#but i’m sitting here crying because i miss my dad who died four years ago and i read this anon and i’m like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

letarasstuff · 3 years

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Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x reader #reader insert

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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

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Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU; slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

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#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland reader insert #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #dad!tom #my writing

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dazenightmare · 3 years

Note

Please give us the a n g s t

I will. Keep in mind I’ve only seen one custody battle when I was really young, and even then I wasn’t really involved with it, so sorry if this seems really inaccurate, but then again when has anything this fandom been accurate?? Anyways.

One day while restocking shelves, Tubbo runs into his aunt that lives across the country. Of course, this makes him very happy at first because she was his dead mother’s sister, and he hadn’t heard from her in years. During his lunch break they head over to the sandwich shop to catch up, and the staff there don’t try and interact too much because even they can tell this is important

About twenty minutes in his aunt asks where they live because she tried visiting but somebody else lived in their house now. Then Tubbo’s like “what? You don’t know?” And proceeds to tell her that his parents died years ago, and how he just thought she couldn’t make it to the funeral and wasn’t able to take him in. Turns out nobody told his aunt about it, and the only people who were able to contact her died

This of course upsets her even more than if his parents just chose to ignore her calls and messages, and asks who was watching over him now, seeming a bit more upset when he told her his blood father. Between one moment and the next, his aunt was now close to crying and talking very loudly about how she should’ve been called and how she could’ve taken him in, and Tubbo’s just trying to reassure her as the staff of the sandwich shop watch in concern. Eventually she says “don’t worry, I’ll fix this” before leaving, confusing Tubbo very much and Charlie and Ted wish they got at least Tommy’s number as they watch Tubbo just sit there a bit dazed and also close to tears

Charlie helps him back to the grocery store and all of the staff notice something doesn’t seem right with Tubbo as he just skates around aimlessly, stuck in his own thoughts

About a week later at the house, Philza gets a call and nobody really thinks anything of it until they hear Philza’s voice slowly raise in volume and how anger seemed to seep into him. Nobody really can make out anything he’s saying until he shouts “HE’S HAPPY HERE! I’M SORRY MISS, BUT IT’S NOT HAPPENING. GOOD DAY.” And he hangs up. Everyone else is confused, but Tubbo feels the pieces click into place as Philza’s gaze lingers on him a bit too long at dinner

Another week passes before Philza and Mumza are angrily whispering to each other one night in the kitchen, with all four of the sons watching quietly outside the door. Tubbo feels his heart sink as he watches them look through a packet of legal documents and papers and whisper his aunt’s name. He quietly races back up the stairs, unaware of how his brothers watch him. He hides under his bed until morning

It’s later in the day when Philza pulls him aside and asks him some questions about his aunt, and after getting through that informs him about the custody situation and how they might have to go to court. Tubbo doesn’t cry. He doesn’t know why he would, because there’s no reason to, right??

They manage to keep the other three in the dark for a while before Philza tells them over dinner one day, and all of their expressions become scared. Nobody’s surprised how Tommy holds Tubbo after dinner, the other two joining in on the cuddle pile later on

The staff at the grocery store notice the way SBI are fidgety, how Philza seems tired and the boys are constantly close to tears. Meanwhile Tubbo seems distant, not really processing anything. It’s not until Philza tells Tubbo that they were going to court that Tubbo finally breaks down, whispering into his talkie a faint “B-Breakdown Budd-y..?” On top of the freezers before sobbing as Ranboo shows up and tries his best to help

When they do go to court they seem stiff. Techno, Wilbur and Tommy weren’t allowed to go on the first and second day, and nobody but those three would know how they did nothing but cry and nervously wait for them to get back. The rest of the days they do go, if only to vouch that Tubbo was happy and healthy with them and silently pleading they’d let Tubbo stay.

About a month in, they let Tubbo stay with his aunt across the country for a week or two, just to see how well his aunt would take care of him before deciding Tubbo’s fate. Tubbo cries and clings to Tommy for as long as he can before he’s forced into a car and can only watch with teary eyes as the house and his family get farther and farther away

It’s only then that the staff at the store are informed of what’s happening, and they’re all really sad and scared because Tubbo might be forced to move a country away from them, and their chaos suddenly decreases which worries the customers

Meanwhile during Tubbo’s stay at his aunt’s, she tries very hard to make him happy, but notices how he’s distant and sad and doesn’t really leave the house unless she makes him. He doesn’t even wear his rollerblades around the house like he used to when he was little

She of course makes him sit down and asks what’s wrong. Tubbo doesn’t even look up at her as his eyes water for the millionth time since he got there, saying quietly “this isn’t L’manburg. This isn’t the SMP. This isn’t my house on H’ardcorr Road. You’re not my mother or father. You’re not my dad or mum. You’re not Technoblade. You’re not Wilbur. You’re not Tommy. You are my aunt who lives miles away, who I haven’t spoken to in years. This is a town which isn’t my home. You are a person who isn’t my home.”

“I want to go home.”

That’s when his aunt looks back on all this time, and really thinks about actions or expressions she had written off or thought was something different. She hadn’t seen Tubbo happy since she first arrived. But it wasn’t because of the family who took him in like she assumed. It was because she was going to take him away from them. Suddenly she sees why Philza and Mumza glare at her, sees why their sons can’t look at her face for too long before almost crying, sees why Tubbo seems so distant, and hesitant to really choose a side in it all

When they go back to L’manburg, she gives up on the case. Tells the court that she doesn’t think she’s ready to take in a child like she thought she was. Smiles over at the shocked parents on the other side as she says Tubbo was already happy where he was. They decide to leave everything as it was legally and financially, and she leaves after that session with a hug to Tubbo and a promise to call soon

When they get back home, it’s obvious the other three are happy to see him, but also are scared out of their minds. When Philza tells them that Tubbo’s aunt dropped the case and that Tubbo was staying they just hug Tubbo and cry a lot, and I mean a lot and stay cuddled on the couch. When they tell the rest of staff the next day they also are very happy and are just hugging him while crying to the point they need to close the store

The customers are relieved when the store opens again the next day and everything is back to normal. Or mostly normal, anyways

#asks #store au #tubbo #tubbo_#tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza minecraft #philza #technoblade #ranboo #long post

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 10- These Are Strange Times

Summary: Could something positive be truly on the horizon? With the random intrusion of though-to-be-dead Scott Lang at the Avengers Facility, your hope for seeing Bucky again may have yet to be a possibility.

Warning: yeah nothing enjoy the ride

Masterlist

-Five years since the Blip-

Throwing on a dark sleeveless top, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to sneeze which evidently causes your little furry companion to startle at the unexpected noise. The furry tigress lets out a meow of protest that pulls forth a humored snicker from you, while the little beast sends you an annoyed look.

Recovering her bearings in a flash, she walks across the short wooden dresser like a model strutting on the runway, her thick mane of mahogany and dark chocolate fur glossy and adequately brushed to perfection, just how your spoiled Main Coon, Silver, likes it.

She purrs happily as she begins playing with Bucky’s dog tags that lay across the small dresser top.

“What are you do..? Oh give me that you little shit.” Silver ignores you until she’s rudely lifted and placed firmly on the carpeted floor before you snatch up the valuable memorabilia. Placing it around your neck where it belongs then glancing down to give her a casual shrug, “Don’t give me that look Silv, I bought you a cool bird feathered cat toy like three days ago. What happened to that?” Silver meows, running her head against your worn out old boots as you smile, “Guess it’s as good as dead huh, you little beast. Now you staying or coming with me to find Nat?” Nothing but purrs of affection.

You lean down to gently rub her head before standing up fully and heading for the door, Silver hot on your heels. Soon you’re both traveling down the hallway until you finally reach the large study. Natasha’s on a conference call with Carol, Rodney, Okoye, and the last two guardians of the galaxy, Rocket and Nebula. And by the looks of it, nothing new has been reported. How disappointing.

Soon they all log off, leaving Natasha alone with Rodney who stays to give Nat a little insight into Barton’s violent whereabouts from the last couple years since he’s been rouge. Apparently he took out a whole cartel in Mexico, so he’s been busy. Definitely not keeping up with those group therapy sessions Steve makes you go to to help cope with the loss. Not that you’ve actually been that consistent with them if we’re being real here.

Quickly enough, Rodney logs out, leaving a tearfully conflicted Natasha as she slouches in her comfy swivel chair. Head in her hands as she holds back the waterfall that threatens to spill within her. You take a step forward, leaning casually against a steel rimmed display area for random nick-nacks. “I’d join you in the fun, but I’m limiting my crying sessions between 1 and 2 in the morning on Tuesdays. So, uh....I brought Silver.” You smile, pointing a finger down to your loyal companion, “Well I guess she brought herself but you know.”

Natasha breaks out into a reluctant grin, genuinely happy to have a bit of positive company within her gloom, “And you didn’t even want her to begin with.” Laughs the red head, “Now I never see one without the other.”

You nod with an almost shy smile, “Yeah, she’s alright.”

You hear soft movement making its way through the hallway behind you just as Silver meows when Steve casually saunters into the room, coming to stand next to your side as the furry beast paws at his shoes, “What are you here for? Doing some laundry?” You tease at the tall blonde.

Steve smiles at your little jab since he’s not usually always present, doing Captain America stuff and whatnot, “Just here to see some friends.”

Natasha chuckles through glossy eyes, “Well clearly your friends are doing just fine.” Steve knowingly nods paired with a small smile, both you and Natasha look relatively well kept and functional as usual. It’s just, there’s a palpable pain and hidden darkness that always appears to simmer lowly on the surface. Just enough for a skilled eye like Steve’s to notice.

“Exactly.” You add, wandering over to sit cross legged on Natasha’s desk as Steve moves to lean against the display, “But if you’re here to tell us to look on the bright side...”

“I’m gonna hit you in the head with this peanut butter sandwich.” Finishes Natasha with a pursued lipped grin as the 90 year old nods. “Um, right. Force of habit.” Admits Steve, pushing himself off the surface to find a seat next to you and directly across from Natasha.

The three of you keep to a mutual silence for a long moment until he finally speaks, “You know,” Starts Steve thoughtfully, “I keep telling everybody they should move on...and grow. Some do.” He pauses for a moment as you frown, Natasha looking elsewhere as Steve finally continues, “But not us.”

She shakes her head, “If we move on, who does this?”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be done.” Suggests Steve, he means well of course, but maybe he’s right after all, its been five fucking years with absolutely nothing to make for it. Nothing of any significant progress or even a possible way to fix what's happened.

Natasha blinks through bleary eyes of saddened green while you pet Silver’s furry mane, refusing to give in to that notion, “No.” You whisper softly, causing them to look at you, “We can’t, it wouldn’t be right...at least,” You let out a gentle sigh, “at least not for me....before all of this, before I met all of you. I had nothing.” You admit thoughtfully, “Not a soul in the world who gave a damn whether I lived or died. Then I found Bucky, then I found this. This.....family. And because of it, I’m better off now then I was ten years ago.”

They keep a respectful silence as your breaths become shaky, teary eyes now trained onto Silver’s little ears, “And I know they’re gone now, believe me I fucking know it, but I’m still trying to be better.” Natasha nods in deep understanding, a couple stray tears falling down her cheeks as Steve crosses his arms.

“I think we all need to get a life.” He muses, his tone light as he tries to pull you two back from the edge of grief. You give him a friendly nudge at his annoying brotherliness, “You first.” He chuckles as you throw him a playful glare while Natasha checks an incoming call.

“Oh, hi! Hello! Is anyone home?” Speaks a man frantically from one of the security cameras, an orange van behind him, “This is, uh, Scott Lang. We met a few years ago at the airport.....in Germany?” Now you’ve got his attention.

“What the fuck?” You mutter in bewilderment at the blue tinged image of Scott as Steve and Nat share a confused glance, the three of you quickly rising to your feet while Scott keeps talking about who he is, how he got here, and what he’s learned about the world so far.

“Is this an old message?” Wonders Steve as he studies the image of Scott who’s still waving his hands up at the security camera.

“It’s the front gate.” Replies Natasha with a hopeful smile.

——

All you came here to do was shoot the shit with Natasha and maybe make some actual dinner, but here you are, laying across the study’s plush couch as Scott rambles on and on about the quantum realm. Whatever that happens to actually be, you’ve never heard of anything like that before, but then again you didn’t know aliens existed at one point. So perhaps anything's possible.

Silver brushes her fluffy head across your fingers as they dangle over the couches edge while Scott keeps at his long-winded tellings of how he got there, what it was like, that he’s been technically gone for only five hours, and now he thinks there’s a way to enter this new plane of existence and travel to a fresh alternate reality. Like through a time machine type deal, or whatever he’s on about.

Apparently he means one before Thanos. But it honestly sounds like a load of horseshit and gibberish coming from a desperate man refusing to acknowledge that this is the new shit reality. There’s no fucking way that’s even goddamn possible, right? No way.

Maybe?

Drifting back out of your doubtful thoughts, you swiftly move yourself into a seated position as Scott begins to self doubt. Head lowering as he mumbles about how crazy that it. You start chuckling as he throws you an almost embarrassed look. “Scott.” You speak to gather his attention, “Nat gets emails from a raccoon. Your idea is admittedly a bit nuts, but nothings that crazy anymore considering all the wild shit I’ve witnessed in the past six years. So I don’t know, maybe there’s a way.”

Scott flashes a hopeful smile as his brows furrow in thought, uncertainty seeping right back into him, “So, uh...who do we talk to about this?”

——

“Stark! Miss us?” You shout at Tony as he holds Morgan in his left arm, an Ironman helmet grasped firmly in the right. He gives the four of you a less then enthusiastic nod of acknowledgment before wordlessly turning around and taking a step up onto the wooden porch.

You give Steve a shrug, “He misses us I can tell.”

Soon Tony let’s Morgan go off to play with you as you opt in to be the babysitter slash distraction from the grownups who are currently discussing if time travel and gathering the stones for ourselves is even a possibility, or even a palpable option that can be done. You skillfully listen to everything they’re saying as the little Stark shows off her array of multiple plant-life assortments picked from the local greenery.

“So I got this cone from that tree over there and then I put a frog in a glass but dad said I had to let him go so I did.” Babbles on the five year old as you entertain her constant musings.

You raise a brow, knowing her shenanigans all too well, “Is he in the garden?”

She mischievously smirks, sneakily peaking over at Tony who’s seated up on the porch, before giving you a nod, “Yeah. I made him a little house from some flat rocks I found too. I named him Froggo.”

You chuckle, “Oh really, Froggo? I like it, has a nice ring to it.” She nods in delight before walking into her tiny tent to retrieve something new as you catch either Scott or Steve saying something about a time heist, what the hell are they going on about now?

“Y/N! Look at this!” Calls Morgan excitedly while bursting out of the tent to run on short legs over to you who’s seated comfortably in the grass, “I got a cool rock from the lake but I didn’t get to show you last time cause you left early.”

Raising your brows in surprise, though you don’t exactly feel as thrilled as she is, you make sure she knows you care, “Woah! A cool rock from the lake, why Morgan I gotta see this.”

“Look.” She hands you a dull grey rock with a tiny fossil shell indentation on it, “It’s from the dinosaurs.”

Examining the small round object, you nod, “Next thing you know I’ll come back to a whole dinosaur excavation site. Impressive Professor Grant, I’m thoroughly amazed.”

She giggles in excitement, “Y/N I know what that means now.” You give her an inquiring look as she smiles proudly, “That’s from Jurassic Park.”

“And your dad let you watch that, with the big Trex eating the goat and everything?” You tease before handing her the prized object, “Next thing I know you’re going to have a whole dinosaur skeleton in your house.”

“Yeah that would be cool. Thanks ninja turtle.” Cackles Morgan as she hugs her rock, smiling brightly as you throw her a puzzled look before joining in on the laughter. “Okay, now you’ve lost me kid, I can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about.”

She shrugs innocently, “Dad told me to call you that.” Clearly not understanding what she just called you either. A ninja turtle? The fuck is a ninja turtle?

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You muse before looking up to the four of them getting closer to a heated discussion, “Alright Morgs let’s go save your dad before he decides never to invite us back for dinner again.” You add, quickly rising to your feet as she laughs before racing past you, on a beeline for Tony.

You choose to stay out of the conversation and instead wait for Steve, Natasha, and Scott to start walking back towards the car. You lean against the metal as Steve round the corner before catching your eye as he goes down the three steps, “Are we banished from the castle? I was kinda hoping not cause I actually like Pepper’s cooking.”

Steve smiles, “No. He’s not gonna help us is all.”

“Damn that’s shitty.” You retort with a tinge of genuine disappointment, you don’t completely believe this shit is even possible. But dammit if you don’t want them to at least try for all it’s worth. “So what now? I’m guessing you bastards aren’t gonna let this go anytime soon. And cause Tony’s out for the count, we obviously need some different brain power.”

Steve nods while walking closer to the car, “We wanna do this right. So, yeah, we’re gonna need a really big brain.”

Scott turns from Steve to point a thumb in Tony’s general direction, face a mask of confused puzzlement, “Bigger then his?”

After a less then pleasant adventure to some cozy little diner in New Jersey where the four of you were subjected to Banner in his weird Hulkness body or whatever the hell he is now. Turns out he was most definitely on board for this time traveling experimentation. Of course he was, the weirdo takes fucking selfies with children nowadays.

So here you five are now, in the giant glass and metal garage of the Avengers Facility getting things ready for whatever nonsense is about to take place next. The back of Scott’s orange van closed for the moment, keeping hidden some reactor core thing behind its doors. Scott in some safety quantum realm suit while Banner and Natasha stand behind a large intricate assembly of high tech equipment in preparation for the events to hopefully follow.

You keep an amused yet genuinely curious stance off to the side as Bruce gives you a thumbs up, nodding, you face Scott who’s walking over to the van. “Okay, here we go. Time travel test number one everybody! Scott get that bitch open!” You shout with a small bout of rare enthusiasm while he opens up the doors.

“Emergency generators are on standby.” Announces Steve as he walks into view from behind some large plastic containers covered in safety rope.

Banner nods, “Good, because if we blow the grid, I don’t wanna lose, uh..” He points a green thumb at Scott who’s getting his helmet ready, “Tiny here in the 1950’s.”

Scott’s head snaps up in an instant, “Excuse me?” He worries.

Natasha smiles while looking down at her touch pad, “He’s kidding.” She sing songs before shaking her head up at Banner, “You can’t say things like that.”

Banner turns around to face a fearful Scott as you snort at the small bout of humor that you did happen to find rather amusing. Then again, you’re not the labs guinea pig, so instead you casually shrug while giving Scott a half persuasive grin and a thumbs up of reassurance, “Bad joke.” You add as Bruce nervously laughs, “Yeah, it was a bad joke.”

Scott nods apprehensively before turning to walk over to the reactor, appearing to believe the two of you, “You were kidding, right?” Asks Natasha as you raise a brow at Bruce in question. Albeit a smidge doubtful he actually one-hundred percent knows what he’s doing.

“I have no idea.” Whisper yells Banner, confirming your suspicions, “We’re talking about time travel here. Either it’s all a joke, or none of it is.” Explains Bruce, suddenly smiling as he lifts his attention back over to Scott, “We’re good!” He shouts with a positive thumbs up of that prominently famous green.

“Oh we’re so fucked.” You mutter humorously while Natasha shares an uncertain look with you.

“Get your helmet on.” States Banner as Scott does just that, “Scott, I’m gonna send you back a week...let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds. Make sense?”

Scott smiles brightly, waving him off with confidence, “Perfectly not confusing.” He muses with an almost annoyingly positive expression.

“Good luck Scott. You got this.” Encourages Steve while Scott grins proudly. “You’re right. I do, Captain America.” Then just like that’s he’s gone, sucked into the reactor like a crumb into a vacuum cleaner.

“On a count of three..” Begins Banner, “Three, two, one.” Bruce flips some switches as the machine whirs before a second later and there’s Scott. In the body of a teen. “Uh, guys? This doesn’t feel right.” Worries teen Scott as his brows furrow in confusion, clearly not aware of how he looks. This just got interesting.

“What’s going on?” Questions Steve as Bruce urgently flicks more switches. “Who is that?” Wonders Natasha as you snort at teen Scott, snickering at how absolutely ridiculous your life is becoming and the weird shit you’re adding to the list.

“Oh my god he looks so innocent, like before the world hurt him.” You muse as Natasha’s brows raise in bewilderment, giving you a side glance as she focuses back on the person in question. “Is that, Scott?”

“Yes, it’s Scott!” Protests the sassy little 14 year old before whoosh and he’s gone once again while Banner squats down out of view to mess with some more buttons. A hot second later Scott’s back, this time looking significantly different.

“Oh, my back!” Complains the short wrinkly 80 year old man, Steve sending the back of Bruce a troubled look, “What is this?”

“Hold on a second. Could I get a little space guys.”

Steve hastily jogs around Bruce as he makes his way over to you and Nat, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you bring him back?”

“I’m working on it.” Mumbles Banner with underlying urgency as he flicks more switches in hopes of getting a better result, whoosh, and Scott’s gone again before reappearing as a...

“It’s a baby.” Deadpans Steve in astonishment.

You burst with laughter, “It’s Scott! Let’s just keep him this way so we don’t have to hear him ramble about how amazing you are, Captain America.” You tease playfully as Steve throws you a what-the-fuck kinda expression. “Y/N! He’s a baby!”

“He‘ll grow.” Adds Bruce as you shrug in agreement. Crossing your arms as you study baby Scott, “Steve you can change the diapers.”

