#it was a miscarriage of justice because i knew the word fuck

[dummygothicc]

Nothing in life is certain except death, taxes, and that Justine Littlewood can BOG OFF

#jacqueline wilson #tracy beaker #fun fact i got in trouble at secondary school because i told another student to bog off #it was a miscarriage of justice because i knew the word fuck #and i was trying to be user-friendly #plus the girl i told to bog off was a big bruised banana

[teyamsatan]

The Archer | Chapter IX: Safe and Sound (All is Found)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: You and Kiri wander into the unknown in your search for the eldest Sully, whilst he's forced to come to terms with his own mortality and make a choice between a comfortable past and an uncertain future.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 10,5k words

Warnings/notes: angst (lots and lots of angst), mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, some fluff.

A/N: Surprise! This is not the last chapter of The Archer!!! I tried to finish it, I really did, but there was no way to do it justice in just one chapter, so I hope you will be happy to know I am working on the actual last chapter right now and that should hopefully come out on Monday. We're almost at the end and I am incredibly emotional thinking of this series finishing, and I hope you guys have enjoyed coming on this 200k word journey with me. I love you all so so much and thank you for reblogging, for replying, for commenting and following, you mean the world. Enjoy x

↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down

You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now

Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. 

Even unconscious, the four words swam in your mind, unable to drown them out, their weight drowning you instead. 

You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. 

Neteyam knew then, clearer than ever, that something was wrong. This was all wrong. How was he in the forest? How were you here? How were you breathing this air? How were you so tall? When did they come back to the forest? Why was he always in between states of consciousness? What the hell was going on??

He pushed you off him and watched as you confusedly got up and try to shake off the nap with a wobble of your head. 

“What the hell, Neteyam?”

His gaze hardened taking you in, taking whoever or whatever you were in, and he spoke angrily.

“Who the hell are you?”

“What do you mean who the hell am I? I’m me.” 

“You can’t be you, because you’re human. You can’t be you because you’re as tall as a Na’vi girl and you’re breathing in our air. You haven’t been human in a long time. So who are you?”

He watched as you look at him intently, and your expression finally settled on a look of acknowledgement.

“Ah… you’re finally remembering.” 

Neteyam battled a splitting headache as he tried to make sense of something that didn’t make any sort of sense in his mind. 

“So, the memory of us in the marui, the morning of us waking up together, swimming, that is real?” 

Your brows furrowed at his words, and you looked like you were thinking hard about your next words. 

“I don’t know, Neteyam. It might have been real, it most likely was.” 

“How can you be you and not remember? Stop fucking playing with me. I’m tired of this, I just want to know the truth.”

Your temper rose quickly, clear as day on your face, just like it always was - you’ve never been able to keep it at bay. 

“I’m not playing with you, Neteyam! I can’t help you. I’m here for you, do you understand? You have to figure this out for yourself. I can’t say anything until you figure it out yourself.” 

Neteyam sighed deeply, closing his eyes tightly and bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the headache that felt like would break him in two if it kept going. Think, Neteyam. 

“Ok, then what can you tell me?”

“I’m here for you. It’s me. I’m just not… fuck. Not the me you know anymore.” 

You looked scared as you pushed the last words out, and looked around you for something to happen, darting your eyes to the sky and to the forest enveloping you both. Almost as on command, he felt the world disintegrate around him and his vision dulled, and he knew he was going to sleep again. Your voice screamed at him as you were being pulled from his grasp once more. Don’t leave, don’t leave me again.

“Think of everything that’s happened since you arrived, play it all back. Think of your dreams. Just think, Neteyam. I’m here for you.”

You didn’t know how much time passed when you woke up, but you saw that it was light, so it was at least a few hours. The morphine drip was empty, as you were, and so the pain was back full force, reminding you what you had and what you lost. You had a miscarriage.

You had been pregnant. Your mind fluttered to the pills you kept by your and Neteyam’s mat, the pills you completely forgot about since the return to the tulkun, since the night Neteyam came in you, since you begged him to. The death of Roa and her calf took your attention away the next morning, and then all hell broke loose. You didn’t even know how long it had been since then. A week? A bit more? A week…

There are full years in people’s lives, decades in which life is dull, boring and uneventful. Unwavering truths and comfortable routines, you knew very little of. Your life was always a storm, always chaotic, always moving. Your life was adapt or die always and still, still, there were moments, unfrequent moments where even that chaos was subdued and middling - that was your peace. But then when chaos came, it was a tornado. It was a hurricane ready to tear everything in its path apart. There were no half measures in your life. No little disasters. Only death, only mass destruction, only loss so grave it burned everything good to ashes on the ground.

“Just fucking admit you don’t want to have my kids. You don’t want a family.” 

“You know what? You are right. I don’t want a baby with you.”

You did this. You did it once more. You managed to ruin yet another thing in your life, like you couldn’t seem to be able to help yourself. Neteyam was in a coma because of you. Your dad was dead because of you. The baby you spitefully told Neteyam you didn’t want is gone, and you knew then even if Neteyam did come back, he would never forgive you for this. Because you put it out there, in the universe, in the wind, and Eywa heard you. And Eywa listened. 

You forcefully removed all the needles in your body and made your way slowly, painfully towards your mate’s still body, and felt blood pouring from within you. Every step hurt so badly it was splitting you in half, and you remembered the pain of the virus slowly taking over your body, slowly eating you from the inside out and it felt like greeting an old, familiar friend. You said a silent thank you to whomever dressed you in thick loincloths that absorbed all the liquid spilling out, and sat down slowly next to Neteyam. You could hear voices from the outside of the marui, your family, whispering away, low voices almost like a hum, almost like a song. 

“Neteyam…?” Crying came so easily to you recently it felt like second nature after all this time, so perpetual and constant, it felt like you spent more time doing it than not. 

“I’m not trying to rush you or anything… but now would be a really good time for you to wake up. Just… just please wake up.”  

“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry. I miss you so much, and I know you probably hate me, and I know you’ll probably hate me even more when you come back, and I am willing to accept it, I am willing to live my whole life earning your forgiveness, but I need you to be in it. I need you. Please, come back to me so I don’t feel so alone anymore.” 

What was that? 

A voice. Faint and echoed, barely there, but he heard it. Your voice. Your voice swimming in his subconscious, floating in his dormant mind, waking him up. 

“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry…”

“…I know you probably hate me…”

“…I need you…”

Another dream enveloped him masterfully, tugging at him until he woke up, in the ship again - that damned ship. A dream he’s had before, a nightmare, horrid and anguished. He braced himself for the pain he already knew was coming, for the terror he’s had to live through so many times now he knew its every beat by heart. The humans. The Avatars. The guns - theirs and his. The noise as the bullets left, the way his mind stopped for a split second every time he heard someone go down because of him, because of his shots. The guilt eating at him, mixed with the anger and rage he felt for his planet, for these monsters, the fear for his siblings, for you, the sick hope that this could all be over soon. He felt it all, he lived it all - over and over and over. The sharp sting as a bullet pierced his body, in one way, out the other. The uneven stream of consciousness. Your body, his family’s bodies, sprawled all over him as he gave his last breath. He saw it all. He lived it all.

He lived it all. Not a dream. A memory. 

A memory. His death was a memory.

You finally decided it was time to step into the light of the day outside your marui and face your family, although the thought of having to think about it, speak about it, watch them be sad about it close to made you pass out again. Regardless, you had to brave through it. You had to, because there was still a long road ahead. And you had a job to do now. You had to bury your dad, and then you had to go to the Spirit Tree. Everyone’s eyes shot up to your slow-moving figure as you approached them, a cocktail of emotions on their faces - from shock, to sadness, to curiosity and confusion, to grief, it was all the emotions you were feeling and didn’t want to anymore. 

Lo’ak hurried to your side and took an arm and plopped it on his shoulders as one of his hands found yours, and the other your midriff, holding you in place. 

“I got you, Angel.”

You smiled and looked at the side of his face and at the two beaded braids swinging with every step. “Thank you, brother.” 

Multiple hands reached out to help you sit down, and you convulsed in pain as your body made contact with the floor. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Norm’s hand didn’t let you go, stretching your arm to look at it and tsk-ing at you annoyedly when he saw small purple marks where you yanked your IV needles out of your arms. The back of his hand then moved to your forehead, trying to gauge your temperature. 

“Your fever’s down. How are you feeling?” 

You were slightly shy at the small crowd of people staring at you, clinging to your every word. You wanted to lie, to say you were fine, but you didn’t have it in you to deceive these people anymore. 

“I don’t know.” The tears that had stained your cheeks were long gone, but new ones weren’t far behind, as the weight of the past few days was slowly bearing down on you. 

“In a few days, I lost a dad, a mate and a baby I didn’t even know I had. I don’t know how I am.”

You felt Neytiri’s arm on your back, slowly patting it up and down in an effort to console you. If anyone got what you went through, you imagined it’s her. Still, you felt so alone. More alone than you’ve ever felt in this life or the last. Even at your lowest, even that horrible whole 17th year, even that couldn’t compare. Nothing could compare to the catastrophic wave that crushed you like a tsunami and kept you there, unable to get up, unable to come up for air. You had so many people around you, so much family, and yet you’ve never felt more isolated. 

Suddenly, you saw most of them get up and leave quietly, with only a slight tug of your shoulder or a kiss of your cheek or on the top of your head - all of them, except for Jake. He scooted over to where you were until his legs were parallel to yours and almost touching you. He looked at the water as he spoke.

“I thought you might want some peace and quiet.” 

You nodded softly. “Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I know there are no words, no words that could ever make this better, but I want you to know I am sorry.”

“Yeah… me too.” 

His gaze shifted to the marui, and you followed his gaze to Neteyam’s body, resting on his mat. 

“I miss him so much, kid.” 

“I think he’s going to hate me, if he ever comes back.” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke halfway through the sentence. 

Jake’s head snapped to you again, a confounded look on his face. 

“What are you saying, kid? Why would you say that? My son could never hate you.”

“He’ll hate me. I know he will.” 

Jake said nothing as he waited for you to continue. You cried softly as you tried to calm your mind by focusing on the fish swimming peacefully by your feet. 

“Before the ship, before Payakan, we got into a fight. A big fight, probably the biggest we’ve ever had. The message, the one on the tulkun… I knew what it meant. I lied to you, to all of you. It was a message from my dad to me. He told me to meet him and I did, I went by myself at night.”

You didn’t look at Jake as you spoke but you felt his whole body stiffen next to yours, and there was no more warmth radiating off of him. Your heart was racing in your chest as you registered the changes and how mad he probably was. 

“That’s when I forgave him… kind of. There was still so much unresolved, so much him and I still had to talk about. But when I came back, Neteyam was waiting for me. He was really mad, just like you are now. He… accused me of conspiring with the enemies, of putting him and your family in danger. He poured out all of his frustrations with me, including the one that hurt him most: that he felt I didn’t want a family with him. That I didn’t want his babies. I was so mad, so angry at how quickly he jumped the gun, how he always held so much in until it always exploded in my face, so I just told him that he was right. And that I don’t. And now I lost his baby. I lost his baby because of what I said, and he’s going to think it too and he’s never going to forgive me for it.” 

Silence fell in between you, heavy silence, so heavy you felt its weight bearing down on you and the cries turned to sobs, the only sounds that could be heard. 

“You know, kid, me and my family didn’t have the best relationship. A lot like your dad, I took to the military to get away from them all. Unlike your dad, though, I was the asshole. I was reckless and impulsive, and felt the constant need to prove myself. My brother, Tommy, he was the smart one. So smart, top of the class his whole life, valedictorian, model student. Got his PhD at 20, got the opportunity of a lifetime to come study on Pandora. A good kid, too. The perfect son, the perfect brother. I couldn’t stand it. The better he did, the worse I did. The more I wanted to prove how unlike him I was, how I was going to make my own path in life.” He scoffed at himself, at the memories of the past. 

“I did well, too. In the army. I was good. I gained independence and everything I ever wanted. But I pushed them all away. My mother, and father, and Tommy. I didn’t see them for years. When I lost my legs and had to be shipped back, I was all alone. My fault, my own doing. I knew it, all along, how wrong I was, that all these people ever did was love me - and Tommy’s biggest fault was being a kind and compassionate person, a good brother. When he died, I felt empty. The guilt came later, it came at night, on Pandora, as I felt like I got another chance at life, a life I literally took from him. It came when I got accepted into the Clan, when I fell in love with Neytiri. It comes now, when I see the rivalry between Lo’ak and Neteyam and I know I created it. I see it when I see that Lo’ak is just a carbon copy of myself and my mistakes, and the more I try to steer him away the more I turn him into me. And I see Tommy in Neteyam, every day.” 

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, baby girl. There is so much you’ve had to endure, and no person in the world, much less Neteyam, would be surprised all the pain and stress took its toll on your body. You lost so much, and you gave so much to make sure Neteyam lived, how could he ever blame you? How could he ever hate you?” 

“Throughout his whole life, both your lives, you have been Neteyam’s solace. His light, isn’t that what he calls you? I had to watch him lie to us and sneak out for years to come to you, no matter how much he inherited his distaste of humans from Neytiri, we still could never keep him away from that lab.” he chuckled to himself. “I had to watch him suffer for a year when he left, knowing there’s nothing I can do to help him - or you. I love my wife, I love her with my whole heart, more than I could love anything else, but the love you and Neteyam have, I’ve never seen anything like it as long as I have been alive. So I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Wait… you knew about Neteyam sneaking out at night?”

Jake rose his eyebrow at you. “D’you think we’re stupid, kid? I mean it didn’t click from the get go, he had good excuses for a while, but after a few months, we realised he didn’t just have to… what did he used to say…?” He thought about it for a second. His eyes widened and finger wagged in the air as he remember. “Ah, yes! Release himself… for a few hours every night, ha! We were worried and we punished him the first few times we caught him, but it didn’t matter. So when we asked Norm and he told us he was there, safe in your room, we let it go. Did he never tell you?”

“No… he never told me.” He wanted to protect you, he didn’t want you to know he was being punished for sneaking out to see you.

“Wait… Norm knew too?” You groaned at the thought, your little bubble of privacy bursting suddenly. 

“I know you like to think you’re the smartest person in the room, and you know what, kid? You are, but we’re not old, oblivious farts just yet.”

“Aw, pops. Never thought you were. Just thought we were being sneaky and getting away with it. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. The thing is, kid, neither you or Neteyam have ever really been children. And a lot of this is our fault… my fault. You were both forced to grow up much faster than you should have. You’ve both always known your own minds and hearts very well, and we knew quite soon you were inseparable. Keeping you two apart would have been as easy as parting mountains, so eventually we just let you be.”

You smiled a little at Jake’s confession, and sighed deeply as soon as you thought about Neteyam again. About the horrible circumstances that led to this conversation.

“What if I won’t be able to have children again? What if this was my only chance? Our only chance?” 

He laughed a little and took you in his arms, and your head was now in his chest, crying quietly. 

“I wouldn’t stress about that, kid. I think between the two of us, me and Neteyam will be able to coach our own football team soon.”

“Ew, gross.” 

He laughed some more, a real dad laugh, and you did too, surprised that he somehow managed to elevate your mood. 

Later, in the tent, the two middle siblings rejoined you as you were being checked by Norm and Max. You felt uncomfortable talking about this around so many people, your siblings, but you also wanted to be open, wanted to share in your pain and burdens, as you knew they wanted you to. You’ve kept to yourself your whole life, and this grief, the grief of losing Neteyam, of losing a baby that would have been their little niece or nephew, that you knew they would have adored and cared for every day of its life, you all had to suffer through together. So you allowed them to stay. 

“How is the bleeding?” 

“It’s manageable. Almost like a heavy period, I think?” 

“That’s good. Let us know if it becomes worse, alright?” He eyed you intently. “Do you hear me, Ace? You can’t do what you always do, this is serious. You have to tell us.”

“I will tell you. I promise.” 

“Good. Now, you have options. You can wait for it to pass naturally, or we can give you pills for it, but that will mean taking the helo back to the forest, we don’t have the pills with us.” 

“I’ll wait.”

“…Alright. You will be bleeding for up to three weeks. Physical recovery from a miscarriage can take up to 2 months. That means no swimming, Ace.”

You shook your head. 

“Ace…”

“Angel, you have to listen to them. You can’t put your health at risk anymore.”

“Zip it, Lo’ak. You of all people cannot give me a lecture on putting my health at risk.”

Kiri scoffed in Lo’ak direction, but turned to you, a stern look on her face. 

“My stupid brother has a point. You have to stay here.”

“No, I have to bury my dad. And there’s one more thing I need to do. And then I’ll rest, I promise. No exercise for as long as you want, promise.” 

“What else do you need to do?” 

Your eyes flickered in between Lo’ak and Kiri, as well as the two scientists who all eyed you keenly. You wanted to tell them, wanted to so badly - deadly afraid of more secrets, more things to keep hidden deep in your soul until they burst out of you inevitably, leaving damage in their wake. But the thought of giving them false hope, the thought of seeing their spirit reborn as they hear Neteyam might be alright, might be within reach in Eywa, only to have it be taken away once more, killed you. It tortured you, it haunted you. You’ve spent your whole life having parts of your soul stripped away a piece at a time, so many years of being emptied out with every blow until you were a hollow shell of your former self - you were built for this. They weren’t. They had a life to live, a future to experience - endless adventures and happiness that you would make sure to protect and honour as much as you could. Because that’s what Neteyam did. Because that’s what siblings do.

At the same time, another thought, a worse thought gnawed at you - what if Neteyam was alright, what if you could bring him back, and you allowed his family to think of the worst, to assume their son, their sibling, their hero might never return to them? To make them stew in the pain that took so much from you, that gutted you and took your breath away, the pain that alleviated a little as soon as you chatted with Norm, it was cruel. It was winless fight, a lose-lose situation. But you knew if it was you, you’d want to know.

They deserve to know. They deserve the respect of being thought of as strong enough to handle themselves and the situations presented to them. They weren’t kids anymore. And they were never just any kids anyway. They were the kids of the Toruk Makto, of Palulukan Makto, of one of the greatest scientists that ever lived. They were Omatikaya kids, forced in fire. They had withstood wars and trials most people can’t even imagine. They were strong, and capable. You watched them grow up, you were there to watch them and love them, and now it was time to trust them. 

“OK… Norm, can you stop that for a second? I need to talk to all of you.” Everyone was so focused on you, it was making you nervous. Thinking of Tsireya’s swimming lessons, you took a deep breath in and breathed out slowly, carefully, trying to imagine flickering a flame. You felt your heartbeat slow down in you chest and when it was normal again, you spoke. 

“Before we were about to leave for my dad’s funeral, before… everything happened, Norm showed me something strange happening in Neteyam’s brain. A seizure.” Your eyes settled on Kiri. “A seizure like the one you went through at the Spirit Tree.” Kiri gasped slowly and took your arm, squeezing gently. 

“That means…”

She’s always been quick, you thought proudly. “Yes. I think that Neteyam’s in Eywa. I think the seizures are visions… like the ones I got when I died. Now, I don’t want to raise your hopes up. I don’t know if it’s true. I don’t know anything. All I know is, it’s worth a try. So I will go and plug into the Spirit Tree after the funeral and try to find him and bring him back.”

“I want to come. I can help.” 

You have to admit that you thought about it. You wanted Kiri to come with, her deep and unexplainable connection wit Eywa a possible advantage in your endeavour, but your mind flickered to her seizure, Max’s words ringing painfully in your ears. “If she seizes underwater again, it could kill her.”

Norm beat you to it. “Kiri, I don’t think you should plug into the Spirit Tree underwater anymore.” 

“Look, I can do this.” She sighed, and looked at her fidgety fingers. “During the ship attack… I killed people.” 

The same expression was mirrored in the faces all around you, deep concern and shock clearly visible in your eyes. “What?”

“I connected to some plants underwater and I… I used them to kill humans. I controlled them with my mind. Then I did it again when I was able to control glowing fish to find mum and Tuk in the ship. Something’s changed, guys. I can feel her, her power coursing through my veins. I can help. I can get us to Neteyam.”

Although taken aback, Kiri’s powers came with little surprise to you. You’ve guessed all along she had a bigger role to play than anyone could have ever foreseen, but to see her come into her own and discover them slowly, to watch it unfold, it was magical. 

“A bleeding mess and a seizing mess, going together to revive our protective, loving, neurotic mess. How can this possibly go wrong?” You rolled your eyes, but were secretly happy you didn’t have to do this by yourself, that you had your sister to rely on. 

Neteyam was gasping so loudly, panting violently as the memory faded. His eyes were unfocused and his lungs were on fire, and his hand shot to his chest at the pain that shot through him, feeling for a wound that wasn’t there, for blood that refused to spill. He patted himself and looked at his hand, and there was nothing. Nothing.

“You’re here for me.”

“You’re here for me.”

Neteyam’s whole body froze, eyes fixed on your own wide ones, just waiting to see the words that will come out of his mouth. 

“I’m dead… I’m dead, aren’t I?” 

Your eyes softened and then closed, taking a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly through your mouth. You nodded meekly. The tears that formed in your eyes only angered Neteyam, who felt his blood heating up in his veins until they bubbled, threatening to spill outside his body. 

“I am dead and you have been toying with me, playing mind games and singing songs for Eywa knows how long?! What the fuck is wrong with you? Who even are you?” 

You winced at his harsh words, the movement allowing for your tears to fall freely down you face. 

“I couldn’t tell you, Neteyam. I’m not allowed to tell you. The last time I saw you, when you came to the Spirit Tree, I said too much and was immediately pushed out of your vision. Every time I said anything ever since you came back, you fell back into a liminal state of being and I was taken away.”

Neteyam’s head was spinning, world moving chaotically around him and he felt the need to sit, to ground himself to what he knew. He lowered his body next to the river bank, and allowed the water to rush over his calves, the murmuring sounds and rushing stream calming his nerves and heart. He didn’t look at you.

“Now that I remembered, can you just tell me?” 

He heard your footsteps approaching behind him and you found a place on the floor next to him, one leg in the river while the other was bent at the knee, propped against his thigh. He saw your eyes tracing his side profile in his periphery and turned to face you, your beauty so overwhelming it made him ache. Seeing you with his memory intact, seeing you human for the first time in a year, your eyes and hair, your soft skin and beauty marks, your nose, your lips, it brought back feelings in him that he didn’t realise he even had. So much sadness for this you he’d lost, that he thought he’d lost forever, so much yearning to feel you, feel your much colder body, your more defined curves, your scent. So many memories of the girl he grew up with, so tiny and vulnerable, so fiery and wild, so sad and wise beyond her years, memories of the forest, his own upbringing, his own life. You were like a walking, talking reminder of the past, a past he loved, a past of joy, and love and adventures, of hope and childhood. A past long gone.

“Who are you? How is it possible that you are here? You are alive.” 

You looked towards the river and sighed, thinking before you spoke. 

“I’m me. I just don’t think I’m the same me as the one currently alive. I think when I did the consciousness transfer, a part of me, the human part of me, stayed behind. I’ve been here, in this forest, for a long time. I was so confused, for so long. I was just here, in this clearing, all alone.

And then one day, I got this dream. This horrible nightmare. I saw you, on a ship. I saw you fighting with Spider and Lo’ak, fighting humans and… blue men, like Avatars? I saw you getting shot. I saw you getting pulled to a rock. I saw you die, I saw myself losing everything in an instant.

Over time, I’d see glimpses. Of you, and your life. Of me. I saw the love, and the fights. I saw the late night ikran rides, and the passion so wild it could light the whole forest on fire. I saw your frustrations, and my own, grow in size. I saw us leaving, I saw us dreaming - for a future, a better one. One where we’d get to be free.

And then one day… you came. And I was so happy to see you again. And so scared. But I knew then that that’s why I’m here. That’s my purpose. My purpose here is you. I am here to be your light. To guide you. I just don’t know if I’m supposed to be guiding you back home or in the afterlife.”

Neteyam’s skin was littered with goosebumps at your words, at their implication, at knowing even in his afterlife, it was just you and him. You were his light, since the moment you were born and for the rest of eternity. He turned to fully face you, his pose mirroring your own now, and he took your face gently in both his hands, and wiped the tears from your warm cheeks with his thumbs. His face lowered to yours and your foreheads touched, the proximity almost unbearable in the feelings it invoked in him. He breathed you in and noted how unlike your Avatar body, you still smelled like the snapshots of the lab and of human concoctions you called perfume, sweet and mellow, and so, so familiar. You stood like that, motionless in this moment he didn’t want to ever end. If this was death, he was happy to oblige it, happy to indulge in it for the rest of time. 

 “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you’re here, that just like we talked about when we were 8, this is our heaven. That we can be in here together.” 

“Neteyam… you can still go back. You can still choose to live.” 

Neteyam removed his forehead from yours and looked at your eyes, sad and willing him to listen, to hear you out. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and you started caressing up and down his forearm in a consoling motion. 

“What?”

“I had a choice. And so do you. I was so scared when I first saw you, but so relieved at the same time. I have been alone for so long, and you are the only one, the only one I ever wanted to see again. But I knew that if I were to ever see you again, that would mean my dream came true. And that scared me. That terrified me more than anything else. And if not seeing you again, being alone for all eternity was what it took for you to live, then I was happy with that. So I warned you, the best I could, but I was pulled out of the vision, and so were you. I realised then there are rules to this.

You have a choice to make, Neteyam, just like I did. No one can change that, no one can alter it. It has to come from you. You had to be able to remember you died, to remember what brought you here if you were to make that choice, and I couldn’t help you get there. Eywa doesn’t take sides.” 

Neteyam was brought to a standstill. It was overwhelming, everything happening to him, everything he was going through and his mind finally remembered you, the real you, and his family that he left behind when he died. He felt so sick, so selfish having it just dawned on him that this didn’t just concern him. And although he had you, even in this life, you - the real you didn’t have him anymore. His parents, his siblings - they didn’t have him anymore. 

“Can you see…? You said you get glimpses… of my life, of your life. Please tell me you’re ok. Please tell me my family is ok.” 

You looked sad, so sad. Your lips pursed in a tight line and you shook your head slowly. 

“Were you ok when I died?” 

The immediate pain that he always felt as soon as he remembers the moment you gave your last breath in that lab, the power it still held over him even so long after, even whilst holding you taut against his body and feeling your strong heartbeat and looking into your eyes, that shimmered like the night sky, almost knocked him straight to the ground in agony. 

“I had a choice. And so do you.” A choice. A choice between life and death. Between the future and the past. Between the ocean and the forest. Between his kids that he’s always dreamt of having, and the possibility of you never wanting your own. The choice between a happy afterlife or a scary, death-filled future.

“Did you know? When it happened to you?” 

“Yes… I did.”

“You said you saw auntie Jo when you died. You said you saw Earth, and her old house. Why am I here?” 

You smiled warmly up at him, tears making a temporary home in the two dimples on the side of your mouth. 

“I think we go where we most want to go. I think we see what we longed for the most in life. The closer I got to dying, the more I needed my mum. I wanted to see her again, I wanted to see what her life was like, before me, before all of this. There was so much trauma I had because of her death, and it was the thing that my soul yearned for the most, I think. Just one last chance to hear her voice. For you… it’s this forest. What you wanted the most was to go home. And you wanted a family. You got to see the family we would have had that you envisioned when I was still human. Back before the Sky People returned, back before everything became complicated and messy. Back in the past, where our biggest concern was that we loved each other too much - too much for a human and a Na’vi.”

Neteyam thought long and hard about the situation he faced - that he found himself in. This choice, it was tugging at his heart painfully, it was tearing him apart. He thought it would be simple. It should be simple. Life or death, right? It’s as simple as it gets. Except death had everything he’s ever wanted and none of the things he didn’t want, none of the insecurities, and the pain and the fear, none of the uncertainty or the fights, none of the terror of thinking he might lose his family, he might lose you. None of the responsibilities, none of forsaken dreams, none of the forgotten plans. Death had you, the you he fell in love with, the you that he grew up with, the you that was ever-present in most of his most precious memories. Death had the kids, his kids, his perfect kids and the forest. It had this clearing, and happiness, and joy. It had peace. 

He didn’t realise he was hyperventilating, tears blurring his vision until he felt your hand on his chest, over his heart, your touch bringing him much needed solace. 

“Why is this so hard? Why does my heart hurt so badly?”

“I think it’s hard because you know deep in your heart what you want. You know what you want to do, and thinking about the consequences hurts you. But you have to say it, Neteyam. You have to acknowledge it.” 

He didn’t think he could say it, could bring himself to admit it out loud. But he had to. He owed himself that, and the people waiting for him to come back. 

“I don’t know if I want to go back.” 

Right before eclipse, Jake and Neytiri returned to your tent, and with a deep sigh, you adjusted your clothes you have been wearing since before you passed out, and felt ready to finally do this. 

“It’s time, baby girl.”

You nodded softly and felt grateful for your family, which was surrounding you on all sides, holding your hands and shoulders, making sure you knew and felt their presence and their support - both of which you needed desperately, especially now. You all got on ilu and started making your way in silence towards the Cove of the Ancestors. It would be your first time seeing it; you tried to suppress the wince that was threatening to escape you at the memory of the fight that ensued after you chose spending time with Lo’ak over coming to this place the first time, with your mate. What you wouldn’t give for those fights now, for any opportunity to see him and hear his voice ring in your ears. 

As you entered underneath a few columns, you were speechless at the beauty, the indescribable beauty displayed for your eyes to see. Floating islands, and zenith arches stood tall and mighty as the underwater nature illuminated the cove brightly in kaleidoscopic hues. It was breathtaking, it was beyond your wildest dreams. Neteyam was right to be upset. You would have given anything to see this with him, and hated yourself a little at denying you both this once-in-a-lifetime chance. 

The whole of the Metkayina clan was waiting for you, solemn and dignified, dressed in mournful garbs and intricate jewellery adorning their beautiful cyan bodies. Your dad was placed in a floating enclosure, filled with sea water and flowers, and emotion bubbled in your chest at his sight. Ronal, Tonowari and their two children looked at you and your family, and you greeted them in the Na’vi way, trying to pour every ounce of gratitude seeded in your soul to them, for the way they took your dad in, for the way they were offering him eternity in Eywa. I see you.

You took him and moved him slowly away from the crowd from the back of your ilu, and you made your way to the place you knew you would have to give him to the sea forever. His new forever home, where he could finally be free - free of burden, free of guilt, free of the world that took so much from him. Once you reached, you dismounted and saw with slight surprise as Jake did the same. You put your hands on your dad and he put his hands on yours, squeezing them gently. 

“I got you, kid.” 

You let out a soft sob at the gesture, feeling an outpouring of love for this man who was the only father figure you’ve ever known, the only father you had left, who stepped in at a time you were close to falling apart and helped you heal, and helped you where no one else could. With a small nod and a deep breath in, you submerged and slowly took your dad with you, to the seabed covered in yellow anemone. With one last goodbye and tears that got lost in the water all around you, you let him go, and watched as he was slowly engulfed in them, where he will rest for now, where he will rest for life. 

Goodbye, dad. We’ll meet each other again, one day, and then, we’ll be able to finally be a family. 

Gideon woke up in a bed, a bed he didn’t recognise initially. It had been so long since he’s been in this room, in this place. The realisation came from all around him, from the sound of songs he’s heard a million times before playing softly in the background, from the smell of a specific type of laundry detergent his nose was incredibly familiar with, from the cracks in the ceiling that Gideon memorised by heart in time. 

“Up and at ‘em, sleepy head.”

The pressure of a small body tucked against him finally registered in his mind, and the voice brought clarity to everything, to his whole life and his whole existence. His eyes dropped to the ones already looking at him, playful and curious, and oh, oh so beautiful. The shock shot through his whole body, electrifying every inch of him, every part of his brain, waking him up like from a death sleep and into a weightless consciousness, fully alert to her, and only her. 

“Marj?”

“I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d see you again.” 

“I don’t understand, Jo. Is this heaven?”

“It is now. Welcome home, my love.” 

Once the funeral was over, the Metkayina slowly started making their way back to their village, as did your family.

“Will you be ok, kid?” 

“Yes. I just want to see something at the Tree of Souls, if that’s ok.” 

You looked fixedly at Lo’ak and Kiri, who nodded slowly, and you knew the plan was in motion. 

“Ok, we will go back. We will see you back home. Don’t stay out late, you shouldn’t be swimming anyhow.” 

“Will do. I’ll have Kiri and Lo’ak to keep me safe, just in case.”

Jake looked pointedly at Lo’ak. “Keep her safe. Safe. Do you understand?”

“Lima Charlie.”

The Metkayina Spirit Tree was a sight to behold, and even despite the pain and hurt, you were in awe of its majestic beauty. It was unlike anything you have ever seen before, and you were saddened at the thought your dad never got to see it. Your mum never got to see it. You think they would have loved it, revelled in it as much as you were, as much as you knew Neteyam did. You swam down until you reached one of the many leaves glowing brightly around you, and with a last look at Lo’ak, who was waiting for you on the surface, you held Kiri’s hand as you brought your queue forward. 

“Remember. Think of him, as hard as you can. Think of where he could be.” Kiri signed to you before always reaching for her queue and, when you nodded, you both connected to the same leaf, almost overlapping each other. Air flooded your lungs, giving you breath as if from an oxygen pack, and as your eyes closed, you felt your soul transported through planes of existence, to the one you’ve been before, to the one Neteyam was. You knew where he’d be, there was no doubt in your mind that you’d find him in your clearing, in the forest, where you both said you’d spend the rest of eternity when eternity came and knocked on your door. 

Sure enough, the sounds and smells and sights of the Omatikaya forest came sharply into focus, and your heart boomed in your chest taking it all in, taking home in. You knew where you were, not quite in the clearing yet, but close. Kiri’s hand tightened in yours as she joined you, and you saw her looking around, adjusting to the new environment. 

“We’re… back home.”

