#he chilled too close to the sun and now hes literally going to explode because of fuck ass bankrupt ktm 😭😭😭 BRO 3 BILLION DOLLARS

[jam-packed]

enea too fave and chill and pookie to live they had to send him to evil bankrupt ktm

[petalsonmoon]

you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon.

"it's ridiculous." then he leaned his body foward, his fingers meeting his toes. an elongation you would take embarrasingly months to be able to do that flawlessly.

"and really fucking stupid" he proceeds his thoughts.

"oh please, do go on." you look down to your notes and continue to write your ridiculous ideas.

the sun was far too bright and where its glow met the leaves of the large number of trees around you they were gleaming, like they were immensely happy.

"i hope your little notebook accidently burns to ashes."

"kind of you to say accidently."

"yeah no problem at all"

you glance up to find that he has his knee bended to his chest and quickly look back to the pen in your hand. quite misteriously your hands are stained from it.

"you making the walking sleeping bag one too?" his voice is raspy and angry and very clear. how does he sound so good while doing post training stretching?

perhaps you're looking too much into it. your crush makes you a bit giddy, idiotic in a lot of senses. makes you feel a child just like the word itself is infant. crush.

you sigh heavyly.

"still deciding" you draw a little explosion on the corner of the page.

"might as well do it for class b too."

"if i got a penny for every dramatic sentence that came out of your mouth-"

he had his back to you but he insisted on turning his head to you to send you the most chilling glare for exactly 3 seconds. that's his stupidity. his eyes were already too pretty in your eyes for you to feel an ounce of that anger.

"-only today i'd have like," you scrunch your nose "the amount of money equivalent to the ferocity of all might's powers."

he doesn't bother to look at you again and you smile.

"would you look at that. i should look for the person with this quirk."

he growls. loud. and you're smile is genuine.

he sits up straight, his back to you and starts leisurely move his neck. that's the sign he's almost done.

"putting too much money for those idiots.”

"it's not that much" you reason. "don't feel that way for too long, you're getting one too."

with that, it's over.

he turns to you and when those red eyes meet yours the trees are for sure shinning somewhat brighter.

the response for your affirmation it's a furrow between his eyebrows. his skin glowing a bit but that's not your absurd heart speaking, it's just his sweat.

"uhum" now you're messing with the grass. it estabilizes you. "yours is actually the only one that i drew and painted myself. the other ones i made with suna from the support course"

an ant crawled into your point finger.

"but don't tell them that." you whisper.

the ant made it to your pulse when you feel a literal body falling on top of you.

"you motherfucker! you are drenched-"

"that shitty little brain of yours-" his face on your neck. his words and breathing warming your whole body. you are exploding on the inside. how ironic.

"-and your stupid handmade keychains for the whole class" and then he lighly bites where your neck meets your shoulder.

his hands trails your arms, his fingers are burning pathways in your skin until they meet your hands and they interlock with your fingers. then he finally lifts his head and looks at you and what you're feeling is something words can't understand.

"i was gonna wait until graduation."

"tomorrow, you mean."

he bites your chin and you're so fucking certain you'll melt any second now. "because of that fucking tone i'm going to burn all of your little gifts."

you smile at him trying to match his damn audacity. his charm? his mind blowing handsomeness? "i'll murder you."

you blink and feel his breath on your neck again. "do it now, cupcake." then. his maddening warm and soft lips leaves a kiss under your earlobe. you close your eyes. "you have the power to."

"don't wait until tomorrow."

he lifts his head again and there's a smirk with a softness in the corner of it on his face. "or?"

"i might die." you whisper. it is serious to you. you need his lips on yours this very second. with his eyes on yours, telling you every adoration you thought about him for the last couple of months before going to bed, you think might. actually. die.

"who's the dramatic one now, brat?"

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Veritaserum Prompt Fic (Part 8)

(Do you ever just stare at something until you hate it? I've definitely done that with the chapter. Oof. You can read the nsfw, extended cut on AO3. Also, this is part 8, so if you haven't read the other parts, you might want to start over on AO3.)

---------

"I don't like this," Harry hissed at Hermione as he watched the aurors at the Ministry putting Draco in handcuffs.

She sighed, "I know you don't."

"They don't have to do that," he said, "He's not going to run." Draco's face twisted in pain as they wrenched his arms, "Careful," he growled, stepping toward them. "You don't have to hurt him-"

"Harry-" Hermione interrupted.

But Draco beat her to the punch, "It's alright," he said, his eyes holding Harry's. "It's alright," he added softly with a nod before the Aurors shoved him toward the doors where the holding cells were.

Instinctively he took a step to follow but Hermione grabbed his elbow, "Harry," she said in exasperation.

"I don't trust them," he said, turning around to glower at her. "I shouldn't have brought him-"

"Harry," she snapped, "Listen to me," she took his elbow and led him over to the side of the room. "You have no idea what I had to do to get us here, to get them to agree to giving him a trial at all, let alone to get them to give him a trial when he was a fugitive."

"But-"

"I have every precaution in place," she continued, "I have a solid case, and I have stellar record in the court."

"It's not you I don't trust," he protested, "it's the Ministry-"

(Read more below the cut)

She shook her head, "I know. But this is the only way and we both know it." He frowned and she continued, "You need to stop being irrational about this. I know that Draco Malfoy has always gotten under your skin and made you ignore your better judgement but you have to stop listening to him-"

"He's the reason we're here," he said bluntly. "I wanted to stay but he insisted I bring him back. If I hadn't listened to him we'd be eating lunch on the beach and I'd be ordering lemon trees,” he told her, heart twisting painfully at the thought.

She blinked at him then whispered, "Oh, Harry," in that soft, pitying way of hers like she'd just realized exactly what this was about. "You're in love with him."

He nodded miserably.

Hermione sighed and took his hand, "We're going to win."

"I hope you're right."

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

They were not going to win.

Harry could feel it in his gut, he could see it on the faces of the members of the Wizengamot as they heard testimonies, as they heard the cases both for and against Draco.

And Draco knew it, too. He sat next to Hermione, back ramrod straight, face carefully blank but Harry could see it in his eyes. The defeat, the acceptance.

When the speaker stood to read the sentencing, Harry's body coiled itself like a spring.

He read the list of charges against Draco and after each he pronounced, "We find the defendant, Draco Lucius Malfoy guilty."

Hermione sat with her jaw dropped in outrage and Harry wished that he could have been even half as surprised as she was at the outcome.

"For these crimes," the speaker continued, "The court sentences Draco Lucius Malfoy to a life sentence in Azkaban prison."

The court room erupted into a flurry of movement, cameras clicking and people talking as they made notes, the aurors started toward Draco and Harry knew he only had a matter of seconds before it was too late.

He stood and vaulted himself over the gate that kept the people watching the trial from those conducting it.

"Oy!" one of the aurors shouted at him but he ignored them and sprinted over to Draco.

"Harry-" Draco started.

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked.

"Of course,” he said without hesitation. “What-" Draco began but that was all he got out before Harry was grasping his elbow and apparating them out of the Ministry. The wards around the court room and ministry itself cracked and shattered like glass as he broke through them, imagining wrapping Draco in extra shields of protection as he did.

When he landed on the beach he was breathless, his body felt battered and sore but they weren't in that court anymore and the relief of being home was sharp and sweet.

"What did you do?" Draco gasped as he dropped to his knees next to him. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice tinged with panic. "Harry."

"Fine," he nodded. "Just winded."

"Then," Draco shoved him, "what. did. you. do?"

"What I had to," he panted, letting his head drop back in the sand as he tried to catch his breath and waited for the pain to subside. "I couldn't let them," he broke off, shaking his head and drawing in another breath, wincing as his rib cage expanded painfully.

"You-" Draco shook his head, "You complete and utter idiot! Take me back! You have to take me back," he said, looking around desperately.

"Never!" Harry protested, standing on wobbly legs. "I told you it wasn't fair. I told you they weren't going to give you a fair trial."

"Harry," the other man repeated, voice shaking as he reached out a trembling hand, "You can't."

"I can," he argued. "I literally just did."

"You have to take me back," Draco begged. "They'll never stop looking for me, they'll burn everything to the ground until they find me."

"They'll never find us here," he replied. "And if they do," he shrugged, "We'll go somewhere else. Hell, I'll start building it now and we'll have a place to take vacations."

"Do you hear yourself?" Draco asked, throwing his hands in the air. "Circe, Harry," he cursed. "What were you thinking?"

He stormed up toward the house knowing that Draco would follow, "What was I thinking? That I couldn't let you spend the rest of your life trapped in a dark, dingy cell with dementors sucking up any shred of joy you might ever think to feel!" Harry slammed the door open, "I was thinking that I couldn't imagine you trapped away from the sunlight, not when I've seen the way you soak up the sun on the beach. I was thinking that I couldn't let all of your gifts go to waste while you rotted away in a cell!" he hollered as he made his way to the bathroom and pulled out a pepper-up potion.

Draco was silent but Harry could feel the weight of Draco's eyes on him as he swallowed the pepper-up potion and ran himself a glass of water. Finally Draco said, "It's not that I'm not grateful, Harry. Salazar knows that I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban."

"Then why-"

"Think about it!" he exclaimed. "What kind of life are you giving yourself?"

"Don't I get a choice?" Harry asked, taking a step closer to him, "What about what I want?"

Draco shook his head, "You can't possibly want this! You are letting your compulsive need to save people ruin your life. Again."

The words sliced through Harry's core, gutting him. "That's not fair," he whispered.

"Life isn't fair!" he argued. "You know that better than most people. And you can't possibly want to spend the rest of your life away from your family and friends, away from the world you gave up everything to save."

"It's my choice," he replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't want you to play the martyr for me." Draco tugged at his hair in frustration, "I'm telling you that I'm not worth it!"

"I'm in love with you!" Harry finally shouted, all of the fear and adrenaline that he'd kept bottled up inside all morning exploded out of him.

The other man stared at him blankly for a long moment. "What?"

"I am in love with you," he said again.

He shook his head, "You stubborn, wonderful, perfect idiot," he whispered before he threw himself at Harry.

Their bodies and mouths crashed against one another, sharp teeth and tongues, and Harry clenched his fingers in Draco's shirt to drag him even closer. "Draco," he groaned into his mouth as his hands sought more of him, grasping desperately, tugging Draco's shirt from where it was tucked in his trousers so his fingers could slide along the smooth skin of Draco's back.

"Harry," he whimpered, like his name was a prayer. He tipped his head back and Harry's fingers dug into the flesh on his back as his lips and teeth covered Draco's jaw and neck. He arched into Harry, his fingers sliding into his hair as he held him close.

"Please," Harry begged into the soft, warm skin of Draco's neck.

Draco nodded, "Yes. Circe, yes. Harry," he breathed again and surely Harry had never heard his name before this moment because it had never sounded like that. It had never sounded like wonder, and desire, and acceptance before.

"There's no going back from this," Harry said, drawing back to search Draco's face. "You're mine from here on out," he said.

"And you're mine," Draco whispered, brushing his hand over Harry's cheek, thumb rubbing his temple.

"Yours," he promised, relief surging through him at the thought of belonging to the other man. "Yours," he whispered again, cupping Draco's face and kissing him softly, tenderly; pouring out all of the fear of loss, all of the longing, all of the things he'd kept trapped inside.

Draco drew back far enough to let them breathe and look at one another, "I hear you," he whispered.

A chill ran through Harry's entire body as he allowed the facade he'd built to protect himself dissolve, slipping off until there wasn't anything left. Willing Draco to see him, to know him.

"Harry," Draco breathed, his eyes searching for a long moment, "Mine," he whispered again, somehow still uncertain.

"Yours," he vowed, "From now until forever."

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

(If you enjoy smut and are 18+, you can read the rest of this chapter on AO3. If not, feel free to stop here! You won't miss any plot.)

[power-of-plot]

Pool day! Hcs.

I just realized i haven't been in a pool for over a damn year and a half .-. ... does this count as a spoiler? Bakugou is "developed" (his character) here. Also, i've written for him before but this ma first time posting it, tell me watcha think.

Warnings: Some cursing.

B A K U G O U

It takes you some convicing from you first since this type of activites just don't fit him that well, water is all happines and relaxation, he is living dynamite, or he used to be.

When he's "forced" to do some childish shit in a pool and sees there's no way of declining he lets out a somewhat exasperated sigh before giving green lights "Fine but next time i choose what we're gonna do , deal?"

Despite this not being his favorite, he's "angrily" joyful inside since whatever you do you'll spend time together, that's more than worth enough to bear anything for. 

He makes sure you got all you need like towels, goggles (wich he’d never use because ‘it looks fucking weird and his eyes are not going to fall off because of some water’) etc, don't mock him or call him a mom when he forces you to put on sunscreen before going into the pool or while he's applying it on your back.

When you give him a hand to put it on his back, he's surprinsigly calm, he even tells you his preferences in his own way. "Don't turn my back into a slice of bread with cream cheese. Done? Uh thanks.. i'm not blushing it's the fucking sun! THIS DAMN SUNSCREEN IS NOT WORKING."

He would ask if you know how to swim just in case before you go into the pool, how he acts around depends in your answer.

If you don't know how to (kinda my case) you're not going past the limit into the deep part unless he's strictly right next to you OR you have a donut floatie or a pool noodle, anything that doesn't depend on balance, he is not taking the risk of you falling off. "Do you rather being an embarrased 'little kid' or a drowned grown up?"

If you somehow slipped or went into the deep part.. the moment he hears water sloshing then sees you struggling to not sink, oh lord, he's gonna YEET himself right in propulsing with one almost-full power explosion, he doesn't give a fuck if it leaves a big black burn mark on the ground.

He's relaxed if you do know how to swim. He can drag you along if you push him into the pool or drop you in from his arms, you'd also play waterpolo or voleyball.

"DIE!" He had to pay in a public pool for a broken ball after one of his explosions turned it into pieces of rubber scattered all over the water. That’s just one of the times he literally exploded, the most remarkable would be when someone didn’t know where their eyes were looking and he casually scared them off.

He marks his territory. While chilling he'd either have an arm wrapped around you or have you resting on his lap with his hand holding yours, although not with the same potency due to the water the caramel-like scent of his sweat would still emanate from him.

If he's in a very good mood or you just have a way with words there's a chance you could end up "cuddling" in there. Him floating and you simply resting on his torso, clinging onto each other so you don't float apart. 

M I D O R I Y A

Give this dude an award for being the broccoli none of us would want to avoid, he gladly accepts when you suggest having a pool day! He’s fine with whatever you come up with, it means you’ll do something together, double win :D

He asks beforehand if you do know how to swim to know whether he should bring a floatie or not besides pool noodles because he likes them, he also brings a small extra sunscreen just in case you forget yours, when it comes to him reminding you to put it on he asks like a mom making sure you have seatbealt on “Wait, sunscreen?”

When he feels your hand touching his back he inmediately breathes in through his nose and tenses up, but when he turn around he has that adorable smile of shyness and a rosy color on his cheeks “T-thank you! I’m so sorry, i’m sort of shy!”

Izuku is a toe dipper you can’t change my mind! He holds out his leg then quickly dips his toe in to check the water temperature before slowly going in, if you don’t push him first, if you did, his face of feeling betrayal while having a coughing fit would be priceless

He’s alert if you get near the deep side and he’s not that close, another guy who would yeet right in if you don’t know how to swim, OFA enhaces his physical strenght, add the adrenaline of the moment, he could pull you out the water with one single arm.

He’s not rough at all, he wouldn’t push or drop you into the pool (unless you were the kind who likes it or asked him to), more like jump in with you, you’d definitely jump in holding hands or with you in his arms. He’d also have you on his shoulders or his back.

He looks like seaweed when he’s underwater.

You’d have a watergun fight! Believe me when i say he’s the personification of Terminator with that thing on his hands, he’s going to exterminate you until he has to re-fill his gun.

He’s alert on public pools, he’s not jealous he trusts you but he doesn’t like the idea of someone making you uncomfortable or looking at you on inproper ways. He’s rather affectionate than territorial, he’d put his arms over your shoulders and rest his head on the crook of your neck, you’d get some small pecks here and there.

When it’s time, he gets out the pool first so you don’t go through cold, he receives you with your towel open in his arms to wrap around you to your neck with a soft smile. 

T O D O R O K I

Another guy who’d be fine with whatever you like, you could invite him to sky dive and he’d be there falling limpily, holding your hand with a straight face despite he’s falling from dangerous heights.

You’re not going to a public pool on his guard, he’s going to use his father’s credit card to go into a private place, probably with a rooftop or an oversized pool where you can swim freely.

With his childhood privated from many pleasures it’s unlikely he has any floaties so he has to buy some, he buys a donut and a noodle, he likes to relax and float better than swimming around, as for you, he wants you to have freedom to swim around.

We saw him using no more than swim trunks while training at the pool in U.A but he seems like the kind who would wear something on top as well, like a short sleeved swimming t-shirt.

Even before learning to be okay with his left side he never minded the water temperature that much, he simply goes in with a small jump. Now the fun part is: you can ask him to warm the water up to your content, he’d hold you close while he’s irradiating heat, pretty relaxing if you ask me

(bruh that sounds good should i write a drabble about that? anon or not tell me lmao)

If you start drowning.. freaking Elsa from Frozen is coming to the rescue, he’s going to rush at you like that scene where she fleed from a castle by freezing her way through a river.

He’d create large water slides with his ice and again, have a straight face while he’s going down at great speeds, if you were not there that is, seeing just how happy he can make someone with his quirk and his mere prescence.. a genuine bright smile appears on his face.