“Bring Scott back.” Urges Steve as he ignores you and Banners amusement of the situation.

“Alright fine.” Chides Bruce, “When I say kill the power, kill the power.”

Natasha rushes past you while mumbling, “Oh, my God.” As you await for Bruce’s fantastic technological skills.

“And....kill it!” Natasha turns the breaker switch downwards and a moment later Scott’s back, this time fully Scott. Whether that’s good or not is debatable.

He stands there, arms open and face twisted in confusion, “Somebody peed my pants. But I don’t know if it was baby me or old me.......Or just...me me.” Speculates Scott as you snort in amusement.

“It was probably just you.”

He sends you an unsure look that’s half offended yet he can’t exactly counter that claim considering he’s just jumped between three different age groups of himself. Bruce claps his hands together before spreading his arms out wide in excitement, “Time travel!” He shouts enthusiastically as Steve shakes his head before turning to walk elsewhere, “What?” Wonders Bruce, “I see this as an absolute win.

——

In the following weeks after Banner’s half-successful attempt at legitimate time travel, Tony and Rocket have been toiling away tirelessly on Starks actual time machine since he’s agreed to help fix the mess that Thanos left behind. The Avengers base has honestly never been busier; with Tony, Banner, and Rocket working on the giant machine. Everyone else is going about their business helping when needed and hoping for good news.

So here you are now, in the middle of the night with all light sources retired for the evening, hanging out in the kitchen with a bowl of watermelon chunks in your hand, and greatly enjoying the recently rare peace and quiet. Though soon your silent midnight snacking is disrupted when the sounds of human feet padding on tile reaches your ears from down the hallway. Dammit.

The lights flicker on in an instant, blinding your vision for a brief moment before they adjust accordingly to find the blue eyes of Steve, he yelps in surprise, hand holding his chest as he relaxes once more when he realizes it’s just you. Then he does a double take, considering you’re seated crossed legged on the counter with a bowl of watermelon, “Uh, hey there Y/N.”

You nod, awkwardly taking a bite out of your snack, “Steve.”

He raises a curious brow, deciding to step farther into the large kitchen area, “Huh, never seen anyone eat watermelon like that before, but I respect it.” Says the blonde, nodding towards the chopsticks held in your right hand.

“Yeah. Less of a mess.” He nods before taking a Gatorade out of the fridge, “Mind if I sit?”

“Go for it.” He nods before promptly seating himself next to the marble table. “So, eating in the dark? Your inner night owl keeping you from sleeping again?”

You shrug, “I can kinda see in the dark so....yeah, a bit of a night owl.” You admit with a growing frown, not sure why you suddenly feel so down in the dumbs again, “....guess I haven’t really slept well for some time now....well, now since I think about it actually, I probably don’t get as much sleep as your average person.”

“I get that, yeah....I know what you mean.” Lightly chuckles Steve in understanding, taking a small moment of silence to let his mind think of something to sway the atmosphere away from an awkward tension. Parting his eyes away from his clasped hands, he looks up to meet your stoic gaze, “You think all this is possible? I mean they’ve made some real progress and I guess Tony really knows what he’s doing. Still after all this time I can’t help but find it amazing.”

Pursing your lips together in thought, you let a small sigh emit from your parted lips before answering, “I hope so, cause if not. Well, guess that would be as expected.” You admit with a frown, “Maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to go....a fitting punishment for my lengthy list of crimes. I guess that’s fair.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Counters Steve as he sends you a sympathetic look, “What happened to you isn’t your fault, neither is what they made you do, or everything Thanos did to the universe....”

“Yeah, guess you’re probably right....it’s just...just so difficult to move on you know? From all of it, everything swirling in my head, and even though it’s been five fucking years now. I still think of that shit, even worse, I still think of Bucky every single day, I miss him.....I just, I miss all of them.” You admit sadly, setting your snack down as Steve takes a moment to reflect on his own losses.

Suddenly his lips curl into a humored smile as he shakes his head, eyes looking down at the table before they connect with your curious ones, “God he was so different back in the 40’s....Y/N you wouldn’t believe the stuff we got up to, jeesh, the stuff he got up to.” Chuckles Steve as you raise an intrigued brow.

“Alright Rogers care to elaborate?” You press with a growing smile at the thought of Bucky and learning more about him, “Bucky never told me a whole lot about that time. Considering he’ll probably never get the chance, I think I’d like to learn more about him and what shit you people did back then.”

“Aren’t you from the 1950′s?” Inquires Steve with a humored grin as you wave him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I was a baby back then I don’t remember what happened okay,” You explain, “I was born in 53 alright, and let’s not forget I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”

Steve nods, “Right. Fair point.....Okay so..” He laughs, “There was this one time and if you knew me back in the day, of course I was getting in an unsolicited scuffle with some boys who thought it was funny to argue with the paperboy.”

Raising a brow, you begin to smile as his eyes light up, “An unsolicited scuffle?” You muse, “Or is this when skinny Steve got his ass kicked by a couple of mangy dogs?”

“Dogs. Yeah that’s probably more fitting, well you know, of course I had to step in and do something.”

“As expected.” You quickly add as he continues.

“Which I did. And let me tell you they were not a fan. Those assholes ran me for two blocks till I got cornered in some market when who would you know it.....Bucky was there, taking some cute strawberry blonde out for a date while he got groceries for his mom.” Chuckles Steve, blue eyes shimmering with the humorous memories coming back to him about his old friend.

You heart subconsciously swells with the thought of Bucky, “Clever man. Sweet talk your girl while doing something useful.”

“Exactly. I would have gotten a bloody nose if he hadn’t thrown a tomato right at the biggest guys head. That thing coated his hair like red paint, then...” Steve balls his fist as he presses it against his mouth to try and keep himself from losing it with laughter, “...then, his friend turned around and smack! Another tomato right in his face.”

Snickering in amusement, you run a hand down the side of your face at the vivid image forming in your head, “oh Bucky..”

“It was pretty damn accurate too. The other guy booked it down the sidewalk before Buck could get him. Then when he started walking towards us, the other guys took off like a couple of scared birds....fortunately leaving me with no bruises that day.” Says Steve proudly, no doubt thinking fondly on that old memory, “Then of course he told me I gotta be more careful and all that stuff, I said I was fine and he want back to shopping with that girl......huh, don’t think I ever saw her again, well....at least with him.”

“Don’t blame her, he sounded like a real ladies man back in the day, she probably got too jealous.” You joke with a small brow wiggle before your smile lessens again, God you miss him so fucking much, “Thanks Steve.....he seemed, so different. It’s just when I knew him, when I first met him that is, Bucky was very different.”

Steve’s face looses it’s once vibrant glow, he keeps a steady gaze set on you now, knowing your time with him was such a chilling contrast to Bucky in the 40’s. You sigh, “I think I would have liked to see that version of Bucky just once, but I liked the Bucky I got after everything we went through.....after everything’s that’s happened. Maybe 40’s Bucky wouldn’t even look in my direction, I’d probably scare the socks off of him anyways.”

Steve shakes his head, “No way Y/N, you’d have him wrapped around your finger so fast, not a doubt in my mind he’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. That’s just who he was, a player yes, but a kind one who treated everyone with respect through that famous charm of his.....and you, you’d have caught his attention in an instant.”

Looking down at your hands, you raise the corner of your lips into a small half grin at the thought of Sergeant Barnes losing it all to the dangerous vixen that is no doubt yourself, now that’s an interesting thought indeed. Bucky in the 40′s, how about that.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not....but I know one thing. That I’m glad to have even known him at all, he was...so special and he didn’t even know it.” You pause for a moment, lips pursing together as you think fondly of your past lover. Steve keeps silent, studying your disheartened features as you gather your words, “So if, if they can somehow do this....if it’s even actually possible to get those fucking stones again. I’ll do whatever it takes, Steve.”

Whatever it takes.

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #avengers insert #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky fanfic #my work

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parkerslatte · 3 years

Text

See You Again

MASTERLIST

Platonic!Alex Mercer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Bit of a crappy ending?

Word Count: 1.6k+

Summary: (Y/N) was best friends with Alex before he, Luke and Reggie died. Twenty-five years later, (Y/N) is friends with Julie's dad, Ray. She goes with him, Carlos and Victoria to see Julie perform at the Orpheum. That's where she see's her best friend again - but he looks alive and seventeen.

A/N: I would say that this is kind of and AU where the boys never go to Caleb and never get stamped but Julie can still touch them as it makes more sense with the story. :)

*****

Growing up, (Y/N) could always rely on her four best friends in the entire world - Alex, Luke, Reggie and Bobby. She could go to them for anything. If she was sad, they would cheer her up. If she was feeling lonely, they would stay with her to make sure that she didn’t feel that way anymore. However out of the four boys, she had always had a special connection with Alex - as soon as they met the two of them clicked.

(Y/N) and Alex knew each other extremely well - or too well some may say. The pair of them practically spending every waking moment together. (Y/N) was the first person Alex ever came out to. (Y/N) remembered that day clearly.

......

Fifteen year old’s (Y/N) (L/N) and Alex Mercer were sprawled out across (Y/N)’s bed. It was raining outside so the two friends couldn’t do anything so they were cooped up inside. They had tried to watch a movie but both of them got bored within the first fifteen minutes. The room was silent.

Alex fiddled with his thumbs while staring up at (Y/N)’s ceiling. He wanted to tell her but he was scared. What if she didn’t accept him? What if after he told him she hated him? These thoughts had been running through Alex’s mind for the past ten minutes. Alex knew that if (Y/N) was truly his friend then she would accept him no matter what. But he just couldn’t help but feel this way.

“(Y/N)?” Alex’s voice broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” (Y/N) hummed in response. Alex cleared his throat before asking, “Would you be my friend no matter what?”

(Y/N) turned to him before sitting up in the bed, “Of course I would Alex! Why wouldn’t you think I wouldn’t?”

Alex sighed while sitting up, “Well it’s just, I don’t like-” Alex cut himself off looking around the room. He didn’t understand why this was so difficult for him.

(Y/N) reached forward and took Alex’s hand in hers giving it a gentle squeeze, “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Alex looked down at her hand for a moment before moving his gaze up to meet her eyes, he took one finale exhale before saying, “I don’t like girls. I like boys.” It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.

(Y/N) looked at her blonde friend for a moment longer before a smile broke out on her face, “I’m glad you told me Alex.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad? You like boys, what’s the big deal? Alex, you’re my best friend and I’ll still love you regardless of who you love.” (Y/N) brought Alex in for a hug and the boy hugged her back, trying to prevent the tears that were threatening to fall.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

...

Of course being friends with all four members of Sunset Curve had its perks. (Y/N) was invited to every gig they played - including their biggest one they ever had. The Orpheum. Of course (Y/N) was extremely excited for the boys and wanted to spend every moment with them up until the performance, until Alex, Luke and Reggie opted to go out and get street dogs. (Y/N) obviously stayed within the Orpheum with Bobby - who had taken the opportunity to chat up the waitress.

To say the night hadn’t gone as planned would be an understatement. When she woke up that morning, (Y/N) never realised that she would be crying her eyes out over the death of her three best friends. All because they had gone to get those stupid street dogs. (Y/N) had to go to three funerals in the span of a week.

Of course, for a few years after the death of Alex, Luke and Reggie, (Y/N) had Bobby. The two had gotten through their darkest moment in their lives together. (Y/N) always thought that she would have Bobby by her side until he decided to unexpectedly move away, cutting off most contact. For a few months, (Y/N) was distraught, losing the last piece she had as a reminder of the band that never made it big, but after a few months she met a man named Ray.

The two became friends and (Y/N) became friends with his fiancee, Rose (who (Y/N) realised was the waitress from the Orpheum). She was even a bridesmaid at their wedding. It was also at their wedding where (Y/N) met her future husband, Chris. (Y/N) and Chris were married in 2007 and they welcomed a child a few years later.

When Rose died, (Y/N) tried her best to help the Molina family through it. (Y/N) had lost three people who she considered her family years ago, so, in a way, she knew what the family were going through. (Y/N) also tried to help get Julie back into music however she failed. (Y/N) thought that Julie was never going to play music again, that’s why she was extremely proud of the girl when she told her that she was playing music again.

(Y/N) was given a VIP pass for Julie’s performance at the Orpheum. The woman had never gotten the chance to see Julie perform at the Molina’s since she was working and she hadn’t gotten around to watching the video Ray had put on YouTube. She was excited to hear the talented young girl sing again.

(Y/N)’s heart swelled with pride as the girl she had watched grow up stepped out onto the stage of the Orpheum. When she began to sing, a wide smile stretched across the woman’s face. However, that smile soon fell as the drummer of Julie’s hologram band appeared on the stage. Her eyes widened as the bassist of Julie’s band appeared on the stage and she nearly threw up as the guitarist of Julie’s band appeared on the stage. It couldn’t be, (Y/N) thought to herself.

While everyone around her cheered and clapped along to the song, (Y/N) was standing there in shock, not moving. Her best friends - who were meant to be dead - were performing on stage with Julie and they still looked seventeen. The song ended and everyone cheered. The band walked to the end of the stage and bowed. as soon as they bowed, Alex, Luke and Reggie disappeared and poofed back to the studio.

After the performance, (Y/N) called her husband asking if he could go and pick up their son from his friend’s house since (Y/N) had something to do and couldn’t get there on time. Of course he agreed.

(Y/N) drove to the Molina residence and parked outside the house. Knowing the young Molina girl well, (Y/N) knew that she would be in the studio so she made her way there as soon as she shut her car door, not even bothering to lock it.

“Julie?” (Y/N) called out as she approached the studio.

“I’m in here.” The Molina girl called back.

(Y/N) wandered into the studio and found Julie standing by the piano, but that wasn’t all she found. (Y/N)’s face dropped as Alex Mercer, Luke Patterson and Reggie Peters stood around Julie.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s up?”

(Y/N) didn’t answer her gaze was locked onto her three former best friends, specifically Alex. Julie followed (Y/N)’s gaze and her eyes widened.

“You can see them?” (Y/N) didn’t respond to Julie, she continued to look at Alex in shock.

“(Y/N)?” Julie asked, concerned about the older woman.

“Alex?” (Y/N) said.

A look of realisation washed across Alex’s features, “(Y/N)?”

“How? You- you were- are dead?” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering.

“We- we still are.” Alex answered his best friend. Alex now realised that she hadn’t changed, only gotten older.

“But, how- how are you here?” (Y/N) questioned, her gaze scanning over Luke and Reggie who had taken a step closer to her.

“We don’t know.” Alex answered, his voice cracking.

“I missed you guys.” (Y/N) said, tears falling from her eyes.

“We missed you too.” Alex answered, although it had only felt like a few weeks since he had last seen (Y/N) but he understood that for her it had been twenty-five years since she had last seen him.

Without thinking, (Y/N) flung her arms around her best friend. Alex, expecting her to go right through him, was surprised when he felt her. (Y/N) buried her head into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms back around her.

Julie, who was watching the scene unfold, looked at the two confused.

“(Y/N) was our best friend growing up.” Luke said, noticing Julie’s confusion.

Realisation dawned on Julie, “This was the (Y/N) you kept mentioning?”

Luke nodded and turned his attention back to (Y/N) and Alex who had broken away from their hug and (Y/N) had moved on to hug Reggie, then finally Luke. (Y/N) wiped her eyes after she had pulled away from Luke.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” (Y/N) said.

“So, (Y/N) what have you gotten up to in the past twenty-five years?” Luke questioned.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “Well, I got married and I had a son.”

“What’s his name?” Reggie asked.

(Y/N) turned her gaze to her blonde best friend, “Alex. My son's name is Alex.”

A smile spread across Alex’s face at (Y/N)’s answer, “You really named your son after me?”

“Of course I did, how could I not?” (Y/N) answered.

Alex smiled at his best friend, she might be older now but she was still the same person who had loved him and accepted him when other people didn’t and he was happy that he could speak with her again.

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #alex mercer #jatp alex #luke patterson #jatp luke #reggie peters #jatp reggie #julie molina #jatp julie #julie and the phantoms x reader

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crystalirises · 3 years

Text

Until We Meet Again

5undy my beloved :DDD.

But ye... have this 5undy fic :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/74307849

“This is so stupid.” Fundy’s hands trembled as he looked down at the letter, tears beading at the corner of his eyes as he reread every word that was hastily scribbled onto the parchment. 5up regarded him from across the room, frozen in his seat as he watched Fundy’s smile crumble into a frown. Crumb looked up from where she laid, tilting her head as Fundy suddenly threw the letter onto the table, stricken with a pain that they’d only ever seen when Fundy’s mother - Sally - had passed away. He moved to the other side of the room, curling up into the corner as he buried his face in his hands. “Why now? Why does he want me now? It’s not… It’s not fair!”

He could hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as 5up or perhaps Crumb moved closer, the crinkle of paper making his ears twitch in irritation. After a few seconds, an arm snaked around his shoulder, pulling him into a semi-hug. Fundy threw his arms around them, crying and shaking as 5up began to run a hand up and down his back. The plant hybrid was whispering words of reassurance, of understanding if Fundy really had to leave. Fundy shook his head, whimpering at the thought of leaving 5up and Crumb by themselves to survive in a horrible wasteland. Ever since Fundy’s mother passed away, the three kids had to strive for everyday survival. “Hey… it’s not that bad. He probably wants to see you again. How long has it been? Five? Six? Seven一”

“Eight. He left mom and me eight years ago.” Fundy sniffed, pulling away long enough to wipe away his tears with the back of his hand. 5up nodded, the leaf that grew from the top of his head casted low despite the sweet smile that was on his face. Fundy curled closer to his best friend’s side, miserable even as Crumb moved to sit by his left, placing her head against his shoulder. Fundy wasn’t sure if he could ever leave them. How could he just leave the only home he’s ever known? He bit the inside of his cheek, wishing his dad had just forgotten he even existed. “I don’t want to go. He’s probably old and mean now. And leaving means I won’t see you two again!”

“He’s your dad, isn’t he?” Crumb had moved from leaning against his side to lying her head on his lap, sleepy despite the naps she usually liked to take. “Don’t you want to see him again?”

“No! He left. He shouldn’t want to see me again.” Fundy huffed, wishing he could just tear that letter into two or burn it or-or-or something. “He didn’t even ask if I wanted to go with him.”

“...he misses you, I think.” 5up’s gaze was downcast, his legs kicking at the air as he looked at anywhere but Fundy. “I bet he just wants to take care of you, like a real dad is supposed to do.”

“But why now?! He didn’t care before, why does he think he can take me with him without even asking me if I want to go with him!” Fundy buried his face in his hands once more, the tears freely flowing past his cheeks as both Crumb and 5up tried to calm him down. He didn’t want to go! It wasn’t fair! It just wasn’t fair! “He wants me to leave both of you and I know he’s not gonna take you because he only wants me but I don’t want to leave you two! You’re my family! Why does he think he has the right to take me away from the two of you?! It’s not fair! It’s not fair! I don’t want him to take me away. Don’t let him take me away! I don’t want to go!” Fundy screamed and screamed, stomping at the ground with every shout he made. 5up and Crumb didn’t flinch, all of them having had to deal with each other’s tantrums in the past few years.

“We can’t do anything, Funds.” Crumb murmured, hugging him tightly as she tried to keep from crying herself. Fundy hugged her back, pulling 5up with him as they all held onto each other tightly. Fundy knew it was stupid to cry and scream, it wasn’t like they could do anything. His dad would probably just pick Fundy and up leave, mom did say his dad was very tall. Fundy wrapped his tail around his waist, his ears pressed to the top of his head as he tried to keep his focus on his two best friends. He didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have a choice. “What if… what if we give you something to remember us? Something so cool that you’ll never forget us!”

“Bracelet! We could do a bracelet!” 5up moved away from the group hug, making his way towards the chest they had tucked away into the corner, pulling out every scrap of metal they had scavenged from their time of stealing and mining. Crumb grinned, pulling Fundy along with her as they helped 5up find something that looked like it could be a bracelet. They eventually found a bit of metal wire, Crumb bending it until it looked somewhat like a circle, despite the odd bumps here and there. She handed it to 5up who - the moment he touched it - began to summon vines to form around the metal, small white, orange, and white with patches of orange flowers began to bloom from the plant. 5up gave it to Fundy who held it close to his chest, mindful of not accidentally squishing the flowers. After a few seconds of trying, he finally got it into his arm. “There. Now you can’t forget us! You can look at that and think about me and Crumb!”

“Thanks, guys.” He held his right wrist close to his chest, tracing the soft petals with his fingertips as he tried to remember this moment. Fundy looked up, forcing a smile to his face as he watched Crumb toss everything back inside the chest. He looked over to 5up, freezing as caught the glimpse of sadness dancing in his best friend’s bright pink eyes. 5up jumped as he realized Fundy was looking at him, tilting his head and giving Fundy a small laugh. Fundy frowns at the odd display, not wanting to ruin the moment by asking anything. “I’ll miss you both so much… and... I promise I’m going to write to you guys every day until I get back! I swear it!”

---

Fundy sat curled against the crumbling foundation of what was once the house he and his mom had lived in. His tail was curled around his waist, a small duffel bag by his side as he folded and unfolded the letter that his dad had sent him. He wished he hadn’t gone back, maybe then he wouldn’t have found the letter among the ruins of the cabin. Fundy wasn’t really sure how mail worked there since his mom didn’t want them to live near the desert village… did the village have a mailman? Well someone had to deliver his dad’s letter. Fundy frowned, wondering why they didn’t just toss it away. Fundy moved away when his mom died and their house chose to collapse.

