#picking up the wheelchair with the person inside = NO and I don’t care what your str stat is

[hauntedfalcon]

speaking as an able bodied person who thinks frequently about accessibility and wheelchair strategy on behalf of a wheelchair using acquaintance for whom I provide transportation, I do think that able bodied people should not opt to represent mobility aids in works of media unless they’re prepared to commit to portraying accommodations with some degree of verisimilitude. without that commitment they’re undoing whatever good they might do through representation

#just a lot of bad wheelchair hygiene lately in things I enjoy #picking up the wheelchair with the person inside = NO and I don’t care what your str stat is #the whole party is able to get down this hole. we don’t know how but it’s fine :/// #btw the answer to this is NOT to be like Emily St. John Mandel and say that #with the collapse of society the world becomes unlivable for disabled people #when institutional accommodations are gone interpersonal accommodations must pick up the slack #the sterile distance between the disabled characters of Station Eleven and everyone around them that was supposedly forming a ~community~ #was the most hopeless and depressing part of the book for me #absolute clown shoes to write a book about how important culture is after the fall of civilization #but let everyone with a Condition™️ flat out die from lack of community. do better than her #ableism mention cw

[mewtwoevolution]

The analytics room was sinking into despair…

“Nothing is showing up.”

“He’s going to crash before we figure any of this out.”

“The bosses don’t want a cadaver for study there’s already dozens from forty years ago still iced…”

Rex looked over the other humans and was going to berate them for complaining instead of doing something when the lab door opened. He groaned seeing the wheelchair bound two, “What is it now Rue?… And why is the transfer with you?”

The little blue two looked down, “My chair motor died, she’s pushing me… but I’m here because Mister Travis Orion wanted to meet with you?…”

Of course they’d use the mewtwo, the sweet thing didn’t know better. But the bastards knew they should have scheduled a proper meeting… “Fine. Go get the motor fixed and find Phineas for an extra hour out in the fields… you did good,” even if that jerk didn’t.

Rex sighed and stood up from his computer to head out, “And the rest of you keep trying!” He patted Rue on the head and gave the transfer a small nod as he passed them. Intelligent innocent animals they were…

He glared at the head of technology’s door before knocking hard on it, “I have a calendar you could have emailed you know!”

The door slide open and Rex was yanked on by his lab coat inside and he smacked their hands off it, not deterring the other department head in the least.

The much younger man had the biggest smile, “You won’t believe it! It really is working now! It can help your problem!”

“Spit it out! I can’t waste time I have a mewtwo in bad condition!” He hit a fist on the desk to emphasis his irritation.

The holographic screen on the back wall lit up and he nearly jumped out of his shirt at the thing staring back.

“Say hello to the M.I.R.A.G.E. Program! A Multi-Intelligent Reference, Artificial Genetics Entity. With a mew looking avatar for interactivity,” Travis exclaimed as he walked and paced around the room waving his arms to match his excitement, “It can run through that endless bank of DNA y’all have collected and compare new samples and scans and-“

“I don’t care I have an actual emergency that’s been going on for four weeks and time is precious Get, To, The Point!”

“Let it help!” Travis happily exclaimed, “Just give it a try and see if it picks up anything from scans or samples. What would it hurt? If it doesn’t help it’s no harm as it’ll only take a few minutes and if it does then isn’t it worth the try?” He nearly lept across the room to get into the more stoic older man’s face.

Rex stepped back and glared at Travis and looked up at the mew adjacent looking thing. They were out of their own options and could lose One any day or even minute now, “You get ten minutes and no more…”

Travis hit something on his desk and the creature in the screen looked like it floated off and he grabbed his tablet to rush for the door, “Then what are we waiting for?!” He grabbed Rex’s arm and dragged him out so he could leave the developers building to get to the genetics labs next door.

…

Travis didn’t wait for Rex as he burst into the room as soon as the door slide open and he looked to the screen in the room to see the Mirage Avatar float into view scaring a researcher.

9 looked over concerned, “What’s going on? Why is Mr. Orion here?”

“Just get a fresh scan and sample to put into the system,” Rex would debrief him after.

9 was about to protest the sample woth as weak as One was when he got Travis in his face.

“A real mewtwo! Nice to finally see one in person!” He was all smiles.

9 floated him a good five feet away from himself, “Let me work please, and I prefer HumanTwo… I am not genetically a Mew to be a two of mew. I’m still human.” He just went ahead with an extraction, choosing from the tail to be the least intrusive…

It took about three minutes to get the sample and the scan and another to plug that into the system.

The avatar on the screen glowed, a flow of information connecting to its head and then starting to flow back and forth from the head and back and a voice came from the speakers, “DNA stability comparison complete from six entires to current. Stability at 20.46% and dropping at .01 every minute. Tissue analysis complete. Showing resource strain. Diagnosis. Tumor draining biological resources…. Anatomy scan reanalysis… tumor drain location… abdominal. More data required for further accuracy.”

Rex had his mouth collecting flies as he stared at the thing floating on the screen.

Travis edged closer with the biggest shit eating grin.

Rex pushed him away by his face, “Get a new scan targeting the torso… The faster we find that tumor the better. And you get out.” He glared at Travis.

“I look forwards to updates and reports of the program’s work. I’ll be sure my team keeps up with patches and system updates don’t you worry Buddy,” he laughed and started out.

“We are not buddies!” Rex snapped and turned to glare at 9 who was staring at them, “Back to work we have a mewtwo to save! And you, program, you stay in this room, no wandering around!”

“Parameter recognized…”

He stormed out. Glad they had answers but pissed that Travis could lord this over him… the bastard didn’t grow the damn things but now he’d think he’s better than the genetics that spent their life times studying this…

The program ‘looked’ to the humans. Noting HumanTwo for its understanding of one of them. And the mewtwo in the tube. The security cameras focusing more on them. It was here to safe that creature… it awaited more data to analyze…

((Image under read more because of possible eye strain))

Everyone give a warm welcome to the Mirage Program. This can only lead to good things. :)

#the mewning flower #mewtwo #mewtwo oc #mewten crew #ask blog #one mewtwo #pokemon #mirage program

[canadian-cannibal]

May is EDS Awareness Month

EDS, or Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, is a genetic disorder that affects connective tissues and causes numerous intense physical problems all over the body. Think severe pain no matter what position you’re in, joints dislocating seemingly at random, gastrointestinal issues, fragile skin, becoming seriously injured just by stepping wrong, extreme fatigue and more. It’s a huge disorder that affects many different systems across the body, and it’s incredibly rare, making it hard to diagnose. There is no cure.

Despite the rarity of the disease, I have three close friends who have EDS.

One of them is an incredibly influential mentor to me. She teaches amazing classes and sets up huge camps each year to take care of families and needs in our community, despite the hardships that she and her family have to go through. One day in a class I was taking from her just last semester, she was not able to teach because she was having seizures and could not physically stand. She is often in at least one brace, and it’s not uncommon to see her rolling around on her knee scooter because one of her feet or ankles popped out of place or a tendon tore. Sometimes I will even see her in a wheel chair, and it’s hard to see such a vibrant woman who is usually enthusiastically jumping around and gesturing wildly (maybe not the best idea for someone with EDS, but there’s no stopping her, she’s like a force of nature) confined to a wheelchair. She has told me that when she is in a wheelchair, people don’t talk to her, they talk to the person pushing the wheelchair. It’s like she’s invisible. 

Knowing that has made me a lot more conscious and deliberate about talking to people in wheelchairs or with other disabilities.

Another friend is graduating this year and may or may not be able to walk across the stage to receive her diploma. Some days she can walk on her own, but other days she is confined to her wheelchair. She never knows which one tomorrow will be. I saw her last summer at a youth camp where the majority of the camp is spent hiking through the woods while pulling carts. She was determined to make it through the camp, but by the end of the first day, she could barely stand. The only reason she was able to continue on is because the people running the camp had a cart for especially for the handicapped with seats on it, and the other youth happily volunteered and took turns pulling her up and down hills and all around the camp. 

My third friend is one of my closest friends. She struggles daily with all the crap that entails having EDS. Some days, to me, it seems like her life is a living hell. Yet somehow she has always been there for me, even when I have acted like the idiot I am and made her tear her hair out over my antics.

I’m incredibly grateful for these friends in my life who have taught me that even if someone looks ok on the outside, on the inside they may be literally falling apart. And that’s not just physically. I know this is a post about EDS, but even if someone doesn’t have a disability, we should still treat them with kindness and respect. Everyone who surrounds us is a human being with their own struggles, and who are we to judge? Who are we to tell someone that they are wrong for hurting and crying and being vulnerable? Why can’t we make a safe space for them to fall apart in, and let them fall apart, because it’s ok to not be ok sometimes, then be there for them when they’re ready to pick up the pieces?

My EDS friends have taught me a lot, and I hope that maybe I’ll have shared even a little bit of their light. The world needs it.

So as you do whatever it is you do today, remember to treat others like they’re human beings worthy of your respect, especially those with disabilities. Because they are. Talk to someone in a wheelchair, not the person pushing them. It’ll make a big difference to them, even if it’s small to you. Make a safe space for all of the people out there who are falling apart, even if you can’t see it.

Some resources for EDS:

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/

https://themighty.com/topic/ehlers-danlos-syndrome/ehlers-danlos-syndrome-support-resources/

https://gptoolkit.ehlers-danlos.org/

#eds awareness month #eds #ehlers danlos syndrome #disability #give respect #be kind #disability awareness #treat people like theyre human beings dammit

[naerwenia]

I am not an inspiration, I am a person.

I was thinking about sending a request for a Character x Reader thingy, but as soon as I wrote down “disabled, in a wheelchair” I realised it probably would not work, especially if the writer is not disabled themself.

Having another person in your life is great, especially when you are someone with a disability or several disabilities, as they can be really helpful in making sure I don’t just fall over and die, but they also help you have a sense of identity just by being a normal person. They compliment you for looking cute, not for dressing up. They don’t take me on a walk, we go out together. They help me make myself heard, they don’t speak for me. Disability is often narrowed just to physical disabilities, but also prolonged mental illnesses are disabilities, as they impact the person’s ability to function in a society. I know I stumble on this myself, but I try my best.

I don’t think ablebodied and neurotypical writers should be barred from writing disabled characters, but I feel more often than not they miss the nuances. It often comes down to how disability is viewed: medical model or social model. Are you disabled because of the condition you have, or are you disabled because the world is not accessible? Are you left outside because you need a wheelchair, or because there is no ramp, or worse, there is a lift, but you have to get inside to ask for a employee to come and operate it?

The fact is I’m just a bystander in a way. I’m autistic but also a product of prolonged trauma, and only use cane occasionally. I don’t have to worry about physical accessibility, but I care about my fellow people and will pick up a fuss over lackluster accessibility. Poorly optimised site not supporting screen readers? I will notify you. Your event didn’t think about disabled people? Let me give you few suggestions for the next event. Is this ramp too steep? I don’t know, but I know someone who will tell you. However, as you can see, I’m much more knowledgeable of how to design physical accessibility, but don’t always know what it might look like to autistic people. Part of it is that I was diagnosed later in life, part of it is trauma and my inability to ask for anything for myself.

I may be a mess, but I’m also a disabled person. Don’t look at me with pity, either make sure you are a good friend and respect me as a person, not as a token of your tolerance and good will, or be quiet. If you have the time and energy to advocate for disability rights, then I would appreciate that, but first, try to read some works written by disabled writers, thoughts and regular life stories of disabled people, of regular disabled people. Maybe read the basics of disability studies if you feel like it, maybe just so you can quote Tom Shakespeare and confuse people.

I’m sorry if I come across as harsh, that is not my intention, but I encourage you to question your views on disability once in a while, and don’t interrogate people about their disability, don’t ask them to prove it. Disability is not a monolith and neither are the disabled. Generally, don’t use person first language (person with autism, etc), unless someone prefers it.

TLDR: I don’t expect perfection, and I love seeing more disabled reader fics, as I’m a sucker for self-indulgent fantasy where the Character just accepts everything that comes in the package. Just be aware that it doesn’t come across as pity, but also don’t discount the experiences that come with the disability, don’t overlook it. Indulge us!

#fanfiction writing #writing disability #disabled reader

[1-800-imagines]

our little secret part 6 | nate jacobs

series masterlist

you were released from the hospital the next morning. the doctor had wanted to keep you overnight just to make sure your concussion was only a concussion and to give you an IV of antibiotics because no one would tell him exactly HOW you got hurt.

it was probably a good idea since you had literally been cut at a dealers house. it was your own knife but still.

the funny thing was, nate’s truck was still at the party house, so, he was going to have to ride back with you all which was not going to be the best car ride of your life.

the nurse was wheeling you out in a wheelchair despite your protests. she patted your shoulder and looked at all three of your boys, “take care of her,” she eyed them.

“yes ma’am.” fez said, opening the back seat. you had elected to sit in the back with nate so ash didn’t try to secretly stab him.

“thank you for everything,” you whispered as she helped you up.

nate hooked his arm under your shoulder and got you into the car. you scoffed at nate basically treating you like a broken doll, “i’m not fucking broken,” you muttered.

“take it easy sweetheart,” the nurse smiled with a wink and walked back inside with the wheelchair.

fez kept a close eye on nate helping you in and then getting in the backseat next to you. fez got in the drivers seat and ash beside him. “so how’d you two become friends?” he raised his eyebrow and looked in the back mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“english class sophomore year.” you answered. it wasn’t a lie. that’s when you had met. just not become friends. you and nate HATED each other upon meeting. instant enemies. you always flinging insults at him and him returning them.

the teacher could see it and she couldn’t put up with it any longer, that was why she had the class read romeo and juliet. out loud. with you as juliet. and nate as romeo.

she said that a major grade would be acting out one of the scenes and she SPECIFICALLY gave you both the balcony scene. everyone else had a group of four. but not you too. it was only you and everyone was forced to work outside of school on it.

(another separate part on how they met is coming)

fez took the answer and continued on. then ashtray spoke up, “so how’d you find her so fast? and why the fuck were you laying in a bathtub?” ash wasn’t mad at you, more so concerned. he was your protector, younger than you, but would literally do anything for you.

ash was staring nate down in the rear view mirror.

“ok we can’t answer at the same time ash,” you spoke calmly. you nodded to nate so he could go first. you slid your hand next to his so the tips of your pinkies were touching on the seat.

“tyler, the guy maddy was with in the bathroom, came running out yelling for you and i asked why. when he said it was love, i ran in because we know each other and clearly maddy wasn’t doing shit.” nate said coldly.

you body clenched when he mentioned maddy, he noticed this but did not look over. he just moved his leg to it brushed up against yours, a simple touch to reassure you.

you realized it was your turn so you started, “i went to the bathroom to look at my stitches, when i took the gauze off, they busted open. i got woozy and sat on the edge of the tub. i was too dizzy to stand so i just laid down and i don’t know what else happened.” you shrugged.

it was a boldface lie, but it didn’t involve anyone else so who would be able to pick it apart?

no one would. except the person you hated the most.

maddy fucking perez would. she had seen nate walk out of the bathroom. she just hadn’t put two and two together. if she did, you were royally fucked.

little did you know, she was blowing up nate’s phone, which was dead in his pocket.

ash just shook his head, “yeah okay.” he didn’t want to push you but he was damn sure gonna keep his eye on nate, especially now that you were tied to him.

“do either of you have my phone?” you asked, realizing you had literally none of your possessions and were in scrubs since your clothes had been drenched in blood.

ash and fez both groaned and nate smiled softly, “it was in the bathtub next to you so i grabbed it.” he murmured, “i got it out of your pocket before they threw it away at the hospital.” he said as the answer that ash and fez could hear.

you smiled, “thank you, b-, bud.” you looked down quickly at your phone. you had almost called him baby. in the car. with both your brothers present.

you clicked your phone on and had numerous notifications, the light hurt your head, “hey dummy you’re concussed. stop looking at it.” fez said from the drivers seat.

you huffed and closed it. nate almost laughed, but had to stop himself. he hated to admit it to himself, but he was liking spending time with your brothers and you, it made him almost nostalgic.

you finally pulled up to the party house and nate looked at you, “i’ll see you in class then. feel better.” as he was getting out, while ash and fez were distracted, he squeezed your thigh which made you sigh. you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to come home with you and curl up in your bed. it wasn’t fair.