You smiled and nodded. “This is where Neteyam and I decided our heaven would be when we were 8 years old. This is where we knew we’d always be, arrested in time, just him and I, together forever. We knew, even back then.” You pointed in the direction you needed to go. “It’s just beyond these trees.” 

You let go of her hand and went in front of her, leading the way. As you stepped into the meadow, you were blinded by the rays of sun which blessed it and by your own tears at this place that meant so much, that you never thought you’d see again before your death. 

You let out a loud gasp when your vision cleared and in it stood Neteyam, eyes closed as he was sprawled on the ground, a look of peaceful meditation on his face. You ran panting until you reached him, kneeling by his body and grabbing his face in both your hands, having to fight the urge to shake him wildly, shake him awake, shake him alive again. You tried to calm your breath and your heartbeat to no avail, no Metkayina trick in the book able to help you this time, not when you were right, not when he was here, not when you were one step closer to getting him back. You faintly heard Kiri crying softly, sounds muffled by your own mind blocking anything out that wasn’t him. 

“Neteyam…?” You caressed his face gently, allowing your fingers to wonder all over it, feeling the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft swell of his lips, his eyelashes, the defined curve of his cheekbones. You touched his braids, those wild braids that mesmerised you, their liveliness and swing always putting you in a hypnotic trance, focusing your world on him and only him. You touched his ears, that twitched slightly under your touch and your eyebrows shot up in wonder and the movement, the only movement you’ve seen in him for days. 

“Neteyam… please wake up. I’m here, we’re here. We’re here to take you home. Please.” 

His eyes fluttered open and with it so did your chest and it felt like your ribcage was split apart in two and the animal that was trapped in it, thrashing and screaming, kicking at the bars, desperate for release, flew away, leaving you a sobbing mess on his chest, gripping onto him like it was the first time you have ever seen him, like he was your heart’s most sought after desire and any hesitation on your part would mean losing him forever. He was, he always has been - your most sought after desire, your reason for existing. 

Your voice brought him out of another dream, memories of the past fluttering past his mind’s eye and settling on nights in the forest, swimming in the pond, running his fingers through your hair, kissing you until he ran out of breath, claiming your body until you were both so spent you didn’t know how you’d make it back home in the morning. He heard you sharing your deepest fantasies and secrets while you patiently redid his braids, spilling promises of love forever, of adoration and gratitude, for each moment you got to be in each other’s embrace, for every night you got to make up for the ones you lost; anecdotes about your time apart and how much you missed each other after all. Recalling times and feelings and musing at how despite how everything’s changed around you - you two haven’t, not to each other, not in any way that matters. You were still each other’s homes, just like you have been since the moment you were born.

His mind quieted when his eyes took you in, not the you he expected to see at all, but a blue you, beautifully striped, and kneeling next to him, face buried in his chest. He shifted his gaze somewhere behind you, and another shock rocked his system at the sight of his baby sister, crying silently, hand covering her mouth to stop the sounds threatening to spill out. His arms wrapped tightly around you and his hands caressed your hair gently and he couldn’t believe the relief that washed over him as you scent overwhelmed him, as your presence drowned everything else in this world but you. You found him. He realised then you were there to guide him home. No matter what path he would choose, stay here or go back, one of you would be there to lead the way, to show him the light - to be the light.

“Hi.”

Your eyes shot up to his face, wide and puffy, red and saturated in tears and his thumb settled over your quivering lips, stuck in this moment with you, trapped in the unmatched beauty of your gaze, by all the love and pain clearly on the surface, by everything else hidden in its depths.

“Hi! Hi, hi, hi! Oh my God, hi! I found you. I really found you.” 

Your hands made their way around his neck and your face found its place on a part of his body that felt like it was carved for that purpose alone. This way, he was able to focus on the form staring at you two, sitting on the far side of the clearing, away from view. Neteyam heard his sister’s breath get knocked out of her lungs and when she found her voice, a small squeal came out. 

“Um, ok…this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.” 

“Ouch, Kiri. None taken.”

Neteyam felt you stiffen in his arms, as the voice speaking registered in your ears. You removed your body from him and looked at him with deep fear displayed clearly on your features. Your raised eyebrows dropped a little as he gave you a small smile, tightening his grip on your forearm. 

“I think there’s someone you should meet.” 

With shallow breaths and widened eyes, you turned around and wrapped your hand around your mate and squeezed as you assimilated the image unfolding in front of your eyes. It was… you. Your mind flashed to the day you first saw your Avatar body, and how weird it felt, seeing yourself like that, almost like an out-of-body experience. The memory shifted to seeing yourself as a weak, meek human after the consciousness transfer, the first time in your life seeing your human body from outside itself, thinking about how few humans, how few beings are able to ever experience this feeling, this insane, supernatural occurrence. Your mind finally settled on the present, at the girl you knew too well, the body you hated for so long, the body you missed as you had to let it go and were disappointed you couldn’t meet her warm smile with anything other than a grimace. 

“How…?” 

You got up and made your way carefully to her… to you… until you were face to face. She looked so different to what you always thought you looked like when you inhabited this body. She was… more beautiful than you ever thought. What made her… you… beautiful was the spark in your eye as they fixated on something you found interesting - in this particular case, your new blue body -, the way your nose crinkled a little while you smiled, the way two dimples formed in your cheeks that were rosy and full and…alive. Your curiosity got the better of you and almost involuntarily, you raised a hand and poked the human version of yourself staring at you with a finger. 

“How are you here?”

She chuckled a little. “Let’s just say I’m your ghost of Christmas Past.” 

The human you smiled at your confused guise. She playfully slapped your hand away and bend her head a little to look past you, at Neteyam. 

“I can be a bit annoying sometimes, can’t I?”

“Hey!” 

There was laughter all around you as both Neteyam and Kiri found human you a tad funnier at the moment than you would have liked.

“And I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, can’t I?” 

Neteyam’s body immediately resolved any annoyance building up in you as he got close to you, and the way his proximity made you feel, the way you got to feel it - feel him - again, was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t believe he was here. Couldn’t believe he was awake, and alive, and touching you like he did, in the way he did that drove you crazy, that sent shivers down every inch of your being. You couldn’t believe you got to feel this way again, couldn’t believe you’d have a lifetime to make up for all the mistakes you made, to make up for the time you were forced apart yet again.

“You’re my pain in the ass.” You turned around to face him, eyebrow raised and he groaned lowly.

“I had a choice. And so do you.” A choice. A choice between seeing his siblings grow up and being there to love them and guide them or only glimpses of the future. A choice between growing old with you, getting to love you and evolve together, as you have all your life or clinging to the past. A choice between seeing his parents be grandparents, pass on their knowledge and experience or never seeing them again. A choice between claiming back his home, fighting for his people or cowering in a fantasy for the rest of time. A choice between seeing what his real kids, your real kids would look like, who they would grow up to be, and being there to witness every single day or glimpses of his past desires manifested like a storybook. A choice between life or death. Between the future or the past. As he looked into your amber eyes, soft and glimmering like the night sky, he knew there was only one answer. 

He kissed you, with all his might, and felt light pour out of every corner of his being at the contact. You. The real you. The only you. He couldn’t believe how blind he’d been, blinded by his fears and insecurities, blinded by the incertitude of a unknown future, desperate to cling to a version of his world that was comfortable and familiar, a version of a life he’d dreamt when he was just a boy. He loved you so much, every part of you, every side of you, every body you inhabited because it didn’t matter if you were human or Na’vi, as long as he got to brave the world with you next to him.

“Let’s go home, Atan.” 

Your cries filled the forest, happy tears sliding over his fingers as he held your face tightly in his hands. You couldn’t help the sobs that escaped you, couldn’t help the way you clung onto him like you would never ever let him go again. You didn’t think you would. You knew your fingers must hurt his arms with how hard you were digging into them, but you couldn’t care, not when the thought of letting go ripped apart your insides like an angry rabid animal. 

“Neteyam… Neteyam…” 

“Come on. I want to hold you in my arms for real, I want to see your face back home. Let’s go, Atan.” 

He continued to caress your cheeks to remove the tears that wouldn’t stop, and when he realised you didn’t want to budge, he eventually pulled you into a hug that you both needed, that you needed more than life itself. You stood like that until your legs hurt, and when you fell slowly to the ground, he followed, not breaking the embrace - not for anything in this world or the next, not for any world. You sat on the ground, legs intertwined, flush against his chest until the forest started to slowly fade away from view. 

“It’s time to go.” You heard Kiri’s calm, deep voice suppressed by the sound of your cries and shallow breaths. 

You removed your head form his chest and pulled his face down to look at it. 

“I’ll see you at home? In the marui? I’ll just come and you’ll be there?” 

“I’ll be there. I promise. You will never get rid of me again. Deal?” 

A half-sob, half-laugh made its way of your mouth, but you exhaled a sigh of relief as you spoke. “Deal, yawne.” 

Neteyam felt anguished as he turned around to face your human astral projection, but as his fingers wrapped tightly around your own striped ones, he knew that the past is nothing compared to all he has to look forward to with you by his side. More and more of the world was slowly fading from view, and Neteyam knew it was time to say goodbye - forever, this time. 

“What will happen to you now?”

“I’m not sure. Now I have guided you, I don’t know what my purpose is.”

“I will miss you so much.”

“I will miss you, too. So much, you will never be able to know. But I still have you, I can still see you, in glimpses of the world you live in. And you still have me.” You nodded in the direction of your Avatar body. “A little bluer, a little taller, but definitely an improved version of myself.” 

“And one day, hopefully a really, really long time from now, you will see me again. Neteyam, I have always been your light, but you have always been my rock. You have always been what has grounded me, kept me going. And I know real life is not as beautiful, or whimsical, or perfect as this world right here. But it’s real. And in it, I will continue to be your light, and you will continue to be her…my rock. And whatever else comes, we’ll always brave it together. Just like we have all of our lives.” 

Neteyam watched as you turned your attention to the other you, the real you. 

“I know you are scared. You are so scared it hurts, it keeps you up at night. But don’t be so scared of the world you forget to live in it, you forget to revel in it. That you forget what really matters. There’s always going to be reasons to say no, always going to be reasons to push back, to postpone, and the truth is no moment will ever be perfect, but this world… it takes so much, it takes so fast, and when it does, what would you want to remember of it? What would you want to flash before your eyes before you go? I know what it is, because I am you. So just do it. Let yourself be vulnerable, once in your life. And see what comes of it.”

You both looked at each other, looked at yourselves, so different but yet the same, a mirror to the past and the present, of what you’ve been through and what you managed to accomplish, who you managed to become. You closed the gap and wrapped each other in a hug. A bear hug, a hug you both needed. 

“Thank you. For keeping the past in here, for taking it so I can keep going. Thank you for everything, for guiding him home. For bringing him back to me.” 

“I’m proud of you. Mum would be proud of you.” 

You let go, tears swimming in your eyes, and with a small smile, Neteyam watched you turn around and make your way towards the light, your own light. 

Your hand found Neteyam’s and your amber eyes found each other, and you couldn’t believe it still - that he was here, that he was still here, still yours. You had so much to say, so much to talk to him about, so much to apologise for, but you couldn’t, as your thoughts and words were interrupted by a scene unfolding in front of you. You followed two figures, ethereal and beautiful, emanating glow and light all around them, appear in front of human you, of past you. You inhaled loudly when the realisation hit, the stunned realisation that those were your parents. Your mum and dad, holding hands and smiling widely towards you. 

“We’re here for you, my child. We can go home. We can finally be a family. I missed you so much, bunny.” 

Tears were falling freely down your face, seeing a vision you have dreamt about your whole life, you have wished for in your deepest fantasies, in all your best, most out-of-reach dreams, and you felt at peace, for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time in your life, knowing that Heaven was real, and in it, so was your family.

Come, my darling, homeward bound

When all is lost, then all is found

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

#neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #avatar loak #jake sully #dilf jake sully #sully!reader #sully family x reader #sully family x sully!reader #neteyam avatar #avatar fanfiction

[mirkysconcubinefiction]

Affair

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Stuff: Angst - Short - Betrayal - Toxic Family - Miscarriage Mentioned - Tears.

Y/N subbed for ****

Summary: He had cheated and life isn't fair but time will do you justice.

The table was long, polished, and took up much of the space of the Manhattan high-rise office. Neutral ground for you and your hus- Ex would end the charade of a marriage after 3 months of matrimony.

Three months.

Four years strung along like a love-sick puppy and it took a marriage and a miscarriage to show you how horrible your choice in men was. A tale older than time - money, status, affairs, you were living the American dream and poof all gone.

It wasn't the nanny, the secretary, it wasn't a prostitute, nope, it had been your sister.

Your sister.

You'd like to say you were surprised but you weren't. Hell, even your parents had cut you off until you forgave her.... to keep the peace... once again the favorite child wins.

You'd thought you had won.

A faithful and dedicated man who was there with you at your lowest after going No Contact with family and the loss of your first and only child.

Yet here you sat.

You had made sure to dress impeccably with your finest jewelry that glittered under the natural light of the windows, you'd even gotten extensions and a stylist to pin-up your hair and makeup so you could sit in a chair like a warrior.

Only now as time ticked and the drone of voices of both your attorneys filled the silence you didn't feel like that strong and confident woman from when you had walked in. Tear tracks ruined the part you wanted so much to believe in.

Weak.

Pitiful.

Squaring your shoulders you told yourself crying was ok. You could cry because mourning allowed you to heal and you would be in a better position.

"My client wants nothing."

It had been an unnecessary ongoing battle. You didn't want one cent of alimony, not one square inch of property, you didn't want a thread of fabric from the closets you had left behind, no gem or trinket gifted to you.

Nothing.

Nada.

You deserved it all though. Every dollar in the joint account belonged to you. You'd help build the Barnes Empire from the ground up, it had been first in your name and love had blinded you.

It was your penance for being stupid but it also ensured that James Buchanan Barnes was out of your life for good - you didn't want anything from the bastard. Nothing that he had touched and breathed on.

Your degree was good enough - you told yourself.

"Doll..." he tries but your attorney was there to cut him off.

"You agreed to the rule James."

"Steve come on!"

Before this fiasco Steve had been the best friend to your husband - he was set to be your unborn babies godfather had it survived - but Steve had taken you on at no cost. Maybe it was to assuage his own guilt?

Steve had known.

Your parents had known.

The neighbors had known.

The house staff had known.

Everyone fucking knew except you.

A fresh wave of tears fell and your lower lip trembled. It hurt to hold it in. You wanted to rage and scream and topple the table over.

"Doll. Look at me."

"James! I will call this meeting to an end."

"No! Look at me ****."

You don't.

"That's it..." Steve stands causing the others to stand leaving you the only one sitting looking pathetic and heartbroken.

Broken, hurt, depressed.

"Meeting is over. We'll reschedule and Ms. **** will not be present."

"This isn't over. We're not over." Bucky's hand smacks the table top. "****!"

There's so much you want to say. Should say. Your chair rolls back and you stand with your purse secured at your side. Without a word you make it out of the room and ignore the commotion of your ex husband running in Steve as the other man keeps him from you.

Your silence is all you had.

Ever since you walked in on him and your sister you hadn't spoken a word to the man. Bucky hated to be ignored, he hated the silent treatment, in public you act as if he never existed, you pretend the last four years and three months had never happened.

Back before you met him.

You moved in with a dear friend and took public transportation as you hopped around the city looking for work as you decided what to do with your life.

Making it on the elevator you ignore the eyes on you and the shouts that are cut off when the door closes. The ride down is quiet and hailing a cab you remove your jewelry one by one and drop them in your purse.

Eventually you would have to pawn them if you did decide to leave New York. That was a thought for another day. Pulling out some face wipes and a hand mirror you wiped away the ruined makeup and staring into your reflection you knew time was your friend.

Once your divorce was final then you'd deal with your sister. Once the dust settles she will pay, with her life.

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #female reader #cheating #angst #Affair Fiction #affair #betrayal #toxic family #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #y/n #dark #short fiction #drabble #fanfic

[rowyn-writes]

Mending A Broken Heart (Jared x Reader)

Warnings: SMUT, breeding kink, unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it, kids,) oral sex, female receiving, slight praise kink, angst, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of non-con, mentions of cheating, reader has PCOS, fluff, strong language.

Pairings: Jared x Reader

Characters: Jared, Jensen, Danneel, JJ Ackles, Misha (mentioned only)

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You get a call from you older sister, Danneel, saying that she is in labor. When you arrive, your first niece is being born. You call your soon to be husband to inform him of JJ's birth, only to have a woman answer his phone.

You were on a mission.

You walked with purpose through the hallways of the hospital, not even stopping when a nurse asked if you needed help. You were Y/N Graul. You didn't need help to find your sisters freaking room.

"Ackles." You said, approaching two men. "Padalecki. How's my sister?" Just as the words left your mouth, you heard an ear piercing scream. "That answers that question." You pushed past them and into Danneel's delivery room.

"Ma'am, you can't be in here!" The doctor ordered.

"She's my sister." Danneel waved her off. "She can be here." The mother to be let out another groan of pain. You grabbed her hand, letting Danneel use it to relieve some of her pain. You winced slightly. Your sister had a strong grip.

You didn't understand how women could all over the world could go through this pain. Especially those without epidurals. 

"I want Jensen!" She cried.

You nodded, quickly making your way out into the hall. "Ackles! Get your ass in here!" Jensen gave Jared a scared look before following you inside.

"I'm here, sweetheart." He assured her as he took your place. You hid your smile at brother-in-law's kindness. You and Jensen never got along, mostly because you were so alike. You were both hard headed, but you had a big heart. You'd never say, but you secretly liked him.

"C'mon, Dannie," You encouraged, coming on the other side of her. "You've got this. Push!"

Danneel yelled once more, gripping both of your hands and she tried to push. "No! No, no, no. I can't do this!" She whined.

"You can and you will!" You demanded. "You are Danneel Ackles, you are a badass, powerful woman and you will be a great mother! All you have to do is push!"

"Easier said that done!" Danneel barked, her  auburn hair sticking to her forehead with sweat.

"We're almost there, Mrs. Ackles! One more push!" And with one last scream, and one last push, Danneel fell back on the bed, panting heavily. There was a small cry that pierced through the room, which caused the three adults to look over at the doctor.

"Congratulations," She smiled softly. "You just gave birth to a healthy baby girl."

Danneel and Jensen shared wide smiles as their newborn baby girl was set into their arms. "She's beautiful." Jensen whispered. "She has your eyes."

"She has your nose." Danneel looked over at you, her eyes filled with joy. "Y/N, can you give us a minute?"

"Of course, Dannie." You kissed her forehead. "I'm so happy for you."

You exited the room, only to find Jared pacing back and forth. "How are they? Danneel stopped screaming. Is she okay?" He asked, worry written across his face.

"They're okay. Better than okay, actually. Danneel just became a mother to a beautiful baby girl." You beamed proudly.

Jared let out a relieved laugh as he surged forward to hug you. You stood stiffly in his hold, unsure of what to do. You weren't used to physical affection, as your boyfriend rarely held you anymore. The last time you had been this close to Jared was at Jensen and Danneel's wedding when you both walked down the aisle together.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, patting his back awkwardly. "Sorry," He apologized sheepishly. "I'm a hugger."

"So I've noticed." You said, stepping away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some exciting news to share with my family."

You found an empty hallway and began to call every family member you could think of. Gino was first, obviously. You knew how excited he was when he found out Danneel was pregnant. Your parents were next, and then your cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.

You cringed as you looked at the last name on your contacts. Will.

You hadn't been on very good terms as of late. The two of you had been fighting constantly, especially after you found out Danneel was pregnant. You were beyond happy for her and Jensen; they were finally starting the family they had always dreamed about.

Fuck it. You might as well get it over with. It rang three times before it was finally answered. "Hello?" An unfamiliar female voice said.

"Uh, who is this?" You questioned, starting to get defensive. It was four o'clock in the morning in Vermont.

"Lacy," She answered simply.

"And what are you doing with my fiance's phone, Lacy?"

"Who is it, babe?" You heard Will in the background.

"It's your fiance, William. The one that I didn't know you had!" Lacy screamed. "You asshole! I can't believe you cheated! And I can't believe you dragged me into it! We're done!" You felt your throat close up, your eyes began to well up with tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. You kept repeating to yourself. This was the happiest day of Jensen and Danneel's life, you couldn't bring them down.

"Y/N, baby, this really isn't what it sounds like." Will claimed after Lacy threw his phone at him. 

"No, Will, I think it's exactly what it sounds like." You whispered harshly. "You cheated. After three years, you cheated on me."

"Well you didn't give me much of a choice, did you?" He growled.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't let me touch you in almost eight months. What else was I supposed to do? I have needs, Y/N."

"You know why we haven't done anything!" You hissed, tears running down your face. "You know exactly why!"

"Can't you just get over it! God, Y/N, we could always try again!" He yelled.

"Get over it? Get over it?! I lost my baby and you just want me to get over it! I can't just forget about it, Will. I should be having  my baby - our baby - in five weeks. July ninth."

"You know what I mean, Y/N. Of course I don't want you to forget about the baby, but we could always try again! It wasn't the end of the world!"

"Yes, it was, Will! You know how hard it is for me to get pregnant ever since I was diagnosed with PCOS-"

"It always comes back to that! 'Sorry, I can't have sex with you today because I feel bloated,' or 'Sorry I'm acting so down, my depression is bad today.' You use PCOS as an excuse to everything!"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to calm yourself. "It was never going to work, was it?" You said quietly. "We both want kids, but I can't give you that. I can't give you a lot of things, apparently. When I come back, I want you out of my house. I'm going to be staying with Danneel and Jensen for a while. They're going to need some help with the new baby. It's a girl, just in case you were wondering." You hung up the phone, taking in a shaky breath.

"Son of a bitch!" You wailed as you threw your phone against the wall. You slowly slid to the floor, putting your head in your hands. You tried to quiet your sobs by biting your lip, which only caused your mouth to be filled with a metallic liquid.

Get it together, Y/N. You wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself down. You couldn't believe this was happening. Your sister, your best friend, just gave birth to a healthy daughter. You should be celebrating, not crying over your crappy fiance. Ex fiance. 

You picked yourself off the floor, grabbing your phone as you did so. Of course it was shattered. You quickly went to the bathroom, your puffy face startling you. You splashed cold water on your face, which got rid of it for the most part.

You made your way back to Danneel's room, where the atmosphere was happy and joyful. Something that made your mood lighten just a fraction. "Hey Mama! How are you?"

"Doped up on pain meds," She grinned. "Having a baby really hurts. I knew it would hurt, I mean, I've seen the videos, but damn, that was awful." You laughed as you brushed her hair back.

"What's her name?"

"Justice Jay Ackles." Jensen answered, bringing your niece forward. "JJ for short. Do you want to hold her?"

You nodded eagerly as JJ was set into your arms. She began to fuss a little, reaching out for her father. "Shh, shh." You cooed. "It's okay, sweet JJ. I'm your Auntie Y/N/N. You'll get to meet the others soon enough. They're going to love you, just like your mommy and daddy love you. You are going to have a whole village looking after you, did you know that? Yeah, you have me, your uncle Gino, that's mommy's brother. Then you have your uncle Josh and Aunt Mack, that's your daddy's siblings. Then of course you have Uncle Jared and Misha. Those are daddy's best friends."

Jared and Jensen smiled at you. You were already so in love with JJ. "Danneel's knocked out." Jensen whispered. "The nurse wants to take JJ up to the nursery while she sleeps." You nodded as you handed over the baby. "Alright, I'm gonna go get us some food. You guys want anything?"

"No, I'm good." You shook your head.

"Same." Jared agreed.

And with that, Jensen left you and Jared alone with a sleeping Danneel. You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket and tried to turn it on. Just your luck, the screen stayed black. That's what you get for throwing your phone at the wall.

"What in the hell happened to your phone, Y/N?" Jared questioned.

"It fell out of my pocket." You lied. "I guess I'll have to buy and new one."

"Damn, that sucks." He frowned. You gave a small shrug, not saying much of anything. "Are you okay, Y/N? You don't seem like yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, normally you like to take jabs at me and Jensen. Hell, the only one you really like is Misha. Plus, ever since you came back in the room, you've been frowning and your eyes are still puffy from where I know you've been crying." You felt your heart sink to your stomach. "I know you don't like me very much, or Jensen, for that matter, but we do care. What's wrong?"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to sort out your words. "I can't say it here. Follow me."

You grabbed Jared by the hand and led him to where the nursery is. You needed something happy to cheer you up.

"Let me start this by saying that I don't hate you or Jensen." You didn't take your eyes off the adorable babies, but your hand was still brushing up against his. "I have known you both for a while now, and I care about you guys. Making jabs and snarky comments is how I show that I care." You could see Jared smiling out of the corner of your eye.

"I called Will this morning to tell him that Danneel had the baby." You saw Jared's smile fade slightly. "A woman answered his phone, and usually I wouldn't think anything of it. I would make an excuse that it's his secretary or assistant, but it was four a.m in Vermont when I called. Her name was Lacy." Your voice cracked.  "And it's my fault!"

"Y/N, it's not your fault-"

"But it is, Jare," You whispered. "It is. I pushed him away for months. Do you know how long it's been? Eight months. It's been eight months, Jared. And Will 'has needs.'"

"That's the dumbest excuse ever." He mumbled.

"This next part. . . I haven't told anyone but Will. Not Danneel, not Gino, not my parents, anyone. So you have to promise not to tell anyone. I'll tell my family once I'm ready, but for now, they don't need to know."

Jared's frown deepened. "I won't say anything, Y/N, I promise. Are you okay?"

"No," You shook your head. "I haven't been okay for a while now." You took a deep breath before continuing. "Last year I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome – PCOS for short."

"Yeah, I've heard of it." Jared said softly, his eyes filled with pity.

"Will and I had been trying so hard for a baby. And when we found out I had PCOS, we stopped. And I was heartbroken. I've wanted to start a family for so long, and to get that news hurt me. And it hurt Will." You felt your hands start to shake.

"One night after I had one too many drinks, I passed out on the couch, and I woke up the next morning in my bed with all my clothes off and Will lying in my bed beside me. I don't know what happened that night, but I know I didn't want it. And four weeks later I found out I was pregnant." Jared's jaw clenched and his eyes held something malicious.

"I didn't care how it happened. I know I should have, but I was just so excited to have a baby. To be a mother. And then when I went to my OBGYN, she told me I had. . . I had a miscarriage."

"Oh, Y/N," Jared said sadly, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"I lost my baby. And I don't know what to do with myself, Jare." You cried. "W-what am I supposed to do?"

You were shaking uncontrollably now, unable to calm down. "That m-might have been my only chance!" Jared swallowed hard as he brought you in for a hug. "I want my baby!" You wailed.

"I know," He whispered as he gripped you tight. "I know, honey. I am so sorry. This is so unfair to you. You deserve so much better than this."

"What if it was my last chance?" You sniffed.

"It wasn't," He assured you as he rocked you back and forth. "There are fertilization treatments, surrogacy, adoption. . . You'll be a mother one day, Y/N, and you'll be the best mother a child could ever ask for."

"Really?" You asked in a small voice, looking up at the tall man. He smiled as he brushed back a piece of your hair and wiped away your tears.

"Really."

You felt your heart beating out of your chest and your breaths quickening. "Jared,"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He didn't have to be told twice as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He cupped your face with both of his hands, bringing you closer to him. "Mm," He moaned, pulling away. "Not in front of the babies. They're too young to be scarred this way." You laughed as he dragged you away to a bathroom, making sure no one was in there before locking the door.

Jared grabbed you by the waist and gently pushed you against the wall. He wasted no time as he pressed his lips against yours once more. His tongue slid across your lower lip, asking for permission to enter, which you happily granted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Jared put his hand on the back of your thigh, encouraging you to jump. You got the memo as you lifted yourself up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moved and set you down on the counter.

"Do you want to keep going?" Jared asked, breathless.

"Yes," You nodded, your face flushed. "Please, Jare." He groaned at the nickname.

"I love it when you call me that." He said as he ran kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT

"And I. . . Love it when. . . You kiss my neck like that." You panted as you began to unbutton Jared's shirt. You ran your hands across his abs and looped your fingers around his belt buckle.

"You are far too overdressed." Jared complained as he tugged at the hem of your shirt.

"Why don't you fix that for me?" You smirked. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he pulled your shirt off your body.

You covered your stomach as you suddenly felt shy when Jared's eyes raked over your body. He frowned as he pulled your arms away. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I- I dunno. It's just. . . All the girls you've been with in the past like Gen and Sandra are so beautiful and I look nothing like them -"

"Let me stop you right there," Jared said sternly. "You are gorgeous and incredibly sexy. Don't you dare compare yourself to them, because they could never be as beautiful as you. Don't let any asshole tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" You nodded slowly, fighting off the smile that crept onto your face. "Good, now let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"

Jared pulled down your jeans and tossed them aside, along with your panties. He looked at you like he hadn't eaten in days and you were a four course meal.

He began to trail kisses up your thighs, getting so close to where you wanted him to be only for him to pull away. "Quite being such a tease!" You growled.

Jared have you a smirk. "Yes ma'am." And with that he pulled you forward slightly so you were sitting on the edge of the counter. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before a wave of euphoria hit as you felt Jared's tongue on your clit.

"Oh-" You moaned, only for Jared to cover your mouth with his hand.

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you?" He questioned. You shook your head, desperate for him to return to where he was. "Be a good girl for me and stay quiet." His kissed you on the mouth before going back to eating you out. You bit your lip in attempts to silence your moans.

"Fuck," You whispered as you leaned your head back. Jared began to tease your hole with his tongue, making you gasp and grab onto his long locks.

You felt warmth spread through your stomach and a familiar coil began to tighten. "Oh, god, Jare, please keep going!" You encouraged him. "I'm so close."

At those words, Jared pulled away abruptly, making you want to cry out. "Sorry babygirl, you can only come when I say you can."

You frowned at his words. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you enjoy it." He winked. Jared began to unbuckle his belt; you could see his growing erection through his jeans. "I don't have a condom." He said defeated. "Are you clean?"

You nodded. "What about you?"

"Yeah, I'm all good." He assured you.

"Then we should be fine, it's not like I can get pregnant anyways."

"You never know." Jared said as he nipped at your neck. As he left love bites on your neck, you began to pull down his jeans, revealing his hardon. You pushed yourself off the counter and got on your knees, only for Jared to pull you back up.

"Not this time, kitten. This is about you, not me."

"But I want to make you feel good." You protested.

"Next time, baby." You smiled at the thought of a next time. He quickly turned you around so you were bent over the counter. "You're so wet." He growled as he grinded against you. "All this for me?"

"Yes, Jare. Only for you." You panted, desperate for his cock.

"Good," He murmured against your neck. "I've been waiting a while for this to happen, there is no way I'm letting it go to waste. Do you still want this?" He questioned, wanting to make sure you were still comfortable with it.

"If you stopped now I might have to kill you." Jared slowly pushed into you, as he didn't want to hurt you. You gasped in surprise; you had never been with someone as big as him. He gave you time to adjust to his size. "Move." You pleaded.

Jared chuckled as he slowly began to thrust into you. He grunted at the feeling of your warmth. "Fuck, Y/N." He moaned. "You're so fucking tight."

He began to pick up speed, which earned a moan from you. Jared put his hand over your mouth to silence your sounds, but you could still hear you skin slapping together.

"Oh, fuck." He growled. "I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you with my seed, make you all round. God, you'd look so fucking sexy carrying my baby." Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words, causing your walls to clench around his dick. "Would you like that, huh? Being so full of my cum that it runs down you legs."

"Oh, fuck yes." You nodded. "Please, Jared, fill me with your cum. Make me carry your child." You begged.

Jared gripped your hips tightly, (definitely leaving bruises) as he rammed into you. You struggled to keep quiet, as all you wanted to do was scream from pleasure. "You're going to look so good filled with my cum." He purred.

"Let me cum with you." You whined, the coil in your stomach was ready to snap.

"I'm so close." He grunted, sweat dotting his brow. "Cum with me, babygirl. Cum." He demanded.

You shuttered as your coil finally snapped and you rode out your orgasm on Jared's dick. He followed soon after you, blowing his load into your womb.

"Holy shit," You muttered. "That was so fucking hot."

"You're telling me." Jared said as he slowly pulled out, making you feel empty. You began to clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.

You both looked a mess; swollen lips, messy hair and to top it all of, hickeys scattered your neck. You reached up on your tip toes to flatten Jared's hair. "At least our hair covers the bruises." You grinned.

"So, what happens next?" Jared questioned.

"I guess that's up to you." You shrugged. "We can either go on a date and see how this plays out, or we can forget this ever happened."

"I don't want to forget." He shook his head. "I don't think I could forget."

"Good," You smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." Jared grinned as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

"I have a really good feeling about this."

#danneel ackles #jensen ackles #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki #jensen and jared #jared padalecki smut #j2m #dean winchester imagine #castiel imagine #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #jack kline imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #gabriel imagine #jack kline #jack kline x reader

[deexchanel]

New York

Word Count: 2,655

Pairing: Avengers x BlackFem!Reader. Justice League x BlackFem!Reader but more specifically Clark Kent x BlackFem!Reader.

Warning: Arguing, mention of miscarriage, angst.

Summary: After not being in contact for so long, someone decides to make a visit.

A/N: The title has nothing to do with the one short. Oops. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy!😁 below is Y/N’s outfit for the first half.

A long day after helping the team on their mission, Y/N wanted some pizza. It was around 10 p.m. when she decided to leave the tower. Tony was asleep in the chair, Steve was asleep on the couch. Natasha and Bucky were on the floor watching a movie. Thor was rummaging through the refrigerator, he was watching the movie as well but stopped to get some snacks.

Loki was in the library reading a book. Peter was on patrol so that’s why she felt safe with being out so late. “Loki I’m leaving to get some pizza okay?” He closed his book, preparing to stand up.

“Alright, I’m going with you.”