“What the… Sally!” Fundy’s ears perked up, looking over the remains of what used to be a stone wall. He watched as a man dressed in a blue coat stood at the front of the house, shock dancing in the man’s dark brown eyes as he looked around. Fundy knew who he was. Mom used to have a picture of his dad that she would show him everytime he asked what his dad looked like. His dad looked more tired in person though. “Oh my fucking gods… SALLY! FUNDY! No no no no…”

“Dad…?” He stood up from where he was hiding, wishing he hadn’t done so because as soon as he did, the man had turned his attention towards him. His dad stood there for a moment, a kaleidoscope of emotions flashing through his eyes, blinking profusely as though to make sure Fundy was really there. He stayed where he was, nervous and unsure about this man who was supposed to be his dad but felt more like a stranger than someone who was supposed to be family. As Fundy looked away, the man snapped out of his shock and quickly moved towards him. Fundy squeaked in surprise as he felt himself get lifted, a pair of arms holding onto him tightly as he felt (huh… Fundy was sure it wasn’t supposed to rain today) water drip on top of his head. The man held onto him, murmuring something underneath his breath as he pressed Fundy closer to his chest. Fundy began to squirm, embarrassed and confused by this unknown affection.

“Oh my gods… You’re okay. You’re okay.” He wasn’t sure why the man had begun to shush him, it wasn’t like Fundy was saying anything. The man reached down, still keeping Fundy in his hold as Fundy caught a glimpse of the duffel bag that Crumb and 5up insisted he take with him. “Why didn’t I… why the fu一 How? Why? Where’s… Hey, champ. Can I ask where your mom went and why the house is like this? Oh my gods, why are you so dirty? How long have you been alone?”

“Wasn’t alone… Mom died four years ago… I think.” The man looked grief-stricken, his hold tightening even more that Fundy was scared he wouldn’t be able to breathe. Fundy began to play with his bracelet, “House got set on fire… mom… mama didn’t make it out. I miss mama…”

Fundy kept his tears to himself, refusing to show any form of weakness to this stranger who was going to steal him away from 5up and Crumb. As if to prove his point, the man began to stagger away from the house, Fundy still in his arms as his dad turned on his heel and began to walk away. He growled beneath his breath, irritated that he wasn’t being put down. He was perfectly capable of walking! He struggled in the man’s arms, pushing and shoving, but his dad continued to hold onto him. His dad began to coo, pressing a hand at the top of his head as though to comfort him. Fundy wondered if he’d be abandoned if he decided to just bite. As he came to a decision, he felt the man pet at his ears, scratching behind them that Fundy couldn’t help but relax into the hold. He blinked, eyelids feeling heavy as the man continued to pet his ears. Why was he so sleepy? He felt himself yawn, eliciting an ‘aww’ from his dad as they kept on moving.

“I shouldn’t have left for so long. Gods know what you had to endure. But don’t worry, papa’s here now. And I’m sure Sally would prefer it this way.” Fundy curled against his dad’s chest, too tired to process what the man was saying. “She’d want me to raise you in L’Manburg instead of leaving you here… Gods, I should have been there. Why wasn’t I there to protect both of you?”

He could feel his dad’s hand shaking as he pauses in petting his ears, only continuing once Fundy began to whine. “I should have been there... I should have been there… why wasn’t I?”

Fundy huffed, closing his eyes as he kept his right wrist tucked near his chest, the groove of the bracelet reminding him of the home he was leaving behind. He wasn’t sure where his dad was taking him, knowing only that his mom said that his dad lived in a very very bad place. Fundy didn’t want to go with his dad if that was the case. He wanted to be with 5up and Crumb!

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, my little champion. I won’t leave you again, I promise.”

---

Fundy stared down at the piles and piles of unread letters, guilt washing away the pain and hysterics he had fallen into a few hours ago. He collapsed into the chair, burying his face in his hands as he realized what he had done. He’d been so busy these past few years that he forgot.

“Stupid Wilbur and his stupid rules. This… This is his fault for being so overbearing! AHHHH!”

His head thumped against the wooden desk as he ran a hand through his disheveled and blood-stained hair, his claws biting into the scalp and possibly drawing even more blood. After everything, he just couldn’t bring himself to calm down. For the third time, he had watched as his home was destroyed by the people who were supposed to be “family.” He had a fight with Ranboo over fucking sides and people and… Fundy was just so fucking tired. Then the letters… the letters he had kept but never read were bringing back promises that he made to friends he had forgotten. Fundy was a terrible friend, and though a part of it was Wilbur’s fault for refusing to let him send any letters back to Cogchamp, he was still the one who followed his dad’s orders. Like the good little boy that he was supposed to be, he gave up his true family for a man who barely had the right to be his dad. Fundy whimpered, truly and utterly alone for once in his life.

He looked over the top letter, sniffing as he pulled himself back up into a proper sit. After how many years of silence, would anyone even care if Fundy suddenly wrote back? He reached out a hand, freezing before finally settling on picking up the top letter. He looked over at the crudely written handwriting, laughing as he realized that 5up had been the one to write it. Slowly, he opened the letter, scouring through the words that until he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. This was an old letter, one that was sent right after Fundy had left Cogchamp.

‘... Crumb and I found something by the way. I think it’s supposed to be copper? We’re not sure. We might ask some of the villagers about it… and oh! We found this cool red dust thing. It gets everywhere but it lights up sometimes. We’re still trying to figure out how it works. We miss you! And I hope you’re doing good over there in L… L’Manburn (???). Crumb says hi too! Bye!’

He couldn’t help but smile, moving on to the next letters until he found one that was written during the Manburg Era. Fundy shivered, tearing it open before he lost himself in the memories.

‘... Crumb and I have been doing well, still haven’t received word from you in a very long time but I’m sure you’ve been busy. How are you faring with your dad? Did you two make up yet? Well, I’m sure you both did. Cogchamp’s doing great, I’d think you’d like to know. Crumb and I have been putting our skills in redstone and engineering to use, and the villagers have been paying us in food and money. We haven’t had to steal in a few months now! Isn’t that great? Crumb’s planning on saving enough money to get herself a pet and I’ve saved enough to get us both a house. Just thought you should know, so don’t worry about us too much! Bye, Fundy!’

Fundy laughed at that, a part of him relaxing as he realized that they were doing so much better than he ever gave them credit for. He placed the letter aside, eyebrows furrowing as he noticed there were more letters than there really should have been. 5up had to stop sending them at some point. He gave off a nervous laugh, wincing as the sound echoed back at him, further reminding him that in a nation that was once so full of noise and laughter… he was alone. He read through the letters, reaching the final one, surprised to find that the letter was just recently sent.

‘Hey, Fundy! Are you doing alright? Crumb and I are doing well! The city is really coming along and all our inventions are working perfectly. You should really visit sometime! We miss you…’

The letter fell from his hands as tears finally spilled down his cheeks. Even after all this time, they never stopped writing while Fundy never even sent them a single letter. Fundy hugged his hand closer to his chest, the groove of the bracelet reminding him of the promise he had broken.

---

“5! 5! LOOK!” He looked up, his goggles caked in soot as he wiped away the redstone against his already stained brown pants. 5up laughed as Crumb rushed towards him, an envelope in her hands as her tail flicked back and forth. She stopped at the edge of the pit, crouching low enough that 5 could reach up to plush the letter from her hands. He wonders what she was so excited about now… “It’s from FUNDY! He finally wrote back! About time, that silly, stupid fox.”

5up felt his heart hammer in his chest, masking his eagerness with a calm smile as he slowly unfolded the letter open. He blinked, surprised to find an entire story written into the letter (well, pages). Crumb had a smile on her face, but there was concern in her eyes. 5 continued to read on, each paragraph sending him into distress as Fundy recounted everything that’s happened in the past few years. “Oh cogs… what… what horrible and terrible place did Fundy get dragged into?”

“I don’t know but it sounds awful, he shouldn’t be there at all. He should come back here and live with us! And I know he definitely misses you!” 5up coughed as Crumb began to giggle, winking at him as he tried to keep himself from blushing. He could agree with one thing, Fundy needed a better place to heal… maybe he should go back. “Seeeeeee! Fundy should come back!”

“Yeah… only if he wants to…” 5up ignored Crumb as she began to whine, his warm gaze falling back to the letter. A smile played on his lips as he reread the words Fundy had left off.

‘I missed you too.’

---

Fundy nervously paced around the empty plot of field that 5up had told him to find, the suitcase heavy in his hands as he looked at the distance. He wasn’t sure what to feel after everything.

He was scared, nervous, excited, and ready to faint or puke or both, if he was being honest. He stopped, placing the suitcase on the ground as he took a calming shaky breath. This was fine, everything was perfectly fine. 5up told him to find an empty field and send him the coordinates.

Then he heard it. The low whistle of machinery that sent a shiver of surprise down his spine. Fundy glanced up, seeing light smoke appearing in the distance as - what he could only assume was the “locomotive” that 5up had mentioned within his letters - a train made its way through the field. He was ecstatic to see that the train somehow had the capability of adding rails in front of it and removing rails behind it as it moved. Ohhh, he had to know how that thing worked!

Fundy felt his heart skip a beat as the train slowed to a stop in front of him.

He took a shaky breath as the train doors began to open, a familiar silhouette appearing against the warm yellow light that decorated the inside of the train. Fundy felt his breath stutter, eyes blinking in disbelief as a familiar plant hybrid walked down the steps and into the sunlight.

“Fundy…” 5up breathed out.

“5…” Fundy nearly cried.

They didn’t waste a single moment, both of them rushing into the others arms, laughing and smiling. Fundy felt somewhat whole again, not as alone as he had felt in the past few days. He held onto 5up, both of them crying as they held one another. 5up smiled, feeling the familiar groove of a bracelet against his back as Fundy held onto him tightly. After a few moments, they both let go, but their hands were entangled, refusing to truly let go again. Never again.

“Ready to go…?” 5up smiled.

“Ready to go home.”

A sharp whistle cut through the air…

And then they were gone.

Together again, once more.

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

Hope you guys like it! :D

#fundy #5up #5undy #crumb #wilbur soot #mcyt #cogchamp my beloved

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the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

IVY P6 Cosy

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: SWEET AF!

I had grown rather used to having my little audience. Y/n came over almost everyday for at least an hour just to sit and watch me play chess making all her little notes and working on ivy as she slowly brought her equipment over every time she visited so I know had half a computer in my living room. But today honestly I wasn't expecting her there was a horrible storm over new york.

The subway has been down for days, no taxis working, barely a car could get thought, my poor little beatle is burried under the snow, my apartment as cold as ice as the heating was now working but not working all that well, at least I had hot water now, the windows blocked completely by snow and where one slightly leaks it has frozen shut with icicles on the inside as the water leaking in had frozen on the way in, I could hear the wind rushing through, the news reports I was getting on my tiny tv weren't good so I turned it off trying not to think about the cold.

I had two pairs of socks on, fluffy socks. My jeans on with a blanket over my legs, my black t shirt, then my black turtleneck shirt, then my green button down then my jacket and I still had to wrap a blanket around my shoulders to stop me shivering. I jumped as I heard the phone I begrudgingly got up from my chair and went to answer it trying not to loose a blanket on the way I picked it up trying not to shiver in my voice

"Hello?"

"Hi Benny" I heard her familiar voice but she had called me before from her dorm but it sounded different

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Quick question do you have heating?"

"Well yes. It's not very good but yes. Why?"

"Uhhh could you maybe put it on full. And also put the kettle on"

".... Ohh my god you crazy girl are you actually coming?'

"Yes"

"I thought we'd work from your from today on the phones and all"

"I was going too but most everyone else has gone home for the holidays and the dorms are so so cold."

"Where are you?"

"Uhh the payphone about a block down the street from yours"

"You're walking! Y/n you must be frozen half to death get off the phone get here as quick as you can I'll get the kettle on" I told her quickly hanging up I didn't want her on the phone any longer then she had to be I got up going to the kitchen to put the kettle on hell I'll have a hot drink as I'n turning it on and soon enough I heard fast shaking little taps, I rushed over and quickly pulled the door open having to fight against the ice around it but I got it open and she stood there on my doorstep covered in an inch of snow shivering in her usual purple coat "oohh get in here you silly girl you'll freeze" I laughed quickly letting her in and shutting the door behind us to keep the cold out

"Benny I can't feel my toes"

"I imagine you can't. Those boots don't look like snow boots?"

"There not I didn't have snow boots so I just put my thermal boots and some extra socks"

"Here let me get your coat off" I smiled helping her with her coat knocking all the snow off her revealing how cute she looked she had a little purple hat under her hood, and a long purple scarf wrapped around her about four times and had a long knee length knitted purple dress with pockets, she had little black mittens and what looked like four or five layers of thermal tights and these little boots I helped her get her boots off as somehow she had gotten snow inside her boots and she had three pairs of socks on top of her tights she slipped her mittens off and her scarf sitting them with her coat

"May I steal a blanket?" She asks noticing I had two

"You may" I laughed giving her one of my blankets

"You wanna mini hot water bottle?" She smiled pulling a pocket sized hot water bottle out of her pocket I took it curiously and it was hot I held it close feeling how warm it was

"Uuummm I will sell you my car for this tiny hand sized hot water bottle"

"It's okay Benny you can borrow it while I'm borrowing your blanket" she smiled we went over to the sofa having a sit together trying not to be too far apart as we where both warm, I feched her a tea and a I had my usual coffee "clink" she giggled tapping my mug with her own

"Clink" I laughed "fuck it's cold. Sorry I made you walk all this way"

"It's okay I wanted to come"

"I'm really not in the mood for chess today. Which sounds nuts but I'm just way too cold. Sorry for making you walk all this way for nothing"

"Not nothing, I got to see you" she smiled "and steal your blanket"

"I guess so. Guess it's kinda nice to have someone to wait out the storm with"

"Yeah someone to wait the storm out with" she smiled "why don't you get the duvet?"

"The duvet!" I jumped dashing to my bedroom and getting my duvet we both readjusted our blankets and then I threw the duvet over us both I smiled looking at her wrapped up so well against the sofa with the blanket around her shoulders and my duvet tucked up to her sipping the tea that she held so close "I like your scarf. And your little hat"

"Aww thank you" she blushed "I knitted them myself"

"You did? that's impressive. Can you make me a scarf?"

"Yeah, actually. I did bring my stuff with me" she laughed grabbing her bag getting some large needles "I have… black and white wool?"

"Can you make me a chess scarf?"

"Uhhh I don't see why not" she smiled sitting her tea on the side

"I'm going to get a book, want anything as I'm leaving the warm corner?"

"No thanks benny, Im cosy" she smiled

"Alright" I smiled back giving her temple a little kiss before leaving the duvet I already hated it I'm so cold out here, I grabbed a book or three before I remembered I jumped in my wardrobe and I saw it "ohh my god! I forgot about you!"

"About what?" Y/n giggled

"My long hot water bottle" I laughed showing her the thing i bought it years ago before going to Moscow on the assumption moscow would be cold and I ended up leaving it here it took a while to fill up as it was almost a meter long but I did it up and put the fluffy cover over it and came back beside her getting under the duvet and in the blankets laying the bottle across both our laps between the duvet and us I smiled as I sat getting cosy watching her slowly knit

"Why was your dorm so cold?' I asked her

"Most of them have gone home for the holidays, cheap place only keeps the heat on if more then two people are there and it was just me" she says "I tried to get on the bus to come see you but I had to walk"

"Why didn't you go home? For the holidays?"

"Not really much if a home to go to?"

"What do you mean?"

"My mother died in childbirth. My dad looked after me alone for most of my life. He passed away a few years ago now." She explained

"Ohh y/n. I'm so sorry, his did he die?"

She smiled slightly "he was working at nasa. In the space race and all, he was an engineer so they sent him onna test flight but… they never came back" she explained

"Must have been an amazingly smart man. I see where you get it from"

"Thank you, what about you? Why aren't you flying off somewhere to see your family?"

"Don't really have a family. Never really did. My dad died before I was even born, my mum like yours died in childbirth so my uncle took care of me he was a single guy no kids or anything but he had a heart attack when I was ten, been on my own since"

"I'm so sorry Benny"

"Its okay. Life goes on you know. Of course I miss them but… me sitting here bawling isn't gonna bring them back, lifes going to go on weather I sit here crying or weather I get on with it. So I better just get on with it"

"Yeah I see what you mean" she says "how about we play a game" she smiled

"Sure" I laughed

"Truth or dare"

"Damn it okay truth"

"Do you really love chess?'

"Not as much as I did once. I do really love chess but there is bullshit too it, the traveling sucks, there's alot of snobbery around it, I think I adored it once but… I still love it just not as much as I did" I explain "truth or dare?"

"Truth"

"... Do you really think ivy will work?'

"I'm sure of it. I know it. More then anything else in this world" she smiled "your turn"

"Okay truth again"

"What's the last thing you cried at?"

"Cried? Uhhh ohh god ugh lord of the rings"

"What?'

'the ending makes me cry okay"

"Awww that's so sweet. Yeah I cried when I read it too"

"I think everyone does. If you don't cry your kinda a dick" I laughed "your turn"

"Uhhh dare"

"Oooohhh uuuuuuughhh…. I dare you to," I began before I spotted an empty note pad so I grabbed the page and crumpled it up "eat a page"

"Why?"

"Because I dared you"

"Fine" she sighed taking it ripping it up small and slowly swallowing it "oww. That was mean"

"To be fair I really didn't have a dare set. Uuhh and I pick truth"

"You have to pick dare at some point Benny"

'ill pick dare next turn"

"Fine." She smiled "... Did you love beth?"

"What? How do you know about me and beth?"

"It's not a secret. I read about it in chess review"

"No. Honestly I don't know how I feel about beth. I don't think I love her. She's ignoring me at the moment anyway, I don't know. No. I think. I care about her but I get the feeling she doesn't care about me all that much"

"You shouldn't be with someone who doesn't care about you benny. Your better then that your worth so much more then that. You deserve a girl who adores you."

"Aww thanks y/n" I smiled "your turn"

".. truth"

"Do you…. Have a crush on someone?"

"What is this Benny a girl's sleepover?'

'come on I'm curious?"

"No"

"No you don't or no you don't wanna answer the question?"

"The second one"

"If you don't wanna answer it means you do"

"I never said that"

"Who is he? Some boy in your science class? Some cute boy who lives in your dorm?"

"No" she giggled "your turn"

"No you never answered my question"

"I do but I'm not telling you"

"Why not?" I laughed but I saw how red she was "y/n… do you"

"It's not your turn to ask questions Benny" she says hurrying her head in her knitting

"Fine. Dare"

"I dare you. To… not ask anymore questions"

"Why not?"

"That's a question"

"No, that's not how the game works. A proper dare"

"Fine I dare you go up there an stick your dick in the snow"

"Ahhhhh nooooo I don't wanna do that"

"I didn't wanna eat paper"

"NOOOO"

"Go or no questions"

"Fine" I sighed getting up already too cold without the duvet around me maybe I can just go up and climb I did it but she put her knitting down and got up too wrapping her scarf around her and getting her gloves and hat on as well as her coat keeping her hood down this time as she slipped on her boots I put some shoes on and begrudgingly unlocked my door the snow was now building up badly down my stairs so much it was up to my knees each time I took a step y/n using my holes in the snow to walk through till we got to the street it really was a blizzard I could barely see anything, my car burried the lights not even working on that streets

"Go on" she says

"No looking" I warn her undoing my jeans she looked away already turning red my whole brain screaming at me every self preservation element in my brain going nuts why am I getting my dick out in a Blizzard! I did it and by God I had never been colder in my life I of course screamed making her giggle like crazy I quickly did my jeans up in an attempted to get warm again shw tried to run inside from the cold but I grabbed her "ohh no you don't if I had to go in the snow your going in too!" I told her pushing her in the snow

"Ahhhhh!! Benny" she squealed "this. Means. War" she glared grabbing some snow and throwing it at me luckily she missed

"Ha you-" I began but she got another and got me right in the face before I even finished "fine. You wanna play this game. Fine let's play"

"No no no! You can't hit a girl Benny" she giggled

"Ohh no you threw first that rule Is irrelevant" I told her grabbing some snow and throwing it at her and it managed to get her just as she was getting up right on the butt

"AAAHHH! Benny! That went up my dress!" She screamed before she ran at me with a handful of snow and shoved it down the back of my jeans

"Ahhhhh! Y/n!" I complained grabbing as much as I could and filling her hood with it throwing it over her

"Ahhhhh!" She screamed pushing me into the snow so I pulled her down with me and we ended up with her on top of me on the snow "hi"

"Hi, you wanna go back in before we freeze to death?"

"Yes please" she nods happily getting up and helping me up out the snow too we hurried down and locked the apartment up hangout stuff by the door and getting cosy back on the sofa trying to warm up again

"So… I did my dare."

"Yep"

"So, it's your turn"

"Truth" she rolled her eyes as she began to knit again

"Do you have a crush…. On me?"

"Maybe"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe" she blushed

"No come on yes or no answer?"

"Yes" she blushed "I just… I saw you in the tournament a few years back and I just, I kinda did and when we met I couldn't help it"

"That's really sweet" I smiled giving her head a kiss "uhh y/n"

"Yes Benny?"

"The snows got no sign of stopping and I really don't want you walking back to your freezing cold dorm"

"What are you saying?'

"I'm saying. I think you should stay here tonight. Are how the snow looks in the morning."

"Where will I sleep?"