“bye, see you in english, nate.” you looked down at your phone and turned the brightness all the way down, ignoring everyone’s messages. you went straight to your texts with nate and said, ‘i love you. come pick me up tonight. please.’

when nate got in his truck and watched you pull away, it felt like he had been punched in the gut. he wanted to do nothing more than take care of you and find out who had hurt you.

he plugged his dead phone in and started his drive home. when it turned on, the missed notifications began to roll in.

15 missed calls from maddy perez.

20 texts from maddy perez.

1 text from lovie.

he opened the one from you first, not caring about whatever the fuck maddy wanted. he smiled and texted back, ‘of course, tell me when. i love you more.’

then went to the messages with maddy. they consisted of:

did you hurt her?

what the fuck did you do nate?

why aren’t you answering me?

what are you doing to her?

i’m going to ruin your fucking life.

this was going to be a problem.

#nate jacobs imagine #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x lovie #nate jacobs x fezco!sister #nate jacobs fanfic #nate jacobs fanfiction #euphoria #euphoria imagine #euphoria imagines #euphoria nate #fezco

[cjsinkythoughts]

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day. 

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.” 

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. 

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

~

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

~

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #cjsspoilers #fatws spoilers #tfatws spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #fatws #tfatws #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky barnes #fatws series #fatws pt 4 #❤🐦💙🦾 #💙🦾

[soulmate-game]

part 2 (of that new bio!dad fic)

Dick whipped his head over to Bruce, who could feel the heavy gazes of all his children as if they were physical. If they had had heat vision like Clark, he would have already been reduced to a puddle of mush. Bruce shifted, the only sign of his discomfort, but he recognized that the middle of a gala was no place for this discussion. There were too many busybodies trying to listen in for the latest gossip. So he plastered on a smile that he couldn’t quite feel, and held a hand out to Marinette. He was careful to keep a good distance though, and left the choice for contant purely up to her.

The young woman looked down at his hand, then back to his face. Damian had been shocked silent by what she had to say, and perhaps even more by the all too telling way that Bruce hadn’t so much as implied that she was lying, and the look he was giving her was making her a little uncomfortable. Yes, she hadn’t planned on interacting with her father more than just the years-overdue confrontation she had just done, at least not while at the gala… but her plans always left room for improvisation. She could make this work.

With a soft sigh, Marinette extended her own hand— half the size of Bruce’s, he noted almost immediately with a rush of illogical fondness— and grasped his lightly. She couldn’t help but notice the way his impossibly blue eyes brightened, no different than her own when she was particularly happy, or the way his mouth twitched with a barely suppressed beam. Instead, he controlled himself enough so that the only smile he gave would look professional and entirely in character to the nosy socialites still spying on them, and led them out onto the dance floor.

What everyone else saw was the unfairly charming Bruce Wayne giving his young guest of honor a simple dance. Just a basic swirl around the floor that every other social elite had learned when they were five. Clearly he was taking it easy on the self-made girl, who probably didn’t have experience with such dances. Humoring the accomplished young woman with his approval for a moment before he would slink back to his family or patrol the crowds and make the necessary greetings and meaningless chatter.

What his family saw was Bruce taking time to slow his steps, not for Marinette to keep up but rather to prolong the event. What they saw was the grace in Marinette’s steps as she never once faltered, and that Bruce was careful to take his cues from her instead of the other way around. He only led the dance in technicality, Marinette had all the real control.

What they saw was a father’s first dance with his daughter.

“Eighteen,” Dick whispered, eyebrows drawn low. “She said she’s almost eighteen.”

“Well, that lines up doesn’t it?” Jason asked gruffly, his own gaze never leaving the dancing duo. “We were planning on doubling up your big thirtieth birthday party as your eighteenth adoption anniversary,” he reminded his brother, who just made a slightly distressed noise in the back of his throat. Whether it was at the reinforcement of his adoption coming only months after Marinette being put up for adoption, or the fact that he was turning thirty, nobody could really tell.

“Hurt,” Cassandra spoke up from behind them, looking incredibly concerned as she watched the dance. “Uncertain.”

Stephany rolled her eyes, fidgeting from her quickly building energy. Anger was making her restless. “Of course she’s hurt. Bruce replaced her, with a boy he knew virtually nothing about, not even that long after she was born. How do you think that made her feel, when she found out?” Stephany let out a little growl, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server and downing it in one gulp. She ignored Dick protesting that she wasn’t of age yet, which made her wrinkle her nose. “Only one more year, Dickhead. Get over it, I need the buzz.”

“Well,” Barbara sighed and maneuvered her wheelchair around the group so that everyone could see her. “Nothing we can do right now but be supportive and watch Bruce like a hawk so he doesn’t make this worse,” she stated easily, not looking even the least bit ruffled by the news despite the disturbed glitter in her eyes.

“... Guys,” Tim spoke up, not looking at any of them. “Who wants to volunteer for Damian duty?” At first glance, it might seem like Tim was thinking about his own first disastrous meeting with the younger boy. Once everyone paid attention though, they could see that the truth was that Damian had snuck away and Tim was pointedly looking at a slightly hidden-away staircase to the second floor.

“Shit,” Dick muttered, but before he could say another word Jason shoved him back and started towards the stairs.

“No, not this time Dicky. I’ll talk to the brat.”

Back on the dancefloor, Bruce and Marinette broke away without any fanfare at the end of the song. If Bruce tried to hold her eyes for a moment too long, nobody noticed besides his observant children, and two of Marinette’s protective friends.

Then, just to make sure that nobody caught on with the help of hindsight, Bruce said something vaguely polite and praising, which Marinette accepted with flawless, distant poise. And they went back to their own groups, Bruce quickly noting that two of his sons were missing. He raised an eyebrow, about to ask why when a presence behind him caught his attention. Unlike Marinette and Chloe, this newcomer was not at all trying to hide their approach or be sneaky about it, even though Bruce couldn’t hear any footsteps that were close enough to belong to the mysterious entity. Closing his mouth, Bruce turned around only to be greeted by yet another vaguely familiar face. Bright green eyes bore into his, unreadable.

“Mister Wayne,” the newcomer greeted, voice warm but stiff. If the Waynes hadn’t all had years of recognizing when a person was only pretending to be cordial, they never would have suspected that the boy was anything but pure-heartedly happy to be there. But they did have that experience, and thus they instantly honed in on the very well-hidden fact that he had a bone to pick with them. Or, more probably, with Bruce.

He cut an impressive figure, for all that he was lithe muscle instead of bulk. Hair that was lighter than Chloe’s, less like cloth-of-gold and more like sunlight glinting off of wheatfields. It somehow hung in gravity-defying tufts, yet perfectly arranged to evoke a calming aesthetic. Like the fluff of a long-haired cat, almost, and it looked just as fluffy and hypnotizing. It contrasted with his emerald eyes, impossibly vibrant in their gleam. And the suit he wore was decidedly top-notch, much like the other two they had met from his class. He was daring, in a dark silver suit that slightly shifted in the light, green accents that matched his eyes standing out strikingly against the collars and trim, and coiling in tantalizing swirls at the cuffs. The lining of the suit jacket was done in a dark green that could almost pass for black in the right lighting, adding a layer of both drama and mystery as it peeked out at the back of his collar, the insides of his sleeves if he moved just the right way, at the bottom hem of the jacket when he turned or bent just so. And with his notoriety in the modeling world? He always knew exactly how to move or place himself to get the reactions he wanted. And he was clearly showing off the craftsmanship of his suit just then as he faked adjusting his cufflinks and lifted his head just the right amount to both look challenging and let the dark green on the back of his collar flash in the light in such a way that Bruce and those nearest him wouldn’t be able to miss the brief reveal of color.

“Adrien Agreste,” Bruce greeted back, eyebrows pulling down in slight confusion. Normally the topic of clothing was far from his genuine interest, but in this particular case it was an intriguing, and possibly even concerning, observation. So he said next; “That suit is not of your father’s usual style of design.”

Adrien scoffed, straightening out his suit’s jacket and making the obsidian buttons glint. “Of course not. I’ve started my rebellious phase— or, well, I finally started being blatant enough about it that my father noticed anyway,” the way his lips curled was decidedly not very attractive, but painted a vivid picture of a son who despised the way he was treated. Adrien quickly wiped the distasteful expression away and replaced it with a camera-ready smile. “I’m wearing one of Marinette’s designs, much to his chagrin. She insisted on making this for me as soon as she heard that my father was planning on sending me in a white suit.”

Bruce quickly caught on, and sighed. How long would the gala go on for, again? He didn’t remember what time it was anymore. “Your friend Chloe already got a pretty clear warning in. I suppose you know as well?”

Adrien’s grin darkened with mischief, and he nodded all too happily. “Of course! Marinette told me almost as soon as she found out, a few years ago. You see, we had to put down a very solid rule about secrets between the two of us. She has a bad habit of trying to shoulder the entire world’s problems and not tell anyone about it, if you don’t pay close enough attention,” his voice was deceptively light but his eyes were hard, warning. “And let’s just say, I have a lot of experience with bad father figures. I can recognize them a mile away by now. The signs of neglect, of apathy,” his eyes suddenly lightened when he saw how Bruce’s throat visibly caught, how the man didn’t seem to realize he had stopped breathing. Maybe he was being a little to mean, Adrien thought. So he let the dark slip out of his eyes, and his smile turned more genuine. “You don’t have those signs. You looked at Marinette like you were both the happiest and most miserable man in the world at the same time. But you can’t change what you did to her, Mister Wayne. If you want some advice from Marinette’s oldest friend?” Adrien held out a closed fist.

Bruce took a second to realize what was happening, too busy trying to recover from his situational whiplash and wave of relief. Once he caught back up to the present, however, he held out his open palm and let Adrien drop something into his hand.

To his shock, it was a pen, engraved with the name he recognized as Marinette’s biological mother. He also recognized it as a popular model of pen-knife. He raised his eyes to Adrien, who winked.

“Marinette doesn’t know I had this made. And she has a lot of tricks that might surprise you, but what she wants more than anything is stability. If you try to give her that, show that you care and you want her safe— and then prove that you’re gonna stay— then maybe you can repair the damage you’ve done. It won’t be easy though, Mari is the single most stubborn person I’ve ever met. And I grew up with Chloe.”

Bruce closed his hand around the pen, swallowing a lump in his throat. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but Adrien’s faith in him and his help… somehow felt significant. He nodded to the young model.

“Not to worry, I have experience with stubborn,” he glanced back at his other kids with a small smirk. None of them were the least bit repentant. “And I do want to stay. Thank you for the advice.”

Adrien shrugged. “Don’t thank me. If you hurt her again, you’ll never see my revenge coming. It can be rather… catastrophic,” with that ominous threat, Adrien bowed dramatically and turned to leave and do some rounds charming the elites. Bruce tucked the pen in one of his hidden pockets, but stayed silent after that. He had a lot to mull over.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out over the gardens behind the gala’s venue. He was glaring at nothing, and his hands trembled from where they gripped the rail. It was five minutes, a little longer than he had expected but not that odd considering everyone’s distraction over Marinette, before he heard the glass doors behind him creak open.

“Yo,” Jason greeted, knowing it was better not to catch the boy off guard. None of them were good with surprises anymore, for good reason. It was always best to announce their presence before they made someone react violently on accident. Damian’s shoulders relaxed a little— not a lot, but enough for Jason to notice. The older man sighed, walking up and leaning on the rail next to his little brother. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“That could have been me,” he almost instantly blurted. It was still hard talking about his feelings, but certain things were easier with Todd. This was, apparently, one of them. “If Mother hadn’t kept me a secret.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason disagreed, shrugging. “There are several big differences here. For one, Marinette was born three years before you were. By the time you were born, he already had Dick and he would have only been a year, max, away from taking me in. Which means he already had built up his problem with taking in kids, and nothing would have gotten him to give up a chance at raising you. With or without Batman getting in the way.”

“But then why—” Damian growled. “Why did he give her up?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Jason remarked bluntly. “You know how he is. He didn’t have a kid at the time. Hell, Bruce would have only been twenty-two back then. He only adopted Dick on impulse because Dick reminded him of himself, but before all of that shit? He probably made a million excuses about not being able to raise a baby and be Batman at the same time. About his life being too dangerous for a kid. Which, yes it is, but that clearly didn’t stop him later.”

“She’s older,” Damian muttered, this time softer.

“Yup.”

“Her mother wasn’t an assassin, probably. She designs. I hate to admit it, and you are never to repeat it to anybody, but her work that we’ve seen so far is impressive. She can clearly charm even the most stuck-up of gotham’s upper crust.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed neutrally, his eyes never leaving Damian.

“Father won’t need me. He already doesn’t have much patience—” Damian was cut off by a flick to the nose. “Hey!”

“Not my fault you’re being stupid,” Jason defended himself. “Look, B’s actually been real patient with you these past few years. I mean, when was the last time he yelled at you? Or told you that stupid ‘justice not vengeance’ line?”

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it. After another moment, he replied; “Almost two years.”

Jason nodded. “It might take him way too long, but he can still learn new tricks. Especially after that mess with Heretic, he’s been trying really hard to be better to you. He still screws up, because I think we all know by now that he’s a bigger mess than any of the rest of us and that’s an accomplishment, but he’s trying. He doesn’t keep you around because he needs you. He’s got plenty of us around if all he wanted was soldiers— though none of us would stick around if we thought that’s all he wanted.”

Damian flexed his jaw. He was still the most violent of the kids, besides Jason. He saw Bruce rubbing his forehead or pinching his nose far too often at some of his decisions or comments. He was stubborn, impatient, reckless.

But hadn’t Bruce himself told him on several occasions that he wasn’t trying to make him a perfect soldier? Hadn’t Bruce himself said that he just wanted Damian to grow into himself?

It was just really hard to swat away those stupid voices in Damian’s head. Voices of the past, mostly, old dialogue he had never actually forgotten. That he merely pretended had never affected him. The “you’re too violent”s, the “that’s not how we behave, Damian”s. All the old lectures, the old fights. They echoed like stupid little gremlins of doubt.

“...Marinette has his eyes.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like that,” Jason’s voice was soft, but gruff at the same time as he cuffed Damian over the head. “You didn’t choose to be born, idiot. And despite being a little demon, none of us would reverse it, You’ve saved all our skins at least once. And besides,” he nudged Damian a little with a grin. “You’re not half bad, nowadays.”

Damian chuckled. “That makes one of us.”

“Hey!”

@peterxwade24 @mizzy-pop @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @khneltea @itsmeevie01 @fusser90 @woe-is-me0 @lolieg @moonlightstar64 @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #platonic brucinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat fic

[wolferine]

Unforgivable - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When the reader loses their temper, it causes them to commit an act they can never take back...

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture, death

Word count: 2372

Part 1

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @lilclownx @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife

AN: Please read to the end before you come after me. :)

Everything is a blur. The last thing you remember is cradling Natasha in your lap and seeing the pain of betrayal in her eyes. You did this to her. You couldn’t control your anger and now she had a bullet—shot out of your gun—in her back. You hurt her and there was no way you could ever forgive yourself for that. 

You finally let Tony get close enough to take care of her, because you realized you don’t deserve her anymore. 

You run away from the Avengers Tower, your leg slowing you down, but you don’t care. Each step feels like a knife rubbing against your bone, but even that’s not enough to distract you from the pain in your chest. It feels like someone has torn you open, ripped your heart out of your ribcage, and thrown it into a bonfire.

But you have no one to blame than yourself.

Tears stream down your face as you stumble through the streets, eventually finding some privacy in a nearby forest. Your sobs echo through the trees as you crawl hand over hand, your uniform shredding open on bushes and branches. The trickle of a creek calls to you and you dunk your bloody hands in the freezing water, desperate to wash yourself of your failures.

You can’t believe what you’ve done.

The scene of Natasha falling to the floor plays over and over in your head and you would pay anything to unsee it. You curl into a ball, wiping your nose on your knees. You deserve all the pain and misery for your actions. You’re so caught up in your head, thinking about all the ways you can punish yourself, that you don’t notice the group of men sneaking up on you from behind.

“Over there! Over there!” 

“By the creek, see?”

“Wait—that’s an Avenger?”

“Looks like someone had a bad day.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you finally lift your head, only for the butt of a shotgun to slam into your face. Your nose breaks and blood fills your mouth. You turn away, not even interested in protecting yourself. If they killed you, you would thank them.