Y/N placed a hand on his chest so he could stay sitting. “ I want to go by myself Loki. I’m going to be perfectly fine, Peter’s patrolling right now.”

Loki sigh trying to push down his overprotective feeling. “Alright, just be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Y/N hummed kissing his forehead, she then walked to the living. Everyone in their same position except Thor was now back on the floor.

Y/N kissed each of their foreheads, “I’m going to go get some pizza. Anyone wants anything?”

Natasha shook her head,“ No, be careful though. I really want to pause this good movie to save your ass.” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing her purse from the hook.

“Bring me back some pizza? I’m rather hungry.” Thor said with his eyes glued to the tv.

“You’re always hungry Thor. Bring me some too. Better yet, why don’t I just come.” Y/N heard shuffling from behind her. She wanted to take a peaceful by herself to get pizza, is that too hard to ask? “No Bucky, I want to go by myself. I can handle it.”

She turns around to see him looking at her hesitantly. “You sure Y/N? I don’t mind coming-”

“I got it, really. Go enjoy the movie Bucky. I’ll be right back.” Y/N cut him off, walking out of the door. Bucky stood there dumbfounded, “Is she acting weird or it’s just me?” He pointed to the door, looking at Natasha and Thor.

“She seems alright with me.” Natasha shrugged and Thor didn’t reply.

Y/N took a deep breath hearing the new york life sparkle in her ears. Taxis coming and going. The roar of the subway beneath Y/N’s feet. Everyone talking but still being able to hear your own conversation.

Lights flashing brightly, babies crying, the homeless constantly asking for money. The smell of 1,000 vendors, many selling gyros. Broadway fans going insane when their favorite cast member walks out of the stage door. People of every race, color, and religion.

“Finally,” Y/N mumbled after a good minute of walking, she arrived at the pizza store on the corner. She ordered and stood in line for 15 minutes then left with 5 boxes of pizza. Stopping at the park, Y/N sat on a bench eating pizza enjoying the night air.

Y/N was happy with life but sometimes a person just wants to be alone. A little part of her misses the old lifestyle she had. Bruce, Barry, Diane, Victor, and Arthur. She missed them so much, especially Clark but he was the last person she wanted to see.

They were old lovers, at one time there wasn't a thing Clark wouldn't do for Y/N. Time skip, Y/N found out she was pregnant but due to stress from Clark, she miscarried. No one knew because of the genuine smile she held on her face. He was probably so caught up with Lois to not notice that she'd been gone for a year now.

She loved Clark, Y/N was his best friend. Lois came into the picture and he dropped everything just for her. Heartbroken, Y/N came to new york searching for happiness. She found it in the avengers who she now calls family.

Today was the anniversary of her baby and she just wanted to be alone. She was alone when it happened so she rather be alone now. Y/N stared off into space not even hearing someone land beside her. You read right, land.

"Y/N?"

The deep voice took her out of her gaze. Y/N turned to see Clark in his superman attire. Shocked, she could barely get anything out. "...Clark??"

Clark's face held worry," Y/N..." Y/N furrow her eyebrow confused cutting him off.

"What are you doing here Clark?"

"I can't come to see you now? Y/N I haven't seen you in months."

"Clark I don't wanna talk about that right now. I want to know how did you know I was here??" Y/N stood up, placing her unfinished pizza in the box. She couldn't even enjoy alone time without being bothered.

"Bruce's been track you this whole time Y/N. Come home, we miss you. I miss you." He reached out for her hands. Surprisingly Y/N let him grab her hands. She shook her head.

"Clark I can't just leave. I have a life and family here. You have Lois now, that's who you need. Not me."

Clark looked down," She left me Y/N. Lois said me being superman was too much."Y/N sigh knowing how to hurt he was. Yes, she was mad at him but sometimes not everything needs a reaction. Keeping it calm, she gave him a hug.

"I'm so sorry Clark, I should've been there for you."

Clark held her close smelling her wonderful smell of lavender. "It's okay Y/N. I know this life is treating you well."

Y/N could feel that it was getting late. "Clark I have to go, but I do have to ask you something." He pulled back glazing into her brown eyes.

"What is it Y/N?"

"Tomorrow evening bring the team to the tower. I want everyone to meet each other. I'll cook! It'll be so much fun."

Clark looked at her with hesitation, "I don't know Y/N.."

Y/N gave him the puppy dog eyes, "Please Clark? You get to see me in a nice outfit." He smiled giving in.

"Oh alright."

-------

"A little bit of this," Y/N murmured pouring grated cheese on top of the macaroni. She placed it in the oven, closing the door with her butt. Dinner consisted of steak with tarragon mushrooms with a side of macaroni. Y/N had been in the kitchen all day while the team did their overview with Fury for missions they have done.

"Smells amazing in here Y/N! What you make?" Steve's voice came from behind while she grabbed plates out of the cabinet. "Food Steve. You'll see when it's dinner time and if you don't mind, can you help me set the table?"

Steve nodded his head with a smile, "Sure I don't mind Y/N." The two joked around while they set the table. Clark and everyone were to be here in about 20 minutes. When she got home from the park last night, Y/N told the avengers about this evening dinner, and boy it was some weird faces.

She didn't know who was harder to convince, Tony or Steve. Maybe because they had been on the team longer. Once finished Y/N ushered Steve to go get dressed. She was so caught up with finishing the meal, that she didn't check the time. "Fuck!"

It was 10 minutes until Clark and the rest got there. She was nowhere near ready. "Y/N why aren't you ready?" Tony asked in disbelief when he walked into the kitchen. Y/N pulled at her hair.

"I know, I know! I was too caught up in finishing the steaks. Can you watch the food so it won't burn? please?"

Tony sigh,"If that makes you get dressed faster then I'll watch it." He opened the lid, the food smelled amazing. "Yeah hurry up, this smells good. I'm ready to eat."

"Thank you!" She kissed his cheek, rushing past so can get dressed.

---------

"Y/N they're here!" Steve called up the stairs. Y/N hopped around on one foot trying to put on the other boot. When it finally slid on her foot, she stood in front of a mirror taking a deep breath. She wanted all her favorite people to come together and be her support. To make her forget about the pain she went through a year ago yesterday.

Y/N walked downstairs with all eyes on her. Clark's mouth was agape from how good she looked. "Arthur! Diana! I've missed you guys!" Y/N hugged her with passion.

"Me too. You look beautiful." Diana hugged her back. Y/N moved towards Arthur giving him a hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah you look too good, don't make me have to beat anyone up from looking too hard." Thor snorted which made Arthur glance at him for a second. Y/N moved to Bruce.

"I hope you're doing good Bruce other than Barry getting on your nerves."

"Hey!" Barry said in defense.

"I'm good, just missed having you around."Bruce expressed which kinda shocked Y/N because he wasn't so open. She then gave Victor and Barry a hug. "I've missed you, two knuckleheads, together."

"We've missed you too." Victor smiled.

"What are we eating, it smells so good in here," Barry said excitedly. Y/N laughing gesturing towards the dining table. "We're about to find out, let's eat!"

Everyone cheered a bit sitting at the table, you know they didn't mingle but sat on the opposite side. Y/N walked over to the stove trying to bring the food to the table but Natasha stopped her.

"I got it Y/N, go sit down. You've been on your feet all day, I can bring the food to the table." Natasha grabbed the glass casserole dish out of her hand. She wasn't lying about her feet hurting but Y/N wasn't going to admit it.

Y/N sigh, "Fine, I'm bringing the champagne to the table though." She hurriedly grabbed two bottles of champagne before Natasha could protest. She definitely needed a sip before dealing with two rival heroes.

----------

There were conversations here and there but most of Y/N. She had all her favorite people in one room. Dinner was running smoothly until...

"So Y/N, Clark told us that you were coming back to stay permanently. I'm excited to have you back." Barry used his knife to cut the steak. Y/N didn't know who to look at crazy him or Clark. She could feel the hard glaze from Bucky.

"What's speedy boy talking about Y/N?" Tony asked tilting his head. Steve sat down his knife.

"Yes please do explain."

"I uh haven't said anything like that. I had planned on visiting, it wasn't official." Y/N scratched her arm out of nervousness from all eyes on her.

"I knew I wasn't going insane. Y/N wasn't going to go back permanently, she's not that crazy." Thor chuckled drinking his champagne.

Victor glanced at him sideways."What's that supposed to mean? Y/N wouldn't be crazy if she came back permanently. That's honestly the perfect decision if she does."

"Guys.." Y/N trailed off but was ignored by everyone. "Y/N is right where she belongs. Do I need to say more?" Loki wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"If she wants to come back permanently then she can. Y/N's only been with you guys for what ? a year? She's been with us forever so you know who she's going to choose." Arthur leaned back in the seat.

"Sure fish boy." Tony let his smart mouth get the best of him. Y/N took a sip of her champagne to calm her nerves.

"Guys..."

She was ignored again. "Y/N is coming with us and that's final. That's the only reason why I came to this wretched place was for her." Clark crossed his arm and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

"She's not going anywhere with you. I stand on that."

"Barnes right, you think I was going to let her leave with you after what you did? That's really funny." Natasha chugged the rest of her champagne down. Y/N winced at what she said.

"Guys please."

"Does that matter? Y/N is coming whether you like it or not." Bruce said setting his fork down. Diana nodded in agreement.

"I don't have to anything. Just know I'm not going down without a fight?"

"You people are so petty and tiny." Thor laughed using his fingers to indicate how small they were.

"If Y/N doesn't want to leave she isn't going to leave. it's her decision." Steve sat forward in his seat. They were getting louder by the minute.

"She isn't going, you weaklings," Loki growled sitting forward in his seat as well, not taking eyes off Arthur. Both Clark and Bucky held an intense stare.

"We should go few rounds." Tony stood up and so did Bruce.

"Let's do it then Stark."

Y/N chugged down the rest of the champagne. "Stop." The argument between them grew louder. "Stop!" Y/N stood up placing her hands on the table, no one noticed.

She slammed her hands against the table. "STOP! JUST STOP IT!" Everyone stared at her in shock.

"ENOUGH WITH THIS! I brought you altogether because I wanted support. I needed support."Y/N gritted through her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. "The one time I step out, you all can't even put your petty egos aside. I don't care who I'm staying with and I don't fucking know why it's an argument. I just wanted it to be a normal night."

Y/N lips trembled as she cried, "I can't hold on to this no longer. I was pregnant before I left Clark. I lost the baby. I lost it the day I went to find out the gender." Clark squeezed his eyes closed, his heart broke hearing the news. "And I hate myself so much for even letting myself stress so much that I lost it. When it happened I was alone. I didn't have you, Bruce, or Diana. I didn't have no one. I came to New York heartbroken."

She looked at the Avengers, they held a sad face. Natasha's cheeks were coated with tears."You guys mended my broken heart. You made me feel welcome and I don't know how I could ever repay you." Y/N wiped her tears.

"But I can't deal with this between all of you. I'm leaving so you can have your big ego contest."

She slid the chair back, walking to the elevator. "Y/N!" Bucky called for her but she ignored him. "Shit!" Clark curses under his breath getting up from the chair. Tony shook his head at him.

"Leave her be Clark. She probably went up to the roof or to the park for fresh air."

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

Y/N sat in the chair at the airport. She was only going out of the country for a couple of days just to clear her mind. Bruce and Tony have been blowing up her phone none stop. She was tired and waiting on her flight to be called. "Ugh, I'm so tired." She mumbled rubbing her temple. She got up going to the bathroom.

It was oddly quiet until she heard panicked screams. "What?" She murmured looking over her shoulder. Parademons were everywhere. Y/N scrambled to grab her phone trying to be quiet. She slid down the wall, covering her mouth trying to contain her breathing so she wouldn't be heard. The vibration from her phone caught one of their attention and she didn't know.

Still scrambling, Y/N declined the call somehow. She knew she was fucked, tears raced down her melanin cheeks as she held her breath. The parademons appeared beside Y/N, one inspected making sure she was the right one. It snatched Y/N up and she screamed.

"CLARK!"

--------

The two teams were either sitting around or cleaning up. Clark stood in front of the wet dishes drying them off while Bucky cleaned them. He froze hearing Y/N scream in his ears. Diana noticed and instantly spoke up.

"What is Clark? What's wrong?"

"Y/N's been kidnapped."

-------

Omg, I feel like this is so weird😂😂😂. I am going to make a part 2 I just gotta think about how it's going to go. I have a busy weekend ahead so I won't update until Monday.

Yk i had to make Y/N damsel in distress 😉. Clark is her lover but Bucky does like her. This is kinda a part 2 of Vacation. I love Marvel and DC so why not put them together 😁!

I hope you guys enjoyed this weird post even though the title has nothing to do with the plot of the story, I just couldn't think of anything 😂😂.

Stay slutty my friends 💜

#marvel #bucky barnes fluff #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky x poc!reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x black!reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #tony stark x black!reader #thor x black!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #clark kent x reader #clark kent x black!reader #bruce wayne #barry allen #arthur curry x reader #justice league #loki x black!reader #victor stone

[inkmemes]

this  country  (  2017  -  2020  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  the  bbc  mockumentary.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  religion,  death,  sex.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i like the underdog.”

“don't be a fucking dick.”

“everyone comes together on days like today and just forgets their utter hatred of each other.”

“everyone who's anyone's going to be there and there are people from my past that would love to see me slain.”

“there's a tea rooms there and under the counter they've got a panic button and if i take one step inside, they can press that. the police will be there in three minutes.”

"he whatsapped me the other day asking us to go laser quest with him and i ... well, i clicked on it by accident, didn't i? so he knows i've seen it."

"i mean, i get it, but it's not making me feel nothing."

“it's baffling. i'm baffled by the entire situation, if i'm honest.”

“what the actual fuck? what the actual fuck? you have fucking lost your head, mate. you have lost your fucking head.”

“when i get hold of you, i swear to god i will fucking deck you.”

"someone's just been throwing plums at my house. i'm going to kill them. i can't believe it. i can't believe it. all over this. plumming on here, plumming on that. plum on the sofa, look! there's nothing left that hasn't been plummed."

“i've had a target on my back since the day i was born.”

“thank you very much, enjoy your free potatoes.”

“do you know how small your brain is?”

“hogwarts is that way, dumbledore.”

“he used to say i looked like the puppet off the dolmio advert.”

“there's a kid crying over there. do you want me to...? i can tell him to shut the fuck up if you want?”

“he genuinely looked like a moomin.”

“on my first day of karate club, karate master goes to me, [name], i don't know why you're here because i can't teach you anything. if anything, you should be teaching me." and just gave me his black belt.”

“you know that little old blind man? yeah, when i was punching him in his face, the lens from his glasses broke and cut my knuckle.”

“some things are just best left in the past, where they belong.”

“what's the point in knocking if you're just going to walk in anyway?”

“it was a miscarriage of justice though, cos what people forget is 12 out of them 20 hostages actually found it funny.”

“i lied so much i still don't know what's real life and what's plain lies.”

“i'm so glad you're out of that lying phase.”

“he likes to be the only person on the road, so whenever he sees a car coming the other way he just pulls over.”

“nasa went through hundreds of them in the '60s. and now every time i see a really bright star in the sky i can't wish on it, cos in my head i'm thinking, ‘that's probably just a spacecraft with some monkey bones in it.’”

“you absolute traitor. that's my cheese - it's my fucking house!”

“don't you dare eat that cheese. you eat that and i will smash this. i promise you, i will smash you with this.”

“fuck! you switched them!”

“yeah, i can see it's fucking burnt, sherlock.”

“i honestly am ashamed to know him, sometimes.”

“if you knock on someone's door, don't take no for an answer. get into their house. if they say, ‘leave my house’, stay. and if they say, ‘i'm going to call the police’, you walk upstairs and see if there's anybody else upstairs to sell to.”

“she looks like uncle fester.”

“right. i'm going to piss in their flowers, then.”

“you really need to go home. your mum's called the police and everything.”

“you're also fired from being my best mate, by the way.”

“in business, there will always be setbacks. i don't drink my own juice, fray bentos doesn't eat his own pies. but that's business.”

“do you know what, i don't actually want to play this any more, because it is actually very, very boring.”

“i'm ashamed of myself, that's not usually me, so don't get the wrong impression.”

“i genuinely think one of them fancies me as well.”

“it's fate her moving across the street.”

“the problem with finding a girlfriend in the village is that most of the girls you meet round here are old-age pensioners.”

“yeah, i am looking for a relationship, but thing is i've just got so many trust issues, yeah, with being fucked over massive in the past, so no matter how much i get close to someone now i'm thinking in the back of my head, ‘shit, am i going to get fucked over?’ because i've been fucked over in the past massively. my last relationship proper fucked me up.”

“i went through a really dark phase. listening to papa roach and just blowing everything up with them little french bangers.”

“shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!”

“i don't like the man. i know he's my uncle, but i don't like him.”

“it's just malicious lies, that's all it is.”

“i'm not saying i've got a cruel heart, but if she ain't willing to take me as i am rather than the monster i've become, then she can literally just jog on back to sea with all the other fish cos i don't care.”

“what do you look for in a boyfriend?”

“the key to dating, yeah, is the two rs and the three ts. 'respect, rapport, and talking, talking, talking.' don't ever let that ball hit the ground. good relationships are built on great conversation.”

“on a date, you've got to tell them all the interesting stuff about you, because that's what they'll be interested in.”

“he said to me, he goes, ‘you can't smoke on here.’ i said, ‘i'm not smoking, i'm vaping.’ the look on his face when i said that. i don't think he knew what vaping… what a vape is.”

“you would make me the happiest mouse if you say yes and become my spouse.”

“here's a tip, [name], next time you take a chick out on a date, don't bore her to tears.”

“roses are red, violets are blue, i've got five fingers, the third one's for you.”

“get out of my way, pipe cleaner.”

“[name] phoned me the other day at three in the morning saying, ‘come quick,

there's a hedgehog in the garden that looks exactly like grandad.’ so i got up, i got dressed and i ran over to [name]'s as fast as i could and then i just stopped in the middle of the street at three in the morning and thought, ‘what the fuck am i doing with my life?’

“you're joking me? because if you are joking me, that is massively harsh.”

“oh, let me get a song up on youtube. you're going to absolutely love this, [name]. here we go… listen to this. oh, for fuck's sake, advert.”

“let's go down the pub and get shitfaced.”

“where do i see myself in five years? well, me and [name] will have a flat in the middle of the village and all of our furniture will be inflatable and we'll have cable and it will pay for itself, because we're going to use the spare room to breed quails, because their eggs are worth fucking shitloads.”

“is this about the calippo, still? because you offered to buy me that.”

“if he wants to go, good luck to him, i say. i reckon he thinks that i can't live without him, which is a laugh, because he went a whole weekend away once and i got on all right. i just ended up following this cat around the village.”

“i've got to do what's right for me, at the end of the day, instead of worrying about other people.”

“how about you say sorry? sorry for the massive knife that's hanging out the back of my back because of you.”

“oh, and while you're stabbing me in the back, feel free to bend down and kiss my arse.”

“can i just ask you an honest question? why would you want to leave the village when we've got a pub and a shop?”

“i think you don't know how lucky we have it to be doing nothing with our lives, like. we're all going to die, anyway, so what's the point in doing anything?”

“i want ownership of the words fucknut and dickmilk.”

“i had this come through the post. and i've got a few concerns about it. firstly, this guy on the front looks really arrogant. not the sort of guy i was expecting, if i'm honest.”

“this is starting to stress me out a little bit.”

“why are you trying to stress me out? you know i'm already stressed out as it is.”

“the bloke that used to live in there, right, kept hearing strange noises coming out of his attic at night. and he'd go to the fridge and find that food was missing from the fridge. so he thought, ‘i'm just going to go up to the attic and check this out.’ and he found an entire family of peruvian panpipe buskers just living up there. and he thought ‘i'm just going to leave them to it, ‘cos they're not really doing me any harm.’ and then, a few years later, he thought, "well, i'll just go up to the attic to check on them. ‘see if they're all right.’ and it turned out they'd all died of asbestos poisoning. yeah, he doesn't live here any more.”

“some people will always be scared of me, and i can't change that, no matter how nice i am. but there's a balance to be had between being nice and being feared.”

“don't really like catching up. it's not my thing.”

“i just watched this video of this girl doing a random act of kindness on youtube. she basically paid for this old man's shopping at the till. and this old man was, like, about 90 years old. and he's so fucking old, like, you could see through his skin. and he just starts bawling his eyes out. he's like, ‘you're fucking joking me, this ain't fucking real life.’ i just thought... i want to make someone feel like that. ‘cos that's... i really… that's what i want to do.”

“i'm not dead. just can't be arsed to text her sometimes.”

“you know, correct me if i'm wrong, but four texts a day is complete madness. no-one can keep up with that.”

“i am doing kind things selfishly.”

“i was at midnight mass one year, right, someone got tipped off i was there. as i was coming out the church, someone tries to shoot me with a crossbow.”

“well, i haven't seen the film, have i? that's why i came here - to watch the fucking film - like a normal human being.”

“i've made an effort by coming here tonight. i didn't want to come.”

“i had to wheel him here from his house in an asda trolley, cos he was just too heartbroken to move.”

“sometimes you don't know what you got until you ain't got it any more. like blockbuster's. i just took 'em for granted - and then, one day, gone, and you spend ages trying to figure out what went wrong, and then you realise it was your fault all along.”

“i thought you said you wanted to fix things.”

“she wanted it to go that way, and it just wasn't gonna go that way. she even got me thinking that they'd get back together… ..but that's manipula.... manipulative people... do that. and he's better off without her.”

“that wasn't much to write home about.”

“it's fucking dead, isn't it?”

“basically, somebody's been sending me threatening letters, and i don't know who's doing it - and i am concerned, because my peripheral vision is poor, so, if somebody attacks me from the sides or snipes at me from an upstairs window, i am fucked - but my hearing is excellent, see? so i just need to spend a few days inside honing my sonar, and i'll be fine then.”

“if you don't like the work, the circus is in town and they're always looking for clowns.”

“his soul is just going to crumble to dust.”

“this really is not a good situation for me. a physical threat is something that i can deal with, but a sexual thing is not my area of expertise.”

“just really fucked in the head, mate.”

“what have i done? i haven't done anything wrong.”

“do you know how sad that is? that is so, actually, sad. that makes me sad for you, that you can't take a joke.”

“i think i just got a bit carried away with the whole thing.”

“your finger's going up my arsehole, mate.”

“i'll hold the back of your head, so you don't bash yourself.”

“when i lie in future, i don't want a massive lecture on how bad lying is, cos deep down, you're the worst of us all, mate.”

“i'd quite like a coke.”

“it's going to be like gluing a breadstick back together, because… like, as if a breadstick's been in a blender and it's all… ...the pieces smashed up.”

“like, this one time i started a fight club in the village hall, and i got a black eye from beating myself up. but it made my enemies think, ‘fuck, if she can do that to herself, what the fuck can she do to me?’”

“i'm absolutely 1,000% sure i've broken it in two places.”

“i knew this day would come.”

“i should be in tk maxx, getting the bargains that i deserve.”

“unlike you, [name], i'm not a fashion disaster.”

“i'm still warm in my grave, and she's sucking off the pallbearer.”

“you know, it took me ten years to get over [name], and i only went out with her for half a day.”

“i swear to god, if i see him here again, i swear to god, i will have no hesitation in just going up to him and just planting one on his face.”

“right, then keep your nose out of my business, yeah? nosy old cock-womble.”

“[name]’s attitude to me is puzzling. if i walk past her in the street

and say hi, she'll tell me to fuck off. yet every year, she sends me a really sweet, nice christmas card. you know, there's just no consistency there.”

“he's good-looking up close, isn't he?”

“don't show me any weakness, because i will take advantage.”

“no, put the brick down, you fucking psychopath.”

“when i asked him, he just said, ‘come to my office now,’ which means we're in the fucking shit, cos we're always in fucking shit.”

“i shouldn't be paying you at all.”

“i've always had a son. i talk about him all the time.”

“he's my son. he's not my dog.”

“it reminds me of the wicker man. i don't really know why.”

“i just find it weird how you can be so close to someone and they can be such a big part of your life, and then the next minute, you're just sort of strangers in the night.”

“i don't want the emotional implications.”

“well, about five years ago, i sold my birthday to my mum for about 200 quid, which means my mum's legally entitled now to never celebrate my birthday ever again for the rest of my life. not even, like, a happy birthday cup of tea, or a moonpig card, nothing - which is the worst decision i ever made in my entire life.”

“he deserves that anyway, because he's been sexting my nan, so…”

“what's this surprise? cos i need to know whether it's going to be worth this walk.”

“i always see them banners above the motorway, and i always thought, ‘who the fuck does them?’ well, now i know. people like me.”

“did you know you can't get stung by a stinging nettle if you grab the leaf top and bottom, like that? it's only when you touch it on the sides, it stings. agh, actually, that stung, then.”

“pez dispenser, they're cursed. they are, i'm not even joking. honestly, when i had one of them, i had the worst bout of bad luck i ever had in my life.”

“i swear down, it's a short cut. it might be a pleasant walk, we might enjoy it.”

“i'm not scared of the fox twins. i'd just like to sit them down and ask 'em plainly, ‘look, guys, what is going on? ‘cos this has just gotten completely out of hand now. you know, stop walking on your knuckles, stand up straight, be the best version of you that you can be. get a job, even. there's a trolley boy who works at tesco's, you know, who may as well have been raised by wolves. if he can get a job, you guys can walk it.’”

“yes, there has been talk of strange goings-on in the woods, ghost sightings and the like. but… ...they're never from particularly reliable sources.”

“i live with a ghost. there's a ghost in that house. he's like a civil war cavalier, with all the hair and the hat and all that. and every time i walk into the living room, he doffs his cap. and on his shoulder, he's got this crow that barks at me. it means i spend less time in the house, really. not because of him, because he's-he's quite peaceable. but the crow is malevolent. and i'm not having that. i can't share my house with a malevolent bird.”

“that's haunted as fuck.”

“am i going mad here, or does that, to you, look like that's where just ghost will hang out all the time?”

“look at him, little red riding twat.”

“if he's got an attitude with me, i swear to god, i'll just grab the steering wheel and drive us all into a wall.”

“it's a bit annoying, actually. cos this is not the first or the second time i've had to tell you, really, is it?”

“his sparkle has just gone.”

“you know my dad actually wrote the song wonderwall on the back of a beer mat in the space of ten minutes, don't you?”

“i've just got a tiny, tiny, tiny little favour to ask you.”

“when i think of [name], i think of someone who is very loyal. and very, very stupid. sort of more stupid than loyal. sort of 70% stupid, 30% loyal, probably. because she's very loyal. but extremely stupid.”

“do you know what? i actually don't think he loves you at all and i don't think he's ever loved you.”

“all right, that's harsh and unnecessary, but fine.”

“frankly, she is behaving like the antichrist.”

“i literally just got here.”

“you are such an unemotional slab of ham, [name].”

“i've got so much shit on that man you would not believe.”

“there's something in my eye.”

“i just can't quit him, you know?”

“yeah, we might have a fiery relationship,  but when we're together, it's just… it's just pure chemistry, isn't it?”

“i'm not proud of it, believe me. but at the end of the day, i'm a very vindictive person, you know? it is what makes me me.”

“i basically went out and bought an alpaca off gumtree for £500. of all the mistakes i've made in my life, that was possibly the largest. definitely the physically largest.”

“yeah, i really don't wanna talk about that.”

“her only loyalty is to herself, staffies, and the tv channel dave… ...which, in my opinion, is a tv channel made by knuckle-draggers for knuckle-draggers.”

“i can't move on till i've seeked revenge, unfortunately.”

“if that was in france, that would be fine, but we're not in france.”

“the only thing we had in common, really, was stealing, and that was more my thing that i got him onto. but it just goes to show, you know, some friendships last and some friendships don't, but that's just the way it is.”

“you know it was me that got you sacked, don't you?”

“the thing i learnt about friendship is, you gotta accept each other's flaws, no matter how toxic they may be.”

“shit-stirring from beyond the grave.”

#rp meme #rp prompt #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #this is the nichest meme ive made #but this show is so fucking funny okay

[captaincvans]

Chapter Four: Skin to Bone

03/01/20

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1667+

Warnings: Language; TW: Miscarriage

Series Masterpost

A/N: I apologize for the long wait for this chapter! I hope I do this story justice, and I hope you all enjoy the updates. If you have a kind word or two to spare, please drop by my Askbox- I really need it.

Y/N turned around at the door, seeing the hard face of her ex-boyfriend before he slammed the door at her face. She stumbled through the city, trying to numb her emotions and think about her next steps. She needed a place to stay, luckily it was still the holidays, and she had the next two days off. The first hotel she went to was booked up, and so was the second one, and the third one. She opted for a small motel in the quieter part of town, where it wouldn’t be bustling with tourists. She managed to get a single room with a king sized bed for a reasonable price. Chris didn’t leave her with much stuff, just her phone that was quickly losing battery, her purse, and a duffle bag that she threw her essentials in. Luckily, she always brought a battery pack in case of emergencies. She chewed on her lip for a while, wondering what to do next.

“Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath. She typed a quick text to Chris, hoping he hadn’t blocked her number yet.

I need the rest of my stuff. When can I pick it up?

She waited a few seconds before her phone pinged.

Tomorrow morning. John will be there.

Y/N didn’t bother to text back, her body exhausted from the day, her mind shutting down to protect herself from the incoming wave of emotions. She decided to retire for the night, just after showering in the dirty bathroom, she thought it would be best to stay in the clothes she came in, unsure of the last time the bedsheets were actually clean. Once in bed, the weight of the day came crashing down on her. Their three-year relationship was gone, just down the drain. Chris was someone she found herself imagining living the rest of her life with, but now their relationship has ended like this. Once a drop of tear escaped, there was no turning back. She was angry at him for not giving her a chance to speak, for not giving her the chance to tell him about the baby she might be carrying, but overall she was just sad. Chris had never behaved like this towards her, or anyone he knows for that matter! It would have taken a lot to get him this upset, but she just didn’t know what she did to make him upset like this- or if there was even a reason. Perhaps that was the most upsetting part of it all, he never gave her a chance to fix the relationship. He just gave up on them. He didn’t fight for them. Y/N spent hours grieving over the relationship she lost, mourning over the future she thought she would have.

Her heart was bubbling with anger and hurt, the feelings making her want to vomit, but she remained strong. She lived all her other years without Chris, and would be damned if she let him ruin her life like this. Overall, she felt defeated with the turn of events. Chris was as stubborn as a person would get, he wasn’t going to change his mind or listen to her while he was still this hurt. After a restless sleep, she woke up at around 9AM, unusually late for her, but she was grateful for the fact that it was now a reasonable time to head over to Chris’s apartment. She took her car, thankful that she always had a preference towards a CRV instead of smaller cars.

“Hi John,” Y/N greeted quietly, not knowing what his mood was going to be. She wasn’t even sure if he knew the whole story, and if he would be resentful towards her.

“Hi Y/N,” he replied. He gave her a small smile, sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “Not great.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. “Do you need help getting these in your car?”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

John grabbed the box closest to him, and placed it inside her car. Slowly, but surely the car was starting to get full with all her stuff, and it left her heart aching more. Once the last of her items were in the car, John stopped her. “Before I forget. Chris wanted me to give you this.” He handed her a stapled contract.

“Oh right… The agreement,” Y/N mumbled. She never thought her relationship with Chris would end this badly, she never thought it would end, period. She was sure he was the one she would spend the rest of her life with. She would never forget signing this form when they reached their second year anniversary, almost a year ago. Chris hadn’t even told her about this directly, John had given her all this information on his own.

“Sorry about all this, Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault, John. How should I make the payments?”

“You can deposit it into the account shown on the last page. It should have all the information you need, and if you have any questions feel free to call me.”

She read over the letter, heart sinking when she saw the amount of money she owed, but she wasn’t surprised. Chris had spent quite a great deal on her and the relationship. She dragged her feet to the motel, hoping to find some apartments around the area that she can afford. She was far from poor, but if she needed to make monthly instalments to Chris, she would need to be smart with her budget. Afterall, paying someone $50 000 was not in her mind when she was making the budget for the year.

The first thing she did was book an appointment with her family doctor to confirm her pregnancy. Y/N was hoping to make the first appointment with Chris after she had told him, but now she supposed everything had to be done by herself. She went back to work the next day, refusing to stay in bed and wallow in her sorrow.

Her doctor’s appointment was on a rainy Wednesday, the weather matching her foul mood. She was grateful that they didn’t ask too many questions about the baby daddy, and instead focused on the her and the baby’s health, giving her all the information she needed.

A month after they separated, the investigation started. Y/N wasn’t sure what to think. She knew for sure she would never steal from Chris, she was adamant in proving that she was never with him for his money. But no one seemed to believe her. She couldn’t blame them. If Chris didn’t even believe her, how could she expect strangers to believe her? She did her best with giving as much information to the police as possible. They were looking into her accounts, but she was confident they wouldn’t find anything. She was positive in her innocence.

The stress was getting to her, pressure from her friends and family on why she and Chris broke up on top of the investigation was piling up. She woke up in her one bedroom apartment, a sharp pain in her abdomen. A pressure in her chest was building as an ominous feeling dawned on  her. She made a beeline to the bathroom, seeing the blood seep through her cream shorts, and she felt nauseous. She phoned her OB/Gyn in a panic, quickly washing up to Uber to her doctor. She wasn’t going to risk driving in this condition.Two long hours later, and she got her result. She had a miscarriage. While her doctor was going on with how often it happened, she tuned out. There was an empty feeling in her heart, and she wasn’t sure if it would ever be filled again.

Y/N had no time to grieve the loss of her baby because a month later the press found out about the whole investigation. After that her life became a living hell. The journalist and press were following her around like a piranha smelling fresh blood. Once the news became public that she was remotely involved in this fraud case, she was fired from her workplace with the excuse that they didn’t want to have the negative press on her team. The next few months were unbearable to say the least. Every day was harder than the previous.

