#him almost losing the helmet a second time with his jumping !!!!!

[tiger-balm]

@ canes : this kid 😂

[hpgal]

DC X DP Ghost Dog

CW: Blood, Violence

TLDR: Jason is fighting a losing battle against a new opponent he is having trouble hitting. This leads to him being chased and running into Danny whose chilling in an alley.

Word Count: 1326

a/n: Might write more where more Batfam encounter Danny and Danny's perspective, may even rewriting the ending of this. I got the idea from a prompt someone posted here on Tumblr and I forgot to save it but I'd love to tag them if anyone can help me find them! The prompt was something along the lines of Danny will randomly appear in alleys with items that the person needs exactly to solve a problem they were having.

Jason emptied his clip a long while ago and was now being chased through Crime Alley by some sort of dog. It was big. If was angry and it was... green?

The bullets did nothing to it but aggravated the thing and so it chased him. His comms weren't working to call for backup and he was getting tired. It's been 15 minutes of running and that was before you add on he was trying to fight the thing prior and he was now injured after taking a hit meant for a civilian.

He jumped off the rooftop, stumbling. Instead of catching the opposite ledge he plummeted to the ground. A dumpster broke his fall. But damn did it hurt, especially with a prexisting slash of claws on his side. He was still human after all. He had some time but he did not want to waste a single second before it could catch back up to him. So, begrudgingly and in pain, Jason pushed himself back up and out the dumpster.

"Great I'm going to smell like rotten fish for a week" he muttered to no one in particular as he brushed garbage off him.

Before he could formulate a game plan, his thought process froze. He looked up in confusion and blinked. Then blinked again as he stared at what he saw.

A kid with black hair and looked incredibly scrawny sat on a stoll behind a table with a sign "Clockworks Goods and Services!" The kid seemed unbothered with headphones on and eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall of the alley.

Hell the kid almost looked like Damian. If he has blue eyes he'd be a perfect candidate for a Bruce adoption. But why was a kid here.. selling his services?

Jason takes a moment to listen out and notice it is oddly quiet which meant the green dog must not be close yet so he takes advantage of the situation to figure out what the hell is going on here. He takes a step forward and looks at the contents on the table. It was empty except for a single bell with faded writing saying "ring me!" And so he did.

The kid opens his eyes with a start. They were piercing blue. Oh Bruce would fall for this kid instantly, he thinks to himself.

"Oh evening!" The kid starts as he stands up stretching as he removes his headphones from his head. "It looks like you're in need of my services. What is your problem today?"

The kid was so nonchalant as he spoke and moved around. The kid glanced at the table and furrowed his brow. "My names Danny by the way" he quickly adds on.

Jason stares at Danny through his mask perplexed. Something about this didn't sit right with him. It was late at night and Danny was hanging out in an alleyway selling services yet he looked not a day over 15.

But something drives him to answer Danny's question and answer it truthfully, "I'm fighting something and none of my attacks are working on it but it's causing destruction and hurting the people of Crime Alley. It even managed to injure me"

As soon as he says it, he wants to smack himself. Why would he need to tell the kid that? He shoyld be telling him to grt out of here, that it isn't safe.

Danny however shrugs like this was normal for him and looks down at the table again. The plastic folding tables surface remained empty except for the bell but Danny seems confused at this.

"Huh usually it appears when you say it." Danny mutters and proceeds to look under the table then behind him.

Jason however is further confused and raises a hand to his helmet to try his comms again. Unsurprisingly he hears only static. What he does hear instead of his families voices, is the barking of a dog in the distance and something crashing.

Aw shit.

Jason looks up then towards the entrance of the alley with a sigh, "Look, kid, I'm going to circle back to you and your... weirdness later, for now, you need to find somewhere safe while I deal with an abnormally large and green dog."

This seems to catch Danny's attention as he jerks back upright and looks at me. He stares, and I see the wheels in his head turn. He sighs, and his shoulders slump inwards.

"I get it now. I'm the service you need" Danny rolls his shoulders back and steps out from behind the table, heading to the entrance of the alley.

"Woah kid stay back! It's dangerous!" Jason calls out behind him as he jogs to catch up, only slightly twitching in pain as he moves. The kid was incredibly fast for someone who looked malnourished.

As soon as Jason reaches the street, he turns to see where the kid had gone. His eyes widened at the sight of Danny walking like it was just another day towards the rampaging dog.

Danny stops just out of reach of the green dog and whistles two quick notes. The dog pauses and looks towards Danny, its fast twisting from one of anger to excitement as evident with its tail wagging.

“Cujo!” Danny yells, “Bad dog! Drop the car!” the dog whines and drops the car it had in its mouth with a loud thud.

The dog, Jason now knows as Cujo, gets low to the ground and its ears press against its head like any dogs would when they are embarrassed or know they’ve been caught doing something they weren’t supposed too.

“Come here boy! It’s time to take you home!” Danny calls out to it, producing a glowing green dog treat from his pockets.

Jason just watches the entire encounter unfold, gobsmacked. He doesn’t know what to think of it. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was that simple. Who is this kid? As Jason continues to watch his jaw drops to the floor at what happens next.

The dog starts shrinking until it is ithe size of a puppy and comes bounding up to Danny with little playful barks. Danny scoops Cujo up with a sigh and scratches Cujos head right behind his ears.

Danny turns to look towards me, the street where Cujo came from a mess. He gives a sheepish smile and wave, “Sorry about that! I didn’t think Cujo followed me today! I’ll speak to my dog sitter about watching him more carefully next time!”

Danny turns back towards the chaos Cujo created on the street and glances at his watch. “Well, it’s time for me to clock out. I’ll send someone to clean up the mess! Sorry again!” Danny pauses for a moment as he glances once more at Jason, squinting.

A green glowing portal opens up behind Danny and he looks between Jason and the portal. He sets Cujo down and directs him to go through the portal. Danny jogs over to Jason, digging through his pockets.

“Oh sorry you’re hurt and sick. Probably my fault honestly. Here.” Danny shoves something into Jason's hands before he can protest, dumbfounded by what just happened, “That should get rid of the tainted Lazarus Waters in your soul and let your injury heal up like normal. Sorry again!”

Jason just stares before finally getting his bearings again, “Who the hell are you?!”

Danny just laughs, “I’m just your friendly neighborhood ghost.” and with that Danny leaves through the portal, it closing behind him leaving destruction and a baffled Jason in the street.

Like Danny promised, not even a few minutes later, another portal opened up in the streets of Crime Alley, spilling out dozens of glowing green people, who Jason started to believe were really ghosts. The ghosts got to work and by morning, it was like nothing happened.

At the next family dinner, no one believed Jason of what happened that night.

-----

a/n: I feel like we don't see Cujo enough in fics. I mean come on, a ghost dog? How cool is that?!?! I love Cujo <3 And we all know how much Cujo loves Danny!

[system-to-the-madness]

The Traitor - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 3 089 Warnings: mentions of torture, war, injuries, betrayl Summary: When Zuko attempts to break out the Avatar from Zhao’s prison, he is forced to bring someone else along as well A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part One of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

“We are the sons and daughters of fire, the superior element! Until today only one thing stood in our path to victory, the Avatar. I am here to tell you that he is now my prisoner!”

Admiral Zhao’s voice was booming over the crowd before him, and as tempted as Zuko was to roll his eyes underneath the blue mask he was wearing, he held back, rather focusing on sneaking past the guards.

He had one chance, this chance, to steal the Avatar right from underneath Zhao’s nose, and keep that boy as a prisoner himself. Then all he would have to do was make his way back to the Fire Nation, and present the Avatar to his father, and he would have restored his honour. Everything would be the way it was supposed to be. He by his father’s side, the Avatar in the deepest, securest cell the Fire Nation had to offer, and soon the world under the Fire Lord’s command.

His steps were quick, and almost inaudible, as he ran along the high walls, climbed down a rope and crossed a yard. Even when he had lifted aside the lid to the sewage, and jumped down into the underground tunnels, the water around his boots barely made a sound as if it was siding with him. He had to be quick, quiet and leave no trace. He had to be like a ghost.

The first guard that crossed his way was taken out faster than the poor guy was able to comprehend. The second guard, alarmed by the helmet Zuko had kicked out from behind a corner, followed suit as he tied him up and bound him, so he was hanging from the ceiling. As two more guards came to check, what the commotion was about, he attacked them from where he had hidden between some pipes on the ceiling. The last guard was taken out by a bucket full of water.

A moment later, he was able to slip into the cell, in which the Avatar was held. Pathetic, really, Zuko thought to himself. All this trouble just for a small boy dressed in oranges and yellows. Had that child really been able to put him through so much trouble? Swiftly he pulled his swords, ignoring the fearful screams of the Avatar at the action, and severed the chains holding him up. Surprised brown eyes looked up at him, as the Avatar was rubbing his uninjured wrists. Two more swings with his swords and the shackles around the boy’s wrists and ankles fell to the floor uselessly.

“Who are you?” The Avatar’s voice sounded so young, Zuko thought to himself, already turning to make his way out of the cell again. There was no time to lose; they had to leave immediately. “What’s going on? Are you here to rescue us?”

Instead of answering, Zuko simply pushed the door open and motioned for the Avatar to follow him.

“I'll take that as a yes."

Zuko quickly walked past the tied-up guards, when he heard the light footsteps of the boy catch up to him.

“We need to find my friend,” the Avatar said, urgency thick in his voice. “(Y/n) was captured along with me! I can’t leave without her- My frogs!”

The Avatar’s even footsteps halted, and when Zuko turned around, he found the boy kneeling on the floor, trying to catch some half-frozen frogs that desperately tried escaping his grabby hands.

“Come back! And stop thawing out!”

This time Zuko did not suppress the urge to roll his eyes, and instead walked back to the Avatar, grabbing him by the collar, and dragging him along.

“Wait! My friends need to suck on those frogs! And we need to find (y/n)! Hey, put me down!”

Zuko was hit by a gust of wind, knocking him forwards a step and making him drop the Avatar.

“I said: We need to find (y/n)!”

By all the spirits, this kid was annoying.

Zuko shot him a glance, as if to say ‘then where is she?’, and sure enough the Avatar turned and raced down another corridor, Zuko following him, while he tried to remember if he knew your name. He had run into the Avatar and his little team of run-aways before. There were the boy and the girl from the Water Tribe, and of course that Sky Bison. But there was another girl, too. Zuko had never paid any attention to her, and her clothes didn’t give away where she came from. Maybe the Earth Kingdom, or a remote region of the Fire Nation even.

Traitor.

If she was Fire Nation, why was she helping the Avatar? And if she was a traitor, why should he free her? It was only another risk, one that would put his whole mission in jeopardy. But he needed the Avatar to follow him out of the base without making a fuzz. And for that, apparently, he needed to free this girl. He would simply knock her out after they had made it past the walls. Then he’d grab the Avatar and he’d be back on track with his plan.

The Avatar led him to another block of cells, these unguarded, but behind every door, there was the groaning and complaining of hungry and beaten men. Behind every door except for one. While the Avatar had kept walking, Zuko stopped in front of the only door behind which it was quiet. Maybe the cell was empty, but his instincts told him differently. Getting on his tiptoes, he spied through the bars in the door into the cell, and sure enough he saw the small, curled-up form of a girl laying on the ground.

Not hesitating for a moment, he pulled his swords and hurled them against the locks keeping the door closed. The clash of metal against metal alarmed the Avatar, who came running back to his side, but by the time he reached the door, Zuko had already stepped into the cell.

You were slowly sitting up, clearly irritated at the sudden noise, and even in the twilight Zuko could make out the bruises on your face and arms. The soldiers had beaten you. Cowards, honourless cowards. You were no bender, you barely seemed to pose any threat as it was, otherwise he’d remember you better from his previous run-ins with the Avatar, but they still had beaten you.

“What-”

Before you could ask what was going on, or protest, he had grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you to your feet. From up close, he could tell you were about his age, maybe even a little younger, and if it hadn’t been for the bruises on your face, and the dirt crusting your hair, you would have even been beautiful.

Then he saw the emblem of the Fire Nation dangling on the thin leather necklace you wore, and any sense of attraction vanished as quickly as it had flickered to life. You were Fire Nation, and you betrayed your country by helping the Avatar. He should knock you out on the spot and let you rot in this stinking cell. Who cared what the guards did to you?

In that moment a strangled cry of joy sounded from behind him, and like a lightning of orange and yellow the Avatar shot past him, practically wrapping himself around you.

“I found you,” the Avatar yelped, quickly letting go of you when you began swaying under the sudden impact of your friend. “This nice, masked man here is saving us! He’s just not very talkative.”

You were clearly dazed, from pain, a lack of water or food, Zuko wasn’t sure. But still you made him squirm in his boots as you stood up as straight as possible and took in his appearance for a moment. You weren’t as tall as him, but something in your eyes made him realize that maybe you weren’t as harmless as he had believed.

“Nice, masked stranger, hm,” you questioned, your voice raspy, and you swayed again.

Damn traitor. Who did you think you were, judging him like this?

Ignoring the racing thoughts in his mind, Zuko turned back to the door, leaving the cell without another word.

“We need to go,” the Avatar told you, and behind him, Zuko could hear two sets of footsteps following him, the light steps of the Avatar and your heavier, almost shuffling steps. You really were in bad shape. He knew it had been a bad idea to go save you. You’d only slow them down.

Together you were creeping through the corridors, back into the canalization system. As Zuko climbed out, he didn’t look back to see whether you were following. He could only hope the Avatar had enough sense of self-preservation to leave you behind, should you not even be able to climb out of a shaft like this. But a moment later, as he was standing pressed against a wall, spying around the corner, you came to a halt next to him, followed by the Avatar. Your movements were still not as fluid as his own, but you seemed not as sluggish anymore as when he had found you in the cell. Maybe the movement and the fear that was doubtlessly cursing through your veins gave you the energy to keep going.

Zuko motioned to the wall, where he had left behind the rope which he had used to lower himself into the yard, and following on his heels, you and the Avatar ran after him towards it.

“(Y/n), go first,” the Avatar encouraged, making Zuko want to shake him. Didn’t he see? You were unimportant, a traitor at that, and the slowest of the group. If anything, you should go last, so it was easiest to leave you behind.

But before even a sound of protest was leaving Zuko’s lips, you had already grabbed the rope, and pulled yourself into the air with surprising speed, immediately followed by the Avatar. He wasn’t going to get rid of you so easily, was he?

You had made it almost half-way up the wall, when suddenly an alarm rang and just a moment later a guard appeared over the edge of the wall, cutting the rope. For a moment Zuko was in free fall, having just enough time to realise that a fall from this hight would mean a few broken bones at best, when a gust of wind caught him, you and the Avatar, before you fell the last inches to the ground.

Quickly looking around, trying not to let the sudden plummet towards the ground get into his head, Zuko pointed towards the still open gates, immediately taking off with you and the Avatar close on his heels.

“Stay close to me,” the Avatar instructed and overtook Zuko and you, continuing the sprint towards the gate that was slowly closing.

A group of soldiers who had tried blocking your way simply got blasted aside by the Avatar, and Zuko couldn’t help but shoot you a glance to see your reaction. But your eyes were only focused on the gate, following the Avatar, as if you had seen him blast people out of the way a hundred times. You probably had.

That was the moment two soldiers got Zuko from the side, and even the Avatar had to grab a weapon, swinging it around, using it to create air blasts. For a moment, and with a reasoning Zuko couldn’t even explain to himself, he searched for you, fully prepared to jump to your aid, should you need it.

Instead, he found you standing over the crumbled bodies of three guards, who were groaning on the ground. In your hands, you were holding two swords, and Zuko couldn’t help but freeze. A blast of air picked up your hair, gently playing around it, as you stood proudly over your defeated enemies. Nothing seemed to be left of the sluggishness from just a few minutes ago, when Zuko had pulled you to your feet in that cell. Now, you seemed to be on high alert, perfectly aware of what you were doing, and ready for a fight. There was a light glimmering in your eyes that made Zuko wonder how he hadn’t taken notice of you before; after all he had run into you several times already. But something about the way you stood now, both feet securely anchored to the ground, this spark of defiance and determination in your eyes, fingers closed around weapons you clearly knew how to handle… for a moment Zuko couldn’t help but think how perfect you looked. The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come to him. You were a traitor to the Fire Nation, despicable, cowardly, disloyal. Before he could continue the list of negative attributes he associated with you, he picked up on the group of soldiers that were moving in from the side: Fire Benders.

