how much she meant to him. No time to tell her about his team, about his accomplishments, about how Father was faring, about the state of her jewelry store. There was so much he wanted to say. So much to discuss, from petty little topics, to the most profound.

But he only had a moment.

He turned and wrapped his arms around her, pressing the red seal into the small of her back. He could feel blood oozing from his wound, but didn’t let go of her, not even to apply pressure to it. For a moment, Kintsugi grappled with him, and Shino could almost trick himself into believing she was returning his embrace.

Almost.

Then, travelling outwards from the seal, white script began to rapidly cover his mother’s body, and she went limp his arms. Suddenly, he couldn’t support her weight. When he released her, she crumpled, and was still.

There was nothing but the sound of his own labored breathing.

He clutched at his jacket.

His mother didn’t move. She— she wasn’t moving anymore. He was shaking.

Shino fell to his knees and let out a low, distressed noise—even to his own ears, he sounded like a wounded animal. Gently, he touched his mother’s face.

“Mother?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She was unresponsive, her eyes glassy as she stared through him.

“M-mother?” he repeated. “Can you hear me?”

…

There was no time for this now, he knew.

Sparing Kintsugi one last glance, Shino Aburame ran—either he would help his friends put an end to this war and succeed, or he would join Torune and his mother.

No matter how it ended, there was no room in his hearts for regrets.

#fan fic #naruto #shino aburame #oc #art trade #kintsugi #iron-loaf

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philosophicalphangirl · 7 years

Text

Percyleth

Critical Role fic, slight AU, MAJOR spoilers up to episode 84: Loose Ends.

(Percyleth, AU if Vaxleth and Vex/Percy didn’t happen and Scanlan didn’t leave.)

“Percy?” Kelyeth asked as she knocked on the door to his room in Whitestone castle.

No response.

“Percy, are you in there?” she knocked again, more quietly this time.

No response.

She turned around and walked away but paused as she heard a slight wooden creak behind her.

“Yes, Keyleth?” Percy’s voice sounded from the hallway.

She turned around. “I thought maybe you were in your workshop, still working on fixing your guns, or… whatever it is that you do in there…” she trailed off.

“No, no fortunately that went rather quickly. I decided I needed the rest more than the work, at least for tonight.”

“I see…”

“Can I help you with something?” he asked after waiting a moment for her to initiate the conversation that she came for – like she never does.

“Oh, yeah… I… Can I come in for a moment?”

“Certainly, I’m sure I could use the company right now, or else I’ll just get myself into more trouble somehow, you know how I can be.” He smiled as he opened the door widely enough for her to enter and stepped back further into his room.

Keyleth followed him in and shut the door behind her.

“I apologize for the lack of furniture, Cassandra took the liberty of disposing of all my ‘unnecessary’ items and using them for the treasury,” he commented with his typical mix of apathy and tengulousness which had been prevalent the entire length of the conversation so far.

“Oh, yeah… Well I’m sure she needed it, you know… Castle stuff. I’m sure she’s using it well. I mean, a bed is fine, right? It’s not like we’re here often enough to where you need much anyway, I’m sure that’s what she was thinking at least. And a bed, you know… You can sleep on it and sit on it, so…”

“Yes, it’s quite versatile, I suppose, when you need it to be.” He sat down on it and motioned for Keyleth to follow suit.

She stayed standing, only half noticing Percy’s gesture. “You know, I’ve always liked them… Beds, I mean. They’re so… yeah, they’re versatile, aren’t they?”

“They’re a lot like us, I suppose. Good at the one thing which they do best, usable for other things as well, and also incredibly fragile and rigid and easy to ruin. Such is life, as we are all the more discovering. But you did not come here for my dark, disreputable wisdom, I assume. You have something on your mind, and my guess is you need a terrible idea to show you the light in what you originally thought.”

Keyleth let out a slight chuckle. “You’re not wrong. But you’re not right, either. Not as much as you normally would be.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.” He motioned again for her to sit. This time she obeyed.

“Percy…” She paused, but he let her gather her thoughts. “You have… you’ve been through a lot recently. We all have, but you most of all. We’ve… We’ve known each other for a while now, we all have… We’re like family. We’re all we have left, after Emon… After Thordak. When we lost you… to Ripley… I thought, ‘This is it. This is where it starts.’ We lost Tiberius, I knew that… That stupid, evil… that dragon…”

“Who has now been dispatched and left to rot in his own cursed prize land.”