If you pushed him into the pool he’d turn around and stare at you with an unreadable glance, as if saying “why?” with his eyes, he needs a hug! Would never drop or push you in, even when you ask him he’d use moderate strength, he rathers having you cling onto him resting over his back.

It’s just wholesome when he’s relaxing  on his donut and your next to him holding his hand or when he sitting on a stair of the pool with you resting on his shoulder, there are no words but you both enjoy it.

He doesn’t bring you your towel, he brings you to the towel. He carries you in his arms keeping you warm with his left side as he walks towards your stuff, he can hug you too so the towel doesn’t let any cold in.

What’s this, two post in the same week?! let’s see how much i can post in this week, i might post for AOT next :).

[yoditorian]

lacuna - part 9

din/reader

well shit guys,,,,this is the last one.

this has been a labour of love and i just want to say a huge huge thank you to everyone who’s commented and reblogged and sent me asks and even just lurked and read it. seriously, from the absolute bottom of my heart, thank you. i’d also love to extend a special thank you to @keeper0fthestars and @chatterbean for consistently cheering me on throughout this fic. and an extra extra special thank you to @bee-dameron for being the most incredible sounding board, and without whom this fic literally would not exist. this was really my first jump back into writing fic properly and i couldn’t be more grateful for the love its received. it might be the end for the main storyline, but it’s definitely not the end of this universe 💛

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 4.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, rebel is healing, din is having the worst time of his life (all of season 2), swears, yes i am referencing That Monologue

He can’t stop hearing it. 

How you pleaded with him, how you begged him to stay, how you cried when he left. Din’s sure it’s a sound that’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.

Din has been staring out at the swirling lights of hyperspace for hours when the kid clambers up into his lap, his stomach lurches when he notices three little green fingers curled around a corner of your old blanket. The kid leans over to frown at the second passenger seat. Empty.

“I know, buddy. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” His voice is wrecked, the sound of it so harsh through the modulator that even he flinches. 

Din’s still not completely sure that the child understands him, but his little ears droop down at the apology and he wraps himself up as best he can in your blanket. Five minutes and you’ve charmed the little thing. Din isn’t sure why he’s surprised, you did the same to him all those years ago. 

The kid settles back down to sleep in his lap, curled up in the thinning fabric, and one of Din’s gloves hits the floor before he even realises that he’s slipped it off. The wool is a little stiff with age under his fingers, but it’s been well loved. And been well loved on if his memory serves. He wonders if it smelt of him afterwards. If you spent nights curled up in it, trying to inhale the last memento you had of him before he saw you again, the same way he spent so many nights wallowing in his own memories. He used to wish he had something physical with him to keep close, the cruel irony of your forgotten blanket doesn’t go unnoticed now. 

Part of him wants to bring it back. A peace offering, maybe. He wants to let you get to know the kid better, to help him on his quest to find his home. Or maybe just to stay, like you asked. But he fucked it all up. You’d probably slam the door of your little home in his face now. Honestly? He’s pretty sure it’s the least he deserves. He wouldn’t be surprised if you pulled a blaster on him with all the ways he’s hurt you. 

It feels like grief. The way the sorrow settles on your chest, curling it’s cold hands around your lungs and squeezing. You hope it chokes you, if only so you don’t have to feel like this anymore. You curl up on the kitchen floor, the cold tile freezing through your clothes, and wonder if this is it.

Kes finds you there, hours after the door was slammed and the sun has set. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” You can’t help but ask, you can’t help but wonder. Because even through the pain and the silence and the arguments, you still love Din. Maybe you always will. But you’re not sure it matters anymore. Kes looks at you, confused, and you press on.

“I mean, I laid out how I feel so many times and all he ever did was push it away but- but I know that if he walked in that door right now I’d let him back in.” 

“I think that’s love, kiddo.” He sinks down to join you on the floor, and if the chill of the tile raises goosebumps on his arms, he doesn’t mention it. 

“Love is stupid,” You pause when he shoots you a look, “No offence to you and your ridiculously happy marriage, but this sucks.”

You sound like a child, you know that. Just like you know that things with Din were always going to end the way they have. You’ve always known you came second to his creed, so much so that you can’t even bring yourself to be angry about it anymore. The alternative is to cry until you lose your voice, so childish seems like the way to go.

“What?” You huff. Kes is watching you carefully, in that pensive way that he does when he’s about to call your bluff in sabacc and take the game. Like he always does. 

“I’m not sure you really think that.”

He’s right on the money yet again, the fucking asshole. 

A fresh wave of tears stings your eyes. thankful at least that Kes has found a spot on the floor to look at instead of turning those big sad eyes onto you. You’re not sure you could take it. It’s frustration at yourself, mostly, instead of just the heartbreak of being left behind so willingly. So angrily. What is it about you that made the idea of sticking around so repulsive, so disgusting, that he left without a second thought. You thought he loved you, you really did. But you’ve been wrong about things before. However much you hate it. 

“I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

“I know.” Kes’s eyes lift from the floor finally, settling uncertainly on yours. 

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I- I want to be close to you guys but,” You flounder for a moment, desperate to think up a reason, “I just can’t be here.”

He understands, you know he does. You’ve all lost enough people, physically and emotionally, to know when a place is no longer welcoming. And you do, genuinely, love the little house on the edge of their land. You love the way the sun hits through the kitchen window in the late afternoon, you love the way you can hear the birds in the trees when you wake in the morning, you love the way any of them can drop by anytime they want to. But it’ll always be the site of the last time you loved Din, the last time he kissed you. Ground zero of your relationship. If you could even call it that. 

“I’ll be alright. I’ve been without him before.”

You have, you’ve been without Din. You’ve spent years without hearing the comm you gave him so much as click. You’ll be alright. In time. 

Only, there were never arguments before. All those times you left, or he left, he’d never shouted at you the way he did. You’d never felt the rage he keeps so carefully locked away, not with you in the crosshairs anyway. It sends your stomach churning, remembering the way he denied you so easily. 

You eye the pouch of credits on the table, just visible over the top of Kes’s head. Why would he leave something like that behind? The Crest is falling apart, he’s got the kid to think about now, why would he forsake a payday for someone he’d so readily abandon.

The dam breaks, and your brave face along with it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Kes shuffles over to sit closer, to draw you into his arms and let you cry it out on his shoulder. So, in turn, you let yourself feel it. Properly. Sobbing until you’re half asleep, breath hitching every now and again, and the sun starts to rise. 

You don’t know why Din left the credits there, and it feels odd to think about using them when he’s the reason this house isn’t a home anymore. But he could never give you much, and despite everything you know he’s never been a heartless man intentionally, maybe this is his way of making up for that. A clean slate.

The first thing he thinks of as Din comes to, only seconds after the e-web cannon explodes in his face, is you. Of course it is. 

You with your feet up beside you on the passenger seat and the child in your arms, wrapped up and snoring softly. No idea of what was coming. It’s that image that stays at the forefront of his mind, even through the pain of being dragged across the ground into the almost safety of the destroyed cantina.

That’s the view he wants, regardless of however futile it is to realise that now. Regardless of the fact that he’s dying and you’re not here. You don’t even know. Maybe you wouldn’t care if you did. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

But he gave it up for what? For this? Denied himself and the kid safety and a life just for both of them to die on the grotty floor of the cantina on Nevarro. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he always has been, for refusing you at every turn, refusing to let himself give in and reassess and have the life he’s so desperately wanted with you for years now. Who is he, without his creed? 

Yours. He knows that now.

There’s something profoundly wrong about you not being there as the blood trickles down the back of his neck and soaks into his clothes. As he hands off the child to the people he’s come to think of as his friends and trusts them to do the one thing he can’t.

“Take him to Yavin,” He tells them, desperately, “Find the little house at the end of the farm track.” 

You’ll take care of the kid, despite everything. You’ll take him in without a question, in a heartbeat. The same way you so effortlessly ingrained Din into your life when you first met. Even if it was accidental on both sides.

Din can’t stop himself, as the IG unit lifts his helmet, from remembering the way you did the same. This feels so clinical, mechanical. There’s nothing of the warmth and reverence that had been in your touch. Even this close to death, it’s like his bones themselves are calling your name.

“What do you think?” Your voice echoes in the empty space. The smell of fresh sawdust is strong in your nose, but you don’t mind. It’s oddly comforting, as though the shop was built just for you. The sound of little footsteps pound over the upper floor and a messy mop of curls appears over the top of the railing.

“I love it. Can I live here too?” Poe grins cheekily.

“Your parents might have something to say about that, buddy.” 

He thunders down the stairs beside the little back office and comes to a skidding halt in front of you, kicking up a little dust in his wake. You catch him easily, whirling him around in a circle as he laughs. The way the sound fills the space starts to stitch the edges of your heart back together. Maybe this is what you need to do, fill a new space with light and laughter and the people you love. Somewhere to exist, somewhere to grow. The workshop seems like a good place to start.

A child of The Watch.

What does that even mean?

His covert, his family, it’s- it’s not a cult. It can’t be. The way she talked about it, like even the thought left a bad taste in her mouth, sends a shot of anger down his spine. He is not a religious zealot. But, would he know if he is?

Is he?

Din’s never had cause to doubt his creed, or his covert. They saved him, rescued and raised him. They taught him to fight and to protect and to provide for the covert. Foundlings are the future, right? Would he be less, maybe, to those born on Mandalore? To people like Bo-Katan who wear the armour from generations past, who fought to defend their homeland and their clans. Din doesn’t wear ancestral armour, but has he not defended his family with his life? Ancient way or not, it seems like the kind of thing that would be important in any kind of Mandalorian culture. Traditionalist or otherwise. 

No one has seen his face since he was a child. And yet, he still took off his helmet, every time, for you and believed he was breaking his creed. Sure, you never saw his face, but does that matter? Is it not the principal of the thing? Then there’s the glaring evidence that there are Mandalorians who can remove their helmets. What does that make him, if he’s neither followed the letter of the creed or whatever rules Bo-Katan has. 

With the kid safely tucked away and snoring in his little hammock, Din pulls the helmet off and glares at his distorted reflection in the curve of the visor. He can feel your hands on him like you’re there, smoothing over his shoulders and curling around his waist. And as all the tension melts from his body, he knows what you’d say. That he is himself. Din Djarin, and it’s up to him what he wants that to mean. Whether it includes Mandalorian or not. Whatever he wants to be is what he is and you’d never love him less for it.

Love him.

He scoffs at himself. There’s no way you feel like that about him now.

“Can you reach right up in that corner?” 

You’d let Poe pick the colour for the walls of the main attic space, and so he and his dad are flecked in bright orange paint as they swirl brushes over the wood they’d primed yesterday.

Kes has him on his shoulders, fully in charge of the high up sections as he’d so politely asked, while you and Shara are screwing together the fittings for the kitchen units. A pastel blue this time, also chosen by Poe. Although Shara had kindly guided him away from the neon purple cupboard doors that had caught his eye with a quick wink at you. Maybe giving a small child free reign over your interior decorating was a bad idea. But he’d proven to have quite an eye on some things. 

The four of you had travelled all the way to an inner rim market to find your furniture, deciding on a deep red fabric couch that fit all of you comfortably and takes a considerable amount of effort to rise from. It’s been pushed back against the half wall that hides the attic living space from the workshop floor. Your bedroom furniture is brand new as well, all light polished wood and soft bedding. The credits Din had abandoned had gone a long way, almost long enough that you can forget where they came from. Sometimes. 

It hits you again, cross legged on the floor as Shara hands you another piece to slot into place, that there should be an extra pair of hands. Pulling more pieces out of crates or rearranging the layout in the bedroom or hanging lampshades. It’s nice to be making this new house into a home with your family, but there’s still a gaping hole where there should be someone else. 

A warm hand settles on your knee, breaking your focus from where it’s settled at the top of the staircase. Shara. You turn to her with a smile, and blink back a wave of tears when she returns it. You have your family, right here, you don’t need him. You don’t need him.

“Get down!” Shara calls, just as a shadow looms over you.

Poe’s feet swing over your heads and he laughs when Shara just misses grabbing his ankle, Kes lifting him deftly out of the way at the last second. This is what your life is supposed to be, definitely. The sound of everybody else’s laughter lifts the weight off of your shoulders just enough for you to breathe, to laugh along with them. For a little while.

Din loses everything in a matter of moments. Everything.

Methodically searching through the ashes of the Razor Crest, of the only home he had left, is the final barrier between him and the guilt about the child. About Grogu. The kid’s become his, undeniably, and he couldn’t do the one thing a father is supposed to do. Gideon has him at his mercy, has Din at his mercy now. Whatever the Moff and Dr Pershing have in store, it’s not good. The kid might not even survive. 

All he can see is his little face, his little arms reaching out as the droid climbed higher and higher towards the cruiser. What kind of a father is he, to just let his son be taken from him? No man who would so willingly see the child in his care delivered to his doom deserves to be called such a thing.

Din kicks the dust at his feet in frustration, all too aware of the new eyes watching him. Grief is a difficult thing in and of itself, it’s even harder when it’s observed. He feels like an exhibit. Sure, the two of them stayed and defended the child without even being asked to, but that doesn’t mean he wants them sitting and watching as he sifts through the ruins of his life. 

Fitting, really, that the one way he always thought he would keep you in his life went up in flames, exploded in much the same way your relationship did. That was his fault too. 

But it’s all gone now. The Razor Crest, his home, Grogu’s bed, your old blanket. Grogu and you. Maybe for good, maybe this is his life now, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get either of you back. Maybe he’ll launch a rescue mission only to find his son dead and hitch a ride to Yavin only to be turned away at your door. Maybe that’s what he deserves. 

“Thanks!” You call as the couple stroll out of the main doors and into the sunshine, newly repaired pit droid trotting after them.

“Which one goes to this one again?” Poe catches your attention, waving the motor over his head. He’s sitting on the desk in the back office, little eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You’ve been teaching him small mechanic things here and there on his days with you. How to wire a basic console, how to program a droid, how a hyperdrive motivator works. You’d taken him out with you on a call once, so you could show him the different engine parts of a ship that his mother doesn’t treasure. Today, it’s hotwiring lessons.

Kes and Shara had pretended to disapprove when you asked them what they thought about it, and they still would if Poe was the one to bring it up. But the larger community on Yavin still sleeps far too lightly, still sleeps far too little. The kids are learning their history and their life skills, but alongside basic combat and strategy lessons. The older kids can enroll in weapons training and piloting lessons. The war will never fully leave this moon so long as it stands. 

“Which one do you think?” You ask, settling down into the chair with your datapad and a mountain of forms to fill out. Poe ponders for a moment, glancing between your expectant expression and the dead motor in his hands. 

“This one?” He touches the exposed wires together carefully, huffing when nothing happens. 

“No, wait! This one!” The little motor whirrs to life the moment the wires make contact, and subsequently dies again when he drops it to throw his arms up in celebration. You catch it before it can hit the floor and burst into pieces, your own smile wide enough to make your cheeks ache. 

You’re living. For the first time in years you’re living, without watching over your shoulder for the Empire, without wondering when you’ll see Din again. You’re spending time with your best friends’ kid and making a living as the town mechanic. You have regular customers and people who drop by just to say hi, and things don’t seem so bad anymore. Even though there’s a gap inside of you that aches and misses him, you’re starting to be at peace with it.

He doesn’t know why he was so stupid as to think the facial scan might work with the fucking helmet on. And now the terminal won’t stop beeping and he’s pretty sure people are looking over at him and there’s only one option left and- fuck it.

Din’s hands shake as he lifts the plastic helmet off, the habit of a usually much heavier one makes the movement almost too forceful, and he sets it down. 

This is wrong. It feels so wrong. The first time any living being has seen his face since he was a child and it’s a room full of Imperials. The organisation that took his parents from him, that massacred whole planets and drove his people underground, that you have spent your whole life fighting against. He feels sick.

It was supposed to be you. He’s thought about it a lot, since the first time you took him to that little house on Yavin. He envisioned standing in the bedroom, curtains thrown open to soak up the last of the afternoon sun, and you’d smile at him in that way you always did. He would pull you close to press his forehead against yours, he would take your hands and bring them up to close around the lip of his helmet. He’d tell you it was okay, and you’d lift it off together. You’d smile, maybe a stray tear would linger in the corner of your eye, and you’d finally get to see him. You’d trace your fingertips along his cheekbone and press a kiss on the little spot on his jaw where the hair doesn’t grow. You’d tell him you always thought he had brown eyes. He’d tell you you’re beautiful. And then he’d kiss you, and you’d let him. 

The terminal beeps again and Din pulls the drive from the port, just in time to turn and face an Imperial Officer. 

Your head is in an engine hatch when you hear one of the wide metal doors at the front of the shop creak open. 

“We just closed up, but you can swing by in the morning if it isn’t an emergency!” You call, and hope your voice carries to whoever is standing in your doorway. You don’t really have the time for a customer, this speeder repair is already a day late because you were watching Poe last night, but Yavin is a community. 

However long it took you to get used to after being back on the station, it’s almost like being a part of the rebellion again. Everybody works together to make things a little easier for everyone else. You hear a shuffle of footsteps, slowly edging closer to you, and you’re about to call out again when they say your name. 

When he says your name.

You hit your head on the hatch as you pull yourself out of it. 

“No.”

You can’t do this. You can’t. 

All the work you’ve done to piece your broken little heart back together starts to unravel, just seeing him standing in your workshop. Every staple and stitch and strip of tape loosens until there’s nothing left and that gap inside you, the one that sits right under your heart, starts to ache something fierce. 

How dare he.

