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imonawholedifferentlevel · 5 months

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕆𝕟𝕖

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《 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝘀》

❢◥ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◆ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◤❢

『𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭. 𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱』

"Let them go now!" A certain raven-haired boy yelled, running up to an enforcer who was holding a woman by the throat. He rammed his body against the man as hard as he could, knocking them both to the ground.

He raised his fist and punched the enforcer in the face, knocking him out cold. He was so fixed on the man under him that he didn't notice another enforcer come up behind him.

But luckily, Vander saw this and punched the guy away from the teenager.

The boy went over to the parents and sighed, seeing the father already dead and the mom barely clinging to life. "Mamm, just hold on; we're going to get you help," he whispered, putting pressure on her wound, but the woman just shook her head and removed his small hand.

"No, please save my daughter's," she whispered, her eyes slowly closing.

"Mamm? Mamm!?" No matter how hard he tried to wake her, she wouldn't open her eyes. He put his head to her chest, listening for a heartbeat, but couldn't hear one signaling that she had passed on.

He turned to look at Vander, who was waiting for an answer, but the frown on the boy's face said everything.

"It's alright, son; you did the best you could," Vander muttered, patting the boy's head and helping him onto his feet.

"Let's get you back home before your mother tries to have my head for almost getting you killed," he chuckled, getting ready to walk away, but the teenage boy grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait, we need to find the girls, she said, to save her daughter's". On cue, two girls walked out of the red smoke. One looked around the boys age with short pink hair and silver grey eyes, and the smaller one had blue hair with blue bell eyes.

They looked around in desperate fear, and the boy could tell that they were looking for their parents, but all the girls saw were them.

Vander slowly approached the girls, with the boy right behind him. The blue-haired girl immediately curled up to her sister's side while still looking at the two males.

The pink-haired girl looked up at Vander almost as if asking where her parents were, but when she saw his face, she felt her heart break into two.

She looked around and gasped slightly when she saw the bodies of her parents. The younger sister didn't even need to look; the pain on her sister's face said enough for her.

She watched as her big sister fell to her knees and started to cry her eyes out. The little sister wrapped her arms around her neck and cuddled her head into it, with a tear dropping down her eye as well.

The two males just watched in sorrow. The boy looked up at Vander and gestured to the girls. "We should take them," he said.

Vander looked back at the girls and nodded his head. He leaned down to the girls height, and they turned their sights to him.

"What's your name, darlings?" He questioned them softly.

"I'm Vi, and this is Powder." The pink-haired girl spoke up, sniffling slightly, and gestured to the blue-haired girl, who is now known as Powder.

"Well, Vi, Powder, my name is Vander, and this boy right here with me is Ajari, but you can call him Aj for short." The girls looked at the dark-skinned boy, who gave them a small smile and a wave.

Aj walked up to Vi and extended his hand for her to take. "You can come with us. I promise you'll be safe."

Vi stared at his hand, contemplating whether to take it or not, but eventually she accepted his hand. But when she touched it, she felt a small spark, making her flinch just a little, but Aj didn't seem to notice as he helped her onto her feet.

She stumbled a little, groaning at the small pain in her left leg, but Aj adjusted her.

Vander picked Powder up, and she immediately curled into his chest.

Aj decided to do the same thing and picked Vi up bridal style. The pink-haired girl was shocked but didn't say anything.

She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

As they walked away from the scene, Vi glared at the remaining enforcers that were watching them before disappearing into the red smoke.

She looked up and eyed the Piltover, giving it that same hateful look.

❢◥ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◆ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◤❢

When they made it back to The First Drop, Sevika was quick to jump from the table and rush to her son with a not-so-happy look on her face.

Aj knew what was coming and gave Vi to Vander, who gave him a look basically saying 'good luck' Aj sighed and turned to his mother, only to be smacked at the back of the head. He yelled loudly and rubbed his head.

"Oww, ma," he grumbled.

"Oww, my ass, where the hell were you? I never gave you permission to go out with Vander." Sevika scowled. That look would have scared anyone else, but not Aj; he's seen it way too many times.

He had a huge habit of disobeying his mother, a trait that she said he got from his dad, which confused him since he's never really heard of his dad much.

"We were going out for supplies, and we saw this couple getting attacked. We couldn't save them, but we saved their daughter's," he explained.

"Ok, but I'm not their parent; I'm your parent, and as I say goes, you do not go off without informing me. Do you understand?"

Aj rolled his eyes and was going to smack his lips, but Sevika caught on to it and hardened her glare. "Ajari, if you smack your lips at me, I will knock you out." Aj was quick to close his mouth, knowing that when his mom said his full name, she wasn't playing around.

"Sorry that I didn't tell you I was going out, ma. I'll be sure to inform you next time," he apologized. Sevika sighed and patted his head.

"Just make sure I know next time. Did you at least finish your self-defense lessons before you left?"

"Yes, mamm, and I also need a new trainer. I'm starting to kick his ass at everything. I feel like the trainer," he laughed, and Sevika cocked a smirk.

"That's my boy," she said, ruffling his hair.

After talking with his mom for some time, Aj wanted to go check on the siblings when he saw Vander returning to work.

"Hey Vander, do you have any snacks that I can give to Vi and Powder?" He asked Vander, who nodded and went into the back before coming out a little later with some cupcakes that Aj had made earlier before they left, which were his favorites.

His mouth watered at the delicious treats, and he thanked Vander for taking the snacks and headed to where he saw Vander take the girls.

He left the bar and entered the room where he usually slept, which was a place under the bar, and saw the two girls holding each other while sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed that Vander bought from an auction some time ago.

"Is mommy and daddy okay, Vi?" He heard Powder ask.

"Yes, their ok, Pow Pow, their in a better place away from this mess," the older sister ran her fingers through the blue-eyed girl's hair.

"Will we see that better place one day?"

"Yes, when it's our time, we will."

Aj decided to make his presence known, and he cleared his throat, catching the attention of the two girls. Powder immediately dove behind her sister, still not used to seeing other people.

"Uh, hey, sorry, I had to leave. my mom is pretty strict with me leaving this place and uh I noticed you guys been down here kinda long so I thought I'd bring you guys some food these are chocolate cupcakes their my favorite" he said giving the plate to Vi.

"Thank you," she muttered.

She took a cupcake off of the plate and handed it to Powder, who looked at it curiously. She hesitantly licked the icing, and Aj almost laughed at how cute she looked when her eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

She instantly unwrapped the wrapper and took a big bite out of the dessert. Her once-scared frown was a huge smile.

"Wow! This is really good!" She said this while Vi and Aj watched her with soft smiles.

"Thank you; I make them myself, actually," Aj commented.

"Really?"

"Yep, I always had a passion for cooking, so I usually help Vander in the kitchen or I cook my own meals. I've got to learn how to survive at some point." Powder finished her cupcake, and Aj took the wrapper and tossed it into a small bin.

"You still haven't tried one bubblegum," Aj said with a smirk. Vi's eyebrows furrowed, and she cocked her head.

"My name is Vi, not Bubblegum," she huffed, crossing her arms.

Aj just kept smirking and gestured to the cupcakes. Vi sighed and took one of them and unwrapped the wrapper before biting into it, and just like Powder, her eyes lit up at the new taste in her mouth.

"Wow," she mumbled, "these are really good!" Aj smiled in gratitude.

"Well, I usually make them every Thursday, so if you want to come down and help, I'll be in the kitchen."

He handed the girls some water and was going to get up to leave when he was grabbed by Powder. "Wait, don't go. We want to get to know you better." Aj shrugged his shoulders; he had nothing else to do anyway.

"Alright," he replied. The girls made some room for him, and he sat down in the middle.

"So your mother is the Sevika, huh?" Vi said, and Aj nodded.

"Yep, but honestly, despite her horrifying demeanor, she actually a really good mom made sure I survived down here-," he cut himself off as he realized he's talking about his mom to two girls who just lost their parents.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't be talking about my parents. You guys need some time to mourn."

"No, no, it's fine; we've mourned enough, honestly," Vi reassured.

"Yeah, now we just need a friend," Powder chirped. Aj tried not to pass out from how adorable Powder was.

"Well, then how about we reintroduce ourselves? My full name is Ajari, but you could call me Aj for short."

"My name is Powder."

"And my full name is Violet, but I go by Vi."

"You know Violet is Arabic for hidden beauty," Aj commented.

Vi felt her face heat up slightly at the fact that a guy basically called her cute. She's been complimented before, but those were just cat calls by drunk weirdos. However, it was different because it was by a boy who looked genuine and very handsome at that.

"And powder means gentle or light." Powder's eyes lit up, and a huge smile fell on her face. Aj was happy to help the girls get over the loss of their parents; after all, he wouldn't know what he would do if he lost his mom, even if she can be pretty overbearing at times.

"What is your Arabic for?" Vi asked.

"Oh, my name means to teach or someone who knows the rules, basically a leader," he explained.

"Nice," Powder commented.

"So, where's your dad?" Vi asked.

Aj's eyes furrowed, and he just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know; I really never met him. Either he died or he walked out on my mom. I never really asked her about him, just in case it struck a nerve in her."

"Understandable," Vi said.

"So, how old are you guys?" He asked.

"I'm 13 and Powder is 6; how about you?"

"I'm 15 my mom gave birth to me here since the hospitals got overrun by enforcers that day I lived here for as long as I can remember mom said it was safer for me to be here"

Aj heard a small yawn and felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked, and he saw that Powder had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

"She's literally so adorable," he cooed, looking down at the small toddler.

Vi nodded in agreement. "She really has always won our parents over with those big eyes."

Aj chuckled and carefully tucked Powder in, and Vi decided to let Powder rest while they finished talking. After some time, the talking turned into jokes.

"And when my mom opened the case and saw the spider, she almost shitted her pants, and I got a whooping after that, but it was so worth it." Vi let out a loud laugh, and Aj couldn't help but state.

Vi noticed him looking and wiped a small tear of laughter from her eye. "What?" She asked.

Aj quickly cleared his throat. "Nothing; it's just that you sound really pretty when you laugh."

"Oh, uh, thanks." Vi tried to stop the incoming blush from taking over her whole face.

"I have something I want to show you," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the rooftop that showed the view of the undercity as well as Piltover.

"Wow, it's beautiful," Vi said, looking out at the view and sitting on the edge with Aj following her move.

"Yeah, I come up here whenever I need to take a breather. Only I know about this spot, and now you do, and one day Powder will too," he replied.

Vi turned her head to the boy and asked, "Why are you being so nice to us?"

"Because everyone needs a friend, right?" Vi smiled slightly and looked into the boys hazel eyes. "I guess.".

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year

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Forgiven - a Malevolent Fanfic

A missing girl.

A confrontation.

A realization that someone hasn't been using available resources.

Three fools try to work out differences enough to tackle their unified goal: saving a child before something terrible tracks her down.

Part of the the Surrogate Series.

AO3

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

The first place they stopped did not react well to the arrival of a god and his weird human stuffy.

Arthur didn’t see it coming. He hardly knew what was happening. One moment, Hastur was carrying him, and the breeze of flying kept his face cool; and he tried to imagine what the world looked like from on high, since no matter how John described it, he couldn’t fully picture it.

The next moment, there was shouting. Then small explosions. Then people screaming all kinds of wild things in a language that sounded like crunching rocks. Then Hastur making noises scarier than all the ones that came before, and—disturbingly—John’s left hand raised in front of Arthur’s face as though to protect from debris.

“What the fuck is happening?” Arthur cried and was ignored, and grit his teeth against the throbbing pain of John’s growing anger.

Finally, one powerful and panicked voice yelled things back and forth with Arthur’s irate yellow taxi, came to some unknown conclusion, and—and as though none of that had happened—they just floated away.

Flew, breeze cool, sun gently warm in the morning’s still-chilled air.

Arthur gawked at nothing. “What was that? What happened? What just happened?”

Hastur fucked up a mining town, is what happened! John barked.

That set off a growl-crunch-language fight which, Arthur was sure, lasted eighty-nine hours.

When Hastur landed for the night (a thing he was loathe to do, but Arthur had limitations and requirements and oh, Hastur hated them), those two were still going, albeit in a tired and dogged kind of way.

Useless. They’ll never help now.

“They will because they dare not do otherwise,” Hastur snarled.

After that? They’re just gonna go hide underground or something, afraid you’ll come back!

“Then they will learn what it means to run from me, and the smoke of their burning shafts shall obscure the stars for generations to come.” And the King in Yellow sounded so certain, so smug, that Arthur finally had a snapping moment of his own.

“Fucking hell,” said Arthur. “Will you both just quit it?” He smacked the tentacle around his waist. “Hey! Moron! This isn’t how you do it!”

Both John and Hastur went dead quiet.

Arthur chose to believe he’d startled them.

Then Hastur dropped him.

It was only a couple of inches; the threat, though clear, failed to deter, and Arthur scowled as he staggered, glaring in his best guess for Hastur’s direction. He clenched his fists. “Do you want to find her or not?”

“How dare you?” Hastur growled. The ground rumbled, shaking under Arthur’s yellow boots. “You arrogant little worm. You know damn well I will find her!” And then, since he couldn’t let it go, “Of course I want to, fool!”

“Then we fucking need allies!” Arthur yelled back. It did not shake the ground. It did not tremble anyone’s in anyone’s soles, not even his own.

Hastur still sounded stunned. “Why the fuck would I need—no, you will listen, Arthur Lester!”

For one moment, a tentacle wrapped around Arthur, tight, as though to crush or shake—but then it didn’t.

It was a tense moment, too still. Then, as if unsure what it was doing, almost as if embarrassed, it withdrew. Arthur exhaled.

“Anyone weaker than I is useless here, as they could never protect her against threats. And there are threats—anyone equal to or stronger than I will see her as a way to hurt me, or usurp control. The former have no reason to know what’s going on, and the latter must not know she’s missing.”

Arthur hadn’t expected an actual response.

Again, he recalled how feral John once was, and how utterly clueless he’d been about relationships that weren’t some flavor of eat-or-be-eaten. “You’re saying you don’t have any allies,” he said, low.

Gravel crunched under Hastur’s many limbs. “We aren’t human. We aren’t communal beasts, like ants. You don’t understand.”

“I understand that Faroe will fucking need allies, and whatever you’ve done the rest of your life, you’re going to need to change that for her.”

Oh, Arthur… said John.

“How dare you leverage her?” Hastur said, low.

“I’m not leveraging. I want her safe, you fuck—long after I’m gone, long after she’s moved away from you.”

“You won’t be gone, idiot,” Hastur said. “And she will be safe. Idiot.”

“Not without—look. I understood why she left when you didn’t. Right? And you damn well know her safety is everything to me. I’m not a petty piece of shit like some people here.”

Heh, heh, heh, said John.

Hastur growled low. “I am aware we share… a goal.”

“And I know how to investigate, too,” Arthur suddenly said. “Why the fuck aren’t you using me?”

“Using you?”

“Yes! Use me! Use my skill, my… my experience, my whatever! My mind! Let me help you!”

Hastur was quiet.

What? said John. What the fuck are those reactions for?

“What reactions?” said Arthur.

He’s being all—John stopped with a gasp.

“Do not,” said Hastur, so close that Arthur could feel his breath, “tell him things I do not intend him to see.”

Arthur shuddered.

There was a pause.

Purple flared under his skin like ripples on the water, said John.

“Piece!” Hastur bellowed.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Arthur snapped.

It means he’s embarrassed.

“I'm warning you,” Hastur said.

Arthur snorted. “Why? Because you have a professional investigator right in front of you and you weren’t going to use him?”

Ha! said John.

“Such faces you make,” Hastur rumbled. “You make me miss when you were freshly broken, so much less responsive to everything. So much less… defiant.”

Another threat.

John’s anger grew again, pounding. You will never break him again, you son of a…

“No, you don’t,” Arthur dared. “You wish I wouldn’t defy you—which I wouldn’t if you weren’t wrong—but you don’t want me broken anymore.”

Hastur’s growl was not good. It was low, less showy. It was dangerous, the sound of a being who could crush, who could plan and execute the breaking of a human.

It flipped John’s switch from combative to afraid. Don’t touch him!

“I will do what I want with Arthur Lester, Piece, and if you do not want it to be any worse, you will be silent.”

“Easy, John,” said Arthur, low. “I’ve got this.”

You?

“And how, praytell, would you go about finding her without endangering her, then, if I’m doing it wrong?” Hastur rumbled.

“You’ll need a disguise,” said Arthur, “assuming you can even do one that works.”

“Why?”

There it was. That question, that way. John, Yellow, Hastur: the answer mattered, and Arthur spoke slowly. “Because when we just listen to people gossiping about whatever caught their attention, we get a much better idea of what’s going on, and they won’t do that freely if they know who you are. Faroe doesn’t know how to be that sneaky, so whatever she’s doing, she’s leaving a trail. Nobody knows it’s connected to her, and big important people like whoever you just bullied wouldn’t know about it, but ordinary people would at least know it existed. The people walking the same road. Maybe even sitting around a campfire together, I don’t know.”

“The latter is unlikely,” said Hastur, which was not a refutation.

“Besides,” said Arthur. “The more fuss you make, the more people will know something’s up. We already have to correct that. You’ll have to make people think you found whatever you’re searching for and went home.”

“Fuck,” said Hastur, low. “You are correct on that. But I cannot go yet. We are too close to Celephaïs—it would be… awkward if I did not visit, and could imply disfavor.”

Oh, now you’re considering disfavor, John muttered.

“Yes,” said Hastur. “Yes. This method will take more time, Arthur.”

“It won’t. It saves time. It just takes more patience.”

“You’ve done this before.”

“Yes.”

“Did you find whom you sought?”

“Yes.” And since they were being honest—“Not always alive—but we always found them.”

“We?”

“Parker and I. He… he was my partner.”

“Partner?” Hastur sounded so surprised.

Arthur shrugged, looking away, staying as neutral as he could. He had no pockets to put his hands in.

I’m sorry, said John.

“I told you, it’s done,” Arthur said, low and rough.

“Partner,” purred Hastur. “Really! I thought you’d only had Faroe’s mother.”

Arthur spun. “What? No! No, he—we worked together!”

But you shared an apartment, said John, sounding utterly confused.

“We were friends! And Bella was not my only… what are we even talking about?” Arthur blurted.

Hastur laughed like a tremor. “Ah, I wonder… I wonder, Arthur Lester, if you worked your magic there, too, and remained just as blissfully unaware.”

“What?” said Arthur. “Look, all of this has nothing to do with Faroe!”

“It might. She clearly inherited it, whatever it is.”

“Inherited what?”

Scratch, said John, suddenly. And that mold stuff in the cave, and…

“What?”

Larson’s child, and the Butcher, and… Hastur. John sounded panicked. Hastur, what’s going on?

“So you’ve finally noticed. Took you long enough. I don’t know, John. The effects are obvious. The cause is not.”

That’s not what it is with me, John snarled. That’s not it. He’s mine. Don’t you even fucking imply it’s some contagious shit.

“It may have been once, John, but I am under no delusion it is now,” said Hastur.

Arthur threw his hands in the air. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

A pause.

“We go to Celephaïs,” said Hastur. Then we will pretend to go home. Then… we will… try your method.” His voice sounded tight. “Only—only—because I don’t know what else to do.”

Arthur reached. Maybe Hastur moved closer, or maybe Arthur guessed right, but he put his hand on one of Hastur’s arms. “We’ll find her. We will. And unlike the ones who died when Parker and I looked… Faroe is more likely to leave her attackers dead than the other way around.” It was Arthur’s throat that was tight now. “I hate that you were right. And I still think you did it too young. But she… she can kill. And if she has to, I hope she doesn’t hesitate.” His voice broke.

Arthur… John reached up and cupped his face.

Hastur said nothing.

He could’ve rubbed it in. Could have gone smug.

Probably would later.

But right now, he picked Arthur up, abandoning plans for human-needed rest, and flew in silence toward Celephaïs.

I’m sorry, said John, barely audible.

“Don’t be. I already said it’s done.”

Someday… tell me about him?

Arthur swallowed. “You don’t have the right to know.”

I… I know that.

“Maybe I will. Someday.”

John stroked his cheek. He knew forgiveness when he heard it.

Hastur said nothing. Yet.

Celephaïs waited.

#malevolent #malevolent fic #arthur malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolentpod #john malevolent #hastur malevolent #king in yellow malevolent #malevolent fanfic #ao3 #ao3fic

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ephemerensis · 3 years

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Scared // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

Short, unedited 2 am write because I want to think of anything but my finals. Possible TW mentions of violence? Tim cries to you after you get hurt.

—

He was always on edge after the incident.

Granted it’d been no more than two weeks, but considering the carnage he’d witnessed before this should’ve been nothing. But it was different.

It was your life on the line.

Two Face kidnapped you. You almost died. It was his fault.

He was supposed to walk you home that night but you insisted he didn’t. Of course he argued but you persisted

“Tim, I have pepper spray.”

“But it’s a Tuesday! Crime rates spike on-“

“And last Tuesday I was fine.”

“Okay but I watched you walk home that night.”

“It’ll be fine!”

…and after five minutes of arguing he gave in. You could handle yourself, he’d taught you a little bit about self defense as soon as you both decided to be serious. It was just a ten minute walk and you promised to call him afterwards. It’d be fine.

And then you were gone.

