#and that split second where he falls onto his back with her limp unconscious body right when he hauls her out really gets me too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hrina · 4 years ago

Text

The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon.

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #uhhhh yeah so here u go. if this flops it never happened i guess #hunterry #harry writing

283 notes · View notes

angellbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten Love - part three: lions and tigers and secrets, oh my

series summary: You’re new to the Avengers. In joining the team, there’s a lot that no one yet knows about you. And there’s some unusual tension between you and a certain brunet. Under a pseudonym and with completely fresh start, and background, you hope for a chance at a new life. A better life. But how long will it last before someone figures out the life you’ve hidden away?

chapter summary: Quite some first mission. And some close calls, too.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

words: 1.9k

warnings: only killing those hydra goons

A/N: Ooooh I’m actually really happy with this chapter. Hope you all like! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated☺️

series masterlist

The jet speeds off to an unknown location. FRIDAY is left in charge, of course. Everyone else either sits at the sides or is preparing for when you land. You get up from your seat and walk to the middle of the jet, where Tony, Steve and Nat are all looking at a hologram of some sort of concrete building.

“Hydra base.” Nat states.

“We’ve gained intel to a specific experiment they’ve got going on. They’ve been trying to recreate more of the supersoldier serum. We can’t let that happen.” Steve informs you, in his patriotic, ‘I’m Captain America’ voice he likes to use.

“Right.”

“Fury’s informed us that they may be closer to recreating it than we thought. He’s picked up some new radiation that’s coming from this building.” Your gaze falls from Steve back down to the hologram. With a flick of his fingers it spins, giving you a 360 view of the place. The sight makes you feel uneasy, in a way unknown to the team.

“If you haven’t guessed already, our job is to get rid of whoever and whatever is causing this.” Tony adds. “We take out the bad guys, steal their shit, and boom. Avengers win.”

“Always so serious.” Nat jokes. You smile at her and head to the weapons area, grabbing a few knives and a handgun, and slotting them into various places on your suit. Bucky is also there, picking a few similar knives but a much larger gun.

“This is your first mission, right?” He asks, not even glancing at you. You think for a moment, not quite sure how to answer.

“Yeah. It’s my first.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll be in and out in no time. It usually goes according to plan.” He finally looks at you, smirking, and gives you a wink as he walks away, leaving you with more conflicting feelings.

“5 minutes to landing.” FRIDAY announces.

“We’ll head down now to scope out the area.” Rhodey says. The back of the jet opens and he heads off in his War Machine suit, followed by Sam, followed by Tony using his nanotech and jumping out before he’s fully suited.

“Looks like you’re rubbing off on him.” You hear Bucky say to Steve.

The jet lands in the clearing of a nearby forest, leaving the rest of you to venture through it to the base, undetected under the cover of the night.

“Ready?” Steve asks as you head out.

“So ready.” You reply.

You, Nat, Steve and Bucky all head through the trees and it’s not long before you reach the large, grey building. As you approach the facility, you would have guessed it was abandoned by now if it wasn’t for what Fury had reported.

“Emily, we’ll head through the front and you boys can go around the back.” Nat orders.

“Yes ma’am.” Steve salutes her with a smirk and you head off in your different directions.

You and Nat find a small side door where the front of the building is and to your surprise, it’s unlocked. Both of your guns are up at the ready as you sneak down the eerie corridor. Only dim ceiling lights cast any glow amidst the darkness, the kind that are always flickering in horror movies. You come up to a split in the corridor and push Nat up against the wall with you when you sense an unwanted presence.

You close your eyes, concentrating on the way this person is moving. Though the footsteps are inaudible, you can feel it: the vibrations through the floor, of a male, walking with the rhythm of a robot. Patrolling the grounds. The vibrations get stronger as he nears. When he reaches the corner is when you pounce, catching him in a headlock and choking him silently unconscious, until he falls limp in your arms. You snap his neck. One swift motion and you lay him down on the ground, letting the logo on his uniform get to you more than it should have.

“Damn, Quinn, you sure have some surprising moves up your sleeve, don’t you?” Nat comments, stepping over the agent’s body. “A force to be reckoned with.”

“Buck, come on.” Steve picks up a jog as the pair head through from the opposite side of the premises, but Bucky is still looking over his shoulder every 2 seconds.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, and picks up his pace to match Steve’s.

They head further into the maze and, after taking out a few HYDRA heads, they find themselves in a corridor with a single door on the left hand side, reading ‘WS room 1’

“Winter Soldier.” Bucky speaks softly. “That’s what it stands for. Winter Soldier.” He takes a stammered breath. “This is one of the places they tortured me.”

Steve pays his friend a sympathetic glance. Bucky halfheartedly smiles but resolves to staring at the floor. He walks up to the door and takes a look through the small square window. Through it, there’s a small room, encased by glass, with computers and other equipment as such. Ready to make notes. Observations. Beyond that is a larger room with a stand consisting of various panels and buttons and a lever, which is attached to the large-framed chair beside it. The mere sight of it causes Bucky’s skin to crawl with the pain of the past. It almost makes him jump when Steve places a hand on his shoulder, signalling the time to head off again.

“Uh, guys, you might wanna check this out.” Tony’s voice crackles through the coms. “Get to where I am right the fuck now.”

You and Nat start running down the halls now, checking Tony’s location using the new tracking device he installed into everyone’s suits. Taking out numerous faceless HYDRA agents on the way, you make it to a door, a huge metal door, where two agents lay dead either side. Bucky and Steve arrive just as you do.

Steve opens the door.

With a loud creak, a blue glow emits from within the room, and standing in the middle is Tony, surrounded by viles and viles and bottles and machines. Paperwork is piled up messily throughout the place. You all head inside, slowly making your way around, taking notice of all the colours in various glass beakers, tubes and containers, some smoking, some not. Glancing at all the scribbles on the paper scattered around, and on the walls, it’s clear that this is the testing room for their serum. And by the look of the fridge in the corner, filled with bright blue viles, they succeeded.

“Wait, have they already figured it out?” Steve questions.

“No!” Bucky slams his fist on the table, angered by the despairing truth.

“They did it. They actually did it. And God knows how long they’ve had this. For all we know, there could be dozens of newly created supersoldiers walking among us.” Tony says, taking out a vile and holding it up to the light. You take a sharp inhale and turn away from the rest of the group, suddenly feeling light-headed. As you focus your breath and lean against the workspace, you also focus on the paperwork in front of you. It’s a file. Your soul leaves your body as you stare at the black folder, a blood red HYDRA logo stamped to the front. Underneath, some writing:

‘CONFIDENTIAL - SS test subjects 1-12’

SS. Supersoldier.

You hesitantly open it. Nameless faces are enclosed, reduced to nothing but numbers. All have red stamps over their files, labelling ‘FAILED’ in red. Every one is the same; a face, a name, ‘FAILED’.

Until you reach number 12.

You slam the file shut and jolt back upright.

“Emily? You okay?” Nat asks. You spin to face everyone, who now looks slightly concerned by your sudden outburst. You release the breath you were holding in.

“Yeah. Sorry. Seeing this just makes me so angry, you know? How they just want to create monsters with this stuff. No matter the cost.”

“Tell me about it.” Bucky comments. Everyone gets back to what they were doing before.

You sigh in relief, as if you were expecting them not to believe you. You discreetly slide page 9 out of the folder and fold it up small enough to fit into a pocket in your suit.

“This seems too easy.” Bucky says, as he looks over a page of scribbled formulae. You all gather round and look through what seems to be the final renditions of their recreated serum. As you read through, trying to make sense of the cacography, an overwhelming sense washes over you. You shut your eyes, trying to focus the feeling, pinpoint the source of it.

“Guys,” You open your eyes wide. “we need to get out of here. Right now. It’s everywhere. Let’s go, come on!” You yell at everyone as you feel the heat rise beneath you. You run, and the others follow. Nat grabs a load of HYDRA’s work, taking whatever looks important enough, and heads out with the rest of you.

You make it out of the building and keep running towards the forest. Rhodey and Sam meet you from where they were on lookout outside.

“Get down!” You shout, and everyone covers.

The facility is blown to smithereens, the sound of it erupting through the dawn’s serenity. Bright orange fills the sky, melting into the sunrise.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Sam urges, to which everyone gets up and heads back, exhausted, to the quinjet.

You let yourself fall onto a seat, leaning your head back against the wall and releasing a long-awaited breath.

“Thank God we have you on our team, Quinn, otherwise we would have been barbecued.”

“Glad to be here, Stark.” You manage to push yourself up, gathering with everyone around the table, where the team is examining what Nat managed to pick up. You scan what’s in front, and your heart falters.

“Where did you get that?”

“Grabbed it on the way out.” She replies. “Looked important.”

“Well, yeah, files with huge capitals that say ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ usually are.” Sam remarks.

You’re tense the whole flight back, biting your nails and lip as you all go through the papers. And when you land, you’re the first one off the jet.

“How did it go?” Wanda asks when you’re back in the compound.

“You want the good news or bad news first?” Tony pours himself a drink.

“Tony, it’s like 7AM.” Steve states.

“Well done, Cap. You can tell the time.” Tony carries on pouring and takes a large swig, holding his glass up to Steve as he swallows.

You rush to your room in silence before anyone starts recounting the mission and passing round that file.