Y/N left her home to do a quick grocery run, her small home was packed with paparazzis around her. She asked her lawyer a few months ago to move to a smaller apartment and somewhere she could have a small sense of security, losing her job and the payments she made to John made a considerable dent to her savings. Unfortunately, her lawyer said no. There were strict rules on what she could and couldn’t do as a part of this investigation as outlined by the court, and moving was not an option. As she was coming back, one of the journalist had gotten close to her, enough to hit her with their giant cameras.

“What do you have to say about the investigation?”

“Were you just with Chris for his money?”

“Did you steal from him?”

“Did you plan all of this?”

Questions were thrown at her, each one hitting her harder. She knew that she never had any intention of hurting Chris, even after all this time, she was no longer mad at him. Instead, she felt sorry for him. It must have been hard for him to accept that the people closest to him betrayed him, and she knew how sensitive he was to the people around him. He was always so friendly to people, and there were some that took advantage of his kindness.

“Please leave me alone,” she said, trying to avoid more cameras hitting her.

“What was that?”

“Can you repeat that?”

“Did you say to leave you alone?”

It was the first time she acknowledged them by talking to them, and they were eating it up. Now she was even more anxious. She knew not to have given them anything, Chris had told her that all the time when they were dating. Once they think they have a chance to get something out of you, they would attack and be more aggressive with their advances. Finally, she made it inside her home, quickly locking the door behind her and throwing her groceries on the kitchen counter. Once her hands were empty, she fell to her knees, tears quickly falling down her face.

-

Scott drove them both home, Chris being unfit to even get behind the wheels with his mind so jumbled.

“You gonna be okay?” Scott asked once they arrived at Chris’s farmhouse.

Chris nodded numbly, offering a forced smile. “Yea, I’ll be fine. Go on your date.”

“I can cancel-”

“Scott, really, it’s fine.” Chris punched his brother’s arm, trying to give him a semblance of his old self. “I’ll be fine. I’m good.”

“Okay. If you need anything- and I mean anything, call me, okay?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yes, mom.”

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed his duffle bag of stuff he brought when he stayed over.

Once Scott left, Chris fell to his couch. Dodger padding towards him, and throwing his toy next to him. “Not now, buddy.” He did, however, scratch the back of the canine’s ears. “I fucked up, and I gotta figure out a way to apologize to your mom.” He pulled out his phone, trying to find any sign on Y/N through her social media. She’s never been an avid user, especially once their relationship became public. He wasn’t surprised to find that she hasn’t been active since a bit before they broke up.

However, something on his Twitter caught his eye. It was a paparazzi photo of Y/N from the morning exiting a grocery store, and a few more from outside of what he assumed was her home. She was highly distressed, her sunglasses failing to hide the crease between her brows, and the way her body curled in itself. The tweet itself was hateful, telling Y/N she brought this upon herself. Chris flared with anger, seeing the replies and other tweets, all blaming her. Just like him, they didn’t hear her side of the story. He went through the journalist’s tweets, they wrote clickbait articles using her name, getting quotes from her friends and family that he knew weren’t all that truthful. One of the article broke his heart. There was a quote from her begging them to stop following her, to leave her alone, but they made a joke out of it in their writing. They weren’t interested in telling a story. They were there to just break her even more.

Chris went back to his page, and tweeted something for the first time in a few months.

<-- (Chapter 3)            (Chapter 5) -->

- Tag List - 

@lost-in-t-h-e-abyss @vogueworthy-barnes @hista-girl @tfandtws @aletteredaffair @traceyaudette @lupine-princess @songforhema @stella2445 @coffeebooksandfandom @qrndevans @straightforwardly @cesarofangirl78 @buckybarneslove76 @kaithezaftig​  @evanstush​ @ownerofthebastard​ @jadedhillon​ @ka-x-in​ @lili-ann-love​ @bulldozed88 @dolan-mendes​ @jeleners1430​ @yougurt-con-avena​ @fandomoneshots-imagines​ @patzammit​ @ramblingsnfandom​ @beanthedoggo​ @luckylightfiction​ @luckyfiction17​ @chrisevanssleeping @snave-sirhc​ @gemgemswift​ @firstangeldragonranch​ @hiddlesbitch1 @virtualmemmecollector​ @heladoom @crimeshowtrash​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @peach-acid​ @uneniffler​ @cloudyskylines​ @simmisblog​ @shikshinkwon​ @queenkronk @aubageddon91​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous​ @the-soulofdevil​ @lizblinder​ @what-is-your-wish​ @natdrunk​ @capsiclesdoll​ @genesgoingtohamslam @kapokipa666 @mom---nicole​ @cltex84​ @star-spangled-steve​ @sassyspacedust @dlb113​ @bojabee​ @iwik3it​ @samsebsblog​ @friyak1 @multireality​ @joannie95​ @mrsfox79​ @lady-x-red​ @princess-evans-addict​ @aria253264​ @fallenoutofrose​ @bitchwhytho​ @frencchfries​ @shmara100​ @honeymarvelz @jilybeanz​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @chi00072​ @youaremyfiveever​ @madisonpillstrom​ @13-reasons-ideas​ @christocrave​ @impairedmuse​ @itsallyscorner​ @bellaireland1981​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @thereisatardison221bbakerstreet @sweet--rabbit​ @samsebsblog​ @stilltoomuchafangirl​ @kaetastic​ @sweetlittlegingy​ @bigbandbombshell​ @mishagreenleaf  @shannon124​ @the-wayward-robot​

#chris evans x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans fandom #chris evans oneshot #josephine writes #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #marvel #chris x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel fics

[blackbatpurplecat]

Catwoman 80th Anniversary

In 1940, one of the now most popular comic book heroes of all time got his very first solo run. It would become a milestone in comic book history. But he wasn’t the only one who had a chance to shine. In that premiere issue, even TWO of his most famous antagonists would be introduced: The man who laughs and the woman who steals.

That woman was intended to become the love of the hero’s life. The good guy and the naughty girl, the appeal was palpable. However, she wasn’t just a love interest or a generic thief or only another villain in the ever growing gallery of rogues the hero would face over decades to come, no - she was quite the character.

Her first alias was “The Cat” which would ultimately become Catwoman. Selina Kyle, the best thief in the world, a literal cat burglar, a classy seductress and queen of sass. And fans loved her so much that over time, she grew to become just as famous as the hero.

Her story has had its ups and downs. Mostly ups. ;) Going from the pages of the comics to the little and the big screen in the 60s, then she disappeared for a while, then made a comeback. She married the hero and had a child, though that marriage was later rebooted and was followed by a depressing origin story a sexist author made up for her in the 80s.

The 90s then turned out to be her decade! She found herself on the TV screen again, animated this time. She was portrayed by a Golden Globe winner on the big screen again. And she finally got her very own solo run in comics.

Her solo title was successful enough to run for over 20 years, a time in which her development from antagonist to anti-heroine would pan out. She would be a member of several teams, dance on both sides of the law, and even have another child. The screen called her back in form of a movie and a tv show. In one she was a thief with a love for killing, in the other a teenager. And we already know that her movie career will soon continue with two more projects.

In 2016, DC rebooted their entire universe. Catwoman’s origin story was changed, her relationships were lost, her solo run got canceled. No one knew what was real anymore - and fans didn’t like it. Only a year later, a retcon followed in a pathetic attempt to restore a status quo fans were familiar with and approved of. Even her solo run came back and today, in June 2020, we celebrate her 80th anniversary!

Catwoman is my favorite DC character ever. She’s clever, she’s funny, she’s stubborn, she’s classy, she’s confident, she plays by her own rules. When written right, she is such an entertaining character, unpredictable and fun.

In 80 years, there have been countless appearances, so many incarnations and interpretations of her - sure, I didn’t like all of them but you can say there’s something for each one of us. You don’t like her in the 2010s? Check out the 90s. You don’t like her in the 40s? Check out the 80s. There’s a version of Catwoman for many different tastes. She never goes out of fashion.

So to celebrate one of DC’s most famous women, they published a collection of 10 stories in total, written and drawn by people who have had touched her character over the past years.

Did Catwoman 80th Anniversary - Celebrating Eight Decades of Beauty and Burglary do her justice?

Warning: Spoilers!

Let’s check out each story and see what the writers came up with for this very special occasion. Except for one, none of these are meant to be canon, it’s just a collection of shorts meant to emphasise why Catwoman is so good. Something I noticed was that each writer had not picked any Catwoman to write but “their” Catwoman. A nice detail. Consistency, why not? Write what you feel comfortable and familiar with. This can only help with the quality of the stories, right? ... Right? ...

Strap in folks, this is going to be a LOOOOONG post!

Story #1: Skin the Cat by Paul Dini

Selina’s just living her normal life with her cats, occasionally stealing some money and jewels. Hey, a girl’s gotta eat. ;) What catches her attention are news reports about stolen big cats. I’m a cat lover myself and this series of crimes would worry me just as much as it worries Selina. She deduces where in Gotham someone could hide those wild cats, breaks in, and is welcomed by an eerie voice - as well as the taxidermied cats. Fucking bastard... The villain Taxidermist, quelle surprise, is behind the cat murders. He now intends to gas Selina and add her to his cat collection but Selina reveals that she’d already turned off the gas before breaking in. She escapes his long knives and watches as three big cats she had brought with her attack and kill him.

What an intro! A story about Selina’s love for cats and her strategic thinking. I really liked the first half! But once the Taxidermist shows up, it loses itself in drawn out exposition. Selina goes on a long monologue to explain to the reader who the Taxidermist is, how she knew it was him, how she turned off the gas, and how she replaced three of the dead cats with alive ones. I would have preferred to actually SEE her preparations for the face-off in flashback panels instead of having to read it. It didn’t feel natural at all. Also how the fuck did she bring 3 wild cats and switch them for the stuffed ones?! How?! And when?! I’m also quite sad that she didn’t get to save the cats. That was a bummer. So all she basically did was bring 3 big cats to kill a killer.

The art’s gorgeous, nothing else to say here!

6/10

Story #2: Now You See Me by Ann Nocenti

Ann Nocenti’s name immediately made me go uh-oh... Her bad and convoluted writing style made readers drop the Catwoman books which eventually lead to the solo run’s cancelation so you can understand why I was concerned.

So Catwoman is hiding a little pouch in a pigeon loft on a roof while pondering who to sell her stolen goods to - as well as where to vacation afterwards. She then notices a surveillance camera. The scene cuts to two cops on surveillance duty. They’re both bored as hell so when one spots Selina, he quickly distracts his colleague and leaves to find her. He takes the pouch out of the pigeon loft and a fight between him and Catwoman ensues. He reveals that he wants to become her partner. He wants to feed her any intel he can see on his screens so she could steal and sells some goods, and they’d split the money. When Selina refuses, he tries to blackmail her into complying. Selina presses a button on a little device and whatever’s in the pouch the cop sacked, explodes, sending him over the edge. Luckily, he lands on an umbrella Penguin had sent off apparently because we see him in one panel, angered that his plan was foiled. I’m not entirely sure what his “brilliant plan” was supposed to be. Something with gas tanks that were strapped to the umbrella I assume? I have no idea.

This one is missing too much context for my taste. What was in the pouch? Did the explosion kill the guy? What was Penguin doing there? What was his plan? Why did we need the second cop? For a super obvious but unnecessary parallel between Catwoman vs. corrupt cop and random woman vs. random man on one of the surveillance screens? Why give Catwoman so little “screen time” and so little dialogue? Is this short story referencing anything from Nocenti’s awful run and I just forgot? To quote Val Kilmer Batman: “It just raises too many questions.”

The art’s okay, nothing too special.

3/10

Story #3: Helena by Tom King

Oh boy. This is the big one. The one everyone’s been waiting for, I guess. The man who not so long ago had promised us a BatCat wedding just to shove a huge middle finger in our faces, promised us a pregnant Selina this time. I was skeptical of course. Also other readers were convinced he’d just let Selina have a miscarriage. Well, the good news is it wasn’t a miscarriage. The bad news is he almost makes Selina seem like she would have preferred a miscarriage.

The story goes like this: Selina hasn’t been feeling well so instead of going to a doctor like a normal person, Bruce scans her head and checks her vitals and blood (I can only assume because we’re not shown). Selina’s convinced that she’s seriously ill but a gentle, hopeful smile on Bruce’s face reveals the actual truth: She is pregnant. And her first reaction is shock and denial. We cut to BatCat fighting Tweedledum and Tweedledee (I think, you can’t really see them but the two men they knock out look identical). Selina then bends over and says that she’s about to throw up. Followed by a Batbucket joke. I’m getting so tired of all the forced self-awareness, guys. We cut to Catwoman, now sporting a baby bump underneath the skin-tight leather, sitting on a roof. She prepares a glass of wine while telling the baby that it is just like Bruce and it’s such a dick for taking away her freedom. After one sip, she chucks the glass away and curses. We’re then treated to a montage of BatCat fighting several rogues while Selina’s belly grows with each panel until it’s an 8, maybe 9 months along belly. I... I have no words. Except for yes, this was written by a man. BatCat are then standing on a roof and Selina laments that she’s a thief, not a mother, and the baby will derail her life and plans. The scene switches to Bruce and Selina in bed, arguing because she’s in labor. Bruce is ready to roll while Selina is STILL in denial, crying that she’s not a mother, that she’s not a hero or a good and brave person like him. Bruce tells her she didn’t run off so that means she’s a good person and they agree that it’s time to have the baby. Another cut to Selina having to take care of a crying baby Helena, asking why she’s crying when it’s Selina’s turn to stay at home and not Bruce’s. Selina talks to Helena, saying she’s luckier than Selina was because Selina’s mom ran off. She fucking FINALLY says something nice about her own child (”You’re a cute little kitten.”) and wonders what they’re going to do with her. The last page is old Selina and grownup Helena after Bruce’s death. Selina’s complaining about the pretty cemetery while Helena likes it. Her daughter’s ability to not shit on just everything and not be a total killjoy all the time causes Selina to say again that Helena is like Bruce. Upon Helena’s question if she’s anything like her mother, Selina answers that she’s just as stubborn as her. If she wants something, she steals it. Helena asks what she ever stole and Selina delivers the last predictable cliche of the story: “You stole my heart.”

Ugh. King’s Selina is just such a boring read. She’s not charming or interesting or sympathetic. Maybe I’m too used to a fun Selina but this one’s just a drag. A heavily pregnant Catwoman fighting Joker, yeah sure, totally not absolute bullshit. And the way Selina keeps distancing herself from the child inside her? For over 9 months?! Is she going out in that ridiculous catsuit because she wants to cause a miscarriage, is that it? So she doesn’t have to make a decision like abortion, adoption or leaving the baby with Bruce? Her constant cussing over the situation and crying and whining turns the pregnancy of my favorite DC couple into such a depressing ordeal.

The art is very pretty! Thank God.

4/10

Story #4: The Catwoman of Earth by Jeff Parker

After the depressing pregnancy of Catwoman, we switch to the wacky 60s version of her. Catwoman and her henchmen are robbing a science fair when suddenly, a UFO arrives. WTF?! Four aliens and a robot are beamed down to the surface and the group’s leader, an arrogant jock-like guy proclaims that they will take over the planet and enslave humanity. Catwoman angrily stands up to him. Turns out the evil aliens are sexist too when the male one tells Catwoman females have to ask for permission to speak and the female alien in the group unhappily agrees. The jock alien tells the muscly male alien to dispose of Catwoman but she’s not easy to dispose of! She fights off the brawler, she cuts the tentacles off the tentacle alien (someone WILL jerk off to that one panel), dodges the jock’s laser gun, steals the laser gun with her whip, shoots the robot to bits, and lets the police take the males away. The female alien seems much happier now and invites Catwoman to a flight around the world in the UFO. Catwoman suggests a trip to Paris so she can loot the Louvre.

Aliens and Catwoman don’t mix. I didn’t really care for this story. I mean it’s great to see Catwoman in action and taking down four guys on her own but... aliens and Catwoman just don’t mix. It was a bit jarring to me. Also the aliens’ designs weren’t super interesting. They were basically pink elves.

The art is beautiful. Catwoman looks like Julie Newmar and the entire color scheme is very 60s.

4/10

Story #5: A Cat of Nine Tales by Liam Sharp

Catwoman’s caught stealing a diamond necklace by an armed security guard. He seems a bit scared of her but knows it’s his job to stop her. She’s not engaging in a fight - of course not, he has a gun pointed at her! So instead, Catwoman relies on her talking skills. And intimidation skills. She tells the guard that there are 9 ways their situation could play out: 1. The guard lets her tie him up and escape with the necklace. 2. She beats his ass. 3. He kills her. 4. She scratches his eyes out. 5. He slips and gets knocked out. 6. He fires his gun, misses her, and the bullet ricochets until it kills him.  7. They team up. 8. She gives up. 9. She kills him. However, the story ends with the guard fainting because Catwoman’s just so damn scary.

Very short, very simple. Even the art is simple, on one page there are 3 very similar panels with only minor changes. Nothing memorable but not too bad. It shows how Catwoman can take someone out even without touching them. It’s okay.

The art reminds me of a comic from the 80s or maybe 90s. Hard to describe why. Guess you have to see it. Again, it’s okay.

5/10

Story #6: Little Bird by Mindy Newell

Selina learns from a news report that a priceless mezuzah has been found at a flea market. It’s currently at the Jewish Museum of Gotham City and Selina immediately steals it. Later, Batman shows up at her place and asks why she wants the mezuzah. She doesn’t give him much of an answer so he leaves. Pretty pointless scene I would say. A flashback reveals that a young Selina used to live with a Jewish lady. I dunno, I guess she’s a foster mother? And the woman liked Selina so much and considered her family so she gave her that mezuzah to pass it on to her own kids one day (even though Selina doesn’t want kids, is not related to the lady, and isn’t Jewish). Back to the present, Selina’s punishing a client. That prostitute background made an unwanted comeback for this story because Selina’s resisting and denying herself love so she’s “whoring”, to prove to herself how despicable she is. Okay...? There’s an inner turmoil going on, she’s torn between selling the artefact or not. Eventually, she decides to bring the mezuzah back to the lady she used to live with. The lady’s grown old and demented, lives in a home and is at the verge of dying. Selina places an envelop between the lady’s hands and leaves. The home’s director finds the envelop which contains the mezuzah, an official document which basically ensures that the lady will be taken care of before and after her death, and a poetic note from Selina.

My least favorite story out of them all - and that is quite an accomplishment when there are King and Nocenti in the same book! It had that Frank “I’m an insane sexist racist asshole” Miller prostitute bullshit in it and Selina hating herself again. This time, the “whoring” (and this word is not me, it’s from the actual story) is used as a way of self-punishment. Because it’s disgusting and wrong and Selina only does it to torture herself. Dunno if that’s the right message you wanna send here... The Jewish lady was kinda random to me because Selina’s not Jewish and never has been Jewish. This is not a negative point, it’s just so random. And the Batman scene was pointless, I have no idea what purpose it served. Except for showing us Batman pay Selina like a john and having Selina make jokes about “whoring.” Ugh.

The art was great, very clean.

1/10

Story #7: Born to Kiln by Chuck Dixon

Going from my least favorite to my favorite story in this book!

Catwoman knows there’s a diamond in a safe on a boat that is set to leave the harbour in the morning. So she climbs aboard at night to steal the gem. She finds several dead sailors and they’re all covered in mud. Who could have done this? Yes, you guessed right - it’s Clayface! He’s already at the safe, opens it, and retrieves the big stone. Catwoman reveals herself and aims a fire hose at him. Her confidence, however, dies the moment the hose doesn’t work. Clayface swallows the diamond and starts chasing after her. There’s apparently a machine to spray-paint cars on the boat so she lures him inside, activates the paint to blind him, and the hot lamps for the drying process immobilise the big pile of mud. Now that he’s nothing more than hard clay, Catwoman takes a wrench to him and takes the freed diamond.

FINALLY a story I really, really like from beginning to end! First off, IT’S PURPLE CATWOMAN!!! Selina is wearing my favorite costume, the iconic Jim Balent suit from her 90s solo run in this story - and I LOVE IT!!! Yeah, her boobs are quite loose in it and sometimes dangle in strange ways but fuck it! LOL I prefer hanging boobs over a tight corset that should reduce her agility or a back breaking pose anytime! We get sneaky Selina, we get playful Selina, we get over confident Selina who has to think fast and run even faster, and she gets what she wants in the end without killing anyone.

The art is gorgeous! It’s very fluid and alive. I also absolutely adore the cute facial expressions on Kitten’s face, especially when she locks Clayface in. I miss Catwoman being fun. In this, she’s just adorable and not sexualised at all.

8/10

Story #8: Conventional Wisdom by Will Pfeifer

Selina finds herself at a Bat Con and is supposed to give autographs. The whole scenario seems weird and confusing to her, she doesn’t remember how she got there or what is going on. Bruce, Joker, Riddler, and Two-Face being there with her to give autographs is even weirder. And why does no one except for her react to that unconscious, bloody man on the floor?! On her way to her panel, she runs into several cosplayers which is basically only fan service. But you will find the male, dark-skinned version of me at her panel, asking when the fuck she will finally put that 90s suit back on!!! The dialogues keep breaking the fourth wall, pointing out that this story is about to end. One of the panel’s attendees looks like Marvel’s Taskmaster and another is Selina herself in her Catwoman suit. Selina slowly remembers what happened: The Taskmaster dude is Doctor Destiny, she broke into his lair and stole his reality distorter, a little machine she’s been carrying around for the entire story. She smashes the machine to wake up back in the lair and cracks her knuckles, ready to take down Doctor Destiny and his goons.

And it was all a dream! That twist has never been a favorite of mine. Even though it’s not really a twist; you know immediately that it’s a dream. We don’t learn anything new about Selina or see anything Catwoman-y in this. It’s really basically fan service. They wanted Selina to see and interact with real life fans of hers so they made it happen. She also comments on various versions of her costume. It’s cute but kinda forgettable.

The art is good, it’s rare to see light and bright colors in a Catwoman book so it was a nice change. And the cosplayers looked nice. But they could have used different body types to make the fans more diverse and visually appealing.

3/10

Story #9: Addicted to Trouble by Ram V

And here we are, the premiere of the duo that will take over Catwoman’s current solo run from #23 onward. We get a first taste of the writing and art and I must say it’s a good taste.

This short story serves as a continuation of Joelle Jones’ #21 issue where at the end of the arc, Selina and her sister Maggie left Gotham in a purple car. So we see a short recap of how they got the car and where they were headed but unfortunately, the engine dies. They hitchhike to Memphis. Selina’s frustrated that Maggie doesn’t talk to her. They get drunk and start a fight at a bar. The cops show up and arrest them. While sitting in the back of the cop car, the girls start laughing together and steal the car. They leave behind their luggage which only contains stuff they won’t miss - including Selina’s cat funeral dress. They drive back to Gotham, Selina steals food and drinks on the way, and they cuddle on a rooftop overlooking the city. The story cuts to Selina and Leandro, a character I would know if I had continued the Jones run. She tells him she wants to lay low for a while and stay out of trouble. When he asks “Oh? Really?”, Selina throws a naughty smile towards the reader. Yeah yeah, lay low my ass. :D

First off, I have no idea what happened before the road trip, I don’t know why they took it or why Maggie doesn’t talk or what the purpose of all of this was because all they do is get drunk, fight an entire bar, and go back. No idea what that accomplished. And I feel sorry for the car because it was so gorgeous. Anyway, I am happy to say that Ram V has a great writing style! He gave a good voice to Selina, it sounded very natural and like a human would talk, no forced exposition or fake deepness.

The art was good, there were a few expressive faces and the bar fight was well executed.

5/10 (because I don’t know the context)

Story #10: The Art of Picking A Lock by Ed Brubaker

Instead of ending with a transition to the next Catwoman issue (which I would have preferred), the collection offers one more story and it’s written by the man who successfully handled the second half of Selina’s first solo run. He turned her stories more into the film noir direction and gave her sidekicks. The run also gave her a fugly suit and made her have sex with old men and Brubaker wanted to kill her off and have her not know who the father to her unborn child was so... yeah, I’m torn about that guy.

The last story shows us Catwoman breaking into a warehouse full of Joker goons while thinking about the thrill of breaking locks and how she learned how to do it when she was at a juvenile detention center. She beats them all up and demands to know where “he” is. Later, her friend Holly is on a motorcycle chasing after a cab while Catwoman is riding on top of a subway. Both reach Gotham’s harbor. We see that the cab is filled with Joker gas and the driver is laughing maniacally. Holly can’t reach the cab in time and it drives off into the water. Catwoman swings down and jumps after it. She breaks the trunk open and reveals a handcuffed Slam Bradley. Cut to the three back on dry land. Holly chides him for going after Joker alone and not waiting for backup. He admits that it was dumb, then shares intel on where Joker will strike and Selina should tell “her friend.” She says she will and Slam ends the book with the words that he could really use a cigarette. NO, this book was not that good that it would warrant a cigarette at the end!

This short obviously takes place during the second half of the first solo run. We see Catwoman in action, that’s cool. Taking down almost a dozen of armed Joker henchmen, that’s pretty badass! And a woman saves the man damsel in distress at the end, that’s a nice ending as well. However, I don’t care about the costume so the visual appeal wasn’t there and I really don’t care about Slam Bradley so the reveal at the end was pretty ugh to me.

The art is great! It’s like a modernised/smoother version of Darwyn Cooke’s style, the artist Brubaker worked on the Catwoman title in the 00s with. So that gives it a pretty nostalgic feel. 

5/10

In addition to the 10 stories we’ve now covered, there are pages to show off the Catwoman costumes of each decade as well as pinups. The costume pages are designed in the decade’s style (the 40s are black and white, the 60s psychedelic etc). But what I don’t get about the 90s one: It’s purple Catwoman grayed out in the background and gray BTAS Catwoman in color in the foreground - why make the purple outfit gray when you have an already gray outfit?! Just switch them! Also who put together the 70s one, couldn’t they find better costume examples?!

The seven pinups are pretty, unfortunately the majority feature the black outfits. I was surprised that even Tim Sale drew the black costume and not the purple one from his Long Halloween series. We get one of the gray BTAS costume and Jim Balent thankfully gives us BatCat with his purple creation. Nice!

Well, looking back at my personal scores for this collection of stories, Catwoman’s anniversary issue reached a total of 44/100 points in my book. Wow. That’s... not that good.

Most of the stories ranged from average to bad. Nothing spectacular, nothing memorable. There’s a lack of witty dialogue, Catwoman’s rarely fun to watch. In six stories she’s seen fighting, in three she’s seen being chased so I’m missing the variety here. I would assume you can do more with Catwoman than that. She often rather fights instead of using her wits and smarts. And actual cats are only featured in two stories but in one they die and in the other, Selina says she should drown them. -_- 

A collection of 10 new stories was a great idea but celebrating the character this is not. I’m happy that the next writer for Catwoman left a positive impression on me and the story feat. Balent’s Catwoman was a delight. However, the writers didn’t really bring their “A” game for this anniversary issue which is disappointing.

Would I recommend it? Hmmm. It pains me to say: not really, no. You don’t miss much by skipping it. You don’t miss sassy lines or breathtaking art, you don’t miss out on funny scenes or emotional depth. This anniversary issue is merely average and I highly doubt I’ll go back to reread it.

(a huge THANK YOU to everyone who read this entire, way too long post! i highly appreciate it 💜you’re a real trooper!)

#catwoman #review

[vmheadquarters]

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Seven of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @nevertothethird​​. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.28 from @his-beautiful-girl​ - tag, you’re it!

_____________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN by @nevertothethird​

“So, what’s our first move?” Logan asked.

Such a simple question, Veronica mused, and one she couldn’t immediately answer. If she took the book to the Sheriff’s station, she’d be bringing along with her a hunch they would likely ignore. There was also a chance, even if someone in the department believed her, that Ruby’s manuscript would go missing. While Neptune’s sheriff’s department wasn’t explicitly mentioned throughout the book, there were ample alluded-to miscarriages of justice that could be traced back to them.

And, on a purely selfish level, Veronica didn’t exactly relish the idea of sitting across from Sheriff Dan Lamb in order to explain her theory. She’d risk having his mockery directed at her in relation to the number of times her sexual assault was mentioned throughout Ruby’s book. Been there, done that with the other Lamb brother. No thank you.

She needed to regroup. “I think we head home, and –”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to veto that one.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I was leading the witness.”

Veronica frowned. “Why can’t we go home?”

“Because about a year ago, you and I were photographed with Ruby. Together. At the 09er.”

She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Shit.”

“And if I know Neptune –” Logan continued.

“Then all of Neptune is currently waiting for us at our apartment.”

“Well,” Logan said, his face scrunched in concentration, “maybe half of Neptune.” He gestured to the front door of Mars Investigations. “The other half is outside.”

“You’re not being serious?”

He shook his head. “Been a while since I’ve been able to use my ‘no comment’ face walking through a crowd. I did not miss it.”

Veronica pitched forward, and Logan wrapped his arms back around her waist. “Why do we live here?”

“Pony likes the beach.”

God. Ruby. Maybe book-Dick Casablancas had a point. Maybe getting close to her was dangerous. “Someone killed Ruby. Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the small of her back in comfort.

“Suggestions on places we could go to get some work done?”

“Dick is surfing Trestles this week.”

She nodded. “You drive. I’ll call my dad on the way.”

***

Safely ensconced at Dick’s beach house, Veronica and Logan had lined the perimeter of the living room with sticky flip chart pages. Written at the top of each page was the name of a “character” from Ruby’s book, and under the name they’d listed every fact mentioned in the book about that character. From the most well-known details (Veronica transferred to Stanford for sophomore year) to the couldn’t possibly be true (Ruby’s family owning a murder-mystery house on an island somewhere between Montana and southern California).

At the bottom of Duncan’s page, she scrawled ‘believed he killed Lilly’ and put the cap on her marker. They were only halfway through Ruby’s book, and the ever increasing amount of information was overwhelming. Everything could be a clue, or nothing could be a clue. “This is insane.”

Logan took a bite of panang curry, shaking his head. “This version of Duncan is really not my biggest fan.”

She placed the page back on the stack. “If it’s any comfort, he doesn’t really seem to be a fan of mine, either.” Veronica grabbed a red marker. “Okay, so let’s start making some connections. Starting with you.”

“Must we?”

She ignored him and looked at the list of facts related to book-Logan’s history, focusing on those that couldn’t be gleaned from casual conversation.

●      San José State University

●      Dylan Goran

●      Hidden cameras in the Echolls pool house

●      Madison

●      “Recent sibling struggles with Trina”

“Dylan Goran is the one that confuses me,” Logan said. “The guy and Trina dated for a second. How could Ruby know about that?”

“When did you apply to San José State?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“And sophomore year of college? Did you and Trina have ‘sibling struggles’?”

“Nothing more than usual.”

“So how is it that Ruby could get stuff like this –” she circled Madison’s name, and then on her page circled that she’d cheated on Leo with Logan, “so right, but other stuff –” She underlined the name “Sue,” the name of book-Veronica’s therapist, “so wrong?”

“Maybe your first instinct was right: Ruby had a collaborator.”

“Yeah, but how is it so scattershot?” Veronica asked. “I mean, I didn’t even know where Duncan went to when he fled.” She pointed to the page with Duncan’s name on it. “Is it really possible he went to Australia? Is he still there?”

Logan shrugged. “No idea. But the idea that Kane money made immigration problems go away seems plausible.”

“Well, I hope that Kane money fixed the extradition problem, too.” Veronica dropped the marker on the coffee table and flopped on the couch. “I don’t think Ruby had any idea what she was doing here. She was playing with powerful people’s secrets.”

“You know what they say about truth and fiction,” Logan said.

“Yeah. It can get you fucking killed.”

She leaned forward for a coconut prawn. Something wasn’t clicking. Some of Ruby’s information was so specific, so protected, even Veronica would have had a hard time accessing it.

Say the source was in law enforcement: that would make sense of how they had access to a case file, or personnel file, mentioning an ATF agent’s connection to Norris Clayton. But what would a cop or FBI agent care about the more salacious parts of Ruby’s book? Why would they care about Carrie’s first performance on SNL? Why would a cop make up a story about Piz getting hit by a bus? Or dedicate thousands of words to a person named Jen who, as far as she and Mac knew, didn’t exist.

“Well,” she said, standing back up, this time with a green marker in hand. “We can at least eliminate some of the suspects.” On the character pages for Gia, Susan, Ruby, and Carrie, she placed a green x at the top of each page.

“Cole, too,” Logan said. “Died in a drunk driving accident a couple years after high school.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. Thank God.”

She was back to fixating on the list of facts about Logan. The juxtaposition between the true fact that Logan had shitty, drunk sex with Madison, something so hyper-specific and personal, and the blatant falsehood about which college he attended was confounding.

“You know what this all reminds me of?” Logan asked.

She kept her eyes on the flip chart pages. “What?”

“TMZ. And other bullshit websites like that.”

Now he had her attention. “How so?”

“Well, obviously, they completely whiff on stories. Like that thing with Li’l Wayne a few years ago. But every now and again, they get it right. And no one understands how.”

“A gossip reporter wouldn’t care so much about the emotional stuff, though.” She gestured to the pages. “There are full chapters in there where you and I talk through every problem in our relationship. But then tucked in, out of nowhere, are these little asides. It’s almost like –” she trailed off.

She felt that pull in her gut – the one that told her she was close to something. There was something about the way Ruby’s story was framed, the layers of mundanity alternated with seedy gossip and fabrications.

On Logan’s page, she underlined Dylan Goran’s name. “Who knew about him?”

“Trina. Me. You. Aaron.” He paused. “Dylan, obviously.”

 She nodded. “He could have told someone.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if it was mentioned somewhere in one of Aaron’s unauthorized biographies.”