“I know… But that doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t hurt any less. And I know. I know this is exactly what you’re trying to tell me about Raishan and the Fire Ashari and all of that… That losing Tiberius and killing Vorugal… It may be justice, but it doesn’t make it right, that doesn’t fix it, and it will be the same way with Raishan, but… But that’s not what I’m here about. I’m here about you, Percy. After we found Tiberius – after you found Tiberius – it hurt. He was… he was family. But… He wasn’t one of us anymore, you know? He was… we’d already lost him when he left, and this was just… This meant he wasn’t coming back. Right? I mean, he was Tiberius, wasn’t he?”

Percy spoke slowly, cautiously, trying to gage where exactly Keyleth was emotionally right now. “He was always a man of Draconia. There was nothing any of us, or even all of us, could ever have done to change that. I think he knew in his heart that what he told us when he left was the truth: that he had his own path to pursue, and Vox Machina, whatever we were becoming at the time, was not on the same road as he was on. We… we are not heroes. We are not good people. We’ve all made mistakes, yourself included, and you know this. But we are called to play the role of symbols behind which the people can rally. Without symbols, something to gather behind, no one would fight back. We fight back because we must, because we have no other choice, because we’re desperate. Most of us are desperate just to make up for the evil that we’ve done in the world. You, you’re desperate simply to not do any more evil to it. Tiberius was a man who, for all his intelligence, could not see the wisdom in fighting an independent battle like we do. He grew up in nobility, in power, as I did. But he was never the kind of person to seek that power from other sources. He believed it came from the heart – and from community. The kind of community we could not provide. He was always meant to be in a position of leadership, in one way or another, over the people and the land he loved so dearly; just as I was always meant to be in a position of subjugation to forces I did not understand and did not care to.”

“That’s not true, Percy.”

He cut her off. “I know what you think of me, and you’re wrong. I said it before; I’ve always said it. I’m not a good person. None of us are. If there is a good person alive, I’ve not met him. Tiberius was not a good man – but he was a good sorcerer. He had great power within himself, and his path was to use it in a way we could not accompany. Draconia was his home. I don’t know how often we must have teased him for it, but his pride, in himself and in his homeland and his people, was one of his greatest attributes – and one of his most dangerous, to himself, to us, and to our enemies. He was always meant to be with his people. He died for his people. For him to have stayed with us, to have inevitably fallen with us, as we all will sooner rather than later, would have been a great injustice to him, to his people, and to us. We would have robbed him of his greatest legacy – that he died fighting for his people in the ruins of his homeland. We did not lose him. We never lost him. He was never part of us to be lost. He just came along the ride for a while. Which means that we never could truly lose him in the first place.”

“Maybe… Maybe so. I think you’re right. He never really seemed to… to mix with us, or to want to. He always kept himself on the outside, and we respected that. But still, to lose him – or to see him there, at least, frozen… Knowing we could have protected him. Could have helped him survive…”

“And killed the person he was all the while.”

“Maybe… But then seeing you there, Percy… Lying there on the ground, not moving… You’d always isolated yourself from us, too, almost as badly as Tiberius had. We’re all isolated, in a way, but you… You are part of this family whether you like it or not, and seeing you there… It ripped away a part of me that I still haven’t gotten back. We’ve fallen before… Some of us have died before, and it’s been… It’s been awful, Percy. But you… You’ve always been…” Keyleth sighed. “When Pike died, it was an awakening for me. For all of us. She was the one who held us together when we were falling apart. The thought that we could lose her meant that we could lose anyone. But we got her back. When Grog died from that stupid sword, that sword you gave him, we almost lost our strongest member. We almost lost Grog in the pursuit of strength, because we were stupid. None of us saw it, and those who did were stupid enough to believe that we were stronger than the evil that burned inside him. We beat your evil, sure, but that’s no excuse for thinking that we can actually handle ourselves out there in the real world. Then Vex died. She just… We got lucky. We got so lucky with her, with Vax. And now we have the Raven Queen on our side, whatever that means. Now Vax has wings and healing magic and a pool of bloody visions and… And we still have Vex. But you… I thought we had lost you – lost someone, one of our own, for good this time. Pike brought you back, but… It took so long, far too long, to get you to her, and whatever it is that happened to you while you were dead, with that stupid shadow demon of yours, and your soul, and that stupid raven skull that’s around your neck… I told you before, when I gave that to you, that we weren’t… None of us were…” She sighed again. “But losing you… I thought that meant the end. Despite what you say, all the doom and gloom that you bring and carry with you – and that sometimes manifests itself into an actual monster of real doom and gloom – I always thought that you would be the last to go. You have so much in you that you hide away that surely all of that would help you hang on, even when all the rest of us had died. Seeing you dead, the first of our real family to die, I thought that was it. The beginning of the end – what should have been the end of the end. I thought that there was no way we could go on after that. We’d all be gone, Thordak would kill us and Taldorae would be in flames for the rest of time. But then you came back to us and… And now I don’t know what to think.”