How dare he think he can walk into the one place that you have, the one place in the whole galaxy that doesn’t stink of betrayal and heartache and him. How dare he think he can disturb the life you’ve begun to build without him, however much it hurt. There are nights where you don’t think of him now. Nights where you don’t wake in the middle of dreams of his touch and his voice and his kisses. And now he’s here and all of your work was for nothing. 

“Please-” 

“No. No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come back and undo everything. You can’t.” At least your voice is steadier than you feel, as you square your shoulders and plant your feet in a vain attempt to stay upright. Or to stop yourself running right back into his arms. 

“I know.”

No, that’s what breaks the final piece of your heart off. The heart that belongs to him anyway. It always has, even when you didn’t want it to. He sounds so broken.

“Did you leave the baby on the ship again?”

You don’t miss the way his shoulders tighten, just barely, or how his fingers twitch nervously. 

“The ship’s gone. So is- so is the kid,” Din takes a shuddering breath, “I lost everything.”

Everything? What does that even mean? Your stomach flips at the thought of what he might mean, that the kid is gone. You’re almost afraid to ask. And you hate the painful tug in your chest when his knees give out and he hits the concrete floor with a thud. There’ll be bruises in the morning.

“He’s with a Jedi, he’s with his people but-” He gestures vaguely, and you know what he means. You felt the same way every time he left you. If the kid’s a Jedi, he probably should be in the care of people who know what to do. But you can’t imagine how it must have felt to just hand the baby over. 

“He’s where he belongs.” You’re trying to stay cold, you really are. 

“Is he?” 

It’s hard to be cruel to a man who’s just given up his kid. To a man you love. 

He says your name again, softly, tearfully. The shudder of a sob ripples through his body and he heaves a deep breath at the same time you do. You can feel it creeping back, every uncertainty you had the day he walked out of your old house. Every bone in your body screams for you to reach out to him, to comfort him the way he should have comforted you when he left you crying for him on your kitchen floor. He can’t be here. You have to make him go. 

“Mando-”

“My name, please use my name.” He interrupts you, desperately. He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t hear you call him Mando. It never sounded right, not the way his real name does when you roll it around on your tongue. He needs to hear it.

“Din, you can’t stay.”

It’s so hard to hold steady, to keep your voice even, to not just throw it all away and gather him into your arms the way you want to. The way you need to. You were right, all those months ago, when you told Kes you’d take him right back if he walked through the door.

“You’re home, you know that? It’s you.” 

You say nothing, for fear your words will crack and give you away. 

“And- and every time I left or you left it just, nothing felt right. Not until we were together again, and it scared me. And I hurt you because of it, that’s my fault.” He sighs, defeated, but continues on when you stay silent.

“I’m so sorry, my love. I- it’s inexcusable. I don’t know how to- how to fix it. I don’t know if I can,” Din hangs his head in shame, “You should hate me. I do. I pushed you away and hurt you, when all I ever wanted was you. Just you.” 

It’s not enough to soothe the scars in your heart, the ones that settled deep and angry and split open time and time again. The ones he put there. But maybe there’s room to make a start.

“I don’t hate you,” You press on even as his head shoots up in surprise, “Against all my better judgement, I love you. Pretty sure I always have.”

It’s quiet for a long time. And you think this is when he tells you he’s not good enough for you, that he never will be, and he leaves for the very last time. You know you won’t see him again if he does, but he’ll take your heart with him anyways. 

“Cyar’ika.” He breaks the silence. Again. But it’s softer than the last time you were in this position. 

“You’ve called me that before.”

“I’ve called you that a lot of times, you were only awake once.”

“What does it mean?” You’re almost afraid to know the answer.

He lifts his hand to his shoulder, to a pauldron with an unusual skull welded to it, and detaches the mechanism. It clatters to the floor, but Din’s gaze remains firmly locked on yours. He does the same with the other and lifts the bandolier over his head. That too is abandoned on the ground.

“Sweetheart.” His vambraces, this time. One, two clang as they hit the floor, followed by his thigh plates.

“Darling.” The chest plate. 

He’s kneeling, surrounded by his armour, by the definition of the man you thought he was. All but the helmet. You love him, you can’t deny that. He’s baring himself to you in ways he never has before and you know what it means to him to do this.

“Beloved.”

Your brain stops working. You were so ready to shout and scream and punish him for what he put you through but suddenly none of it matters. Because he’s here, he’s finally here, and he’s telling you he loves you and that’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

“Take it off, please?”

And so you do.

Your feet are moving towards him before you can even register what they’re doing and you haul him up off of the ground. Din winds his arms around you automatically, without a second thought, until there isn’t a breath of air left between your bodies. No armour, no barriers, just two people who have done far too much damage to each other to ever know anyone else the way you do. 

His eyes. Oh god, his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled. Finally, finally.

“That’s my line.” He chuckles as you smile, as you feel that gap in your ribs quiet after all these years. An unfilled space, no longer.

Din kisses you, and you let him.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @altarsw @darnitdraco​ @greeneyedblondie44​

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Villain!Etho + Tango in 3rd life for the reqs?

3rd Life is feral Etho but my writing is actual villain Etho /lh

...

  One hot day, Etho and Tango travel to the desert to meet with Scar and discuss a deal. Scar himself is waiting for them at the top of the mountain, with Grian hovering nearby. “Welcome, you two.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me, Scar,” says Etho, watching Tango go to stand near Grian. “I’ll cut to the chase; we need sand. You have it. I’d like to trade for it.”

  “Ah, well, this is your lucky day! I can offer you one trip to the mining area and a no-lookie-at-enderman pass for a future visit to the desert, and in return, I want your lovely enchanted diamond boots.”

  Etho frowns. “Okay, that’s… really steep, actually. A friend gave these to me; isn’t there anything else you want?”

  Scar considers this. “Uh, no, not really. Tell you what: if you give me your enchanted diamond boots, I’ll throw in ten reputation points. They’re worth a lot, you know.”

  After a moment, Etho draws himself up. “Scar, I suggest you make your offer a little better. Or you might find yourself… alone.”

  At Etho’s hand signal, Tango grabs Grian in a headlock and holds his sword to his neck. Grian yelps and starts to struggle but Tango tightens his grip, causing him to fall still. 

  “Hey!” Scar snaps. “You can’t do that! Only red names can initiate conflict!” 

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” says Etho casually. “It’s pretty simple to me: I want sand and you don’t want me to put your only friend on a yellow life. It’d be stupid for either of us to deny each other.”

  “Scar!” Grian cries. “Just give him the sand! Our failed monopoly isn’t worth my life!”

  Scar hesitates, glancing from Grian to Etho. “How much sand do you need, exactly?”

  “Oh, it’s not about how much sand I need. What I really need is a special coupon that gives me free, irrevocable access to any natural resource in this desert.”

  “You’re crazy!” Scar bursts out. “That’s way too much! Best I can do is a coupon for sand, that’s it.”

  Etho sighs. “Really, Scar? You’ve been going round giving people coupons for everything under the sun but when I ask for this simple thing, you shut down. You say no.”

  “Because I don’t like it when people invade my home, threaten me and my ally, and demand stuff from me.”

  “You’re really angling to lose your only ally in the world huh?”   

  “You won’t do it,” Scar bluffs. “If you kill him, you lose your leverage.”

  “Seems to me that you lose more than me in that scenario,” Etho retorts. “You can’t patrol an entire desert by yourself. I can always sneak in and take as much sand as I need. But when Grian leaves, you really think anyone else will want to be your friend?”

  “I-I have friends!” says Scar defensively. 

  “No you don’t. You have people who accepted your flimsy offers of friendship because they didn’t want to get on your bad side. They’ll take any opportunity to be rid of you.” 

  Etho draws his sword. “Anyway, enough talking; it’s decision time. Are you going to make the wise decision or the stupid one?”

  Scar’s mouth opens and closes a few times, as his eyes again flicker from Etho to Grian and back again.

  Finally, he says, “I don’t believe you’ll kill him. If you do, THEN I’ll give you what you want.”

  “S-Scar!” Grian cries out. “No!” 

  Etho sighs and shakes his head, before turning to Grian. “I’m sorry, buddy. It’s not about the resources; it’s about the principle. I’m sure you understand.” 

  With that, he stabs Grian in the chest. 

  Centuries of existence in the universe has given him the knowledge and skills to be able to kill cleanly and in one shot, and that’s exactly what happens. Grian doesn’t even have time to make any kind of noise before he disappears, his inventory exploding around him.

Grian was slain by Etho

  Tango steps back, his face a blank mask. A week ago, he would have been horrified; making threats is one thing but actually following through is another. But Etho has made him see things differently. 

  Etho turns back to Scar, whose eyes are wide with shock, horror, and panic. “I hope you’re a bit more receptive now,” he says coldly, holding up his sword. “I’m not adverse to spilling more blood today.”

  Scar hurriedly writes Etho’s terms on a piece of paper and shakily gives it to him. Etho takes it with a smile, his eyes back to sparkling with their normal friendliness and energy. “Thanks, Scar. I’m sure we’ll stay friends for a LONG time, right?”

  “I-I-I…” Scar can’t quite manage to respond. 

  Grinning, Etho turns and walks away, followed by Tango. When they get to the base of the mountain, Tango starts to relax. 

  “What do you think Grian will do now?” he asks. “I mean… Scar can retaliate. Grian can’t. Do you think he’ll stay with Scar and try to get revenge?”

  “No, I think he’ll go straight to someone who’ll be able to protect him,” Etho responds. “Either Scott and Jimmy or Bdubs and Cleo. Whoever’ll take him.” 

  Tango hesitates. “Was it really necessary to kill him? You could have killed Scar instead.”

  “I don’t need to do that. The man literally jumped into a ravine by accident. He won’t last much longer.”

  “That’s… harsh.”

  “I don’t mean to be harsh. You know this world is about survival of the fittest, and Scar, as sad as it is, isn’t one of the fittest.” 

  Etho’s words send a chill down Tango’s spine but he ignores it. He chose this life with Etho, so he needs to get used to the way Etho is now. It should be easy, considering Etho just killed their friend less than five minutes ago and Tango feels nothing over it. 

  “Are we the fittest, Etho?” asks Tango eventually. “Do we have a chance to survive long enough to win?”

  Etho pauses.

  “We’ll see, Tango. We’ll see.” 

[hiddennerdworld]

When You’re Close to Me w/ Katsuki Bakugou

Warnings: some tears from characters, but still just a bunch of fluff

A/N: I love this song so much. (Go listen to it now). I feel like I didn’t do it justice but whatever. This has been in my drafts forever. Idk how it turned out but here we go. Also ik it’s kinda long, don’t come after me lmao

Are you here with me? Just looking out on the day of another dream

Bakugou just started to stir awake, the sun slowly starting to beam in the window. His blurry vision came to focus on the digital clock next to him that said 5:45 AM. He sighed and flopped his spiky head back onto his pillow. He opened his eyes again slightly as he turned to face his partner next to him. God, he still can’t believe how lucky he is. Every morning he gets a little wave of relief when he sees you by his side. He’s got a little smile on his face as he holds back from just cupping your cheek and pecking you on the forehead to tell you how much he loves you. But he thinks you’re so cute and peaceful when you sleep and knows you need rest otherwise you’ll be a little brat. Instead he wraps his arm around you, closes his eyes, and hopes he falls back asleep as his mind still focuses on you.

Well, you can’t get what you want, but you can get me. So let’s set out to sea.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby. I couldn’t get out of it. They needed all the help they could get.” Bakugou pleaded to you while holding your hands in his. It was your 3 year anniversary and he had to cancel your plans for the evening due to a villain attack downtown.

You sniffled and looked towards the ground, limply holding his hands back. “I understand. I knew what this was going to be like, being with a hero. It’s just hard sometimes you know? I miss the days where we would spend all day together. We would go to class together, eat lunch together, visit each other’s dorms whenever we wanted. I miss you, Katsuki.”

He pulled you into a hug where he ran his hand through your hair as you buried your face into his chest. “I know. I miss you so much. Being a hero is amazing, but it’s damn exhausting, especially not having you there with me. I love you, Y/N.” He said softly as he kissed the top of your head and then rested his chin on it.

“I love you too, ‘Suki. We’ll figure things out.”

“Of course, we will. We always do. You and I are a pretty kickass team if I do say so myself.”

“Huh, you really think so?” You looked up to meet his gaze. He just nodded and hummed in reply. “Well, I do too.” You then pulled him into a sweet kiss. Something you guys had done a thousand times, but it still brought butterflies to your stomach every time. You guys remained in each other’s arms for a bit longer, just swaying slightly despite the quiet.

“You know, I may have a way to bring back the old days.” Bakugou said breaking the silence.

You looked up at him. “Oh yea? Do tell, pretty boy.”

“Well..” he cleared his throat and continued in a low tone, “I was thinking maybe we could move in together. Like when we lived in the dorms, but with no Aizawa on our backs. It’s not perfect but at least I’ll get to see my beautiful idiot more often” You thought for a few seconds just staring into space. “Nevermind, it was stu-“.

“It’s perfect.” You kissed him again. “I would love that, babe.”

“Tch- well yea, of course you would it was a great idea.” He said with a shit-eating grin on his face after getting an ego boost from you agreeing with him. You just rolled your eyes back. “I would too, though.”

Cause you are my medicine when you’re close to me. When you’re close to me

Katsuki had no idea where he was. He was lying down on a bed, staring at the stark white ceiling as his vision began to clear. When he finally regained consciousness, he jolted up realizing he didn’t know was was going on. Then, you got up from your chair that was beside him in order to calm him down. He suddenly felt a sharp pain on his side. He winced and quickly put his hand on the wound.

“Oof, honey. I was trying to prevent you from doing that. Are you okay?” You said as you softly rubbed his arm.

He listened and lied back facing toward you this time. In a low, gruff voice he responded, “Yeah, I’m fine. Where the hell are we?”

“We’re in Recovery Girl’s office. After training today you ended up getting pretty beat up and passing out.”

It was all coming back to him. It was him versus Deku. One of their last days at UA and everyone was going all out. The two were moving quickly, jumping around each other trying to dodge and land hits. Eventually they started to wear down, but you know them, they will never stop. So after a while, Midoriya was able to use a little more than 10% of One for All, causing Bakugou to crash into a wall and fall to the ground. It wasn’t over yet though. He stumbled back up while doing his signature yelling. He was setting off explosions to fly up to his opponent and land a huge hit, but midway he just passed out and ended up falling on the concrete.

“Oh, yea I remember now. THAT FUCKING DEKU!! I’M GONNA MAKE HIM PAY!!” He yelled while trying to get out of bed. You then had to get up and set him back down.

“No, no, no. Katsuki, you can’t do anything right now. You need to just relax.” You said softly while pushing him back down by his shoulders.

“But I can’t lose to him! No fucking way!” He was still attempting to get up.

“You have to let it go, Suki.” You sat back down next to him and held his hands in yours. “I understand you wanting to get even, but you can’t right now. You’ve already gone way too far today.” You take a deep breath and continue, “You’ve been worrying me. Recently you’ve exhausted yourself so many times just in training alone. I get we’re close to graduating, but you need to relax, take it easy. Exerting so much energy in an emergency, I understand, but you’re just fighting ‘stupid’ Deku. You’re not going to be doing much hero work if you’re always in the hospital.” You sighed and put your head down, “I’m sorry, Suki. I just hate seeing you hurt.”

He knew what you meant. A couple months ago you were also injured badly and had to stay in the hospital for a few days after fighting a tough villain during your internship. He could barely take it. He couldn’t do anything except be by your side. All he wanted was to see you back to being the badass you usually are.

He sat up and rubbed his thumbs on your knuckles as you continued to hold hands. “Don’t worry about me, dumbass,” he said at almost a whisper, showing how ‘dumbass’ is just his way of saying he loves you. “I can take care of myself just fine…. But as much as I hate to admit it, I know you’re right.” He said with a smug grin which didn’t go away after you hit his shoulder. “Jeez, babe I’m just kidding. Point is you’re right. I can’t just go in ready to kill some people. I need to be smart about it. I need to be able to prove myself.”

“But you already have proven yourself. In more ways than one. You can show how great you are using methods that aren’t beating the shit out of Izuku, you know?”

“But those ways aren’t as fun.” You ended up slapping him on the shoulder again as he almost died laughing.

“Can you just promise me that you won’t end up in the nurses office again?”

“Alright, I’ll try my best.” He pulled you over and gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Thanks for putting up with me. I love you.”

“I love you too, even though you give me migraines.”

And surprisingly Bakugou kept up his promise, saving himself a whole lot of pain and saving yourself a whole lot of stress.

Just looking out for the day when you’re close to me.

The heat was rising as the your second year of UA was coming to a close. For the last half of the year Bakugou was slowly accepting his feelings for you and couldn’t hold back any longer. Somehow he tolerated you more than all the other extras. Hell, he even liked spending time with you and would go out of his way to do so. He didn’t want to spend the summer without you, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation. He couldn’t risk looking soft, but then again he “doesn’t care” what other extras think. It was a position he’d never been in before and he didn’t know how to handle it.

You were in the same boat. You may have had crushes before, but not like this, and definitely not like Bakugou. It didn’t take much to notice that he was somewhat nicer to you. He did schoolwork with you and didn’t smack you upside the head. He started choosing you as his partner more often in training. And never exploded when he got he annoyed with you. Maybe he was just nice to you because you were nice to him? You didn’t want to take things the wrong way and upset him. He was so predictably unpredictable. A literal ticking bomb, but somehow he was a lovable one.