“Same thing with Madison,” she said, pointing to the name. “Madison could have talked. Or, maybe a front desk clerk in Aspen. Or one of the other 09ers who was there.”

“Casey was there. Luke, too.”

“Do me a favor?” she asked. “Google your name and San José State. I want to see what comes up.”  

Logan saluted her and reached for his phone.

A source. Ruby had a source, but not one in law enforcement. A source. A source with the kind of access a gossip columnist might have. But a source who wanted more than that: they wanted the story behind the story. Someone like –

“Shit,” Logan said.

She turned around; the pull in her gut grew stronger. “What?”

“I can’t remember why, but back in college Dick and I fucked off to San José for a few days. He met a girl at a party, and we dropped her off at work the next day.” Logan handed her his phone.

The headline from some creepy celebrity stalking site he’d pulled up read: Logan Echolls, future Spartan? The accompanying photo was of him and Dick walking out of the admissions office of San José State.

“We’re not dealing with a gossip columnist, Logan.”

If everything Ruby subtly referenced got out – the degree to which the Kanes manipulated systems for Duncan, corruption within all levels of the local government, connections to the Russian Mob – it would take down most of Neptune.

“I think someone is writing a Neptune tell-all.”

“And the author is Ruby’s source.”

“Or Ruby found some other way to access the author’s manuscript.”

“Which would make whoever the author is a suspect,” Logan said.

 “Either way, we know who the publisher is.”

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

[sweetst24]

Inside - part 2

This is part 2 of Inside. I'm not really sure how many parts this will have. WARNINGS WILL CHANGE AS THE STORY PROGRESSES.

Warning: panic attacks, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, everyone knows except you...

As time went on we were screwing like rabbits. Daytime, nighttime, in my room, in his room, in the living room, in the empty rooms, in the garage. No place or time was off limits, except when Dean was in the room of course. Except that one time where he screamed and left the room while we were making out. Good choice because we were not stopping.

Everything was good. When we weren't hunting, he was deep inside me so that was a plus. The only issue was we hadn't discussed his feelings and my lack of expressing any. I could see it bothered him, especially since there was no PDA, except when we on the verge of screwing the life out of one another. But I didn't mind. I knew how I felt and how he felt. Well at least I thought I knew.

-present-

Stirring, I realize I fell asleep, but stopped once I heard the brothers muttering to each other.

"What do you mean lock you in the garage? You sound insane. She doesn't need anymore crap. Let her just eat, shower, and shit before you lay into her again, Sammy." Dean sounds completely shocked by Sam's behavior, finding himself defending me.

"This is y/n, Dean. I'm not going to let her bottle everything up when she should be talking to me. Shouldn't you agree? Our situation lately has been so fucked and I can feel her not grieving, not accepting anything. I told her I loved her so many times... I just can't let her keep hurting Dean. Not again," Sam said with a quiet conviction that made me smile.

"Ahhh, shit Sammy. You can't... *Sigh* Look. At least we're home. Just go easy on her. Everyone grieves differently Sammy," Dean says as he puts Baby in park. We've finally reached the bunker, less relieved than I wanted to be.

Once the door slammed, Sam said my name with a slight annoyance that I didn't particularly like.

"Oh, we're here. So. Are you gonna let me leave the car or," I feigned innocence while Sam's face began to plea with me, jaw tight and eyes closed.

"What are you doing? Why aren't you home with me, mourning, grieving? Huh? I told myself you just needed some space but it's only been two weeks, y/n. And then you pull this crap. Tell me what's going on," Sam, eyes watery, hands shaking, looked as if he was going to completely lose control and strangle me.

"I... I just can't. I don't want to feel it, Sam. I... I... I..." I stutter, at a loss for words. But before I could continue

"Say it! Say it, y/n! Our babies died! You can't even!"

"I know, Sam. I know," suddenly, I was more exhausted, feeling all the pain of that night. Remembering how sick I felt... And how everything went to shit.

-flashback-

"Y/n! Y/n, where are you! Dean's back with Cas, they brought Chinese!" As he passed the bathroom door, Sam heard me crying, more like sobbing, so he banged on the door.

"Y/n! Y/n, what's wrong? You've been hiding the entire time they were gone... Why are you crying? Please open the door. You have the count of three before I..." Sam didn't stand a chance as I slammed passed him, anger all over my face, slamming the door to my bedroom. "What the hell did I do," Sam mutters to himself.

Little did he know, the feeling I was expressing wasn't exactly anger, but frustration. I'd missed my period. By a lot. It had been at least eight weeks before I realized I hadn't had one. My frustration was with myself, for not being careful, for screwing everything up. I knew Sam loved me and I loved him, though I never said it back. But something inside of me told me that as soon as he found out, I would be told to leave. To keep me safe, to keep Sam's baby safe, and that I couldn't agree with. As I sat on my bed having an imaginary argument in my mirror, I didn't realize that Sam had picked the lock and was standing beside me with a plate of veggie chow mein, my favorite, until the smell hit my nostrils and I ran to the bathroom.

-

Sam, extremely confused, went to library to Cas to see the if his new found suspicions could be confirmed. "Hey Cas. Y/n has been acting weird. Has she said anything to you?"

"No, Sam. You need to speak to her. I will not provide any assistance in your relationship with y/n." Cas stated with a look of knowing on his face. Castiel has known about the babies, two girls, since the moment he said hello to y/n about seven weeks prior. As an angel, he knew not to meddle in the hunter's personal affairs after the last time, revealing her extreme sexual feelings towards Sam over dinner a year prior.

"But Cas she's been sick, and angry. Could you just give her a once over to make sure it's nothing serious?" Sam's puppy dog eyes almost broke Castiel, but he bit back, standing in defiance.

"I will not discuss y/n's personal matters with you. Ask her yourself," Cas retorted, smug as ever.

Just then, Jack walks into the room, box of chow mein in his hand. "Are you talking about y/n? She'll be better soon. Morning sickness should ideally only last for a few more weeks. She'll be fine."

"Jack!"

As Jack was talking, Dean stood from his chair with a giant grin on his face.

Then everyone suddenly fell silent at the sound of y/n's door slamming shut. The seconds sounded like minutes as y/n stomped her way down the hallway toward the garage. "I'm going to the store. I'm taking your car. No you can't come with me. Whatever you guys are talking about behind my back you can all just kiss my black ass!" Slam!

It took Sam a second to realize that he couldn't allow his PREGNANT girlfriend to drive to the store at night alone. Sam ran to the garage yelling for y/n but it was no use, she peeled out faster than he ever saw anyone before.

-

I walked into the local convenience store completely on edge about the last hour of my life. How had I gone so far? I was lost in Sam for so long. How will I do this without him?

As I got up to the register, I noticed my favorite cashier was working tonight.

"Yasss! I had a feeling I would see you tonight! Wait, what's wrong girl! You look terrible!"

"Thanks a lot Justice. You didn't have to be such a bitch about it." I snapped, slightly more annoyed than I should've been.

"Damn, girl. I didn't mean to make you mad or nothing. I was just messin wit you," Justice said, showing hurt in her facial features.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to lie, I feel terrible. My boobs hurt. I'm super late. My going insane. What if he doesn't want this? Doesn't want me?" I absentmindedly rambled while picking up snacks.

Picking up a pregnancy test from behind the counter, Justice held my hand. "Y/n I'll tell you right now, that moose you call your man loves you more than life itself. If he knew how you felt right now, on the inside, I'm sure he would be standing right beside you. Just be honest with him."

With a big hug, I walked out of the store, pregnancy test one hand, snacks in the other, not ready to face the music.

-

I drove around for an extra hour, ignoring Sam and Dean's calls, unable to find the words to explain where I've been. As I pulled into the bunker I knew something was up because a car was gone and Jack was sitting alone on a chair in Baby's parking spot. As I got out of the car, Jack pulled out Sam's other cell phone.

"Sam said to call as soon as you got out of Baby."

"No. Jack. Give me an extra ten minutes before you call judge, jury, and executioner to stand on my neck. I've had a long enough night without being screamed at too."

"I'm pretty sure he won't scream though, especially because of the Ba-aad weather," Jack said, looking super suspicious.

"Jack? What is it?"

"Nothing y/n. Nothing. Just relax and take your time. I'll call Sam in ten minutes."

"Okay. But you're explaining later," I pointed at Jack as I walked over to my room, dropping onto my bed, not looking forward to the rest of my evening.

I immediately rummage through my snack bag, pulling out the teal box that held the answer to the question of the day. I walked over to the bathroom, locked the door, and got to work. All three tests from one box sat on the edge of the tub as the timer on my phone counted every second.

"Y/n! Y/n!" I heard Sam screaming my name and running toward the bathroom from the garage.

Bang, bang, bang!!

"Y/n, please open the door! I love you, please!!" Sam pled through the door. Unbeknownst to him, I was currently ignoring all the screaming as I sat in complete shock at the three positive pregnancy tests. I felt sick. I felt hot. I felt out of control. Before I could stop myself, I was on all fours on the floor having a complete and utter black out panic attack. As consciousness started to fade in slow motion, the last thing I saw was Sam standing in the doorway yelling my name...

-

Y/n fainted in front of me. I just watched my pregnant girlfriend lose consciousness while staring at three positive pregnancy tests. What is my life? Y/n still hasn't woken up. Castiel said she's okay, just in shock. But I can't shake the image out of my head. So, I'm laying in bed next to her, just watching her sleeping peacefully.

"Hey Sammy. You gotta eat something man," Dean hands me a plate with a sandwich on it while I sit up, immediately putting it on the nightstand next to me.

"Dean. What am I going to do? I just watched her fall. How am I going to protect her?" As I begin to cry Dean does something unexpected: he hugs me.

"Hey hey, Sammy. You won't be alone. You have all of us. And the most important people to us are y/n and those babies, okay. You don't need to worry. We're here, man." Dean holds me as I sob over y/n's sleeping body, praying to Chuck that everything is okay.

#sam winchester x black!reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural

[haydenbarnes]

wrath & redemption | self para

His hand wrapped around the cold metal handle of the door that led into the soundproofed room in the back end of Labyrinth. There was always a moment of hesitation before he opened this particular door. He always knew what was on the other side, so it wasn’t a hesitation that came from apprehension, but one that came from a moral dilemma as to whether he was the kind of man who could one day walk away unscathed from this kind of business. At this point in time, the devil on his shoulder had much more of an influence than the angel. So, once again, he opened the door to the grunts and groans of a cheating, sleazy man.

The room was small, the only decor available was a couple of grey metal cabinets with locks on and a stool that sat dead center. Foam echo-proof padding donned the walls, making sure that the highly illegal goings-on of Labyrinth stayed firmly between him, the subject, the Doctor they paid to sit in the room next door just in case, and the bouncer who brought the cheater here and stopped Hayden from crossing a point of no return. 

Pleading eyes, filled with fear stared at Hayden as he picked up the white knuckle wrap from the side and slowly began pacing the room, bandaging his hands. He had tape over his mouth, so he couldn’t actually talk, but the groans that came from hostage definitely sounded like a mix of ‘please don’t do this’, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘what the fuck is happening?’. 

“You’re probably wondering what the fuck is happening, right?” Hayden finally spoke as he dropped down so that his eyes were level with whoever this over-compensating wall-street-wishing wannabe CFO was. It was as their eyes met that Hayden had to just completely shut off his moral compass. It was as their eyes met that Hayden felt that flood of adrenaline surge through his body that made him not only want to do this but made him need it. 

“Well,” he chuckled as he finished wrapping his hands and threw the tape off to one side. “I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll tell you why you’re here if you can tell me why you think it’s okay to walk around this casino’s blackjack tables with a 21 card duo up your sleeve,” he challenged with a sinister smile as he slowly began to peel the tape off his skin. “Ahh-- and save the screaming, okay? This is, like, all soundproofed and I literally just had to take an Advil before this. Migraines suck am I right?” With that, Hayden ripped the tape off the man’s mouth in one quick action.

He yelled out in pain, his body tensing up as he tried one more time to free his hands from the rope that tied them to the chair. “What the fuck is this place?” He cried, his eyes watering as his lips went a shade of red Hayden thought was only possible in cartoons. “So I tried to make a fast fucking buck! I’m fucking broke man! I can barely afford my mortgage! What?! Are you gonna-- Are you gonna kill me for that?” The man was shaking, and as Hayden’s eyes glanced down to his crotch, he realized the dude had wet himself as well. Clearly, this was his first shakedown. 

“No, I’m not going to kill you, you fucking moron,” Hayden scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning around to the bouncer who couldn’t help but smirk. “What? I look like a murderer?” Hayden turned back to the cheater. “No-- don’t be a fuckin’ tool, we just bring shitbags like you back here to make sure you don’t come back here again-- so, tell me, princess, have you learned your lesson?” 

“Sure! Sure! I w-won’t... You think I’m gonna come back to this place? None of us will come here! Not me, not my buddies--” WHACK. Hayden’s fist smacked across the guys' face, his knuckles tearing through a part of his cheekbone. “What the fuck was that f--”

“Your buddies aren’t gonna know about this, hotshot. You hear me?” Hayden stood up and went to turn around, but then quickly pivoted back around, fist slamming square into the dude’s jaw, sending blood everywhere. Quickly, Hayden grabbed a chunk of his hair, his knee pushed down hard into the man’s genital area and he closed the gap between them to mere inches. “Listen to me, you fucking idiot. If I hear one little whisper of you telling anyone about this room, about me, about this casino? If you even think about calling a lawyer, or going to the press, or badmouthing Labyrinth Casinos or Ainsley Slater’s name in any way at all, I will rain down on you like FUCKING hellfire! DO I MAKE MYSELF CRYSTAL FUCKING CLEAR?!” Hayden yelled, causing the guy to start crying uncontrollably and nod over and over again. “Good,” he smiled as he took a few steps back from the chair. 

“So tell me-- er,” Hayden turned around to the bouncer as he pointed back to the man. “What’s this dude’s name?” 

“Clive.”. 

“Of course it is...” Hayden took a deep breath and rolled his eyes before turning back. “So tell me, Clive, what happened tonight? Why’s your face all busted up?” 

“I-I-I---” 

Hayden groaned and threw his hands up in the air which caused the guy to flinch so badly that he fell over backward, hitting his head on the concrete behind him. “Fucking IDIOT,” Hayden grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back up before slapping his cheek a couple times. “Answer my fucking question, asshole. What happened tonight? What’s up with your face, besides it being ugly as fuck?” 

“I was-- I was at the casino,” he flinched, but then kept going when the hit didn’t come. “I was at the casino a-and I got too drunk... I got kicked--”

“No, you didn’t get kicked out, did you?”

“N-- No, I left the casino a-and I went to a club?” He stuttered. Hayden nodded, moving his hand in a ‘and?’ motion. “A-And I got in a fight with someone there b-because I was-- I spilled a drink on him.”.

“There... That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Hayden smiled as he ruffled the guy's hair to just patronize him just a little bit more. “Well,” he clapped his hands together. “I think he’s learned his lesson, and I think we’re done here,” Hayden nodded as he began to unwrap his knuckle tape. “The Doc will just check you over then you’re free to go, dude. Just remember,” Hayden dropped down to whisper in his ear. “We have your credit card details, your full address and your name. You speak a word of this and I will find you, and who knows, maybe I do look like a murderer.” Hayden stood back up and rose his eyebrows at the man who was now just a quivering mess covered in sweat, blood and piss. 

The bouncer knocked on the only other way in and out of the room and the Doctor came in. Hayden zoned out at that point, throwing the tape into the bin and exiting through the door he came in from. As quickly as he was able to shut his emotions off for the job, once the deed was done, they came flooding back in. His hands started shaking so he pocketed them as he made his way through the back corridors of the casino, head down so no-one would speak to him and delay his getting to fresh air. The sound of the fire door slamming open against bins echoed through his head, the cold late night air danced across his face and through his hair. He sighed. He swallowed. 

The sound of quick footsteps approaching him caused him to finally look up, and as he did he saw the bloodied man running down the back alleyway to freedom. Their eyes locked onto each other and it felt like everything suddenly went into slow motion, he could feel the fear and hurt he’d caused. It all sped back up again as he shouted something like ‘don’t come near me’, as he almost tripped over his own feet before taking the first turn off he came to. Then, once again it was just Hayden, alone, in the middle of the night with bruising knuckles and the guilty weight on his conscience. 

Hayden pulled his hood up and made his way out of the alley and out into the city. He took a long way home so he could avoid the town center in a hope that he wouldn’t bump into anyone he knew, or anyone at all really. His mind spun with what had just happened. What number was that now? Was that his-- tenth? Fifteenth? He was beginning to lose track. It was easier to deal with it when the guy he was beating up was a total asshole when they were spitting at him and smirking and trying to make the job hard. It was easier to justify what he was doing, those guys deserved being brought down a peg or two, didn’t they? But that guy? He’d wet himself before Hayden even walked in. He could have just said boo and he wouldn’t have said anything or come back again. But, he’d set a precedent for himself now. It’s what was expected. But that didn’t justify what he did at all... Not with him. 

He came to the edge of the park. It was the final stretch of his journey home. Ten minutes and he could just drink himself to sleep. But, then he happened to notice the flickering lights of the church on the corner. He’d walked this way a couple times before, and he’d even done in the daytime, but he’d never noticed that church before. Hayden’s relationship with religion was complicated, to say the least. He couldn’t bring himself to believe in God as a master creator and overseer of every human action. There were too many immoral wrongs and unfair miscarriages of justice in the world for him to believe that. But, there had to be something. There had to be some force that connected everyone and everything, right? Otherwise, what was the point in love or friendship or compassion? Otherwise... Why did he feel so bad about what he was doing right now? Why did he feel like he had sinned?

Hayden found himself walking into the church before his mind had even made the decision to go in. Despite it being 1 in the morning, candles still burned on vigil’s dotted down the edges of the pews. The sound of plainsong and Gregorian chants played gently through the speakers. He let out a heavy breath and looked back at the front door. What was he doing? He wasn’t worthy of redemption. The sound of muttering prayers broke through the music and caused him to look back into the church. A man sat on a cushion in front of the altar, hands pushed together, head back, eyes closed. Hayden furrowed his eyebrows and once again his feet began to walk him down the aisle before his mind decided on the action. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed nervously, eyes firmly on who he guessed was the priest. Who else would be in front of the alter this time at night? Hayden slid into a pew a couple rows back from the front and pushed his hands into his pockets. He nipped at the inside of his mouth. Maybe he could try that; praying. Maybe that would take the weight off his shoulders a little bit. Maybe there was something or someone that could help. He doubted it, but maybe... Maybe...

He closed his eyes and tried to clear the images that immediately projected onto his eyelids. But, as he tried to clear his mind, he couldn’t help but begin to actually hear what the man was saying. He couldn’t catch it word for word, but he heard the word sorry. He heard him ask for forgiveness. He heard him speak about a boy. He heard the word cancer. He heard the word cheating. He heard the word deserves. Then he heard ‘I know even gambling is a sin, and I’m sorry, please forgive me.’. Hayden’s eyes shot open and he stood up so fast he almost knocked the pew in front of him over. His chest rose and fell at the same rate as if he’d just run a marathon. The man jumped and turned around and there he was. His face still stained in blood. His lip swollen. 

“I--” Hayden’s words got trapped in his throat. He went white as a sheet. He wanted to throw up. “I’m sorry... I’m--” Hayden shook his head as he shuffled out of the pew back into the aisle with his hands up as if he was surrendering to the cops. “I-- I didn’t tail you here, it’s-- I-- I’m sorry,” Hayden was the one stuttering now, his were the eyes that filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered one last time before backing up a few paces then turning and running out of the church. 

He ran through the park, the sound of his own breath so loud it was as if his head was inside a boombox that was playing it. How could he even think for a moment someone like him could possibly find redemption? How could he even think for a moment someone like him could find peace? There was no peace or redemption in the world for a man like Hayden Barnes. For a man that got his own Father murdered. For a man that abandoned his best friend. For a man that gives up at every thing he’s ever started the moment things get hard. For a junkie. 

His door slammed against the wall as he kicked it open. His mind was going so fast he couldn’t understand a single thought other than the one that repeated itself over and over, louder and louder. He needed a fix. He needed the dope. He had some. For emergencies. Drawers went flying across the room as he tried to find where he’d put the bag until; bingo. He held it up against the light, a sigh of relief as he spent a moment just looking at it before snapping back into action. He grabbed everything he needed to cook it up and use it. And within minutes, he pushed it into his veins. And within minutes, he was out. 

That was his redemption. Heroin was his God. 

#tw; abuse #tw; assault #tw; violence #tw; heroin #tw; needle mention #self para

[savinscripts]

❝ Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die life is a broken-winged bird, that cannot fly. ❞

TW: Assault, Miscarriage

Unfortunately, they had to return. A week more on the island, spent with Damien and Cat (who had taken a great shine to each other) and getting up to several other habits before they had to pack their bags and apparate back to England. Things hadn’t seemed to have changed much or so it seemed, but Fane couldn’t help the crawling unease and paranoia since his conversation with the Russian. He’d taken note of the name on the card which burned up once he had read it; William Shaw, a young wizard operating out of London himself from what Fane could find. Faye had returned to the case, enlisting Fane’s aid when needed but it seemed as if their leads had turned up next to nothing except a few leads that panned into nothing remarkable. Suspicious in Fane’s opinion and to him, even more of an indicator there was someone tampering with whatever was being uncovered.

Tonight they had a night in, presently at Fane’s residence in Knockturn where he was cooking dinner and Faye was pawing over casefiles. Rain pitter-pattered down the windows as Fane methodically stirred a sauce on the stove lost in thought, one particular thought that he’d had more and more lately. I don’t think we should stay here. “How many times are you going to go over those files Faye? They say the wands didn’t match any of those reported stolen… Whoever has been tampering with things must’ve gotten to this too… If they’ve been so careful up until now they won’t have suddenly made a mistake and left a clue...” He knew it was futile. She wouldn’t put them down for anything, not when they had been certain that it would trace back to something that would shift the case forwards.

Faye had nearly lost her shit right in the middle of the Ministry when she had read the reports from the wand office. “Inconclusive evidence my fucking arse,” she’d said, slapping the file closed and storming towards her office. “A first year with half a brain can cast a proper Priori. What the bloody fuck are they paying these idiots for if they can’t trace a fucking stolen fucking wand back to the last user? Or the last spell that was cast.” Faye had slammed her office door, upsetting a pile of new case files (that were promptly spelled up and returned to their sender because apparently someone had forgotten this was her only case right now) on her desk, and tossed the report across the room. “Goddammit…”

That hadn’t been a good day. All their waiting. All their hard work. Faye nearly getting molested and Fane almost killing a man. For what? Inconclusive fucking evidence.

Now, Faye sat at the table at Fane’s, looking over the files. Again. Because there had to be something. She wasn’t a newbie. She had to be missing something. Something important.

Faye glanced up at his comment, knowing he was right. But her eyes fell back to the files. “They always make a mistake,” she murmured. A second or two passed before she huffed in irritation (at the files, not at Fane) and let her head fall into her hands. “Whoever modified this evidence is on the inside. We know that much. You have to be to get access to restricted files. You can’t even get into the wand office without a badge. Or without being escorted by someone who has one. I just-” She looked up at him again. “Who would do this? Who would sabotage all this work we’ve done? Everything we’ve done to-” Her words cut off, and she pushed up from the table. She snagged two wine glasses from the cabinet and set to pour them each a glass. When she lifted her to her mouth, the smell of the alcohol gave her pause. Faye made a face. “I think this bottle’s turned…” she said. “Smells off.”

Fane had hardly been surprised when they had been handed the report that the evidence they had turned up had proven to be inconclusive. They had both known that people were working on the inside, and this simply went to prove that their access was higher than anyone could have anticipated. Either that or they were smart about however they had gone about tampering with the records. So seeing Faye pawing over them at the dining room table caused Fane to sigh under his breath. When would it stop?

Would it ever stop?

“Where has the mistake been Faye? Give me one… one moment they made a mistake, one moment that hasn’t seemingly been planned or orchestrated for us to come up against yet another dead end?” Fane’s movements were a little sharper when he spoke then, frustration from being back here bleeding over into his words. “We never should’ve come back,” he muttered under his breath stirring the pot a little faster then. But hearing the scrape of the chair Fane looked over at her and the bottle. The wine in hand caused him to frown, “but that’s only just been opened.” He reached out a hand for the glass “lemme try it.“ Once the glass was handed over he took a sip and frowned, “don’t know what you mean… This is fine.”

Faye clenched her jaw as Fane grew frustrated with her. Though she couldn’t blame him. When they’d come home, the change in both of them had been apparent. Fane brooded more, and Faye obsessed more over the case. Part of her (a tiny part) wanted to throw her hands up and say fuck it. Let it be someone else’s problem. But they were so close. She could feel it. If only they could get over this huge fucking hump.

She heard what he muttered, but kept her own mouth shut. The last thing she wanted was a row. This case had drained her. She’d felt exhausted since they came back. Falling asleep as soon as she hit the pillow almost every night. “We got that image from the bird,” she said in regards to whoever was behind this making a mistake. “Though that led to fuck all.” As had everything else.

The wine was handed over, and Faye moved to get a glass of water instead. “Smells bad. Sour.”

Fane watched on as it all unravelled, Faye spiralling deeper into her obsession over this case that seemed to keep turning up dead ends. And maybe, just maybe… it was a good thing. That this was going no where. Maybe it would mean she would finally throw in the towel, because as much as Fane loved her he couldn’t deny the fear he had about what getting close to whoever did this might result in. This was all proof someone near to them was already working against them and until (or if) they ever found out who it was they spent their lives paranoid about what lay around every corner.

About who might be following or seeking harm on those they cared for. Fane could barely stand to leave the room Faye was in, fearful for what might happen. It was a frustrating habit, his lingering but his fear was an ever-present companion that Fane couldn’t bring himself to shake. While Faye had been conducting her official investigations, Fane had put out feelers of his own and the things he had found (few that they were) left him feeling even more sure that he wanted this to be over.

“Well I’m sorry it wasn’t enough for you or this fucking dead end investigation,” Fane was tired too, worry and paranoia making sleep hard to come by unless he’d smoked himself out entirely and even then it was proving harder than normal to sleep in his worry over Faye. “We never should have come back to any of this… Why can’t we just… leave Faye? Let someone else try to figure it out...” in reality it wasn’t just his tiredness that fuelled the statement, his fear for her security was the largest driving factor around and very little would change it.

Fane glanced at the wine as he set the glass aside, “you must be getting ill or something, the wine’s fine.”

Faye knew she was teetering on the edge of being in too deep. That it was once again leaking over into the private life. But they’d done so much, come so far… suffered through so much in regards to this case… giving it up now would make it all worth nothing. Wouldn’t it?

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she snapped back. “That bit was brilliant.” Faye wasn’t saying that to try and stroke his ego. It had been brilliant. Pushing the limits of what magic could do. “The fact that it led us to the wands that led us nowhere isn’t your fault.” She sighed. “It’s mine.”

Looking over, she frowned. “I’ve told you why. Because I don’t trust anybody else with this. You are the only person I trust completely, Fane. The only one. And you’ve been so… so resistant to all this since we came back. You knew this was waiting.” Ironically, and perhaps tragically as well, it was Faye’s worry for Fane that was her main drive to see this case through to the end. Her desire to see him safe. To not have to watch their backs for the rest of their lives. A life she wanted to spend with him.

“I don’t feel ill. Not really.” The episode of not feeling well back on the island had only lasted the night. So Faye had blamed it on the blue drink. “I’m just... tired… all the time,” she half-laughed, rubbing her eyes. After a moment, she looked back up. “I think I’m going down to the Department of Mysteries tomorrow. Maybe there’s something there that can help us.”

If letting it go would mean getting a chance to leave and live their lives then Fane, for once in his life, was willing to consider it. He’d spent his life running and now all he wanted was to wash his hands of the responsibility of having to uphold other’s laws. Laws that had failed him and left him facing judgement and criticism at every turn. Why should he defend and uphold such an establishment? He had no allegiance to them, only to the woman to whom this responsibility truly mattered.

And of course he wanted justice for those who had fallen.

But if it came to choosing between normality and yet another fight, Fane knew which he would pick in a heartbeat. Could he be judged for it after the life he had led? “So what if it was brilliant Faye? It didn’t get us anywhere, none of this is going to get us anywhere.” He swept his hand out wildly, annoyed now that she wasn’t even willing to consider just throwing in the towel but he knew that wasn’t Faye’s way and it never would be. But Faye said he was the only one she trusted with this and Fane scrubbed a hand over his face “I’m tired of this Faye, I’m tired of never seeing you except for when you have a theory you want to run by me, how long is this case going to drag on Faye? Because at the rate this is going it’s going to take the rest of our lives…” He moved the pan off the heat with a small flick of his wrist, “I’m resistant because maybe it’s a good thing we’ve not turned up anything… Maybe this case should go cold.”

It was unfair to the people that had died for him to even suggest that, he knew this, but he also knew that if there was no case then Faye wouldn’t be putting herself even more at risk. “Why can’t we just go?” he turned to look at her then, eyes wide and almost imploring, “why can’t we leave everything behind and just… Just live normal lives?”

Fane looked a little sympathetic to her saying she was tired, but it quickly grew exasperated. “What are you going to find there that we haven’t already thought of? We’re chasing leads in the dark with no sense of direction Faye… How long are we going to keep grasping at straws?”

Faye would argue that if it came to a fight, one like the last time, that even if they ran to the ends of the earth it would find them. In some way. At some point in the future. Even if they decided to scrape out a living in some desolate place in the middle of nowhere. The fight would come to them one day. And Faye would rather meet it head on than have it take them by surprise after they’d grown complacent.

She let him have his say. It wasn’t the first time. And honestly, every time they had this conversation she was one step closer to agreeing. To throwing everything in and resigning and going to live her life with the man she loved. “I am trying to find a break. There’s something there, Fane-” She pointed to the files on the table. “- I know there is. My solve rate is over 95%. I can do this. I know I can. And then we can… we can get on with our lives.” It was selfish of her, she knew. To make him wait. But she had promised him. This was her last big case. Maybe her last case at all. She would turn in her badge the moment the person behind this was locked away in Azkaban forever.

But Faye frowned as he said something new this time. “Cold?” Faye set her glass aside and leaned towards him, one hand on the counter. “This case will never go cold because this maniac will keep killing people and throwing up Dark Marks and setting buildings on fire until the entirely of the wizarding world is terrified to step outside. It will never go cold.”

When he turned to look at her, it was nearly her undoing. Faye knew she didnt’ deserve his loyalty. She didn’t deserve his help. Fane stayed because he loved her. Because he promised he would. And she wanted him there. With her. Even if he was right that they’d barely seen each other since returning. She’d been neglecting him, and she knew it.

Faye blinked, her expression softening a bit, though the tension didn’t leave her eyes. “Because if we go now, we’ll be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. I don’t want that. I know this is a lot. That I’m asking you to… to give up so much. To be patient where I’ve already asked for more than I deserve.” She come towards him a bit. “I want that life, Fane. I want that normal day to day. With you. I want a house. And all the things we talked about when we were kids…” She smiled, but it fell a bit short as he grew even more upset.

“Until I catch one,” she said firmly. “ Because that is the mistake they will make. Thinking they can do this right under my fucking nose.There is a mole in my department, Fane. A traitor. I plan to flush them out.”

“How much longer will we keep repeating this Faye? Over and over you tell me you’re going to find a break, tell me you’re close to finding something and it comes out to nothing… Your solve rate doesn’t mean anything if this case is the one that will never be buried” he couldn’t help the almost imploring look he gave her. “How many more times am I going to have to wait?” His fingers curled, hands balled tight at his side trying hard to control what he felt but his self-control and patience was growing fraught. Faye leaned in and insisted that this would never go cold and his head lowered.

She was right. To a point. She was also wrong.

But it didn’t mean he had to like it. “That’s just it,” he gestured wildly “I don’t think you’re right on that account. I don’t think it’s one person doing this maybe one person’s the face of it but this is too organised to not be a group act…” Fane had other opinions too, but hearing Faye say that it would keep going on… Fane didn’t know what he could truly say to that. “Yeah, it probably will, until they get what they want and you know what I think they want?” He waited until she was quiet, swallowing back the thickness in his throat “they want me. Can you say it’s truly such a coincidence that all this started when I came back? And I’m not saying that to be egotistical but the only catalyst to all this happening is Rita Skeeter running that piece that announced to the world found out that I was alive and survived? Me, the man they all still say has Death Eater allegiances and sympathies because of his goddamn name.” Perhaps it was a wild assumption and he could certainly be wrong, but the coincidences were too close and too tied up to not be anything but, “you know what I think Faye? I think these sick, twisted people want my attention and I think they believe that by doing this they’re honouring me.” It felt morbid to say but Fane had been thinking on it plenty since they had returned and since speaking with Solokov’s contact Fane was even more of that opinion.

“And you know what? You know what I think of that? I think it’s sick and twisted, but more than that-- It scares the ever living shit out of me because if they want me so much… What does that mean for the people around me Faye? What does that mean for the people I’m putting in harms way by sheer association-- I’ve already gotten Alex killed, how many more?” His voice was pitched low, but there was a small waver in it because Fane truly was scared. “I… don’t know how much longer I can see this go on and not feel like the guilt is going to drown me… But we both know the only reason I’m staying is because… I won’t, I refuse to leave you behind.”

“Oh sure, you know this is a lot,” he scoffed a little setting his glass aside and throwing his hands up slightly “do you Faye? Do you really want that? Because I can’t help but wonder if all these… requests for me to be patient are just excuses to never just… go and do it?” She spoke of wanting a house, a family, all the things they had talked about once upon a time that felt barely real now and Fane leaned on the counter closing his eyes as he fought against the urge to rail. Because god damn it how many more times would he have to give up that wish for more time. And what if they were too old for the things they wanted? The things he wanted. Every day, every year it was another step further away from where he wanted to be.