Quickly pushing himself between them and you, he began attacking them with his own flames, only noticing from the corner of his by the mask limited vision, that you had picked the fight back up again. He was right in the process of firing a blast at a couple of soldiers, when suddenly a wave of fire was rolling towards him. No, not towards him, towards his left side- where you stood. Reacting faster than he would have thought possible himself, he grabbed your arm, his fingers closing around your biceps underneath that flimsical shirt you had been made to dress into as a prisoner, and quickly he pulled you aside, using his other hand to send a quick interval of fire balls back towards the attackers.

The chocked cry that suddenly reached his ears made his heart freeze over and the short shaven hair in his neck stand up. Had he been too slow? Had you been hit by the blast anyway? When he swivelled around, the smell of burnt flesh reached his nose, making sour stomach acid burn in the back of his throat. Small flames were licking at the fabric of your shirt, and when he pulled his hand away as if he had been the one who had been burnt, a fresh burn wound in the shape of his hand was wrapped around your arm. He had been in the middle of a blast when he had reached for you, burning you while trying to save you from being hit by the fire of the soldiers.

Quickly he drew in the flames on your shirt, extinguishing them, but the damage to your skin was done. He had tried to save you and instead he had burnt you. What a laughable metaphor for his whole life. But still something inside his chest tightened up, wound so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever come undone again. He shouldn’t care, he told himself as his eyes flickered to your pain distorted face. You were a traitor, a means to an end, you would be left behind the moment he and the Avatar had made it past the walls.

But still- he couldn’t help but wonder how you held yourself together. Burn-wounds were some of the most painful wounds there were, he knew that, and yours wasn’t exactly small. Still, no more sound slipped over your lips, and even though you had dropped the sword in your left hand, you were ready to keep fighting with the sword in your right.

But before it came to that, your attackers were blast away by an air current, and the Avatar came running.

“(Y/n), are you hurt,” he asked, his voice filled with worry. Envy spread in Zuko’s stomach. Nobody ever worried about him like that.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, quickly covering up your wound, hiding it from the Avatar.

But now your luck had finally run out, it seemed. You were with your backs to the closed gate, Zuko and you the last barrier between the approaching soldiers and the Avatar.

“Hold your fire!” The voice belonged to Zhao, who came stepping past the Fire Benders, that were ready for the final attack. “The Avatar must be captured alive!”

Quickly assessing the situation, Zuko grabbed the Avatar, pulling the boy so his back was to Zuko’s front, the blade of one of his swords dangerously close to cutting into the thin skin of this neck. At his side, he could tell you were moving to attack him, no hesitation in your movements when you realized he was threatening your friend’s life, but before you had even fully pointed your sword at him, Zuko had dropped one of his own, and held his open palm right into your face. One wrong move on your end, and he could blast your head away in a ball of flame. He wouldn’t, but you didn’t know that.

It seemed like the wordless demand Zuko was uttering as he stared over to Zhao was understood, because after a moment of internal debating, the Admiral pressed out: “Open the gate.”

Behind them, the gate opened, heavy metal running against the earthy ground, and Zuko dragged the Avatar backwards, motioning you to come with them. The expression on your face was one of pure disgust and hatred as you stared at the mask that was covering his face, but followed his instruction. Why was he even taking you along? He could just leave you behind now, then he wouldn’t have to deal with you later. But then again, the Admiral would start getting suspicious if he only took the Avatar and not also his friend. It would make it too obvious that he was after the Avatar. If he also took you, it would seem like one of your allies had come to your rescue. So, all in all, it would be better to take both of you.

At least that was what Zuko told himself as he was guiding the Avatar backwards, away from the slowly closing gate. You were watching each of his movements, as if you were looking for an opening to attack him. He had already hurt you; you knew what his flames were capable of, and still you were ready to take him on in a fight, just to defend your friend. It seemed as if while you were a traitor, perhaps you were not a coward after all.

That was his last proper thought before something silver shot through the night, and hit him in the head, knocking him out on the spot.

Next Chapter (04. Oct. 2024) | Masterlist

Tags (it seems like some of the tags aren't working, sorry...): @ghoststookourlifes @ashcal99 @4acoffee @pxrplewalnxt @toomuchboredd @banished--prince @oddobsessionbutotay @makik0 @joysflower @hamdehlesmis @mitski9328373 @angstylittleb1tch @lovecalll

[samcat71470558]

K, but consider this.

Goose Echo had a friend. Like, a brother friend. That died in an accident. Delta. Like. When Goose died in Top Gun but it's Mav instead.

969 words <3

tw/death, drowning (not really descriptive), grief(..? Kinda..?)

I swear these guys are such blanc slates according to the wiki yk I had to give 'em some trauma 😔/j

-------

Echo hated the empty feeling in his tanks when he was alone. Bravo was out, doing god knows what, Delta (Mav) has other things on his head, and he's stuck on board the ship. His engines ached for a little action. Suddenly a bang sounds through the hall, followed by a scream. Delta!

"...Delta?!"

Echo's engines flared up with fear. Delta never, never screams like that, unless he's in real trouble.

"Delta!"

He rolls forwards, cautious for any debris or gas or whatever could cause his best friend to scream. Glass cracks under his lading gear. "...N-no..." His movements get more frantic, every corner he passes feeling like a clump of ice drops in his tanks. It's quiet...

He rounds another corner, and...

"BOO!" Delta jumps out, wings folded with his wingflaps up. He's grinning like an idiot, his red-blue helmet shining in the dim light. "HAH! Oh man, Echo... You should've seen the look on your fa-ha-haace... Wooooh..." He snickers, putting his wings and flaps back down when he sees the annoyance in Echo's face. "Sorry, sorry... I just... y'know, I had to. But you gotta admit, that was good, huh?" Echo groans, angrily swatting Delta with his wing. "...Bastard... I thought you were in real trouble."

He sighs, and gives Delta the Disappointed Dad™ stare. Not that he's his dad, he just likes doing it.

"I'll be on deck if you need me, scrubbing window-washer fluid out of my eyes."

Delta just snickers, and starts cleaning again.

«»

"Okay, so lemme get this straight. You two figures are going to do what?!" Bravo never heard so much bullshit in one sentence. First, Echo and Delta were gonna do the most dangerous stunt he'd ever heard of. And they were gonna do it in opposite directions, at the same time. This could only end in chaos.

Echo snorts, flapping his flaps up.

"Come on, you gotta stop being so ice cold to these ideas, man! Come on, join in! Delta knows what he's doin'."

Delta, who's standing a little away, does in fact not know what he's doing. "Come on Echo! Let him sulk, we're gonna have some real fun!"

And Echo believed him.

«»

It went so well, and then...

"DELTA!" Jet wash, the most dangerous thing in aviation. When Echo and Delta passed each other at the top of their loops, Delta flew straight through Echo's. His engines splutter, his eyes wide as he loses altitude. "ECHO!" He tries everything to get out, to just climb, gain altitude, gain his engines back... There's tears dripping down the sides of his face (not from fear, but from the fact that he's plummeting to the ground at mach 11045 or something), teeth gritted in concentration. Bravo tries snatching him out of the sky, but in the process he almost takes himself down too. At the last moment he has to disengage, letting Delta splash into the icy ocean below. For a second they see his terrified face below the surface, before he sinks into the deep, dark blue. And Echo can't stop the soft whine his engine makes.

«»

The funeral is short, but even that's too much for Echo. He blames himself. It was his jet wash, after all. That must make him guilty, right?

He got send to the mainland for a few days, getting a court reading where they explain neatly how this wasn't his fault, since a jet wash is invisible, and he didn't intent to down Delta, and blah, blah... Echo'd stopped listening after they said he wasn't guilty.

But still, he felt incredibly, incredibly guilty.

"...I should've gone down, not him..."

He barely left his room for a week after coming back to the carrier, his head hurting from the many sleepless nights he'd spent in his quarters.

"...It's just... not fair, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, buddy."

Only Bravo could coax him out of his room sometimes, getting him some fuel and talking for a bit. But he knew it too; the old Echo was gone. Replaced with a shivering wreck of a plane that was almost too scared to even fly...

Until that faithful day when he did. Bravo finally managed to convince Echo to go out flying with him, promising to not even go near his rear to avoid the jet wash. It was stupid, but anything to get his best friend back was worth a shot.

They loaded onto the catapults, and took off. The second Echo got airborne he sunk down, landing gear out as if trying to land on the water. His eyes lock onto the ocean, seeing the face of Delta sinking down slowly into the blue...

"...B-Bravo..? I... I'm gonna go back..." Bravo whirled around, spotting his friend slowly moving back to the carrier. "No. Echo..." He quickly caught up, giving Echo his recreation of the other jet's famous Disappointed Dad™. "Come on, one lap. You agreed to one lap around the perimeter. It's just 83 kilometres..." Echo sighed, regret and desire swirling in his tanks until he got nauseous. He did agree to one lap...

He sighed, then pulled up. "Fine. One lap."

«»

Once Echo got up to speed, the doubt slowly started to melt away like snow in the sun. Hell, he even found a smile tugging his mouth as he sped up more and more, overtaking Bravo at Mach 1. In less than four minutes he'd cleared the lap, engines roaring for the second. "Keep up, slow coach!" Bravo growled, engines flaring up as he caught up to Echo again. "There he is! There's my stupid idiot Echo!"

«»

After the race, the ice clump in Echo's tanks melted slightly. He still felt chilly and alone, but knowing Bravo had his tail fins really made everything a lot better for him.

[delicatesoundofthunderr]

Lock up ~ Chapter 6

{Charles Leclerc x Reader}

French GP - race 8

Y/N POV

I didn't really know how to feel towards Leclerc's words. It shouldn't affect me since I'm not even dating Max, but the fact he seemed so mad made me feel a thousand things. Mostly satisfied, since there was nothing more fun than to annoy Leclerc deeply. I don't know where his anger comes from though. Maybe the thought of me happy? The same could be said for me when I saw him and that girl laugh.

With all these confusing sentiments, I decided to open my phone.

Not this account again...

@F1.drama

MAX HAS BEEN CAUGHT CHEATING...

Yall... We don't even know who this girl is, but that is not Y/N. They've also been caught kissing :((. I feel so bad for Y/N, she's never gonna win a grand prix ever again without Max's help...

@chloe.gal: nah that's wrong... also wdym by Y/N never winning again?

-> @F1.drama: Max let her win obvi.

-> ->@faia.gg: girl shut up...

@hrts414: omg Charles predicted it in the interview... it did end badly :((

Fuck. I was gonna kill Max. First, he makes it look like he gave me the win, and now, he's cheating? He's doing the contrary of what the deal's purpose was supposed to be. He's making me look so bad right now.

I furiously get up from my chair and almost knock it over, and make my way to the other side of the RedBull garage.

I spot him near his car, and when his eyes meet mine he already knows why I'm here. He motions me to follow him. We're now in his quarters, and I explode.

" Are you fucking kidding me Max? You're ruining everything for me!" I start, with emotion.

" Listen,"

" No, I won't listen, I'm not done! Did you hear what they say about my win? About me? Fake dating or not, you should say something,"

I fume.

" It's not my place to say anything..." Max stammers.

" It is! It fucking is, because you know what? You're a man. You're a fucking man and the media likes to make your voice louder than mine." I say, pointing my finger accusingly.

" That's not even true, you're overreacting. Everyone loves you, they have to, you're the only girl on the grid." He says almost rolling his eyes.

Who the fuck was he rolling his eyes to?

" Excuse me? Oh, be honest Max, did you, or did you not let me win." I say heavily.

" I... I did." he says, looking at the very interest wall.

The silence following suffocates me and my heart feels like it dropped a thousand feet. I guess that wasn't really the answer I was expecting.

" I hate you. I will always and forever fucking hate you for this, Max." I say with a shaky and cold voice.

Max's face is already contorted with guilt. I turn away without looking back.

•••

French GP - race #9

The free practices went great, and so did qualifying. P3. I could very much make something out of this position. I was going to prove to Max and everybody else that I didn't need any help to win.

With my head clearest as possible and a shaky breath, I start the engine. The first corner in France comes rather quickly, and I see Carlos in my mirrors getting closer and closer. I brake the latest possible, and make it out.

After a few push laps, I keep Carlos behind and slowly close the gap between me and Lando in front. I lose no time and overtake him from the outside, which lifts my mood up.

Next is Max.

He is more angled towards offence, which should give me an advantage.

Apparently Max had worked on his defense.

All througout the race, he braked a split second after me, tugged the steering wheel to close a path that was forming, and overall delivered a spotless, perfect race.

My thoughts were racing faster than me. He was doing this so... effortlessly. I can't believe I thought it was my efforts paying off when i overtook him back in Italy. Turns out it was just part of his game and I hadn't actually accomplished anything.

My thoughts seemed to cross the finish line faster than me as I parked the car and got up.

Acting for the camera, I jump in Max's arms and tap his helmet. I could very well manage a P2, it's a podium and good points. Something I was managing less at the moment was the growing pit in my stomach and a distant headache forming.

•••

On my way back to the garage, I see my dad appear around the corner. The pit in my stomach seems to deepen endlessly as he spots me and walks faster.

" I heard the news. You realize that win is completely worthless, stolen?" his stare is cold, and any trace of pride he had at the last Grand Prix was completely wiped off his hard face.

I want to say something. Scream, maybe? Nothing would come out. My throat has tighten to a point where I doubt I'm breathing anymore.

" I... I'm sorry." I manage to croak out, my eyes are burning with stubborn tears and I can't find one ounce of courage to look up at my dad.

He walks away without adding anything.

My nails dug in my palm and left a stinging sensation. My dad, who I had managed to impress for the first time in my life, was now turning his back on me again. He had every right, I was yet again making a fool of myself in a world I knew I didn't belong in.

I almost missed the pair of eyes watching my every move from a safe distance. How long had he been there? This was a secluded area of the paddock, and few people were around.

Leclerc's eyes burn holes through mine, and he seems to be looking at the parts of my mind I myself can't reach. With a final blink, he shakes his head and turns around.

My legs carry me stubbornly over to him, and my hand flies to his shoulder.

Taken aback, he turns around with a perplexed look.

" I don't know why you keep staring at me like I'm some fucking gum underneath your shoe, but can you please stop?" I furiously said, emotion painting my voice. Charles’ face morphs from confusion to anger.

" I can't believe you still let your dad walk all over you like that. And Max cheating! Do you not have an ounce of self respect left in you? I don't know what happened, but something changed ever since you joined that team"

" Changed!? You're the one talking to me about changing? I cannot believe you Leclerc." I spit. "Some of us actually have to make sacrifices to survive in this sport, you know?"

" Oh, I would know alright." his tone made me stepback. No, not his tone. His gaze.

His gaze was not angry anymore, it was full of regret and something more. Years ago this expression would've made me soften my voice, but like he said, things had changed.

" You're everyone's favourite. Ferrari's golden boy. You've got a supportive team ready to do everything to see you on top of the podium, and you don't have to get shit from the media when you make the slightest mistake." I accuse, but I'm not done.

" And you know what Charles? I think all of this would bother me way less if you actually treated me like a human being. Yes, maybe the media and pressure changed me, but you have nothing to excuse your shitty behaviour towards me." I fume.

He stayed quiet. He seemed to search for something to say that would make him innocent, but nothing could save him now.

“ You wouldn’t get it.” he mumbled, which I almost didn’t catch.

He takes my hand off his shoulder, which I didn’t notice was still clutching his shirt.

A thousand things seem to spill out of his head, but none of them make it to his mouth. He simply turns around and heads back to his garage.

I do the same, and opened my phone when I get to my own room.

@chloe.gal

stop because the pic of max cheating with the flowers literally makes me think of Charles when he gave Y/N some flowers after her first podium… what the hell happened between these two??

The flowers… I remember like it was yesterday. Charles had ran after me at the airport because I had to catch a quick flight, flowers and gifts in his hands. The bouquet combined my favourite colours and flowers, which was such a thoughtful gesture.

I re read the caption.

what the hell happened between these two?

Tears start to blur my vision and a wave of sorrow suffocates me, because what the hell happened between me and him? I miss our friendship so much but he seems to be doing just fine without me.

I get a text from Carlos asking me if I wanted to do something tonight and gladly accept. I had to get my mind off things for a bit.

•••

[mybworlds]

Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: This story sets 15 yrs before The Mandalorian events, Din Djarin is hired by Rebel Alliance forces to protect and escort you, the princess of a dead planet, to your new home.

Series warnings: use of you, violence, science fantasy elements, slow burn, angst, fluff, mutual pining, eventual smut (18+ MDNI), trauma.

A/N Here is the second story to be updated that you’ve chosen, I repeat the others will arrive in the next few days. Thanks as always for following me. Love ya ❤️

Masterlist

Thanks @idontgetanysleep and @saradika-graphics the dividers. Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner.

Taglist: @thegreenkid2, @harriedandharassed if someone else wants to be added let me know.