“And you want me to tell you that it’s all okay because everyone and everything will eventually die at some point anyway, no matter what?” he joked.

Keyleth laughed. “I don’t know. If I wanted a happy answer I would go to Pike. If I wanted some sort of reassurance of this group, this family, I’d go to Vax. I could even go to Scanlan if I wanted to. But I want the truth. Even Vex, for all her perception, doesn’t see things entirely clearly most of the time. But Percival Fredrick… Fredrickstein… Vox…”

“Percival Fredrickstein von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo III.”

“…But Percy of Whitestone sees the world more clearly, through whatever shade-colored glasses you have, than anyone else I’ve ever met. And I need the truth right now.”

“The truth is like I always tell it, Keyleth. We’ll all die someday. I’ve accepted that. Maybe that’s what’s turned my hair so white so soon,” he chuckled. “My goal is to help everyone else accept that as well while trying to keep them alive in order to do it, even though I seem to fail miserably at it. You said it yourself, I’m the reason Grog died.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“No, but you arrived at the truth. I gave him Craven Edge, and that’s what killed him. I was careless after we killed the Beholder, I wanted the vestige, and that’s what killed Vex. I’m not a good person. Maybe that’s why I have such terrible ideas. I can’t help the world. I can’t save it from itself or from me. But I can try. I can try to help preserve it. Fortunately, or unfortunately as most more correctly see it, I can only ever think to do that by destroying everything else.”

“You always talk about destruction. You build things, and they destroy things. And then you destroy the things you built.”

“Oh, not always, Scanlan does that for me before I get the chance to.”

Keyleth chuckled again. “But you’ve built relationships here, with us. And you don’t tear those down. You don’t destroy those.”

“Oh, I will, trust me. Just give me time.”

“No, you won’t. You can’t. You can’t destroy these ties you’ve made with us, Percy. We love you. That’s why we brought you back. Because you’re one of us, and we love you.”

“Is that the truth you came here to find?”

“No…” she sighed. “I already knew that. I knew that before Ripley. I just… I think I want to know what it was like for you to be dead. To be away from us, from this, from Taldorae and Thordak and the world and the evil that we face every day.”

“Oh, I may have been away from Taldorae, but there was far more evil waiting for me beyond Taldorae. You know that more than anyone. You’re the one who saved me from it.”

“I know… And I felt it. I felt him. All that evil that you had inside you for so long, I think I finally understood a little bit of it. But after that, after I separated you from him, what was it like? Death?”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember any of it. I know I felt loved by all of you. I know you all saved me and brought me back. But the last thing I remember before waking up… Right up until the last moment, he was… He was feasting on me, on my soul, and the evil he had planted there that still remained, regardless of his influence. It was terrible, and I won’t forget it. Probably ever. But the last moment, the last thing I remember before waking up on the table to all of you, was you, Keyleth. I remember feeling you break the tie between me and him. And finally I was free of him – not like last time, where I lost the gun too, where I lost a part of myself as well. I was free of everything. Free of him, free of the world, free of evil. And that was only because you reached in and saved me. Now obviously it says a lot about me, none of which should be news to anyone unless they trust me far more than they should – which is to say if they trust me any amount at all – it says a lot about me that both times I’ve needed someone else to save me from him. But I was only able to be free of his influence this time, free of his evil that had stayed inside me, because of you and the goodness that is in you. We’re all evil. We’re all terrible people. I’ve never met a good person in my life. But out of everyone I’ve ever met, Keyleth, you are the most innocent, the most naïve, and the most good. So often I am so proud of you when you learn to do something deceptive or cruel, but more than anything I am most proud of you for staying who you are despite all my attempts to influence you and turn you into myself. Don’t ever listen to me, Keyleth. Don’t ever let me get through to you. I couldn’t stand myself if I let myself turn you into even a shadow of me. Don’t let me.”