You shut and lock your door, sliding down it and letting your face fall into your hands. You reach for the piece of paper you took and unfold it. You can hardly bear to look at it, feeling sick to your stomach. You barely recognise yourself.

~~~

“Did they all make it out?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And her?”

“She’s with them now.”

“We will have her back. She can’t hide from us. Number 12 will be back with us soon.”

246 notes · View notes

kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago

Text

reunion pt. 2 (6/8) | r.b.

summary: The blue and white Wings of Freedom crumple as the cape falls, spread out by the wind like true wings. Or, the winter after Shiganshina is frigid with change.

WARNINGS: mentions of heavy injuries, depression, angst all around, swearing, levi gives some advice, blood pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 8.2k

a/n: we’re nearing the end!!! ahh thats crazy adnkasln. not much reiner this chapter unfortunately but he will return next chapter!!

masterlist

crossposted on ao3!

You land heavily on your left leg, hand on Jean’s shoulder to soften the blow to your right as you watch Hange wrestle Mikasa back. Eyes widening, you sweep the rooftop—from Levi, to Erwin, to the burnt corpse that has to be…

“Don’t tell me…”

“Armin?”

“It can’t be…”

Bertholdt. Your eyes fall to his steaming body, marks of his Titan still imprinted on his face and you fall forward. Limbs chopped to the bone, blood pooling underneath him, a cloud of steam surrounding him. You’re the only one left.

Rising to his feet, Jean’s grip is iron on your shoulder, clamping onto the joint so hard you’re sure it’ll break and you look up at him, watery breaths puffing past your lips. He stares down at you, regret sewn into his features, but even so, there’s a hard determination in them.

You know what has to be done, he seems to say. Covering his hand with your own, a shooting pain splits your chest open as Levi looks from Erwin to Armin, back again—an impossible choice. You’re not jealous at all of the captain, deciding the fate of two soldiers who are both just as important, but for some reason, you can’t even think about Armin or Commander Erwin.

You smell the terrible perfume of burnt flesh mixed with the smoke and dust of the ruins of Shiganshina, the blood in your mouth, the sweat lingering heavily around them. It reminds you of Trost, of Reiner holding you as he told you Marco had died. You somehow can’t think of anything else.

It’s not until Levi tells them to get that you can tear your eyes off Bertholdt’s slumbering face. He looks almost peaceful and you reach a limp hand for him but Jean tugs at your shoulder, and you look at him.

“Come on,” he utters softly, and you let him help you up, hopping on your broken leg with a grimace. You can do this, you tell yourself as Captain Levi drags Bertholdt towards the commander by the scruff. Whatever happens, at least it’s for good, right? Please, just sleep, Bertholdt. I don’t want you to suffer anymore than you already have.

“Captain Levi, can I—“ Your voice comes out from your chest, surprising everyone there including yourself, and the bloody captain freezes, turning to look at you. You set your jaw, limping away from Jean who tries to stop you. “I just want to say goodbye.”

Levi’s eyes search yours, and then flicker to Hange, still holding Mikasa. A beat passes.

“Make it quick,” he allows. “The rest of you, scram.” The sound of ODM gear splits the air, iron wire screeching as the Scouts left head towards a distant rooftop. Walking towards the captain, you give him a weary look as he sets down Bertholdt’s body.

Crashing to your knees, you reach a hand to brush the dark hair out of his eyes, and his forehead doesn’t even crease when your fingertips brush over his brow. Overwhelmed, you can only gently trace the Titan markings on his cheeks, hollowed out patches of skin that outline his bones, reveal the muscle pulling his face together.

“Bertl,” you whisper. “Why didn’t you just kill me?” You wait for an answer that’ll never come, hand flattening against his warm cheek, and you feel his gentle breath against your fingers as your eyes begin to burn. “Why didn’t either of you just kill me? If we’re all devils, what made me so special?” You blink, and the tears fall down your face, land on his chest in gentle splatters. With your other hand, you cradle his face completely in your palms, and you bow your head.

“Nothing’s special about you,” Levi mutters, and your head snaps up to see him standing over Bertholdt’s body, nothing but a cold indifference struggling to find its place in his eyes. “They just decided you were. That’s all it was.”

His words sting, but nonetheless, you don’t let it faze you. You draw your hands back towards your lap.

“Captain, please keep it quick. I don’t want him to suffer,” you whisper, and you meet blue-grey eyes resolutely before pulling yourself up. “I don’t think I’ll survive hearing him scream.”

“Hurry up and go,” he orders. “I’ll be as merciful as I can.” Nodding numbly to yourself, you glance down at Bertholdt one last time, before heading towards the edge of the roof and launching yourself back towards the others. Mikasa helps ease you down to your knees and you send her a grateful look before shuffling in between Jean and Connie. Watching the captain’s green figure crouch beside the Commander’s, your nerves are shot and your headache only begins to intensify.

“Armin,” Eren’s muffled sob pricks at your ear but you ignore him, eyes trained on the singular figure arched over the apex of the roof.

“What’s taking him so long?” Jean mutters.

“Maybe the transformation isn’t instantaneous?” Connie suggests.

“If that were the case, the captain would’ve left and watched the commander transform from a safe distance.” Leaning forward, one of your hands plant on the wood of the apex on the gabled roof as the cloaked figure stands. Together, the Scouts watch as Levi turns around, walking to the other end of the roof towards a black, burnt body. Ragged, wet gasps tear the air as Eren lunges forward. Mikasa grabs his arm, hauling him back, and your eyes widen.

He’s going back for Armin, you realize distantly. He changed his mind. Why? How could he—

There isn’t time for questions. As soon as the captain seems to inject the fluid, he kicks Armin’s body off the roof before turning around and grabbing Commander Erwin’s body. Hange lets out a soft noise, sprinting off the roof towards their friend while the rest can only watch as lightning splits the air for just a flash of a second, destroying the back end of the home. Splinters and debris go flying as steam arises from the spot where lightning struck and the two senior officers retrieve the commander, retreating to a roof a distance away.

Only a few more seconds. Bertholdt has to stay unconscious for just a few more seconds. Jean’s hand on your shoulder is iron-like again, nails digging through your jacket, a silent warning that you don’t have to watch, but you’re frozen to your spot, waiting.

The shrill sound of wood ripping fills the air, even from where they watch, as one bony claw reaches through the steam. What follows—a blond head, a body more skeleton than flesh, and a gaping mouth.

Armin. His name sounds foreign in your head as he reaches Bertholdt.

You hear the first sob as he plants a hand onto his prey, lifting him into the air.

“No!” Raw and burning, Bertholdt’s screams brand into your eardrums as he thrashes as hard as he can in Armin’s grip but he’s nothing more than a limbless body and a head. Your world splits open as he’s raised through the sky. The fear fractures your chest, the desperation sinks into your skin, and you want to tear your eyes out but your fingers remain dug into the ridge as he screams wetly. Your hand is blistering, on fire along your fingers, and blood congeals on your tongue.

For the rest of your days, you will remember the moment his eyes found yours, bulging wide with untamed, unnatural dread.

“Guys, please!” Sobbing, his voice grows hoarse as Armin’s jaw unhinges. “Help me!” Head snapping, swinging, whipping any which way until he can free himself, the way his neck thrashes makes your stomach roll. Your legs are begging for orders, begging to spring forward to save him as the shadow of a Titan falls over his face.

Bertholdt screams your name and it pierces through, a bullet that shatters every nerve as your eyes begin to burn. Your teeth clench before you’re pushing off the roof, boots gritting against tile

“Bertholdt!” Pain spirals through your entire body as you take one step before an arm wraps around your neck, flinging you back. You fall onto your spine, the breath knocked out of you and your feet kick out, ODM gear clanking against the tile. Hands surrounding you, pinning you down, and you flail your arms and legs, nails clawing at anything you can make contact with, gasping for air, for space, for anything. “Bertholdt! No! No! Please!”

Vision blurring, you try to make out your captors as a knee presses into your wrist and another slams into your shoulder. Breath shuddering, your feet lash at the air, desperately trying to push yourself away from the others to save him. You have to save him—Captain Levi said it’d be merciful—

“Hold her down! Shit!”

“I’m trying!”

“Bertholdt!” Your throat begins to bleed and you taste the fire in your lungs as your head slams backwards, your back arching off the roof. Tears sear into your skin. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a furious sob, heaving and wheezing before your mouth falls open and a burning scream bursts from your chest. Ribs poking into every inch of your flesh, your hands fly up to dig into elbows. Whoever you hold onto do not wince and you hear a jagged voice, wrought with anguish.

“Go! Go get Armin and make sure he’s okay. I have her—“

“But, Jean—“

“Connie! Go with Eren and Mikasa. We’ll be okay.” The knee on your shoulder lifts and you immediately swing your fist at Jean, clocking him in the cheek and knocking him off you. Throwing yourself up, you scramble forward and wipe at your face but the tears still do not cease. You can barely see.

Your heart decays, a cold, throbbing agony filling you as you scan the square. You see the blonde Titan just in view behind the house, collapsed on his stomach, steaming more and more as someone erupts from the nape.

The agony numbs.

So, that’s it then.

Bertholdt’s…

Crumpling in on yourself, your fingers clasp at the base of your neck and you curl into a ball, eyes sliding shut. Everything inside you falls apart, shattering into a million pieces and the walls around you begin to fall in, the fatigue and pain and heartache piling on top of you, burying you, blocking out the sun, you’ve lost everything, you have no one.

You couldn’t even save Bertholdt—

“Jean, go to the others.” Fingers tightening around your head, your tears scorch as they fall into your hairline, disappearing in all the grime and dust and blood staining your body. “I’ll deal with this.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Shoulders shaking, your breath puffs hot against your face and you’re panting for air as your back kinks painfully. Stabbing sensations nestled right underneath your shoulder blades, you begin to wheeze, face beginning to flush, body beginning to grow number and number until you can’t even feel the pain anymore of shattered bones.

All you can hear is Bertholdt screaming for you to help him, the silence of your body.

Why couldn’t you move?

Failure, failure, failure, failure, failure, failure, failure.

It spells itself out, digs its talons into your brain and pries you open until you’re sobbing harder into the stone. Your heart thuds in your mouth, large and swollen, as hands grip your shoulders, wrenching you up. On instinct, cold air seeps into your chest and you let out a gasp, face in pieces as you lift it to the sky.

“Hey!” Your eyes spring open as the hands on your shoulders grow more insistent and you lower your wet stare to Levi who is already studying with his quicksilver gaze. You feel everything inside you drain out. His teeth are bared in a tight scowl, and you still tremble in the aftershocks but he only holds on tighter. “Give yourself a moment, then pull yourself together. We still have a job to do. After that, I’ll give you as much time as you want to cry your little eyes out.”

“Captain—“ Your voice breaks, and Levi’s eyes flicker as you stare right through him. He lets go, drawing his hands back to himself. “Do you think it hurt?”

He pauses, deliberates this. “I think the fear was probably the worst part. If it hurt, it was only for one intense moment. Arlert crushed his head open,” he informs and your heart becomes a stone in your chest. “Now, come on. I’ll splint your leg and then we’re moving Erwin.”

“But, but Armin—“

“Do you really want to see him right now?” he cuts off sharply, and you wince as he stands. “Hange will take care of the others. You’re coming with me.”

Weakly, you mumble out his name, but he doesn’t stop as you struggle to your feet, following after him. You wipe at your face with sweaty hands, but it doesn’t help at all, only smearing it all over your exhausted features. Lungs still spasming in the occasional hiccups, you let your smashed, bruised fingers fall uselessly.

Captain Levi leads you to a demolished square near the Wall where Hange is already piling supplies, Commander Erwin’s body laid to rest. Eyes widening, you look at his corpse before looking at Levi who only looks over the body in passing before walking to a crate and ordering for you to sit down.

“We’ll be going over the Wall. I need to know you’re in shape to keep moving.”

“The others are bringing Armin back here before we start searching for survivors,” Hange informs.

You nod as Levi cuts away your pant leg and you grimace when you realize how swollen it is along your shin. Shaking his head to himself, he yanks your boot off and begins to wrap a nearby piece of wood he found and broke into the right length to your leg, splinting the bones tightly. Your bruised and broken fingers dig into the crate with every wince but he keeps going and going as you look down at him.

He slips the final round underneath the layers of cloth before stuffing your foot back into your boot despite the pressure mounting as soon as he does.

He steps back and you stand unsteadily. The pain is even worse, now, but you’re just going to have to be stuck with it. You’re sure walking around on a broken leg isn’t good for the health, but it shouldn’t matter. There’s still work to do.

“How much gas do you have?”

“Enough,” you reply, patting your ODM gear and he nods.

“I’m refilling once we get over the wall. All our supplies are probably knocked everywhere so grab as much as you can on the way back.”

“Yes, sir.”

The battlefield reeks of the tang of blood and shit. The air is hot and heavy under the beginnings of a warmer afternoon, and your stomach roils at the bloody mist still tinting the air. This was a massacre—nothing less—and you swallow your nausea, picking your way through the battlefield.

They search for a singular thing, but with the amount of red on the field, you can’t pick out what used to be brown from what used to be green.

“It would’ve been closer to the houses than the others,” Levi mutters. “Forster said he was hit first.” You nod, turning around and examining the land they’ve already traversed.

Standing beside your captain, your eyes widen when you catch sight of the only white on the field. It reminds you of the flags they’d teach about in cadet corps—white meant fall back, white meant give up.

White meant nothing Commander Erwin stood for, and you let out a soft gasp. Levi’s gaze snaps to you.

“Commander Erwin’s horse,” you finally croak, lifting a dead finger to point at the steed. It lays limp, dirty, and the more you focus on it, the more you can make out its features. His eyes are closed, and you could’ve believed the stallion was asleep as you approach it and crouch down slowly, touching the horse’s cheek. “Sleep well.”

“What a fucking shitstorm,” Levi murmurs as you push yourself up. He tugs your elbow to help you, and you send him an appreciative glance but you find he’s already looking at everything else, haunted pale gaze searching for something.

He looks starving for his target, greedy, and you look away. There’s blood that hasn’t steamed away from his face, and you don’t want to think about whose it could be.

You turn to see where the dirt had been imprinted on in an odd-long oval shape, different from the thousands of hoofprints stomped into the mud. A drag mark, carved into the soft mud. Following the trail, your throat begins to close up as you hobble beside it, only stopping when you finally find what they’re looking for.

You see the green cape, soaked in red, dragging at the ground, muddied and soiled, stepped all over and half-buried.

Nonetheless, you reach down pick it up, flapping what dry crumbs you can off the fabric and folding it over your arm before glancing over to where Levi stands near the horse’s head, staring at the patch of blood soaking the dirt.

“Captain, I found it.” You tilt your head heavily. “Captain?” Returning to his side, you try to find what he’s looking at. Following his gaze, you frown warily at the patch where the mud is saturated red, the grass still drinking in the blood like it’s been stuck in a drought and it mixes like a sickly stew.

Commander Erwin’s blood, you realize after a moment. Nausea sluices through you and you blink away the burning. The idea of him, cold, lying in the blood and awake, listening to his troops die around him…

“Captain, I found it,” you whisper rawly. As if your words break the trance Levi has put himself in, he looks up, shaking his shoulders out.

“Finally, he’ll have something to cover himself with,” he mutters at last, grabbing the cape from you, and you only look at your captain. At the rough, deep quality in his tone you’ve never heard before as he clears his throat. “Idiot.”

“Sir, don’t you mean buried with?” you ask timidly, and he shakes his head. “We’re not going to leave him here, are we?”

“We’re not bringing him back with us. By all means, his dream lived here and he died here. He fought his whole life to get here—I’m not going to be the one to take him away from that.”

Take him away from his mission, you hear in your head. Who is Captain Levi to decide that? Who are you to decide? Erwin stays here. It makes sense. I stay here. They had a mission. Who was I? Who was I to tell them to stop because of me?

“I’ll come back,” Levi continues, promises, but not to you, “to bury him. When this is all over. He deserves a proper burial.” Lips pressing together, you swallow down your words, and bow your head. After an unknowable amount of time, Levi finally sighs, shoulders caving, and starts walking back to the Wall. The green is clutched tight in his fist. You stand by the blood stain, the tip of your boot beside the head of the horse who could’ve been sleeping and he calls out, voice sharp and normal again: “C’mon. We can’t hang around—“

“I want to help you bury him,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and Levi freezes in his spot. Swallowing, you close your eyes for a moment, feel every nerve inside you pulse, before you fix your gaze on the Wings of Freedom printed on Levi’s back. “I know it’s not my place, but Commander Erwin gave me a chance to prove I wasn’t weak and I failed him. I need to make it up to him somehow.”

Levi sighs softly before continuing on and you limp after him as fast as you can, catching up after a few pained grunts. Your leg is blistering, burning from the inside out, but nothing has scorched you more than your tears, so in comparison, you almost feel relieved.

“Some things I have to do on my own, you understand that?”

Despite yourself, the faintest ripple in your lips that could’ve been a smile runs through your face before disappearing as if it were never there. It’s something he’s told you so many times during your suspension and you dip your head.

“Of course, sir.”

He nods numbly. “Okay, then.”

The others went to the basement and you’re left here.

Someone calls your name softly as you sit on the edge of the wall, looking at the ruins of Shiganshina hollowly. Raising your head, you see Armin standing, and you sweep your gaze for a moment before turning to look at the city again. He sits uninvited next to you and you barely resist the urge to ask him to leave you alone, reminding yourself you have no reason to be angry with him.

He didn’t eat Bertholdt on purpose. It’s just how the cards were dealt, how the dice was rolled. The pieces on the chess board lined up, and they had a chance to seize a game-winning piece.

Armin twiddles his thumbs. Your shoulders slump forward.

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” you intone quietly. “What matters is that you’re okay.”

“Yeah, but I ate Bertholdt, and I know—“

“Armin, don’t.” He falls quiet, and you look at him desolately. “There really isn’t anything we can do about it, now. At the end of the day, they’re gone, and I’m still here. You’re still here, and Bertholdt isn’t. That’s all.”

“I know.”

“I really am happy that you’re okay, Armin. I’m so grateful that you could come back, and that our side managed to get another Titan power. Maybe we can turn the tides, but…”

Knowingly, he finishes it for you, “But the price was too high for you.”

The words make you flinch and you don’t correct him.

“They could’ve killed me so many times. I’m starting to wonder why they didn’t,” you whisper mostly to yourself. A doe blue gaze fall on your cheek, and you close your eyes, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“Because they care about you. I could never try and kill Mikasa or Eren. I can’t even imagine it, so the fact that you tried to put those feelings aside for duty, I think that’s saying a lot more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

You scowl at his words, hating the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks again. You’re drained, dried out, yet still, more tears are always coming even when you think you’re done.

“Armin, if I took the multiple chances I had to kill Bertholdt, to kill Reiner, I think both you and Commander Erwin would be alive. Captain Levi would’ve never had to make such an impossible choice, and—“ And maybe I could remember how to breathe without all this weight on my chest. But you don’t say that. Instead, quietly, you plead, “Can you just… leave me alone? I don’t want to talk, right now.”

Armin’s lips upturn into a hurt frown, but you only stare at the space just in front of your knees, focus fixed on some imaginary spot. Before long, he’s pushing himself to his feet and walking back to Sasha, and you clasp your hands, watching the city blankly.

For some reason, you can’t stop thinking about the time you and Annie had walked the walls the day before graduation, finding Reiner and Bertholdt up there, too. How had that only been a few months ago?

It feels like years, now.

Without a second thought, you pick yourself up slowly, your splinted leg awkwardly colliding with the stone. Levi told you to get some rest, but…

You begin to walk away from the others, not quite sure where you’re going. You go past Floch, who’s taking watch, and when you close your eyes, you can hear footsteps behind you—two, light and fleeting, one more sure and steady.

“Have fun in the MPs, Annie. I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you.”

“You won’t be missing much.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Hey, the military ranking shouldn’t determine whether or not someone can join the MPs. What if someone’s just as good, but didn’t make it into the top ten because of how limited the spots are? It doesn’t make sense.”

A sharp laugh. “Someone needs to wash Bertholdt’s mouth, creampie. Look at him, renegading against the government.”

Eyes snapping open, you turn to look over your shoulder.

Nothing but still air.

The next few days pass in nothingness.

You’re moved to the old Scouts headquarters—where Section Commander Miche died, you still feel his ghost lingering the halls—away from the others. It’s mostly empty besides a few Garrison Regiment officers who keep an eye on you—Captain’s orders, and they’re your main source of news, even if it is just catching hints of gossip. You don’t speak to them, mostly because you’re sure they think guarding a teenager with broken bones who doesn’t even talk back is way below their pay grade.

Most of your friends aren’t keen on talking to you either, with a fair few forced exceptions, but at this point, you’ve written your report, detailing everything you did during the campaign, and you don’t want to talk to them either. You haven’t since their ride back.

They know you went back for Reiner, and, instead of striking him down, you tried to pull him free. It doesn’t matter.

You roll onto your side. Everything feels grey, time passing by inconsequentially in the rise and fall of the sun. You mostly stay in your room, content to let Shiganshina crush the ruins of your memory into dust, and you don’t recognize what day it is. Your nights are plagued with flashes of Bertholdt, the sounds of his screams ringing until you’re deaf. Reiner’s bare, burned face, steaming, eyes covered in a blindfold too tight over his skin.

The ragged gasp of your name.

There’s a knock on the door. You don’t budge from where you stare out the window, at the sun gleaming in through. It dapples on the cotton of your sheets, gentle pools of gold, and you trace one of the warm shapes absently with your wrapped, splinted fingers.

It nearly frightens you how much you don’t feel, how much you don’t care what happens to you next. The world is hollow, everything inside it scooped out and replaced with black coldness.

“I know you’re awake in there.”

Levi.

“You better be decent. I’m coming in either way.”

The door clicks and swings open.

They had a ceremony two days ago, honouring the survivors of the expedition before they could move on to a far more somber occasion today—a service for Commander Erwin at the end of the week, and the government going into a state of mourning. Flags are raised, speechs are prepared to be given, and you’re pretty sure the empty casket will be closed and buried somewhere in Mitras, empty words carved into a plaque.

Levi’s sigh breaches your ears. “Have you at least eaten today?”

“Yes.” You don’t move nor start at the creakiness in your voice. Blinking slowly, you examine a ripple in the bedsheet. “Doctor said if I didn’t, he’d break my other leg.”

“Good.” He walks to the window, and you see his shape lingering at the edge of your eyes. Tilting your head, you look at him. He looks rested, as well as he can be, but there’s a raggedness in his stature, the exhaustion engrained in his face that only comes with grief.

“The memorial is today,” you point out unhelpfully. “Will you be speaking?”

“Have to,” he mutters brusquely. “Not exactly excited to eulogize Erwin in front of a bunch of stuck-up bastards. Don’t think he would’ve minded either, if I didn’t.”

“So why are you doing it?” You shift a bit, sit up a bit straighter. There’s a pulse of silence where Levi seems to debate how to answer. His lips press into a thin, white line, and he scowls at his reflection in the pane of glass, before he exhales sharply.

“I don’t know,” he says before shifting the discussion blatantly. “Either way, you won’t hear it. You don’t need to come.”

“Sir…”

“You didn’t come to the ceremony two days ago, either,” he snorts. “I’m sure it’s no skin off your back.” He’s right, and you smile grimly. “Focus on healing.” Tugging at the lapel of his formal Survey Corps coat, he continues, “It’ll be a waste of time, anyway. Most of them spent most of their careers hating him. I doubt her Royal Majesty or any of your friends will want to be there, either.”

You swallow, sitting upright and adjusting the pillows against your back. He glances over, and rakes his gaze down your body with a critical glare.

“Would you look at that? You haven’t moulded to the futon, yet. I was starting to think you had lost your body back in Shiganshina.” He steps away from the window and turns, standing at the foot of your bed.

Clearing your throat, you reach up to scratch your collarbone and find blue-grey fixed on your fingers. “When do you think we can go back for him, Captain?”

Levi frowns, gaze flickering up to your face again.

“I don’t know. At this point, it could be months before the state declares that Wall Maria is free of Titans, especially with how small the Survey Corps are. Garrison soldiers can only help so much,” he adds grudgingly. “And the MPs are pretty much useless. Most of them. And Hange… is doing their best. Let’s just say that.” You nod again. He glances at the clock airily, then at you again. “Get some rest.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, and he studies you quickly, gauging how honest you are with your promise, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and turns around. Your stomach is a thousand stones in your stomach as he glances at the splintered wood of the wall, and his footsteps slow to a stop. Watching his profile, you wait for him to say something as he lowers his gaze to the waste bin by the door.

He doesn’t. He simply continues out the door, speaks to the soldier on guard outside your room, and disappears from your sight.

“Lunch will be in two hours,” the soldier says before closing the door. You turn to look out the window.

Two days earlier, Connie and Sasha had come bearing a bolo tie, green gem gleaming, expression somber.

“It’s yours. For your services to the Survey Corps and to Historia.”

You had the grace to wait for them to be gone before flinging it with all your might at the wall and listening to the wood splinter as it clattered to the bottom of the bin.

The snow melts as soon as it touches your nose, and you glance at Levi uneasily as he jams the tip of the shovel into the dirt. His jacket’s been shed, and you swear he could be steaming with how much sweat drenches his entire body. He had insisted on laying the Commander’s bones to rest and burying him yourself which meant you had perched yourself on the roof overhanging the little clearing they’d found. It’s off-track in an already trampled ceremony—his grave now the singular headstone in a field of a thousand bodies—but it’s somewhere he can rest, you’re sure.

Adjusting your grip on your ODM gear, you look up at the blindingly grey sky. The snow slows to a stop as you fall to one-knee, examining the terrain.

Returning to active duty had been difficult. Rehabilitation even harder. You felt like there was scrutiny everywhere you walked, and there was a strange air lingering as the summer faded and fall began.

Even now, you’re sure Levi and Hange are the only people who bother to check up on you because they want to, not because they’re obligated to remember whether or not you’re still alive.

You scratch at your neck. Eventually they had to clear out the old barracks where you’d been staying which is what you’ve been doing for the past few months to avoid any clashes with your friends, and you’d come across the chess set, untouched, the pieces still in place as if the players had simply forgotten the game.

Your fingers had brushed over the piece Reiner had called a pawn, and it felt that much heavier.

A foul poison erodes your heart as you glance down at Levi again. He’s crouched in front of the tombstone, and you look away again, at the Wall. Beyond that—

Reiner is still out there. You wonder if he thinks of you half as much as you think about him, and whether if it’s just as laced with rage and longing. Half the time, you think you could scream into his face before tearing his head off his shoulders. Other times, you just want him back. You want to see Bertholdt’s smile again. You want to hear Annie’s dry jokes.

You could cry yourself to dehydration if you thought about it enough.

A sharp whistle cracks the air and you look down. Levi’s looking up at you, shrugging his jacket back on and you lower yourself back to the ground with a burst of gas, landing beside him.

There’s a quiet in which he gives you a sharp nod and you know what to do.

Accepting the handkerchief Levi offers you, you wipe at Erwin’s grave where some mud had been kicked up on the letters before laying down the flowers you had cradled in your arm. They’re dry, the petals already crumbling, but still, despite how gloomy everything seems, it almost feels right.

You step back, squinting a bit, the handkerchief clutched tight in your hand. The tombstone is a marbled grey, polished smooth and rectangular in shape, the corner sharp enough to puncture skin. Carved into the surface is his name, birth and death date, his title—and underneath all of that:

HIS FATHER’S SON

The epitaph is almost haunting the more you look at it and you salute the headstone before letting your hand fall to your side. Staring at the tombstone too small for a man of the Commander’s stature, you feel something hot sear through your chilled body. It’s nothing he deserves.

“Do you know why you were placed under my watch for a month?”

You blink, turning to look at the Captain. He’s paled so much in the winter months, it’s hard to think you aren’t looking at a ghost. The only exceptions are his red nose, his lips, and his flaring cheeks. That and those knife-point eyes.

“Because everyone around me was a traitor,” you murmur blankly, unsure of why he’s asking. Your hands ball into tight fists as you add, “And it only made sense that I should be one, too. Who better to watch me then Humanity’s Greatest to make sure I didn’t shift into a Titan, too?”

“It’s because Commander Erwin insisted not to leave you alone,” Levi agrees, “but not because he didn’t trust you. I doubt someone like you would turn around against the only people who are there for you. I read your file. Orphaned at birth, you grew up on a farm with no close known relations.” You turn your face away, teeth gritting together, and Levi tilts his head. “The 104th were all you had. Human nature insists that we latch onto those we have left.”

“Even you, Captain?”

Levi doesn’t answer. When you look at him again, his stare on the stone is darker, laced with noxious grief. “This job isn’t pleasant. You lose enough people—even those you didn’t care for—and you either grow numb, tired, or so damaged you can’t even wake up to another day. Most people find life meaningless after a few years.”

“Right…” Struggling to find the words, you cross your arms over your chest, fingers wrapping tight around your biceps. “I don’t know where you’re going with this. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

A heavy sigh. Levi shifts his boots in the grass.

“And what are you going to do after? What’ll you set your mind to next? Working as a Scout? I doubt you’ll find any fulfillment in working with people you don’t trust.”

“That’s not true—“

“You have a knack for isolating yourself when you believe you’re unneeded. Exiling yourself to an abandoned building under the pretence of ‘cleaning it out’ can only last so long,” he cuts off sharply, eyes finding yours dully. You clench your jaw, swallowing hard. He looks back at the tomb. “Look, I’m going to tell you something, and I expect you not to speak of it again, got it?”

You nod tightly. “Of course, sir.”

“I’m aware of people misunderstanding or making assumptions of where I’ve come from. To put it simply, I was a criminal in the Underground and I ran a network with two others. They were as close to me as I assume Hoover, Braun, and Leonhart were to you.”

You nod again, slower this time.

“We joined the Survey Corps because the Commander insisted it was a better alternative to a life time’s sentence in Mitras dungeons. I’m still waiting on that promise, Erwin,” he adds without any bite. Instead, his tone almost softens. “When they died on our first expedition outside the walls, I wanted to be left alone. He was only Section Commander at the time, and Shadis insisted I should be left to the MPs.

“Erwin refused. He forced me to come to training for the next expedition, to drills, and to the events the military held every once in a while just so I wouldn’t stay in my room all day. I lashed out. I screamed at him behind closed doors, was an outright violent son of a bitch and an unpleasant one at that, but he persisted.”

Levi scoffs. “It took me a long time to grasp what he was doing besides being a nuisance. It was when I realized I was constantly at his right hand when he was promoted to Commander did I understand. Every human dies. Whether or not they sacrificed themselves for a greater cause, it will always be a selfish act in the end.”

“Selfish?” you echo. “But, Commander Erwin died for the Scouts to survive, didn’t he? If he never did, you never would’ve stopped the Beast Titan. We’d probably all be dead.”