" I'll make the airbed up for you if you want, or… you can come cosy in my bed with me so we keep warm"

"I'd like that Benny" she smiled shuffling closer and resting her head in my chest I smiled wrapping an arm around her

"Y/n?"

"Yes Benny?"

"... I kinda had a crush on you too"

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nineteenninety-six · 4 years

Text

A Tragic Birthday

REQUEST: Could you do an imagine where the reader is a Shelby sister and Tommy’s favourite sibling and one day a deal goes wrong or something and she dies but kinda how grace died, in Tommy’s arms and it’s all hectic. Thanks:)

I was going to take a little break (only to the weekend) because tumblr was stressing me out and annoying me but when I started this, I couldn’t stop and I don’t like sitting on fics.

TW: Death

WORD COUNT: 2681

[PART TWO]

It was (Y/N)’s eighteenth birthday coming up in a week and it was safe to say that she was excited. (Y/N) had been looking forward to that day since her older brother Tommy had promised her a large party to celebrate the year before, and now that it was literally only days away she couldn’t stop buzzing about it, no doubt irritating her older siblings.

(Y/N) was the youngest of the Shelby siblings, a few years younger than Finn and was primarily raised by her Aunt Polly and her eldest brothers Arthur and Tommy. (Y/N) and Tommy were the closest between the siblings and had a special bond, that none of the others could replicate with their youngest sibling but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t close to her other siblings, because she was. In fact, it could be said that she had a special thing with each of her siblings; with Ada, they were close because they were the only girls in the family, Finn was the closest in age to her and they grew up as each other’s best friend, Arthur was the closest thing to a father she had and (Y/N) knew if she needed comforting then he would be the person she went to and John was someone she could rant to without judgment and he was always willing to help her out whenever she got in a sticky situation.

But the bond (Y/N) had with Tommy was different and there was no doubt that they were each other’s, favourite siblings. When their mother had died, Tommy had taken on the role as her primary caretaker, he changed her nappies, bottle-fed her and pretty much did anything a father would do. Polly had told her about how when she was a baby, Tommy would get a large piece of fabric and wrap her in it and secure her to his chest so that her cheeks rested on his chest because she would cry whenever she wasn’t being held by him and that it allowed him to keep her calm and content while he got some work done.

Just as much as (Y/N) hated being away from Tommy, Tommy hated being away from (Y/N) just as bad. He was overly protective when she was born, only allowing his Aunt Polly to get involved and help him out because despite thinking he knew everything, Tommy most definitely did not know how to handle a baby, especially not a newborn but he learnt and adapted and became a dad to her.

(Y/N) were three when Arthur, Tommy and John had to leave and go to war and Tommy to this day still has nightmares of how she screamed and cried to the point where she was almost sick at the train platform where he and the hundreds of other men from Small Heath were leaving from. (Y/N) didn’t understand what war was or why were her brothers were leaving but she did understand that her Tommy was leaving and she hated it.

Tommy had made a thousand promises to (Y/N) as he held her in his arms that day on the platform, repeatedly promising to come back alive and well and that he would never abandon her again and Tommy wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to keep them but he made it his goal to come back to her and the rest of his family.

But he didn’t break those promises and four years later, he was sobbing into the dress of a seven-year-old (Y/N), who was crying just as hard into his neck. The only time (Y/N) ever left Tommy’s arms the rest of that day was to hug her other brothers but other than that, (Y/N) was stuck to Tommy’s side. She was silent at first, slightly awkward around her brother who she hadn’t seen in years but it didn’t take long for her to become comfortable and start to quietly mutter into Tommy’s ear about everything he had missed whilst he was away and Tommy sat there in shock as she did so, marvelling at how much his little girl has grown. When he had left, she had just started to string sentences together but now she could speak in full sentences and was chatty, something he guessed she picked up from Ada.

That night as (Y/N) was curled up into a ball asleep beside him, Tommy cried once again. He was glad he was back home and alive but he knew nothing was going to be the same anymore but he was determined to keep things as normal as possible for her whilst she grew up and he was going to create a good life and world for her to live in.

And now eleven years after he’s returned home from the war, he’s pushed all his work to the side to prepare for the birthday of his little munchkin. Tommy had been dealing with an issue for the past week which involved one of his clients thinking he was overpaying for the Peaky Blinders services and was now demanding a refund. One that obviously Tommy refused to give.

Tommy called in the person who had knocked on the door, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork he was looking through.

“Hello to you too, Tommy.” The person said as they stepped into the office, moving to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of Tommy’s desk.

Tommy grinned when they spoke up, instantly recognising the voice,

“Good morning (Y/N), what have I done to be blessed with your presence this early in the morning?”

“I have the finalised cost list for the party.” Tommy pushed his other work to the side and took the piece of paper from (Y/N)’s fingers and skimmed his eyes over it, letting out a low whistle at the final amount,

“You plan on bleeding me dry eh?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and smiled, “Don’t even try it. I know my party costs less than what the Garrison re-opening did.”

“How do you know how much the Garrison cost?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I just do.” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, a smug look on her face.

“Stop tricking Arthur into letting you see the company files” Tommy pointed a non-threating finger at his youngest sister who only rolled her eyes.

(Y/N) bit her lip in nervousness before she spoke up, “It’s not too expensive, is it? I can remove some stuff if you want!”

Tommy got up from his seat and walked around his desk and leant on it, patting (Y/N) on the head, “It’s not expensive, don’t worry, I was only teasing I’m sorry. You don’t turn eighteen everyday eh?”

“You’re the best Tommy!” (Y/N) leapt up and tightly hugged her brother.

“I know.”

Tommy laughed at (Y/N)’s scoff.

“Any plans for today?” Tommy asked as he went back around his desk and sat back down.

“Ada’s taking me down to London to pick up my dress.”

“Hmm, spending the whole day?”

“I think so. I mean we might as well. Karl and Finn are coming along too so we should be able to find something to do.” (Y/N) made her way to the door.

“Have fun.”

“Will do!” She called over her shoulder as she left his office

It was the day before (Y/N)’s birthday and the clients of Tommy’s that thought they were being scammed have only become an irritant to Shelby brothers, making threats and destroying property has become their form of revenge and attention-grabbing at the moment but none of them could do anything at that moment, all three of them making a promise to their youngest sister not to do anything gang related on the day off or the day before her birthday. (Y/N) desperately not wanting her birthday to be ruined and her brother understood and promised her that they wouldn’t. It was bugging Tommy that he had to wait on retaliating on them but he told himself years ago that his family came above everything else, especially his (Y/N).

On the morning of her birthday, (Y/N) slipped out of her bed and crawled into Tommy’s, his arm automatically wrapping her shoulder as she curled into his side. This was a semi-common occurrence between the two of them, originating from when Tommy started to try and put (Y/N) in her own bed in her own room for the night when she was a year old but it only took a few hours before (Y/N) was climbing out of her bed or Tommy himself took her back to his room. Though it had become less of a thing as (Y/N) grew up as her room was pretty much the only place that she could get peace and quiet and privacy from her wild family. (Y/N)’s room became her sanctuary.

“Good morning, Tommy!” (Y/N) chirped

“G’morning princess.” Tommy lit himself a cigarette, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Here.” Tommy had pulled out a jewellery box from the draw in his bedside table and held it out to her.

“What’s this?” (Y/N) didn’t open the box straight away.

“My gift to you.”

“I thought the party was your gift to me”

“Take the gift (Y/N) or I’ll throw it in the bin.”

“Alright alright, christ almighty.”

(Y/N) slowly opened the box and gasped at what laid inside. It was a diamond necklace, simple yet elegant. Exactly (Y/N)’s style.

“Oh, Tommy. It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“Glad you like it. Now get washed and dressed, I’m still taking you out for brunch.”

(Y/N) quickly kissed his cheek and left his room, not wanting to delay.

After their brunch, (Y/N) spent the rest of the day getting ready for the party and running around fretting about the smallest things, only settling down after a threat from Ada. After several impatient shouts from John and Finn, (Y/N) was finally making her way downstairs to the rest of her family who made of a series of appreciative noises when they saw her, causing her to smile.

“You look wonderful darling.” Polly walked over to her and gave her a hug before leading her outside and towards the Garrison where the party was being held, the rest of the family following behind them.

“How’s your day been so far?” Polly asked her.

“Good! Brunch with Tommy was great as per usual.” (Y/N) grinned.

(Y/N) usually had brunch with Tommy and then dinner with the rest of her family on her birthday but because this year was slightly different, they were doing dinner the next day.

“I’m glad.” Polly patted her hands and they continued their journey with small nonsense chatter, Ada and Esme quickly joining in.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, drinks were being passed around and the music was pounding and as soon as she stepped foot into the pub, (Y/N) was dragged away by her friends, the bunch of them squealing and giggling. Tommy and his brothers were sat on a table tucked away but placed somewhere where they can see pretty much the whole room but despite that, they couldn’t see who had slipped into the pub.

Tommy too deep into conversation with Jeremiah Jesus and one too many drinks deep meant that he didn’t notice that something was up until the music suddenly stopped and screams erupted, and as he looked up to see what was happening, his blood ran cold at what he saw.

His little sister trapped in the arms of the client that was pissed off at him, with his gun held to her temple. The man wasn’t by himself, he had brought along two other men. (Y/N) was frozen in shock, afraid that one small mistake would result in her getting hurt.

Tommy slowly stood up and noticed his brothers and other Peaky Blinders do the same thing, each of them pulling out their guns. They easily outnumbered the three men but that didn’t matter as Tommy’s top priority was (Y/N)’s safety

“Thomas Shelby! We’re tired of being taken advantage of by people like you. We’ll have it no more!” One of the men shouted.

“Okay, alright. I hear you. Let’s talk, okay? But before that, I’m going to need you to let all these people go okay, they’re innocent.” Tommy gestured to people plastered to the walls of the Garrison, (Y/N)’s friends crying.

The man nodded and everyone quickly ran out, the only people left in the pub being Tommy, Arthur, John, Finn, Polly, Ada and Michael.

“Now, let the woman in your arms go. She’s just a teenager.”

The leader was the man holding (Y/N) and hesitated before he stood his ground, “No! If I let her go then you’ll just kill me. I want my money back Shelby!”

Arthur grumbled unhappily and shifted, causing Tommy to hold out his arm in warning.

“If you let her go we won’t.” Tommy placed his gun on the table as a sign of truce, “Just let her go.”

The man slowly nodded and loosened his grip allowing (Y/N) to slip through a take a slow step forward, sobs spilling through her lips. “You’re alright, you’re fine. C’mon.” Tommy held out his arms for (Y/N) and took a step towards her.

“No! Stop letting him win, it’s not fair!” One of the man’s sidemen shouted in rage before a loud bang sounded.

The room was silent as everyone tried to understand what had happened and it was until stuttered gasps left (Y/N) did Tommy understand what had happened.

“No!” Tommy raced over to (Y/N) and caught her in his arms just as her legs buckled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” Tommy slowly lowered himself to ground with her in his arms. (Y/N)’s blood spilling through her dress and on to him.

“(Y/N), n-no p-please. O-oh god no”

(Y/N) let out a soft noise of distress as Tommy harshly pressed on the bullet wound.

“I know precious, I know it hurts but I have to do it.” Tommy didn’t even realise he was crying until (Y/N) gently flinched when a tear fell on her face.

“Polly! Polly help!” Tommy heard the clicking of his aunt’s heels before he felt her pushing his hands away. “Polly-- no I’ve got to help her”

“Tommy, let me check on her okay?” His aunt convinced him to move away so check on (Y/N)

Tommy had been so engrossed with (Y/N) that he had no idea what going elsewhere until a hand on his shoulder brought him out of his trance. It was Arthur and John was right behind him, both had blood splattered on them. Finn was crouched down by (Y/N)’s head softly brushing her hair back as he whispered into her ear, Tommy could see the tears slowly sliding down his face.

“Tommy” His aunt had a defeated look on her face and slowly shook her head.

“No! You’re wrong!” Tommy pushed past his aunt and shoved Finn aside so that he could fully bring (Y/N) into his arms, slowly rocking for side to side, loudly sobbing.

(Y/N) was in too much pain to speak and used the remnants of her energy to squeeze Tommy’s hand as tight as she could before she finally passed.

Tommy felt (Y/N) slightly slump in his arms and knew what had happened, letting a loud cry of pain. Tommy heard the cries and shouts and tears of his family around him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, he was too wrapped up in the pain of his youngest sister that was more like a daughter to him an how her death was his fault.

His darling girl was dead.

#tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #Peaky Blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #imagines #fanfic #angst #shelby sister #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #Tommy Shelby #sister!reader

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 23

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 23 - Child Ghost

Twenty minutes later, each of the three hooligans sat on the bench in the hospital corridor in a daze, each clutching a bottle of fresh orange juice. The nurse had just scolded them for disturbing the rest of the patients in the surrounding rooms, and they all looked a little bit ashamed. A-Yan's face had some colour brought back. After drinking a few sips of the drink, he calmly said: "I c-can't exorcise it completely. I can only figure out the source of this thing. Maybe it's a good thing that it's harder to expel."

Lin Yan asked what he meant, and the little Daoist priest explained: “As the saying goes, 'He who never wrongs others does not fear the knock in the night*.' Although this girl is weak from her illness, there must be other reasons why, out of so many other patients, this thing chose her. If we can find the reason, then maybe it will leave by itself."

*(T/N: 不做亏心事，不怕鬼敲门 - means if you've done nothing wrong, you don't have to worry about any retributions.)

"It-It keeps repeating 'Why haven't you come yet?' It may be a wandering spirit who hasn't fulfilled his dying wish. His Yin energy is very weak. He probably died not that long ago."

Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat. He suddenly thought of Xiao Yu, and couldn't help but reveal his recent doubts to the little Daoist priest. After a long while, he turned his head and looked at the ghost next to him, and whispered: "Last time, I was only concerned about getting rid of him. I never asked him anything."

A-Yan sat curled up in the chair and listened to Lin Yan while gnawing on the cap of the orange juice bottle. He looked like a kitten. He jolted up and said: "Ghosts are divided into different categories. Today, the one here can only manifest by attaching itself to a living person and it will disappear once that person dies. However, the one that follows you is very, very strong."

A-Yan continued: "A ghost has no form at first, but if the soul is resentful and the body is buried in a place where the atmosphere has heavy negative energy, it's very likely to turn into a powerful ghost. A ghost will cultivate for a hundred years with a phantom body and, after a long time, it will develop a real body. When they have a real body, they don’t have to resort to 'bump around' like today, and they can even move around in the daytime without fear of Yang energy. They aren't so much ghosts as they are demons or animals." A-Yan clenched his fingers: " The most difficult evil spirit to deal with is known as the true body of the ten thousand clans. It requires special formations, plus needs to be done at the right time and place, so there's not much room for error. Once a part of the process goes wrong, the exorcist is likely to be drowned by the energy, go insane and instead be harmed by the evil spirit."

"L-Last time the formation was set up, Master made a fake one to fool the ghost, and he found the gap in time he needed. Otherwise, if you wanted to eliminate him, I'm afraid that you would have to gather more than fifteen boys in a Mandarin Duck Formation to have any hope." A-Yan suddenly gave Lin Yan a strange smile: "That was because he had just re-entered the world and was still confused when we tricked him. Now, I'm afraid. . . Brother Lin Yan, at this point, he should have already remembered something, right?"

Lin Yan thought back on all the things that happened at the lecture and the ghost's increasingly human-like behaviour. He was secretly surprised; was this ghost really recovering his memory? He nodded and replied, "He told me lots of things the day of the lecture. He can talk, just not very much."

A-Yan smiled nervously: "Y-Your four-pillar pure Yin is the most suitable alignment to feed ghosts. The longer he follows you, the more physical he'll become, and the more he'll remember."

"But. . ." A-Yan looked into the distance with a glaze in his eyes, his fingers tightly squeezed the drink bottle. He turned back and grinned at Lin Yan: "Be very careful."

"All I can say is that every action has a reaction, and I can't help you with anything at that point."

He didn’t know why, but Lin Yan felt that the way the little Daoist priest spoke seemed to imply something. Feeding ghosts. . . Lin Yan harshly inhaled the hospital’s air mixed with the smell of disinfectant and frowned. “Let's not talk about it. We have to save A-Zhou's cousin first and figure out the reason for the possession. Do you have to find out who the deceased is first?"

A-Yan nodded. Yin Zhou held his glasses, a little confused: "We don't have much time left. Dozens of people die in hospitals every month. We don't have time to go through each of them individually."

Lin Yan sighed: "That's no other option. Go and pull up the records of everyone who's died recently in the hospital. Maybe there's a clue somewhere."

After all, there were several people now that were exhausted from the attempted exorcism, paralyzed on the bench and not wanting to move. Lin Yan discreetly adjusted his position. Xiao Yu suddenly walked over to him, squatted down and grabbed his knees with both hands.

Lin Yan turned his face and snorted. "Weren't you ignoring me?"

Xiao Yu didn't answer. He gently lowered his head and put the side of his face on Lin Yan's knees, long hair cascading behind him like a waterfall. Lin Yan instinctively wanted to reach out his hand to touch his head, then he thought that he was probably still angry, so he put on an indifferent air and cold expression, not acknowledging him.

After a while, Xiao Yu raised his head. He pressed his hands firmly against Lin Yan's legs, stood up, turned and walked further down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Lin Yan asked in a low voice. Seeing that he didn't answer, he had to follow a few steps behind. Xiao Yu quietly returned to the door of Xiao Yang's room and went straight through the door panel. Lin Yan was full of doubts. Peeking carefully through the door glass, he saw that Xiao Yang's mother was tired from crying and was sitting on the side of the bed, dozing off with her arms propping up her forehead. The girl, on the other hand, waited by the window again in the same manner as when Lin Yan had first arrived.

Xiao Yu walked to the girl's back and patted her shoulder lightly. What happened next left Lin Yan dumbfounded. The girl with her rolled-back eyes turned around and quietly "looked" at Xiao Yu, showing a normal human on her face for the first time. The corners of her mouth were pulled downward, a look of aggravation painted clearly on her face. Xiao Yu was tall, so he simply squatted in front of the girl and stroked her hair very softly. They were talking, and Lin Yan's eyes widened. Although he could not hear them, their expressions and slightly moving lips convinced him that they were indeed communicating in a language he didn't understand.

The little Daoist priest and Yin Zhou also followed at this time. They curiously holding the windowpane and looking in. They couldn't help but be shocked by the girl's appearance now.

"She's talking to herself?" Yin Zhou was surprised: "What's she saying?"

"Mortuary language." The little Daoist said in a deep voice. "The language used in ancient rituals to communicate with the dead."

Lin Yan looked at the harmonious picture in the room, unconsciously picking at the crack of the door. He grit his teeth and indignantly thought you're Xiao Yu. At home, you're fierce and want to kill me, yet you go talk to a young girl with such a tender look. You just look at such a pretty young girl that I don’t want to let it go. Zhu Xi's Neo-Confucianist teachings have really gone to the dogs. It’s useless for you to think about it. I decided ages ago. When she's a few years older, I'll take her to watch movies and visit the amusement park. Let's see what you can do. . .

"Hey? Are you going to follow him inside?" Yin Zhou patted Lin Yan on his shoulder. Lin Yan had been distracted internally cursing Xiao Yu, and he was so frightened that the hairs on his neck stood on end.

"Holy shit, when did you get here? Were you trying to scare me to death by keeping quiet?!" Lin Yan grumbled, clutching his heart.

"Did you really not hear me talking so loudly before?!" Yin Zhou said in surprise: ". . . Why are you blushing?"

A-Yan smiled and gave Lin Yan a deep look, not making a sound.

The conversation in the room seemed to be over. Xiao Yu stood up. He leaned over and rubbed the top of the girl's head and walked out. Xiao Yang reluctantly turned and stood by the window again. Lin Yan gritted his teeth and waited outside. He internally decided he wouldn't fall for any more of his tricks considering he seemed to do them with anyone. . .

Xiao Yu had already returned to stand in front of him while he was distracted. Lin Yan turned his face away from him in anger, but Xiao Yu didn't care. He took out the memo and the soft-tip fountain pen Lin Yan had bought from his pocket and began to write.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Yin Zhou looked at the pen and paper hanging in the air and stared in shock.

Xiao Yu shoved the note into Lin Yan's hand, then retreated to stand behind him. Lin Yan looked down. The light green note had two lines written on it. The first line was a series of capitalized numbers: "Three-Five-One-Zero-Zero-Four." The second line was a sentence: "He's waiting for his father."

"Father?" Yin Zhou looked at the words on the note and suddenly clapped his hands: "Hey, I got it, no wonder it came to Xiao Yang. Xiao Yang's mother is a single parent. My uncle passed away last year. I came to the hospital to watch her overnight last week and heard her say she missed her dad and it felt like he was still there with her. . . Then what does that row of numbers mean?"

Lin Yan was also puzzled holding the note. When he asked Xiao Yu, he shook his head and didn't speak. Lin Yan couldn't help muttering, "What the hell? You touched her head and smiled for a long time without asking anything. . . It’s not because the little girl looks good..."

"A g-ghost's memories are incomplete. They can only remember what they want. It would be nice if they can remember the numbers." A-Yan suddenly opened his mouth, his eyes sharply focused towards Lin Yan. Lin Yan's face grew hot, and he hurriedly lowered his head to cover it up. He explained to him that he was searching for people, why did his mind take such a strange turn. . .

That being said, why did he always get distracted by a dead person? This isn't going to work, no. Lin Yan secretly squeezed his fist.

