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avatarkv · 10 months

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V ! I Know it's for the better. Know it's for the better.

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 5057)

Song: Waiting Room, Phoebe Bridgers.

“Can you hear me, corporal?” He chuckles, “Yeah. I think you can.”

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, consider yourself a dead man.” Your father seethed through the intercom that you could feel his very rage– it frightened you, almost more so than being captured by Quaritch. Jake wasn't the kind of man who liked to make idle threats; it was his commitment that made him the perfect olo’eyktan, but it was purely love that made him the father he is today.

You knew very well what he was capable of.

You tugged at the binds, desperate to loosen them but to no avail. Squirming uncomfortably in your seat, despair settled into your chest like lead and you felt helpless. You didn't even put up a fight to begin with; all those training, just to end up at the root of it all. You could only glare at Quaritch while he looked down at you, fingers pressing the pager on his ear.

“Now don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you have your father’s eyes.” His remark made your gaze falter, disgust coursing through your body. “You know what to do, Jake.”

“Don’t touch her, asshole! She’s just a kid–

“Might’ve gotten a few scratches in, but nothing a few bandaids can’t fix.” Quaritch looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t worry, we show visitors the utmost respect here. I’m certain you’d know our customs around these parts, marine.” His tone is slightly aggressive and there's an air of smugness in his words– he’s provoking him, taking pleasure in knowing that he has the upper hand.

Scratches my ass. They gave you one hell of a shot on your side when they tried to kill off your ilu and they did nothing but put some ragged cloth to stop the bleeding. You knew it wasn’t any deep, but it still hurt– not to mention you’ve lost a lot of blood from their harsh tugging. You wince, thinking about it. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline coursing through your body, you would’ve been in a whole lot of pain.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Same as before. You for her.”

Their voices melted into the background, like a low hum of static passing through your ears. Despite the noise, you feel yourself attune to it after a while and allow yourself to drift away. Eventually, it tuned itself out and you were surrounded by an almost eerie silence.

Your father had said something, you remembered, something you had missed.

You had missed the looming aircraft above– unlike the usual helicopters you knew, this one flew stealthily, as if it was designed to lurk and catch even the slightest of movement. At first, they thought it was merely a lone ilu; they were now at the reef, after all. Your color blended almost perfectly with its skin, movement as fluid as the raging sea. They had shot it, grazing its fin.

“Mawey, mawey!” You had screamed in panic, trying to hold on to its thrashing body. “Dad–”

The ilu struggled, bellowing in pain. It was impossible to form a bond, let alone control your breathing– the bluish-green waters were now tainted with a faint, crimson hue. Blood; familiar blood, painful red.

“__, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay?” It was difficult to make out the words he had spoken over the loud static of the pager. The radio waves were making it hard for either of them to hear properly. Trying again, he shouted, “Sweetheart, I’m–”

From there, they had spotted you; a forest na’vi, sticking out like a sore thumb. Quaritch had most certainly hit the jackpot upon seeing that it was none other than Jake Sully's eldest daughter.

You wondered what he could have uttered in that moment before Quaritch and his people had rushed to get to you. Could it have been an apology– a sorry you’ve been longing for? Sweetheart, I’m sorry for being so tough on you. I’m sorry we had to leave home– leave him. I’ll find you and you’ll be okay. We’re going home.

But the thought of facing his disappointment again plagued you; once it had been his love that held you together, but now this fear kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sweetheart, I’m disappointed in you– how could you put yourself in this situation? How could you put everyone in danger again? What would Neteyam think? I’m tired, __. You tire me.

Yeah, that was surely it.

Your eyes wandered around the room; the unfamiliar white walls reminded you just how far away from home you were and perhaps this time, you could never return.

Quaritch grabs your braid in his fist, tugging on it with a vice-like grip and forcing you to look up at him. You stifle a cry of pain, feeling the throbbing ache all across your scalp as his grip tightens around it. He tugs on it further, wanting a sound out of you, but all you could let out was a loud hiss. “Can’t hear your father, darling, think we have to put on a show.” He sneers, “You must not really love your children, Jake.”

“I understand already–! get your fucking hands off her!”

“I don’t think you understand, really.” Quaritch taunts.

A beat of silence passes before your father's desperate voice echoes through the intercom. “Please,” he pleads, “Don't hurt my daughter."

“There we go,” He finally releases your hair, “I’ll be waiting, Jake.”

Quaritch removes the pager, discarding it on the table just in front of you.

“You must be very disappointed in yourself,” A low hiss erupted from your throat as you gazed upwards. He sat in front of you, mockingly close, yet far enough that you couldn’t do anything but glare. “Does this not remind you of a familiar night?”

“They are coming for you,” Your tone was menacing– livid, as the words snarled from your lips. “And when they do, you’re gonna wish that you’ve let yourself rot in that shack.”

It flashed through his mind– a glimmer of your mother that burned fiercely; a warning. Quaritch straightened his posture, chuckling. “That traitor is coming to save his dear daughter in distress, much like your brother had. We know how it'll end.”

“Not until he kills you first,”

“You’re in a different boat, kid, away from the main one. What happens if I tell him he’d been too late and I got bored?” He shakes his head, snickering, like he had figured it all out– like he had carefully planned for everything to work out just so.“That this kid had too much of a mouth on her that I had to cut her throat?”

His words had struck you– a low blow. You feel as if your mouth has suddenly gone dry and the lump that appears in your throat lodges itself there stubbornly, refusing to move. No words came out of your lips, but a pathetic low sob. He was going to kill your father and he could succeed in doing so. “You’re one sick man.”

“You know your brother didn’t have to die,” His voice held no remorse and you wondered how someone could sleep so soundly. He stands up, dusting his pants, “But your father had it coming. Now stay here and be a sweetheart.”

Before he walked out, Quaritch had looked down on you one last time. There, you realized that you doomed yourself beyond salvation. You were nothing and he made sure of that— had cut you on a barely healing wound and now it reopened, bleeding more than ever.

Eywa must’ve turned her back. No child of hers would have suffered such trouble– and you were young. So young, you think that the stories of her were absurd. One more miracle, you needed just one more.

The lights dimmed when the doors closed, leaving you in the dark with your thoughts.

They were arguing again.

Tuk was nestled close to Kiri, the two of them huddled together in front of the table. Lo'ak sat on the other side, rising slightly from his seat in an effort to eavesdrop and make out whatever he could hear from their parents’ conversation.

Something was off and gravely so. Nothing ever good rooted from a fight and they barely do, not until the past occurrences. It had to be the sky-people.

“I don’t feel so good,” Tuk muttered, her grip tight around her belly as if she could hold in the pain. “The last time this happened was when we left our home.”

“We’re not leaving, Tuk.” Kiri quickly assured her.

Their meal had gone cold and the silence was deafening. They all waited with baited breath, trying not to fidget or move. The suspense was growing thick in the air and they didn't know how much longer they could bear to remain idle, wondering what the hell was happening.

As if their prayers had been answered, Jake hurriedly walks inside, eyes falling to his panicked children. It made his heart more and more heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort them. Neytiri had already gone to Ronal’s

“Kids,” His voice was low and firm, and it made his shoulders stiff in anticipation, “Make sure everyone stays here. No one goes out the reef, understand?”

“Wait—” Lo’ak abruptly stands up, staggering to his feet. “What’s happening? Where’s __?”

“They took her.” It was all the answer he needed. The sky-people had found them. “Lo’ak, stay here with your sisters. I mean it.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here while __ is in danger—”

“I need one child! One child to listen when I tell them to stay,” He raises his voice with every word, but it wavers as he speaks— Jake could barely keep himself together, eyes betraying his authority. His gaze sharply shifts to his daughters, watching intensely as the scene unfolds. “Kiri, please.” She only replies with a curt nod and Lo’ak visibly deflates.

He needed them to stay here— here, where it’s safe. Here where Quaritch couldn’t touch them.

From afar, he embodied the fierce olo’eyktan that he is, but truthfully, he trembles as a father. He blamed himself for that night– blamed himself for everything that had happened. Jake couldn’t risk losing another one. Not only will he be failing his family, he’d fail Neteyam again, most of all.

Lo’ak slumps his shoulders, pushing past Jake. “This isn’t fair,” He mutters under his breath. Jake’s eyebrows knitted tightly and he knew damn well there was no going back from talking back to a parent. “You aren’t being fair– how could you ask us to standby?”

“I’m not asking, Lo’ak. It’s an order.”

“That’s even worse!” He shouts in reply and Jake is taken back.

There it is. The emotions desperate to claw out of their throats. If toughening them to an extent was a good thing, why was it biting him in the ass right now? Jake’s bottom lip quivered slightly. He didn’t need this– not now. He would’ve dealt with it properly, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand. Jake didn’t need his kids reminding him how he fucked up. He didn’t need another heartache when he had to toughen himself out.

“This isn’t the time for attitude, Lo’ak–” Jake exhales a deep breath, his eyes squinting as he clenches his jaw. He tries hard to keep himself in check, the last thing he wants is to lose his temper. Talk to them. Calmly. “You think I have the upperhand? Your sister needs me right now, what don’t you understand?”

“This would not have happened if you could just listen!”

“Well I’m here now, Lo’ak– just what do you have to say?” He stares back at him with an intensity that matches his own, voice slightly raised.

A million thoughts raced his mind. Will he blame him for bringing him here–? Here in awa’altu where they had to unlearn everything they have known– here in awa’atlu, away from his brother; but when silence had only replied to his outburst, he sighed wearily.

“Right now, we do not see eye to eye, boy.” His tone turns gentle, surprisingly. It causes Lo’ak to become rigid– unmoving as he takes in his father’s unfamiliar nature. The atmosphere shifted so somewhat awkward. Lo’ak only knew how to deal with his father’s anger. “And that’s on me. I know you blame me for being a shit father, and I want you to. I messed up and I keep messing up.”

“Then why can’t you be better?” He said so casually, like it was something Jake could accomplish with a flick of a switch, as if it was an easy task she simply hadn't put in enough effort for. But that was never the case.

Truthfully, he didn’t know what to answer. Didn’t want to tell his son that this was already his best. He liked to think that no father is perfect– eased him just a little knowing that there were far worse than him. But maybe he was no better.

When he knew that Neteyam’s eyes would never open again, he thought that hurt had hit the lowest of lows. But here he was, watching his son’s hateful gaze and had never been so wrong.

His ears flattened. “Stay here Lo’ak, please.”

Coward. Jake was a coward.

Lo'ak let out a frustrated scoff, quickly turning his head away and storming off in anger. He left the Marui so hastily that Jake was left alone with a crestfallen expression etched on his face. His expression was enough for Kiri to run after him, Tuk trailing behind. She jogged hastily, her breath catching in her throat as she eventually managed to match Lo'ak's pace.

“Lo’ak, they asked us to stay here.” Kiri tried to grasp on his wrist, only for him to retract harshly. They continued to walk towards the shore in an argument, “Lo’ak!”

“They have __, I’m going.” He continues to march towards his ilu, caressing its head in greeting while it mewls in return. “I’m not losing another one, Kiri. She’s my sister.”

Kiri grabs his hand, turning him around to face her sharply. Tuk’s head peeps to watch from behind her legs, “I’m your sister too! You’re scaring Tuk, just let them handle it.”

“What’s going on?” Ao’nung calls. Tsireya had heard of the commotion and immediately went to find Lo’ak and it was no surprise that he’d want to go after his parents.

“This is the sky people we’re talking about! The same people who–” He had exhaled loudly in frustration, his movements jerking and violent as he ran his hands through his braids repeatedly. His face contorts in stress and disbelief, and he yanks on his hair lightly, an attempt to shift the focus of his energy to something tangible instead of this hopelessness that has crept up on him.

“I have to be there.”

“Keep your skxawng ass here, I swear to Eywa.” But her threats fell on deaf ears as he continued to mount his ilu, spear in hand. He threw them one last glance before he sped away, leaving Kiri to call out his name.

Rotxo’s expression grew worried as he watched Lo’ak’s figure disappear amongst the vast spread of water. Forehead creased in concern as he looked around where everyone had been standing, “Are we supposed to let him?”

“Eywa, of course not.” She had clapped towards the Ilus, beckoning them to ride. “Let’s go, people.”

Life was simple back then.

Jake knew he had to pull on his weight, lengthen his patience, and learn fatherhood from scratch. He was far from perfect, but he was sure that even his best efforts would still be better than what his own father had done for him when it came to parenting. His old man had never been there for him in any sense of the word.

“Alright babygirl, your turn.” Jake beckons you to take Neteyam’s place as he lends you his bow.

“He’s gonna come out behind those big rocks,” Your father instructs. He grabs your arm and moves it just a bit higher, steadying your aim with his firm grip. “Slowly, steady. Watch your aim.” You squint your eyes, focusing your sight as the fish comes to sight, stuck between the current and the rocks. With a deep breath, you release your hold, striking it right through its body.

“Good job, sweetheart. Go get it!” He shouts, giving you a big smooch on the cheek as he pushes you to claim your hunt. You giggle, feeling absolutely proud.

As you and Neteyam proudly display the fish you have both caught, he watches with a big smile. “My mighty fishermen, now let’s go home and show mama.”

Bracelets were enough to make his kids happy back then; beads and trinkets he found along his hunts. They would keep it for years to come and Jake thought he had cracked the code. But the gifts turned to few and then none and the ones they kept had burned along the crossfire. He became stricter– tougher on them.

He knew being a marine best than a father.

When his children looked at him, it wasn’t of love— he wasn’t dense with how their shoulders stiffened around him. Jake thought it was a good thing, to keep them all in a straight line, for them to learn discipline early. But as they grew older, they were getting harder to reach and no amount of presents could make them come back.

“Lo’ak started it!” Your eyebrows were heavily knitted, fangs bared as you showed him the broken bracelet. You tightly held onto the beads, afraid that you’d lose more of it.

Your brother had immediately turned defensive, shoulders tense. “If you hadn’t been in the way, it would’ve been avoided!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake quickly interrupted you both, massaging his temples. “One night. One night without any of you bickering. You’re older, __, why can’t you be the bigger person?”

Your heart sank a little. You weren’t growing younger and so was your dad. Jake never took the time to craft, unlike before. The bracelet was from him and it would’ve made you feel better if he had listened.

“No more of this, you hear me? It’s just some stupid bracelet. Jesus Christ.”

Jake wasn’t perfect. He knows that– knows his children deserve better. He fears that when people ask them of him, they’d tell them how great of an olo’eyktan he is– how he fought against the sky-people, but never how he was as a father.