A whole week you were gone.

It took them ages to track you. But that night they’d finally locked the right coordinates. Although, they didn’t know that.

They were ambushing any and all warehouses boasting with criminal activity to find nothing, and as they snuck through the shadows and corners of this one, they expected another dead end.

But there you were.

Damian winced as he locked sight on you first. Slumped over in the chair you were bound to. Presumably unconscious. Your hair hung in clumps, matted in sweat, blood, and who knows what else. Wrists fretted, ankles raw from the rope digging into your skin.

He sent out your location as the rest of the team started heading in your direction.

Below, the floor crawled with Dent’s lackeys. Two Face himself was standing next to your form, barking panicked orders as the men scuffled to prepare for an ambush from the Bats.

But as soon as Tim saw you, the fight was over. He was frantic enough when he heard you were there. As soon as he received the coordinates, he came rushing.

Appearing next to Damian, he mouthed the word ‘where.’ Robin pointed, Tim’s gaze following until he saw it. And then he blanked. He moved without thinking, dropping to ground level from his perch on the beams above as he made his way to you, seething.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM.”

Two Face scowled at the sight, pulling a firearm out of the holster on his belt. He looked to his men expectantly.

The other vigilantes followed him, keeping the muscle headed henchmen off his back as he dealt with Two Face directly.

The villain raised his pistol, pressing it to the back of your skull as he snarled at Red Robin.

“Not another step, or I shoot.”

Before he could blink, a batarang knocked the weapon out of his hand, nipping at the fingers that held it in the process.

“You son of a-“

Hissing in pain and frustration, Dent grabbed at his injury with his opposing hand, only to be knocked down with a solid kick to his diaphragm.

He gasped for air as he hit the ground. But before he could catch his breath, a fist collided with the side of his face, making his neck snap to the right. A sickening crack sounded as a trickle of blood drifted from his nose.

“I ASKED YOU.”

A second strike made the metallic taste fill his mouth.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

A fourth knocked him out.

“YOU DID TO THEM.”

But Tim didn’t stop. He pummeled the villain, screaming at him until he ran out of profanities to yell.

He only stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Tim, that’s enough.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the speaker, wide eyed and frantic. His father stared back, as stoic and calm as ever.

“It’s taken care of.”

When you came to a few days later, he could barely make eye contact with you. He made himself sparse.

And he hadn’t slept a wink since.

Tonight was no different.

The creak of the wood beam framing your windowsill woke you. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, scanning the room with a yawn. Your eyes passed him twice before they could finally make out his figure.

His hands twiddled with a pen as he stared out your window. He was there almost daily now. Guarding your bed as you slept and disappearing with the morning. Although you only caught him in the act a few times.

“Tim?”

He tensed up, turning to look at you with that wild, exhausted glean in his eye.

As you moved to sit, he stood up and walked over to ease you back down.

“Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you.”

You shook your head, back now pressed against the headboard of your bed frame. You were awake now, if only slightly.

“No, it’s okay. Why are you here?”

He locked eyes with you for a moment, furrowed brows, pursed lips, as if he was afraid of the answer before he looked away. The undertones of vulnerability danced through the dullness he held in those cerulean depths of his.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

He turned to walk away, but you reached out to grab his hand before he could. He flinched at the contact.

“Tim, wait.”

The boy’s head turned to you, darting his vision from you to the ground. The look on your face twisted at his heart strings. Wasn’t it you on the brink of death not long ago? How could you look so concerned for him? Your eyes seemed to plead him, for a response. For something. Anything.

“Babybird, what’s wrong? You don’t talk to me anymore.”

He didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. If he started talking now he couldn’t trust himself to keep appearances anymore. Who knows what he might say?

“Could you at least look at me?”

His demeanor wouldn’t budge. But even in the dark you could see his eyebrows tighten together, lips pressing to a straight line.

“Let’s break up.”

His voice was gentle but still, he sounded so stoic. Your grip on his hand loosened as you processed the words in your mind.

“What?”

Taking that as his que to go, he reached down to brush you off, snapping you out of your trance as you tightened your grasp again.

“Why?” you breathed.

He hated fighting with you so he didn’t. Wordlessly, he stood there, waiting for you to let go or at least tire enough for him to slip free.

“Did I do something?”

You sounded so mellifluous. He could listen to you for hours. And some days he did. But right now the twinge of desperation and hurt dripping into your tone was overwhelming.

“It’s just for the best.”

“What are you saying? God, Tim, would you look at me!”

You tugged gently on his arm, pleading. His face. Whatever it was he needed to say you wanted to at least see him say it. See the words form on his lips. The emotion in his eyes that always betrayed his intentions. The quirk of his brow when he needed to emphasize a word.

“What’s going on?”

Against his better judgment he did look. Sighing, he turned around to face you and your hand finally let go of his.

He looked so scared.

His drained eyes searched yours, practically begging you to agree with him.

“Y/N, it’s not safe. You’re constantly in danger because of me, and it took all that for me to pull myself out of the delusion that you weren’t.”

Oh. Oh.

“Tim, I’m in danger anyway. My parents are millionaires and I live in crime central.”

You softened your tone to reason with him, but he shook his head and ran a hand through his disheveled raven locks.

“And being with me just makes the target on your back that much bigger!”

He locked eyes with you again, this time more urgently than the last.

“Please, Y/N I can’t lose you.”

Tim’s voice broke, face contorting as a tear slipped past his lashes. He angrily wiped it away. He hated crying, especially in front of you. But right now he couldn’t help it.

“Y/N, you almost died.”

You reached out to him, making him withdraw slightly. As he froze, you reached forward and closed the gap, taking both his hands in your own. With a gentle tug, he came forward enough for you to pull him into an embrace. His head fell into the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around him. He didn’t move, letting you hold him as small sobs started racking his body. His salty tears stained your shirt but you didn’t mind. Feeling him settle in, you moved to pat his back in slow, continuous strokes.

“It’s okay.” you cooed. “I’m okay now, I’m safe.”

The boy shook his head, the twisting strands of his hair brushing against the side of your neck as he pulled back suddenly. His hands were pressed on either side of you, on the headboard, to avoid crushing you with his weight. Propped up on his knees as he looked at you again.

He was so beautiful. The glimmer of tears refracted the subtle glow of the moonlight so ethereally. His cheeks were flush with a rosy red hue. He was like this because of you.

“No you’re not! How long until someone else looks for you? What if I don’t make it next time?”

He pushed his weight further onto his knees, dropping his arms to pick up one of yours. He stared at the white bandage drawn taught over your skin so intensely it burned.

“How can you say you’re okay when you’re like this? Y/N they hurt you.”

You pulled your arm away sheepishly. Your other hand found its way to his face, caressing his cheek as you wiped his tears away with your thumb and turning his gaze towards your own again.

“And it’ll heal. I really am okay, Tim please, believe me.”

“NO!”

The response came before you could even finish your sentence.

“You can’t tell me that, Y/N! You can’t!”

His hands started shaking in his lap as he averted his eyes to the sheets, pulling his head from your hand.

“Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you in that stupid warehouse! As soon as I go to sleep, all I hear is you screaming!”

His voice broke again, bottom lip jutting out in a quiver. The words sunk into your skin like daggers and all you could do was wordlessly reach for his hands.

When you first got back it was rough. The initial nights were sleepless to say the least. Waking in cold sweats, throat sore from the blood curdling screams that ripped out of them. Someone running to your side to tell you you were safe. You were out. But you never thought it hurt him. He was starting to hyperventilate, half choking on his tears.

“Tim, I’m so sorry—“

Your hands moved from his hands to his back, tugging him down onto you. He didn’t protest. His head fell forward to rest on your chest.

As you started stroking his back, he stopped holding back. Muffled sobs burst from his throat, shoulders shaking as he let out all the frustrations he couldn’t before. He eased onto the bed, balling the fabric of your shirt underneath his fists— clenching and unclenching them methodically. You ran your fingers through his hair, whispering over and over again love confessions and reassurances.

Eventually he stopped sobbing, turning his head to the side, exposing his face to the air as he subdued his sniffles. His hand had long stopped bunching your shirt, opting instead to gently hold onto your stagnant arm. His breathing slowed, so your movements followed. The hand running its course up and down his back came to a gradual stop and you quieted.

But when you stopped, he shifted. His eyebrows tensed again and his grip on you tightened as you felt his body start to tremble again. Tim’s other hand seemed to reach up to his ear as if to block out a noise.

“Can you sing?” He whimpered it so quietly, you didn’t know if you’d imagined it or not.

But you heard him.

Your free hand reached for his face, stroking the bridge of his nose with your pinky.

“Golden slumbers fill your eyes

Smiles await you when you rise

Sleep pretty darling, do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby”

And he slept.

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tinyintrovert731 · 3 years

Text

Drunken Times

First fanfic yay!! Also, Happy valentines day everyone! I guess this is part 1? if I do more? hopefully?

Vi x Fem!reader

warnings: somewhat nsfw, some makeout? alcohol, a hobo hagrid, horny Vi

word count: 1,320.

SLAM! You put your shot glass on the table after shooting back the burning alcohol. Your girlfriend cackles while your face scrunches up trying to swallow.

You hate alcohol but your devious girlfriend, Vi, bet she could beat you in a drinking contest. You're a total lightweight but too competitive to pass a challenge….that was 5 shots ago.

"Come on, baby it's not that bad," Vi says, completely fine after her shot while you're hanging on to the edge of the bar waiting for your head to stop spinning. You speak up through sips of water the bartender passed to you earlier. "That's easy….for you to say...fuckin alcoholic." "And you're my fuckin stoner," Vi retorts back before cuping the side of your face, turning it so you face her before pecking your lips smiling. You smile back and lean into her touch before you're both interrupted by a scoff coming from the other side of the bar along with "fucking faggots..."

You turn around to face the buffoon while he swirls the whiskey in his glass. "Is there a problem?," you ask. "Yea. I'm tir’d of you homos showin’ up everywhere I go. I’m sick of it!” The man says sluggishly, taking another sip of his whiskey. He’s clearly drunk. And so are you. “The fuck’’s yur problem man? You wunna go?!” You hop off the stool and walk up towards the jerk. He chuckles and gets out of his seat, standing up straight. He’s tall….really tall. But that didn’t stop you from standing your ground like the feminist you are. Vi tries to stifle a laugh while watching your 5 foot zero ass put your fists up like she’s always taught you to.

The giant man raises his fists with a smirk on his face. “Oh shit,” Vi’s eyes widen as she quickly gets up from the bar stool and walks to the two drunkards, deciding this was the time she steps in. “Alright, munchkin. Time to go home.” You ignore her and continue staring at the jerk with your fists raised, that is until you feel two strong hands on your waist. Your girlfriend hoists you over her shoulder and wraps one of her strong arms over your legs to make sure you don’t fall. “Wha- Vi!” “I’m not gonna let you fight a drunk Hagrid under my watch.” You lift your head to look at the guy as Vi pays for our drinks and carries you towards the exit. “This isn’t over!,” you yell with your fists clenched. “Stop yelling at the old man, Y/N,” Vi lectures, grunting as she adjusts you to a more comfortable position on her shoulder, then starts walking the normal route to your shared apartment.

You let your arms hang over your head lazily as you stare off into space. The world still looks dizzy to you after taking so many shots. Your eyes finally focus on what was in front of you. Vi’s ass. Vi’s thicc beautiful ass that you love. You smile mischievously as you lift both of your hands and squeeze her cheeks, making Vi jump surprised and stops dead in her tracks. She leans over and puts you down on your feet. Finally paying attention to your surroundings, you look around to find your both between two buildings in an alleyway. Vi places her hand gently under your chin and slowly raises your head till your eyes meet.

She had a dangerous look on her face. A look full of lust as if you’ve awoken a different side of her. You stare at her beautiful icy blue eyes taking in her facial features as if you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Vi stares at you for a moment before composing herself with a sly smirk. She leans down by your ear. “Are you sure you wanna play that game, kitten?,” she whispers before biting your earlobe teasingly. Your breath hitches, not used to Vi’s boldness yet even though you’ve both been dating for almost half a year. You bite your bottom lip and nod hearing Vi groan into your neck, just etching to devour you in marks to remind everyone you are hers and no one else's. “I need to hear you say it, baby,” she pleads, trailing her calloused hands along your hips, slowly moving up under your shirt. You gasp as her warm hands touch your bare skin. “I-I want this, I want you, Vi,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks turn red as you bury your face into her chest. You feel your girlfriend’s chest vibrate as she chuckles from your shyness. She lifts her hands and cups each side of your face, making you look at her. Vi takes a moment to stare at your eyes with nothing but love and it makes you more relaxed staring back into her striking blue eyes. Vi knows you love her eyes. You could stare at those blue topaz eyes all day.

“Let me know if I need to stop,” Vi says, not even giving you a chance to answer before her lips are on your neck, already working on the first mark of the night. Your legs almost give out, leaning on Vi to keep you steady. She grabs each of your shoulders slamming you into one of the walls of the alleyway. You wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her towards you, closing the gap between you two. “C-can I kiss you?,” Vi asks hesitantly. You love how she’s so bold but knows when to ask. She’s always considerate of you and what you’re comfortable with, especially when she’s your first relationship. “Please,” you whine, already standing on your tippy toes. She leans down gently kissing your lips, slow and hot, like she has all the time in the world.

Vi’s such a great kisser. She takes her time to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying it as well. Wrapping her muscular tattooed arms around your torso, she grabs your ass, squeezing them making you moan into her mouth. She takes this chance to slip her tongue into your mouth making you into a mess. Your legs give out under you as Vi deepens the kiss, mixing and messing your tongues together. Your girlfriend notices and squeezes your ass cheeks twice signaling you to jump. As if on instinct, you jump and wrap your legs around Vi’s waist with your back to the wall. You grab Vi’s longer pink strands of hair from the back of her head, pulling them gently making her moan into your mouth. Meanwhile, Vi continues to squeeze your ass and thighs every now and then, making you shudder under her lips.

This continues for a bit. Both of you, yearning for each other, to feel more of each other. But you refused to have sex in a dirty alleyway in the undercity. You pull away from Vi’s lips gasping for air. Vi looks at you confused while catching her breath. “Can we- *gasp* Can we continue this at home?,” you ask, running your fingers through her soft magenta hair. You watch as your girlfriend leans back relaxing from your fingers. She sighs and nods, gently dropping you to your feet. You can tell she’s somewhat disappointed in having to wait, so you wrap both of your hands around one of her arms, and tug her down to reach your height. Still feeling confidence from the alcohol, you whisper in her ear, “Don’t worry baby, you can do whatever you want with me tonight.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, you start waking, dragging your girlfriend to walk with you. Violet is stunned. Blushing from ear to ear thinking about having her way with you, tonight. “Whatever I want…,” Vi whispers, mainly to herself. You both walk back to your shared apartment, excited like young teenagers again for what awaits inside.

#arcane reader x vi #vi #arcane #arcane smut #arcane vi #arcane vi x reader #lol #lol vi #vi lol x reader #vi league of legends #league of legends #fanfic #vi fanfic #how is vi so hot

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nightowlwriting · 3 years

Text

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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raggaraddy · 3 years

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Intruders.

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: Another long one. This one doesn't have so much of the worried reaction, cause I wrote it to fit the Mafia! Jungkook character. It's still fun though ^-^ Thanks again for the request. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Jimin

Taehyung

Summary: When a loose end breaks into Jungkooks house with guns drawn, you get a first-hand lesson that maybe Jungkook isn't as invulnerable as you had thought.

Trigger Warnings: Graphic violence, gun usage, blood, murder.

Jungkook

Mafia! Jungkook

Fighting to get free, you're kicking your legs. Squirming. Squealing as you shove your hands against Jungkook's chest, pushing him back as hard as you can. Tears starting to fill your eye line.

"Stop, stop, stop," you shout, with no effect. Struggling harder.

"Admit it!" He yells back, a smile on his face.

"Never," You scream. Not able to hold it back anymore. Your screech morphs into forceful laughter as Jungkook continues to tickle you. Your cheeks aching from how widely you're smiling. Your sides hurting as you keep thrashing for release.

"Admit I could beat up the Hulk, and I'll let you go." He insists again, pressing you down with a massive grin.

"Okay, okay!" You squeal, finally conceding. Groaning in relief, when his fingers stop tickling your stomach. Your limbs dropping down to rest. "You could totally kick the Hulk's ass." You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

"Damn right I could!" He bursts into laughter also. Easing back with a sigh now that he no longer has to hold you still. Neither of you phased by the movie that started the debate still blaring in the background.

Roughly you punch your fist into his chest, intentionally knocking the air out of him. Taking advantage while he is caught off guard to push him flat onto the carpet beside you. Straddling his lap, you lean over him pinning his arms to the floor before he has a chance to argue. Not that you think he would. The fun-filled smile doesn't leave his face for a moment. Completely amused by you, while you try your best to put on an intimidating act. Trying to stop yourself from smiling again.

"Jeon Jungkook. You cheated." You playfully scold, "And if you can't have a grown-up discussion, then you can't do other grown-up things either." You accentuate your point by grinding down. Feeling his hips push up as you tease him. Lifting up right away, shaking your head as you remove the contact. "Nah uh. Cheaters don't get that." You smirk.

"Don't be mean just cause I won." He runs his tongue inside his cheek. His gaze showing desire and a want for you to continue. But you're not done toying with him.

"You didn't win." You poke your tongue out, rocking your hips a single time more, "Confessions under duress are not admissible anyway."

"No, but it's good leverage to have." He answers a little too honestly and without thinking. Not entirely talking about your play fight anymore.

Chuckling awkwardly, you shake off the train of thought that wants to evaluate what he just said. Not wanting to let your mind remember that part of him right now. Trying instead, to return to your spirited banter. But he gets in before you.

"Nope," He easily breaks out and overpowers your hold wrapping his arm around your waist, carrying you as he stands up. "you admitted I'm stronger than the Hulk, and I'm never gonna let that go." Bending down, he throws you over his shoulder, slapping your ass to tease you back.

His shoulder digging into your gut stops you from taking a full breath or making a snippy comeback. So you slap his ass in retaliation instead.

"Come on Kitten, you have to give me a prize for winning." He purs suggestively, carrying you out of the living room into the foyer.

He's going to take you upstairs, but you don't make it to them before both of your heads snap towards the entrance. A flurry of gunshots exploding just beyond the front door. The commotion silencing as quickly as it started.

Jungkook slings you off his shoulder. Becoming another person in an instant. Purely focused. Opening the coat closet, he pulls a Glock from his jacket.

"Get upstairs, now." He barks.

You don't have to be asked twice, running to the stairs. Gasping as the garage door next to the steps opens, two hooded men storming in with guns drawn. Jungkook reacts quickly, firing past you. Shooting one of them, missing the second who ducks instead of firing back.

At the same time, blowing open to the left of you, the front door is kicked in. Swinging wide, four more masked men rush the house. Firing rapidly and wildly. Scarcely missing Jungkook who is moving preemptively and is 3 steps ahead. Running forward he shoots the second man in front of you. Grabbing your arm, dragging you over their dead bodies into the garage with him.

Shutting you in just as bullets explode through the wood door at your back.

Jungkook forces you to keep up, throwing you behind the car. The automatic shots continuing to decimate. The four-wheel-drive being the only thing that keeps either of you from getting shot.

Panting and on the verge of tears, you're crouched beside Jungkook. Watching him, waiting to react to anything he says. Knowing he is all that stands between you and death. But also knowing that with him in this mindset he could do just as much damage to you as one of those other men might.

The gunfire stops. Distorted voices shouting behind the door's remains. Jungkook cautiously raises up, leaning over the hood. He lines up a shot as the door opens warily, taking down another of them. Slouching behind the car as a new wave of bullets comes in response.

In front of you, the shelves covered in storage boxes and the workbench full of tools is ripped to shreds. Things erupting in every direction. Covering you in debris.

Pulling his phone from his pocket he shoves it in your lap.

"Call the first number!"

Your brain is stalling, your hands are shaking, but you follow the order as best as you can. The way your fingers are vibrating making it so much harder.

"What's up Boss?" You can hear the faint sound of his first lieutenant, as the firing ceasing again. Jungkook snatches the phone, speaking lowly and calmly.

"My house is breached and we're under fire. At least 3 guys. Semi-autos. We're held up in the garage and I've got maybe 15 rounds left." He passes the information over precisely. Remaining organized and in control.

"We're 10 out," the first confirms back, yelling orders to people on his end of the phone.

Your head jolts towards the garage door as it heavily clunks, starting to lift along the tracks. Exposing you on two sides.

"Fuck," Jungkook exclaims. "We don't have 10 minutes."

He stands, staying low. Opening the car door, tossing the phone in, followed by you. Your limbs hitting everything as you try to keep up with his pace. Making it onto the seat in an awkward heap.

"Stay down," he growls, slamming it, sealing you in. You're ahead of him this time, already kneeling under the steering wheel. Pressing your chest and head into the seat as flat as possible.

Inside the car, you can only hear the sounds of blasts for a few moments. Heavy things being thrown in every direction amid tense silences.

Outside the car, Jungkook fires off 3 shots, aiming for the legs he sees as the garage opens. The angle is wrong, and he doesn't hit them. Having to retreat back. Throwing the workbench down, using it as a meagre form of barricade. Blocking himself into the corner, hunched behind it. It's barely wide enough to protect him at the front and on the side. The height of the desk only just covering his head. He aims over the bench, hoping to keep the front two from coming in with suppression fire.