The two of you were becoming unbearable. Your friends had all been planning to get together before summer break anyway, so they decided to do some meddling.

You had just joined the Bakusquad in the common room waiting to have some fun. You and Bakugou were sitting next to each other on the couch while Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima all were chilling on the floor around the coffee table. Meanwhile, Mina was nowhere to be found.

“Ugh! Where the hell is stupid Pinkie?! I wanna get this shit over with?”

“We love you too, Kacchan.” Kaminari replies and you can head Bakugou growl next to you and you try not to laugh. “I’m sure she’ll be here any sec. She had to grab something for the super special thing she planned.” He said while wiggling his eyebrows and Bakugou just rolled his eyes. Kirishima then kicked Kaminari and whisper-yelled “Dude!” Then he turned back to you guys and said with a nervous smile, “What he means is that Mina wanted this to be the perfect hang out before we have to go back home, so she has some stuff for us.”

“I sure do!” Mina yelled as she burst in the room with her arms up.

“tch- finally” Bakugou mumbled under his breath.

“We just gotta set up and then we can do the super special thing. Sero and Kirishima wanna help me grab some stuff from the kitchen? And then the rest of you can you check to make sure we have enough room in my dorm? Great!” She gave no one time to respond and everyone just got up and followed suit.

“Wait can I use the bathroom first?! I totally gotta take a whiz!” Kaminari whined.

“Yea, just hurry up! I wouldn’t want you to miss anything! Y/N and Bakugou we’ll all meet you up there in a sec!”

Sero, Kirishima, and Mina shuffled into the kitchen while Human Pikachu bolted (lol) to the bathroom. You and Bakugou weren’t as frantic as the others but you still went with it.

When you both arrived you found Mina’s room to be totally clean. “OI, PINKIE YOU’RE RO-!” Bakugou was on the way his way out but then you saw a flash of yellow and the door slamming on Bakugou’s face.

“What the-?” Bakugou tried to turned the handle but it didn’t budge. “I SWEAR IF YOUR PLAN WAS TO PRANK US IM GONNA BURN YOUR DUMBASSES ALL TO HELL!! NOW LET US OUT!!” He banged on the door, still attempting to get out, but all he heard back was some snickers and the sound of something being put in front of the door. The Pomeranian, now angered, was still aimlessly attacking the door until he heard you sigh and flop on the bed.

Sprawled out with your hands covering your face you muttered, “Ugh, I’m sorry.”

Bakugou stopped and turned around to face you being the most confused you’ve ever seen him, “Wait... you knew about this!” He started stomping over.

You quickly sat up anticipating something to happen. “No, no I didn’t. I just.. I think I know what this is about. I think this is all because of something I said to Mina.”

You move your eyes around the room afraid to make contact with the ruby eyes of the man standing above you.

“And what’s that?”

You sigh and fidget with your fingers, “Well, I may as well say it because I don’t think we’ll get out of here otherwise. I like you, Bakugou. I have for a bit now and didn’t know what to do. So I asked Mina, and this is definitely not how I wanted to handle it so I’m sorry and-“ you were interrupted by Bakugou tilting your head up which was staring at the floor while you rambled. He quickly leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You sat there wide-eyed. Not that it wasn’t good (it was), you were just thinking holy shit, my crush is on my face right now.

“Shit, I’m sorry I should’ve asked first. I just wanted to stop you because you don’t need to apologize. And I’m pretty sure you know this now but I like you too I guess. I don’t find you as annoying as I probably should. I haven’t for a while now.” He now was stood back up with a blush spread across his face and his one hand in this pocket with the other one rubbing the back of his neck. You stand up next to him and place your arms on his shoulders.

You giggle and say, “It’s okay. I enjoyed it. I was just surprised because I didn’t expect it from you. I actually think we should do it again.”

“Really?” He looked up as you nodded in response while biting your lip. You both then leaned in and kissed each other once more. It was definitely not as awkward as the first one. The kiss was sweet and passionate. When Bakugou feels something, he feels it wholeheartedly and it was evident in the way he was kissing you. He treated you as if you were an illusion that could shatter at any moment and he wasn’t going to take any of his time with you for granted.

You were suddenly interrupted by a loud banging on the door, “YOU LOVEBIRDS DONE IN THERE YET?!!! I ACTUALLY WANTED TO DO STUFF TONIGHT!!” Mina yelled through the door.

When you’re close to me

Bakugou woke up again but this time due to you booping his nose. “Good morning, Sunshine.” You whispered as you placed a kiss where had previously booped him. He just groaned and looked over to see the clock reading 8:30 AM. When he looked back your head was on his chest while you held onto him. He smiled a bit and pulled you in closer.

“Can we just stay like this all day, babe?” He said with his cheek pressed on the top of your head.

“Did I hear that correctly? Katsuki Bakugou said he wanted to stay in bed?! I must be dreaming still.”

“Tch, you’re such an idiot.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss onto the top of your head. “I love you though, you know that right?”

“Enough to help me make us some breakfast in bed?” You looked up at him with puppy eyes. He just sighed loudly and started to dramatically get out of bed. You soon followed and caught up to give him a hug as he grabbed stuff from the fridge. “I love you too, ‘Suki.”

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 47

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You try to adjust to your new life, but it doesn't go well.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, mild body horror

AO3

Bucky pulled you into his arms, and that’s where you stayed for the next several days. He only released you for bathroom breaks, and the first night when he tried to get you to sleep in his bed while he took the couch.

After he woke up to you crawling under his blanket to lie on top of him, Bucky gave up on trying to separate during sleep. You were thankful for that, because the night times were the worst. You held Bucky tight, that bone-deep fear of freezing in the night never quite going away even with your new fur.

Your features did not look any less jarring when you looked at them through the mirror rather than a flowing stream. You were less disturbing than a character in Cats, but only because you looked meaner. With sharp needle teeth and retractable claws, you were so careful of them around Bucky, even with his healing abilities. The bite you’d given him had already vanished, but your guilt was still very much present.

On good days, you could tolerate visitors. It was usually Wong who came, though sometimes it would be other wizards you didn’t recognize. They examined you only enough to determine that your time in the demon realm wasn’t going to kill you, as far as they could tell, but they had no idea if your demonic changes were permanent or temporary.

On good days, you would sit in one of the clock faces and soak up the sun, looking out at the sun-covered city and marveling at the lights at night.

On good days, Bucky was able to touch you. Everything about your body made you self-conscious and twitchy, but he was gentle and kind. Never angry or frustrated at your slow progress. He, above everyone else, understood how much patience was needed while you recovered from your time in the demon realm, not to mention the new changes to your body.

Bad days… Bad days were hard. They involved hiding, usually under the bed or up in the top floor among the rafters. Bucky was worried you’d fall, but once he saw how swift and graceful you were running along the beams, he stopped looking like he was on the verge of a heart attack.

On bad days, Bucky couldn’t touch you at all, and it was a blessing he didn’t have to. The bond was permanently disconnected, and you no longer had to be feed him or be fed upon. Bucky still had to obtain the energy that kept the demon part of him alive, but he supplemented with the potions the wizards gave him. You could smell the foul concoction even from across the loft, and it set your fur puffed up and on edge.

On bad days, you couldn’t tolerate Steve being anywhere in the loft. He’d come to visit after his recovery, and you were relieved to know there was no permanent damage from the Winter Soldier’s brutality. But when the demon side of you reared its head around Steve, he couldn’t stay. That part of you saw him as a threat, as competition, the prize being Bucky himself. It made you feel sick for hours afterwards, but Bucky was always patient and understanding.

On those days, the bad ones, the part of you that wasn’t entirely human had a stronger hold than the rest of you, and it treated everyone but Bucky like a hostile enemy. Those days were the worst, for both of you. Bucky couldn’t get close enough to offer you any comfort, and you couldn’t ask for it. You missed him so much it physically hurt, but when he approached, your body acted on instincts you didn’t understand, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running and hiding.

On a good day when you could be approached, Strange and Wong visited to conduct a round of new tests. Unlike the previous ones where nothing of interest had happened, it seemed that every instrument that touched you now either lit up like Times Square, or it simply exploded in their hands.

So much for being a magical dead battery.

Strange explained your “condition” and you tried to focus as best you could, still unable to talk and ask questions, even though you could technically write them down. Bucky asked plenty, keeping an eye on you in case you reacted unpredictably as you sometimes did. You were still a little too feral for Bucky to leave alone for long, a fact that was deeply shameful but you couldn’t do anything about. You prayed this wasn’t your new normal.

According to Strange, you were actually very gifted with magic, and all his previous tests had been wrong. Something to do with you suppressing your magic in your childhood—you didn’t really understand most of what he said—but he did know why you looked the way you did. In order to survive the harsh conditions of the demon realm, you’d absorbed some of the natural energy of the planet in order to “adapt.” Essentially, you’d become a pseudo-demon.

Strange was unsure if the changes were permanent, because this type of magic was incredibly advanced and should have been well beyond what a novice like you could achieve.

Bucky was handling the news better than you were, even though you becoming a demon had to be his worst nightmare. So when he looked at you as if he was scared you might break or vanish, you ignored the wizards in the room and melded yourself to Bucky’s side.

He didn’t move for a moment, but before you could pull away, Bucky put a hand around your shoulders and petted your hair. You sighed and melted into him further. He was as warm and solid as he always was, his earthy scent creating a familiar tingle in your stomach—

“Ahem.”

You looked up, blinking, having forgotten all about the wizards. Wong was giving you a frown that reminded you of a scolding schoolteacher, while Strange was trying to suppress an amused look.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Strange said as he stood from the couch. Wong followed him to the middle of the room where there was enough room to create a portal back to the Sanctum.

Strange’s innuendo was wasted; as soon as the wizards departed, that glimpse of your old self vanished, and you were back to hiding under the bed. You heard Bucky’s heavy sigh, but he didn’t say anything. He never did. He simply waited with saintly patience for you to eventually come out.

It didn’t hit you, how hard all of this was for him, until later that night.

You’d just woken from a nap to find the lights left off, the room dark and the snowy city glittering outside the clock face windows. You crawled out from under the bed and glanced around, ears perked when you couldn’t find Bucky in his usual spots. He wasn’t in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or in his study.

You craned your head back to look at the staircase spiraling around the elevator shaft, leading to the empty belfry. It was the last place to look.

Walking on your hands and feet, crouched over like an animal, you ascended the staircase on near-silent footsteps. The temperature dropped with each twist of the stairs, and you shivered despite your fur, still getting used to the late winter chill.

Pausing on the staircase, you peeked your head above the landing and froze at the sight of the bent figure. Wings draped along his back, his tail curled around his feet, Bucky sat on his haunches while staring at something in his hands.

It took you a minute to place the object, and when you remembered, it hit you like a train.

Bucky was holding an old, scruffy, stripped grey tabby. The animus. The thing that had bound you to him, and the last time he’d held it in his hands you’d nearly gone out of your mind with desire.

And now you felt… no different than you had before. The bond was gone, and the toy was just a toy.

Your ears folded back, your chest aching so deeply you could hardly breathe. Bucky didn’t appear any happier. Moonlight poured in front the old windows above his head, painting a lonely, melancholy picture.

Bucky pulled the toy against his chest, shoulders slumping forward, and he took a shaking breath. You froze, listening intently, and crushing guilt washed over you when his breathing hitched again.

Bucky was silently crying.

Your descent down the stairs would have felt like fleeing if you hadn’t been completely numb with horror. You had done this to Bucky. You’d driven him to hide his pain, only releasing it when he thought you wouldn’t know.

Tail between your legs, literally and mentally, you crawled into the bathroom and shut the door. Hesitating, you turned on the lights and rose to your feet to unwillingly look in the mirror. You’d tried to avoid it as much as you could, only catching glimpses in the window and reflective surfaces.

You looked the same as you had in the demon realm. Grey-blue fur, cat-like ears and tail, curled horns, and slitted eyes. Only now did you realize something so ridiculously obvious: you looked a lot like Monster.

You shut your eyes and tried to push the thought of your hobgoblin out of your mind. No one could find him, not at your apartment and not at the Sanctum, and you couldn’t bear the thought you’d never see him again. Strange critter or not, he was family, and you couldn’t imagine losing him on top of everything else.

Gazing back at your reflection, tail twitching behind you, you concentrated. You had no idea what you were doing and that was obvious when after several minutes, nothing happened. You gripped the sink, nails scratching against the metal as you tried harder. You were not going to live out the rest of your life as a goddamn animal.

Try as you might, nothing continued to happen, and you sagged against the sink in defeat. You couldn’t live like this, half-wild and unpredictable. Bucky was a patient as he could be, and it occurred to you he would continue to try to help you no matter the cost to himself. That’s just how he was, selfless to the point of self-destructive.

That, more than anything, got you moving. Thinking of Bucky and what Strange had told you earlier that day, you came up with an idea. It was asking too much of Bucky, but if it worked, maybe he’d be able to forgive you.

Bucky found you sitting cross-legged on the bed when he came down the stairs. His brows rose, clearly not expecting you to be waiting for him, and his gaze dropped to the notepad and marker in your hands. On good days, you could communicate with writing. In a twist of irony, it was the same pad and marker you’d used to talk to him when the heigore had torn up your vocal cords and the sorcerers had silenced you to recover.

As soon as he appeared on the staircase you started scribbling, and as he approached, you scooted over and patted the covers next to you. When Bucky sat, a couple feet from you with careful movements, you held up the pad. He read it.

“You need… a favor from me?”

You nodded, wrote again, and underlined it twice.

“A big favor.”

You nodded again, sharp nails curling around the pad as you tried to quell your nerves.

“Okay.” He eyed you carefully. “What kind of favor?”

You couldn’t blame Bucky for his cautiousness. Besides communicating the bare minimum to him, this was the first time you’d held any kind of conversation since he’d rescued you from a very literal Hell. Guilt continued to twist up your insides, but you pressed onward.

The next words you wrote took far longer than it should have, considering there were only two. You stared at them for a moment, your fur slowly puffing up. Bucky was watching, his expression growing more concerned by the second.

“Hey, you can tell me, whatever it is,” Bucky said. He moved a little closer, and you flinched. His expression was immediately regretful, but it wasn’t what he thought at all.

Before you lost your nerve, you held up the pad and quickly looked away.

Bucky didn’t repeat the words you’d scrawled on the paper. Instead, he gave out a croaked, “What?”

You pulled back the pad and stared down at the words you’d written.

Fuck me.

Next Chapter

[beatleszeppelin]

If I asked you to stay, would you?

Summary: After a tough case, Reid stays home from work. You have to check on him. He looks sick, so you take him to the doctor, and it’s your job to take care of him.

Category: Sick Fic

Warnings/Includes: First couple paragraphs are sad criminal minds things, but feel free to skip that, and mention of puke

Word count: 4k

Written in (gender neutral) second person.

The piercing cold, and slight drizzle falling out of the dark sky around, adding insult to injury. Spirits were low, as rain washed a child's blood from the dirt. The case had not gone ideally; two lives lost, and the team just had to walk away.

 A somber walk back to the cars freezing water hitting, stinging his face. Reid’s nose was red, clothes and hair sopping wet, freezing. He got to the back seat of the car, he pulled his knees up, and let his head fall onto his hands. Morgan and JJ waited outside the car, giving the kid a minute alone. 

The drive back was quiet, JJ glanced back ever so often hoping Reid had fallen asleep, but every time she’d look back she would see his head pressed against the window, eyes darting with every opposing car. The street lights passed over, illuminating his face, and a shine lingering in his eyes. She’d put a comforting hand on Reid’s knee, like a mother would on a long car ride.

In damp clothes he finished his reports, and finally left the office at two. 

He entered the subway tunnels, light coming out as a path marker. The eerie feeling that comes with two a.m. is in the lingering, on the streets, in tiled subway tunnels, and definitely present in anything the moonlight touches. There is a surprising amount of people on the subway for being so early. A man in the corner, held a bag with paper towels in it. A little farther along was an old bag lady. Finding someone normal to sit near was going to be too much to ask for, until he saw a woman, sleeping and seemingly destitute, a baby squirming on her lap. He waved. And she returned it.

So he sat. He was talking to her, and playing with her. Doing magic has always gotten him far with kids, except when he was one. She squealed as he pulled a coin from behind her ear and he laughed along. She laughed at the look of him smiling, and when he leaned in to make funny faces at her, her giggle turned into a cough. He patted her back a little bit, to quiet her barking cough, trying to not wake the baby’s mother. If you’re tired enough to fall asleep on those plastic seats, then any sleep you could get must be a blessing.

His stop neared, and he pulled 20 dollars from his wallet and slipped it into the woman's purse. He also shook her shoulder to wake her up, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave the baby unattended.

“Sorry for waking you, I just thought…” He said nervously, and awkwardly smiled and waved goodbye to the baby.

“Thank you,” she whispered. And she started to pat the back of her daughter.

He got off the metro happy, and walked the rest of the way to his apartment, the yellow glowing street lights making the falling rain sparkle as it fell to the earth.

He got home and wanted to get some sleep before he had to get up and go to work at nine. He didn’t want to shower and change, he could do that in the morning. He threw a soft blanket across the couch. He sat down, and kicked his converses off of his heels. He laid down, wet hair hitting the pillow. 

***

You walked up the stairs to his apartment. You have twenty minutes until your lunch break is over, but when Garcia told you to check on Reid you knew you had to.  He has a tendency to shut everyone out; say he’s fine when he’s actually far from. He would say he’s fine until he literally exploded. 