The Mandalorian didn't say anything to you so as not to scare you, but they are very close, they are looking for you, he sees them, they are on a hill almost in the vicinity of the clearing. He will keep them busy, you have to stay hidden and safe, that's his priority, that's his mission.

He doesn't run, he walks. He's sure you're watching him, but because he doesn't want to worry he doesn't walk away quickly, he still hasn't understood why you were so special to that man who called himself your father's servant, but it doesn't matter, he never asked why in his previous missions, he just did it. He'll just act this time too, he's been told that you're special and that you have to get to your destination alive? And so it will be.

When he is far enough away from you and your gaze, he runs, as fast as his armor allows him, he has come very close to that large group that is looking for you, he crouches down and picks up his rifle, straining his ears: he hears strange buzzing and sounds, and at that moment your words about the inhabitants of that Planet reading his mind come back to him; so maybe they know he's there and waiting for them. Well, they'd be playing on equal terms!

Suddenly, not even a step away from him, the Mandalorian hears a bang and clods of earth rise up creating a whirlwind of dust, he rolls onto his side out into the open and fires, once, twice, immediately hitting his first two targets which are disintegrated. The Mandalorian rolls back behind a large log, hiding and waiting to hear the next noises that might betray the presence of other enemies, a stamping sound makes him understand that he is not alone again, he comes out into the open again and shoots, killing a third enemy, he was about to return to his hiding place when someone rains on him, a fourth unexpected enemy jumps on him making him lose his balance and above all his weapon. He falls forward, but rolls back onto his back just in time as the fourth man was about to shoot him in the back and kill him; instead, luckily the Mandalorian blocks the weapon by ripping it out of his hands and turning it against his fourth enemy who falls backwards.

Moments later a hail of bullets ripples through the air, more enemies are approaching. The Mandalorian crouches behind a rock and watches where his enemies are, some are still far away, a small group is running away, two are quite close. He immediately retrieves his rifle and after a couple of failed attempts, manages to hit two more of them who are pulverized. He hears another noise and when he turns around, he sees you, he was about to hit you convinced that you were another enemy.

“I could have killed you!” he exclaims almost annoyed.

“I wanted to help you.” You justify yourself, looking at him guiltily, he shakes his head.

“It wasn’t necessary, but thanks.”

You nod, smiling nervously at him, “Hey, you're hurt!” you exclaim, looking at his partially torn armor on his shoulder.

He turns his helmet to his shoulder and brings a hand to the tear, “It’s just a scratch.”

You look to where you imagine his eyes are, “I’m fine.” He looks around as if to make sure you’re alone. “We need to get back on the road.”

Neither you nor he speak to each other until you reach his Razor Crest. The spacecraft is not in bad condition. It is only slightly scorched on the sides, perhaps due to contact with the atmosphere.

When you take your eyes off the opening hatch for a moment, you notice the drops of blood at his feet. You look at him scared, he doesn't even seem to realize that you're looking at him or maybe he just ignores your worried look.

“We need to take off immediately,” he announces, as you enter the ship “If we use the thruster beams we should…” a roar echoes through the ship, you duck as if to protect yourself, while the Mandalorian takes you in his iron arms and shields you.

You don't see what he does, but you hear the ship creaking so you deduce that the hatch is closing. The gunshots continue until they become a distant noise and the man loosens his grip.

You turn to him and see him put his hand to where the tear is.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, looking at him.

“I need to get some medical treatment. I can’t continue the journey like this,” he says, putting down his hand and finding it covered in blood. “Okay, you have to assist me for takeoff. I’ll tell you what to do.” you nod.

Together you enter the cockpit and take a seat. He fiddles with a series of buttons on his left, then he places his hands on the spaceship's control stick and then gives you the order to give it power so it can take off.

Completely unexpectedly you manage to take flight and leave the Planet. Your travel companion doesn't say a word, the journey turns out to be very boring and probably if you hadn't seen what you saw and you couldn't stop thinking about how that strange energy was released from your hands against that woman, you would have already collapsed.

“How will they treat you?” you ask him.

“What?” he replies, surprised by your question.

“In this place where we are going, there will be someone who will take care of you, right?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I thought you needed treatment.” you say perplexed.

“Yes, indeed.”

“So, there will be someone who will take care of you.”

“No. I will treat myself. No one must see my face.” he clarifies.

“What’s wrong with showing your face?” you ask, turning your head towards him.

“It’s our credo. If you embrace it, there are no exceptions,” he explains.

“But you will take off your armor,” you say, “you said you can never take it off.”

“That’s right.” he agrees. “However, there are some planets in our solar system that allow for exceptions.” he adds. “As long as no one sees us.”

“What if that happens?” you ask him.

“It’s complicated to explain. Forget it,” he answers you hastily.

For a while you remain silent, “Can I ask you something?” You look towards him and, not hearing any sign of agreement or dissent, you continue, “What is your name?”

“Din.” he answers you.

“Din,” you repeat, “is that your name or a nickname?”

“That’s my name.” He replies. “Someone uses the nickname Mando,” you smile. “What’s there to smile about?”

“Sorry.” you say looking away “I’m not smiling at you. It’s just this nickname that’s funny. Not you. I mean, you’re… anything but funny.” you are babbling.

“You're a funny one,” he says to you “Have you always been so chatty or did you become this way?” he asks you.

“This is the first time you’ve asked a question about me,” you state with a smile. “Anyway, yes, I talk a lot, but only when I’m nervous,” you confess.

“What is making you so nervous? Is it me or is it something else?”

You clench your hands nervously and bite your bottom lip, “No… Um, it’s not your fault.” You feel his gaze on you “The truth is, I don't know what happened when that creature touched me. It's like a force was released from my hands,” you say, massaging your palm. “I know it's absurd, but it was such a powerful feeling and it was like every little part of me felt it spreading and then it could explode out of my body...” you stop “You’ll think I’m weird.”

“Was it your first time?” he asks you.

You nod.

“That man. The one I talked to, didn't he tell you anything strange about yourself?” you shake your head “I'm sure there's a reason.” you nod.

You sigh, nodding, then look up at him, and then you notice how blood is staining his armor. You look at him worriedly, “How much longer?”

“Little time.”

You know he's suffering, but you know he won't tell you a word.

When you arrive on this mysterious new planet, you feel as if you are among banks of pink clouds dotted with stardust. As soon as the Razor Crest lands, you unhook yourself from your seats and he, before you, moves first, exiting the cockpit.

The people of that planet seem to be friendly. Perhaps a little odd in their costumes so different from what you were used to wearing. The sun is not as hot as your beloved Arkanon's.

Oh, how you miss your parents, your father's warm and powerful tone, that slightly austere air, but actually just marked by life, your mother's ringing tone and sometimes her long silent hugs! You even miss your brothers and their constant desire to joke and take you with them on their many adventures and misadventures!

No one survived.

Your heart aches, you're alone. Sure, you have your droid friend, but it can never fill that void, that now familiar feeling of not belonging anywhere.

I miss you. All of you.

You feel empty, the people here treat you well. They made you wear a clean robe, it's so thin that you almost shiver inside it, but you just thank them. They are kind, they they offer you something to drink and eat. They even accepted your droid friend and apparently not everyone accepts them and looks favorably on them.

You haven’t seen saw the Mandalorian , Din, after you were greeted by the villagers. You imagine he went to get treated. You would like to say hello and ask him how he is, but you know that he probably can't see you right now. So, your looking for him would be useless. You might as well wait.

So, you decide to explore this Planet that seems to have come out of a dream. Everyone is happy. Everyone wears the same colors. Everyone has a life of their own that they know will begin and end here.

Who knows if your wandering will end one day and if you too will one day have a happy and stable life somewhere!

You approach what looks like a river, the water is not blue as it was on your planet, but it is aqua green and the fish that occasionally jump from its waters are pink. You smile.

You sit down nearby and enjoy this singular spectacle. You lift your head towards the pink clouds and then close your eyes letting yourself be lulled by the gurgling of the water and by that pleasant climate.

In moments of absolute peace like this, you think — or perhaps you delude yourself — that you can be at peace with every little part of the universe. And you even think that you can still be at home. You can almost feel the warm sun of Arkanon, the mild air of your home, everything is so peaceful...

When you open your eyes, you're on a bed and you're alone.

What the...?!

By the time you stand up and the Mandalorian opens the curtain.

Din.

You still have to get used to the fact that he has a name.

“What happened?” you ask him.

“You had what’s called hypoxia,” he replies. “I brought you this. It’ll help with your headache.” He adds, showing you a syringe.

You hadn't even realized you had a headache until that moment.

“How did you know that?” you ask him.

“I had it too.” you whisper “May I?” he asks, coming closer to you “It’ll help.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Apart from the sting, no.”

You nod, Din approaches you “Uncover your arm,” he says, as he slips off his gloves, revealing his fingers.

If you still had any doubts that he was not human, you'd say that you no longer have any.

You undo the knot of your dress at chest level and then slide the dress off one shoulder, keeping it at chest level. You then look up at him, nodding your head.

He places a hand just below your shoulder as if to slightly stretch your skin, the contact of his fingers makes you shiver.

You turn your head away as he brings the syringe closer, you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the needle penetrate your skin and then the muscle in your arm.

“Did you get treatment?” you ask him.

“Of course,” he replies.

He's right, it doesn't hurt except for the needle. You swallow, take a deep breath, and then ask him, “Do you trust these people?”

“With my job, I've gotten to know all kinds of people. They're good people. In their own way.” You take another deep breath and your head feels less heavy. “We're all good in our own way.” he adds pulling out the needle and then rubbing your skin hard “Get dressed.” he says again and you obey.

You can barely look up at him. You almost feel uncomfortable not knowing what his face or expression is.

“Thank you.” you say, adjusting your dress “Um, are you okay now?” you ask when he is about to leave.

He turns back looking at you, “Yes.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?” you ask him when he’s about to leave you again “Have you always been this way? I mean… Did you always know who you were going to be? I know it’s none of my business,” you continue, interpreting his silence as annoyance, “it’s just that I don’t know who I am anymore.” you lower your head shaking It, “I’m sorry. I know you don't care." You suddenly feel tears gathering behind your eyes. "I don't know why I'm with you. I don't know what Nanuk knew or thought he knew. Sometimes I wish I was dead with my people rather than being taken from one place to another without knowing why or where,” you confess to him.

Din listens to you in silence, you don't know what he's thinking or if his expression is bored or compassionate.

You're about to tell him to let it go, not to give weight to your ravings, when he adds, “I know where we’re going. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

[ghostmistdraws]

Get Him To Swap Our Places

Synopsis: Hunter and Crosshair were able to kill the clone assassin... but they're not prepared for who they find underneath that helmet.

Word Count: 1136

A/N; WARNING ANGST AHEAD!!! I've never post any of my fics on Tumblr, but I figured this might do well here. Anyway, still sobbing from the finale so forgive any spelling errors

Crosshair was barely awake and his head was throbbing for the second time. Every single terrible memory of this place was replaying all over again. He’d gotten his brothers captured, tortured. It should have been him, they should have ran and called for backup. Now they were all going to die, because of his failure.

But, fate had other plans for them. And fate’s name was Omega. She’d come back for him, she’d come back for him again. 

Crosshair's body ached and his head spun. He was seeing double, which definitely didn’t help with his already terrible aim. But he still fought like hell. For his brothers, for his sister.

The Darktroopers were highly skilled, highly trained. Crosshair knew that, he remembered the conditioning process all too well. His hands still trembled whenever he thought about it. But, he clenched his fists tighter around his blaster and pressed on. His shots were a little sloppy and uncoordinated, things that would have got him highly reprimanded when he was a cadet on Kamino. Yet, right now, all he could think about was keeping his family alive.

Crosshair screamed out as he saw Hemlock cuffing Omega and dragging her away. He thought he did, at least, but not a single sound came out of his mouth. A sinking feeling rushed through his body at the thought of losing her all over again. Crosshair knew how skilled she truly was, but he couldn’t stop that jolt of anxiety that ran through his body at the very idea.

But the only thing that filled his veins the moment Omega left his sight was rage. He knew these Darktroopers were not acting of their own accord, but he still was pissed. He was pissed at Hemlock.

Crosshair saw red. He didn’t care what happened to him now, he was going to fight like hell to save his family. If he died, so be it. He blasted, punched, and kicked troopers over and over again. 

But when he was distracted, that clone assassin jumped him. They were both knocked to the floor. Crosshair fought for his life, but the assassin was strong and had him pinned down. 

“Crosshair!” He heard Hunter’s voice and managed to catch his brother’s eye. Hunter picked up the electric javelin that one of the troopers had been wielding and nodded to Crosshair. They immediately understood each other.

Crosshair managed to curl his legs in and kicked the assassin as hard as he could directly in the chest. The assassin skidded backwards, slamming into one of the pillars, and Hunter hurled the spear. It flew through the air and right through the assassin’s heart, spearing him to the pillar.

Hunter offered Crosshair a hand and pulled him back to his feet. Crosshair was breathing heavily and leaned on his brother for support as his legs were still weak. The rage finally simmered out of his system and left him feeling empty and exhausted. His eyes lingered on the dead assassin for a moment.

Despite it all, Crosshair felt this strange kinship with the mysterious clone assassin. They were both forced into roles that they didn’t want, that they didn’t choose. That choice was stripped from them. And now, this clone, this brother, was killed fighting for another corrupt organization, without a single say in the matter.

Crosshair took a quick step towards the assassin, skewered to the pole with a javelin like some kind of animal. Clones deserved better than this, better than being experiments like he was. Crosshair reached up to the assassin’s helmet.

“Be free.” He murmured in a quiet voice, so only they’d hear him.

Then, he removed the helmet.

Nothing could have prepared him for the shock and horror that filled his veins. It was so strong it almost knocked him off his feet. Crosshair’s eyes widened so much it felt like they might pop right out of their sockets. His mouth fell agape. He took a step back that almost made his knees give out on him. His mind reeled.

This had to be some kind of sick joke.

Tech.

Why did this bastard have his brother’s face? He couldn’t be. Tech had died on Eriadu, right? That’s what Omega had told him, that’s what she said had happened. Plan 99. But, it was Hemlock who’d given them his goggles. If Hemlock found Tech…

Oh god, no…

Crosshair wanted to throw up. His hands trembled without ceasing. He took a few unsteady steps backwards, running right into Hunter. He also was stood frozen in complete shock and horror. His eyes trailed to his own hand, then back to Tech.

Hunter couldn’t believe what he’d done. He knew that time was short, he had to get to Omega, but he couldn’t bring his feet to move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the body of his dead brother. His heart felt like it had been ripped straight out of his chest.

Hunter killed his little brother.

He’d done it for a second time. He couldn’t save Tech, again. The sight of his little brother with such a lifeless and cold expression on his once soft face made his chest tighten. His warm brown eyes, once full of such intelligence and curiosity for the universe, were without color or life. Hemlock had done this. He’d turned Hunter’s brother into some mindless killing machine who’d follow orders without question or remorse.

Hunter felt bile rising in his throat at the realization. The realization of what his brother had become. Tech wasn’t allowed to rest in peace. His final action should have been his sacrifice, his selfless choice to save the rest of them. But that choice had been stripped of him.

By Hemlock.

Hunter knew he didn’t have time for a proper goodbye. They’d come back for Tech, give him the proper burial on Pabu that he deserved. They’d finally let him rest, finally let him stop fighting.

But, right now, they had to save Omega. Hemlock couldn’t be allowed to do this again. Not to one of Hunter’s family. He’d die before he’d let it happen. Hunter approached Tech’s body and gently pressed his forehead to his brother’s. Hunter’s eyes gently closed, a single tear escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheek.

Tech’s skin was cold and clammy, but Hunter didn’t care. He remembered the time when his brother was full of light and life. When he’d eagerly explain a new concept that they’d discovered, or gush to Hunter about a new project. When they’d used to do this after a long fight.

Because that was the Tech that deserved to be remembered. And he would. As long as Hunter lived, as long as any of them lived, Tech would never truly die. He’d live on in their memories and in their hearts.

[dickarchivist]

Hello!

I am obsessed with your OC Clone squad. Thanks for sharing them with us!

You said you’re taking requests so I’m sliding in with one 👀

I’m taking from the same delicious NSFW prompt list @dystopicjumpsuit used!

The prompt is “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” with Ghost. He seems so sweet and deeply caring. With his cybernetic eyes perhaps eye contact is important to him/his partner???

Do with this as you please, no pressure! 💕

Thanks @starrylothcat for the fic request!! I'm so excited to deliver, and for my sweet boy Ghost too 😭

I Will Know You Forever, Even In Darkness

Clone OC Ghost × fem!Reader (civilian mechanic) (new relationship)

Word count: 2860

🔞Minors DNI🔞

Prompt: “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.”

