#you know old couples where both die quickly after the first person dies
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
isn't it crazy that varric died not having gotten over bianca
#like. the embodiment of his connection to bianca gets destroyed and varric dies only minutes later#theres something really poetic about that#you know old couples where both die quickly after the first person dies#this feels like that but wrong. twisted. as if he couldnt live without bianca#what he had of bianca at least! bc it wasnt the real bianca it was something he had of her from decades ago that hes been holding on to#while the real bianca had been changing through her life probably#i remember when the first 20 minutes of the game came out and some people were so happy that varric HAS to get over bianca now that#the crossbow was destroyed#but no of course not#the exact thing that destroyed his only connection to bianca killed him mere minutes later#da#datv#varric tethras#nett plays datv#veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#da meta#dragon age
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
182 Days of TPN - Day 98
Chapter 98: “Starting Sound”
I like how the first couple pages fake us out by thinking the enemy is about to attack Emma & everyone else when they actually end up raiding an dummy shelter. Very thankful to James for setting up so many empty ones because this keeps Peter’s men occupied for almost two years trying to find the right one.
Y’all know you can sleep in a bit longer since you’re not bound by the GF schedule anymore, right?? Old habits die hard I guess.
Props to Ray, Pepe and whomever else normally helps in the kitchen because that is definitely a lot of mouths to feed all at one time. Also love how intermingled the tables are between GF & GP children, like it doesn’t matter where they came from, they’re all one big family.
I adore seeing them adjust to the shelter life and all the different tasks the kids take on. I’m mighty fond of seeing Oliver wear the shelter jacket & turtleneck as well! Wish we got to see that look on him more often, same with Nigel without his usual hat. But there’s no way Paula could still be recovering a month and a half later! Hell, she’s shown sitting at the tables during breakfast just fine! Ahh whatever, still cute that Zack continues to check up on her. GP trio owns a special place in my heart.
With Dominic learning how to hunt from Yuugo, I guess it isn’t totally farfetched that season two had him pick up archery so quickly. I do remember that Rossi learns morse code eventually, but I was unaware he tries to learn some medical stuff alongside Theo? At least, I’m assuming that’s what going on considering Anna & Zack are there too.
Ah.. back during ch92 I wondered why the GF kids never picked up on Adam reciting Norman’s number when they returned to the shelter, but I guess the big guy just switched it up and started repeating Emma’s ID nonstop instead. Makes sense as to why Violet seems a bit confused about it, not because she doesn’t remember Emma’s number but if that’s the same number Adam was saying the whole time back at GP.
I haven’t looked for fics in a hot minute, but I remember there were always tons about RE in the shelter library and not enough (or any) about the secret room and I gotta wonder why. Clearly they’re down below often enough during the past seven days if that GV kid knows where they are.
Well, Sonya’s correct about the first part since it’s revealed earlier this chapter that Peter killed off a handful of supporters back in 2031. Also, love how one of the tiny, surprised faces kinda looks like the drawing Shirai typical uses.
Still a more complex way to locate the secret room than how season two had it be “hidden” behind a simple, very noticable door labeled “pen.”
I despise this man so damn much.. absolutely hate him and his stupid fingers tapping away endlessly. I still dunno if this is just a random thing he does or if it’s actually morse. Can’t confirm it with season two either since the anime did one thing right and cut him out.
Speaking of morse code, I love how Emma quickly hands the phone over to Ray once she recognizes it. Sure she’s skilled enough to decipher it, but hearing morse is much different than seeing it, and there’s no way she wants to miss a single detail after waiting a whole week to hear back from the supporters, so she tosses the phone to Ray since she believes he will catch everything more efficiently than she could. And he does.
Now, I may be a total idiot, but for the life of me, I can’t remember who this hooded person might be? With it currently being March 2046, it can’t be James since he died sometime around September 2031 (if ch73 is anything to go by) and it ain’t Norman since he’s still trapped at Lambda until 2047. Perhaps Peter missed a supporter hiding amongst the Ratri clan and this is some random person but I dunno. Oh, unless this is just Smee..? I mean, the cloak he’s wearing is pretty much the same one Norman uses later on, so he could easily acquire it when they’re both at Lambda. That could be it. Hopefully.
Favorite panel/moment:
I HAVE DEARLY MISSED MY BOY CHRIS!! (& yes I noticed Gillian’s tiny head pat to Thoma. See! I knew they would get along well!)
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths
So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.
My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.
My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.
It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.
The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.
- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.
- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.
- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.
- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,
- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.
- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.
- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.
- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.
- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.
- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.
- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.
- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.
- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.
- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.
- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)
- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.
- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.
- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.
- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.
- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)
- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.
- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.
- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.
- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.
- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.
- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.
- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.
- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.
- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.
- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.
- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.
- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.
- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.
- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.
#I imagine grasspelt as a chill stoner dude#next I’m gonna revamp my Ivypool PTSD headcanons cause I also have that lmao#warrior cats#warrior cats ableism#ableism#disability#warriors#briarlight#Grasspelt#briargrass#was#Longtail#warriors au#autism#warrior cats au#wa riot cats rewrite
549 notes
·
View notes
Text
Empty Home || Bucky Barnes
pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader
summary: after the loss of your husband, you come home for the first time since his death and memories flood back from your relationship. loosing yourself in your grief, you lose control.
a/n: based on that scene from wandavision- you’ll know the one. bucky and sam were never snapped. replies and reblogs are super appreciated!
word count: 3.7k
warnings: bucky died, difficulties dealing with loss, grief, just really sad, angst, mentions of blood, choking
masterlist || taglist
You felt numb as you twisted the brass knob on your front door. Although the door was no heavier than it had always been, it took every ounce of strength within you just to get it open and once you did, it took even more just to step inside.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asked, grabbing your hand in his and pulling you back towards him.
You laughed as you collided with his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared up at his smiling face.
“Inside our house,” You said. “to take off these disgusting clothes and relax.”
“What’s disgusting about it?” He asked, resting his hands on your waist.
“I don’t know,” You said. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been wearing the same sweatpants for twenty-six hours?”
“Well,” He said, leaning down to press his lips against yours. “I think you look beautiful.”
“Hmmm,” You hummed brushing your lips against his once more. “I think that’s the jet lagging talking.”
“Let’s go to bed then.”
Before you even had a chance to turn around and head back through the door, you felt Bucky’s flesh hand run down your back and behind your knees while you felt the cool touch of vibranium brush against your back.
“What are you-” You began just as Bucky bent down and lifted you into his arms bridal-style- your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and holding onto him for dear life as he did. “Buck!”
“What?” He asked, pushing the door open with his foot. “This is our first time going home as a married couple, Y/n. I gotta carry you over the threshold.”
“That’s a stupid tradition.”
“Yeah?” He asked. “How about I just drop you then?”
Just as he said that, his hands let go of you for a moment before catching you once again.
“Buck!” You squealed, tightening your grip. “Fine! Fine! Carry me over the threshold or whatever.”
Smiling to himself at your concession, he lifted you once more, pulling you tighter towards him as he stepped one foot in through the front door of your home. You had to admit as you stared up at him while in his arms that you felt your cheeks grow warm, still shy in such a personal moment despite the fact that you two had been together for years and had just gotten married seven days ago. Not being able to help yourself from the smile on your face, you pressed a kiss against his scruff before nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.
“Not so bad, was it?” He asked once he stood in the foyer.
“I gotta admit, Buck.” You said stretching out your hand that held your wedding ring on your finger while still being carried in his arms. “I could get used to this.”
Stepping into the entryway, you felt a pang in your chest at how empty the house felt knowing that your husband would no longer be waiting behind any of those doors.
You felt like a stranger in your own home, studying it for the first time as your heels clacked against the hardwood floor, noticing Bucky’s old combat boots still sat by the doorway, waiting for their owner that would never come home.
You always nagged him about leaving his shoes in the middle of the hallway- how you would always trip over them when you weren’t watching where you were going.
Now you just wished you could call his name and hear his voice echo throughout house one more time.
“Buck!” You shouted. “Your shoes-”
“It’s fine, doll.” He said, making his way into the hallway. “I was just about to go out.”
You quirked your eyebrow and crossed your arms.
“Oh really?” You asked. “And where are you headed Mr. Barnes?”
Snatching the boots from your hands, he bent down and pecked your cheek.
“To get flowers Mrs. Barnes.” He said. “I’ll be right back.”
As you stared at the shoes now, you almost felt as if he was there with you. His shoes were no longer in the middle of the floor, but set by the door just like you had always asked him to do.
It was almost as if he knew he’d be leaving you with them one last time.
He never liked you tripping without him being there to catch you.
Stepping over the floorboard that always creaked, you made your way into the living room, the light that was pouring in almost taunting you, reminding you of the way you used to admire your husband’s sculpted features in its soft glow.
You brushed your fingertips against the record player near the doorway, recalling the look on Bucky’s face when he opened his Christmas gift to find the same record player his mother used to have eighty years before.
Bending down in front of the device, you sorted through the records on the shelf, thumbing through all of Bucky’s favorites to find the one you were looking for. Finally finding the fated record, the corners of its album ruined from the amount of times you and your husband had picked it out, you slid the record out of its case and into your hands, the album falling to the floor besides you.
Setting the record into the player, your lip began to tremble as the music softly carried into the air.
“No,” Bucky corrected you, glancing down at the both of your feet. “Like this, doll.”
You followed Bucky’s movements, one of your hands rested on his chest while the other was on his back. When he stepped back, you stepped forward, and as you finally stopped stepping on his toes, you glanced up at him hopefully.
“Like this?” You asked.
“Just like that, doll.” He said smiling. “You got it.”
Feeling proud of yourself for finally getting the dance movements your husband had taught you down, you laid your head against his chest as the two of you continued to slow dance in your living room. You closed your eyes as you allowed the music to flow through your ears and the warm glow of the holiday lights to embrace the two of you.
No matter how many holidays you went through, all of them were better by his side. Even as you spent Christmas Eve dancing by yourselves in your own quaint living room, you couldn’t think of any other place you would ever want to be besides in his arms.
“Merry Christmas, James.” You whispered, as he hummed along with the music.
Rubbing circles into the small of your back, Buck pressed a light kiss on the top of your head without missing a step.
“Merry Christmas, Y/n.”
Feeling your heart sink to the pit of your stomach, you let out a sob you didn’t even realize you were holding in. It quickly felt as if the walls began closing in on you and the music you had once shared with your beloved was taunting you on every note. You rushed out of the room, the music following you into the hallway as you began rushing up the stairs, gripping onto the handrail for dear life.
Your heart began racing as you reached the last step and shoved open the door of you and Bucky’s shared bedroom.
It was still torn apart from the last time you and Bucky had stayed there. Both of your clothes were strewn across the floor- your closet flung open and old suits of yours and his spilling out from its frame.
You felt yourself choke as you realized how much life was in this room- how everything in here was still exactly the way that he had touched it- the way he had left it.
You wanted to grab his shirt and hold it to your nose- pretending he was still there with you- but you feared that if you actually moved it even a centimeter he would really, truly be gone.
You started hyperventilating at the room surrounding you, the music from downstairs still drifting into your ears. Everywhere you looked reminded you of him- his touch, his smile, his presence- him. You couldn’t fathom that he was gone. That he was taken from you.
You would never hear his laugh again, never come home with him. You would never nag him about his shoes or slow dance with him on cold winter nights. You would never be able to hold him in your arms or tell him how much you loved him one last time.
You caught the glimmer of an object on top of the pile of scattered clothes and not being able to help yourself you slowly made your way over to the bed. With trembling hands you picked up Bucky’s watch from the bed, turning it over with your fingers.
“Till The End of Time.”
Whatever composure you had left crumbled along with you as you fell to your knees.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.
You and Bucky had given your lives to saving the world- to being its protectors. He had suffered more than many could even imagine. You had given and given and given and just when you finally got to receive, it was snatched from your hands too soon by an unforgiving force.
He didn’t deserve to die. You didn’t deserve to be forced to know a life without him.
You were tired. You were robbed. You were distraught.
You were empty.
You clutched the watch in your fist so tightly you were sure the glass would shatter against your skin but as you struggled for breath, choking on your own sobs as they caught in your throat you lost control.
The ground beneath you came apart, the clothes that had once been scattered across the room spinning around you as the house you were trapped in blew apart and came together like a beating a heart.
You arms were thrown in the air, using every bit of strength you had to take down the titan in front of you. It was difficult, but you grunted as you felt the pressure weighing down on you- trying your best to keep his force from tearing you down.
When you heard your husband’s voice scream at you from across the battlefield, though, you lost focus.
You slipped.
When your head was turned for less than a second, your guard let down, the mad titan wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you up from the ground.
Your powers were useless against him as long as he had the stones, so all you could do was wrap your own hands around his wrists- trying to no avail to lose his grip and allow yourself to be set free.
Bucky watched in horror as you struggled in Thanos’ grasp, kicking your legs against the air.
He focused himself quickly, trying to find any way to successfully set you free- to save you.
That’s when his eyes landed on it.
The gauntlet on Thanos’ hand.
His eyes glanced from the taunting stones to your struggling form in the titan’s grasp.
Years ago it would’ve been easy to make a decision like this- it would’ve been easy for him to lay down his life for the greater good. He had lived long enough. He had seen enough. He was tired.
But then he met you and it was like he was finally living a life again.
He would easily lay down his life for you, but he wanted so desperately for there to be another way.
He wanted there to be some clue- some answer- that would keep him with you. That would let him live out the rest of his natural life with you because even if he lived until two-hundred it wouldn't be enough. No time spent with you would ever be enough.
But you living though? That would be enough.
Bucky threw the gun in his hand onto the ground and with a running start, leaped towards the titan, briefly grabbing his fist in his hand.
Thanos, so consumed in his own rage, only swat Bucky away without even realizing what he had done.
As the air began to leave your body, Bucky stared at the six stones in his hand. Even with the vibranium, he began to feel the energy being sucked out of his body from the stones and the weight they laid on his senseless palms.
He looked up and saw your eyes fluttering and knew he had to act quick.
How did he live until one hundred and six and still feel as though he hadn’t had enough time?
With his trembling flesh hand, Bucky shoved the stones onto the vibranium knuckles of his other hand, biting back a guttural shout as the power burnt his fingertips and the palm of his hands.
“Y/n!” He shouted, raising his vibranium hand.
Thanos loosened his grip just enough that you could finally gasp for breath but when you did, you saw the sight of your husband over Thano’s shoulders kneeling on the rubble, the stones on his vibranium hand with sparks of energy running up his arm.
You felt your heart stop in your chest in that moment, the world stopping around you as you locked eyes with Bucky.
Bruce’s words from earlier ran through your head-
“None of you could survive.”
You knew none of you could. You knew Bucky couldn't. You knew when he snapped his fingers it would be the end of the line for him.
You knew he lived such a long life, but how could you be asked to let him go? How could you let him sacrifice himself when he had finally found peace after so long?
In that moment you wished you had more energy- that Thanos hadn't nearly knocked the life out of you so you could utilize your powers. So you could kill Thanos yourself. So you could put a forcefield around the two of you and let the battle run its course. So you could- in the very least- use your telepathic abilities one last time to let your husband know you loved him- that you were proud of him. That even after years of fighting it- he was a hero.
Even without words, though, as your sights set on him through teary eyes, you understood everything that was going on inside his head. Love, you thought, sometimes had the ability to be stronger than magic and you were grateful in that moment to have such a shared such a passionate life with the man in front of you.
As desperately as you tried to shake your head to deter to him, to stop him, to let you find any other way to save yourself, he only smiled and nodded.
“I love you!” He shouted as his fingers moved into position.
“Buck, no!”
But it was too late as you watched his fingers snap in front of your very eyes.