However, his attempt is unsuccessful. As he raises up, a bullet wings his right arm. Involuntarily dropping his gun, he shouts in pain. The Glock falling on the wrong side of the table.

It only takes him a second to compose himself, lunging over to pick up the weapon. But it's a second too late.

One of the men charges from inside the house. Booting the table into Jungkook, throwing him off balance. Holding him at gunpoint as he hits the floor.

Briefly, you see the other two men through the window as they pass the car. You're too terrified to move. Your hand cupped over your mouth, muffling the panicked breathes and whimpers that you can't hold in.

Working as a unit, one of the men clears the table out of the way, another picks up Jungkook's gun, while the third ushers him out of the corner and onto his feet, keeping the sights tightly fixed on him.

Getting in his face, the lead man removes his balaclava. Seething hate filling his expression. "You remember me?"

While he isn't going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, Jungkook is certainly perturbed by the reveal.

It was nearly 5 months ago that he had ordered this man and his family killed. It drew far too much attention when he refused a deal Jungkook made him. So an example has to be set. The man's wife, two children and his visiting brother were murdered in the gruesome display. And Jungkook was told that the man standing in front of him now was also killed. But it seems the men charged with the hit got complacent. They didn't confirm the kill.

Mentally, Jungkook was already recalling the four men on task. If he made it out of this they were going to suffer greatly for their mistake.

Seeming infuriated by Jungkook's lack of fear and stoic glowering, the unmasked man slams his fist into the Mafia King's face. Shouting as he does.

Methodically, the three intruders begin to tear Jungkook apart. He put's up a fight as best as he can, but the men are trained and three against one isn't fair odds in this situation. Knocking him between them, they strike with their knees, fists, feet, hurting him in any way they can manage. Beating him into the ground. Pulling him back onto his knees whenever he drops back or falls forward.

Biting your palm you're trying to stop yourself from crying out as you sob into your hand. You can hear the hits. The thumps from him being tossed around. His groans of pain. The slough of abuse they spit at him while they work him over. Cursing him. Mocking him.

Suddenly, the car door jerks open. One of the masked men dragging you out by your hair. Making you produce an ear-shattering scream. One he silences with a fist to the face. Your body collapsing, slapping into the concrete.

Groaning in pain, your sobs can no longer be restrained. Loudly bawling, tear stream your face, hardly able to breathe as you panic.

Your heart aching as you see Jungkook across from you. Hunched over on his knees, he's gushing blood. It's running down his face. Matting his hair to his forehead with the sheer volume of it. He's splitting it up, his mouth dripping with it. His shirt soaked in it. Flowing down his arm from the bullet wound also.

You'd never have thought you would see your Boyfriend in such a state. You've witnessed first-hand the power he has when he's the one responsible for this kind of damage. In your mind, you saw him as invincible. Unbeatable. A cruel monster driven by hubris that could never be stopped.

The times you'd seen him beat people like this, the times he hit you like this, you had privately desired for him to suffer the same fate one day. For karma to return everything he had dished out.

But now that he was, now that he was the one being treated without mercy, even with it being justified, you can't feel anything but fear and sadness. Regretting ever having wished this upon him.

"Jungkook," you gently call.

He's disoriented. Too many headshots having made him dizzy and unfocused. But your soft voice cuts through all of that. Looking up from the ground to you, his eyes go wide seeing you in harm's way again.

"Y/-" he starts to get up, only to be interrupted and held down. The unmasked man's hand coming down on his shoulder. The barrel of Jungkook's own gun being aimed at his chest as the man hovers over him.

"You know, your guys didn't kill my wife right away." He digs the gun tip into the bullet wound on his arm. Twisting and stabbing into the raw flesh making him grit his teeth to bear the pain. "They shot her where he knew it wouldn't kill her. Then they let her bleed out. While I could only watch. While my kids watched." The pure rage in the man's voice is finally softened. Instead, sounding horribly grieved and agonized over the memory. "Someone like you, you're probably not capable of love," he spits, pushing off Jungkook to stand straight. "But whether you love her or not, I still want you to watch her die."

The words register, but you can't absorb them. You can't react.

"Wait. Wait!" Jungkook yells after him.

Your body is throbbing in terror. Watching him advance on you. Watching him raise the gun at you.

The shot hits you in the stomach.

"No!" Jungkook howls. The two men punting him back down as he climbs to his feet. Extending the barrage of hits to impress upon him that he shouldn't try to get up again.

In shock, you delicately dab at the hole in your side. Blood pulsing out of you. The pain is more than you could have imagined. You can't pull in a full breath. Short gasps are all you can manage. Doubling over onto your hands and knees, you weakly shriek unable to deliver a solid scream.

They drag you by your arm, hurling you at Jungkook, your torso landing in his lap. He clings to you, drawing you in tight. His face twisted in anger.

"Y/n." He growls. "Don't you dare-" he can't bring himself to finish that thought.

"Don't worry darling. It won't take long." The leader says above you, sounding genuinely sympathetic. "You though," he redirects, snarling at Jungkook. "you're gonna die slow."

Not able to breathe and the blood loss is making your head light. The room feels like it's spinning. Your eyes rolling back as they close. The reprieve of rest calling you into unconsciousness. And you can't resist.

With his hand held to your heart and his chest tight, Jungkook feels for a beat. The irregular rhythm assuring him you're still alive at least.

"I hope you really did love her. Like how I loved my girl and my boy. My wife. I hope you can feel that type of pain."

Jungkook is shaking. Unfiltered loathing ravaging his thoughts. A murderous expression concealing his heartache as he feels your pulse gradually start to slow.

Moving begrudgingly like it's his duty, the leader pulls one of the few remaining tools from its place on the wall. Wringing the handle of a large Philips Head screwdriver.

Working together, the three of them rip your unconscious body apart from Jungkook. His efforts to keep you close having little impact. Numerous injuries having sapped his strength.

Stretching him out, holding him down, they pin him with their weight. One of them securing his legs. Another holding his arm and torso, the majority of his heft used to force Jungkook's face into the cement. The leader kneeling all of his weight on his left arm to keep it flat.

As the tip of the screwdriver is pressed into his palm, Jungkook grapples to keep his hand closed to no avail. The shank piercing the meat of his palm. Screaming as the length is stabbed in and yanked out. Hissing through his teeth while the sharp point trails up. Reaching about halfway up his forearm it digs into the muscle. The blade slowly forcing its way into the skin, causing him to roar again.

All at once, a shot rings out. One of the intruders taking a bullet in the back. An assault of gunfire spreading across the height of the garage, sending the other two into a panic. Scrambling for their guns. Releasing Jungkook in the frenzy, who cradles his wounded hand for a moment before jumping on the attack. Finally having sufficient reinforcement to fight back.

Picking up the screwdriver with his good hand, he lunges at the surviving masked man. Dragging him off balance. Straddling his side. Stabbing down and around to drive the tool into his chest over and over. Burying the metal in the man's throat as a final strike. His damaged hand slamming down on the top of the screwdriver, forcing it through the other side of the man's neck.

Some of Jungkook's rage having been vented, he falls away panting watching the man, satisfied as he quickly bleeds to death.

The leader of the assailants, the source of all of this woe, is completely unmatched by the dozen men who suddenly surround him. They don't grant him the opportunity to even raise his weapon, shooting him in the shoulder, knocking him down. Incapacitating him and restraining him swiftly as he tries desperately to get loose.

There are a few seconds when the dust settles, where everything is quiet again. Only the sounds of wheezed breathing and footsteps taking any space.

Apart from the few men busy with securing the house and the area, all of them are at attention looking to assist their battered leader. Wanting to help. Waiting on an order.

"Her," he signals in your direction. "Get her to a hospital."

"You too, Boss." His second lieutenant leans down, helping Jungkook stand. Getting him to solid footing.

"I'm not dying in the next 20 minutes. Let's wrap this shit up first." He dismisses the gesture. Shirking off the pain at risk of appearing weak.

"And this one?" His first aims a gun at the intruders head.

"Patch him up. He's gonna die slowly," Jungkook's voice deepens as he repeats the man's own threat back at him.

His eyes following as he gets picked up and thrown into the trunk of one of the cars. The Mafia leader in him already, concocting ruthless plans in specific detail over all the ways he is going to torture him. And how he's going to silence any doubts about his strength that this attack may have caused.

Carried in another man's arms, you're taken to the back seat of a car. The movement string you awake. The pain keeping you immobilized and dazed.

Jungkook limping slightly follows after you. He presses his hand to your chest again, relieved as he feels your heart still beating, as he sees your eyes fluttering.

Your head laying on the seat, he leans over resting his forehead upside down on yours. "I'm so sorry baby." He whispers. His hands bunch tightly around your arms, pulling at your skin. The war of both sides of him crashing together. His eyes going cold, his breath becoming ragged.

Struggling to remain conscious, your eyes close again. Jungkook's bloody hand slapping down on your face, shocking your eyes back open. Tears instantly returning to your cheeks.

"Don't you dare die!" He hisses. His hand curls around your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks. "I'm not going to let other people think they can come at me. Take my things. Try to hurt me." He growls, speaking just loud enough for only you and him. "So you're gonna keep living Y/n. Cause until I give you permission, you don't have the right to die."

#bts fan fiction #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts jung jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #mafia jungkook #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #yandere #jungkook

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sparkbeast20 · 3 years

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The Mask (Lucifer X MC)

This a one-shot Fanfic, is part of my Halloween series “He Snaps”

short Angst/Fluff with Horror elements in them.

Tell me, which brother you want to see next (except Satan, his will be post on his birthday)

This one is inspired by the Masked Event and @fickleminder's post "Hear Me Cry"

and @amistytown and our share post here

Warning: Mention of Blood, Violence, Drugs, Injury and Demonic nature

He was wandering around the school grounds looking for you, both he and the masks on his face.

This night shouldn’t be like this, it was supposed to be a simple round trip to his brothers haunted house, with you.

Now the masks make him and brothers, think horrible things to the guest and especially you. All the horrific, and vile things his thinking to do, to you are running through his head. All the while he is conscious, trap in his own body, unable to take off the mask himself.

If he, had it bad, he can’t imagine what his brothers are thinking or wanting to do to you. He needs to find you. Even if he has the mask on, his still have a better control then his brothers.

Then again, at was his thought before you met up with him in the student council room, if it hadn’t for Diavolo come in, and take you with him. You would’ve been….

That’s the mask talking right? Telling his body to find you……. Yes, that’s it!

Lucifer is second doubting himself, if he should finds you or stay away from you.

On one hand, if he finds you, is a gamble whether or not he can control himself around you. One the other he stays away, he can “wander” to his brothers haunted house, so happen to see if his brothers are there in their respected houses.

The choice the latter.

But some he started to regret his decision, once he notice that Mammon and Levi aren’t in their house, and he saw was a piece of your RAD uniform on the floor. He doesn’t like this situation.

He quickens his walk to Satan and Asmo’s house, and see no sign of them, only met with a stench of a familiar smell, he quickly looks around to see a blood stain on the wall. A fresh one.

He started to panic in the inside, and didn’t notice a sound of a crack from his mask. He was to focus on getting to the twin’s house. If they’re not there, his main priority is to look for you.

As he walking to the haunted hospital of the twins made, he thought to himself. That you wouldn’t be this reckless to got each house and try to take masks off his brothers. But he quickly remembers that you are the same human, who didn’t listen to him to not go up to the attic, who jump Infront of him to protect his brother and a little angel from him, pointed the night dagger yourself instead of him. You are that reckless.

He finally made it to the hospital, he quietly opens the door and walk in.

Once inside, he heard Mammon and Asmo laughing in delight.

“They’re all here good” Lucifer breath a sigh of relief, soon he stiffed in fear once he heard your name uttered by Mammon.

“MC, come on stay awake” Lucifer started to breathed heavily, as his mask start to crack more.

He walks toward the chatter, as his heart race and eyes shifted back and forth. He stops right before open door at the end of the hall, and see Satan and Beel blocking his view of the exam table. He took a few steps closer to get a better look, Lucifer is stunned to what he saw on the exam table.

You laying on your back, facing towards the door with your eyes slightly open, with a cut on your cheek, your uniform ripped apart with your undershirt what left covering your chest, both arms aren’t even on the table and are dangling on the edge.

But what snap him out of his stunned state, was his brothers talking.

“Maybe, a put too much, tranquilizer in you, sorry about that. But we did want you to run back to the others, now would we.”

“This all your fault Belphie! I wanted to hear their lovely screams in fear” Asmo caress you bleeding cheek getting blood on his finger, then he took one and makes a small heart on your cheek and giggles.

“Do you think we should have told Lucifer about this” Levi voices his concern.

“NO!” Mammon yelled “They already choice him. If we told him about this plan, he would have kept MC all to himself once we trap them”

“And besides.” Satan chips in “I don’t trust him; it seems that he has some what of a control over himself. So, we wouldn’t tell if he’s on are side or not”

He couldn’t take it anymore; he was about to charger but his entire froze. Couldn’t move a muscle, only his eyes.

But the he’s sight landed on your face, and saw you blink at him and mouthed his name, and you try to reach out to him. But Beel saw your arm raise and quickly grabbing it and slamming it back on the table, breaking a bone.

That was the thing that finally set Lucifer over the edged.

The mask finally broke, the sound of it breaking causing the brothers to look what made that sound.

All of them gasps, and drop their tools, seeing Lucifer in his demon form with pure and utter rage on his face.

“L-L-Lucifer~” Levi stuttering was cut off, by Lucifer grabbing him by the throat and slamming him on the ground, he quickly uses his free hand to forcefully grab and pull the mask of him, causing Levi to groan in pain at his mask being taking off of him.

Then Lucifer whip his head towards Mammon and Satan, and runs towards them tackling them into the wall, and quickly grab both masks, breaking them while there is on his brothers faces. Both Mammon and Satan immediately fall on to the floor.

Then Lucifer turns his attention to Beel, who threw a punch at him, by quickly ducking and grabbing Beel by the torso and slamming him on the ground, and use both fists to slam on Beel’s face breaking the mask.

Lucifer is breathing heavily turn his head towards Asmo, who is shaking in fear.

“Lucifer, I- we ~” but he quickly met with a hand grabbing the lower part of his mask, and Lucifer pull Asmo’s mask up, because the curse on the mask, Asmo entire body followed his mask. Lucifer lifted him up over him, flipping Asmo over and slamming him on the empty exam table. Lucifer uses his other hand to grab Asmo’s chin, pry the mask off him.

Then finally, Lucifer growls and slowly turns his head to the youngest, who is still disbelief to all just happen. But quickly snap out of his shock by a hand grabbing him by the neck. Lucifer hoist him by neck, with his feet off the ground. Lucifer, slowly tighten his grip and slowly uses his other hand to grab and crush the mask on Belphie, then he lets go of his brother’s neck let him fall it to the ground.

He pants and look down at Belphie, before let out a monstrous roar.

An hour later

Mammon was the first one to wake up rubbing his head, start looking around. Soon one by one the brothers stared to wake up.

Then Asmo gasps and covered his mouth in fear to what he sees right now.

Lucifer kneeling on the ground, cradling you in his arms, as he sobs and racking back and forth.

Belphie is guilt redden, and chatting no, and quickly got up and rushes towards the two of you, But Lucifer roars at him, causing Belphie to stop dead on his track, and startling the others.

“DON’T YOU DARE TAKE ONE MORE FUCKING STEP CLOSER, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE KILLED!” Lucifer warns his baby brother and extension to the others. “I DON’T WANT TO SEE ANY OF YOU RIGHT NOW! LEAVE!!!”

Knowing that Lucifer is trying his best not to attack them right now, all of them quickly ran out of the room, leaving you two alone.

Lucifer whisper an apology, as he holds you tighter giving you warmth. You stared shifted in his arms trying to move your body.

“Love please, don’t move” his voice sound hoarse. “I’m sorry”

You lean closer into him, as you grab his chest, to calm him down.

“I’m…fine…. I…. just…. need…. some…. rest, that’s all” you start crying in his chest.

“I’ll make sure you have it love, now rest. I need to calm myself first. I won’t leave your side”

Note: Oh Man! I really when overboard with this one.

Its kinda my way to make up for the lack of action in my Pain of Love Fic.

Anyway thank you to @fickleminder and @amistytown for their post. I really need something for Lucifer’s story

I'll be posting the next story next week, I need to write some fluff to wash some of the angst. with my The sea for two (Leviathan X MC) fanfic.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reader x lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me he snaps one shot #obey me blood

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helpimhyperfixating · 3 years

Text

Photos and Crushes - Cowboy AU Jotaro x Reader P1

Look, I’ve been playing some Red Dead Redemption 2 again and I just got this idea. Sooo, rooty-tooty-guns-n-shootie, takes place in 1887 ish, America.

Part 2 | Part 3

Word Count: 7704

You are a kindhearted, positive, gentle person. Despite the harsh reality you live in, you try to see the good in people, even if it sometimes might not be there.

It has gotten you into plenty of trouble before but, it has gotten you so much more positivity as well.

Jotaro was one of those positive points. Angry, aggressive and dangerous in the eyes of others, you were one of the few who didn’t judge him for how he looked and carried himself. And thus, a miraculous friendship was born.

Whenever you would hang out together, people would always be wary of the strange duo, more so for your safety than what you would be up to. But you never paid them any mind. If they wanted to judge Jotaro, that was fine, but you wouldn’t let it ruin the time you had with him.

Jotaro, of course, noticed all the stares and whispers, but he didn’t give a shit.

When he had met you two years ago, you were being cornered by a couple of guys who had taken advantage of your kindness, pretending to ask if you could lead them to the general store, only to drag you into a secluded alleyway.

It just so happened that Jotaro had been across the street, seeing you happily chatting about the town to the boys, oblivious to the malicious glint in their eyes.

At first he didn’t want to get involved. He had seen you around before but never talked to you and if you were dumb enough to not see their true motive, why should he involve himself? But then you looked around and crossed eyes with him, and instead of instant swooning or darting your eyes away and cowering in fear, you sent him a polite smile and a wave, since you recognised him from around town. It surprised him, seeing you act so casually and greet him like a person.

Gritting his teeth, Jotaro looked down at his feet for a second, grabbing the bill of his hat in frustration, only to abruptly let it go and stand up, discreetly starting to follow you and the boys.

Not a few minutes later and the boys executed their plan, pulling you into an abandoned alley, much to your surprise. They didn’t get even twenty seconds before Jotaro slinked up behind them. Just the image and threat of the imposing nineteen year old was enough to get the boys to scamper off with their tails between their legs.

Upon being saved, you practically dragged Jotaro along, insisting on paying him a drink as thanks and from there on, the two of you hit it off.

Ever since then, you two regularly hung out. And Jotaro had taken it upon himself to become your self-appointed bodyguard.

Right now he was headed to the church.

The town you two lived in was of moderate size and, since there were so many people in one place, a small church was built there. But Jotaro wasn’t going to the church so he could pray to God, no, he was going because you were there.

He knew you had started teaching kids how to read. Most of them were homeless, piss-poor or sticky-fingered little brats, but you taught them all the same.

Jotaro had once pointed it out and asked if you knew what those kids were actually up to every day. You had answered with a shrug, saying it didn’t matter and that you just wanted to help them. Jotaro had just grumbled at that and pulled his hat down. It didn’t matter to him, as long as they kept their grubby hands off of your belongings and didn’t harm you.

He rounded a corner and the church finally came into view further down the dirt-path. For a second, Jotaro reconsidered whether he wanted to visit you or not. He had nothing to do and wanted to share in your company, but he also knew that if you weren’t done teaching yet, you would not go with him until you were; which would mean Jotaro either had to leave with his tail between his legs in front of a bunch of brats, or he had to sit down and endure their incessant squabbling.

Shaking his head, he just decided to go for it. Regrettably enough, Jotaro just really wanted to see you right now. Recently, a gang of thieves and murderers had swept through town and pretty much everyone had been holed up inside, making him unable to see or spend time with you.

Finally reaching the church, he looked past the gates to see you sitting on the steps, about eight kids with you, of which five were sitting around you, while the other three were fooling around on the small grass churchyard that sat in front of the steps.

God, you were beautiful. Jotaro could immediately tell some of these kids were violent, thieves and just straight nasty, yet you talked with them as if they were your own.

Your own.

Jesus, how his stomach twisted at the thought. You both were 21 now and Jotaro knew he should be looking to the future. If there was someone he wanted to be with, it was you. And just the thought of you, your belly swollen with his child? It shook him to the core.

As he reached the gate, he must have stared at you for a little too long because as soon as he had put two steps inside, the three boys that were kicking around on the grass stopped in front of him, seeming to be between the ages of eleven to thirteen.

“Whoa there, mister! What do you think you’re doing?” The dirty blond to his right said and Jotaro looked down at the boys, raising an eyebrow at them for stopping him. “We don’t like that look in your eyes.” The boy continued.

“Yeah, need we remind you you are on church grounds?”

“What were you staring at Miss Y/N for, mister? What do you want with her?” The third kid spoke up and Jotaro was now annoyed, feeling ticked off at their questioning.

“That’s my business, now get out of my way.” He glared, but though he could see he scared them, they held their ground.