Summary: After a scare on a mission, your new sweetheart's in recovery at the hospital. When you're finally allowed in to see him, you make up for lost time.

Contents and Warnings: fluff and smut the ultimate combo, bit of angst at the beginning, PiV sex, mentions of eye trauma (nothing graphic), yearning good lord the yearning this man does for you. Happy ending, pinky promise.

Author Notes: This fic takes place directly after the mission that causes Ghost to lose his eyes and get his prosthetics. No actual eye trauma is described in detail, it's only stated that he lost them from acid splash, and he's given cybernetics as a replacement.

Small cameo of others in Grave Squad, the jedi of the 404th, and even smaller cameo/mention of two other sw OCs I've made over the years.

Sorry this one's so long, but also not sorry at all because I think it's really good.

When The Crypt lands in the hanger, you're absolutely thrilled. Ghost and his brothers were home at last. You set down your tools and twll your assistant you'd be back in a second, to which they roll their eyes with a smile, "Boyfriend's back huh?"

"Shush," you giggle, and start toward the ship with glee. But the closer you gwt, the more your smile fades

Wraith is out first, Specter and Banshee carrying a stretcher after him, "Careful! He's fragile, don't jostle him, I just got his vitals stable again!"

Guilt bubbles in your stomach as you hope and hope that the clone on the stretch was Phantom. You wouldn't wish for any of them to be hurt, but please. Please, anyone but--

"Ghost's gonna be fine," Phantom stretcha as he gets out of the ship, play wrestling with Wraith in a bad attempt to lighten the worried media's mood, "You saved his face, I'm sure he'll thank you for that when he wakes up."

"If he wakes up, Tommy!" Wraith spits at his brother, poking his finger hard into his chest, "Like I said, he's fragile, we can't be too cautious! I don't know the extent, he could die for all-"

"Wraith." Specter's voice cuts like a knife. He had noticed you when you'd arrived, and knew all the talk wasn't helping your anxiety.

"He's... he's not going to die, right?" There's a tremble in your voice, your hands are gripping the front of your jump suit so tight its almost hard to breathe, "He can't, he's- please..."

Phantom pushes his brothers along, the stretcher jostling just enough that Ghost's arm falls limp from it, and the cry that comes from you is mournful enough to make the hanger fall silent.

Wraith tries to comfort you, but his anxious yammering only proves to make things worse. Phantom catches your shoulders, then pulls you into a hug, "Hey, hey Mesh'la, it's fine. It's fine, Cap's been in worse spots than this. His name is Ghost, not Dead Guy, right? Afterlife can't get him, he's stuck here with us. Take a breath, okay, it'll be fine. He'll be fine."

His brothers keep you up to date while you aren't allowed in to see Ghost. He's lost both his eyes. They tell you he was heroic, only thinking about the lives of the people he was protecting during the battle. Wraith later confides in you that he believes it was his fault, that if he hadn't forgotten his helmet, Ghost wouldn't have given him his. Ghost's eyes wouldn't have been lost. You want to be angry, but you know them too well at this point.

"Rai, you didn't take his helmet off him. You didn't throw the acid. You didn't do anything malicious... Specter said you kept him alive, it was your quick actions that saved him. Stop calling yourself Ghost's attacker, he'd hate to hear that..."

Wraith nods, but doesn't say anything else, just goes back to Ghost's hospital room to do his best in helping his brother. You get the feeling that Wraith isn't going to belive it's not his fault until Ghost tells him that himself.

On the fifth day, you hear a voice you don't recognize.

"I don't care, no one is going to replace Captain Ghost." There's a few garbled words, then the voice came back, more forceful, "Ghost, not CT-1313." There's another pause before you hear a snarl, "HIS NAME IS GHOST!"

There's hushed murmers, then the voice speaks again, "Good, now that we're clear that this is a man and not a number: you'll give him new eyes. Yes, I do mean that. I do not care what it costs you, he's an irreplaceable asset to the 404th, and I will not have him decommissioned when the best course of action is to replace what he's lost."

You don't realize how close you've gotten to the door until it a little girl grabs your hand, "It's not polite to easedrop... it's fun to do though."

You'd seen her once before, Ghost called her "Vod'ika", and you aren't sure if that's her name or not. She's got her ear pressed to the door, and she giggles, "Oooh, Master Dax is angry, he's using his little voice."

"Master-" when the door opens, a yellow zebrak in jedi robes stands before you. His bright blue eyes catch you, then the little girl behind you.

His glare turns to a funny face immediately. Hands beside his head flaired out, tongue sticking out, eyes crossed. It makes you laugh for the first time in days. "Good!" The zebrak booms, holding your shoulders, "We like happy. Happy means hope, and what's wrong with a little hope right? You must be this "Cyare" Ghostie has been muttering about in his sleep, I know all his brothers, and none of them have that moniker, Athena there is "Cyar'ika", so Cyare must be you!"

You know that word, you heard it often when you were a mandalorian foundling as a child. Beloved. Your face blooms with blush, and you look down at the kid behind you, then back to the man, "uh... y-yeah, I guess so."

"Good, good good good, excellent, good!" He puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you away from the door you'd been camped in front of since Ghost was admitted, "Listen Cyare, Ghost's gonna be fine, Wraith and another clone, I don't know if you know him, Repeat, they'll be preforming Ghost's surgery. Why you ask? Because I don't trust those smug asses with my boys!" His laugh booms again, and you can't help your giggle either, "Now, Re is from my previous Padawan, now a master, so proud. Re is from Annika's battalion, the 418th, let me tell you..."

Master Dax talks your ear off for hours. But it takes your mind off of the situation, and before you know it, Specter is collecting you from the enthusiastic jedi, "Buir, shut it. C'mon, Ghost's up, he wants to see you."

You wave to Dax and Athena, thanking them for spending the day with you. As you walk the now familiar path to Ghost's room, you find that your pace moves quicker the closer you get. Specter chuckles at your side, "Just run, we told the staff to let you in."

"Thanks," you manage before sprinting away. You're running so fast the doors don't part for you at one point and you slam directly into them, eliciting uproarious laughter from a few of the clones lucky enough to see the disaster. It takes a lot of patience to slow down enough for the automatic doors, but eventually you're where you need to be.

Wraith is waiting inside Ghost's room for you. He's fidgeting more than normal, and when he sees you, his speech goes into over drive, "Okay keep in mind I'm not perfect I did my best and he's my brother so of course I did my very very best for him and Repeat was a huge help please don't be mad at-"

"Wraith," Ghost's voice sends your heartbeat further into overdrive, "Shut up before she thinks you killed me." There's humor... stars you're so happy to hear that light chuckle, "C'mere Cyare, I want the first thing I see to be you."

Before you go to his side, you stop at Wraith, kissing his cheek lightly, "Thanks for brining him back to me..."

"Y-yep." As Wraith stumbles out of the room holding his cheek, you cross to Ghost.

Your hand finds his, and immediately his head turns to you with a smile, "There she is, my heart. Rai said the bandages could come off a few hours after surgery. Told him I wanted you to be there for it, hope that's alright."

You don't say anything. You climb into the bed with him, your arms wrapping around him, tangling your legs together as best you can with the blanket over him. Ghost kisses the top of your head as you settle in, rubbing your back, "I'm alright..."

"I know."

"If I'm not handsome anymore, you can always date Phantom, he hits on you enough to where I think he might be serious." He chuckles, but when you don't, he stops. Ghost's hand finds your cheek, and brings you to look at him, even though he can't see you yet, "Hey. I'm not going anywhere, alright? I'm alive, and I want to see you... please Cyare, let me see you."

You move on him, straddling his hips, thankful for his eyes being the only injury this time. You hold his face gently, and he steals a kiss to your palm, making you blush. "Ghost..?"

"Hm?"

"It's not just your looks, you know that, right? It's you. Even if you're still blind, or your face is weird, I'd still want to be with you... Phantom's gross anyway, not made of boyfriend material like you." When he laughs this time, so do you. Hope, you think, a little hope is good.

Careful, so much so you're holding your breath, you begin to take off Ghost's bandages. His eyes are closed underneath, and you cover your mouth for a moment. It's like a mask of scars tissue, still gently pink from the acid. When he flutters his eyes open, white irises meet yours, and you can help but cry. Tears stream down your face, and Ghost looks almost dejected before you croak, "You're okay..."

Ghost lets out a breath of relief, his new eyes focusing on you, "I was hoping to see you smile, but I'll take happy tears too. They are happy, right?"

"Yes!" You burst, bouncing in his lap a little with the laugh, reaching for him again as you go to kiss him.

Ghost gives an appreciative "mmm~" as your lips find his. He puts his hands on your hips, one leaving its post rather quickly and rubbing across the small of your back and side. He's surprised when you deepen the kiss, and you feel his length move under you as your tongue slides over his. He chuckles when you part, and looks up at you with new eyes, "Careful there Cyare, I'm getting excited."

"Is... is that a bad thing?" You bite your bottom lip a little and deliberately roll your hips on him this time, "I... I missed you, and these last few days, I couldn't stop thinking about... a-about how I don't want to be without you."

Ghost throbs against you, but you get the feeling it wasn't because of your movements on him, rather your words. You keep rolling your hips on him, wanting to feel him yourself, "For a moment I thought you were gone, and I realized I didn't get to tell you how I feel-"

"Stop," he holds you still, his hands finding yours, "Don't say it. N-not unless you mean it, got that? Don't say it because you feel like you have to."

You recognize the look of fear in his eyes, of rejection, pain from a love once spurned. You're not each others firsts, but you do know one thing, you want him to be your last firsts. You put your hands on Ghost's and guide them to your heart. It beats fast against his palms, much as his does on yours when you reach out to him. You mirror each other's moves, one hand each going to hold your cheeks. His thumb rubs your cheekbone, eyes locked with yours, "Cyare..."

"Kar'taylir darasuum." The mandalorians who found you, became your family, they had taught you this phrase when you left them. With how Ghost's eyes soften at you, you know he understands them too. You repeat them to him all the same, beginning to rock on him again, "I will know you forever, Ghost."

Ghost repeats them back to you, his hand guiding your face to his for another kiss. It's slow and lingering, when you pull back, he's smiling so warmly, lips gently parted with soft breath, "I will know you forever, even in darkness."

Ghost's eyes roam down between you, and blush finally shows on his face, "Cyare, if we don't do something about these clothes, I might throw a fit."

You're both giggling as you fumble with your clothes. Soft stolen kisses, small gasps of appreciation, little stories of "What's this scar from?" And kissed freckles. When you're standing beside Ghost's hospital bed fully bare to him, he looks at you with so much adoration. His hand reaches for yours, and you're guided back to his lap. He's bigger than you thought, his length hard in your hand. "Wow..."

"I could say the same," Ghost chuckles and puts his hands on your hips, eyes on your slick folds before slowly working up to your eyes again, "Never seen such a beautiful body before."

You bite your lip as you move against him, running his length through your folds to slick him. The groan he makes joins yours as you toy his tip against your clit. Ghost smiles up at you, hands holding your breasts, circling your nipples with his thumbs, "Stars you feel great already... Cyare, mmm~"

Your eyes flutter closed as you take him into your waiting walls, "Ghost..."

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby," when he speaks, it's so soft, so breathy and light, you're not sure if you heard it or thought it. You look down at him, and he already looks love drunk. Eyes half lidded, his hands move down to your hips again and pull you further onto him. You moan, bracing on his chest, and he groans with delight, "That's right baby, eyes on me... I want to see you."

"Ghost... kriff, s-so full," your eyes stay on his as you start to move on his lap, taking him fully each time you lower back down. You start slow, easing yourself through the burn of the initial stretch, but soon you're at an even pace. The sticky wet sound of his length moving in and out of you fills the room with your tandem breathing.

His hands hold you tight, hips bucking up into you as you bounce on his length. His eyes flicker between yours, your breasts bouncing, and the way he glides in and out of you with such easy. You whine for him, hands balling in his chest hair, clenching around his length, "Feels so good, Ghost, s-stars." When his fingers slide to your clit, you cry out for him with an arch of your back, "Ghost! Ah!"

"D-dont look away," his other hand holds your face, thumb running over your bottom lip before you take it in your mouth and suck. Ghost's eyes widen a little, his hips stuttering before the pace quickens, "Oh kriff..."

You release his thumb and lock eyes with him again, "I'm close, do-don't stop, don't stop, Ghost, oh-" a whine releases from your lips as he rubs your clit faster, eyelashes flutter but you keep your eyes open, closer and closer to the edge, "Ghost, oh, oh baby, oh Ghost!"

"S-stay with me baby, come on, s-so close, so--" he grunts, his hips snap up into your walls in an intense build of pressure before he sits up off the bed with a cry of your name, spending himself inside you without restraint.

His wild bucks and intense attention to your clit were enough to get you to the edge, but feeling him fill you with his spend, it sends you over into ecstasy. You collect his lips in a kiss as you orgasm, body clenching around his length and shuttering with aftershocks of pleasure. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you come down, and as Ghost holds you close, kissing your neck and shoulder, you feel so warm and safe.

Small drops of warmth hit your shoulder, and for a moment concern holds your body still. Was he hurt? You pull away to see Ghost's face, and to your surprise, tears are filling his new eyes, falling down his cheeks. You hold his face gently, wiping the tears from his unmarked skin, Careful of the sensitive scarring, "Ghost... what's wrong baby?"

"Nothing," he laughs a soft cry, kissing your lips just once, "I'm... overwhelmed. Spent the last month thinking of this, the last week needing to see you, just one more time, and..." He chuckles, feeling silly, kissing you again, "I can't believe this is real."

Your heart flutters, how is he this sweet? You press a delicate kiss to his forehead as you ease the both of you down. You nestle under his chin, still full of him, not willing to let that feeling end yet, "It's real, I promise."

After a few minutes of silence, Ghost rubbing your back in soothing circles, you're nearly asleep when you hear him again, "Did you mean it...?"

"Hm...?"

"You love me?"

You press a sleepy kiss to his jaw, "I love you, Ghost."

His heart picks up, you can feel it against your own, and it has you smiling. Ghost gives you a little squeeze, going back to rubbing your warm skin, "I love you too, Cyare."

[streakyglasses]

Girl, I feel like every one of those injury dialogue prompts has already been written by you 😂 but I’ll throw #23 at you!

“You dumbass. Don’t do that. Ever again.”

I picture Street doing something idiotically heroic and Chris is maaad when she shows up to pick him up from the hospital. Obviously all out of love, but he will probably always be the Street she met five years prior.

Hello love!!

In one way or another, probably 🤣 BUT I’m nothing if not a h/c lover. This was a lot of fun, so thank you! (Will be posted on ao3/ffn later tn!)

prompt from @promptsbytaurie “injury” prompts!

also features Tan & Street friendship! minor description of a car accident, and hospitalization. set post S5, but before street goes to Long Beach full time. & mentions of Chris’s mom 🌝

feel free to send any other you’d like my way! 🩵

Patrol day. 

Never an easy day, but considering their usual level of disaster, Street normally doesn’t mind a few hours of pulling cats out of trees and building community connections. He’s paired with Tan, and left sulking in the passenger seat after losing the coin toss. 

“Just try not to lose your radio this time around.” Street smirks, earning a smack on the arm. 

“It was six years ago. But hey! Maybe you can teach me something you picked up during all your extra patrol time.”

“Oh,” he plays wounded, “below the belt.” 

“Whatever, Man,” Tan smiles back and turns over the engine. “West Side, here we come.” 

They’re almost to their first neighborhood, the sun shining and the streets blessedly quiet, when a blue sedan runs a stop sign and cuts them off. Sharing a look, Tan hits the lights and sirens, but it does nothing to stop the driver or their swerving. 

“There’s too much traffic to cut them off here. We can grab ‘em at the next light.” Street says. Tan agrees, spending up to keep track of the vehicle as Street takes down all the info he can see about the car. 

But the vehicle swerves right instead of stopping. 

“Fuck,” Tan murmurs. 

“Fuck!” Street’s eyes widen and then darken at the playground at the end of the street. 

Children and their caretakers laughing and playing. Too many bright colors to count and endless strollers and benches filled with people in imminent danger with nowhere to go. His blood boils, eyes darting away from the mulch and plastic just long enough to see a college kid getting off his motorcycle. 

“Stop the car!” He shouts, and he’d wince if it were any other situation. Tan slams on the brakes without question as Street jumps out before the wheels even stop turning.

“Hey!” He waves at the college kid, not bothering to flash his badge. “LAPD; I need your bike.”

It’s not a question. He’s already jamming the helmet on his head and snatching the keys despite the protest.