You walked past apartment #19, #20, past an empty coffee cup on the floor, #21, then you ran back, picked up the coffee cup, and threw it away at the end of the hall. Apartment #23, you knocked. “Hey Reid, you there?” You tried knocking harder. “Hey kid let me in!” You were about to pound the door down like you were the cops, but you heard a click. Reid unlocked the door, and squinted at you.

“Why,” he cleared his throat a little, “Why are you here?” 

“Hi, it’s 1 in the afternoon, you didn’t show up to work today, and apparently you guys 

had a particularly bad case last night.”

“It’s one?” he said walking back into his apartment, to go find a clock.

You walked in, and straight to his kitchen, to wash your hands after touching that coffee cup. 

“You didn’t purposely not come in today?” 

“No, you’re insistent knocking woke me up.”

“So, you’re wearing your clothes from yesterday?”

“Yeah, I’d gotten home late last night, or actually early this morning, I guess.”

“Are you feeling okay?” You looked at his hair that was sweaty and stuck to his forehead.

“Kinda tired, I guess, but I’m fine.” He said staring off, trying to focus on how he actually felt.

“Here let me feel your forehead.” You reached up and pressed your hand to his face. You couldn’t tell, because you had just washed your hands rendering them cold. You ran your hand through his hair, and kissed his forehead. It was warm. His face turned red, and it came in splotches.

“I think you’re a bit warm. Would you like to try to get to the doctor before they close walk-ins?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Then I’m going to go back to the library. I hope you find a good excuse for not going to work today,”  You said, but couldn’t make a move for the door.

“If I don’t go, will you leave?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You look really red, your face felt pretty warm, you slept in your wet clothes last night, and you may try to mask the fact that chills have been making you vibrate in front of me, but there is no way your not sick, no matter how many times you tell me you’re fine.”

“Okay, but I am fine.” He said, arms crossed, before heading to his bedroom to get dressed.

You waited in his apartment, absentmindedly flipped through some of his books. There were stacks of books everywhere; every spot you could fit a book, there was one. Two stacks of books were towered on his coffee table. On top of one was The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath, you hadn’t read it since high school, but you remember it being forward, and a bit unnerving.

Reid’s door opened, startling you. He walked out wearing a striped shirt and a sweater, with his signature mismatched socks and Converse. He looked comfortable, and very childlike.

“Are you ready?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I’ll grab my keys.”

“You drive?” You ask, never having seen him drive, you just assumed he didn’t or didn’t know how. How could you assume there was something that Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t know how to do.

You followed him down stairs to the parking garage, to a 65’ Volvo. “This is your car?” You asked.

“Yeah?”

“It’s so cool, I did not picture you driving something like this.” You didn’t picture him driving a cool older car, but you also didn’t picture him wearing mismatched socks, or dressing up for Halloween every year without fail. At this point nothing he did would surprise you.

“You didn’t picture me driving something cool? So, you don’t think I’m cool?”

“Well now I think you're cool, I mean after seeing this car.”

He pressed the volume button to turn on the radio, Tchaikovsky, the universe is restored. It was a ten minute-ish drive to the doctors. He signed in at the front desk, and you went to sit down. There were two seats under a window that you chose. The dark green vinyl was hot from the sun, but it was the only two isolated seats that you could see, other than the two girls that had the seats leaning on the wall. One of the girls had her hand under the other's skirt, and were kissing, very passionately. Hope one of them isn’t sick. You picked up one of the magazines next to you to avert your eyes. Home decorating, not the best option, but the bright colors and Pinterest mom’s will definitely keep you occupied.

Reid walked over to you and sat down, you could see him looking at the girls in the corner, and his face had bright red splotches on his cheeks. “Hey, are you into this?”

“What? No!” he said in a high pitched voice, like that of one of the chipmunks in Alvin and the Chipmunks. “Then why is your face bright red?”

“Maybe because the seats under the window are hot, and you shouldn’t be touching those magazines. They are one of the grossest things in here. Actually, the pen used at the front desk is, it has 46000 times more germs than the average toilet seat. That’s why I bring my own.”

You set the magazine down. “Hey is your face warm, you're still bright red?”

He looked over at you, shrugged at you and did his little awkward smile, and looked back down at the ground, head resting on his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

“Spencer, Spencer Reid!” A woman yelled from the doorway. 

Reid smiled and waved as he stood up.

“Wait, do I come in with you, or should I stay out here and see if I can join a thruple with those two?” He grabbed your wrist, seeing as to not touch your contaminated magazine hand, and helped you up to follow him in.

You guys walked back and the NP asked him to take his shoes off to step on the scale, he stepped up, a lime green sock and one purple striped sock now showing. “153 pounds,” the nurse said.

“Now stand over here so we can get your height,” You picked up his shoes for him, as she guided you across the hall to mark his height. He stood, back against the wall, “Okay, stand up straight.” He rolled his shoulders back and tilted his chin up. “6 foot 1 and ¼ inches”.

You passed his shoes back to him, following the nurse to one of the rooms in the back. You got to sit in one of the chairs that mom’s would sit in and talk for their kids. He hopped up on the bench, with a crinkle of the paper.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said, right before the nurse left the room.

Reid scooted back against the wall, letting his head fall back. You looked over at him, his face still looking flush, and his eyes were closed as he sat there. 

A knock on the door interrupted your observation, but made Reid sit up, attention now focused on the man. “Hi, I’m Dr. Bradman. What brings you in today?”

“I don’t…” Reid said looking over to you.

“His face has been a bit flushed, and he may have a low fever,” You said for him. “Oh, and he was out in the rain and cold last night, I don’t know if that would do anything.”

Reid piped up to say “Actually, being in the rain and cold doesn’t affect whether you will get sick or not. Being exhausted, stressed, under emotional duress, and having allergies with symptoms pertaining to nose and throat are the main reasons people get sick. Other than catching if from someone who is contagious.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” The doctor said, sitting down on a chair with wheels. 

Reid awkwardly smiled, looking down at his hands.

The doctor took Reid’s temperature, asked him a couple questions, and left for a couple minutes. 

You and Spencer sat in the room for a couple moments in silence, he was looking sicker by the moment. And after a while of silence, his head resting on the wall, eyes shut, the doctor walked back in.

“It looks like you are sick, your temperature was raised a bit, and the redness on your nose and cheeks is a common symptom of sixth disease.”

“Wait, that’s roseola, right?” You asked.

“No, that’s only for children under the age of three.” Reid said, slightly perplexed.

“Well yes, but it can occasionally affect adults who’ve never contracted it as a child.”

Reid’s shoulders dropped, “How long will it last?”

“It should clear up in the next three to five days.”

“Okay.”

“You can take medicine to reduce the fever, and stay hydrated.”

You two left the office, but not without teasing him on the way out. “I once babysat a kid that had sixth disease. He was up all night crying, do you need me to babysit you?”

“No! Just because I have a baby disease doesn’t mean I’m a baby” He crossed his arms on the walk back to the car.

“Do you want me to drive, so you can get some rest?” You asked, holding a hand out for his keys.

“Is this another joke?” He pushed his eyebrows together, and cocked his head slightly.

“No; no it’s not.”

“Can you drive a stick?” 

“Uh yeah, actually. I had a truck that was manual in high school.”

He gave an impressed nod and passed his keys over.

On the way home he laid his head against the cool glass of the window. His breath, making water bead up and fall. You walked him up to his apartment, but before you left you wanted to make sure he’d be okay.

“Do you have a thermometer? I just want to see what your temperature is before I leave you.” 

He walked away to his bathroom and came back with a thermometer sticking out of the side of his mouth. He was pouting, you don’t know if it was because you made him check his temperature or if he just felt sick. You pulled the stick out of his mouth after hearing the beep.

“100.3” You put your hands on his face, burning. “Do you want me to stay here for a little bit?”

“You don’t have to…” He said and raised his shoulders to shrug. “I know I don’t have to, but do you want me to? It would be no trouble.” You said walking to his kitchen to wash the thermometer.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“I would like you to stay, please.”

“Okay, why don’t you go to bed and try to rest, and I’ll run to the store and get some food for dinner.”

He nodded, “How long will you be gone?” Reid’s voice broke.

“Not too long, I should be back before you wake up, but if you need me just call me.”

“M’kay.”

You walked out of his apartment, down the stairs, running your fingers across the banister. Should you grab some clothes in case you need to spend the night? Yeah, might as well run home and get the car before going to the grocery store.

At the store you pick up some soup, popcorn to eat while watching a movie, cough medicine, ibuprofen (for the fever), and you couldn’t find any Gatorade, so you bought Pedialyte (I mean it’s the same stuff, and this is a baby disease). You also got a few other things you weren’t sure he had, and headed back.

When you twisted the key into the lock is when you started to hear some slight coughing and some whines in between. So, you put the soup on the stove, and went in to check on him. His face was covered in little red spots that trailed down into his shirt; he was asleep and his hands were balled up into fists by his face. Sweat stuck his bangs to his face, and every cough made him subconsciously whimper. 

Reid was asleep in front of you, looking like a baby. If people didn’t think he was a baby before, if only they saw him now. It’s hard not being able to help him, other than just letting him sleep, but when he wakes up he’ll feel a whole lot worse, so why not prolong the contentment here. 

You decided to go tend to the food, while he slept. In a few minutes though, you heard him get up out of bed and a door slam. You walked over to his couch, leaning on the arm rest waiting for him to come out. A couple moments went by and you were still standing there. If he came out now, it would be like you were just standing there staring at his door waiting for him, which is exactly what you are doing. You went around the couch and sat down, moving the pillows from how he had slept on them that morning. You picked up a book from the top of one stack, and opened it, but his door swung open. Reid stood there, in the doorframe, the sleeves of his shirt pulled down over his hands, his head hung low, and tear streaks down his face. His voice wobbled when he said “I threw up.”

“Are you okay, what do you need?” You asked, looking toward the giant toddler.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Let me check your fever.”

He nodded. You walked over to the kitchen to where you had left the thermometer, and while you’re in there you turn the heat off of the soup. You don’t think he wants it right now.

He puts the thermometer in his mouth and stares at you with puppy dog eyes until it beeps. He takes it out and hands it to you without reading it. “102.4!” You rush over to get some medicine, and a mug to put water in. “Here take this, baby. You must be miserable.”

He closed his eyes and gave a labored smile. Taking the medicine made him wince as he swallowed.

“Why don’t I run you a cool bath, to see if we can get your fever down faster?”

“‘Kay,” he started walking back to his room, stopping to brace himself on the wall.

You wrapped your arm around him, guiding him to his bathroom. You two stood awkwardly for a couple seconds not knowing what the first move was gonna be, but you sat him down on the toilet to wait for the water to fill. You ran the bath with lukewarm water, not hot, but not uncomfortably cold. Reid sat on his toilet, knees hugged to his chest, and his face and body were sweaty. 

You turned off the tap and looked at him quizzically. Reid quickly stood up to usher you out, but got a head rush and had to lean against a wall. You walked to the doorway and waited for his next move. He tried taking his shirt off, but only got one arm out; on the second arm his wrist got stuck on the sleeve. He flailed his arm for a second, before giving up and frustratedly slumping against the wall. You walked over to him, pulled his shirt over his head, and helped pick him up. You put your arms around his waist and pulled him up with little to no help from him. You two stood there for a second, holding Spencer; all of his weight leaned into you as you held him. He was shaking.

You helped him sit on the edge of the tub, and asked “How do we do this?”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” He looked up at you with his big brown eyes.

“Absolutely.”

You helped wiggle him out of his pajama pants, and left him sitting in hot pink briefs. Then, turning around, you heard a little splash of him kicking his legs over, and then a slosh of water displacement.

“Okay, you’re good,” he whispered.

You turned back around and bent down next to the tub. He leaned his head on the edge of the bathtub and you folded up a hand towel and shoved it under for him to use as a pillow. You scooted back, and reached for a washcloth off of his counter. A small stack of them fell on top of you. You picked one up, that hadn’t touched the ground, and ran it under some cold water. After squeezing it out, you sat on the back of the tub, and dabbed it across Spencer’s forehead. He leaned his head against your thigh and looked up at you. You looked down at him, “If I knew I was staying here, I’d have run you a bubble bath.”

He smiled; you could tell his fever was going down a bit. Seeing him without clothes on, showed you just how much of his body was covered in little red splotches. They ran from his cheeks, down his chest, and stopped a little lower than his protruding hip bones. 

A few moments of you silently dabbing his face was interrupted by a coughing attack, leaving Spence shaking a bit. 

“Laying back may not be the best thing for a cough, why don’t we finish up in here so we can sit on the couch, maybe watch a movie or something?”

He nodded.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, it’s wet already from the washcloth,” you handed him the washcloth, and picked up the mug he drank water out of earlier.

“Yes please.” He placed the washcloth over his eyes and you dunked the mug in his bath water. You poured it over his head as he leaned back.

“Where’s your shampoo?”

He leaned forward and handed you the bottle. Johnson’s cotton touch 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash.

“You use 2 in 1 baby shampoo?” 

“It’s for sensitive skin.”

“It’s for babies.”

“If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”

“Can we at least buy you some conditioner some time?” You asked, giving him a mohawk with baby soap.

“Sure,” He said, defeated.

You pour the cup over his head again, rinsing his hair clean of soap. You handed him his towel from behind the door, and walked out, leaving the door open a little and sitting on his bed in the next room in case he needed you. In a minute he walked out in pajama pants with little cowboys on them, and a robe. 

You got up, went to his bathroom and brought out a comb. “Sit,” You scolded.

He sat on the edge of his bed, you behind him brushing his hair.

Once you were satisfied with the style, you linked arms with him and went out to the living room. He started moving the books and things off of his coffee table, while you went to go make popcorn. 

You came back with a box of saltines, a bowl of popcorn, and a bottle of pedialyte with a straw in it.

“Is this another joke?” he asked reading the label.

“No, they were out of the other stuff.”

You sat down, handing him the box of crackers. His laptop was open on the coffee table, and he threw a blanket across the both of you to share. 

“What are we going to watch?”

“Star Trek” he said and pressed the spacebar to play it.

“You’ll like it,” he said and put his head on your shoulder. “Hey, thanks for staying with me today.” 

“It’s no problem, I like hanging out with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and eventually we will need to buy you some conditioner.”

“It’s a date,” he said and snuggled closer to you.

You played with his hair until he fell asleep on your lap, leaving you watching Star Trek all night, but you do like it now.

[purple-phantoms]

Happiest Place on Earth

Modern!Reggie Peters x Gender-Neutral!Reader, Luke Patterson x Alex Mercer

Based off of: #95 from my bucket list, Spend the whole day at Magic Kingdom

A/N: This was requested by @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic ! This is mostly going to be based off of research and memory. I’ve been to Magic Kingdom before, but only when I was 7 so I barely remember anything. In school a couple years ago I used to plan out which hotel I was going to stay in and which rides I wanted to go on lol. It’s such a shame that the pandemic had to hit. Also I’m basing this off of Disney World in Florida because I’m more familiar with that one. This is super long and not great, but hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n, Alex, Luke, and Reggie spend the day at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Y/n and Reggie stay together while Luke and Alex pair up. Both groups try to hide their relationships from the other, until everything magically unfolds.

Masterlist

For reference, if you’ve never been to Disney World and have no idea what the rides are, I’m including links to pictures I used to write this.

For “Peter Pan’s Flight”: Youtube video, Google Images link

For “Be Our Guest”: Disney World website, Pinterest image

For “Pirates of the Caribbean”: Youtube video

For “Splash Mountain”: TikTok from Pinterest, Youtube video

The warm sun rose on the concrete. Thousands of people lined up outside the gates to purchase their tickets for the giant themepark. Them and the boys waited anxiously. They were just about to get to buy their tickets but there was a giant family of 7 in front of them. It felt like years before they called the next people. It felt like centuries before they were allowed to enter the paradise. The four of them split up into pairs; Alex and Luke, and Y/n and Reggie. They wanted to go their separate ways and go on all the rides possible and occasionally meet up to get food and relax.

The first stop for y/n and Reggie was to Cinderella’s castle for pictures. Reggie dragged them by the hand to get as close to the castle, pushing past a lot of people in the process. In their bag was a polaroid camera. It probably wasn’t the best idea to bring something like that to a theme park where it could easily be misplaced or stolen, but memories, right? Y/n took pictures of Reggie first. He did some poses both facing away from the castle and facing the castle. Next was y/n’s turn. Now, y/n was smart. They bought some Disney related things way before the trip. They bought Mickey Mouse earrings and ears for their outfit. Y/n did the same as Reggie and took pictures facing away and towards the castle.

Next stop was to It’s a Small World in Fantasyland. Y/n and Reggie sat in the boat together and swayed to the music as they started moving in the ride. The animatronics were cool but really creepy at the same time. “What if one of those just exploded like in a sci-fi movie,” y/n laughed. Most times y/n was capable of correctly anticipating what would come next in a ride. They could tell that this was just a chill ride, but it’s always fun to imagine the unlikely.

“If that happens, you should just snatch one of them up, and then we just have to run,” Reggie smiled as they laughed. Y/n and Reggie were always the ones in the group who thought that way. Obviously, they wouldn’t actually do that, but that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be cool if they did.

Next they went to Peter Pan’s flight. Peter Pan had always been one of Reggie’s favorite characters because of his youth. Obviously before getting in line y/n had to take a picture of Reggie. God, he was gorgeous.

The wait was longer than what they had expected but it was worth it. The scenery was a beautiful sight. When they finally got to the end of the line, they gingerly entered their cart. The ride was chill like the one they had been on before. Reggie kissed y/n on the cheek before laying his head on y/n’s shoulder as they travelled through Neverland. All the animatronics looked so life-like and accurate to the movie. It would be crazy not to take just a few pictures.