Thanos dropped you from his grasp immediately upon the colorful blast exploding around your husband. You scrambled to your feet as you ran over to him, dropping to your knees as soon as you saw his frail body lying amidst the rubble.
You had seen Bucky in pain more times than you could count, but you had never seen him so weak, so colorless, so... so lifeless.
You felt your lip tremble as you examined him.
The vibranium had burnt into the skin up his neck and across his chest, his pupils blown and blood dripping from his mouth. You rested your hands on his chest and ran them up his skin to cup his cheeks and when you did, you let out the sobs you hadn’t even realized you were holding in.
“Buck?” You called, as his eyes focused on you. “James. James, you can’t leave me okay? I- I can’t do this without you. I... I didn’t have enough time. I need you. I need you to stay with me.”
You knew it was impossible. You knew there was no way he would ever be able to come back from this, but your heart wouldn’t let him go. You couldn’t let him go.
As his eyes began fluttering shut, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into your embrace, your face falling into the crook of his neck.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?” You sobbed. “I love you. I love you, okay? I’ll find you this time, James. I’ll find you. I love you.”
As Sam felt the ground rumble beneath his feet, he turned around, only to notice that the house behind him was surrounded in the familiar golden glow of your magic- the siding floating in the air as the house came apart in front of him- floating in the midst of your energy.
“Shit!” He cursed, rushing into what was left of left of your house. “Y/n!”
Running through your foyer, Sam watched as the staircase in front of him began falling apart in front of his very eyes. As the floorboards separated from one another, Sam swallowed and with a running start hopped onto the first step, and then another- nearly losing his footing before getting the hang of it and making it up the rest of the way.
“Y/n!” He shouted once more.
As the walls came apart briefly, he saw your sunken figure on the floor of yours and Bucky’s shared bedroom, the air spinning around you as objects were thrown across the room by an invisible force.
Watching his footing, Sam hopped from floorboard to floorboard before shoving open what was left of your bedroom door and rushing to your side, dodging your night stand along the way.
When he fell to his knees behind you he was almost afraid to stop you, but watching his broken friend hunched over on the floor sobbing, he knew what needed to be done.
“Y/n?” Sam said, laying his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n, listen to me-”
“It can’t be over, Sam.” You said between sobs, gripping the watch tighter in your hands. “I wasn’t ready-”
“You’re never really ready, Y/n.” Sam said, shuffling around to kneel in front of you. “But you can’t bring him back-”
“But what if I can?”
Sam’s eyes widened in horror at your proposition as he adamantly shook his head and squeezed your shoulder.
“You can’t Y/n.” Sam said. “Even if you could bring... bring something back... that wouldn't be Buck. He wouldn’t want you to do that.”
Heeding Sam’s words you nodded and looked up to meet his eyes. Staring around you at the mess you’d caused, the world still spinning around you, you glanced down at the watch and back to Sam before another sob escaped your throat.
“It’s not fair.”
He had never seen you so completely and utterly shattered and it broke his heart just to look at you.
Nodding along with your words, Sam moved his hands from your shoulders to your back and pulled you into his embrace. As soon as he did, you quickly wrapped your arms around him, sobbing into his black suit jacket.
“I know,” He said running his hands up and down your back. “I know.”
As Sam opened his eyes from soothing you, he watched as the house slowly began to fall back into place as your breathing slowed. The floorboards began sliding in one next to the other, while the light that had been pouring in quickly dimmed as your walls built themselves up once again. Sam watched in awe as the clothes on your floor found themselves back on hangers in your closet and your sheets folded themselves neatly on your mattress.
When everything had settled in your once dilapidated house, only the music on the record player downstairs still floating throughout your home, Sam pulled away.
“I know it’s hard and none of us can ever replace him,” Sam said. “But you’re not alone, okay? We’re all here for you.”
Sniffling, you nodded your head.
“Alright?” He said shooting you a closed smile. “Let’s get out of here for a bit, okay? I always thought this place was a little stuffy anyway.”
Letting out the first hint of a smile in days at your friend’s poorly timed joke, you shook your head and wiped the tears from your cheeks.
As Sam pushed himself up and off the floor in front of you, he reached out his hand for you and pulled you up. When you stood up and adjusted your dress, you brushed by Sam to your dresser where your wedding ring sat, it’s pair now hanging on a necklace with your lost lover.
You had taken it off before meeting up with everyone to bring half of humanity back. You hadn't wanted to lose it, but now as you held it in your hands again, you felt as though a piece of your husband still lived on within you. You could almost find peace in it.
Slipping the ring back onto where it belonged, you followed Sam out of your bedroom and down the stairs, making your way to his truck that he had driven you home from your husband’s funeral service in.
Although you couldn’t explain it, each step you took felt as though another part of you had returned. Just as you were about to cross the threshold, playing with the band on your left finger, you almost felt as if you were whole again. As if Bucky hadn’t left you. As if there wasn’t a gaping hole in your chest from his loss that you could feel the emptiness of every time you tried to breathe.
Then, you stiffened as you heard a familiar voice speak over the sound of “It’s Been A Long, Long Time” that had been floating from the record player into the foyer.
Slowly turning around, your heart stopped.
“Doll?”
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#Bucky Barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes blurb#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes x you
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
characters dealing with a deep sleeper! s/o (_ _)。゜zzZ
characters: bokuto, oikawa & saiki k
tw// swearing, fluff, mentions of death, illness, funerals, sexual references
Kōtarō Bokuto
he literally thought you died
this was your first time sleeping over at his home and last night, y’all were stuffing your faces with treats until your stomachs ached
you had mentioned several times how you were feeling sick - even after bokuto took you out for a late-night run - but he just told you to take a pain-killer and sleep it off
but now he was kinda regretting not calling someone to help
like what if the sickness was a symptom to a deadly disease which took you overnight?
plus, he had tried everything he could think of to wake you up: he shook you, he blasted music from his phone, he opened the curtains to allow blinding light to shine on you, he flicked spits of cold water onto your face and he literally wafted cookies around the room in hopes you’d catch the scent
but it was no use as even after all that, you didn’t move an inch
he tried to check your pulse which he believed to be on the wrist but he couldn’t think it
so either he was too stupid to find the exact location or......you didn’t have a pulse
he’ll admit, it was an eerie thought that there could be a dead person in his bed rn but even he considered that a rather outlandish idea
how could a person as healthy as you just die overnight? so he did what any reasonable person would do in that situation-- no, not call a doctor
he held a funeral for his beloved s/o 💀
he gathered all five of the plushies laying around his room (all of which were owls) and lined them up on the foot of the bed
‘we are all gathered here today to celebrate the epic life of my partner, (y/n) (l/n).’ he sobbed into the sleeve of the black blazer he had pulled out of his closet, ‘gone too soon.’
silence. but in his mind he was met by a chorus of ‘aww’s and whimpers from the crowd
‘i loved them. (y/n) was my rock; they helped me through some of the hardest points in my life--’
his speech was cut off upon hearing one of the audience members pipe up, ‘bo, what are you doing?’
a wave of excitement washed over him as he scurried up to the line of guests, closely examining each one, ‘i didn’t know y’all could talk!’
you rolled your eyes before leaning forward and gently tapping the back of his head, ‘it’s me.’
upon laying his eyes on you, healthy and alive, his lips curled into a foolishly large grin as he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, ‘(Y/N), you’re alive!’ he cried
you gasped at his rather dramatic reaction before slowly melting into his embrace, ‘yes, i am.’
as your lips parted from the skin of his jaw and he slowly let his arms fall from your waist, you finally inquired, ‘did you hold a funeral for me?’
bokuto’s eyes-widened at your ‘crazy’ suggestion, ‘uhhhh, nooooo.’
if his elongating of each word wasn’t enough to show that he was lying, the dead giveaway would have to be the sheet of A4 paper with ‘(Y/N)’S FUNERAL ��’ written on it that was stuck to the door with blu-tac
ignoring his completely false reply, you leaned back on the bed and picked up on the owl plushies, gently stroking it’s soft fur, ‘are these the guests? why are there only five?’
bokuto shrugged, picking up one himself and absentmindedly attempting to balance it on your head, ‘seven; if you count me and you.’
you giggled, about to make a inquire about the names of each guest until bokuto suddenly through his arms around you again
‘why didn’t you tell me that you are such a deep-sleeper before?! i was so worried - i thought you died! please never die on me again, (y/n)?’
you smiled, pulling back to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, ‘i promise.’
Tōru Oikawa
he would take advantage of this opportunity lol
the first time y’all slept over together as a couple, he had no idea that you were as deep of a sleeper as you actually are
like he thought you meant ‘i sometimes sleep through my alarms’ deep-sleeper
NOT ‘IT TAKES A WHOLE NATURAL DISASTER TO WAKE ME UP IN THE MORNING’ DEEP-SLEEPER (/h)
anyway, at first, he’d probably just freshen up while you sleep: take a shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, floss etc so he’s no longer effected by that ✨morning crust ✨
but when he pokes his head out of the bathroom and noticed that your sleep asleep, he tries to blow-dry his hair bc he knows how much you like it when it’s all fluffy
but his blow-dryer was quite loud so he put it on for a few seconds to see if it’s wake you up and just as he expected, you were still sound asleep
so he blew-dry his hair until it was that soft texture that you liked so much- all while you were still like (∪.∪ )...zzz even though the blow-dryer was making a racket
you were still sleeping and upon looking at the time, he realised that it was completely fair considering it was currently half past 8 and he had just woken up extremely early for some unknown reason
he didn’t want to wake you so he was just doing to go out for a run or make breakfast until he caught a glimpse of himself in mirror
o.O
despite his puffy hair and pearly-white smile, he still looked sloppy
but it was definitely bc of his stained, torn, washed-out pyjamas tbh
he was just wearing an old T-shirt that he’s had for god-knows how long and a pair of grey sweatpants; it wasn’t a look
he had no idea what possessed him to wear such casual nightwear while you were at his house - especially when you chose to wear something so relaxed yet titillating - but he knew that he needed to change
after a while of rummaging through his nightwear drawer, the best he could find was a pair of white, silk, loose-legged trousers which he had bought for a halloween costume many years ago
it was pretty classy though :)) he was sure that you’d like it
however, he still couldn’t find anything to wear on his top half but there is no fashion problem oikawa can’t solve
thus, he went shirtless ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
he also threw on some jewellery too, just for the lols
you weren’t awake yet thought, so after he set up some candles to create a ‘mood’, he just sat next to you on the bed, scrolling on his phone and anticipating your reaction once you woke up
for a moment, he thought that he might’ve went when too far but upon taking a look at himself in his front-facing camera, he realised that there was no harm in spicing things up
once he noticed one of your eyes slowly flutter open, he quickly tossed his phone to the side and turned his body to face you, shooting you a kind smile and he gently ran a hand through his fluffy hair, ‘morning, angel~’ he cooed
you grumbled your greeting in response, then proceeded to rub your eyes to make sure you were seeing him correctly, ‘what are you wearing, tōru?’
‘can a guy not dress up for his special someone anymore?’
you rolled your eyes, playfully slapping his chest and going to hop out of bed until he pulled you back down against the sheets
a faint gasp escaped your lips but you were quickly hushed by oikawa pushing his finger against your lips, ‘you’re not going anywhere, (y/n).’
Kusuo Saiki
this was the first time you ever slept over at his house or next to him yet y’all had been dating for year and a half
he was just scared that he might accidently do something crazy in his sleep (bc of his powers ofc) and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you 🥺
you were patient with him though but bc y’all had never woken up together before, he had no idea how deep of a sleeper you are
he thought it was cute at first bc you were laying there like the beauty you are, lookin’ all serene and calm and stuff
but after a while, he got bored on his own #•̀ ︿ •́
also, you promised to bake macarons with him for breakfast and he was hungry as hell, still he didn’t want to eat without you but if he didn’t wake you up rn to make macarons, he’d surely starve to death while they were in the fridge
on any other day, he’d just try do it himself but when you helped him make food- it just hit different 😍
‘(y/n), wake up.’ he spoke into your mind using his telepathy, while light nudging your arm, ‘i’m hungry.’
you didn’t reply, seeming completely knocked out
he tried the next best thing, holding his annoying alarm noise near (but not too close) to your ear
still nothing, though
his last human attempt was aggressively pulling your blanket away but even after that you showed no signs of waking up so he realised that he’d have to resort to using his physic abilities
he considered using his astral projection to possess your body but he felt as though taking over your body might cross a few boundaries
but he did try duplicating himself so he could shake you from many different angles but it was still no use
he continued to use his telepathy to try wake you up but it didn’t seem to work either
after multiple different attempts of using his powers to try wake you up; here he was, standing in the middle of some dystopian, apocalyptic scene - alarms ringing in the distant along with sirens, screaming, honking and wails. everything around him seemed to be engulfed by flames which created thick, smoky air
he wasn’t really sure how he got here but he was pretty sure it started around the time he tried to form an energy ball
whatever 🤷♂️ it’s no biggie
he jumped back in time so he was standing next to your bed once again, exactly where he left off before he created the energy ball
he stared down at your sleeping figure and let out an exasperated sigh as he realised that he’d have to employ one of his most dangerous tactics
he really hoped it didn’t have to come to this
‘(y/n), if you get up right now.’ his voice rung through your head, ‘i speak with my voice.’
just like that, both of your eyes shot open as you hastily sat up on the bed
‘do it, saiki!’ you cheered, a foolishly large grin plastered on your features
and he couldn’t help but smile too
curse you for being so cute
#bokuto#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#oikawa x you#oikawa x y/n#bokuto x reader#bokuto fluff#saiki k x reader#saiki x y/n#saiki x reader#saiki fluff#oikawa torū#oikawa x reader#haikyuu x gn!reader#bokuto x y/n#bokuto x you#oikawa fluff#oikawa scenarios#kusou saiki#oikawa tooru#kōtarō bokuto
757 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reaction 14: Walking in on you.
[Masterlist]
If you have any reactions you would like to see send them via asks and I will write them when I can.
WARNING: This is SMUTTY!
Seokjin:
You had been stressed and you needed relief, you could have gone to Seokjin for help but sometimes you wanted alone time. Seokjin was great. He went above and beyond for you but it was nice to feel cheeky to feel dangerous. Like he could walk in at any moment.
What you didn’t expect was for him to walk in at this moment. He walked in and slapped a hand over his eyes, “jagiya!” He whined peeking out from between his fingers.
“Yes my love?” You groaned, not bothering to stop, your hands gripped the sheets as you looked at him.
“Ya, stop,” he whined “I can’t talk to you knowing your doing this”
“Then don’t talk to me,” you gasped. He climbed onto the bed and took the remote from beside you turning it off. “Hey woah woah what are you doing no Jinnie I was so close.”
Your voice went weak as you saw the dark look in his eyes, “oh, how the tables have turned my sweetheart, do you want Oppa to let you finish?”
Yoongi:
You knew he did it whenever he got the urge but it was rare, for you the urge was often and you didn’t want to bother him it would be too annoying to stop him at work all the time.
So taking matters into your own hands you brought a toy hoping it would help you unwind. It was a couples toy which you wanted to buy in the hopes Yoongi would use it with you.
But as you had just ordered it then it wouldn’t come for another week even with the express post. So you were left on your own, it was a little disappointing after seeing all the fancy devices that you could be using.
You were so close and decided to just move into the perfect position where you would feel your orgasm the best but when you opened your eyes and turned you saw Yoongi leaning against the bedroom door. Watching you with his dark eyes.
Hoseok:
Hoseok was amazing. He was happy, energetic, kind, funny, loving and in the bedroom he was hot as hell. His only flaw was being a little naive, what were you supposed to think when he sent you a video of himself dancing and when he finished the routine he would be panting walking to the camera his singlet stuck to his chest.