Your father loves you– loves everyone dearly. He would burn the whole world for his children– but the thing about fathers, they have an odd way of showing it.

As they finally near the large battleship, his hand pressed on the pager. “Babygirl, do you hear me?”

Your head perked up at the static coming from the pager discarded on the table right in front of you. Your body jerked against the binds desperately, “Yes, yes– sir I’m here!”

But he couldn’t hear you, not without you pressing on its button in return.

“If you’re listening, I’m coming, okay? Mama and I are coming to get you.”

You let out a stuttered breath, the beginnings of a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you. It was no use anyway. You felt deflated as you sank down into your chair. Tears welled in your eyes, building itself up like a dam.

Jake anxiously waited on the other line, expecting to hear something back from you, but all he heard was the thump of his own racing heartbeat resonating in his ear as time seemed to stand still. His lips trembled as he softly spoke again, “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

But you didn’t. You didn’t since everyone arrived at Awal’tu and for months, this was the first time you’ve heard of it again. It made your chest tighten in response, stomach knotting.

Oh Eywa, you missed your father. Missed him dearly.

This one time he had told you he had loved you. This one time where you needed to hear it the most and you couldn’t say it back. It’s true that your father had stopped being affectionate– but you’ve grown and stopped being as loving as you were as a kid too. You will always be your parent’s child– your daddy’s girl.

“I love you too.”

Life was so much simpler back then, and if Jake had just spoken to you, he may have figured out that his words had more value than any presents he could find. He fears that he might be too late.

“We have to split up.”

“Split up?” Kiri shouts incredulously, holding onto Tuk tightly.

“There are at least three ships here, she has to be in at least one of them.”

“We’ll take the one from the south,” Ao’nung says, Tsireya quickly trailing behind. Kiri groans, knowing she couldn’t do anything but follow. Roxto followed her as they all nodded to each other, speaking in unsaid terms. Be safe. Please.

Lo’ak trots ahead, letting out another eager yip as they make their way towards the distant ship far up north. You had to be on one of them. You had to.

As he stealthily moves through the area, searching every nook and cranny, Lo’ak is determined to find you, leaving no stone unturned nor any corners checked. The lack of people around was suspicious and it made the atmosphere more eerie. As he scanned every cell, his eyes caught a battered Na’vi, head hung low– you. Quickly, he broke down the door with heavy locks.

“Lo’ak!”

“__!” He immediately rushes to you, taking off the restraints with brute force. Without a second thought, you engulfed him in a hug, nearly pushing him off his feet while he frantically searched for any serious injury, eyes swiftly scanning the cuts on your skin. “We have to go now.”

Both of you hurriedly try to exit the ship, steps heavily thumping across the metal floors. It was silent. Too silent. Like there hadn’t been a war at all. The ship was quiet, other than the crashing waves and footsteps. Not to mention the lack of recoms surrounding the area, you grew more and more nervous. “Where’s dad? He’s–”

“On another ship, we have to go.” He pulled you closer the edge where his Ilu had been waiting,

“Lo’ak, we’re not leaving him, are we?”

“Dad can handle it, I’m only here to take you home. Now please, come with me–”

“I know you don’t want to leave him too.” his lips drew into a thin line in response, immediately growing silent. His heart was thumping wildly, knowing that the decision was his to make. “Lo’ak, we can’t leave him.”

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“Run– run, go!” Lo’ak's call was still echoing in your head as you sprinted, bullets whizzing past in all directions. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins as you darted and weaved throughout the area, momentarily hiding behind a steel wall.

Both of you had been searching for Jake and everyone but despite your best efforts, the only thing you were ever able to find was more trouble. What was supposed to be a relatively straightforward endeavor had quickly become an arduous task. You feared for your life and your brother’s.

“We have to jump now, __.” He pulls you out from your thoughts, panting heavily.

“We haven’t found dad yet or anyone– they could be in danger!”

“Listen, I’m not about to lose you in another dumb decision of mine. We’re going, do you understand?” He tugs on your wrists tightly. The look on his face told you that his decision wasn’t open for any negotiation anymore– this was about you and your safety. You offer a solemn nod, feeling a knot forming in your chest as your frown deepens.

As the shots come to an end, the avatars begin to disperse, frantically searching for both of you. Lo'ak forcefully pulls you to your feet and dashes towards the edge ready to take a leap, but the ship lets out a sharp screech as it leans further and further downwards into the vast ocean, both of you caught completely off guard. Water quickly rushes up to bathe the deck in a sea of white froth and foam, its relentless waves rocks the boat back and forth so harshly that you fall to your knees.

Lo’ak frantically looks around for something to hold onto, but it all happens too quickly; just as his hands latch onto a railing, it snaps and he begins to tumble along with the current and down an open trapdoor. He quickly holds on to its rusty edge, “__!”

You immediately slide towards him, grabbing his wrist. “I got you, just hang on.” While your other hand clutched your bloodied side, you groaned as you felt the skin surrounding it stretch, ripping more and more as you tried to hold on. “Lo’ak, please.”

“I can’t– I can’t!” Both your grips are loosening and you choked out a sob, feeling absolutely helpless. You could feel it– his fingers slowly slipping from your wrist. Your heart hammered on your chest as you extended your other hand.

“Brother please, grab my other hand,”

Another wave crashes towards both of you, and in that moment your grip on his wrist slips. You can feel the panic rise within you as you shout out his name desperately. His body falls, water completely engulfing him.

Without any hesitation, you jump down after him.

You hastily scramble out of the water, eyes wide and scanning the wreckage that surrounds you for any sign of Lo'ak. All around you there is nothing but the ship itself, pushing you down with it. It loudly creaks once again, the sound vibrating off the walls.

You try to regain your composure– breathing slowly and steadying the beat of your heart, only for it to race yet again as another body emerges from the water, coughing violently.

“Lo’ak–!”

“I can’t find an exit.” He says, breathing heavily.

“I’ll go check again, you stay here.” The water was already rising and your frantic state wasn’t helping.

you said as the water level began to climb higher and higher. Your frantic state wasn’t helping either of your cause, but there was no time to think of that now. In order for the two of you to make it out alive, one of you had to remain calm and focused. You had to be just that– the bigger person. The big sister Lo’ak needs right now.

“No! You’re bleeding, I’ll go look.” He protests and you both exchange banters.

“I am your older sister, Lo’ak, listen to me– just let me do this.”

“I don’t care. You’re hurt already.”

“Lo’ak, don’t be so stubborn right now.”

“I’m a better swimmer than you!”

“Why are you being so stubborn, just stay here–!”

“Just let me do this for you, Neteyam!”

And that stuns you both.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He croaks, the words barely escaping his trembling lips. His guilt is palpable in the air as he hangs his head low in shame, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that is threatening to choke him. Lo’ak had to let it out now. Now that you’re here– now that you and him might never come out alive. “Maybe if I didn’t insist on coming there, we would still be back at home– with him. Maybe if I didn’t force everyone to come along, he would not have the need to save us.”

“Lo’ak, please..”

“But I did– I did, and now he’s gone. I lost him and I can’t lose you too,” You stayed there, like the water surrounding you was anchoring you on that very spot. You could only stare at him as he poured his every guilt. Your heart ached for Lo’ak– Lo’ak, your baby brother. Lo’ak who tried so desperately to be seen. “It’s my fault, __. I was just so jealous– so jealous that I forced you to join in because maybe then, you’d want to spend time with me too. I wanted what you had with Neteyam, what Kiri was to Tuk.”

“But I miss him, I miss my brother so bad.” Lo’ak continues to weep, tugging on his hair– hurting himself. “I hate that my body didn’t move towards you– towards him that night. Maybe then, I would’ve said goodbye. Maybe then, I would’ve told him I was sorry.”

You slowly swam to him, awkwardly taking his hands. Siblings were such a funny concept. They could say the harshest, most meanest thing– hurt you to an extent because they know you more than anyone else. But they would do anything– absolutely anything, just to keep you safe. Hell, would give a kidney if it means that you’d live. You miss Neteyam, terribly so, but does losing him make you less of a sister?

“I’m sorry, __. I’m sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but every time you looked at me, all I could see was him. I miss Neteyam. I miss home. I want to go home.”

“We’re going home, okay?” You pull him close in your arms, burying your head on the curve of his neck as you try to contain a sob. “I see you, brother.”

“I’ve been nothing but difficult.” You feel his breath hitch as he tries to steady his breathing, heartbeat slowing down. “I don’t like how everyone has become since he died.”

“Me too, Lo’ak. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing circles on his back. “I’m so sorry. I’m here now.”

As the two of you hold each other tightly, the water continues to rise around you with no sign of relenting. You both know that it will only be a matter of time until this ship finally gives in to its fate and sinks beneath the surface yet neither of you want to let go. There was something comforting with having Lo’ak near now that he had spoken of his troubles– something light.

“We’re going home.”

This was it, you thought, this is the end.

☆ mauve here! i know this has been long overdue ;( BUT FINALLY, IT'S HERE. don't really know if i should be adding another chapter or just stop with an open ending hahah hopefully this was painful enough because my brain is bleeding and i can't wait to start another series. -

please tell me how i did! i really enjoy interacting w my moots nd readers ;( it's like a reward (ALSO i'm sorry if i forgot to tag someone! some of the names don't really pop up too ;(

smooch!

tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnger @abbersreads @historygeekqueen @anxietydrogz @kau7itz @winxschester @1mawh0re @thefirst-ofus @tsoomie @wheeeelys @lunamhm565i @ayanelisa @sully-stick-together @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @jackiehollanderr @dreamsholdpowers @aimsro @violilaqrs

#mauve writes ☆#family angst #family feels #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

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philistiniphagottini · 2 months

Note

I’m trying not be everywhere but I really need to just spill my thoughts somewhere. And where better then here? I’ve been listening to old classics, like frank Sinatra, Elvis, Fats Domino, (which I recommend “blueberry hill” from) and some others but I’ve been listening to “Aline by Christophe” and I’m just imagining slow dancing with your fav (not really specifying, you can write for whoever, basically surprise me😭) while they whisper sweet nothings into your ear. The radio/jukebox being muffled in the background while you both focus on each other in the moment. Lowkey thinking about that makes me tear up for some reason-😭 man I’ve just been sending fluff or angst💀 which I would like to apologize for if thats not what you are in the mood to write😭

-💧

I love listening to music so if you have any more suggestions, I am all ears. (I'm going to check out the ones you already mentioned in this post) So many characters jumped to mind for this prompt but I decided to go with Welt Yang ((sorry if you don't know him)) because a few other characters I thought of I kind of hurt myself with thinking about because they would have been so angsty. Fluffy but angsty. Anyways, thanks for the prompt enjoy being basically an old, married couple with Welt :)

It was late at night when you decided to tinker with the phonograph nestled in the passenger car of the Astral Express. The rest of the crew had gone to bed ages ago, save you and your life partner, Welt. You didn’t even hear the familiar, adorable footsteps of the Train’s Conductor who usually roamed the halls at night to make sure every one was asleep. Alas, it was peacefully silent, yet you wanted a little noise to fill the void.

You continued to toggle through the vast amounts of records kept on the beloved phonograph, your eyes narrowed in concentration as you tried to find one that you would enjoy. Something soft, not too loud, lest you risk waking the other passengers. A small sigh blew past your lips. You didn’t even recognise half these songs. Where were all the old classics? Like Sinatra or Elvis? You shook your head. You were going to have to teach the youngsters around here about the meaning of your impeccable tastes. As you continued to scroll, your finger abruptly paused over the button when the name of a familiar song flashed by. A smile lit up your features as your finger hovered over the play button. When you pushed the button, the phonograph hummed to life, loading the record as the needle lowered to the disc and it slowly begun to spin.

You turned around as the soft tune started to fill the air, injecting the silence with a little bit of life. Welt’s ears perked up at the familiar melody gracing his ears and his head immediately picked up. His eyes were focused on you as you waltzed across the room, only stopping once you were standing in front of the chair he was currently sitting in. A playfully smile tugged at your lips, your eyes sparkling like stars as you held your hand out to him.

"May I have this dance, Mr. Yang?" you asked.

You wriggled your fingers in front of his face, trying to entice him further. A smile tilted the older gentleman’s lips as he reached for your hand. His touch was gentle as your fingers intertwined and he leaned forward, placing his lips upon the delicate skin of your knuckles. You chuckled softly, your pulse jumping under the press of his mouth. Welt peered up at you behind the thick rim of his glasses, his eyes holding a fond warmth for you.

"You may" he murmured into your skin, his breath ghosting over your skin and sending goosebumps prickling along your arms.

With a graceful smile you pulled your partner to his feet, making him leave his walking stick behind as you continued to pull him to the middle of the train cart. The hum of the train’s engine was barely audible over the music, the lights dimmed as the Astral Express continued to glide across the vast sea of stars in the deepest reaches of space. It was the perfect setting to accompany you both, along with the old and familiar tune. You squealed as Welt suddenly spun you around, lifting his arm high above your head as you twirled before collapsing into his open arms. Your stomach erupted with butterflies, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest as you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders. Welt’s hands came to politely rest high on your waist; hands steady on your hips as you slowly swayed to the beat.

This song stirred so many memories, the lyrics reminding you of days that had long passed. You softly hummed along to the tune, your eyes never once straying from your partner’s as you gently stepped in time to the slow, melodic beat. Your fingers walked along the seam of his coat, flicking at the small specks of lint that clung to the material as a warm noise of content stirred in the back of your throat. When was the last time you had danced like this?

"Do you remember when we first heard this song?" you asked.

A soft hum stirred in Welt’s throat and you could see the twinkle of recognition in his eyes. His thumbs brushed along your hip bones as he stared down at you with lidded eyes, the memories that jumped to the forefront of his mind still so fresh that he could have sworn that they only happened yesterday. He smiled fondly at the memory.

"Your hair was a little longer back then" he replied.

One of his hands left your waist, his large palm coming to gently rest on your face and cup your warm cheek. Wisps of your hair curled around the tips of his fingers as he tucked a few loose strands behind your ear, his voice barely above a breathy whisper as he continued to recall.

"We took that long walk along the beach. I still remember the way the moonlight shone through your clothes."

"Do you mean after I took them off?" you responded with a devious smirk.

You jumped in his grasp when his fingers roughly pinched your hip in retaliation, causing your body to press further against his. A warm laugh bubbled up his throat as his arms wrapped around your waist, large hands brushing against the small of your back to usher you closer. You pouted up at him, arms coiling around his neck as you continued to dance among the stars. You nuzzled the tip of your nose against his cheek as you took a deep breath, the familiar scent of his cologne curling in your lungs and making your head feel a little giddy.