Yin Zhou saw that the two of them were acting strangely. He crossed his hands behind his head and looked around in the corridor. When he saw the computer in front of the nurse on duty at the staircase, his eyes suddenly lit up, and he whistled frivolously: "Look, dude. Time for some fun."

With Lin Yan's girl-pleasing good looks and Yin Zhou's series of honeyed compliments, the three stooges quickly got their hands on the nurse's sister's computer. Yin Zhou stared at the screen intently. His fingers flew across the keyboard and the mouse clicked rapidly. After 15 minutes, the corners of his mouth stretched upward. His whole body suddenly leaned back in the swivel chair. He squinted his eyes and exclaimed: "Done. Turns out the info comes from this hospital. Makes it much more convenient not having to check other systems."

Lin Yan leaned in front of the computer, and the homepage showed: "351004, Zhou Jintian, male, 11 years old, died on May 11. Cause of death: internal organ rupture causing extensive abdominal hemorrhaging." A scanned copy of the body claim form was attached below. In the lower right corner where the family members signed, the family name was written in two large characters: "Zhou Mo" with a small red seal next to it.

"From the deceased's information from the database, this line of numbers is the bed number from the morgue." Yin Zhou touched his head: "This ghost is a child. No wonder he's standing by the window all the time, waiting for his father to pick him up from school."

Lin Yan took a picture of the page with his phone. He smiled and pushed the back of Yin Zhou's head: "Good job."

At the spicy and sour noodle shop across from the hospital.

Lin Yan always disliked eating near hospitals. He always feels that there were grieving patients’ families and infectious bacteria floating everywhere, but these spicy and sour noodles were particularly famous. Lin Yan drove the car for a while, and after a lengthy internal struggle, he turned back. Lin Yan scooped a spoonful of spicy soup and was satisfied that a delicious dinner was definitely worth it.

The little Daoist priest left for a shift in the restaurant where he worked. Yin Zhou stayed in the hospital to see the patient and verify the information. Lin Yan sat alone at the snack bar, a greasy orange plastic table with two bowls of spicy and sour noodles in front of him. One was placed in front of him, and the other was pushed to the opposite side. The "person" only he could see was sitting in the opposite chair with his face turned sideways in a daze. It seems that the ghost really didn't need to eat. Lin Yan sighed and asked in a low voice: "You don't eat or sleep, you follow me every day, aren't you tired?"

Xiao Yu ignored him. His slender fingers propped up his chin, and the outline of his side face looked very beautiful in the dimming daylight. The table was near the window, and the warm yellow halo of the street lamp brushed over the bridge of his nose. His skin looked as fine as porcelain. It felt like porcelain too, icy cold.

Things were still awkward.

"Excuse me, can I borrow the chair? We don't have enough." A childish male voice sounded and Lin Yan raised his head. A boy dressed as a high school student was holding the back of Xiao Yu's chair. He saw Lin Yan looked confused and pointed to the boys and girls chatting at a large table next door. The girls were wearing heavy makeup, the boys wearing ear studs, their school uniforms covered in black and blue pen doodles. There were so many people in the store that they were missing several chairs.

"Someone's using it." Lin Yan replied quietly.

"I know you've been sitting here for a while, no one's there." The boy was unyielding.

"If I say someone's there, someone's there, and if they aren't there now, they will be later." Lin Yan was a little impatient.

"Nutjob, it's just a chair, why so angry?" The boy muttered. Before leaving, he rolled his eyes at Lin Yan.

"Sorry." Lin Yan mumbled to the boy's back. He wasn't sure why. No one could see Xiao Yu, which always made him a little anxious. Lin Yan hesitated and for the first time took the initiative to reach out and touch Xiao Yu's statue-like fingers and whispered, "It's lonely, isn't it? Of all the people in the world, I'm the only one who can see you and I treat you badly."

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei #danmei novel #bl novel

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gaylotusthatexists · 4 years

Text

lost and returned

fandom: sanders sides

pairing: brotherly creativitwins

prompt: missing and presumed dead

trigger warnings: sympathetic remus, injuries, talk of death, drowning mention, past bad family relations, being kicked out

word count: 1942

taglist: @theloveliestsweetspongy

a/n: hey! so it’s been a while since i did one of these haha. i remembered about this the other day and looked over my card and was hit with sudden inspiration, so here we are :) hope y’all enjoy this~ (requests for any prompt that hasn’t been done yet are still open btw) this is written for the @badthingshappenbingo

ao3

It had been five years since Remus disappeared into the night. Roman had given up hope four years ago.

At first he thought that Remus might come back, no matter how many times his parents said he wouldn’t. He wanted Remus to come back, he missed his brother so much. Even if Remus was mean to him sometimes, that’s just what brothers were like. Even if his parents always said that Remus was just a hassle, that Remus was better off gone.

Roman wondered sometimes what it would be like if he were the one to disappear. Would his parents think the same of him as they did Remus? Surely not, they always said that they loved Roman. They never really said that about Remus.

He remembered the moment he gave up hope as clear as day. A body had been found in the river near their house, a teenage boy, the same age as Remus would have been, a similar description as well. His parents never said anything about it, but Roman noticed that weird, regretful look pass over their faces whenever it was mentioned, and the way they always told Roman to stay away from the river, to stay safe.

Occasionally Roman would go out and look, when his parents weren’t around. He never found Remus, or even a body - he supposed the body would have been taken away anyway, but a part of him hoped that maybe Remus had made it out. He knew that was stupid, impossible, but...

He just wanted his brother back.

Five years later, and Roman had moved out, moved in with a couple friends. He’d almost forgotten about Remus, about the boy who had supposedly drowned, mostly gotten over his lost twin. Remus was dead, most likely - if not in reality, in Roman’s mind at least.

So, when Remus showed up on Roman’s doorstep, soaking wet and drenched in blood, his reaction was perfectly reasonable. A scream, a slammed door, and a horrified expression.

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked, immediately rushing into the hallway. Roman had sunk down to the floor, holding his head in his hands and trying to push that image out. Surely that hadn’t been real, right? It must have been a ghost, and... ghosts weren’t real, he must have just imagined it.

But then someone knocked on the door again, and Roman couldn’t say that wasn’t happening. He breathed in and out as Patton went to answer the door instead, Roman shuffling to the side and craning his neck to look at the person on the other side. Not his brother, surely not his brother.

“Oh, uh-“ Patton plastered on a smile. “I don’t- Are you okay?”

“Roman lives here, right?” the person said. He sounded exactly like Remus, looked exactly like Remus, and Roman was terrified.

“Yes, um-“ Patton glanced down at Roman, then back up at the Remus lookalike. “Do you want to come in? Or, uh, I don’t know, let us drive you to the hospital, or something?”

Not-Remus’ eyes widened and he shook his head, long hair falling in front of his eyes, sticking to his skin. Remus’ hair hadn’t been that long the last time Roman had saw him, and this person had a silver strip, which Remus did not have, so perhaps this wasn’t Remus after all.

Patton just blinked. “No to coming inside, or no to the hospital?”

“Hospital,” Not-Remus clarified.

Patton gave him a soft smile. “Ok. Well, uh, just come on in, I’ll go get Logan to patch you up. Roman, take him to the front room, will you?” Before Roman had chance to protest, Patton had moved further into the house.

He really did look like Remus. Older, less innocent, damaged, but Remus nonetheless. And Roman wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Not-Remus said. “I- You are Roman, right? My brother?”

“My... name is Roman, yes.” He didn’t want to admit that he was his brother, because this was not Remus. Remus was long gone, and nothing would change that. Still, he slowly stood up, and began to lead Not-Remus into the front room, where he allowed him to sit down on the sofa. He looked defeated, tired, and Roman couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders were shaking. “What’s- What’s your name?” Roman asked, hoping that he wouldn’t say Remus, anything other than Remus. He’d rather have some old one-night-fling show up than his long lost twin who was supposed to be dead.

“You’re joking, right?” was all Not-Remus said in response. Roman tried his best to breath. “It’s Remus. You know. Your brother.”

Roman shook his head. “No. No - my- my brother died four years ago.”

Not-Remus frowned. “Did I? Shit, really?”

Roman’s eyes fell to the floor. “I-“

“I don’t feel like I’ve died.” He hummed. “Hey, if I’m dead and a ghost now, do you think I can walk through walls? That’d be fucking awesome.”

“You’re...” Roman breathed in. “Tell me something only Remus would know.”

There was a long pause, before Remus grinned. “We found a salamander once in the river behind our house, and you kept it in our room for, like, two weeks before we had to get rid of it before Dad found out. We named him Sir Sala of Waterlogs. He was bright orange and enjoyed eating flies, although I’m not actually sure if it was supposed to do that. We tried feeding it Doritos one time but that did not go well.”

Roman felt like he was about to cry. No one else would know about that, so unless Remus had told someone (which was unlikely, Remus had just as little friends as Roman did) this was the real deal. He slowly made his way over, sitting down besides Remus and holding out his arms, checking to see if Remus was okay with a hug. He’d always been okay with hugs, always craved them, but Roman had always made sure as well, just in case. Remus sank into his arms, just as he always did when they were younger, and Roman failed to stop himself from crying.

He soon drew away from Remus, though, who wasn’t smiling like Roman was. He looked... sad. Defeated. And Roman didn’t know what to do with that.

“What happened?” Roman found himself asking, moving away a little.

Remus breathed in. His shoulders were still shaking, even worse than before. “Too much.” He didn’t seem willing to go much further into it.

Eventually, Patton returned with Logan, who, whilst a little confused, went to clean up Remus’ injuries - they were as bad as they looked, just a few small cuts on his shoulders and face, which Logan quickly bandaged up. There wasn’t much they could do about anything else, though - the bags under his eyes, the light fading from his once bright eyes, the way he bounced his legs and clenched his fists. Something had happened, someone had hurt him, and Roman wanted to know who, so that he could go over there and murder them.

“May I ask what happened?” Logan eventually asked, breaking the silence and causing Remus to stop moving. He glanced over at Roman, fear in his eyes, and maybe things were even worse than Roman thought. He’d never seen Remus look so afraid.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Roman told Logan.

Logan moved his eyes over to Roman. “Can you, then?”

Roman thought for a moment. “He’s my brother. Remus. I, uh, he disappeared five years ago, I don’t- I don’t know what happened, he’s not telling me either.”

“Brother?” Patton repeated, frowning.

“Disappeared?” Remus also repeated, sounding... shocked.

Roman just blinked. “Yeah? I- I searched for you for ages, but you never showed up. And our parents refused to even talk about you. Like, it was like you’d never even existed.”

Remus scowled. “That’s because they fucking kicked me out.”

They... what? “I-“

“Did you not know that?”

Roman shook his head. “No. You- You just disappeared. They never... They never said anything like that. Why would they do that?”

Remus laughed. “Seriously? Why wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t know.” Roman stared down at his knees, pulling his legs up onto the sofa. “You were fifteen.”

Remus stayed silent. He lost his smile, face moulding into an unreadable expression.

“Where have you been all these years?” Roman asked, now more... scared, for his brother. He wanted to know that he had been safe. Needed to know he was safe.

“Around,” Remus replied. “I... I was living with some friends for a while, then... uh, some more people. And then, I...” He trailed off.

There was silence for a while, and Roman didn’t want to make Remus share anymore than he was comfortable with. Yes, he wanted to know what had happened, but... Remus could tell him in his own time.

“Who did this to you?” Roman asked instead, gesturing towards Remus’ injuries.

Remus shook his head, biting back tears. “I don’t know. I was... I don’t know. I got hurt and this was the only place I could go to.”

Roman breathed in and out, trying to take that in. He had a feeling that Remus was lying, but didn’t say anything about it. “How did you even know that I was here? I haven’t talked to you for years, Remus.”

Remus gulped. “I saw you walking around here a few weeks ago. S-Saw you coming in here. I didn’t want to say anything to you because... I-I don’t know, I was scared that you’d hate me just as much as... as...” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Roman had a terrible feeling that he meant to say their parents.

“You’re here now,” Patton said, softly. He reached a hand out to Remus knee and patted it gently, to which Remus broke out a small smile. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

Silence again. Roman glanced around the room. “Could you leave us for a moment, please?” he asked his housemates. They both nodded, and left the room. He turned back to Remus, who had once again lost his smile. “Are you okay?”

Remus shook his head.

“Can I... do anything about that?”

He paused, then shook his head again.

“Okay.” Roman breathed in. “Are you in danger?”

Remus snorted. “When am I not?”

Okay, that was just a little concerning, but Roman tried not to think too much about it. Remus had always been somewhat chaotic as a kid, always getting into trouble and making a mess of things, so perhaps things just hadn’t changed that much. Yeah.

“Are you... sure that I can stay here?” Remus asked, his voice quiet.

Roman’s face softened. “Of course.” He scooted closer. “Why wouldn’t I let you?”

Remus shrugged. “Most people don’t let me stay long. And- And, I don’t know. You never tried to stop me from leaving before.”

“Because I didn’t know,” Roman defended. “I looked for you, really. Every day I was out searching for you, but I could never find you. I- I was always so confused about why our parents were never looking for you.”

Remus stopped breathing for a second, before breathing out. “Please don’t tell them I’m here.”

“I won’t,” Roman promised. “Trust me, I haven’t spoken to them in ages.”

“Good.” Remus looked over at him, his eyes now beginning to fill with hope. Things were going to be okay. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay.” He opened his arms again, and Remus moved into the hug, relaxing in his brother’s arms as Roman began to run his fingers in circles on his upper arm, just below the bandages. “You’re okay.”

#bad things happen bingo #missing and presumed dead #thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #logan sanders #patton sanders #my fanfic #my writing

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mlovesstories · 3 years

Text

His Thoughts on Therapy Part 1

Summary: Dean is forced to go to therapy. He doesn’t want to, but he ends up meeting a friend.

Warnings: Dean being emotional because of the fire, therapy, car issues, cussing

Words: 2600

Dean x reader!platonic

Sam x reader!platonic

Dean x therapist!Dr. Sky

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Go.” Sam growled. “Or I’ll take you there myself!”

Dean has made a bet of sorts with Sam. If his drinking became more frequent, Sam was going to be in charge of buying the beer and Dean would have to go to a therapist. They had experienced a lot, and they both knew that. Sam could see Dean fading, so he laid down the law, and Dean was not cooperating.

“I’ll pour all the beer down the drain right now if you don’t go to your appointment. It’s in twenty minutes.” He was toward the fridge.

“OKAY!” Dean stood up quickly and grabbed his keys. “Don’t touch what beer I have left.” He groaned.

“Bye!” Sam sighed, happy he won the argument.

Dean went to his therapist for a few sessions. He was very saddened when he saw that she was older than him and not his type. Dean did not want to be there, and it showed. He liked her, but he was not the ‘spill his guts’ type of person. His therapist made an off comment about her mom passing, and Dean’s heart dropped.

“My mom is gone too,” he said sadly.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Dean.” She frowned.

“Yeah, it was a while ago. It’s fine.”

“You’re really good at not really dealing with anything, are you?” The doctor said seriously.

“What gave it away? My sarcasm, deflection, or self-preservation?” He grinned. “Look, doc,” Dean sighed. “My mom died when I was four. My dad told me to get Sam, so I got my brother out before the fire engulfed the stairs. Dad was fine, but my mom didn’t come out of the house with him.”

“Wow,” the doctor said, almost judgingly.

“What? My story not good enough for you? I got more if you-” Dean raised his voice in defense.

“No, Dean,” she put a hand up asking him to calm down. “What I meant was that just from that one story you’ve told me, it tells me a lot about you.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Like what?”

“You grew up a lot that night. I’d put my money on you as the protector and preserver of the family. You probably blame your dad for your mom’s death in a way.”

“Woah, my dad-”

“I’m sorry. That was very forward of me.” She frowned again.

“I was in charge of Sammy, and he was supposed to get Mom. He didn’t. End of story.”

“Mhmm.” Doctor Sky eyed him.

“Okay, I’m done,” Dean stood and put the pillows back where they were placed at the beginning of the session. “I’m done with you psychoanalyzing me.” He stormed out. She didn’t chase after him. The oldest Winchester walked down the steps to the parking lot. Sitting in the Impala, Dean froze, not understanding his emotions. All of a sudden, he realized he had hiccups.

Why am I crying? I don’t cry!

But there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

YN was late for her appointment. She quickly walked from her car and ran up the stairs to the door she needed to enter. An hour later, she noticed a car in the same spot that it was in when she had arrived. Dean sat blankly in Baby, not seeing YN approaching. She saw tear stains on his face and his eyes puffy.

“Here,” she said, her hand extended with tissues, offering them to him. Dean jumped. “Sorry. Thought you could use them is all. Have a good day.” YN walked toward her car when he heard him call for her. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Dean was surprised by the interaction. No questions about why he was acting the way he was. He appreciated it since he was, once again, not a ‘spill-the beans’ type of a person.

The next time he saw his therapist, he apologized for his actions. Dean himself was surprised he even went back, but he knew he needed to or Sam would not buy him any drinks.

“Let’s talk about something else today. Other than your mom, how was it growing up? Are you and your little brother still close?”

“Sammy and I live together. He’s a lawyer, I’m a mechanic. I can’t afford a house, so he lets me rent a room. He’s taller, but I’m cooler,” Dean laughed, and so did the doctor. “Growing up, my dad was gone a lot. He had to run the shop pretty much by himself. I had to take care of Sammy.”

“You’re still very connected with him, that’s very nice to hear. A lot of clients don’t have healthy family relationships if I’m being honest.”

“We’re all we got, I guess.”

“Do you get along with your father? Does he still run the shop?”

Dean winced.

“Am I missing something?” She asked, sincere.

“He passed away a few years ago. A car was on the lift, one of the arms broke. He pushed me out of the way. He didn’t make it.”

“Wow, Dean. That’s a lot.”

“Yeah. My brother has dealt with it better than I have. He exercises regularly, I... “ he stopped himself. “I don’t make healthy choices.” Dean laughed. “I drink sometimes. Sammy said if I continued, I needed to see a therapist. So, here I am.” Dean looked up from his fingers nervously running over a couch pillow placed on his lap.

“Good for you.”

“Huh?” He was confused.

“For seeking help. You’ve been through a lot, Dean. I have something I want you to try. Can you draw?”

“I used to draw my own comics as a kid.”

“Perfect. Here,” his therapist reached in her drawer and pulled out a sketch pad. “Use this. In two weeks, I want you have completed a scenario from your own life where you were hurt. But remember that you’re the comic book hero in this.”

Dean’s face dropped.

“If you want me to read it, I will. If not, that’s okay too.”

Dean relaxed.

“Okay,” he followed her lead as she stood and led him to the door.

“Great. You did wonderful today, and I’m so happy to have you as a client, Dean. Have a wonderful day.”

Dean passed someone on the steps as he walked down to his car. He heard sniffles. Dean turned and found the girl he had seen previously.

“Hey, tissues.” he smirked at his nickname for her. She startled and looked at him. “You okay, kid?” He saw bruises on her arm. When she realized they were noticeable, she adjusted her sleeve.

“Yeah, just got robbed. I’m okay,” she shrugged, trying to keep the tears away.

“Shit, kid. Let me see,” Dean walked toward her, but she recoiled. Forgetting how large he was compared to her, he didn’t realize how he came across. He put his hands up. “Just trying to repay the favor from the other day. Promise I’m not here to hurt you.” Dean slowly sat down on the steps next to her. He was surprised at her openness and trust level. YN pulled her sleeves up to her elbows. She had a few scrapes, but she looked to be okay. “Looks like you need some tissues this time,” Dean grinned. She smiled. “I’m Dean.”

“YN.”

“Are you here with your parents or someone who can help you?”

“I don’t have anybody in this town. Going to college here for the first semester.”

“Eighteen?”

“Twenty. Transferred from a junior college.” She looked at her phone. “Shit. I”m late for my session. Thanks, Dean. See you around.”

“Bye, Tissues.” Dean grinned.

“Whatever, asshole,” she retorted, returning his expression.

Dean kept thinking about his interactions with YN. He felt bad for her that she was so young and on her own. Obviously smart and cared for her mental health, but he somehow felt protective of her.

“Kid?” Dean saw her in the grocery store. She turned.

“Hi Dean. How are you?”

“I’m good. Uh. This is my brother, Sam.”

“Hi,” Sam extended his hand and shook hers.

“Damn, they make you guys big.” YN giggled. “You from Texas or something?”

“Nah, right here,” Dean laughed. “Hey, you doing better today?” He leaned in closer so that others wouldn’t hear.

“Much, thanks.”

“Here, take my number, and you can call us if you need anything.” He ripped off part of his grocery list and wrote his cell phone number on it.

“Are you sure?” YN gasped at his sweetness.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I need to go, but thanks, boys. I appreciate it, really.”

“Not a problem,” Sam said. “I’m hungry, let’s go, dude.”

“So what was that about? You don’t just hand your number out to people these days.” Sam looked up at his brother that evening at dinner.

“Nothing. She’s a kid and she needs help sometimes just like we all do. She told me outside the therapy office that she doesn’t have anyone here because she’s going to KU, not from here. YN is down on her luck, that’s all.”

“You’re not asking her-”

“Eww! No. Gross.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam leaned back. “Just trying to understand.

“She was black and blue the other day, Sammy. You would have done the same thing.”

“Whatever, dude.”

A few days later, Dean heard his phone go off in the middle of the night.

“What?” He groaned, sleepy.

“Dean, it’s YN… from therapy.”

His eyes widened and his senses were alert.

“What’s wrong?” Dean immediately sat up in bed, concerned.