“Aw, come on. At least give us a reaction,” someone says.

The shotgun butt smashes against the back of your head and you wouldn’t be surprised if it cracked your skull. Someone kicks your leg where you were shot, and you bite your lip to hold back a scream.

“Well, this is anti-climactic.”

“Hey, if it makes our job easier, I’m not gonna complain.”

“I still think Hammer’s weird for wanting Y/N over the other Avengers.”

“Given the circumstances, he couldn’t really be picky—”

“Stop standing around and get to it!” someone yells. 

The men surround you, punching and kicking every inch of you. The bulletproof vest of your uniform does little to lessen the impact of their blows. You feel bruises forming along your ribs and your rattling teeth bite your lips bloody. It doesn’t take long for you to black out and the peace is blissful.

***********************************************************************

Sometime later—you have no idea how long—you jolt awake, finding yourself strapped to a metal chair in the middle of a dark, concrete room. A man in glasses and a gray suit with white gloves stands in front of you. 

“Hello, I’m Justin Hammer,” he says, offering a hand, then withdrawing when he realizes your arms are tied to the chair. “Sorry, force of habit.”

You stare at him. Your tongue pokes around the inside of your mouth and you notice some teeth are missing. There is a painful crick in your neck every time you try moving your head and every breath you take feels like a razor blade scraping the inside of your lungs.

“You’ve probably never heard of me, but I’m very familiar with you and your work with the Avengers. But the reason I have you here today is to talk about this man.” Hammer pulls out a folded photograph from his pocket and shows it to you.

It’s Tony Stark, but you have no desire to even think of that man anymore.

“Your best friend, right?” Hammer teases and you curl your lip at him. “What’s wrong? He’s the one who got you a spot on the team, isn’t he?” You look away from him. “I heard what he did to your girl,” he continues. “That must’ve felt like the betrayal of the century.”

“What?” you ask, confused as to what he’s referring to.

“I heard about what happened at the Avengers Tower. So tragic.” Hammer crumples Tony’s photograph and drops it on the floor. “Romanoff didn’t deserve that.”

“W-What are you talking about? Is she okay?” Your bottom lip quivers in fear.

Hammer kneels in front of you. “She’s dead, Y/N.”

“No, no…” You feel like he’s punched you right through the chest. “T-That’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.” Hammer stands again.

“How do you even know what happened at the Tower?” Given its security, there was no way news like that reached the public. At least not the truth of it. Maybe Hammer was just trying to mess with you.

Hammer motions behind him and a blonde woman steps forward from the shadows. Her face jolts your memory, but you don’t remember exactly where from.

“Recognize her?” Hammer asks. “She actually works for me, but she’s been pretending to be a SHIELD agent for some time now. She was right outside the door when your little spat with Stark went down.” Your mind flashes back to when you returned from the mission with Natasha. On your way to the private Avengers’ quarters, you remember passing the same blonde woman right outside the door.

“She heard everything that happened inside,” Hammer says as the blonde woman retreats into the darkness again.

“N-Natasha’s…She’s…She’s not dead,” you stammer.

Hammer shakes his head. “She went into surgery after Stark shot her, but due to the placement of the bullet, there were some complications and she coded on the table. They couldn’t revive her. That part was all over the news.”

You feel so sick you want to vomit. “I…I killed her?”

“No. You didn’t kill her. Tony Stark killed her.”

You start gasping for air, only worsening the pain in your chest. “No—But—He—I’m the one who pulled the trigger—”

“But you weren’t aiming for her. You were aiming for Stark, and he’s the one who deflected the bullet into her,” Hammer says. “He’s also the one who sent you two on that mission to begin with, wasn’t he? The reason you lost your cool and pulled your gun out? Think, Y/N. All of this is Stark’s fault.”

But the sadness of thinking you’ve killed Natasha is too overwhelming. You can’t focus on anything but your own guilt. You will burn in hell for this and you won’t even mind.

“Listen to me, Y/N!” Hammer snaps, striking you across the face. His rings cut into your cheek and blood fills your mouth. “I hate Stark just as much as you do. He’s been my business rival for years and I need someone to help me take him down. Who better than you, a former friend of his, who knows how to hit him where it hurts?”

You start crying at the thought of having to exist in a world without Natasha Romanoff.

Hammer tries getting your attention by slapping you again, but you’re unresponsive. You’re too lost in your grief to process anything he’s saying, and eventually he gives up, promising to come back another time to reveal his master plan to you.

It takes an entire month before he can even communicate with you. Your depression is all-consuming and their threats on your life have no effect. They’re startled to learn you actually enjoy the torture because you believe you deserve it after what you did to Natasha. But Hammer is relentless and finally figures out how to manipulate you into his bidding.

Six months after your capture and the accident, you finally crack. Your agony and pain turns into pure rage and hatred for Tony Stark. You can’t bring Natasha back, but you can get revenge on the man who took her life. After training with Hammer’s technology, which is almost as advanced as Tony’s, you’re deemed ready to be let out in the real world. Hammer personally asks for your help to kill Tony Stark, and it’s an offer you accept gladly.

***********************************************************************

Three months after the accident…

Natasha wakes up and looks to her right, disappointed to see the bed still empty. She’s tricked herself into believing that one day you’ll show up, ready to pick up the pieces and continue where you left off. But nothing has been the same since you left.

She sits up and turns the lights on. She scoots to the edge of the bed and carefully lifts her body into the wheelchair parked there.

The bullet had struck her lumbar spine, shattering her L1 vertebrae and paralyzing her from the waist down. Tony requested help from the best doctors he knew, but even the greatest modern advancements couldn’t repair her spine. He had personally designed her wheelchair, and she knows she should be grateful to still be alive, but she’s never felt so helpless and alone. 

After the accident, you ran off and no one could locate you. Secretly, she held onto the hope you would return one day, but she knows your guilt and shame are keeping you away. She wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she doesn’t hate you, but you’re not even giving her that chance.

Tony made the public announcement that Black Widow had retired from the Avengers. No one knew she had been paralyzed, nor that you had unofficially resigned from the team. Without you, without Black Widow, Natasha didn’t know who she was anymore.

She leaves her bedroom and goes into the kitchen. Tony arranged most of the food and dishes down to her new height but she feels like she’ll never adjust to not being able to stand anymore. She locates a bowl and a box of cereal and rolls over to the table. She chokes down dry Cheerios and pours her second bowlful when Tony walks in.

“Thank God you’re finally up,” he says. “When you’re done, I have something to show you.”

“Y/N?” She perks up.

“Uh…no…”

Natasha knows Tony blames himself just as much as she does for her accident, but it wasn’t his fault either. She wrestled between anger and guilt, sometimes blaming you, sometimes blaming him. But in the end, it’s easier to blame herself. She should have stopped you the moment you took out your gun, regardless of whether or not you pushed her. But she got so caught up in the moment she froze, and now she was paralyzed and you were gone.

“Just come down to my workshop, okay?” Tony disappears again.

With nothing better to do, Natasha takes the elevator down to Tony’s workshop. She doesn’t visit often, but when she does, she’s always impressed by his latest inventions and gadgets. She rolls down the aisle of old Iron Man suits displayed in glass cases, admiring the subtle differences in each one.

“Where are you, Tony?” she calls.

“Over here!” He waves her down from the other end. “I’ve been working on this for a while, and I know it’s a little premature, but I couldn’t help myself.” Tony stands next to another Iron Man suit, but it doesn’t quite look like it will fit him.

The suit is curved to fit a woman, black and red instead of Tony’s iconic red and gold. Natasha sees a red hourglass emblazoned on the belt buckle.

“What…What is this, Tony?” she asks, tears in her eyes.

“It’s an Iron Widow suit,” he says. “Or, whatever you want to call it. You’ll have to get in and test it out for yourself, but it’ll allow you to walk again and…be an Avenger again.”

Natasha wishes she could throw herself into his arms, but pulls him down to her level instead. “Thank you,” she whispers, wiping her face. She never thought she would be able to serve as an Avenger again, but she’ll take the opportunity if it means taking her mind off recent events.

“Ready to try it out?” Tony presses a button on the side of the suit and the suit opens up, bending into a crouched position so Natasha can get in it like a chair.

 She smiles for the first time since the accident.

 “I am.”

***********************************************************************

Six months after the accident…

Natasha is in the gym, lifting dumbbells on a bench when Tony walks in. Although she now has a legitimate excuse for skipping leg day for the rest of her life, she now has to make sure her upper body is twice as strong to make up for it.

“Look who decided to slide through my DMs this morning,” Tony says, shoving his phone in her face.

Midnight. Central Park Carousel. Come alone.

The text was from you.

“Oh, my God,” Natasha says, setting the weights down. You haven’t even texted her since the accident, and she’s a little hurt you didn’t reach out to her first. “What’s this about?”

“I have no idea.” Tony shrugs. “I know it says for me to go alone, but since it’s from Y/N, I wanted to ask if you wanted to tag along.”

“Of course.” In a way, Natasha feels like the text is really meant for her. Central Park was where you had asked her to be your girlfriend. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I’ll need you to be on your A-game. We have no idea what Y/N’s been up to these past six months. I don’t know if you’re gonna like what we find,” Tony says.

Natasha has spent countless nights wondering where you’ve been and what you’re doing. Now she has the chance to find out. “It’s going to be okay, Tony,” she says.

He shakes his head. “Just so you know, I’m praying more for you than me right now.”

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: I never went to medical school, so forgive my medical inaccuracies.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow #black widow fanfiction #marvel imagine #natasha x reader

[deanstead]

I Am The Apocalypse

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Reader; Kelly Severide x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Mentions of injury, Mentions of blood

Summary: Mini Episode rewrite of Chicago Fire S03x19 where reader was in Med when the blast went off.

A/N: First Chicago/Jay fic so I hope it’s okay~ Just something that popped in my head while I was rewatching so I just penned it down. Wrote it mainly from reader’s POV so only picked off parts where I felt would fit!

---

(Y/N POV)

I sipped my coffee at the table, dressed in Jay’s hoodie, which was my personal favourite, watching him pour his coffee.

“I can feel you staring.” He chuckled, as another lady stuck her head into the kitchen.

“Hey… Hi. Morning…” Jay glanced at her awkwardly.

“Melanie.” She responded, stepping into the kitchen.

“Jay. Will’s brother.” He responded, handing her the coffee cup.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She responded with a smile, as I watched the exchange with amusement. She seemed to just realise my presence and gave a polite nod before shuffling out of the kitchen to meet Will in the living room.

I raised my eyebrows at Jay who laughed and poured another cup of coffee for himself.

“When do you have to be at work?” Jay asked his brother, a cheeky smile lingering on his face, as Will entered the kitchen.

Will looked at his watch, “About five minutes ago?”

Jay exchanged a look with me. “It’s your first day.” He commented to his brother, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Uh, first and last, as it turns out.” Will replied, not looking up from the refrigerator.

Jay froze. “You’re… joking?”

Will shook his head. “No.”

I checked my phone, vaguely registering the conversation Jay was having with his brother about him returning to New York. 

“Just give it a couple of weeks.” Jay paused before adding, “At least.”

Will turned to face Jay and shrugged. “I got to go.” Will turned to leave, adding, “Bye Y/N.”

I waved, gulping down the last of my coffee as Jay turned back to me with a sigh. I smiled and he took the empty mug from my hands, running it under water in the sink.

As I made to get up, my head gave a dull throb. Again. This stupid migraine hadn’t let up for at least a week. I closed my eyes and frowned, waiting for it to pass, pausing in my movement to get up from the table.

“Y/N?” I could feel Jay hovering over me now.

I cracked my eyes open, looking up at him. “I’m fine. It’s just that stupid migraine.”

Jay’s expression softened. “Maybe you should get that looked at.” He suggested, gently stroking my hair.

I nodded, “Yeah, maybe I’ll go to Med later.”

“I gotta go. Text me, okay?” Jay said, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

I smiled. “Be safe!” I called after him as he turned to give me a wink.

---

I had decided to make Med my first stop of the day after all and I was already sitting in a chair in the waiting room after registration. I had barely been there for 5 minutes when the waiting room became crowded with familiar faces of incoming firefighters from Firehouse 51, supporting incoming patients.

I nodded greetings to those who noticed me as they helped people in. I had been at 51 with Kelly as well as Molly’s with Jay enough times to be on familiar terms with most of them. I settled in for what I was sure was going to be a long wait, only looking up when I heard Kelly’s voice calling out, “Kendra!” as he helped the man he was supporting into a wheelchair.

Kelly glanced around and spotted me. “Y/N? You okay? What are you doing here?” He took a step closer to me.

I smiled at him. “I’m fine, just a persistent migraine, thought I’d better check it out. What’s up?” I asked, motioning to the room flooding with other firefighters.

Before Kelly could respond, a nurse stepped forward. “Everyone, may I have your attention please?” Her call was in vain to the bustle of the now full waiting room. Kelly glanced at her before calling at the top of his voice. “Listen up!”

The emergency room fell to silence almost immediately. She smiled gratefully at Kelly before turning to address everyone else. “All right, we are going to have a very full day here and I understand none of you feel well. But we’re going to need help from you as well as patience. If you’re here because of the ammonia leak…”

My attention trailed off as I noticed a patient get up and make his way nearer to her. My gut gave an uneasy churn as I watched him and I glanced over at Kelly but he wasn’t paying attention to me any longer.

The man dragged a chair towards him, stepping onto it. The nurse had now noticed him. “Sir, not yet, please. I need everyone…”

He swayed a little before he looked at everyone. “If you thought Ebola was a nightmare, I am the apocalypse!”

My eyes caught the grenade in his hand. “Kelly!” I shouted, as the man pulled out the pin.

“Death to all Americans. You’re all dead in two weeks!”

Kelly spun around as I saw Casey exit the treatment room that he had been in.

“Allahu akbar!” he screamed.

I watched in horror as Kelly sprinted towards him, pushing the nurse out of the way and flinging the man onto the ground, the sounds of the explosion drowning out my voice screaming my friend’s name.

----

The aftermath of the explosion was nothing but chaos. I heard firefighters running around, trying to contain the panic, as well as the people who were trying to run out of the emergency room.

“Hey, you okay?” I looked up.

“Y/N?” Will asked again when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, I think so.” His eyes raked over me. “Let me take a look.” I let Will do what he needed to do and answered questions that he asked me. Satisfied that I wasn’t seriously hurt, he squeezed my shoulder. “Stay here,” he instructed before heading over to another badly injured patient.

I could hear several instructions being called out but only one caught my attention.

“Hey, hey over here! It’s Severide!”

My head snapped up and I clambered to my feet. As everyone came around him, calling his name. Sylvie grabbed his wrist, “It’s a weak pulse.”

Will quickly rushed over. “Let me see.”

Feeling his pulse at his neck, Will looked up. “No. Black tag him. He’s gone.”

I felt my heart drop into my gut. Even I knew what that meant.

Peter spun around to look at Will. “What?”

Will met Peter’s gaze. “The percentages are very low that he’ll…”

A look of rage passed Peter’s face. “I don’t give a damn about percentages.”

Will faltered and I reached out to touch his shoulder, my voice shaking a little. “Will… please…”

Will glanced at me before looking back at Peter. “No problem. Grab a gurney.” I watched as they busied putting Kelly onto a gurney, my heart giving another uncomfortable squeeze as I heard Casey report back to their fire chief outside.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there in a daze, long after they had wheeled Kelly away. “Hey,” I felt a hand on my arm. I turned to face the nurse who had been trying to control the crowd before the explosion. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, before shrugging. “You’re April, right?” I asked her, as she looked at me quizzically before smiling.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you from Kelly. I’m Y/N.” I motioned in the direction of the treatment room Kelly was now in. She smiled back but glanced at the cut on my forehead. “Let’s just take care of this, okay?”

April helped to plaster a band-aid on my forehead, commenting that it was a miracle I wasn’t that badly hurt.

----

(Jay’s POV)

I turned into the hospital, climbing out of my car before picking up my phone to dial Y/N’s number.

Pick up, come on.

As the ringing died out, I desperately tried Will’s number. “Are you in there?”

“I am. Listen, the guy who blew himself up in here said he had something worse than Ebola.”

I froze. “What, like, he’s spreading it with this?” The pit in my stomach was expanding.

Will affirmed it. “Yeah, every single one of us in here has been in contact with him.” I could almost feel the fear bubbling up inside of me.

“Who is he?” I demanded.