Maybe it was your flaw? Thinking he was sexy all the time, you were insatiable. Hoseok had sent you another video and you were unable to stop yourself reaching into your top draw and finding out your favourite toy, you were watching the video over and over and you were so close.
“Hands off what is mine, jagiya” he said and you froze removing the toy with a few whimpers. “You have been naughty”
“No, I haven’t even finished yet,” you said trying to think up a plausible lie, “I was just preparing for you”
He undressed climbing over you, “Well now that you are ready, let me show how I discipline naughty girls.”
Namjoon:
You had been throwing hints all day, shaving your legs and washing and styling your hair early that morning. Even wore his favourite lipstick. You picked out your best lingerie and put on a really short dress. You bent over, leaned down, stretched to the highest cupboards and Namjoon didn’t get the hint.
Was it always this difficult to seduce your man, you frowned at the end of dinner when he showered and went to read in bed. You decided to make it obvious, stepping out of the shower in a towel, you sauntered to the bed. You dropped the towel and laid down on the bed and he still didn’t notice.
You frowned, what book was he reading that was more important than you. Sighing audibly you decided that you would just have to have fun on your own tonight. You couldn't expect Namjoon to be horny and ready every night. Slipping your hand under the bed you found an old friend. You walked out of the room to Namjoon’s office and sat in his big desk chair.
You had your feet on the desk knees pressed to your chest and was trying to orgasm quickly. You could feel the batteries starting to drain. Using your imagination and willpower you tried your hardest to orgasm when the door opened Namjoon’s face poking through the door. “Hey, where did you go-OH!”
The batteries died and you frowned, head falling back against the desk chair, panting. “Why do the batteries decide to die now!” You whined legs falling to the floor. You pressed your forehead against his desk and tried to cool down the blush on your cheeks.
“Well, I don’t know if you wanted this to be a personal thing but, I don’t require batteries” Namjoon stepped out from behind the door to reveal his tented boxers.
Jimin:
You were quite embarrassed about your sex drive it was a lot and you mostly dealt with it on your own quickly and quietly. Jimin was a very sensual creature and he seemed a little down. When you kept your sex life pretty minimalistic, you wanted to tell him but you knew he would say it was okay and that you should let him help but he would get sick of you.
You were in your room he wouldn’t be back for a while he was filming RUNBTS you took the opportunity to get yourself off a few times.
You put your vibrator inside you and came a few times and leaving it in you started cooking dinner. You paused between cutting vegetables to orgasm again and you clutched the bench and moaned.
You stirred the dinner and heard a cough. You turned to Jimin who hugged you, his cheeks red. “Are you feeling okay love, you sounded in pain?”
You blushed but he lifted your skirt at the buzzing sound and frowned “baby do I not satisfy you?”
“Jimin, you satisfy me so much, I just don’t want you to get sick of me or think that I only like your body. I love you”
He nodded “I wouldn’t get sick of you are you sure it’s not cause I am terrible in bed.”
“Jiminie,” you turned of the stove “let me show you how much I love you and when I am done tell me if it’s too much”
He looked at you a little nervous and nodded letting you lead him to the bedroom for a long night. “Hey Hobi I can’t come in today?”
“Why not?”
“Y/n broke my pelvis. My back is killing me”
“I’m sorry” you said to him. “I shouldn’t have”
“Darling I want it like that every night” he grinned “you riding me until we both can’t walk”
“Eww hang up first” Hobi muttered in disgust.
Taehyung:
You don’t know why but the feeling snuck up on you while you had friends over you wanted nothing but to feel some sweet release. You couldn’t exactly tell your friends that you wanted to borrow your boyfriend for a quickie.
Instead you made an excuse about a stomach ache and heading to the bathroom upstairs. You locked yourself in your room and tried to be quick hoping no one would come check on you. You had this really great vibrator that always made things quick. You were almost there, you could almost feel it when you heard a scoff.
“Jagiya,” Taehyung reached between your legs to remove the toy. He twisted the bottom of the device and took out the batteries. “You can wait, can’t you darling for me.”
He smirked, taking your underwear off the floor and slipping them in his pocket. He grabbed you by the wrist and led you out the door. Making sure to fix your dress back into position. “You can wait can’t you love?”
Jungkook:
Jungkook was playing video games when he heard noise from the room, you sounded hurt, had you fallen or were you feeling sick. You weakly cried out his name and he threw open the door to see you on the bed. Jungkook’s face turned bright red and he bowed ninety degrees. “I’m sorry” He left immediately and went back to his games room. He sat down, trying to calm his racing heart and looked down at the bulge in his pants.
#bts#bangtan sonyeondan#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts smut#btscreatorscorner#bts x reader smut#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#jin x reader#suga x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#bts x reader imagines#bts x reader reactions#bts smut imagines#bts smut reactions
535 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heeey what do you think was that made Kevin finally leave the nest?
I wrote like a 2k word fic-of-an-answer to this one my friend but I wasn’t vibing with it! So I’m starting again. But same thing as the last draft of this answer; I think about Kevin leaving the nest ALL THE TIME
~
(“Keep mouthing off like a pair of fucking frogs.” Riko spat in English to them both. When Jean shut the door, “Do you think you’re better than I am?”
“Your ego will kill you someday.” He looked Riko in the eye. “I think you care too much about other people’s success to make yourself look better. You’re building your Court,” Kevin swallowed hard, still trying to hold his head up, gravity failing him as he started to tremble. “But you think it’s just guaranteed you’ll be on it.”)
~
Mandatory CW for The Breaking Of A Hand and Kevin Has Nothing To Live For. See also: the foxes are foxes and their lives are Fucked Up (suicide mention, overdose mention, panic attacks & drug use)
Okay.
Let’s. Talk. About. Kevin.
Idk if I’m allowed to say that Kevin is an underrated character. I really don’t think I am. But if I was allowed to say that I WOULD. I am so very passionate about Kevin I would absolutely die for him and he’s not even real. So let’s talk about his hand.
Can you even begin to imagine what was going through Kevin’s head that night? It looked like practice, then The Master talking about potential, then Riko is mad, then pain and blood and how do I get out of here? Then is it worth it if my life is over?
I think there probably was a minute where Kevin sat alone, covered in his own blood, just thinking there was no point in being alive anymore. His playing hand didn’t really look like a hand anymore, his life and reputation and everything he had worked for just pumping out of his hand and staining his shirt. He didn’t remember passing out but when he came to Riko was gone, and his body was running on fumes trying to keep the pain from overwhelming his system. He probably threw up, all over the locker room, his blood trickling through the tiles, the echo of his own screams ringing through his ears like a non-stop siren. He probably couldn’t really see properly for a little bit and he probably couldn’t move for a while, either. Riko was a foot shorter than him, but he made up for that difference by channeling every ounce of anger and jealousy he felt for Kevin into his feet to stomp the shit out of Kevin’s hand until he knew he would never play again. Jean found Kevin not long later, maybe a couple minutes, or an hour. Kevin begged him to get Riko out of his room. Jean wrapped Kevin’s hand up as best he could, and promised him to deal with it as long as Kevin was there when he got back. Jean had figured he was a flight risk, and knew if Kevin left, Riko’s French personal punching bag would come in handy to take out all his egotistical frustration on. Kevin promised he’d be there when Jean came back. Jean came back to his jacket and wallet missing, a tiny scrap of paper left on the bed, an almost illegible ‘sorry’ scrawled across it. He burned it in the bathroom sink before Riko could find it.
So Kevin’s in his car, and he’s driving. He doesn’t know where yet, and man, is he a hazard. Twice on his journey he nearly knocked out behind the wheel, his head bobbing as the pain begged his body to sleep. He probably had to pull over a couple times to be sick, or to have a panic attack, or both. I know he went through the stages of grief on that drive to Virginia. He probably turned on his radio at some point and laughed, how ridiculous he looked, how dangerous it was to be driving one handed. It took him double the amount of time it would normally have because he just. Had to keep stopping. There’s no way he made that journey in a solid drive.
But also I think he probably didn’t have a plan before he was driving. He knew the Southeastern district were holding the Christmas banquet that night, but that was a secondary thought. His first worry was getting out of the nest. His second worry was whether he was going to kill himself or not. The reason he didn’t just do it? David. The thing that pulled Kevin back off that metaphorical ledge was Coach David Wymack. The only other people who knew about his moms letter were Tetsuji, Jean and Riko. Kevin knew well that none of them would be calling up to break the news to Wymack if he died, and David would grow old and die without ever having known that Kevin Day was his son. David was the reason he was risking everything on busy streets and highways and whatever roads he drove too fast or too slow on.
So, he’s in Virginia without a plan. He doesn’t know what hotel David’s in, if he’s even still in Virginia, if the foxes even bothered to show up. So he looks at as many hotels as he could find. He narrows down the list by looking at the ones he knew the Class I teams frequented, and he called the all pretending to be David, looking for his rooms number. After the fifth call he found it.
Think about Kevin’s anxiety in the elevator, hand throbbing, not profusely bleeding anymore, but every minute that passes is a percentage off the chances he has at keeping his hand and playing again. His heart is racing, his head heavy, every fibre in his being screaming.
David calls out a “Hold your fucking horses, give me a minute!” when Kevin knocks on his door a second time after his first knock received no answer. David opens the door with Abby just behind him, and his face falls so quickly it could’ve hit the floor.
“Kevin.” He looks him up and down, not yet noticing the t-shirt covered in blood he had wrapped around his hand. “Kevin Day. Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”
Abby pushes past him to unwrap Kevin’s hand. It must be some nurses instinct, to be instantly drawn to looking for an injury on a person. Kevin pulled it back as gently as he could, looking up and down the hall before asking so quietly it almost couldn’t be heard. “Can I come in?”
David makes small talk with Kevin as he shuts the hotel door behind him. What would he say? What could he possibly say to superstar Kevin Day, who he’d only officially met as a baby, when his mother was alive and he wasn’t destined for Court? He probably tried to make meaningless, awkward small talk until Abby shut him up to ask Kevin what happened. He just started to cry. Small whimpers into chesty, heaving, heavy cries, his body teetering on the edge of a panic attack. David had seen his foxes in bad ways before. He’d seen one of his kids convulsing on a stretcher after an accidental overdose, or a fox who’d choked on their own vomit after an intentional one. He’d seen his foxes in their worst moments, panic attacks and withdrawals, anger and sadness, pulling their hair out and on the brink of death. Something about this was the same but different. When Seth first overdosed on the team it was a cry for help, or when Janie admitted herself to the psych ward for a week, it was because she wanted to try. When Damien asked for a second, and third, and fourth chance David gave it to him because that was what Foxes deserved. It took him a moment of watching Kevin heave, snot and spit running down his chin, his hair falling over his face, his body shaking with anxiety, to remember that Kevin wasn’t a fox. Kevin was a Raven, and by god, that was so much worse.
I think we all know that Abby cares for her foxes like she’s their mother, but Kevin is just different. Abby had been seeing David long enough to know how much Kayleigh Day had really meant to him, and how much it hurt to watch Kevin do her proud. Now Kevin was sitting in front of her, his hand practically lifeless, his heart pouring out of every place it could. She tried not to look at David’s face as he paced the room, watching her patch up Kevin’s hand as best she could. Kevin only started to calm down when she handed him a bottle of Diazepam and some water.
And then Kevin whispers that Riko did it. David almost didn’t hear him. He nearly asked for him to repeat it until it hit him. Riko did it. Riko smashed the hand of his number two so badly it would take a long time for him to play again, if he even wanted to. Abby sent him a deathly glare when he mumbled to himself; “I’ll kill that little jumped up piece of shit”.
The rest is history; Kevin passes out not long after, David carries him to the bus, and they drive to the stadium to pick up the foxes. Kevin sleeps the rest of the way until the sun is starting to rise and they’re back in South Carolina. Kevin doesn’t stop crying on and off again for a couple days, and Abby had to hold him back from escaping more than once. After watching his anxiety consume him, and when he told her none of the Ravens were allowed to be medicated in any manner, she got him a script for some quick-acting anxiety meds for him to keep. It took him a week of energy-sapping panic attacks before she could convince him to actually take them as he needed them.
David took out a loan five days after Kevin had arrived into his care. He called Edgar Allan on the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth day. By the ninth day Kevin was released from the grips of Ravens. By the tenth day they had started the process of making Kevin Day a fox. I suppose it’s for the best Riko fucked up his hand so badly, isn’t it? At least it gave him the ability to fit into the eligibility criteria for being a Fox. Welcome to the club, Kevin Day, and prepare to be gravely disappointed.
#KEVIN DAYYYYYYY#mY boy#rambles#Kevin day#David wymack#tfc#aftg#Riko Moriyama#all for the game#the foxhole court
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Til death do us part | Helmut Zemo
Bodyguard AU! 🕶
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
Warnings: Blood. Stabbing. Character death.
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Part 14
They had to pry him away from you. The ambulance had finally arrived. Steve and Bucky needed him to let go of you. He wouldn't at first, but when they told him help had arrived, he let go, but not before leaving a lasting soft kiss on your forehead.
Any softness, love, or friendly demeanor he had left melted away.
Colonel Zemo was here, and he would stay here until Walker lay dead at his feet. Helmut was messing around any more.
Leaving you lying there hurt, but he couldn't waste any time. He barely spared Bucky and Steve a glance as he walked out of the room. He looked down the hall to where he believed Walker had gone.
Walker was still on the property, he was sure of that. He walked down the hall, ignoring the calls of his name.
Steve and Bucky let him go.
His hands were clenched into fists ad he walked, seemingly, calmly down the hall and around the corner.
He would have time to mourn later.
He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but he would keep on going until he found any sign of Walker. His breathing was even, his steps calm and collected, his eyes focused ahead, despite how red they were.
He catches sight of something out the window. These windows over looked the garden. Though it was pretty much bare due to him having not the heart after Heike to have anything beautiful on site, he could still say the view from here was amazing. You could see quite far during the day.
Standing there, smiling up at him, was John Walker.
"Bastard."
Helmut turns away from the window and continues walking. He walks down the staircase, ignoring the fuss happening around his home.
He heads toward the door. Before he goes outside, he eyes the weapon on the wall just off to the side. His home was decorated with many things, and down here he had a sword up in the wall. It was a gift from his father years ago. It had been on display ever since.
He took it carefully from the wall.
Helmut heads outside slowly. Walker is still standing where he had been before. He was just waiting for Zemo.
The sword glistens in the low light. Zemo holds it with confidence.
Walker grins.
"I've been waiting for this," Walker states, staring at the other man in front of him.
Helmut glares at him.
"I told you, oh so long ago, that I would take away everything that made you happy. How does it feel to open up to someone and let them in, only to have them ripped away from you so quickly?"
"I will kill you."
"I will kill you," Walker said, pointing at him.
Helmut held up the sword.
Walker only has a gun on him. He holds it up.
"You brought a sword to a gunfight."
"You will die the same way they did. I will stand here and watch you bleed out until all your life drains away."
Walker smirks.
"I'd like to see you try."
Helmut takes a swing of his sword. Walker steps back to avoid it. He laughs mockingly as Helmut swings again.
Though Zemo moves with the skill of a practised swordsman, Walker is quick on his feet to avoid being hit. He lives how riled up Zemo was. This is exactly what he wanted.
Swing. Step. Dodge. Laughter.
Swing. Step. Dodge. Laughter.
"Come on, hit me Zemo!"
Helmut remains calm. He stares at Walker with plenty of focus. He holds the sword up still.
"You're a weak man, Zemo."
"And you're pathetic."
Walker let's out a loud laugh.
"Is this the worst you can do?"
Helmut moves with sudden speed and ease. Walker isn't entirely sure what happened, but before he knows it, Helmut has him pinned up against the nearest wall with the sword pressed into his chest. He can feel the blade digging into him lightly.
"Clever."
"Do not underestimate a broken man," Helmut hisses.
Walker looks him in the eyes.