The pair got off the ride and went on to the next one, then the next one, until they got hungry. Reggie texted Luke and Alex to find a place to meet up. They decided on the Be Our Guest restaurant. Once they all arrived, they felt underdressed. The restaurant looked exactly how you’d expect it to if you were living in the castle. The walls and tiles were yellow and blue, and the ceiling was painted with a renaissance-like picture. 

“You guys seriously couldn’t have picked a more low-key place to eat?” Luke grumbled. This kind of thing had never been his style. He “hated” talking about the Disney princesses, he said they were too “feminine” for him.

“We came for the vibe, not the reality, loser,” Alex said. Reggie and y/n shook their heads. Sitting down for a little bit was quite refreshing. All 4 of them ate all the food they ordered, and it was a lot. But hey, they need their energy! 

They sat in a little silence as they waited for their bill to arrive. They were all ready to go on more rides, but also ready for a nap. It’s too bad they were only spending the day there. A kick to the foot knocked y/n out of their daydream. “Ow,” they shouted.

“Oh sorry,” Alex said. “Me and Luke are going to be right back.” Y/n and Reggie looked at each other and laughed.

“Reggie, get your friends,” y/n laughed. Alex and Luke had been like this for a while now, and it was a little weird.

“I think they just went to take pictures,” Reggie shrugged. Y/n laughed.

“Yeah, of each other’s lips,” y/n said. Alex and Luke being a couple was always a theory that y/n and Reggie would talk about. After all, most times movie nights are with a group of people, not just with one person. Well it’s not like y/n and Reggie could speak on that either. They didn’t want Alex and Reggie to know about their relationship because they just wanted to keep it to themselves. 

Then the couple pair came back. Alex looked completely normal while Luke’s shirt was super wrinkled.... like as if someone was grabbing at it.

“So where did you two go,” y/n asked with a smirk. Bothering Alex when he’s flustered was always a funny sight. He would never be able to say a single thing without chuckling or running his fingers through his hair.

“We uh-” Luke had to pause to think. “We went to go find a map.” Then he pulled one out of his back pocket, which he totally had way before. Le-let’s go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride,” He stuttered.

“Thought you don’t like that stuff,” Reggie smiled.

“Well now I do,” Luke said as he grabbed his stuff.

The walk to Adventureland was long, but funny. Reggie couldn’t stop talking about that one time he dressed up as Jack Sparrow for y/n’s costume party last year. The same costume party where y/n and Reggie expressed their feelings for each other. The same costume party where they purposely hid in the closet so that nobody would know that they were officially together. The same costume party that nobody knew the full story about. “Guys, it literally was like 7 minutes in heaven,” Reggie beamed. “I felt like I could’ve gotten married right there.”

“Hey Reggie, do you remember how we agreed to not talk about that party,” y/n lied. They never had an actual agreement. Y/n just thought that neither of them would get close to exposing the truth.

“No, y/n,” Alex put his hand up. “I want to hear this one.” Y/n gave Reggie the look, hoping he’d understand and stop talking. He didn’t.

“Are you and this person still together,” Luke asked. Stop egging him on!!

“Obviously,” Reggie smirked as he put his arm around them. 

��WHAT!” Alex and Luke yelled at the same time.

“I knew it, I knew it!” Alex cheered. 

“Can you guys shut up?” Y/n grumbled.

“Yeah, are you guys going to get on the ride,” the operator asked. Woops.

“My bad, y/n,” Reggie whispered. 

“It’s fine,” y/n said.

“It’s not fine,” Luke yelled. “This is huge, why didn’t you tell us?”

“You know what, Luke,” y/n turned around to face him. “In this ride there are probably real skeletons being used as props. If you don’t leave me alone I will donate yours to this ride when you die.” Luke sat back in his seat and fell silent. Saying things like that always worked with the guys. 

When they got to the battle part, Reggie reached to hold y/n’s hand in his. Y/n squeezed his. They weren’t mad at him, they already knew Reggie was an airhead. This would have happened one way or another.

The four of them decided to go on Splash Mountain next. Y/n did this on purpose. They knew none of the boys knew that they’d get splashed on the ride. Perfect payback.

“Luke and Alex, I think you guys should sit in the front for this one,” y/n smiled.

“Why,” Alex asked.

“What, you don’t want to be the first ones to see everything,” y/n said sarcastically. The two boys shrugged in response. 

They got into the raft with Luke and Alex sitting in the front and Reggie and y/n sitting right behind them. “So why are they sitting in the front,” Reggie whispered to them.

“It’s so that they’ll get splashed the most,” y/n laughed. And they did. On the first drop, they were moving their soaking wet hair out of the way of their eyes and screaming profanities. It didn’t help that there were little kids on the raft with parents yelling back at them to stop cursing. Y/n and Reggie sat back and laughed as their friends got soaked.

Luke and Alex were mad when they got off the ride and saw that y/n and Reggie were completely dry. “Y/n you did this on purpose,” Alex shouted.

“Yeah, I did,” y/n laughed. “So when were you guys going to tell us that you were dating?”

Alex and Luke’s jaws looked like they were going to hit the floor. “How did you know?” Alex asked

“You guys literally left us to go make out,” Reggie pointed out.

“Riiiiight,” Luke blushed.

“Yeah, so Reggie and I are going to go do ‘official couple’ things like go find Mickey and Minnie,” y/n smiled. “Let’s go, Reg.” 

Taglist:

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[awhilde]

stupid

pairings: kaeya (genshin impact) x reader

genre(s): just pure fluff! 

warnings: swearing and minor (tiny) mentions of death. also, it would be advised to play the game ‘genshin impact’ up past adventure rank 10 because there are a few spoilers (?) and mentions of specific scenes. 

word count: 2.6k words

synopsis: in which you can’t stand the stupid ice man that seems to trail after your every move, infuriating with every word that falls from his lips, every curve of his mouth and every tilt of his head. the pure annoyance he gifts you makes your chest ache in exhaustion. i mean, that is the sole reason why your heart is pumping overdrive, right?  

author’s note: this is just a really quick, cheesy and plotless oneshot that i decided to write in under an hour, i think? if i’m being honest, i just wanted to see what my page would look like with something published, but please enjoy regardless! god i’m simping for kaeya even though genshin is literally not an otome game what ?? gave them the right to make him look so good??

a harmless tune twinkles in the city’s atmosphere, sorrowful tales hidden behind the cheer of a folk song and the strum of a harp

you listen, leaning against an open window, letting the gentle breeze tousle your hair behind your ears, drinking in the refreshing sensation of the wind kissing your closed eyes and exposed face. the suffocating atmosphere of the library leaves you as you daydream with the hum of the melody and lose yourself in its rhythm

  the scent of the storm last night taunts your mind of a nostalgic memory, easing the growing beast of worry in your heart

  the thought reminds you of the cause of such worry and you sigh reluctantly, knowing the pile of research notes by your desk wouldn’t sign themselves as you wasted time by this pocket of air, but your limbs are frozen, leisurely leaning against the frame of the window. you allow for time to flow unrestricted past your consciousness for there might not be another opportunity in the near future when you could relax as you did now

  life couldn’t possibly be contained within stress and work. you’d combust if this was the prevailing knowledge, collapsing from overworking your body or perhaps even dying from high blood pressure in your late 20’s which crept closer as time went by

where had your teenage years gone? the thrill of adventure and death?

“something on your mind, name?”

your eyes snap open, body whisking around to face the man that had managed to sneak up to your side without your notice. you recognise the presence beside you long before your eyes had laid upon their figure for they had been your partner in crime for far too long for you not to adapt to his chilly atmosphere

at least he was nice to be around in summer

kaeya, that infuriating ice man that had insisted on growing closer towards you despite the only connection you two shared being the fact that jean enjoyed tormenting you and placing the two of you together in missions

he had made his way to your right, contrasting your position as he leaned his back against the wall whilst you leaned your front torso out the window. suddenly the wind was nothing compared to him. with his arms crossed at his front, he gives you a side-long glance and smirks at your expression

huffing you turn away. “what do you want now, kaeya?” you ask

“what is with this hostility?” he shoots back. “don’t tell me i actually surprised you by being here.”

 your silence was enough of an answer for him to brighten. “wait, for real?”

you groan, cheek in your palm as you continue to close your eyes. “go away, kaeya, if you’re just here to make fun of me. go bother someone else, hasn’t there been a traveller of sorts that’s appeared recently?”

kaeya hums. “yeah, what about them?”

“go send them on a wild goose chase or something. didn’t you do that to the other one that passed by?” this time, you steal a peak at him through one eye. despite this being a small movement, kaeya’s immediately chases your eye.

ah, there’s that stupid sneer of his that you couldn’t stand. the sight was as familiar as the sun’s touch having seen it everywhere; after freezing jean’s feet to the ground when she got “too boring”, when he’d freeze the walls of your office in order to chase you out of the room and when he’d won that stupid game in that one stupid festival when they’d finished a mission early, turning with that exact sneer, his eyes steady and wild on yours as he handed you the first prize gift, not failing to bow as he presented the toy to you. that stupid pink bunny still sat somewhere in your room, not treasured but simply looked after. it wasn’t a significant item to be cherished after all

“i already did.” he had been saying when you zoned out. “i told them there was a mysterious treasure and sent them off. that little thing they had with them was especially keen on getting her small hands on whatever it was. shame there was nothing there to begin with, just another plan to draw out the futoi rats but i would have liked to see what that little thing could do with immense power. eat exotic foods, maybe?”

his eyes dart back to yours when he didn’t receive the response he expected; silence, and turns to face you. your eyes had gone glassy whilst in the process of reminiscing and he knew you were no longer in the present time. he sighs and stands

you catch the movement and snap back to reality, blinking before narrowing your eyes at his stupid face. “you have a look in your eyes.” you observe hesitantly

“and you weren’t paying attention to anything i said.” he retorts. he leans forward with his arms still crossed as if attempting to examine you further. the proximity startles you and you take a step back on instinct

the action makes him raise an eyebrow. “you’re also surprisingly quiet and grumpy today.”

wow you both are so good at stating the very obvious

it was true, despite hating his guts you couldn’t deny the spark of chemistry between the both of him whether it be dancing on the battlefield or even the snarky banter that he oddly seemed to enjoy. in an attempt to cover up where you had lacked, you face the window again. for some reason, it was easier to talk to him when you weren’t confronted with his stupid face. “oh? aren’t you glad i haven’t remarked on that stupid eyepatch you wear yet? unless, of course, you agree completely with what i say about it which, y’know, is the objective truth. it couldn’t possibly have been inherited. and its ugly.”

“nope! just as the title of being a pirate has been passed down in my family generation, so has the need to wear an eyepatch.” he cheerfully responds. “nice try, name, but i can still tell that you’re feeling down. you gonna tell me what it is or are we gonna continue this act until you grow bore of it?”

you sigh, caught in your façade that you had sub-consciously put up as a defense mechanism. not that he had no know what it was. something stupid in your stomach explodes with warmth at his prying, but you can’t hate it. that same stupid thing brings you to face him again and you regret it as soon as your eyes meet

he had stepped closer, close enough for you to feel his chill through the fabric of your clothes, close enough to see the fur on his attire rustle from the breeze by the window, his hair tousling also, close enough for your eyes to become captivated from his

well, his one eye

singular

eye

you chuckle slightly, the sound bubbling from the back of your throat until its pouring out without limit. you bend over, still giggling and the force makes you stumble. but its hilarious, does he wink or blink? omg imagine if he seductively winks but it just looks like he’s well, blinking

kaeya is taken back by your giggles but his incredulous stare doesn’t manage to stop the endless wave of laughter that causes tears to form at your eye, and your cheeks to begin to ache. it would hurt his reputation severely if he’d attempt to cheekily wink only to have the receiver no clue on what he was doing

god, you can’t believe you love this stupid boy

your laughter halts almost immediately

 …

love?

you don’t love him

why would you even consider that you liked him? he was a major pain in the ass, always bothering you when you worked, always messing around, always teasing you

right, you had just been so caught up in your laughter that it convinced your mind that the endorphins that had been released was due to kaeya, but it wasn’t. you don’t feel that way about him, you had just found his appearance hilarious

right

kaeya raises another eyebrow at you. “right, are you feeling okay? maybe we should ask jean for you to take a break.” he mumbles the last part as if it was an after thought but you hear it anyways

you turn away from him and begin walking back to your office. you knew he would follow after you and he does, his footsteps echoing your own until he is walking beside you, synced in your movements. “i’m not even that busy, stop exaggerating.” you step is bouncier, your fit of laughter at fault for your raised mood

“maybe not but you’re certainly boring.”

“your idea of fun is literally drinking with dilluc and making jean mad. maybe you shouldn’t be the one telling me if i’m boring?”

“so you’re not gonna deny it?’

“i like to think i take every one of my flaws into my stride. it would be even more embarrassing if someone didn’t know how much they sucked. like say, didn’t know how stupid they looked with an eyepatch?” you stick out your tongue at him and pulled down your eye. “pirate headass.”

he laughs as if you said something funny, but along the way you laugh with him

the sound of your laughs merging together, fuelling each other on, sound like music to your ears, a clearer tune than the only floating around the city, prettier than the twinkle of bells and bird song. it sounded familiar, like home, like watching rain dance on a windowpane, like heating your hands on a warm drink

“good to know your only insult of me is my eyepatch.” he says after your chuckles die

“and how is that a good thing?”

he sneaks a glance at you before looking start forward

“it means i must look practically perfect in your eyes, save for my apparently odd fashion sense. careful, name, or you’ll somehow manage to confess to me without your own knowledge.”

you splutter as he finishes, for some reason feeling defensive. “what the fuck do you mean by that?”

“well, you’re complimenting me, no? every other aspect of me are too good to insult?” the pair of you approach the doors to your office and his face lights up, mind clearly departing his last thought. “ah! we’re here. wait, why are we here again?” despite his words, he steps forward to enter your room, neither stopping to check if he had your permission nor to see if you were going insideyou narrowly miss the door as you unfreeze and dash in after him

he had already made his way to the back corner of the room, observing the shelf you had placed beside your desk. the shelves contained items that you held dear to you, the pair of earrings your aunt had gifted you before her demise, a book that you particularly enjoyed when you were younger, a stick figure of an old cartoon mascot back when you were only a child and so much more. it aided in providing you a relief of stress in your times of need. they were delicate and of upmost importance, items you placed dangerously close to your heart. but for some reason, you didn’t mind that kaeya were looking at them now  

you knew he wouldn’t break them, he wouldn’t be in such a high position of the knights if he was clumsy

instead, your mind travels back in time to what he had said so carelessly before he had entered the room

complimenting him? how absolutely ridiculous. saying his eyepatch made him look uglier was by no means a compliment, not even a twisted one. sure, it may infer that without it he would look much better, but this didn’t mean you would find him attractive without it, what a delusion. and in truth, kaeya treated it as if you were being serious which you weren’t, really. it wasn’t as ugly as you made it sound, you actually thought he suited it quite well.

wait a minute, what were you saying? perhaps kaeya had simply wanted to use reverse psychology on you and twist your very thoughts

well, he almost succeeded, you’ll give him that

“oh? what is this?”

his voice brings you back to reality and you realise with a start that you recognised the thing he was holding in his hand, the source of his question and the reason why the room appeared so much hotter than it had been before

in his hand, he held that stupid pink bunny

his eyes search yours in question, that stupid, stupid sneer on his face once more. it was clear he expected an answer, but you gave him none, instead staring him down with your eyes, feeling hot on your cheeks

“i think i remember this plushy, wasn’t it-“

your limbs move before your mind registers them, arm reaching out and activating your element, anemo, and calling upon the power to have your treasure returned to you

the green appears circling green whisps around the pink fur, growing clearer in appearance every passing millisecond before the entire toy is succumbed with the air

a small explosion follows after the orb, zapping kaeya’s hand, causing him to lose his gentle hold

the bunny falls to the ground, millimetres away from the carpet when you pull it towards you with your anemo  

when it finally enters your grasp, you wrap both arms around the bunny and draw it towards your heart, angling your body defensively, hiding it from his stare. “don’t say a single thing.” you warn him, but you know he wouldn’t ever leave you alone now

his eyes stare down at the palm that had been holding the toy before looking back up at you. “you just… used your anemo on me.”