The bike revs to life right away. Smoke blows from the exhaust and Street makes light work darting onto the sidewalk to catch up to the car. White knuckling the clutch, he demands the wheels turn faster. He can barely hear it over the engine, but a quick glance shows him parents and babysitters starting to look towards the road, concerned, and he breaks left before he can think anything better.

He thinks he also hears Tan screaming his name, but pain overtakes him too soon to make heads or tails of it. 

Cells explode as the car rams into the motorcycle and sends him flying. They die as his body slides against the road like a ragdoll before coming to a lifeless halt. But the car doesn’t hit him a second time, and in the haze of agony and tears he hears doors slam and boots on the ground and something like jangling metal. It’s enough to make the fire burning him up worth it. 

“Street!” A voice calls, followed by a hand on his shoulder. Gently, they lift the visor of the helmet to see cloudy eyes and wide pupils, but a self-satisfied smirk that Tan wants nothing more than to knock off his face. 

“What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been killed. Jesus, can you even move? Do not try to!” 

“Tan,” he coughs harshly, the slight jolt of his body pushing more gravel into his raw back. It’s the first time he’s taken notice of how there’s nothing between his skin and the blacktop, and how he can’t move his shoulder at all lest an excruciating wave white-out his vision. Still, he tries. “Tan, he would’ve killed them. ‘M gonna—gonna be fine.” 

Tan nods, frantically searching for anything he can do to ease some of Street’s pain but coming up short apart from yelling at the crowd to stay clear for the oncoming ambulance. He can already hear the sirens, and he debates if the paramedics will be able to revive Street if he kills him first. Street’s raspy voice brings him back, fingers curling for something to hold onto, so Tan fills the gaps with his own hand. 

“P—promise me some—something,” Street groans in pain, struggling out a high-pitched breath as Tan promises. 

“What?” 

“Don’t t—tell Chris.” 

With that, the ambulance arrives, as do Hondo and Luca, and Tan wonders if the doctors at the hospital will be able to save him from whatever Chris might do if someone doesn’t call her.  —————————————————————-

She storms into the hospital waiting room like a hurricane and beelines for the group of men she could strangle, she’s so angry. Her heart hasn’t stopped racing since Tan called her. Told her they were already at the hospital and they had been for an hour. That Street was in an accident. 

“What do you mean an accident?” She demanded through grit teeth, throwing her backpack into her truck and turning the key. That’s as far as she got before her world stopped. 

“He commandeered a motorcycle to stop a drunk driver.”

Air shot from her lungs as every cell seized, no function flowing through her. Tan kept talking, her brain luckily able to catch “conscious” and “alive” and “Shaw Memorial,” but her hands ended the call without another word as tears flooded her eyes and panic struck her like a timpani drum. 

The memories came before she could stop them. 

“Christina Alonso? I’m Officer Andrews. I need you to come with me.”

“All dead.” 

“Drunk, probably.”

“Who the hell knows; they’re probably scraping up the highway hamburger now. I feel worse for that guy.” 

“We’re so sorry for your loss.” 

The world comes into focus again the second she hears Luca’s voice, but she doesn’t care to hear whatever he has to say, cutting him off. 

“What the hell happened? When did they last update you—where is Street?” 

And, well, there goes any semblance of remaining calm. The team looks amongst themselves against her sharp eyes. In the end, Tan speaks. 

“He stopped a drunk driver. The last we heard is that they needed to get a CT to assess for internal bleeding, and they started to give him painkillers the second they got his medical history and knew it was safe. I’m sorry, Chris.” 

Part of her wants to bite back that he should be sorry. That six years ago, they all made an unspoken pact to keep Street safe, and she always kept up her end of the deal. But then reality rushes back to her, and she falls heavy into an uncomfortable gray chair as everything except for terror drains from her body. 

Slow tears roll down her cheeks of their own volition. Someone sits on either side of her offering reassurances and soft, soothing hands on her back. None of it matters. They fade away as her mind replays every second of her and Street knowing each other from the moment they met to kissing goodbye that morning. 

“I can’t lose him.” She whispers, raw. Deacon pulls her in, she only knows from the cool metal of his cross necklace pressing lightly into her forehead, but it’s a comforting sensation. 

“You won’t,” he promises with a kiss to her head. “You won’t.” 

They offer to get her snacks and water as the clock ticks by, but she stays like a statue against Deacon’s shoulder until a new voice glides over all the other chatter in the cavernous room and her head. 

“For Jim Street?” 

Chris shoots up like a rocket, abandoning her backpack and the group she left it with. She rubs her arms and feels the knot in her stomach tighten to an unbearable pressure. 

“Yeah—yes.” She chokes out. “How is he?” 

The doctor smiles, but she won’t, can’t let herself believe anything until she sees him with her own eyes.

Still, the relief hits immediately when she hears it.

“Office Street will be okay.”

Her eyes widen, and the doctor continues, beginning to walk in the direction of his room.

“His left shoulder was dislocated, but we set it. He also has severe road rash on his back and left arm, and bruising on his ribs. All things considered, he’s extremely lucky. Whatever kind of helmet he was wearing protected his head extremely well. We’re going to keep him for a day or two to monitor pain and make sure no infection develops in the skin. A few weeks of rest and a few of rehab, and he should be back to one hundred percent.” 

“Great,” Chris says, coughing at her dry throat. “That’s great news. Can I see him?” 

“Of course. He should be awake, although he may be groggy. Visiting hours end at nine.” 

The doctor leaves her with a smile, and Chris turns to see the team a few steps behind her but obviously giving her privacy to go in first. She doesn’t wait another second. 

Street is sitting in a hospital bed, propped up against pillows. His gown is folded down to his waist, chest and arms exposed and covered in thick white bandages. There’s a plastic bag in the corner with what remains of his uniform, and a low, constant beeping from his heart monitor. A small tube under his nose helps get him oxygen; she sees how each deep breath makes him wince. 

He looks up at the sound of her footsteps. When he sees her, he smiles. 

Smiles. All dimples and stars in his eyes. All the anger that left her before comes back with a vengeance. She has the wherewithal to keep her voice down, but it’s no less intense.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” She bites, ripping a chair across the floor to sit right next to the bed, her knees hitting the plastic edge. 

“Tan didn’t keep his promise,” he mumbles. Confusion flickers across her face, but she’s not stopping the train now. Not until he tells her what was possibly worth leaving her for. 

“Do you have any idea—you could have been killed! There is absolutely no reason to do something so, so fucking stupid.”

The tears come again, washing over her too fast and too heavy to stop. They thicken her voice and she takes his right hand in a vice grip, clamoring to feel the life in his veins. 

“What happened to rule number one, huh? Never being in a hurry to die?! I thought we were past the impulsive recklessness. Did you even consider—“

“It was kids, Chris.” Street interrupts her, but he squeezes her hand back with every ounce of strength he can muster. “We had to move fast, and that was the only option I saw. I’m sorry I scared you. I love you.”

There it is. The endearing, self-sacrificial, infuriating Jim Street that she fell in love with. It’s funny, layers and layers below how utterly terrifying it is, how easily he calms her down. Puts everything into a perspective that makes her believe he really will be okay, even if it takes time. That his recklessness was only ever for the greater good. Her gaze drops to her knees in shame and exhaustion and every other too-strong emotion that’s coursing through her.

It makes her hate even more that she isn’t there to protect him anymore. 

“You dumbass.” She whispers. One last failing attempt to get the last word. “Don’t do that. Ever again.” 

He pulses her hand to bring her back to him. He’s still smiling. 

“Okay,” he whispers back, even though they know, if he felt it necessary, he would. He will. He adds for good measure, “It’s Tan’s turn anyway.” 

“Okay,” Chris accepts. Her body starts to relax enough to give him a small smile, and she carefully leans over him to brush a hand through his hair and kiss him. It pains her not to hug him, but she refuses to let him push himself. Sitting back in the chair, his hand still in both of hers, she kisses his bruised knuckles. Her lips are soft against his skin, breath warm when she speaks. 

“Are you okay? Is—is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?” 

“Just you.” 

“Yeah, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” 

“Mm, I’m good with that.” 

They fall into a silence that only gives Chris’s mind the opportunity to run wild with all the horrific what-ifs that have been playing since she answered the phone. Taking notice of her thousand yard stare and the increasing tremor in her hand, he says her name, wincing when she starts. 

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, giving her a look he knows she can’t lie to. Her head shake answers before her mouth, the words hard to find. 

“No. I was so scared. When Tan called me…” Sighing, she looks him up and down and gives into him. “This all reminded me of my mom. We can talk about it later, when you’re feeling better. But I will be, now that I know you will be.”

“We will be.” He swears, and she believes him. 

Brown eyes lock onto green until everything that needs to be understood has been, and then steals another kiss. He smiles and she sees the exhaustion mounting in his eyes. Swallowing, she sets his hand back on the bed and traces a tender hand down his good arm. 

“I know you need rest. Let me get the team so they can see you’re alright. I’m staying until they kick me out.”

Nodding, Street yawns, heart fluttering when he watches her walk. Right before she opens it, she turns back to him, a questioning look on her face. 

“What did you make Tan promise?”

He gets that bemused smirk she never likes, usually because it means antics, but his stomach flips at the reaction he knows he’s going to incur. He gets it out in one go. 

“Not to call you.” 

It fills her with an entirely new rage, and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Unbelievable.” She mutters, opening the door for the team to enter and resuming her position in the chair, taking his hand. “We’re talking about that, too, the second you’re better.” 

“Looking forward to it.” He smirks, words starting to slur as the team piles in. “Talking. Not talking. Two weeks with you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she placates, but gets a soft smile of her own. “Me, too.” 

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Jann Mardeborough x čtenář pt. 4

Pt.1,Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5,Pt.6

Everyone was saying that. That Jann will be a failure and that he can't win. However, I didn't believe it until I saw how it looks in real professional racing. It was crazy, I've never been more worried about Jann. The realization that he could collapse at any time and lose his life in the process scared me. Fortunately, none of that happened so far and Jann was getting to the front of the race. I was watching everything with bated breath when suddenly a gilded car pulled up. Earlier, Jack revealed to me that Nicholas Capa was driving that car, and from the context of what Jack told me, he wasn't a very good person. Suddenly, Capa's car started to run into Jann's, trying to push him off the track. Although Jann tried to resist the pressure, in the end the second car pushed him off the track. Fortunately, Jann recovered almost immediately but placed in one of the last places. For me, it was a success that Jann finished the race in good health. When Jann's car got back to the pit, Jack and I opened the door and started encouraging Jann.,, Jann, don't be sad, the big success is that you managed to reach the finish line and you didn't even finish last, you did amazing" I said when I caressed his cheek, but Jann gave me a sad smile and was about to leave for the trailers, but a certain voice stopped him. "Hey pretty girl, why waste your time on someone who doesn't even need it, wouldn't you rather be keeping company with a real competitor." I knew very well whose voice it belonged to even before I turned around. He was that cocky racer, leaning on his shiny car, with the most arrogant smile I've ever seen. He acted like the most sensible thing for me to do would be to push Jann away and jump into his arms. I wanted to start cursing him for what he thinks about himself and I felt Jann clench his hands, but before we could somehow start an argument, Jack intervened. "Leave her alone and you two come." Capa kept yelling at us but for the sake of all of us we ignored it. For the rest of the day I tried to encourage Janna and finally I succeeded.

The next few races were more or less the same. At Jack's request, I suggested Jann's training to make him as strong as possible and I also helped with motivation. For each lap completed, Jann received kisses and a bit of a cuddles so he charged into the next round with even more determination. Jack just always shook his head and secretly laughed at us. Unfortunately, it also happened that one of the journalists took a photo of us during one of the kisses and before we knew it we were on the cover of almost every tabloid magazine. As if the situation wasn't bad enough, a certain blond racer found out about it, and his innuendo became more personal and sexual. I was close to punching him a few times, but Jack and Danny mostly stopped me.

Unfortunately, Jann has not been able to get a license yet, and today was the last race when he could get it.

"So are you ready?" I asked Jann when he was about to get into the car. Jann, fully focused, just nodded and gave me a kiss on the cheek. As soon as he pulled away, he put on his helmet and jumped into the car.

The race was going well, Jann made his way to the front until he ran into Capa and Schulin. He tried to pass between them but they both started to pick him up, I heard his scared voice from Jack's earpiece but he finally came up with the solution that he slowed down and then passed them both. I was so happy that she squealed and jumped. But my joy quickly passed when Capa rapidly increased his speed.

I only had time to think about what a fool he is to try such a speed. When I saw on the screen how he collided with the car that was in front of Jann. The cars overturned several times and were almost completely destroyed. I heard Jann's alarming voice, from what I understood, one of the tires broke the windshield. He was instructed by Jack to go to the depot to refuel. When he arrived everyone rushed to him and checked the car.,, Jann you are ok, nothing happened to you." I shouted over all the noise. Jann gave me a thumbs up and I breathed a sigh of relief. The accident was still showing on the screen and finally it was seeing the racers get out of the cars in good health. Capa was seen to push the medic away in anger and throw his helmet on the ground. How selfish can this man be, he could have just killed someone and instead he throws a tantrum like a child.

Meanwhile, Jann was back on track and doing very well. Now all he had to do was defend his coveted fourth place. Fortunately, he succeeded and thanks to this he obtained a license, which ensured his continued support. Jack and I rejoiced and hugged each other. When Jann finally arrived at the depot, he immediately started after Capa. They shouted at each other, luckily Jack and I, pulled Jann away.,, Just enjoy your victory and that sexy little thing while you can." Capa shouted. And just at that moment I had enough. I quickly turned and walked over to him. The man just laughs and he whistles before a slap lands on his face.,, Don't ever talk about me and Jann again and I would suggest you learn to treat people well you idiot." I said clearly and followed Jann and Jack.

If you have any idea about this or any other stor y I am opend to anything.

Take care of yourself and I love you.

[toastybuggy]

There He Goes

ITS ME IM BACK MWAHAHAHAHAHA

heres a lil short one from after i finished my homework

There he goes, as he wades into the Living Waters, Bo-Katan watching him intently, almost as if she’s watching to ensure he does it correctly. I look down at Grogu and smile; there goes his dad, becoming Mandalorian again. He coos and babbles in his little language before returning to the Mandalorian. I look up with him, watching the back of his beskar helmet as he recites his Creed. I smile momentarily as I take in what he’s doing, but then the realization hits me: I may never see his face again. I had seen it once when he took his helmet off to say goodbye to Grogu. A feeling bubbles up in my chest that I can’t put a name on, but I stifle it.

As he approaches the end of his Creed, the shiny beskar armor I’ve grown to find comfort in disappears underneath the waters. There he goes, deep into the cavern. A sharp yelp leaves my lips in fear. I watch as Bo-Katan jumps in after him, her being the only one equipped enough to go after him. Grogu lets out a pained squeal, the concern evident on his face. I run towards the water’s edge, careful not to step in, and attempt to look for him. I begin to shake as a million possibilities fill my head. Is he unconscious? Is he okay? Is this part of the atonement? All I can do is look on in fear, trembling as I do so. 

I then begin to think, why am I reacting this way? We had only worked together, nothing more. There was no way I could be feeling that for him. I start to dwell on the memories of the past, our first bounty, finding Grogu, saving Grogu, starting over. I go from having a few tears on my cheeks to full-on sobbing. I can’t lose him; there’s no way. He had saved me countless times, mentally and physically. He had become my rock, and now there was no denying it: I wanted to be his. 

And then, there he goes. Flying out of the water, being pulled by Bo-Katan. I rush to his side as he hits the ground, starting to look for injuries. He coughs up water and sits up shakily. His cold, covered gaze meets mine, and I try to look solemn. 

“I knew you’d be fine, didn’t doubt it for a second.”

Almost as if on cue, Grogu sighs and looks at me. He knows, and I do, too.

[avaford2009]

Sneak Peek of A Bug's Life OC (Rewrite) - Duchess Alicia and Flik heads to Ant Island

EXT. THE WOODS - NIGHT

After running through the woods for several hours, the trio stop at a bridge over a dry riverbed in front of a sign shaped like Princess Atta pointing to the right. The sign reads “TO ANT ISLAND. Where all your dreams and wishes will come true and work all day and all night.”

ALICIA

We’re almost at Ant Island.

FLIK

Star, we’ll need to be very discreet.

STAR

Discreet? Got it. Sounds like another plan. I’m getting pretty good at this planning stuff.

ALICIA

Um, you know what might help that plan? If you weren’t so bright?

STAR

Ohh, thank you. Oh wait, you meant—

ALICIA

Shiny, glowing, way too much light. Tone it down, will ya?

STAR

Oh, sure.

Star concentrates and the light from his body slowly fades until he looks like a regular white horse.

STAR

Better?

FLIK

Much better, thank you.

Before they could cross the bridge, they are stopped by a hooded figure riding a black horse. Star tries to pretend to be a normal horse by neighing.