“And who’s left to clean after his mess, huh?” he cuts coolly. “That’s what’s selfish about death—those corpses get off scot-free. Their last moments may be guilty, or afraid, but they won’t give a damn the minute they stop breathing. It’s the living who have to deal with the consequences. Grieving alone sends you into a pit that’s hard to crawl out of. You either sink, or you come out of it strong like hell, but it’s easier when something’s at the top, so to speak. Telling you to get off your ass and climb out.”

He scowls, and his glare narrows at the epitaph as he half-heartedly kicks some of the disturbed dirt at Erwin’s headstone, but it’s less malicious and almost as if, even now, Levi wants to point fingers at Erwin. “I don’t know. Metaphors were always this idiot’s strong suit. All I know is how to cut down Titans.”

Your shoulders sink. “Captain Levi…”

“He’s why I volunteered to supervise. I remember what our gracious Commander told me,” he says quietly. “It’s a lonely life we walk. The people who stay are the ones we have to hold onto with both hands and all our might.”

You soak in his words silently, tracing the carved E in the stone with your eyes. Levi sighs, lowering his head and shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He seems to shake his head to himself, pale eyes darkening, lips twisting into a furious scowl. You know that scowl well—it’s the type of face one pulls when they’re trying to hide how real fucking sad they are.

You look away. You shouldn’t be seeing this.

“Suppose that doesn’t matter, though,” he murmurs. “They can slip through either way. What you need to do now is keep moving. You keep them in your memory, and you keep moving, but stop letting them haunt you. Find a new purpose, or it’ll be meaningless and you’ll realize you should’ve died, not those poor bastards who devoted their hearts to what they wanted.” He tilts his head back to the sky. Softly, then: “No one else can do that for you.”

You slide your own hands into your pockets, pull it tighter around yourself. “What if I don’t know what to do? What I want with my life?”

The first raindrop hits him first. A gentle splash against his nose that makes his eyes flutter, but not close. The next hit you, tapping against your skull that soothes the ache in your chest.

“Keep moving on, anyway, until you find it. It’s no good to stand around thinking about what should’ve been or what you could’ve done. Regret begets regret—have enough and it’ll start affecting your choices. Don’t have any when you go, and maybe you’ll live a life happier than most.”

You nod. Your neck feels tired. For lack of anything else, you manage to say, “Captain Levi… I’m really sorry for your loss.”

He doesn’t answer.

You stand there, fixing your gaze at the gravestone for a moment more, before bowing your head and saying your thank you to the fallen Commander. You turn around.

“I’ll wait for you by the Wall, sir,” you murmur. He nods, still staring up at the sky as if he can see something you cannot. You study his profile for a moment, then begin to walk away.

Riding back to Trost, the weight slowly returns, bearing down on your shoulders as if you can already feel the thousand-pound stares. The elevators are lowered and they step on, dismounting quickly to ease the horses. Garrison soldiers are posted along with a singular Scout, and you frown when you reach the top.

“Jean?”

He smiles grimly. “How was it?”

“Shitty, I guess.”

And you leave it at that. Jean watches you critically, surveying your form, but you only stand on the edge of the Wall, looking at a world that’s about to get much bigger.

In truth, you don’t know how to answer. Your whole body is heavy, only going through the movements as Levi climbs up next to you. He takes the reins of your horse as well and heads off without a second word. You watch him go as he walks towards the nearest building, presumably to find the nearest elevator down the other side of the Wall.

Sighing, you turn around to face the land you’ve just travelled. Wall Maria stands in the distance. Your gaze fixes on nothing, staring through, and you wonder if you’re just as ghostly as you think you are. All you can hear is the sound of Bertholdt, screaming for you to save him.

The land is barren, desolating to even look at it with the faint rain muddying everything and dulling all the colours. The grass is brown, the trees frail and empty. Nothing like a few months ago when everything seemed so promising of life.

“One day, we’ll be eating like this every day,” you had told Annie during a visit to Trost once. She was quiet, her blue eyes focused on the cream bun but softer than you thought was normal. Her lips curved into a faint smile as you added, “Just imagine it. Us as the dream team in the MPs, solving assignments together, and eating sweets in the inner Wall. It sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“I guess.”

How did that dream turn into this nightmare? It’s like every part of you has been chopped off until you’re nothing but a bleeding body and a heart struggling to find the energy to pulse another second. Your limbs are gone, bleeding, ravaged, your head’s aching, and you feel every shadow held back by Annie’s fierce stare, Bertholdt’s arms, Reiner’s body shielding you, swarm you all at once now that they’re no longer there to protect you.

Joining the military had numbed your body, and Bertholdt and Reiner had cut you off at the knees. And Annie…

Annie had spelt out tragedy on your throat in blood. If only you hadn’t ignored the red dripping down your neck, staining every word you breathed, maybe you could’ve stopped this.

You are wrestling for a way to keep crawling towards the light, but you will never be fast enough. Captain Levi had been right. Now that you’re alone, the pit is steeper than the walls, steeper than your fear, and the idea of waking up, of walking side by side with people who you’ve turned your back on for traitors, makes you nauseous.

They don’t deserve your half-hearted loyalty.

Your shoulders fall at that revelation, and your eyes close when you realize what you want.

It’s something you told Reiner, a million years ago.

No more bloodshed, no more war. There didn’t have to be water, there just had to be him—but even so, that can’t happen anymore.

The former, however…

“We don’t hate you, you know,” Jean says. “None of us blame you for what happened. You can still come back.”

“That’s really nice of you, Jean,” you murmur blankly as your hands move on their own accord. “But I just can’t let this go.”

You reach up to your neck, and pull the green cloak away from your throat. Drawing it off your shoulders, you hold it in your hands, the blue and white wings of freedom dull in the pale light. You run a hand through the fabric, over the stitched insignia that once meant so much to you before you step closer to the edge. Jean’s eyes snap to you.

Freedom feels like nothing when everyone who was supposed to stand next to you the day you achieved it is gone.

Fists tightening in the green, you clench your teeth and with a silent exhale, you fling it off the side of the wall. Jean lets out a strangled noise, and together, the two watch as it flutters to the bottom of the wall.

The blue and white Wings of Freedom crumple as the cape falls, spread out by the wind like true wings.

“What are you doing?” he asks roughly as your hands move next to your belt. Undoing the clasp, the metal collides with your frigid, mended fingers, and your skin begins to burn as he grabs your arm, trying to stop you. “Hey—“

You jerk out of his grip, not looking at him. You don’t think you can.

“I need to find a new life, Jean,” you murmur, your stomach flipping, your heart wilting, your words carrying in the wind. “This one is finished.”

“No. No, your life is here.”

Your face burns as you blink, something warm trailing down your cheeks, but Jean only grabs you by the shoulders, trying to make you look at him but still, you continue to detach yourself from the contraption. He turns you, shaking you gently, but not even an immovable object can stall the unstoppable force of your hands.

Throat cinching shut, you stare at his chest as your ODM gear falls to the ground in an ungraceful crash. The hollow thud of the containers rattles your body and you look down at your gear that’s brought you so far.

“Don’t do this,” Jean murmurs. “You’re a Scout. Don’t let them make you give up.”

“No one’s making me give up, Jean.” You finally look up, look right through him, and Jean flinches back, his hands loosening and you take the opportunity to twist, shoving your gear off the wall with one swift kick. Heat shoots up your leg and the pain warms your entire body.

ODM gear falls, nothing more than deadweight, and it clanks against the wall before bouncing off the stone, and Jean jumps off, deploying his own gear to try and catch the tech before it can crash, damaged beyond repair, at the bottom.

Staring at his figure for a moment, you wonder if the harrowing feeling in your chest will last you forever, or just for now while you wait for something to take its place.

You’re not sure. But you do know a part of you feels lighter. You do know that a part of you just wants to go home and sleep.

Turning, you walk after Captain Levi, follow his trail to the building, and when Jean reaches the top of the wall again, you’ve disappeared.

143 notes · View notes

quillsandcauldroncakes · 4 years ago

Text

When My Back Was Turned (Ezio Auditore X Reader)

Words: 3645

Warnings/Themes: Injury, Violence, Blood, Not Quite Character Death, Angst, Fluff

Characters/Pairings: Ezio x Reader, Claudia, Mario, Maria (briefly mentioned)

A/N: This is just something I’ve been working on and finally decided to post. I almost didn’t. This isn’t the whole story that I wrote, there is more to the ending, but it felt too rushed for me to want to post it. Some background information for this one, I imagined the reader/ this character as ten years younger than Ezio. And in a form of self-indulgence, she comes from a world where AC is just a game, but I imagine it also has it’s version of Templars and Assassins that no one knows about. Thanks for reading!

They limped up to the villa, having abandoned their horses at the stables at the entrance to the village. Eyes had been glued to the battered pair from the moment they had approached. He wasn’t as badly beaten as she was, only sporting a split lip, a sprained wrist, and various cuts and bruises. He held her upright with an arm gently around her waist. He didn’t want to jostle her bruised, possibly fractured, ribs or her recently dislocated shoulder. She was bleeding from multiple wounds along her face and hands.

They were on their way to what was supposed to be a simple visit to Monteriggioni that turned into an ambush by some mountain bandits. Ezio had made it out relatively well and was already running away, thinking that his wife was just behind him. However, her shout of surprise told him otherwise.

As she had been about to follow him, a couple bandits grabbed her. And before she knew it, they had shoved her over the cliff face. It felt like she had rolled for hours when it had been mere seconds before her hand grabbed onto a young tree sprouting from the rock. It groaned and cracked under her added weight and threatened to break. Upon catching herself, her already damaged body smacked the rock and a sickening pop sounded as her arm left its socket.

Ezio had immediately jumped into action, swiftly dispatching the remaining attackers, and rushing to the cliff's edge. His heart hammered in his chest at the sight of her clinging to that sapling for dear life. She was too far down for him to grab her and she definitely wouldn’t be able to climb back up with her shoulder. Thinking fast, he stripped the cloaks and capes from the fallen bandits and tied them together into a makeshift rope. She could barely keep a hold of it as he pulled her back up to safety.

He held her close to him, petting her sweaty and bloody hair. He whispered comforting words to her as she shook against him. He knew she was scared of heights and falling, the reason for her refusing to free-run on certain buildings and to do a Leap of Faith, unless absolutely necessary. However, in this situation, she hadn’t been in control and it terrified her.

Once she had quieted down, Ezio sat her up properly and told her he needed to reset her shoulder. She had nodded somberly and let him pop it back into place without a peep. Ezio almost found it amusing how she can take the pain of a dislocated shoulder with only a wince, but she couldn’t handle heights. But now wasn’t the time to tease her.

Recovering their horses that had run off with their packs, the pair made their way back to Monteriggioni.

A doctor was already waiting for them as they entered the villa, some kind villager sending for one when they saw the two. Mario and Claudia stood with the doctor, the older female’s hands over her mouth, and Y/N was practically unconscious by the time they made it to the trio.

Mario swept up to take the woman into his arms, allowing Ezio to cradle his wrist and follow them into their shared room. (Y/n) was placed gently on the bed and the doctor immediately began his treatment. Ezio collapsed into the chair at the foot of the bed, his armor digging uncomfortably into his flesh.

“What happened?” Mario began his interrogation before Ezio could get his bearings. Shaking his head, Ezio began to carefully remove his armor. Claudia was already helping the doctor remove (Y/n)’s, who moaned in pain. The younger man’s eyes fixed on her at the sound.

Seeing that his nephew was not going to answer him now, Mario rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Until (Y/n) was cared for and out of danger, Mario knew Ezio wouldn’t speak to anyone about the mission. This wasn’t the first time this has happened, but it is the worst condition either of them had been in in a long time.

“Once you two are rested, meet me in my office to discuss what happened.” Mario placed a hand on Ezio’s shoulder, squeezing gently. The younger man simply nodded, not wanting to take his eyes off his wife.

Nearly an hour later, (Y/n)’s wounds were patched up and Claudia had changed her into a loose shirt and pants. Ezio’s wrist had been wrapped and put into a sling and his lip cared for. He had moved his chair to be right next to her as she slept, tucked into the bed and her favorite blanket pulled up to her nose, just the way she liked it. He wished he could curl up with her in that bed, but on doctor’s orders, she was not to be moved around too much or her ribs would not heal properly.

Ezio knew he should probably go find his uncle but speaking to anyone and leaving his wife’s side didn’t sound very appealing. So he sat in his chair, watching as her eyes flickered behind her eyelids. She must be having a bad dream. As she often does after a particularly bad mission.

He reached over and stroked her cheek with his good hand, smiling softly when she nuzzled into his hand. She would probably wake in the morning grumpy and very hungry. An angel when she was asleep but a terrifying beast upon awakening. Ezio smiled wider at the thought. She would definitely kill him had she known his thoughts.

At some point in the late evening, Claudia knocked and left some food on the table next to him, squeezing his shoulder and telling him to eat and rest. He nodded and picked at the food. The roasted duck didn’t quite smell or taste as appealing as it did when he wasn’t consumed with worry.

Many times has he tried to convince his wife to retire from Assassin duties, to stay safe and live life to the fullest while she was still young. But those conversations usually ended with him sleeping on the floor and her not speaking to him for a full evening. How dare he think that she would ever let him face the dangers they did alone.

After eating as much as he could stomach, he carefully stripped from his robes and stepped behind the partition in the room. A tub filled with water sat in the corner, filled earlier with hot water by a maid. By now the water was less than lukewarm, but he hardly felt it as he lowered himself in. She had already been cleaned by Claudia with a cloth and a basin of water.

The partition was positioned so he could still see her on the bed when he leaned back. On his own terms, he would have just climbed into bed after changing into a sleeping shirt, but since he began courting her, she always refuses him to enter her bed unless clean.

‘I don’t want my bed smelling like blood, metal, and sweat!’ She had yelled at him early on in their relationship. No matter where they were if there was a bed, she had to be clean before entering it. He figured it came from whatever futuristic upbringing she had.

He still vividly remembers that day, he had just brought the Apple to Leonardo’s workshop with his uncle and Niccolò for the artist to study. When Leonardo had reached out to touch it a bright, golden light engulfed the room and a figure fell from thin air. Ezio had rushed forward to catch the person.

She was unconscious and dressed in strange clothes. But he wouldn’t lie, this stranger was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. In the next few days they had found out she came from a different world, far in the future. She had been tasked by a being called Minerva to guide Ezio on his journey.

Six years had now gone by and she had since become a master assassin and his wife. His gaze fell down to his bruised knuckles. A gold wedding band laid just above one, on his left ring finger. He didn’t normally wear it on missions but seeing as how this was supposed to be just a visit back to Monteriggioni, he had worn it proudly. It had a red smudge of blood on it. Removing it from his finger, he washed it in the waters.

Finishing up in the tub, he threw on a sleeping shirt and stepped quietly over to the bed. He was always hesitant when sleeping with her when she was injured. He was either a fitful sleeper or a cuddler. Neither one is very good for her injured state. But he knew she wouldn’t rest as well without him next to her. So being cautious, he placed a few pillows between them before fully settling in. He laid on his side, careful of his wrist, and gently stroked a knuckle across her soft cheek.

Her lips quirked up and she turned her head to nuzzle into his hand. He let a gentle smile take over his face. Even battered and weary, she still found a reason to smile. Pride swelled in his chest at being the reason for her smiles most of the time. A truly beautiful thing to behold.

“Buonanotte, amore mio.” He withdrew his hand, but let it rest on her stomach. As his eyes closed, he felt calloused fingers wrap around his.

“Buonanotte, Bello.” Her voice was raspy and quiet, but it was still the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

________________________________________________________________

A knock to the solid wood door roused him from his dreamless sleep. As predicted, he had moved a lot in his sleep. Now he laid on his back, arms sprawled out and one leg tossed over the barrier of pillows, his foot tucked under her leg. The sheets had bunched around his waist and the duvet tossed over her slumbering body. Drool was crusted to the side of his mouth and his hair was in disarray. She, of course, looked positively heavenly, despite her injuries.

Rising from the bed, Ezio straightened his appearance and moved to the door as a second knock sounded. The kind Doctor from the previous day had returned, most likely to change her bandages. Behind the elderly man was Claudia, a tray with fruits, bread, and two small bowls of soup on it.

“Ah, Dottore, Buongiorno. Come in.” Ezio stepped to the side, letting the two into the room. He excused himself to behind the partition to change into more presentable clothes. It was somewhat difficult with only one good arm, but he managed. After struggling to button his shirt up with one hand he gave up, stepping out from the partition. Claudia rolled her eyes and buttoned his shirt up for him.

“Nothing but a child.” She grumbled, poking him roughly in the chest. He chuckled, rubbing the spot.

“Careful, Claudia, I still have uses for him.” A raspy voice came from the bed. Claudia’s attention snapped over to her sister-in-law.

“(Y/N)!” The siblings rushed to the bed, leaving enough space for the doctor. “How are you feeling?” Claudia questioned. The younger woman gave a pained smile as the Doctor peeled back the bandage on one of her deeper wounds.

“Like hell, to be honest. And I’d kill for some ibuprofen…” She bit her lip and pressed her head further into the pillows when the doctor dabbed an alcohol-soaked rag into the wound. Ezio took a step closer, worry flooding his veins. He truly hated seeing her in such a state. He was beating himself up inside for not getting to her sooner.

“I can give you a poultice to take the edge away around your ribs.” The doctor began rewrapping her wounds. “I’d advise you twist or move around as little as possible for the next few weeks to give your ribs time to heal, and only wear loose clothing. Your other bandages must be changed every eight hours.”

“Grazie, Dottore.” The woman nodded in appreciation. The doctor smiled and set a small jar of the poultice on the bedside table. After giving a few instructions on the next few weeks of healing, he bid the three farewell and departed.

“I’m glad you’re already doing better, mia sorella.” Claudia sat on the edge of the bed, taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “You had me worried sick seeing you return like that.” She lightly scolded.

“Sorry, Claudia. Next time I’ll tell those bandits to not attack us. Just because you worry about me.” Y/N smiled.

“Piccola merda.” The two women laughed, only to be cut off from the grunt of pain from the junior. Ezio finally stepped forward, still silent as before. He took the jar and removed the lid, setting it on the table.

Claudia stood up out of the way of the man on a mission. His face was drawn into a concentrated frown and he refused to look at his wife’s scratched-up face. With stiff and precise movements, he pulled up her shirt to just under her breast. Her skin was a vivid purple, the bruise forming overnight. His brows furrowed deeper at the sight.

His sister excused herself, sensing that the two needed to talk. But not before directing her brother to make sure to feed his wife the soup she had brought. He merely grunted in response, dipping two fingers into the greasy concoction.

Despite his angry demeanor and calloused hands, his touch was feather-light on her skin as he spread the poultice on her ribs. Her eyes didn’t leave his face as he worked. It had been so long that either one of them had been injured like this that Ezio was having a hard time controlling his emotions.

“Bello…” Her voice was just a whisper, but it had his finger freezing over her skin. He sniffed and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands clean. “Ezio. Look at me.” Her fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him down to sit next to her. He slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. And the tears immediately sprung to his eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Her own vision blurred with tears and she threaded her fingers with his. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“I should have been faster… I should have made sure you were following me…I’m so sorry, mia bella.” He covered his face with his free hand, the other squeezing her fingers. His chest constricted with suppressed sobs.

“Ezio.” Her voice was soft but stern. He managed to look at her again. “This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen, not even your sixth sense could have predicted this… I don’t blame you for this happening, so I don’t want you to blame yourself either.”

He sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.

“And besides, I promised to kick the ass of anyone who wronged you. So don’t make me kick your ass when I get out of this bed.” She gave him her signature lopsided grin. He let a laugh escape him despite the want to sob instead.

“Now, I’m starving, so help me sit up.”

“Sì, Signora.” Ezio helped her up and placed the tray of food in her lap. There was just enough for the two of them. They ate in silence for a few minutes, not realizing how hungry they were.

“The real tragedy here though is that I think I lost my hairpin down the side of that cliff.” She pouted as she popped a strawberry into her mouth. The dainty gold hairpin had been an anniversary gift from Ezio two years ago and she wore it every time they took a break.

Ezio chuckled. “I shall buy you all the hairpins until the void of missing that one is filled.”

“Oh, my dear, I fear your wallet will weep. As it may take all the hairpins in the world for the hole in my chest to be filled.” She feigned distress, pressing the back of her bandaged hand to her forehead.

A yawn suddenly forced its way from her, stretching her chest painfully.

“You should sleep, it will help you heal.” Ezio cleared the tray and set it next to the door. His wrist twinged. He almost forgot his own injury. Despite the pain though, he once again helped his wife lay down and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Her eyes batted slowly up at him; her lips pursed ever so slightly. He huffed a laugh and bent down to press a slow kiss to her waiting lips.

“I will be back before you wake again, mia bella.” After kissing her forehead, he made sure she closed her eyes then left the room. He had to report to his uncle about the attack. Not something he looked forward to.

________________________________________________________________

It took a little less than six weeks for her to be fully healed. Her ribs still twinged dully when she twisted wrong, but daily stretches were quickly strengthening her muscles again. Ezio had finally broken his moody attitude now that she was up and walking.

The pair had stayed in Monteriggioni while she healed but constantly corresponded with the others in the Brotherhood. But today, the two were finally returning to Venezia to continue their search for Savonarola and The Apple.

She knew Ezio was anxious to resume their search, but despite being injured, she was glad they had somewhat of a break. She knew it would be around this time that Savonarola would be making his way into Firenze to steal control from the Medici. In the next three years, they will be storming the city to take down the corrupt monk. And then they won’t have a moment to breathe.

“Tesoro, are you ready to go?” Ezio’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. She smiled up at her husband and nodded. They were already packed and had their horses ready for the long journey. She hugged Mario, Claudia, and Maria goodbye as they met them at the town's entrance. She mounted her horse, Ezio on his horse trotting up next to her.

Waving, the pair left the town. And for the next eight years, they fought tooth and nail against the Templars. They defeated Savonarola, regained the apple, took down Rodrigo, and returned to Monteriggioni. Got run out of said town and came to Rome. Together, they began the rebellion against Cesare, starting with destroying the machines he forced Leonardo to make for him.

The two had destroyed all but one, the naval cannon. Following the engineer and getting past the guards was the easy part. Burning the blueprints was also easy. But when it came to actually destroying the machine and the naval fleet, that had proved to be more difficult.

Ezio rowed the gondola while she manned the Cannon. And slowly but surely, they dispatched the large ships. They had survived a few near-hits, the small boat rocking violently, the ropes and extra ammunition sliding around on the floor.

She cheered as the last ship went down in flames, Ezio breathlessly laughing next to her. His arms were on fire from rowing.

Y/N turned the Cannon, facing down onto itself. She looked over to her husband with a grin. “Would you care to do the honors, messere?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ezio wrapped his hand around the firing mechanism, “Perdonatemi, Leonardo.” He pulled back on the lever and they both turned to dive off the side of the boat.

But as she had said once, many years ago, they could not have predicted this.

As the boat had been rocking from enemy fire, and she moved around, a rope had looped itself into the perfect snare around her foot. When she jumped from the boat, it tightened, the other end is tied off on the metal machine. She had dived perfectly, was swimming next to Ezio as the explosion went off.

And then she was yanked back.

As the Cannon sunk to the bottom of the bay the rope tightened even more around her leg. She was quickly running out of air as she tried to free herself. Her hidden blade picked the wrong time to jam, if only she cleaned it as often as she should have.

Ezio was just about to break the surface when he turned to look at her. And his blood went as cold as the water around him. Managing to take a deep breath at the surface, he dove back down, swimming as fast as he could. She was sinking fast, faster than he could keep up. He watched desperately as she finally gave up, looking up at him and giving him an apologetic smile.

“NO!” The word only came out as a bubbled scream, mixing with the last bit of air leaving her body. Her eyes slipped shut and she descended into the dark depths. Out of his vision.

Not caring about his swiftly depleting oxygen supply, Ezio continued to swim after her. His lungs burned and his arms and legs grew slower. Just when he thought he was going to pass out as well, a bright golden light illuminated the bay, he could see the outline of the Cannon as it sunk. But not her.

The ache in his chest became too much and his body moved to the surface on its own. His head broke the surface and he gasped for air. His body was filled with relief, but his mind was a typhoon of emotions. Panic, confusion, grief.

He knew that light, he had seen it fourteen years ago when she first entered this world.

And just as she had come, she disappeared just as quickly.

#ezio assassins creed #ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #assassin's creed #angst #fluff #My writing #grace-writes-shit #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore da firenze x reader

172 notes · View notes

story-thief · 3 years ago

Text

BNHA/MHA X READER (GIANTS AND TINIES): CHAPTER 5 - (Giant Deku x Y/N) Baby Bird

Info--------------------

Y/N- Age: 16, Hight: 5’7”, Gender: female, Quirk: Dark Phoenix, Affiliation: none

AU- Fantasy/Mythology AU, Fantasy fluff

Relationship background: You are a young Phoenix girl living a struggling life in your beautiful village set a drift on a cluster of floating islands, secluded in the clouds. Deku is a gentle giant with a deep respect and love for everything that flies.

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

It was midnight and everything in the village of Antikorrho seemed to be silent and peaceful despite the soft whistle of the strong breeze hoisting them through the sky. Though regardless of how things appeared, all was not silent, nor was it peaceful, and a life was in grave danger.

Her name was (Y/N) (L/N), she was no older than roughly sixteen years of age, and if she didn't hurry in a silent fashion, then odds were she wouldn't grow any more than that.

On cautious feet the youth darted between the numberless, quaint little homes clustered neatly on the formation of floating islands that drifted aimlessly along the skyline; each one seeming to hold a safe and happy family... something she lacked. Scared but determined eyes scanned the area around her before she made her next move. She was almost home free. If she could avoid the keen eyes of her unseen pursuer, then she would be able to get away from her village, but most importantly the one Phoenix-kind who had single handedly beaten, terrorized and hurt her her entire life, the one she should have been able to turn to for love and support, he who had betrayed her.

As she ran across the cobbled path to the edge of the main isle, she mustered up all the courage she could for what she was about to do next. (Y/N) had never attempted an escape before, and if this failed, well- she'd prefer not to go any further into that thought, but if she didn't she knew it'd be the end of the line for her.

Faster than she could have liked, the rocky, jagged ledge approached. The frightened harpy could feel the doubt creeping in swiftly, almost as fast as the upcoming drop, and in spite of her aching muscles, she pumped her legs harder, bare feet rocketing her forward with each step. There was no going back.

She jumped.

The trembling wings on the girl's back unfolded and caught the air in her hesitation, though she quickly tucked them back to her body, allowing herself to dive again toward the ocean of clouds below. The barrier beneath her served but one purpose, to keep Phoenix-borns from crossing to the undersky. It was a forbidden land that supposedly stretched beyond what the eye could see, a whole other world full of strange and diverse creatures. To go below the clouds was considered suicide as no one who did ever came back, but (Y/N) knew full well that it was the same to stay. So, stuck between a rock and a hard place, she opted to take her chances with the supposed world below the mist.

She didn't care to look up, not wanting to know whether or not he was following, only forcing herself to focus on what was ahead whilst she plunged through the swirling vapor.

After falling for what felt like quite some time she emerged on the other side of the foggy veil. Below her was far more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. Despite the dark cloak of the evening she could easily make out rolling hills and jagged mountains peppered and sprayed with large trees and an occasional river. Excitedly now, (Y/N) stretched her iridescent purple wings out; enjoying the feeling of the wings tickling her as it laced and weaved between feathers and outstretched fingers.

As she surveyed her new realm, it dawned her that she had made it, she was free! What she would do with this freedom she still didn't know, she hadn't really gotten that far but that could all be settled later; it didn't stop the uncontrollable, overwhelming happiness bubbling up in her chest any less. For now it seemed she should find a good place to rest and hide till morning. There was obviously a reason people didn't return, she should still tread with caution.

The harpy then glided down to land on one of the tall pines that stretched up amongst others, the tip on which she perched bending ever so slightly to her weight before slowing to a soft sway. Fluttering her wings uneasily for a brief moment she tucked them to her back before looking about for a good safe place to seek shelter.

Looking about she was able to spot a strange hole in the mountain side emitting light. It looked to be the mouth of a cave, and the light from inside was dim but steady, enticing the curious escapee to come closer. So, with a powerful beat of her wings, she rose into the air once again before gliding down to the strange and inviting glimmer.

Upon reaching it she slowed her descent with fluttering feathers before touching softly onto the cold stone surface. The rock under her feet was smooth, and so were the other seemingly carved, gigantic boulders lining the entrance. Even more curious now than before, (Y/N) crept silently and cautiously forward. The entrance wasn't all that long, and immediately after there was a large drop.

Whatever was in the ginormous cavity, she couldn't see, save the singular, gigantic lantern that lay on a smooth surface a good ways ahead and below. Taking another look back at the way she had come in and the chilly night air outside, she debated on checking it out. Finally giving in to her impulses rather than her better judgement, (Y/N) glided down to the tall source of light. The surface she and it stood on appeared to be made of wood, though she could figure nothing else about where she was. The lantern was warm nonetheless, and she was tired as the adrenaline from the night's events subsided. Maybe, just maybe, she'd sleep here... but just for tonight!!!! Tomorrow morning she'd wake up early and get going.

Satisfied with her doomed self promise, the little harpy curled her wings around her as she bundled by the warm flame that burnt steadily on, lulling her into a soft, much needed sleep.

Deku awoke to the soft glow of sunrise lighting his bedroom alongside the ever changing song nature sung as it slowly awoke. Smiling softly, the giant sluggishly squirmed out of the clearly homemade, but cozy bed he had been resting in prior. It was a new day and he didn't really have any plans other than to simply relax, especially because over the week he had made sure to account for his chores and tasks so he could have the day to himself.