Will’s response didn’t help. “No idea. Do us all a favour and find out, would you?”

“Will, wait…” The line went dead before I could ask him anything else.

In desperation, I dialled her number again, hoping she would answer.

---

(Y/N POV)

Thanking April, I got up as she moved on to help Will and Gabriela with another patient.

As I stood, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, exhaling a breath as I stared at Jay’s name flashing back at me.

“Jay?” I answered.

“Tell me you’re not in there.” I could hear Jay’s voice laced with worry.

“Yeah, I am. Sorry.” I replied, looking around at the carnage.

“Damn it.” He cursed under his breath.

Even in this situation, I could imagine the look on his face. “Jay, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

I could hear him sigh. “Look, Will is there too, so…”

I interrupted him. “Yeah, I know. He’s looked me over already, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.”

“Y/N…” I could hear his reluctance.

“Jay… you do what you got to do to get us out of here.” I paused. “I love you.”

Jay let out another breath on his end. “Be safe. I love you.”

We hung up and I headed towards a corner of the room, squatting next to a mother and daughter when a part of the ceiling came crashing down, as the girl to scream in fright.

I turned to her. “Hey, what’s your name, sweetheart?” I eyed Otis who ran over armed with an extinguisher to fight the flames and I continued to talk to her, successfully distracting her from the fire. Her mother smiled in thanks at me and I just smiled back. “It’s going to be alright.” I reassured her, my eyes falling again on the treatment room Kelly had been wheeled into, not sure if I was reassuring her or myself.

I looked up again as some firefighters entered the emergency room with ladders and extra extinguishers, knowing this wasn’t a good sign. They clambered up the ladders, changing extinguishers the moment they emptied one. April was going around the room trying to reassure everyone and I squeezed the little girl’s hand and smiled at her.

“Fire’s out!”, “All clear!” The firefighters shouted, clambering down from the ladders.

---

(Jay’s POV)

I stood next to Adam, surveying the computer in front of us inside the makeshift tent we were stationed in.

“Detective.”

I turned to glance in the direction of the voice of Sharon Goodwin, noting the couple following behind her.

“The parents of…”

She didn’t need to say more. I motioned to a few chairs. “Hi. Please have a seat.”

“Is there anything you can tell us?”

The man looked up with pleading eyes. “He was a smart boy. Always nice, helpful. This country has given our family so much. How could this have happened?”

I looked away for a moment. “He claimed to be infected with something similar to Ebola.”

They looked up in horror, as the man closed his eyes, almost as if in defeat. “From his work.”

I frowned, “What do you mean, from his work?” Adam shifted his weight.

“He was working at BHO Labs. They study infectious diseases.”

I looked at Adam. “We got to get somebody down there right now.”

Adam nodded, “I’m on it.”

I turned back to the parents, “What else can you tell me? Anything about who he might have been involved with, planned this with?”

I needed to focus on this. I needed to get them out of there.

---

(Y/N POV)

Casey stopped in front of me. “How we doing?”

I nodded back at him. He glanced at the mother and daughter next to me. “I’m working on getting some food and water in here. Okay?” He smiled before getting up, patting my shoulder.

I watched his retreating back but was distracted by someone calling out to him. “Hey fireman!”

I watched as Casey turned towards the man, who towered over him. “What’s the latest?” he demanded.

Casey frowned. “Everyone’s doing all they can.”

The man’s voice rose again. “What the hell does that mean? No one is telling us anything!”

I flinched; shouting wasn’t something I handled very well.

Casey moved towards him, trying to ask him to calm down. He seemed to give up the fight against Casey, squatting down next to the counter but the next minute, I heard Gabby’s voice, “Matt!” as the big guy swung a pipe towards Casey.

I pushed myself further back into the wall, shutting my eyes, hearing the scuffling sounds. If everyone would just calm the hell down and focus on what mattered, the faster we could probably get out of here. I focused my thoughts on Jay, trying to even out my breathing so that I could prevent a panic attack.

“You doing okay?” Will asked, grabbing my elbow.

My eyes snapped open, darting towards the other side of the room where Casey and April seemed to have handled the situation pretty well.

“Come on, why don’t you come with me.” Will muttered, pulling me up and leading me into a room. Herrmann was inside talking to a doctor, who Will introduced as Diane Claman.

I stood in the corner of the room as Will’s phone rang, and I heard Jay’s voice on the other end of the line. Even at this distance, it felt reassuring.

 “He was working with Marburg, he injected himself with it.” Will repeated to Diane.

“What’s Marburg?” Herrmann asked, frowning a little.

Diane looked at us. “It’s a viral haemorrhagic fever. The Soviets developed it as a biological weapon.” Herrmann and I exchanged a look as she turned back to Will. “Ask them which strain of the Marburg virus.”

“Which strain?” Will’s voice broke the silence again.

“Ravn.” He repeated.

Jay must have said something and Will hung up with an “All right.”

Diane looked up again. “Okay, so now I just have to see if he was past the incubation period and actually infectious.”

For the first time, I spoke up. “And if he was past the incubation period?”

Will looked at me and shook his head slightly.

“It means Aleem was a walking biological weapon.” A grim silence fell across the room.

----

I had wandered to where the rest of the firefighters had gathered, outside the treatment room where Kelly was in.

I could see the doctor extract a piece of shrapnel from Kelly and just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a spurt of blood shot out from Kelly’s open wound. I heard Sylvie’s voice, “Arterial bleeder!”

I bit my lip as I felt someone take my hand. Gabby gave me a small smile, squeezing my hand. We turned back to the room, as the machine slowly showed Kelly’s vitals stabilising and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

A few minutes later, Herrmann emerged from another treatment room, looking dazed. Everyone looked up at him. “What is it?”

Herrmann let a small smile grace his lips. “Not contagious.” The sense of relief flooded the room as Diane stepped out. “Influenza A tested positive, but the Marburg virus didn’t have time to incubate. Whatever he had in his body died with him.”

The sigh of relief was audible as everyone hugged each other.

Will looked at me and smiled, nodding. “Open up the ER!” he announced, looking around.

---

(Jay’s POV)

I heard the vague sounds of the firefighters cheering outside and looked at Adam.

He nodded, motioning for me to head outside. I patted him on the back, jogging towards the ER, looking above all the heads to see if I could spot her.

--

(Y/N’s POV)

The only thing I wanted to do was to get out of here.

I looked towards Casey.

“Severide’s fine. We won’t be able to see him until tomorrow, anyway. Go.” He reassured me, guiding me towards the exit.

I stumbled out, wincing slightly at the bruises all over my body but peered.

I spotted him almost instantly, the worried lines across his face, scanning the crowd.

“Jay.” I breathed, heading straight for him. I crashed into his arms as I heard Jay’s sigh of relief in my ear. “Oh my god.” He muttered, pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around my body and cradling my head. I could feel how relieved he was as he sank his body into mine.

Quickly, he pulled away, surveying me at arm’s length. “Are you hurt?” he demanded.

I smiled, putting my hand against his cheek. “Bruised, but nothing serious.” I smiled.

“Thank God.” He pulled me back into his arms, holding me tightly as if he was never going to let me go.

Gently he broke away again, kissing me on the forehead. “Come on.” He muttered, gently leading me towards the white tents that I could now see.

“Halstead, get out of here.” Antonio appeared in front of us.

Jay paused, studying Antonio.

“I got you. Go on, get out of here.” Antonio winked at me and I nodded back at him gratefully.

“Thanks.” Halstead and Antonio fist bumped each other and Jay helped me into his car.

We didn’t say much on the ride back but Jay never let go of my hand.

We drove straight to his apartment and I headed straight for the shower, my bruised body welcoming the relief of warm water. Once we were cleaned up, Jay crawled into bed with me and I welcomed it, glad the day was over.

Jay put his chin on the top of my head. “You really scared me today.” He whispered.

My arms wrapped around his torso, I looked up at him.

“If I lost you…” his voice trailed off.

I leaned further into his embrace. “Honestly? I was scared too. Kelly got hurt… I was afraid I was going to lose him… afraid I wasn’t going to be able to see you again… I…” I paused before continuing, “Thanks for being here, Jay.”

Jay tilted my chin gently up so that I was looking at him and smiled. “Always.” Leaning forward, Jay pulled me into a deep kiss, which I leaned into, grateful that this day had ended as well as it could have.   

#chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd oneshot #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire oneshot #chicago pd #chicago fire #jay halstead #jay #jay halstead x reader #jay x reader #kelly severide #3x19 #i am the apocalypse #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #jay halstead x y/n

[mctherofdragons]

A Sanctuary Heart | 3 | SR

summary / after her abusive husband lands her in the intensive care unit, y/n changes her identity and moves as far away as possible. upon starting her new life, she meets dr.spencer reid and his son, maddox, when she begins her job as a teacher. but can she keep herself safe and keep up the facade with spencer? can she be safe at all?

pairing / spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings / slowburn romance, fluff, angst, marriage, trauma, domestic violence/abuse, dad!spencer, wheelchair use, paralysis, injury, ptsd flashbacks, car accident/serious injury, bullying, mention of ableism, a singular mention of god.

important links / series masterlist + domestic violence resources

authors note / i absolutely adored writing this chapter, omg. we get more of spencer and maddox's backstory. and things start to get a little more exciting as the rest of the team makes their first appearance! thank you all for the great feedback so far, i'm so glad you're enjoying the series. also my tags are not working, so reblogs on this chapter would be insanely appreciated. Flashbacks are in italics!

Seeing the blood on your hand, Spencer instinctively reached out to grab your wrist gently. You snatched your hand back, bringing yourself up to your feet, wobbling. You grabbed your bag, wrapping your hand in your scarf that you had managed to take off in the cool October night.“Ivy,” he said the moniker one more time and you felt your insides reel once more.

‘I’m a liar, Dr. Reid, I wish you knew,’ you thought to yourself, stumbling to search for your keys under the warm glow of the moon.

“I have to go. Thank you for dinner,” you contended, making your way out of the side gate. Spencer watched in confusion as you made your way out quickly. He figured he ought to chose his battles, not wanting to startle you by following after you.

Once you were safe inside your car, you sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. You felt a sharp combination of embarrassment and frustration. You wanted the flit of light that came from the possibility of new love. But instead, the one before had taken everything from you. Even now, all these miles and a new name away, he was pulling you away from those little flickers of brilliance and back into the darkness of yourself.

_____________________________

2 years earlier.

“Maddox,” Spencer whispered, feeling his heavy eyelids open just slightly. He was disoriented, noticing that the once right-side-up roadway was now upside down instead. The loud blaring of the horn was constant. It sent a piercing sound into Spencer’s ears and head, which caused him to wince. “Maddox.”

Spencer tried to turn, but he couldn’t move. Something had him pinned in the driver’s seat. He looked into the review mirror, which by grace alone wasn’t entirely broken. Maddox was slumped in his car seat, blood trickling down onto his Toy Story tee shirt. Spencer let out a weak gasp, trying again with no avail to move.

Spencer noticed how cold it was. It had been snowing all night, and Spencer wasn’t sure how long they had been where they are now. The snow had fallen through the shattered glass, tiny flakes gathering anywhere they could.

Using all of his strength, he turned his head to his wife. Her eyes were half shut, a trickle of crimson come from her mouth.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered. “Are you alright?”

She began to speak, but began to sputter, her lungs sounding flooded. Her hand curled and uncurled, and Spencer could barely reach it. He was able to hold onto her fingertips with his. They felt ice-cold like she was already three steps into Eternity. Spencer knew that type of frigid touch. He had come in content with it a million times, and the person on the other end was never living.

“D-don’t talk, baby. Okay? The ambulance is coming. Do you hear them? We’re going to be okay.”

Spencer could hear the medics somewhere far off in the distance. The repeated echo of the sirens sounded like a band of angels to him. Spencer Reid admittedly didn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian God. He wasn’t sure what he gave credence to, in fact. But at that moment, inverted in the shattered glass, surrounded by the labored breathing of his dying wife...he prayed.

________________________________

Spencer walked into the Bureau, adjusting the brown satchel on his shoulder. His brow looked furrowed as he sipped from his paper coffee cup. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you left, trying to profile what exactly had gone wrong between the Merlot and you rushing out of his backyard.

“Penny for your thoughts?,” Emily piqued as Spencer sat down, tossing his bag onto his desk. Spencer let out an exasperating sigh, taking another drink of his coffee.

“Just trying to figure someone out.”

“Oh, oh, oh. Is this a lady someone?,” Derek queried, wiggling his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning onto Spencer’s desk with a sparkling grin.

“Maybe.”

Spencer felt himself smiling despite his best efforts. Emily opened her mouth in surprise, giving Derek a playful shove.

“I told you he would get back out there, Morgan!”

Spencer smiled. “Yeah, she’s sweet. I just...don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

That morning, Spencer had put on his wedding band. He still did it when he was scared, or nervous, or needing to feel close to her. He would feel the cool metal atop his finger and feel less alone. For a brief moment when the metallic touched his skin, he could pretend she was still here.

Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“I hope you know me and Prentiss are just messing with you. We care about you, kid. We know these past two years have been hell for you. Just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah…I appreciate that. I just…,” Spencer paused, bringing his hands up as he spoke, as was so akin to him. His lip curled into the smallest smile. “Seeing this girl interact with Maddox. She...loves him for him..already?”

“Maddox is a great kid, Reid.”

“I know. I just don’t want her to find out---”

Spencer’s sentence was cut off by Hotch appeared, letting everyone know they had a case and to meet for Round Table. Spencer quickly shot a text to Maddox’s home health nurse, letting her know he’d need coverage for a few days.

________________________________

You sat in the front of your classroom, your eyes scanning from the test in front of you to the answer key. The students were working on a Social Studies project in small groups. Their task was to read a short story about colonial times and fill out a short worksheet. If they finished early they were permitted to color, which most of the children thoroughly enjoyed.

“Maddox can’t use crayons,” you heard a small voice snicker. You raised your eyebrow, hoping it wasn’t harmful, and rather just an observation.

You heard another child sling a slur at Maddox, who was sitting quietly with his aide, trying to ignore them. But as you looked up, you saw Maddox’s tiny bottom lip begin to wobble. One of the children picked up a crayon and threw it at Maddox, hitting him in the shoulder.

“He can’t even feel that! My dad said that’s why he’s in a wheelchair,” the bully jeered again, high-fiving his friend.

You stood up with a loud squeak of your chair against the linoleum floor.

“You two. Principals office. Now.”

The rest of the class erupted in a chorus of childish ‘ooo’s. You clapped your hands together - your universal signal to quiet down.

“I did not ask for comments from the audience,” you scolded. The children settled down, going back to their work, whispering amongst one another.

“Maddox, come talk to me in the hallway,” you offered. Tears were rolling down Maddox’s cheeks. His aide reached over with a tissue to wipe them, but he turned his face away, one of the only ways he could physically set a boundary.

Maddox’s aide helped him into the hallway and then left the two of you alone. You sat down on one of the small, metal benches in the hallway. At this angle, you were about Maddox’s height. He was blubbering, trying to take deep breaths as more tears came. You pulled a small, clean, cloth handkerchief from your pocket. He let you dab his cheeks, giving him a gentle click of the tongue.

“Buddy, do you want to talk about it?”

“T-they’re so m..m..mean to me,” he whimpered, closing his eyes as more tears fell. “And, and, and I can’t play with them even, that’s why. I can’t do anything!”

You nodded empathetically, gently catching more of Maddox’s tears.

“I hate school! My daddy wants me to like school. It’s all he talks about. I hate him!”

“Maddox,” you softly redirected. “That’s not very nice. You don’t hate your dad.”

Maddox looked a deep breath. You smiled, knowing Spencer must have taught him to do that when he was upset.

“You’re right. But I’m sad, and I wanna go home.”

You sighed, reaching up to blot the little bit of redness still present on Maddox’s cheeks. You adjusted his glasses, moving some of his curly brown hair from underneath the metal.

“Just a few more hours, okay? We have library at the end of the day.��

Maddox’s face lit up, his apple cheeks glowing beneath the rims of his glasses. “Library!”

“Yes, and just for this week, you can take home two books.”

______________________________

Spencer felt distracted the entire flight to Vermont. He knew he was going to be far away for a while, and that Maddox wouldn’t know until he got out of school for the day. The agent detested when he had to leave without Maddox knowing in advance, but it was usually impossible given the nature of things. Thankfully, Reid had a good setup of support through healthcare and respite so Maddox never went without someone to care for him.