“I got stuck in the road. I heard you were a mechanic? Do you happen to have a tow truck? My starter is shot because of the storm and mud or whatever. I’ll pay you for it, but can you help me?”

Dean heard the waver in her voice.

“Where are you?”

She told him the cross streets, and he told her he would be there in fifteen minutes.

“You’re on the side of the road, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay in your car, you don’t need to be stranded AND wet from the storm. You’ll be okay. I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

When she saw a large truck getting closer, she flashed her head lights and tail lights at him. Dean pulled in front of her car. Getting out, he motioned for her to get into his vehicle.

“The heat is on, stay warm! There are blankets in the back. I’m going to put your front tires on the back of my truck and then we can go. Just give me a few!” Dean shouted over the rain pouring.

“Okay!” YN ran to get into the warm vehicle. She looked over her shoulder and saw flannel blankets on the floorboard.

Ten minutes later, Dean came inside. Soaked from the storm, he tried to warm up by putting his sleeves next to the vents.

“Here,” YN grabbed an extra blanket. She motioned for him to lean his head toward her. YN ran the blanket through his hair to get the excess water off. “Take your shirt off, it’s sopping wet.”

“I’m okay.” He smiled, thanking her for thinking of him.

“You’ll catch a cold, it’s fine.” She waited until he complied. “Wrap this around you,” YN offered him the blanket.

“Thanks,” he sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

After agreeing that he would take her car to the shop in the morning, he told her good night.

“Tissues!” He yelled through the noise of the storm. She turned. “I’ll give you an update tomorrow. Don’t worry about it, okay? Go dry off!”

“Okay!” YN hurried into her apartment before stripping off her clothes and blow drying her hair. Retrieving her pajamas from the dryer, she settled in for the night.

Thank God for that Winchester guy.

“Hi Dean,” YN answered the phone the next evening.

“Hey Tissues! Your car is at the shop. We’ve got a starter for you. You’ll have it back tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s usually one hundred, but it was an easy job, so don’t worry about it.”

“You came and got me at 2am, brought me home, and then fixed my car. AND YOU DON’T WANT ANYTHING FOR IT?”

“How about you buy me and the guys two pizzas? ‘That fair?”

“Oh my gosh. Dean, yes. Thank you!” YN squealed into the phone.

“I’ll call you when it’s done, okay?”

“Thanks, Dean!”

Dean checked on her every few weeks after that. Dean tried harder in therapy, realizing the value of it as he attended more sessions.

“YN told me what you did for her. How did that make you feel?”

“Good, I guess. She needed some help, and I could help her. She doesn’t think I’m a creep or something, right? I could be her dad, I was just trying to be nice.” Dean sputtered out.

“I think it’s fine, Dean.” The doctor laughed. “What I mean is that you gave of yourself when you didn’t have to.”

“I guess.”

Dean texted YN that night and asked if she needed anything.

YN: Nope, thanks, Winchester.

Dean: No problem, T.

YN: When are you going to stop with the ‘Tissues’ thing?

Dean: You don’t like it?

YN: Dork.

Dean: Whatever.

“I’m not going! I don’t feel good!”

“You’re not sick. So help me, I will dump that whole six pack down the drain if you don’t go to therapy today!” Sam chased after his brother.

“I’m- she makes me think, and I don’t like it!”

Sam chuckled.

“That’s her job, asshole.”

“Shut up. Fine. I’m going. You better not touch my beer.”

“Hi, Dean.” YN passed him after her session with their therapist. “How are you?”

“Not today, kid.” He ran past her and let the door slam as he entered the suite.

“Damn. Whatever, Winchester.”

“What’s going on today, Dean?” His therapist got comfortable in her chair.

“I’m fine,” he shrugged.

“Is that why everything you’ve done while in my office has included sudden movements? And maybe the reason you sound like an elephant stomping around?” She raised a brow.

“Doc, I don’t want to be here, okay?”

“You’re only here because of Sam, yeah, I got that. What’s going on? No therapy talk, just a conversation.”

I don’t know. Okay? I’ve been a mess since I’ve been coming to see you, and I don’t know why. I also don’t like it.”

“Ah. So then why are you still here? Other than your brother making you? There has to be something else.” Doctor Sky at him squarely.

“I’ve never felt like this before. I’m an emotional mess and yet it feels good…? Is that weird?” Dean readjusted his sitting position on the office couch.

“That makes perfect sense. You’re exploring parts of your life that you haven’t in a long time, Dean. It feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?”

“Odd, I think is a better word for it.” Dean huffed. “I hate being here, but I feel better about everything too.”

“That’s not at all a surprise to me, Dean.” She pulled out a pen and wrote a note to herself. :THat shows growth. I think you’ve grown.”

“I guess.”

“Did you write in your comic book?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Dean pulled it out from his large back pocket. He tried to hand it to her. Before reaching for it, she tilted her head.

“I gave you the option of not sharing it with me. Are you sure you want to?”

He extended it further.

“Did you enjoy putting your comic together?” His therapist flipped through a few pages and then looked up at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say it was fun, but I would rather do that than write it out.” Dean shrugged.

“Noted. So I see in here you depicted the fire.”

“And the time I had to take Sammy to the emergency room on my bike because he broke his arm,” he grinned at the memory.

“Oh my.” Dr. Sky smiled. “Sounds like a story for another time. Please keep using this, I think it will be beneficial to you. When you need a new one, let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m very proud of you for sticking this out. I think we should talk about some coping skills for you.”

“Come on, doc.” Dean adjusted his jacket on his shoulders, showing his uncomfortableness.

“You’re showing new emotions, you need to know what to do with them, don’t you think?” His therapist put her notebook to the side.

“Do you enjoy physical activity, sports, watching TV?”

“All of the above.”

“When you start to feel out of control, use one of those. It’s good to feel emotions, and it’s healthy, but don’t let your mind stay there.”

“Makes sense.”

“You’re doing great, Dean. Keep up the good work.”

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012

@percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero @skylarraker

@seality @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname

@internationalmusicteacher @mersuperwholocked-lowlife

@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99

@mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 @supernatural3002 *

* @breereadsthings *

@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018

@miraclesoflove @myopiamystical @fallen-wolf22

@waywardnewcomer

@marvelouslysherlockedhunter @miss-nerd95 @akshi8278

#supernatural #SupernaturalAU #mlovesstorieshisthoughtsontherapy #mlovesstories #dean winchester #dean x reader!platonic #Sam Winchester #sam x reader!platonic

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chachkayes · 3 years

Text

Double Trouble

So... I wrote a spontaneous sister fic to @herrera-n-hayes ‘s newest fic post “The Four of Us”, where Amelia tells Link that they’re expecting baby number 2 on Christmas eve. Go read it first before this one! Link here. I got SUPER inspired to write a part 2 for it, where Amelia and link reveal to everyone else that they’re expecting, and this fic is that. It is quite possibly one of the fluffiest fics I’ve ever written. Many tears of happiness are shed in it. I love a good Christmas fic, and I have another Merhayes Christmas fic that I’ll be working on throughout the week. Anyways, enjoy!

“Wait, so what time are you guys coming over again?” Meredith asked her sisters in a group phone call. It was the evening of Christmas Day, and the sisters had made it tradition to have Christmas together as one large family ever since Scout was born. “Uh… I think we planned on heading over around 5pm? Right, Link?” Amelia asked her fiancé. “Yep. We’ll see you all soon.” Link’s voice rang through Mer’s phone. “Maggie, what about you?” Meredith asked her younger sister. “Oh, um, sorry! We were just packing some stuff into the car. We’re heading out in a few minutes.” Maggie replied. “Alright, well I’ll let you guys go then. I’ll see you soon!” And with that, Meredith hung up and headed downstairs to her children waiting impatiently for their aunts and uncles to arrive so they could open more presents. Luckily, Austin and Liam were quite content to sit in their rooms and play their new video games until their dad and Meredith called them down. Christmas was always an incredibly hectic time in the Hayes/Grey household, but Meredith and Cormac loved it.

Not long after, Maggie and Winston finally showed up at Meredith and Cormac’s house. Meredith and Maggie hugged once they got inside, as did Cormac and Winston. Everyone settled in and Maggie listened intently to the stories that her nieces and nephew were explaining to her. Their stories were certainly much more coherent now that they were 8, 11, and 14 – but they were still mostly nonsensical. Winston and Cormac brought in all the presents from the couple’s car. The kids got incredibly excited whenever they saw a big box with their name on it.

Just as all the adults had finally sat down and were talking, Amelia, Link, and Scout pulled into the driveway. “Ladies, it’s your turn this time.” Winston said with a chuckle as Meredith and Maggie stood up to meet Amelia and Link at their car. Link helped Scout out of his car seat and lead him inside while Meredith, Amelia, and Maggie gathered up every single present and brought them all in, in one trip. Scout happily greeted his uncles and then moved on to playing with his cousins. Cormac got up and walked over to the bottom of the stairs. “Austin, Liam, everyone is here!” He called for his sons, who quickly came downstairs and sat on the couch with the rest of the adults. Link and Amelia, and Winston and Maggie always got the boys something every year. They were family, after all.

45 minutes later and almost every present had been unwrapped, squealed over by the children, and ripped forcefully out of the boxes if it could be. There were only a few small gifts left to open. Maggie picked up two small boxes and handed them to Meredith and Amelia. “Oh, it’s got both of our names on it!” Amelia said as she smiled at Link. “Same here.” Meredith mentioned as Cormac wrapped his arm around her shoulder. As discreetly as he could, Winston began recording. Mer and Amelia quickly unwrapped the small boxes and opened the lid – each box revealing a positive pregnancy test. “Oh my god.” Cormac said with a laugh. “MAGGIE!” Amelia squealed in delight. “Are you serious?!” Meredith said, her jaw on the floor. “Is… are you guys completely serious?” She repeated, her voice breaking. “Totally serious. I’ve been trying not to cry all day.” Maggie responded as she wiped tears away from her eyes. “Oh my god.” Meredith said, standing up to hug her sister. “Oh my god!” Amelia repeated, doing the same. At this point, all three women were laughing and crying. “Aye, congrats man. I’m happy for you.” Cormac said, hugging Winston. “Same here.” Link said, joining the hug fest.

After what felt like a lifetime, everyone sat back down. Meredith leaned her head on her boyfriend’s chest, still sniffling and wiping away tears. “Wait, so have you told Richard yet?” Amelia asked, snuggling into Link. “No, not yet. I was planning on telling him tomorrow night during dinner.” Meredith smiled as another tear fell down her cheek. “Why are momma and aunties sad?” Scout said to Link, as he looked at his aunts and his mother, who were all tearing up. Everyone laughed at the young boy’s observations. “Oh, sweetie, we’re not crying cause we’re sad. We’re happy, Auntie Maggie is going to have a baby.” Meredith explained to her nephew. “Like my mommy and daddy?” Scout said casually, to which Amelia choked on her drink. “What did you say?” Maggie inquired, Meredith whipping her head around to look at Amelia. “I heard my mommy and daddy say last night that they’re going to have another baby.” Scout said, as if it were common knowledge, and turned back around to playing with his new toys.

“Amelia…” Meredith said, her voice cracking again. “We were, uh, going to wait to tell you guys since it’s still so early, but yeah. We’re having another baby.” Amelia admitted. Maggie and Meredith were both close to sobbing. “I’m so happy for you guys.” Meredith said through tears as she hugged Amelia and Maggie again. “I can’t believe we’re going to have kids so close in age!” Maggie said excitedly. “I’m so excited for more nieces or nephews. Hopefully at least one of you guys has a girl, I have so many clothes from when Zola and El were babies that I’ve had nothing to do with for the longest time.” Meredith said as she sat back down on the couch beside her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso and leaning her head on his chest, feeling wholly content. Liam and Austin came back downstairs, sitting beside their dad on the end of the couch. Zola, Bailey and Ellis cuddled up with Maggie and Amelia, while Scout sat with his dad and his Uncle Winston.

“Oh, Mer, there’s one more present under the tree. It’s for you.” Link said as he smirked and reached over to pick up a small present with Meredith’s name on it. Link began recording again, knowing exactly what was about to happen. “Oh, hey, look who it’s from!” Meredith said happily as she looked up at Cormac, who was smiling widely at her. “I wonder why I missed it this morning.” She added on. The reason she’d ‘missed’ it was because it’d actually never been there in the morning. Link and Amelia had brought it with them in order to help with the surprise, but she didn’t know that. Carefully, she unwrapped the small square box. Everyone watched intensely, as they knew what was happening. Cormac had gotten everyone involved in the planning for this very moment. The only person who didn’t know what was about to happen was Meredith, and maybe Scout, who had the excuse of being 5. The wrapping paper tore away to reveal a small ring box. Now, Cormac had boughten small rings for Meredith before, so she didn’t think too much of it, until she opened the box and found a beautiful, sparkling diamond ring. She looked up at him, her jaw dropped. He started, “I, uh, debated for a really long time how I’d go about this. Truthfully, the kids, and your family helped me out, they all thought it’d make most sense to ask you this on Christmas.” Meredith looked at Cormac, wide-eyed, barely breathing, and still holding the ring box. He continued, “Um, you and I know better than anyone else how precious time is, and how we have to make the most of every moment we have with the people we love. Before Abby died, she told me I had her permission to fall in love again. That she wanted me to be happy. But I didn’t think it was possible. I didn’t think it was possible for me to fall in love with anyone again, that was, until I met you.”

A tear ran down Meredith’s cheek as she continued to look into Cormac’s eyes, and sniffles could be heard that were a result of the hardly contained tears coming from the pregnant women and their fiancés behind her. “You understood me, right from the moment I needed the understanding. I knew I loved you before we began dating. When you did your pro bono surgery day, that was the day that solidified for me, just how magnificent of a person you are, and that you were someone I wanted to love, every day for the rest of my life. And ever since we began dating, I’ve found more things to love you for every day. I love the way you love your kids, your sisters, your nephew, Austin and Liam, and me. And I love that we can always talk about Abby and Derek, when it’s just the two of us, or with the kids, and it’s never an issue. And as scary as this is for the both of us, I know that they’d want us to be happy. And god, Meredith, you make me so happy. You amaze me, every time we work together, or when I see you in the hallways, and every time I come home from work to you. And I feel like Abby would want this more than anyone. She sometimes berates me in my dreams for not asking you yet. So, with all that being said, Meredith Grey, will you marry me?” He finished. He and Meredith continued to keep direct eye contact. Amelia and Maggie had stopped trying to hold in their tear’s eons ago. At this point, they were sobbing. However, aside from the sniffling, the room was completely silent.

“Yes. A hundred thousand times, yes.” Meredith said breathlessly after a few moments, and the room erupted into cheers. Cormac took the ring box from Meredith’s hands and took the ring out, then he placed it on Meredith’s finger. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, then took another look at her ring. She showed off her ring to Maggie and Amelia, who were both complete messes. All 3 of the sisters were marrying the men they loved, and Amelia and Maggie were both ecstatic to be pregnant at the same time. Meredith couldn’t remember a Christmas ever being so filled with tears of joy, but she couldn’t complain. Everything about this Christmas had been perfect – for everyone.

#merhayes #cormac hayes #merwidow #grayes #meredith x hayes #hayes x grey #meredith x cormac #cormac x meredith #hayes x meredith #mcwidows #amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #scout lincoln #scout shepherd lincoln #maggie pierce #winston ndugu

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breakingsomething · 3 years

Text

Dawn Station - Part Two

Basic summary: Chase Brody is being kept safe, far away from other people. So he thinks.

Content warnings: gore, body horror, stabbing, emeto, death mentions

Chase Brody is not ok.

Of course he's not. How is he expected to be? Ten people have died, and now he's being told he's next. He's been under police protection for days and judging by the strained snippets of conversation that he's caught from officers, even the others that had been with him are gone. Ten people, they had said. As far as Chase is aware, there were only nine other youtubers who'd been roped into this shit. Who else has this monster that wants them dead killed along with them? Does he even want to know?

He's been in this room for… three days? Four? Fuck, he doesn't remember. All he knows now is white walls, too close around him, with a bed, a tv in the top corner that he doesn't have a remote for, a black bin, a rolling table that's covered in books and other assorted things that he managed to bring with him, and two doors, one of which that leads to a small bathroom and one of which that leads outside. The second door only opens when he's being brought food. No one's telling him anything. He's scared out his mind.

An officer, a pale skinned woman with orange braids and a sympathetic smile, comes in a couple hours after he wakes for the day with breakfast. Toast, cold, with butter slabs and little packets of jam and sugar for his tea. Also cold. "Sorry, we don't have any Weetabix," she tells him with furrowed eyebrows and a sad tilt of the mouth as she clicks the door behind him. "We do have Cheerios and porridge, if you want something more to eat."

It's all he can do not to laugh. "No, thank you," says Chase, in a hoarse voice that hasn't been used in hours. "I want my phone back."

The officer winces. Her eyes are dark, crimson lipstick slightly smudged. Her nametag says "Sarah" on it in violet ink. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, in a voice so soft and falsely sympathetic it makes Chase want to scream. "I don't know if we can do that. We -"

"The others are dead, aren't they?" Chase interrupts. He knows this already. But it's worth saying to see the woman flinch. "All of them. So much for your oh-so-safe "police custody" bullshit."

She attempts to gather herself as professionally as she can, which is seemingly rather difficult. "I'm sorry," she repeats, and something about her tone is more genuine than before. "They are. But I swear to you, Mr Brody, we are doing everything we can to -"

"If I am going to die today," Chase says, interrupting again. "I want to talk to my goddamn family one more fucking time. Please get me my phone."

She stiffens, but gives a jerky little nod. He doesn't smile at her as she leaves. Not much to smile about. But she comes back ten minutes later and wordlessly hands him his slim rose phone, no expression on her face. He manages to upturn the corner of his lips in response.

Once she's left again, he turns his phone on and practically sighs at the sight of his two kids on his lockscreen. Little Connor and Louise, tiny kiddos, dressed up in their pristine school uniforms and grinning cheesily. His heart swells, and he swallows hard as the lump in his throat seems to expand. He can't cry. He's been crying enough lately. To think that two weeks ago, he was ecstatic to be receiving an email from Jack Mcloughlin himself, giving him the opportunity to play his new game's demo early. Look at him now.

Stacy is at the top of his contacts list, but only because he has her favourited still. He's not sure why. It just feels right to have her there. Her picture is a small, grainy image of her face next to a three year old Connor's. He has her looks more than Louise. Louise looks like her dad. She's a daddy's girl. Chase misses her so much it aches, and closes his eyes as he clicks Stacy's number.

She answers almost immediately. "Chase?" she yells, causing him to wince and pull the phone away from his ears. He hears her inhale sharply. "Sorry. Christ, Chase - Where the fuck are you?"

He swallows again, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. His legs are already beginning to bounce. "Police didn't tell you anything, huh," he mutters. "I'm in custody. They're apparently "keeping me safe," but I'm well aware of the fact that the others - Persephone, Rodney, Stanley, and Khia - are. Well." He clears his throat. "Dead."

He says it so matter of factly that you wouldn't know how close he was to tears had you not seen his face.

Stacy shifts, and Chase hears a door slam faintly. Two small voices giggle far off. He bites down on his lip as Stacy talks again. "Yeah. That's… yeah. Chase, I'm sorry. Uh… Jack Mcloughlin's dead too."

Chase sits bolt upright, eyes suddenly wide. "What?"

Stacy sounds alarmed. "I - Yes, did they not tell you? He died maybe two days ago. Same way as all the others. I'm sorry, Chase."

He can't breathe for a moment. Then he's numb and his body settles into cold, unfeeling static.

"Ok," he says flatly. "Great."

"Chase -"

"How are the kids?" he asks before she can finish. He's tired. He's been doing nothing but sleeping and he's tired. "I can hear them in the background, ha. Sounds like a fun time."

He can hear her scratching the space behind her ear. She does that when she's anxious. Nervous habit. She had gotten a little tattoo of a bee there when they were seventeen. It was a dare from their friend Daniel, who had also gotten a tattoo of a crocodile on his left thigh. Chase has a black bear on his right shoulder from the same occasion. When he and Stacy had been together, they would sometimes kiss the other's tattoos and descend into giggles remembering that slightly drunken night back in Ireland. His chest feels tight thinking about it. His eyes glaze over, and he tries to focus on something across the room.

"They're… not great," Stacy murmurs after a moment, making him jump. He had almost forgotten she was there. "Some brat at school told them about - this whole situation. Told them their dad was going to die. Apparently, she made up a song about it."

Chase hisses softly, grateful for another emotion besides grief and missing to focus on. "Fuck's sake. Which kid was this?"

"You know that girl who was making fun of Louise's accent last year and put chips in her hair?"

"That kid again? I thought the school dealt with her."

A sigh. "Apparently not. They came home in tears. I've been keeping them home since then."

Chase shakes his head in disbelief. "Shit, Stace. Can I… can I talk to them?"

She sighs again. "I… I suppose. But - how have you been? I take it its not been great, but are you at least ok?"

What counts as ok? He doesn't know. "I'm not dead yet. So there's something. I guess I can't really say much more than that."

"Papa?" cries a voice on the end of the line, and a grin breaks Chase's face as he recognizes his son, Connor, yelling from somewhere quite close to Stacy. "Is that Papa? Mama, let us talk - Louise, Papa's on the phone!"

Chase can't help but laugh as his daughter also chimes in, two little voices clamoring for his attention. "Calm down, kiddos, there's plenty of me to go round," he grins, pushing his hair back from his face so he can concentrate. "How are you both? One at a time, Louise first."