“i did.”

his shell-shocked expression withdraws on his face, a small smile on his lips that was neither the shit-eating grin that he usually wore nor the stupid sneer. it looked sincere. and like he came to a sudden realisation. like something was confirmed

you open your mouth to say more, deny more perhaps yet you wouldn’t know what would come out of your mouth at that moment for your door bursts open, you and kaeya reacting immediately with your respective elements in hands, you only using one as you continue to hug the stuffed toy. an oddly familiar figure appears at the door, clad in white and with bright blonde hair. after the unknown individual, a small human floats after them. at the sight of the two, kaeya relaxes which prompts you to do so as well. ah, now you realised where you had seen them before, they were the iconic traveller

“what are you doing here?” kaeya asks for you. something in his tone is guarded

the small creature, paimon as you remember, speaks first. “we’ve come to ask for a hint! you said you’d help us solve riddles, remember? for the super cool, super wicked sword?” her small head turns to you as if acknowledging you for the first time. “oh, were we interrupting something?”

you raise an eyebrow. “nice to meet you too, i’m name. how did you find this place?”

paimon shrugs. “a knight told us that if we couldn’t find kaeya, we should check in this room.”

those words made the warm icky feeling in your chest expand. you clear your throat as you sense both kaeya’s and paimon’s eyes on you, the traveller oddly not saying a word and staring off into the distance. as subtly as you could, you place the toy behind your back and down on another shelf, reminding yourself to relocate it once whatever kaeya was planning at had finished

“well, show us the riddle then.” you say, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in your chest when kaeya joins the circle the five of you made, surrounding the item in the traveller’s hand and, you cursed, far too close to your right

your arm grazes one another as you shift closer for a better look

but you swallow the feeling deep down and look up to meet the traveller’s eyes. “well, i have a clue what this could mean.” you say, contrasting all the pacing thoughts in your head, casting aside the want to kick the two intruders from your room, to confront kaeya with the emotions you’ve been feeling around him, to possibly cry at the overwhelming truth of it all, that you did love him

but they became only thoughts, visible only in your mind

this world wasn’t suit for romance, not when there was a dragon terrorising the city, not when the gods were angry, not when you hadn’t confirmed if kaeya feels the same way

so you bury your newfound feelings, smiling gently at the traveller as you share what you knew with them, ignoring the present sensation of kaeya by your side, hoping that by the time you had collected yourself, you would be able to hide these foreign feelings

from his stupid face

[harry-hollands]

selcouth // harry holland // 1

chapter 1: sunshine after the storm

story summary: Harry was used to living in his brothers’ shadows. Tom was the actor and Sam was the cook and musician. He was used to being second best and genuinely gave up on finding someone who could love him for him. Someone who could believe that Harry wasn’t second best. His mindset changes however, when he meets you. The sunshine to cast away all of the shadows.

chapter summary: harry finds his life a whole light brighter

pairing: harry holland x reader

warnings: none? maybe a few swears, slightly fluffy, moody harry,

word count: 1.6k

It was a bitter winter day, the brooding clouds seemed to match Harry’s mood. Ready to explode at any given moment in time. Why was Harry annoyed might you ask? Maybe because there was a nauseating reminder in front of him about how painfully single he was.

The heat was on full blast at the Holland-Osterfield-Barret residence, and a fire was blazing in the fireplace, but it wasn’t quite enough to fight off the bitter chills. Almost everyone was coupled up. Even Harrison, Harry’s go-to when he got sick of third-wheeling the long-term couples had someone to hold. 

“Harry? You alright there mate?” Came the concerned voice of Tom, who unknowingly, and unintentionally, made the twenty-three-year-old more agitated than he already was.

Harry scoffed but nodded. “M’fine. I just don’t need to be reminded of how tragically single I am while you all are cuddled up.” The boy reminded sharply, slightly glaring at the pathetic looks Nadia and Elysia held upon their faces, something Harry instantly regretted when he noticed both of his brother’s shared a threatening scowl at him, a silent appeal to conclude his nasty behavior.

Sora Tanaka, Haz’s girlfriend of eight months, and the only one brave enough to test the waters of Harry’s testiness, gave a genuine smile to the aspiring photographer. “Harry, maybe I could introduce you to one of my best friends. She’s probably one of the most genuine people I know, and I truly do think this could be what you might need right now.” 

Harry gently considered Sora’s words. Out of all of his friend’s significant others, Sora was probably his favorite. Maybe it was because she grew up in Hawaii, where everyone was laid back, maybe it was because Sora didn’t give a rat’s ass about what people thought of her, or maybe because she was the youngest in the group besides Paddy. Either way, Sora’s offer was one that caught the boys’ attention.

“Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. You want to introduce Harry to one of your mates? Willingly?” Harrison stated astonished, knowing exactly how protective his girlfriend got when it came to any of her close friends and family.

“Is it honestly that surprising? Your best friend needs change in his life, and all of you aren’t exactly helping with what he needs.”

“And how do you know what he needs? Are you Harry?” Tom piped up, eyebrows raised at Sora’s subtle accusation.

“I don’t know what he needs, but I sure as hell know that you shouldn’t bring someone so painfully single on a double date!” Sora retaliated, her tone becoming sharper and more defensive.

As hilarious as the whole encounter was, watching Sora give Harry’s older brother a verbal beatdown, he knew that he should probably put an end to it before anything could escalate. It seemed Harrison and Nadia shared the same idea, as they all exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement that they had let Tom and Sora go at it for way too long.

The sound of feet pattering down the stairs was heard, and along with it an alluring melody. Sora sharply cut off the argument she was dominating Tom at, as she keened her senses to the voice coming from Paddy’s phone.

“Who are you talking to mate?” Sam questioned curiously, as faint hints of the song were heard through the now awkward silence. 

Paddy had been upstairs talking to Y/N, an American exchange student he had met while exploring LAMDA. Paddy had decided he wanted to follow in Tom and Harrison in the acting department, and after he had graduated from the BRIT School, he immediately applied to Haz’s alma mater. (Harrison still had to thank Paddy for introducing him to Sora at a function that Tom had been unable to attend.)

“Oh...uh...Hamilton’s Instagram page is live right now. I was talking to my friend, but she had to go due to Hamilton rehearsals, so now I’m just watching them. This whole week is ensemble training. The current cast members are going to step down soon so they have to make sure the ensemble is ready to take over.” Paddy explained before exiting the stream and looking over at Sora.

“Oh Y/N says hi, and that you don’t have to pick her up. Aiyana is more than willing to.” Paddy relayed, but immediately narrowed his eyes at Sora’s mischievous smirk on her face. The younger boy sighed exasperatedly before asking the question he didn’t want the answer to. 

“What are you planning?”

“It’s nothing! I’m just thinking that Harry should accompany me! Besides, I should introduce you to Y/N! She’s so fucking talented, that I’m still in shock that she hasn’t been discovered yet!” Sora exclaimed, shooting Harry a suggestive smirk.

At the immediate mention of Y/N, Elysia shot up from her position on Sam’s lap, which in turn, startled the man, and an immediate slur of sorry’s were exchanged. “Wait. Wait. Wait. Are we talking about the same Y/N? Y/N L/N right?”

Sora turned to Elysia and nodded enthusiastically. “The very one!” The American exclaimed before a look of confusion crossed her features. “Wait, how do you know Y/N?” 

Elysia shyly giggled before recalling her first encounter with the unreserved female. “I believe it was Y/N’s first week in London and I met her at a theatre cast party. One of my cousins attends LAMDA, and is friends with her. Anyway, she invited me to the party, and it was so chaotic! I loved it. Y/N was teaching us some American party games, and then we started doing improv. Let me tell you, that girl is hilarious and I love her, and her energy.”

Harry cleared his throat, and finally, the attention was on him. “I mean, I’m down to go with you. What time are you supposed to pick her up?” He asked curiously, glancing at his phone for the time, which read 6:19 pm. 

Sora also glanced at her phone before placing her attention on the youngest Holland. “Is she done now?”

Paddy unlocked his phone and glanced down at Hamilton’s Instagram page before nodding. 

“Yeah. Looks like they just ended the stream. Mind if I tag along? Y/N/N forgot her winter coat in my car today, and the forecast claimed that it should be thirty degrees out.” Paddy responded before shrugging on his winter coat and boots. 

Harry’s face melted into a concerned frown. “Who forgets their winter coat on one of the coldest nights of the year?” The boy stood up from his spot in one of the love seats, and shrugged on his winter coat, Sora following suit. 

Paddy shrugged. “Y/N was in a rush to go. Today was the first day of dress rehearsals, and her hair wasn’t cooperating. When it finally did, she was extremely late, and almost didn’t make it inside the building in time.”

Sora shook her head. “Or maybe because she’s still not used to England weather? I mean Y/N, our other friend Aiyana, and I all grew up in Hawaii. All we know is the sun, sand, and ocean.”

“Ok, I just texted her. Y/N said to hurry because she’s waiting outside, and she swears she’s going to die of hypothermia. Oh! And she’s cool with coming back here if that’s what you were planning Sor.” Paddy piped in after typing something on his phone.

Harry and Paddy clambered into the car, with Sora in the driver’s seat. The car filled with gentle chatter, mainly from Harry asking a little more about Y/N, Paddy denying Harry a picture of what she looked like, and Sora cackling at Harry’s shocked expression of his younger brother denying him the ability to see what Y/N even looked like.

Around twenty minutes later, the trio had arrived outside Victoria Palace Theatre, and a figure came running at the car. Sora laughed as she unlocked the car, and Y/N threw her stuff in the boot/trunk of the car, slammed it shut, before running to open one of the doors, clambering in beside Harry, and slamming the door shut.

As soon as Y/N was buckled in, and Sora took off, back to the Holland-Osterfield-Barret residence, Harry turned to introduce himself before he felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs and body. 

‘Holy shit,’ was all Harry could think when he saw the twenty-one-year-old. The young photographer was stunned into silence. Harry swore that Y/N was the prettiest woman he had ever seen. Nothing had taken his breath away quite like Y/N had. 

In an attempt to recover, Harry flashed a sincere smile before waving shyly. “Uh. Hey. I’m Harry. Sora’s mentioned you a couple times.”

Y/N smiled brightly at Harry and giggled shyly. “I’m Y/N. I’m an exchange student, but looking to stay here full time, instead of immediately leaving right after my senior year.”

Harry’s head was swimming. All he could think was that he had met the literal definition of sunshine. Her smile was as bright as the sun, her giggle was as soft as a warm summer breeze, and her voice was ethereal. Not even five minutes into meeting the girl and he was already whipped. Harry swore that Y/N couldn’t be remotely human. She had to be a goddess. Maybe she was Apollo. A female incarnation of Apollo.

Harry nodded, returning a smile in kind. He could stare into her eyes forever. They exerted such a warmth, and only sitting next to her, Harry felt secure. Like he could tell Y/N anything without being judged. It was decided. She was his sunshine. His sunshine in the dark. God, he was so whipped.

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[realcube]

YOU GOT: TŌRU OIKAWA

matchup for @triniteaaa​ !

‘my hobbies include making niche playlists (because i’m on that gifted kid burnout type beat), watching crime shows, baking, cooking, dancing in the kitchen WHILE baking and cooking, singing in the shower, reading poetry about love, and ruthlessly making fun of my friends (in the most loving ways)’

♡ remember that scene were oikawa had his lil blue earbuds in, watching the game on his phone before yanking out his earbuds and running away (the scene where everyone started simping over his ear); imagine that scene except, instead of being salty and and scaring innocent children, oikawa is taking a brisk winter jog through his community, admiring the scenery, thinking of you while a niche playlist you made for him is playing through his earbuds 

♡ oikawa is the epitome of failing to meet the high expectation set for him at a young age by himself, peers, teachers and parents - like if he was a host in OHSHC, y’know how they all have their ‘types’ (mori is the ‘strong, silent type’, honey is the ‘boy lolita type etc etc), oikawa’s would be the ‘gifted kid bournout but still charming type’

♡ so yeah, to elaborate on that ^ he probably gets what your are going through and gives you reassurance when you need it - but for the most part, he just likes to bury it deep down within and make jokes about it with you 🤠

♡ as for the crime shows, i can imagine oikawa enjoying true crime podcasts and stuff like that so he’d definitely watch them with you but if you get scared afterwards - like if you hear an eerie noise in the house and get frightened - don’t expect him to be of any help. like yeah, he’ll wrap his arms around you, rub comforting circles on your back and tease you for being his lil scardey-cat but in reality, he just does a fairly good job of hiding the fact he is literally shitting himself too

♡ idk if oikawa cooks but he’d look hot asf in an apron so- KRBRHX he probably gets one with something like ‘kiss the chef 💋’ written on it and whenever you go near him while he is cooking and try to talk to his, he gestures to the words on his aprons lmao

♡ he enjoys baking/cooking but he doesn’t do it too often or passionately, the only time he does is when he needs to eat or during a date with you. bc if you’re in the kitchen making cookies then ofc he is going to join you- he’s not very much help though; the most he does is take the cookies out of the oven for you when you’re preoccupied but other than that, he’s more of a hinderance bc he likes to wipe dough on your face just to annoy you 

♡ istg oikawa noticing you cooking while one of your more romantic playlists is on in the background, then swooping in, taking both of your hands in his own and waltzing around the kitchen with you. him mouthing the lyrics to the song and admiring your flustered expression as you stumbled, trying to match his pace ..lives in my head rent free 🤠

♡ ok so if you’re showering in en suite bathroom and he’s in the room next door, please sing loud enough for him to hear you through the walls and the heavy pattering of the water against the shower floor...because he’ll 100% sing back/sing with you 

♡ like if it’s a chill, quiet song you’ll probably be able to hear his faint humming through the wall if you listen closely; if it’s a song with a duet, he’ll sing as which ever part you don’t want; if it’s a song with long notes, where the singer has a very powerful voice, he’ll reach that part and try hit the high/low note with you so you can both laugh at each other afterwards

♡ i could go on forever about how he sings different songs with you so i’ll stop rn-

♡ i hc that he got into reading poetry/love stories (yes, twilight- he’s team edward) after his breakup and now he’s addicted but he probably tries to hide it from you until one rainy day, you’re not feeling to well but he can’t do much to help and he feels worthless- so he reads you poetry to try make you feel better :))

♡ omg yes he probably listens to the way you make fun of your friends and uses that to describe them, if yk what i mean.. 

♡ so like, for example, if one of your friends is really short and you playfully call them tiny or goblin over a call and he overhears, if you ever mention that friend in future conversations, expect him to be like ‘eh? i don’t know who you are talking about- wait! do you mean your friend gremlin-chan?’ and you’ll fkn wheeze and make him promise never to say that again pfft

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 

'my star sign is aries sun with leo moon and pisces venus, so i’m an emotional hopeless romantic. in terms of love languages, i tend to feel love and show my love through quality time and physical touch (despite the fact that i’m usually repulsed by touching people and being touched), so i’d be a sucker for just cuddling in silence or doing my own thing in my s/o’s presence.’

♡ oikawa is a cancer so y’all are both charming, happy on the outside and sad bitches ready to explode on the inside so together, y’all are an unstoppable force

♡ also, i think oikawa’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmation - he shows that he cares by constantly making time for you, putting you above anything else on his schedule and as for words of affirmation, he just likes it when you compliment him on his sets 🥰

♡ but there is really a little bit of everything with him tbh; he likes to get you expensive, over-the-top, grand gifts for special occasions - like that one time he bought you a pandora ring for you birthday (after only being with you for a few months) and also sometimes he brings you random plushies bc he saw it in a shop window and ‘reminded him of you’ - so that could be considered gift-giving as apart of his love language

♡ he always does the dishes after you are done cooking but other than that, he doesn’t do many acts of service

♡ as for physical touch, whenever he sees you cooking/looking like a deity in general, he sneaks up behind you, slips his arms around your waist, rests his chin on your shoulder and either talk to you or hum along to the song playing in the background 

♡ despite that, he respects the fact you don’t like being touched so he won’t touch you all too often if you don’t want him to, so he usually let’s you initiate the cuddling

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 

for @triniteaaa​: ok so when i first read your req then you mentioned how you like to dance while you cook i immediately thought of iwaizumi but then i read your story mode req and at first i was proud of myself i am a psychic apparently but then i realised that i said i wouldn’t give ppl their self-ship for their matchup so i was a bit stuck as to who to pair you up with but then upon reading over your req once more, i realised there were two possible candidates: oikawa or akaashi. bc your love for poetry and how one of your love languages is quality time made me think of akaashi but everything else about you just screams ‘oikawa’s soulmate’- 

[lemonbarnes]

Burnout

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: As the first successful test subject, she’s learned how to live without being burned. Years later, her savior-turned-psycho is dead, yet someone has gotten a hold of the formula in an attempt to recreate the virus. She takes on the role of a self-imposed vigilante, but soon ends up working alongside the Avengers, and a certain hard headed brunette with luscious locks and a gleaming arm.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: arson, violence (that’s all i can think of, but if there’s anything else please let me know!)

Author’s Note: This is the first part of a series that I: 1) have not finished, 2) debated posting, and 3) am very anxious about posting. It’s coming together very slowly, but I wanted to post the first part and see if anyone is intrigued. Feedback is always welcome. Likes and reblogs are always very much appreciated!

Deep in the snow-covered forest of Norway is where Bucky finds himself, trudging through the impacted white powder with Steve and Sam. It’s only the beginning of November, and Bucky is sure he’s experienced colder, but the chill nips at his flesh nonetheless; settles in underneath his thick coat sleeves and pulls goosebumps to the surface. Perhaps it wasn’t just the cold; it was oddly quiet in this part of the forest. It should be teeming with wildlife, but Bucky has yet to hear anything other than the crunch of snow and their short breaths. The silence is deafening, but he welcomes it. Until…

“What exactly are we doing again?” Sam gripes, his breath creating his own personal cloud before dissipating into the chilly air. Bucky surveys the area, but only produces the same results he came up with five minutes ago – nothing but their presence and the trees that surround them from every angle. Steve doesn’t glance at Sam as he continues walking, also taking note of the lack of animals in the vicinity.

“We’re here to extract the girl and bring her back to the compound. Tony said the last time he saw someone with… talents like hers was when Pepper was taken by AIM. Thinks she might know something about that lab blowing up a couple weeks ago, before we got there.” It’s Bucky’s turn to huff. Why did they have to walk through the forest while the rest of the team huddled up on the warm quinjet miles away? Was it really necessary to trek the 134 miles into the woods to reach the cabin? Why was Tony so sure that this was where you settled down? His head snaps up and he sticks his hand out, simultaneously freezing in place while sticking a finger up to tell Steve and Sam to be quiet. “Do you hear that?” He whispers, so low that he’s not even sure Steve hears him at first.