"You really did fall for them, didn't you?" He asks softly.
Helmut breaks right in front of them.
"More than anything. You took Heike from me and I thought I would never feel that way again. Then they show up. At first I thought they were wasting their time, but they saved me from you. I saw them a little differently after that, and thought, perhaps, this was the second chance I wanted. Perhaps I would have this person all to myself. Someone to love and care for."
Walker smirks.
"Then you took them from me. I should have stopped them from going after you. I should have pushed them down before they ever got the chance to do so to me. It's my blood you want, and they paid the price for it."
Walker laughs.
"Yeah, they did. You're a fool, Zemo. You can't look after anyone. Honestly, I can't decide on of I want to kill you, or let you live out the rest of your days a bitter old man. Both sound satisfying to me."
Helmut was seething.
In the blink of an eye he stabbed Walker with the sword. He did it so swiftly with so much pressure that it went through the other man.
Walker looked much the same as you did. Wide eyed and open mouthed.
He was in shock.
Zemo stabbed him.
The gun fell from his hands. He had been so focused on ruling Helmut up, he forgot about his own defence.
Zemo stood there, sword still planted into the other man, hands still on the hilt. He looked at Walker with emotionless eyes.
"I told you I would kill you."
Walker tries to say something, but he doesn't have the strength to. He can only watch as Helmut swiftly pulls the sword from the other man, letting him die the same way you did.
Walker collapses to the ground, hands trying to cover the wound, but to no avail. Helmut stands over him with a bloody sword. He stares at Walker with a cold gaze.
He does not care about the dying man in front of him.
He only cared for you.
His clothes were further stained with blood. Most of it was yours, but now there was some of Walker's on him.
Helmut planted the sword into the ground so it was upright.
Walker would die looking at the blade that took his life.
"I will never be whole," Zemo said, watching.
Walker looks up at him.
"I know," he says, quietly. He smiles.
The Colonel rages and gives Walker a solid kick to the stomach. The man curls in on himself in pain, groaning harshly.
Zemo kicks him again for good measure.
He stands there, watching. He has no idea how much time passes. Walker bleeds out slowly. Colonel Zemo watches the man die right in front of him.
By the time he returns to the house, all the guests are gone. He notices the ambulance is gone from out front.
Slowly, quietly, and without emotion, he walks upstairs. He walks through the hall. He walks toward the still open door.
He stops.
You're gone.
A pool of blood stains the carpet.
The Colonel fades away as Helmut Zemo kneels on the ground letting his tears fall. He gasps for breath with a harsh struggle as he clutches at the carpet.
You're gone.
You're dead.
There is nothing he can do about it.
There was no satisfaction in killing Walker because the bastard won in the end. He killed you. John took you from him.
Helmut Zemo stayed like that all night.
That was how Steve found him the next morning, laying on the floor near where you had been the night before.
"Sir?" His voice is soft.
Helmut stirs.
Steve crouched down next to the other man. He gives him a soft shake.
Helmut blinks a couple of times. He felt stiff and tired.
"Sir."
Helmut looks up at Steve and sits up slowly. His hair was a mess, his bloody clothes were askew.
He felt lonely and empty.
"Update," was all he said, voice rough and hoarse.
Steve stares at him, unsure on what to say.
"Update, Mr. Rogers."
"Walker's gang were all arrested last night. They had tried to stir up trouble with the guests, but we caught them all before they could escape. Walker's body was dealt with early this morning. I believe your life is no longer in any danger. Should you wish for us to stay, then just say the word, sir."
Helmut looks at him with empty eyes.
"Update, Mr. Rogers."
Steve sighed. He knew that wasn't what Zemo was asking for. There was no easy way to tell him any of this, but he had to.
"Y/N L/N died last night in your arms. They were dead when you left the room, before the ambulance even arrived. The body was moved quickly after you left."
Helmut feels the last remaining shards of his heart shatter into nothing.
It was true. You were dead.
He just wanted to dance with you. Kiss you. Confess to you.
That was all stolen from him.
"Leave me."
Steve didn't want to, but he knew Zemo meant it. The way he was looking at him told him as much.
Steve left the room.
The Baron's eyes drop to the pool of blood on the carpet. He hand rests right next to it.
This was all he had of you in his home now.
You were a part of his estate.
Helmut lies back down next to where you had been last night in his arms.
Now utterly alone, he cried.
These were the cries of a man who would never be happy again. The cries of a man whose heart would never heal. The cries of a man who would be forever alone.
John Walker won.
Helmut Zemo lost.
Even so, he would never regret falling in love with you. You, who came into his home and turned his life upside down. You, who would sit with him and have tea in his office. You, who would always be thinking about the job rather than his feelings.
If he was going to fall in love with anyone, he was glad it was with you.
@thesuitkovian @justfangirlthingies @belle82devart @anteroom-of-death @silverlambcaptain @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @lieutenantn @daniielbruhl @awesomesauce-abbie @latenightartist-author @lazygurl05 @rumblelibrary @nonamec0s @shura-gorl @ginger-abreu @caligrl1992 @livvyshmiv @luciadiosa @vverliebt @tatooineisdry @charistory @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @alex-the-nb @thewrongkhristol @hb8301 @the-chaotic-cow @mssennimatilda @uncomfortablebagel @fictionlandslanddreams @madhatter2727 @kinismanditory @the-webkinz-kier
123 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey it’s me again I was wondering if maybe you can do a part 2 to my request maybe Harry and reader catching up and explaining where she was and how the Malfoy’s took care of her all those years and like maybe some wedding planning and the actual wedding (maybe Narcissa or Harry kinda want Narcissa Bc she was like the mother she didn’t have those years walk her down the aisle but I bet why it would be Harry also ) and the vows maybe something to do with stars cuz I have this trope where Draco loves looking at the stars and they did that as a couple and maybe their honey moon. This can be just as long if you want I just really enjoyed the first one thank you so much!! 💙✨
The Potter Twins pt 2
A/n: This is going to be long... @loxbbg
Read part 1 here
"I'm going out, Dray." Y/n mentioned as she opened the front door. Draco jumped off the couch and raced over.
"Without a kiss?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Draco pulled her into his body by the belt loops of her jeans, holding her hips. Y/n leant up, placing her lips on his as she cradled his face.
Draco tried to deepen the kiss, parting his lips slightly.
Y/n pulled back from him. "I can't be late, Draco." She told him firmly, looking into his eyes. They were her favourite colour. If she could, she would gaze at them for the rest of her life. She was going to try.
"Where are you off to?" Draco questioned, realising he had no idea why she would be leaving before lunch.
"Having lunch with Harry," Y/n said, beaming.
It had been a week since the final feast. Y/n quickly filled Draco in on everything that they discussed. Draco was thrilled to know Harry didn't hate him and that the twins were making up. Y/n and Harry had been sending letters back and forth since.
They finally both had a few free hours to meet for lunch. Harry had suggested a muggle cafe near the entrance of Diagon Alley.
Y/n felt nervous as she walked into the cafe. It weakened when Harry got up to embrace her. It immediately made her feel better.
The twins sat down, eventually ordering some food. They could both tell the light-hearted conversation was about to get deep.
Harry asked the first question. "Where were you last year?" He asked.
Y/n signed before answering. "The last time I was at Hogwarts was when you and Draco duelled in the bathroom. Narcissa came. I thought she was there for him. But she said I had to leave with her right then. No one knew I was even leaving aside from Snape." She explained. Harry nodded along with her words, soaking it in. "After that, I went to one of the old Black Family houses. It was in the very South of England, right near a cliff. There were spells placed all over it so no one could find me. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were the only ones who knew."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Lucius?" He pushed.
It surprised Y/n how similar they were. It was the same question she'd thought of. "I didn't know until after the battle, but before the Quidditch World Cup, Narcissa had made an unbreakable vow with him that I wouldn't be hurt." She explained.
"Oh," Harry said with a nod.
Y/n could tell he was thinking about how Lucius had been Voldermort's second. "I know. He wasn't a good person." She affirmed. "He did hate me until very recently."
"I'm glad Narcissa did that," Harry told her. "I'm very grateful she declared I was dead, even if it was for Draco's benefit."
Y/n had only just found out about that. "She wanted Draco to be happy."
"So, you're close to her?" Harry shyly asked, not meeting her eyes.
Y/n nodded quickly. "Yeah. I probably owe her my life." She mentioned. Thankfully, they were able to laugh about it. "What happened to you after the duel?" She asked Harry.
He definitely looked like it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Guilty even. "Snape gave me detention for the rest of the year." Harry guiltily admitted. "I feel terrible about it now. He was standing there defenceless, and I just hit him with the Sectumsempra spell."
"He was crying," Y/n told Harry, making his face drop even more. "He knew what was about to happen."
"I had no idea," Harry admitted, feeling terrible about hurting Draco. "Was he alright?"
Y/n nodded. "Snape gave him the countercurse. I'm not sure what happened once I left him in the hospital wing, but he came to see me on the Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor Quiddich match."
"I can fill in some blanks?" Harry offered. Y/n quickly nodded, prompting him to continue. "Ginny and I got together." He mentioned, a blush forming on his cheeks as well as a smile. Y/n found it adorable how much he obviously loved her. "I served detentions. Then it was the 30th of June."
Y/n knew what part of the story was about to come up. Well, she knew what Draco knew. She anticipated finding out the other side.
Harry continued. "Dumbledore and I went to find the Horcrux. We did, destroyed it, and escaped. When we got back, Dumbledore froze me, but I watched him die." Harry let one tear slip out of his eyes.
"I'm sorry," Y/n told him, placing her hand on top of his. "Draco brought them in through the Vanishing Cabinet. He was tasked, by Voldermort, to kill Dumbledore."
"He didn't." Harry quickly shook his head. "He wasn't that morally corrupted. I've always admired him for not doing it." He confessed. "Snape had to do it, but then he fled."
"Dumbledore tried to protect you." Y/n realised. Harry nodded. "He knew you'd fight Draco."
Harry agreed, crying a few more tears. "Yeah, he knew he had to die. Snape was the half-blood prince. McGonagall became head then." Harry recounted.
"That was it?" Y/n asked.
Unfortunately, Harry shook his head. "No, there was a funeral. But I broke up with Ginny so she'd be protected."
"I'm sorry, H, that can't of been easy." Y/n apologised. Harry nodded sadly, still believing it was the right thing to have done. "Where did you go after that?" She asked, now curious about what Harry had been doing.
"On the run. Moody died over the summer, as well as Hedwig." Y/n felt terrible for him for that.
"Was it on the 27th of July?" Y/n asked him, remembering how weird Edwige acted that day. Harry nodded while looking confused. "Edwige was acting really odd." That made Harry smile at how similar their owls even were. "What else?" She asked.
Harry thought about it for a second, trying to recount the terrible events of the year. "I met Ted and Andromeda Tonks." He remembered. Narcissa's long-lost sister. She had spoken to Y/n about her, tears always in her eyes. There was also a photo of them, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda, on the mantlepiece. "Bill and Fleur got married. It was a beautiful wedding." Harry recounted. "But it was attacked by death eaters."
"That was the fall of the Ministry," Y/n added. "Rufus Scrimgeour died because he wouldn't tell them where you were." Harry rose his eyebrows, choking out a sob.
"After the wedding, we went to London. We got attacked by death eaters but wiped their memories." Harry recounted the challenging, scary fight. "We stayed at the Black family house, and I learnt about Regulus?"
Y/n had heard that name before from Narcissa. "Regulus Black? Wasn't he Sirius' younger brother?" She asked, having seen a family tree Narcissa kept.
Harry nodded. "He wasn't a death eater, although he pretended to be until he died." He informed her. "I argued with Lupin." Y/n's eyes widened, knowing how fond he was of Lupin. "He wanted to join the quest, but I really didn't think he should be abandoning their baby."
"Hold on. Baby?" Y/n asked, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Oh, yeah," Harry remembered he had fully explained that part of the story. "Tonks was pregnant. Teddy is the most adorable kid." He told her. Y/n smiled at how wide Harry was smiling. "We infiltrated the ministry to get the Horcrux Umbridge had." He told her. "Then we camped and moved around a lot."
Y/n wondered what it was like. She wondered if it was something Harry enjoyed.
"Ron left after a while. Before Christmas Hermione, and I visited mum and Dad's graves." Harry continued to tell her. "Ron came back, save me, and destroyed another Horcrux." He continued the story. "We went to see Mr. Lovegood, who told the Ministry where we were. But he also told us about the Deathly Hallows."
"What else?" She asked.
"In March, we got captured and taken to the Manor." Harry hesitantly told her, knowing it was going to be a sensitive topic. "Dobby died." He let another few tears slide. "But we escaped with Luna and the other prisoners."
Y/n didn't know what to say. "What was it like? Being trapped there?"
Harry wasn't sure he wanted to answer. "Bad. Bellatrix tortured Hermione." That hurt Y/n's heart. The thought of her long-lost friend being hurt.
"She was crazy," Y/n confirmed. Harry nodded sadly.
"Teddy was born, and then it was the battle," Harry told her the rest of the story. He assumed she already knew or didn't want to know what happened at the battle. And, he didn't want to tell her about the horrible events.
"I'm very proud of you." Y/n made sure to tell him. "I know mum and dad would be too."
"Did he take care of you?" Harry asked.
Y/n assumed he was referring to Draco. "Yes, always." She told him.
"And you love him?" He asked. Y/n didn't even have to think before she nodded. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Me too." She replied. "Ginny's good too?"
Harry unintentionally smiled. "The very best." He checked his watch, glasses tipping off his nose. "I should get going though, I've got to watch Teddy." Y/n only realised then that it was already 2pm.
"Oh, of course," Y/n said, getting up to give him a hug. "I'll see you again soon?" She asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, definitely."
Y/n turned back to him before he could leave. "Harry, will you come to the wedding. Ginny too?"
"I'd love to." He told her.
"Good. I'll see you later." Y/n waved goodbye to him before they both walked off in different directions.
Y/n used a portkey to get back to the Black house. She expected to have Draco waiting for her, but he wasn't there.
"Dray? Where are you?" She asked as she closed the front door and looked around. He wasn't in the lounge where he usually was.
"Kitchen." The reply came. She made her way there to see Draco and Narcissa sitting around the crisp white kitchen island. "Leave while you still can," Draco told her, a smirk on his lips.
Narcissa quickly fixed that with a slap on his arm. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, that is not something my future daughter-in-law would do." She told him sternly.
Draco rolled his eyes, landing himself another slap. "Ow, child abuse." He squealed. Y/n giggled at their playful interaction. Narcissa just raised her eyebrows at him.
She turned to Y/n. "Come here, sweetheart." She ushered Y/n over into a hug. Y/n quickly wrapped her arms around Narcissa, savouring the moment.
When they pulled away, Draco was waiting with open arms for his fiancee. Y/n gave him a quick peck on the lips, which he, like always, tried to deepen.
She didn't let him, opting to pull away and look at whatever was on the kitchen island.
"We're wedding planning," Narcissa informed her. Y/n could see that, from the copious amounts of wedding reading material, inspiration photos, and to-do lists. It looked endless but exciting. "Take a seat." She commanded.
Y/n followed the instructions, going to get her own stool. Instead, Draco pulled her in to sit on his lap, resting his head on her shoulder and locking his hands around her waist to keep her steady.
Narcissa raised her eyebrows at her son, fearing Y/n would be a distraction for him. "I'll focus better, promise," Draco assured her, having seen that look before. She nodded slightly before starting through the whole binder.
"The first question is, when do you want to get married?"
The couple looked at each other. It wasn't something they had thought about. "Maybe winter?" Draco suggested.
Y/n nodded in agreement. "We did start dating in September when it started getting colder." She mentioned.
"Alright, so February or January?" Narcissa asked.
Draco nodded on her shoulder. "What about December 10th?" He asked.
Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at the mop of blonde hair on her shoulders. "Why that date?" She asked.
"We went to Hogsmeade together then," Y/n remembered now. No one knew they were dating apart from Blaise, Pansy, Theo, and Daphne, but they snuck off to kiss in the snow. She remembered how beautiful Draco had looked, freezing fingertips holding her face. She smiled at the memory and nodded.
Narcissa couldn't help but smile at them. They reminded her so much of herself and Lucius. Young and in love. "Alright. We've got about 5 months then." She said, opening the binder.
It was colour-coded with an index. Y/n could tell how excited Narcissa was.
"We're already out from where we need to be, so we've got a lot to get done." Narcissa sternly let them know. "To start with, we need a guest list." She told them, turning to the first page.
"Uh, well, Pans, Blaise, Theo, and Daph." Y/n started as Narcissa wrote.
Draco jumped in. "Those idiots Crabbe and Goyle. Whichever Black family members you want there."
Narcissa sighed. "Probably all of them then." She continued to jot down the rest of the names.
"Marcus Flint," Draco mentioned, thinking back to the old Quidditch captain. "Adrian Pucey too. Actually, just all of the Quidditch team." He told her.
"Harry, Ron, the whole Weasly family." Y/n continued on from Draco's list. "Hermione, Neville, Luna." Narcissa continued to write down the rest of the names they gave her.
They ended up with a list of well over 100.
"What about the Dursleys?" Narcissa questioned. It made Y/n tense.
Draco noticed and rubbed her hand. "Yes." She was hesitant to agree. "I'd like them to be invited, but I doubt any of them will come." At least then, she could say she had tried. "Could we have Andromeda and Ted Tonks too? With Teddy." She asked slowly, not wanting to upset Narcissa.
Narcissa nodded just as slowly. "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea." Y/n loved the idea that the sisters might make up. "Okay, perfect, so now we need a venue. It's going to have to be pretty big with all the people you want to have." Narcissa said, flipping a page.
Y/n looked at Draco and squinted her eyes. Draco tipped his head to show her he was thinking about it. She was so happy they were in it together.
"I'd love a castle." Draco declared.
Y/n could see it in her mind. A grand castle, fallen snow, fairy light. Grand and very Malfoy-like.
She nodded. "Yes, please." She looked back to Narcissa with a smile.
"Okay, I think I can make that happen. Are you thinking of a winter wonderland theme?" She asked.
Y/n shook her head. "Could we do a royalty theme?" She asked.
"Yes!" Draco cheered. Y/n could feel the excitement radiating off him.
"What does that look like?" Narcissa asked, still writing down ideas of what they wanted.
"Gold." Draco decided, making both the women giggle. "I mean golden chairs, chandeliers, white roses." He was definitely used to a certain life. And Y/n was ready to fit into it.
Narcissa nodded. "So very magnificent and exquisite." Draco and Y/n agreed with that. They both trusted her to know what she was doing. Plus, she would make sure she got exactly what they wanted. "So, that means you're going with a formal dress code."
Draco let Y/n have the lead on that. "I don't want a black or white tie dress code. I want formal, but I'd like to give a colour pallet."
Narcissa smiled. "Yes, I think it's a good idea. Just so everyone fits together in photos."
"Exactly." It was something Y/n had wanted since she saw the Dursley's wedding pictures. Different people in hundreds of different colours. That was not what she wanted.
Narcissa flicked a few more pages over. "Alright, what do you want for food?"
"A cake!" Draco exclaimed with a happy grin.
Y/n stroked a finger through his hair. "Obviously." She looked back to Narcissa with a smile. "I think a fancy sit-down dinner." She thought.
"It's like you read my mind," Narcissa commented with a laugh.
Y/n laughed back. "For desserts, I think a selection of lavish options. Maybe a cheesecake, panna cotta, something like that."
Narcissa nodded. "How about lemon meringue pie too."
Draco smiled, knowing it was his mother's favourite. "I think candy from Hogsmeade, too." He chimed in.
"Okay, we can do all of that. I think we should do fancy cocktails, too. Maybe a His and Hers one?" She suggested. Both of them quickly nodded. "Alright. I'm going to sort out all of the photographers, but what are you thinking for music?"
"String quartet for the ceremony, but I think something more fun after." Draco put in his own opinion. Y/n agreed with it.
Narcissa wrote down what he was telling her. "Lovely, so we are going to need to get booking a lot of appointments." She told them. "Firstly, wedding dress shopping. Y/n, we have an appointment in a month with a top London dress designer." Y/n's eyebrows raised, excited at that fact. "We're going to need to pick bridesmaid before the second appointment."
She already knew who she wanted. "Pansy as the maid of honour. Daph, Hermione, and Ginny."
Narcissa seemed surprised by how prepared she was but wrote the names down regardless. "Perfect. Just to get sidetracked, Draco, groomsmen?"
Draco raised his eyebrows and frowned. "Blaise as my main man and Theo. Let me think about the rest." He told her.
"So, we also need appointments for engagement photos, suit fittings, cake tastings, dress fittings, florists, and hair and makeup trials." She listed off. That idea made both Y/n and Draco stressed. There was so much to do.
"Maybe we just elope?" Draco suggested, nuzzled into Y/n's neck.
Narcissa raised one eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. "That's not funny." She told him seriously. It didn't stop the giggles coming out of his mouth.
"Okay, we've got save-the-dates to send out ASAP. I'll get that done." Narcissa told them. "Then you're going to need to register for gifts."
Draco clapped his hands. "Ooo, exciting."
"They're usually staples like sheets, pots, and pans." Narcissa wiped the smirk off his face with her playful taunt. "We've also got to find a place for the rehearsal dinner. And figure out a honeymoon."
"What do we need to do?" Y/n asked her, knowing Narcissa would be in charge of most of it. She wanted to make it as easy on her future mother-in-law as possible.
"Register for gifts, decide where you want to go on a honeymoon, write some vows and, Y/n, come to the dress fitting," Narcissa ordered them. Y/n and Draco both nodded in agreement. "I'm going to go back to the Manor then." She said, putting all of her copious amounts of paper away.
Y/n and Draco both gave her goodbye hugs. They thanked her for all she had done and was planning to do.
As soon as Draco had closed the door, he was tugging Y/n into him. His firm hands gripping her hips. He lent down to place his lips onto hers. It was rough and just the way she liked it.
"Mmm, Dray." Y/n moaned against his lips.
Draco smirked at her. "I missed you." He complained.
"Clearly." Y/n joked before pulling him back in for another kiss. "Wanna show me how much you missed me?" She asked, a shy smile on her face.
Draco couldn't help but nod rapidly before latching his lips back onto hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth. "Jump." He mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms around her hips.
Y/n complied, wrapping her legs around Draco's waist while he carried her to bed.
~
Wedding planning was time-consuming. While Narcissa was taking the lead, there was a lot for Y/n and Draco to do.
Her bridal fitting was one of the first events. Narcissa went with her to the first one, where she found a dress. It was layered floor length, with thin straps, lace, and sparkles. The perfect mix of traditional and glamourous.
As soon as she tried it on she knew it was perfect. The look on Narcissa's face reassured her it was the perfect one.
"Oh, wow. You look stunning." Narcissa let out, wiping a tear out of her eyes as she put a hand over her mouth. She got up off her seat to walk over and look in the mirror with Y/n. "You've grown so much since I met you." She mentioned, pushing a strand of Y/n's hair behind her ears.
There were tears in Y/n's eyes then too. "I think this is the one." She said a smile on her face.
Narcissa nodded. "It's absolutely flawless." She smiled, still admiring the younger girl.
They brought it that same day. It was staying at the Bridal store until the bridesmaids' fittings.
Y/n had decided she wanted silk green emerald dresses for the bridesmaids. Their fitting was only a month later.
"Y/n, you look great!" Pansy said, running up to her friend in the streets of London. Y/n embraced her with a smile.
Daphne hugged Y/n after. Then Hermione and Ginny turned up.
Y/n had seen them, a lot. More than once a week. It was like no time was lost between them. They fell quickly back into being friends.
Surprisingly, Y/n had introduced Hermione and Ginny to Pansy and Daphne, and they seemed to be getting on.
"Hi, you guys," Y/n said as she hugged Hermione and Ginny. She introduced them to Narcissa before they all went into the bridal shop.
"Okay, we have to see you in your dress first Y/n." Pansy cheered, already drinking her champagne.
Narcissa had insisted on the best, most private fitting. The whole store had been rented out for them so they could sit on the luxurious sofas and try on dresses.
Y/n nodded, running off to the changing rooms to dry the dress on. She couldn't help the giddy feeling in her stomach.
When she came out, all of their mouths dropped. She looked flawless.
"It's stunning." Hermione was the first to speak, the rest of them nodding with what she said.
Y/n did a little turn for them, eliciting more gasps.
When she changed back into her normal clothes, she went to show them the bridesmaids' dress options.
They were mismatched shades of blue. A dusty blue, teal blue, ocean blue, and blueberry blue.
"It's so pretty." Ginny agreed.
"I want to see you all in them," Y/n commanded with a giggle before she handed out the dresses.
Pansy walked out in the darkest blue, Hermione in dusty, light blue, Ginny in teal, and Daphne in ocean blue. Y/n knew she had picked it perfectly.
From the hugs, compliments, and squeals of excitement, it was clear they did too.
Draco's suit was black with a light blue tie. He had wanted to go for any shade of green, but Y/n thought blue suited the theme better.
Narcissa helped them cross all of the things on their list of wedding-to-dos.
~
Quickly, it was the weekend before. The bachelorette party was at the Black family house in the south of France.
They took a portkey to get there. Y/n had never been there, but it was grand and overlooked the French Riviera.
"This is stunning!" Daphne said, looking around inside. It was magnificent. Stone walls and vines on the outside. There was a massive pool with a cabana. The architecture of the house was incredible.
The girls dumped their bags in their rooms before exploring. They counted 6 bedrooms.
"Oh, we should go in the pool!" Y/n yelled, stripping off into a bikini. The sun was out in full, heating the whole group's skin. The five of them lay by the poolside, occasionally taking a dip. By the end of the night, they were much tanner.
Dinner was a chance to get dressed up in white cotton dresses and walk to the marina to find dinner. They ate French food and far too much bread. There was also a lot of wine to drink and secrets to be shared.
The second day was spent out on a yacht sailing in the endless sun and crystal clear water. It was beautiful and peaceful.
"Are you excited?" Pansy rolled over to ask Y/n, stuffing a few grapes into her mouth as she sipped her wine.
Y/n nodded, not having to ask what she meant. "Beyond. Draco's the love of my life." She confirmed.
The third day in paradise was just as good. Unfortunately, they had to go home.
Draco was waiting for her at the door. "Baby." He grinned as she jumped into his arms.
"Hi, Dray." She replied as he spun her around. "How was your weekend?" At Draco's request, the boys had gone to Las Vegas because Draco wanted to 'do it right the first time, so he didn't have to do it again.'
He nodded. "I will admit, most of it's a blur." That made Y/n giggle. "But, it was great."
"You didn't get married?" Y/n asked him with a grin.
Draco just frowned. "Why would I do that?" He asked, not knowing about the muggle cliché.
"It's a muggle thing." She tried to explain, but his eyebrows were still furrowed.
Draco put her down, taking her stuff from her hands to their bedroom. Y/n followed him up there.
"I missed you, baby." He told her, scooping her up into another hug. He picked her up and dumped her on the bed, planting himself in between her legs.
"I've missed this." Y/n agreed, lacing her hands behind his neck to pull his face closer to hers.
~
The rehearsal dinner was at a Michelin star restaurant in central London. Apparently, Lucius had some connections in the muggle world.
A separate room was rented out, but Draco and Y/n kept it small. Narcissa, Lucius, Draco's grandmother, Harry, and the bridal party.
"Draco, we're going to be late," Y/n complained as Draco kissed down the top of her silk green dress.
He groaned as he pulled away, looking up at her with big eyes. "Can't we be late?" He questioned.
She shook her head. "Absolutely not. Now, put me down." She told him, unwrapping her legs from around his waist. They had a tendency for getting caught up in the moment.
Draco let her down, now towering over her.
"Let me fix your tie," Y/n told him, tightening the green silk. He had gotten his wish of some green.
Draco groaned. "Not so tight." He mumbled, causing Y/n to roll her eyes.
"You have to look impeccable," Y/n told him sternly.
"I always look impeccable." Draco declared with a wide smirk.
Y/n just rolled her eyes again before looking up at him. "You're ridiculous."
He pouted at that before reattaching their lips. "I love you, Mrs. Malfoy."
"I'm not Mrs. Malfoy yet." Y/n counted.
Draco looked at his watch. "You have less than 24 hours." He told her threateningly. "The time to run is now."
Y/n shook her head. "I don't want to lose this." She joked, holding up her ring finger. Draco pouted at that. "I'm kidding. I love you." She reassured him before kissing him again.
"Let's go," Draco told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her out the door.
They ended up in central London, thankfully not late to their own rehearsal dinner.
Narcissa and Lucius hugged both of them. Lucius' hugs were something Y/n still wasn't accustomed to, but she enjoyed them.
All of the bridal party turned up. They had seen each other during the day for the wedding rehearsal, but they were scrubbed up now.
"You look lovely, Y/n." Harry and Ginny complimented, coming over to hug the bride-to-be.
"Thank you." Y/n beamed.
She kept that smile on her face the whole night. Through Lucius' speech, dinner and dessert.
"Just before everyone heads off for the night, we do have one other thing," Y/n said after tapping her champagne flute.
Draco had raced off to collect the gifts they had to give to everyone.
When he came back, she continued. "Narcissa and Lucius, we've got these for you." Draco handed over the enormous bouquet of flowers and an envelope.
The older couple wrapped the younger in hugs. "Hotel bookings for next week in Southern Italy," Draco told them with a grin.
"Thank you both," Narcissa told them before sitting back down.
Y/n and Draco went around hugging each of the members of their bridal party and giving out the customised bottles of champagne they had designed.
Y/n and Draco were the left once their friends had, with Narcissa and Lucius.
"Mum, can we just go for a walk? I'll have her to her hotel room before midnight?" Draco begged Narcissa. He insisted on spending some one-on-one time with Y/n, and Narcissa couldn't say no to his pouting.
Narcissa agreed. "The girls are staying in her hotel suite, so you better have her back. Or you're going to be in big trouble with Pansy Parkinson." She warned, looking at him with stern eyes.
Draco gulped playfully before taking Y/n's hand. They walked off into a nearby park, Draco's arm wrapped around her waist. Thankfully, he had brought their jackets.
"Do we really have to spend the night apart?" Draco asked her pleadingly.
Y/n giggled. She had expected the questions when they first started planning the wedding eve. "Yes, Dray, or we'll have bad luck." She told him.
Draco huffed. "But I'll miss you." He complained, dropping his head on top of hers. "We can just Obliviate Pansy." He suggested.
Y/n looked up at him with a frown, shaking her head. "Draco Malfoy, we are not going to obliviate our friends."
"We could use the full body-bind curse?" He proposed.
Y/n giggled at him. "Absolutely not. I think you can just have some patience." She told him.
"Fine." He agreed before looking at his watch. "I guess I have to take you back now."
Y/n nodded, and they walked the few blocks to the hotel.
"Draco! I was just about to get your mother. It's 5 minutes to midnight." Pansy said as soon as she saw Draco and Y/n walk off the elevator, giggling.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Parkinson. She's my fiancee." They had always had a playful relationship. To outsiders, it would look like Draco disliked Pansy, but he couldn't love her anymore.
"Children, calm down," Y/n told them with a giggle. "I'm here before midnight."
Pansy looked at her watch. "You've got three minutes to be out of our sight, Draco." She warned him.