"Favouritism," he hears Connor sulk, but the boy quiets.

"I'm ok," Louise beams. He can hear her smile, and sees it when he closes his eyes. "I can't go to school cause Megan Penicuik was being mean. We made cookies, though, me and Con-Con! All by ourselves, no help from Mama at all!"

"Now, that's simply not true," he hears Stacy laugh in the background. Chase laughs too, his heart suddenly aching. Something weighs heavy in his chest, but he tries to push it away, feeling sick.

A scuffle on the end of the line, and then it's Connor speaking. "I miss you, Papa!" he cries. "I wanna give you a - a chocolate chip cookie, I have one here." His voice becomes muffled, and Chase hears him chewing. "Yum yum yum. Can we push a cookie down the phone? Like, through the speakers, Mama!"

Chase listens to a small squabble break out, then hears Stacy sigh dramatically. "They're doing just fine," she says, sounding so tired, yet vaguely amused. "I… I hate to say it, but I should probably go. Connor's games club is in half an hour and I haven't gotten ready at all. My makeup's a state." Her voice softens. "Will you be… ok?"

Will he? He doesn't know.

"Stace," he murmurs. His chest feels tight. "I could die. Like, tonight. That's what people are saying. I'm the last one left."

A pause, then Stacy lets out a shaky sigh. "Christ, Chase…"

He gathers his strength. "Listen. Listen, Stace. If I die tonight - I just want you to know how much I love you, ok? Even if we… if we weren't meant to be together anymore. You're one of my best friends, you know? So… take care of the kids. Don't lose yourself. And by god, don't start drinking again."

She gives a choked laugh. "Chase. God, I - Don't fucking die tonight."

He doesn't know how to tell her he won't have a choice.

As soon as the call's ended, he opens up his roommate's contact. He can't stand the echoing silence that seems to go on forever in the minute or so before the ringing starts. He supposes that if tonight is his last night alive, he should say goodbye. Even if it hurts. Even if it makes him feel sick to say it.

He nearly sobs with relief when he hears the line click, and a familiar German accent speak loudly in his ear. "Chase?"

Chase sniffles, laughing softly. "Hey, Henny."

Henrik curses, and something slams. "Mother of God, Chase Brody, do you have any idea - Are you - Fuck, are you alright?"

Good question. "I don't know," he admits, bouncing his leg anxiously, and staring at his chipped black nails. "I mean, I'm… scheduled to die tonight. So probably not. Really, I've been weirdly calm about all this."

Henrik huffs, and Chase can almost picture him getting red in the face, yanking back his hair and staring out the window of their flat with narrowed, pale blue eyes. "They have not done anything about it? Surely it is not possible that a murderer who is killing in patterns cannot be apprehended? You would think that would be easy, especially if you are being held in high security. Motherfucking useless British police. Not that German ones were much better, but Christ -"

Chase cuts him off before he can rant for another five minutes. "How are the others? Are Jackie, Marv and Jem holding up ok?"

Henrik sighs, blowing out his cheeks. "Mhm. Marvin has gone a bit mad. Fucking idiot is spending way too much time online, reading up on your situation. He seems convinced that you are going to die as well. According to Jackie, he spent all of yesterday out of the house and came back saying he had been performing. But Jackie says he had not had any parties scheduled for that day, so he was talking shit."

Chase winces. His friend Marvin is a child's birthday party performer, a magician, and spends a lot of time perfecting fun tricks and illusions to add into his routine. Chase knows how much he enjoys his job. But he also knows that Marvin's habit of spending hours on internet forums and sites, learning things from other performers, can be bad for him. "Christ. I… Goddammit it. How's Jackie coping?"

He hears a microwave go off in the background. Henrik mutters something that Chase can't hear, then keeps talking. "Jackie has been at the gym every day since you were taken in. Overworking himself. He did come round yesterday and, uh, spoke about how scared he was for you. Cried a lot, poor man. I am not good with comforting people, but I tried. He does not know what to do with himself anymore."

This isn't surprising. Chase is well aware of Jackie's habit of overexercising and pushing himself too far when he was angry or upset. "And Jameson?"

Something clatters, like Henrik's rummaging in a cupboard. A fridge opens and slams shut, and then Henrik is back. "He has been round at our flat a lot. Did you know Euan ended things with him? I did not, until he told me the day before yesterday. He was dreadfully upset. The timing was… not great, to say the least. I do not think he is doing too well, but he refuses to accept any of the help I wish to give him. He kept asking about me instead. Really, sometimes I wish he was not such a good actor."

So does Chase. Jameson is never one to be open about his feelings, instead trying to help everyone else first. Chase loves him a lot, but he wishes the filmmaker would be less stubborn and insistent that he was always ok. His heart aches at the thought of Jameson suffering alone, especially now - he and his boyfriend Euan had been so close, as well. The thought that he might never be able to figure out what happened between them hurts. "Me too. God, Hen, me too. Give them all my love though, yeah? Tell Marvin to take some time to do self care, and tell Jackie to take breaks, and tell Jameson to talk to his therapist. And you… don't you overwork yourself either. I know what you're like. Only one cup of coffee a day, dude, remember. Don't make me come over there."

Henrik laughs softly, but there's a sadness to it. "You sound as though you are saying goodbye."

Something stabs into Chase's heart. He tries to catch his breath through the lump in his throat. "Henrik. I'm going to die tonight."

There's a long pause. He can hear Henrik adjusting, rubbing his face and knocking his glasses askew. Maybe he knows his roommate too well. Far too well, maybe well enough that he knows what he'll say next. "There has to be another way."

Chase shakes his head despite Henrik being unable to see him. "No. No, Hen, no. This - this is what's happening, and we can't just… fix it. I wish we could, cause I don't even understand why, and it's so scary, and… God, I wish we could. I have so much left I want to do, and…"

He trails off. Henrik doesn't speak. Chase imagines him pulling the phone away from his face, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his mouth so as not to cry. The image hurts. Chase hurts. He holds the phone tight, aching to be somewhere, anywhere else other than here.

"You know," he says, voice choked as he speaks. "It's ironic how much I wanted to die a few months ago, and now I'm here, and I'm suddenly so scared."

"You are not going to die," Henrik suddenly shouts. There is anger in his voice that Chase knows is not directed at him. "You are not. It will not just all end like that, Chase Brody. I will not let it."

Something hot pricks the backs of Chase's eyes. He swallows hard, his chest tightening, his legs bouncing harder. "Henrik. Henrik, I - I have to go. I have to go. I'm sorry. I love you, dude. You know that? I love you."

"Chase," Henrik practically sobs. "Shit, I love you too. But you are not going to die."

Chase ends the call and throws up in the black bin next to his bed.

Night comes quickly, Chase thinks.

He thinks, because an officer comes to take his phone soon after his call with Henrik ends. He's starting to regret hanging up, but it had to have been what was best. Of course it was what was best. No need to make this hurt so much more than it already does. This is something he has to keep telling himself. No need to make this hurt so much more than it already does.

The officers ask what he wants for dinner that night instead of giving him choices. He gets it. It's a last meal. He takes full advantage of it and orders pepperoni cheese stuffed crust pizza and garlic sticks, his favourite, with barbeque sauce and churros. It all tastes like cardboard. He eats it anyway, because he's bored and his mouth still tastes like vomit and if he's going to die, it's only fitting that he goes out with a Domino's in him.

Before he's even finished eating, an armed guard comes and takes him across the building. It's the first time he's left his room in days, and he's surprised to see how dark it is outside, how little people are around. The few people he does see stare at him, some open mouthed with awe, some with sad eyes like a parent trying to tell their child that their pet fish died. Chase stares at the floor. Stares at the gun tucked into the waistband of the officer in front of him. He's scared, and his heart is racing faster than it has in years, and he thinks he's dissociating a little because he doesn't feel real and his fingertips are numb. Adrenaline thrums through his body, warming him and erasing the painful cold. Fuck, but he's scared. He's so, so goddamn scared.

He's taken to an entirely different room, a slightly bigger one that looks nearly the same, but with wooden chairs sat all around the border. There's no TV in this room. "Sit here," one of the officers says, guiding him to the blue covered bed and gesturing for him to sit. He does so, feeling silly and light with panic. He thinks he's going to be sick again. His breaths aren't coming right and fuck, he might faint from the sudden, overwhelming wave of dizziness that's washing over him now.

One of the officers that has just come in walks over and sits next to him. He's in full uniform, a radio on his vest, a bat strapped to his belt. "Are you alright, Mr Brody?" he asks gently, looking at him with kind brown eyes, and Chase sobs with relief for some kind of comfort.

"H-h-having a p-panic attack," he stammers, shifting on the bed to try and feel something, clawing at his skin under his grey hoodie and desperately trying not to cry. "N-need my - my - my asth-ma in-inhaler, p-please, I can't br-breathe -"

He's brought his inhaler, and he clutches it gratefully, clinging to it like a child. The cold button grounds him. Maybe, maybe if he squeezes his eyes shut tight enough, he'll wake up in his bed at home and be able to get up and shower in a bathroom that's not small or lit too brightly and then he can go downstairs to the kitchen to find Henrik half asleep at the table, three cups of coffee in front of him, wearily participating in whatever Chase's dumb early morning joke is, and then he can eat toast that's not burnt or done too lightly and play his music while he writes or goes on a walk outside. Maybe. Maybe.

The armed guards keep watch over him for two full hours.

Chase Brody is terrified.

It's when it hits the two and a half hour mark that he begins to notice anything different. A faint ringing in his ears. He thinks it's his tinnitus and waves it off, simply swatting at the air around his head like that will help at all. One of the guards notices immediately. "Sir, are you alright?"

Chase nods. He's not, but he doesn't need them dithering over him. Unfortunately, the guard doesn't let up. "Seriously, it's important that you tell us what's happening. Anything at all. Anything that could help you."

Well, that's reassuring. "Strange noise," he murmurs, shaking his hair out his face. "I think it's just me, though, I'm alright -"

But the guard is standing, muttering something into the radio strapped to his chest, and is it Chase's imagination, or are more people entering the room? "What's happening?" he asks, but he gets no response, and he's starting to feel strangely dizzy and tired, like something heavy is dragging his eyelids down. "I don't… h-hey, I don't feel too… too well…"

Someone is speaking to him but the world is already blurring, his head light, floaty. "Stacy?" he slurs, trying to get a grip on the bedsheets beneath him. "Someone needs t'... m'kids, they…"

Chase Brody is no longer in the same room as he was before.

He doesn't know when that changed. He can't pinpoint the exact moment where the walls darkened and raised with pipes and doors and panels, he doesn't know when his bed disappeared beneath him and the floor became sticky and black, he doesn't know when the bright light of his room became a soft blue glow, lighting up the room from behind him. He doesn't know when the room had stretched both ways into a long hallway, lined with slivers of light through the windows. He doesn't know why, when he stands, his legs nearly crumple beneath him. And when he turns - god, when he turns, and he looks out the enormous windows behind him - he doesn't know why a calming sensation of numbness settles over him, burning his skin like pins and needles.

He is staring out at the vast abyss of space.

It's a blackness he's never seen before. It seems to go on forever, and maybe it does, and there is nothing but tiny pinpricks of silver light of gaseous stars piercing the inky nothingness. Nothing but that, and the ball of green and blue that Chase knows, somewhere in his mind. Earth. Earth, where he is and isn't, where his body should be, where he never left, and what kind of nightmare is this? What kind of sick nightmare, he thinks dizzily, his thoughts chugging slowly as though through a thick soup. Everything is spinning. There is no sound, the world is broken, and the space is fucking endless.

Move, says the tiny part of his brain that still has sense. Get out. Get out.

His footsteps echo on the metal panes of the floor, and he resists the tightening urge in his stomach to vomit.

He doesn't know why this place is familiar.

The hallway seems to go on forever. All the doors along the way to the left have small, glowing panels beside them that seem to demand some type of access keycard, which Chase very much does not have. Eventually he reaches one that he can open, and stumbles into a large room with a table in the centre, the walls covered in photos and clippings that he doesn't bother taking closer looks at. There is only one small window in here, over a sleek black couch that seems to have nearly been shredded right through the middle. The table has a bolted down chair and a large pile of papers next to a cracked laptop that splutters weakly as it asks for a password. The room is too dark. Chase slowly walks through it, wincing at the sound his boots make on the floor, wincing at the silence, heart racing with the promise of another panic attack that he pushes down forcefully, gripping his own wrist for support. This isn't right, screams the universe. This is too familiar. This is too real. This is too familiar to be real.

Chase has noticed that everything in this place, despite its immediate appearance of immaculate properness, seems to be slightly out of place. This becomes more apparent in the room adjacent to the one he'd just been in, a room filled with sealed metal crates and boilers that bubble menacingly from their perches on the walls, a room which has clearly been nearly destroyed. Black claw marks have torn out chunks of the walls, wires ripped from the floor, buzzing weakly and sparking from wherever they were thrown after their violent uprooting. Dark red stains splash across the floor like a tragic painting that makes Chase's stomach upturn sickly. A vent on the ceiling hisses, and the man jumps and bolts, all last dregs of courage leaving him in an instant. He knows this is a dream. This is a dream, nothing is real, nothing is real, it must be just a dream.

"I've gone to hell," he sobs aloud, clamping both hands over his mouth as a cry climbs up his throat. "O-oh my god, I've gone to hell."

This is what you get for being a shitty, alcoholic dad and husband, he thinks, and promptly throws up on the floor next to the fresh bloodstains.

The rooms start to blur. Objects to objects, light to light, black walls and coloured glow and sparks, hissing, echoing rumbles, all becoming one in Chase's mind. He's long gone past the stage of a panic attack; he's in a state of utter numb calm, now. In one room he finds a long, black lighter and holds it tightly in his hands for comfort, twisting it round and round in buzzing fingers just to feel something solid against his skin to ground him. Please, he prays softly, wiping sweat from his forehead, struggling to breathe as his chest tightens and the world seems to grow hotter and smaller. Please, let me wake up, let me wake up from this, please.

And then something is standing behind him.

He doesn't know how he knows. It's just a sensation of silent shock in him, of I am not alone, a stabbing feeling as the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Something is there. He feels eyes on him. He can't - fuck, he can't move, and all the emotion in him seems to be rising to a painful crescendo. I am not alone in here. I am not alone in here.

"Who's there," he says in a small, cracked voice, not daring to turn. It's barely a question. "What do you want from me."

Nothing but a low hissing, and, most frightening of all, a rumbling growl that nearly sends Chase to the floor in a faint.

He has to look.

He looks.

It's an… an astronaut.

Neither of them move, and Chase's grip on the lighter in his hands tightens, trying to find some form of comfort, anything. "Why am I here?" he manages, swallowing back hot bile that burns his throat and makes him gag softly. "Why, why, what nightmare is this? Am I dead? Did the killer get me and this is my hell?"

The astronaut is silent.

Fury bubbles in Chase's chest, overriding the fear for a moment. "Talk!" he shouts, perhaps stupidly, but he doesn't care. "Please! What is happening?"

Then things get perhaps even stranger, somehow. A glowing 2D box of light appears in front of the astronaut, hovering in the air, too quiet until black text begins to appear on it, cartoonishly video game like blooping noises playing with each letter. Chase watches in awe. He's unable to speak.

<TheAnti.chr_v09> You are the Player.

Chase reads the words over and over and over.

"My name is Chase Brody," he says, voice wavering with uncertainty, because something here is wrong, wrong, wrong, so ridiculously wrong, and he hates the way things are clicking in his mind. "I shouldn't - be here. I think I'm dreaming and I want to go home."

The text flashes.

<TheAnti.chr_v09> You are <player_variable_BroAverage>. You are the Player.

Chase feels like he's above his body, like nothing he's seeing is real anymore. "Please let me go home."

<TheAnti.chr_v09> I am <TheAnti.chr_v09>. I am the Anti. You are the player. Player objective: escape. Anti objective: kill the Player. Initialization - Upon game startup, play <soundtrack_opening2>, set spawn and character sprites -

Chase can't take this. "Stop it!" he cries, and he shouldn't step forwards so confidently, but he does, slashing his hand through the air in front of him. "Tell me what you -"

The astronaut explodes.

No. No, it doesn't explode; Chase's mind is taking a moment to make sense of it, to rationalize the way the helmet has shattered and there is nothing but sheer white and glowing green eyes, hundreds of them, underneath, the largest one on the being's neck, splitting open with disgustingly inhuman squelching sounds, and the way the suit has torn and a mouth has opened up on the stomach, a gaping maw with knives for teeth and a slimy crimson tongue, and the way rips open along the material and more eyes open, burning red skin like charred meat, black veins rising under its skin. It hisses and cracks and growls and hums and it isn't like anything Chase has ever seen before, or maybe it is, because he knows this monster. He's seen this monster. And fuck, now he knows why this world is familiar, because he's been here, he's played this game. This can't be real. This can't be real.

"Posttraumatic nightmares," he can hear Henrik saying to him, the man's voice comforting. "Nightmares that occur after a traumatic event and can contain, what is the word… recurring themes that make you experience intense negative emotions. Maybe that is why you are having such strange dreams, my friend. You have been through a lot in these past few weeks."

That had been months ago. I thought I got over those dreams. I thought I got over those dreams.

He's running. His legs are already burning, chest already tight, why did he have to have used all his energy on his panic attack? Is the monster still following him? Chase can't turn to check, and the blood in his veins is racing through his body faster than he's used to, his heart in his ears as he flies round a corner, barely able to catch a breath. This isn't real, he thinks. It's another nightmare. Please, this isn't real, this isn't -

And then something wet is snaking round his chest, pulsing in a way that makes Chase gag, and something sharp presses into the skin on his back and a burst of numbness runs over him like cold water, causing his body to go limp against the alien - because it is an alien, isn't it, he knew this already - behind him. Cold heaviness seeps through his veins, combatting the light weightlessness that the adrenaline was giving him. He tries to cough again, to speak as his lungs empty of air, but the alien only grips his arms tight enough to piece his skin with sharp claw-like fingers. A glance down at his chest, and he sees the tip of the bloodstained rod jutting through his skin. It doesn't really register. A light laugh escapes his lips, because it's funny, really, how he's about to die at the hands of a video game antagonist.

No, he's not about to die. This isn't real. It can't be, it's another bad dream, of course it is. But if it's not real, then what happened to Jack Mcloughlin and the others, all of those… all of…

The world spins.

And the world lights up in flames.

Chase had briefly forgotten about the lighter he'd picked up for support, and now he's putting it to good use; one flick of the switch and the alien is alight as though it had been soaked in gasoline, burning orange spreading across its suit, the crackling drowning out the monster's screeches. Its grip loosens on Chase's arms, and he pulls free, and the universe spins as the rod in his chest slips out like it's nothing, leaving a gaping emptiness in him. Please, he screams, in his mind or out loud, he doesn't know. Please. Please.

Please, wake me up.

White light. It floods the whole world, for just a moment, and then Chase's eyes are open and he is gasping for air, hands flying to his chest and feeling nothing but the soft material of his shirt, no pain except for the squeeze of his lungs as he coughs desperately into his sleeve. There are people surrounding him now; the police officers and armed guards from before, helping him sit up, holding a sick bucket in front of him as he throws up the little that's left in his stomach weakly, too much noise but nowhere near as bad as the silence of the Dawn Station. Nowhere near as bad as the hissing creaks of the Anti. Nowhere near as bad as his nightmare, because it was a nightmare, of course that wasn't real - nowhere near as bad as the nightmare that he'd thought was going to kill him.

I lived. I survived the night.

He's had this thought before, but this time, it's met with relief.

"You dreamed about the setting of a video game."

"Not just any video game. The, uh… the new Jack Mcloughlin game, Dawn Station. All the people who played the demo… died. I didn't die. The night I was supposed to, after all the others, I - I dreamed about the game. And the antagonist of the game. It's this, uh, this alien thing, in an astronaut suit. Tried to kill me. Apparently it's weak to fire, although I don't remember that from the actual game, maybe it was a secret that wasn't in the demo we were all sent, but I burned it, and it stabbed me, and I got away, not - not in that order. Does that… does that make sense, doctor?"

Dr. Ross scrutinizes Chase for a moment before turning his chair back to face his computer. The sound of his mouse clicking fills the room, off beat from the eternal clicking of the plain white clock on the plain white walls, decorated only with bookshelves and trays of medicines. Chase has never been in a more boring doctor's office. Usually his therapy sessions have more to look at, but this is a different therapist than he normally goes to, and all he can do is fidget with his hands on his lap and stare out the window at the

earth, the stars, the black abyss of emptiness that Chase could get lost in and never be found

setting sun through the trees just outside the building. The doctor's pen clicks, clicks, clicks. It sounds like the Anti's teeth, chattering against each other as it yawns, its maw opening wide enough for a head to be torn right off. Click, click, click. Chase closes his eyes, the repeating sounds like a mantra. He focuses on that instead. It grounds him.

"You have a history of nightmares."

Chase nods without looking. "I was prescribed triazolam by my first therapist. I took them for a year or so without changes except the lowering of doses a couple of times, because I was getting weaned off them. They helped. Nightmares didn't continue after that."

The other man nods slowly. "Hm. I can imagine the trauma of this recent event that you've been through was enough to bring these nightmares back to the forefront of your mind, especially given the contents of this dream in particular. We may have to ease you back onto medication over the course of your next few sessions here, which should be easier, given that it'll be a couple weeks before we send you home. Is that alright, Mr Brody?"