Straightening his room, the behemoth wasted no time in dawdling or idling about. As soon as the small, stone room was tidy, Deku skipped out and into another simple but quaint room he used as a kitchen. Much like the rest of the home, the walls were clearly that of some sort of cave, rough and jagged walls majestically running up to an equally uneven ceiling. Hand made furnishings of rustic wood and occasional scrap metal were placed about in a complementary fashion. Deku cut a warm slice of bread from the loaf he had baked just the night before, grabbed a large fruit and sat down at a simple wooden table to eat. Before he could even take the first bite, something on the table right in front of him caught his eye.

Lying by his burnt out lantern on the table was a wadded up ball of feathers that looked like some tiny critter crawled in and died. Panic stricken, the behemoth boy slid his food to the side to swiftly snatch up the fallen fluff ball to inspect it.

Tenderly taking the limp form in his hands, he began running careful fingers across its small and delicate body, trying to figure out what it was and just how bad of condition it was in. Now that he had the motionless thing spread in his hands, he was able to see that it was a minuscule person; a tiny lady with birdlike feet and purplish raven wings jutting from between her shoulder blades and similar tail feathers pluming from her lower back and under her shirt. Countless scrapes, cuts, and bruises adorned her skin, some fairly fresh, others faded into scars.

The greenete looked at the little angel with pity, poor thing looked like it had been to hell and back. Was it even still alive?? He wondered to himself as he turned the unconscious bird in his hands one last time. He could have sworn her eyes tiredly rolled open for a split second, but they were closed again before he could check. One thing was for sure, he should find out before he jumped to any other conclusions. Deku then tentatively held her up to his ear where he tried to listen for some sort of heartbeat or possible breathing. Still unable to hear anything, he gently pressed her up against himself, making a soft thumping audible.

The giant let out a relieved sigh as he set the little woman down back on the table. He wasn't sure when she'd wake up, but until she did he'd be patient and ready to tend to her should she need anything. And with that, he quickly finished his breakfast, setting aside a chunk of bread and a piece of fruit, for when she awoke, and placed them down nearby.

(Y/N) awoke well into the morning, she looked about, confused and disoriented, until she could recall what had happened the previous evening. Suddenly remembering, her eyes opened a little more and she quickly sat up.

Looking around, she quickly came to realize that the cave was far bigger than she had initially thought and that the floor did seem to be made of wood, though much of the place's structure and makeup lacked any sense to her.

Shaking the sleep from her still tired body, (Y/N) stretched and rubbed her eyes before she noticed the food beside her. "Woah!" She startled, not entirely sure she remembered it being there the night before. Carefully, she sniffed it, still slightly hesitant on what to do about it. The bread was easily as big as her head, and the fruit slice was definitely her height at least, if not, then taller. It looked as if it had been intentionally placed there, for her, and given that she had not had a good meal in far too long, the tempting offer was more than she could resist. Scooting closer, the Phoenix-kind ripped off a piece of the bread and tasted it. YUM!! Her eyes widened as the fluffy still warm dough met her tongue, and she swiftly took to scarfing the rest of it down.

After eating as much as she could without popping, the harpy girl lied back down satisfied as she allowed the food to settle. Looking up at the rough, stone ceiling, she studied it, eventually leading her to slowly prop herself up on her elbows, still looking about at the strange cavity. Come to think of it, the place looked kinda like a house- but- Ten times bigger... Wait-

(Y/N) pushed herself into a standing position. Looking around more, she rubbed her eyes. 'Was she dreaming?! It really did look as if she were standing in a gigantic house!!' More intrigued now than before, the Phoenix-born ran to the table's edge, scanning the room intently. If this was a giant house then surely its owner was of equal proportions. Then she saw him.

Sitting across the enormous room at a simple desk was the giant. He was easily 45-50ft tall, about 1371.6-1524cm tall if she had to guess. Surprisingly enough he actually looked to be about her age with soft, kind features, large green eyes, and matching curly hair. He sat hunched over a leather-bound journal and a number of large books.

Opening up her glimmering wings she took to the air before darting to a high shelf just above the desk where she dove behind a towering potted plant. She sat there for a brief moment, trying to calm her racing heart before peeking out and down at the behemoth. He didn't seem phased!! Whatever he was doing, he was into it! Cautiously once more, she fluttered down to the desk where she perched on a stack of closed books.

Still no response.

Whatever the green haired goliath was invested in doing must have been interesting, only furthering young (Y/N)'s desire to know. So, carefully, she climbed down the numerous volumes before dropping onto the smooth spruce. Then, with slow and sure steps, the winged youth crept forward till the tips of her toes brushed the thick leaves of the journal he sketched and wrote in. By some miracle it seemed he still didn't notice her, though it honestly didn't surprise her given that his nose was practically pressed to the paper, his thick pine green brows furrowed in his concentration.

(Y/N) began craning her neck to try and glimpse at what exactly he was doing, though she couldn't quite make out the difference between one thick pencil stroke and another. Not satisfied with this, she inched around his moving arms and hands. Once or twice he'd glance away from the book to study a page from another, causing the girl's heart to stop. Regardless, he never noticed her and would soon return his intense gaze to his work.

With a few chary steps she soon had her back to his stomach. His bent over form towered above her, quite literally as he moved and shifted, messing around with the items in front of him, still painfully oblivious to the little visitor who was now doing a study of her own, observing the illegible notes he had written. Though what really attracted her attention was the pictures that were drawn. decorating the parchment were countless and various sketches of her.

"Woah.." She let the appraised whisper slip from her mouth. Why were there so many drawings of her!? They were so good!! And what did the writing beside it say!? Wait- It was then that (Y/N) noticed that the enormous hands to the sides of her had stopped working and scribbling about, held motionlessly to the page. Her heart skipped a beat as she whirled to glance up before it stumbled and plummeted. Staring up, her eyes met with an equally wide but far larger pair, gazing back down with something that was nothing short of astonishment; a look she knew too well.

Quickly the boy realized he had better say something or risk her running off before cheering in a language she didn't understand, though his joyful tone and warm smile otherwise implied he meant no harm. "H-Huh??" The phoenix-born asked, flinching as he began to slowly move. The giant sat back and against the back of his chair, giving the small angel some room before trying another incomprehensible phrase that sounded like another language. Still unable to make out what he wanted she cocked her head though she didn't ease up at all, wings quivering as if ready to launch her through the air.

Furrowing his brows, Deku tried another... and another, and another and another. He seemed to be filtering through languages until he spoke one she was able to understand. "Do you speak Flackofain??" He inquired, finally finding something she could comprehend. It wasn't her native tongue, but it was one she was fluid in.

Flackofa were a type of friendly and sociable bird folk that lived nomadic and merchant lives, exploring the under sky and selling its goods to other winged beings above the clouds. They often set up their shops on tall mountain caps that broke the ocean of mist separating the two. Once or twice she had even managed to sneak away and attend some of their bazaars and auctions.

(Y/N) perked up immediately upon hearing a language she could understand. "Yeah!! I do!!" She chirped, straightening herself. "How did you learn it!?!" She inquired now immensely curious as to how he knew. The giant was equally pleased with his accomplishment, bringing his fists in excited little balls up to his chest. "I know them!! I actually trade with the Flackofa a lot, I'm very good friend's with their chief and many of their people!! One named Kacchan doesn't like me much though..." He laughed at his added comment. "Really!? That's amazing!! What are you anyway!?" The winged youth inquired, earning another warm snicker from her new companion. "I'm a behemoth!!" "Behemoth??" "We're better known as giants..." He scratched his neck, "Sorry I use a lot of big words..." Deku added his apology. "It's ok!! I don't mind!!" the girl giggled.

"What about you!? You don't look like any angel or harpy I've seen..." He commented, to which she enthusiastically answered, "I'm a phoenix-born!!" This response quickly got the giant excited, "WAIT FOR REAL!? A REAL PHOENIX?!" He inquired eagerly, swiftly bending down to be eye level with her, hands gripping the edge of the table with equal energy. (Y/N) startled, stumbling backwards a smidge, not expecting such a dramatic reaction. "Y-yeah!! Why?"

The giant quickly sat back up and against the back of his chair again, running his hands through his shaggy, messy mop of hair. "Well, no one ever sees your kind, not after the War of Worlds!! You guys have never come below the clouds since, so I just can't believe i finally get to meet a real phoenix born!!!" He guffawed, hands still plastered to his head, pinning the fluffy green tufts back.

The girl blinked in confusion, "War?? What war??" she didn't remember anything of the sort. "The War of Worlds?? The great war of your people against the elves and dwarves??" Izuku continued, "You've never heard of it??" "N-no...?." She drew out her reply. "Somewhere around 350 years ago your people had a conflict with the elves, there are lots of different accounts of what the conflict was but one thing stays the same, things went south. The elves called upon the dwarves for assistance and after a long battle that cost your people half their population, you guys went to a group of mages known as the Everskys and asked them to conjure up some sky islands to retreat to." He explains, "You guys swore you would return one day, far far into the future and take back what the elves had supposedly stolen from you, but until then you'd lurk in the mist." he finished, giving her a look as if he expected his little history lecture to spark some sort of hidden memory in her.

(Y/N) just stared, trying to comprehend the enormous load of information she had just been hit with. As weird and foreign the idea sounded, the story actually fit well with a lot of her culture and how the under sky was forbidden. "I- I have never heard this story..." The harpy girl admitted. "Really?! Then why don't you guys come down??" "We just know that it's forbidden, supposedly filled with strange and wondrous creatures who want only to rip us to shreds." The giant looked shocked by her answer. "Then why are you down here!?" He inquired with wide, curious eyes. The winged youth's demeanor became downcast and solemn, though bitterness laced her words, "I had to get away... I couldn't stay there anymore..." She spat quietly, eyes on the table beneath her.

Deku's expression softened as he found himself pitting the little angel. "Hey, hey! It's ok now! You escaped, and you found me!! I'll help keep you safe if you like!! I promise that I won't let anything hurt you okay?? Cheer up!!" Tentatively, he reached a singular finger forward to lift her chin gently to look at him. As her gaze met his, he gave her a warm, welcoming smile.

(Y/N) could feel her face light aglow, how could she refuse, she did come down here looking for a home didn't she?? "Yeah, I'd like that!"

A request for: AnimeMemeGoddess

I am sososososososo sorry this is so late!!! I meant to have this done around early June but then I went on a family vaca, had four different relatives I haven't seen in years at my house and now I'm moving like- tomorrow, and I've had a friend who's been struggling so I've been trying to be there for him as he is getting through some tough times right now!! Not to mention I rewrote this story at least five times!! So I really hope you like it!! I put a lot of love and effort into making sure it was perfect!! ALSO THIS IS NEW, BUT I'VE STATED THAT YOU CAN NOW ASK ME TO DO SEQUELS TO PREVIOUS ONE SHOTS!!!! MEANING IF YOU REALLY LIKE A SPECIFIC SCENARIO, YOU CAN GET A PART TWO AND SO ON!!!

Up next: ( ∆ requested, Ω inspiration)

∆~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - Dynamight!? More like Firecracker!!!

∆~ Shoto x Tiny YN - Baby It's Cold Outside

∆~ Giant Shinso x YN - Forest Spirits

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - The Crown Jewel

Ω~ Tiny Deku x YN - Hickery Dickery Dock

Ω~ Bakugo x Tiny YN - Pest Control is For Pests

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - The Prize Fish

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - Baby Shark

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - The Big Bad Wolf

Ω~ Tiny Deku x YN - Peter Rabbit

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - He's A Pop-Rockin Pixie

Ω~ Tiny Kirishima x YN - Dragon, not Lizard

Ω~ Deku x Tiny YN - The Innocence of a Child

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - I Fear No Man... But That Thing.... Scares Me

Ω~ Tiny Kirishima x YN - Crossing Worlds

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - A Figment of Imagination

Ω~ Tint Deku x YN - Shoulder Angel

Ω~ Giant Bakugo x YN - GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT!!!!!!!!!

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - One Heck of a Softy

Ω~ Deku x Giant YN - A Pure Soul

Ω~ Kirishima x Giant YN - Snakes Are Very Manly, Very Manly Indeed

Ω~ Giant Deku x YN - ~Blep~

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - Red on Black, Poison Lack

Ω~ Kirishima x Tiny Y/N - Feeding the Fish

Ω~ Tiny Deku x Y/N - Tamagotchi

Ω~ Bakugo x Tiny Y/N - An Exotic Edition to the Family

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x Y/N - Monsters Among Us

Ω~ Deku x Giant Y/N - A Diamond in the Rough

Ω~ Giant Bakugo x Y/N - The Duke of Goliathoria

Ω~ Giant Bakugo x Y/N - Hidden

Ω~ Giant Deku x Y/N - Gulliver's Travels

Ω~ Kirishima x Giant Y/N - Turned Tides

Let me know if you guys want some of these sooner than others, I will count it as a request and add it to queue, right now they are in the order of request to inspiration. Requests willl come before inspiration.

This is my art and story, please do not repost or trace without my permission, feel free to reblog though, thanks!!!

46 notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 4 years ago

Text

Crossfire | KTH

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 7.1k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: violence, swearing, blood, injury (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: it begins! I already have the whole thing written so I can promise my updates to be regular! Also big thanks to @baojinnie for helping me find my feet on tumblr - go check out her amazing writing too!

The front door slammed open so hard it hit the wall, the thud reverberating around the otherwise silent apartment. In your bedroom, your head whipped around, a frown already decorating your face. You were sure your dad was already home.

Before you could even stand from you chair, footsteps were filling the air. Men were shouting.

Eyes widening, you shot up, hearing heavy steps running down the hallway at the other end of your apartment. And not just one pair. Judging by the shouts as well, there was a crowd of people swarming your apartment.

When a sickening crash sounded from somewhere, you were shaken from your frozen state. Without hesitation, you threw open your wardrobe door and dived inside, pressing against the wall, but in your haste you pulled the door shut behind you with too much force. You winced, waiting for it to crash too loudly and alert whoever was in your house of your presence, but it never came.

It was drowned out by a gunshot.

Instantly, your already pounding heart jumped to your throat. Your teeth clamped down onto your bottom lip as if that would help muffle your erratic breathing and the rush of blood through your ears.

What the hell.

Outside, the yelling had not ceased, but suddenly it became even louder. They were getting closer.

“NO!”

Your hands balled into fists as your dad’s voice suddenly broke through the other shouts, followed immediately by another thud. You winced, fighting the urge to open the door you were hiding behind, knowing it would be best if they never found you.

“Shit,” you hissed suddenly. You had left the light on in your room. You could only pray whoever was out there would overlook it.

But of course you could never be so lucky.

The characteristic sound of your door clicking open made you stiffen against the side of your wardrobe. Barely daring to breathe, you heard someone enter, wasting no time in loudly pulling out your drawers before moving onto your desk, where it sounded like they were tossing items onto the floor.

Then you truly felt your heart stop, the way it would in the moment between tripping and hitting the ground, as you heard the loud steps coming closer. You screwed your eyes shut as if it would turn you invisible. You were trapped.

Light flooded your eyelids before they flew open again, revealing a man clad in black. For a split second, he stared and you stared back, before he was lunging towards you.

At the same moment, you leapt forwards, pushing open the other wardrobe door and sending you stumbling out into your trashed bedroom. You spun around to find the intruder running towards you again. Instinctively, you raised your arms in defence just as he crashed into you, but you were too late noticing the glint of metal in his hand to throw yourself out of the way. Your body twisted in vain, and then you were being pushed back, foot catching your beside stand and sending both of you to the floor along with the table.

Scrambling away, your eyes fell on your fallen lamp which you lunged to grab, lifting it at the same time your assailant got to his feet. Your body was practically running by itself as you lifted the lamp and swung it down, striking the guy’s head, hard.

Struggling to get your breathing in check, you let the lamp drop to the floor as you stared at the man who slumped, unconscious, to the carpet. His sweater had been rumpled in the fight, and you could make out a symbol inked just under his collarbone.

Slowly, your eyes found their way to the knife that lay limp in his hand, and the blood coating it. You hadn’t even registered being stabbed, only now feeling an aching numbness seep into your side.

“Down there!”

Your gaze was snapped from the scene at the shout from down the hall.

There were others.

All you could think of was to leave. Now. Wheeling around, you threw open the curtains on your window and then the window itself. You had always fancied that you would be able to make the jump from your window to the fire escape that ran down your block. Now you weren’t so sure as you stared out into the darkness towards the metal staircase, slick with drizzle.

But then your ears tuned back in to the heavy boots coming your way down the hall, and you were already on the ledge, and you knew you had no choice. You swallowed, refusing to look down, and jumped.

In a blur, your chest had slammed against the metal and your arms were clinging on to the exterior of the railing, feet falling over each other to gain traction. The panicked flurry paid off, your arms wrapped around the top railing letting you hoist yourself over, and then you were running.

Again, you heard a door slamming hard into a wall, but now it was coming from the room you had just left behind. Ignoring the pain which had flared in your side when you jumped, you pushed yourself, flying around each corner as you spiralled downwards.

Thanks to your increasingly heavy breathing, you almost didn’t hear the words sounding from your window, by now a couple of floors above you. When you did, you slowed, falling into the shadows of the fire escape, as near to the wall as you could get. It was definitely some of the men you had heard yelling earlier.

“What the hell happened in here?”

“Do you think he found it?”

“Doesn’t look like it. I’m guessing she must have been in here.”

A pause.

“Check the fire escape.”

The voice was louder this time, presumably at the window, which of course was still open.

Once again, you were short on options. But you were down to the more expensive apartments now, and they had balconies, and there was one right beside the escape stairs. You shuffled to the railing on tiptoes and pushed your leg over the top, hopping over onto the balcony. Silently, you lowered yourself to crouch behind a sofa that was pushed close to the brick wall, subconsciously raising your hand to press against your side as you waited.

“Woah! Don’t push me!”

“Just get your head out and look!”

The voices were raised even more now. You chanced a look up, and from your very poor vantage point you could see a large shape blocking the light from your window.

“I swear there’s no one here. Maybe she fell, that’s one hell of a jump to make.”

Not willing to push your luck, you dipped your head again, hopefully out of sight in the dark.

“Well if there’s a body down there on our way out, I guess we’ll have your answer,” came a more muffled voice, making you strain to hear, “or she could be long gone already, but we have her friends’ addresses, so she can’t hide. Now let’s not leave Shinhyuk waiting.”

A grunt came in response and you heard fumbling steps followed by the slamming of your window.

You counted to ten.

Then did it again.

Then once more, but you lost count this time.

We have her friends’ addresses…

Shakily, you got to your feet, taking another precautionary glance back up towards your apartment.

And then you were moving again - over the railing and onto the fire escape, feet pounding beneath you as if running could take you away from all the questions that so suddenly needed answering after what you expected to be a normal night had exploded into pieces. But where could you go?

Before you knew it, you had hurtled out of the bottom of the fire escape into the street, but sprinted towards a nearby alley, where you would be out of sight. You slowed to a jog as you entered, mind spinning, rejecting every option as soon as it arose. They had your friends’ addresses, but your only family in the city was your dad, who was…

Up there.

Your stomach churned and you let yourself stop, leaning against the wall in the deserted alleyway. Your breaths fell short and heavy, side still aching as you pressed your hand into it, dimly aware of a warmth leaking onto your fingers.

Where could you go?

Your mind was whirling through everywhere you knew in the city, eyes occupied with scanning up and down the alley in case a black-clothed figure emerged. Knowing one could at any time, you let your feet start up again at the first destination that entered your mind, thought barely half-formed before you were off again.

Careful to stay on smaller streets and in the shadows, you barely registered your growing tunnel-vision as you sprinted to the nicer end of town.

Your lungs were burning by the time you arrived, but you were there and you ran up the steps, fist pounding on the door and not letting up despite the gnawing fear that he wouldn’t be in.

Taehyung threw the door open, knowing only a handful of people who could be knocking in such a manner at this time of night. But he was met with none of those possibilities.

He stared down at you, black hair falling into his wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

“Please can I come in?” you breathed before he could form any words, quickly taking a look over your shoulder.

You were shocked when you looked back to see him already standing aside, holding the door open. Hurriedly, you stepped inside and he shut the door, leaving the two of you facing each other, backs against either wall in his small corridor.

His wide eyes still hadn’t left your face, unsurprisingly shocked at your sudden appearance. You had only spoken to him precisely four times before when you had a college project together last year. Which is also why you had been to his house, precisely once before.

You looked down to your feet, hair falling by your face as you tried to reign in your breathing.

“Y/N, what-“

“I’m sorry, I don’t have to stay, I didn’t know where else, I mean, you were the first person I could think of-“

“Hey, hey,” his low voice cut in, and you found his hands were gripping your shoulders. He ducked his head to catch your eyes and you found yourself at a loss for words. “What’s going on?”

“I… I don’t, some people, I don’t know who they were-“

“Fuck!” he cut you off.

You stared at him again, and found that his gaze had finally drifted. Looking down, you saw what he must be staring at: your hand, clutched to your side and covered in red as blood leaked between your fingers.

Now your eyes were on it, you couldn’t seem to tear them away, even when Taehyung’s arm was over your shoulders, tugging you with him into the front room. Absently, you looked over to see if the curtain was shut, something Taehyung didn’t miss as he moved in front of you again. He followed your gaze, but his attention was quickly back on you.

“Stay here,” he commanded.

You looked back to him dumbly and nodded.

As he took off running towards his kitchen around the corner, you stared after him, wondering why his voice had echoed after he had spoken.

You tried to turn around to look at his living room, though it was much the same as it had been last time. However, you found your feet were sluggish, legs tired from running. Now was the first time you were able to catch your breath since that man had found your hiding place, but you didn’t feel any better for it. You had a growing headache, and what felt like pins and needles pricking all over your legs.

Reminding yourself you only had to wait for Taehyung to return, you took a deep breath. You were safe now. Those people couldn’t have the address of someone you had interacted with for a week months ago.

Slowly, you blinked, but when you opened your eyes patterns were dancing there. Frowning, you blinked again, but this time your eyes did not open.

Taehyung had rushed straight to a small cupboard tucked into the corner of his kitchen, dropping harshly to his knees as he grabbed the medical bag he kept there. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, he had dealt with this kind of situation before with the boys. But this, this was different. He had no idea what had happened, but he had a college acquaintance bleeding in his front room, so he wasted no time reaching to the back to grab bandages before pulling himself to his feet again and heading back. On his way, he scooped up a couple of tea towels.

But as he rounded the corner, he froze. Taking in the new sight took him a split second before he was running to your side again, where you were lying on the floor.

His hands were promptly pushing you onto your back, moving your arms away from the stab wound. Blood had stained your hoodie beyond repair, so he pushed it up, grabbing one of the tea towels instead, bunching it up and pressing it into the wound with as much weight as he dared.

“Y/N? Y/N, come on.” He muttered, glancing towards your face, where your eyes still lay closed.

He bit his lip, eyes darting between the wound and your face. Swapping to press his right hand on the wound, he pushed his left through his hair and huffed out a breath. Observing your face closer, he thought you looked pale, and noticed a slight sheen of sweat.

Conscious to keep pressure on the wound, he leaned forwards while reaching his hand out and rested it on your forehead. Not too cold. He let out a breath as he brought his hand down to your cheek.

“Y/N,” he said, more insistent this time.

After a couple of seconds, your eyes opened and he smiled down at you. You took him in, kneeling beside you with his hand cupping your face, not seeing the cause for such a brilliant grin given your current predicament.

Soon though, his eyes were diverted again, grin fading as he looked away, reaching for your hand. He took it and placed it under his over the cloth on your side, helping you to push down.

“Keep pressing down,” he instructed, and you did. Suddenly he pushed himself up to crouch, and he was bending down, sliding his arms under your back and legs.

“Come on,” he grunted slightly as he lifted you.

“Wait, what are you-?”

“Pressure.” He firmly reminded you, pointedly looking at your hand where it held the towel to your side. You shut your mouth and pressed down. He took you the few steps over to his sofa and lowered you down.

“I’ll get blood on your sofa,” you said, trying to protest.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he chuckled, leaning over to tug a blanket from the back of the cream-coloured seat.

“Oh my god, your carpet,” you babbled next, but again, he cut you off.

“Shut up and focus on breathing,” he told you, placing the blanket firmly over your shoulders and tucking it over them, all the while holding your gaze, “I think you’re going into shock. So just breathe, and keep pressure on your wound.”

You nodded, reassured by his unfazed manner. He continued to talk as he lifted your legs to place your feet over the arm of the couch.

“I don’t think anything important’s been hit, so we just have to worry about the bleeding,” he perched on the edge of the sofa and pushed his hand on top of yours again, this time with the blanket in between them. “You’ll be okay. If we can get you to a hospital-“

“No.”

He looked up at you, startled.

“Sorry?”

“I don’t think I can go to hospital.”

For a moment, he simply stared, but then he nodded. Of course, it had crossed his mind that there would be a reason you had come to his house rather than call for real help. As far as he knew, you were a sensible girl.

“What happened?” he asked next, “don’t tell me if it will make you stressed, though,” he added.

You swallowed. He had a right to know.

“I’m not exactly sure,” you began, “I was just at home, and suddenly a load of people broke in… I tried to hide in the closet but one of them found me, and he was the one who stabbed me.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows were drawing closer and closer together with each word you said.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

“I might have knocked him out…” you replied sheepishly, “I just panicked, I swear he was trying to kill me.”

Taehyung winced at that.

“But there were more than just him?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I had to jump out the window-“

“What?” his eyebrows had shot up into his hair, mouth wide, “but you live on, like, the fifty millionth floor!”

“It’s the fourteenth, calm down Taehyung,” you rolled your eyes. He had also been to your apartment once when you were working on your project and had made it very clear that he did not appreciate the height. “I just jumped across to the fire escape.”

A silence settled itself over the two of you and you took the opportunity to breathe in and out deeply a few times. The pressure on your side remained uncomfortable, but of course it was necessary.

“Why did you come here?” Taehyung broke the silence with the most obvious question of all.

You sighed.

“I, um, heard some of them talking when I was hiding on the fire escape. I could hear them from my window. It sounded like they were… I dunno, after me? It sounds weird, I know, but one of them definitely said they knew where my friends lived, so I couldn’t go to anyone, well… obvious? I guess, so I-“

“So you came to the only gang violence expert you know the address of, with the added bonus of being basically a stranger?”

You stared at him.

“That.”

It was certainly strange to hear him admit that out loud. Taehyung had been perfectly nice to you when you were partners, but you had stayed away from him before and since for a reason. At your college, it was a well-known but unspoken fact that the bangtan boys were not to be messed with. There were seven of them, including Taehyung, and while they couldn’t exactly be termed a gang, they were involved in the city’s drugs ring, which obviously brought its fair share of trouble with it.

Most of them could only be seen lurking by the gates or down backstreets after dark. You weren’t even sure if they all went to college, or if they were meant to and just never turned up. Of course no one had ever asked.

Taehyung, however, was a slight exception, often on campus and usually with his friend Park Jimin. Sometimes they would be spotted with an older student Jung Hoseok, but those were the only bangtan boys you might have a hope of recognising.

Beside you, Taehyung shuffled so he could look closer at your wound. The movement of the towel against it made you hiss, tearing your train of thought.

Eyes darting up to you, Taehyung flashed an apologetic smile, but continued looking.

“The bleeding’s slowing,” he said, straightening up again and repositioning his hand over the towel, “I’m going to need you to stay awake for me for a bit though.”

You nodded, shooting him a grimace before your eyes began to meander. For the first time since you stumbled across the threshold, you really had the time to feel awkward about your surprise visit. Especially as you now noticed he was just in sweats and a big shirt. Presumably these were his pyjamas; certainly they were very different to his usual choice of attire.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Taehyung squeezed your hand, cocking his head to get your attention.

“Ah, just hoping I didn’t wake you up,” you shrugged.

He rewarded you with a breathy laugh before shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it! Though it is very nice of you to be concerned, I think you have bigger issues to think about.”

“That is true. And I meant it, I don’t have to stay. But thank you for all this-“

“We can sort it all later. I just want to talk to you, make sure you’re awake and okay, yeah?”

“Sure,” you agreed. Exactly like he said, the two of you stayed talking for what you assumed to be half an hour or more, about the classes you shared, your current project partners, and somehow ended up with him dishing dirt on your friend’s new boyfriend. Clearly his intention of keeping you awake had succeeded. He was satisfied enough to allow you to drift off eventually when it became clear you were sleepy rather than dying. It was the middle of the night, after all.

A twinge in your neck was the first thing you were aware of. Squeezing your eyes, though they were already shut, you felt a stinging dryness in them. Suddenly a burning ache bloomed in your side, making you groan.

Your attempt to move your arms to grip where the pain was revealed to you that you were buried tightly under blankets. At the same moment you felt coarse fabric underneath you and an uncomfortable sticky coating on your hands.

Gradually, memories returned to you, and once your eyelids lifted sluggishly and revealed a vaguely familiar living room they became impossible to deny. You had hoped it was all a crazily realistic nightmare. Despite the pain you felt in your side, in your head and now in your eyes as you were faced with natural light, you didn’t move. Instead, you let your eyes slide closed again, trying to take a breath and calm down.

“Hey. You awake?”

“Yeah-“ a croak came out instead of your voice. Coughing to try and rectify it only highlighted the burning in your throat, making you wince.

That was when Taehyung entered your line of sight at last, holding out a cup of water.

In a very ungraceful manner, you fought off the blanket on top of you and sat up to take it in your still bloody hands, hastily sipping some and feeling it soothe your throat. After a few more mouthfuls, you brought the glass away from your lips and looked up at your host. He was watching with wide eyes under furrowed brows. Your eyes darted to the window. The curtain was still drawn.

“What time is it?” you asked.

“It’s, uh,” Taehyung pulled a phone from his back pocket and tilted his head to look at it, “nearly midday.”

Blinking at him, you nodded, eyes wandering over to the closed curtains again, though they let most of the light through. As you looked across the room you could also see the stain you had caused on his carpet, a cloth and a bottle of some cleaning fluid sat next to it which had clearly been defeated.