STAR

Neiigghh.

The black horse neighs back and much more aggressively. The hooded figure stops in front of them and reveals herself to be Zing.

ZING

I knew you’d pass through here eventually.

FLIK

Zing?

Grasshoppers on horseback appear from behind the trees to surround Alicia and Flik on both sides.

ALICIA

(WHISPER) Star, remember the thing I just told you not to do? I’m going to need you to do it. Now.

Star becomes so bright that everyone around them has to recover from the sudden flash, giving the heroes enough time to jump from the bridge and run down the riverbed. Zing quickly recovers and orders the guards to chase after them.

ZING

Don’t let them get away!

Star jumps out of the dry riverbed and into the forest.

STAR

W-h-hoa! Look at me go! I had no idea horses could move this fast! I mean their eyesight is trippy but…

Star moves his eyes from the side of his head to the front.

STAR

Ah yeah, that’s better. I wonder if I could go even faster!

Star spontaneously grows four more legs, making him faster but also wobblier. Alicia’s pleas to be more careful go completely ignored as Star revels in his newfound burst of speed.

STAR

Why would humans ever walk on two legs? This is so much easie–

Star trips and falls and Alicia and Flik tumble over him.

FLIK

Ah! Get up! Run!

Alicia and Flik run for their lives as grasshoppers catch up with them. Star shapeshifts into a squirrel and runs towards Flik, hopping on and riding him.

STAR

Up we go!

Zing and the grasshoppers chase Alicia into a bunch of trees, where she manages to lose them. Zing then appears right in front of Alicia.

ZING

I got her!

Instead of stopping, Alicia slides right under her horse, making it stand up and throw the wasp. Zing glares at a runaway duchess and Alicia glares back as she keeps running.

Star and Flik jump over Alicia and try to reach Alicia. Star turns to look at Zing before changing his head to a horse’s head and neighing at her. Zing growls in frustration.

Star laughs at this before turning to see two of the grasshoppers closing in on Alicia.

STAR

Flik!

Star conjures an acorn shell and wears it like a helmet. Star jumps off of Valentino as the goat turns around and kicks him as hard as he can.

STAR

Get me to Alici-aaAA!

Star soars through the air, taking on a variety of forms, from a rhino to a chicken to a snowman until finally turning into a turtle. Star goes inside his shell and spins around, smacking the guards on their helmets. The guards stop to reorient themselves while Star flies towards Alicia.

STAR

Alicia! I’m coming for you!

Star lands on Alicia facefirst, making them tumble around for a few seconds until Alicia was awkwardly sitting on Star’s shell while Star tried to run away from the guards while still a turtle.

STAR

(GROANING) I really thought these would be faster.

Star turns back into a horse just as Flik catches up with them. Alicia grabs Flik and holds onto him as Star continues running. Alicia lets out a laugh, thinking they’re finally safe, only to see Zing and the guards gaining on them. She turns around to Star’s front only to see that they’re rapidly approaching a cliff.

ALICIA

Careful! The cliff!

STAR

Oh, yes! I love that idea!

FLIK

Wait, no! Bad idea! Terrible idea!

STAR

For real horses, but not for me!

Star leaps off the cliff with Alicia and Flik in tow. The two of them scream while Star yells in exhilaration.

STAR

Ya-hoo-hoo-hooey!

Alicia and Flik continue screaming as Star grows a pair of wings and wraps them around the two, cushioning their impact when Star hits the ocean below.

Once under the water, Alicia and Flik open their eyes to see Star in the middle of transforming. Right now, he is a swirling mist of glowing energy surrounding them. In spite of the tense situation they’re in, Alicia can’t help but feel calm and happy at that moment. She sees Star offer her his hand and she takes it. She looks at his smiling face within the sphere and could just tell that everything is going to be okay.

Back at the cliff, Zing and the grasshoppers stop just in time before falling over the edge. They look over and don’t see even a trace of our heroes.

GUARD #1

They’re gone!

Zing raises a hand to silence him. Still observing where they fell to see if anything would change. Sure enough, a golden glow shines from under the water and a shining dolphin leaps out with Alicia and Flik riding on top of it.

ALICIA

Woah!

Zing looks at the scene baffled while Star swims the heroes to safety. Alicia is smiling and laughing now that they’re safe.

Flik looks down and sees that Star is releasing more stardust into the ocean. He touches the water only for two real dolphins to appear beside and swim alongside them.

At the ocean floor, all kinds of sea life from fish to crabs become covered in stardust and swim up towards them. They also begin jumping out of the water. Alicia laughs and smiles at the whole scene.

She looks down and sees that all of the sea creatures are giving her her own show, taking on the formation of a fish as they swim underneath her.

She then hears a low, loud noise and turns to her right to see a whale appear right beside her. The whale shoots water out of his blowhole, soaking the trio more to their delight. Alicia looks directly into the whale’s eye.

The whale and all the other sea creatures dive back into the ocean. As its tail fully descends, Ant Island becomes visible in the distance. Alicia smiles at the sight, they finally made it!

[ghostly-penumbra]

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King

Chapter Four: Ask for it

[1] [2] [3] [here] [5] [6] [7]

Ao3

Summary: Jason needs help.

Warning: Lenghty talk about death: dying, not dying, nearly almost dying but not quite (lol), Coming Back from death Wrong, wanting to die for real... these boys have a lot of matching baggage to unpack. Ah, yes, and some blood and violence.

- - -

Red Hood stumbled and fell to the floor of the bucolic apartment in the abandoned building that he had taken for a safe-house. His leg was bleeding out where he had spitefully shot himself to get rid of the tracker Batman had tried to stick in him, losing a gun holster in the process.

Fucking controlling, hypocritical asshole.

He growled and pushed himself up with his arms and crawled over to his medical kit, barely mindful of his injury.

Taking off his helmet, Jason breathed in deeply and proceeded to patch himself up.

He shouldn’t have done that, it wasn’t worth the trouble. He could have just picked it and thrown it away, but fuck, had he been mad when he saw Batman trying to be sneaky and find his main base. If Bruce actually cared to know his whereabouts then Batman better kill that fucking clown.

Deep breath. Eight seconds in, four out. Repeat.

Jason had been having some issues in controlling his anger, lately. It used to be a conscious choice he made, tapping into that ever-present rage so he could do what needed to be done. To not think twice as he pulled the trigger, to take all these heads in a duffle bag and present them in a dingy warehouse. To put a knife to his brother’s replacement’s throat. Every time he faced his family Batman, he had to be angry, had to be furious.

Otherwise he would break and cave in.

Deep breath. Eight seconds in. Four out.

The Joker loomed over him, swinging the crowbar over, and over, and over again.

The green waters scalded his lungs, his throat, flowing like hellfire in his veins as it tore his soul from its rightful resting place and back into the pain, disappointment and heartbreak of life.

The Batman jumping from rooftop to rooftop, followed closely by a second, smaller figure with a bo-staff.

Someone far richer smarter and overall better than him, who wasn’t a violent, reckless, ruthless street urchin.

Bruce didn’t miss him, didn’t want him, didn’t need him, and had replaced him.

Jason’s dad didn’t love him.

A pained cry tore from his throat as his leg gave out and Red Hood hit the ground with a thud. Jason panted in ragged breaths and, too slowly, took stock of the situation. He only knew he had been standing because he had fallen, and now his wound was open again, bleeding through the disarranged bandages, his hands hurt and when he looked at them, Jason found the skin of his knuckles open and stained red. He had a few hairs tangled on his fingers and when he touched his head his scalp hurt. He had been pulling at his hair.

“Shit.” He looked around, and his room’s condition almost made him despair. “Fuck.”

The place was pure havoc, as if a hurricane had tried to escape it. His sheets and mattress were torn to pieces, and since his knife was still strapped to his thigh, he could only assume he had done it with his bare hands; the plain table he used as a desk had been broken in the middle, and a pang in his ankle told him how; the contents of his first-aid kit were thrown around, most of them broken and useless; even his books hadn’t been spared, and now that hurt, they were just a handful of cheap copies but they were his books, his only escape from the shit of a life he had chosen and-

Jason grit his teeth and held back a sob. He reached out and picked up the torn pages he had shredded.

“… told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding:

“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”

Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way”

The worst part for him was that he didn’t remember a thing. He had had episodes of blind rage before, he knew the drill, how he felt, how he acted when his reasoning quieted and his anger rose, what he was willing to lose, who he was willing to hurt. He knew all that because he remembered.

Now, though, he couldn’t even remember feeling the pain.

One second he was sitting down and the next he was falling in a heap of himself.

“Deep… breaths…” Eight seconds in. Four out. “Fuck!”

He couldn’t go on like this. If no one could tell him what to do, then he had to keep himself in check. He knew that from the beginning, when he took up the hood.

There were lines no one should cross. If he caused permanent harm to an innocent … who was to say he wouldn’t turn into- into-

"I-" The lump in his throat didn't want to let the words out, but he forced them, forced himself to acknowledge them, to see their truth, "I need help."

He must have blacked out again, just for a second this time, because he was in the same position but now there was a guy picking him up, with Jason's arm thrown over his shoulders and his other hand firmly on his side.

"It's okay, take it easy, man, I'm here, I got ya." He put Jason back on his bed and propped him against the headboard. The stranger placed him on the less torn part of the mattress, and lifted his bleeding leg with a gentle care he hadn't known in a while.

Jason finally got a good look at him, and if his head hadn't been so clear in that moment (in a way it hadn't been in years), he may have confused him for another one of Bruce's kids, maybe even another biological one. Black hair, icy blue eyes, and a fit body that could be hidden under baggy clothes.

"Oof, that looks awful, let me patch you up first." The stranger said, and proceeded to pick up Jason's broken medical aids and go into the small, crappy bathroom where you could touch the door from the toilet. Judging from the sound of running water from the faucet, he was washing the tools and- ah, yeah, he had picked the surviving bottle of alcohol and was sterilizing them too. Good.

Jason closed his eyes for a second only to open them again with a jolt. Something had happened, he knew it, but he couldn't tell what, just that- just that it wasn't bad. But how…?

"This is gonna hurt but you can handle it, right?" Asked the stranger, back at the bedside with what was left of Jason’s medical kit.

He nodded without a word and watched as the stranger sat down at the edge of the bed, uncaring for the mangled mattress and its blood-stains. The stranger finished tearing Jason's ruined pant-leg after undoing the botched bandaging job, cleaning both the dry and fresh blood with a wet wipe to start the aforementioned patching up.

"What are you?" He asked finally, gripping a piece of fitted-sheet in one hand to hold back cries of pain.

"What are you." The stranger shot back, unflinching.

"How did you get here?" He tried, then.

"You called, and I answered." The stranger looked at him steadily. Something was afoot.

Jason thought about it, as the stranger resumed his quite clean and quick bandaging.

"This isn't exactly the help I meant.” Said Jason, raising an eyebrow as he stared him down.

"Yeah, I know, and we'll get there. But first I wanted to take care of this." When Jason was about to object and tell him to just get to the point, the stranger held up a hand and closed his eyes. "Just let me do this. I need to make sure you're okay, please."

"Hm. Alright then." He said before he leaned back on the headboard and crossed his arms, mindful of his knuckles. "But you owe me answers. All of them. For starters, if you won't tell me what you are, or why I feel so at ease with a complete stranger that appeared out of nowhere and who now knows my face, then you could at least tell me your name."

"Oh, but you already know my name." The stranger looked him in the eye for a second and Jason felt a familiar, comforting cold wash over him.

The stranger started checking his other leg, palming it gently, and Jason interrupted him. "That one is okay. Just sore."

The other man nodded and stood up. "I'll get some more clean water for your knuckles."

Jason watched him go, pensive. Already knew his name… was it possible that he-?

But before he could even fully have that thought, he already knew the answer. No. This guy wasn't Death, he knew that in his soul. But if not that, then…

"How do you plan to help me, Danny?"

Danny came back with a new bowl of clean water —actually clean, not cleanish, not clean-for-Gotham, clean— and white bandages that Jason knew hadn't been there before.

"Well, I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but it's not so much of 'what can I do for you' and more of a 'how can I help you help yourself'." He started as he cleaned Jason's blood from his hands. "You won't owe me a thing for this, nothing at all. But there is a price to pay, a sacrifice to make. It's… the truth you don't want to accept." Danny finished with his hands and gently put them back on Jason's lap. He looked him in the eyes once again, sad, supportive, and regretful all at once. "You are dead, Jason Todd."

"Fuck off." Jason said with no heat. His throat suddenly felt very dry. He wished he could be angry at Danny for saying that, or for the calm way he fully climbed on the bed and crossed his legs across from him, but he didn't. "I got better, I came back, I'm alive."

"Yeah." Danny concedes easily. "That doesn't mean you're not dead."

"You can't be both alive and dead."

"Most people can't, but we can."

In a broken whisper, Jason said, "I'm not dead."

"I know you don't want to accept it, because everything it entails is terrifying, but you are dead, and you're hurting yourself by denying it." Any easy-going-ness in his voice had left, replaced by icy resolve.

"The fuck are you talking about? How is being alive bad for me? What, you want me to blow myself up all over again and move on?"

With a great deal of patience, Danny ignored Jason's scathing words but answered him nonetheless.

"No. You've already died, no need to go at it again. What you need to do is accept the part of you that didn't get resurrected, because it exists in you, and you trying to repress it is what causes your anger issues."

Jason looked at him sharply, but Danny didn't take the unspoken cue, and instead waited for Jason to finally, willingly (albeit still reluctantly), broach the topic himself.

"You think that's connected to the Pit Madness, which you somehow know about because…"

"You called for help, with real intent, and I answered," he explained, "I needed to know something so I could start helping you, so I kind of just, knew." He looked more human as he shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, and Jason felt himself relax for real this time, not because of some otherworldly influence, despite the implications of what he had just been told.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Jason sighed and closed his eyes. "Alright, go ahead, tell me how to get rid of the Pit Madness. Stop beating around the bush."

"Okay, so: when you resurrected it most likely was against your will, especially if you didn't even know it could be done, so what's the first thing you felt?"

Every atom in his body screamed in pain as he broke the surface of the water with a scream of horror, in a dark cave surrounded by unknown people.

"Fear." He admitted, and saw his guest nod knowingly.

"And then?"

“I was alone and away from home, with people after me but no one to come and save me.”

“So you had to survive, and be smart about it; you can’t be rational if you’re always scared.” Jason nodded at him. “What then?”

“I managed to escape and smuggle myself back to the States, to get back home and-” he folded his good leg to rest his chin on his knee, closing his eyes for a moment before soldiering on, “and I found out that my fucking killer was still alive, continuing his fucking reign of horror with no repercussions! I was so fucking mad…” He was startled out of his rant by Danny laying a hand on his shoulder.

He hadn’t felt him move. His ratty and torn mattress hadn’t squeaked with the change in weight. He wasn’t even surprised at this point.

“You were so heartbroken that you hadn’t been avenged, that your mentor –your father– had chosen peace, over justice, over you.”

Tears started to flow freely down his face. Jason didn’t snap back, didn’t push Danny away so he couldn’t see him being weak, exposed, vulnerable. He just let himself be seen, and be grounded by that point of contact.

“I finally came home, and he was fine. He had replaced me with someone better, someone smarter and better behaved, from his own world, and not some… some street urchin! Argh!” He pulled at his hair in frustration, but stopped when his scalp hurt. He looked at Danny again. “How are you doing that?”

“Doing wh-? Oh! Oh, yeah, the whole ‘calm’ thing. Well, I’m immune to the… what was it? Pit Madness, pit, pit, pit, pit- Lazarus Pit- Lazarus Water! Man, the names people give it. Yep, I’m immune to the Lazarus Water, so as long as I’m here –and I demand it–” he mumbled to himself, even though he was pretty much shoulder to shoulder with Jason, ”the Pit Madness has no power, at all.”

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. This… this was himself? When there was no madness-fueled rage to have the biggest input on his actions, or to tint his vision of things red. It felt good. It felt really fucking good; perhaps not right now specifically, with the whole ‘baring your soul to a virtual stranger’ thing, but maybe in a mission when the correct course of action was ‘don’t kill them all’…

“I couldn’t stand it. Everything was better for everyone now that I was dead. I had just been a bump on the road, a footnote between ‘The Original Robin and the Smart Robin’, a cautionary tale. So I had to prove them wrong.” He grimaced, remembering how he had gone about it. (Oh, so the brutal beat up he gave Tim had been the Pit talking. He was a bit dubious about that one.)

“You couldn’t stay heartbroken or in despair, but you also couldn’t muster up hope to make you move.”

“And I chose to be angry so they wouldn’t see me being sad, I know, I’m emotionally constipated.” Jason grunted out, frustrated with himself.