Then, there was you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your reaction. He had seen it before in abuse victims. The way you flinched when he moved too fast, the apologizing like your life depended on it, even the way you looked at him with pleading eyes, desperate to avoid a blow. He bridged his fingers together, thinking to himself for a moment.

With that, he stood up, making his way to the back of the plane. He unlocked his phone while he chewed his fingernail with his free hand. Before he knew it, he was calling Garcia.

“Penelope. Hey, I need a favor. A personal one. If you could keep it between us, that would be great.”

“Anything for you, my precious string bean.”

Spencer laughed. “I need you to get all the information you can on someone. Ivy Porter.”

“Ivy Porter. That’s like a movie star name. What did she do?”

“Um..nothing, I don’t think. Just call me when you’ve got something, and email me everything you find.”

“You got it. Every in and out of Ms. Ivy Porter coming to you soon. Be safe. Talk soon.”

With that, Penelope clicked off of the call. Spencer sat back down, anxiously waiting for whatever information Penelope could find about you.

___________

series/criminal minds taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @rainbows-dreams @bvttercupbby @k-k0129 @rexit-mo @britishspidey @graciehams @manuosorioh @shemarmooresfedora @big-galaxy-chaos @thatoneszesty13 @ssavanessa22 @awritingtree @sweetandsunny​ @rainsong01 @kuolonsyoja @taralewiz @bluelittleblackgirl @asexual-booknerd @the-wolfie

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series

[therenlover]

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

A/n: In the wake of recent life garbage, I have neglected to write a whole fic, and I’m sorry. In the interim, please enjoy this writing exercise I have put together in the hopes of nailing some characters I haven’t written for in the past in time for a larger project I’m working on! Cheers!

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, and Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Mild Misogyny, Mentions of Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Mental Illness, Non-Graphic Mentions of Death, Minor Spoilers for The Alienist Season One, Minor Spoilers for Goodbye, Lenin!, Spoilers for Rush (2013), Minor Spoilers for The Cloverfield Paradox maybe??? I haven’t actually seen the whole movie, blame Wikipedia if things are wrong. 

Laszlo Kreizler

NO

As the first of all of the Dannys to be put through the ringer, Laszlo Kreizler unfortunately would not survive a holiday with my family.

First of all, this man does not like massive huggy kissy crowds, so he’d already be off his game the second he walked into the packed house. That’s not why he’d die though, surprisingly.  

His downfall would be his status as an Alienist. 

There is simply so much mental illness and childhood trauma present at my family holidays that he would combust within 15 minutes of sitting in a room with all of my relatives.

Even if he were to somehow make it past the introductory phase, my family is nosey as hell, so they’d be grilling him about his arm and his own childhood trauma within the first hour. 

Laszlo, for all of his strength, simply wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

His death wouldn’t come from the initial combustion though. No, it’s not that simple. 

Knowing Laszlo, once he had combusted and entirely lost his composure the first time, he would become extremely intrigued about the interconnected nature of everyones issues with each other and he would start asking questions. 

That’s where the problems would begin. 

Because it’s one thing if my drunk great aunt starts badmouthing her sister at the table for abandoning her 90 year old mother for a lake house with her new boyfriend. That’s fine. 

But when Laszlo hops in and starts picking apart the mommy issues and underlying reasons for their decades long sibling rivalry? 

Oh it would be over for him. 

The yelling would never end. 

And, I have no doubt that Laszlo would start to psychoanalyze whoever started to yell at him, which would only lead to more yelling. 

In the end, someone would throw a probably full and probably fresh out of the oven casserole dish at his head and he’d be unable to defend himself because of his weak arm. 

We’d have to cart him out in a wheelchair and even if he were to technically survive, he’d never come back. 

Therefor, Laszlo Kreizler would fall victim to my family and die before we even got to dessert. 

Alex Kerner

YES

Ah, little baby Alex! A great contender here for holiday survival.

He seems relatively young in comparison to most of the Dannys on this list, though I don’t actually know how old he’s supposed to be. 

Based on his relative youth, he would automatically get points with the fam for not seeming like a creep or sugar daddy. Instead, he could be just about any dude I brought home from college. 

His skillset as a semi-skilled laborer would also earn him some points, seeing as several members of the family are in similar professions.

Alex might get lost in some of the more complex conversations about the local organic scene or the fine details of running a fine art gallery, but he would fit right in with the majority of the younger members of the family, smiling and nodding his way through the conversation. 

His enthusiasm and optimism would brighten the room and leave everyone excited to see him around again. 

There’s also the semi-small detail of him caring for his mother, which would earn sympathy from the older members of the family as they are in charge of caring for my deaf, blind great grandmother. 

Now, all of these aspects have already set Alex up for a successful survival of a holiday dinner with my family, but the real secret weapon he has up his sleeve is what really cements him in place as a survivor. 

What is his secret weapon, you may ask?

Lies.

Alex Kerner is really, really good at lying, and is even better at figuring out increasingly convoluted ways to keep his lies straight. 

If he managed to hide to fuckin’ Berlin Wall coming down from his mother for as long as he did, he could keep a couple of white lies up for appearances if he was asked any potentially embarrassing or weird questions that would make him look bad. 

He could also lie about enjoying my great aunt’s cooking, which is a vital skill for holiday survival in my family. 

Therefor, at the end of the day, Alex Kerner would not only survive a holiday with my family, but he’d probably enjoy it and get invited back for every subsequent holiday he could possibly attend. 

Niki Lauda

NO

Niki is another Danny that falls very firmly into the category of characters that would absolutely not survive a holiday with my family, for many, many reasons. 

First of all, just like Laszlo, Niki is not huge on going to big huggy kissy parties. 

Both adults and children would be all over him the second he walked in the door, which would probably make Niki get very uncomfortable and cagey. 

Little does he know at that point that people aren’t just all over you when you get in the door. 

No, no, no; from the moment you show up to the moment you leave, if you’re at a holiday with my family you are being basically accosted with questions and hugs and conversations that get weirdly personal. 

It doesn’t help that the whole entire house is packed and there are eyes on you at every moment, so he wouldn’t even be able to sneak in a break for air or a cigarette. 

If my own mother can’t sneak out for a smoke when she’s been going to these events her whole life, the new guy who’s still being vetted by the family sure as hell won’t be able to either.

Needless to say, Niki would start to get really, really tired of it all in an hour tops. I’ll give him until dinner at most. 

That’s where things would start getting really sticky.

See, a lovely little fact about the Niki Lauda that lives in my brain, as portrayed by Daniel Bruhl in Rush (2013), is that he’s just a little bit misogynistic. No more than would be period typical, but a little misogynistic.

Another fun little important thing to note is that my family is entirely matriarchal in nature. 

There are only 4 reoccurring male guests at family holidays out of about 20 to 25 guests at each event; My great aunt’s husband of many, many years, the two male siblings my mother has that live in the area, and the young son of one of those siblings. 

Men, specifically boyfriends, simply do not last in my family. They are considered pretty disposable and easily banned from family events after breakups or small mishaps. 

So, not only would Niki not have any other manly men there to chat about sports with over a scotch and a cigarette, he would be surrounded by so much estrogen that he would definitely struggle with his inner asshole even more than usual. 

In fact, we never have sports on, even on Thanksgiving. Poor Niki would be stuck hearing conversations about artisanal candlemakers and how to hand felt a woodland elf puppet.

Back to his downfall, the second he made a slightly sketchy joke about women in the kitchen at the dinner table to my great uncle, his fate would be sealed.

If you thought the yelling at Laszlo would have been bad, this yelling would be ten times worse, because he would be surrounded by like 20 very angry, very defensive, and very strong women waiting to beat the shit out of him and I would not be any help. 

He dug the hole, so he can climb out of it. 

In the end, his death would come when he tried to light a cigarette and calm himself down at the dinner table while trying to rescind his earlier statement, because smoking inside around all the precious textile art? Thats a big no no. 

My great aunt would grab the lighter right out of his hand, light up whatever cocktail she had at the moment, and throw it all directly into Niki’s face.

It would be like crashing his car all over again, only this time he would be surrounded by people who would rather he burn than try to get him out of the situation. 

Moral of the story, Niki would die within the first few hours of a holiday with my family because he made an asshole comment to a room full of women who don’t put up with that shit. Don’t be like Niki, even if you think you won’t get killed for it. 

Andrea Marowski

YES

Andrea is pretty much the polar opposite of Niki here, and I love him for it. 

He is very soft, very kind, very pure, and would never dare to say something rude at the dinner table like a certain racer we all know.

He couldn’t even say something rude if he tried to, because he probably wouldn’t have the English in his vocabulary to say the things he wanted to say even if he intended to say them out loud. 

But let’s be honest here, Andrea would never. 

Even with his limited English, Andrea would appreciate being surrounded by a whole bunch of people who think he’s the sweetest little thing since the invention of cake. 

My great grandmother, despite being almost entirely blind and deaf, would say he looked darling and he would immediately be a member of the family from the moment he stuttered out his thanks. 

Andrea, like Alex, is also relatively young, so he would get points for not being old enough to be my father. 

I feel like, because Andrea was shown living happily in a tiny village by the ocean with two old ladies, he would have an appreciation for craft, so he wouldn’t mind sitting quietly as my great aunt pawns off a handmade blanket from my great grandmother to him. 

He would also happily sit with the younger children and do whatever craft or simple game one of my aunts brought for them that time. 

The cherry on top with Andrea is his skill with the violin. 

My family is one that appreciates fine art a lot, but more than anything we appreciate music. 

I wouldn’t say that any of us are anywhere close to Andrea’s proficiency, but we definitely aren’t terrible, and we all can appreciate the effort, practice, and talent that goes into getting truly good on an instrument like Andrea is on his violin. 

He would be encouraged to play, of course, and he would happily oblige. 

If he felt comfortable enough, I could even see my great uncle grabbing his guitar, my cousin sitting at the piano, and my sister bringing out her own violin to do a little quartet with some simple song they knew as everybody else sang along. 

By the end of the holiday evening, once dinner was served and people were heading to the cars, Andrea would definitely be considered a member of the family. 

Needless to say, he’d survive and pass their tests with better than flying colors, even despite the language barrier. 

Ernst Schmidt

NO

Now, Ernst was probably the most difficult one on this entire list to put into the living or dying category. In the end, though, there were a few things that couldn’t be overlooked that send him into bad territory. 

To be fair, though, he would last the longest out of everyone who would die tragically at one of my family’s holiday gatherings. 

He, like the past two victims, would not be exactly suited for the mushy crowding that’s inevitable when it comes to my family. 

That being said, I think he would deal with it a little bit better than the other two did and would make polite conversation with the family when he could. 

The fact that he was trapped in a packed house filled with drunk people who have several generations worth of beef with each other, though, would start to get him eventually. 

If we consider all of the shit that happened while he was in space to be canonical minus, you know, the earth getting really fucked up, he would probably start to go a little bit nuts while packed together with that many passive aggressive people.

The second someone burst into tears on the way to the bathroom he would start to lose his shit. 

Still, I think Schmidt would probably be fine-ish until dessert was served, because that’s about the time where all the adults are absurdly drunk, so insanity ensues. 

They would start poking at him about his credentials and experiences as a physicist. 

He would answer their questions at first, but, unfortunately for him, the questions would turn more and more personal and uncomfortable as time went on. 

Did he ever still think about what happened up in space? Did he blame himself for not getting things to work correctly? How much did he miss his old world and old life? Did he ever have nightmares about what he saw? How much did it hurt to get shot?

They’d poke and poke and poke in their drunken state until poor Schmidt would snap at them, flying into a slight rage at their insistent probing. 

From there, he would be swiftly asked to leave and then “accidentally” run over while calling an Uber to take him to wherever he’s staying as my drunk great aunt tries to back out of the driveway to drive down the block to her house. 

In the end, Schmidt and his wit would be really close to surviving a holiday with my family , but he would, unfortunately, let his anger get the best of him, and it would be the last thing he ever did. Literally. 

Helmut Zemo

YES, BUT ONLY BARELY

Okay, so my earlier comment about Ernst being the most difficult out of everyone was incorrect. Zemo was, by far, the hardest to put into one category or the other. 

His wit and charm won out in the end, though, and I determined that he would survive one single holiday with my family. 

If he ever came back for a second he definitely wouldn’t make it, but he would succeed in living past the first one. 

Helmut’s problems start, surprisingly, not with the fact that he is a criminal. In fact that doesn’t even cause any problems for him. 

No, instead they start with the fact that he is 43.

I am 99% sure that my mother is 43, and I know for a definite fact that he’s older than one of my uncles who would be present. I, at the time of writing this, am 18. 

Needless to say, literally everyone would be massively suspicious of him and his intentions the second he walked through the door. The amount of money in his bank account definitely wouldn’t help in this situation either. 

The family would warm up to him eventually, though, because if there’s one thing Helmut is good at besides killing people, it’s making people like him even if they absolutely shouldn’t. 

With his expansive knowledge of what feels like literally everything rich and niche, he would slowly win over the older members of the family. Who knew the strange old man Jac brought home was so well versed in the American pottery scene, or that he could name specific jewelry artists from across the world that my family had done business with for years?

My family definitely wouldn’t. At least, not at first. 

Oh how they’d learn, though. 

Another nice thing about Zemo that would allow him to survive is his aggressive politeness.

No matter how many weird glances or dirty looks he got over the course of dinner, he would simply continue to be the best version of himself in the hopes of impressing everyone. 

He would even pretend to enjoy my great aunt’s cooking and get himself seconds, because I’m sure it would be easier to scarf down than whatever he and his EKO Scorpion squad had to eat while serving in the Sokovian special forces. 

On the tail end of reasons he would be accepted, Helmut Zemo drinks alcohol like it’s water, so he would fit right in drinking white wine and cocktails through the night with the rest of the adults. 

((I think he’d totally tease me about not being able to drink with him, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways...))

His slight downfall would come from something entirely uncontrollable by him or anybody else. 

And that something would be my flirty aunt. 

I love my aunt. She’s wonderful in her own special way. 

That being said, I know if a hot Sokovian baron with a nice smile and a fat pocketbook showed up to one of out holidays, even if he was introduced as my partner, she would be going for the kill all night long. 

This would make Helmut more and more uncomfortable as she got more and more drunk, because lets face it, he’s probably not very comfortable with being touched by near-strangers anyways, and being touched by a drunk member of his partners family who is very obviously coming on to him? 

That’s even more difficult to deal with. 

That being said, Helmut is a man who has been shown to be extremely in control of his emotions. 

He would swallow down whatever awkwardness he felt, make it to the end of the night, and, once he had escaped her clutches, he would politely say that he was never going back to another holiday function with my family again, though he would be happy to facilitate me still attending them. 

So, in the end, Helmut Zemo would survive one holiday with his sheer stubborn politeness alone. 

I will say that his patience would absolutely wear thin if he attended a couple more holidays and he would eventually die of a stress induced heart attack after being unable to politely decline my aunt’s advances. 

For now, though, he’s safe.

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #niki lauda #andrea marowski #ernst schmidt #laszlo kreizler #alex kerner #jac rambles #imagine #the danny bunch

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I’m No Good - o n e

Summary: Tallulah Forester isn’t a bad person, she’s just made one too many bad decisions. Which is why she has now found herself four hours away from her home in Seattle, to her estranged fathers little home in La Push, with her stepmom and two half sisters, whom she has only been with a couple of times in the past 15 years. Her mother and father had agreed, shockingly, that the small town lifestyle would be beneficial to their wild child, but bad habits die hard, especially when it comes to being in control.

Timeline: Takes place a few years after the events of Breaking Dawn

Pairing: Paul Lahote x OC (Tallulah is 18)

Warnings (future chapters): Drugs/Alcohol, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Jealousy, Mental Health, (Mentions of SA, but no details)

There are losses that rearrange the world. Deaths that change the way you see everything, grief that tears everything down. Pain that transports you to an entirely different universe, even while everyone else thinks nothing has really changed.

Tallulah stared out the window in the back seat with her knees tucked up to her chest, arms wrapped around them tightly as her father drawled on, switching from topic to topic, your sisters and Kira are so excited your coming to we’ve already enrolled you at the school to do you remember this person or that person? Anything to fill the silence from creating a  suffocating atmosphere in the car. It all sounded like white noise to her, she barely remembered La Push. 