“Jesus, do you hear yourself, Faye?!” Fane’s voice rose a few notches but he reined it in though it trembled. “How?! How Faye? And how do you plan on finding out who it is? If they’ve gotten through this many times what’s to say this won’t be different?” How many more times was she going to put herself in danger for this mission? Fane truly didn’t know how much more of it he could truly take.

Faye sighed and scrubbed a hand through her hair. She knew Fane was right. She knew that she kept asking for more and more and more. For just a little bit more. And for what? Dead ends, broken leads, and information that always turned into nothing? She knew it wasn’t fair. That he wanted to move on with their lives and she was the one holding them in this limbo. Revolving around this case that had stalled out since they had returned to London.

“I don’t know. I don’t…” Faye shook her head helplessly. “What if I stop? What if I leave it, and the one thing I needed to finally move forwards would’ve been right there?” Her need to find whoever was behind this was bordering on obsession. If anyone could see it, Fane could. And Faye knew she could only push him for so long before- No. No, she didn’t want to even contemplate that. Contemplate being without him. The very thought was enough to make her throat tighten and her eyes start to sting.

Her thoughts refocused for a moment, somewhat, as he rebuked her claims that it was simply one person. She listened, dread growing heavier and heavier in her belly the more he went on. She grew quiet though, and what he said then - that this group of fanatical terrorists - wanted him… Faye suddenly felt very, very ill. The implications of such a thing… it would have made a normal person want to run. But Faye was hardly a coward. “If it is something like that.” She looked up at him from where she’d had to sit down, feeling decidedly dizzy. “It means we have all the more reason to stop whoever it is before they can cause any more harm. Before they hurt anyone else. Before they hurt… before they hurt you.” Now it was her voice that wavered. “Because that’s the main reason I’m doing this, Fane. The reason I became an Auror in the first place.” She shook her head. “I can’t lose you again. I won’t lose you again.” Though ironically, she was losing him. By trying to save him.

But she knew his guilt weighed heavily on him even on good days. All the lives lost. All the families and lives torn apart. Through no fault of his own, but even so, Fane carried it with him always. Standing up, she moved closer. Seeing the pain and the fear in his eyes broke her heart. Was it really worth it? To put him through so much when he’d already endured enough, just because she knew he wouldn’t leave her behind? That wasn’t why Faye did what she did - she would never ever manipulate him in that way - but she felt the weight of her own guilt like a chain around her neck. She took a literal step backwards as he snapped at her about the things she supposed wanted. And that… that made her angry.

“Don’t you dare stand there and accuse me of being false, Stefan Savin. Not about that. I’ve wanted those things with you since we were fourteen years old. I wanted those things with you even after I thought you were dead,” she snapped. Faye was practically seething, feeling hurt and scared, though her voice wavered audibly as she spoke. “And I want them now. But how can we have that? If the things you’re saying are even remotely true, how can we live - how can we have a family… children… - and not spend our lives looking over our shoulders?”

She didn’t flinch as he snapped back, asking her how she planned to flush out this mole. Or the ones controlling them. Faye waited until he was done, having to look away because he was right. In this, he was exactly right. But she couldn’t just leave it like it was. “Give me one month. From today. One month to find… something worth continuing with. If there’s still nothing but dead ends… then I’ll give it up. And we’ll go. I swear to you.” Tentatively, she reached for his arm. “Nothing is more important to me in this world than you. You’re the love of my life. Without you… there’s nothing…”

“Okay, so what if it is? And then what? Another dead end? Another several months of being told to be patient? That this’ll be the time it changes?” Fane could see it now, and knew it would be the case because that was how it had been ever since the start of this case. Fane would never leave her behind, if she was staying then he was damn well staying as well but it didn’t mean things couldn’t get fraught.

Fane wouldn’t make such a claim idly, he’d been stewing on this for a couple of weeks now and in all honesty it was the only thing out of all this that did make sense. And Fane wasn’t running because he was scared, or well, not entirely. He wanted to leave this behind and do what he’d done years ago; try to forget it. “That’s the thing, if they want me I don’t think they’ll hurt me-- but the people around me? You, Maya? Her family? Faye what’s to stop them being dragged into the crossfire even by sheer association.” If he left, if they left. Changed their names and vanished then that would be it wouldn’t it? Fane knew why she’d become an auror, they’d discussed it, of course they had and Fane held a guilt over how Faye had sought such a dangerous path just to avenge him. “And I won’t lose you, but can’t you see we are losing each other? You into this case… and the risks you’re taking, you don’t want to lose me but what if I lose you? I’ve experienced that near miss and I can’t do it Faye.” He wouldn’t do it.

The snap of her own ire was welcome, because Fane was god damn tired of her just talking. “I don’t know Faye, move to another country, change our names-- I’ve vanished off the face of the earth and I’d rather take that option and have a life with you than… Whatever this is-- Being left to wait on you, wondering if you’ll even come back or not this time.”

His jaw tightened when Faye asked for one more month, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Fine. One month. Then that’s it. We pack our things and we leave.” She reached for him and he longed to let her touch but Fane pulled away, wasn’t willing to let himself be lulled by this. Because would it be the case that in a month she asked for another? How many times had that happened on this case? Fane looked at the pot of sauce he moved to pour it over the plates of food but instead of taking one he put it in the oven and shut it. He left the other for her not feeling hungry. “I’m going for a walk… Maybe a drink. Do what you need to do Faye, but one month and that’s my quota.”

Faye wanted to scream at him that she hadn’t run fifteen years ago when someone had been after him. She hadn’t run away when she knew something was wrong. When she knew something had happened to him even though he barely spoke to her. She hadn’t run from the Death Eaters, and she certanily wasn’t going to run from ghosts now. She wanted to say it, but she didn’t. It wasn’t a good idea.

Her brow furrowed as he pointed out what she knew: that they were slowly losing each other anyway. That in all the fervor, all the scrambling and digging and grasping at straws, all for the sake of keeping him safe, Faye was putting distance between them. When that was absolutely the last thing she wanted. She dropped her head. “I don’t want that either. I don’t want to die. I don’t want you to lose me. I just want everyone to be safe. I want… I want to be able to love you where everyone can see us. Without being afraid of someone hurting you.”

A distressed look passed over her face, and she blinked again. “I would follow you to the ends of the earth. You know that. Don’t you?” Faye had never doubted that he did, but he seemed… reluctant to believe her this time. And that hurt more than any words he could ever say. “I will always come back to you, Fane. I promise.” But Faye knew her promise - sincere as it was - didn’t hold much weight. She couldn’t say whether or not she would be safe every time left his side. Her job had nearly killed her once. And now it was even more dangerous.

“One month. And then we go.” She meant it. It had been long enough. And as much as she knew it would weigh on her if the case was left unsolved, especially if bad things started to happen because of it, Faye knew that the life she wanted with Fane would overcome all that. At least she hoped it would. Though she had no reason to think it wouldn’t. Still, when he pulled away, it hurt. Her expression tightened, and she drew her hand back, curling it against her stomach. She suddenly felt very tired. And not at all hungry.

“Fine. Don’t forget your coat. It’s cold out.” The words weren’t sharp or said with any heat. They were flat, almost apathetic. Faye didn’t stay in the kitchen to watch him leave. Instead, she went upstairs and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring off out the window and watching the rain streak down the glass.

Fane had nothing more to say, a look was all that was needed. A look that said don’t you see why I want us to leave then? Of course he understood that there were risks in that too, but Fane wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to put everything on hold waiting for the other shoe to drop. They wanted the same things. That wasn’t news. But unlike Faye who would fight tooth and nail, Fane was tired enough that he was willing to throw in the towel if it meant gaining even a modicum of peace.

So with the confirmation that one month would be the final stopping point, Fane acknowledged it along with her remark for him to get his coat. Moving off to pick it up and a scarf off the hanger along with a hat and gloves he wrapped himself up. Though he’d said he was going for a drink, it wasn’t the sort she likely anticipated. Fane was, in fact, headed for the little coffee shop overlooking the Thames in which he’d ended up in on too many nights when he’d been living alone over summer drinking coffee between shifts at the Leaky Cauldron. He’d scraped by, but the patron had become a friend and over the years Fane had dropped in when he was passing by. It was a place he went to think and one that he liked to keep to himself for that exact reason so he couldn’t be disturbed.

This was one of those moments where Fane felt very much inclined to getting a drink and thinking over everything that had come to pass. So as Faye vanished up the stairs he paused by the door, glancing back “Faye--” he called it quietly, but enough to get her to pause and look back “I love you, okay? Never forget that.” With another long pause he drew back into himself, and with a nod stepped down the staircase towards the shop and exit below.

An hour or so later, a lone dark figure dressed all in black stole through the display cases and ornaments set out on display in the shop below moving with single-minded determination. The figure moved with no sound, it did occasionally pause to look at something in a case but never lingered with the intent to take anything. Soon enough the figure strolled through to the back room where it sought out the concealed passageway that led to the residence above. Up the stairs, scanning rooms that were long since dark and up the next. Until the figure came upon what it was looking for. For a long moment it stood in the doorway, looming over the end of the bed where she dozed as though contemplating or perhaps admiring the sight of the woman. A shame really that this was to be how it was. With no further hesitation, the trespasser drew his wand and made to start his work.

Faye paused on the steps as he called her name, turning to glance back at him. His words caused a look to pass across her face. A softening of her features that was only for him. “I love you, too. Always.” She waited until he nodded and turned to head out before she headed upstairs. A bit later, she was asleep, curled beneath the covers. Though her sleep wasn’t restful. It was full of shadowy images, things she could see but couldn’t. There was a feeling of… wrongness. Something intrusive that wasn’t just a nightmare. Something that screamed at her to wake up… wakeupwakeupWAKEUP!

Faye sat straight up in the bed, instantly knowing that something was wrong. It was only her years of Auror training that saved her from the hex that was flung in her direction. She saw the spark, felt the unfamiliar tingle of defensive magic, and rolled to the side and onto the floor just as the side of the headboard splintered to pieces. She reached for her wand where it had lain on the sidetable, but it was gone. Another hex hit the wall beside her, blasting a hole into the paneling. Wood splinters buried themselves in her cheek as she dodged to the side.

Faye fell flat on her stomach, staying there and holding her breath as she listened for any movement, any sound that would indicate where her attacker was. She balled her fist, and when she heard the creak of floorboards, she raised up and threw the spell across the room. It spun in a violet-colored arch of magic, breaking glass and knocking things off the wall. The windows shuddered with the force of it, but there was nobody there. Faye frowned. She didn’t stand just yet, casting out a detection spell. Still nothing. Had they gone? Possibly.

Cautiously, she stood, silently calling her wand. It didn’t come. She tried again, with a more powerful spell. Still her hand remained empty. Fucking hell. Moving around the bed, blood running down her cheek from the splinters, she moved towards the stairs. “I know you’re here,” Faye called out. “The Aurors are on their way. Give yourself up, and I’ll be lenient. Continue to fight back, and there’ll be consequences.” She was bluffing. There were no Aurors - other than herself - on the way. She’d sent no alert.

She crept down the stairs, back to the wall. A light shone from the sitting room, and as Faye listened, someone struck a key on the piano. One note, echoing through the utter stillness of the flat. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Slowly, she peered around the doorway. A candle was lit on top of the piano. Faye frowned. She frowned, and almost didn’t hear the steps squeak behind her. She tried to whirl on her assailant, but they were fast. Bloody fast. The wall met her face as she was forced up against it. It took her a few moments to realize that the spell being used to hold her… was an Auror’s spell. It was one of the first one’s they were ever taught.

Which also meant they were taught how to break it. Faye did, and wasted no time in slinging spell after spell in any and every direction. Glass shattered, panelling splintered, the piano took a direct hit and made an awful sound. But nothing came back in return. Not until a bright flash of magic washed over Faye like acid. She screamed as her power was negated, turned off, trapped inside her where she couldn’t use it. She staggered under the sheer force of it.

The last thing she knew before the world went quite suddenly dark, was a second flash of white-hot pain across her face, and a second impact to her middle. After that, nothing.

Faye’s assailant's features were shrouded in shadow, a mass of darkness spelled to remain there and in his belt securely fastened was her wand; taken earlier to ensure her disadvantage. She was a strong unarmed duellist, perhaps the strongest in the entire division but everyone knew you could only duel so much without a method of focussing power that it drained you. Not having her wand meant the odds were ever so slightly stacked in her attacker’s favour, proof that this had not simply been a random occurrence, but, in fact, a planned procedure.

Unfortunately, emotion could prove to be a delirious distraction. After landing the sixth or seventh kick to her ribs, vision coloured red in his anger the figure toed her limp body over with the tip of his boot staring at her marred appearance. This hadn’t been what he’d been anticipating doing, breathing hard he glared at her. This was all her fault. Everything was her fault in the end. He’d started the spell, and with her prone the figure crouched down and set to finishing it off ensuring that everything that needed changing was done. Once finished, the figure studied her slack features. A waste really, her wand was tossed to the floor a few feet away before the intruder turned and vanished once more into the shadows.

Fane wasn’t sure how long he’d wandered, he could have taken the tube but the cold city air in early November felt good as he inhaled it into his lungs. Warmed by several cups of coffee that he’d sat and had, mulling over everything that had happened before he’d paid and been on his way once more. That is, until half-way along the trip he felt some of his linked up magic at the residence trip. Each charm had been perfectly crafted… Which meant unless Faye had accidentally disrupted them (she couldn’t, he’d charmed them so she was immune to their effects)... Panic flooded him, and drawing out his wand Fane disapparated to travel the few streets left to Knockturn. Back to Faye because something felt very, very wrong.

Faye came slowly back to awareness. In the way someone that had an enormous hangover might wake up. Except she didn’t have a headache this time.

Everything hurt. She made a pained sound as she tried to move, crying out as something white-hot flared in her side. She knew the feeling of broken ribs, even though it didn’t register at the moment that that’s what the sensation was. Faye blinked, wrapping an arm around herself as she struggled to turn onto her side. Her head pounded mercilessly, and when she finally made it painfully to her hands and knees, she promptly got violently ill. The taste of blood mixed with the taste of bile in her mouth. Dizziness rolled over her, and she retched until there was nothing left to come up. What had happened? Had she fallen down the stairs?

Once the dizziness passed, Faye struggled to her feet, finding her wand by chance along the way. Stumbling, she leaned heavily against the wall as she headed towards where she knew the way out would be. There was a terrible ache in her middle as well, but Faye ignored it. She had to get out of here. Find help.

When he arrived in Knockturn, it took a few moments for Fane’s eyes to adjust to the lingering darkness cast by the narrow space of tightly packed buildings looming skywards overhead. It wasn’t a long street, but Fane found that despite its sordid and disreputable reputation it was a decent enough place to make a home for himself. People knew better than to ask questions about the residents or to bother them all too much around this part of town. But most of all, they knew which residence not to disturb of all of them.

Looking around the alley to find nothing out here amiss, Fane had just started towards his own shop when the door swung open from inside. Naturally on the defensive, Fane’s wand swung around, bright white luminescence radiating in waves from the tip of his wand. That is… until he saw who was exiting the shop, stumbling out clutching her ribs and Fane was momentarily shocked. But the panic returned almost immediately, lowering his wand “jesus christ Faye? Faye-- it’s me… I’m here don’t worry...”

What he wasn’t expecting when she looked up at him was the blazing anger and panic the clouded her eyes, as she reeled away from him the moment he tried to reach for her as though burned by the sheer presence of him. He stared at her, dumbfounded as she brandished her wand at him “Faye..? What-- what happened? S’me… S’Fane...”

Faye staggered downstairs and into the shop. This was bad. This was very, very bad. She couldn’t quite remember where she was, but it all rang as very familiar. She’d been here before. Several times. Perhaps if she wasn’t so swimmy-headed-

She staggered into the street after the front door opened easier than she thought it would. In reality, it was the wards recognizing her and letting her go as she pleased, but Faye didn’t realize that. The jarring motion of nearly falling down the steps had her clutching at the searing pain in her side. She almost didn’t see the dark figure that rushed to her side, but once she did-

There was a split second - so fast that she didn’t even recognize it - where she saw Fane and knew him for the man she loved. But seeing him triggered whatever it was her assailant had done, and the only thing she knew was a raging anger and fear so sudden that she threw her wand up between them. “Get back! You… you fucking bastard!” Faye staggered backwards, away from Savin’s hold. “You did this to me…” Her voice shook as memories of a fight, yelling at each other in his flat (that’s how she recognized the place, she suddenly ‘remembered’), and then- Faye made herself stand up straight, going pale at the sharp pain in her side and the throbbing one deep in her belly.

A patronus charm - a large raven - appeared and flashed off towards the Ministry.

“Stay where you are,” Faye said, voice fluttering. It would be near impossible to see in the dark, but Faye’s eyes were no longer a vivid violet, but a swimmy blueish color. Faye’s fighting back had botched the memory charm that was used on her, but not enough to allow her true memories to bleed through, or make her lower her wand. All she could see right now was a man who had viciously assaulted her. A man who she’d been interviewing (more than once) about the current case she was working. A case which seemed to revolve around him.

“If you try to flee,” She tightened her grip on her wand, “you will be apprehended. If you use force, you will be apprehended with extreme prejudice. If you come quietly, you will be treated fairly.”

The violent way she jerked away from him regardless of her injuries left Fane looking at her almost like a deer caught in headlights. Lost and so very confused, because what had happened? He’d left for an hour maybe two and now she was saying-- Fane made no effort to follow her as she backed up, letting her put space between them regardless of how much it hurt to see the wild panic and fear in her eyes. Fear of him. God, what had they done to her?

But this was how it was meant to go wasn’t it? This was how it always went down. The people he loved and cared for most, driven away for one reason or another. So Fane cast an orb of light up into the air to keep the alley lit, before making a slow and deliberate show of lowering his wand and keeping his hands in view “Look-- look! I’m lowering my wand… I-- I don’t want to fight you Faye but I need you to listen to me, please,” his expression and words were imploring as he fought against the hopeless feeling that this would all be in vain. “Faye, I didn’t--- Faye I swear to you I didn’t do this to you… I warned you this was going to happen, that… That they were going to get to one of us… They’ve done it Faye. They’ve done it.” But the silvery blue trail of the patronus shot off and Fane found himself taking a step back. “Faye,” his voice broke when he uttered her name this time “please--- I need you to listen to me. I need you to fight this… You’re stronger than this, than them.”

Her expression flickered, just a fraction but it was enough and Fane moved forwards once more reaching out tentatively for her arm “Faye! Remember! Remember me, remember the truth of this all… I need you to fight this, fight for me! You promised! You promised you’d come back to me, I need you to come back now! God fucking damn it fight like you’ve never fought before!” He was breathless, wild-eyed and panicked when he shouted and it must’ve been a sight. The sound of apparition echoed behind him and Fane knew that his time was fast growing short. He was good, and he could take them on but Fane didn’t want to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. Though a part of him was tempted to simply lay waste to them all for someone even daring to do this to her. “Please Faye-- Please love.”

The sound of apparition didn’t turn Faye’s head. She was focused entirely on the man in front of her. On what he was saying. It didn’t ring as falsehood. Christ, her head just hurt so much… she shook it, gasping with the flare of pain that had her seeing stars.

You promised.... You promised you’d come back to me… I need you… I need you… please love…

Blood ran from Faye’s nose as she opened her eyes and looked up. “Fane…?” She blinked owlishly at him, looking confused. Her voice sounded small and frightened, almost childlike. So very unlike Faye that that in itself was unsettling.

“Fane… what’s happening? Someone was… inside. They… my wand… I can’t… I can’t remembAHH!” She grabbed her head with both hands, doubling over and nearly falling to her knees as the pain came back again. “You have to-” Faye could barely get the words out, her voice shook so much. Other voices could be heard now, getting closer. “Fane… you have to run…” She looked up at him, both nostrils bleeding as she fought back against the spell trying to take her over.

Running feet now, raised voices. “Please, love...” A spell hit the wall near Fane’s head, filling the alley with the smell of magic. Faye faltered as a wave of Aurors rushed into the alleyway. “Run…” she said as forcefully as she could, meeting his eyes once more in a look that said ‘save yourself now so you can save me later…’ before she slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Fane’s eyes searched her features frantically, looking for any hint of how to break this. But there wasn’t enough time, he didn’t know the depths and intricacies of this magic affecting her and without the time to study it he couldn’t create a counter-spell without possibly risking very serious side-effects and consequences. Which were not an option. But her recognising him if only for a moment was a relief, and Fane didn’t hesitate to rush over feeling the urge to assure her of the truth, that this was the truth. Their truth. “It’s me, it’s me love I’m here… I know, I know baby but you… you need to keep remembering,” he gripped her shoulders giving her a little shake desperate to keep getting through to her “keep fighting…”

But the nearer the others got, the more distraction there was from him. Her plea to get him to run… Fane couldn’t do it, “not without you, no-- no no no, I’m not going without you.” He glanced over his shoulders at the group convering on them headed by Roger all their wands brandished. But Faye’s urging drew him back as he aimed to seek out her hand, skin on skin for a side-along apparition. His attempt to get ahold her of her was desperate, trails of tears streaming down his face “I’m not leaving you, I won’t--” he seized her hand finally and the world started to spin as he tried to focus on disapparating him.

Unfortunately, mid-casting he was struck by a barrage of several varieties of jinxes, curses and spells all of which knocked him back away from Faye with a combined force that send him rag-dolling through the air into the bricks at the other end of the alley. He crashed down, groaning, but where that should’ve been enough to stun a full grown hippogriff, Fane managed to roll to his knees clutching his stomach as blood trickled from a fresh split in his lip.

From down the length of the alley he locked gaze with Roger, now stood by Faye, shielding her in just a way that Fane found odd considering Faye’s aversion to the man. The glazed look had returned to her eyes, and realisation struck him then, kneeling in the dirt at the mercy of a dozen or so aurors. A murderous look burned in his eyes as he snatched up his wand, a final warning, a reckoning would come and as several dozen more spells were cast down the alley some glancing off him, Fane disappeared. The spells that missed exploded against the wall in a dazzling display of light, before Roger was ordering them to start searching the property and warrants to be put out for the witnessing or capture of a highly dangerous dark wizard now at large.

Faye reached for Fane as he rushed towards her. Something was very, very wrong. Both inside her head and otherwise. The whole situation was wrong. She gripped his jacket, knuckles white as she struggled to keep the memory of him - of them - at the forefront of her mind. Ahead of the thick ichor that tried to pull her back. Tried to cover her memories. Tried to make her fear him. Tried to make her forget him.

“I remember…” she managed to say. “I remember you… us…” Her eyes - a shuddering flux of her own bright violet and the unnatural, spell-induced blue - fluttered shut, and Faye had to grit her teeth to push back the magic that pushed even harder against the inside of her head. She could hear the others now, hear the voices, the running footfalls. She could feel herself slipping deeper, the spell setting it’s claws deep into her memories of who Fane truly was. Of who they were. She could feel them bleeding out… becoming less.

“Listen to me… listen!” Faye said, pushing hard in a last ditch effort to get him to understand. “If you don’t run… if you… mmphhh … if you don’t… they’ll have us both… we can’t… we can’t let that happen…” Opening her eyes again, they were more blue than violet, she looked at him imploringly, tears that matched his own staining her face. Because she understood how he felt. It would be a cold day in hell before Faye left him if the situation was reversed. “Please…” she begged him, trying to push him away. But he was already taking her hand. She already felt the pull of disapparition. And for just a moment, the thought passed through her mind that they would get out of this. That they would be okay. That they would-

A blast of spells caught Fane before he could spin them away, and he was knocked back. “FANE!!!” Faye screamed, reaching for him. But then she was being pulled back away from the fight that had suddenly started in earnest. She struggled against whoever had her, but there was a sting of magic, and then…

“Faye, darling, are you alright?” a familiar voice said in her ear.

Faye blinked, watching the flash and sizzle of spells down the alley with a slightly disconnected look on her face. She turned to the man standing next to her, his arm protectively around her. “Yes, Roger. I’m alright.” She didn’t see that Roger wasn’t looking at her at all, but staring down the alley at the man surrounded by a dozen of their best Aurors. The side of his mouth lifted just so as he met Savin’s gaze. But it fell as the man just… disapparated after being hit with enough magic to take down a dragon.

Roger frowned. No matter. Savin couldn’t get far. He was injured. He was a wanted man now. With a hefty price on his head. It was only a matter of time. “Come on, darling. Let’s get you looked after…” Roger said to Faye, turning her away from the alley.

“What’s happened?” she asked flatly. “I feel strange.”

“You took a tumble. I’ll explain things once someone gives you a look.”

“Alright. Whatever you think is best.” Faye gave Roger a smile, but it was flat and didn’t meet her eyes.

Roger took them a few more steps, then they were gone in a snap of disapparition.

Fane clung on tight as she tried to push him away, refusing absolutely in that moment to let her push him away. He was going nowhere. Not unless she came with him. There was no debate or question about it. And so he did the only thing he could think of doing, but the spells that knocked him back down the alley put too much distance in him to be able to get back to her. By the time he scrambled up Roger was beside her, and the smirk that lifted his mouth set Fane’s blood boiling. It was almost enough for Fane to up and slaughter everyone in the alleyway right now.

That slimy fucking bastard.

He’d get what was coming to him.

“FAAAAAAYEEEEEEEE!”

All Fane remembered after the alley and disapparating with a jumbled and unclear mind was falling, tumbling at high-speed and not in the same exhilarating way you got when in control of a broom. He felt like he was falling from a great height, the world slowing as though someone had reached inside him and decided to yank his innards out through his throat. He couldn’t breathe, and by the time he landed -- more crashed, body tumbling head over foot until he tumbled to a stop. God knows where he landed, the last thing he remembered was the claggy thickness of mud and dirt in his mouth none of which helped when he rolled over and wretched up the contents of his stomach and then some. His shoulder throbbed with a searing pain, mouth tasting like blood and bile he chanced a look only to see a large gash cleaved straight through the portion of which would no doubt be back in the alleyway. “Faye--” he whimpered, eyes unfocussed not able to make much of anything else out “Faye please… please Faye… come back. Please come back.”

Doubling over again he threw up until there was nothing more to come up and even then he wretched, gasping for air as he fought to no collapse where he was. He couldn’t stop, it wasn’t safe, swiping the tears away he rooted about finding his wand tumbled from his grip nearby, casting a stanching spell enough to tide him by until it was tended to properly Fane hugged his jacket around him against the bitter chill, moving to scramble and trip up and over the mound of grass nearby. He had to find somewhere to stop, somewhere no one would find him.

Sheer stubborn determination found him making it about a couple of miles on foot before he tripped once, twice again and again until he fell and couldn’t get up. The cold and sheer exhaustion of everything that had happened not to mention the shock, left him lying there in the dirt. He closed his eyes, I’m sorry Faye--- oh god I’m so sorry, it was the last thing he thought before the world spun away to darkness and the last thing he saw was a door opening in the distance. “.... Faye?”

On her end, Faye was whisked away back to the Ministry where a harried - and subtly threatened by a few choice phrases from Roger - medi-witch gave her a cursory once over, applied some healing charms to her injuries, and told her to take the next few days off. Faye simply nodded and stood as Roger took her arm and led her back to the apparition point.

“I’m going to take us back to yours, alright?” Roger said. “You’ll have to open the wards once we’re there. I’m afraid all this business with Savin has had you overly paranoid.” He waited until she agreed and then took them to the borders of Faye’s property. He knew the location from their previous association, but Faye had locked out anyone but her and Savin from passing through the wards. “Let us in, would you, love?” Roger asked as he directed Faye by the arm towards where he knew her cottage stood. “I’ll get you to bed. You should rest.”

Faye moved in the direction she steered her, a look passing over her face as he called her love. Something painful flared in her temple, over the pounding that was already there, and she grunted at the force of it. It didn’t seem right, Roger calling her that. Someone called her that. But not him. Right? Was it not-

But once again, the thick ichor of the memory spell covered any of her actual memories that tried to push through. It was only the botched spell - due to Roger’s lack of discipline and emotional control - and Faye’s skill as an Occlumens that was allowing the bleedthrough. But she was so tired, so weary, and hurt so much - the dull pain in her belly had grown to more of a sharp one as she’d been apparated for a second time, but it came and went so she paid it no mind - that it was hard to focus.

Through the wards they went, Roger’s grip on Faye’s arm tightening just the tiniest bit, as if he expected some defensive charm to flare against him. But nothing came, and he relaxed slightly. Inside the cottage, he helped Faye out of the jacket - his jacket - that he’d slipped over the pajamas she’d had on, and hung it up. Scratch, Faye’s cat - as was his custom - jumped up on the bench by the door to stare accusingly at the newcomer. The animal growled low in it’s throat, and hissed as Roger turned to look at him.

“Scratch, be nice,” Faye said flatly. But that was all as she let herself be turned up the stairs and to her room. She stood idly as Roger got her out of the blood-stained pajamas - not noticing the way he took his time and let his eyes move lecherously over Faye’s form - and eventually laid down in bed.

“There now. Get some rest.” Roger didn’t sit after he pulled the covers up over Faye. A small charm quelled anymore questions on her part, and she fell to sleep without incident. One assured of Faye’s unconscious state, Roger quickly set to work. He’d been unable to get inside the cottage while Faye and Savin had been away. Faye’s wards were a piece of work. No doubt Savin had added his own brand of twisted magical influence. So now that he was inside, he had to remove all traces of the man before Faye woke again. All traces, but leaving just enough to fit the memories he’d so expertly - in his biased opinion - planted in Faye’s head.

It took the better part of the night, but before the sun was due to rise, Roger had finished. He sat down on Faye’s couch, propped his feet on her coffeetable, and leaned his head back with a satisfied smirk. This couldn’t have gone better if he’d planned it.

Oh wait… he had.

Roger slipped off to sleep, the only witness to his transgressions the mottled gray and white cat that blinked twice at his sleeping form, and then disappeared into the shadows. Scratch had Things To See To. And no time to waste.

Fane had no idea where he was when he woke the first time, startled and utterly confused. His eyes moved about half-dazed and unfocussed. All he knew was that moving hurt, but beyond that he felt warm. “Stay still my boy,” a voice hushed from nearby, and through his bleary vision Fane vaguely made out the shape of an elderly woman tottering around the small cabin.

“Where m’I?” he groaned, squinting against the light that filtered through the curtains nearby. His head felt light and his temples were pounding, there was also a dull throb in his shoulder too.

“Somewhere safe,” the voice, nearer this time was quiet but seemed kindly enough frail hands deceiving of a surprising strength pushed him back down when he tried to prop himself up. “That was quite a number you did on yourself out there, hm?”

“How long?”

“Half a week or so,” the words panicked him and he tried to sit up but the woman pushed him back down “still, my boy, still, you need rest,” he felt something pressed to his lips and as something was tipped into his mouth swallowed for the sake of how dry his throat felt. “That’s it,” the words echoed softly as the world around him began to fade once more and his eyes fluttered shut as he drifted off into another dreamless sleep.

Fane didn’t know how much longer it was before he woke again, no one was around, but there was a bowl of something that smelled divine and a small plate of buttered bread and cheese. Sitting up, he felt better, his vision swam no more and his head felt more attached than it had before. Reaching for the bowl he started to spoon mouthfuls of the soup into his mouth realising how hungry he felt but forced himself to go slow so he didn’t end up throwing it up again. While he ate, his eyes moved around the cabin, observations being made about whoever this woman seemed to be and there was an aura of something familiar here. Magic. He would recognise it anywhere. Draining the bowl and eating the bread and cheese, Fane washed it down with the water. He was feeling better the more he ate, but the more he did so the more time he had to think on everything that had happened.

Faye . The memory of her face in the alley. Distraught, confused, lost in whatever had been done to her by that son of a bitch…. The thought caused Fane to almost throw his bowl across the room in sheer anger at the situation that had come to pass. He didn’t though, and instead managed to set it aside and swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He had to get to her. Had to find a way to get her out and figure out what had happened. But he was alone, and god knows where… First thing first, regroup, figure out a plan and go from there.

Because like hell was he sitting on his hands while all that he cared for was taken from him.

The inside of Fane’s shop was dark and quiet. No one had stepped foot inside it since the night Faye had been assaulted and Fane was forced to flee. Now, weeks later, the door swung open easily and Faye stepped inside. Her blue eyes scanned the shelves and cases that sat quietly in the dark. Holding who knew what sort of illegal items and contraband. Behind her, a team of Aurors waited on her signal. She took a moment, looking around the interior, ‘remembering’ talking with Savin in this very room. And upstairs. She remembered questioning him about the case. She remembered an argument. Yelling. Turning to leave, but then-

Roger had explained everything. How she had been working the case on the Order murders. How she had gone to Savin for information once she learned he was back in town. They had been friends in school after all. Roger explained how she had been suspicious of him from the start. Yet felt he was vital to the case. Faye remembered him. Fane, she knew his name was. An old school mate. Ravenclaw. Smart. Quidditch player. Thought to be a war casualty. But apparently not. They’d gotten on well enough. He’d even gotten her a few leads here and there. But nothing panned out. Just dead ends. She’d grown frustrated, and apparently touched too close to home one night while they were having a discussion. Savin had lost his already unstable hold on his sanity and attacked her.

She’d been alright. Or thought so anyway. Until a few days later when she’d woken up to the most horrible pain she’d ever felt in her life. Like a hot blade slicing straight through her guts.

Blood… so much blood… on the sheets… the floor… her thighs, her hands… everywhere.

Faye had fainted even as she’d called for help.

When she woke, she was in hospital. She tried to sit up, but Roger was there, telling her she shouldn’t. Making her lie back down. “What happened?” she had asked him. The searing pain in her middle was now a dull cramping pain. Much like she’d had over the last week.

Roger’s face had grown dark at her question, though he schooled his expression to something more soothing. “Darling, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it, alright?” He was every bit the concerned partner as he took her hand and gave it as squeeze.