"You chose to be angry, and allowed the Pit Madness to finally take root, but you still didn't accept your dead side, so it hasn't gotten out of your system."

"... say what now."

"What you know as Lazarus Waters, for me is a form of contaminated ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is the matter that gives ghosts corporeal forms and different ways to interact with the living world." Giving no explanation on what these 'interactions' entailed, Danny continued. "It can give 'life' back to the dead, and sometimes sapience. It can't naturally bring the dead back to life, but with time, dedication, and magic, I can see it being manipulated to do so.

“I don't know exactly why it worked the way it did on you, when others have been resurrected this way before; because even if it did bring you back, it didn't bring you fully alive, ‘cause if that was the case then you wouldn't be dealing with anger issues, you would have completely lost your mind and been nothing more than a mindless, rage-filled machine with the training of the Batman, up for the grabbing for any psychic or anyone with the minimum knowledge of mental conditioning. Trust me when I tell you this: being half dead comes as a blessing when someone brainwashes one half of you, because you can still escape through the other half."

"... so that's why you want me to accept being dead."

Danny rubbed at his temples. "Not exactly; that's just one of the things that would be different if you weren't dead, which you are, and I'm glad to see you coming to terms with it; my sales pitch isn't as bad as I feared, then. I'm not saying that if you refuse your dead, ghostly side that you're gonna go insane. The fact that you even have sanity proves that you have a ghostly side. Despite the secondary effects.”

"Well, don't count your eggs just yet, I'm not convinced being dead is a good thing yet. I want more info first, and you promised I would get it."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, you're right. It's not nothing what I'm asking of you. I know that.

"Okay so, when you were brought back, it was half alive and half dead; under other circumstances, that would just end up killing you shortly after, or left you like a 'frail of health Victorian child, bedridden for the rest of however long you lived', or it would have simply shortened your lifespan, since there was magic at play. But it wasn't just any circumstance. It was a pit of gross, stale ectoplasm that strengthened your dead half to create your ghost and attach it to you, I mean your soul —same difference—, along with the Pit Madness.

"If you hadn't repressed it," Danny continued, "the ectoplasm flowing through your body woulda just been processed and replaced, even if you weren't near a strong concentration of ambient ectoplasm. Any type of spiritual energy would've done it.  Heck, you only needed to hang out at a cemetery and your ghost half would have been fine.

"But, since you did and are still repressing it, that same stale ectoplasm that stayed with you when it brought you back is still within you, ten years later, which, I told you I wasn't gonna lie, to me, that old ectoplasm is extremely gross to me. Like, I grew up knowing you have to clean and filter ectoplasm just for industrial use, now organic, yikes! It's like, like your blood was all clogged and you weren't producing any new red cells so your body still needed and used that rotten blood and you were up and about on your day with that flowing through your veins. Ugh!" Danny shuddered with a disgusted grimace, and Jason didn't know if he should feel insulted or not.

"Um… ew?" He lamely settled on.

"Yes, ew. I say this in the best, most tactful way possible, but I'm glad to be dead and proud if I don't have to be like that."

"Wow, that was mean."

"It had to be said."

"Did it though?" Jason said, doing his best impression of Alfie’s unimpressed eyebrow lift.

"Yeah, it did."

"I don't think so, no."

"Oh, but I do, I do believe it."

Both men looked at each other face to face for a long few seconds, and proceeded to break down in an undignified fit of giggles that shook their shoulders and had them doubling over once it became full-on laughter.

"You- you're an ass!" Jason accused him in between panting breaths, shoving at Danny's shoulder with his own.

"Pft, I'm known to have my moments, but you wanted the truth and that's it! You stink!" Danny said, and returned the shove in kind with his own. Knowing they didn't actually need to breathe, he hadn't gotten winded up.

They kept on chuckling for a few more minutes, until they both calmed down and enjoyed the silence some more.

“It wasn’t that funny.” Jason told him at last.

“I know.”

They were both smiling anyway.

 

Danny sobered up, straightening his hunched back, and Jason followed suit. There was still stuff to talk about.

“The ectoplasm in your body can’t be cleaned but it still needs sustenance; if not ectoplasm, spiritual energy, if not energy, then emotions will have to do. But if you shove it down and push it away, it’ll have nothing to latch on to get cleansed. Nothing but itself. So it feeds on the same anger it creates, making it stronger and stronger even as it still tries to be processed out of your body. That’s what makes you mad at the slightest provocation, gives you destructive –and self-destructive– tendencies. It’s why these things are happening more and more often, why you can” he gestured around them with a hand, “black out and wreck shit up without feeling a thing.”

“… will it hurt? If I do it?”

“Yes.” Danny said honestly. “The first time it catches you by surprise, how much it feels like dying all over again, just like the first time. You feel like you won’t come back this time; if you panic like I did, you start losing the perception of yourself, and it feels like you’re dissolving into nothing. When you come back, you enjoy how hard your heart is beating in your ears, how every open-mouthed breath burns your throat as it goes to your lungs. How you can dig your fingers on the hard soil and thump your forehead on the ground. It all feels wonderful, because it shows you are alive, you feel, and you never want to go through that again.

“The second time you do it,” Danny continued, “it feels like holding your breath, only to realize you don’t need air anymore, and if you look around, for a second you get to see why they are the living. How they shine like stars in a clear night sky, how amazing it is, every little blink of theirs, and how the trees breathe and rustle their leaves, the singing of the birds. You never see everything so alive and so bright until you see it with your own dead eyes.” Danny had a faraway look, and Jason felt like he could catch up to that memory if he tried. “And when you come back, you realize it doesn’t matter whether you need it or not, it’s amazing to breathe, to eel the essence of life be part of you. It’s overwhelming, it’s not enough. It humbles you, it elevates you…

“From the third time on, every time you do it feels like taking off a piece of clothing in a hot summer day, and every time you return it’s like putting on a warm coat in a cold winter. It’s not a bad thing, either way. You get the best of both worlds.” He finished with a cheeky smirk.

“Hmm. Do you ever regret it? Or want it to go back?”

Danny took a second to think about it.

“I used to. Back when it had just happened. I thought I was a freak and a monster, and sometimes, I even thought it would have been better if I had finished dying all the way,” Danny admitted softly, and Jason moved to lean his shoulder against Danny’s own, to offer something to ground him, to tell him that it was good he hadn’t finished dying, “I haven’t felt like that in a long while” Danny continued, leaning back on Jason, “and if I actually got the offer of going back and undoing it all so I could live a normal full-life, I wouldn’t take it.” He smiled softly. “I like the person I’ve become. What I am made me who I am today.

“Sure, I’m not saying it’s ‘great!’ I died in a horrific accident just ‘cause it made me grow as a person, that part was awful. Or that dying made me better. What I mean is that maybe I would have been alright if it hadn’t happened. But it did, and I’m finally fine with it.”

Jason processed all of that. Slowly, but surely, he did.

“I still have so many questions.” Jason admitted.

“And I’ll try to have as many answers.”

Danny rested his hand on his thigh, palm up, inviting, unhurried.

Jason took it.

[watercolor-hearts]

Hi! I have two prompts!

1. Is being carried while unconscious and watching love interest while they're unconscious for Simi

And

2. X comes out to Y and is pleasantly surprised at their response with Simi ���

Thanks!!

Oh my god hi!!! You're the first person that ever sent me prompts to write and you made me incredibly happy. Thank you so much and sorry for the long wait! (I wanted to write it on the bus on the way home from the university but I wasn't in the mood for it then.) ❤ Also, Simi, my comfort pairing. 🥺🥰

I know I said I'll write only a few sentences but... It turned out I can't write only a few sentences (or at least I couldn't for this prompt) so here's a 1.3K story. Yeah. Also I still am not good at writing in English so sorry if it's really bad – still thank you for giving me the chance to practice, I appreciate it a lot. (Since it's longer than I expected it to be I'll only put the first story here and then tomorrow I'll try to write the second one too and tag you in the post if that's okay for you.)

• being carried while unconscious • watching love interest while they're unconscious • 1353 words • Seb/Kimi • dehydration • mentions of IV/needles and being scared of needles/smaller injuries • hurt/comfort (sort of) • Ao3 link

-

Sweat ran down Kimi's face when he took his helmet and balaclava off after the race. He handed them to his performance coach and wiped his face with a soft towel he got from him. Singapore is the toughest race of the calendar. Hot, exhausting, and challenging. It requires a lot of strength and skill.

He gave the towel back and started looking for Sebastian. It didn't take long for him to spot the other red car a bit further back as Sebastian's helmet popped up when he started to climb out of the car. Kimi could sense that something wasn't right because it took way too much time for Seb to climb out as he was looking for the right grip on the halo and had to stop a few times when he tried to stand up.

Kimi decided to go closer to check on him and make sure he was all right.

“Seb, you okay?” asked Kimi when Sebastian was finally out of the car, still looking for the best position to stand still so he could take off his helmet. The world started spinning with him, his heart racing and his head throbbing. The dizziness he felt was awful. Sebastian tried to take a deep breath to calm his rapid breathing down and stop the spinning but it didn't help. He couldn't see clearly, there was blurriness everywhere. He reached out to find a hold on the car to stabilize himself and call for help but he wasn't fast enough.

“Seb!” Kimi shouted almost panicking, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw his teammate collapse next to his car. He sped up the last few steps and kneeled next to him. “Seb, can you hear me?” he asked as he opened the visor on Seb's helmet. His teammate didn't respond, his eyes remained closed, his body limp. “Someone get a medic now!” he shouted and a few team members started to run to the medical center to get help.

“Oh my god, Seb!” Charles gasped, his hand over his mouth when he noticed Seb on the ground. More and more people started to gather around them. Kimi didn't like it. It wasn't a show for the people, it was a serious thing.

“Everyone that's not a member of the team or the FIA go away now!” Kimi ordered with a serious look on his face. “He needs space!”

Kimi then looked at Charles. “Help me take his helmet off.”

Charles nodded and kneeled down to help. Charles held the helmet stable while Kimi unbuckled the strap. “Now slowly take it off.”

When the helmet was off of Seb's head, they put him in recovery position. He was breathing and he had a pulse, which was a good sign. “Where's the medic for fuck's sake?” shouted Kimi when he still couldn't see any medical personnel near them. Kimi started to lose his patience. Where the fuck are they? Shouldn't they be nearly everywhere on the track? This is not a fucking joke. His teammate is unconscious and all the people were just watching instead of doing something to get a medic there.

“I'm gonna carry him,” Kimi said firmly. Charles' eyes opened wide and he shook his head.

“No, please don't. We don't know how bad...”

“That's why we can't wait, Charles! I need to get him to the medical center. Help me or go away.”

“I– I'll help you,” Charles nodded, helping Kimi to pick Seb up. Once Seb was in Kimi's hands in the bridal position, head resting on Kimi's shoulder, they were ready to go.

“Clear the way, Charles.”

Charles nodded and went ahead to make room for Kimi all the way to the medical center. He didn't have to do much, fortunately, the people immediately step away to make room for them, wishing Seb to get well soon as they saw him trying to open his eyes and speak a few incoherent words.

***

“He's severely dehydrated,” the doctor told Kimi after examining Seb. “We're going to give him some fluids and electrolytes, that should help. He's going to be all right in a few hours but he needs to rest after the treatment.”

“I'm gonna take care of that, doctor,” Kimi nodded. “Thank you.”

“The IV is in, it'll take about an hour for his body to process the fluid. I'll come back and check on him a few times.”

“Thank you. I'm gonna stay here until he's okay again.”

The doctor nodded and left the room.

After they were left alone, Kimi reached out to hold Seb's hand. He tried to be as gentle as he can not to hurt him. Kimi knew how much Seb hated needles and wanted to make having an IV a bit better. He'll maybe even massage Seb's hand later to make him feel better.

Kimi was scared. He would never admit it but he was scared. He knew it wasn't good if someone was unconscious for longer than a minute. Seb was conscious for a few seconds on the way there but that wasn't much and seeing him being unconscious again made Kimi worry. What if he has a head injury? The doctor said he doesn't show any head injury-related symptoms but still. They could never know for a hundred percent.

He looked at Seb's face and noticed how dull it was. There were dark circles under his eyes and his fine lines were more defined than usual. He clearly was looking sick. Was his drinking system not working? Or was he already sick and still decided to race? Kimi didn't know the answer.

He started to caress Seb's hand and like it was some kind of magic, as a reaction to it Seb started opening his eyes.

“Hi,” Kimi whispered, “Are you gonna stay now?”

“Yeah,” Seb smiled, “I'll try to. There's a needle in my hand, right?”

Kimi tried to hide the cannula from Seb but he of course could still feel it. Kimi didn't want him to stress about it. “Don't think about it. The doctor said it'll only take an hour and then we can go back to the hotel to rest. I'll be here with you and then I'll drive us back to the hotel.”

“Yeah?” asked Seb, smile growing wider on the thought of Kimi being there with him so he doesn't have to be alone and think about the needle in his hand and causing himself panic with it. “What about the race debrief?”

“They said we can do it tomorrow or when you're feeling better again. You're more important than the debrief. You scared everyone.”

Seb looked away. “I'm sorry.” He couldn't not look at his hand. He flinched at the sight of the IV cannula. “Do you—Do you still have those band-aids with the bees on them?” Seb asked shyly.

“Well...,” smirked Kimi, “There might be some left in my suitcase.” He didn't want to tell that after the first time he gave one to Seb after cutting his finger while cooking, Kimi bought three more packs of those bee-patterned kids' band-aids because Seb loved it and his happiness made Kimi happy too.

“Then... Can I—Can I have one after the IV?” Seb asked, not daring to look Kimi in the eye because he was scared Kimi would laugh at him for being scared of needles and small injuries and wanting kids' band-aids to feel better.

“Seb,” Kimi whispered while gently caressing Sebastian's cheek, “Look at me, please,” he asked in that tone Seb really really loves and can't say no to it because Kimi only uses it with him.

So Seb looked at him.

“You can always have the bee band-aids. They make the pain go away and that's what's the most important. Right?”

Seb nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered and then moved Kimi's hand from his face to his lips and placed a soft kiss on it. His lips were a bit dry but it didn't matter. “Love you, Kimi.”

Kimi leaned over Seb and kissed his temple. “Don't ever scare me like this again.”

[weasvlys]

My sweet, Pandora.

Paring: Fred Weasley x Pandora Diggory (Fem! OC)

Type: Enemies to lovers, slowburn.

Warning: sexual harassment (?

Masterlist.

Foreword.

Word count: 3190

Tags: @slvdsjjk

Note: I know that in the fourth movie there is no quidditch team because of the Triwizard Tournament, but for plot reasons, we’ll pretend there is ;)

iv. Hogwarts.

A couple of weeks had passed since that attack and the letter to Hogwarts had finally arrived, apparently they would select you home just like the first years, so it would be held at the same time, that terrified you, but not only that, but also having to see Fred Weasley again, and with it, paying your bet, and worse still, he'll see you in a ceremony where you would have to stand in front of the whole school with a ridiculous hat, it was a stupid idea, but still, you resigned yourself, and accepted as absolute, Cedric, for his part, was initially quite happy at the idea of ​​seeing you on that platform, however, upon hearing your opinion, he was reluctant, even capable of starting a riot, it was one of the things you loved about your brother, that he always wanted to help you any way he could.

You finished your bags and went downstairs to meet your father and Cedric in their travel cloaks in front of the fireplace, ready to head to Diagon Alley, you took flu powder and went into the fireplace and in a blink you were inside Quality Quidditch Supplies, since your brother wanted to buy a completely new training equipment, new knee pads, new helmet, etcetera, in your opinion it was an unnecessary expense, but you decided not to comment, until your name was pronounced, "And also for my daughter Pandora, who will also be joining the team" hearing that you were about to protest, until you saw Cedric's scolding look, and you backed up, "You won't screw this up, dad is very excited to see you play since the twins told him about your spectacular performance." Cedric said in a whisper after leading you to a corner of the store, "Well, they shouldn't have, you know very well that-" You said protesting but Cedric interrupted you, "Wanna know something? you play better than most of Hogwarts? Yes, exactly" he said responding to the sentence you didn't finish, you shut up, since you knew perfectly well that Beauxbatons stood out for its quality of teaching offensive Quidditch, so, you thought that it would not be such a bad idea to join the team, if you would already go through the embarrassment of being selected at 17 years old, the shame of losing a game would be wrong., immersed in your thoughts, you felt a soft pat in your shoulder "I know you'll be amazing..." your father's voice said, this was one of the first times when your father was trying to have an active place in your life, apparently, trying to be a father, "just like your mother" he continued, tears where starting to form in Amos's eyes, this was probably one of the first time he'd showed any kind of emotion to you, which makes you feel quite uncomfortable, but relived, at the same time, you didn't say a thing, and he just left.