“No! We are not letting you hurt her!”

“You wanna fight for it? Let’s go then!” The one right in front put his fists up.

“Yare yare daze, just move, kid.” Jotaro sighed, tilting his hat over his eyes to stay calm.

“Now you’ve done it! Haaa-!” The blond yelled out, punching Jotaro in the stomach, but the man didn’t even flinch. The kid’s eyes went big.

He looked to his friends for help and they got the hint, all three of them now rearing up for an attack as they each shouted a battle cry, going to throw punches while Jotaro grit his teeth in annoyance. As much as he despised these little shits, he couldn’t punch them, and so he just decided to let them vent and then move on.

Someone else however, heard the screaming. “Hey! What’s going o-! Oh! Hey, Jotaro!”

Your sudden happy greeting stopped the boys in their tracks and two of them stumbled as they made their punches go wide to miss the intimidating man.

Jotaro put his hand up in greeting and you beamed a smile, much to the confusion of the kids. You excused yourself from the five around you and walked over.

“So, what’s going on here?” You asked sweetly, yet there was a warning undertone in your voice.

“N-Nothing!” The blond squeaked, holding a not so convincing smile, his face screaming ‘guilty’.

“Good grief, I told you they were brats.” Jotaro once again lowered his hat over his eyes, feeling a kick to his shin that made him glare at the boy beside him, instantly making him run off in fear, the other two following not a second later.

“Oi, don’t be mean to my kids.” You scolded him, rapping your knuckles on the top of his head.

“They’re not your kids.” Jotaro deadpanned and you sputtered a bit.

“Yeah, well, not technically no, but-“

“That little shit stole from me two weeks ago.” He pointed to the auburn haired boy that had been standing to his left earlier.

“He did? What did he steal?” You questioned, your brows furrowing.

“Pack of cigarettes and my lighter. That shit ain’t cheap you know.” He grumbled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Oi, stop swearing every other sentence. You’re on church grounds.” You lightly smacked him on the chest while Jotaro just gave you a look that said ‘does it look like I care?’. “So... why are you here?” You then asked, diverting the subject.

“Just came by to see you.” Jotaro shrugged.

“Aw, how sweet.” You teased a little but a small blush did make its way onto your cheeks, making Jotaro’s heart skip a beat. Could that mean you...? No, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “Why don’t you come sit down?” You suddenly asked and Jotaro looked down at you.

“No, I don’t-“

“Too bad, too late!” You grinned as you grabbed his hand out of his pocket and dragged him back to the stairs with you, not even giving him any time to protest. “Everyone, this is Jotaro! Jotaro, this is everyone.” You smiled as you introduced him to the terrified kids on the stairs.

A small girl then slowly stepped forward, her hair almost white-blonde and braided in two braids down the sides of her head.

She looked up at Jotaro with big eyes, the man staring back, before smiling wide, holding her arms up at him and making grabby hands. “Uh.” Jotaro hesitantly looked at you while you just held the biggest smile.

“That’s Amelia, she’s seven years old and mute.” You explained before urging Jotaro with your eyes to do as she asked and pick her up.

Sighing, he leaned down and grabbed the girl under her armpits, easily lifting her up into his arms and looping an arm under her to hold her. Amelia immediately wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, smiling brightly as she looked into his eyes.

Jotaro averted his gaze from the girl in his arms, over to you, to see you nearly melting on the spot. He rolled his eyes in response to you freaking out. “Happy?” He grumbled out and you just nodded vehemently.

A tugging broke Jotaro from watching you and he looked down behind him to see a little boy tugging on his pants, pointing up at him.

“You want to go up too?” You questioned and the boy nodded enthusiastically, shouting out a ‘yeah!’.

“Wait, Y/N-“ Before he could do anything about it, you had lifted the boy and placed him on Jotaro’s back, letting him cling by himself since Jotaro was using both hands to hold the girl.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the disgruntled look on Jotaro’s face as the boy giggled loudly, clinging tightly on his back.

The other children were suddenly a lot less terrified, as two others stood up and started tugging on his pants as well. It was clear that the younger kids had stayed around you as you taught the lesson, while the older three had drifted a bit away. This meant however, that Jotaro was now surrounded by small kids, two of them on top of him.

“I’m not a horse you know.” He grumbled, looking at the two hanging on his pants a little warily, watching where they put their hands.

“You’re not, but you’re just as tall, if not taller, and a lot less dangerous.” You grinned, earning a glare from the man though you knew there was no real hostility in it.

Just then, the doors to the church opened and a nun came walking out. “Ah, miss L/N! How goes the reading?” She questioned and you turned your gaze from watching Jotaro, to the nun.

“Ah! It’s going fine, thank you! And thank you again for letting me use this space.” You smiled sweetly.

“Of course, our doors are open for you anytime.” The nun smiled back before turning to see the remarkable sight of Jotaro, surrounded by kids, holding a small girl while another child clung to his back. “Mr. Kujo.” She smiled, pleasantly surprised.

“Hello, Sister.” Jotaro greeted back. He may be a hardass, but he at least had respect for those who deserved it, unlike a lot of other people.

“It is good to see you again. Coming to visit Y/N I see?” She smiled and Jotaro dipped his head a little in response, both as a way to answer yet also as a way to hide his eyes from the Sister, for he knew she could look through him as though he was shouting out his thoughts and emotions. “Well, no matter.” The nun smiled slyly to herself, seeing through the action. “Who here is hungry?” She then spoke out a little louder and almost every tiny head perked up.

You giggled at the sight and swiftly moved to behind Jotaro, grabbing onto the boy hanging there and lifting him down from his back while Jotaro himself carefully sat the girl down. In a matter of seconds, all of the kids were lined up in a row and quickly started following the nun into the church, the doors closing behind them and leaving you and Jotaro on the steps.

“Whoo, they are always a lively bunch.” You chuckled, turning a little to face Jotaro before walking up to the stairs and sitting down on them, grabbing the book you had been working on with them, as well as the notebook and pencil.

“What book were you reading?” Jotaro asked, sitting down next to you. You took notice of how close he sat though, his arm touching yours as you sat side by side.

“King Arthur and the knights of the round table.” You said it in a fancy manner and held the book up for him as he took it from your hands.

“Knights? Really?” He scoffed as he briefly leafed through the pages and you playfully bumped your shoulder into his.

“Hey! It’s good for their imagination.” You chuckled. “Besides, it needs to be engaging for them. Lord knows I can’t try to teach them to read with the kinds of books you read. ‘How wagons are assembled’ or ‘how nature works’. Oh! Oh! ‘How a steam train or steam boat functions’.” You giggled a little as you poked fun at him, lowering your voice near the end to match his as best you could as you spoke.

“That’s not what I sound like.” Jotaro rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Sure you don’t, tough boy.” You leaned forward until you could look at him from under the brim of his hat, now hovering over his lap as you cocked your head with a smirk. “I have heard you rant about inventions and discoveries made more than anyone else, I’m pretty sure.”

Jotaro just scoffed and looked to the side, unable to hide his slightly embarrassed blush since you were right below him. Oh god, you were right below him, your face so close to his. He only needed to lean down a little and- Clearing his throat, Jotaro leaned back a bit, giving himself some space and prompting you to sit up again, none the wiser from what was going through his head.

“Hey, did you know they were setting up a new shop last week? Apparently you can get your picture taken there.” You suddenly started, looking forward through the churchyard as you mused.

“Oh?” Jotaro spoke, trying to sound disinterested yet listening intently.

“Would you... perhaps want to take a picture with me there?” You hesitantly asked and Jotaro’s heart skipped a beat though he didn’t show it. “I always wanted to see what I would look like on one of those.”

“Not very different from what you look like when you look in a mirror.” Jotaro cringed at how roughly that came out but he had said it before he could stop himself. He just hoped it didn’t dissuade you from wanting to take a picture with him.

“Say, are you insulting me, Mr. Kujo?” You teased lightheartedly, nudging him again and a tiny relieved smile played on Jotaro’s lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of ever insulting you.”

“Alright, now I know you’re just taking a piss.” You laughed. “Either way, what do you say we-!” You suddenly stopped your excited exclamation, catching Jotaro’s attention. “Oh wait, it’d probably cost a lot huh? Shoot, never mind, we can go do something else...” You deflated but quickly shook it off, perking up in feigned happiness again. “Do you have anything in mind!?”

Jotaro however, studied your face close. He hated to see how your excitement got washed away so quickly. “Yare yare.” Standing up from the stairs, he held his right hand out to you.

“Oh, you’ve got something?” You asked, seemingly back to your happy self as you put your hand in his and allowed him to pull you up.

“Let’s go get that picture taken.”

Your face turned into shock as he said that. “Wait, really? But I just said- I- you- You mean you’ll pay?”

“As long as I can be in it as well, yes.” Jotaro gently tugged your hand, still holding onto it as he now used it to coax you along. “Let’s go then, we don’t know when it closes and it is getting late.”

Jotaro started walking, very consciously keeping hold of your hand. As you fell into step with him, excitedly buzzing, he made a bold move as he re-gripped your hand to fit more comfortably in his; as if you were intentionally holding hands from the beginning instead of just still awkwardly holding on after Jotaro pulled you to your feet.

You didn’t seem any wiser while Jotaro felt his heart pounding in his throat, relishing in how his hand fit around yours, your hand unconsciously still holding onto his. He was so tempted to rub his thumb over the back of your palm or to actually entwine his fingers with yours, but decided against it since that would definitely draw your attention to your hands and he didn’t want that. Right now, he would just hold on, silently musing to himself how small your hand was compared to his and how right it felt to have your hand sat in his.

In this moment, it was one of the few times Jotaro was actually glad for your obliviousness.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the photography shop and you both stood in front of the door, slogans and examples of pictures slapped everywhere to lure people in.

‘Get your photo taken with your loved one and display the memory, so you may never forget!’

That and more was plastered on the display window, yet Jotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of that particular one. ‘With your loved one’. His attention automatically reverted back to how you were still holding hands and he had to try everything in his power to keep his face from heating up.

“Let’s go in!” You jumped once, breaking him out of his focus as you started dragging him to the door, opening it not a second later, the tall male in tow.

“Good afternoon, how can I help the lovely couple tonight?” A man standing in front of a camera asked when he saw you two come in, hand in hand.

“Oh, uh. We’re, uh.” Your face burst into flame as he commented that, your eyes drifted up to Jotaro and then to your entwined hands, realising you were still holding onto him.

You quickly made a move to let him go but Jotaro kept holding on, preventing you from pulling away as he squeezed your hand a little tighter.

“We’re here to get a picture taken, old man. What else.” He snapped a little and you sighed good-naturedly. Good ol’ Jotaro: intimidating people and being scary upon meeting them for the first time.

“Oh, haha, of course.” The owner chuckled nervously, though you swore you could hear him mutter a ‘I’m not that old’ as he turned to check his camera. “Uhm, you can just take your place in front of the background there.” He then smiled, motioning to the wall the camera was set up in front of.

The ‘background’ was a painting of an open plain, a rock formation with a modest waterfall in the back, as well as an eagle in the right hand corner.

Your jittery yet excited nerves for doing this came back, making you forget the flustering comment of the shop owner and you started walking towards the wall.

“Hope it’s gonna turn out alright.” You grinned up at Jotaro and he sent you a rare reassuring smile. It was small, but it was there, and suddenly, you were completely calm and ready to get this photo taken. The two of you took your place, Jotaro standing right up against you, making you blush.

“Alright.” The owner nervously rubbed his hands together, obviously still a bit scared of the nearly two meter tall man in black. “Ah, you are already in the perfect positions, you are naturals at this.” He tried to crack a joke but it came out a little awkward and he cleared his throat. “Look here please.” The man pointed at a spot right above the camera before ducking behind the device.

And just like that, the photos were taken.

After this entire time, Jotaro relinquished his hold on your hand, figuring it was best to let go, lest he was too obvious and even you would notice. Hell you, probably already did but thought nothing of it. Your obliviousness shining through again.

In the end, the two of you picked out the two best ones, nearly identical, and took one each.

That night, as Jotaro walked back home, he admired the photograph in his hand. He didn’t care much for how he looked in it, but it was the exact opposite with you. You looked so happy in it. Your smile shining bright and your energy nearly radiating off of it even through the photo. Yet what Jotaro treasured more than all in it, was the way your hands were entwined in the photo. Right in the middle, screaming for him to look at it. And look he did, feeling his cheeks heat up a little.

Opening the door to his home, he was immediately bombarded as his mother latched to him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Jotaro, you’re home!” She cheered happily. “You missed dinner so I put some to the side for you.” She smiled and Jotaro just huffed a little, pushing her off of himself. He wasn’t even hungry, he just wanted to go to bed.

That wish was short-lived however, as someone suddenly tackled him from behind, making him face plant into the floor.

“Jotaro! My boy!” The oh-so familiar voice of his grandfather sounded.

Question marks went off in the younger man’s head. His mother hadn’t told him the old man was coming for a visit?

“Get off.” Jotaro grunted as he attempted to shake his grandpa off but it was futile, as Joseph instead put him into a deadlock, pulling his arm behind his back and trapping it there, which made his eyes widen. The fucking photograph was in that hand and if that old man got even a single crinkle or fold in it, he would have his head.

“Good evening, Jotaro.” A familiar accented voice spoke and Jotaro looked up from under his hat to see Caesar sitting in the arm chair facing him, giving a disappointed look at Joseph.

“Caesar.” Jotaro grunted back a greeting as Joseph found that exact moment to twist his arm a little further.

“Oh, what’s this?” The voice on top suddenly curiously spoke and Jotaro felt the photograph be swiped from his fingers, making his eyes widen.

His grandfather was an expert at pinning people down thanks to years of random fights and being friends with Caesar. Yet you should never underestimate a desperate man trying to keep his dignity who also has a temper to match.

Thanks to Joseph using one hand to look at the paper in his hand, he had lost his hold on Jotaro’s right arm and the young man took full use of it.

Pushing himself up a bit, he threw the older man off of himself and turned around to swipe the photo back, but Joseph was way quicker and had used the momentum to get to his feet and run over to Caesar, standing behind his chair as he turned the paper around, feasting his eyes on the photo again.

“What’s this, Jotaro? Who’s that with you?” He asked in disbelief and Jotaro clenched his jaw. His mother, upon hearing her father say the sentence, zipped over and curiously looked at the photo as well, gasping a little once she saw it, before looking up at her son and sending him a giant grin.

Jotaro pulled his hat down a little and stomped over, attempting to swipe at the photo. “Give it back.” He growled as he tried to grab it, but Joseph moved it out of his reach.

“No way! You have some explaining to do, I mean, you’re smiling in this!”

“I’m not.” Jotaro grumbled, once again lunging forward to get it back, but Joseph tittered away, way too giddy and happy about what he was finding out about his grandson.

“Yes you are! Look! It’s small, but it’s there!” He turned the photo around and pointed at Jotaro’s face in it. Holly took a closer look and her proud grin grew even more.

“Would you stop, old man? It’s nothing, so just give it back.” Jotaro once again walked across the room to try and reach his grandfather, but Joseph danced out of his grasp once more, skipping over to Caesar who had stayed seated in this entire ordeal and showing the photo to his lifelong friend.

“Look Caesar! You see it too right?”

Caesar, who had had his eyes closed, opened them and slowly looked up at Joseph, grasping the photo with his left hand before harshly grasping his friend’s wrist, prying his hand away from the photo before getting out of the chair and moving over to the younger man.

“Here you go.” He spoke as he returned the photo.

“Thanks.” Jotaro spoke, a little unsure of what to say.

“Tell her how you feel soon. Don’t let it slip through your fingers.” Jotaro blinked a few times, feeling his face heat up a little as the Italian man gave the advice, speaking loud enough for only him to hear it. With a soft tug, he pulled down the brim of his hat over his eyes and nodded, quickly making his way out of the room so he could finally just go to bed.

As he walked through the hall, he heard his grandpa’s despairing cries, questioning Caesar why he would do that, and a small smirk appeared on Jotaro’s face. He could always trust in Caesar.

- - - -

Two weeks had passed and Jotaro was sitting on the steps of the church. To his left, he heard your gentle and caring voice reading passages of the book to the kids around. To his right, the little girl, Amelia, was practically glued to his hip as he read his own book, just silently sitting through your class.

He had been doing this more and more frequently, just coming by every once in a while, not really saying anything and just sitting with you as you taught the kids.

As he turned the page of his book, he suddenly felt something being lifted from his front pocket however and he snapped his head up, looking to his left to see the dirty blond, who he now knew as Jack, lifting his pocket watch from its place. The boy immediately noticed he was found out and bolted, laughing as he ran across the grass to the fences on the other side.

Jotaro however, was pissed as he slammed his book shut and walked over to Jack with large strides. “Give it back.” He spoke lowly, a threatening glare directed at the boy.

Jotaro physically saw him gulp, smirking a little to himself to see he still had his intimidating presence with these kids. But it was short lived, since Jack seemingly found a bit of courage again - continuing on with the plan, unknown to Jotaro.

“Why? I’m sure you can buy another one. Unless... this one is special?” Jotaro narrowed his eyes dangerously and Jack could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked open the watch and there was a triumphant glint in his eyes. “Aha.” He spoke and smirked up at Jotaro, only for that smirk to leave as he saw the dangerous aura radiating off of the man. “Tommy!” He yelled and threw the pocket watch, making Jotaro’s heart sink for a moment, scared it would drop on the stone steps and break.

“You little shit.” He glared at Jack before turning around to Tommy, who was standing on the steps of the church.

“Hey, what’s going on!” You called out, looking up from your book while the children around were trying to write letters in your notebook.

Tommy immediately took this chance and rushed over to you when Jotaro started taking threatening strides towards the boy. He didn’t want to hit a kid but so help him god, he would get that pocket watch back. Jotaro wasn’t fast enough however, as Tommy zipped over to you and flipped the pocket watch open, shoving it in your face.

Jotaro faltered in his steps, nervous sweat rolling down the side of his face. Those little brats had planned this all out. They knew. Jotaro hated to say it, but he had made it too obvious that he was sweet on you and they knew.

“Jotaro!” Your exclamation of surprise ripped him from his thoughts and he looked over at you, doing his best to keep an expression of indifference. “How did you manage to do this? I had to make a bigger frame to fit mine!” You turned the pocket watch around so he could see the inside, showing the clock on the right while on the left, on the inside of the cover, he now had a perfect view of the photograph of the two of you that he had stuck in there.

Jack and Tommy groaned while Jotaro’s shoulders slumped a bit. In both relief, as well as disappointment for some reason, seeing you were none the wiser.

Jotaro just waved his hand a bit, dismissing your question as he walked over and took the pocket watch back from you. Looking it over to see if it was damaged but luckily, it wasn’t. Concluding that, he flipped it shut and put it back in the pocket where it belonged.

“Well?” You looked up at him with hopeful and curious eyes and Jotaro pulled his hat down over his face. You looked... cute.

Jotaro didn’t lift his hat as he took his spot next to you again. “I went back and had a photograph taken of the photograph.” He said through gritted teeth, reluctantly telling you how he did it, embarrassment flooding through him over having to admit that.

“Oh, that’s so clever! I should do something like that as well.” You giggled, then dreamingly looked forward.

You were pulled out of it by a small tug on your sleeve. “Miss Y/N, can we have a break?” The small boy asked and you smiled sweetly, nodding.

“Of course, you go ahead and play for a bit.” You shoo’ed all the kids and they erupted into talk and laughter, all of them getting up and finding a place to play.

As the kids were running around a bit during the break, a shadow got cast over a specific pair of boys, making them freeze and slowly turn around to the imposing figure. “Tommy. Jack. Any of you touch my shit ever again and I will make you severely regret it.” The threat and danger in Jotaro’s voice was real and the boys swallowed heavily, nodding frantically before busting out into a sprint, running away as far as possible before squeaking as Jotaro made his way back over to them, since they had ran towards where you sat on the steps and that was where Jotaro wanted to sit down again as well.

“Did you have to scare them like that?” You questioned with a chuckle and Jotaro just huffed in amusement as he sat down.

“Yes. They need to know not to take my stuff.”

“You know, you’re right. That is a good lesson to learn.” You chuckled, only for your smile to slowly dim down as your attention got taken by several pairs of horse hooves thumping across the ground. “What’s that?” You questioned as you looked at the large group of riders, watching them trot closer and closer, slowing down the closer they got to the church. All of them carried rather large guns and other weapons.

You nervously looked up at Jotaro, who had his eyes narrowed as he looked at the large group as well. “Stay alert.” He spoke quietly and you nodded, the both of you getting up.

Jotaro whistled loud and curtly, gaining the attention of all the kids. You quickly motioned your arms for all of them to come, not wanting to verbally shout it just in case the riders would hear and take it the wrong way.

Taking the hint, the kids all started to run into your arms and Jotaro took a step forward, holding his arms out a little to keep you and the children behind him.

Everyone had fearful looks as Amelia was the last to reach you, running behind you and around, hanging on the back of Jotaro’s pants. It wasn’t a few seconds later that the riders all stopped in front of the church.

“Howdy, partner.” The leader of the herd spoke up after a few seconds but Jotaro immediately picked up on the false friendliness in the voice.

“What do you want?” He bit back, glaring vehemently.