"Could I at least farewell my fiancee?" He asked. Pansy nodded, still not going back inside the hotel room. "Without you here?" He questioned, eyebrows raised.
"I'll be back in two minutes." Pansy reminded him before slipping inside the hotel suite.
Draco rolled his eyes once she'd gone. "She's mental."
Y/n nodded with a smile. "But, we love her." She reminded him. He just rolled his eyes again.
"And we only have 1 and a half minutes before she storms out here," Draco complained.
"Let's not waste time then," Y/n told him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull his lips down onto hers. They stood in the hotel hallway, kissing for a minute. After each time they pulled away, they were drawn back to each other. "Goodnight, Dray," Y/n whispered, again his lips.
"I'll see you tomorrow." He replied, leaning in for one final kiss. "Please don't leave me at the alter."
Y/n giggled but shook her head. "Never. I love you."
"I love you too." He said, and with one final wave, he was gone.
Pansy burst into the hallway only moments after, ready to kick some Malfoy arse.
"Don't worry," Y/n reassured her. "He's gone back to his hotel."
The boys were staying in another hotel because Narcissa didn't think Draco would be able to stay away from Y/n.
Pansy nodded, uncrossing her arms. "Good, now come in. We're doing shots."
That was not a good way to ensure waking up feeling fresh at 9am. But Y/n followed her in and drank anyway.
They were awakened by a knock on the door. Pansy checked the peephole, making sure it wasn't Draco before opening it. Y/n, Ginny, and Daphne groaned at Hermione, opening the curtains and flooding the room with sunlight. However, the view was beautiful.
The time on the alarm clock blinked 8:03 in red.
Narcissa was the one at the door, walking in and laughing at the state of the girls.
"Please don't laugh," Y/n begged after taking a panadol and putting on some sunglasses. She standing up.
In their drunken state, they had taken both king-sized mattresses laid them on the living room floor. Y/n managed to piece together that Ginny and Hermione shared on. Daphne slept next to her, and Pansy slept on the couch, facing the door in case Draco came knocking.
"I heard you had a fun night." Narcissa joked, still grinning.
Daphne groaned as she stumbled up. "Alright, who snitched?" She asked, looking around the girls.
They all shook their head before turning their attention to Narcissa. "Our room was a floor below. We could hear the dancing and music until 2 in the morning." She explained.
"Sorry," Y/n replied, feeling like she was being told off by a teacher.
Narcissa laughed. "Don't worry about it. Makeup and hair are starting at 9 though so you all need to be ready. I also brought you breakfast." She revealed a brown paper bag.
Pansy took it, looking into the bag. "Ooo, coffee." She pulled out the takeaway cups with a wide grin handing one out to each girl. "And danishes!" She cheered, way too loud for the rest of them.
"Alright, there are three showers so shower, drink coffee and eat," Narcissa instructed, acting like a mother at a sleepover.
The girls complied, all getting ready and eventually getting their hair and makeup done. Y/n hadn't looked in the mirror since she showered, but she was blown away by what she saw.
Even she would admit she looked gorgeous. The tears in Narcissa's eyes confirmed it.
"You look... there are no words." Narcissa said, her hands flying over her mouth.
Pansy, Ginny, Hermione, and Daphne nodded in agreement. All sharing similar teary-eyed looks.
Y/n ran off to put the dress on, carefully not to look in the mirror before she saw the end result.
When she came out, everyone's faces dropped even more. "You look perfect," Pansy told her.
Y/n grinned, turning to look in the full mirror. She couldn't believe how she looked. She had never seen herself like this before. The dress was tight in the torso, going into a full-length skirt around her waist. She ran her fingers over the delicate lace.
"I can't cry. I'm going to mess up my makeup." Y/n complained, trying not to let her eyes water.
They all laughed at her. "It's waterproof mascara," Hermione assured her. That started the tears.
The rest of the girls got changed, all coming out separately in their different shades of blue dresses. Narcissa's dress was tea-length and a dark shade of green. Y/n knew it would match Lucius' suit.
Then, they had champagne in celebration while the photographer took pictures. The sky was bright blue, and Y/n knew it was going to be perfect.
There was another knock on the door before it was time to go. Ginny raced over to answer it, knowing who it was. Harry.
Y/n heard their conversation. "You look so beautiful, Gin." He told her, placing a kiss on her lips. Y/n couldn't wait for their wedding.
"Come see the bride," Ginny instructed, pulling him over by their interlock fingers out of the foyer.
Harry's mouth dropped open when he was his twin sister. He couldn't believe how the little girl who used to untangle his unruly hair was now a bride.
"Y/n, you look stunning." He complimented once he could finally speak.
"Thanks, Har. So do you." Y/n replied, looking at Harry in his black suit with a blue plaid tie. She raced over to give him a hug.
Harry was still grinning when he pulled back. "Lily and James would be so proud of you two," Narcissa commented, pulling the twin's attention back to her.
They both smiled sadly at that. "That reminds me, I brought you this." Harry held out a bracelet. A bracelet with red stones. "I hope it doesn't clash with your dress, I don't really know much about that." He said, with a laugh. There were tears in his eyes Y/n could see.
"It's beautiful, Harry. Thank you." She held out her wrist so he could put it on.
"It's ruby, it was mums. She brought it when we were born because it's our birthstone." Harry explained. That made more tears stream out of Y/n's eyes. It was so sweet of him.
"Harry, thank you." Y/n thanked him again. "How did you?" She couldn't even finish her sentence with the tears.
Harry's tears were running free now as well. "Remus somehow got ahold of it." He clarified. The thought of their dead uncle made more tears appear.
She wrapped him in a hug again, holding him as tight as she could.
Finally, it was time to go. Y/n was sure she had never been this nervous. Her stomach was twisted, and she felt like she could puke.
Harry, her, Narcissa, and the bridesmaids all entered the limo that was taking them on the half-hour journey to the secluded castle.
When Y/n got there, she couldn't believe it. The turrets and grand stone walls. It was phenomenal.
There was a light dusting of snow on the ground and inside there were fairy lights strung everywhere. Harry held her hand the whole way inside.
Narcissa went in first and Y/n tried to peer around the doors to look at Draco but Pansy wouldn't let her. The castle was old inside as well but very grand. It had rounded ceilings and arches in marble stone. Y/n couldn't believe she was getting married here, despite having seen it before.
She knew the walk she was going to take. Down the marble staircase and into the ballroom where Draco was waiting at the altar. She just hoped she wasn't going to trip on the steps.
Ginny went next, the Hermione. Y/n could feel her nerves building, her heart starting to race. It was thumping in her chest.
"Hey, you'll be okay. I'll see you down there." Daphne mentioned, just before her walk. The bride nodded in reply.
Y/n felt like she was at the top of a roller coaster, just as it was about to go down.
"See you, Pans," Y/n said, hugging her maid of honour before she walked out.
Now she really felt like she was going to puke, and Harry could tell.
"Are you ready?" He asked, smiling down at her. Y/n had blocked out the music that was playing, her heart thumping was the only sound she could hear.
She gave him one last hug before he pushed open the doors. She took one deep breath before walking out, Harry's arm interlocked with hers.
From the top of the balcony, she could see the whole ballroom. It was more beautiful than she remembered it. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows were looking out on a snowy field, a tree perfectly in the middle.
The high ceiling was the most phenomenal part. It was painted with beautiful detail like the Sistine chapel.
Y/n scanned the whole room, from the white chairs to the bridesmaids and groomsmen. That's when she saw him. Draco Lucius Malfoy. He looked as good as ever and it made her even more nervous.
His eyes locked on hers, tears already on his cheeks.
Harry walked her down the steps, and down the aisle as Y/n smiled at all their standing friends and family.
When she reached Draco he looked even more perfect. She fell more in love with him then.
Harry shook his hand before giving Y/n one last hug.
"Hi," Y/n whispered, taking the place in front of Draco.
Draco grinned, tears still flowing. "You look... gorgeous." He told her, hand tracing her features.
She couldn't help but smile and return the compliment. "So do you."
Then, the officiant started. He read some passages from various books and explained the history of the couple. Y/n zoned out, already knowing the words he was saying, and admired Draco's face. The one she got to keep forever.
"We will now hear the couple's vows." The minister announced and Y/n beamed at Draco. "Draco."
"I, uh, I recently learned that we are all made of stardust. The particles in us have been around for billions of years, and they'll be around for a billion more. I only decided I believed in fate because I'm sure I've known you for millions of years and I hope I'll know you for a million more. Somehow, the universe allowed us to exist at the same time, despite the minuscule odds. It's improbable but I'm eternally grateful." Neither of them could stop the endless tears, all happy ones. "I went without knowing you for 11 September 1sts, but we were always looking at the same stars. When we did finally meet the stars aligned once more. No one knows this but for years we used to sneak out at night and look at the stars." Y/n giggled at the memory, realising everyone now knew about it. "I may be biased about my love for the stars, due to my name." Draco paused to look at Narcissa and Lucius who were also laughing. "But I'm positive our love has been written in the stars for millions of years and I'm going to make sure it is for millions more."
His words were so beautiful Y/n couldn't stop the tears. She looked around the room to see lots of other guests crying too.
Then it was Y/n's turn. She wasn't sure how she could top it, but she tried. Somehow she managed to get more tears.
"You may now kiss the bride." The minister announced once they had exchanged rings. Draco gently touched her waist, leaning in to give her a soft kiss.
"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." The minister declared, causing everyone to clap loudly.
"I love you, Mrs. Malfoy," Draco whispered in her ear.
"I love you too," Y/n replied with a smile.
It definitely was one of the happiest days of her life.
a/n: I've also had a request for a smutty honeymoon imagine so that will be coming out soon ;)
Hope you enjoyed it !
#draco x oc#draco fic#draco smut#draco malfoy smut#draco fanfiction#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy fic#dracomalfoy#draco angst#draco malfoy#draco x slytherin!reader#draco fluff#draco one shot#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy au#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy series#draco malfoy x gryffindor#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x oc#harry potter imagine#harry potter au#draco malfoy x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy x potter!reader
124 notes
·
View notes
Note
I have a prompt idea! The Brothers reacting to an MC that can regenerate after they die. Someone stabbed them? The wound will close in a bit. Did they fall from a high place and their body shattered? It’s all good, they’re body’ll just snap everything back into place as they’re conscious. We’re they poisoned? They’ll treat it like a stomach bug and be fine the next day. Funny part is MC could tell them the worst ways they died during their childhood in a lighthearted way which makes things more disturbing, especially since demon threats against them won’t work.
Ok first time I read this prompt I had a good laugh bc all I could think about was an MC that made that little squeaking noise those rubber chickens make when they inflate every time they regenerated lmaoooo. Could you imagine the pavlovian response all the brothers get if they hear a squeak? Like Lucifer would be trying to sleep and Cerberus finds one of his old chew toys and the fear it brings is legendary.
TW: Death, Blood, Injuries
Lucifer
When you first tell him he has no idea if it was a crude joke or not. You are so blasé about something that should traumatize you. He hates how you snort at his every threat. What good is blackmail if you don’t go for it?
He does not believe you at first. Just another little human talking big trying to impress him. He would keep a keen eye on you too, making sure they have no reason to get even so much of a scrape on their knee. Believe you or not he doesn’t need this program to fail. Then Belphie happened. Seeing your lifeless body made so many things happen in his mind he felt physically ill. He hadn’t felt like crying so hard since Lilith…
And then you sit up and crack your spine, like you were waking up from a nap instead of getting up after being thrown from the second story.
He-is relieved, and terrified. Were humans supposed to do that? He doesn't remember reading this particular ability in his father’s schematics. He believes you now nonetheless.
But he still doesn’t let you just go getting hurt whenever you feel like it.
“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head firmly. He is unfazed by your cute little pout and huffing.
“Lotan is friendly!” You try again pushing the form back at him defiantly. Lucifer picks it up again against his better judgment and scoffs. Friendly, if Lotan is friendly then Cerberus was a saint. “Come on what’s the worst that can happen? I’m out of school for a day or two if things get dicey.” You plead leaning up and over his desk. Ugh. He rubs at his temple in annoyance.
“The fact that you think skipping a few days of school because you became fish food as a minor hindrance terrifies me.” He drolls but picks up his feathered quill irregardless. You squeal in delight and hug him fiercely, managing to pull a smile out of him. They grab the liability agreement and run out the door already shouting for Levi to hurry up before Lucifer changes his mind. He chuckles leaning back in his chair. Fine, if they are happy… let it be on their head if it severs. Wait- could they regenerate from that? “Shit.”
Mammon
He believes you. Not because he takes their word for it but the first night on duty as your caretaker you fall out of his balcony window.
One minute they are having a heated argument about his unwanted duties, him hovering over you while you lean up against the railing refusing to break eye contact. Next thing he knows the old stone gives and you both tumble.
He has wings and catches himself. You- not so much. He can still hear the sickening crunch of bone meeting stone when he lays awake at night. The first thing he worries about is how much trouble he would be in with Lucifer that he failed again. He's a blubbering mess over your body swearing he would do better if they would just get up. Whatever you want it’s theirs if you just open their eyes.
And of course, you do. He won’t admit to the scream that erupts from his mouth when you ask him to swear on that deal or they are going to Lucifer as soon as they can feel their legs. He agrees readily, glad his hide is saved for now.
When you two become closer he figures why not make some money off of this little quirk. Enter the troublesome duo of grifters.
You whimper, hamming it up for the terrified looking demon glazing between your broken leg and Mammon wiggling his ring heavy fingers at them. “Look what ya did to my human.” He tuts. “What, ya don’t look both ways when riding.” He kicks at the upended bike by his feet. The demon sputters swearing that they did and neither of them had been in the way.
“Mammon~” His human sniffles flashing him a teary eyed pout. To the other lesser demon it looked like a plea, but Mammon knew it was a warning that your leg would start mending soon.
“Who do you think is gonna pay for this?” He goes in for the kill waving his free arm down at his human’s prone form. “You want Lucifer or Diavolo ta hear about this? Ya know this human is special to us.” The demon blanches and shakes its head. Terrified it threw its wallet at the avatar of greed and bolted leaving their bike and bag behind. Waiting for the demon to be completely out of earshot Mammon turns with a dazzling smile. “Damn,” He whistles, helping his human back to their feet. Already the bone and skin had mended leaving only an ugly red stain on the fabric of their uniform. “I think you just moved up the ranks of my most favorite things. Gonna rival Goldie soon if this picks up...” He opens the wallet and pockets the handful of cash in it, tossing the worn fabric to the street floor.
“Hey.” Mammon looks down at you. You were now scowling eying his pant pocket. “Don’t forget your side of the bargain.” He chuckles raising his hands in defeat.
“Alright- Alright. One stupidly expensive ice cream coming up.” He can't hide his blush when you hug his arm close to your chest, excitedly leading him back to the main street.
Leviathan
Oh like in that one anime???
But really, he is the first to take your word for it. Finds it kinda neat. Not that he is going to test it. Who would he have to play with if you were just yanking his chain?
He listens to absolutely spine chilling tales of your little “mishaps” as a child. But you brush off his concern. Don’t worry about it! Makes for great stories. To tell right?
Of course, when he sees it first hand he forgets for a moment that you would eventually feel better. He left his tank open one night to clean out some debris gunking up the water pump. Damn things get stalled so frequently now. He turns his back for a moment to get a tool and the next he smells human blood in the water!
He scoops you out of the water before whatever fiendish creatures he holds in his aquarium can take a bite and gets you to solid ground. He is panicking hardcore, he doesn’t feel a pulse. He sees that they smashed their head, blood pooling sluggishly down your temple. You must have slipped on the wet tank edge and hit their head.
Just when he is about to name another Henry in your honor you pop up spitting out whatever water that had gotten into their lungs. They flash him a knowing smirk at his red-rimmed eyes and joke that they have a killer headache.