She moved to Seattle with her mother when she was six and the two of them never looked back, whenever she would see her father or half-sisters, they would meet halfway in Port Angeles and then head their separate ways. It was easier that way for everyone involved. 

Josette and Lenna, her half-sisters, were ten the last time she spent any actual memory inducing time with them. Although they are only two years younger than her, they were so different. So in tune with the tribe, whereas she barely knew anything about the histories. She doubted anything would have changed in that respect.

Tallulah's headaches from her hangover, or maybe lack of sleep, she thought, and as she laid her head against the window she listened to the sound of passing cars and her dad's voice as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

--------

Tallulah awoke to the sound of the car door shutting and a nearby dog barking, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, grateful her headache was gone, but now in its place was a lump in her throat, as she looked around her surroundings outside of the car. The little blue house she vaguely remembers. The tire swings in the old oak tree. A woman's laugh caught her attention, as she looked to see her dad and stepmom, chatting away, happier than ever. Tallulah felt so out of place. Like she was an intruder coming in to ruin her fathers happy, little family with her black cloud of disappointment. 

Tallulah groaned to herself as she unbuckled herself, might as well get this over with, she thought to herself while opening the car door and slowly stepping out, stretching as she did. She could feel the two adults eyes on her as she shut the door gently, looking towards them, Kiras big smile, that if she didn’t know better would look insincere, but she did know. Her stepmom was a tryhard, doing anything and everything to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother and stepmother, no matter how hard Tallulah pushed against her kind persona. She was the reason her family was in pieces. Kira and her father were no doubt in love, even when her parents were still together, they never looked at each other the way she sees her father looks at Kira and vice versa, like they are each other's reasons for being. She moves, he moves. Tallulah nearly physically cringes. It's not something she ever wants for herself, that fairy tale love.

She walks toward them slowly, Kira meeting her halfway, wrapping her arms in a bear crushing hug that she doesn’t reciprocate, looking past her at her father who has that ‘be nice’ look on his face, and clearly, she was in no place to fight that. She couldn’t help but think, if this doesn't work out the way her parents think it will, where is the next place she would be shipped off to? 

Kiras' soft, sweet voice shakes her from her thoughts, “it's so nice to see you again. Your hair has gotten so long.” Tallulah raises an eyebrow before stating, “I've cut it a few times since I saw you last.” Kira laughs off the dig, before walking towards her father and saying, “the twins are out, we’d figured you'd be better off getting settled without a full house.” Tallulah nodded in response as her father spoke up for the first time since arriving, “besides, we have some things to discuss. Expectations and what not,” 

Tallulah eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Rules? I’m eighteen. I don’t need to have any rules.” Her arms crossed over chest, as if she were a child. 

“If you think that you will be continuing your..extracurricular activities that you have picked up in Seattle, you are wrongly mistaken” he says in what she assumes is his fatherly tone that works on the twins, but not her, he gave up that right fifteen years ago. “Your mother has filled us in on everything, Tally” She rolls her eyes at this, as if she knows everything, she thought to herself.

Kira stood up on the porch, just inside the doorway, “Joseph, let her settle in, we can have this conversation tomorrow, after the bonfire.” she said in ‘dont fight me in this tone’, to which Tallulah appreciated, yet was confused, “Bonfire?” she asked, as she made her way up the steps of the house leaving her dad to bring in her few bags, “The tribe bonfire party happens once a month, the girls love it, plus you can meet some of your classmates before you start school.” Kira spoke as if this was something she should look forward to, but in all honesty, large gatherings were not Tallys scene, despite what her mother thinks. But, she would attend, save face and hope with good behaviour she would be back in Seattle with her friends in no time. This thought reminded her to shoot them a text quickly explaining her situation, hoping they would see it as an SOS, before shoving her phone back in her pocket and following Kira around the house like a little kid, listening to where things were kept, which rooms were which and then finally a stop at the room in which she would call hers. The walls were a blank, cream color, with light blue bedding and a wooden desk shoved in the corner, along with what looks like textbooks sitting on top.She nods politely as Kira mentions they will be leaving within the hour but try to settle in and suggests she may want to change out of her cotton shorts, as it “gets quite cold compared to Seattle” as she put it.

-----

7:14 read the time on Tallulah's phone as they walked up to the beach, the sun had just begun to set and the temperature had, in fact, dropped quite a bit, thankful for Kiras advice, Tallulah had changed into a pair of loose, blue jeans and had tucked her hands into the pockets of her oversized, black hoodie, fingers curled under the long sleeves to keep them warm.

She walked slightly behind Kira and her father, standing off to the side as they were greeted by people, before they had reached whom she suspected to be the twins. They looked so different from what she remember, her father lowly spoke to her, as Kira caught their attention, pointing out the smaller of the two as Josette and the taller, as Lenna. Josie dawned a baggie pair of dark pair of overalls, with a striped sweater underneath, her hair in two space buns, which was quite different from her sister, in her plaid mini skirt and form-fitting long sleeve shirt, her pin straight, dark hair fanned out behind her back. Tallulah could already tell they wouldn’t get along.

 She watched as Lenna stalked away from her mother to a group of people who looked around their age, before snapping her eyes back at the sound of her name being called, to see Kira and Josette waving her over, before she could even move her feet willingly, her dad was nudging her in their direction, as if she would turn and walk the other way. 

Josette moved over so she could sit directly beside, a friendly smile that resembled Kiras on her face, “ Hi Tally” she spoke her childhood nickname softly, “it’s been awhile, you look so much older, not in a bad way, like mature, adultish, but obviously your only two years older than me so not technically an adult..” she rambled off, “Hey Josette” and before Tallulah could say anything else, she was interrupted by the younger girl, “Its Josie or Jo, whichever fine, just not Josette” she spoke quickly, a pale blush crossing her olive toned skin, to which Tallulah just nodded and asked, “How long do these things last?”

“That depends,” Josie spoke, “Typically the adults leave once the stories and tribal matter finishes, so maybe an hour or two. But we usually stay later, or at least Lenna does.” she said, looking in the direction of her twin, who was now surrounded by a group of other rambunctious teenagers. “Sam Uley's crew is here tonight, so who knows if that will even happen, especially after last time.” Tallulah didn’t question the younger girl, mainly because she just didn’t care to. She looked away from Lenna and her friends, her eyes gazing on all the unfamiliar faces sitting on logs or picnic tables surrounding the growing fire. 

Her eyes stopped on what seemed to be a couple, the girl was beautiful, her long black hair was tied up into a neat ponytail, she was talking to a man in a wheelchair beside her, who looked like he could be her dad, her eyes shifted to the man sitting next her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he was in shorts and a shirt and looked perfectly comfortable in the frigid air, he was joking around with the boys next to him, as if the beautiful girl next to him was really there, despite his arm around her, “Thats Paul Lahote.” Josie said from next to her, causing her to flush from her obvious staring, he looked in their direction, as if he had heard Josie say his name, they locked eyes for a split second before Tallulah looked away embarrassed she had been caught. “Don’t worry, Lenna stares at him too,” Josie laughed jokingly, “I wasn’t staring” Tallulah spoke defensively, Josie raised her hands in surrender before leaning in close, “looks like he's the one staring now” Josie grinned, watching as Tallulah looked back at the older boy, noticing that he was staring at her, almost like a deer in headlights. He looked so familiar, though she doubts that they have ever met before. He smiles at her slightly, his arm retracting from the girl beside him despite her protest to his movement, and now the beautiful women is also looking at her, causing Tallulah to look down at her sleeve covered hands that lay in her lap, only looking up again when her father sits in the spot next to her, asking if she's alright, to which she absentmindedly nods her head. Is she alright after her entire life has been altered in the last 12 hours? What kind of question is that?

Her eyes are drawn back to the spot Paul Lahote was sitting in, or had been sitting in, the seat was now vacant, the man nowhere in her line of sight, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed.

#paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote #twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack #embry call #leah clearwater #you know im no good #chapter 1

[courtofcravings]

Another you (2)

Warning: Some blood, needles, minor injuries.

Completed. 

“Also, Y/N, you should call me Jim… Jim or Kirk.” 

“But, Sir? Is that appropriate?” You asked him. You’ve never worked with a captain who was okay with being familiar around their inferior officers. “I think after today, it would be weird if you didn’t,” He said, looking down at you, smiling softly.

“Alright, Jim… Jim or Kirk,” You said, not as a question, but more to mock him like a dad joke. To which he laughed at, “Perfect,” He looked down at the phaser and back at the area you two were walking towards. “So what is this I hear about you not knowing how to use a phaser? Seems pretty standard for anyone going into the field,”

“That’s just it; I know the standard, and that phaser is anything but.” You two walked for a decent amount of time, as he explained to you what the different buttons do, even quizzing you on the important ones to ensure you can protect yourself.

“You know, Bones thinks that I should ask you out.” Your head whipped at him, of all things to come out of his mouth. “Does he?” You asked back, hiding a creeping blush. You refused to look at him, staring ahead. “He’s known I’ve had a crush on you for a while, although, after this morning when we tag-teamed him, he might have changed his opinion.”

“Might never want to see us together in the same room, let alone in a relationship.” You added. With a burst of courage, you asked, “How long have you had this crush, Jim?”

“Since the day Bones introduced us. You’ve had to see that I’ve been showing up at your lab way more often,”

“I thought you were just coming to bug Doctor McCoy in the lab while we worked on the research. Anytime you and I talked, it was always short conversations about the work.” You’ve always liked the captain, but you never believed he’d actually return those feelings.

“I was intimidated.” You stopped walking, “Why are you telling me this now?” You inquired. Does he think you won’t make it out? Off this planet?

“When you face a life or death situation, these confessions seem so pointless to hold back.” You stopped walking and turned to face him; you reached up and planted a small peck on his cheek. “Well, I’d have to agree with Bones; you should ask me out.”

Eventually, you two came across the nest, a large caved in whole in the ground, with small tents inside of it. “I thought this was a diplomatic mission; what did you guys do to piss off the natives?” You asked him, looking at all the different guards walking around.

“They aren’t the natives of this planet that we came to see; these new species killed or enslaved the natives of this planet.” You shivered, not from the icy air this planet had, but from the amount of death that must have occurred here. Jim gave you a reassuring squeeze.

He was freezing to touch, but you knew it wasn’t from the air; it was from the blood loss he’d suffered. He needed real medical attention and fast.

“Why did they take our crew?” You had a sinking feeling in your stomach, made even worse at the fact that you couldn’t see your missing crew. “Trophies of conquering, they will be slaves.”

Near the camp’s left side was a small metal rod hooked to a large box. “Jim,” You pointed at it, recognizing what it was immediately, “That is what is blocking our comms, our transporters. If I can get to it I c-” He scoffed, interrupting me. “Absolutely not, that area is surrounded by them, and you can’t even use a phaser,” He said, his blue eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Okay, and what is your grand plan? To run in guns blazing? You can’t even move without me supporting you, and don’t try to tell me you’re fine.” You returned using the same tone he had with you and the same look he was giving you. “I am well aware of the trauma your body is undergoing due to blood loss right now, so stop telling me you are fine because you aren’t.”

This morning you couldn’t imagine not addressing him by captain, and now you are snapping back at him. What a development. But you know you are still right, so you are not going to apologize.

“I have no idea what Bones was saying; you are much more like him than me.”

“What!? think first, do next?” You scoffed.

“Exactly, but with a bit more pessimism.”

“Your definition of realism and pessimism are confused. If I were pessimistic, there would have been no way I’d almost die trying to help you when you were tied up. With all that blood loss, there is no point in saving a dead man.”

“Come on, Y/N, we both know you only did that because you couldn’t handle this handsome face going to waste.” He said in your ear, making heat creep up to your cheeks.

“Maybe, I am more like Bones; I am starting to learn his bitterness for you,” You bit back. He smiled, looking pale. He needed medical help, and your arm wasn’t doing so well either. You had pushed back the pain while walking in the forest, but It was throbbing—pain radiating up your arm.

“Jim, let me. If I can take it down, you can use the comms. The ship can lock onto the crew and get them out,” You reasoned with him.

“Fine. But if it is too dicey Y/N, I want you to run; you haven’t trained in combat,” He was right; there wouldn’t be much you can do if they confronted you.

“Stay here,” You said, leaning him against a tree. “I really can’t go anywhere,” He replied. Right, at least it’s reassuring to know he can’t get into any trouble. “Be careful,” He said and placed a small kiss on your forehead. “I said it last time, and you didn’t listen, so I’ll repeat it as your captain, don’t do anything stupid.”

You snuck around the nest, hoping not to fall into any of the guard’s eye view. The grey antenna was sitting there waiting to be turned off by you.

Tiptoeing between the tents, you stopped dead in your tracks. You heard that woman’s voice from before talking, having a conversation with two other voices. In the tent to your right, they must have been in there. You took your phaser out and looked under the tight, lifting to see inside it. They were alone.

“You,” The woman said, “Y/N, the scientist.” You ran to her first, untying her, handing her a phaser, then moving to the next two, “The captain?” Sulu asked solemnly. “He is alive, barley. He lost a lot of blood. There is a device blocking the comms I need to take down so we can get out of here.” You informed them. It was mutually decided they should sit still since they were wounded and could possibly attract more attention by being in a larger group.

Making it to the box, you realized it was locked. As much as you wanted to do this quietly, it was out of your hands. This is extremely stupid. You lined up the phaser and shot it a few times until there was a thick hole in the box. You were, hopefully, powering it down so the comms will work.

You stepped back slightly, hitting a hard surface. No, not a surface; it was a body. In an instant, you were picked up and thrown into a wall, hitting your head and back. You couldn’t move but braced for a second impact.

It never came.

“Y/N!” You heard Jim say. Opening your eyes at the sound of his voice, you saw that you were on the ground, safe, in the transport bay. “I can’t believe we actually survived that,” There was blood dripping down your head, and your arm was throbbing, but you were alive.

“Always so pessimistic, Y/N; I knew the whole time we’d be fine.”

“Depends on your definition of fine; you have a hole in your leg, I personally would not call that fine,”

“There is no point in arguing with him, Y/N,” Bones said, walking in with a wheelchair for Jim. “Hey, what happened to don’t do anything stupid? I watched you get tossed.”

“Just thought to myself… hmm, what would Jim do? And as it turns out, it was stupid and dangerous.”

Jim went to make some snarky comeback but instead started to faint. You and bones both supported him and lowered him into the chair. “Sorry, guys, I guess I’m falling too hard for Y/N,”

“Only you would try to be a flirt went fainting from blood loss,” Bones responded. You couldn’t even look at him with your face so heated; you just stayed silent all the way down to Med bay.

Bones took Jim into a private room and began working on his leg. You didn’t know what to do, shower and rest or wait to make sure Jim is alright. “Excuse me, miss?” An older gentleman placed a hand on your shoulder, introducing himself as Dr. Jean. “Dr. McCoy told me to look at your head.”

“I’m really, okay,” Dr. Jean insisted, so you caved; you didn’t mind sitting down for a second. He cleaned up your head wound and did a concussion exam. It came back normal, so he cleared you. Honestly, you were tuckered out from today; you decided to sit and wait outside for Dr. McCoy and Jim. Being too tired to walk upstairs, you chose to close your eyes while waiting.

You felt someone gently shaking your shoulder, but you could barely move. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt too heavy. “What do you mean you cleared her!? Does she look okay to you?” You heard someone yell, no, not someone. “Doc..Doctor McCoy?” Someone beside you cupped your cheek. “Hey, Bones, she’s talking.” You knew that voice, but your felt brain so foggy. “Jim, tell me her heart rate,”

“Jim?” You felt a hand on your neck, “Ouch.” It was still bruised from today. “Bones, I can barely feel one,”

“Nurse Chapel, help me lift her,” You heard her ask more questions, but she was talking so fast, it was hard for your head to digest them. “Foggy” You felt out of breath from just those few words, making it harder to talk, “Doctor, my head,” The doctor and nurse laid you down.  

“I’m Telling You, McCoy! She did not have a concussion.” Someone growled, “Pulse is thready and weak, not fully alert,” You were able to open your eyes slowly; everything around you much too bright.

You felt a comforting warmth touch your hand. “Vitals are not holding,” You looked at your hand; it was Jim. “You were,” You kept running out of breath “Jim, I think she’s talking to you, try to ask her-,” He looked between you and the doctor, “You were so cold when we,” You took a couple of rapid breaths, “But now you’re very warm.”