“Whoa, so angry.” The man mocked with a large grin, turning back to his friends behind him who laughed softly. “You should show me some respect you know.” He then continued, turning back to Jotaro with that grin still on his face. “Did your momma never teach you respect?” He continued jesting but Jotaro didn’t give any reaction, just holding the intimidating glare on the man.

This made him feel as if he was losing grip of the situation, so the man decided to take another approach and laughed a bit while calling out. “Why don’t I teach you some then?” He jokingly pointed his gun at Jotaro and the children whimpered and gasped in fear from behind him. Your grip on his trenchcoat tightened and Jotaro’s reaction was immediate, his right hand pulling back to behind his back before snapping forward, a gun now pointed at the man’s head.

“Try it.” Jotaro’s voice was low and dangerous and even the rider took note of it. “I know exactly what you’re up to. This is a community church, it has nothing of value for you, so take your little group and piss off. You’re scaring the children.” Jotaro calmly spoke as he stared down the barrel of the gun, showing not even a hint of fear, nervousness or hesitation.

“Now... calm down, friend.” The man tried, re-gripping his gun a little nervously.

“We ain’t friends and you know it. Get the hell away from here.” Jotaro’s hand was as steady as ever, his gun constantly pointed at the man’s head without even a single tremor or twitch from holding the iron up.

This angered the man. “You seem to not understand that you are outnumbered here, friend.” He spoke, calling Jotaro that again on purpose, signalling his mates in the meantime, who all grabbed a gun and pointed it at Jotaro as well.

The children cowered even more, small shrieks leaving them and you tried to shush them. “It’s alright, just stay behind me and Jotaro. You’re alright.” You spoke in a hushed tone, petting the heads of those you could reach. You discreetly saw the door to the church open and saw the Sister poke her head out. You quickly and frantically shook your head, a message for her to stay where she was.

“Are you really going to threaten children on church grounds?” Jotaro questioned calmly and the leader growled a bit in anger.

“Stop acting so smug or I’ll blast your head off! And that of that girl too! Give those brats something to look at!”

“Threaten her again and I’ll make sure you’ll never speak again.” Jotaro’s retort was immediate as he glared at the man, lowering his gun just a little to point directly at the mouth of the loud-mouthed bastard.

“Hit a nerve?” The guy smirked. “I’ll say it again, you’re outnumbered.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, son.” A new voice spoke up and everyone’s head whipped to the source. “What’s going on here?” The sheriff spoke, tilting his head a little while two of his deputies joined his side, all of them having their hands hovering over the guns strapped to their belts.

Now that there were a lot more possible enemies, the man wavered. Slowly and reluctantly, he lowered his gun. “Nothing, sheriff. Just a bit of harmless fun.” He spoke and his friends took it as a sign to lower their guns as well.

“Was it? ‘Cause as far as I can see you are threatening innocent children. Now, will you move on yourself or will we have a problem?”

“Tch.” The man gritted his teeth before hitting the reins of his horse, simultaneously softly kicking his feet into its belly, making the animal start calmly stepping forward, the rest of his group following his example as they started riding away at a slow pace.

“Follow them and make sure they leave proper.” The sheriff whispered to his deputies before leaving them to their business and walking over to the gate leading into the church grounds.

Jotaro kept his gun up the entire time the gang of riders were riding away, all of them sending occasional glances back that kept Jotaro on high alert. Only once the deputies rode past and started tailing the men did he finally lower it.

Once he un-cocked the gun and sighed out, the children still cowering behind the two of you finally relaxed a little, two of them bursting into tears as the sheriff walked through the fence and towards the steps of the church - to which you immediately started trying to console them.

“Holy crap! You just won that standoff singlehandedly!!” Jack shouted as the sheriff stepped into earshot, the boy jumping in front of Jotaro with his hands thrown in the air as he looked at the man before him in awe.

“That was so cool!! It was like twenty to one and you still won!” Tommy piped in with an exaggerated number and Jotaro lowered his hat over his eyes, softly letting out his usual catchphrase.

“Are you boys all alright?” The sheriff walked up and Jotaro lifted his gaze again, briefly looking back to see you had succeeded in calming the children down, four of them now clinging to you in a group hug as the doors to the church opened properly, the nun quickly walking out to help comfort the children.

“Yes. Thank you for stepping in.” Jotaro spoke back, nonchalantly putting his gun back in its place, hidden behind his trenchcoat.

“Well, that’s my job.” The sheriff joked before turning a little more serious. “What happened exactly?”

Jotaro looked back at you once again, seeing you now quietly talking with the kids to calm them down. This earned him an elbow poke in the ribs from Tommy and he glared at the kid, making said boy giggle to himself and drag Jack with him, running over to you.

“They came to rob the church, believing it to have many riches like those city churches have, probably.” Jotaro sounded a little indifferent as he turned back to look forward and the sheriff hummed.

“Mr. Kujo saved us, sheriff Miller.” The sister spoke as she walked up, placing a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder blade. Jotaro just looked down at the nun, getting a grateful smile from her and he gave a small barely noticeable nod back.

Something suddenly latched onto his right leg and Jotaro looked down to see Amelia hanging on his pant leg, burying her head into the fabric.

Jotaro just looked at her for a second. He didn’t know what he had done to get her like this, but Amelia had really attached herself to him. Jotaro on the other hand, still had no idea what to do around children. He awkwardly patted her on her head, making her look up. “Go to Y/N, it’s alright.” He spoke, trying his best to sound gentle but it still came out quite gruffly, regrettably enough.

Amelia didn’t seem to care though and stayed latched on his leg while both the nun and the sheriff chuckled discreetly at the young man trying his best. Crouching down to get on eye height with the girl, the sheriff got her attention. “Are you alright?” He asked and Amelia turned her head, half of her face still buried in Jotaro’s trousers but still paying attention. She nodded softly and the sheriff smiled.

“Why don’t you go to Miss L/N, Mr. Kujo? I’ll handle the rest.” The Sister smiled and Jotaro nodded at her, turning around.

Amelia let go of his leg and instead grabbed his hand, trying to pull him along now as she tried to hurry over to you.

Once he was close enough, you noticed and got up, turning around to face him. Amelia let go of his hand and ran to her friends while your eyes crossed with Jotaro’s.

Tears were pricking in the corners and that shocked Jotaro slightly. He had no time to react as you ran over to him and jumped into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you buried your head in his shoulder.

He immediately caught you, wrapping his arms around your body and holding it against himself to hold you up. Yet, his eyes were wide as he felt his heart thump. He had no idea what to do. He felt you pressing your face even deeper into his neck, trying to keep yourself from crying in front of the children but Jotaro knew you wanted to, more than anything.

His brain short-circuited and all he could think to do was tighten his hold on you, letting you know he was there.

Some noises to his left caught his attention and he looked over to see Jack and Tommy making kissy faces at him. In an immediate reaction he kicked a rock that lay at his foot to them, making them dodge it and giggle while running away again, joining the other kids while Jotaro silently grumbled to himself, trying to calm his beating heart.

“You alright?” He asked after a minute more of silence and he felt you nod into his shoulder.

“Yeah... you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jotaro questioned and you lifted your head, leaning back a bit to look at his face. Your eyes were a bit red and you sniffled softly.

“Well.” You started with a small sad chuckle. “You did just nearly die.”

To that, Jotaro rolled his eyes. “You clearly read the situation wrong then.” He put you back on your feet, looking to see the nun walking back over to the children while the sheriff was now walking away, sticking his hand up as he looked back in a goodbye before turning around fully and walking back to his horse.

Because he was looking to the sheriff walking away however, he was unable to brace himself when you took a few steps back and jumped right into him, tackling him to the floor.

A heavy ‘oof’ left him as he crashed to the ground with you right on top of him. You immediately sat onto his stomach and Jotaro had to try very hard to suppress a blush at the sight.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of seeing things wrong when I am just worried for your safety.” You spoke, poking his chest in warning, but the teasing look in your eyes told Jotaro exactly what you were thinking.

In return, Jotaro grabbed your wrists and rolled the two of you around so that you were now pinnend under him. “I will accuse you, because you will always remain oblivious.” He spoke, his voice sounding a little strained even though he held a small smirk.

“Oblivious to what?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes. Jotaro didn’t say anything, just looked deeply in your eyes. Neither of you really noticed he was leaning down until his face was inches from yours.

Yet before anything else could happen: “GET HIIIIMMM!!” A young voice screamed out and Jotaro jerked his head back up, looking up past his shoulder only to have three different bodies flung on top of him.

You burst out laughing at Jotaro’s surprised face that only you had a view of, even though you were still trapped under the man, his hands on either side of you as he attempted to keep himself from toppling over and crushing you.

“No, no! Oh dear.” You heard the Sister laugh, having tried to stop the children, only to fail miserably as six of the eight were now on top of Jotaro, trying to bring him down.

Part 2 | Part 3

#hopelessly in love joot hours #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo #jojos bizarre adventure #cowboy au #jjba au #jjba #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #long awaited and I hope you like it cause I love it #jotaro x you #jotaro x y/n #jotaro #kujo jotaro #cowboy jotaro

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

The Redemption Final part

When you all come back, you immediately feel that something is wrong. It is too quiet and all of the lights are switched off. You all get your weapons out, just in case. This is when you hear it: something being dragged on the floor. You turn towards the source of the noise and see Jason, walking slowly towards you with an axe in hand. He stops in front of you, waiting for something. You then see Michael appear on your left. To your horror, he holds father Cornelius in his grip who looks around with a small apologetic smile.

"Well, hello there everyone..I'm truly sorry, they took me by surprise. I did have the time to send the rest of the staff home and lock the patients in their rooms and Five went to warn his siblings that should be arriving soon."

You nod gratefully at the priest before looking up at the two slashers that seem to be under some kind of transe. You try to use the amulet, but they don't respond.

"Michael..Jason..Please..You don't have to do this."

" Don't waste your breath. They've been broken and will only listen to me.."

You see John appear behind them and grit your teeth at the irritating blond man that seems to enjoy himself immensely. He grabs Michael's jaw and chuckles darkly while staring directly in his empty blue eyes.

"I know why you seem to like them so much..They are very touching in the end. Very useful too.."

You close your hands into fists and John notices your frustration, tilting his head to the side with an amused smirk. Freddy glares at John and steps forward to protect you, raising his blades menacingly at John.

"I won't let ya hurt her, bucko !"

But, John doesn't seem impressed and only laughs at Freddy before turning towards Jason with an amused smile.

"That's what we'll see..Jason ? How about you get rid of the ugly one for me ?"

Freddy raises his middle finger at him.

"Who are ya callin' ugly, Draco Malfoy wannabe ?!"

Freddy then runs towards John, dodging Michael and raising his gloved hand to cut John's head, but Jason puts himself in front of him and punches Freddy who is sent flying through the air.

Jason walks towards Freddy in order to finish him, but Liam distracts him by shooting at him. Jason is about to attack him as well when John screams.

"That's enough !"

Jason stops dead in his tracks and John throws Father Cornelius to the ground before pointing his gun at the back of his head.

"You have a choice, nurse Y/N. This man will die if you don't give me that amulet..I know what happened to Freddy's sister. You need to give it to me and give it to me properly, got it ?!"

"No ! Don't do this !"

Father Cornelius screams, but is silenced by John who thrusts the head of his gun harder against his head.

"Give it ! Now ! Or Father Cornelius will get back to his maker !"

He yells and you hesitate before turning towards Freddy with tears in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry.."

He understands and tips his hat at you with a small sad smile.

"Bah..I ain't mad. We've had a good run, right sweetheart ?"

You try to remain your composure, but you can't help but embrace him, knowing that it will probably be your last..Freddy returns it before you both take a step back, not willing to give John the occasion to see your moment of weakness longer than necessary. You walk towards John and give him the medallion. He smiles triumphantly before throwing Father Cornelius at you.

You catch him and John immediately orders Freddy to kneel.

"Ya kinky motherf*cker.."

Freddy cackles mockingly and, to your horror, John orders Freddy to cut off his own tongue. You try to stop him, but Micheal immobilizes you and you can only stare in horror as Freddy raises one of his sharp blades to cut it. The noise of the blade cutting through wet flesh makes you close your eyes. You can't watch. When it's finished, Freddy throws his tongue to the ground and you can see the blood running down his chin. You start crying and curse your own powerlessness. He turns towards you and smiles reassuringly at you, trying to seem brave for you.

You then see Pennywise and Penny get out of the van and run towards John to kill him, but they stop immediately when he holds your talisman high in the air. You scream as you try to get out of Michael's grip once more, but fail miserably as he presses you face down in the dirt. Suddenly, John's feet are in front of you and you look up to find him looking down at you with a smug smile.

"How does it feel to lose, nurse ?"

You grit your teeth and, in a last desperate effort to stop him, take a handful of dirt to throw it at his face. He grunts in pain and takes a few steps back. The talisman falls to the floor and, just as you are about to get it, someone else picks it up. You look up to find..Eva ?! She looks at the talisman and then, glances at you and at John. John stands up and extends his hand towards her.

"Give it to me, Eva..I love you."

She is on the brink of tears, but responds with a tender smile.

"I love you too.."

Before giving you the talisman, but then, a blade pierces through her and blood splatters on you as a result. You can barely make out the shape of Jason behind her.

"NOOOOO !"

Both you and John yell before running to her aid. You quickly take out your medical equipment to help her and stop the blood from flowing out of her wound. She looks up at you with tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry...Y/N. I did my best..I just.."

"Don't talk !"

You instruct her and John seems as panicked as you and kisses her forehead lovingly.

"Why did you do it, Eva ? Why did you give it to her ? You know that you can't give something that isn't yours..The talisman doesn't allow it. So, why ?!"

She strokes his cheek tenderly and smiles fondly up at him.

"We were wrong, John..They are people. Real people. They're not monsters.."

John sobs and takes her hand in his before kissing the palm of it and Eva gets the talisman out and puts it in John's hand.

"Please..Give it back."

She implore him and John is shaking as he nods and takes closes his finger over the talisman. He then does as she requested and hands it to you.

"Here..Make it stop."

You nod in agreement before looking down at the amulet now in your hand, then glance up at the hospital plunged into darkness, all but the main hall where you see that there's a fire still burning. You then look at Michael, Jason and Freddy, all still trapped inside this weird transe. You then step inside confidently and open the main entrance door, Liam next to you.

"Are you sure about this ?"

You nod confidently before walking further inside the empty hospital that seems too quiet for your liking..The fire is still burning, yet you feel shivers running down your spine. You take a big breath to give yourself courage before throwing the talisman to the fire. However, Brahms gets out from behind the fire and grabs the talisman before it can hit the ground. He then walks through the fire and stands tall in front of you. Liam has his riffle pointed at him, but he knows that shooting won't do any good..You hear someone clapping behind you and turn around to face an old man and Kayla. To your sheer horror, Brahms gives them the talisman and the two clowns—that you were beginning to wonder where they had gone to—appear by their side. Their eyes are glowing in the dark and you can hear them salivating, looking at you and John as if you are tasty meals and they haven't fed in weeks. You take a step back and the old man takes a step forward to introduce himself.

"I am Sir Reginald Hargreeves. It is an honor to finally meet you, nurse Y/N. I've noticed that a lot of the slashers seem to be rather fond of you ? Unfortunately, I can't let you leave this hospital in one piece. A shame. I'm sure you would have made a great addition to the team.."

You glare at him, but your eyes soften as they land on Penny and Pennywise, stalking you like predators with their sharp teeth bare. You know that they are trying to fight it, but the talisman is now in Sir Reginald's hands and they can't do anything but obey when he orders them.

"Kill them."

The two creatures pounce on you and you are barely able to roll on the floor to dodge their attack. Liam starts shooting at Pennywise who is closest to him. Pennywise hisses in pain at him and attempts to cut off his head, but Liam suddenly lowers himself just in time and succeeds in shooting Pennywise in the head, which makes him fall on his back with a part of his head missing. Penny growls at Liam and tries to go check on Pennywise, but Reginald shouts.

"Don't worry about him ! Kill them !"

Penny falls on all fours and lets out gut-wrenching screech as claws start growing out of his fingers and his back starts arching and tearing his suit apart. When the transformation is complete, you find a giant spider with glowing red eyes staring at you, it lets a piercing cry that makes you wince and cover your ears. You need to get your hands on that talisman ! Just at that moment, you hear the sound of an engine outside and are shocked to see a car get in by demolishing the entrance door and running straight into Penny. Suddenly, Five and his siblings get out of the car and face their father. Kayla steps back in fear, as she sees that the odds seem to not be in their favor..Sir Reginald grits his teeth before turning towards Kayla and giving her the talisman.

"Hold on to that and don't let it out of your sight, got it ?!"

She nods vividly in agreement before Sir Reginald steps forward to stare at his children with unhidden discontent. Obviously, he didn't plan on them being here.

"What are you doing, Five ? Children ? Ridiculing yourselves again, I see ?"

Five glares at his father's cruel comment before answering him coldly.

"And you ? What are you doing here, father ? Still trying to break us apart ?"

Sir Reginald's hateful glare matches Five's and they both stare at each other intensely for a moment before Sir Reginald finally lets out a humorless chuckle.

"Still mad about me sending you here, Five ? Come on..You know that it was all part of the plan. I needed to find a way to know how the slashers could be controlled ? It was never personal.."

Five clenches his knuckles and repeats, unable to comprehend how the man who had raised him could have done this to him ? His own son ?

"It was never...personal ?! You made me believe that I was crazy only to get your hands on the amulet ?! How much worse can you get ?!"

Reginald huffs at Five's question before simply shrugging nonchalantly.

"As I said, it was never personal. Now, how about you children come back home and I'll make sure to forget all about your little rebellion, hmm ?"

Five feels the rage coursing through his veins like pure untamed energy and his siblings stand by his side, feeling that same energy coursing through their own veins and Sir Reginald arks an eyebrow at them before taking a step back and taking back the amulet back from Kayla.

"Have it your way !"

He finally exclaims before raising the amulet in the air, calling back all the slashers. They all answer the call and soon, you see them all standing between you and Reginald.

"ATTACK !"

Reginald orders and the slashers suddenly move forward, forced to face the Hargreeves, Liam and yourself. Hugo succeeds in immobilizing Michael by impaling him to a broken coat hanger and Diego throws enough knives at Jason to slow him down. You all start fighting and you seem to be winning at first, but the slashers have healing and regenerating powers. You don't. Exhaustion and your physical wounds start taking their toll on you and it shows as the slashers start inflicting more important injuries to the Hargreeves and yourself, not slowing down or losing any strength in their attacks. However, a voice sudden raises behind you.

"Get down !"

You see Vanya...floating ?! The Hargreeves seem to all understand what's going on and get down, you decide to follow their lead and yank Liam down to the floor with you just as a massive wave of energy surges above your heads and make all the slashers collapse.

Unfortunately, Reginald and Kayla got into safety just in time, but the talisman slipped out of Sir Reginald's hands during the attack and Kayla crawls to get it back. She grabs it, but when she wants to use it, feels something pointy and sharp at the back of her neck.

"Don't even think about it, b*tch."

You're surprised to see..Victor ?! He has a drilling machine in his hand and thrusts it painfully against Kayla's forehead as she begs.

"No ! Please !"

She hands Victor the amulet that he grabs and puts in his pocket before knocking her out with the handle of the drill. He then smiles at you before winking at Liam.

"Good news ! The hospital released me early ! So..Did you miss me ?!"

Liam rolls his eyes dramatically, but still can't hide the small smile on his face.

"Yeah..I'm glad you came just in time."

Sir Reginald, seeing that they are going to lose, tries to get away discreetly, but is stopped by a knife against his throat.

"And where do you think you're going, grandpa ?"

Amita says before digging the sharp side of her knife against Reginald's throat. He raises his hands in surrender. Victor then gives you the talisman and you look back at the slashers, still knocked unconscious on the floor.

"Are you really going to free them ? They are monsters. We were only trying to keep them under control..Can't you see what they are ?"

Sir Reginald tries to convince you, but you shake your head.

"I know what they are...It doesn't mean I don't love them all the same."

Sir Reginald's eyes widen at your words.

"L..Love ?! How ?! Are you mad ?!"

You chuckle bitterly at the irony in his words..A mad nurse ? Well, everyone's got a part of madness in them, don't they ?

"Maybe..Maybe it is madness ? Maybe I'm just a foolish girl that follows a hopeless dream to help people or monsters who can't be saved ? But, damn it ! I would be even more foolish not to try !"

You look down at the talisman in your hand and—without a second thought—throw it inside the fire..You don't need it. Sir Reginald grits his teeth as he sees the talisman fall into ashes. You then hear multiple groans and moans of pain behind you and turn around to see the slashers waking up. They all seem to remember what they did as Brahms immediately breaks into tears.

"I'm sorry..I didn't want to.."

He sobs and you put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Ssh..I know."

You take him in your arms and his tears wet your shirt as he tightens his hold on you. He remembers everything..He remembers what he did and everything they said..He is trembling and you can't do anything but hold onto him and make sure that he feels that you're not mad at him. However, you hear grunts of pain near you and raise your head to find Michael—still impaled on the coat hanger—and having troubling getting it out of him. You run to help him. As soon as he's up, Michael collapses on you and you're forced to sit down.

"Is it..over ?"

He asks in a weak voice and you reply with a small smile and a nod of affirmation.