“Roger… you’re scaring me…”

“Faye… you had a miscarriage.” He squeezed her hand again.

If she had been confused before, she was even more confused now. “But… but I wasn’t pregnant? I couldn’t be… could I?”

Again, Roger looked every bit the distraught but stoic partner. “We’ve been together for a long time. It was bound to happen one day. But the doctors say it was early still. Nothing you can’t recover from. Or do again one day. If not for the trauma you suffered these past few days… everything would’ve turned out alright.” It wasn’t a lie. So it was easy enough for Faye - in her spelled and weary state - to believe Roger’s words. To take them at face value.

Faye blinked, lying back on her pillow. Her free hand gripped the sheets over her belly. A baby? One she didn’t even know about? And now she’d lost it? Because of- Faye closed her eyes, tears slipping down her face. Because of him. She’d lost her child because of him. Because of Fane Savin.

Which is why as Faye stood in the foyer of the man’s residence, she had no regrets or remorse as she ordered her team inside. “Take everything. Tear it apart if you have to. I’m taking the upstairs.”

Roger entered behind her, always close now, always watchful. “I’ll come with you,” he said, loathe to let Faye wander alone through the home she’d been sharing with Savin.

“Stay here. Oversee all this. I’ll be back shortly.” Without waiting for him to answer, Faye made her way to the hidden entrance and up the stairs to the flat above. Whatever was hidden here, she would find it. And use it to find Savin before she ended him for good.

Kristyna, as Fane came to learn his rescuer’s name turned out to be an old Romanian hedge-witch. Powerful and ancient in her craft, she had lived alone out here on the edge of the forest for several years now. Some called her a legend in the local village, others feared to even set foot on her land, but as Fane grew to learn. She was a kind-hearted woman, who had been forced to endure several unfortunate stereotypes that came with living so near to Muggles and being in possession of magic. They would never understand, because to them this was all fantasy, make-believe a good bed-time story to read before they went to sleep in their mundane world and normal lives.

But for them, this was real life and the demons didn’t simply exist in the pages of a storybook.

After nursing him back to health, Fane had stayed with Kristyna for another week or so before he had ultimately decided it best to leave. She had insisted on packing him some food for the journey, and so Fane had set off into the wilderness of his forefathers and traced a route that for most had long been forgotten. It ultimately brought him to a refuge upon a series of interconnecting magical ley-lines that he tapped into to fuel several virtually unbreakable shields around the small cabin that stood within its confines. It was here that Fane started to piece together everything he knew, he was no auror, but he was smart and he’d been following Faye on her cases well enough to know what needed to be done and where. Eventually, he’d ended up with a board of information and evidence that he had pieced together both from sources he’d put feelers out to and his own memory.

It was a rural sort of life, living mostly off the land and the basic amenities but his first few months prior to attending Durmstrang and being their himself had taught him the basic skills of survival in climates harsher than these snow-swept landscapes. One of the tests you were often put through before initiation in the institute was to be dropped into a freezing lake and ultimately find your way back to the castle. Some made it, others were eventually sought out but it was a lesson to the fresh faces that this was an unforgiving world. Those that wanted to make it in this school would do so through sheer grit and determination, perseverance was key and those who faltered would never survive. A harsh point of view, but it had its merits. There were plenty of unorthodox teaching methods that Fane had witnessed, he had even returned to the institute in the years spent supposedly dead curious to learn from the professors their the acts that Hogwarts deemed unfit for study.

The time taken then was serving its purpose now it seemed. Fane had his own informants, keeping him up to date and dropping off intel packages about the things happening in London. You didn’t stay off the grid for fifteen years and not have a network of people you utilised to keep it that way. He paid them more than enough, and chose them after a long and hard scrutinising and deliberation process, each with their own respective talent or skill that Fane harnessed to his own ability. Which, right now it seemed was keeping an eye on his residence in Knockturn and more specifically piecing together Roger’s movements both day and night. Knowing the link between the mole and the murders, it made it easier to start tracking down when and where things were happening; allowing him in turn, to learn who were the cogs and who were the integral gears.

All the while trying to understand what brand of influence and magic had been twisted and spelled on Faye’s mind. He’d been working on a cure, but such things were temperamental and needed to be carefully crafted under the very precise phase of the moon. Thankfully a lifetime of potions lessons left him with steady hands and a willful determination to save Faye from that lecherous fool’s influence. He would see it done, but how he would get to Faye? He couldn’t quite say so much on that account. It was a few weeks later, when he received news that an imminent raid on his residence would be taking place that Fane thought of it and if there was one thing he knew Faye was attuned to despite it all. That was the influence and radiating power of his magic.

Something hidden, that would ultimately lead her here if she found it.

Faye ascended the stairs slowly, wand at her side, eyes moving slowly over the dark paneling and the rich carpets. She moved through the kitchen area, finding it vaguely familiar. There was a plate of moldered food still sitting on the bar. Along with two sticky wine-glasses. Faye thought it strange, but since the food was very obviously old, she paid it no more mind. A search there found nothing amiss, other than Savin had far too extravagant tastes in food and wine. Arrogant in all things it seemed.

It wasn’t until she moved through the room where a large piano sat, that Faye paused. Downstairs, there were sounds of glass breaking, shelves splintering, things being taken apart and packaged or destroyed as her team looked for any evidence that would further convict Fane Savin of the murders he was accused of. The instrument was a beautiful thing, dark and lacquered. Faye didn’t know how to play, but something pulled her inexplicably towards the piano. The keys were white as bones next to the dark finish, and Faye felt compelled to run her fingers over it. It was slick as oiled glass beneath her hand.

Something whispered then, just on the edges of her hearing. Something warm and familiar. She turned her head, her hand pausing as her blue eyes fell closed. Not a voice. But a feeling. A tug, just at the base of her spine, that said, ‘remember…’

Faye’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, and her hand fell to hover above the keys. Fingers that she never remembered touching ivory trembled slightly as something beyond her control called them to move. The first note resounded through the quiet room, an echo of something she felt like she should remember. An echo of another life. The second echoed a moment later, and then a third, until Faye had played the entire phrase from memory. But what memory??

She didn’t have time to think on it, for with the pressing of the final key came not only a ringing of the note, but a soft click as well. The gold-painted name on the face of the instrument fell forwards, and a small box slid out. Faye stared at it for a long moment, that feeling once again compelling her to take it. She did, slowly and with great caution, and lifted the lid.

Somewhere down below, a voice was calling her name. But she didn’t hear them. All she saw was the words on the parchment. The scrawl of handwriting that she felt like she knew… that she did know… so well. Her eyes scanned the words, and the blue shimmered, wavering into a deeper color, closer to her own violet the further she read. “Fane…?” she said, confusion - along with fear, and pain, and an overwhelming sadness - evident in her voice. But there was no one there to hear her. Only the dying echoes of a song he’d taught her to play - perhaps for this very reason - and the rustle of a letter from a secret box, addressed to her.

As the letter was unfurled, it was momentarily blank parchment. Nothing extraordinary, but as its full length was unfolded in Faye’s hands the contents began to reveal themselves. Fane’s slanted and extremely neat cursive hand starting to write on the paper his voice echoing as the words began to darken the page.

My dearest Faye,

I sincerely hoped there would never be a day you would need to read these words, that I would be able to burn this letter before its contents saw the light of day but if you’re reading this, well, I doubt I have managed to achieve that end. In fact, I suppose if you’re reading this, then I won’t have made it back at all, therefore, I was not able to remind you again of the most important fact in my life: that I love you. I love you, have loved you from a time before I even knew what love truly was. Live your life and take comfort in the fact that I am always watching over you. I am not gone and with you in spirit. This must be a hard time for you, but I know you Faye, I know how strong and truly remarkable you really are and this will not be the end of you.

Because you are the woman who brought me light in the darkest of hours in my life, and I know that your friendship and kind efforts were not always appreciated as they should have been when we were younger - I was naive and terrified of bringing my darkness (something I had lived with my entire life) to you. You always deserved better than what I thought I could give to you, even now I can’t help but wonder why you chose me when the world was yours to have if you so chose. But for some reason you chose me, and there will never be a day that I will take that fact for granted.

I suppose to you this might be a rather macabre document considering to you this will only be delivered should something have happened to me. But I ask you not to look on it that way, life is just one adventure and I will wait patiently for the day you join me for our next. Don’t rush to join me so soon love, don’t worry about me, I shall be alright. You have given me the courage to face the darkness and whatever may lie therein, a courage that I know you will continue to show in these tragic times until we meet once more.

I’m writing this to remind you of how important you are to me, I could not ask for a more supportive, caring, beautiful woman in my life. The memories that we have shared over the last few years have been the best of my life. Although it may seem like my life was cut short, I lived a life that most can only dream of. My only regret is that I won’t see the day of you achieving those dreams we had when we were young of what our future together would be; married, a home and family of our own. But the memories that we do have together are just as important to me, if you feel sad, just think back on what we have shared. Look at the good we put back into the world by solving those cases side by side.

I wish I could have asked you this, I should have done it sooner but I never knew when would be the right moment. To ask you to trust me so completely, it’s a scary thought, but far less so than the thought of a life without you. I could never live without you love, but please take this ring to remember me by. Wear it now and remember me when you can. Be strong, and never be afraid to do what you need to do to be happy. It is so important that you continue to find happiness in your life. Although you may think this is impossible right now, have faith. Much better times wait for you. There is a wonderful life waiting for you, and I am so happy to have shared in even a fraction of that with you.

In this last will and testament of Stefan Josiah Savin, I hereby declare all my estate and possessions do now belong to Miss Faye Marie Delacroix should she survive me.

Use them well my dear. I love you so much.

- Your loving partner,

Stefan

His voice trailed off with the signature, the letter falling silent in her hands. Beneath lay a ring, a single diamond encrusted by twirling pavé diamonds that glinted in the low light of the residence above the shop.

Faye started to read the letter, but the moment the first words appeared, a voice did as well. She looked up, thinking perhaps someone was in the room with her now. But no. It was only Faye. The voice continued, and Faye followed the words with her eyes. Eyes that filled with tears. Eyes that started to slowly bleed violet through the ensorcelled blue. The more Fane’s voice spoke to her, the more his magic called to the part of her that was drawn to it. That had always been drawn to it. Her magic recognizing his. By the time Fane’s disembodied voice reached the end of the letter - a letter that basically told her he was gone, that he loved her and always would, but she should move on - Faye had fallen to her knees, weeping openly. Because she remembered. She remembered everything.

What she and Fane had been chasing all these long months.

Who they were to each other. Their childhood. His return. Loving each other so fiercely. Promising to always come home. Promising forever.

And then, Faye was remembering what had really happened the night Fane had fled. How he had refused to leave her despite her pleas. Yet he expected her to leave him now?? When he needed her most?

Like hell.

Faye didn’t have time to think too long on everything. On what had really happened or why. Anything after that fateful night was foggy. But there were things in those shadowy memories. Horrible, terrible things. Things that would rip her apart when they did come to light. She didn’t have time, because the ring fell into her hand. Taking her breath and yet making her sob even harder. Why?? Why now? Why when everything was falling apart around them?? When Fane had been ripped away from her, and she from him, so cruelly? Why now, when she was reading what was nothing less than his Last Will and Testament? When he was most likely-

“No.” Faye said the words firmly, gripping the ring in her hand, feeling the stone cut the skin of her palm. In that stone, that symbol of Fane’s love and commitment, she felt the pulse of Fane’s magic. Felt it like it was in her blood. “You’re not dead…” she said to the darkness. “You’re not. Not now. Not ever.”

With a trembling hand, Faye slipped the ring onto her finger, and felt the instant tug of a portkey. It spun her out into the cold and the dark. Snow capped mountains shone beneath a silver winter moon. Faye was already shivering by the time she oriented herself. And when she did, when she saw the desolation around her, she couldn’t help but feel that same desolation in her heart. That barren emptiness where once light and warmth had lived. She’d been brought to the ends of the earth, having told Fane she’d follow him there and back if she had to. But there was nothing here. Nothing but mountains and black sky and ice. Faye sank to her hands and knees in the snow, ready to simply lie down and let the cold take her to Fane. Wherever ‘after’ was, she would find him there, Faye was certain. So she let herself weep for what was most likely lost, while wearing the glinting promise of forever on her left hand.

Fane was crouched by a large stew-pot stirring the contents as they bubbled away over the log fire stacked up below when he felt his wards flare. Something to the west edge of them, and though Fane couldn’t see he turned his head in that direction. They were in the middle of nowhere, which meant someone had found him. Abandoning the pot, Fane sought out his jacket wrapping it around himself along with his hat. His wand was packed on him as he stepped outside to where his horse was tethered.

Helping out the locals who lived up in the wilderness here had earned him a few favours. The horse being one of the rewards he’d been gifted by them, saddling him up quickly Fane swung up onto the saddle and set off towards the disturbance at a fast pace. He stopped half a mile or so away, not wanting to give his location away in case whoever had come was not so friendly and thus opted to tether up his mount who stomped and puffed a little as he swung back down to the ground.

It required no thought for his body and clothes to start morphing, he would fit in better in his animagus form. His body shrinking down, ears and features elongating until a slightly larger than average black and silver fox stood in the spot he as moments before. Ears flattening and twitching as he sourced out the sound, Fane jumped off and scuttled through the undergrowth towards the figure he sensed nearby. Only as he neared, scanning the scene did he understand what had happened. Thank god for small mercies he supposed, but Faye seemed to be a mess and Fane was quick to do a quick scan to make sure she hadn’t been followed knowing it could be a trap. But if the reaction was anything to go by, well, he couldn’t doubt it. The snow was quiet underfoot, until Fane circled around (still in fox form) his head cocking as he looked and then proceeded to yip at the woman to get her attention wondering if she would recognise him. Fane had never told her of his form as an animagus, unregistered (of course) to aid his navigation of the underworld it was easier to keep some things close to the chest.

Faye had stopped crying by the time she heard anything other than her own miserable sounds of grief. She had sobbed so hard, and was now so cold, that she had no tears left. The remnants were frozen on her cheeks. Trapped forever, like a crystal lacrimosa, reminders to whoever would one day find her out here that she had died mourning the loss of… of everything . Because if Fane was gone - the very thought feeling like it was crushing her heart in her chest - then what was the point? She had nothing left to live for. She had done this once already. Lost him. But she had had the fire and stubbornness of youth to push her ahead then. The driving need to avenge the boy she loved. To keep the demons away from the innocent. To keep anyone else from having to lose the love of their life.

So there was no want for vengeance in Faye’s heart now.

She only wanted to join Fane, wherever he was.

She wondered if this was what dying felt like? An acceptance of just… letting go? Perhaps. The sound came again, and Faye turned her head. A little fox stood nearby, black and silver, like the mountains and the sky. Was she that far gone already, that the creatures of the forest saw her as carrion? Though the way the little animal looked at her, it’s eyes… they were so familiar. But muzzy-headed as she was, she couldn’t quite make the connection between the fox and the man she had come so far to find. She could only think that she wouldn’t be alone in her last few moments, even if she would be food for the little fox and the wolves that were sure to follow.

“Is it possible... to die of a broken heart?” The words were said softly, Faye not realizing she’d spoken aloud. Her voice trembled, a combination of grief and encroaching hypothermia. “I thought so… once. Almost twenty years ago now. When I lost… the love of my life… to the dark. We were so young… children playing at things we didn’t understand. Forced to grow up too soon. Forced to be soldiers barely before we’d even been kissed for the first time. And my god I remember that kiss...” Faye sighed. It was a bittersweet sound, but her mouth moved towards a smile.

There was a small moment of silence in which Faye’s eyes closed. It would be so easy, just to never open them again. But a sharp noise pulled her back awake, and she stared up at the clear, dark sky and it’s millions of stars. “‘S pretty here…” she said to the fox. At least she wouldn’t die in a filthy gutter somewhere.

She blinked. A fresh tear rolled down the side of her face, freezing into a tiny crystal droplet on her cheek. There were so many things she wanted to say to Fane. So many things she should have told him already. Things she thought there would be time for. But that was the rub, wasn’t it? There was never time. There was never time, or there was too damn much of it. She’d lost him once, and he’d come back from the dead. A second time was… it was simply too much to hope for, when the first time had been a miracle.

“I’m ready, Fane. I’ve been ready for so long. Almost twenty years.” Ready to be with him, however she could. Even if it meant finding him in another life. In what came after. Faye blinked slowly, the stars growing to bright pinpoints in the velvet blackness above.

“You wondered… why I chose you… when you say... I could’ve had the world?”

A small, tired smile. Faye’s teeth chattered, and her eyelids felt like blocks of ice, dragging her down. She wasn’t speaking to the fox now, but to Fane himself. She could feel his magic as if he were right there with her. It warmed her, and when the tears came again, they were hot and ran like quicksilver down her face.

“Dragostea mea... tu erai lumea mea…”

Faye’s eyes drifted closed, and she grew very still in the snow. She would see Fane soon, and then they would be together again. Forever this time.

It seemed to Fane as he padded closer, little paws leaving tracks in the snow that she didn’t recognise him. Though as he drew closer her distress became more apparent. He wasn’t sure as to what had happened to her since he’d been forced to flee. Roger had been sticking too close for him to gain any real insight, but she was here and she didn’t seem angry, only-- distraught he supposed was the only word that came to his mind. A cold wind blowed over the fields ruffling his fur as he skipped a little closer yipping once more more determined this time to try and get her attention.

She spoke of his letter, answering the question it held and the fox who had been stood by watching her flattened its ears considerably. The fox moved closer, seeking to duck his head under her hand nuzzling against it before drawing back and yipping more intently. Yet still she remained where she was and Fane knew that there was little else for it the fox skittered away before it stilled. A wave of magic, enforced and strengthened by the nearby leys into which he’d tapped shrouded over him. Black and silvery white fur receding as he began to transform back, bones elongating and cracking as he shifted until he climbed from where he knelt, brushing snow from the material of his clothes.

He stepped forwards slowly, unsure how strong the effects of the spell she was formerly under may still be and thus still a little cautious but for the most part concerned for her well-being. Drawing his wand from his sleeve he cast a set of heating charms around them and on her clothes as he moved through the darkness to crouch down beside her. A hand raised to softly brush her hair back affectionate as he touched her warmth from his own skin radiating through to where he touched her now. “Then let us have that time now shall we love?”

From somewhere far away, Faye felt the warm softness of the little fox as it pushed beneath her hand. She didn’t move, other than a twitch of her fingers at the sensation. It was warm where she was, like being under a favored blanket by a fire, with the one you loved curled up at your side. The high-pitched sounds only made her frown slightly, penetrating the thick murkiness of her consciousness like bright, echoing pinpoints of light. Like the stars that had glittered in the far off darkness of the Romanian sky. But even the little animal’s insistence wasn’t quite enough to draw her back from where the cold and the toll the last few weeks had taken on her mind and body had taken her.

Her breath was barely a puff of air over lips tinted blue. It was short and shallow, hardly warm enough to make a cloud in the frigid night air. Even with the heating charms, Faye only shivered, hands opening and closing as they seemed to seek out something to hold on to. It was until Fane brushed her face that she responded. His touch so familiar, so ingrained into her subconscious, that almost instantly she turned towards it. And when he spoke, voice still as dark and beautiful as she remembered, Faye’s eyelids fluttered.

They fluttered, and she made a soft sound of pain low in her throat. His outline was blurry, but she would know him anywhere. His magic thrummed against her, familiar and comforting, twining around her and over her and through her blood and her bones. Through her very soul. Her eyes were her own, a vivid plum-violet, but still streaked with a sickly blue that pulsed with every slow beat of Faye’s heart. She didn’t realize he was alive, and standing over her in a field of snow in the middle of the Romanian wilderness. All Faye knew was that he was here. He had come for her at the end of all things. He would always come for her. As she would him.

She found enough strength to raise her hand and grip his wrist. “Yes… take me home…” Her eyes slipped closed again, and her hand fell away from his arm. “Take me home…”

#hp au #au #scene #fragments

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

Hey, Ocean! For DADWC, how about “You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.” For whichever of your OCs/pairings is calling to you tonight.

Oh! Haaave you met Dahlia? She’s Varric’s kid with my Shale Lavellan from my “Gilded Leaves” ship/series.

Post-game, after the War of the Evanuris. (Solas weakened the Veil but didn’t sunder it, and the Evanuris effectively destroyed themselves... or did they?)

@dadrunkwriting

==

“You know, your tattoos crinkle when you’re upset. It’s kinda cute, actually.”

Shale arches a brow at him. “You think it’s cute when I’m mad?”

“No, no no, I said it’s cute when your tattoos crinkle. Makes you look…” Varric waves his hand absentmindedly. “Real. Less ethereal.” He slants a look at her. “Have I mentioned how nice you look today?”

“Varric…”

“It’s okay, Willow. Dahlia’s fine. Ironbark and the Hero have been keeping her busy and out of trouble. She’s just a teenager, you know how that goes.”

Shale shakes her head, lips tightening into a thin line. “I don’t,” she admits, “not really. I came to Clan Lavellan when I was just a child but never felt like I truly belonged there.” She huffs a pained laugh. “By the–”

She cuts herself off with a wince.

Oh, Creators, she thinks inwardly, though there are no gods to hear her now. Not since the war.

“Anyway,” Varric says, pulling Shale from her thoughts, “it’s already done, right? We can’t be too mad at her. Miscarriage of justice and such. Sets a bad precedent.”

“I think Aveline would like to discuss the definition of ‘justice’ with you again, in that case,” Shale remarks.

The ship comes in over the horizon, and her stomach leaps. Dahlia–their precious little flower, still so green and tender–is somewhere on that massive boat, and her heart can’t take being apart much longer. Is this how Deshanna felt when Shale left for her own training? The exquisite agony of being pulled apart and sewn together again in each breath?

They wait at the docks for an hour-long millennia, watching the Siren’s Call II make her way to the Kirkwall docks, and only Varric’s firm hand at her elbow keeps Shale from throwing herself up the gangplank when the ship finally takes her berth. They wait, patiently, the picturesque Viscount and Viscountess, as families reunite.

The disembarking slows to a trickle and Shale’s worry eats at her throat.

“Where is she?” she whispers, unable to take her eyes off the ship. “Varric, where is our daughter?”

“Willow–”

Shale is halfway to the damn boat when slender arms wrap around her waist and spin her off-course. 

“Andaran atishan, mamae!“

She bursts into tears and pulls Dalia into her embrace, whisps of magic curling into soft vines around them.

“Da’len, ma da’vhenan, I’ve missed you so much.” Shale clutches her close and presses sharp, insistent kisses to Dahlia’s face and brow. “You’ve grown so tall!” A soft sob works its way up her throat and she pulls Dahlia closer, tighter, nestling her cheek against her soft hair. “You are in such fucking trouble.”

“But mam–”

“Such. Fucking. Trouble.”

Shale finds Varric’s gaze over Dahlia’s shoulder and he smiles before joining them. Her hand fits easily in his, and together they pull their wayward daughter from the docks.

The journey to Hightown goes by in a blur and suddenly they’re pulling each other over the threshold of the Viscount’s Keep, and in a few steps into the private apartments afforded to the city’s leaders. The door clicks behind them and Shale immediately whirls on her daughter. 

“You said you were going to spend the summer in the Hinterlands with the People, not–not–go gallivanting off to some ruins! You know it’s dangerous, Dahlia!”

“We were in the Hinterlands!” Dahlia says with a wince, throwing up her hands. “Well, kinda. For most of the summer, anyway. Thom was working on re-fortifying Haven after some weird reports and opening up the road to Skyhold more–Uncle Bull says hello, by the way, and that we should visit–and it’s not my fault that there was a thingy!”

Varric laughs and quickly covers it with a cough, his eyes bright. “A thingy.”

“Yeah,” Dahlia says, and she pantomimes an object, half her height and round. “A thingy. In the ruins under Haven. It glowed when Skyhold’s keeper got close, and, well…”

“Well?”

“It… worked?” Dahlia shrugs sheepishly and throws her hands up in defense. “It’s not my fault,” she hurries to say, “and no one got hurt!”

Varric pinches his nose. “Kiddo,” he says tiredly, “we already knew that.”

“Then why are you so mad?” Dahlia whines.

“Because you lied about it, da’vhenan! Because you ran off with the Chargers and lied to us! You–” Her words disintegrate into a wordless, frustrated groan. “I need some tea.” Shale stalks off to the kitchen.

“Mamae, wait!”

“Hold on, Kiddo,” Varric says behind her. “Let her make some tea and cool down. You and I need to talk.”

Shale bristles; she can hear him easily from the kitchen, and he’s right–she’s drawn a mug of water and has already stuck her finger in it to boil. “Damn that man,” she mutters, even as she fights a smile.

“You’re not in trouble for lying,” Varric says lowly, and Shale almost yells out across the apartment to correct him before he speaks again. “You’re in trouble for lying badly, and there’s a difference.”

Dahlia mumbles something Shale can’t hear, and, mug steaming between her hands, Shale moves to the hallway just out of sight.

“Now, see, your mother has the patience of a saint, and the suspicion of a ghast, and you should have known that we would keep an eye on you,” Varric goes on to say. “You’re only fifteen, and the war’s not that long gone. We worried, Dahlia.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Dahlia says, and Shale can hear the tears in her voice.

“I know you are,” he murmurs. “But you’ve gotta see it our way; your kid says she’s spending the summer in the Hinterlands then tears ass out to the Dales–crossing the whole damn border, to boot–and doesn’t write home about it? And then, when she does, it doesn’t include anything about the trip. Top it off, her aunt and uncle both swear that your kid says she had permission for the trip. How are we supposed to feel about that?”

“I… I just wanted to know where we’re from,” Dahlia sniffles. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk and run off, I just… had to see it for myself. You should have been there, Papae. The artifact worked and it showed me the Dales, all vibrant and green and lush, nothing like what you described from the Inquisition days.”

“And was it?”

“…no. It wasn’t. I… I don’t know what I saw, or what I was supposed to see out there.”

Shale wipes her eyes free of the tears that threaten to fall before entering the room. “Did you at least have a mage with you while you were there?” she asks, striding into the parlor.

Dahlia darts a pained look up, guilt written clear across her face. “Dalish said she didn’t want to take the ride out, and Bull didn’t want too big of a party across the border, anyway.”

“Oh, da’vhenan,” Shale breathes. Her tea gets left on a table and she kneels at Dahlia’s feet, palms pulsing with soft, green waves of magic. “Can I?” She hums at Dahlia’s baleful nod and brings her hands to her daughter’s temples, cradling her face between her hands and looking.

“Elara called the Keeper as soon as I came back to Redcliffe, mamae,” Dahlia says softly. “There’s no demons, we don’t think. There haven’t been any signs.”

Shale meets her eyes. “You can’t be too careful now,” she says, just as quietly.

“Definitely not in the Dales, and especially not in Kirkwall,” Varric mutters. “See anything in there, Willow?”

Shale shakes her head and pulls Dahlia to her feet to hold her against her breast. “No. Thank the Creators–” the phrase tastes like ashes in her mouth and she runs her hands through Dahlia’s dark hair to distract herself “–no. Thank the Keeper. And Bull.”

“And Elara,” Varric points out, “for not strangling you with that fancy prosthetic.”

She hums and pulls Varric into their awkward huddle. “Don’t you ever do this to us again, Dahlia,” she murmurs into the spaces between them. “I was so mad. I was writing to Redcliffe and Skyhold every day after I got Elara’s letter. We all were so worried.”

“Ir abelas, mamae. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just… needed to know.”

Varric sighs and rubs his hands over their shoulders. “What is it about you Lavellan women running off into the woods?” he says with a smile. “It’s almost like you’re all related or something. Andraste’s flaming knickers.”

Shale can’t help the laugh that bubbles in her throat. Dahlia’s arm squeezes around her middle and she tightens her own hold in response. “I’m just glad you’re home, and you’re safe.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m not letting you out of my sight for a year.”

“Mamae!”

Varric snorts. “Don’t make it two,” he warns in mock seriousness.

“Papae!”

Dahlia tries to pull away but Shale and Varric both simply hold her tighter between them until she stops squirming, resigned to the suffocating embrace.

“I’ll be good,” she sighs. “No more running off.”

“Good,” Shale murmurs into her hair. “Now you have some very important letters to write to everyone, don’t you?”

“Uuuuuugh.”

Varric grins, knife-sharp and happy. “That one’s almost worthy of the Seeker,” he says brightly, and Dahlia finally succeeds in her escape, peeling away to leave her parents in the sitting room.

“She’s gonna be okay, Shale,” he murmurs. Varric pulls her with him and settles in on the chair so recently vacated. “She’s just growing up and finding her way around the world.”

“I just worry,” she says back. “It’s not been long since the war. Anti-elf sentiment is still rampant. I wasn’t sure if we should have let her go in the first place, and then…”

He pets her hair, his thick fingers carding through her long red locks. “It’s okay,” he reminded her. “She’s home, safe and sound. Everything worked out.”

Shale leans against his chest and nuzzles her cheek against his temple. “I love you,” she murmurs, “but she’s spending the next three months with Aveline.”

“Shit, Willow.” He laughs, his body shaking in mirth, and splays his hands across her back. “What’d Red ever do to you?”

#Shale Lavellan #Varric Tethras #Lavellan x Varric #Varric x Lavellan #series: gilded leaves #Dahlia Lavellan-Tethras #soulrebel writes #prompt fills #da drunk writing circle #lyrium-lovesong

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Disarm: Part 4.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: 5 years is a long time. WTH, John. More Disarm, pretty please 🙏🏻

Ask, and you shall receive... Mod MBD <3 

Running her mouth softly over the expanse of Jamie’s chest, Claire lapped at the stray droplets of water that remained on his torso.

“How the fuck did you wait ten years, Jamie?” Claire asked softly, her tongue drawing patterns around his nipples as he gasped and tried desperately to hold himself still. “I’ve had you naked...beneath me…” she whispered, the wisps of her breath glancing across his skin as she spoke, “...for only two days now and I can’t get enough of you Jamie Fraser.”

“Damned if I know, Claire.” Jamie returned in a broken whimper, his whole body aching to be inside her again. “But I canna bear to be wi’out you now, not after last night.”

Memories of their illicit encounter in the shower returned to Claire as she slipped her left hand beneath the elastic of Jamie’s boxer shorts and played teasingly with the hair on his groin. “What about the night before that?” She murmured, her hand cupping his balls gently as she rocked her hips idly against his leg.

“Jesus, Claire,” he sighed, turning his body and pinning her beneath him in one swift motion, “I’ve watched ye wi’ another man for a whole decade - every encounter we’ve had over the last forty-eight hours is permanently imprinted on my brain for life, aye? Every moment cemented onto my skin as if ye’ve always been there.”

“Fuck me, Jamie.” She begged, her head falling backwards as she exposed her long throat, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as she tried to writhe closer to him. “Please.”

“No, a ghraidh,” he returned quietly, his hips rolling slowly as she removed his boxers by hooking her toes through the waist and peeling them downwards with all the force that she could muster, “no’ *fucking*, not after all this time.”

“You can do whatever you like,” Claire interjected as frantic bursts of lust shot through her, “just don’t stop now.”

“Hush, mo nighean donn,” he cooed, shimmying his hips solidly against her as he hummed his words against her lips, “I want ye, badly.”

“Good,” she nodded, her hands lacing in his hair now as she waited patiently for him to make his move, “because I want you too. Too bloody much.” She moaned, thrusting her hips against him as if to prove to him - without a shadow of a doubt - that she did. “I can’t breathe, Jamie, please,” she begged one final time, her lungs struggling to concentrate on forcing the oxygen around her body whilst she was so intoxicated by the presence of him.

It was slightly surreal to both of them how quickly they’d fallen into each other's arms. Even with the complete shattering of Claire’s relationship neither of them could quite understand their current predicament. Jamie, of course, had wanted for it for so long. Even his sister, Jenny, knew about his heartbreaking crush. But he’d never thought anything would come of it. Claire, who’d been less aware of the silent connection she and Jamie had shared for the past ten years, was even more perplexed. But her body was doing the talking now and even with the ghost of John still hovering in the background of her shakey new life, she’d -rather adeptly- accepted the demise of her marriage and the speedy resurgence of her almost long forgotten sex life at the hands of her best friend.

“What are we going to do, Claire?” Jamie sighed against her mouth as he kissed her softly, savouring each and every inch of her mouth.

“Well,” Claire replied calmly, “I was rather hoping that you’d *do* me?”

Smiling, Jamie nipped her bottom lip, leaving his teeth marks on her skin for just a moment. “Dinna change the subject, sassenach. Ye ken how I feel for you, but I want to know how ye feel, aye? Do you want me, or--”

“Yes, Jamie,” Claire replied, her legs slackening a little as she brought one hand across the broad plains of his cheek bones to rest neatly under his chin, “I want you. I know it’s sudden, this spark that has ignited between the two of us.” Swallowing the build up of excess moisture that was gathering in her mouth, she leaned upwards, bent her head to the side and kissed him with as much fervour as she could muster. “I don’t truly understand it,” she continued when they stopped to draw breath again, “I can’t pretend that I do, but I can’t fight it either, Jamie.”

“Yer so beautiful, Claire,” he returned, “I’ve fought wi’ myself over this so much that I find myself unable to believe yer here now. I want to pinch myself to make sure it’s real.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’m here. It’s definitely me.”

“Aye, it is.” He whispered lowly. “Ye canna deny though, Claire, how long you buried yer feelings for me. I saw it, after ye lost William. After I-” stumbling, Jamie swallowed his words as the memory of the attack that left him half scarred and bleeding to death on the floor of an abandoned warehouse reared its ugly head again.

“It’s alright, Jamie,” Claire soothed, seeing the abject desolation appear behind Jamie’s eyes, “you don’t have to remind me of it, you don’t have to take yourself there. I know. I do. I-” she sighed, her fingers moving to ghost over the jagged lines that ran up and down the battered muscles of his back, “if there was anything I could do to go back and change that part of your life, I would move heaven and earth to do it, Jamie, love.”