“You aren’t at college.”

For some reason that was the first thing out of your mouth.

“It’s Sunday.” Taehyung’s reply made you feel all the more stupid. To your relief he moved on after only a slight pause.

“How are you feeling?”

He had yet to approach you, still standing a couple of paces away with his hands dug into the pockets of his black jeans. Taking in his clearly damp hair, still dripping a little onto his t shirt, made you realise just how tired and unclean you felt. You would kill for a shower.

“Like shit,” you chuckled, eyes falling back on the cup clasped in your hands.

“Figures,” Taehyung said, looking down at the blood on his carpet. You could only grimace.

For a moment he didn’t look back up at you, but then he sucked in a breath and raised his eyes to look at you from beneath his curls.

“Listen,” he started, “I was wondering if you… what you said about what happened to you last night, can you remember anything else?”

You found yourself unable to look away from his gaze.

“Why?”

“I just, well-“ he huffed then, breaking eye contact and looking to the side, speaking slowly and deliberately, “I’m wondering if it is what I think it is. It doesn’t exactly sound like those people were in your place by accident.”

That was definitely true. But you couldn’t wrap your head around what he was getting at. You scrunched up your face, trying to recall any more details.

“Any names?” you realised Taehyung was looking at you again as he finally stepped forwards, crouching to sit on the coffee table facing you, “Could you describe any of them?”

“I think, maybe…” you chewed your lip for a moment more, “I only saw the one of them, and he was wearing all black, hood up and everything so I didn’t see much. He was a little taller than me, and I might recognise his face but I was a bit more preoccupied with the knife… He was definitely looking for something though.”

Across from you, Taehyung gave a slight nod, looking to his lap and you couldn’t help feeling like you had disappointed him a little. Then something struck you.

“Wait! I got a look at him when he was knocked out too, and he had some symbol, a tattoo, just below his collarbone,” you were startled when Taehyung’s head suddenly snapped up again, eyes staring fiercely into yours.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, like a sort of star,” you assured him, though your eyebrows were drawing closer together in a questioning look. “You’re freaking me out, what’s going on-“

“Is there anything else you can remember?” He pressed, shifting closer so he could put his hands on your knees.

“I heard two others talking when I was outside, they might have… yeah, they did mention a name actually! What was it…” Taehyung’s eyes were darting across your face as you mouthed sounds, trying to recall exactly what the name had been.

“Shinhyuk.”

As you looked up, Taehyung met your eyes with an unreadable expression. Holding your breath, you waited for him to say something. He still hadn’t moved away from you and both his close proximity and the seriousness with which he was acting was unnerving to say the least. It was certainly different to how friendly he had been with you before.

“Please don’t hide anything from me,” he said, at last pushing away from you and settling back on the coffee table, “I need to know if you’ve been involved with anything… shady. Of all people, I won’t judge you, but… buying any drugs or something?”

“No!” you sat up a little straighter, “please will you tell me what all this is about?”

Taehyung chewed on his lip as he looked at you, giving off the air of someone young for the first time since he began his questions. The college student he is rather than your interrogator.

“I just want to know who you’ve been involved with to make someone like Shinhyuk come after you.”

“Someone like Shinhyuk?” you questioned.

“Yes. He’s not someone you want to be associated with, but being his enemy is worse. Me and the boys have… let’s just say, we’ve encountered him and his lot before. Proper organised, underground, crime. Completely ruthless. After you fell asleep last night I got time to actually think about what you said and I was worried it was him – those kinds of break-ins are just his style. He likes to scare people. Show off his fearlessness.”

Eyes flicking back to you, Taehyung registered your response as you sat still, taking in this information as best you could. You felt totally numb. This was crazy, all of it was absolutely insane.

“But he only attacks when he has a reason to.”

Groaning, you let your head fall into your hands.

“Listen, I am so sorry. Sorry for coming here, and making a mess, and dragging you into this. I get what you’re trying to say and I don’t want to bring you trouble or anything,” As you spoke you pushed the blanket further off you, gripping the arm of the sofa to pull yourself up while trying to ignore the headrush it gave you, “so thank you, but I guess I should probably get out of your way…”

It was only when strong hands grabbed your upper arms and forced you to stop that you looked up.

“Woah, Y/N slow down, where are you going?”

You merely stood, shuffling your feet and trying to dodge Taehyung’s gaze. Unsuccessfully. His eyes bored into you for a moment before his shoulders dropped and he spoke again.

“God I’m sorry, I was just worried about getting involved if you were one of Shinhyuk’s… But you’ve still been stabbed. Don’t pass out on me, okay, just sit down and I can get you some food. Shit, I can’t believe I haven’t even given you any food…”

Allowing him to push you back down onto the sofa, you watched as he headed off to the kitchen, only after hovering uncertainly for a moment first.

Just as it had been when you were last here, the kitchen was only around the corner from the sofa you were on now, the room being open plan, and so you could easily hear Taehyung rooting through the cupboards. Plates clinked together and a packet of something was crinkling. Just thinking about food had your stomach gurgling. How long ago had you last eaten?

In an effort to stop the rumbling, you reached for your water again and were reminded of the state of your hands. Taking a deep breath first this time, you lifted yourself from the couch.

“Y/N? Is-“ Taehyung raised his voice in the kitchen, but whipped around as he heard your footsteps, one arm still outstretched above his head as he got something from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” he frowned.

“Can I wash my hands?” you asked quietly.

His eyes fell to your hands, coated in congealed blood and quickly agreed.

As you watched the dark liquid swirl down the sink, marbling with the clear water, your mind was still replaying all that Taehyung had told you today.

“Hey, is- is ramen alright?”

You blinked, noticing that the water running down the drain was completely clear now. Hurriedly shutting off the tap, you turned to Taehyung, who was holding a packet in one hand and a pan in the other.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.”

Luckily he noticed you glancing around the kitchen, hands dripping on the tile, as he passed you a towel when he turned back from the stove. Leaning back against the side, you wiped your hands, making sure to avoid the corner that was already a little bloody, presumably from last night, though you didn’t ask.

“You know you can stay here,” Taehyung said.

“Are you sure?” you asked, “I don’t want to put you in danger. If this Shinhyuk is looking for me…”

“Who says he has to find you?” he smiled over his shoulder, “We know he won’t expect you to be with me. If you go out on your own, where are you going to stay? It’d be a lot easier to track you down.”

“I guess, but I really don’t want to force you into anything.”

“You’re not. I can see it wasn’t you that brought Shinhyuk’s gang down on you, so I have no problem in helping you.”

“What could it have been then?” you leant your elbows down on the small island between the two of you.

Tae just stared down at the pot he was stirring for a moment as he thought.

“Family, maybe? You live with your dad, right?” he suggested.

“No, no, my dad would never,” you shook your head, “maybe it’s about whatever they were looking for.”

Taehyung just hummed, turning back around and setting down his spoon.

“You look kind of pale,” he informed you, “you still need a lot of rest, okay? When this is done, I’ll show you where my room is, you can eat, change your clothes and go to bed.”

“Oh! I can stay on the sofa, it’s fine,” you quickly assured him, a little flustered. Clothes did sound good however, given your hoodie was currently drenched in blood and weighing you down. Not to mention it shared your stab wound.

“But I should probably open my curtains at some point, right? And the main street is right outside,” Taehyung came straight back.

“Ah. Yes. Okay.”

He gave you a smirk before turning his back again.

Just as you were about to thank your lucky stars that he would miss your reddening face, he whirled back around again.

“Wait, you don’t have your phone, do you?”

“Uh, no,” you hurriedly checked your pockets, understanding immediately. If you had brought it with you, you could easily be traced.

“Nice,” Taehyung let out a sigh of relief before picking up the pan and heading towards you and the sink. Then he broke out into the biggest boxy smile, as if no one’s lives were on the line. “Your ramen’s ready by the way.”

By the time you had changed, then allowed Taehyung to reapply the bandage you hadn’t even been awake for him applying the first time, you were exhausted. It was more like passing out again rather than falling asleep once you were under the duvet.

Waking up was another matter.

You weren’t sure how long you had been conscious for, but the room was completely dark behind your closed eyelids. Praying that if they just stayed closed, you could drift away again proved futile. Awareness was taking you back into its jaws and it wasn’t letting go.

You weren’t sure if it would stop hurting. Unrelenting in your side, the pain seemed to have been lingering before you surfaced from sleep but was only growing with your wakefulness. An ache soon graduated to a pronounced stabbing pain in your side, refusing to be ignored.

You weren’t sure when you had started thinking. Perhaps when you were still dipping into dreams, seeing that star tattoo on someone else… If only you could wish the thoughts away, but more just kept coming. And it made sense, didn’t it?

Opening your eyes was a mistake. It made it all real.

You were really here, for the reasons Taehyung had thought. His questions were there in your mind, and now the answer had lodged in your brain, suspicion’s roots taking hold. That phone you had left behind, the new hoodie that was in the trash downstairs, the smiles and full bellies.

Your breath was shaky as you screwed your eyes shut again.

It couldn’t be true…

If only that were true.

Hot, you were too hot. And that stabbing in your side was worse now, worse than the moment you had actually been stabbed.

Before your arms had even freed you completely, your feet were leaving the stifling heat under the covers, falling over the edge of the bed and to the floor. The force of your body twisting upright brought the pain charging through you, and in a flash you were on the floor, vision only coming back the moment you made impact.

But it wasn’t the jolt of your bones against the ground that had tears running down your face.

Just because Taehyung was no stranger to sleeping on sofas didn’t mean he was a fan of it. Calls came in like any usual night, except he couldn’t get back to sleep as fast as normal afterwards. How busy his mind was given the past day’s events certainly wasn’t helping him along.

Huffing, he opened his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling. God, just let me sleep.

For maybe the hundredth time, he rolled his body without untucking his arms, scooting himself round in little hops, but the new position brought no comfort.

Simultaneously as his thoughts returned to his real bed again, a thud shuddered through the quiet house. Instantly, his head perked up. His eyes shifted towards the sound, but nothing followed.

Then he was out the door, blanket strewn behind him, forgotten on the living room floor. Halfway up the stairs, the sound of you gasping carried down to him. His room was directly across from the top of the stairs, so he piled straight in, crossing the landing in a single stride.

When he stopped at the door, taking in the sight of you pressed into the corner between his bed and wardrobe, you didn’t even look up. Quickly, his hand found its way to the light switch and the room was cast in a shock of yellowish light. This time you reacted, blinking as you startled, releasing another few tears from your eyelashes.

Before you could even notice Taehyung at the door, he was kneeling in front of you, hands moving fast to pull away the part of the duvet you had tugged down with you. Though he didn’t miss you flinching, his hands didn’t waver as he pushed the borrowed t shirt up to get to the bandages underneath. They were still white.

Chest heaving from his short panic, he raised his head to look at you.

“What the hell happened?!”

Your quivering lip was all that moved for a moment, your mouth open as you tried to form words when you had been dragged from your disoriented state with as much grace as being tossed into a lake. Now you were faced with Taehyung, your thoughts had suddenly frozen.

No words left your mouth.

“Are- are you hurt?” he asked, quietly this time. Although he could see your wound was okay, he still felt you shaking as his hands rested on the knees you had tucked to your torso. The wetness on your cheeks was also concerning him.

You just closed your mouth and shook your head.

Still sniffling, you cast your eyes down and never met his though they still looked at you, your gaze always wavering just below his. As he watched you, his hand lifted from your knee and his thumb landed on your cheek. Closing your eyes, you felt it move an inch or so, wiping away the tears in its path.

Then it juddered to a stop, and it was gone.

Heavy as they were, your eyelids took a second to open, by which time Taehyung already had his back to you. He didn’t turn to face you when he spoke, busy spreading the duvet back on the bed.

“You shouldn’t be moving around too much- you’re still healing. Anything you need, I can get it for you, but you should just go back to-“

“It was my dad.”

The words tumbled from your lips, the volume uncontrolled.

Silence followed for a beat, though Taehyung’s shoulders tensed.

Carefully, he turned around.

“What?”

“Exactly what you said,” you grit your teeth to control the waver in your voice, “earlier. I think he-“

But you couldn’t continue, your throat closing around a sob. Taehyung’s face softened. An arm was soon sliding gently around your back where he crouched beside you, helping to lift you up until you were sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Did you know about this?” his voice was low and smooth, as calming as it could be when what he was asking about had just shattered all that was left of your normal world.

“No,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to do more than that, “but I was thinking about what you asked me earlier… I wrote it off straight away, but I think you were right. My- my dad’s never been able to afford much for us. It’s why I couldn’t even move out- going to college was already enough of a stretch. I didn’t really ask when he finally bought me a new phone, I was just glad to have it. And he works so much overtime that I thought maybe he was starting to make some headway on his debts, but…”

Taehyung turned his head towards you as you trailed off. Simply staring at your lap, you looked… broken. Of course he knew money didn’t come out of nowhere, of course he knew where that money may have come from, and of course he knew it was stupid of your father to accept Shinhyuk’s deals. But you had been caught in the middle, in the fallout, and he was the only one here with you as you realised it.

His hand rested on your knee.

It was light, as if ready to spring away at any moment, but you could feel it.

“I should have realised,” you mumbled, “we never go out for dinner. And I’ve never had a problem with wearing the same clothes for a while… people don’t get paid more when they’re working less…”

When you slumped forwards, head falling into your hands, Taehyung was forced to lift his hand to avoid an elbow and now it was hovering in mid-air. His mouth fell open slightly, at a loss. But less than five seconds of you crying into your hands and he let his hand fall onto your shoulder.

Forcing himself to relax beside you, he let his arm rub up and down softly.

“Where is he now?”

Taehyung sucked his lips in soundlessly, leaving your question floating in the air. Your head hadn’t even left your hands. Perhaps you knew that if he answered, it wouldn’t be of comfort.

“You should get some rest,” he said plainly.

There wasn’t enough energy in you after this bombshell to fight his hand as it guided your shoulder to the mattress. The mattress rose slightly as Taehyung stood, and soon the light had clicked off, his hand on the door handle-

“Taehyung.”

It wasn’t a whisper exactly, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he didn’t hear you. But greeted with silence, you decided he had stopped.

“You don’t have to sleep on the sofa…”

To your relief, he didn’t laugh at you. He could spot a plea when he heard one; you hadn’t exactly been subtle, but he had no objection. The bed was double, and you didn’t want to be left alone. If he went back to the sofa, he wasn’t sure he could have slept anymore anyway.

So he turned around.

Please reblog if you enjoyed it! Comment or message me to be tagged when I update!

874 notes · View notes

poguesofthebau · 4 years ago

Text

memory breach

summary: while out in the field, you fall into the hands of the unsub. after the incident, your hospitalization hits the team a little too hard. to make matters worse, you wake up in the hospital with a foggy memory and some nasty injuries. on top of having no recollection of the attack itself, you seem to have forgotten about chunks of your life-- including spencer, your boyfriend. warnings: memory loss/amnesia, head injuries, gunshot wound, hospitalization

word count: 8.8k (the longest thing i’ve ever written) pairing: spencer reid x female!bau!reader

a/n: here comes the angst, y’all. this one was requested by @astrologics! i wound up straying away from the request a bit, but i hope you still enjoy! as usual, reader is a part of the team (because i wish i was a part of the team so it always makes writing more fun for me). i don’t think i’ve ever done serious, real angst, so this is my first time including warnings. please let me know if i missed anything that should be included and i will add it!! also lmk if anyone would be interested in some potential spin-off blurb ideas from this one! they would take place mostly during the line breaks in this fic!

he knew you could handle yourself. spencer knew that.

regardless of having that knowledge, he still hated every moment of every case that required you going out into the field. if you were with another team member, spencer had to mentally remind himself that, i trust morgan with her. i trust jj with her. i trust hotch with her. i trust emily with her. i trust rossi with her. and i trust her with them. if you were going out alone, though, his inner monologue went rampant. no matter how many mantras of trust and faith he repeated in his own head, the worry was always more dominant. the only time he found peace was when he was the one with you.

it was silly, and spencer knew that. he knew that he should be able to trust you to not get yourself hurt. but, at the same time, he knew you had the same sense of urgency that he did when it came to saving lives. it was easy for both of you to get caught up in the desperation and rush of it all, and you’d both do whatever you believed necessary to accomplish the task of saving people in danger. the only time spencer was able to contain that urge was when you were by his side. if you were there, too, your life was also on the line, which made spencer a thousand times more cautious on the field. he knew one of you had to stay level-headed and logical, and he always took the reigns of that position when it had to fall upon either him or you. being the one by your side brought him a sense of comfort, but it also increased his sense of responsibility, placing him in the role of the rationally-thinking agent.

all of that-- essentially, his constant need to know you were safe-- factored into the terror spencer felt when you went into the house alone.

the case had been quick so far. maybe it was because the murders were happening in dc, which saved the team some time when it came to getting to know the case and its locations. there was no ‘wheels up in 30′ from hotch, or two-hour flight to a different state, or time wasted asking where in a local precinct you could set up, or unfamiliar drives to crime scenes. regardless, it felt like the unsub had fallen directly into your laps when the team figured out who and where he was, and for that reason, spencer was on his toes. however, it was undeniable that he couldn’t have possibly controlled the time frame of the case, especially the portion of it that had resulted in your entering the house without backup.

you’d arrived to the house with emily. you’d been sent together to the location from which the unsub snatched his latest victim, and after a witness statement, composite sketch, and description of the unsub, garcia was able to pinpoint an address within 5 minutes. much to spencer’s dismay, you and emily had been the closest to the location. so, as the rest of the team rushed to meet you at the house, emily was just parking the suv. when you pulled up, the two of you made a joint decision to go around the back first, agreeing that it’d be the easiest and most effective point of entry. the plan came to a head when you found a barely breathing victim on the back porch.

“she’s still breathing.” emily didn’t have a chance to say anything else before you darted into the house. by yourself. she glanced undecidedly between the door you’d disappeared through and the unconscious woman on the ground. just as emily twitched to follow after you, the woman below her coughed violently, and, with no outward actions to expose her internal hesitation, emily was holstering her weapon and crouching down to try to help the victim.

three minutes passed before the rest of the team arrived. from her position on the back porch where the victim had now come to but refused to be left alone, emily felt helpless. there she was, beside a woman who had been attacked by a violent serial killer, while her teammate and friend was inside with the murderer. it was a sickening feeling for emily to know that she was partially responsible for whatever happened next, but there was a louder voice in her head-- your voice-- telling her to stay where she was, and to save the person you’d come to help. for those three minutes that you were alone, emily felt useless.

then, she heard the suvs come to a screeching halt nearby. “here!” she immediately called, hearing the sounds of rushing and scattered voices and she applied pressure to the victim’s wounds. spencer was the first one she saw, and the relief that had come with the team’s arrival quickly washed away, only to be replaced by guilt. not giving him a chance to ask the question, emily raised a hand and pointed to the door. “she went in, reid, i couldn’t stop her.”

a look of horror crossed spencer’s face as he bolted through the door, morgan and hotch following quickly behind. spencer was now sprinting through the house, gun pointed and coworkers in tow. with every room he cleared, every room he looked for you in to no avail, his movements became fueled by more and more desperation. soon enough he was bounding up the stairs, and as he reached the second floor, his ears tuned in to the sound of a struggle. he could hear punches being thrown as he ran, and your voice calling out warnings his brain couldn’t register. the first two doors he threw open exposed vacant rooms. and then, finally, he found you. you and the unsub.

the moment spencer stepped through the doorframe, he was wincing. as the door swung open, the unsub was shoving your head backward, smashing your skull into the wooden wall behind you. spencer could hear hotch and morgan barking instructions behind him, but he was stunned into silence at the sight. in those few seconds, spencer swore he could hear everything going on around the entire world. but none of it mattered, because the things he was hearing weren’t factoring into his thoughts at all. all he could focus on was what he was seeing happen to you. he didn’t hear morgan yell gun, and he didn’t hear hotch shouting reid, back up. he was still moving forward, toward you, when the two consecutive gunshots went off. he saw you collapse, hitting the ground with a thump that made him nauseous. his peripherals caught the unsub doing the same, but the thud of him hitting the ground didn’t even begin to register in spencer’s mind.

within a split second, spencer was beside you on the ground, calling your name and praying to gods he wasn’t sure he believed in that you would open your eyes and just see him. his ears were ringing at that point, but his vision was only getting sharper. he spotted the blood on the floor surrounding your head first, and then he realized that your blood was coating his hands. he turned your head, simultaneously finding the inevitable head injury and concluding that the blood on his hands had to be coming from somewhere else-- your head was in bad condition, but it wasn’t a realistic explanation for the puddle of red beneath you. “no, y/n, hey. no, no, no,” he muttered, hands hovering over you as his eyes scanned your body for a secondary injury. it didn’t take him long to find the gunshot wound in your shoulder. “no, y/n, wake up, honey. you have to wake up.” tears were streaming down his face, impairing his vision, dropping onto your face beneath him.

suddenly hotch was there, kneeling on the other side of you. spencer watched his superior put pressure on the source of the blood, and he knew he needed to do something. you were unconscious and bleeding right in front of him, and he couldn’t think of anything to do? what kind of genius was that? he needed to--

spencer’s inner monologue was interrupted before he had a chance to think of how else he should’ve been helping you. his sight was still blurred by tears, but he was able to recognize the uniformed paramedics beside him. hotch made his way around your limp body, gently grabbing spencer by the shoulders and lifting him up so the paramedics could get you onto a gurney. when he realized he was being moved away from you, spencer began to fight. he shook himself out of hotch’s grasp, moving to dive back down to your level, but being intercepted by morgan’s bicep reaching out and taking hold of him. “let me go! let me go, morgan! i have to-- i have to--”

“hey, kid, hey,” morgan was calling out, shaking spencer to get his attention. spencer’s eyes flickered quickly to the man once before settling back onto you. he was still crying, something he’d forgotten about until he watched you being lifted onto the gurney. “i know you gotta stay with her, reid. just stop for one second. look at me. reid.” his last word was gentler than the others, almost pleading with the younger man. with a few seconds of hesitation, spencer tore his eyes away from your tarnished body to lock eyes with morgan. the eye contact was intense. if he wasn’t so racked with worry over you, he would’ve felt exposed and uncomfortable. right then, though, he was too caught up in his thoughts of you to contemplate the way morgan was staring at him. “reid.”

spencer blinked, a few stray tears escaping as he adjusted to seeing morgan instead of you. his mouth opened and closed a few times, but he settled on shaking his head in place of trying to use his words. “i can’t-- if something happens, morgan, i--” the lump in his throat forced him to stop speaking, and he swallowed a few times before resorting to shaking his head again.

“hey, kid,” morgan said. spencer’s eyes had dropped to the ground, and it was morgan’s turn to glance back at you. the paramedics had successfully lifted you onto the gurney, and they were starting to roll you out of the room. “are you gonna be alright in that ambulance? because, i know you need it, but if you can’t handle it, man--”

spencer heard the wheels of the gurney through morgans words, and his eyes lifted back to you. “i have to go with her, morgan. i can’t not go.” morgan looked at spencer one more time, trying to find any sign of a lie in his eyes, before finally releasing him. and then spencer dashed out of the room after you, trying to mentally brace himself for whatever would come next.

the ambulance ride had been torture. and then came the waiting around at the hospital.

as cliche as he knew it was, he had truly never loved someone as much as he loved you, and certainly never in the way he loved you. there was something indescribable about the two of you together. neither of you were ever able to put it into words, no matter how hard or how often you tried. you were something like spencer’s best friend, guardian angel, twin flame, and soulmate all rolled into one human, but there was so much more to you than being his. you were kind, and loving, and certain, and stubborn, and selfless, and so many other things. even a person as intelligent as spencer couldn’t think of all the words that existed to describe you. on multiple occasions, spencer had coined you as “everything” when someone asked what you were like, because it was the most accurate word he could come up with.

of all the things spencer had seen in his life, all the trauma and bad experiences, this had to be the worst. and it was the worst because it was you-- the last person he would ever want hurt.

“hey, reid.” once again, spencer was cut off from his own thoughts. this time, though, it was by garcia, whose voice was gentle as she approached. he glanced up from his seat in the stiff hospital chair in the hallway, spotting his friend in her bright outfit complete with a flower in her hair that would’ve irritated spencer at that moment had anyone else been wearing it. however, this was penelope, and while spencer wasn’t in the mood to chat very much, he was relieved to see she was the one who’d been sent to see him. out of everyone on the team, garcia had the highest success rate when it came to providing him any possible level of comfort. the rest of the team was piled into the hospital’s waiting room just around the corner, but spencer had talked himself into a seat significantly closer to where you were currently being operated on. the first two hours of your surgery, he sat silently in the waiting room with the team, but he convinced himself he’d go crazy if he wasn’t as close to you as possible, which had eventually landed him a spot in the corridor. he’d been there, apart from everyone else, for almost an hour. that hour seemed like nothing compared to the three you’d been in surgery.

“hi, garcia.” his voice was quiet, and penelope frowned when she realized he was still in the same mindset as the last time she saw him. realizing the woman wasn’t planning on leaving him alone, spencer cleared his throat before adding, “there’s, um-- there’s no word yet.”

penelope sighed, moving to sit in the vacant chair beside him. “i figured. but, actually, i wasn’t here for updates. i wanted to see how you were holding up, but it doesn’t really seem like you are holding up.” spencer scoffed a laugh at that. garcia unintentionally (and usually unknowingly) putting her foot in her mouth had always been one of your favorite things about her. “reid?”

he sighed then, succumbing to the weight of her stare and looking at her. “i’m scared, penelope.” his words were a whisper, and that whisper snapped penelope garcia’s heart in half. she loved reid, and she loved you, and you both deserved so much better than this. it was a frustration that truly never left her-- why did the people she loved, the best people, always have to go through the worst events?

“i know, honey,” she nodded, blinking back tears. “i’m scared too. the others told me i shouldn’t act like i’m scared in front of you, but-- well, we both know i can’t really fake a smile.” she reached over and grabbed spencer’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze and feeling the pressure being returned almost immediately after. “she’s strong, reid. so strong-- stronger than any of us. this is y/n we’re talking about. she’ll pull through. if not for the team, or for herself, she’ll pull through for you. i know she will. she has to.”

spencer looked at her, a twinge of hope in his eye at her words. sometimes, he thought no one could see you and him. it was such an intimate feeling, being in love, that he often forgot that people around him could gauge that love, too. and, knowing garcia, she was able to gauge it much better than most others. spencer’s lips stretched into the slightest smile at the thought, but before he could answer, his attention was grabbed by the sound of footsteps approaching. he raised his eyes to see who would turn the corner, only to find jj, morgan, hotch, rossi, and emily. confusion rushed over spencer, and the anxiety in his stomach that had been subdued by his conversation with penelope came flooding back. “what is it?”

morgan smiled comfortingly. “we came to see what was taking garcia so long with the snack delivery.”

“oh!” garcia reached into her pocket with the hand that wasn’t in reid’s, pulling out a packet of vending machine cookies. with a smile, she handed them over to spencer. “i almost forgot.”

“i wanted to come alone,” jj interjected lightheartedly. “but then we got into an argument about who to send, so here we all are.”

the next to jump in was hotch. “how are you?” the simple question seemed to jar spencer, slowing down the rest of the chatter swirling around the group of agents.

spencer couldn’t find the words to answer, and he soon felt garcia squeezing his hand again. his eyes met hers and he smiled sadly, eyes then panning around to see the faces of his friends. the last person his sights landed on was emily, who looked like some combination of a kicked puppy, a guilty teenager, and a remorseful child. the expression on her face only hurt spencer more, and he made a quick decision upon seeing it. swiftly, he stood from his seat and let garcia’s hand slide out of his. not losing eye contact with emily, he took two steps toward her before engulfing her in his arms. for a second, she was stunned. in all honesty, she expected spencer to be mad at her. mad for leaving you, mad for not following the rules, mad for anything. and she wouldn’t have blamed him. but here he was, holding her in his arms like she was the one who had been hurt. a second later, she hugged him back, burying her head in his shoulder and letting the tears fall through a whispered, “i’m so sorry.”

ignoring the tears that were falling from his own eyes, spencer rubbed emily’s back reassuringly and muttered back, “it’s not your fault, emily.”

as the two agents released each other from the embrace, the operating room doors swung open. “y/n y/l/n?”

“yes, that’s me-- that’s us,” spencer immediately confirmed. his heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt like his breathing had completely halted. “is she-- is she--”

“she’s okay,” the man said with a faint smile. the entire team physically deflated before the man, a rush of relief flowing through all of them. before the doctor could give any more details, penelope was enveloping emily in another hug, and morgan was wrapping an arm around spencer’s shoulders with a beaming smile. spencer, however, was still looking expectantly to the man in scrubs, eyes wide as he waited for the rest of the news. “we were able to dislodge the bullet from her shoulder, and the gunshot wound is all stitched up and ready to heal.”

“what about the head injury?” spencer couldn’t handle the suspense. in fact, he was growing a little impatient with the doctor, and that impatience was quickly morphing into anger. he needed answers-- he needed to know if you were truly okay.

“there have been some complications with the head injury.” and, just like that, the rest of the team was holding their breaths with spencer. “she had a skull fracture and a severe concussion. she’ll have some visual impairments when she first wakes up-- trouble seeing at first, which should decrease to light sensitivity and some general blurriness. i know you’re all used to seeing her very mobile, but she’ll have lots of muscle weakness when she comes to. she’s going to be fragile.”