"We spent hours there, among the sand and the stars" you quietly added.

"I thought that night would never end" Welt mumbled, his hot breath fanning across your cheek.

You tipped your head back, your lips ghosting over his when you spoke.

"I didn’t want it to" you admitted.

"Nor did I, my dear."

You could feel a constellation of tears clinging to the edges of your lashes as a lump formed in your throat. Stars above, how did you ever manage to meet such a beautiful man such as him. You were on the verge of tears, ready to burst apart at the seams as your heart swelled with pure affection for the man you held so tightly in your arms. The music from the phonogram faded into the distance, silence permeating the air once more as you and Welt continued to dance. Minutes seemed to stretch on for hour, the warmth of Welt’s embrace tempting you to stay, silently pleading for you to never let go. You both stopped dancing when the time felt right, your chest feeling light as you stepped back. You sniffled loudly, wiping your fingers under your eyes to brush away the tears that clung to the corners of your vision.

"Okay, this reminiscing is making me all teary eyed. I think it’s time we turned in for the night. Come on Grandpa, time to get you into bed."

Welt chuckled as he quirked a bemused eyebrow at you. "Grandpa? Come now, I’m not that old."

"You have grey hairs" you retorted.

"And so do you."

You huffed loudly, a sad pout tugging at your lips. Welt adored the look and he couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around you again, his lips brushing against your face to try and ease the tension from it.

"Come now love, you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you."

You hummed at his words, leaning into his touch as your body started to relax. "I see you haven’t lost your charm."

Welt smiled as he kissed your forehead, the gesture holding more affection than words could ever comprehend.

#my writing #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr welt #welt yang x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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tammyjackson50-blog · 1 year

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five years ago || P.2

(writing without any plans, just what U'm thinkung at the moment, so I hope that it will turn out ok lol)

//<;- Part one // Part three ->

Summary: What happens when you find your way back to a good friend from the past through a song he wrote five years ago?

A week later

It has been a week since I made that post , and ever since then I didn't return the note with his song back to the box, I put it right next to my computer.

I already memorized the note because of the number of times I have read it.

I didn't believe that he would see my post, like, what are the odds? But….I check my email every day, even though I'm trying to just forget about it.

Anyway, it has been five years, will he even remember it at all?

"Bestie, did you check your email?" Kat asked, "Yes, I did, nothing new, Katie, we should just forget about it, it's a bit ridiculous, I guess," she laughs. "Oh, come on, don't tell me that you don't want him to see your post, that you are not waiting to talk to him again, so he could write songs for you again." I looked at her smiling—" not funny, didn't laugh “.

She got up and went over to the door of my room. "Come on, party pooper, let's go out , maybe an ice cream will cheer you up." I got up. "Who said that I'm upset?”.

The weather is getting hot, summer is around the corner.

"Kat, do you really want to go out of town now?" I asked my very lovely friend, who just loves doing stuff spontaneously. "YES, It’s going to be fun! " she said as she held my arm while we were walking towards the freaking train.

20 minutes later

"Ice cream, Katrina, ice cream," she looked at me, rolling her eyes, "I know, Y/N, I know! Sorry, Mcfly, but I know this good place, and they have amazing ice cream” She calls me Mcfly because of my favorite movie, "Back to the Future."

"I really hope that this ice cream is worth it, Styles." guess why I call her like that.

Few minutes have passed, and there are a lot of people in the train station, obviously, people who are going to work, people who are going to meet their friends or family members, hang out, and there are people who are not going on the train, people that are trying to make money by singing or playing instruments in the train station here.

Our train finally came, since there were many people it was kinda hard to get into the train.

As the door opened we were getting pushed by the people around us, people that are trying to get into the train like we are.

As we tried to get in,I accidentally pushed someone, causing them to drop the drink they were holding.

Somehow I managed to bend down to the floor to pick up the drink, while all the people around me rushed to the train.

I just prayed that I wouldn't get pushed or something.

“ I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to” he got up and I looked at him “ no no that’s fine- Y/n? “ Everything stopped, for a moment I forgot about the train and Kat, it felt like a weird dream, he was the last person I thought I'd see “ Eddie? “ it was hard to even hear what he was saying because of the loud noises in the background but I swear that he said my name. “ Y/N WE NEED TO GO “ Kat grabbed my arm and then he held my hand, I don’t know what he tried to do but everything was going so fast that I held his hand for a second and I was already on the train.

We didn’t find a place to sit in the train for obvious reasons, we were a bit squashed because of the amount of people that were in the train.

I looked at my hand trying not to drop what I'm holding—a ring, a ring that slipped off one of his fingers, a ring that really made me believe it was really him and not just someone who looked like him.

Back at home

It was a nice day, honestly , and it went by really fast.

After we got out the train I told Kat what happened before she grabbed my arm so I wouldn't miss the train. We were in the line for the ice cream, it did look like a very promising place if you ask me.

“ What the fuck Y/n, are you joking ? “ she said and her voice was getting high from what I told her “ I wish I was joking Kat, I’m really confused “ the line was getting shorter.

“ What are you going to do now? “ I looked at the ring and said “ no idea Katie, probably nothing you know “.

We were talking about what happened, Kat wanted me to have fun and not overthink so much ,so we went to the mall and we just enjoyed the day together until the evening.

And here I am now, sitting in front of my computer in the dark, thinking about what happened in the train station, until my thoughts were cut off when a notification sound came out of my computer.

I got a message from my Gmail, so I clicked on it,

It was from someone named

- @ Michelle86

would you like me to continue?

Btw, my favorite movie is back to the future lol

#eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #boyfriend #fun fiction #imagine #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson x you #stranger things #harry styles #back to the future #marty mcfly

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pleaktale · 9 days

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“In another universe, we had five more minutes. The thing is; I found one where I can have all the time remaining.”

Snippet of Melissa Stacy and the past meeting the future.

(spider oc x canon, Hobie Brown pairing)

"You're acting strange." A feminine voice echoed through the room, Melissa, or as known Honey Web had her arms crossed in front of her chest while staring down at Miguel. She had been called for a new mission on Earth-97881 for some stronger anomaly; alongside some other spiders that, as Miguel said, were people she hadn't met yet.

If that depended on Miguel, she would never. But all of the stronger ones were already too occupied with other villains, so he hadn’t much of a choice.

"I wonder why," he replied back, tone impatient.

Melissa just rolled her eyes, her sight falling on Lyla who gave back a shrug, the little AI company shifting in the air back to her little tech world. It had been a while since the spider was alone there, waiting for the others to come so they could go ‘do their thing’. The way Miguel was avoiding her eyes had Melissa with her guard up – the feeling of something coming up already growing on her chest.

"Just…" he broke her train of thought, letting out a deep sigh and muttering a quiet 'I hate my job'. Her eyes immediately gave full attention to him.

"I'm sorry," he finally looked at her.

"You're scaring me," Melissa whispered with squinted eyes.

"Not intentional."

And with that, the door of his room opened once again, revealing another two young spiders coming in.

"Finally," Melissa whispered to herself, spinning on her heel to see the new faces with a quick wave of her hand. Her spider senses going off at the sight of another blonde girl – just a little younger.

"Stacy too?" she asked, making Melissa tilt her head with a quick laugh. The girl had a black and white spidersuit with some pink highlights. Cool person – she thought.

"Yeah, Melissa Stacy," her hand propped up for a hand shake.

"Gwen!" she greeted with a quick shake of hands, pointing to the guy by her side. "This is my friend Miles, from Earth-1610."

"Oh so it's you! I've heard about you before," Melissa greeted with a high five, genuinely happy to finally meet the oh so talked Miles Morales – well, mostly from Miguel complaining.

"Of course you did," Gwen mumbled.

"It's me! Hope what you heard were good things, though…" he replied with a half smile, his hand scratching the back of his head.

"Enough chatting," Miguel stopped the little talking happening in his office, his eyes falling on Gwen, "where's he?"

"He?" Melissa was the one replying first.

"Right 'ere." spoke a male voice, coming from the small corridor towards the office, a heavy british accent to it.

Somehow, Melissa felt a hint of familiarity when hearing that tone.

"Well, there's your answer," Gwen finally replied to Miguel who just rolled his eyes, probably asking the gods for patience.

"Oi, we goin' now?" he asked, and now it made sense to Melissa why Miguel asked in that tone.

A tall guy walked in, black skin, hair in wicks, black leather vest and overall a really punk look to his appearance. The guitar strapped on his shoulder didn't go unnoticed nor the multiple piercings. His lanky figure walked closer.

"Yeah, prolly'," Gwen answered.

And when he was close enough, it suddenly hit. The way Miguel was acting now made sense to Melissa, why he said he was sorry and why Lyla ran away from the scene after that, his tone when calling him. Him who was no one more than Hobie Brown, but as if he had more time, more luck, if Melissa had been just a little bit faster that day.

She heard some more chatting but it was just background noise at the moment, eyes locked on the guy in front of her who seemed clueless to the storm of thoughts happening on her mind. To say her heart was racing was a statement, it was loud and clear, the blood pumping being heard on her own ears. Melissa could swear she also heard Miguel say something like ‘I tried’ in the back.

“And who are ya?” his voice took her out of it, eyes fluttering towards his own in an embarrassed manner.

“Oh, I…” Melissa started, words failing her for a moment, “I’m Melissa, Earth-1207. It’s… nice to meet you.”

In reality, she was screaming internally for Miguel to help her out of that one.

“Nice to meet ya, Mel,” his hand got up for a high five, “I’m Hobie Brown.”

Her hand met his in a friendly high five, the feeling all too familiar. A small smile made its way to her face, eyes getting a soft gleam to them. Melissa bit down the urge to say “I know”.

first post ever of my writing, pretty much nervous (´TωT`) but I hope is to someone's liking! I'm accepting critique as well since english isn't my first language (may have some traits of my mother language, sorry for that).

If you want to ask something about them, feel free to sent an ask or leave a comment, I would love to answer! ( ´∀｀ )b

Also I'm new to this whole tumblr posting thing so if the post looks a little wonky, excuse my newbie ahh... OK! ENOUGH TALKING! Thank you for reading, see you soon! 🫶

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saiyanlpkwife2013 · 7 months

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Midnight Siren

Chapter Five: Secrets

Romantic relationship: Hitoshi Shinso x y/n (female/AFAB)

Chapter warnings: Cursing

MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT BELOW THE "KEEP READING" BREAK.

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn is not one of your favorite things to do.

Aizawa wanted to start early in order to make the most of the individualized training sessions you would have at the training camp, which you were grateful for; however, 5:30am rolls around and you start wondering if this is gonna be worth it. You start to realize why the man always looks so tired all of the time.

You quickly get dressed in a tank top and athletic leggings and head towards the dining hall, remembering that breakfast would likely consist of just toast that you would make yourself this morning. Upon entering, you see Aizawa already there with a cup of coffee.

“Morning.” He says sleepily. “I trust you completed your assignment last night and slept well.” It was a statement more so than a question. To be honest, you were surprised that he was chatty at all this morning.

“Yes sir, I did. I’m looking forward to learning new ways to use my quirk to its full potential and I have some ideas that I am excited to experiment with.”

“Very good. Once Shinso joins us, we can get started.”

You two enjoy a comfortable silence while you butter your toast and Aizawa lazily sips at his warm beverage. A cursory glance at the man, no one would expect someone so dedicated to his students. His overall aura came off as detached but to someone paying attention, quite the opposite is true.

In the short amount of time that you had been under his wing, you already started to see him as a father figure. Of course, this wasn’t hard considering the man you called father was, well, everything you DIDN’T need. Maybe that’s why you so appreciated the man in front of you. He offered you accountability but also understanding, whether he realized it or not. Even if you becoming a hero somehow fizzled out, there’s no way you would ever regret transferring since it meant that you had him as someone to look up to.

Suddenly, the door to the dining hall opens and in walks the indigo haired man. Geez, he looks almost worse than he did yesterday. I’m guessing he didn’t sleep very well.

Aizawa noticed this too, though didn’t necessarily say anything about this out loud. You heard him think to himself, I guess the insomnia is still a problem. Hmmm… We will have to have this addressed at some point, otherwise it could affect his fighting ability… His mind wandered off, considering possible solutions while simultaneously remembering that coffee was going to be the only thing that would help him get through the day. His mind quickly became a soft background noise to you.

“Good morning, Shinso. I hope you slept well.” You say brightly, though already knowing the answer to your sentiment was the exact opposite.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. You notice a soft blush run across his face and the tips of his ears at the sound of your voice. You hear Shit.

“Everything alright?” You ask when your initial greeting was met with silence. Plus the internal “shit” had you a bit concerned.

“Yeah, sorry, couldn’t sleep.”

Aizawa raises an eyebrow. “I trust that this won’t interfere with your training today.”

“No sir, it won’t. I’ll manage fine. It’s not like this is a new problem for me.” Except for the fact that I can’t look at her right now without having a DIFFERENT problem.

Confused, you tilt your head slightly but decide to drop it. After all, you didn’t want to raise any suspicion regarding your “secret” quirk so you offer something else instead.

“I know it’s none of my business, so please, if I’m out of line, I do apologize. I was just wondering if perhaps I could help with your sleeping issue.”

Aizawa looks at you with an inquisitive expression while Shinso seems more embarrassed than anything.

Holy fuck. Is she suggesting what I think she is?

“My...uh...quirk can change the emotional atmosphere. If you are having issues falling asleep, I could try to help by introducing a sleepy atmosphere for you. Just a suggestion though. It may not even work.” You know damn well that it will but not wanting to cause him any more distress than he already seems to be experiencing, you shrug off your own proposition.

Is that really her quirk? Why would that be a secret? Wait, am I supposed to even know this?...Shit, her fucking clothes are—

You cut him off before he can finish his thought. “Anyway! You don’t have to accept. I just can sympathize with not being able to sleep very well and—“

“That might be something to consider, Shinso. We can revisit this later. Right now, we have training to do.” Aizawa ends the discussion and gets up from his seat at the table, making his way to exit the dining hall.

You look over to Shinso and you see him intensely inspecting a spot on the ground, refusing to look your way.

“Well, I suppose we better get going.”

“Yeah.” And he quickly walks off without meeting your gaze.

This is going to be a long two weeks.

~*~

You had gone ahead of the two men in an effort to try to have a few more moments of mental silence. You understood where you would be training today thanks to a few quick thoughts running through Aizawa’s mind and you took it upon yourself to let the two of them walk together.