Nurse Levi to the rescue!
Levi checks in on you again, leaning over the edge of his tank. “D-don’t you move a muscle!” He shouts down to you. Squinting he sees a hand emerging from the mound of pillows and blankets inside his tub-bed. you shoot him a quick thumbs up before turning your attention back to his giant flat screen. “You sure you don’t need Barbatos or some pain meds?” He frets. He was close to just giving up on the pump and coming to take care of his miraculously healed guest.
“Levi I’m fine! Not even sleepy.” Your muffled reply wafts up to him. You push down some of the blankets to give him a relaxed smile. “See not even a scar.” You show him the side of their head that had been cut. Sure enough, nothing was there but a smoothed patch of skin. It lessens some of his panic, but barely. He knew internal damage was still a thing to humans.
Finishing up quickly with the pump he slithers back down to your side sheepishly. He had apologized what felt like a thousand times, but he was ready to drop a couple thousand more if need be. His looming causes you to look up from the anime you were watching. The flashing blue and yellow lights illuminate their calm gaze. None of the panic he felt seemed to transfer to you. “Want to join me?” You pat at the covers. “Waters warm.” You chuckle at their own joke pulling the blue covers down and away to give him room to join them.
“I-if you’re sure.” He stammers wiping at his face to hide his flush. You nod, patting the empty side again. He joins you snuggling close, he runs a hand where a gruesome scar had been not even an hour again. You nuzzle in close. His slightly cool fingers felt great on your skin before turning back to the screen completely nonplussed.
What a weird human...
Satan
Much like Lucifer doesn’t believe you. He has never heard or read about humans being able to do that. Will not believe them and gets annoyed by the “fake” stories you kept insisting were real.
The fact that a single human has such a vividly morbid imagination fascinates him, but he won’t divulge in your little fantasy. There is only so much foolishness he can deal with.
He forgets about it after a while and you stop bringing it up. If he doesn’t believe you so be it, he’ll find out one day surely, you aren’t exactly the most careful with your body. When he does find out it about does him in.
He had warned them of climbing on his bookshelves. He doesn’t have them tethered down or stable. He doesn’t need them to be. His shelves would never even dare to topple on him. But this weak little human takes his room as a personal jungle gym, climbing up him and his things for a book. They could just ask but Devil’s forbid they did something halfway intelligent.
You hear him fretting through the fog coating your senses. His fingers shakily poking at your crushed abdomen and legs all bent akimbo clearing broken. “Don’t be dead-please don’t do this.” He hisses about ready to use magic to put you back together again. You pull your strength and grab his hand before he can interfere with your natural healing ability.
He starts, green eyes looking down relieved and amazed at you. “Don’t.” You croak, already feeling your lungs and rib cage healing. “I’m good.”
“You’re good!” He shouts voice cracking in exasperation. “I’ve seen the aftermath of Beel’s feeding rampages that have looked better!” You snort pushing his hands away to rest up on your elbows. Eh- he wasn’t exactly wrong.
“I look like a chewed-up burger huh?” You joke laughing at his stunted and slightly disgusted look. “I’ll be ok, just help me up? My legs are always tingly after healing.” Wordlessly he follows your instructions amazed at how well you are handling all of this. Were you actually human? You stand on wobbly legs bending and popping your joints. You give yourself a quick check over “Tada!” You give him two very bloody thumbs ups once you see that you are back to normal. “It’s all good!”
He shakes his head bewildered. “I-if you say so.” Satan wrinkles his nose looking at the mess of your clothes and his room. “Go wash up. I’ll get you a new set of clothes and work on this mess.” You nod already heading to his slightly cleaning bathroom. His warm hand wraps around your wrist catching you mid stride. “Don’t tell anyone about this ok?” He pleads. If anyone knew that he had been so foolish, he would never live it down.
You nod miming zipping your lips. “Betcha believe me know huh?”
He rolls his eyes turning to the task at hand. “Don’t push your luck, or next time I’ll leave you under a shelf.”
Asmodeus
Believes you. You have never lied before so why do it now over something so trivial. Humans die all the time and if you say you can't then ok. He asks tons of questions about how you found out about this.
He doesn't like the stories you tell but doesn't find it off-putting how easily you talk about it. He's been around the block with mortals and they cope in all sorts of ways.
He cuddles you and coos over every story you tell then shoots off hundreds of compliments about your complexion. It's amazing how well your skin holds up to all the foolish actions of your past.
Even though he trusts you and your stories he still is super careful with you. You are not going to get hurt on his watch, absolutely not! Will patch you up if you need it all while gripping about your foolishness.
But accidents happen, and even the most watchful demon trips up sometimes.
Asmo tuts over you rubbing at the potion burning away at your flesh. "I told you the maroon bottle love." You hiss as the antiseptic hits muscle.
"Maroon and burgundy look the same, bite me!" He clicks his tongue and bites off the argument brewing within him. How can you not see how different the two colors are. You grouch some more while he works on getting the rest of his potion off your cheek. You had just wanted to use one of his acne toner, the one that smelled like cucumber and rose. He was preoccupied with his eyeliner but told you to just grab it from his shelf. He had a lot of bottles and a lot of them were definitely not for human use.
You unfortunately just happened to pick one of them. The one you nabbed was a toner built for his stronger skin. It ate away at your cheeks and flesh of your palm on contact. It's burning and tingling making you yelp in surprise. Luckily for you, Asmo acted fast coming up from behind and knocking the toner-soaked cotton pad from your reddening fingers. He curses at you the whole way to his bathroom. Done with your right cheek and hand he nods in approval, seeing your flesh already knitting back together. "At least you have lovely bone structure. Ahhh~ I'm jealous!" He pokes a nail at the exposed bone of your cheekbone. The mending muscles and nerves almost growing over his nail before he could pull away. You quirk a brow.
"Want them? I'm pretty sure I could regrow my jawline before anybody would notice. " You shrug taking the washcloth from him to dap at your left cheek. Asmo laughs, it was a ridiculously tempting offer after all.
"Could you?" He taps at his own chin in thought. You glance back at him and sits on the toilet. In theory, you probably could. Hadn't happened...yet.
"Ye- just give me a heads up first? And maybe some good booze to knock me out." You say only half-joking. Asmo nods eagerly, twirling a lock of soft tawny hair. He might take you up on the offer.
Beelzebub
He doesn't want to know and he never wants to find out. He just likes you too much to see you get hurt :(. It gets to the point where you cannot bring any past stories of incidents (no matter how funny you think they are). If a story comes out be prepared to be carried everywhere by this gentle giant. If you won't cease your foolishness then he will.
Though he probably should have heard a few of the stories. Mostly the ones about poisons and inedible things you use to eat. A lot of his world revolves around food and he loves to share it with you.
He never heard you complain about the foods he had you try with him. It wasn't until Simeon and Luke tagged along did he learn the awful truth that he had been poisoning you almost every time you two went out.
Takes him forever to get out of his head about it. You are clearly fine and never brought it up because you just loved spending time bonding with him.
You find him in the ally behind the restaurant. His massive form curled in on itself from where he sat. "Why didn't you tell me?" He rumbles hearing you approach to stand next to him. "I could have killed you." You sit squat next to him resting your arms on your knees.
"I mean...if we are keeping count it would be dead about eight times over by this point." You meant it to be funny but he groans in anguish pulling at his hair. You grab his fists and pry them from his scalp. "Hey! Hey!" You pat his knuckles, eyes filled with concern. "I'm still here right, still kicking and eating all these awesome foods, don't worry. Please?" You can tell your words do not calm him but he doesn't pull from your grasp either. "If you are curious, all the foods that would have done me dirty just gave me some bad cramps and gas for the evening. Nothing a tum and hot tea couldn't fix." You fill the air with useless chatter, all while stroking his knuckles.
You really wish that Luke hadn't said anything. Simeon had read the room, his neat brown brows raising in astonishment as you sank into the meal Beel bought for you. But he otherwise stayed silent tucking into his own meal without a fuss. You couldn't completely blame Luke though. He was young and just looking out for you. Though, he-well- both of you could have handled it better. With him screaming and you screaming, it was a recipe for disaster.
Beel rises a few minutes later rubbing at his burning eyes. "Are you sure you are ok?" He checks in with you once more. You nod perking up as you see him grunt in acceptance. "Just let me know next time you can't eat something."
"But it tastes good!" You pout. He frowns not budging from his spot until he sees you sigh in defeat and agree. No more purposely poisoning yourself just for munchies. "Fine-but you are just saying that to get extra portions."
Belphegor
He finds out when he kills your dumbass for believing him. It totally harshed his vibe.
Here he was getting an amazing monologue, reveling in his eldest's brothers' anguish and look of anger from the prince. He was ready to give his final performance and hopefully wipe the floor with that red-headed bastard plans to "commingle"
He tossed your "lifeless" body from him, taking a sick amount of pleasure in the way your body flopped down the stairs. He notices how the other brothers seem completely unfazed by your corpse at their feet.
Huh? Perhaps they didn't understand the actions he did. Or maybe they truly have given into the demons they had become. He stops his tirade only when he watches Asmo bend down and poke at your cheek. He didn't look sad, just merely annoyed. Like you were taking too long to get up.
But that is impossible. You would never get up again...
Mammon rolls his eyes at his youngest brother's actions. Honestly, he loved the little edge lord, but this was ridiculous. He had a racket to go check on. His hand drifts down slowly to his pocket. If he just angled it right he could probably check his phone without looking rude. He makes eye contact with Satan and jerks his head exasperatedly at Lucifer and Belphegor going at it. The blonde shakes his head and shrugs. Slowly he inches closer so Mammon can go on his phone without getting caught. Covering for Mammon Satan looks around the room feigning interest.
Beelzebub and Leviathan seemed mildly more attentive to what was going on than him. The latter of the two eating it up like an arch in an anime, while the former was trying desperately to placate his twin. Asmodeus on the other hand was having none of this. He plops down next to your body turning your head to face him. He checks you over quietly ignoring the storm exploding out of his elder brother and the rest of the gang. "Honestly darling," He strokes the bridge of your nose, feeling the bone and cartilage shifting back into place beneath his finger. "is this a good time to ask if I can have your jawline?" He sees the corner of your lips twitch. He leans in and whispers in your ear. "How long are you going to play dead?"
"Am I boring you, brother?" Asmo glances up from his position over your head. Belphegor looks down at his face apoplectic with rage at being ignored. "And I see you on your phone Mammon!"
"Shove it! I got shit to do!"
Asmo gets to his feet dusting off his pants and ruffles. He shrugs up at Belphie who was doing a great interpretation of Lucifer when angry. He was so much like Lucifer it was scary sometimes. "Sorry honey! Just check on my bestie."
Belphie snorts making his way down to the first floor. "Just checking I killed-"
You pop up grunting loudly as your spine reconnects. "Help your bestie up?" You raise a hand for Asmo who happily takes it. You turn your back to a dumbfounded Belphie and Lucifer, both not understanding what just happened.
"About time." Mammon sighs pocketing his phone. "I got some idiots we can swindle out of some grimm."
"Oi!" Satan butts in cutting Mammon off. "You had your turn! I have some spells they said they would help me test out."
You grin, not fighting it as the two tug at you like a toy between toddlers.
"Enough!" The two jump away from you at Lucifer's roar. You squeak in surprise when a firm leather-gloved hand spins you around so you could stand face to face with a fully shifted Lucifer. "You!" He runs his hands over you in disbelief. "How..." Your first conversation with him comes back to mind.
I can't die so try to threaten me with something else next time K?
"Would someone tell me WHAT is going on and why they are still breathing!" Belphie pushes through to you and Lucifer.
Beel grabs him up before he could get his claws into you again, stroking his dark hair like you would an angry cat. "It's a long story..."
#obey me#obey me requests#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#tw: death#tw: body horror
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Itsy Bitsy Spider {Katsuki Bakugou x Reader}
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Assault
Summary: Your grumpy (and ridiculously attractive) neighbor helps you rid of the spider in your new apartment. Things grow from there.
Notes: fem!Reader, ProHero!Bakugou, Bakugou hates feelings
That’s it. You were moving out.
So what, that you just managed to unpack the last box in your new apartment? One look at that eight-legged... creature, and it was their apartment now. You weren’t trying to be dramatic, but spiders were the absolute bane of your existence.
This led to you shakily standing over the said arachnid, a large All Might mug trembling faintly in your hands.
“Oh shit, oh fuck-- FUCK!” You shrieked as the spider took a quick dart to its left. Nope. No way.
It had taken about an hour before the spider was successfully captive. Another hour to finally figure out what to do next.
And now there you were, pacing back and forth in front of your neighbor’s front door, mumbling failed greetings to yourself like a desperate prayer.
“Hi, I’m-- that’s not right. How about ‘I just moved in and--.’ God, I sound like an idiot.” Gathering all of your courage, you rapped three quick knocks on the front of the wood. The urge to bolt was suddenly very powerful.
“I swear to God, Shitty Hair, if you-- Oh.” The door was suddenly swung open to reveal the most gorgeous person you had ever seen in your whole life. With biceps the size of your head, the man completely dwarfed you in size. He almost took up the entire space of the door, his spikey blond locks brushing the top the frame. Vermillion eyes stared at you cautiously as you forgot everything you were about to say. “The fuck you want?”
As you made no move to answer, the Greek god of a man pulled his lips into a scowl.
“What are you, a fucking stalker or somethin’?”
That definitely brought you out of your reverence.
“W-What? No!”
A scoff left the man’s lips, and you suddenly wanted nothing more that to kick him straight in the jewels. However, you were on a mission. A mission to rid a tiny eight-eyed demon from your living room.
“There was a, uh...spider.” You slowly trailed off, waving weakly in the direction of your apartment across the hall.
“A spider? Really?” The blond questioned condescendingly, rolling his stupidly-perfect crimson eyes.
A light flush brushed your cheeks in embarrassment as you stared down at your shoes. You were sure he was going to slam the door right in your face. But he didn’t.
The man brushed right past you, marching right though your open door-- making sure to loudly mumble as many complaints as he could. You stumbled after the tall blond, failing to keep up with his abnormally long strides.
You watched in silence as he crouched by the downturned mug, raising a single perfectly-sculpted brow. However, your silence was quickly turned into a squeak of horror when your neighbor dumped the spider into his bare-hand.
For a moment of absolute terror, you thought the stranger was going to throw it at you.
Wide-eyed, you watched as he pushed open the nearest window and placed the spider on the railing of your fire-escape. Having pushed the window back down, the man turned back to leave your apartment. As he walked past, he shoved the now (thankfully) empty mug to your chest.
“W-wait!”
He paused, sliding his crimson gaze to yours.
“M-My name is (Y/L/N)… (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”
You weren’t quite sure why you felt the need to give him your name. Maybe it was because he helped you when you were absolutely sure he wouldn’t. Or maybe how he decided to let the bug free instead of kill it. Maybe it was the amused huff he let out when he heard your terrified squeak. Perhaps it was all three. You didn’t know.
His striking red eyes suddenly raked your frame before a smirk settled confidently on his all-too-attractive lips.
“Bakugou Katsuki.”
~~~
“HOLD THE FUCKING DOOR!”
You let out a squeak at the sudden yell, sticking the toe of your nude-colored pumps between the sliding elevator doors. A muscled arm wedged itself between the doors, pulling them back open.
“You.” You breathed as none other than your extremely hot neighbor was revealed. The blond was clad in a loose black V-neck and sweatpants-- a large duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. His hair was slightly damp, as small beads of water dropped off the edge of his spikes every couple of seconds.
“Stalker.” He acknowledged with a grunt. The corner of Bakugou’s lips shot up at your protests.
The ride down to the lobby was relatively silent and slightly awkward. You kept switching your weight on both legs as you struggled to find something to say.