“is that everything?” hotch’s voice sounded off from the group.

“not quite,” the doctor sighed as he scanned the group and continued. “the visual impairments that i described, they’ll be due to direct trauma to the occipital lobe. however, there was some damage done to other parts of the brain as well, and there’s a decent amount of swelling in her head that hasn’t gone down yet. we’re not certain, but we’re afraid that swelling may have in impact on memory.”

after a beat of silence from the whole group, rossi took initiative in speaking next. “what does that mean, an impact on memory?”

“putting it in simple terms, we’re expecting her to have a degree of amnesia when she regains consciousness. there’s no way to be certain until she’s awake again, but it is likely that she won’t be able to recall most details of the event, and that memory loss could also extend to longer-term memories.”

morgan’s arm dropped from spencer’s shoulder then, and he turned to see his younger friend’s reaction.

to put it simply, spencer looked like the world had stopped spinning. “you’re-- so you’re saying-- she might not remember us.”

the doctor nodded morbidly. “again, we’re not completely certain. it’s possible her memory loss will be minimal, but you should all have some awareness of the possibility that she may not know you right now.”

spencer blinked a few times, feeling the world around him distort. how am i supposed to do this? how is this going to be okay? how is this really happening? his feet took him back a few steps and he dropped into the chair he’d previously stood from. his head fell into his hands, fingers raking through his hair as he tried not to lose his mind completely. a part of him was convinced that he was dreaming-- there was no way any of this was real, right?

“okay,” hotch said wistfully. as hard as this news was hitting him, too, he knew the rest of the team would need someone to take the reigns in a situation like this, and he knew he was that person. “what happens next?”

“she’ll be brought into a recovery room for the next few days-- she’s being brought over to a room as we speak. we’ll monitor her closely, and the meds that kept her out during the surgery should wear off fairly quickly, possibly within the hour. until she wakes up, one of you will be able to be in the room with her at a time, and once we can get an idea of how she’s doing, the rest of you will be welcome to see her.”

“reid,” hotch called, turning to look at him. when they locked eyes, a part of hotch’s facade shattered. his eyes softened, the hurt and fear in spencer’s eyes too powerful for even aaron hotchner to mentally omit. spencer sniffled, roughly wiping the tears from his face as he stood again. he stepped up next to hotch, nodding at him. spencer turned to face the doctor, but was quickly stopped by hotch’s hand on his shoulder. when he turned back to face his boss, hotch’s expression had changed. now, he was looking at spencer with an expression that told him he knew what he was going through. “are you sure that you’re okay to see her right now?”

“i have to be,” spencer whispered. hotch searched spencer’s eyes for another moment before finally nodding submissively and letting his agent follow the doctor through the hospital to the room where you were.

spencer had hated the ambulance ride, and he’d hated sitting in that hospital chair not knowing if you were okay, and now he hated looking at you like this. there was bruising under your eyes-- a nurse, not knowing that spencer could figure it out for himself, had explained that the bruising was due to the skull fracture and the swelling in your head-- and he could just barely see the gauze poking out from under your hospital gown, covering the stitched up gunshot wound you’d suffered. he could still make out a tinge of makeup smudged on your face, and your hair was in a tangled, disheveled mess, with more white gauze wrapped around your head. he counted twelve additional bruises and cuts that hadn’t been on your body the day before, and those were just the visible ones. he knew there had to be more, hidden underneath the hospital gown and blanket that you were tucked under. your bottom lip was split open, and the sight reminded spencer of the moment just after the unsub had bashed your head against the wall. the vision of you hitting the ground flashed across his mind, and he suddenly remembered seeing your head bounce sharply off the ground, causing you to unintentionally bite down on your own lip. spencer cringed at the memory.

his eyes flickered down to your hands. immediately, he saw the tan lines on the index and ring fingers of your right hand, and a wave of nausea hit him. on a regular day, you would have a ring from your grandmother on your index finger, and the promise ring he’d gotten you on your ring finger. playing with the rings was a nervous habit of yours, and the entire team had picked up on the tendency a few days after spencer had gifted you the promise ring. from then on, it had become an inside joke among the team-- whenever you reached for that ring, morgan or jj made a sarcastic comment about you “thinking of your husband-to-be.” it was a small difference in appearance, but the thought plagued him. spencer was overwhelmed with discomfort at the discrepancy, and his eyes darted around the room to find the bag containing your personal items. he spotted the plastic bag on the nightstand to your left, and moved to grab it. after slipping the two rings back onto their respective fingers, spencer found himself sifting aimlessly through the rest of your belongings-- your badge, the necklace and earrings you’d been wearing, and your wallet.

trying to do anything to keep his mind occupied and his focus on something other than how hurt you were in that bed beside him, spencer pulled your wallet from the bag and flipped it open. his fingers grazed the faux leather absentmindedly, and before he could toss it back into the bag, his eyes landed on the one photo you always kept on your person. he slid the picture out of its slot in your wallet, blinking back tears at the memory. as he put your wallet back down on top of the bag, the wind was slightly knocked out of him at the rush of feelings. he found himself sucking in air harder than he should’ve had to, but before he could give in to the emotions, he heard the monitor beside him start beeping faster than it had since he arrived.

for a second, spencer was frozen in place as his brain stuttered at the idea of you having woken up already. the hesitation didn’t last long before he was spinning around to face you and getting visual confirmation of his suspicion-- you were awake again.

“um, hi?”

at the sound of you voice, no matter how confused or uncertain it was at that moment, spencer found himself guffawing in relief, tears pricking at his eyes as he grinned in awe. as his eyes locked with yours for the first time since you’d left the office that morning, spencer was on cloud nine. you were there, and you were alive, and you were awake, and--

she doesn’t know who i am.

the thought struck spencer harder than your waking up had. you were awake, but you didn’t know who he was. the smile vanished from spencer’s face, and the tears that were now spilling from his eyes became ones of agony. he felt a quick and sudden flash of embarrassment, realizing that he was crying in front of someone who had no idea who he was, and he swiped the tears from his face before taking a deep breath and giving you a sad smile. “hi, y/n. uh, i’m-- i’m spencer.”

the next few seconds felt like someone had their foot on spencer’s neck. you were processing his words as you held eye contact, blinking slowly a few times. he couldn’t place the expression you wore. all he could see in it was a twinge of confusion, but that didn’t seem to be the only emotion you were feeling. spencer opened his mouth to further explain, but you beat him to speaking.

“obviously, spence.”

now it was his turn to be confused. his eyes widened at your words, and he knew his cheeks were turning red as the heat rushed to his face. “you remember me?”

you were shaking your head lightly then, fighting the urge to wince at the pain that struck the back of your skull as you moved. “how could i forget you, doctor reid? you’re my best friend.” slowly, spencer’s face morphed again. and, this time, even you knew something was wrong-- at least, something other than you being in the hospital. “did i say something?” he sighed, shaking his head morbidly as he took a step toward you. he sat down on your bed, and you finally caught a glimpse of the small piece of paper he held in his hands. it was a picture. “what’s that?”

he opened his mouth to spew out some form of an explanation, but before he could get anything out, the door to your room was swinging open.

“miss y/l/n,” the doctor was calling brightly as he entered. “nice of you to join us again. how’re you feeling?”

a little disoriented by everything going on around you-- spencer acting so different, the beeping of the monitor you were hooked up to, the doctor materializing in your room who currently seemed to know more about you than you knew about yourself-- you looked between spencer and the man in scrubs a few times before settling on the latter. “i’m-- i mean, i guess i’m okay. a little confused, i guess, and my eyes kind of hurt, but fine otherwise.”

the doctor nodded, grabbing your chart from the foot of your bed as he approached you. he took out a light, flashing it in both of your eyes a few times before pocketing it again. “your eyes are looking good-- normal movement and coloration. do you remember anything about what you were doing just before you lost consciousness?”

you thought for some time, finally realizing what was happening. there were chunks of your memory missing. “honestly, i don’t think i remember much. i can’t say what the case was, but i know we were working one.” spencer watched you from the side of your bed, seeing the gears turn in your head as you tried to recall whatever you could. “i think i was with... jj-- no. no, i was with emily, and we found the vic. she was breathing, so i went in the house and emily stayed with the girl. i know i went in. i-- i can’t remember what happened after that. i can’t-- why can’t i remember what happened after that?”

“because you found the unsub, y/n.” spencer’s voice was low, and it held a weight that told you more than his words did. you’d found the unsub, and it mustn’t have been pretty. suddenly you were aware of the dull ache radiating throughout your body, the pain exceptionally worse in your head and shoulder.

“dr. reid and the rest of your team can fill you in on the details of the case that your memory is missing a little later, but the more important matter is your injuries. you sustained a skull fracture and concussion, and you were shot in the shoulder. aside from that, you’re pretty generally banged up, but that head and shoulder are our biggest concern right now. you seem to be doing better than we were preparing for, which is amazing. some nurses will be in soon to poke at you a little more, and you’ll have to spend a few more nights here for observation, but we’re expecting a full recovery physically.”

you had a million questions flying through your head as he spoke, but when the doctor asked if he could do anything else for you, you found yourself shaking your head and dismissing him. for some reason you couldn’t pinpoint, you felt like you needed to talk to spencer before anything else-- you needed him to fill in the holes for you. there was no one else you would trust to do it. why was there no one else you would trust more than spencer? what didn’t you remember that made him the one you needed to hear all this from?

“do you want me to go get the others? everyone should still be here-- jj, emily, hotch, morgan, rossi, and garcia. they wouldn’t leave until you woke up.”

“if it’s okay, i would rather talk to you first,” you told him. he nodded, glancing back down longingly at the picture he was holding. he sighed again, and looked back at you with sad eyes. “spence, what am i missing?”

he held the photo out for you to take, and when you got your first real look at the entire photo, your heart shattered.

in the picture, spencer was standing behind you with his chin resting comfortably on top of your head. his arms were wrapped around your waist, and your hands were resting on top of his. both of you were grinning, and it was clear in the photo that you were trying to peek up at him, head tilted up toward his. when you blinked, you swore you could hear spencer laughing from behind you, or feel his arms wrapped around you, or see garcia grinning and calling out directions through giggles as she snapped the picture, or emily, jj, and morgan cheering behind the camera. you tried to grab onto the snapshot of a memory, but it was gone as quickly as it came. the frustration was clear on your face as spencer watched you analyze the image, and he felt a stab to his heart at the fact that this was harder for you than it was him. he heard you swear under your breath as your eyes skimmed the picture one last time. your eyes fluttered shut for a second as you tried to remember anything, but all you could see were those same four flashes of the same memory. you knew you should’ve been grateful that you remembered anything on your own, but all you could focus on was the idea that you had an entire relationship and all you knew of it was one picture.

“are you okay?” spencer’s gentle voice pulled you out of your own mental abyss, and you forced yourself to open your eyes and look at him.

“i’m--” you glanced down at your hands, flinching when you saw the two rings on your fingers. you remembered those rings. “i’m so sorry, spencer.”

spencer was shaking his head at that, his hand finding its way into yours and giving it a squeeze. “there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“yes, there is. i-- i went into that house by myself, and i don’t know exactly what happened when i did, but i know it landed me here, and i know i can’t remember things that are important to me, and i know how you probably feel right now, and i’m sorry for that. i shouldn’t have gone in alone. if i hadn’t gone in alone, i would remember everything about us right now, and even though i don’t remember, i know i want to, and i know i should.”

“it’s okay. y/n,” as he called your name, his hand slipped under your chin to lift your head, and with the softest touch, spencer was forcing you to look at him again. “i didn’t think you were going to remember who i was at all. it’s not perfect, but it’s best case scenario that you even know my name. we can always make more memories, okay?” stray tears slipped out of your eyes as you nodded at him.

“can i ask you some questions?” spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile at the question as he nodded. his hand slid back into yours, and you laced your fingers through his without a second thought as you spoke. “what’s today’s date?” spencer answered the question without a second’s hesitation, and you nodded slowly before speaking again. “how long have we been together? can you tell me the story?”

“of course i can.” the smile on his face was genuine then, and seeing it caused a swirl of hope and adoration in your stomach. you couldn’t remember finally getting with spencer, but you remembered how he’d made you feel before. you knew you loved him. “i loved you for so long before i finally told you. it was morgan and penelope, really. you’d told penelope that you liked me, and somehow you didn’t believe her when she told you all of the bureau already knew how i felt about you. morgan scared me into telling you how i felt-- he gave me the whole “if you don’t tell her how you feel, she’ll end up with someone else” speech one night when he knew you and i were supposed to hang out-- platonically, of course. it was six months ago, and we were supposed to go to the movies together-- i couldn’t tell you what we were supposed to see, even if you asked. you chose a movie, and i just went along with whatever you suggested because i was too scared and too lovestruck to question you. i picked you up from your apartment, and we started talking about our most recent case before that night while we drove there. when i parked, you said we couldn’t go into the theater for another ten minutes because the previews hadn’t started yet, so i took that as my cue to confess, i suppose. i rambled for a while before i got to the point, as i tend to, and we spent the next four hours talking in the theater parking lot. we missed the movie, but we agreed that it was worth missing for our first kiss after unknowingly pining over each other for a year.”

“so penelope wasn’t lying when she told me you had feelings for me, too?” spencer laughed and shook his head. “that’s good to know.”

“did you have anything else to ask?” you smiled at him, shaking your head lightly. “would it be okay if i went and got everyone else? they’re pretty worried about you.”

“i did take a bullet and get my head cracked open, so that makes sense,” you sarcastically replied. you were acting so much like yourself that spencer almost forgot the truth of your condition. if he hadn’t just recounted that story for you, he would’ve thought you had all the same memories he did. he moved to stand from your bed, but your grip on his hand tightened before he could get far. “do you mind just sending a nurse to get them? i’d like it if you stayed with me, if that’s okay.”

so spencer pressed the button by your bed to call in a nurse, giving you a few seconds of free time to wrack your brain for all the memories you could grab onto.

the next two days were essentially the same.

nurses would come into your room, ask you a few of the same questions, check a few of the same stats, change your bandages, and give you updates on your condition. spencer stayed with you, only leaving once when you sent him home to shower and get an outfit that hadn’t been pulled out of his go bag. during those three hours that spencer was gone, you’d called your doctor into your room. you hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of spencer or the team, but the fog surrounding your memories was beginning to dissipate, and you needed to know where that put you. it was hard to keep from the people you loved, but you didn’t want to get their hopes up for your mind’s full recovery if it wasn’t medically possible.

by the end of the first day you were awake, you’d remembered more than you admitted to. from the second spencer started telling the story of your first kiss, you were able to remember things he assumed were gone forever. you knew that two months into your relationship, the team finally caught on. you knew that spencer had said ‘i love you’ first, and you knew he’d said it while he was half-asleep as the two of you were curled up in his bed after a night out with the team. you knew hotch gave you both his permission to pursue a relationship while also maintaining professionalism in the field and office, and you knew that was a line you and spencer never crossed. you knew that the first time you ever wore his cardigan to work, thinking nothing of it, morgan and emily had teased you for it for the rest of the day, even assigning you a new nickname of ‘mrs. cardigan’ from then on. you knew spencer had given you a promise ring for your four month anniversary, and you vividly remembered how nervous he’d been to present the gift, and how hard you’d cried when you realized spencer was the one.

the last memory you’d recovered before sending spencer home so you could discreetly converse with your doctor was the memory of the picture. it was the first trace of your relationship you’d seen after being hospitalized, and it was the one that triggered the rest of your memories. whenever you tried to unlock the mental images of that day, you wound up recalling other events instead. after a day and a half of trying and failing miserably to remember the day that picture was taken, you made a mental decision to reveal your recovered memories to anyone around you only when you could successfully recount that day. and, finally, after all that energy you put into trying, you remembered it.

when you finally revealed to the doctor that your memories were recovering themselves with the help of your team being around, you didn’t get the reaction you were expecting. you’d braced yourself to be scolded and maybe even lectured for keeping valuable information from your doctor, but all you got was a chuckle. when he laughed, your face contorted into such profound confusion that the doctor laughed again. “i don’t mean to laugh, really. it’s a serious matter, as i’m sure you know, but it’s a bit of a comical situation, especially considering that i know your memories are coming back on their own.” your eyebrows raised at the claim, and the doctor continued with a genuine smile. “i deal with amnesia patients more often than you might think, and i’ve learned the signs. i know when my patients are progressing, and i know when they’re regressing. it’s been clear to me for a while now that you would be ready for discharge by tomorrow.”

“discharge? as in, sending me home?” the doctor nodded. “are you sure i’m ready for that? i mean, i’m starting to remember things, but how can you be sure that i’ll keep remembering?”

“from the moment you woke up, miss y/l/n, you were exceeding our expectations for recovery. based on that, i assumed your time here would be accelerated, and the changes in your physical condition have shown that you’ll be able to get closer to normal than you think you can. and, now that you’ve admitted to remembering so much, i’m even more certain of that. y/n, you’re regaining your memory. there will most likely be permanent gaps missing in your mind from the day of your incident, but everything else will come back eventually.”

“i’ll remember everything?”

“yes, you will. tomorrow you’ll be able to fill out the discharge papers and go home.” with one final smile, the doctor exited the room.

when the door clicked shut behind him, your face broke out into a grin a hundred times bigger than the smile the doctor had given you. you were going to remember.

an hour after your conversation with the doctor, spencer was walking back into your room. his bag was slung over his shoulder and he held a coffee in each hand. things almost felt normal in that moment, and you thought of the countless times he’d strolled into the bullpen just like that, loving smile on his face as he brought you your first dose of caffeine for the day. every time, he’d smooth a hand over your head in place of a kiss on the lips, and you’d gaze at him endearingly as you took a much needed gulp of the coffee. the thought of such normalcy brought a smile to your face, and spencer looked at you suspiciously. “hey, spence.”

he placed both coffees on the table beside your bed, dropping his bag on the floor as he slid into his usual seat. “hi, y/n. you seem like you’re doing better today.” you nodded at his assumption, and your enthusiasm only seemed to further confuse him. “i don’t have to be a genius to know that the odds of someone in your condition smiling like that from a hospital bed are very low. did something happen while i was gone?”

“kind of,” you eluded. patting the empty spot on your bed, you beckoned him to come closer. he moved to sit in the spot you’d directed him to, and as soon as he was settled, you were spilling a portion of the news. “i get to go home tomorrow.”

spencer’s eyes lit up at the revelation, a smile that matched your pasting itself onto his face. “y/n, that’s amazing! already? you talked to the doctor while i was gone?”

“i talked to the doctor while you were gone.” a giggle slipped past your lips at spencer’s expression. he was shaking his head at your actions, and you didn’t doubt that he was a little annoyed that he wasn’t there for the conversation. “i’m sorry, spence. i just didn’t want you to be here for it, in case it was bad news.”

“stop apologizing so much. that’s great news, y/n,” spencer insisted, brushing a stray hair from your cheek. his hand lingered on your face for a few seconds as you shared a loving look, and you leaned forward to press your mouth to his for the first time in days. spencer watched your lips close in on his, uncertain whether or not he should be kissing you right then. you’d made it clear that your feelings for him hadn’t changed, but he was still careful of his actions for a combination of reasons. one was your head injury-- spencer knew that a mishap as simple as your teeth clashing against his a little too hard could cause you an insufferable amount of pain, and he couldn’t fathom the thought of hurting you even more. on top of that, he was paranoid. despite your constantly insisting that you knew him, and you trusted him, spencer didn’t want to push your boundaries in your current state. no matter how many times he’d pressed his mouth to yours before, this situation made everything different, and all spencer wanted was for you to be as comfortable as possible. if that meant not kissing you for a few days, he would make the sacrifice. regardless of his reservations, spencer couldn’t resist but allowing you to connect your lips to his. kissing you again was a euphoric feeling for him-- he’d grown so accustomed to kissing you out of the blue, and kissing you hello, and kissing you goodbye, and the last few days had put a twist on that tendency. now, though, spencer felt like he was melting. it felt like your first kiss all over again. by the time you pulled back from him, spencer had almost convinced himself that you were sitting on his couch, or in your bed, or maybe standing in the elevator on the way up to the bullpen before your workday began. he let his brain play into the fantasy for a few seconds before he finally opened his eyes again, and the affection in your eyes almost knocked the air out of him. “i missed you.”

“i know,” you muttered, pressing your lips against his once again. “i would apologize again, but i don’t want you to yell at me.”

spencer laughed at your taunt, his thumb brushing across your skin as he replied. “you always do that. i mean, you’re always so overly-apologetic. it’s one of the things that made me start to love you-- no matter how redundant they are, your apologies are always genuine.”

you hummed in agreement, not thinking twice before you replied. “you always say that. i don’t know why you can’t just accept my apologies. everyone knows apologizing is one of my favorite pass-times.” spencer squinted at you then, his head tilting slightly at your words. you could see the question in his eyes, and you bit back a smile as you answered it without hesitation. “spence, did you really think i could forget you? forget us?”

“you remember?” instead of responding verbally, you grinned. awe was clear on spencer’s face, but no matter how surprised he was at the news, he couldn’t help but smile with you. “since when?”

“i started remembering little things as soon as i woke up. when everyone else came in, and you guys started telling me stories, it was like somebody broke open a dam full of my memories. i still don’t remember every little detail, and the doctor says i might never remember my fight with the unsub, but a new memory is coming back to me every hour now.”

relief rushed over spencer, and he hung his head as he processed everything you’d just said. you remembered, and you were going to keep remembering. you gave him a delicate nudge when he didn’t look at you, and there were tears running down his face when he finally locked eyes with you again. he took a shaky breath, and you slid your hand into his as he spoke. as soon as his mouth was opening, his eyes were dropping back down to where your hand held his, but you allowed him to speak without any further interruption. “i was so scared, y/n. i-- i watched him hit you, and shoot you, and-- i didn’t know what was going to happen. maybe it’s selfish, but all i could think of when you were in surgery was what i’d do if you didn’t make it out. i still don’t have an answer-- i don’t think i could ever recover from losing you. and then they said you wouldn’t remember us, and it felt like i’d already lost you. i thought that i did something to deserve this, or that maybe this was finally the end of the only good thing i had. i’ve never been more petrified than i was during all of this. i never thought i would love someone like i love you-- as much as i love you. and then i thought i had watched you die, and then i thought i would just be erased from your mind forever, and i--”

“spence,” you called out gingerly. “you know none of this is your fault, right? no one could’ve kept this from happening but the unsub. and either way, we beat him. we won. he tried so hard to take me from you, to take me from everyone. and guess what? i’m right here, and so are you, and he’s rotting in a cell where he belongs.”

“and that’s how it should be. except he belongs in a cell. you don’t belong in a hospital bed.”

“hey. look at me.” spencer’s eyes met yours, searching for any ounce of comfort within them. he found serenity in your eyes, and your words brought him even more peace. “i’m in a hospital bed with you. as long as you’re with me, there’s no place i’d rather be.”

finally, spencer gave in to his urges and planted his mouth on yours again. as he kissed you, spencer found peace in your words. as much as this had hurt him, and as much as it had hurt you, it hadn’t broken you. you were still together, and the love you felt for each other was still just as powerful as it had been last week. after all the panic he had been living with for the past few days, he could finally breath easy and let his focus return to you, because there was nothing more important to him. no matter how much he wanted to remain wrapped up in your lips and the tranquility they brought him, there came a time when his lungs compelled him to pull away and breathe again. when he looked at you, he didn’t doubt for a moment that the look in his eye was mirrored by yours. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more, spence.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #memory breach

625 notes · View notes

kywaslost · 4 years ago

Text

Levi Comforts Anxious Sister Reader

Warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

Requests are possibly open?? I don’t really know yet if I’m honest lol

Being the younger sister of humanity’s last hope isn’t easy. You worried constantly, whether it be what people thought of you or if your brother would make it back from the latest expedition. You were only 16 and you felt like the world was resting on your shoulders. With Lance Corporal Levi as your brother, people expected you to be just like him; cold, heartless, and an amazing warrior.

In reality, you were just another soldier. There wasn’t even anything special about you. You couldn’t turn into a titan like Eren, be quick on your feet like Mikasa, or be smart like Arwin. You were just like anyone else. You didn’t have much in common with your older brother either. You had his hair color and facial structure, but that was as far as it goes. Levi never showed his emotions whereas you could never mask your own. He knew how to lead an army and take down a titan without a second thought. Your social anxiety kept you from trying to take charge and you considered every possibility that a titan could do to kill you and that distracted you from your main goal.

There was an expedition a few weeks ago that scarred you. It wasn’t your first, but it sure made your heart stop beating. You were a part of Levi’s squad. Just because you were another soldier doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough to be with your brother. Levi would never admit it but he fought hard and well to make sure you were on his squad when you had to go out on expeditions.

There were more titans than you thought there would be. You were swarmed, alone. Three titans were closing in on you and there was no one around to help you kill them. You let out a shrill scream as one of the titans enclosed you in its grip. You panicked, trying to free your arms. You were lifted closer to the titans mouth. In a final attempt to save your life, you screamed, “Levi!” You closed your eyes, accepting defeat. In a split second, you hit the ground and the air was knocked out of you. You winced in pain as your right shoulder took most of the impact. The ground shook as the three titans hit the ground, dead.

“Y/N!” Next thing you knew you were in someone’s arms and flying through the air. You opened your eyes slowly to see your older brother looking down at you. You then closed your eyes, unconscious.

Levi cursed to himself when he felt you fall limp. “Do not close your eyes,” he screamed. “Don’t die on me!” Levi landed on one of the medical carts retreating back to HQ. Eren lay still in the center, weakly looking up at the sky above them. Arwin sat beside him and Mikasa rode her horse along the cart.

“Captain?” Eren called hoarsely.

“Arwin, help me,” Levi ordered. Arwin quickly pulled off his cloak and folded it to use as a pillow. He helped Levi lay you flat on the cart next to Eren and he started to press part of your own cloak against your head.

“She’s bleeding, Captain,” Arwin informed the man.

“How bad is it?” Levi asked as he inspected your shoulder. It was obviously dislocated and broken.

“I can’t quite tell but she has a head injury, most definitely a concussion.”

“Mikasa,” Levi called. “Give me your cloak.” The girl ripped it off and passed it to the captain. He then popped your shoulder back in place and used the cloak as a sling. Taking off his own green cover Levi layed it over you in an attempt to keep you warm.

“Is Y/N ok?” Eren asked quietly, reaching over to grab her hand.

“Don’t touch her!” Levi ordered, taking her hand instead.

That was a few weeks ago. Since then, you’ve been ordered by your brother and Erwen himself to take it easy. You were to sit out of training and for chores you were to stay with your brother and do as he told you to do. You were bummed you had to sit out but were beyond grateful that you got to spend so much time with your brother. Ever since that day, you started to panic whenever you were by yourself. Your breath would quicken and your heart rate would pick up. It never got terrible though, since someone would find you rather quickly. You didn’t bother telling anyone about this, since you thought it was just a temporary thing.

Today you were with Levi in his office. He noticed how you winced in pain whenever you moved so he ordered you to sit on the couch in his office and rest.

“But Levi--” you started to protest but he glared at you.

“That’s Captain Levi to you,” he corrected. You looked away, suddenly upset. He never ordered you to call him Captain when it was just the two of you, let alone ever glare at you like that. You heard the man sigh and felt the couch dip beside you. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He pulled your head to rest on his shoulder. “I know this is hard for you and I’m sorry I’m making things worse. I’ve just had a lot of paperwork and I know that’s no excuse.” You closed your eyes and leaned into your brother’s touch.

“It’s alright,” you said quietly. “I understand.” You shifted to get more comfortable but winced in pain. Your head was killing you. Armin was right, you did have a pretty bad concussion. Levi took notice of your pain and frowned slightly. He never was one to show his emotions. He gently lifted you off of him and laid you down on the couch.

“Where are you going?” you asked as you sat up quickly. Levi gently pushed you back down onto the couch.

“Lay down brat,” he said. Although there was no emotion showing on his face, you could see the concern in his eyes. “I’m going to go find something to help you with the pain.” Levi turned around and left the room. Your eyes widened in panic.

“But--”

“I’ll be back.” With that, your brother left. Your breath quickened and you started to panic. Ever since the day you got injured, you couldn’t stand being alone. You squeezed your eyes shut, the tension causing your head to hurt even more. Letting out a choked sob you started to shake. I can’t do this, you thought to yourself. I can’t be alone. You attempted to stand and walk, wanting to find at least someone to stay with you until Levi got back, but you were too far gone. You stumbled down to the ground as the pain in your head caused your legs to give out from beneath you. You gripped and pulled your hair with your one good hand, breath labored.

“Levi,” you gasped quietly. Tears stream down your face, leaving small streams on your cheeks and dripping from your chin. Your vision became blurry, colors being distorted and black dots appearing every now and then.

You’re all alone, just like that day.

You can never be as great as your perfect brother if you can’t even stand being alone for a few minutes.

It took you a few moments to realize that you were trying to scream despite the fact you were gasping for air.