***

Shinso walks beside Aizawa looking at the ground with hands in his pockets, quietly mulling over the most recent interaction he had with you in the dining hall.

“Everything alright?” Aizawa asks without looking in his direction.

“Yeah, well, um. Actually, I’m just more confused than anything.”

“Go on.”

“Well, sir, I didn’t think I was supposed to know what her quirk is and I’m confused as to why it was so casually referenced back in the dining hall.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And…” He waited for his mentor to elaborate further.

“And nothing. It’s not my place.”

Shinso then shifts his focus ahead of him, seeing you walk in the far distance towards your mutual destination, eyebrows furrowed. The HELL does that mean?

“Look, I understand your confusion; however, I must leave the explanation up to Y/N. Just remember: Things aren’t always as they seem. Sometimes half truths or misdirections are necessary. I am hopeful that she might open up to you during these next two weeks. You two have a lot in common which is a large part as to why Principal Nezu and I thought this training course was a good idea. I do feel the need to warn you though: Should she divulge any of her information to you, especially regarding the nature of her quirk, you will be expected to honor the knowledge with the utmost discretion. I trust that you understand I do not do things without reason. With that said, it should be painfully obvious that if you should go against my advice, it could directly affect how you do in the hero course. Understand?”

Shinso’s eyes widen slightly at the gravity of what is being said to him.

“Y-yes sir.” What the HELL is this shit?

“Very good. With that out of the way, let’s get today started.”

~*~

You have already reached the outdoor space that the three of you had been headed. It was a somewhat rocky terrain, with cliffs and boulders scattered throughout the area. You take a moment to familiarize yourself with your surroundings, bringing to mind the various evasive training moves you learned as it feels as though you might need to reference that knowledge sooner rather than later…

Walking up to join you in the middle of the training area, Shinso makes eye contact with you for the first time this morning. You offer a slight reassuring smile as it is obvious that he is embarrassed about something as it relates to you. His heart rate increased ever so slightly causing the atmosphere to feel a little more tense than it did previously.

You resist the urge to use Vibe since you had not received permission to do so from your teacher. Besides, he may not have even noticed the sudden change in the emotional air.

That was just something you were hypersensitive to.

Aizawa walks forward between the two of you until you both are faced with his back. Without turning around, Aizawa keeps his hands in his pockets and begins the explanation of today’s training.

“Today, I have decided to assess where your physical weaknesses lie. Even though you both have quirks that are more suited for stealth opts rather than all out hand-to-hand combat, it would be best to make sure that you are prepared to attack and defend yourselves when that time arrives. Today’s instructions are simple: Shinso,” His eyes flick up to meet his mentor’s piercing gaze as he turns around, “you are to attempt to capture Y/N with the binding cloth.” Shinso’s eyes widen, taking in the instructions he has just been given. Up until now, he had just been attempting to master the scarf on its own, trying to force it to bend to his will. Now he is expected to actually CAPTURE someone?

Great. A chance to make a fool of myself. Just what I have been waiting for.

You chuckle internally at his self-deprecating sarcasm then suddenly

Wait, that means he’s expected to capture—

“Y/N,” Aizawa cuts through your thoughts, intent on finishing his instructions. “Your objective is to not get caught. Understood?”

You nod hesitantly, praying to gods your muscle memory from your evasive training won’t fail you now.

“Very well. To keep you motivated, there is a consequence to every failed capture attempt and failed evasion.” You and Shinso briefly steal a glance at each other, dreading what your teacher has in mind for punishment.

“Each time one of you fails to succeed in your objective, you will need to run two times around the training facility. So, if Y/N fails to avoid capture 3 times, she will need to run 6 laps around the facility. Understood?”

You both nod. I guess it could be worse.

“Think of it as cardio which will assist in endurance training as well. Now, one more thing: You will not be allowed to use your quirks during this exercise. I know it seems counterintuitive, however, building up your physical strength and agility is important. In the event that you are unable to use your quirk to aid in the task at hand, you will still need to be able to offer assistance in the fight against villains.”

Makes sense but it’s not like I can turn off mind reading. I’ll just have to do my best to ignore them...

You look again over to Shinso. His hands absentmindedly twisting around the binding cloth, thoughts leaking out of his mind regarding strategy. You switch your gaze over to Aizawa, wanting to ask out loud—

“Y/N, I understand that there...is a part of your abilities that you cannot shut off.” You gulp. “Just do your best to keep the fight fair.”

Wait, what? Goddamn, this is frustrating.

You wince a little but not enough for either of them to notice. You didn’t want to be the cause of frustration in your fellow classmate. In fact, you were really hoping that the two of you could become closer. Something about Shinso seemed so...genuine. You really didn’t want to screw up any chance of you two becoming friends. You wish you could just explain.

But that would just mess everything up before anything could develop.

No, I have to stick to my guns. He’ll just have to be frustrated. There’s nothing I can do about it.

“Alright,” Aizawa states over his shoulder as he turns to walk towards the edge of the rocky clearing. “Begin.”

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writersmilex · 8 months

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Bitter Revenge

Murphy Pendleton X Fem | Reader

Summary: Carol divorces Murphy and kicks him out and with no other place to go, he goes and visits an old friend. Surely she would let him stay with her.

____________________________________

(Y/n) has made sure that her doorbell is loud enough that she can hear it through her whole house, but she simply didn’t expect to hear it at this hour, from the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth. In a hurry to answer the door, her toothbrush is still in her mouth as she rushes to the door, not really thinking who could be out there at this time, the neighbour seems like the most likely to be calling. But that doesn’t seem the chase when she opens the door…

“Mrmph?” (Y/n) attempts to call with a toothbrush in her mouth that’s full of foam. she swallows the foam and tries again. “Murphy?” she questions again, seeing the man in question looking distraught before her, leaning against the door frame. “Can I come in? Please?” He sounds exhausted and desperate. Who is she to deny him while he is in this state? Even though she hadn’t seen him in years. (Y/n) pushes the door further open and steps aside from him to enter, which he does with a shuffle in his step. That’s when (Y/n) notices that Murphy is soaking wet, evident by the fact that it’s raining lightly outside, he must have been outside for some time to get this wet. If (Y/n) doesn’t do anything about it, Murphy might get sick or something. Of course, she doesn’t want that. So while Murphy makes himself at home, slumping on the couch, (Y/n) rushes to her bathroom to snatch a towel, returning to the living room and throwing the towel in Murphy’s direction, he catches it effortlessly. “Thanks…” He replies and throws the towel over his head to dry off his hair first. “I’ll make you some tea, I still got some.” (Y/n) says and disappears in the kitchen to make him a drink. Murphy takes a moment to take everything in, it’s been a while since he has seen his old friend; (Y/n). They used to work in the same Cinema together, that’s how they met. It was (Y/n) who repeatedly got him out of trouble since then. He even got (Y/n) in trouble once, and he still remembers that vividly. Murphy is surprised she even let him in and is still nice to him after all that has happened. But he really has nowhere else to go. The living room is minimalistic but comfortable, even cosy. It has everything it needs to be called a living room. The warm yellow glow of the lamps colour the room, he can hear the clock ticking through the low-volume radio that is on for the background noise. Murphy fiddles with the fabric of the towel he was given, rough and worn from use, it’s an old towel. Taking a deep breath, Murphy lets his guard down.

Then, (Y/n) returns with two steaming mugs of tea, placing them down on the coffee table neatly and sitting down next to him. The two have a lot of catching up to do.

"What causes you to knock on my door this late?" (Y/n) questions, knowing already that it wasn't pretty by then sour look on his face.

"Carol…kicked me out," Murphy explains solemnly, eyes trained on the floor.

(Y/n)'s shoulders dropped in astonishment.

She had still kept contact with Murphy through letters all these years. She was present at his wedding, and at one of his son's birthday parties, and when his son went missing it got quiet.

Then she heard about the boy's untimely demise.

"Oh, was it about-" "Yes." Murphy cut her off.

(Y/n) gut clenches in sympathy.

Her heart goes out to her friend beside her, a man who just lost everything he cherished dearly. One tragedy after another, his life just put together, had fallen apart just like that.

"Oh my god, Murphy… I'm so sorry that yo-" "Don't bother!" He cuts her off angrily again, waving her hand away when she tries to touch him. He stands up and walks to the window, It's all dark and there is nothing to see.

"It's because of him! He took my boy, he took everything from me!" He roars in anger, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists.

(Y/n) stands up, hands up in an attempt to calm him down, "Murphy you have to ca-" "SHUT UP! Don't tell me to calm down! You don't understand what it’s like to lose someone close to you!" He yells and points at (Y/n) accusingly. That's not true, (Y/n) lost her grandparents and an uncle, she knows damn well what loss feels like.

(Y/n) remains quiet, she knows he is grieving. And he has all right to be, she wouldn't wish this tragedy upon her worst enemy, but she is certain Murphy would.

"He has to pay! He has to pay for what he did! I lost everything!" His anger melts into sadness at the end of his screaming. Shoulders dropping, he presses his hands into his palms, (Y/n) now thinks it's safe to approach him, Placing her hands on his shaking shoulders, she leans against him in a sort of hug.

Now, close. She can hear his muffled gasps of sorrow.

(Y/n) tries not to cry herself, hands moving around his waist to hug him from behind.

After a moment, Murphy turns around in her embrace and hugs her back tightly, holding onto the last remaining piece of his stable life.

~~Two Weeks Later~~

Murphy has been staying at (Y/n)'s place ever since. Sleeping on the sofa. Mixed emotions of boiling anger and a deep depression. He has been hanging around her house, looking like he is not really sure what to do with himself. But he is grateful that (Y/n) took him in, in the first place and he still can’t understand why she did. It’s better than being at a shady motel. Occasionally Murphy would help around the house with minor chores; wash the dishes together with (Y/n), he would water the plants and run errands sometimes. But that was after a full week of lying on the sofa and staring at the ceiling. Then one night everything changed… “I’m home!” (Y/n) calls when the pulls the front door closed. Usually, she’d get a call back from Murphy, but this time she didn’t hear anything. Strange…

Entering the living room, that’s where she found Murphy in his usual spot on the sofa, staring daggers at the TV. (Y/n) walks around to see what he was watching. It’s the news, a police report. “Serial Child Predator; Patrick Napier has been apprehended and arrested for the kidnapping and assault of four boys. Officers say that quote “They put him behind bars and make sure he never comes out.” The New reporter announces and shows four pictures of similar-looking boys around the same age as well. (Y/n) could recognize Charlie’s face anywhere. She’d think Murphy would be glad to hear that the one who killed his son is now in prison where he should rot away. Yet, he looks seething mad, and ready to jump and attack even a mere picture of this Napier guy. “I finally know where he is…” Murphy hisses through his teeth in anger, kneading the denim of his pants in frustration. “Huh?” (Y/n) hums in confusion, but when she thinks for a moment it starts to make sense what he means. Even when working at the Cinema together, she knew Murphy as the type to hold a grudge. And now, (Y/n) fears that Murphy is going to take desperate measures.

She doesn’t say anything, for fear of how he will react. She could only fear what was about to become her life-long friend. ~~~~ And it was the next day when it all went south for (Y/n). She didn’t see Murphy in the morning or in the evening of the same day. But the day after when watching the news, there was another police report. “Last night the police finally caught the man who hijacked a police cruiser and had led a 10-hour chase through the city and neighbouring rural area. The man is 33-year-old Murphy Pendleton who is now arrested and awaiting trial.” …

(Y/n) could not believe what she hearing, Murphy put himself in prison?!! To act out revenge most likely. She should have stopped him when she had the chance, but she was too much of a coward to do it. (Y/n) raises her hand to cover her mouth in utter shock. “Murphy… What have you done?” She mutters, remaining still in her spot to try and process everything. __________________________________________Hashtag More For Murphy.The ending felt a little rushed in my opinion, but the story is already so long…

Thanks for reading

- Smilex

#x reader #reader insert #imagines #angst #murphy pendleton x reader #murphy pendleton #silent hill x reader #silent hill #silent hill downpour

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secretshinigami · 1 year

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Mama Misora

Author: @realtruesuccessor

For: @dillyfirestarter

Characters: Naomi Misora, Original Child Character, Original Villain Character, Kira (mentioned)

Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply

Prompt: Naomi, alive and well several years after the show, has to pick up her gun once more and strap her baby to her back to go fight crime.

Author’s notes: Sorry for the wait! This was such a fun prompt to write, and I hope you enjoy reading the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!

When Naomi Misora gets the call, her first instinct is to say no - and so, that’s exactly what she does. “No,” she tells the FBI assistant director on the other end of the line. “I’m not a field agent anymore.”

The man protests loudly, but Naomi tunes him out. She glances down at her young daughter, Kiko, who is eating mushy sweet cereal out of a brightly-colored plastic bowl. Naomi smiles softly and runs her hand over Kiko’s soft black hair. As Kiko eats messily, the man’s harsh tone becomes background noise through the speakers of the phone.

Just as Naomi is about to end the call, the man says, “We’ve already sent a car to bring you to the train station.”

Naomi sighs and feels her eyebrows draw together into a scowl. “I’ve already told you, I can’t do this,” she snaps. Her patience is wearing thin. “I’m a single mother to a three-year-old girl, and I have no family to support me here.”

“Bring her along! I don’t care!”

The line clicks, and silence follows.

Frustrated and pressured, Naomi goes to find Kiko’s baby carrier before the car shows up at their small home.

The car ride to the train station is quick and smooth, but the train ride into the city is long and tedious. Naomi spends most of her time staring out the window, watching the trees. Kiko sleeps beside her, leaning against her. For most of the trip, the ride is quiet and peaceful, save for the soft clacking of the train in motion.

Towards the end of the line, as they approach the big station in the heart of the bustling city, a single young man boards the train. He’s blond-haired and blue-eyed, wearing an oversized sweatshirt with bold words printed across the chest. Naomi recognizes the expression as a pro-Kira slogan. She reaches out and wraps a protective arm around Kiko as the young man walks by their seat.

“Ugh, there are too many people on this train,” he mutters to himself as he walks down the aisle.

Naomi hears him sit down a few rows back from where she sits with Kiko.

A few minutes later, Naomi stands up and straps Kiko to her back. She approaches the door to the train as it slows to a stop. Behind her, she hears the other passengers begin to stand up and prepare to exit the train as well.

“Outta my way!” A now-familiar voice yells through the crowd of passengers. “Move!”

Naomi turns around and looks for the source of the commotion. Sure enough, the Kira supporter from earlier is pushing past the other passengers in an attempt to get to the front of the crowd. He shoves a small, dark-haired woman out of his way, and she bumps into someone else in turn.