The chorus of a soft song plays behind a softly crackling fire. A feminine voice reaches Bucky and Steve’s ears, quietly humming along to the tune. Either this chick wanted to be found or is an idiot, Bucky snorts to himself before quickly focusing his attention back on his teammates.

Steve motions for the two to move in closer. “Sam, get Redwing up. Get us an idea of what and who we’re dealing with. Just because we only hear one person right now doesn’t mean there aren’t more people in the cabin,” he takes a moment as the inconspicuous drone zips through the air.

Bucky can only describe the look on Sam’s face as perplexed at best. “What’s wrong, bird brain?” A glare is briefly sent his way by none other than Sam, before he returns to his previous state of confusion. “There’s only one human heat signature, but the temp it’s reading at isn’t possible. There’s no way,” his brow furrows. Steve and Bucky exchange an equally confused glance.

“What do you mean, Sam? What’s it reading at?” A moment of silence passes before Sam looks up from the mini monitor adorning his arm. “152 degrees, Cap,” Sam flashes his wrist at the super soldiers before lowering his arm. “Well, I guess Tony wasn’t far off, was he? A literal human inferno,” he mumbles under his breath as Redwing zooms back to its owner. Bucky only dignifies his statement with a concealed eye roll. “What’s the plan?” 

“Alright, what do we know?” Tony paces at the front of the conference room, suit discarded for his spare set of clothes. One hand sits in the pocket of his track pants, while the other scratches his chin. Everyone else sits at the table, soot drenched suits still clinging to their bodies. “Killian’s dead. Hansen is dead. Extremis is extremely complex, but that doesn’t negate reason to believe that others have figured the virus out and are trying to recreate it,” Tony mumbles to himself, before stopping and placing his hands on the table firmly. “That facility blew up for a reason, whether good or bad is up to us to figure out.” 

Everyone’s brow furrows at the mention of Extremis. “Extremis? I thought you took down AIM,” Natasha pipes up, eyes narrowing in disbelief. 

A heavy sigh leaves Tony’s mouth before he sits and runs his hands down his face. “Yeah, I thought so too. Wannabes, maybe trying to replicate the virus. I don’t know. They were close, though. I saw it in one of the labs before it blew up.” 

“I’m sorry, but can someone fill the rest of us in?” Sam looks exasperated. “What the hell is Extremis?” 

Extremis, he learns, is its own super soldier-like serum. “It’s a virus that rewrites DNA to manipulate the part of the brain that is in charge of reparations and stimulate growth at inhuman speeds. I’m talking ‘cut off an arm and literally watch it grow back’ fast,” Bruce now stands at the front of the table, filling everyone else in. “AIM would mainly recruit veterans who had lost limbs or had severe psychological trauma and inject them with the virus. However, Extremis is very unstable, and most if not all of the people who were infected with it blew themselves up and died. Of course, with the exception of Tony and Pepper. Tony found a way to stabilize it enough that Pep doesn’t have any side effects of it,” Bruce finishes before glancing Tony’s way.

It’s Wanda’s turn to ask, “So… We think that someone is trying to emulate Extremis? If they know it’s so unstable, then why bother?” Tony bites the frame of his glasses before putting them back on and sitting back in his chair, fingers now scratching at his greying beard. “Human bombs. Life-sized, 3000 degree, exploding, unstable bombs that disintegrate anything within a 12.5 yard radius of them and damn near destroy anything else beyond that radius. They’re not trying to create super soldiers, they’re trying to blow things up.

“Up until now, we figured there weren’t any survivors of AIM’s experiment, but now? Now, I’m not so sure. We can assume that either Hydra got a hold of the formula or that someone is trying to dig AIM up from its grave and bring it back to life. What did concern me was this,” Tony brings up a hologram image of a woman running from the lab mid-explosion, skin and eyes tinged a fiery orange. “Whoever it is has the virus. Realistically there’s no way we can bring her in. She’ll melt through any form of handcuffs we try, burn through any kind of straight jacket we try. Hell, she’d probably be able to burn through the floor of the quinjet if she wanted to.”

Bruce lights up as he sits straighter. “Not necessarily. We could find someone to make us equipment out of tungsten. She would explode before she melted them off. It’s a little brittle, but nothing we can’t work with. And we could try out that sedation serum we’ve been working on. Load it into some small vials that Clint could shoot.”

Steve leans forward against the table, shield now at his side. Natasha shakes her head before speaking, exhaustion heavy in her voice. “Say we do bring her in. Then what? Recruit her? Lock her up for the rest of her life? We have to be realistic about the consequences of this, Tony. If she’s really as dangerous as you say she is, then we need to proceed with extreme caution.” Steve’s furrowed brow matches that of Bucky’s and Sam’s, who have both been virtually silent the whole meeting, save for Sam’s question.

“Why don’t we all go take a hot shower and clean up and reconvene in the morning? We’re all exhausted. Dirty. Let’s worry about this tomorrow,” Steve mutters before standing up with his shield in his hand and stalking out of the room, everyone else soon following suit.

The crackling fire was the only noise permeating the air, save for the quiet murmur of the radio and occasional hums that slipped from your lips. “I want to swim away, but don’t know how. Sometimes it feels just like I’m falling in the ocean,” your quiet voice rang, travelling through the empty woods while the large log you leaned against dug into your skin. Hazy shades of orange paint strokes blended together to paint the sky as the sun patiently rose from behind the trees. It was beautiful, something you didn’t think you could ever get used to experiencing.

You were lonely after the destruction of AIM. Not that you weren't grateful to be free, but sometimes you wished you could just be around someone, even if that someone wanted to destroy and conquer the world, and consequently, ruin your life. Does that make me a bad person? You shake your head gently, a sad smile slowly covering your face as you shoot a glance back at the cabin you’d been hiding in for the last three months. 

The cabin, when you first found it, sat deep in the woods, untouched for what you could only guess had been decades. Layers of thick dust and spiderwebs decorated corners and furniture alike. It’ll have to do for now, you had thought to yourself. Over the course of the next couple of months, though, you grew to adore the little cabin and all its quirks. The creak of the fourth stair, the slight slant of the kitchen counter that causes the fruit to roll, even the stupid, (newly) broken singing sea bass that hung on the wall of the small living room (there may be a bullet hole or two through it and the wall behind it, but it’s not like you asked it to turn on while you were making lunch and scare the living daylights out of you).

An almost nonexistent mechanical hum pulled you from your thoughts as you glanced up. A frown settles on your face as you stood slowly, watching a drone hover over the cabin before racing back in the direction it came from. Quickly, you leapt over the log and sprinted stealthily into the house, shutting the doors and locking it. Whoever owned it knew you were there, if not from the drone footage, but from the steady fire burning outside.

You paced before opening the bottom cabinet next to the oven and pulling out a small handgun and a couple throwing knives, checking that the gun was loaded. Stairs were climbed two at a time in order to reach the small linen closet, where you pulled out a little jewelry box hidden behind thick blankets and emptied the contents in your palm, before sticking the small rectangular item into the side of your boot and securing it (pant pockets are too obvious, duh). 

Stepping into the master bedroom, you dared a peak out of the window that looked over the fire you were previously enjoying. Three figures stood at the perimeter of the property, poorly hidden by a few trees from Y/N’s angle. Maybe they’re just hikers. You’ve seen plenty of them, yeah? Just passing through, is what you tried to tell yourself but a second glance out the window quickly shut those thoughts down as you noted that none of the men were hidden amongst the trees anymore. Instead, they were stalking toward the house, but traveling in different directions almost as if to surround you. All clad in some form of tactical gear, one holding a round shield, one in all black with a gleaming left arm, and the last with what looked like a jetpack on his back.

A silent string of curses left your lips as you stalked down the mini hallway and peaked over the banister. You crouched and listened, calming your heartbeat. You would die before ever going back to working for AIM. A knock to the front door bounced off the walls.

“Hello? We’re not here to hurt you. We just think you might’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time and want to ask you a few questions.” Although muffled by the door, Y/N can hear the demand clear as day. Wrong place, wrong time my ass. 

“Steve, this isn’t an interrogation. We want her to come back willingly. You’re gonna scare her off,” Someone pipes up from the side of the house. A furrowed brow replaces the sour look on your face. What the hell? You also hear a “fuck it,” before the back door lock is picked and quietly swung open. “You were supposed to wait for my go-ahead, Buck,” a different voice mumbles, heavy steps causing the floor downstairs to groan. 

Waddling over to the bedroom quietly while crouched proves to be a little more difficult than you anticipated, but you do it in record time and shuts the door quietly. A simple thwack sounds as you unlatch the window and open it, peering down at the ground. You’d survive the jump, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt any less. You land with a soft thud and pray that the three burly men in the cabin don’t hear the sound. Pressing glowing hands to the side of the house, they, along with you eyes, begin to emit a warmth that spreads from your palms to your fingertips and seconds later the wood under ignites as little flames lick the spots. You take your opportunity to flee into the woods but don't get very far before a giant metal frisbee-like object lodges itself into the tree next to your head. Your feet stumble, but you quickly regain balance before pushing yourself from a jog to a full on sprint. What you didn’t expect was to be tackled from the side.

Rolling to a stop, you’re covered by a hefty build sporting a pair of metal wings. “Let me go!” you screams, before grabbing the arm of your attacker and heating up your skin, consequently burning whoever had you pinned. The groan he let out was enough for you to catch him off guard again, bringing a knee up between his legs harshly and pushing him off before scrambling to break into another sprint.

A hand wrapped around your ankle proved to stop you in your tracks, literally. Dragging you down, you kick your other foot in hopes of hitting something while frantically searching yourself for your gun. All you come up with is a knife, but it’ll have to do, you think. Sitting up and shoving the knife in between the plates of the wings, Y/N twists it roughly as it disables the pack on the man’s back before stomping your free foot into his shoulder. A revolting pop sounds and this time you don’t waste a second in finding your footing, but find yourself stunted from another chance at running when the sight of two brawny men stand in front of you. Your whole body glows ominously, frustration kicking in.

“We’re not here to hurt you. Please,” the one with the shield steps forward tentatively. “My name is Steve, Steve Rogers.” You go to take a step back but find the menacing man who tackled you behind you.

Tears build in your eyes, but evaporate from your internal heat before they can reach your cheeks. “I know who you are,” you snarl, the glow growing brighter as time ticked by. A mechanical hum fills your ears again, but heavier than the drone you saw earlier. A quick glance toward the empty sky leaves you bemused, though.

“Cap, stand down. her internal temp is rising. She’ll explode herself before she lets us take her in,” Tony’s voice rings in their ears, but Bucky surprises himself by taking a step forward. “Buck--” Steve starts, but doesn’t finish as he watches Bucky drop his weapons on the ground. 

“Let us help you. We aren’t here to hurt you. We need your help,” he takes another small step forward, noticing the flicker in you glow. “Let me help you. I know what it’s like to be cornered. To be used for other’s personal gains. To be so close to the edge of self destruction that there don’t seem to be any other options,” another step, “but you don’t have to go down that path. Help us help you.” All the while, you glow slowly diminishes to a soft orange.

Eyes blink wildly, glancing between the three of the men. “You don’t know me. You don’t know shit,” you breath trembles, before you steels you gaze and stiffens you posture. “I’m not some science experiment you guys get to play with!” you cry out, flinging two knives. One hits Bucky square in the left shoulder, while the other hits Steve in the abdomen. You go to take off, hearing a wheeze and a grunt of, “back up, we need back up” followed by “Barton, now!” and heavy footsteps falling behind you. 

Before you get very far, a shooting pain blossoms from your shoulder before a sudden wave of fatigue runs through your body, slowing your steps until you can barely walk. The trees in front of your face double and the hand you stretch out to lean against a tree misses, leaving you lying in a pile of pine needles and dirt before everything went black.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Illness

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Nine

Part of my Shadowhunters Post-Canon Series

Read on AO3

Maryse Lightwood doesn’t get sick. She has trained her body to be a machine for fighting all things and that includes colds. Every sniffle that’s even come close to manifesting as a full blown illness has been fought off with runes aside from when she was pregnant with Alec and couldn’t use certain ones to protect the baby, she’d been much more cautious on the other two pregnancies ensuring that she didn’t so much as go outside in chilled air without at minimum seven layers on.

The problem is she can’t use runes anymore, her skin no longer bares the dark marks that once kept her safe. Not that if she could she’d have the strength to get out of bed and grab a stele right now.

But she has to find it in her because even though it’s Sunday the shop opens in an hour and she needs to shower, have breakfast, throw on a mask for everyone else’s benefit and just suck it up.

It takes almost fifteen minutes and twelve tissues but she works up the energy to stand and make it to the shower. She leans against the cool shower wall the entire time doing a cursory cleaning that she decides is more than enough.

She runs a comb through her long, wet hair, puts on the most comfortable and acceptable in public clothes she owns and is just about to make her breakfast when she sneezes so hard it knocks her right back into bed. She falls back letting gravity take her and groans loudly.

She tries to muster up the energy to get back up and just can’t find it instead opting to curl up on her side.

She reaches for her phone sending a quick text to her new mundane employee asking them to open up the store and take care of it for the day with a promise of overtime pay and then Luke to let him know she’ll be missing their date tonight.

Her phone buzzes with responses after she tosses it on the nightstand too tired to reach out and read them she assumes they’re just well wishes and she’ll get a call if it’s something more important. Her phone goes quiet after that and before she knows it she’s drifting off to sleep a handful of tissues clutched tightly in her hand.

By the time she wakes the suns a lot higher in the sky than it was when she literally fell back into bed. Her nose is stuffier than it had been, but her head does hurt a little less so small blessings she presumes.

She eyes the alarm clock by her bed and realizes it’s already nearing 4 o’clock, her stomach grumbles at the realization her appetite seemingly still intact despite the fact her head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and mere moments away from exploding.

She looks down noticing she’s covered in a blanket she doesn’t recall pulling around herself when she hears the sound of pots and pans moving about in her kitchen. Her first instinct is pure Shadowhunter sitting up quickly despite the fact that her body protests grabbing the blade she keeps under her bed. She pulls the blanket around her shoulders and holds the blade ready to fight as she creeps out through her cracked bedroom door.

More shuffling comes from the kitchen, the sound of the fridge opening and closing when Maryse turns the corner blade at the ready.

She drops it to her side immediately upon seeing the muscled back of her boyfriend shifting back and forth between a pot on the stovetop and a pan sitting off to the side. He picks up the pan, opens the oven and bends over to place it inside giving Maryse a nice view of his backside.

“I almost stabbed you,” Maryse says hearing her voice for the first time all day. Her throat sounds scratchy and her congestion makes her sound like the little redheaded boy from the cartoon that Isabelle used to watch when she was a child. She shuffles over to the island that separates her small kitchen from her even smaller living room sitting down on one of the refurbished stools Luke got her for her birthday. “But I’m not complaining about the view.”

Luke turns and smiles a bright wide smile as she drops her blade on the counter. He walks over placing a glass of water in front of her.

She hums in thanks chugging down the whole thing in a few gulps. He gets to work on pouring her a glass of tea the warm scent of honey and ginger fills the air as he sits it down in front of her before filling her glass back up. She wraps her hands around the mug the warmth seeping into her fingertips as she inhales the scent best she can with her stuffed up nose.

“Feeling any better?” he asks checking whatever’s in the pot on the stove and putting a lid on it.

Maryse grimaces, “Not really. How long have you been here?”

Luke shrugs. “A few hours, I was worried when you didn’t answer my text so I drove over and found you passed out and surrounded by a ring of tissues. I popped out for some groceries to make you my mom’s spicy chicken noodle soup and biscuits, been cooking ever since.”

Maryse smiles hiding the grin in her mug as she takes a sip.

“You didn’t have to do all that, I don’t want you to get sick,” she says.

“I don’t have to, I want to,” he smiles rolling up his sleeves the dark runes she’s still getting used to being on his skin again showing. He leans on the counter running his fingers delicately along her hand that’s not holding the mug any longer. “It’s worth the risk of a little cold to take care of my lady.”

She smiles again not hiding it in her drink this time. She can’t remember a time when someone cared for her the way Luke does. Her only romantic relationship really ever had been Robert and even at his sweetest moments early on in their marriage he was never this kind, this caring. He never so much as brought her a mug of tea when she had a headache and here Luke is making sure she’s comfortable, making her homemade family recipes and just taking gentle care of her. It’s all so thrilling in its simplicity.

“Weren’t you supposed to be on a diplomatic mission today?” she asks tangling their fingers together lightly.

He nods running a thumb along her knuckles.

“I was, but I’ve got this in with the Head of the Institute so he offered to go in my place,” he smirks. Luke’s close bond with Alec, and all her children, is just another reason Maryse adores him so. “Warlocks like him better anyways,” he adds with a kiss to her knuckles before pulling away to check on the biscuits in the oven.

He bends over again and she whistles playfully the sound a little aborted because of her congestion but the meaning gets across nonetheless. Luke laughs shaking his ass a little to play along.

Not long after that he sets her up on the couch with an ice-cold bottle of water, some more tea, three boxes of tissues and the British cooking competition she’s grown to love playing on the tv. He joins her after a while two bowls of delicious chicken noodle soup and a plate of warm biscuits on a tray. He settles beside her pulling her in close under his arm his free hand not holding a spoon for his own soup softly running across her hair.

She finishes her soup and somewhere between the mean guy with the blue eyes critiquing someone’s cake ruthlessly and the next episode playing automatically she drifts back off to sleep this time with Luke’s warm chest and strong arms around her.