“I found some--” You couldn’t even hear the voice of the man that had entered the room.

Levi’s heart nearly stopped beating when he saw you a mess on the floor in his office. The small bottle of pills that were in his hands clattered to the floor, rolling under a chair. The man dropped down beside you and quickly wrapped his arms around you. You let out an ear piercing scream, not knowing what was going on around you. Levi jumped back. His hands hovered over you as the man panicked on what he should do. He’s never seen you this vulnerable before, let alone packing like this. He debated yelling for help, wondering if your friends would be able to handle the situation.

This wasn’t the first time he had dealt with someone having a panic attack. With him being a leader, his soldiers always asked for his help when they were this vulnerable but he had never seen an attack this bad before. Heck, he had attacks himself but they weren’t nearly as severe as this.

“Captain, what’s--” Levi looked to the doorway to see a few cadets standing in the doorway.

“Leave,” he growled. The cadets nodded and quickly closed the door, slamming it in the process. You jumped, screaming even louder. Levi’s eyes pricked with tears as he took in your state. He started to try and talk you down since you obviously didn’t want to be touched.

“Hey princess,” he soothed as he tried to keep his voice steady and calm. It would be of no help if you heard him panicking as well. “I’m here, ok? You need to calm down.” He saw that this wasn’t working and remembered how you would never disobey an order, even if it came from your brother. “Breathe, Y/N. That’s an order.”

You heard your brother beside you. You were no longer alone. Despite hearing his order, you could not escape the prison that was your mind. You continued to gasp for air as your body trembled.

“Breathe,” Levi said again. “Slow. Take it slow. In and out.” He started to breathe loud and slow to try to get you to do it with him.

“I can’t!” you sobbed. “I can’t breathe!” Levi watched as the color drained from your face slowly and how you slowly moved to lay on the floor.

“No,” he said sternly, going to touch you before remembering that could make it all worse. “Do not pass out on me.” You were laying on your back now, still gripping your hair with one hand.

“It hurts!” you cried out. You started to feel yourself drift off due to the lack of oxygen your body was getting. “Levi.” The words barely made it past your lips as your eyes drooped closed. Levi’s eyes widened.

“No! Do not pass out!” It was too late, you were out. Your breath quickly even out as your body relaxed. Quickly, Levi placed your head in his lap. He gripped your good hand with one of his and pressed a kiss to it as his other hand ran through your hair. He wiped the remaining tears from your face. “Please,” he begged silently, “wake up Y/N.” The two of you stayed like that for several moments before your head lulled to the side and a quiet groan left your lips. Levi smiled softly, bending down to kiss your head.

“Hey sis,” he whispered as he moved the hair from your forehead. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.” You slowly opened your eyes, looking around the room. Your eyes connected with his and it took you a second to process who you were looking at.

“It’s alright,” Levi cooed softly. “You need a moment for your head to kick back into the right gear, and that’s alright.” You attempted to sit up but Levi pulled you back down into his lap. He tapped your nose gently with his pointer finger. “What are you doing brat? You are in no condition to be moving around.”

“Levi?” you whispered slowly. He gave you a small smile.

“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s me.” You sighed softly, leaning into Levi’s leg. The two of you sat like that with Levi staring down at you, afraid to take his eyes off of you.

“Bubby?” you muttered, looking up at his worried gaze. Levi’s eyes softened. You only ever called him that when you were upset or something was wrong.

“What is it baby?” Words were the only way Levi knew how to provide comfort and even then he still couldn’t do it well.

“Can we move to the couch?” Nodding slightly, Levi picked you up and laid you down on the couch. He sat down near your head as you sat up and leaned against his shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t know you struggled with attacks like that.” You let out a shaky breath and buried your face in Levi’s arm. “It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it but I would greatly appreciate it if you told me.”

“Please don’t leave,” you muttered silently. Levi pulled you onto his lap and hugged you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered in your hair. “I promise.”

Without looking up to meet your brother’s eyes, you started to explain, “Ever since that expedition I can’t stand being alone. I can’t breathe very well and speaking is hard.” Levi’s eyes widened in realization. “I’m guessing it was because I was alone when the titan attacked.” If it were even possible, Levi held you tighter.

“Has this happened before?” he whispered. You simply shrugged.

“Yeah, but it’s never gotten this bad. I usually can’t breathe very well for a minute or two before someone comes back. Then I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry,” Levi said with tears in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think that much of it,” you responded.

“Come to me the next time this happens, ok?” Levi commanded. “That’s an order.” You give a small giggle.

“Yes, sir.”

“Does your head still hurt?” you nodded as your brother slowly set you on the couch and picked up the bottle that had fallen from his hand moments ago. He placed two pills in your hand and handed you his cup of tea. Once you had taken the pills and settled down on your brother’s shoulder again, you started to drift off to sleep.

From that day on, Levi made sure you were never alone. He would always command another cadet to be with you when he could not be and was always there to talk you down when you were left alone. Let’s just say that whoever left you alone would later be seen unconscious with a bloody nose before being carried off to the medical wing.

#aot comfort #aot x reader #aot #levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #anxiety #anxiety attack

89 notes · View notes

pretchatta · 4 years ago

Text

swoon june day 10: falling asleep on their shoulder

continued from day 3: feeling their pulse

rating: general (contains descriptions of hospitals and being hospitalised); kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 800 words

---

Kanan woke to the soft beeping of medical monitoring machines and the sharp smell of bacta. The light hitting his eyelids was bright, but he found them heavy to open, the vestiges of a drug-induced sleep still clinging to his muscles. His body felt sluggish yet there was no pain, which either meant he was fine or that he’d been dosed with serious painkillers. Both of his shoulders were completely numb, which was interesting; he didn’t think he’d ever been hit on both sides at the same time before.

He forced his eyes to open, squinting at the harsh lights reflecting off the white walls. Instinctively he raised a hand to shield his face, but suddenly there was movement on his left side and his wrists were pinned back against the blankets that covered his body.

“Nnngph!” someone mumbled, jerking upright. “No blood tests!”

“Hera?” he croaked.

Her face appeared above him then, blinking sleepily as though she’d just woken up. Her mouth split into a wide smile.

“Kanan!” She released his hands, and he brought them up to brush her face, marvelling as he always did at her beauty. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep on you. I thought you were one of the doctors, they keep trying to scan your blood so I’ve been keeping watch over you. Well, sort of.” She looked a little sheepish, but Kanan had already forgiven her.

“Remind me why I’m in a medcenter this time?” he asked.

“You got shot at the refueling station,” she said with a somewhat pained expression. “We were caught in the crossfire between those pirates and the Empire. You were unconscious, so I had to drag you back to the Ghost, but your injury was too serious for me to treat you on my own. This place was the best I could do – it’s not Imperial, it’s completely unregistered, and I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to stop them from collecting any samples of anything from you. It’s probably not the highest quality of care, but they seem to have patched you up well enough.”

“That explains why I don’t remember trying to stop you bringing me here,” he muttered. Experimentally he flexed both of his arms. One was attached to an IV line and the other now tingled with pins and needles. “Everything still seems to work, at least. Which shoulder did I get shot in?”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing smile. “Very funny. My head’s not that heavy.”

He was still grinning as he tugged the IV out and sat up on the bed. The blanket pooled around his waist and he realised that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, though he still had his trousers and boots on.

“What are you doing?” Hera’s voice was full of concern as she placed a gentle hand on his chest, ready to push him back down. “Don’t you need to rest a little longer?”

“I’m fine,” he brushed her off. “There’s nothing more here that I can’t get on the Ghost, and I don’t want to spend another second in this place. Where’s my shirt?”

“They had to cut you out of it, it was ruined anyway.” She seemed to accept that he was leaving and produced his blaster holster from under the bed as he swung his feet onto the floor. “Chopper’s got the Ghost, I couldn’t land close enough when we arrived so he dropped us off and went to find a spaceport. We might have to take a shuttle, but I’ll comm him.”

Kanan swayed slightly as he stood up, but found his balance and reattached his holster around his hips. Hera gave him a look before drawing his good arm over her shoulders and helping him across the room. Despite his insistence that he was fine, the painkillers still seemed to be affecting him and his movements were sluggish. Hera kept a watchful eye out for doctors.

No-one stopped them as Hera helped Kanan to limp out of the facility. Hera had been forced to leave her credit account details with reception so she knew the room charge would be on its way, but considering what she was paying for, it didn’t bother her. They made it to the shuttle bay just outside of the medcenter and Hera managed to get through to Chopper to arrange where they would meet the Ghost.

Kanan was leaning heavily on her when their shuttle pulled up. She helped him on board and into the first available seat.

“We’re not going very far, so try to stay awake–”

Too late. His head dropped onto her shoulder and he slumped against her side. She looked at him for a moment, shirtless with a bacta bandage over one shoulder, hair dishevelled, his expression peaceful, and decided to let him rest.

#kanera #swoonjune2021 #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #fic #pretchwritta #swoon june

39 notes · View notes

bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Gunmen at school force Peter to act;

Fortunately, it’s after school hours, and the only ones in the library are the Academic Decathlon Team.

Unfortunately, the gunmen are targeting them specifically, due to the kidnap and ransom opportunities involved in this particular group of kids. One of whom is the son of a prominent lawyer, and another who was recently publicly outed as Tony Stark’s personal intern.

It’s after hours, and the acadec team have a meeting in the library. The school stays open for student access until 6pm, and it was approaching that time as they begin packing up after their session.

Only a few members of the team were there (Peter, Ned, MJ, Flash, Betty, and Abe), as well as Mr Harrington, who was there more in a supervisory capacity (though he was slouched on a beanbag having a well deserved nap. He was happy to just let them get on with it).

Flash had been leaving Peter alone in recent weeks. The glaring had definitely gotten worse, but the mocking had stopped almost entirely.

A mix up with timings and press and being in the wrong place at the wrong time (that damned Parker Luck), meant that Peter had accidentally been outed as an intern working directly under Tony Stark. Peter himself hadn’t really been hiding it around his friends, but Tony had been trying to keep all knowledge of him out of the media. The last thing he wanted was to put Peter or his Aunt in a spotlight, elevating them in to a much higher “kidnap risk” category.

Unfortunately they had failed at that (though Tony made sure that Aunt May’s apartment was filled with hidden panic buttons, and that she had his lawyers on call in case of harassment).

The six of them were packing away their things. Flash was grumbling at all the wrong answers he had gotten, and Abe was joking about leaving Mr Harrington asleep to see if he would still be there in the morning. Going by the bags under his eyes, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Suddenly, Peter feels a shiver run up his neck. He frowns and straightens his back, alert, and Ned gives him a worried look as the others bustle around them, not noticing their abrupt withdrawal from the conversation.

His hearing picks up boots moving in from the other side of the school. Slower than a walking pace... someone was trying to sneak. Peter’s head snaps to the door and he feels a gentle tug on his sleeve as Ned whispers:

“Dude, what is it? You’ve got that look. Is something about to happen?”

The footsteps are getting closer and Peter hushes Ned quietly, before doing so again louder, for the whole group.

Abe speaks up loudly:

“Come on, I was only joking about leaving him asleep-”

MJ interrupts him, quiet but forceful:

“Abe, shut up.”

She looks to Peter expectantly (yes of course she knows about Spiderman) and frowns at his serious expression.

He puts a finger to his lips and gestures for them to stay where they are as he walks slowly towards the door. Flash speaks up, almost yelling:

“What the hell are you doing, Penis?”

Mr Harrington wakes with a start at that and lets out a snort before freezing in place (looking very confused) as Peter whisper-shouts back:

“Shut the hell up! I think someone’s coming.”

Flash raises his eyebrows, and goes to retort, but is interrupted by Betty whispering:

“There are no other clubs on at the moment, no one should be here. It’s probably just a teacher or a security guard or something right?”

Peter shakes his head almost imperceptibly as he continues to make his way to the door.

Mr Harrington stands up slowly, before speaking, once again interrupting Flash who was about to try again:

“I... I’m not sure why I’m whispering, Betty is probably right. Peter, what’s the prob-”

Before Mr Harrington can finish his question, Peter stifles a gasp, just moments before the door is kicked violently in.

Two men in makeshift tactical gear and black ski masks storm into the room, large semi-automatic weapons in their hands. Peter stumbles back, having been close to the door, and the rest of the group let out short screams. Mr Harrington quickly takes a few steps forward, trying to get in front of the group, but he is quickly halted by one of the men:

“STOP! Nobody move, nobody speak, or we start putting bullets through the extras.”

Everyone freezes in place, the students looking terrified, tears slipping down their cheeks. Mr Harrington looking oddly angry, clenching his fists.

Peter flexes his wrists minutely, and is comforted to feel the hidden webshooters against his skin. He would really rather not use them, but he would, if it meant protecting the others.

One of the men steps forward and roughly grabs Peter by the collar, holding him in front of his body. He lets the gun hang on his back by the strap, but pulls out a knife which he presses to Peters neck, pressing hard enough that blood beads slightly where the metal is pushed against his skin.

He speaks gruffly:

“This one is Stark’s kid. Grab Thompson, and the blondie, she looks rich.”

The others panic at that, Mr Harrington taking another step forward and holding his hands out:

“Wait wait wait, you don’t need to take the kids, I’ll go with you, just-”

The second man swings the gun in an arc, the metal hitting Mr Harrington’s head with a resounding thwack as he crumples to the floor, unconscious.

Peter tenses even more at that, becoming angry, and the others let out pained cries at the blood on their teacher’s forehead. Flash tries to take a step back, but is quickly grabbed by the gunman and yanked away from the group.

Peter was desperately trying to think of a way to reach the panic button on his webshooters, but any movement might prompt his guard dog to press the knife deeper, and he didn’t want them spotting the hidden weapons and taking them away before he had a chance to do anything.

The second gunman pushes Flash towards his partner and Peter, and takes a step towards Betty, who is well on her way to a panic attack. MJ and Ned had moved in front of her protectively, but ultimately they could do nothing as they were shoved aside.

At Betty’s cry of pain when her arm was roughly grabbed, Peter made a split second decision: Enough of this shit.

He makes brief eye contact with Ned, before reaching up and grabbing the hand that held the knife. As soon as he had a strong grip, he pushed his feet into the floor, and launched the two of them back as hard as he could.

His enhanced strength meant that the force with which they hit the wall behind them knocked the gunman out instantaneously, and Peter could hear the satisfying cracks as bones were broken.

Peter’s impact was cushioned by the body behind him, and so he wastes no time, waiting only for the second gunman to turn around before he shoots a web at his gun.

The moment it sticks, he pulls his arm back quickly, and the weapon flies towards him. The gunman is in shock as Peter catches it and, without breaking eye contact, crushes the metal before dropping it to the floor.

The class look on in shock, but it isn’t long before Ned and MJ are grabbing their hands and ushering them out of the way, so that no one gets hurt.

“What the hell?” Comes from Flash, still beside Peter, but MJ quickly yells at him:

“Get over here you idiot, get out of the way!” and he runs to the group huddled around Mr Harrington.

The second gunman snaps himself out of his shock and growls as he takes out a knife and begins to run at Peter:

“You little bastard!”

Peter, sidesteps as the attacker swipes the knife at him, and grabs his outstretched arm, spinning in a circle to throw him at the wall beside his unconscious partner.

He isn’t thrown quite as hard as the first one, and Peter stalks towards him, a scowl on his face as the man tries to shake the daze from his mind.

He dropped the knife on impact, and he looks up just in time to see Peter reach forward, and rip his mask off. It’s no one Peter recognises, just a general thug, but he’s not sure what he was expecting.

The man looks a little more desperate now, it seeming to have registered in his brain that this was not a normal kid.

He tries to throw a punch at Peter’s face, but yelps when Peter catches it without trouble. His yelp is followed by a scream as Peter tightens his hold, crushing the bones in the mans hand as the acadec team watch on in barely concealed horror.

Peter’s enhanced senses pick up a whispered “what the fuck...” but he pays it no mind as he picks the whimpering man up by his collar, and throws him through the table they had all previously been sat at.

The others can’t tear their stares away from Peter as he strides quickly across the room. None of them had ever seen him so furious before, but before MJ or Ned could step in, Peter once again reaches the would-be kidnapper, and pulls him up by the collar with one hand, as he brings the other down to land a punch on his face.

He lets out a self satisfied smirk as the man rolls on his side, weakly spitting out a tooth and a mouthful of blood.

He absentmindedly looks over his shoulder, before throwing an arm out and webbing the still unconscious man to the wall he leant against. Just as a precaution.

Peter looked back down at the quivering mess, holding his broken hand against his chest and looking up at the teen in fear. He snarls as he begins to speak, not even slightly out of breath:

“You come to my school-”

(He aims another, slightly softer punch to the mans abdomen. His whimpers turn loud again.)

“You threaten MY friends-”

(He picks the man up once more, before dropping him harshly onto his knee, and watching as he bounces off, landing a few feet away.)

“And you thought I wasn’t going to put up a fight?-”

(He once again picks the almost limp man up by the collar, and holds him against a wall.)

“Sorry buddy. That’s not how this works. All you’ve done, is piss me off.”

At that, he brings his hand back, forming a fist, and strikes the side of the man’s face. His head rocks to the side violently, and Peter see’s the man’s eyes close. Falling unconscious from the pain (he heard the crack), or the hit to the head, Peter isn’t sure. But he doesn’t care.

He brings his hand back for another punch, only stopping at Ned’s shout:

“Peter no! He’s already passed out dude, drop him!”

Peter hesitates slightly, but doesn’t drop his hand, it’s only at MJ’s desperate yell-

“Peter, you’re gonna kill him!”

-that he steps back, dropping the attacker, and finally taking a deep breath.

He stares down at him, before blinking rapidly, and shaking the daze from his head. He finally presses the panic button on his webshooter (the one that meant emergency, but not immediate-life-or-death-emergency) before he webs him to the wall. He highly doubted he would be waking up any time soon, but just in case.

Peter turns and hurries over to Mr Harrington, not making eye contact with anyone else.

He kneels at his side, checking his pulse and his breathing, before webbing over his backpack and pulling out a mini medkit. He cleans away the blood and checks his pupils before frowning slightly:

“He’ll probably be fine, but he took one hell of a hit. He’ll be out for a while, help is on the way though.”

He still hasn’t looked at the others. He’s well aware of the fact that he just revealed his identity to the group, but more importantly, he knows he let his anger get the better of him. He shouldn’t have focused on the fact that they threatened his friends. He should have just webbed them up and left it at that.

Mr Stark was going to be so mad.

He folds his jacket under Mr Harrington’s head, and stands, only looking up when Betty runs forward and wraps him in a hug.

It surprises him, and he isn’t quite sure what to do, but he wraps his arms around her in return when she whispers a teary “Thank you” in his ear.

After a few moments, she lets go and pulls back, a grateful look on her face. Peter rubs his neck awkwardly and blushes as he looks at the worried expressions on MJ and Ned’s faces, and the shocked expressions on Abe’s and Flash’s:

“You... you’re Spiderman.” From Flash has Peter grimacing and looking to the window, really hoping Mr Stark would show up soon and help him fix this:

“You won’t tell anyone, right?? I was going to reveal my identity when I turned 18 but that’s still a few months away. Can you guy please please please just-”

“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess so.-”

He looks back to them with a panicking realisation, as he rushes to continue:

Abe cuts him off, having shaken the surprise, as he replies:

“Dude, of course we won’t tell anyone, you probably just saved our lives. But... the school is full of cameras... and I doubt we could explain away the lack of Spiderman’s presence when the cops show up. Both of them are covered in webs and you crushed that guy’s gun.”

Peter curses under his breath, but before the panic has time to fester, he hears the tell-tale sound of his webshooters beeping, telling him that Mr Stark had just left the tower.

He gasps and runs to grab his phone, almost tripping as he answers the call:

“Hey, Mr Stark! Uh... we’re in the school library.”

The others don’t hear the reply, but they get the basic meaning when Peter rushes to respond:

“No no! We’re fine, I took care of it! Actually, I could do with an ambulance, Mr Harrington took a nasty hit to the head and passed out-”

Peter stops in his tracks, for a few seconds before continuing:

“I took care of it in a Spiderman kinda way, and this school is full of cameras and I-”

He pauses again:

“-No I wasn’t wearing the mask, and I’m with my friends, that’s the problem!”

Peter vaguely hears Flash muttering behind him (”No way is Parker talking to actual Tony Stark.”) but he pays it no mind as he also hears MJ punch him in the arm and tell him the shut up.

He tilts his head before interrupting whatever it was Mr Stark was saying:

“Oh! I can hear you. Let me just open a window, I’ve uh...-”

He looks around the wrecked library a little nervously as he opens the closest window as wide as it would go, before finishing:

“I’ve destroyed enough school property as it is.”

Peter stares out the open window, before cursing under his breath and quickly sidestepping, just in time for the Iron Man suit to come flying into the room.

He hangs up the phone and waits nervously. Flash and Abe stare on in complete shock, Ned sports a wide grin, and MJ, unsurprisingly, is completely unbothered by Tony Stark’s appearance, and is more focussed on making sure Mr Harrington stays alright (well... as alright as he can be whilst unconscious with a bleeding head wound).

Tony finally steps out of the suit, and Peter gulps as the the older man looks around at the mess. His gaze stops on perp number one (who was just about starting to stir) and the streak of blood from where his head had hit the (now dented) wall, and slid down:

“Jesus, kid-”

He looks to perp number two, who is in even worse shape (blood coming from his mouth, face starting to bruise rather badly, hand all bent and broken):

“-you really did a number on these guys.-”

He finally looks at a near hysterical Peter, and takes the few steps towards him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder:

“-you sure you’re alright?”

Peter is definitely taken aback at that, he was expecting anger or disappointment, not concern. But before he can reply, Flash speaks up, finally seeming to shake himself out of the daze he was in:

“Holy shit! You actually are Spider-”

Before he can finish, Tony whips his head around and fixes him with a glare:

“Hush, kid, the superheroes are talking.” before turning around to a very confused and slightly shocked Peter:

“You... you’re not mad?” Tony just rolls his eyes at that, and takes a step back, putting both hands in his pockets:

“Pete... I do so much worse than this all the time. I gotta say this is... bloodier than your normal crime scenes, but at least you didn’t kill anyone.”

He says it with a shrug, and Peter begins fiddling with the hem of his sweater as he replies, looking to the floor:

“Yeah, but I almost did. I got angry and I only stopped because Ned and MJ yelled at me.”

Tony hums thoughtfully at that, before looking to Ned and MJ (both of whom he’s met briefly before):

“You two want first aid training? Self defence lessons? Might come in useful if you’re gonna be looking after my kid- oh never mind-”

He waves his hand absentmindedly before looking back at a shocked Peter:

“-we’ll have that conversation later. The cops are on the way, and they’re bringing an ambulance for your teacher. How do you want to play this, Pete?”

Peter is evidently shocked at being given control, he sort of figured that Mr Stark would know what to do:

“I uh... I don’t know. Abe pointed out that there are cameras everywhere, and Spiderman was obviously here-”

He gestures at the two perps. He notices the first about to speak, and quickly webs his mouth. He makes an angry noise in the back of his throat, but it quickly turns into a groan as the pain registers:

“-and those three saw me-”

He quickly turns his attention to Flash, Abe, and Betty:

“not that I don’t trust you guys... well... maybe not Flash... but-”

Tony waves a hand at him and he stops talking, shutting his mouth with a snap. Tony thinks for a minute, looking casually around the room, before looking back to Peter:

“Ok, you’re right kid, there’s no real way to explain this away. We’re just gonna have to fast track things-”

He looks to his suit, still stood open on the other side of the room:

“FRIDAY, tell Pepper that Pete’s identity got out, and to call for a press conference at the tower for... say... two hours from now?-”

His gaze returns to Peter, who is relaxing a bit now, obviously grateful that Mr Stark has some sort of plan, and is taking control:

“We’re just gonna have to come out with it Pete. You head back to the tower and plan it with Pepper. I’ll stay here to look after your kiddy friends, and deal with the cops, alright?”

Peter nods, but looks over at MJ, still sat next to Mr Harrington, keeping an eye on him. His gaze flicks up to the others:

“Are you guys ok with me leaving? I... I’ll stay if you want me to.”

Peter doesn’t notice the fond smile on Tony’s face as he says this, too focused on his friends. Betty is the one who speaks first, with a wide smile on her face:

“We’ll be fine Peter, go and do your thing.”

Peter smiles slightly at that, as Ned speaks:

“Yeah dude, go. We’ll see you later alright?”

MJ, looks up quickly, a teasing smile on her face:

“I’m fine with you going as long as you swear to introduce me to Pepper Potts, she is the real superhero.” Flash scoffs at that, but Tony laughs and nods his head:

“MJ, right? You’re more than welcome to come over with Peter this weekend... in fact... I actually think Pepper was looking for a part time assistant, few hours a week sorta thing. Interested?”

Peter and Ned laugh at the visible shock on her face, and her speechlessness (something that they have never seen before, and will likely never see again) as she wordlessly nods.

“Deal.-”

He looks back to Peter, and gestures to the open window:

“Swing over to the tower kid, stick your mask on but don’t bother with the rest of the suit until the conference, there isn’t much point now.”

Peter nods firmly, and grabs his backpack, reaching for his mask and pulling it over his head. He hangs out the window, and looks back to say:

“Cops and the ambulance just pulled up round the front, I can hear them. I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t wait for a response as he swings round the corner, making his way to the tower as quickly as he can.

Despite Mr Stark’s assurance, he was still ashamed of what he’d done. He had allowed his anger to control him, and he almost killed someone because he let his personal attachment to the victims cloud his judgement.

He was meant to be the Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman, not the Punisher or Daredevil. He didn’t want anyone to be scared of him, not even criminals to be honest. But he trusts Tony and Pepper, he’s sure this won’t get too out of hand, they won’t let it.

He’ll have to do some more training with Cap and Bucky, get better at regulating his strength.

Back at the school, Tony was rolling his eyes and trying desperately to ignore Flash, who is managing to somehow be both antagonistic, and an extreme fanboy. It’s his next question that has Tony whipping his head to him, a look of disbelief on his face:

“So is Pen- Parker really your intern??”

“Kid are you... I thought this was a smart school?-”

Ned’s mouth hangs open at that, and Abe, Betty, and MJ laugh:

“-Look, whatever-your-name-is, Spiderman is the internship. Though at this point he spends more time messing around in my lab than he does at his own home so-”

At that point, thankfully, the ambulance crew walks in, and Tony sighs in relief; glad he could now have an excuse to cut off any and all conversation with these kids. God this was going to be a long few days.

THE END

Figured I’d branch out and write something for one of the other stupid things I’m obsessed with. I know most of my followers are Merlin accounts so... sorry lads but ;)

Tell me what you think lads. Just like normal, you wanna write it out properly with descriptions and paragraphs and shit, go for it, credit and tag me :)

75 notes · View notes

northcarolinanative · 5 years ago

Text

𝐏𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

A/N: I am so sorry that this took like an eternity for me to write, I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!! I know that the POV’s might get a bit confusing sorry:( Requests/Asks/Messages are open as always:) TW: Drowning, blood, unconsciousness

Request by @sunshine-on-the-coast: Could you possibly do a request where you surf the surge, or you're on the HMS pogue and you drown and JJ he saves you or something?

“Pogue Style” JJ yelled to you and John B as the three of you headed out onto the water. Kie and Pope stood behind the three of you. JJ and I had been dating for a little while now but had been flirting with each other for ages. Technically I’m a Kook, the kind of girl that was sheltered her whole life by her parents. That was until I met Kie at the Kook Academy. Kie was quick to notice that I was being left out of the kook life, much like she had been. So she took you under her wing and introduced me to the pogues. My parents weren’t too happy, to begin with, but saw the shift in their daughter. I was happier and more confident after hanging out with the pogues.

As we starting storming through the surf JJ stopped me. “You ready to go full pogue baby?” He laughed, shaking some of the water out of his hair.

“Hell yeah, I am!” I said laughing and running toward the water. I learned to surf with the pogues only a few months ago. While I pretended to be cool about the situation with my friends, I was freaking out on the inside. I had never even left my house during a hurricane before now, much less been in the ocean. JJ was looking back at my over his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear. He nodded for me to follow him out. So I took off, running into the white-capped waves.

“I am not resuscitating any of you! It’s double overhead out there you idiots.” Kie called, as she stood in the pouring rain on the beach.

The water was rough and choppy. Once the water was deep enough I laid over my board, paddling further out in the water, watching as JJ jumped up, riding the first wave that he was able to. The water was rocking my board, making it hard for me to say on top of it, mixed with the rain that was pelting us made it harder to see. JJ wiped out only a few moments later, splashing into the shallow water near the shore. Beside me, John B began to quickly paddle forward as I watched a wave approaching from behind us. John B stood up, teetering from the harsh waves on top of the water, but I could see the way the current underneath was stronger. John B hit the water with his back, cause a chorus of “Ooh” and “ouch” from the beach. JJ paddled back out towards the waves. “Don’t chicken out now princess” JJ teased.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not planning on wiping out like you two,” I said pointing at the two as John B had paddled out to meet us. I looked out and saw a large wave headed for us. JJ and I shared a look with JB as we all start paddling forward, trying to get ahead of it. When the time came I stood up slowly trying to steady myself. The rough water was making it harder, but as soon as I stood up, I could feel the smile spread across my face. This was harder than the times I had surfed before the rain and current being harsher. I shifted my weight trying to carve into the wave.

A mistake. The board fell out from under me as I fell into the water. I tried to resurface ad grab my board, but I was pushed under by another crashing wave. I tried to grab for my bored, but it was knocked back into my head as a third wave crashed over me.

“Hell yea!” John B yelled as he pulled himself and his board up the shore towards Pope and Kie, who were still looking out over the stead waves.

“That was sick bro!” JJ said patting him on the back. Once back on the sand he turned everywhere looking for Y/N, she was nowhere to be seen. “Where is Y/N?” JJ asked throwing his board up towards Kie and Pope.

Kie and John B followed JJ into the water as he was looking for his girlfriend. His heart dropped when he saw the board surface a wave, but there was no one attached to it. John B threw the board to Kie before swimming out a bit into the rouge water. The storm was definitely starting to set in as the boys waded through the heavy crashing waves.