“Hey!” The woman yells, glaring daggers at the Kira supporter. “Watch yourself!”

The young man turns back to look at her, and from this angle, Naomi can’t see his face. “What was that? Was that a threat, you–” His tone is angry; there’s a personal viciousness in the way he speaks to the smaller woman.

Kiko’s whimpers draw Naomi’s attention away from the encounter. Her daughter’s tiny hands reach up and grip the sleeve of Naomi’s black sweater. “Mama, they loud,” Kiko complains.

“Excuse me, can you please be quiet? Your noise is bothering my daughter,” Naomi speaks sharply. Her gaze rests firmly on the young man.

He turns to look at her, anger flashing in his blue eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but hesitates once he notices Kiko sitting in her carrier, staring at him with wide dark eyes. An awkward silence stretches between them.

“Thank you,” Naomi says gently, just as the train doors slide open.

The man’s eyes return to Naomi, and he scowls fiercely at her. “Whatever, lady,” he grumbles, pushing past her. He steps out onto the platform and disappears into the dense crowd of people.

The assistant director glances at Kiko, who stares back at him with innocent dark eyes. He frowns at the toddler. “You brought her here?” He asks, although he can clearly see the child in front of him.

Naomi scowls at him. “That’s what you told me to do.”

Their conversation quickly turns to the case at hand, although Naomi doesn’t miss the way her superior keeps glaring at her child.

“We’re looking for a domestic terrorist,” the man explains, sliding a pile of photos and documents across his desk. “We’ve been monitoring his social media movements, and we gathered that he’s planning an attack on Public Square tomorrow night.”

Naomi takes the documents and begins to flip through them. Her careful eyes scan for any glaring clue or hint that the other agents might have missed. She stops flipping when she notices a manifesto, littered with obvious misspellings, that had been posted to the terrorist’s social media.

“What do you know about his motives so far?” Naomi asks as she reads the manifesto silently to herself. From Naomi’s lap, Kiko glances at the paper, and her tiny face scrunches together in a confused expression.

The assistant director clears his throat. “Well, based on his social media activity, we’ve gathered that he’s probably an extreme evangelist–”

“You’re wrong,” Naomi says, interrupting the man.

“Huh?”

“He’s not an evangelist. There’s no mention of the Christian God in this manifesto, only vague references to a savior figure. Also, there’s a particular focus on crime and justice throughout the post, which suggests something else entirely.”

The man seems flustered for a moment. His eyes are wide, and he blinks a few times before he gathers himself. “What does that suggest?”

Naomi looks at the man in the way an adult might look at a particularly foolish child. “You’re looking for a Kira supporter,” Naomi explains, slow and tense.

“Are you sure?”

Before Naomi can say anything, Kiko speaks up. “Mama, those words are wrong!” She exclaims, fidgeting anxiously on Naomi’s lap. She points a single, pudgy finger at the paper. “Bad words!”

Naomi smiles fondly at her daughter. “She’s right,” Naomi says, “Each sentence has one misspelled word, and when you combine the first letters of each misspelled word, you get another message. K-I-R-A-W-I-L-L-R-I-S-E. Kira will rise.”

As soon as Naomi and Kiko solve the message, the field office starts to boom and pulse with heightened activity. Agents rush in and out of various rooms and offices, making preparations to apprehend the domestic terrorist. The “rise” part of the message implies that the attack will come from the sky, or somewhere up high, so the agents prepare to storm the skyscraper closest to Public Square.

The next day, Naomi finds herself standing with a group of agents in the Prometheus Building. Kiko is strapped to her back, and her firearm is strapped to her hip. Bright sunlight shines through the large glass windows of the building, and Naomi peeks outside to catch a glimpse of Public Square; the streets are bustling with people.

“So high up!” Kiko exclaims in wonder. “They look like ants!”

Naomi has to agree; they are very high above the crowd of people moving around below them. The people resemble tiny bugs, small dark dots dancing through the streets of the city. Something shifts in the pit of her stomach. A chill runs up her spine, despite the warmth of Kiko’s tiny body against her back.

“Kiko,” Naomi begins, her voice strained, “When someone rises up, where do they start?”

Kiko fidgets a bit before she responds. “Um, the ground?” She says, her tiny voice soft and uncertain.

Naomi rushes away from the window, and finds the leader of the operation. He’s a tall man with short dark hair, and Naomi gets the distinct impression that he’s ex-military. “Agent Bradley, we need to head down to the basement,” she says, stepping into his field of view. “We were wrong. The target isn’t at the top of the building, he’s under it.”

Bradley looks at Naomi with distaste. His eyes flick over her shoulder, and Naomi is suddenly filled with the instinct to shield her child from view. She fights the urge.

“Sir, we need to–”

“I heard you the first time, Agent Misora,” Bradley snaps. “The team will remain here, and carry out the operation as planned.”

“But–”

Bradley doesn’t entertain any more of her protests. He walks away, and begins conversing with another male agent.

Naomi narrows her eyes, sending a sharp glare at his back.

A small finger taps at Naomi’s shoulder. “Mama?” Kiko whines nervously. “What’s goin’ on?”

Instead of answering, Naomi tightens the strap of the carrier to make sure that Kiko is secure. She pulls out her firearm and checks to make sure that the weapon is loaded and ready. Then, she turns abruptly and walks purposefully out of the room. No one says anything to her as she leaves.

A few minutes later, the elevator of the Prometheus Building opens at the basement level. Naomi steps out of the brightness of the elevator, leaving the soft classical music and warm tones behind her as she enters the cold, dark basement.

Kiko shivers at the damp chill in the air, but she knows better than to be noisy while Mama is working.

It doesn’t take too long for them to find the target. He’s standing in front of a large metal furnace. His silhouette is dark against the bright glow of the huge heater. He faces the warmth. His face is hidden from view, but Naomi can see the back of his head. He doesn’t react as she approaches him.

Naomi raises her weapon, aiming squarely at the target’s back. “Austin Dean, you’re under arrest. Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.”

The target startles, nearly jumping out of his own skin. He raises his hands in the air and turns slowly, just as Naomi instructed him to do. When he catches sight of her, alone and with a toddler strapped to her back, his eyes go wide in surprise. “You’re the lady from the train,” he says, as his eyes flick from her to Kiko and back again.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Naomi reminds him, taking a few steps forward. Her gun never wavers from its aim directly in the middle of his chest. “Anything you say can, and will, be held against you in a court of law.”

Dean’s familiar blue eyes narrow as he assesses the situation. He lowers one of his hands and reaches for something in his back pocket.

Before Dean can grab whatever he was reaching for, Naomi hits him with a roundhouse kick to the temple. Her shoe slams into the side of his head, and his entire body twists with the impact. He crumples to the ground, out cold.

“Well, that was easy,” Naomi observes as she squats down next to Dean’s unconscious body. She squints at his face, and confirms that he is the young man from the train, the Kira supporter who had been extremely rude to her and the other passengers. She reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small detonator, securing it in her own jacket pocket.

Kiko giggles happily and kicks her feet. “Mama, so cool!”

Naomi takes out her phone, punches a number into the keypad, and raises the device to her ear. “Hello, Assistant Director? The target is secured.”

Hours later, after giving a full report to her superiors, Naomi finds herself back on the train, heading home. She doesn’t regret shunning all of the thanks and praise after her successful capture of the target. All of the awards and honors in the world don’t compare to the feeling of finally going home, being whisked away from the danger and violence, with Kiko sleeping peacefully at her side.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #Naomi Misora #original character #realtruesuccessor #dillyfirestarter #naomi and halle's ambitious anniversary

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raspberryjellybrains · 1 year

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Hello person I never talked to in my life I saw your tags and. Please infodump about the songs for headphones rather than speakers thing if you feel like it bc I really want to know

HI!! it has been a ridiculous amount of time since you sent this, so I am very sorry. however, disclaimer that I have no expertise in music, but I do have a basic knowledge of music theory and lots of exposure (which I'm sure sounds silly, but simply means that I have a trained ear, if not mind).

I have noticed that with music produced before common availability of more sophisticated in-ear listening devices such as IPods or smart phones paired with earbuds or headphones lacks a lot of subtle, atmospheric sounds that mark more contemporary music produced within the last 10-15 years. These atmospheric sounds are things as directly understood as a result of a more isolated listening experience such as bird chirping or rustling leaves or as subtle and musical in nature as a soft chanting refrain or droning tone. Both of these, while different in purpose and nature, serve to fill out the sound of the music where background noise would, allowing artists to fully control the sound experience in a way previously unavailable.

this change can also be considered with the more widespread availability and usage of digital music making; when you have access to a sound effect, you don't have to count on it being there or figure out how to make the instruments you do have make those noises. there have been arguments made for decades (literally since the invention of the synthesizer) as to where or not this counts as part of the artistry as a new facet of the medium to be experimented with and added or diminishes the ultimate purpose and goal of music production. when new phases of technology are created and shared, there is always a boom of exploration coincident with a boom of... laziness, for lack of a better word. those who aim to use this new technology as a crutch rather than a tool. then, as the tide turns on this new technology and all the magic is gone, there's a turn back towards acoustic sound, now with elements of the previous era infused. think heavier guitar of grunge and punk versus 50's rock and how that infusion occurred AFTER synth wave in the 1980's, where those sounds overlap and converge (and, for a more interesting dive into music's role in culture, what that shift signifies).

there's also the issue of volume and dynamics. listening to heavier music with earbuds tends to be kind of unpleasant because that's not how it's designed to be played! the point is that it is loud and disruptive to OTHERS so it is necessarily sort of difficult to enjoy beamed into your ears with the magic of technology. on the opposite end of the spectrum, bedroom pop gets a bad reputation for sucking, especially to play on aux because that's not how THAT genre is meant to be played. it's quiet and has lots of subtle elements that are really easily lost in background noise that genres like death metal are engineered to cover, meaning that elements which serve to unite and fill out more key elements of the song get lost and leave it feeling hollow. there's a philosophy difference there.

which brings me to hyperpop as a perfect example of this change (its an excellent example of a lot things happening in music, even if it's a bit passe now. to editorialize more than I already am, I think it's gonna be one of those things we point to 10 years down the line and see as a huge shift but that remains to be seen). hyperpop uses this technology to blend older approaches to music with more contemporary approaches to sound production, which creates something that feels simultaneously nostalgic and completely alien; it translates really REALLY poorly to speakers because it's that adaption of heavyfastloud to a more isolated listening environment and can't be taken out.

SO TO SUMMARIZE I have no real point I just think it's really neat to look at shifts in cultural understandings and uses of technology through music and I really like thinking about and discussing it! apologies if my tags made it sound like anything other than that. if you have any questions or opinions to add feel free!! I'd love to discuss this more :3

#i grew up on late 80's and 90's alternative music and find it super interesting and so does my dad!#so i know a lot about a very specific timeframe in music supplemented by my own more modern tastes and the research that accompanies it #didnt get deep into music theory here because i didnt discuss chord composition and voicings but i didnt quite know how and where to fit #that in. but i kind of alluded to it with the bedroom pop.#the thing about music is that it contains many more layers than your ears are naturallt going to pick out because theyre used to filtering #things out. so missing one minor element makes a HUGE difference you dont notice until its there.#its like art in that way. with music youre not necessarily representing what people hear but hwat they expect to hear.#i just think music is sick asf!! its very neat!!#except time signatures. time signatures are a little bitch and we dont bring them up on pain of death.#anyway #thanks for the ask!! really sorry i left it for so long :(#music #raspberry responds

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whatisreggieshortfor · 2 years

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Vigilante Part Five

When Aizawa showed up with the pros, he didn’t have time to grab you before you were gone again. He’d tried his hardest. But he saw the look on your face. Not so much like you believed he didn’t try, but that you’d resigned to the fact that he failed you. And that didn’t sit well with him.

When you were essentially dropped into the Nomu factory, you actually weren’t expecting it. Not many things actually surprised you anymore, but this one did catch you off guard. You blamed the blow to the head you’d taken. You could feel the danger senses rising, and you knew the guy Shigaraki and Kurogiri had talked about was here. How were you going to get out of this?

When All Might showed up, you were just waiting for a chance to run. If you could get out of the building, you’d be out of the way. But All for One kept pushing back against the number one hero, keeping the two of them between you and your escape. And then the wall near you shook with the force of a small explosion, and a very familiar head of pink hair popped up, “Hey gear head! Let’s get moving! I didn’t bring enough explosives to deal with villains.” You were almost amused with her. Despite not being a hero in training, she came to your rescue.

“Hatsume!” You rushed to her, never looking away from the villains in the room, “What the hell are you doing? I thought you said I was the one with the death wish!”

She snorted as she helped you through the hole, the two of you running down an alley, “Your sugary friend called me. I guess he realized I had trackers in all the projects I had worked on. I didn’t have time to input the parameters for a specific equipment search, so I just had to find the cluster that was together. You.”

“You track us?”

“Duh. When I get into the biz, I want to be able to have exact locations to dispatch medics when the heroes need them.”

When the two of you got back to UA, Aizawa and Power Loader were waiting for you. You watched her suppress a grimace, knew that she wouldn’t have gotten clearance for the rescue, and you stepped in front of her to bow to the teachers. “I’m sorry. I’ll take my punishment, and hers.”

Aizawa watched you as you stood up straight, curious but confused. You were taken, you didn’t walk into their hands willingly. “Why would you be punished?”

“I…” You weren’t sure what to say. He could see your brain working, trying to come up a reason. “I am the reason she was in harms way. I could’ve gotten away in the forest, but I didn’t.”

“And why didn’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms, he already knew the reason. He heard the report from the other boys already. He just wanted to see if you’d admit it.

You went wide eyed, “I-I-I…” you sighed, resigning yourself to the truth, “I just wanted to keep them safe.”

The teachers shared a look, cracking the barest of smiles on their faces, “We know, problem child. We’re just glad you could finally say it out loud. As for punishment…you’ll both be on cleaning duty for the month.” Neither of them gave you a chance to reply before Aizawa ruffled your hair and they walked away. You blinked at Hatsume, but she just grinned a mischievous smile.

“I’ll take care of the cleaning.” You offered, “You can just tinker away in the lab, I just have a question. How did you know where to put the explosive?”

She pointed to her eyes, “I knew the primary location would be handled, so I waited on a building for your location to change and I just looked.” Stretching her arms above her head, she winked, “Now, you’ve got boy trouble, my good sir. Sweet tooth was really worried about you.”