"We've won..It's over."

Michael nods back and lets out a sigh of relief, but is too tired and injured to move. He leans back and smiles, gazing at you through half-lidded eyes.

"I think..I think I'm going to lie down for a bit.."

Your eyes widen and you feel tears filling your eyes.

"Michael..Don't die, okay ?"

He chuckles before nodding.

"I'll try, sunshine.."

You know that he can't technically die ? But, you also know that everyone's got their limits. You'll call the nurses later to take care of him. Suddenly, you hear police sirens outside and Amita as well as Liam go out to explain the situation to them. Victor takes Kayla outside and the Hargreeves also step outside, only leaving Five and you behind. You ark an eyebrow at Five as the sounds of sirens get closer and stop just in front of the hospital.

"Really ? They're coming now ?"

Five shakes his head in disbelief.

"We called them as soon as we got here, but apparently, they need "special authorization* to intervene at the hospital ?"

You roll your eyes at that before frowning at what he said.

"Wait...Whose special authorization ?"

Five shrugs before looking up at his father who is now staring at him intently.

"I'll bring him outside."

He tells you and you absent-mindedly agree by nodding, too preoccupied taking care of the slashers' injuries to truly register what he just said, or that he got out by the wrong door. Five keeps walking, tightening his hold on his father as he think of what to do with him ? He couldn't possibly hand him to the police ? He knows that he would go out easily..They both stop at the river surrounding the hospital and making a separation between the building and the forest nearby. Five huffs a laugh as he admits.

"I can't believe I still had hope for you..After everything you did to me ?"

"I could say the same about you.."

Sir Reginald replies before turning around to face Five with a small smile Five can only describe as..sad ? He never looked at him like that. They both stare at each other until Sir Hargreeves asks.

" So...Is this how it's going to end ? Me killing you or you, killing me ? A bit too cliché, dont you agree, my young Œdipus?"

Five's breath quickens as he realizes that, this is it. He is about to kill his father. It's the only way to ensure his and his siblings' safety.

"Œdipus never knew his father...But, I do. I know you. I know the monster. You're the one who sent me at St Louis and made me believe that I was insane !"

He screams before getting out his gun and pointing it at Reginald with a shaking hand. Sir Reginald only gives his son the same sorrowful smile and takes a step forward, so the head of the gun is pointed directly above his heart.

"And, you know the father. The one who had such high hopes for you. The one who told you that using your powers would be too risky..You disobeyed me, Five. I'd like to point out that I never desired to break you. I merely sought to foster your potential - which was unfortunately, never that vast."

Five's rage only grows at his father's words.

"I trusted you.."

He finally utters, his tears invisible in the dark as his father takes a profound inspiration before looking up at the sky with a smile.

"The stars are very bright tonight, aren't they ?"

Five knows that his father is trying to make it easier for him, which doesn't make it easier at all. He closes his eyes and turns his face away before finally firing the gun. He hears the loud splash of a body falling in the river and doesn't even look at it before walking away. He wipes his tears away and gets back inside, ready to tell his family what he's done and face the consequences..He will save them, no matter the cost..

Outside :

You frown as you don't see anyone coming back and step outside to see what's going on. You see Kayla being escorted to a police car, but when she sees you, she smiles. Her smile freezes the blood in your veins, it is not a smile of someone who lost..You tear your eyes from her to focus on John who is now crouched next to Eva and takes her in his arms bridal style, ready to go inside one of the police cars with her in his arms.

"We're going home.."

He whispers in her ear, but you quickly run to him and scream.

"You're not taking Eva !"

He stops dead in his tracks and turns around to face you with a nasty scowl.

"I love her !"

He screams back and your breath hitches at his confession. But, you shake your head and don't give up.

"She's not a pawn ! If you truly love her ? You'll leave her with us ! She is hurt ! Badly ! She'll be safer with us ! If you truly love her? Don't make her fall with you..Take your sister, and go !"

You can see that he is hesitating, but he finally looks up at you with almost imploring eyes.

"Please..She is everything I have left.."

You have trouble finding words to say to him..He seems to truly care for her ? But, you don't have to.

"Can you promise us that she will not come looking for us ?"

You let out a small cruel laugh which astonishes even yourself as you answer, your voice dripping with venom as all the things he's done comes back to your mind.

"Why would she ever come looking for you ?"

His eyes widen at your harsh words, letting you see how hurt he truly is by them, which makes you feel bad..but, you then remember that he is the reason she got hurt in the first place and only glare unforgivingly at him. Finally, he walks towards you with resolve and puts her in your arms.

"Take care of her.."

He utters in barely a whisper before being dragged away by policemen.

"Better than you ever did."

You reply harshly before turning around and placing her in Victor's arms.

"Take her to the medical bay, the other nurses will arrive soon."

He nods before running inside. You then remember a question that you have to ask to the Watson siblings before they go. You run and get to them before the car drives them away.

"Where is my uncle ?!"

John seems surprised by the question, not even knowing who your uncle is ? He shakes his head, not knowing the answer to your question.

"I don't know.."

He answers truthfully before being taken away, the police cars disappearing in the dark. Kayla's smile suddenly reappearing in your mind..What did that mean ?

A few months later :

Everything is back to normal and the slashers all seem to be feeling better. However, you are worried as Arthur is still missing. Pennywise told you what happened and you're pretty sure he is back in Gotham, somewhere ? Liam promised you he would look into it as soon as he is back in the hospital he currently works at in Gotham. He is about to get back to the other facility he's been working at and you smile as you both are waiting for his cab outside, enjoying the silent night. However, there is a question you need to ask him before he leaves.

"How did you do it, Liam ? How did you manage to get through all of it without losing your head ?"

Liam laughs knowingly at your question before turning his head towards you with a gentle reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. You get used to it eventually."

You smile back and wait until Liam is in the cab before thinking about what he told you. Could you really get used to it ? To the madness and the constant fear of the unknown ? You smile to yourself and let out a soft chuckle. Liam is right. You've gotten used to your slashers, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

(Finally ! I'm finished with the main story ! It was one amazing adventure, wouldn't you agree ?)

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #slashers au #slashers #freddy krueger x reader #five hargreeves x reader

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sokkas-first-fangirl · 3 years

Text

I’m back on my “Yakko doesn’t lose his memories” bullshit ✌

(Indulge me, okay)

***

It was a few days after the invasion when Yakko finally crept back home. The guards and soldiers were finally off the palace grounds, though some people went looting.

The grounds were a mess. There was mud everywhere, abandoned carts; blackened grass and tramples flowers. Broken glass, melting snow and...He looked away from the blood with a shudder. He jumped over the broken glass, glancing warily at the windows; some were shattered, some weren’t. He could see bullet holes in the walls and doors. The front doors were boarded up, but Yakko found a side door that hadn’t been blocked yet.

Everything was awful. It was totally silent, as silent as the grave (Ouch, Yakko thought. Bad comparison) but it was still home.

Besides, where else could he go?

The palace was broken. His family was broken. His whole country was broken, thanks to Salazar. His little siblings and Scratchy were in Burbank and Yakko didn’t know how to get there. They wouldn’t be able to come back for him.

He looked around the deserted hallways, biting his lip and clutching his bag of clothes close to his chest. Well...He could always try and sell some stuff, couldn’t he? That was what other people were doing. He just needed something small, enough for a train ticket. Wait for the borders to open back up and then head to Burbank. He knew Scratchy’s address, and Nurse’s. He could get there no problem!

Yakko smiled as he walked then, relief coursing through him. He’d be fine. He had a plan.

He sang their lullaby quietly to himself as he approached the ballroom. Unlike other parts of the palace, the ballroom looked weirdly normal. Still pristine. He couldn’t quite say if that made it better or worse. He kept waiting for his parents to appear on their thrones.

He’d just reached Angelina’s throne when someone shouted, “What are you doing in here?”

Yakko yelped, dropping his bag. He spun around, fists raised, fangs on show, trying to make himself look big.

And he froze.

The voice belonged to a mouse. A mouse who was scurrying towards him with another mouse in tow. A mouse who took one good look at Yakko and stopped dead with a strangled gasp.

“It’s you!” Yakko and the mouse both cried, pointing at each other. Yakko clutched his pendant tightly and ran to the mice, crashing to his knees.

“Are you okay?” Yakko demanded at the same time as the taller mouse. The taller mouse with the buck teeth smiled shyly and grabbed Yakko’s hand, squeezing tightly. The smaller mouse, the very mouse who had saved Yakko, Wakko and Dot only a few days ago, gaped at Yakko in astonishment.

“I...I’m well, child,” he said. His voice still sounded strangled, all awkward and hitched. He shook his head, eyes wide.

“Narf! I’m happy you’re okay, Prince Yakko!” the taller mouse said. He beamed at Yakko and added, “I’m Pinky.”

“I’m Yakko,” Yakko said.

The smaller mouse bowed. “The Brain, at your service, Your Highness.” He straightened up and looked Yakko over in bewilderment. “But what are you doing here? What happened?”

Yakko winced, clutching his pendant so tightly its edges dug uncomfortably into his palm.

“I...I fell,” he admitted in a whisper. “I slipped and...I couldn’t get on the train, I fell onto the tracks and...” He shook his head, heart pounding. Dot’s scream echoed on and on in his head. “I landed on my head, I think. I got knocked out.”

Pinky and Brain both looked horrified. Pinky’s grip on his hand tightened.

“Well, for pity’s sake!” Brain suddenly exploded. “I hope you’ve had medical attention!”

Yakko shook his head.

“We’re going upstairs,” Brain ordered. He pointed to the doors. “And I will check your injuries myself if I must, but you will rest, is that understood?”

“Brain,” Pinky cried. “Zoit! Don’t yell at him, he’s only little!”

But Yakko laughed. He laughed so hard it hurt his chest.

“Shouldn’t- uuuuhhh, shouldn’t I give orders?” he asked.

Brain folded his arms. “Be that as it may,” he said. “You will do what I say. You can prank me later.”

“You mean thank you later?”

“Prank. I know what you’re like, Your Highness.”

And despite everything, Yakko smiled as he got to his feet. He’d expected his home to be totally empty, but it seemed like he’d just made two new special friends- the good kind of special this time.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s a deal.”

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bubblegumfanfictions · 3 years

Text

Falling in Love again.

Fandom- Bleach

Ships- Kisuke Urahara x Reader

Warnings- Some language, Implied Sexual Assault, Past sexual Assault.

Summary- Imagine a tally mark appearing on your skin every time you fall in love. When your tally mark is Red then it's onesided, Black then the love is returned. If it is scarred then your love ended traumatically.

You have a scarred tally mark and a red tally mark, the red one being for Kisuke Urahara.

Word Count- 3,928

You led in bed staring down at your wrist where a single red tally mark decorated your skin. In this world, a tally mark showed your love. People who fell in love easily were littered with marks, whereas the people who were only in love with one person would have one. If the mark is red it's unrequited, if it was Black then the person you love returns your feelings.

Your singular red mark was for Kisuke Urahara, a friend of your friends. You went to his shop with your friends whenever they needed something from him seeing as that seemed to be your only excuse to see him. You didn't want to come across as weird for visiting on your own. Especially when you have no real powers like the others.

Annoyingly you had one other mark on your arm, a scarred tally mark, one from your ex. In this world a scarred tally would mean that your love for them ended very abruptly and traumatically. No one knew about that tally, you were very good at keeping it hidden, whether it was with a well placed bracelet or a long sleeved shirt.

Rolling onto your side you let out a huff. It hurts, it shouldn't but it does. Knowing that the one man you love doesn't feel the same way. You barely get to see him since your friends don't visit that often. But you'll take whatever time you can with him even if you don't get to talk.

Well, only time will tell.

---

"Y/N!!!" A fist slammed against the door multiple times as Ichigo's voice yelled your name. "C'mon man! We've gotta get to Hat 'n' Clogs!" Sleepily, you raised your head taking a glance out of your open window.

"Wh-what for?" The early morning rasp in your voice made it a note or so deeper than it actually was. You stretched out and hopped out of bed throwing on the nearest clothing you had, which happened to be a (f/c) long knit sweater, a pair of black leggings and some brown boots.

"Y/N! We haven't got all day, move your ass!" You shook your head and ran out of the house not brushing your hair, figuring you could comb it down with your fingers on the way there.

By the time you got there you realised there was no point fixing your hair until you got inside in the first place. It was so windy outside that your hair just kept blowing around which made it worse than before. "Hey, come in guys." You froze for a moment as heat rushed to your face, you brushed a small amount of hair over your face, hoping he didn't notice it.

Quickly yet quietly you walked into the shop following behind Ichigo whilst you brushed down your hair. Kisuke stopped you briefly "You missed a spot." and with nimble hands, he began to flatten down your hair. "There, done." He gave you his signature grin, placing a hand onto the small of your back leading you to the rest.

Once Kisuke leads you to your friends he then gets down to business. “So, I am assuming you guys are here for the training grounds, right?” The ginger he questioned nods his head. You didn’t have any special abilities at all, but your friends knew you were great moral support and a generally good person so they let you in on their secret.

Most of the time you find days like this one quite boring, sure you’d get to see Kisuke but you usually have nothing to do. On some days you would help Tessai, Jinta and Ururu with their work or well, in Jinta and Ururu’s case, you would do their work for them.

When your friends finish training and all head home Kisuke typically gives you something for your time. At first he would give you the equivalent of minimum wage for the amount of work you do but recently (due to finding out your love for (favourite collectable)) he would end up getting you those instead.

The boys and Orihime go down into the training room, leaving you upstairs in the shop with Kisuke. “So, um… Is there anything you need me to do today?” you asked in your typically meek voice. Being with Kisuke made you so nervous you could barely talk, so being able to say that was a blessing.

Kisuke tilted his hat back with his thumb as he thought about things you could do around the shop. “Not that I can think of, for once Jinta and Ururu did the work I assigned for them.” You fake gasped at his comment. They finished their work… Early?

“No way, Jinta and Ururu finished their work? Damn that never happens.” Kisuke laughed at your comment and squeezed your shoulder. Yeah, when you did hang out with Kisuke alone you did have a lot of fun, but you still don’t like to intrude if you don’t have a reason to.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well what am I meant to do then?!” You dramatically waved your arms in the air in exasperation. When you did so Kisuke caught sight of the two tally marks and promptly grabbed your wrist.

“A Scar and a Red tally mark. I’m sure those are both fun stories.” He lightly massaged the scarred tally on your wrist making you flinch. He looked up at you in concern, dropping your arm. “Sorry.”

“It is fine, I’m just- No one has ever seen that before, as you can imagine I’m not particularly keen on anyone seeing that one..” You explain, rubbing the scar to try and ease some of the emotional turmoil.

“Does anyone know? Ichigo? Orihime? Chad?” He listed off some of your friends and to each one you shook your head. No one knew this, and you were planning on keeping it a secret from everyone, not even Kisuke was meant to know. “Would you mind telling me?” You shook your head once more. You didn’t even want to remember the scar, much less the asshole who caused it.

Kisuke rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your pain with a small smile on his face. "It's fine, you don't have to talk about it. But if you ever need to, I'll be happy to listen." Tears start to pool in your eyes, you've never spoken about it to anyone outside of your family, maybe it would be good. But not now.

You gave Kisuke a tight hug, the tears in your eyes spilling out. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." You kept repeating over and over into his chest. Kisuke was shocked at first but wrapped his arms around you, rubbing his fingertips up and down your spine to calm you down, his cheek pressed into your hair.

Both of you stayed that way for a while until you finally calmed down, letting go of the tall, green clad man. "I'm sorry about that- I should probably head home." You scrubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your jumper with an appreciative smile on your face.

"Hey, it is fine." Kisuke messed up your hair with one of his hands. "It is nothing to worry about, just know that I am here if you need to talk. Just because you don't have powers doesn't mean you can't come here whenever you want to." He cups your face in his hands with a grin "YOU are an absolute pleasure to have here, okay?" You nodded your head, still too upset to really speak properly. "Good."

Kisuke walks you to the door once you calmed down enough and saw you out. "Hope to see you here soon, Y/N." You nodded your head.

"That will probably be when they come here again." You smiled at him, waving your hand as you walked home.

------- Timeskip to a week later. -------

You walk home from the shops as you keep looking down at the shopping list, making sure that you have everything. Your mother had asked you to go down because she forgot some ingredients she needed. It was getting a little dark and it was kind of scary being by yourself, but at the same time you did enjoy the peace and quiet.

"Ohhh, Look who it is." Your face paled, you knew that voice anywhere, he was the reason for the scar. "Why do you look so scared, don't you remember the fun we had together?" You bit your lower lip harshly, weighing out your options. Urahara's shop wasn't that far away so you could make a break for it, but you knew he was a fast runner.

With a groan you made your choice and dashed to the shop. "Oi! Get back here you stupid cunt!" Of course, you could hear the sound of heavy footfalls hitting the asphalt behind you, this was inevitable. But if you got close enough to the shop you knew that you'd be able to at least get someone's attention, whether it was Jinta, Ururu, Kisuke or Tessai.

"Oh, Y/n I knew you enjoyed our time together, you remembered how much I enjoyed the struggle. Although you were so much more compliant when you slept." You stopped dead in your tracks, you hated him, you hated thinking about him... About the things he has done and the fact that you loved him once. He laughed at your stop, you were almost right outside of the shop by this point, but that didn't matter.

"Do you finally agree with me Y/n? Do you finally see that it is all you're good for?" You were trembling by this point, not from fear, oh no; from pure hatred. You dropped the bag you were holding in your dominant hand and with a quick turn you put all of your anger into your movements and punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor.

Your body, however, was still shaking. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted to hurt him bad. How was it fair that he got out of the relationship with nothing yet you with a heart full of anxiety and fear. You readied yourself to hit him again with the fist that already had blood on it since you broke his nose when you heard a voice call out to you.

"Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay?" Your head turned towards the store, and stood in the doorway was none other than Kisuke Urahara. You didn't even look down at him. You sprinted as fast as you could to Kisuke, pushing him inside of the building before sliding the door shut.

You led your back against the door as you slid down it, landing yourself on the floor. Your eyes were wide, frightened- Kisuke has never seen you with that expression, you looked terrified. Knowing something was up, he locked the store up and left the room, coming back with a warm cup of tea, sitting next to you.

He handed you the cup and spoke with a quiet voice, trying not to scare you. "What was all that about? Are you okay?" You shook your head, keeping your face directed towards the cup in your hands, which were still trembling. "Did you want to talk about it once you're calmed down?" You nodded your head, Kisuke was silent for a few seconds, as if contemplating whether or not he should say anything. "Did you want a hug?" You nodded again.

Kisuke wasted no time wrapping his left arm around you to pull you into his side, he used his thumb to rub little circles into your side as his head rested on top of yours. "It'll be okay, Y/n. You'll be okay, just breathe. Whatever happened won't happen anymore, you're safe here." He kept whispering to you.

Eventually, you finished the drink he made you and hugged him back. His face was now completely in your hair as he kissed the top of your head. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Y-yeah, thank you..." You stuttered out, tired from what had just occurred.

"Good, if you want I can run you a bath and get you some fresh clothes. You can stay the night if you don't feel safe to head back, okay?" You nodded your head, but then you remembered your mother. As if reading your thoughts, Kisuke spoke up again. "I'll phone your mum while you're in the bath and fill her in, how does that sound?"

"That sounds good, thank you Kisuke." He rubbed your head and stood up, offering you his hand.

After your bath you had calmed down considerably, no longer shaking and being able to speak. Kisuke left some of his clothes folded up in the bathroom for you to change into (which you did). You sat on Kisuke's bed cross legged, trying to comprehend what happened today when there was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Kisuke walks into the room with your phone in his hand. "So I spoke to your mother, she said you could stay here for the night and that I should walk you home at some point tomorrow, or whenever depending on how long you want to stay." He sits next to you and continues. "She also told me who that guy was. Nothing about what happened, she just said that he is the scum of the earth."

You laughed "Yeah, that sounds about right. Due to what happened I don't ever call him my ex. Whenever anyone mentions him we just call him twat." Of course, Kisuke was very confused as to what happened but he already asked a few times so he didn't want to push it, but the look on his face told you everything. "I'll tell you what happened."

"You don't have to." He protested quickly, not knowing if it would upset you to talk about it.

"It is fine, I just have one condition. This is a very touchy subject for me so I was wondering if you could um--- how do I put this?" Kisuke chuckled, knowing what you meant, sitting back with you on his bed, pulling you into his side, much like when you were against the door.

"Take your time."

You took a deep breath and began. "He was my first boyfriend, if I can call him that. He was controlling, manipulative and abusive in more ways than one. He didn't let me talk about any guys, if I played a game wrong he would stop me from playing it. If he was horny I'd have to do something about it and so on... Well anyway, it got to the point where I-- I didn't want to do anything like that. He said he was fine with it... But-" Your breathing got heavier the further into explaining, tears began to form and fall from your eyes. You hated remembering this, but you were hoping that maybe this would be good in the long run.

"Hey, look at me." You hear Kisuke say gently as he turns your face to him. "I know it may not mean or do much but you're safe here, nothing is going to happen to you, I'll look after you, okay? There is no need to worry while you're here, but I do understand why you are." He rubs your head affectionately, hugging you tighter. "Like I said, take your time."