Click, click, click. Chase nods. Sunlight warms his face, and he sighs softly. "Sounds good, Dr. Ross. When will I be able to see my family?"

The man frowns, his forehead creasing. "Hopefully soon, although it will be slightly complicated, given the circumstances." A breath leaves him, and he tilts his head to the side slightly. His white collar digs into the fold of his neck. Chase keeps his eyes trained on that. "And these are strange circumstances, are they not?"

"They are," Chase mutters. He clenches his fists in his lap. "They are, yeah."

He should have died. He doesn't know why he didn't die. He doesn't even know what it was that killed the others. Really, the nightmare he'd had makes sense. It was easily written off as a traumatic event that had brought back old nightmares. Of course there was no way any of it had been real. That's ridiculous. Just ridiculous. He doesn't know why he's thinking that.

His hand trails down his shirt. Underneath, on the skin of his stomach, is a thick scar that hadn't been there before the nightmare he'd had. Right where the rod had pierced his stomach.

Coincidence. Coincidence.

"Do you have any other concerns, Mr Brody?"

"I don't believe so."

"Good."

Click. Click. Click.

#boop writes #jacksepticeye #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #dawn station

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troop-scoop · 4 years

Text

Mistakes & Regrets XVI

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing,

• • •

Anne placed a cup of coffee in front of you while you flipped through a magazine, ignoring the photo of Paris Hilton on the cover all the while, having never understood the fascination people had with her.

Looking up at the pink mug you looked at her, confused.

She picked up on the confusion and smiled a bit. “You can eat, drink and get full when you’re here.” She told you, gently scooting the mug towards you in an attempt to not scratch the polished wooden table.

“I didn’t know that. . .” You told her, picking up the coffee and standing up.

“Yeah. . . I haven’t told you everything about our abilities.” Anne shrugged a bit, sitting down across from your seat while you pulled the whipped cream from the fridge, walking back to the table.

“Like?”

“They’re triggered by traumatic events.” She told you, making you stare at her blankly, not moving, as if you’d turned to stone. She gave a nod as if she’d expected your reaction before speaking again. “For me it was when I was two, my dad, sister and cousin died in a car crash when I was in the car with them. I recovered from the trauma when I was thirteen, and they just, went away. They came back a few years ago. I was born with them, we’re just like Eleven, and the others. We just need a little bit more of a push.” “What was mine?” You asked, crossing your arms after you’d put a bit of whipped cream into your coffee.

Anne had figured out basically everything about you in the two years since you’d been born in her timeline.

“You know exactly what your’s was.”

You gave a sad smile and nodded a bit. How could you not? Being in the Upside Down was nothing if not traumatizing. When you choose to just sleep and not ‘Time Walk’ as Anne called it, you would still have nightmares about it.

Opening your eyes, you could feel a weight on your shoulder. Turning your head a bit you saw Steve turning his own head so his forehead was against your neck, still asleep.

You offered for him to stay at your place for the night. Having never met his parents in person, you didn’t trust whatever lecture his father would have waiting when he arrived home late smelling faintly of alcohol and looking distraught.

You also offered for him to sleep in your bed. It wasn’t weird, you were friends. But you quickly learned that while he knew the correct distance to keep when sleeping in the same bed as a friend, as soon as he was asleep, he tossed and turned until he had something to hold onto.

Currently, you were that thing.

He had an arm over your torso, gently holding onto your elbow while his head was against your shoulder.

You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It didn’t feel unnatural, like you were being held down by a sleeping teenager whose heart just got broken the previous night. It felt normal, like you’d done it before, even though you hadn’t.

Turning your head, you gently got him to let go of you and eased his head onto the pillow so you could get up.

Once on your feet you looked down at him and saw how tousled his hair was, even though you’d tried all night to get it to stay down and neat. But the tossing and turning probably didn’t help.

But there was such a stark difference between how he was the night before, his cheeks red from tears, his eyelids irritated because he kept rubbing them to try and stop crying, the wrinkled blazer and black t-shirt. Now, he looked peaceful. Eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, his hair messy. It made him look like a little kid who had calmed down from a tantrum and quickly fallen asleep.

It was cute.

Not that you’d ever say that to his face.

• • •

Days passed, and it seemed like there was a never ending pit of loneliness in the four large walls that made up your boxy apartment. It might as well be a studio. No, because you could make those look nice, a one bedroom apartment? Nearly impossible especially when the landlord wouldn’t let you take down the wall paper or board paneling that took up the bottom half of the walls.

Who was it who watched Queer Eye in your house? Was it Pa or Dad? You couldn’t remember. But you learned plenty about home design and plenty of other things. This wasn’t a good look. And the carpet was terrible. The yellow themed kitchen would have been remodeled had it been Pa’s choice.

But he wasn’t here, and you’d never be able to ask him all the questions you wanted to. That was your biggest regret, your last conversation with him being an argument in front of an entire restaurant with your dad and little brother watched, not knowing what to do.

You hoped he wasn’t tearing himself apart over you being missing. You hoped he didn’t blame himself. But you knew he would be.

The last thing you said to Pa was that you hated him, and that you hoped he rotted in hell. A statement that was harsh, even for a teenager who was angry.

The last thing you told your dad was that you loved him, when you left the motel to go explore the town of Hawkins before the restaurant. And you were pretty sure you told your brother to ‘fuck off’ before you left.

You always did have a better relationship with your dad.

A knock came from the other side of your front door, and it had you on your feet from the little nest you’d made against the side of your couch.

You’d given up on any precautions that your fathers had ingrained into you about being a girl. You rarely checked the back of your car when you got in, and went to the store late at night alone. You wore headphones while walking. You’d forget your pepper spray on those walks, and somehow, you were always fine. And the other precaution you’d given up on? Checking the peephole in the door when someone knocked.

Opening the heavy wooden door, you came face to face with Steve, who stood awkwardly with Dustin next to him, who had his walkie talkie and headset on.

“Oh this should be good.” You said with a teasing smile while Steve rolled his eyes and brushed past you into the apartment, with Dustin following shortly after.

Closing the door, you watched as Steve went to the living room closet. “What are you looking for?”

Steve gave an unintelligible grumble as response. Dustin turned his head from looking at Steve while he rumaged through the closet. “The bat.” He clarified.

“The one with the nails?”

Dustin nodded.

“Up in the crawlspace.”

Steve looked at you, confused “You put it in here when I gave it to you?”

You nodded a bit, mouth open a bit, inhaling the cold air that had been let into your apartment. “Yeah, newsflash, Steven, Hopper’s always visiting to make sure I’m not on hardcore drugs,” That part was a joke. “I had to hide it. It’s in the crawlspace.”

“Where the hell is a crawlspace in this apartment?” Steve demanded, getting ready to argue that you were just pulling his leg.

“Above you, genius.”

Steve looked up, the hair on his neck now on the collar of his jacket. “Oh.” He stepped onto your shelves and lifted up the opening, before jumping down with the bat, the nails scraping against the wood floor that was only in the closet and not anywhere else in the house.

“Dude!” you yelped seeing a new scratch in the floor.

“Calm down, I’ll fix it when I come back.” He told you, going to your bedroom. You had a terrible feeling about it. So you followed after him, with Dustin following you.

“Steve, what’s going on?” You asked, watching as he dumped your school bag out onto your bed, grimacing at the crumbs that fell out too. “Steve?”

He looked up at you from the end of your bed, that was still technically a pullout. So really, you had two couches. His expression was soft, a face that was usually used when trying to calm people down, or make them feel safe. And because you knew that, it had the exact opposite effect. “Nothing, probably just a prank.” He told you in a soft voice.

You shook your head, moving towards him, grabbing his arm. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” He whispered to you. “I seriously think it’s a prank.”

“You’re indulging in a thirteen year old’s prank? By bringing a weapon?”

“Guys, we don’t have time for your flirting, let’s go!” Dustin shouted from the hall, even though he was close enough to just speak.

But his words were enough to make you realize how close you’d gotten to your friend, and how you could make out which detergent his mother used on his clothes, and how they were freshly washed because they didn’t smell like a closet, or wooden drawers.

“I’m coming with you.” You told them, heading to the dresser and pulling out a pair of jeans, pulling them on over your lounge shorts, before digging into another drawer,

“Y/n, I don’t think that’s a good idea- Holy shit, is that a gun!” You looked at Steve, holding the gun case that Hopper had given you, a small pistol inside of it.

“Yeah.” You responded. “Let’s go. You told him, walking out of the bedroom.

• • •

Peering into the rearview mirror you saw Dustin staring at the center console, while you sat next to Steve, holding the case in your lap, with your bookbag between your feet on the floorboard. The base of the bat against your knee.

The heating and radio were on, so currently, you were warm and listening to Queen.

“Wait a sec, how big?” Steve asked suddenly, quickly looking at Dustin, bringing up the thing you were pretty sure was just a lizard.

You turned to look at Dustin, seeing him bring up his index and thumb, showing a certain size. “First it was like that.” Then he brought up his other hand, “Now he’s like this.”

“Hmm, terrifying.” You spoke, turning back around,

“I swear to God, man, it’s just some little lizard, okay?” Steve gestured, keeping his eyes on the road.

“It’s not a lizard.” Dustin corrected.

“How do you know that?” You asked, turning back again.

“How do I know it’s not a izard?” Dustin questioned, looking at you like you just insulted his entire family.

“You heard her, man, how do you know it’s not just a lizard?” Steve raised his voice a bit.

Dustin looked at the headrest of the driver’s seat.”Because his face opened up and he ate my cat.”

Your eyes went wide, brows raised and mostly frozen in place while you turned to look at Steve who nodded while he pulled into Mrs. Henderson’s driveway.

Following the two males to the cellar, you were uncertain, not knowing if this was serious or not. If you should be worried about what Dustin was saying about whatever he’d put into his cellar.

Steve pointed the flashlight to the red metal doors, a chain and lock keeping it closed. He held the bat in his other hand, just staring at the door.

“I don’t hear shit.” He said finally.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. “He’s in there.” Dustin confirmed, pointing to the doors.

What were you supposed to say in this situation? Or even think, or feel? Other than uneasy? Like Steve, Dustin and you weren’t totally safe just standing in front of his house, down the stone path to the cellar.

Steve tapped the door with the bat, and when nothing happened, he banged on it. Once again, nothing came to the doors.

You covered your eyes when a bright light quickly brushed over your face before landing on Dustin’s. “All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“Halloween was two days ago, dude.” You reminded.

“It’s not.” Dustin confirmed, the flashlight still being shone in his face.

“All right?” Steve asked again.

“Steve, it’s not a prank, get the light out of his face.” You told your friend, bringing a hand to block to light from Dustin’s eyes.

“You got a key for this thing?”

• • •

Looking down in the cellar from where you were, you took a few steps closer, curiosity getting the best of you. “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape.” Dustin offered.

“I’ll go down there.”

It was odd, because in these few moments, you felt like yourself for the first time in a long time. Not afraid of the dark cellar or what Dustin said was down there. Not caring if it was a mini Demagorgon.

Steve looked at you, although you only looked down at the concrete that was lit up by the flashlight. “You’re not going down there.”

Smiling a bit, you finally looked at Steve, who was squatted down next to you. “Why not?”

“Because there could be something down there.” He tried to reason with you, even though it was in vain because you walked forward, going down a step before he grabbed your arm, making you stop and look at him.

“Y/n, please. I’ll go down there, you didn’t even grab the gun.”

Sighing, you looked at Dustin who shrugged a bit while you walked back up the step and let him go down instead.

The fact that you actually owned a gun, was a bit disturbing. At least to you. After all, your dad refused to let Pa own one. Not wanting one in the house, but completely okay with you at least knowing how to shoot one. Thinking back on it, that was also strange.

But what bothered you right now, was that you couldn’t go down with Steve. You didn’t like that he was down there alone with just a flashlight and baseball bat filled with nails.

“You’re cold?” Dustin asked, grabbing your attention. You looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

He gestured to your arms that were covered in goosebumps, which was when you realized you walked out of your apartment in baggy jeans, and your favorite t-shirt, even though it was almost winter.

“Guess so.” You shrugged a bit, your mind wandering back to Steve impatiently and worridly tapping your foot while looking down the stairs. “Steve, you good?” You asked, grabbing Dustin’s shoulder in a protective manner when Steve came into view at the bottom of the stairs, pointing his flashlight up at you two.

“Get down here.”

You were the first to come down the stairs, noticing what seemed to be a layer of wet skin that had been shed hanging off of the bat while you grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s jacket.

“Oh shit.” Dustin mumbled seeing the skin, but you could feel the same reaction come on when Steve pointed his flashlight to the corner, revealing where Dustin’s ‘pet’ had broken through the stone wall and tunneled through the dirt like he was trying to get to China.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled while Dustin shouted “Oh shit!” at the same time as you.

“So you weren’t pulling a prank.” You spoke up, your grip on Steve getting a bit more firm while you looked at the hole. “We're so fucked.”

• • •

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#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington slow burn #steve #this took sooooo long #im so sorry #my mental state is shit #And that's on ✨ depression and anxiety and adhd✨

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yenni19 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10

Akamari is upset crying in her room, Souske knocks at the door

Souske(opening the door): can I come in?

Akamari: your in already so shut the door

Souske: I'm sorry....

Akamari: why did you throw a fit....what's your deal with Sarutobi anyway.....he did nothing to you...it was just a present

Souske: it's not what he did....its what he is to you...and because of his father

Akamari: I don't understand...

Souske: what if I told you that you and Sarutobi are related by blood in some way...how would you see the situation then?

Akamari: it wouldn't matter....

Souske: even if you and Sarutobi share the same father...how would you feel about him then?

Akamari: your lying...that's not true!

Souske hands her a picture of her mother and Kawaki in the hospital room holding thier child

Akamari(crying): no....this can be any other kid!...or....or.....

Souske: this is a picture a day before she died...your grandmother took this picture hours after giving birth

He hands her a small photo book, she flips through it,when she gets to the last picture it's her mother and Kawaki showing a tiny Akamari

Souske: now you know the truth....

Suddenly out of nowhere Souske gets sucker punched as he gets thrown and breaks the door

Souske(scared and coughs up blood): Akamari.....I'm......sorry.....I........didn't....want...to....upset....you....

Akamari(angry while activated byakugan): you and him both....are shitty excuses for parents....him for being a coward....but you....you are the shittiest.....for not coming to see me....now I know why

Souske(catching his breath): no Akamari....that's not true...you still are my daughter.....

Suddenly her gift starts to show red instead of gold causing things to turn to ash

Souske(pleading): Akamari.....please honey...let's calm down...

Akamari(laughing): sorry dad....but I no longer am calm....(screaming) I see red!

Suddenly the whole room is ash as she disappears, Sauske saves his son by teleporting him to the living room

Sauske: what the hell was that Souske...

Naruto(interrupting): it's begun hasn't it...Kayuga's gift is evolving inside Akamari

Souske: it's not the first time this happened....

Sakura: how long ago...how old was she?

Souske: it was was around the time Samari was little...Akamari was seven and they were playing....Akamari got tired of playing but Samari pestered her....and that's when I noticed the gift turning red causing a knife to fly directly across the room almost Stabbing Samari....ever since then I've been so terrified of a tragedy happening that I isolated myself from her and kept her occupied at all times...making sure she had no room for anger...but my biggest mistake was separating Samari from Akamari by sending her abroad just so she was not hurt by her own sister

Sauske: well we better find her....if not there's a chance she's not in this realm....we are gonna need Boruto and her father....

Sakura: but she might attack him....like she did Souske...

Naruto: we must take that chance....its the only way to bring Akamari back here....ready Sauske

Sauske: when ever you are....idiot

---‐--------------------------

Akamari reappears but in a meadow, with a big tree in the middle, it's night as she looks around and sees tall grass with every wildflower in it. Fireflies in every direction lighting up the night like tiny stars

Akamari: where am I.....how did I get here...I really need to control my anger....(smacks her head) damn it why am I so temper mental....why the hell am I this way

She looks around and notices a cabin....she goes inside and sees its dusty....she cleans it

Akamari: this place must of been abandoned....for awhile....well its looks better now since I cleaned it (cracks her nuckles) well its time to start a fire....its getting cold

She starts chopping wood....and gets a fire going, she notices the book shelf with several books, and picks one out to read....within minutes she falls asleep

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Back at the leaf village, the Uzumakis and Uchias including Kawaki and Sarutobi are trying to find Akamari

Sauske: there's no trace of her....anywhere

Sakura: maybe she's hiding somewhere we don't know about

Hinata: I just hope she's okay.....

Naruto: where can she be?

Boruto(running to his parents): it's been three hours...we have to call it a night...and start again in the morning

Kawaki(meeting up with Boruto): we can't she might be in trouble....who knows where she is

Sarutobi(running to meet up the Uzumakis): I looked as well...its like she disappeared leaving no trace I can't even sense her chakra signature anywhere

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Four days pass, Akamari wakes up from a deep sleep, she finds a way out from the meadow heading back to the leaf village

Akamari(entering the village): man I'm starving...I'll probably go to the Ramen noodle shop...and order thier special

Suddenly as she's walking...Akamari notices surprised stares coming from the villagers

Akamari(confused): that's weird...why do they look like I was reincarnated or something

She goes to the ramen shop....as she enters inside....everyone is shocked and silent, she shrugs it off and orders her food, the waiter nervously hands it to her

Akamari(smiles): thank you

Waiter(nervosly): your welcome

Phara(sitting next to Akamari): you girl have a powerful gift dont you....its must be amazing to be the last Otsutsuki in your bloodline

Akamari(confused): I'm sorry...who are you?

Phara: my name is not important....but I must tell you something....on the twenty first year of your birthday you will give your life for the sake of humanity as the last Otsutsuki

Akamari: the last Otsutsuki....give my life...

Phara: yes your life....because your gift is rare and powerful you will be a target for those like you....they will stop at nothing to gain it...heed my words and from here on out be careful who you surround yourself with...life is precious

Akamari: but I'm not an Otsutsuki....

Phara: your father is Kawaki Madra holder of the karma.....your mother is Himawari Uzumaki daughter of the jinchuriki who held the ninetail fox and the bayakugan princess

Akamari(shocked): how do you know that....

Phara: I've been watching you my dear....my duty as a birther was to look after you...I'm the last one of my kind who still alive and holds the gift of the forseer which let's me know about catastrophic events

Akamari: but you look so young....how old are you?

Phara: four hundred and fifty years...

Akamari(spits and chokes on her soup): what....you....are....four hundred and fifty....years.....old?

Phara: yes I've was around even before clans turned into cities like this one...I've been and seen how ugly wars can be between Otsutsuki and humanity....you are the last of your bloodline....you will fulfill your duty in order to stop another war from happening....you are destined to be a fallen hero

Akamari(sad): a fallen hero....me....but I don't even train....

Phara: in time you will....you will pick a sensei that most thought to be dead...but don't worry he'll find you...and you will know

Akamari: who...?

Phara: he'll be a man missing a limb....with spiky white hair....a legendary sage who trained your grandfather Naruto...but be cautious he's not who he use to be...he's mean and strict...but I believe you can soften his hard shell

Akamari: wait a minute...the woman chaser that always got my grandfather in trouble....Jiraiya

Phara(smiling): so you know of him...but don't worry....he has lost the habit eversince he realized that he was at the brink of death....he even lost his will to write those repulsive make out tactics...now he just writes poems that are famously known around here...he even changed his name which is now Jerico Myzuki...a famous poet

Akamari(shocked): wait...are you saying my favorite poet of all time...is Jiraiya....Narutos sensei...the so called pervy sage...are you sure it's the same person....

Phara: yes....(getting up to leave) well I have to go I believe you have somewhere to go at this moment....Jerico is having a book signing today and you will miss it if you don't hurry

Akamari: but his book signing isn't four days from now at eleven thirty specifically

Phara(pointing at the calendar): but it's the eighteenth today and it's ten thirty

Akamari(shocked): omg I've been gone four days!...(pays for her food) thank you lady I got to go...I'll see you around

She arrives at the book signing....there are crowds of women waiting for the largest book store in the village to open for the book signing

Akamari(disappointed): damn if I knew there would be crowds of women here I would of came an hour early

Mianari(walking up to Akamari): are you here to get a signature from Jerico Myzuki?

Akamari: yeah why

Mianari: no reason.....I need to see if this was the right book store....there are two more but they are on the other side of town....I just stopped by to give my husband his lunch

Akamari(surprised): wait....are you Jerico Myzuki's wife....

Mianari: oh I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself I'm Mianari Myzuki wife of.....

Akamari(mesmerized): you were the famous singer who managed the group Starfall....which is my favorite group of all time...but it still upsets me till this day they disbanded about four years ago

Mianari: well it was a good fifteen years with them....but the group just wanted to do thier own things....I believe the main singer is a father of two beautiful little girls...and the guitarist is a pharmaceutical tech the other three became solo artists

Akamari(pointing at the crowd): um...one question...how will you get through the crowd of fangirls wanting your husband....

Suddenly Akamari notices the group move to one side of the book store. A large man in a black suit and silver hair walks past the crowd of scared girls and walks up to Mianari

Mianari: Izuke....there you are is my husband inside?

Izuke: yes he is (showing Mianari the way) he is waiting to have lunch with you before the signing miss

Mianari: oh great I thought I came too late (to Akamari) well it was nice getting to know you...hope to meet you again

Akamari(smiling): yeah I hope so too...and by the way Jerico is lucky to have a wife like you

Mianari: thank you well I'm off bye

Akamari(waving): bye...Mrs Myzuki

#fan fic related #anime #comics

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