You snorted, “Are you ever going to learn everyone’s names?”

She shrugged, bouncing away as she called over her shoulder, “Probably not!”

Walking into the dorms, your classmates immediately set their sights on you. Worried were expressed, arms wrapped around you, sentiments spoken, but they all faded to background noise when Sato caught your eye. Everyone stopped talking as you moved, for the first time pulling someone else into an embrace first, instead of just reciprocating it.

You had come here as a vigilante, alone in the world you knew.

But you were going to leave as a hero, with a love you never thought you could have, friends you never could’ve wished for, and a mentor that made you see it was possible.

Vigilante Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#my hero academia #my hero academia x male reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero fanfic #sato x male reader #vigilante reader #Quirkless reader

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allgather · 1 year

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@sasouken : timeloop vignettes for pidge & matt

pidge watches her brother from across the room and there's something… unsettling about the intensity of her gaze. she looks nervous, and perhaps he notices, the way his lips curve down into a frown when he catches her staring, before she quickly looks away. they're in a mission briefing and pidge is preoccupied, eyes flicking from the door to matt and back, over and over again. like she knows something is coming. something she won't mention to the rest of the group.

keith rises from his seat a little too quickly. his chair makes a sound as it slides across the floor and pidge jumps. she doesn't normally, but today she reacts at every creak, every too-loud noise, as if expecting it to be a gunshot. it goes unremarked upon as the others rise, gathering up helmets and coordinates, readying to head out. but then there really is a gunshot, and though pidge jumps again, she seems to have anticipated this somehow. she rushes towards her brother, hand on his back to force him down, rising again to stand in front of him. as the gunman enters the room, his eyes seem to find her instantly - and its bizarre how he never notices the others, how their images seem to fade into the background, how only pidge and matt's faces have detail. like a horrible dream or a reoccurring nightmare.

but there's always something that goes wrong. and pidge doesn't notice the second gunman ( she looks tired, eyes unfocused yet on high alert. she's missed something huge, a second presence in the room. a mistake she'd never make ) or the fact that matt has stood up behind her. she hears the gunshot. she turns around and her brother is dead. just out of reach, right out of frame.

pidge watches her brother from across the room. she's staring and her eyes are red-rimmed and hollow. it's just them, matt and her, and she looks like she wants to say something. opens her mouth as if to speak and chews on her lip instead. lets silence pass between them as she thinks. then, as if out of nowhere, "don't train with the automated system today." a pause and she taps her fingers on the table, an unsteady rhythm, too fast to be thoughtful, too hard to calm her down. "just - promise me you won't. i don't trust them. those training bots give me the creeps."

this is obviously not what she wants to say, but it must scratch the itch somewhat, because she's able to bury herself back into the work on her tablet soon after. the afternoon is quiet but there's an unease in the air, one that follows pidge when she gets up to pace around the room ( never leaving. she stays with matt even as her mind seems to wander elsewhere ). when he is called away by shiro's voice in the next room, she visibly tenses, and while matt says something placating about being right back, pidge looks like she's going to be sick. her brother is not right back. she doesn't see it happen this time and for some reason that is worse.

pidge watches her brother's face as he digests what she's just told him. her hands are shaking and he must notice, the way he quickly takes them in his own, squeezes tightly. "hey, hey— look at me. i— i can’t make it better. i… im sorry-" this is worse, she thinks, as she takes in the horror of it all, in his eyes and in his voice. she shouldn't have said anything because this is worse. "i know you’re tired, pidgey. and you’re being so brave. i know that." she slumps against him and she isn't crying ( she's done it already. so, so many times ), she just lets out a shaky breath because yeah, she is tired. so tired. all of her is trembling and at some point her legs give out. matt catches her and eases her to the ground. the way she lies against him, all dead weight, she could be a corpse. but in a few hours it'll be the other way around.

"hold on a while longer, okay? i’m going to figure this out. its — just a bad dream. we’re going to be fine.” she can't speak, can't tell him you've said this before and it wasn't fine. just grips his hands for dear life and listens to his heartbeat while its still there. before - inevitably - it's gone again.

pidge faces away from her brother. she's lying on the cold metal floor of the castle, curled in on herself. like a desperate hug, a futile attempt to bring comfort. if she knows matt is there, watching, she doesn't acknowledge him, doesn't respond to his voice or his hand on her back. just gives one shuttering breath after another and speaks aloud to no one in particular. "not again. please. stop." she sounds horrified. worse, she is pleading and the pleas are desperate. for what, it is unclear, but she repeats them like a prayer.

"stop it. i don't want to do this again. don't make me see it again." it's like she isn't in the room with matt anymore. distantly, vaguely, she may realize this is bound to frighten him, but she can't stop herself. can't move, can't stand, all she can do is speak, and even that is incoherent. a crumbled mess of what used to be a girl who could fight like you'd never believe. reduced to violent trembling and exhaustion and grief.

"please. please just stop it." and it's like a switch is flipped, like whoever was watching had finally lost interest, tossed aside its toy when she had nothing left to give. because matt collapses too, like she's been expecting all along, but this time she can hear that he's still breathing where he lies next to her.

she doesn't consciously decide to shut her eyes. pidge's body just gives in, all at once, to the sound of her brother's breathing and footfall growing near.

#(pidge)#sasouken #damn dont know what this is but it sure is something huh #uwu

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msbarrows · 2 months

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I had the weirdest dream this morning. Not so much weird because of content, but just... weird.

Background context: I often find it easier to go to sleep if I pull up a fic I've read before (pref several times before) on my tablet, set the TTS running, turn the volume down super-low, and just listen to it with my eyes closed. Occupies the brain just enough that the small distract-able rodents that power it stop running on the wheel, and I drop off after a bit instead of lying there awake with too much going on in my head.

Of course this conflicts a bit with my desire, once I wake up in the mornings, to want to lie in bed for a bit listening to a fic before actually getting up and starting my day, because my brain has now been trained that lying in bed listening to quiet TTS means sleepy times and will all-too-often doze off again. So I've gotten used to turning up the volume until it's a bit loud, so my brain knows that no, it's not sleepy-time any more.

This morning I woke up stupid early, like 6am-ish, and after listening to loud reading for a bit my brain decided I needed more sleep anyway. Except I have a loud voice reading aloud. So my brain incorporated that into a dream. I'm in a coffee or donut shop of some kind trying to order a drink, and there's this leonine older man on his phone, projecting his voice as he talks (hence the loudness). Meanwhile dream-me can't hear the counter-guy over the loud voice, it's as if I've gone deaf apart from phone guy's voice, though counter guy can hear me just fine and I can mostly hear my own voice (usually it's me who can't make a noise, and everyone else is fine).

So he's trying to talk to me and I'm having to explain, "Sorry, I've gone temporarily deaf. Apart from that guy, of course," *gestures over shoulder towards phone guy* "Him I can hear just fine." We both roll our eyes, I get my order placed, then I'm digging through my purse looking for my debit card to pay for the purchase... can't find it. Can find loose change. So I'm picking out loonies and toonies and quarters and some dimes, figuring I'll need $6-$7 dollars or so, but I can't keep count and keep having to start over as I pick out coins. I'm trying to ask counter guy what I owe him, and he's trying to tell me, but I still can't hear him, just phone guy's loud voice. "Hold up enough fingers for how many dollars will cover it, I still can't hear you." He laughs and shrugs and pushes the drink over to me and waves a 'forget about it, it's free' gesture and walks back towards the kitchen. I push over the change anyway and take the drink.

Dream-me is now looking for a table, and is delighted to realize I know the story the phone guy is telling. A fellow enjoyer of it! Awesome! I should take my copy out of my purse and flash the cover at him so we can have that delighted 'same hat!' moment at each other over it, without interrupting his phone call of course.

Except I can't find the book in my purse. Nor my tablet it might be on. Or my phone. Or anything else I recognize, actually, and I've never owned a purse that looks like this, wtf...

And then of course I finally wake up.

Mostly I'm just amused about how my brain decided to work with the loud noise in the room. Like I've slept through some loud noises before (up to and including actual literal pile-driving just down the street from my apartment), but this was just so funny to me once I woke up and figured out what had happened.

Also it's one of my most clearly-remembered dreams I've ever had, even hours later. Like I can remember how as I was picking out coins I was thinking about how I used to say that one of the nice things about loonies and toonies (back before paying with cash became the exception rather than the norm) was that you might have only a handful of loose change but if you checked it still might be $10-$20 or so. And was also thinking about how unusual it was to be paying with cash at all these days.

Also, you know that thing about how every face you see in a dream is one you've actually seen before in real life? Yeah, I actually remember both the faces in the dream. The counter-guy was one of my college teachers, and the leonine phone guy was Canadian flutist Robert Aitken (about 30 years younger than he is now - as he looked when I first saw him).

Brains are just so weird sometimes. Doubly so when dreaming.

#Randomness #Dreams #Brains are weird

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readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure · 2 years

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An ill-advised date

Pairing: Billy Russo x Female Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You are Billy’s assistant at Anvil, and of course you have a massive crush on him. Who wouldn’t? But you know nothing can ever come of it, so you decide to give online dating a go. But not everyone thinks it is a good idea, and it turns out they may be right.

Author’s note: I have absolutely nothing against online dating, and the guy’s actions in this fic are there purely for plot purposes. In saying that, the reader’s precautions are definitely justified. Stay safe, people.

Warnings: Non consensual drug use; Attempted date rape; Brief mention of violence/gore.

———————————————————

‘What’s his name again?’ asked Sophie. She didn’t seem to have a problem holding a conversation and doing crunches at the same time. You were 100% certain that you would be barely able to breathe if you were to do her workout, let alone talk.

But that was why you were the CEO’s assistant at Anvil, and not one of the soldiers.

‘Keith,’ you told her. Again. ‘We haven’t exchanged last names yet.’

A noise of disapproval came from your left and you turned to give Trucker a look. Being the only person at Anvil without a military background apparently meant you were to be treated like a kid sister, even by the people who were younger than you.

‘I’ll be fine,’ you said, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. ‘It’s just a date.’

‘With a guy you know nothing about,’ said Miles from where he was doing push-ups on the other side of Sophie. You didn’t normally interrupt the morning workout routine like this, but you had originally come down to inform them of changes to an upcoming mission. Somehow that had turned into a conversation about your upcoming date that the whole building seemed to know about.

‘Yes, well, that is the point of dates, isn’t it?’ you said. ‘To get to know the other person.’

Miles made a grunt that was probably more due to annoyance than exhaustion. You smiled at the small victory.

‘I don’t know why you’re doing this online, anyway,’ said Trucker, earning a few murmurs of agreement from the soldiers around him.

‘Well, it’s either that or be stuck with one of your ugly mugs,’ you joked.

Trucker put a hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. ‘You wound me.’

You chuckled, happy that the mood had shifted from interrogating to teasing. ‘Sorry, Truck. You know you’re the prettiest girl at the prom.’ You pinched his cheek for good measure.

He batted your hand away, but he was smiling. ‘Not quite,’ he said, glancing upwards.

You followed his gaze to the windows above the training area to see your boss glaring down at you. Normally you would put his annoyed look down to you taking ten minutes to deliver a relatively simple message, but he had been in a mood for days now. And no matter how many times you tried to offer support or even ask what was wrong, he blocked you out or sent you away to do pointless tasks.

Even with the scowl, however, Trucker was right. Billy Russo certainly was the prettiest man at Anvil. Hell, he was probably the prettiest man in the whole of New York. Not that you would ever say that out loud, though. Even if he wanted that sort of compliment from you, you knew how much he hated the word.

You waved up at him, but he just moved away from the window. You slowly lowered your hand, dejected.

Truth be told, Billy was the whole reason you had decided to actively try dating again. Having a crush on your boss was the highest of clichés, and you really needed to get over him. It wasn’t like you ever had a chance with him anyway. You had seen the type of women Billy “dated”, and you weren’t it.

‘He’s still in a snit, huh?’ said Sophie, getting up and stretching.

You nodded and forced yourself to look away from the window. ‘I’d better get back to work before he finds something else to be annoyed about.’ You let out a huff of frustration. ‘It would be so much easier if he just told us what was up with him.’

You missed the knowing look the soldiers gave each other as you walked away.

----

The day seemed to both drag on and take no time at all, and by the time 5 o’clock approached, the nerves had begun to get to you. What if Keith didn’t show? Or worse, what if he was a repeat of the last time you had tried online dating? It had been over a year ago now, but you didn’t think you could handle another guy taking one look at you and deciding you weren’t worth the effort. You weren’t exactly unattractive, but apparently being barely five foot was a deal breaker for some men.

It had taken a lot of wine and ice cream and some reassurances from Billy for you to get over that one.

You glanced towards Billy’s office. You could sure use some of those reassurances now, but his mood had not improved throughout the day. If anything, it had gotten worse.

With one more glance at the clock, you decided that you could probably start packing your stuff up early. All your tasks were done for the day, and there was no point starting something new with only five minutes to go.

After you were all packed up and ready to go, you tapped on Billy’s office door to tell him you were leaving. It had become a routine for the two of you. You would tell him to enjoy his night, he would give you a smug smile and assure you that he would, you would roll your eyes and he would laugh, and then he’d insist he walk you to your car. Sometimes you would even let him.

‘I’m off, boss,’ you said from the open doorway. He made a sound that may have been a “bye”, but he didn’t look up from the report he was reading.

You decided you had had enough of this.

‘Come on, Billy, just tell me what’s wrong,’ you said, exasperated. Right now, you weren’t his employee, you were his friend. ‘Something’s been bothering you these past few days and I know it’s not work. So, what is it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean’ said Billy, finally looking up from his desk. He gave you a smile that was obviously forced. ‘Enjoy your date.’ The last word was said with just a little too much condescension, and you raised your brow at him.

‘Don’t tell me you have a problem with online dating, too,’ you said, keeping your tone light and teasing despite your uncertainty. Why was everyone so against you trying to meet someone?

Billy sat back in his chair. ‘Hey, if you want to risk it, that’s your decision. I just thought that the woman I hired was smarter than that.’

Your smile fell in an instant. He had been difficult to work with these past few days, sure, but he hadn’t gone as far as to insult people. When it came down to it, Anvil was a family – a brotherhood that defied gender, race, and background – and you all treated each other with respect.

Respected was definitely not what you felt at that moment.

You crossed your arms and looked away, wanting him to see your displeasure but not your hurt. ‘It’s just a simple date,’ you said, defensive. ‘It’s not like I’m going home with the guy. And I have set up all the necessary precautions. I’m meeting him in a public place, several heavily armed people know exactly where I’m going and what time I’ll be there, and if I don’t send them a text message by a certain time, they’ll come looking. Smart enough for you?’