Shifting his hips forward, Jamie thrust himself inside Claire in one easy movement, his chest shaking minutely as he moulded his lips to hers in an attempt to lose himself in her.

The failed attempt on his life had come only a mere month after Claire’s miscarriage. He’d been a high ranking police office, a credit to the Glasgow force, and as such had been included in a number of high profile arrests over the years. His boss, an ambitious man by nature, had capitalised on Jamie’s good fortune and street smarts and had given him access to some pretty monstrous criminals in the hopes that Jamie would catch and bring them to justice. Watching as Claire fell into the darkest of depressions with the loss of her baby and - in part - the abandonment she’d felt at the hands of John, Jamie had thrown himself into work to try and absolve himself of the abject misery he felt at being so helpless. He loved Claire and he was pretty sure she harboured some deep feelings for him. Her miscarriage had only brought them closer together. But the closer they seemed to get, the harder Claire seemed to battle against it. She was, after all, still married to John, whether she wanted to admit it or not. And although John seemed fairly absent, he was still her husband. Torment blinded him to the horrors that he was about to find himself bathed in and it was only when he’d found himself alone and without backup in an old abandoned warehouse on a beaten down estate that his eyes had been opened to all of the facts that he *should* have noticed before.

“I love ye so much, Claire,” he gasped, trying to rid himself of the images, the dark recesses of his mind conjuring visuals that caused his body to convulse in silent agony. Their evening had gone from desperate need, to passion, to anxious grief in a heartbeat.

Sensing Jamie’s need, Claire wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his arse closer and grinding against him, sealing their bodies together intimately. “You’re safe, Jamie,” she muttered against his mouth as she kissed him, their eyes open and locked as he loved her cautiously, his hips making delicate motions as he held himself above her. “You and I, we’re here together. Nobody can hurt us when we’re one like this...n-nobody.”

Breathing lightly, Jamie pushed his hips flush against Claire’s, his eyes blinking slowly as he retained as much contact with Claire as possible.

The waking nightmare was beginning to subside now, the motions of Claire’s thighs surrounding him giving him the strength to battle his internal demons. He could almost feel the vibrations rushing through her as she coaxed him back into the light. He’d confessed his love for her the moment he’d had the chance but he knew she’d find it much harder to allow herself to finally feel the same for him. But here, now, with him wrapped securely around her, he could almost feel the walls crumbling.

His own personal hell had paved the way for her own recovery. Together, they had purged the putrid tar of their ordeals from one another and promptly eased back into their old lives as if none of it had happened. Now though, in the wake of John’s infidelity and Jamie’s newfound honesty, Claire had found it almost impossible to resist the lure of their past connection.

Bracing himself, Jamie basked in the warmth Claire exuded. Placing his forehead against hers, he pushed himself forward, his chest feeling significantly lighter now as if each steady, controlled movement was bringing her closer to confessing her own - previously hidden - feelings.

He wanted it.

He needed it.

As much as he required oxygen to breathe, he needed to hear Claire say those precious words - ones he’d imagined her saying in his dreams from the day he’d met her. Now that her sense of honour had been severed, Jamie felt certain Claire would eventually admit her own appreciation for him - even if it wasn’t *love* just yet.

“F-fuck,” she cursed loudly, sweat dripping down the tight arch of her back as she bucked against him. “Fuck it, Jamie, I love you too.” She cried out, coming undone as the pulsating rhythm of his hips brought her to orgasm beneath him. Holding his bum securely, Claire flopped helplessly against the mattress, her chest rising and falling erratically as she tried to stay conscious long enough to see, feel and hear Jamie join her in oblivion. She hoped, sleepily, that her words would do the trick, her lust-filled mind far too high on the touch of his body to worry that it was far too soon for that confession.

“Oh God, Claire.” Jamie whispered, tremors running down his legs as his knees shook with the pressure of holding himself upright. “I canna waste anymore time. I love ye so damn much.” He continued, punctuating each word with a deep kiss as he jerked, groaned, stilled and fell wordlessly to the side, gathering her up against his chest as he panted deliriously in the aftermath. “I’m yours, Claire,” he said finally, as the world fell quiet around them, “and I dinna want to exist any longer wi’out ye in my life, ken?”

“You don’t have to, Jamie,” Claire returned, yawning and settling against him as she let her palm run softly over his damp belly, “I’m filling for a divorce. No more lies. No more cover-ups. Not anymore.”

“You’ll tell John?” Jamie asked, trying to keep the faint dash of excitement from his voice as he spoke.

“As much as he let me down, Jamie, yes. I think he deserves to know.”

“Do ye think he’ll believe we didna come together until after ye’d found out about him and -- ye ken?”

Biting her lip in nervous anticipation, Claire placed a soft kiss against Jamie’s neck before she spoke. “Honestly? I don’t care what he thinks. But, yes, I know he will. You know I can’t lie about anything. You all used to tease me about it, remember?”

“Oh aye,” Jamie replied, smiling at the memory of their younger years, “a glass face, we used to say, if I recall correctly. Ye never could hold anything back from us.”

Sighing deeply, Claire pulled the covers further up and over her shoulder until she was neatly cocooned between the thick sheets and Jamie’s warm body. “No and I’m grateful for it.’

“Aye, and why is that?” Jamie replied nuzzling the top of Claire’s head as he closed his eyes, fatigue sweeping over him in the dull heat of his bedroom.

“Because otherwise you might have given up on me as a lost cause years ago and married someone else - someone better.” She said quietly. “But you knew didn’t you? How hard I tried to conceal myself from you, you knew all along?”

“I think I hoped more than kent, Claire,” Jamie conceded. “After a while I just stopped trying to read ye. It hurt too much to see ye wi’ John, despite our friendship but I always thought I saw a twinge of something in yer eye. And after -- weel, ye ken what,” he said sadly, “I kent, no matter what, we’d always have a special connect wi’ one another so it didna matter, truly, that it might no’ be love. It just was and it was enough.”

“But it was love,” Claire murmured, her lips moving slowly now as she began to fall asleep, exhaustion pulling her under as a tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I just wasn’t brave enough to let myself feel it.”

“Ye were brave, my Claire. So brave, and loyal too. Ye’d made a commitment to John and your vows meant something to you. Until death do ye part. It’s what I loved most about you,” he said, watching as she fell asleep in his arms, “that and yer fierce passion. Wi’out you,” he confessed, his eyes closing now as he joined her in peaceful slumber, “I wouldna even be alive today, sassenach. You saved my life, mo nighean donn, and mended my broken heart.”  

#;Mod MBD #disarm #jamie x claire

[notyoursterotypicalnerd]

Arrows and Lust - part 2

Part 1 Masterlist

Summary: With Clint gone out of a mission; you find out your pregnant. Something neither of you had planned but now that Clint was back. Could two people who were just friends with benefits turn into something else?

Word Count:5808

Warnings: Swearing, Abortion (mentioned) ,Miscarriage and car crash. Overall this may just rip your heart out and leave you in tears. I know I struggled with writing it.

Put this playlist on shuffle while reading- https://open.spotify.com/user/lauraann19/playlist/1FfCKtWluL1ByBqNun89j1?si=OZKbxD_VSDmW5Q6eszxVpg

Author’s note: I wasn’t going to add a part 2 but I started thinking of this and thought it’d tie in to the part one. I also did some quick research on Hawkeye, so I hope I did the character justice and don’t annoy his fans. Also, I’m sorry if it seems quite long I didn’t want to break this up into separate parts, I wanted to keep all of part 2 together especially if I came up with another idea for part 3...if I write a part 3.  

For  six months you hadn’t contacted Clint Barton and for six months he hadn’t contacted you; it wasn’t unusual. He was on duty after all and had made it clear from the very first time he left you after a night of passion that his life part of SHIELD would come first and that he paid full attention to what was going in front of him.

The two of you weren’t in a relationship, you were after all just a one-night stand turned into a friend with benefits. You didn’t care; it was perfect. You weren’t the greatest person to be around, society labelled you as a loner. Turns out Clint Barton was quite a loner too which is what made the two of you perfect together.

There wasn’t much you knew about Hawkeye; It had taken three months into the sexual relationship to find out that he was partially deaf and hated when you made a fuss about it. It wasn’t a major fuss that you made but you did get a bit pissed that he hadn’t told you sooner. Why did it matter? He just used you for your body.

You leaned back in the chair; your hands placed on your small baby bump. Five months along. Being pregnant scared you; You didn’t want kids. What man could love you anyway? You didn’t even think Clint loved you; he never said it too you nor had you said it to him.

“Thank you” You smiled as the waiter placed a cup of hot chocolate and muffin down on the table. You looked across the road; you felt like a stalker watching the old Stark Towers turned Avengers Tower, you weren’t even sure if anyone still used the building.

You took a sip of the hot chocolate; You were used to being away from Clint, but this time felt different; this time you felt lost without him. You wanted to tell him about the baby, but you shook your head trying to rid the thought from your mind. Did Clint even want to be a dad?

Beginning to bite into the muffin, trying not to lose yourself in your thoughts. The thoughts that you’ve had since you found out you were pregnant. It was quite funny, you and Clint had been fucking each other on and off for a year and the two of you were never careful; there had been times when you thought you were pregnant but you never told Clint, he didn’t need to know; by now your Doctor knew that the minute your named popped up on his patient list, he knew what you were after and not only would he give you the prescription you were chasing but also hand you a dozen condoms each time. Those still sat in your bedside table draw waiting to be used.

By the time you had finished your muffin; you watched as a black car pulled up in front of the Avengers Tower, not being able to see in due to the tinted windows on the car you carefully watched but no one got out. You jumped a little when you heard your phone buzz with a message.

You slide open the message and smiled when you saw the image that had appeared; you knew that body anywhere.

The photo was a carefully angled image of a male from the chest down wearing briefs; another message came through with the words Miss me?

You defiantly did miss him, but you sighed when you realised that he would need you for welcome back sex. We need to talk you texted him.

Are you okay? There was a reply message.

You looked over at the car than looked up at the sky as a plane landed on the helipad of the Avengers Tower before turning your attention back to your phone another message had been sent through I’ll meet you at the usual place.

You stood up and grabbed your handbag before heading down the street to your car; Clint had taught you to never keep your car nearby just in case someone was watching you; He may not have admitted it, but he was quite protective of you. The only time you broke that rule was when you parked your car in the barn that was located on the same property of the cabin.

Driving through the streets; You had to think of what to say to Clint. How would he react? You had only seen one side of him and that was the side you loved the most. You pressed the windows up button on the car door armrest as you hit the dirt road. You could see Clint’s car was already in the driveway.

You pulled up behind him; You watched as he stepped out of his car and walked over to you. Your hands felt like they were stuck on the stirring wheel.

“Breath” you said to yourself “Breath” you repeated.

Clint smiled when he saw you; That smile made you melt. Did he know what he was doing to you? He reached for the car door handle before pulling the door open “y/n” Clint wasn’t for pet names.

You moved your hands from steering wheel before noticing his facial expression.

“Your pregnant?” Clint stepped back.

You looked down at your bump before placing your hands on your stomach.

“Uh...Um...Congratulations” Clint wasn’t sure how to react; he reached his hand out to you, your grabbed it using his hand to help you out of the car “Uh...Um…How far?”

“Five months.” You thought Clint had seen a ghost with the way he looked; You leaned against the backseat door.

“I bet you and the baby’s father are happy” Clint felt like he had lost the best thing in his life. The one thing in his life that he had become attached to.

You shrugged slightly “He would be if…...” you trailed off your sentence.

“I’m sorry” Clint thought you meant that the baby’s father was dead. He went to sit down on the porch steps.

You took a deep breath trying to find your words to tell him; He looked up at you, he could sense that something about you was off. “Itsyours” You blurted out.

Clint looked confused; you spoke too fast for him to understand what you had said.

You closed your eyes for a moment before reopening them “The baby is yours” you repeated slowly.

Clint shook his head trying to wrap his head around the words you just spoke; Seeing him shake his head broke your heart, it made it seem like he didn’t want the baby.

“I’m sorry” You bite your lower lip trying to hold back tears; you lowered your head as you felt your eyes water.

Clint looked at your baby bump; Seeing you lean against the car, the bump was only just noticeable underneath your dress; trying to hide the bump.

You looked up at Clint “I’m Sorry” you repeated as tears rolled down your cheek; you climbed back into your car before slamming the car door shut and driving off. You could see it in Clint’s expression, He wasn’t a family man. He was a love and leave them man, you could see the heartbreak and confusion scrawled all over his expression as you reverse out the yard. He hadn’t moved from the steps as you drove away.

Clint ran his fingers through his short light brown hair “FUCK!” He screamed out. He had let you leave; he had let you leave in tears. “FUCK!” He screamed out again. Clint jumped up to his feet; he wanted to chase after you but there was something inside of him that was stopping him instead he went inside the cabin that the two of you regularly used.

The place was clean; he wasn’t a person who lived in a clean space, he noticed the two coffee mugs still sitting on the kitchen bench; He picked one up and threw at the wall “FUCK!” He screamed yet again watching as the mug shattered against the wall; he grabbed the second mug and did the same thing watching as the piece dropped to the floor “She’s pregnant!” He said to himself “She’s pregnant!” Clint screamed. He went to kick the fridge but stopped when he saw your handwriting scribble on a note that was pinned under a magnet.

He pulled the note down; the way you curled his name in your handwriting. He unfolded the paper before reading

Clint,

Another night in your arms, another mission with you I know you said that we shouldn’t catch feelings because this isn’t that type of relationship. But last night, when you told me you were leaving.

I just want to say,

I love you.

Through your handwriting; he noted the words poorly lined out. The one that caught his attention was I love you, he read those three words over and over. You loved him; No one loved him, no one told him that they loved him.

“I love you” He said out loud to himself; to him it felt weird to say those words. He couldn’t remember the last time he had told someone that he loved him, maybe the last time he had told someone was when he was too wasted to care about the sentences that he tried to string together.

He looked up from the note seeing the bed perfectly made; the bed that the two of you had messed up countless times. He believed the two of you were polar opposites; he scrunched the note in his hand.

“She’s toying with you” Clint said to himself “She’s just messing with you. No way that baby is yours” He said as he walked towards the bathroom; pushing the door open, his mouth dropped when he noticed several pairs of your panties were draped over the bathroom sink and several pairs of your bras hung over the shower screens edge; he looked at the bathroom mirror seeing the lipstick stained word Waiting.

He sat down on the toilet seat; the only place in the small bathroom that he could sit down, he reached up and grabbed one of your bra’s off the shower’s screen edge; he remembered the one he held in his hand. The one that you wore the first time he fucked you, the one he didn’t want you to take off. He felt the purple lace between his fingers; He remembered the first time the two of you meet.

He was sitting alone at the bar; he had a rough day not that he was any different to any other day of the week; he had spotted you at the other end of the bar watching as you tried to pull away from some creep that wanted to take advantage of you; no one cared that you were trying to push the creep away, Clint had already downed three drinks when he had the courage to walk over to you and wrap his arms around you “Sorry baby for being late.”

The creep had looked at Clint; the creep had felt defeated, he looked at you “Next time” he threatened before heading back to his drunken friends. Clint kept his arms around you as he watched the creep. When Clint thought the moment was safety defused; he pulled his arms away and sat down next to you.

Without asking; Clint brought you one drink which turned into two drinks which turned into three drinks soon; The bartender had cut the two of you off when he believed he had served a combined twenty drinks between the two of you. Clint shrugged, he was wasted but not wasted enough to lead you out of the bar. That night neither of you had did any talking; you hadn’t even thanked him for keeping you safe during the night. It didn’t take long after the two of you had stepped outside of the bar before you were all over each other, neither of you remembered how you ended up in a hotel room completely naked but neither of you cared.

Clint leaned back against the toilet breaking his thoughts of the firs time he meet you; He looked at the scrunched-up note in his hand “She loves me” He turned his gaze to the bra in his hand “She’s pregnant with my baby.” Clint smiled a little; he never thought of being a dad, he was too much of a fighter to care about raising a family.

Clint jumped to his feet; dropping the note and bra down on the bathroom floor before running out of the cabin and too his car. “Shit!” He said as he sat in the driver seat. Clint didn’t know where you lived both of you had agreed to just use the cabin flat out refusing to let each other cross the line of getting to know each other.

He scrolled through his phone looking for a number of someone who could help him; he pressed the call button when he found the perfect number.

“It’s vacation, Barton.” Fury voice spoke on the other end of the phone.

“I know man, but I need a favour” Clint admitted as he started his car.

“You want me to track the girl down, don’t you?” Fury asked.

Clint used his free hand to change gears before grabbing the steering wheel and pulling out of the driveway “Please.”

Fury knew Clint Barton well enough; He knew that in past year Clint had changed not that it had affected any tasks that Fury threw Hawkeyes way “Is she really worth it?”

Clint stopped when he pulled out of the driveway “She’s having my baby. She’s defiantly worth it” Clint admitted couldn’t believe he had said those words but those were the words that had slipped out of his mouth.

Fury could hear it in the guy’s tone, he had never heard Clint say anything similar to She’s defiantly worth it about another person “Right”. Clint could hear Fury touch the computer keys. The two males knew each other well enough; Clint didn’t even need to say your name when Fury searched you up, Clint didn’t even need to describe you. Fury remembered you from the one time he had seen you through the cabin windows.

Clint looked at the map  coordinates that had appeared on the car gps “Thanks Fury, I owe you one.” Clint hung up before following the instructions given by the gps.  He drove down main roads before the gps voice said, “You have reached your destination.”

Clint seemed confused; There were buildings everywhere, cars parked to the side of the road. He chucked a U-turn before driving around trying to find any inkling of you; He stopped when he saw your car parked on the side of the road. He pulled into a carapace a few metres away from yours. Clint raced up to your car and looked at the buildings around him. Which one were you? One of the countless coffee shops? Maybe the bar? One of the countless hotels?

He could see through the coffee shop windows and the bar windows; he couldn’t see you. He was going to try his hand at the hotels. Clint calmly walked over to the doorman at the first hotel. He began to describe you to the doorman, but the doorman shook his head before Clint rushed over to the next one; again, the doorman had said no. He had gotten five no’s but he wasn’t going to give up on trying to find you.  Clint began to describe you to the sixth door man when he replied the reply of the doorman, Clint almost jumped up and down “Which floor?”

“30th floor.” The doorman replied; he watched as Clint raced inside before stopping in front of the elevator.

“Fuck” He hushed to himself; The elevators needed a hotel key which Clint didn’t have, his eyes scanned around for the stairwell door. Clint ran over and pushed the door open before rushing up the stairs; His eyes flicked over each number that was on the backs of the countless doors going up the stairwell. Clint stopped at the door of the 30th floor; he caught his breath, he could chase after monsters without breaking a sweat but racing up 30 sets of stairs for you had caused him to lose his breath.

He pulled open the door stepping out into the hallway feeling the aircon hit his skin; He wiped the back of his jacket sleeve over his face trying to rid some of the sweat dripping down. Which room was yours? His eyes scanned the various room numbers as he paced throughout the floor.

Clint smiled a little when he sensed that familiar scent; the scent that you always wore when you left the cabin; a vanilla mixed coconut scent, he let his nose lead him to you. Clint stopped in front of your door as he tried to find the words he’d say to you. He looked down at the door handle seeing a do not disturb sign.

Clint knocked on the door; he kept his head low as he noticed the peephole.

“Read the sign”

Clint knocked again.

“Read the si….”

His eyes drifted up slightly as the door opened a crack; the chain on the door stopped it from opening further; He could see that you had been crying.

“Can we talk?” Clint lifted up his head.

“Why?” you questioned him “To tell me that your play thing is no longer needed?”

Clint scrunched up his face in annoyance “No.” He wanted to explain “Please, I just want to talk.”

You were about to close the door in his face, but he had jammed his foot in the small crack of the doorway “Please.” He whimpered.

“Move your foot.” You complained.

“I’m not leaving until we’ve talked.” Clint admitted.

“Well I can’t take the chain off with your foot in the way.” You mentioned.

Clint quickly pulled his foot back; you closed the door, but you weren’t going to open it back up. He looked down seeing your shadow move away from the door. “Come on y/n, I just want to talk” He called out.

You leaned against the wall; your hands against your baby bump.

-          -  -

You had gone silent in your apartment; Clint was sitting down across from your door leaning against the wall waiting for any sign from you.  He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t leaving.

You looked through the peephole of the door; Clint looked like a lost puppy. You pulled the chain off it’s hook before opening the door; Clint’s eyes wondered up to your face.

“Five minutes.” You calmly said to him.

Clint rose up to his feet; he had been waiting three hours for you to come out to him and all you wanted to give him was five minutes. You walked over to the lounge before sitting down, Clint closed the door behind before noting your apartment.

It was clean and organised but there was no signs of photos of loved ones  around the place. A couple of books were stacked under the coffee table while everything else was neatly hidden in it’s place. This was defiantly different to him; His room in the avengers tower was trashed everything of his was thrown around the room from the amount of frustration and anger he had.

He stepped in front of the tv; He knew you as a rough naughty girl but inside the walls of your apartment you looked anything but rough and ready; you looked innocent. He watched as you rubbed your stomach.

“Four minutes remaining” You said as you looked up at Clint.

Clint sighed before speaking “I’m sorry, okay.” He began “I’m not good at this. I’m good at pushing people away, I’m good at fucking everything up” He admitted his eyes held their attention on your stomach “When I meet you, we were just a fling. Someone I could use just for one thing” His hand rubbed the back of his neck “I’m not capable of getting close to someone but the minute I saw you that night, the minute you walked out of the room the first time we fucked” He let a small awkward laugh slip from his lips “I couldn’t get you out of my head. I tracked you down just for the sake of getting to touch you again and again.”

You weren’t sure if Clint was being sweet or being creepy but hearing those words did feel little good to hear.

“We fuck,that’s what we do.” His eyes moved up to your eyes “I saw your note this morning and the display in the bathroom.”

You blushed a little.

“I’m still trying to wrap everything around my mind. When you said you needed to talk, I thought that maybe you wanted to quit” Clint waved his hands back and forth in front of him indicting motion of you and I “I thought maybe you had found someone else. I sat in my car waiting for you thinking that you had finally found happiness with someone else.” That sentence had changed in tone when he spoke; hearing the heartache in his voice, seeing the heartbreak written over his face “When I saw you pull up, all those thoughts disappeared but your stomach.”  He looked away from you “Those thoughts came back. I said I would be gone for a few weeks which turned into six months seeing your stomach made me think that you had moved on.”

Clint’s eyes quickly shifted to you as you rose from the lounge. Four minutes were probably up but you were going to hear Clint out.

“Than you told me it was mine” He pinched the bridge of his nose “I never thought about having a family of my own. I was part of one but that was because I’ve spent enough time around those guys that it’s kinda” He shrugged a little “Expected to, after a while everyone just clicks” Clint shrugged again.

The coffee table kept the two of you apart.

“Clint, I was going to tell you, but I know what your like. You had told me countless times that you keep your mind on the game in front of you than worrying about things that weren’t involved.” You admitted “I don’t know anyone that you know, I couldn’t reach out to them and let you know.” You sadly stated “Before you ask, I contemplate getting an abortion. I never wanted to be a mother”

Those words had stung Clint a little.

“I was just going to shrug it off and pretend I wasn’t pregnant. That was my plan when I realised something wasn’t right but than a few weeks turned into a month. I had twelve weeks to decide but once twelve weeks hit and I still hadn’t heard from you. This baby was the only connection I had to you, if you had died.” Your eyes lowered to the ground “If you had died, I didn’t have anything from you. The sex was the only thing I could remember you by, the details on your body” You explained trying not to let the thought fill too much off your mind “I kept the baby because I wanted to be reminded of you each and every day.”

Clint wasn’t sure how to react; No one had every said anything similar to that to him. No one had admitted that they wanted to be reminded of him.

“Clint Barton, I love you.” Those words slipped out of your mouth; your eyes meet his eyes waiting for a reaction. There he stood; His facial expression had softened, his didn’t look uptight or on guard, he looked calm.

“I love you,Y/N L/N” Clint had let his guard down for you; He had let you grab a hold of his heart not wanting you to ever let go.

= = =

A week had passed; Clint was going insane by staying in your apartment.

Whenever you slept; he kept his arms around your body, but he didn’t sleep, he listened out wanting to keep you safe from the dangers that he knew all to well. Whenever you cleaned; he would worry, he hated when you cleaned. Whenever you stepped out onto the balcony to enjoy the sounds of the neighbourhood while you ate your food; He would stay by your side keeping alert, fearing you standing out on the balcony made you an easy target.

The only person that knew about you was Nicky Fury, Clint’s boss; He had sent over a small gift basket filled with various baby items some which were personalised with bows and arrows. The baby clothes sited neatly on the bottom of the  basket had bow and arrows printed over them while a teddy bear sat on top of the clothes wore an outfit that was similar to Clint’s famous workwear while the teddy held a bow with a small tube of arrows slung over the soft bear’s shoulder.

In the week that the two of you had spent together; you were beginning to notice what Clint Barton was really like in a domesticated situation. He was jumpy; He was curious; He was frustrated and most of all he was lost. He worried about you while you worried about him but the both of you worried about the baby.

You taped the final box; Clint had managed to convince you that living in your small apartment wasn’t safe for you or the baby. He had convinced you to move into the cabin even though you didn’t believe it was big enough to house a growing child, but Clint had plans to make the cabin suitable for the family.

“is that everything?” you asked.

Clint lifted up the box before nodding. You grabbed the gift basket, it was the only thing that Clint allowed you to carry before opening the door for Clint. He stepped out of the apartment first before you followed behind, he walked over to the elevator and managed to press the down button. It was going to feel weird to leave the one place you had considered stable in your every changing life.

The elevator doors sprung open; the two of you stepped inside, you pressed the carpark button.

-          -  

You and Clint kissed before he got into his car “I’ll wait until I see you get into yours.” He said before starting the car; You made your way over to the security lock on the carpark gates before swiping your hotel keycard,Clint pulled the car up next to you and wind the down  the window “I love you.” He smiled.

“I love you” You repeated.

Clint was nervous leaving you alone; He didn’t want to leave your side, he knew what happened when he left people behind. His guard was up and on alert, the gates opened wide.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll ring you if I get stuck.” You said to him encouraging him to drive up to the streets. You made your way up to the ground floor before handing back your apartment keys. The hotel had been your home for little over five years; the best peace and privacy you had for five years that was until you meet Clint and he pulled you away from the bubble that you had grown accustomed to.

You said your goodbye to the doorman that you had grown used to seeing out the front of the hotel; walking over to your car. You were going to miss the sounds of the city, the sounds that lulled you to sleep each night for the past five years. You reached for the car door handle trying to see if you could see Clint, but you couldn’t see any sign of him.

Sitting down in the drivers seat before starting the car and pulling out carefully into oncoming traffic; you had gotten to the lights when you saw Clint stop his car behind yours. You looked up in the rear-view mirror and smiled, he smiled back.

Clint had your back.

The two of you kept track of each other as you manoeuvred between the traffic; you pulled to another set of lights; looking up at the rearview,Clint wasn’t behind you. Your eyes scanned the traffic, but you couldn’t see his car. You quickly glanced down at your phone in your lap before looking back up as the light turned green.

You tried to hide your panic as a car followed you; maybe they weren’t following you. After all it was a street, and everyone was driving. You noticed how the car followed every turn you made, you found an empty car space before pulling into it, watching as the car passed you by.

You pulled out of the car space before driving off towards the dirt road; there was one more set of lights to go through. Again, you stopped at the red light. One thing you’d probably wouldn’t miss would be the consistent stopping at lights.

Driving through the green light; A few metres later your tires hit the dirt road. Feeling someone hit the back of your car; you leaned forward into the steering wheel before leaning back into the carseat, another car came out of nowhere and crashed into the passenger side of the car. You squeezed your eyes shut in fear as you felt the cars bang together.

You could feel something wasn’t right; not only were two cars trying to run you off the road, but you could feel a pool of blood soaking through your skirt. Your hands fumbled with trying to find your phone that had slipped off your lap; you managed to find it before dialling Clint’s number.

It felt like an eternity before he picked up; he heard your screams as your car rolled into a ditch.

-          -    -

You slowly battered your eyes open; letting your eyes examine the room your in. You heard the beeping of a heart monitor, most likely connected to you. You could feel someone’s hands holding yours, feeling their hair against your skin. Your eyes moved down to see who it was; Clint.

He looked as if he was praying; He quickly shot up when he sensed your eyes were opened.

“I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have left you” Clint repeated. He had driven too far ahead believing that you weren’t too far behind, he had gotten to the cabin before you. The two of you looked up when a Doctor came into the room.

“Your awake” The doctor half heartedly smiled “You gave us a bit of a scare, someone must be watching over you.” The Doctor admitted “There is no major internal damage except for a few bruises that will heal on their own and a couple of cracked ribs” The Doctor mentioned before trying to say the most painful thing that you were about to hear “Unfortunately, the baby didn’t survive.”

You and Clint went numb; Tears rolled down his cheeks, water filled your eyes. You being alive was a godsend but losing the baby, the reason that brought the two of you closer was gone.

Neither of you heard words the Doctor spoke after he had told you the baby was gone. Neither of you had realised that he had left the room.

-          -   -

Clint felt like it was his fault that this happened to you, but you had to keep reassuring him that it wasn’t while you ached. He was afraid to leave your side; He was kicking himself for what had happened to you. Clint had managed to keep from tearing the hospital room apart, but he knew that he would give anything to flip the room apart, his hands held onto yours as much as it was possible. You were the reason he wasn’t going crazy; He was just using his words instead of actions to prove how guilty and pained he felt.

You had spent five months bonding with the baby while Clint only had spent a week trying to make an attempt at bonding with the baby. You were trying to figure out what was worse losing a child that you were excited for or having to watch the man you love come to terms with not only almost losing you but also losing the baby that he had only just found out about.

-          -  -

You were finally discharged from the hospital; Clint wasn’t going to risk it by going to get the car. The two of you walked together out of the hospital, his hand on your lower back as you walked side by side. Neither of you wanted to bury the baby instead agreeing that the doctor could use the developing baby for medical purposes. The baby didn’t even have a name; it was the one thing you both had yet to discuss. Clint lead you towards the car; he opened the passenger door for you, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver side.

His hand on your knee as he began to drive out of the hospital carpark; your gaze out the window.

= = =

Clint helped you out of the car before leading you towards the cabin door; he opened the door for you, you could see the mess that Clint had created months before, but you didn’t say anything at least he didn’t take it out on you. That was the main thing, right?

You pulled away from Clint as you headed towards the bedroom; curling up under the blankets.  Clint stood in the door way and looked at you; he didn’t like seeing you like this, he didn’t ever want to see you like this. There was nothing Clint could do to tell you that you would be fine; he had never lost a child before, he was used to losing people but losing a child, his own child was a whole other ball game.

Clint assumed you’d be safe in the cabin as he went out to the barn; pushing the barn door open enough for him to fit through. Your beat-up car sat in the middle of the barn. Clint began to take his frusation,anger and sadness out on the already damaged car; you could hear his screams from the bedroom as you pulled the blanket covers tighter over your head.

At least Clint had a way to express himself when things got tough; You had an unhealthy way of dealing with your trauma, sadly it was something that you had taught yourself to do at such a young age. All you did was curl up in the fetal position under the blankets.

#mywriting #29th June 2018 #marvel imagine #fanfic #imagine #Clint Barton #Clint Barton x reader #Hawkeye #Hawkeye x reader

[lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers]

Can I just take a minute to talk about Daniel Cieslak?

For those who don’t know, he’s a man who admitted to having sex with a 12 year old girl when he was 19 and was allowed to walk free with an absolute discharge by the judge.

He was allowed to do this because a) apparently the girl looked 16 or older and b) she gave the appearance of consent.

In UK law, a 12yo cannot consent and there is no defense that they appear older than their age. It is a statutory offense, i.e. the only defense would be that penetration did not take place. However, the judge has chosen to let him walk away because, essentially, she thinks a 12yo girl was asking for it.

This is disgusting.

It’s a complete miscarriage of justice. Everyone in this case seems to care more about the man involved than the girl- the police officers who spoke to her and say she looked 16 (well of course they would), the judge, the general public. It’s his life that has been ruined, apparently, not hers.

Apparently, she was not distressed by the incident. He cried when police told him her age (of course he fucking would, he’d been caught). To me, this suggests one of two things- either she’s been through so much sexual abuse, sex is normal to her... at 12 (but then why would she mention it to anyone? how would only this specific incident get to court?) or she didn’t know exactly what was going on, which makes any appearance of consent meaningless.

I put to you that Daniel Cieslak knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe he didn’t know she was 12, but he knew he was picking up a drunk, vulnerable much younger girl who he could coerce into sex. At some point in the night, maybe if he actually spoke two words to her, or maybe when he took her clothes off, he must’ve doubted her age. But he carried on regardless. He thought he would get away with it. And he has.

Apparently, the circumstances in this case are “extraordinary”. Apparently this judgement does not set a precedent. And yet it’s partly based on the word of two people who were drunk at the time, and on the word of some police officers who didn’t do their job properly and a taxi driver who saw a girl briefly, late at night, in the dark.

We need to have mandatory sentences for offenses like this, to protect us from judges indoctrinated in the patriarchy and rape culture.

We also need to expect better from young men. Should he have asked her for proof of age? No, he should have been the bigger man and taken her home safely and not taken advantage. Even if she had been 16, his behaviour would have been sleazy and poor. If we held men to the same standards of behaviour as we hold female rape victims, this never would have happened.

#daniel cieslak #rape culture #fuck the patriarchy #tw: abuse #tw: rape #tw: child abuse #tw: child molestation #all the trigger warnings basically im sorry #im sorry if this post seems in bad taste at all but it needs to be talked about