“Start her on an IV and 92% oxygen.” You noticed you couldn’t feel anything on your one arm, where the scratch is. “Doctor,” You spoke so much already, you felt so out of breath, “My arm,” Dr. McCoy stepped to the side to look at it. “Dammit,” He finished lifting your sleeve, “Jim, you said she scratched it? That looks infected, and her symptoms would suggest venom… maybe the plant was venomous?” He turned to order Nurse Chapel to do something.

You felt an oxygen mask go over your face; Jim was holding it. Finally, feeling like you can breathe and fill your lungs again, “You stayed with me?” Jim looked down at you, “Of course, couldn’t let Bones have all the glory,” He replied while glancing at bones, who was cleaning the wound.

“And here, I thought it was because you couldn’t let my beautiful face go to waste.”

“That contributed to it.” He gave you a small chaste kill on your forehead, brushing your hair out of the way of your face. “Y/N, Your wound has been thoroughly cleaned. Nurse Chapel is going to administer a remedy; it may make you drowsy” You reached your other hand to grab the doctor’s arm and gave a squeeze. “Your welcome, Darlin,” He said, dismissing himself.

“So when am I getting this date?”

“This doesn’t count!?” He asked, feigning surprise. “As much as I think it’s romantic that you almost bled out, and I almost died in a chair, I feel like others may disagree,”

“When you wake up,”

The doctor was right. You slept for about 16 hours while the anti-venom worked through your body. Besides your achy muscles, you were feeling great, energetic even.

“Y/N, you’re finally awake,” Bones walked in to greet you. I know someone will be happy to hear that. He will not stop bugging me about you. “Jim?” The doctor took some quick vitals on you before he felt okay to discharge you. “He has some trouble walking right now, so I sent him to rest. That, of course, has not stopped him from calling to check-in.”

“Can you do me a favor and not tell him I’m awake yet?” Bones gave you a curious look but agreed.

After showering and stopping by the cafeteria, you made it to his door—Ready for a real date. You heard the familiar chime that let him know someone was at the door, and you waited for the swoosh of the door.

It opened, and he was standing there, leaning on his crutch.

“I thought we could have our date, I was promised,” Holding up a bottle of whiskey and some warm fresh food in containers. “You’re awake!?” He signaled with his arm for you to walk in. “Bones didn’t tell me you were awake. Did he check you up before you left?” You set down the food and drinks, turning to face him. “Yes, of course,” He took a few steps over to you, a smile on his face.

“I thought it would be nicer as a surprise.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I brought food and drinks because I know your leg is still recovering; I hope that’s okay.” He cupped your cheek with one hand while tilting his head slightly and kissing you softly. He was bracing himself with his other hand against the wall, “Very much okay with me.”  

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

#star trek imagine #star trek imagines #star trek x reader #star trek #james kirk imagine #james kirk imagines #james kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #james kirk #jim kirk imagines #jim kirk x reader #kirk x reader

[laddieseddiemunster]

Hiii can i request an poly lost boys x reader (the boys think she cheated on them 《the didnt btw》 and so they cheat on her and she finds out. How will they react when they find out She didn't cheat on them?

This is my first Poly, so let me know how I did. Fyi, there is no happy ending to this.

This is long by the way

You Cheated On Me? (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

Warning: angst, manipulation (sort of), slight violence, some nsfw

The boys all had a mixture of feelings going around in their heads. disappointment, sadness, but mainly anger. you had cheated on them, or so they thought.

You were originally supposed to meet them at the boardwalk, but you told them that you’d be late because you were going out with a friend. They didn’t think too much of it...at first.

It was until they accidentally saw you near the carousel with your friend. They also noticed that your friend was a guy, so instead of trusting you the boys decided to watch and see what you guys were doing.

At first, nothing happened that was out of the ordinary. You two were just talking. But then, from what they could see, things started to take a turn. Every single one of the boys could tell that whatever conversation you were having with your friend was very deep and personal. they could tell by the facial expressions both of you were making. You looked sad and concerned, and your friend looked sad and only sad. The boys tried not to stare at the two of you because there’s no way you’d cheat on them. Right?

Then all of a sudden you planted a kiss on his cheek. Now the boys were steaming. Their vampire blood was boiling inside of them. Even if it was just a kiss on the cheek, that’s enough to make them jealous. Marko was close to running up to the two of you and ripping him off of you. He kept his cool because he wanted to see how far you’d go with this. Not that Marko would ever want you to cheat, he just wanted to what would happen next just in case he’d have to throw it back in your face later on.

David was calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside he was getting pretty jealous. He wanted to rip your friend apart. Especially when he hugged you and wrapped his arms around your waist. That just made David more angry. He hates when some nobody touches what is his.

Dwayne was a bit angry, but he was more hurt. He tried to tell himself that he was just overthinking everything because he knew you’d never cheat on them. But when he saw you kiss your friend on the cheek, Dwayne was starting to think that this wasn’t just your friend.

Paul was a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel. From what he could see it looked like you were cheating on them, and that thought alone hurts his non-beating heart. He thought he could trust you, but now he’s starting to think he can’t.

During all the mixed emotions, an action from your friend made them all snap back into present time. All of a sudden he pulled you away from the hug and kissed your cheek, like you had kissed his earlier. Now each one of the boys were ready to throttle him. No one touches what’s theirs except for them. Both of Marko’s hands were now in fists, and if it wasn’t for you being there he probably would have killed him right then and there. David was now more than furious, and he started his motorcycle and drove out of the boardwalk. The rest of the boys followed him because they knew that when David starts to drive away, then they must follow unless told not to.

When the boys got to the cave, David immediately sat in his wheelchair, and the rest of the guys took a seat somewhere around him. The three of them knew David long enough to know that he was going to have a say in this situation, and it was not going to be pushed under the rug.

“She cheated on us,” David said, still in disbelief.

“Maybe she wasn’t,” Paul said trying to convince David and himself that they were wrong. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, come on!” Marko scoffed. “We saw it first hand! She cheated!”

“Why would she do that to us?” Paul asked, feeling more hurt than angry.

“She doesn’t love us like we thought she did,” It hurt Dwayne to say that, but that was the only conclusion.

“I wanna kill the guy that she was with!” Marko said kicking some dirt on the ground in frustration. “And I’m going to!”

“Should we just...break up with her?” Paul asked with slight pain in his voice.

“No,” David finally spoke. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” Dwayne asked, thinking that was the logical and right thing to do.

“We should get her back for this! She deserves to feel the pain that we are feeling right now!” David said standing up from his chair.

“What do you wanna do? Kill her?!” Paul asked hoping that he was wrong.

“No!” David quickly replied. “Let’s get revenge.”

“Revenge? What kind of revenge?” Marko asked. Even though Marko loved you, he was angry, and when he’s angry he loves some good tasty revenge.

David thought for a moment before coming up with the perfect way to get back at you. “We’ll cheat on her.”

“Cheat on her?” Dwayne asked completely lost.

“Yeah. We can get four girls up in here, and she’ll come and catch us. But then, we remind her that she cheated on us, so then she’ll be just as hurt as we are. Maybe even more,” David said completely satisfied with his plan.

“Wait a minute, David. That doesn’t sound right,” Paul said. Even though Paul was definitely a lot of crazy things, but a cheater was not one of them.

“What she did to us wasn’t right!” Marko practicality yelled. “I say she deserves this! Who knows how long she’s been cheating on us!”

“Right!” David exclaimed. “And if any of you don’t want to do it then go try to get an apology out of her! Because she obviously doesn’t love us enough! Or else none of this would’ve ever happened!”

The other boys knew that David was right. You didn’t love them, if you did you wouldn’t have cheated. Marko was up for the plan right when David suggested it. Marko wasn’t too fond of the idea of cheating on you, the thing he really wanted to do was kill your friend. No one touches what’s his and gets away with it. David was furious, but also disappointed. Even if David wasn’t always good at showing it, he loved you very much, and to see you cheating really hurt him. Paul was pretty heartbroken at this point. He’s not the kind of guy to go look for a rebound after a breakup with someone he truly loved. He just kind of tries to smoke it off. Doesn’t always work. Dwayne was still hoping that all this was a big misunderstanding, but the proof was there, and he couldn’t deny it.

The boys knew that you’d come straight to the cave after hanging out with your ‘friend’, so they had to work fast. David didn’t really care who he was going to cheat on you with, he just wanted to get revenge. So, the guys found the first four girls they saw on the beach, and hypnotized them with their mind tricks to get the girls to come back to the cave with them.

Marko wanted to get revenge, but he was more interested in killing your friend. He could feel the heat and anger building up inside him whenever he thought about your friend kissing your cheek. Nothing could satisfy Marko more than killing your friend in the most violent way possible.

Paul feelings were all a bit mixed up. He felt sad because he’s in love with you, and not this chick that he picked up from the beach. Instead of rejecting the girl, he locked his lips with hers and kissed her hard. The slight anger he had in his system struck and all of a sudden, he wanted you to feel the same way he was feeling. Paul slipped his tongue down her throat hoping you would happen to walk into the cave right that second. The girl only pulled him closer allowing Paul to massage one of her breasts. He didn’t love the girl one bit, but revenge never felt so good in that moment.

Dwayne felt like he was going to puke. He never thought in all his years that he’d been cheating on his girlfriend. He swore that he’d never do it, but look at him now. The girl he chose had her face in the crook of Dwayne’s neck leaving hickeys all over his skin, and he wasn’t rejecting her. He couldn’t deny that she was pretty, but it wasn’t you. Dwayne wanted you, but you obviously didn’t want him. The girl was basically throwing herself at him, and he wasn’t giving her any of the attention back. Dwayne was hurt, and he didn’t want this broad. The girl tried to unzip his pants, and that’s when Dwayne had just about enough of this. He grabbed her shoulder tightly and told her to stop, but she didn’t listen. She just whined and tried to unzip his pants again, and then Dwayne decided that a midnight snack sounded pretty good at the moment. So, he grabbed her by her shoulders and dug his fangs into her neck. He sucked all of her blood until she didn’t have any left, and then he took her outside the cave and left her body out in the canyons not caring at all if someone would find her.

David took the girl he chose, and went to one of the open bedrooms in the cave. The girl got completely undressed, but David decided to leave his clothes on. He didn’t really want to have sex with his girl, he just wanted you to walk in on him cheating on you. This girl threw herself at David just like the other girls did too with the other guys. David let her basically do anything she wanted. He didn’t care about her one bit. He let her make out with him, give him hickeys all over his throat and chest, and he even let her undress him so she could give him a blowjob. David didn’t give her any attention though. He barely touched her. He was angry and wanted nothing more than for you to catch him doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Marko barley even looked at the girl he chose. All he could think about was killing your friend that you ‘cheated’ on them with. The girl kept trying to kiss him and touch him and at first he let her, but after so many times Marko was sick of her. She kept pulling on his jacket too hard, and kept trying to take off his pants. Marko was about to kill her, but then he realized that she doesn’t deserve it. After all she was in a trance. So, Marko just dropped her off at the beach and ended the trance. For once, Marko let someone live, but that was because he had his eye on another target. Marko looked all over for your friend, and when he found him, Marko attacked him immediately. Luckily it wasn’t in public, so no one would see. Marko had no mercy for the guy. He did everything he could to make your friend suffer.

“You think you can touch my girl?” Marko chuckled while gripping the guys neck making his gasp for air. Tears ran down your friends face as he tried to stop Marko from choking him to death, but the grip was too strong. Marko smiled when he realized that he was successful in killing your friend, but then Marko’s smile dropped. He looked at the name tag on his victim’s work uniform. It said [insert your friends name]. That wasn’t just any friend. That was your friend that happened to be gay. You had known him for years, but you were never able to introduce him to the boys. You only told them his name.

Marko had never felt so ashamed in all his life. He basically just killed your friend for no reason, and not even that. He cheated. They all cheated. But you didn’t do anything. This was all a terrible misunderstanding, but they assumed too quickly. Marko’s heart was in his balls. He really screwed up. If the sun was out he’d let himself burn. Marko jumped on his motorcycle as quick as he could. Maybe if he could get to the boys before you did, you would never find out about this.

After seeing your friend, you waited by the beach assuming the boys would pick you up. They didn’t. You didn’t think too much of it though. After all, it could have been some miscommunication. So, you got your car and drove to the cave. You were excited to see the boys since you hadn’t seen them all day, but that changed when you walked into the cave.

The first thing you saw made your heart break. Paul was making out with some random girl on the couch. He had his hands all over her, and her top was off.

“P-Paul?!” Your voice cracked. “What are you doing?!” They both separated immediately. Paul’s face had drained all color. Even though he knew this was going to happen, he hated seeing how sad you looked.

Then you saw David walk out of one of the bedrooms with a half naked girl next to him. Your heart was shattering. Especially when you saw that David had a smile on his face.

“You’ve arrived, y/n” David said with a smirk.

Tears were starting to cover your vision. Paul and David were cheating on you?!

“Baby! Wait it’s not what it looks like!” Paul said regretting this whole revenge idea. He tried to hug you, but you shoved him away.

“No! Don’t touch me!” Tears were now escaping your eyes. Paul hated seeing you cry. Especially when he was the one making you sad. Dwayne grabbed you and held you. He knew that he was in the wrong as well, but he couldn’t stand to see you so broken. You accepted Dwayne’s hug until you noticed some dark purple hickeys on his neck, and you did not make those.

“Get away from me!” You yelled at Dwayne pushing him away from you. “Why are you all doing this?! I thought you loved me!”

“Well we thought you loved us!” David yelled no longer having a smile on his face.

Marko got to the cave and jumped off of his bike. “David! We have a real problem here!” Marko was about to continue, but then he realized he was too late. You were already there, and he knew that you were never going to forgive them.

“Did you do it too?” You asked Marko with a whimper. Marko couldn’t look at you. He couldn’t believe that they could make such a mistake.

“Y/n, don’t act like you didn’t cheat on us!” David yelled scaring Marko’s pigeons.

“David stop! She didn’t cheat on us!” Marko yelled feeling more and more like a dick.

“What do you mean?” Dwayne asked hoping that this was all just a bad dream.

“Her friend that she was with earlier. The one that I went to hunt. That was [insert friends name].” All the boys hearts sunk. They knew that your friend was gay, but they didn’t know that was him. David was no longer angry with you, he was now angry at himself. This was his plan after all, and you hadn’t done anything wrong. He yelled at the two other girls and told them to leave, he couldn’t believe what was happening. Paul felt like staking himself. His heart shattered along with yours. Dwayne couldn’t believe what was happening, and he had no one to blame but himself.

“What?!” You shouted at Marko. “You killed my friend?!” Marko didn’t answer. You walked up to him and slapped him across the face as hard as you could calling him every name in the book. Calling all of them every name in the book. Marko didn’t move. He felt like he deserved it.

“Y/n...we didn’t know,” David said trying to calm you down. “We thought-”

“You all thought I cheated?!” You bellowed. “He told me his dad had just passed away! And I hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek to comfort him! And he gave me a kiss on the cheek as a thank you for always being there for him!” That explanation just made the boys feel worse. They should’ve just asked you what happened, but they didn’t do that.

“We’re sorry!” Paul said. “We-We didn’t know!”

By this point you were sobbing. “‘Sorry’ isn’t going to work this time!”

You wanted to punch all of them and scream until you lost your voice, but you felt so broken that you could barely stand up straight.

“I never want to see any of you again! This is over!” And with that you ran out of the cave. None of the boys ran after you. They felt too ashamed to even talk. You deserved better than them. No matter how much they wanted to get on their knees and beg for forgiveness, they all knew that it was hopeless. They broke your heart into a million pieces, and they weren’t going to be able to get you back.

#the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys 1987 #frog brothers #the lost boys star #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys

[dandylion240]

Part 2 @izayoichan

[ 💍 ] does your muse have a “type” of people that they prefer to enter relationships with? is their type generally compatible with them, or does the dynamic tend to be toxic?

Jayden has only ever been in a relationship with Evan. Evan is such a caring and empathetic person that Jayden felt instantly drawn to him. He didn't feel the pressure to put on a show to impress him. He could be himself. Unfortunately early in their relationship Jayden took Evan's easy going nature for granted. He ignored Evan's needs until Evan felt invisible. However Jayden really did love Evan and put forth the effort to become a better person.