‘Smart would be not trusting someone you haven’t even met. People use these sites all the time to pray on vulnerable women. Use fake names, fake photos.’

‘Well, if his face doesn’t match his photo, I’ll leave straight away,’ you snapped, not liking being classified as “vulnerable”, even if it wasn’t too far from the truth.

Now more annoyed than upset, you turned your head back to face him. ‘It’s no different from when a woman meets you at a bar and goes home with you.’

Billy sat up straighter at that, eyes narrowed. ‘I thought you weren’t going home with him.’

‘I’m not, I’m just saying…’ You let out a sigh of frustration. Maybe a change in tactic was in order. ‘With all due respect, Mr Russo,’ you said in your best “assistant” voice, ‘my private life is none of your concern.’

Billy raised an eyebrow. ‘So, it’s Mr Russo now, is it? Fine. In that case, don’t come crying to me when he leaves before you can even say a word.’

You flinched at the reminder of your last date, and for a moment you thought you saw regret on Billy’s face, but it was gone in an instant.

If it was even there at all.

‘I won’t,’ you promised before turning on your heel and all but fleeing from the office. You hoped Keith was a good conversationalist, because you had a feeling that he would be the one carrying this date.

----

It turned out that Keith was a good conversationalist. And he wasn’t even put off by your miserable mood, accepting your “bad day at the office” excuse at face value and making it his mission to cheer you up.

He succeeded somewhat. He was good company, but you just couldn’t seem to fully shake the argument you had had with Billy. The two of you very rarely butted heads, so when you did, you always felt it all the more.

At least the bar had good alcohol, and you made liberal use of the happy hour specials.

In retrospect, that was a mistake. You let your guard down, got drawn into Keith’s friendly personality… and missed it when he slipped something into your drink.

----

Billy glared at the punching bag in front of him as he gave it another couple of jabs. He wasn’t sure who he was picturing punching more, your date or himself.

The moment you left his office replayed in his mind again. Yeah, it was definitely himself he wanted to punch more.

Why had he said those things? He knew you were smart and capable and a million other great things, and he had known of your safety plan long before you had told him of it. And he also knew that the majority of people using online dating were safe and just looking to find love.

He took another two swings at the punching bag, harder than before.

Because that’s what really scared him, wasn’t it? That you would meet someone and fall in love.

Billy had long lost track of how long he had been in love with you. It started with just a desire to sleep with you – a desire he resisted, knowing that fucking his assistant would be a bad idea – but then he got to know you. He got to know about your kindness and your compassion. He got to know about your intelligence and your sharp wit. He got to know about your unhealthy obsession with puns and your favourite tv shows. He got to know about your loneliness and your insecurities…

Fuck, why did he have to mention your last attempt at dating? He had seen first-hand how much that night had set your confidence back; why did he have to throw it in your face like he did?

He knew it would be a very long time before he forgot the hurt look in your eyes.

His knuckles were starting to hurt from punching the bag so hard, but he didn’t care. Physical pain had always been easier to deal with.

Voices from the hallway caught his attention and he stopped his punching, listening carefully. Everyone else had gone home hours ago; Billy should have been the only one in the building. As the voices got closer, however, he relaxed, recognising them as belonging to Sophie and Trucker.

But what were they doing back at Anvil at 9.30 at night?

Billy silently made his way across the training area and edged the door open. Sophie and Trucker were heading towards the exit, clearly having just come from the armoury.

‘Just remember,’ Sophie was saying, ‘this is still just a recon mission. Everything could be fine.’

Trucker grumbled something that sounded like a disagreement but Billy spoke over him. ‘I don’t remember authorising any missions,’ he called out, making them stop in their tracks.

‘It’s not a job, boss,’ said Trucker, quick to explain. He was obviously anxious to get to wherever they were headed.

That did not fill Billy with confidence, and he was just about to ask for more details when Sophie spoke up.

‘It’s Y/N.’

Ice cold fear gripped Billy in an instant.

‘What about her? What happened?’

‘She was supposed to text us 10 minutes ago, and she’s not answering her phone. We tracked it using the app she set up, and it’s not at the bar anymore, it’s at an apartment building. Maybe the date just went really well, but it’s not like her to forget to text us, so we are going over there. Just in case.’

Billy’s fear increased with every word Sophie said. She was right; it wasn’t like you at all, and you had been very adamant that you had no intention of going home with your date.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him that that had been before he had lashed out and hurt your feelings, but Billy ignored it. He marched over to where the two soldiers were hovering at the door. Trucker already had a gun held out by the time he reached them and Billy took it with a nod of gratitude.

‘I’m driving,’ was all he said as he led the way out of the building.

----

On the way to the apartment building, Billy had used his contacts and had bribed his way into getting the list of tenants. There was only one named Keith – apartment 12C - and Billy was grateful that he wouldn’t have to storm the whole building to find you.

‘We still don’t know for sure what the situation is,’ Sophie reminded him as they strode down the hallway looking for the right apartment number. ‘Everything could be fine, so let’s not get carried away and embarrass her.’ Her voice of reason was something Billy had always admired, but right now it was just pissing him off. He didn’t know if something was wrong, but he could feel it.

Nevertheless, when they reached apartment 12C, Billy reined himself in and settled for knocking on the door instead of kicking it down like he really wanted to. After half a minute went by without any sign of anyone answering, he knocked again, much harder.

This time he heard movement from inside the apartment, and a few seconds later, a man answered the door. He looked a bit different with his shirt open and a scowl on his face, but Trucker had shown Billy a picture from Keith’s dating profile, and it was definitely the same guy.

‘Can I help you?’ asked Keith, clearly annoyed.

‘We’re friends of Y/N,’ said Trucker, cutting over what was going to be a decidedly less polite and more direct comment from Billy. ‘She here?’

Keith’s eyes widened in fear for a fraction of a second, but he quickly schooled his features. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong apartment,’ he said, almost convincingly. ‘I don’t know who that- Hey!’

Billy ignored Keith’s shout of protest as he pushed past him and into the apartment. He called your name, eyes roaming over the room, looking for signs of trouble. He didn’t find any, but that did not reassure him. He knew you were here – or at least your phone was – and Keith’s lie left no doubt that something was very wrong.

He called your name again, leaving Sophie and Trucker to deal with the still protesting Keith.

And that’s when he heard it - a small whimper coming from one of the closed off rooms.

Billy didn’t hesitate, all but running to the door. He barged into the room and almost sighed in relief at the sight of you on the bed, unharmed. But then he took note of the way you were making small, aborted movements, as if you wanted to move but your limbs wouldn’t let you, and the way your dress was bunched up at your waist, high enough for Billy to see your panties. He met your eyes to find them glassy and unfocussed, yet undeniably full of fear.

White-hot rage filled him as he realised what he had interrupted, overriding all rational thought. He silently, almost calmly, turned around and walked back out into the living room where Keith was arguing with Trucker and Sophie. When he turned and saw Billy, there was no disguising his fear this time.

‘Look, man, I can-’

Billy didn’t let him finish his sentence. He pulled out his gun and pulled the trigger, the shot expertly aimed at Keith’s crotch, making sure he would never again be able to do what he had been about to do to you. Keith howled and fell to his knees, his hands clutching at the red patch quickly forming on his pants.

Billy had no sympathy for the man, returning to the bedroom without so much as a backwards glance.

You were making more murmurs of distress now, the gunshot having evidently frightened you, so he approached you slowly. ‘It’s just me,’ he reassured you soothingly. ‘You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.’

Recognition spread across your face, and you relaxed your movements. ‘B’lly?’ you murmured, the word slurred.

‘That’s right, baby. I got you.’ He straightened your dress so it was once again covering your legs, and then carefully scooped you up into his arms. He helped you wrap your arms around his neck so you weren’t so much of a dead weight, and then wordlessly carried you out of the room.

Keith was passed out now, either from pain or from blood loss, and Trucker was checking his vitals while Sophie was on the phone, probably calling an ambulance. At the sight of you in Billy’s arms, both soldiers paused and frowned before glaring at the unconscious Keith. Billy didn’t wait for them to follow as he headed out the door with you, but they caught up with him as he was waiting for the elevator.

‘Ambulance has been called,’ said Sophie. ‘They should get here before he bleeds out.’ She didn’t sound like she cared too much if they didn’t.

‘I doubt he’d be stupid enough to press charges,’ added Trucker, ‘but I’ll have someone wipe the building’s security footage just in case.’

Billy nodded his acknowledgement, not trusting himself to speak. He couldn’t help but focus on how close they had been to not getting to you in time. If you hadn’t set up those precautions with Trucker and Sophie…

Billy closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have been. You were safe now, that was all that mattered.

‘D’nt feel so g’d,’ you mumbled against his neck just as the elevator doors opened.

Billy held you a little tighter, only just resisting the urge to kiss the top of your head. ‘We’ll get you to a hospital,’ he told you. ‘Everything’s going to be okay.’

----

At some point during the early hours of the morning, you had fallen asleep at the hospital. When you woke up, your head was a little foggy and your stomach a little nauseous, but your memory was just fine. Things were understandably a bit fuzzy, but you remembered enough to know what Keith had tried to do, and that Billy had been the one to come to your rescue.

God, you felt so humiliated. And grateful. And angry. And scared and confused and just mentally exhausted from the whole ordeal. All you wanted to do was go home and cry.

Thankfully it was Sophie who first came to see you. She gave you a brief rundown of how she and Trucker had suspected something was wrong when you didn’t text them, and how they had run into Billy at Anvil and he had joined them.

She also told you that Billy had shot Keith’s cock off, which did manage to lighten your mood, if only briefly.

Soon, though, she had to go, and you were left to wait for the doctors to discharge you on your own.

Or so you thought.

A knock on the open door made you jump, and you looked up to see Billy hovering in the doorway, his face an expressionless mask. You were instantly reminded of the argument the two of you had had not 15 hours beforehand.

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ you said, turning away.

‘Hear what?’ he asked.

‘Any lectures or “I told you so”s. You win, oaky. I’ll never date anybody again, I’ll just… be alone.’

You managed to catch the sob forming in your throat, but only just.

You heard Billy’s footsteps as he walked over to you, and you reluctantly turned to face him. ‘Don’t say that,’ he said, voice softer than you had ever heard it. ‘And no lectures, I promise. You did good.’

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, thrown by the compliment that you weren’t sure you deserved.

‘Not good enough,’ you mumbled at last, sitting down on the edge of your hospital bed. ‘He still spiked my drink. You were right, I should’ve been smarter.’

A sigh fell from Billy’s lips as he sat down next to you. ‘I shouldn’t have said all those things yesterday,’ he said. ‘You were the one who was right, and I knew it too, I just...’ He sighed again. ‘It doesn’t matter. I was an ass and I’m sorry. But please don’t think that any of this is your fault. You did everything right. Yes, Keith turned out to be a piece of shit, but that’s not on you. And when things went to shit, you had protocols in place for it.’

You took a moment to digest his words before accepting the apology with a nod.

‘Thank you for getting me out of there,’ you said, voice full of gratitude.

Billy nudged your shoulder. ‘Don’t thank me. Like I said, you’re the one who had all the security protocols set up. I just happened to see the others as they were leaving to get you.’

Your lips twitched up into a half-smile. ‘In that case, thanks for shooting the bastard’s cock off.’

‘He’s lucky,’ said Billy, expression suddenly dark. ‘If we had arrived any later, it would have been his head.’

You reached over and placed your hand on his, reassuring both him and yourself that things hadn’t gotten that far. It seemed to help; the storm faded from his eyes, and he looked down to where your fingers were almost interlocking with his.

‘What happened to Keith after?’ you asked.

Another dark look passed over Billy’s face at the mention of Keith’s name, but it was gone after only a short moment. He manoeuvred your hands so that they were properly joined and squeezed your fingers. ‘He’s somewhere in the hospital. Last I heard, he hadn’t bled out.’

‘Do you think he’ll call the police?’

Billy shook his head. ‘He’d be an idiot if he did.’ There was a beat of silence before Billy spoke again. ‘Do you want to call the police?’

You shook your head quickly. ‘I just want to forget it happened… and I really don’t want you to go to jail for giving the bastard what he deserved.’

‘I would, you know.’

Your head snapped around to face him. You could tell by his intense gaze that he was dead serious. You tried to pull your hand out of his grip, too overwhelmed by it all, but he just held it tighter.

‘Billy…’

‘I would do anything to keep you safe.’

You had no idea how to react to such a declaration, so you blurted out the first thing that came to your head.

‘I only tried online dating because I couldn’t have you.’

Both yours and Billy’s eyes widened at your sudden outburst.

‘What I mean is,’ you quickly continued, already floundering for an explanation that didn’t make you sound pathetically lovesick. ‘I- I-’

Billy’s lips on yours effectively silenced you, and you had just enough time to respond to the kiss before he was pulling away again. ‘Who said you couldn’t have me?’ he asked, somehow managing to sound both soft and cocky. You imagined the latter was due to the dazed look on your face. But, hey, who could blame you for that? Billy Russo had just kissed you.

‘I, uh, I thought I wasn’t… I’m not the kind of woman you usually go for. I thought you wouldn’t want me.’

Billy chuckled and shook his head. ‘We really are idiots, aren’t we?’

You frowned at the insult and tried to pull your hand away again, still to no avail. The mixed messages were confusing you and not helping your already fragile state.

Billy used his free hand to cup your face, stopping you from looking away. ‘You wanna know the reason I’ve been in such a bad mood these last couple of days?’ He didn’t wait for you to answer, barrelling on even as you nodded. ‘It’s because I didn’t want you to go on that date. It didn’t matter how you met the guy, or even who he was… just knowing you were going on a date with somebody else was killing me.’

You frowned again, this time confused for a different reason. ‘You were jealous?’ you asked. ‘I thought my crush on you was obvious. Why didn’t you say something?’

Billy lowered his hand and shrugged. ‘Because you’re so nice to everyone, I couldn’t be sure if I was different. And I figured, even if I was different, I’m your boss and you deserve so much better than me anyway, so we were best the way we were.’

‘And what about now?’ you asked, thinking about the way he had kissed you moments ago. It had been short, but there had been plenty of passion behind it. ‘Do you still think that?’

‘I still think you deserve better,’ said Billy, ‘but I don’t think I can keep pretending you are merely my friend and employee. I want so much more than that.’