You relished in that hug and composed yourself before continuing. "He said he was fine with it, but one night I woke up and his hand was somewhere it shouldn't have been and his other hand was--- y-yeah. He was with me for a while after that since I was too scared to break up with him. Then I met someone I really liked who was so nice to me, and I realised that I didn't want to be stuck with someone like him."

Kisuke made a noise of understanding. "So that is the red mark then, it is hard to believe that someone would be so thankful for a red mark."

"Yeah, I know. But I really am, and I'm thankful for the help from him too." You smiled, running your finger delicately along the red tally mark.

"Doesn't the red tally mark hurt though? That the person who saved you from that twat doesn't feel the same?" He asked, and yeah it was painful.

"Yeah, it is really painful. But I always think to myself I would rather have this red tally mark and be friends with him than have none at all and still be with twat. Anything is better than that even if it is not reciprocated love." You shrugged your shoulders trying to come across as nonchalant when all you wanted to do was tell Kisuke that the mark was him, but you decided against it. You let out a yawn that caught Kisuke's attention.

"I should probably let you sleep then." He gets up from his spot and you huddle under the covers. Kisuke grins at the sight, fixing the blankets over you and kissing your forehead. "Today has been a rough day so if you need anything just shout, okay? Even if you think it is dumb." Despite everything that happened you slept well that night.

----Time skip 3 days----

"Y/n! Let's go! Hat n Clogs is waiting!" Ichigo yelled up to your window, pulling you from your sleep. You rush to get dressed, throwing a jumper on with leggings like before and you ran from the house.

You opened the door and outside waiting for you was Ichigo and the gang. "Well? Come on!" With that you all went back to Kisuke's shop. Over the 3 days you and Kisuke got closer, he'd constantly phone your mother to check up on you. (since he phoned your mum before and not you so he knew her number) It bugged her so much that she gave you Kisuke's number so she wouldn't be bothered anymore, which was sweet.

Everyone walked into the shop and greeted Kisuke. "Ah, Y/n!" He wrapped his arm around your shoulder playfully, a smile playing across his lips. "Everything okay?" You could see his eyes from the angle so you knew what he meant and you smiled back at him.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He let go of you and began talking to the others about Gigai upgrades. As you tidied around the shop you heard the bell chime indicating someone had come in, you looked up and that someone was twat. Your eyes went wide as you dropped the broom you were holding, alerting the others.

Kisuke's carefree smile and attitude completely dropped when he saw who was there. He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you towards your friends, they noticed something was up there and they stood in front of you. "Get out." He shakes his head, walking around the store as he was being stared at by everyone. "I said get out."

Twat laughed, "I'm a customer here, you can't tell me to get out, I want to buy something." Kisuke got closer to Twat, who was starting to clearly become intimidated by your friends.

"I have the right to refuse people. Customers are typically human, and sadly you don't qualify for one of those, so get the fuck out of my shop." With each sentence Kisuke got closer to him until eventually he got so intimidated and fled. Kisuke locked the shop door and ran over to you, avoiding the strange looks from the others.

"Are you okay?" You appear to be in a state of shock, you feel like you can barely move or speak, you just stood there, trembling. Kisuke continues to ignore the others as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "I am going to tell them if that is alright, just make any sound for a yes, okay?" He heard a small sound come from you so he begins to explain to your friends what happened.

-------

By the end of the explanation you came back to reality, since you weren't paying attention to anything other than Kisuke's arms around you, you were able to pull through pretty quick. Your friends all looked really mad at him for everything he did and thanked Kisuke profusely for helping you out through this. After a while, the others finally leave, giving you a hug and giving you a word of advice, they even offered to teach you how to fight which you decided to take up.

You sat with Kisuke in his room as you usually do after something like that happens. You were talking about nothing in particular when Kisuke stopped you. "Um- Y/n, that person- they return your feelings." You laughed

"No they don't, the proof is in the pu---" You lift your sleeve to show the proof when you noticed that he was right. The telly mark was Black now. You stare at the mark in utter shock. "I- What?" Your eyebrows furrowed together. "That is impossible, why would he like me?" Kisuke smiles at you, messing up your hair like he normally does.

"Probably because you're a fantastic p-" He stops dead in his tracks when he stops a completely new mark on his arm, the arm that was totally clean, in all of his years of living he has never fallen in love. You look up and wonder why he went quiet when you notice him staring at his arm, he must have realised who that tally mark is for. "That-" He gestures towards your mark. "That is for me, isn't it?"

You flush, you never thought you'd end up in a situation like this one. "Y-yeah it is." You bite your lip in worry, you knew he liked you as well, I mean you could literally see it, but that doesn't mean that he would want to be with you. Kisuke smiled softly at you as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"I always thought you were pretty, and I knew that I would absolutely fall for you, I could feel it. So I'm honestly glad it is returned. But um- We don't have to be in a relationship yet if you don't think you're ready for one." Kisuke was the sweetest and that is why, without a doubt in your mind, you knew that you were ready.

"I am ready, I've wanted to be with you for a long time now, I love you Kisuke." You blushed heavily. You think those words often enough but you didn't think you'd ever say them out loud to him.

"Since we have that sorted- can I kiss you?" Kisuke asked, his thumb running across your jaw, your skin tingling from his touch.

"Yeah, you can." His thumb moved, holding on lightly to your chin to pull you close. You were a hair's width away from kissing but he stayed there for a few moments with a look in his eyes that said 'You can still back off if you want to' but you didn't. He took your stillness as an invitation to continue and planted a soft kiss to your lips, his hands moved to cup your cheeks while your own remove his hat so they could rest in his hair. After a few moments of his soft kiss Kisuke pulled back, only to kiss you one more time.

"I love you too, Y/n. I'll make sure nothing bad will ever happen to you again."

313 notes · View notes

redorich · 4 years

Note

Soooo.... is there more of that Hermit!Tommy battle?

here’s the last part :)

Xisuma stalks through the rubble of the Dream SMP, armored boots crunching on gravel and broken glass. Fundy, as far as he knows, is still face-down in a river somewhere. As rain pours down his visor, seeps into the cracks, and sparks his electrocuted skin, Xisuma wonders what’s drawn him to water so much today; here he stands, watching the water below him churn underneath the docks and eat away at the shore. Xisuma himself stands high above it all, atop a small, jagged mountain.

He hears the tell-tale shing of a riptide trident. Thank every star in the void-- if Xisuma has to deal with a channelling trident right now, after his last fight, he thinks he may just sit down and quit. Even though he can already tell who’s behind him from their warped presence alone, Xisuma turns wearily to face his next opponent.

Dream stands before him, breathing oddly in a way that indicates at least one cracked rib. His mask is shattered, and more of his face is bloody than clean. From the looks of things, Techno must have scratched him on the thin skin above his eyebrows. Xisuma knows intimately how that wound bleeds profusely, how it gets into one’s eyes and makes it impossible to see. Dream’s obviously coming down from a potion high, and his netherite chestplate is in shambles.

"So much for 'Technoblade never dies', huh?" Dream says confidently. Xisuma can see right through him; despite Dream's easy smirk, he's barely able to stand.

Xisuma's long past the point of asking nicely for his opponent to surrender. He says nothing, and a purple glow oozes up from out of the ground; the stone beneath the men's feet is overlaid with a runic circle: a tell-tale sign of admin magic.

Dream's not as experienced in admin magic, but he's an excellent fighter. Instead of meeting Xisuma's magic with his own, Dream bursts forward in a bout of speed that causes his fractured ribs to shriek in protest, and knees Xisuma solidly in the solar plexus. The hermit wheezes and his runic circle falters, but he does not respond. While he pours all his being into this work of admin magic, Dream is free to ravage his physical form, already battered as it is by Fundy. Dream’s axe is long gone, as is his sword, but his fists are more than enough.

“So you’re just going to give up?!” Dream demands. “You won’t even bother to fight me head-on, you’ve got to waste all your energy on some magic attack that won’t even work? I’ll kill you before you can set it off. You’ll have died for nothing. All your people will have died for nothing.”

Again, Xisuma says nothing. Rage bubbles up from deep inside him. He allows Dream, the vile admin, to rain strike after strike upon him while Xisuma musters the power necessary for his magic attack. Fuck Dream. If Xisuma focuses enough, he can convince himself that the rain hurts worse than any pain Dream can inflict. Even as Dream claws at Xisuma’s throat, digs his fingers into already-bleeding wounds, even as Xisuma’s vision grows steadily darker, the electricity sparking through his veins keeps him wide awake. He will win this fight-- there is no “or die trying”. He will win. He will survive. He will persevere. He will...

Xisuma stumbles. The magic circle dims for a moment. How long can he keep this up?

“Just die already!” Dream growls out. “There’s nothing you can do--!”

From high in the sky, obscured by inclement weather, a red blur divebombs rapidly and throws all its weight into kicking Dream in the head. He falls like a stone, groaning. “What the fuck..?”

Grian stands proudly, elytra fluttering in the harsh wind. Behind him, Tommy launches up into the air with a riptide trident and lands at Grian’s side.

Dream’s mind is overheating. It’s firing on all cylinders and then some, trying to process and calculate everything. Tommy’s escaped from prison. He’s got a trident, but no armor-- Grian must not have had a spare set, and as it is Grian’s vulnerable because he’s wearing an elytra instead of a chestplate. Damn it, why didn’t he keep track of the sky? How many other enemies are hidden within the dark storm clouds? Can he kill Xisuma before Grian attacks? Does Grian have a weapon? He must have been the one to give Tommy the trident, but Tommy’s been away from where he belongs-- under Dream’s heel-- and Dream can’t predict whether or not Tommy will attack him.

“Hello, Dream,” Grian says mildly, breaking Dream out of his own head. It’s an almost friendly tone, but it still sounds ominous.

Dream is instantly proven right when Grian holds out his hand for Tommy to return the borrowed trident. The moment the weapon touches his fingers, he yanks Tommy in front of him, pins him in place from behind, and holds the deadly gleaming trident prongs to the teen’s neck.

“Grian, what--?!” Tommy yelps, then whimpers when Grian roughly jostles the trident.

“No,” Dream breathes. His heart drops into his stomach. “Don’t you dare.”

Grian smiles. “You were right, Dream-- I never cared about Tommy. None of us did. We hermits always want what we can’t have. Diamonds are too easy for us. Netherite means nothing. We saw Tommy, and we knew he was running from the man who owned him. Now we own him. And I’m the one who gets the privilege of killing him, so you can never have him!”

Dream’s face, bare as it is, is painted clear to see with fear. Horrified, he wheezes through his pain with wide eyes. He’s still on the ground.

“Do you have anything to say, Tommy?” Grian asks sweetly. “Any last words for Dream?”

Through teary eyes, Tommy looks down at Dream. He bites his lip, fists his hands in the spare fabric of his pants. “Dream...” he says hesitantly, then grins widely. “Get fucked, green boy!”

The purple runes at their feet flare brightly. Dream snaps his gaze to Xisuma, who has gone completely forgotten in the whirlwind of revelations. Tommy and Grian, who Dream now understands faked the whole hostage situation, both tackle him to keep him from exiting the magic circle.

Dream wakes up when he does not remember ever losing consciousness. He's still in the exact same position was was in last he remembers, so he can't have been out for long. There’s a beat-up guy in armor, a guy in a red sweater, and... Tommy. Oh Lord, Dream thinks, what has he done?

He looks down from the mountain and sees blood and bodies everywhere. He did this. This is his fault.

“Stand down!” he yells as loud as he can. It’s not like it’ll make much of a difference; there’s not many people left alive to stand down.

Grian edges closer to Dream, who still hasn’t gotten up. Dream doubts his legs will support him.

“Hey, shh, we can fix this,” Grian says.

Dream fists his hands in his hair, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. “There’s nothing left to fix! Why aren’t you killing me? Your people are dead, too!”

Xisuma flinches, but Grian’s face hardens slightly. “You’re the admin here,” Grian says, “all you have to do is bring them back.”

“But-- but they-- canon lives--”

Tommy interrupts Dream. “Canon lives?! Who was it that came up with the idea in the first place, huh? Was it you?”

Dream’s shoulders slump and he hangs his head in defeat. “...Yes.”

Grian slaps him upside the head. It’s not hard enough to do any damage, but Dream is already so wrecked that it sends his head spinning.

“Idiot,” Grian says. “It was the dreamon, not you. Nothing’s stopping you from reviving everyone.”

“They’ll just start fighting again,” Dream says, grasping at straws.

Xisuma shrugs, though it looks painful. “Then turn PvP off.”

“...They’ll kill me. I’d deserve it.”

Tommy puts his arm around Dream’s shoulder, helping him sit up all the way. This is so fucked, that the kid-- literal kid-- Dream tortured and manipulated is showing him pity.

“It wasn’t you, who did those things,” Tommy says, as though he can read Dream’s thoughts. Perhaps he can. Dream’s face is very expressive, he knows; it’s part of why he wears the mask in the first place.

“It was, Tommy. You of all people should understand this, you should hate me the most! I remember everything I did to you,” Dream cuts himself off, takes a ragged breath, and continues. “I remember planning out what I did, feeling satisfied with it, the blood was on my hands.”

Tommy frowns sharply, though his arm still hasn’t left Dream’s shoulders. “So that’s it, then? You’re too much of a pussy to even try? If it’s really your fault, then you should be the one to fix your mess.”

Now that, that Dream can understand. He nods shakily, calling up an admin console. “When I’m done, put me in the prison. I don’t want to hurt anyone like this ever again.”

The two hermits look at each other unhappily over Dream and Tommy’s heads, but say nothing. They watch as all across the server, mutilated corpses dissipate into fine white pixels, and people begin to respawn. The hermits and Dream SMP citizens alike raise their weapons, but find that PvP does no damage any longer.

Dream is crying.

“Come with us,” Grian offers on a whim. Xisuma startles, but sees where Grian is going.

“Yeah, why don’t you come to Hermitcraft? You can be alone there.”

“Why can’t I be alone here?” Dream asks sullenly.

Tommy grins. “Think of it like a therapy vacation.” When the two hermits laugh, he laughs with them. “Worked for me, didn’t it?”

Holding out a hand for Dream with deceptive casualness, he waits with bated breath for Dream to take it. Dream hesitates, wondering if he should, if he deserves it.

Fuck it. He may not deserve it, but he wants it. To Hermitcraft he goes.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #dreamwastaken #technoblade #tommyinnit #xisuma #xisumavoid #fundy #itsfundy #hermit!tommy au #me.cpp #me.txt #that-one-engineering-bard

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bittenwritten · 3 years

Text

Idle Gossip

[Harley Quinn 2019] Scarecrow x [Villain] reader

*reader is gender neutral* [Reposted from my Wattpad account]

It all started with your invitation to the Penguin’s nephew’s Bar Mitzvah coming through the mail slot. Normally, you’d prefer to keep to yourself and not attend any social gatherings. However, on this occasion you’d had a rough week and a fancy get-together seemed to be just what the doctor ordered, and so you decided to bite the bullet and attend. Unfortunately, what you seemed to completely forget, until the day of the Bar Mitzvah, is that you'd actually have to talk to people. Great.

You decided that cancelling now would just be more hassle than it was worth, and so that is how you ended up sitting round a small table with a few of your fellow Legion of Doom members discussing the recent drama that was the JoQuinn break-up. Other than the Joker blowing up the host of Good Morning Gotham, this was the first time you were hearing about the whole drama, so it was all news to you. Well, I say ‘conversation’, it was more so just Scarecrow gossiping at the group about the whole hullabaloo while everyone else was becoming tired of the non-stop gossip coming out of Jonathan’s mouth. Well, everyone but you. You couldn’t for the life of you explain, but you just seemed to hang onto every single word that came out of his mouth as he rambled on.

You weren't even really listening to what was being said anymore, you were just so transfixed by the way he spoke, there was some kind of devilish charm to it that made you feel weak in the knees.

You’d only recently realized your feelings for the twig of a man on a collaborative heist, where you had to suddenly drag him out of Batman's sight and ended up pinning him up against the wall. Neither of you even said anything, you just stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time until Batman walked in and caught the two of you like that. It had to be the most embarrassing point in your career, but there was something about that flustered look on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

Back in the present, Twoface looked like he was about to lose his patience before the door to the atrium swung open. Two figures stood in the doorway, the more extravagant of the two had a massive tiger on a lead in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. You didn’t even recognise her for a split-second but her pale-white skin was an immediate give away to her identity, it was the Joker’s ex, Harley Quinn. Behind her stood the more intimidating figure of Poison Ivy, she seemed to be more disinterested with the whole thing. Harley took a swing from the bottle and threw it over her shoulder, only to stop dead in her tracks as she looked around in horror, you could only assume she mis-read her invite in regards to what type of party this was. Glancing over to your fellow villains, they seemed to be just as confused as you were.

“Well, this is an interesting development” Scarecrow commented, resting his head in his hand as he leaned forward. “You know...” he started “i bet there’s something going on between those two” he used his free-hand to gesture towards the two.

“Y’know what, I’m starving.” TwoFace quickly stood up “Bane, buddy, how's about you and I go check out the buffet?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Bane said in his usual upbeat tone.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scarecrow added as he began to stand out of his seat.

“Nah, nah, nah.” TowFace cut him off. “Y’know two’s company but three's a crowd-” he clearly just wanted an excuse to get away from the non-stop gossip that was giving him a head-ache.

“You two just stay put, we’ll be back in a sec” and with that he bee-lined towards the buffet table with Bane following closely behind. Scarecrow slowly sat back down and stared in confusion at the two before turning his attention to you.

“Wonder what got into them” he laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, I wonder.” you agreed and took a quick sip from your drink.

His expression turned to a more deadpan one. “Well I mean you could at least try to be a bit more subtle with it.” he scoffed.

“Sweetheart, if I was to be subtle about anything, you wouldn’t pick up on a single thing I was implying” you shot back, leaning towards him and taking another swig from your drink.

“Oh, like your obvious attraction to me.” he joked and raised an eyebrow as you spat out your drink in surprise.

“S’cuse me?!” you managed to sputter out once you recovered from your coughing fit.

“Oh give me a break.” he rolled his eyes. “I know I can be a bit oblivious at times but not to this extent.” he said as a smirk formed at the edges of his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension that had been created. He looked at you like you’d just asked him who Batman was before answering.

“I mean, you avoiding me recently, your longing stares.” he put a hand on his head in overly dramatic fashion, which admittedly got a slight laugh from you.

“I mean for fucks sake, just now you were making eyes at me throughout the conversation about the break-up.” he added. Your body stiffens and heats up as he finishes his sentence. God, were you that obvious?

At this point, your face was as red as a tomato and you were stumbling over your words as you failed to come up with a rebuttal. Luckily you were saved from this hell when Bane and TwoFace returned to the table, stopping him from continuing his accusation. You sighed in relief and looked back over to him, he still had that smug smirk on his face that always made your heart flutter.

“How's the food over there?” you asked.

“Eh, nothing worth spoiling your dinner for.” TwoFace shrugged, sitting back into his seat.

“Uh-oh, who are these trouble-makers?” Harley walked up to the table.

“Nah, I'm just kidding- I know it’s you [name], Scarecrow, TwoFace, other side of TwoFace, Bane-!” you all laughed at her imitation. “I'm gonna’ blow up this Bar Mitzvah” Bane grumbled.

“Quinn, Great ta’ see ya’! Where've ya’ been hiding?” TwoFace asked.

“On your left side where you can’t see shit!”

You all burst into laughter again but this time you couldn’t help but steal another look at Scarecrow. You loved the way he looked when he laughed, from the way his eyes lit up to his dorky smile, you just couldn't get enough of it but you quickly looked away before he could catch your staring.

“So guess who came up with a plan to kill Batman, uh, ya girl-” but before she could continue a looming shape appeared behind her.

“Look who’s trying to run before she can walk”. Well, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, the Joker was here to completely derail it. Great.

The others laughed and you plastered on a fake smile.

“Mazel Tov!” Bane greeted him.

“Jesus”

“Glad you're here, J-man. Pull up a chair, doesn’t bother me-” Harley pulled out the menu.

“So who’s going beef and who’s going chicken?”

“You are going somewhere else-” Joker demanded.

“-because this is the Legion of Doom table! Why don’t you find the crazy bitch table?”

“Spoiler: it’s not a real table” Bane chipped in.

“That was implied-”

“Oh” Bane frowned.

“Who wants to ditch this jester and tear up Gotham with me?!” Harley yelled, which was only met with manic laughter from the Joker.

“Laugh, laugh with me” Joker ordered. You did your best to sound genuine as you forced a laugh, like the others, but you weren't too sure how convincing you sounded.

“Uhh, you know what, who needs ya’ this table is too far away from the dancefloor anyway!” Harley stomped off.

Joker pulled up a seat and sat down.

“Sorry about that folks, women am i right?” None of you really felt comfortable with that last comment.

“Joker, nice to see ya’, didn’t think you’d make it” TwoFace said, greeting him.

“Well, of course, how could i miss such a big event” he grinned, to you it seemed a bit disingenuous but you let it slide.

“Now, what did I miss?”

“Scarecrow was just telling us how Harley dumped ya’.” TwoFace explained.

“Oh really?”

The smug grin on the Joker’s face dropped as he shot a glare at Scarecrow, who was currently sweating bullets.