You were looking at a leather breastplate when suddenly you heard a gruff and deep voice behind you "I don't think it's your size" that made you jump and when you turned you had Fred Weasley so close to you that you could feel his breath, you were blown away for a couple of seconds, but almost immediately, you separated him with your hand on his chest, and walked away, trying to avoid him, "What's happening baby? You're not gonna pay your debt?" He said laughing, in front of your father, "Well hello there, young Weasley" Amos replied, with a jolly smile, and you felt your stomach fell to the ground, "I hope he didn't hear about the debt thing" you thought, "what debt" your father replied,

"No, nothing dad, just something about a bet, but it doesn't matter..." you laughed nervously, trying to pretend nothing was happening, hoping that lie had convinced him, and just when it seemed your father wanted to dig deeper into it, you heard a crowd enter the store and a familiar voice behind you "Amos! What's up, mate?" You turned your gaze and there was Arthur accompanied by his brood of redheads and two browns sticking out and, on this occasion, he was followed by a short, plump and tender lady, equally red-haired, who you guessed was mother Weasley, they approached and greeted in the most affectionate way possible, the lady even gave you a sweet and motherly hug, she had a sweet smell of cinnamon and ginger, "You are more beautiful than your father said" said the lady taking you by the cheeks with both hands, that made you blush, "Call me Molly, dear" she said, "Amos, could we share a word?" Arthur asked your father with a knowing look.

"The ministry will deny it Amos," said Arthur in a whisper, it wasn't your intention to eavesdrop, but you were doing it, you had been surprised how little or almost nothing had been said about the incident at the quidditch world cup, the incident with the dark mark, "You and I know what happened over there, you and I saw the mark..." said Amos, a little elated, "since when has that ever been enough for the ministry?!" Repeated Arthur, "Pandora!" Said Hermione raising her voice, that caught your attention immediately, "Is everything alright?" she asked, it seemed that you had been immersed in that extraneous talk for a while, "Yes- yes of course" you answered, "It's just that since that bet you seem a bit... confused" said Ginny "Oh, believe me, I'm not nervous" you answered laughing "we didn't say you were nervous" repeated hermione, making fun of you.

———————-

"Promise me you will write" said your father to you and your brother, "remember there is no right house to be in" he addressed you, you only replied with a soft laugh "unless it's hufflepuff, then you will be in the right house" said your brother "or gryffindor", said a familiar voice behind you, Fred Weasley's, then, you got on the train, and as soon as the train left, you went seat by seat, but they all seemed to be full, until you found an empty one, all to yourself, you arranged your luggage and sat down, ready to sleep the whole trip, until, "May I, princess?" Said Fred, entering without needing an answer, "well you're already in" you answered without looking at him, "oh come on, are you still upset?" He answered, you just rolled your eyes, "what, beautiful, you won't pay?" He said leaning in front of you, again you could smell his sweet pumpkin candy scent, that melted you intensely, but now, you had the strength not to look at him, and just when you were about to let out a sigh, George entered, "what's up lovebirds? Can I put my stuff in here?" he said, also without waiting for an answer.

A couple of hours had passed, and that embarrassing situation was softened by the presence of Lee Jordan, and his girlfriend Tamil Raj, who was a sweet and funny girl, but determined and tough, qualities that you appreciated intensely, she was in gryffindor house, and seemed to have a somewhat complex relationship with Lee, who was very close to the twins, she had an incomparable love for him, and seemed intensely attracted to him but, at the same time, seemed to be somewhat embarrassed by his teasing habits, and while George and Lee were having an exciting chat, you and Tamil were getting close "what about Fred's look?... on you." Said Tamil, "shhh, he can hear you" you replied, you looked at Fred for a moment, definitely asleep, and a drop of saliva fell down his cheek as he snored loudly, he definitely wouldn't hear the conversation, "yeah... I don't think that's possible" she said looking laughing in a whisper, you returned your gaze to her and confessed "I don't know, I find him attractive but..." you were saying, you hesitated for a second "but what?" Tamil continued, "but he is a flirt, and it seems to me that he is with everyone, I don't want to get my hopes up, and much less give him the pleasure of having kissed me, if he kissed someone it would be someone who deserves it" you said, and finally you managed to get out what you had stuck, "oh, yes, he is a flirt, but something about his look on you, almost like... admiration" Tamil said, those words got stuck on your head.

———————-

"I'll have to go in that boat? But it's so... small." You said to the two meter man next to you "Go ahead, just get in" he answered, you couldn't refuse and you got in, you felt like an embarrassment in that tiny and apparently insecure boat, you could feel how with the weight of the big man you felt even more insecure, but you decided to trust, and you crossed the black lake, you found the huge castle beautiful from that distance, it was wonderful; It was beautiful to see those lights hanging from the ceiling and the night reflected in the sky, and that ceremony to which you had an almost inexplicable terror, began.

"Clara Cudlepot... Ravenclaw!" it sounded in the four walls, and a cheer followed, "Pandora Diggory!" You heard, immediately all eyes were on you, that made you feel small and exposed, it took you a couple of seconds to move your feet, but you made it, you walked up the stairs, and met the mysterious gaze of Professor Mcgonagall, you sat on small stool, and placed the old and neglected hat on your head, it was heavier than you expected, you looked everywhere, looking for the gaze of your brother, who you noticed was looking at you with an intense affection, and a contagious tranquility, you took a breath, closed your eyes and...

"Uhm... strange... you are a determined and tenacious young lady, but you are afraid..., and you have courage, with it you will do wonderful things..." said the hat's grave and eloquent voice, with a remarked hiss, "- where I will send you, which house will know how to perform your skills better... you are a leader, a boss!... you never lie, you never fake… but where?… I know… Griffyndor!" The hat chirped, and you felt your stomach drop into place, a cheer went up and a couple of "Hurrah! Hooray!" very particular envelope came out, and when you looked across the table, they were from Fred and another was from Cedric, who was on the other side of the dining room.

You were heading to the bench at the table and suddenly you heard a loud "Pandora! Here!" it was Tamil, who had a smile from ear to ear, and who was offering you a seat between her... and Fred, you hesitated and second, but took a seat, and on the way you received a couple of exited pats on the back.

"The Princess of Griffyndor, ladies an gentlemen!" Fred shouted, getting everyone's attention and receiving a couple of laughs, you just couldn't resist your happiness, and couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh at his comment, to be honest, Fred was funny from time to time, "Is that a smile?" he asked, nudging you gently, "Oh! Shut up already" you said, scoffing, to which you received a couple of chuckles, and suddenly, from the empty plates in front of the table you craved a feast worthy of Hogwarts, of every dish you could think of, and you quickly rushed to put on your plate a bit of each dish, and the chatter was even more enjoyable, "See the girl over there?" she said, "The brunette?" You asked, "yes, she's Angelina, and she's been after Fred for years," Tamil said, "but I think Fred has been stronger, hahaha." She finished, you didn't understand why she had given you that information, but she definitely saw them as a couple in the near future, "in her dreams" you thought.

"You know?, I know of a way to get into the girls' dormitories without getting caught..." Fred said suddenly, his mouth still half full, "So? " You asked, not giving it a thought, "well, I thought since you owe me, I might take a ride sometime soon and claim it..." he said, as his voice became softly deeper, "Fred, there is no way, on earth, that I would kiss you..." you said, staring into his eyes, even though you liked him, there was no way he could read that in your gaze, "Sure? Because I'm pretty sure that in the tent, before the attack, you were ready to pay your debt" he said, sneering, "You disgust me" you said angrily.

Eventually dinner ended, and you started walking towards the common room, you wondered what it would be like, if it was as cozy as they described, and if there really were big parties as Tamil have mentioned, You were confronted with an unpleasant scene, Angelina grabbing Fred's arm, or Fred giving Angelina his arm? Either way, it made you feel an inexplicable disgust in your stomach, and you could feel your hands and feet boil, as they laughed and Angelina gave him a kiss on the cheek you could only think that he didn't know you were around, because if he did he would stop, wouldn't he? Was she his girlfriend? Or why did he have that kind of touching? Was he almost unfaithful to you? Did he see you as a distraction? But Tamil said that... sunk in your thoughts you turned to look up and , you didn't notice a brown boy in front of you, and suddenly, you bumped into him, falling on your butt, just like the "I’m- I’m sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." you said trying to stand up, when you pushed your hair out of your face, you saw a handsome boy in front of you, extending his hand "it's… hum… ok..." he said, with a hidden smile, you took his hand and stood up, "I'm Edward Parkinson..." he said, his voice was very masculine and sensual, but it seemed that it was not forced "I am-" you were about to say while shaking his hand "Pandora Diggory" he interrupted you, "I saw you at the sorting, I’m not a stalker ~haha~" he said with an awkward laugh “what is uncomfortable? The sorting?” He continued "well yeah, I guess it was" you said in a laugh, "you're from ravenclaw" you said "yeah, you know, the house of the bright…" he said making fun of the motto, that made you laugh "well... I guess I should be going" you said "yeah, go ahead, see you later" he said, you turned and went, "Parkinson... from something that rings a bell..." you thought, "Of course!”, he was the Slytherin girl's brother, Ginny had told you about her, and her family's bad reputation, it didn't seem to you that he was 'evil', as Hermione had described them, but either way you would go carefully.

———————-

You were in a small armchair in front of the fire in the common room, drinking something that Tamil had called "Drink of Gods" and Hermione as "The booze of fools", whatever it was, it was starting to have an effect on you, "Surely McGonagall won't come?" You asked George, "Sure! She never comes down, and even less if you put some potion in her night tea hahaha" he replied elbowing Lee, who was next to him, "You put sleeping potion in her tea?!" You asked upset, "She does it by herself" said Tamil, "Guys! Stop bothering her!" he replied giving Lee a smack on the head, while with his other hand he held two shots of a yellow liquid that was releasing sparks "You have to try this! You'll love it!" she said as she handed you one of the shots, you looked at the drink for a second and hesitated, the morning of the next day would be the first day of school, and you definitely didn't want to show up with a hangover, "I-I don't know Tamil, it's getting late..." you replied "Oh, come on!" she begged, "Don't beg her Tamil, she's obviously a coward, she doesn't even pay her dues!" Said Fred mocking you, that made you furious, you fixed your gaze on him and without thinking you took that liquid in one gulp, and instantly you felt your stomach roar and a puff of fire came out of your mouth, almost like a roar, and as soon as you had the chance you put your palms over your mouth, and that burning was over to leave a funny tickle in your throat, "What was that?!” You said “It's called Fire Wisky princess, possibly they didn't have it at your royal school but it's often drunk here...” said Fred, annoying you, to which Tamil punched him in the arm, somewhat hard, which Lee and George responded with laughter, and in a few moments that drink was having an effect on you, your words were starting to stumble and your gaze was getting blurry.

"And? Did you like it?" asked Tamil, who seemed to be having the same effect, "Mhjm~" you said, "You know? I never imagined doing this... I mean, at Beauxtons everything has to be perfect, every potion, every spell, your hairstyle, your clothes, even how you stand! And here you are so... relaxed" you said "Forget about that!" said Tamil giving you a push, "tomorrow you'll wake up... you'll have breakfast and get dirty if you want..." she continued, "And I guess that must have been soooo hard..." said Fred, who had reddened cheeks and messy hair, that made him look even more handsome, "Leave her alone!" Said Ginny, "Pardon me, okay!?" You said getting up hurriedly and heading towards him "Not all of us have the problem of being as cute as you" you said slapping him on the cheek to which you received a couple of giggles, "Why don't you kiss me already?" Fred said, so close to you that you could feel his breath, the warmth twinning of his body, and his withering brown eyes on your lips, he put his hand on your waist slowly, pulled you close to him, and opened his mouth softly, and suddenly, when you felt him close to you, he pulled away, "See how simple it is guys?" He said mocking you as he looked at Ron and Harry, you felt your stomach drop, and an unexplainable pain, it was like... humiliation, "You're an idiot!" you said pushing him away from you, and you walked away from him, and suddenly you felt a hand squeezing your butt followed by a "Come on baby!" That came from Fred, immediately and without hesitation you turned around and slapped him across the face, and he gave you back a dumbfounded look, as if he had expected his technique to work "This may always work for you with Angelina, but not with me!" you told him while he was still holding his cheek with his hand, and quickly went up to the dormitories with Tamil and Ginny behind you, and only managed to hear a "You're a barbarian!" From Hermione .

--------

“I've never been humiliated like that before”, you said to Tamil as you finished settling on your bed, you looked at the clock next to you, "12AM" you thought, she gave you a comforting look, "you did the right thing" she said, "I know..." you said in a sigh, and she blew out the candles, and in your mind only one thought came to mind "Fred Weasley will never kiss me".

[lost-kingsmen]

Ao3

"You need to rest." Gawain's eye lights flickered briefly - first up, over the edge of his book, and then down to the pages again - at the quiet crunch of dried leaves. Chopper lashed her long tail as her liege tried to ignore her, and grudgingly uncoiled from her comfortable position beneath the desk lamp to stand up and arc her spine in a stretch. "You have been active for six months and fifteen days. You need to rest." She insisted in the soft shushing of leaves in the wind.

"When did you start counting?" Gawain flipped the page of the book to try and make it clear that he wasn't listening. He hadn't read a single sentence in the past ten minutes. He just...he couldn't focus on the words. He got too distracted by the surreal glow of his own eyes on the page and how, no matter where he looked-

Little orange claws hooked over the edges of the pages as Griflet hauled his body up from the knight's lap. Though the spirit's negligible weight barely even made a dent in the paper, Gawain lowered the book anyway, allowing Griflet to climb up and resettle over the pages in a definitive end to his distracted reading.

"Rest is important." Chopper made sounds like the creaking of old trees in a storm as she gathered her long body at the edge of the desk, and then jumped across to take up the space in Gawain's lap that Griflet had vacated. "You need to-"

"NO." Gawain moved to stand up abruptly, causing Chopper and Griflet to tumble off his lap with a series of startled chirps. They recovered quickly, though, and gave their master matching looks of mild offense. "I can't risk it. I can't risk losing another twenty years-" He made a sound akin to breath hissing through clenched teeth as something tried to wedge itself between his palm and clenched fingers, and almost jerked his hand away. Branwen simply reached out again to take the knight's hand and lifted it to press it against the heart-shaped mark on her chest.

"You are not alone anymore." The spirit said in the soft clicking of his brother's building bricks. Gawain made the hissing sound again, but softer - quieter - in the fragile silence that now filled the space in the wake of his own near-shouting. He felt Griflet and Chopper grasp at his other hand, and let his arm go limp so that they could lift it, too.

"We will wake you." Branwen promised in the soft rumble of distant thunder before leaning her long neck in to press her head against the side of his helmet. Griflet and Chopper echoed her with rumbles of their own, patting his hand and arm with their little claws, and Gawain's eyelights narrowed.

But...not in anger.

"I can't lose another twenty years." He repeated in a voice far more defeated than before. Griflet moved to wrap his arms around the knight's wrist in a reassuring little hug. "I've already missed so much, I-. I can't."

"You will not." Branwen promised again, this time in the gentle ticking of the old clock that hung on the wall of his uncle's study. "We will wake you. You are not alone anymore." Gawain said nothing and let his eyelights flicker out of sight. He did not resist, however, when the three spirits guided him to walk around the bean bag chair he'd been sitting in and stand in one corner of the shed, where he could lean against the edge of a windowsill and the frame of a cluttered shelf.

They settled around him - Branwen stretched across his shoulders in a comforting weight, Chopper coiled around his boots like a patrolling guard dog, and Griflet draped across his hands - as the fatigue he had been fighting off for so long began to weigh on him, impossibly heavy and inescapable.

He felt a spike of fear as his awareness began to fade into the dark, but fighting was no option, anymore. Gawain's helmet dipped slightly as he dropped fully under, and Chopper heaved a heavy sigh.

"So dramatic..." She tutted in the tinkling of broken glass. Branwen reached a paw deep into her mouth and dug around for a few seconds before producing an old hourglass in a wooden casing. She set this carefully on a clear spot on the shelf beside them, and then settled back with a satisfied hum.

"Start small." She told the others in the splashing of little feet in a shallow puddle. "One hour. Later more." Chopper rolled her yellow eyes but didn't argue further. Instead, she kept her gaze on the falling sand as the other two drifted off for a quick nap of their own.

"Start small..." She whispered to herself. One hour wasn't nearly enough to make up for months of neglect, but she could understand Gawain's fear....after all, how could one tell an hour from a year when unconscious to the passing of time?

Chopper coiled herself a little tighter around Gawain's boots and watched the falling sand for the rest of the hour.