JJ felt an immense amount of guilt with each wave the hit his torso. He knew that she was not as an experienced surfer as John B or himself. He saw that Y/N had been hesitant and instead he was trying to push her further into doing it. He felt his breath stop in his throat the longer that time passed where she had yet to resurface. Searching in the ocean for Y/N felt like an eternity to JJ, but it was in actuality only a few seconds.

John B quickly moved out further as he saw her hair amongst the water’s surface. He flagged JJ down pointing to the figure in front of him.. “J she’s right there!” He made his way over to the girl’s struggling form. He lifted her arm, over his shoulder trying his best to pull her out of the water. JJ’s eyes narrowed as he saw her limp form, coughing up water as John B took her other arm mirror JJ’s actions. The two of them were practically dragging it her out of the water. Her head hanging low, hair falling in front of her face, but what worried him the most was short, struggled coughs that came from her body. JJ was quick to pull her into his arms as they reached the shore.

He carried her up onto the beach, he pulled her head over his lap. He was trying to move her tangled hair out of her face. Her eyes were barely staying open. JJ could not miss the blood that was slowly coming from the split above her eyebrow, assuming that she was hit by the surfboard. Kie fell to her knees beside JJ, he could hear the pain in her voice. “Hey Y/N. Are you there?”

I first felt a hand on my face, pushing wet hair away from my face. The world was covered in a white fog. I hear a few mumbles of girl’s voices, I nodded my head letting them know I was hearing them. I focused on the boy above me, my boyfriend who looked broken. His eyes were full of worry. I tried to speak, to tell him that I was okay, but all that came out was water. I started coughing and quickly felt myself being pushed up by JJ and Kie. JJ sat behind me wrapping his arms around my middle as I coughed up what felt like an entire lung. Kie was to my left trying to comfort me by rubbing up and down my arm.

I looked up to see Pope and John B kneeled down in front of me, wearing the same concerned look. I focused on my breathing, reaching down, and playing with the sand to begin to calm me from my initial panic. I felt my breathing become normal again and leaned back against JJ, resting my head on his shoulder.

Kie took a towel from the bag that she had on her bag and began to dab above my eyebrow. I winced as it stung. I saw that the towel was turning red. I reached up to touch my eyebrow when I looked at my hand it was faintly tinted red. I looked up at Kie, wide eyes. “What happened?” I asked, reaching for the bottom of the towel to wipe off my hand.

“I don’t know. You were the one who decided to listen to John B and JJ was a good idea.” She said causing us all to chuckle a little bit. “It looks like you split your eyebrow, nothing too serious.”

I felt JJ tighten his grip and place a kiss to my shoulder. “You scared the shit out of my baby.” He breathed out. “We aren’t surfing the surge again.”

“Oh sure big guy,” I said turning to face him. He kissed me softly, before placing a another to my temple, beside the cut on my eyebrow.

We were quickly interrupted by the crack of thunder and a flash of lightning from the horizon. On cue, the other’s helped us carry the boards back to the van. JJ refused to let me walk without his help. He lifted me onto his back carrying me back. As we approached the boardwalk, he started talking again. “Seriously Y/N you got lucky. I’m not gonna let my recklessness get you hurt or in trouble. You don’t deserve that, I’ll do better.”

I pulled myself tighter to him. “JJ, no you wouldn’t be you if you thought things through.” I laughed, causing him to scoff playfully. “Seriously though, it was fun, minus the almost dying part. This isn’t your fault JJ.”

He stayed quiet as we made our way back to the van. All settling into the van. John B started the drive back to the Chateau. “So Y/N how do you like living Pogue Style?” John B said from the driver’s seat, making the weird surfer hand gesture, causing us all to laugh.

I looked over at JJ, locking eyes with both of us smiling at one another. “I love it.”

Masterlist

277 notes · View notes

nev3rfound · 5 years ago

Text

almost lost, but not quite : avengers

brief summary: you are hydra’s weapon, something no one would expect. but when you’re forced to fight the avengers, they realise how vulnerable you actually are

word count: 2.1k requested: yes by @sevenmorningstars - thank you for reaching out a while back with your idea i hope you like it! warnings: mentions of abuse (scenes described similarly to winter soldier)

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

masterlistin’

permanent taglist

You listen as the door is unbolted, but you keep your eyes trained to the floor.

Three pairs of boots were stood in front of you now as the door creaks in desperation. “Soldier,” The superior speaks up and you slowly lift your head up, locking eyes with the man in the middle wearing his full uniform.

“What is my assignment?” You question, void of emotion as he nods.

You watch as the men either side of him stand at your sides, lifting you up.

Fighting against their hold, they look to the superior with concern. He sighs to himself as you continue to struggle in their hold. “Come, soldier, don’t fight.” He states. “We don’t want a repeat of last time, do we?”

The memory causes chills to run through your body, and you stop fighting. You fall limp in their arms, letting them drag you through the door and down the endless corridor filled with screams and sorrowful pleads of freedom.

Within minutes you enter a room that you’re no stranger to. A single chair awaits you, the ties ready to be wrapped and a Doctor on standby with a metal tray of instruments he won’t hesitate to use.

“Sit, soldier.” The superior motions to the chair, and you comply.

Sitting down, you shut your eyes as you feel hands around your wrists and ankles, securing you into place. Privacy was a luxury you could only dream of now, it was long forgotten and something that was never introduced into this unit.

“What’s my mission, Sir?” You question again as the ties are secured and the men stand in front of the door, their guns already loaded and waiting to be fired if required.

You watch as images flash in front of your eyes, a dozen people that you recognise in New York city. “They’re planning an attack on us, on this unit.” The superior explains as he paces around you, watching closely for any sign of sorrow. “They will steal everything we’ve worked for and burn us to the ground.” He scoffs. “Not that they’ll get that far.”

“Where do I come into this, Sir?” You look up at him, blinking the projection away as a smirk form across his lips.

He bends down, resting his hand on your thigh and squeezes it forcefully. “Your job is to defeat them, protect us as a family.” You can feel his nails digging into your skin, drawing blood. “You’ll do that, won’t you, soldier?”

You nod in response, knowing you have no choice out of this. “Yes, Sir.” You tell him, keeping a straight face as you ignore the tears welling up in your eyes.

Once, a long time ago you knew the Avengers. You admired them and what they did for Earth and those who lived on it. But then you watched them tear apart Sokovia, the damage caused. You watched everyone you knew disappear, pools of blood soak snow as you stood and pinpointed those you cared about, dead.

When HYDRA found you, they knew something about you was special. They told you to trust them, and as a young adolescent, you had no reason to not comply. That was your biggest mistake, you should’ve noticed the soldiers holding guns ready to shoot if you tried to run. You never had a choice in the matter.

From the moment they laid their eyes on you, you belonged to them.

“Good.” He states as he rises back to his feet. “Just to be sure, Doc?” He waves the Doctor over as you turn your head, seeing him holding the mouth guard.

“Wait, please,” You begin to panic as you try to fight against the restraints, but they’ve learnt from last time. “you don’t have to do it, I, I’ll comply. I promise!” You try to reassure them, but the superior shakes his head.

“We just have to know, Soldier. This is the only way.” He smiles to you sweetly as he reaches out, resting his hand on your cheek.

You spit in his face, watching as he harshly steps back. “Full power.” He yells to the Doctor who forces the guard into your mouth as you fight back tears. “There’s no coming back now, Soldier. Good luck.” He turns on his heels and the guards part from the doorway as you watch him leave.

Cool metal rests against your forehead as you look at the Doctor. “I’m sorry, dear.” He mutters to you as he shuts his eyes, pulling the level as you scream.

Securing your gun to your side and knife into the sheath you were ready.

“You know the plan, right?” You feel someone tug on your uniform, tightening your belt around your waist.

“Yes. Do you?” You retort, looking over to your accomplice with a sinister smile as he secures his helmet. “They’ll be here any minute,” A laugh escapes your lips as you take a deep breath before walking out onto the roof.

“Won’t know what’s hit ‘em, will they kid?” Simon turns to you, watching as you shake your head in anticipation. “Come on, we better get into position.”

Lying on your stomach, you hide behind the edge of the main unit. Closing your eyes, you listen out for the sound of footsteps and muttered commands. “Two left, three to the back.” You listen to a voice instruct and turn to Simon, giving him the signal.

“Be safe, kid.” He tells you as he stands on the edge of the roof, jumping down as he rope around his waist eases him to the ground.

You rise to your feet as you watch Simon trying to fight against three of the Avengers. Your eyes follow their movements, memorising their basic combat training and main stances. “Too easy,” You mutter under your breath as you build energy into the palm of your hands, watching the trees beginning to shake.

“What the hell?” Steve yells as more soldiers walk out from the unit, firing guns. “Just keep going, try and get inside Cap.” Tony calls out as Natasha tackles several soldiers whilst Bruce throws multiple at once.

Tony rises from the ground and flies forward, unaware of the tree being lifted from its roots and being thrown in his direction.

“Tony, watch out!” He turns just in time to avoid the tree as it crashes beneath you.

“Damn.” You sigh as you lift three trees up at once, focusing on them as you hover them above Captain America, Scarlett Witch and Black Widow. Just as you go to drop them, you’re tackled off of your feet to the ground.

“What’re you doing?” Iron Man yells at you, trapping you beneath him until you punch his shoulder, sending him flying back. As Tony hovers in the air, disbelief crosses his face as you stand up, brushing gravel from your clothes. “That, that’s not possible.” He states as you run at full speed and jump from the building with nothing to hold you back.

Landing on the ground, you watch as soldiers part for you to walk through.

“They’ve got a weapon oncoming guys.” Tony announces, watching as you pass through, taking a gun and firing it. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” He mutters to himself as he flies over, firing down at HYDRA soldiers.

The Avengers continue to dodge your bullets and Natasha runs toward you.

As you fight her, she struggles to keep up. “You’re a kid?” She questions as you smile sweetly before punching her square in the face, knocking her unconscious with your sheer force.

Quickly you weave through their defence systems and attacks. You might be outnumbered, but they’re underestimating your potential.

“Kid, give up. You don’t wanna do this.” Steve stands in front of you as blood covers his face.

You wipe away the blood that coats your lips as you hold your fists up. “Trust me,” You start, squaring him up once again. “there’s nothing I’d rather be doing.”

Steve can feel himself losing momentum and looks around for a split second, noticing Natasha in Bruce’s arms as he runs back toward the Quinjet. Wanda is trapped by three trees as Vision fights off anyone who comes near her and Tony is above firing down on the soldiers surrounding them all.

Holding your gun in front of Steve, you watch as he lowers his shield. “You giving up, Captain?” You raise an eyebrow as he pants heavily.

“No,” He tells you, securing his shield as you both remain still. “I just have to ask, why are you doing this?”

Steve watches as your hand twitches. He can see you fighting with yourself as your eyes remain focused on the gun, but your hand wants to lower it.

“I have no choice, Captain.” You admit sadly, a glimpse of yourself fighting through. “They’ll torture me and kill me eventually if I give up.” You tell him, and for a split second, Steve can see Bucky in you.

“I have a friend like you,” Steve steps closer cautiously, keeping his eyes on you but occasionally glancing to the gun. “he was HYDRA’s weapon, so I understand that you feel like there isn’t a way out. But I promise you, there’s a way out.” He explains, resting his hand on your gun.

Your eyes plead to be saved, but your hand remains tightly locked around the gun.

“I’m sorry,” You mumble as you pull the trigger, watching blood seep through the blue on his shoulder as he falls back.

His shield falls to the ground, and you lower your gun. “It’s done.” You tell yourself as you close your eyes, stopping the tears from returning.

“You’re just a kid,” Tony lands behind you as you quickly turn, holding your gun back up as your trembles return. “let me help you.” He states and you shake your head.

“Why should I trust you? I’m safe here, I, I’m home.” You try to hide the fear in your tone as the soldier's retreat, leaving you alone on the field as your mess is left for the superior to review.

“This isn’t a home,” Tony states, motioning around you. “this isn’t somewhere you should be kept. We can help you, stop them from using you in this way.”

“I can’t. If I try they’ll kill me.” You tell him. “The last person who tried to escape didn’t make it to the gates. He was hung there for weeks to serve as a reminder.” What you didn’t mention was how you had been at HYDRA for a month at that point, a twelve-year-old exposed to the true horrors they held.

“They didn’t have the Avengers to help them though, did they?” He retorts as he removes his mask, revealing a kind face. “Let us save you, we can stop them from getting into there.” He points to your head.

“How do you know it’ll stop?” You question, desperation in your tone as you wish for freedom more than anything. “How do I know you won’t just kill me? I’m HYDRA after all.”

“You deserve a chance.” Tony tells you, his eyes focusing on you closely. “If you can release my friends, I promise to get you out of here alive.”

You sigh to yourself as you look over to see the trees still crushing Scarlett Witch. “I thought she could’ve gotten herself out.” You mutter under your breath before forcing the trees up.

“Are you alright, Wanda?” Vision helps Wanda to her feet as she stumbles over her footing.

Holding onto Vision tightly, she looks over to you with fury in her eyes. “Don’t, Wanda.” Tony states. “She means no harm.”

“She’s HYDRA, of course she means harm.” Wanda bitterly retorts.

“I’m sorry,” You call out, lowering your gun to the ground and holding your hands up. “I, I had no choice.”

Wanda can see your whole body shaking as Tony looks back at you. “Were you in that room?” She questions, walking closer toward you as Vision closely follows. “With that Doctor?”

Flashes of the events run through your mind as you nod. “Daily.” You tell her and her heart breaks for you.

“It’s okay,” She tells you, resting her arm around you. “you’ll be safe.”

“We better go before more come back.” Vision states as he takes Wanda, flying off with her as Tony helps you and Steve.

“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” You motion to the unconscious soldier in Tony’s arms as you fly alongside him.

“That’s like having a papercut, kid.” Tony jokes, watching as you finally crack a smile. “We just need to make sure you’ll be alright.”

“Thank you,” You mutter as you reach the Quinjet, looking up at it before glancing back at the gates now behind you. “and I, I’m Y/n.”

Tony smiles softly to you as he steps aboard the Quinjet, waiting for you to follow. “Come on, then Y/n. A new life is just ahead.”

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio & at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️

@biss-stuff @psychicforest @lourightm @mywinterwolf @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir

467 notes · View notes

feeling-uncomfy · 4 years ago

Text

Mafia AU (split into 3 part!)

With over 36000 words I am proud to finally give this to you!

Fair warning, there is blood, fighting, torture (also referenced) and panic attacks mentioned in this story, so be cautious!

Hope you enjoy!

Hawks sat at the table, looking as calm as ever. Tokoyami sat next to him, shoulders tense. He bounced his leg in anticipation, waiting for the other dealers to arrive. Hawks patted his back gently. "Calm down, I promise, security is extra tight. No one's getting away with shit." Tokoyami's leg stopped moving from under the table, but he wasn't convinced.

The door opened to reveal a man. His hair was long and blonde, sitting dead straight, and he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He was tall and lean, not too built up, but Hawks was sure he could throw a punch. He plopped down across from them like he owned the place.

Behind him came the opposite. He had short hair that was tied up, and Tokoyami felt his body involuntarily tensing again as he took in the scars littering the mans body. Hawks kept his hand firmly on his shoulder, and he took a breath. The man sat down much more cautiously than his partner did, sizing the pair up. Hawks grinned at the man, who scowled in return.

The first man spoke up. "So! I see we're late, hope you didnt get too impatient." Hawsk laughed easily, hand slipping away from Tokoyami. "Trust me, we weren't waiting too long, Yamada. Now, about that offer...?" Yamada lit up. "But of course! Firstly, who's this cutie?" Tokoyami jolted as he was addressed. "This is..." Hawks debated on telling a lie, but decided that Yamada was safe. "He's my brother. Now, who's that." Hawks pointed the attention away from his younger brother.

The man in question scoffed. "This is Aziawa. He's my bodyguard and most trusted partner." Yamada slung his arm over Aziawa's shoulder. Aziawa glared at the pair across from the table. "He's a little young to be involved in all this, don't you think?" Aziawa's eyes softened slightly as he looked Tokoyami up and down. Tokoyami shrugged and leaned backwards slightly.

Hawks took over. "He's more capable than most of my staff, so he's staying. The deal, Yamada?" Hawks let one arm fall, and grabbed a briefcase from his side. While bringing it back up, Hawks made sure his gun was at easy access. Yamada nodded enthusiastically and brought forward his own package.

Tokoyami watched them both open, curious. Aziawa leaned forward, arm subtlety reaching over Yamada's front. Both briefcases were opened. "How much is in there? We aren't here to get scammed." Aziawa said, sounding bored. Tokoyami knew that wasn't good. If he seemed bored, that meant he was confident enough that he could kick their asses. Tokoyami hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"There's the amount you asked for." Hawks said. "If you're concerned, you can always double check before you leave." Hawks had that aura of 'dont test me' floating around. It was a subtle thing not many could recognize. Tokoyami swallowed when Aziawa's glare landed on him. "You're the only alibi he has. Is there the right amount of cash in there?" Aziawa's snapped at him. Tokoyami hesitated for a split second before answering. "It's all there. I was present when it was filled." Tokoyami informed him, voice wavering towards the end.

Damn it.

Aziawa stared at him for a few more minutes, before sighing. "Fine, seems legit." Yamada smiled and they swapped cases. And just like that, it was over. "Our ride home should be here in an hour." Aziawa informed Yamada, who laughed. "Looks like we've got time to kill! You wanna get some food?" Hawks nodded, falling peckish. Tokoyami shrugged, he still felt his nerves jumping.

"Right, well, Aziawa can stay with you, and Hawks and I can go get food." Tokoyami's head snapped up. Alone, with him? Hawks pondered on the thought, before turning to Tokoyami. "It's up to you, if you wanna come, you can." Aziawa scoffed. "Just go. Nothing's going to happen." Tokoyami froze, and Hawks stood and looked at Aziawa. "Yeah, sure... we'll be back in a minute, okay?"

Tokoyami didnt have a chance to respond, Yamada dragged Hawks out the door. Tokoyami and Aziawa were left alone. At first, nothing was said, there was this awkward silence that filled the room. Tokoyami resisted the urge to get up and leave. He didnt trust this, he didnt feel like he could relax. He didnt trust Aziawa. Without warning, Aziawa addressed him. "What's your name?" Tokoyami jerked to look at him.

"My name?" Aziawa sighed and looked at him. "Yeah. Your name. What is it?" Tokoyami couldn't bring himself to look away. "Tokoyami." He mumbled, breaking eye contact. Aziawa didnt respond. The silence fell again. "Are you actually Hawks's brother? Or is that just some game he's got going on?" Tokoyami looked over at Aziawa again, to see something flash in his eyes. An emotion Tokoyami couldn't name.

"Yes, Hawks and I are siblings." Tokoyami spoke as clearly as he could, his nerves jumping again. Aziawa looked at him. "Where're you parents?" Tokoyami didnt answer. Aziawa raised a brow but didnt push any further. Tokoyami looked at the ground, listening for any sounds.

Twenty minutes went by. Another thirty passed, and Yamada and Hawks hadn't come back yet. "Where are those idiots?" Aziawa grumbled, walking towards the door. There was a sudden loud noise, and the sounds of gunfire. "Get down!" Aziawa yelled, grabbing Tokoyami's arm and pulling them both down. Tokoyami let out a panicked noise as the door banged open. Aziawa had shoved the table onto its side, and he had his gun at the ready. Tokoyami froze as a gun was cocked.

The first round hit the table. There was a horrible sound of metal-on-metal that had Tokoyami covering his ears. The second round came soon enough, and the second the sound stopped Aziawa had leaned over and shot twice. There was a choking sound and a body hit the ground. Tokoyami took in a shuddering breath, panic forming and his chest squeezed. "...Kid? Kid, look at me." Aziawa took Tokoyami's shoulder, and he jerked.

"Okay, okay. Listen to me." Aziawa held fast, forcing Tokoyami to look at him. "Here's what we're gonna do. You hold onto this." Aziawa pulled out a thin piece of material. "And tie it to this." Aziawa wrapped it around Tokoyami's wrist and Aziawa wrist. "And we wont lose each other. Okay? It stretches, so dont worry."

Tokoyami felt the fabric rubbed against his wrist, and he breathed in shakily, but nodded. "Great, we're leaving now." Tokoyami looked up. "Where are we going?" Aziawa shrugged. "We're going to the main entrance, and we'll look for Hawks and Yamada." Tokoyami looked unsure.

"You ever use a gun before?" When Tokoyami shook his head, Aziawa sighed and showed him how. "Now, you shoot if you feel like you need to, okay?" Tokoyami nodded, and they left.

The damage wasn't too bad, and they managed to get to the main entrance relatively easily. Yamada was standing among limp bodies, laughing like a mad man. "Oh, Aziawa! Good, you and the kid aren't hurt!" Tokoyami felt awkward as the fabric was cut, and the three went around, and they met up with Hawks, who was fighting another man. Hawks went down hard, and hopped back up and punched the guy in the face. He shot once, and the man lay still.

He looked up and saw Tokoyami, and rushed forward. "There you are! Are you okay?!" Hawks scooped Tokoyami up, checking for injuries. Tokoyami shook his head. "I'm okay, are you alright?" Hawks laughed. "Obviously! Now, let's get rid of these assholes." Hawks put Tokoyami down and turned.

There was a gunshot, making all four people jump. There was a woman standing at the top of the stairs, smiling. "Now, guns down, boys." Yamada growled, but when the gun was shot near his feet, they compiled. Hawks dropped his gun, as did Aziawa and Yamada. The woman grinned. She pointed the gun at Aziawa and Tokoyami, who were standing side-by-side.

"Over here, now." It wasnt a request. Hawks growled under his breath as Tokoyami and Aziawa made their way over. "First things first." The woman shot Aziawa's leg, and he fell down with a pained grunt. Tokoyami tried to catch him. "Now, pretty bird, be a dear and follow my friend over there outside." Tokoyami looked over at the person standing at the door. He had no weapons, though by the way he was built, he didnt need any weapons.

Tokoyami begrudgingly started walking. He got halfway, turned and pulled the gun Aziawa gave him out and aimed. He should have accounted for the fact he hadn't done this before, and wasnt prepared for the jolt that went through his arms. He was sent back slightly, and lost his footing. Hawks yelled out, and Tokoyami couldn't tell what kind of yell it was.

He got up, shaking. Hawks was at his side, saying something. His ears were ringing, and he couldn't hear anything. Hawks picked him up just as the door behind him burst open. Endeavor came in, men at his side. The woman was unconscious on the ground, having been shot in the back.

"Tokoyami? Fumikage, can you hear me?" Hawks's voice became clearer. "Yeah, I can hear you." Tokoyami mumbled, his hands gripping his jacket tight to hide that they were shaking. Hawks laughed softly. "Right, okay. Lets go, Endeavor can deal with this bitch." Hawks spat, looking at the woman.

Tokoyami stared. He did that. "Is she..." Tokoyami didnt want to say it. Hawks stared at him. "No, she's fine. Dont worry about her." Tokoyami nodded, and the pair walked out, Yamada and Aziawa at their side.

Hawks figured this was a once-off thing, but he was wrong.

"So, that bitch failed..." Shigaraki glared at the camera feed. "Oh well, time to try something else. Dabi." The man in question looked up, a black mask covering the lower half of his face. "Your turn. Get that little bird over here."

Dabi grinned. "I'll have him in a week, tops." Shigaraki grinned. "You better, or I wont hesitate to kill you." Dabi scoffed, and left to prep. His eyes lit up in some form of sick satisfaction.

This was going to be fun.

Part 1 end.

Would you like to see all three parts or suffer waiting for daily updates-?

#boku no hero academia #tokoyami #bnha hawks #aizawa shouta #for legal reasons I will not say whether I got sleep or not

36 notes · View notes

asarahworld-writes · 4 years ago

Text

title: burning, charred, splintered

prompt: Zed overcomes his fear of fire to save Addison

@amber-eyed-neko - welcome to the Zombie crew! As you’ve probably noticed, we are an angst-loving fandom. And with this prompt, you’re going to fit right in! (though we do also love fluff. really. I promise it’s not always angsty. Well, not entirely.) I don’t know what it was about this, but I was inspired! Also, I want to mention that usually I’m not an angsty writer. Usually.

Ash-laden clouds of smoke surround him. Every breath fills his lungs with hot smoky air, forcing him to stagger as another cough wracks his tall frame. In the distance, he can hear the wail of a fire engine approaching but it was still too far off, still behind the wall in Seabrook proper.

As he stumbles out of the burning power plant, he is quickly ambushed by Bonzo and Eliza. Only Bonzo and Eliza.

“Where’s Addison?” They ask simultaneously. “Gozrea Addiska?”

“I thought she was with you!” Zed looks from his friends back to the fiery plant. “She’s still in there?”

Eliza catches his arm as he whips around. “Zed, no, it’s too dangerous.”

“I have to find Addison. It’s my fault she was here.”

“Ag garzen zet. Bak zrayn.”

“She’s my girlfriend, Bonzo. I can’t wait around for somebody to maybe show up. Things might be changing, but this is still Zombietown.” Zed stares at the fiery blaze as he speaks. Red and orange flames raged through the entire plant, thick black plumes of smoke billowing up towards an otherwise clear sky.

Zed stops in his tracks. “I can’t go in until you guys go.” Eliza protests. “No, you have to go. As long as you’re here, I - just, please go.”

“Five minutes, Zed. We’re coming back in five minutes, and if you’re not here,” Eliza choked, pretending to clear her throat.

“Deal. Now get out of here.” Zed watches as his friends leave, then looks back to the burning building. He’s not scared. The fear is consuming, he’s not scared but he’s terrified that he won’t find her.

He takes a deep breath and heads into the blazing fire. Vaguely, he half-remembers some scrap of something that clean air is denser than smoke and to stay low. He crouches to the ground and is relieved to find the air to be slightly cleaner. He takes in a gulp of burning air, his lungs already feeling a different burn from oxygen deprivation. “Addison!” He calls, as loud as he can, as he coughs from the smoke. “Addison!”

The plant was always lit up with coloured lights and pulsing with the beat of loud music and in a way, the fire mimics it. Flickering orange and yellows, and sharp cracks with a steady crackle underneath, but this is no zombie mash. Something cracks and falls crashing to the floor. As his eyes follow, he sees movement. He calls her name again. Faintly, he hears her.

“Addison!” He finds her, collapsed against a wall that’s smouldering. Every cell in his body is desperate to get out, to get away from the orange embers, but he strains against every instinct. “Addison, can you get up?”

They’re both coughing, and he coaxes her onto her knees. He can feel the terror inching closer, can feel himself nearing his breaking point, and he needs to get them both out before that happens. Something else cracks and the wall beside them fully bursts into flames. Zed freezes for a moment, then forces himself to look at Addison. She’s barely conscious and he’s starting to feel the effects of smoke inhalation. They need to get out. He needs adrenaline, he needs to move. Fast.

Zed makes a split-second decision and took off his Z-band, securing it in Addison’s limp hand. Already, he can feel the effect of the electromagnetics leaving his nervous system. His brain is shifting into fight or flight mode and his body is coursing with energy.

Zed stops and falls to his knees. He lands hard, doing everything he can to push through against his instincts and not leave her. He picks up the unconscious human in front of him, drawing her close to his chest. He inhales deeply, the familiar smell of her brain anchoring him. Out. Get out. Fire. Zon zegra. Fire. Addeska zegra. Addison safe. Grik regur. Get back quickly.

Fire surrounds them, consuming everything. The way he came in is now blocked, another support beam having slammed into the ground, sparks flying. Zed hisses as they land on his coveralls, instinctively pulling his arms in closer. He forces himself to look out across the flames, searching for a way out. He crawls towards where the door should be, used to be, pulling Addison along. Her arms are draped over his neck, most of her body protected underneath his own.

Grik. But how?

The wall has almost caved in. Any support is used to have has long since been compromised and with the lightest force it would collapse. Not giving himself time to think, even in his zombie state, Zed shrugged out of his jacket, placing over Addison to protect her from the sparks and burning ash, and charged at the wall. He burst through it easily, charred wood splintering and embedding itself into his skin. Zed barely felt it. He was vaguely aware of people shouting, but he couldn’t focus on them. He went back into the fire.

Addison was right where he’d left her. He made it back just as his jacket burst into flames and he wasted no time in scooping her up off the ground and back into his arms. He discarded the ruined jacket and held her close as he forced his way back through the makeshift exit.

Someone came running up to meet them as Zed stumbled from the ruins. Whoever it was tried to take Addison from him and he snapped, growling lowly as he protected his mate. “Ag.”

Whoever it was started speaking lowly in Zombietongue, slowly convincing Zed that it was safe. To let Addison go.

“Agru grep.” Zed didn’t leave her side as the Zombie Patrol came in. He heard but didn’t understand what they said as they examined Addison and loaded her onto a stretcher. It was only when they lifted it up that he understood they were taking her. “Ag,” he growled.

Eliza held him back. “Where’s your Z-band? Zer-garzand,” she said urgently.

“Adska,” Zed looked to the departing vehicle.

“Addison has your Z-band? That’s not good, Zed.”

“Adska.” Zed’s eyes were wide and he pulled free of Eliza, sprinting after the patrol car. His zombie-fied strength ensured that he caught up long before his friends could stop him and he followed it, bursting after the paramedics into the human hospital. She was gone. He tried to calm himself and walked as normally as he could to the receptionist.

“Addiskan Well. Zer-garzand - zongro.”

The receptionist looked at him and screamed. Zed tried to make his expression calmed and focused as much as he could.

“Addiskan Wellzz ag za zer-gand.” He tried again, holding up his bare wrist. The next thing Zed knew, he was being forced to floor, patrol officers forcing electromagnetic waves into his brain from a taser. Crude, but it snapped his brain back into its higher functions.

“Addison Wells was in an ambulance to here from the fires and she has my Z-band,” he blurted out, needing to have the officer understand before he was shocked again. “Is she okay?”

The officer said nothing, forcing Zed forward with the taser until they reached the ambulance where his z-band was laying on the ground. Zed moved as smoothly as he could to reach it and quickly snapped it back onto his wrist, breathing deeply as the electromagnetic pulses soothed his instincts.

He looked at the officer. “I just need to know if she’s okay. Please. She’s my girlfriend.”

“The family is on their way. I’m sorry, but we don’t disclose patient information to non-relatives.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Zed repeated.

“There’s nothing I can do about that. However, we do have somebody available to take a look at those burns.”

The moment she said that, Zed became acutely aware of the sensation burning over his entire body. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to make any noise of pain that could be misinterpreted as a Zombie going rogue. He nodded his head jerkily, exhaling sharply through his mouth. The burns were painful, as was the salve and bandage application. Zed said nothing throughout the procedure, staring blankly ahead until it was over.

He returned to reception. “Have the Mayor and Chief Wells arrived yet? When can I see Addison?”

The receptionist ignored him. “Can I have your name and information please?”

Zed rattled it off listlessly, trying to think of any way to find Addison, when the door opened and the two people he’d just been asking about ran through.

“Our daughter, where is she?” Missy Wells stormed to reception, the perfect image of a distraught mother. She and Dale were quickly escorted away and Zed ran after them, ignoring the receptionist and interns and orderlies and whoever else was in the hall trying to stop him. He followed them into the ICU and stopped in his tracks.

Addison was asleep, light gauze covering most of her body. Missy and Dale were at her bedside, Missy holding her hand. Zed drew back, not wanting to intrude on a private family moment, but hit his hand lightly on the door. He hissed in pain involuntarily and the Wells looked up.

Clutching his hand, covered in burns and splinters with his blackened coveralls, Zed realized what a sight he must be as he took in their faces.

“Addison,” he choked out, voice raspy. He moved forward, wincing as he bent his tall frame over the bed. One hand gripping the bedrails for support, Zed reached out and brushed back an unruly white curl. He withdrew, almost collapsing onto the floor. Dale approached him. “I’m not leaving her,” he said thickly.

Dale said nothing, merely helping the boy off the floor and into a chair. “You need medical attention, Zed.”

“I’m not going back to Zombietown. I’m not leaving Addison.”

As always, Zombietongue is from @unusual-ly ‘s masterposts

Zombietongue translations:

1. Gozrea Addiska - where’s Addison

2. Ag garzen zet. Bak zrayn - She’s my friend too. But wait.

3. Zon zegra - not safe

3.5 Grik - fast

4. Ag - mine

5. Agru grep - She needs help.

6. Zer-garzand - zongro - Z-band - bad

Note: I am aware that I randomly switch tenses halfway through. But they just seem right. I don’t know.

#zombies #zeddison

25 notes · View notes