“You’re a good man, Percival. I don’t care what you say.”

Percy laughed at the unintended irony. “I suppose I deserve that, and I can’t correct you without retracting my previous statement. Well done. And thank you.”

“’Thank you’?”

“Thank you for saving me from him. Thank you from saving me from myself and my influence on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s a reason I gave you that skull. As long as you wear it, that means you can’t be all bad.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, but in this case I suppose I will digress to you, your majesty. Even if this is technically my castle. Even if my sister has taken all of my stuff…”

Keyleth laughed. “Goodnight, Percy,” she said.

“Goodnight, Keyleth. Don’t ever let me turn into a good man.”

She smiled. “I’ll do what I can,” she added as she started to stand up.

He lightly grabbed her arm. “Sit down, please. There’s one more thing.” She obeyed as he stood up and walked over to his pack. He dug something out, covered it in cloth, and sat back down on the bed. “Here, take this.” He put it into her hands. She unwrapped it to reveal a gun.

“Percy, I can’t—”

“I know you can’t, and that’s why I want you to have it. It’s not an evil weapon, only the people who wield it are evil. It wasn’t Ripley’s; it was one of her henchmen’s. I want to teach you how to use it. I know you have your vestige now, and it’s wonderful. It’s great, and it’s yours. But this is a way to protect yourself even without magic. You may find a need for it one day, and I don’t want to have had the opportunity to help you and to not have taken it.”

“Does this mean you’re giving one to everyone?”

“No. Just you.”

“Why me?”

“Because you saved me, Keyleth. Scanlan just threw my gun into a pool of acid. Pike cast a spell that brought me back. You reached into my twisted soul and saved me, and that deserves some sort of twisted repayment. This gun is the best thing I’ve got that fits that description.”

“Percy, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, and you will. I’ll teach you. It’s not as complicated as it looks, really. You just point and shoot.”

“I thought you didn’t want to turn me into you.”

“Well, as long as you don’t say ‘okay’ to a dream about an evil shadow monster telling you how to make these things, I think you’ll manage. Besides, I never really mean anything I say, do I?” He smirked in his typical complex fashion.

“Percy…”

“Just take it. Just for tonight. I’ll teach you about it in the morning.”

“No. I can’t.” She shoved the gun back into his hands. “You’ll have to find another way to repay me,” she retorted, trying to seem smart and imposing.

“I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

He barely let her finish her sentence before he kissed her hard on the lips. He stayed there for a moment, barely caressing her hand – which still held the gun that he refused to take back – before pulling away and leaning back.

“Percy…”

“That’s why. Because, other than finding some way to protect you, that’s the only way I can think to repay you. You said that you came in here because you wanted the truth. There you have it. You saved me, and you’re all I ever think about. You’re all I want to protect in this world. You’re all that seems worth protecting to me, other than simply preserving life itself – which is doomed in the first place. You wanted truth. There you have it. I love you.” He waited for a moment, but Keyleth remained thoughtfully silent. “So please. Take the gun, let me teach you how to use it, and one day, after I’m gone, destroy it. When the world is safe, and you’ve taken your rightful place as headmaster of the Air Ashari.”

“Percy, I…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m the one with all the terrible thoughts, remember? I’ll just leave you with that.”

“You said you loved me.”

“I never mean anything I say, remember?” He kissed her again, lightly this time, allowing her more room to back away. She didn’t. “See? Don’t try to figure me out. I’m still working on it myself.”

“I don’t know myself well enough to even try to know what someone else is thinking… But I know there’s more to love than just… than just whatever this is right now… And I don’t… I know you’re not telling me everything. But I know you’ve been telling me the truth.”

“I have been. If I could explain myself then it wouldn’t truly be worth the time it took, would it? People are complex. That’s what makes us interesting. That’s what makes life worth living. If it could be explained away, then it wouldn’t be worth it. If love could be explained or expressed, it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Keyleth kissed him this time. “Maybe not… But it’s certainly worth exploring.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Are you and I… Are we… I mean… You know… Are we… going to find out?”

“Let’s pray to Sarenrae that we don’t ever figure it out.” They smiled as they pressed their foreheads together.

#short #short fic #fic #fanfiction #Critical Role #YouTube #Percy #Percyleth #Keyleth #Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III #Whitestone #Thordak #Vox Machina #beds #kiss #romance #fluff #Dungeons and Dragons #DnD

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