[ 🏆 ] is your muse multitalented? what are their hobbies, and why did they pick up these hobbies? if they don’t have hobbies, why don’t they?

From a young age Jayden was always drawn to the arts. He can play most instruments although he lacks the drive to be really great at it. He has a good singing voice. He can paint to and was really good at it too. What he really enjoyed was sports, especially track. There's nothing like getting up early and going for a run. However since his accident he's not able to be that physically active anymore. For a while he drifted uninspired to do anything. However that's changed since they've adopted Ryan. He's picked up a paint brush for the first time in ten years and the old feeling of doing something that fills him with purpose is burning inside him again.

[ 🐱 ] does your muse have pets? did they have pets as a child? how do they feel about animals?

He didn't have pets as a child. His parents thought their house was full enough with kids, which was true, afterall Jayden is the oldest of six. He wasn't much of a pet person but due to his depression and physical disabilities his therapist suggested he get a service dog. When they went to pick up Shadow from the shelter Josie fell in love with Pockets, a tiny black kitten who followed Shadow around. Needless to say they couldn't tell her no so they brought home a kitten and a service dog, which eventually turns in Jayden's familiar so they'll be together forever.

[ ❌ ] is there something your muse struggles with that they might never overcome? what is it? why do they have so much trouble with it?

Jayden struggles with his phyiscal limitations and needing to be in a wheelchair 80% of the time. He slips into depression where he sometimes feels as if his family would be better off without him.

[ ✨ ] what aesthetics or symbols do you reference when writing your muse? are these backed up by canon, if your muse comes from a canon? is there any specific relevance to these choices?

I'm not as okay as a I pretend to be.

#jayden reagan #ts4 #character development

[magsthemagnanimous]

Boy it’s been a while since I’ve written a Levihan fanfic (or any fanfic in general) so this is a little shitty. But here goes nothing.

And They Lived

Summary: Against all odds, despite the seemingly unending chaos, Hange Zoe, the fourteenth commander of the Survey Corps, survived. It wasn't long until she found herself living the life she thought she would never have – with one specific person, at one specific place, three years after the war ended.

Mornings never usually thrilled Hange, but as she continuously strolled through the woods, her footsteps leaving little crackles as dried leaves crumbled under her boots, she felt peace she hadn’t had in a long, long time.

The light from the early morning sun filtered through the trees, the air was crisp and fresh and it felt good when it brushed against her skin. When she looked around she could see wildflowers growing in every direction. The entire forest seemed to be a place full of vigor and life – and even hope, and it’s as if it was never a witness to the war that happened almost three years ago, which rendered the world almost completely uninhabitable for the remaining twenty percent of humanity who survived.

Thinking about the war, and even the years before that was almost too much to bear, Hange thought. She lost friends, comrades, family, and if she was being honest with herself she thought it almost possible for her to die, too. She had accepted her fate, resigned to her own death the minute she heard the colossal titans’ footsteps shaking the ground as they walked closer and closer to where she and the alliance were standing in.

But even amidst the chaos and the impossibility of it all, she survived. And to go on living and to finally live the life she wasn’t able to have, it was all that remained for her to accomplish.

Hange took a deep breath and continued her stroll, getting nearer to her destination – her home for the last two years. The basket she had on her hands was heavy but she figured that if she bought more goods from the market today, then she wouldn’t have to go back for the next five days or so, as going to the nearest district to buy necessities was too much of a hassle to do every other day, anyway.

It wasn’t long until she reached the little cottage she called home, and even before she reached it she could already see someone stirring inside from beneath the windows the cottage offered.

He’s awake. She’s kind of hoping he saw her note that she has gone out to the market that morning, as she did leave before the sun was up. He was still sleeping soundly – a rare occurrence, given his state – so she didn’t feel the need to wake him up.

Hange sped up her pace and soon enough she was inside the cottage already, dragging her heavy basket effortlessly and beaming at the face that greeted her when she entered.

“Good morning, Levi! Did you sleep well?” she greeted. Hange walked towards the kitchen counter and dropped the goods she had bought. A variety of vegetables, fruits, meat, and bread tumbled on the table.

“You were gone long, Shitty Glasses,” was Levi’s blunt reply. He rolled his wheelchair across the kitchen, getting to where Hange was messily stacking the foods she had bought. Levi clicked his tongue at the way she was keeping the fruits from falling over the pantry but was miserably failing. “The way you’re going at it, these fruits wouldn’t even last until tomorrow. They’ve got bruises all over thanks to you.” He bent forward and grabbed the oranges which were splayed on the floor, groaning as he did so.

Hange quickly stopped him and grabbed the fruits from his arms. “Don’t bother yourself with this, I can do it on my own. Chill over there, okay?” she pointed to the table. “Have you had breakfast?”

“I am not a child for you to fuss over, Hange.”

She grinned. “I would take that as a no. What do you want, tiny captain?”

Levi stared at her for a moment with a scowl on his face, but after a few seconds he turned his head to the side and pouted. “Fine. Just some bread and eggs. That is, if we have them.”

Hange smiled at him and went on to do the task. She cut a few slices of the bread she had bought, and put them on the pan to toast a little, doing the eggs next. She then prepared some black tea and poured it onto Levi’s favorite cup, the chipped, old thing she had saved from when she visited the headquarters – or rather what’s left of it – after her recovery.

Placing the plates and the cup onto the table, Hange noticed that Levi had busied himself with reading the newspaper she had bought as well from the market. Across the page she could see Her Majesty’s smiling face, along with her toddler and the nameless farmer who fathered her child.

“It says here that the brats have been appointed as diplomats, ambassadors of sorts, for peace talks between the outside world and Paradis,” Levi declared, then took a sip of his tea. His right eye flickered towards Hange to gauge her reaction to his words, then looked back at the paper before him.

Hange hummed. “I should say I’m not in the least bit surprised. They saved the world, after all. If there’s anyone who could broker peace between the Eldians and the world it is them,”

“And you,” Levi fixed her on his gaze.

She looked straight into him in return. “You more than me,” Hange said. “But it’s not our fight, not anymore. I wanted to, you know. To be among those people to put this world back into one piece, but I’m afraid the world would never listen to a useless commander,” she huffed out a chuckle at that.

Levi frowned, his brows furrowed at her words. “You did what you can. Stop saying you were a useless commander, Hange.” He sighed, he didn’t want to go over this matter again. He’s grown tired of it. “Do you think it’s wise to leave the fate of Paradis to the brats’ hands? Are they matured enough to handle it?”

Hange gave him a teasing smile. “You sound like a worried grandpa,”

He scowled at that. “It’s going to be a difficult task, especially after all they’ve been through.” For a moment, there was a look of longing on his face, like he was lost in the memories of smoke, blood, and tears, but it was gone before Hange noticed it. Levi spoke again. “They need you there, Hange.”

Hange had to look down at that. When she looked up, she saw Levi carefully analyzing her next reaction. She adjusted her glasses, checked if her eye patch was still in place, and then softly smiled. “But you need me more.”

Two years living in this forest had sure enough afforded Levi all the time in the world to heal and recover.

But he had to admit it to himself, he’s never the same as before. He had been in the goddamned wheelchair for basically three years, with only one eye working, and a constantly weakened bodily state. But even if he seemed paralyzed and most decidedly living like a broken man, he can swear he had never felt this peaceful in his life. Not even during his time as soldier, not even when he was a kid underground.

As he wheeled himself across the woods, carefully following the trails all too familiar in his mind, Levi thought back of the conversation he had with Hange earlier that morning. He had lost count of the number of times he’d spoken about her being an asset with peace negotiations with nations outside Paradis. He never thought Hange would step out like she did, leaving her post as commander and entrusting the Corps and the negotiations to Armin, being a person keen to her responsibilities as she had always been.

But she chose to stay with him, to care for him, for reasons he didn’t fathom why.

Levi dimly remembered that fateful day in Odiha, when he’d thought her already dead. Even if he didn’t look out the window to see it for himself, he could tell exactly that what he’d been dreading has happened, based on the looks of Armin, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean, and they’d declared that Hange fell onto the ground, already looking unconscious. The titans were fast approaching, but their plane won’t start just yet. Fortunately, Hange was able to take down one colossal titan, and this bought them much time as the other titans tumbled over one another.

Suddenly, when the engines of the plane started to roar and the Alliance prepared to leave, Armin cried out loud, and they saw Hange limping towards them, her brown hair and almost half her body burnt and smoking. They hurriedly took her in, and they left Odiha just mere moments before the titans were upon them.

The rest, of course, was history.

A year after the war ended and she was recovered enough, Hange renounced her title as commander and travelled back to Paradis with a severely injured Levi. She had a cottage built for them right in the middle of the forest where she’d sown his wounds all those years ago, fulfilling a wish – which, now that he thought about it, seemed more like a promise than mere wishful thinking.

This time around though, they wouldn’t need to run and hide. Not anymore.

Levi’s train of thoughts was interrupted when he’d realized where he’s at. He’s come upon a wide clearing, and from a distance he could see lots of and lots of wildflowers and herbs which grew in the area, some he’d seen, and some new to his eye. He wandered around and decided to pick up one specific flower which he hadn’t chanced upon seeing before.

He wheeled himself back to their cottage not long after, following the trails he’d set.

When he came back, Levi found Hange sitting in front of her desk at her makeshift study, scribbling something. Ever since they settled in, Hange had been writing this book, a compilation of her researches on the botany of Paradis, which she hoped would be published someday.

Hange looked up from her work when she noticed Levi at the doorway. She adjusted her glasses, which were already dangling at the tip of her nose. “How was the stroll?” she bluntly asked, then continued scribbling again.

Levi didn’t answer. Instead, he wheeled his way to where Hange was sitting, and dropped the flower he’d picked from the clearing. He wasn’t sure if she’d seen it before, but any help he could offer with her research had been accepted by Hange. Wholeheartedly, even.

This one was no different.

“Where did you find this? I haven’t seen one like this before.” Hange beamed as she brought the red, almost pinkish flower close to her face, carefully investigating, curiosity marred on her brown eye.

“In the clearing, probably thirty yards away from here.” Levi continued gazing at her. She was like a kid beaming at another new find, and somehow seeing Hange like this brought him back to the old times. “You sure it’s something new?”

“Yeah, but I’d need to take a closer look. It might be from an already existing species, but it has a different look to it. The pigmentation and structure, though, are quite the same. I think I’d like to visit the place where you got this to see the kind of environment it grows in to prove my theory right, but that’s a task for tomorrow as it is getting quite dark, after all.” Hange smiled at him, and he felt how genuine it is. “Thank you, Levi. Do you need help with anything? Do you need a glass of water? You must be tired from your stroll.”

“There’s no need for you to bother yourself, Hange. I got it.” was Levi’s only reply.

The stars were beautiful that night, Hange concluded, as she continuously gazed at the dark skies out through the window of her study. The wind was cold to the touch, and she wrapped her arms around her own body when a sudden chilly breeze fanned her way. She continuously marvelled at the sight before her, her research book long forgotten. On her desk, a quill pen rested on a parchment paper, and the candle which lighted the room already half-melted, its fire threatening to die out.

It wasn’t long after she decided to call it a night, though, no matter how beautiful the stars were, she was tired. Hange stacked the papers on her desk, neatly arranging them, then went out of her study. Before making her way to her own bedroom, she made sure that all the doors that would lead out were locked, as there’d been reports of burglars lately, and she wouldn’t risk waking up with all their belongings gone.

When she was sure everything was already in place, Hange made for her bedroom, but she couldn’t help but notice that the door to Levi’s room was slightly ajar, and she attempted to close it.

It was then, though, when she’d heard Levi groaning and muttering softly. Hange was hesitant at first but she pushed the door open, only to see Levi, seemingly sleeping, but he was stirring aggressively on the bed. At the sight, Hange hurriedly went inside the room and went to his side. “Levi,” she yanked him.

He continuously groaned, and Hange was almost hit when he pushed his fists forward.

“Levi, wake up, you’re having a nightmare!” she desperately called out to him, eager to ease whatever unpleasant memories have gotten into his sleep.

At the sound of her voice, Levi’s eye opened, grey meeting brown against the darkness of the room. Levi panted heavily, and sweat matted his forehead.

“I’m here, don’t worry. We’re safe, they’re gone,” Hange reached out and hesitantly cupped his face between her hands. She didn’t know what his nightmare was about or who this time, but she understood. It wasn’t the first time it happened, anyway. Over the last two years she’d often hear Levi screaming in his sleep, and she’d scramble out of her own bed and go to wake him up and comfort him. She always did.

It took a while for Levi to calm down, but he eventually did. He pushed himself up to sit on the bed and Hange waited until he’s settled. He tried to avoid her gaze, choosing instead to simply look at the wall. Moments later, he spoke. “I’m sorry,”

“What for?”

“For waking you,”

Hange had to chuckle at that. “You didn’t. I was just about to sleep, got caught up in the flower you brought me today.” She tried to look into his eye, to search through him, but he was purposefully avoiding her gaze, now looking down on his own lap, as if guilty of her coming to rescue him from his nightmare, again.

She sighed. “I have them too, you know,”

That caused Levi to look up. “What are they about?”

“It’s always the same one. That day in Odiha when I almost died. I saw flames, and I can still feel them against my body. It’s as if I was reliving the moment, whenever I dream about it,” Hange shifted on her seat. Her right hand flew to touch her left arm, feeling the uneven skin there which was the effect of the burns she suffered. “And then the next thing I know, I’d fall onto the ground and when I opened my eyes I’d see our fallen comrades looking at me, as if they were disappointed at my actions being the commander.”

Levi gritted his teeth at that. “If anything, they’d be looking at you with pride, not disappointment, in my opinion.” He tried to reach his hand out and lay it over her hand, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. “Hange, you have to stop feeling guilty for the actions you took when you were the commander. You did everything you believed was right. And at the time, no one, not even Erwin, could have led a charge against a world which was all new to us. You don’t give enough credit to yourself when you should.”

Hange smiled bitterly at his words. “I know… I just… think things could have turned out differently, you know. The rumbling couldn’t have happened, we would’ve saved all those lives. If only I had a decent plan. If only we got a hold of Eren, then things would –“

“Stop it, Hange.” Levi muttered. “I want you to promise me you’d stop feeling guilty anymore. None of it was entirely your fault, it was just the cards we’ve been dealt with and we played them according to how we believed they should be treated.” He displayed a knowing look. “I think the reason why you don’t want to be involved with peace negotiations is because you still think you aren’t capable. You still lacked the confidence. But bear in mind that none of us would still be alive if it weren’t for you forming the alliance and buying us time from those titans that day. So please, Hange, please.” He sighed. “Promise me,”

“I do think that has been the longest speech you’ve ever said to me, Levi,” Hange laughed, then her face grew serious. She contemplated his words, there was already a part of her that wanted to believe every word he’d said, but it would take time for her to fully accept. She still appreciated it though, what he was doing. She reached out to place her hand above his own. “I cannot promise anything, Levi. But… I will try.”

Levi nodded at her, resigning completely.

“What about you, what are your nightmares about?”

He was hesitant at first, but he squinted and started to speak. “Not being able to kill Zeke. It was always about the many fights we had together, but mostly on the one during the rumbling. Sometimes it’s about those many expeditions beyond the walls that we had before.” Levi let out a breath. “It’s a mix, really.”

“I see,” she hummed. “I still hope one day those nightmares would not hunt our sleep anymore. Anyone could wish. But I’ve started to think that they’re part of us already.”

“I’m afraid that’s true.”

Hange started to get up. “Well it’s getting pretty late, and we’ve got a big day tomorrow. Onyankopon had mentioned that they’d be paying us a visit, together with Armin, Jean, and Connie, and I don’t know who else, and we’d better look like we’ve been getting decent rest here, lest they insist for us to take residence in one of the districts.” She chuckled at that. “I’d rather the two of us just stay here.” Hange turned her back to leave. “Good night, Levi.”

“Hange,”

She looked over her shoulder and eyed him, carefully analyzing his face. “Yes?”

“Stay,”

Hange took a deep breath, then slowly turned to face him once again. It was one word, just one word she’d spent the last two years waiting for him to say.

She’d be damned if she said no to what he wanted.

#hanji zoe #hange zoe #levihan #levi ackerman #levihan fanfiction #levi x hanji #levihan fanfic #BEAR WITH ME #levihan canon