“Oh I'm sure you're definitely in a position to talk, Crane, seeing as your single ass can’t even get a date, let alone dump one. And for the record, I dumped her.” you could feel the condescending nature of his tone as he spoke. Jonathan looked down at his drink as Joker continued to talk down to him.

You desperately wanted to say something but were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud voice screaming “assholes-”, you all quickly turned to see where the voice came from, only to find it was Harley bitching about you all to Ivy. Joker shot her a smug grin before turning back to the group. He opened his mouth to speak again only to be cut off.

“But they don’t know shit-” Harley screamed again, shaking their table as she slammed her fists onto it. Luckily, this seemed to distract Joker from his rant long enough for him to forget.

“Now, where was I?”

Thinking quickly you came up with an answer.

“You were talking about dumping Harley.”

“Ah, yes. Can you believe that, the bitch even blew up my hideout out of spite-” he started going on and on about how he was totally the one who ended it. You looked over to Scarecrow as he sighed a breath of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’. You smiled and nodded at him before facing back to the pasty-white madman in front of you.

By the time Joker had finished his rant, the food had arrived. It was pretty good, but you and Scarecrow were both too busy stealing looks at each other while the other wasn’t looking to enjoy it.

“Uuh, my chicken’s rubbery.” Joker grumbled.

“Ooh, your beef looks good” he said as he slid Bane’s plate over to himself.

“Uh, fine” Bane sighed as he reached for the plate of chicken, wanting at least something to eat.

“Ah-“ Joker swatted his hand away.

“I might finish that.”

“Well, then, what are we doing?-” Bane protested, but was cut off by a voice over the speakers.

“Hey, everybody, let’s give it up for Joshua’s Bar Mitzvah. Huh?” Penguin stood on stage next to his nephew, Joshua.

“It was very special, for me it was when I realized it was my dream to become a crime lord” he wiped a tear from his eye before continuing.

“So today, I force that dream onto you.” The crowd cheered as he placed a top-hat, that was identical to his, onto Joshua’s head.

You look out of the corner of your eye and catch Scarecrow staring directly at you. Though he was wearing his mask, you could tell he was blushing by the way his eyes darted away from you as he straightened himself the moment your eyes met, only daring to look back at you to see if you were still staring back at him. You flashed him a cheeky grin as you playfully winked at him, you could swear that you saw his heart completely stop beating inside his chest as you did.

“Okay, Joshua, get ready for your first caper! Good luck fighting off the guards, also known as Gotham Chuckle Hut’s finest improvisers, and stealing that cash-ola, otherwise known as ‘Joshua Bucks’!” The curtains began to open.

“Go Joshua- Oh my God-”

The curtains opened fully to reveal what seemed to be a massacre. The improv troupe lay in pools of their own blood, you could even see the bone fully stick out of one man’s leg for crying out loud! The culprit stood in the doorway of the vault, after somehow getting it open, and was holding some of the ‘Joshua Bucks’. Judging by your table’s reaction, you could tell who it was. Your suspicions were confirmed when the perp spoke up.

“Hey, Joshy, Mazel Tov!” Yeah, it was Harley. You could get a better view of her as she walked closer and picked up one of the men so it looked like he was standing.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd as she dropped him again, further exposing his bones. In contrast, Joker started laughing maniacally and nugded Bane.

“This is fantastic! You’re probably not laughing because this is sort of how you screw up.”

“You ruined the Bar Mitzvah!” Penguin stated as he walked forward as the crowd booed.

“-and crippled an improv troupe!”

“Meh- oh well”

Bane, TwoFace and Bane quickly stood up, but you and Scarecrow were only now snapping fully back into reality.

“If you two could quit your eye-fucking session and hurry up, it would be greatly appreciated-” Joker snapped at you both as he and the others made their way to the vault room, before you could say anything to defend yourselves. You both looked at each other for a split-second but you quickly pushed down your feelings of embarrassment and speeded after them with Jonathan hot on your heels.

“-and that's our show, folks!” Harley announced and took a bow before darting towards the exit.

“I've got this.” Penguin said, cocking his umbrella gun and taking aim.

There was a loud ‘thud’ as Harley fell to the floor as the tranquilizer dart took effect. You all gathered round to see what was happening.

“Say ‘goodnight, Puddin’.” Joker spoke with a smug grin on his face.

“You think… this is gonna’... stop...me?” her words became more slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness. Joker only laughed at ths threat.

“Hah- She even sounds like you!” he laughed as he turned to Bane.

“Oh- I don't think… Do I sound like… You never hear your own voice I guess.” Bane sputtered out, as two of Penguin’s henchmen picked up Harley’s limp body. You all walked out of the vault room and joined the crowd as the music started playing again.

“I’m assuming this is all you’ll be gossiping about for the next year.” you spoke in a hushed tone as you nudged Scarecrow’s arm. He simply rolled his eyes at you, but did nothing to cover up the dorky grin on his face as he did so.

“Perhaps.” he said, pausing before he continued.

“When I do, would you like me to leave in the part where I repeatedly caught you staring affectionately at me or no?”

“Oh really, ‘cause I could've sworn that I caught you only a couple of minutes ago doing the exact same thing.” you scoffed, leaning towards him.

You see a hint of momentary panic in his eyes as he tries to conjure up an excuse and push down the feeling of… warmth?- he got in his stomach as he remembered the part where you winked at him, he couldn’t explain it but it felt familiar. Then it hit him like a brick, he knew exactly where he’d felt this before. He’d felt the same weird, warm, fuzzy, confusing feeling when you had him pinned against that old factory wall and were staring into his eyes. He’d rather die than admit it, but you looming above him, the way your chest rose and fell as you panted, the fact that your mouths were so close that if he so much as tilted his head upward your lips would be touching, might have just awoken something in him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and saw you still waiting for his answer.

“Guilty as charged.” he shrugged and laughed nervously.

Before you could continue, you both noticed four men carrying Harley, who was tied to a chair and just regaining consciousness now.

“Cut the song- No Horah for Harley” Penguin ordered as the men placed the chair down a couple of feet away from him.

“Hey, it's gonna’ take more than a souped-up parasol to keep me from kicking your ass you fat, flightless bird.” Harley snapped.

“The mouth on her!” Penguin turned to Joshua.

“What better way to become a man than by-”

“-Ohh! Than by touching your umbrella? Whoo!” Joshua snatched the umbrella from his hands.

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” he stated as he pointed it towards Harley

“Any last words before I kill your dumb, blonde, stupid, smelly-”

“-That’s too many adjectives,” Scarecrow whispered. You nodded in agreement.

“-Idiot ass!” Joshua finished.

“Hey, Joshua, make sure you aim it directly at my head ‘cause you don’t want to miss in front of your friends and family-”

“I won’t miss” Joshua stated as his hand began to shake.

“I don’t know.. That trembly finger’s telling a different story-” she taunted.

“I-it’s not trembly, it’s just- I’ve never shot an umbrella before-”

“I bet there’s a lot of things you’ve never done, like: drunk a beer-”

“-I drunk a beer, like all the time. I always drunk beers” his voice became as shaky as his hand as he looked around the room.

“I bet you still believe in Santy Clause.”

“I-i don’t! I’m Jewish and tonight I’m a man!”

“Oh, that’s right, i forgot that I’m talkin’ to a newly grown man- I mean you’ve already finger-banged somebody.” There was a loud gasp from the audience. Well, this got uncomfortable real quick.

“Wait, what?!”

“I mean you have, haven’t you, you didn’t lie about such an important milestone, right?”

“Y-yeah it happened!”

“Are you sure?” Joshua’s body was fully trembling at this point as he looked over to his uncle, who glared back at him, waiting for him to take the shot.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know… it was dark” he stammered .

“It was at camp, at night… it was me and her and it was dark. I definitely did something”

“Oh, Joshy, do you really think you're ready to kill someone if you’ve never even finger-blasted a girl?”

“You’re right- I’m not ready” he started to sob as he ran into his mother's arms.

“I told you we should’ve gotten him the dollhouse like he asked, Oswald-” she hissed

“It’s not a dollhouse! It’s an army base with sound effects of real screams, and it’s the only thing I wanted!” his voice broke half way through his sentence.

“Your dead, Quinn” Penguin spat as he aimed his umbrella at her, but then the sound of glass breaking filled the room and a man fell face-first from the ceiling, followed by Poison Ivy lowering herself down from the newly made hole with a vine. Harley greeted her before doing a front flip onto her back which broke the chair, and something else , you assumed by the way she reacted.

“Uuh, i thought that was gonna be way cooler-” she hissed as the Joker walked up to her.

“Harley, you're not a solo-act, you're a sidekick, an afterthought. No one is ever going to take you seriously. Admit you’re nothing without me and you walk away alive. Or you can die!”

“Welp, easy choice.” the weird green man got up from the floor.

“uh , lovely Bar Mitzvah. Mazel, mazel.” he began to walk away.

“Are you leaving?” Ivy asked him.

“Uh, no-”

“I ain’t admitting shit!” Harley hissed as she picked herself up. Joker only sighed.

“Boys?” he called on the four of you, you all grinned and raced to grab your weapons from the table.

“I’ve got TwoFace.” Harley stated.

“I’ve got [name] and Scarecrow.” Ivy confirmed.

“I have-oh wow- oh God- wow.” Kite-Man stared up to see Bane towering over him, who got even bigger when he started pumping venom into himself.

“You- you’re looming! Um, alright, I’ll take, um… if you don’t mind if you could scootch just a little.” he asked, looking past Bane.

“Boom, onsite coordinator. Looking kind of brittle there, won’t see it-” Bane swatted him to the other side of the room before he could finish.

TwoFace opened fire on the two, but Ivy used her vines as a shield for herself and Harley. Within seconds, Harley was flung over the top of the shield and landed behind you and Scarecrow. You both turn around just in time to dodge the first few swings of her bat but as Scarecrow stepped back Harley kicked his gun right out of his hand and yelled for Ivy to pass her TwoFace’s gun. You spun round to see if Jonathan was alright, only to be met with a bat to the back of the head as Harley snuck up behind you, which caused you to fall forwards. You braced yourself for the feeling of your head hitting the hard tiles but were caught on your way down. You looked up to see Scarecrow grabbing you by the arm, you pushed against him and were able to get back on your feet and tossed him his gun. You glanced behind him to see Harley aiming TwoFace’s gun at his back but fired before you could get out a warning. As the bullets punctured the canisters on his back, the force of the fear toxin rushing out sent him flying. You covered your mouth and ran away to avoid the fear toxin that was already causing people to hallucinate, grabbing your gun as you did. Thankfully, Scarecrow landed a couple of feet from where you were and you rushed over to him. You offered him your hand and quickly pulled him up.

Behind you, Harley continued firing from the stolen gun before Penguin was able to shoot it, causing it to explode in Harley’s hand. As she stepped back in shock, she bumped into TwoFace who pulled out two dual handguns. She began to back away to Ivy as you, Scarecrow and Penguin walked up to join TwoFace, weapons drawn.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ivy yelled. Harley looked behind you all only to see Joker filming the whole thing.

“No, let’s fight! Maybe Kite-Man can help!” They glanced over to where Kite-Man was and witnessed as Bane repeatedly punched him in the head while he had him in a choke-hold.

“Bane, quit dicking around with Kite-Man and get those two.” Joker snapped.

“But he was attacking me-”

“With what, a kite? Just do as I tell you, you dumb, freakish monster!”

“Bane, why are you letting him talk to you like that?” Harley asked.

“In fact, why do any of you let him talk to you like that?” she began to raise her voice as she looked at the four of you. You all lowered your weapons and looked over to where Joker stood.

“He doesn't even have powers-” you felt your body stiffen as you shifted your gaze down to the floor.

“His only power is bullying you into doing what he wants. I should know, he did it to me for years.”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s nothing.” Joker protested.

“She makes a good point, I don’t like how you called me a monster” Bane interrupted him.

“Yeah that was pretty harsh” Scarecrow chipped in and looked to you as you nodded in agreement.

“Oh my God, it’s just an expression-” Joker tried to explain it away before Bane interrupted him.

“Also, let’s talk about dinner-” Bane crossed his arms. “I selected the beef well in advance and you stole it from me, you said you didn’t even want to come to this ‘stupid thing’.”

The crowd gasped.

“My thoughts exactly, this is a monumental night for young Joshua.”

“I’m the Joker, I was joking, okay? Oh my God, I’ll kill her myself.” he said, pulling out his gun and pointing it to Harley’s head, only for Ivy to stand in his way.

“Ivy, if you could just, y’know, just move so I, I can just kill your friend.”

“Absolutely- over my dead body.”

“Uhh- female friendships!” he groaned as he got ready to shoot, but Ivy’s vines suddenly sprouted up behind him and surrounded the three.

The sudden action caused you to step back and instinctively grab onto Scarecrow’s shoulder, which caused him to freeze momentarily before melting into your touch.

Joker aimed his gun at Ivy’s head but she didn’t move a muscle as her vines closed in on him. High-pitch laughter came from his pocket as his phone rang. He began yelling into the phone about some sort of building issue with his base and ran off, but you weren't really paying attention. You looked down at where your hand was, only to notice a large red stain on his upper-arm, it took you mere seconds to realize that it was blood, his blood even. You assumed he must have knocked into something sharp when he was sent flying a couple of minutes ago. You must have looked fairly shocked, as Jonathan followed your gaze down to the wound and tried to brush your hand away.

“I-I’m fine. -really-” he started, but you only grabbed his arm and noticed a multitude of smaller blood stains all over his right side.

“Jesus, Jon, what did you land on, a pile of cutlery?” you asked, more concerned than anything else.

“Well it might as well have been.” he grumbled, quickly glancing over to the, now, broken table he had landed on.

“Right, well, let’s get you patched up.” you said, lightly tugging on his arm.

“Oh, there’s no need, honestly-” He protested before you cut him off.

“-Jonathan, there is a massive gash on your arm. Now come on, I have a first aid kit at my place.” you began leading him to the main exit.

“A-at your place?” he froze in his tracks.

“Yeah? What’s with the shocked face?” you looked back at him.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” you grinned at him. You said your goodbyes and thanked Mrs. Cobblepot for your invitation before dragging him off despite his insistence that he could just ignore it until the party was over and sort it himself.

“Look, you’ve made it clear that you don’t like it when I help but-”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I… I just didn't want to trouble you, that’s all!” That answer came a little too fast for you to fully believe it but you thought it would be best to drop the subject as it clearly flustered him.

As the two of you walked out into the warm summer night you loosened your grip on his upper-arm and let your hand glide down his arm and wrap around his wrist, not daring to go the full mile and hold his hand, though you could swear you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes as you did. As the two of you stepped into the parking lot and found your car, Scarecrow cleared his throat.

“[Name]?” he glanced over at you as he got into the passenger's side seat.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s okay if I stay the night, innit’? It’s just that my hideout is on the other side of the city and it’s already really late-”

“Well as long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, then sure.” you said as you pulled out of the parking space and onto the main road.

“Cheers, luv.”

What followed after that was near miss with an oncoming truck and your face becoming a bright red colour as your brain temporarily short-circuited. You looked over to make sure Jonathan was alright, only to see him gripping onto the seat like his life depended on it.

“Jesus- if you don’t like me calling you that then you can just say so- Bloody hell!”

“It’s not that, it’s just-” Your brain was working at 100 mph trying to talk your way out of this because: God- did you love the way he called you that. Unfortunately for you, he quickly caught on and was going to give you hell.

“Oh so you like me calling you ‘luv’, then?” The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk as he noticed the massive blush on your face.

“Wh- no- that’s not what I meant!”

“Sure thing, luv.” His smirk had turned into an ear-to-ear grin as he saw your face turn an even darker shade of red. This just elicited a loud, frustrated groan from you.

“I swear to God- do you want me to crash this car!” you snapped at him, smacking your hand off the steering wheel, which was only met with laughter as you yelled a string of expletives.

“You wouldn’t do that.” he stated, still giggling to himself.

“What makes you so sure of that?” You scoffed but you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when you saw the dorkiest grin on his face.

“You care about me.” He teased, resting his head on the back of his hands.

“Shut up.” You lightly punch his shoulder.

You tried to cover up the growing smile on your face with your free hand but failed as Jonathan noticed and pulled your hand down from your face, unintentionally encasing your hand in his. It took you both a while to realize it but once you did his hands immediately shot back to his sides and didn’t look at you for the rest of the car journey instead opting to twiddling his thumbs.

“We’re here.” you called, snapping him out of his daze.

You stepped out of your car and into the apartment block. Seeing as you were both still in costume, you darted for the elevator and hit the button. As the elevator began its ascension you took this opportunity to take a breather, knowing you would have to leg it to your apartment at the very end of the hallway lest someone see you and call the police. You sighed and leaned against the railing while looking at your reflection in the mirror but you couldn’t help noticing the way Scarecrow straightened the noose around his neck as if it was a tie. For fucks sake, if this keeps up you might just lose it. He met your gaze in the mirror and grinned at you.

“I mean, if you want to watch you can just look at me, it’s less creepy.” he chuckled but suddenly stopped as he winced in pain and grabbed his arm. You straightened yourself and rushed to his side. Luckily, you’d reached your floor and as the doors opened you grabbed Jonathan by the wrist and led to your apartment. You quickly looked around before inserting your key into the door, as you fumbled with the key, Jonathan remained eerily quiet compared to his usual gossipy self. You finally got the door to open and the two of you walked into the empty apartment. You felt about for the lightswitch and eventually found it.

“You go sit down, I’m just going to get the first aid from the bathroom.” you gesture towards the couch and walk off. You rummaged around for a bit, eventually finding it at the very back of the cupboard, you checked it’s contents to make sure you had the right stuff. You made your way into the living room and found Jonathan holding a book you’d left out on the coffee table earlier. He looked up at you and then the first aid kit in your hands.

“Right.” you started, taking out a few bandages. “Show me your arm.” After a few minutes of struggling he managed to roll up his sleeve and outstretched it to you. You gently took his hand and sat down next to him. You, deciding that it was probably best to treat the biggest cut first, took out an antiseptic wipe and lightly dabbed the wound Jonathan winced at this but a soft smile from you seemed to help.

“[name]?” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. I know I can be… difficult at times -but I really appreciate you dragging me here instead of leaving me to bleed out at the party.” he laughed nervously and averted his gaze from you.

“You're probably one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.” his voice cracked slightly.

You slightly cringed at the word ‘friends’, well, I suppose you better get comfy in the friend-zone. He swallowed and returned his arm to his side before continuing.

“A-and I’d like to be more than that-” he sputtered, beginning to fiddle with the ends of his noose.

“You… would?” you looked up at him, your heart feeling like it would burst out of your chest if it beated any faster than it already was.

“Yes.” he grabbed your hands and put them between his.

“I like you- a lot! I like your eyes, your face, the way you always know how to make me laugh” he snapped out of his daze.

“-But, I mean if you don’t feel the same way I completely understand, actually on second thought this was a horrible idea and you probably don’t so I’ll just leave and save you the trouble of kicking me out, like you should-” you could hardly keep up with the word vomit coming out of his mouth as he shot out of his seat.

“I’m sorry, I’ve probably wasted your time ‘cause you probably only see me as a friend and I’ve most likely just ruined our friendship so I’ll just leave and I swear you’ll never have to see me again so-” he made a break for the door but you quickly yanked on his wrist which almost caused him to fall backwards.

He caught himself just in time but was beginning to wish he’d just fallen to the floor instead as he realized he was using you to support himself and had wrapped his arms around your neck. He tried to push himself away, only for you to snake your arms behind his waist and trap him there. You could practically feel the warm air of his breath on you skin as he panted, you could feel yourself melting into his arms and did not stop him as he squeezed you tight. After a few moments, you managed to sit him back onto the couch.

“I want to be more than friends too.” you spoke softly, not missing the ear-to-ear grin on Jonathan’s face.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, he froze up for a split-second before wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“So, how far off was I?”

“Hmm?” you looked up at him.

“Remember earlier? When I said I saw you giving me looks?”

You gave an exasperated sigh and smirked.

“Was it Bane or TwoFace who had to point it out to you?”

“Both.” he answered with a slight laugh.

“But you’re not denying it!”

“Why would I, you were doing the exact same thing?” you scoffed, giving him a light punch on the arm.

“Oww- okay, okay, fair point.” he laughed as he pulled you back close to him, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“Y’know, if you were anyone else I would’ve killed you” you only half-joked, tracing shapes with your fingers onto his chest.

“I know” he laughed, placing a hand under your chin and lightly lifting it so you two were making eye-contact.

“-And that's what I lo-” he cut himself off. “I mean, like about you” he smiled sheepishly.

You only smiled before cupping his face and pulling him closer.

“I love you too, you fucking dork” you chuckled before leaning in and kissing him.

He practically jumped out his skin when you did, but as the realization sunk in he wrapped both arms around you and kissed back, eyes fluttering shut. His lips pressed softly against yours, as one of his hands travelled up your back and cupped the back of your head. The kiss itself was very soft and didn’t last too long, maybe only a couple of seconds, but to you it felt like an eternity. Your lips finally parted when you both were in desperate need for air, but that dazed look on his face made you want to do it all over again.

“You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” you smiled up at him.

“Same here” he added, before quickly pulling you back in for another kiss.

#harley quinn 2019 #scarecrow #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #dc comics x reader #harley quinn 2019 scarecrow

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