This time it was you who was closing the distance between you both, and you used your free hand to pull him into an eager kiss which he instantly responded to. It wasn’t until you felt his hand on your hip that you realised you had twisted yourself around so that you were just about sitting in his lap.

You pulled back with a bashful smile and reluctantly untangled yourself from him. And just in time too. Only a few seconds later, the doctor arrived to do his final checks before he let you go home. You were actually grateful for the interruption. It gave you chance to gather yourself.

By the time the doctor had finished and you were outside the hospital, your head felt a little clearer and you could think better.

‘So, what happens now?’ you asked Billy as he led you to his car. Neither of you had said a word to each other since your kiss, and the uncertainty was gnawing at you.

‘Now I take you home,’ he said.

You gave him a look. ‘I meant, what happens with us?’

‘Well, I was thinking Tuesday night, if you are free.’

‘Tuesday night?’ you asked, confused.

‘For a date.’ His mask of confidence faltered. ‘If you are still interested, that is.’

Your mind short circuited for a moment at the thought of finally going on a date with the man you had been pining after all this time, but you quickly shook yourself out of it. ‘Yep, definitely still interested,’ you said quickly. ‘Just, uh, maybe not at a bar if that’s okay.’

You knew without a doubt that your date with Billy would not end like the one with Keith had, but you really didn’t want any reminders. You had been waiting for this for too damn long to let some asshole ruin it.

Billy took your hand in his and lifted to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

‘Not a problem at all.’

You looked away to hide your blush. Who knew Billy Russo was capable of such sweet gestures?

‘Are you sure it won’t be weird?’ you asked. ‘Dating your employee? What will everyone think?’

‘I don’t really care what they think,’ said Billy simply, making you smile. ‘But I imagine there will be a few smug looks. I overheard Trucker talking on the phone to Miles earlier. I’m pretty sure there’s a betting pool on us.’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It seemed everybody had known about yours and Billy’s feelings except for you and Billy. ‘You were right,’ you told him. ‘We really are idiots.’

Billy laughed too, and when you reached his car, he used your joined hands to pull you closer to him. ‘Not anymore,’ he said before claiming your lips in another kiss.

This one felt like a promise.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo

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fortuositywritings · 3 years

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Part 1 Wanda x Reader

Summary: You bump into Wanda Maximoff at a grocery store. Wouldn’t be a problem if either of you were anyone else but you two were no ordinary people.

You would think having the ability to take anyone’s power would be awesome. It’s not.

With a simple touch, you could take any person with special abilities’ special powers from them. You figured this out in grade school when you high-fived one of your friends for the first time. Suddenly you could see through walls. That same year, you figured out they could take those powers back.

A few years later you found out they could only take those powers back if they wanted them. You tried giving someone their invisibility back but they would not have it. Now you are stuck with it. You are stuck with a few others too, like walking through walls and mimicking voices. Those you got from random strangers on the street.

Obviously, you tried to give them back. You wouldn’t take what isn’t yours, but it was an impossible task. Finding a stranger you bumped into in New York is kind of hard.

You’ve tried passing off powers to other people but it never worked. You could only return them to the person who gave them to you. To give them back, all you had to do was touch them again and they had to want the powers back. It was that simple.

So when you bump into Wanda Maximoff at the grocery store, things get a little complicated.

You’ve made a friend recently who turns out to be Sokovian. Seeing as his birthday is coming up, you thought it would be cool to cook him a traditional Sokovian meal. A few searches on Google and you print out a list of what you need.

You leave to the nearest store that would have all you need. You check off your list, heading toward the aisle of spices. You finally find the one the recipe calls for and lucky for you, it’s the last one. You reach for it but you feel someone else’s hand touching yours, reaching for the same thing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. You look at the woman who is standing really close to you for a stranger. She has intense green eyes, you notice. She pulls her hand away.

“It’s alright,” you say.

“Was that the last one?” she asks, awkwardly.

“It seems so,” you confirm. “But we can ask an employee if they have more somewhere?”

You flag down an employee two aisles down and ask. They shake their head and then tell you they won’t be getting more until next week. The woman with the green eyes sighs.

“We can split it,” you suggest. “I don’t need the whole thing. At least I don’t think so? I just need it to make a Sokovian dish that calls for it. I probably won’t be using it for anything else.”

“I don’t know. Sokovian food is delicious if I may say so. You’ll get a taste and might regret sharing this with a stranger,” she teases.

You smile and ask, “Oh, are you Sokovian?”

She nods and you add, “Well, then I insist on sharing it with you. Maybe you can actually give me a few tips on this recipe?”

“What are you making?” she asks you. You show her the recipe on your phone and she kindly shares some of her expertise which you’re grateful for. She follows you around the store making conversation as you grab the rest of what you need. Technically, you follow her around as she suggests you other stuff to add to the recipe.

You add a mini mason jar to your cart. You both head to pay and outside pour some of the spice into your mason jar and give her the rest of the bottle. You thank her for all the help and wish her a great day.

Wanda gets back to the tower in a positive mood. Everyone notices and asks her what happened. She replies that she just had a nice interaction with a stranger and it made her day.

Though her day was made, the rest of her week was hell. She doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Her powers have been failing her. She doesn’t understand. At first she thinks it’s just the more difficult things she can’t do but then she notices how no one’s thoughts appear in her head. It’s quiet. She only hears her own.

Something was definitely wrong.

You thought you were imagining things but after guessing what your friends’ were thinking for the umpteenth time, you knew you had taken someone else’s power.

You don’t think it’s too bad at first. Only your friends’ heavy thoughts made their way into your head. Unfortunately, some of those thoughts you can never unhear again.

The problem comes when you go to the library for the first time with this new power. The library is hell. It’s full of people who are just thinking loudly. See in public, there are people who are thinking loudly of course, but there are more people distracted and speaking without thinking, which you never thought you would be so grateful for.

You don’t last in the library for very long. So libraries are on your list of places to avoid. Soon, movie theaters are also on that list and then so are museums. Any place where people are meant to be quiet is where it’s loudest in your head.

You wish you knew who you touched to get these powers. You begin to think back at everyone the past few weeks that you might have had direct contact with. A hand you shook or an arm you bumped into. You’ve always been cautious about your surroundings so these things wouldn’t happen.

Everyone you greeted at your Sokovian friend’s party you’ve greeted before. No one was new there. The Sokovian at the store!

Damn it. You never got her name or anything. Maybe you’ll encounter her at the store again. The next few days, you spend hours at the same store. People begin to think you’re an employee and you almost feel like one, knowing exactly where everything is from spending so much time there.

You’ve even made plans with one employee to go hangout. But no green eyed Sokovian makes an appearance.

Three weeks you have this power when you find that not only can you read people’s thoughts, but you hold things without actually touching them. It happens when you drop something in the kitchen. You reach for it to catch it before it hits the floor but it’s nowhere near your grasp. However, it never hits the floor.

You then notice a red mist-like substance coming from your hands floating in the direction of the object. You see that it’s holding it up. After that, you start practicing with random things around your apartment. You begin with lighter things, thinking you would only be able to hold weight that you could in your actual arms, but it is not so.

You work your way up to lifting your car in the air and in that same moment you learn you could do multiple things like lifting your car and replacing the flat tire.

Two months with these abilities and you feel you start getting the hang of it. You still can’t go to the library. You’ve tried again but the voices are too loud. You still go to the store where you met the woman that unintentionally gifted you these powers to try and return them. She seemed like a decent person and you don’t know what she used these powers for. Maybe she needs them.

You still have yet to find her.

Wanda hasn’t been on a mission in three months. Instead, Bruce has been poking and prodding her with needles and running countless tests trying to figure out what happened with her powers. Three weeks ago she began to go to a therapist because Steve thought it might be a mental block of some sort that she had to work through.

Though therapy was doing wonders for her, they weren’t getting her anywhere near having her powers back. Bruce’s tests weren’t helpful either. She’s been stuck in the tower for three months and her days have never felt so repetitive until now- train, go to therapy, undergo tests. Rinse and repeat.

The media had begun to notice as well. She turns to another TV channel where the news anchor asks “Where is Wanda Maximoff?” as if she’s disappeared from the face of the earth. In a way she has.

Fortunately for her, you are watching that same channel. You are cooking dinner and have the television channel on for background noise. You hear them talking about the Avengers. They’ve never been of much interest to you, although they should be seeing as though you live in the same city and something is always going down here because of that reason.

“For those who have been living under a rock,” the new anchor starts, “Wanda Maximoff is one of the newer additions to the Avengers.”

“She’s the one with the red magic, isn’t she?” the co-anchor asks. That grabs your attention. You turn to look at the screen. “That’s right. She joined about a year ago after the fall of Sokovia.”

That had to be a coincidence, right?

“She hasn’t been reported to be on any missions the last three months,” the reporter continues. That definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, you think, counting back the time you’ve attained these powers.

“Here is a clip of Maximoff using her magic to save diplomats at the embassy five months ago when…” You don’t hear the rest as you watch the clip play.

It’s the green eyed Sokovian who helped you out at the market. Your suspicions about it being her who had these powers were correct. You just didn’t think you took powers from an Avenger. Someone who definitely needs these powers to do her job and save people like the clip shows. Shit.

You smell the food you’re cooking burning.

“Shit!”

Wanda pounds her hand on the mat. Sweat clings onto her shirt. She’s tired and out of breath.

“Again,” Nat commands. Wanda huffs and stands up, getting back into her fighting pose. She takes a swing that the Black Widow easily dodges. Not two moves later, she hits the mat again.

“Again,” Nat repeats.

“Natasha, give the kid a break,” Steve says, watching from the side.

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures him.

Natasha explains, “If therapy and tests aren’t working, maybe self defense will.”

Steve seems doubtful but allows it. They really need Wanda to work through whatever is blocking her from using her powers. He winces seeing Wanda hit the mat.

“Again.”

“I’ve told you for the millionth time. My name is Y/N L/N and I need to speak to Wanda Maximoff. Or any of the Avengers, really. Or even one of their assistants or something. It’s vital,” you try helplessly.

“Unless you have clearance, I can’t let you up,” the guy at the desk says to you for what feels like the hundredth time. You’ve been coming in the past few days trying to get someone to let you see Wanda.

“Look, it’s really important. Can’t you, like, give her a message or something?” You’re desperate at this point. He laughs.

“Ah, yes, let me just text her real quick. ‘hey Wanda. It’s that one guy you said hello to once downstairs. There’s some girl here that needs to talk to you’,” he acts out sarcastically, which you do not find amusing.

“Listen, buddy. If you do me this favor and get your boss or whoever can give me clearance to see her, I promise she’ll be so grateful for you helping me get to her that she’ll come and thank you herself,” you vow.

“I can’t help you, Miss. Now please go or I’ll have to call security,” he warns.

You rub your temple in frustration. “Fine. There’s no need for that...Michael,” you read his name. “I’m going.”

You turn around as if to head for the door but then do a 180 and sprint past a security guard who shouts at you to stop. You make your way for the elevators as the security guard runs after you. You press the button for the elevators but you notice they’re nowhere near the ground floor.

The security catches up to you and in panic, you push him away with Wanda’s powers. He goes sliding across the floor and you bolt for the stairs.

You don’t even know which floor you would find Wanda in but you assume it would be somewhere up top. You begin your ascend. You reach the fourth floor and realize you should start using the StairMaster at the gym. You hear multiple security guards quickly making their way to you. You panic and walk through the wall, not knowing what was on the other side.

You’re in some kind of engineering lab. You don’t think anyone saw you walk through the wall, so you try to act casual and stroll through the lab trying to find an exit. Then you hear someone call you. “Hey, you.”

You ignore them and act like you didn’t hear. They tell you to stop walking, loud enough that you can’t ignore it. You turn around to see a woman in a lab coat. She asks, “You’re not allowed on this floor. Who let you up here?”

“Oh, uh. Michael sent me,” you lie. “Sorry, I’m new. I must have gotten off on the wrong floor. Maybe you could help me find my way?”

“Where are you meant to be working?” she inquires and you’re stuck not knowing anything about the Stark Tower or Avengers Tower, whatever it’s called.

“The lab,” you say. Your vague answer obviously creates another question. “What lab?”

“They haven’t told me yet? I’m not actually working in the labs. I’m doing more secretarial duties, taking notes and scheduling stuff.”

“For whom?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. You can feel her catching onto you and it’s the only reason why you try this.

“For the big guy, obviously,” you say and then focus really hard trying to read her mind, hoping that a name will pop up in her head. Did Bruce get an assistant? You smile. “Bruce.”

“Well then you are way off. He’s usually working on the 87th floor,” she tells you.

“Well, thank god there’s an elevator,” you chuckle nervously, pointing behind you. “Well, I should get going before I’m any later. You turn around confidently but as you walk away she stops you once more. You think you got caught but she says, “Elevators are that way.”

She points to the opposite way you came from. You laugh to play off your mistake, “Duh. Sorry, the lab is so big. Thanks.”

You head the right way. You speed walk to the elevators and then jog when you hear a rougher voice telling you to stop. “She’s on the fourth floor.”

You assume they spoke into their walkie, and you know you don't have much time before they catch you. You think quickly. You can’t make your way to the elevator because then obviously they’ll just stop the elevators. You don’t want to walk through a wall; the dangers of that are extreme given this is Stark Tower. You could accidentally walk into an ongoing experiment.

You had to hide. And suddenly, you had the perfect plan.

The security guard runs to you. He thinks you’re running for the elevator but then you turn before you get there. He sees you dive behind some clunky machine, presumably to hide behind. You clearly never have won a game of hide and seek in your life, he thinks as he goes around the machine to catch you.

He’s left utterly confused when you aren’t there. The only trace of you are your clothes down to underwear on the floor. Four other guards make it to the floor. One asks him, “Where is she?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. “She was right here. Search the floor. She’s hiding and I think she’s naked.”

They disperse taking your clothes with them. You let out a breath of relief at not getting caught but then mentally curse that they took your clothes. You still haven’t learned how to make other things invisible yet. You never really used this power. Maybe you should start practicing.

You hustle your naked ass to the elevators, feeling incredibly exposed even though you know no one can actually see you. You press the elevator button and wait impatiently. It dings and opens.

“The elevators!” You hear one of the guards yell. Two run your way as you step into the car. You put all your energy into staying invisible. It would be really awkward if you were suddenly exposed. You hold your breath when one of them looks in the elevator. You keep yourself in the corner furthest away from them. In their eyes, there is no one in the elevator.

“She’s not here.” They leave and the doors close. You click the button for the 87th floor.

____________________________________________________

This will probably have 3 parts.

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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