“The fuck you dressed so fancy for?” The explosive blond finally said. You couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief at the break in silence.
“I got a new job at All Might Bank!” You were pretty excited, as it was your first day. The bank itself was pretty fancy, and you were cheery that it was named after the old symbol of peace. All Might had been your favorite hero growing up but you grew out of your hero phase as you had gotten older. Nowadays you couldn’t tell one hero from the other.
You turned to Bakugou with a smile, content that he even cared about your life. It was quite a surprise when compared with the vibes he gave off.
“What about you?” You asked cheerily.
“... Agency.” He grunted.
“Oh! Are you a model or something?” You knew it! There was no way that a man as attractive as Bakugou Katsuki was not the cover of every magazine. He was, just not for the reasons you thought. You watched in confusion as the explosive blond emitted a loud snort.
“Or something...”
DING!
You were almost sad as the elevator dinged, signaling the end of the ride. Although it was short, and mostly awkward, you found yourself enjoying his company. You walked side by side until you reached the doors to outside, pausing slightly when he went to part.
“Thank you.”
Bakugou froze at your expressed gratitude, studying your figure with renewed interest.
“You know... for the spider?” You seemed to lose all cognitive brain function when he looked at you with those frustratingly gorgeous vermillion eyes. Bakugou scoffed and turned away, muttering a quiet response. Little did you know that he was trying to hide a light blush.
“Whatever...”
~~~
You were happy to say that these shared elevator rides became a daily ritual, to the point where Bakugou started to bring you his delicious leftovers for your lunch (he made the meals especially for you, but would die before he ever admitted that). Before you knew it, you were quite smitten with the blond.
You couldn’t help but replay this morning’s occurrence in your head as you filed checking account after checking account.
“Good morning, Bakugou-kun!” You called as you exited your apartment. You didn’t even have to look anymore. Bakugou had a habit of waiting for you outside your door to give you his most current dish.
“Morning.” He grunted in response, hating the way his heart skipped a beat.
His eyes scanned over your form, (longer than considered friendly) as he checked your outfit. Bakugou always seemed to have some sort of fashion-ready advice on the tip of his tongue, and with you still thinking he was a model-- you were more that happy to comply. And also for the fact that he really did have a good eye for it.
“Undo the top two buttons… you look like a nerd.”
Your eyes quickly flashed to your white button-up, pulling at the two buttons with one hand.
“Better?”
Bakugou only grunted in approval. He was trying to act like he wasn’t on the verge of kissing the ever-lasting life out of you.
~~~
“Hey, Newbie! Get me a coffee, will ya?” You were quickly pulled out of your daydream by one of your (slightly arrogant) bosses.
“Of course, sir.” You answered as you hurried to the other side of the bank. You’ve been at your new job (and apartment) for about a month, and they still won’t let up on the whole “newbie” stuff.
You sighed as you waited by the coffee maker, situated right to the left of the big glass entrance. Oh, how you would have loved to pour that coffee right over your boss’ head. Too lost in your own head, you failed to notice the suspicious group of men heading straight for the vault until one of them grabbed your arm.
“What the fu--”
“EVERYBODY DOWN OR SHE DIES!”
Oh shit! Oh fuck! Your mind was reeling at a million miles per hour. The man had pulled you to where your back was to his front, and had a blade pressed against your throat. It seemed to come out of the inside of his wrist, being a relatively deadly quirk if handled correctly.
Everyone within the pristine building froze but quickly dropped to the floor after some warning shots from one of the robbers. Another suddenly morphed into some sort of beast and marched to the steel vault door.
You suddenly wished that you had a more physical quirk, cursing it for being so useless in this situation. Yeah, you knew basic self-defense, but it would be futile with three other villains in your midst.
Minutes felt like hours, and you could only hope that someone had alerted the police and nearby heroes. You winced as the blade dug into the delicate skin of your throat.
A sudden explosion burst through the skylight of the building, raining glass shards on the hostages. All at once, people were screaming, running, and blast after blast started ringing in your ears. You let out a sigh of relief.
The heroes were here.
Using the distraction, you quickly gripped the man’s arm tight below the base of the blade. You pulled it away from your neck ever so slightly, ducking your head to pull yourself through the gateway you had created. Keeping your hands locked at the base of the robber’s wrist, you twisted his arm and shoved up-- forcing it to pop from its socket.
A sudden bump to your shoulder from a running hostage caused you to slip up on your little self-defense sequence, allowing the man to break from your grip. He whipped around to face you, holding his dislocated arm. You panicked, so... you socked him in the face.
He let out an enraged cry, thick blood gushing from his nose. You were a bit surprised with how easy it was to land a hit on him. You thought that villains would have been more prepared before robbing a bank named after All Might.
Oh, well.
You punched him again in the nose for good measure, and he was out like a light. His hot red blood coated your knuckles, and you gagged in disgust. Ew. You wiped the back of your dominant hand on you button-up absentmindedly, before being shoved to the floor by your panicking boss. Wow. Your limbs felt like mush now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and you suddenly couldn’t find the strength to pick yourself off of the floor.
A final explosion went off, followed by the most desperate and wretched call you had ever heard in your entire life. And the call... sounded suspiciously like your name.
Your eyes shot up at the scream, searching frantically for the owner of that voice. You knew that voice, you only ever heard it in grunts and light-hearted mocking sentences, but you knew that voice.
“Katsuki.” You breathed, eyes suddenly locked on familiar crimson irises.
Relief flooded his features as he saw you, and was at your side in seconds-- dropping quickly to his knees.
“Oh my god.” Bakugou breathed, grabbing your head and cradling it tight to his chest and-- what the fuck was he wearing? Wait, there was no way... he was the explosion hero you saw on the news! Holy fuck!
“You scared the shit out of me! Do you know how terrified I was when I heard there was trouble at your work?! And you didn’t answer your goddamn phone? Jesus Christ, (Y/N).” Worried rambles fell rapidly out of Bakugou’s lips, seemingly void of any filter. You would have been ecstatic by his cute little worrying if your mind wasn’t reeling by the fact that your crush neighbor was one of the top ten heroes in Japan.
He suddenly grasped both sides of your face and pulled back so you were eye to eye.
“Are you hurt? I swear to God, if someone hurt you-- I’ll fucking kill them.” Bakugou’s eyes were frantically scanning your face, looking for any sign of injury.
“...Katsuki?” You mumbled softly, and he immediately froze. He felt his heart lurch in his throat as his name tumbled from your lips. You, on the other hand, were completely, and utterly lost. “You’re a pro-hero?”
“....What?” Bakugou questioned dumbly. “You could have been seriously hurt and that’s the first thing you think about?”
“What? I thought you were a model.” You whined, lightly smacking his chest.
At this, Bakugou let out a loud laugh, and you just watched in awe. You had never seen him laugh before. Even though half his face was smeared in black makeup and little injuries littered his skin-- it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life. He pulled back to look at you, but suddenly froze.
“You’re hurt! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Bakugou shouted, spotting bright red stains on the front of your blouse. You quickly grabbed his hand, hoping to soothe his panicking.
“Hey, hey!” You yelped, gaining his attention. “It’s not mine.”
You gestured over to the villain knocked out next to you.
“Holy shit.” Katsuki breathed, before turning his vermillion gaze back to yours. A quiet, amused huff escaped his lips. “So you’re afraid of a spider, but can knock out a villain?” He questioned teasingly.
A light blush covered your cheeks, causing you to force your eyes down. You suddenly noticed just how close you two were. You were situated about half way onto Bakugou’s lap, as one of his large hands softly held your waist. The other was still trapped between your own. This caused your blush to only darken.
“Hey, eyes up here.” Bakugou muttered, lifting his hand from your waist and to the base of your chin. You force your eyes back up to his, but couldn’t help but sneak a quick glance to his lips. However, Bakugou saw it, and that was all it took.
Bakugou crashed his lips onto yours, and you were quick to respond. You tangled your hands within his soft blond locks, allowing him to completely dominate the kiss. His hands held you tightly to his body, refusing to give even an inch of space between you two. He didn’t let go even as you pulled back for air, his lips chasing after yours.
Time seemed to stop while he was kissing you, and every one was distressed with the thought of losing you. It was soft and sweet, and then rough and desperate-- the sweet smell of caramel, of Bakugou, invading all of your senses.
You finally broke for air, breaths mingling shamelessly. Bakugou rested his forehead on yours, wanting nothing more than to never let you go.
“I’m so glad I found you, Stalker.”
Bonus:
A low whistle dragged out across bank, turning the couples’ gazes over to a certain hardening hero.
“SHITTY HAIR, I SWEAR TO--”
The End.
Notes: This was my first imagine! I hope you guys liked it!
The police watching the final scene like: 👁👄👁 can we go home?
#bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugou katuski x reader#mha#bhna#mha x reader#pro hero bakugou#mha katsuki#bakugou fluff#aged up#bnha bakugo katsuki
606 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unexpected bond
Book: Bloodbound (between book 2 and 3)
Pairing: Adrian Raines x Lily Spencer (friendship) / Mention of Adrian Raines x MC
Words: 1.960
Rating: Mature
Warning: Angst / Mention of violence, death and harassment
**Tags in the reblog**
His jacket was on the floor, where he had thrown it a couple hours ago. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up as his forearms rested on his knees. He had his eyes shut and his back against the wall. His breathing was erratic and faltering, incapable of calming down. The powerful aura that he used to have, had completely disappeared, leaving him broken and defeated, looking as terrible as he felt inside. Whoever knew him beforehand and saw him at this moment, would doubt that that was actually the same Adrian Raines.
His hands had remnants of dried blood, the same that had coloured his white shirt, red. His body was still healing some wounds, cuts and a few broken bones, and bruises as result of their confrontation with Gaius. Every time he breathed, he felt a stinging pain in his chest but he couldn't care less. He had decided to not move from there no matter how long it took. Maybe she woke up before the expected, scared or disorientated. Maybe her bloodkeeper condition made it different for her and she needed some kind of help. Or maybe… Simply, he just couldn't leave her side. Whatever the reason was, he had decided to stay there, in Raines Corp.’s basement, near the sarcophagus in which, and he desperately hoped it was the case, Amy's body was changing, slowly transforming into a vampire.
As a couple of tears slipped on his cheeks, passing through the bloody print that her hand left on his skin as he held her, he couldn't avoid thinking how afraid he was of losing her, to face the world without her. Amy had saved them, after he had promised her he would protect her, she sacrificed herself for them. For him.
He squeezed his eyes tightly, letting his head fall back, against the wall. No matter how hard he tried, the images kept replaying over and over in his mind, in a horrible and constant loop. Amy taking the branch, getting close to Gaius. Her pained gasp as the sword went through her chest and emerged from her back. How his throat hurt from yelling her name, incapable of doing anything else but watch. The fire in her eyes, using the last of her strength to stab Gaius as her blood slipped down in the hilt of the sword onto Gaius' hand. Her little smile before she noticed that her knees gave up and hit the floor first as the rest of her body fell down. How quickly her skin became pale and cold as he held her, knowing that there was only one thing that could save her. How, mortally injured, she cupped his face, almost happy that they had 'won', even if right now it felt like he was about to lose everything that was important to him.
"Adrian?" His eyes flushed open, seeing Lily down the stairs. Her eyes puffy and bloodshot, all her usual energy and almost childlike happy mood, had disappeared. For the first time since he had met her, she seemed like an elderly woman who had lost against life itself. She sat beside him and offered him a pack of blood and what seemed to be a clean shirt.
"Thank you Lily, but I don't need it."
"You do." She gave him a broken look. "You think she would be okay seeing you still hurt?" She placed both things between them. "You are important to her, Adrian. She did what she did to save us. To save you."
"She shouldn't have done it! Now she's--" His voice abruptly cut, incapable to even put into words his fears and torments.
"I know." Lilly replied, distractedly fiddling with one of her rings. "But she's brave and her heart is bigger than anyone I've ever met." A pained smile lifted her lips a little. "Amy would never watch us die if she could avoid it. You know that." She fixed her stare on him, her voice a bit shattered. "Exactly like you or any of us would have done for her if the rolls were reversed."
"But I couldn't." His mind returned to the night before, when they had sleep holding each other. It felt so far away. "I promised her I would protect her no matter what and I couldn't. I failed her." It was the first time they shared this kind of conversation and time alone. It was obvious that Lily had a stronger relationship with Jax, like Adrian had with Kamilah. But, even if they were worried and sad too, right now, the pain Lily and Adrian were feeling, was different from theirs and had brought them together. "I should never have allowed her to get involved in this." To his surprise, she giggled.
"If you think you could have told her what to do, I'm sorry but you don't know her as well as you think." Adrian chuckled a bit alongside her. Lily was absolutely right about that.
"Did she ever tell you about the first time she saw me transformed, on her first day of work?" He wasn't sure why he asked her that. Probably because it was the moment that he realized that she would be special for him, even if he didn't know how much.
"Only a few parts."
"In almost 300 years a lot of people had learned the way she did about all this. And most… If not all of them, begged to forget, to return to their old lives." Despite himself, he smiled at the memory. "Amy… She just stood there. For a little while, she got scared, of course, but… She didn't run or scream. She started to ask me questions, curious, looking at me the exact same way she did all that day. Before her eyes, I was still… Me. She even joked about Nicole being dramatic during the feeding." He let out a sorrowful and shaking sigh. "I took her to Priya's fashion show and she told the security that she was my partner instead of my assistant." They both softly laughed.
"I think she had a crush with you almost instantly." Lily crossed her legs under her. "That night, before returning to the office, we chatted a bit. When I asked her about how you were, her answer was, and I'm quoting here 'super hot'." She said smiling at the same time that her palm dried her cheeks. "She was so happy to be able to stay in New York."
"It was an absolutely mutual feeling." Adrian passed his fingers through his hair, feeling an ache in his heart as his memory returned to the first time he saw her, that she had given him one of her beautiful smiles. "That night, she cut her hand with a glass. All the vampires around were drawn towards the fresh blood, to her."
"I know the feeling." She sadly murmured. "She mentioned that part actually, that you helped her and stood in front of her."
"I will never forget how she hugged me from behind. How when she was scared, she trusted me." His eyes started to burn with fresh tears. "She not only didn't allow the debriefing, but also convinced me to show her around the library." The tears ran free on his face and he didn't try to stop them. "She's brave and stubborn in the most wonderful way."
"I think you are not aware how important you are to her." They stood in silence, lost in their thoughts and memories until Lily talked again. "Amy had always tried to watch over you."
"I know she did." His voice was a low raspy whisper.
"Actually, I suspect you don't know how much." After a pause she sighed, as she had made a decision. "Amy is going to kill me for this…" She muttered. "There's something that she never told you." Adrian noticed the subtle change in her voice. "But I'm convinced you deserve to know." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "After the trial where Vega framed you and they declared you guilty, everybody started to discuss how to divide your stuff and..." She stood in silence, her eyes filled with doubts.
"What happened, Lily?" He shifted his gaze to look at her, taking his attention from the coffin for the first time.
"Priya grabbed her from the throat and 'claimed' her for herself." Lily shivered a bit beside him as his blood seemed to boil and freeze at the same time. "She said that she wanted to break her. And after forcing her to watch you die, maybe kill her."
"Was she hurt?" Adrian frowned, clearly disturbed as a new wave of anguish went through his factions. He was conscious of all the times she had been in danger because of him but discovering that there were occasions that she hadn't told him to protect him, it felt like a powerful hand grabbed his heart and squeezed it slowly and extremely painfully.
"Kamilah stopped her almost immediately but she had a bruise around the neck for a couple weeks. She covered it with makeup."
"Amy never told me about that." He lowered his face, both of his hands holding it, seeming overwhelmed as his fingers ran through his hair.
"I know. She didn't want you to know. She was sure you would feel guilty even when it wasn't your fault." Lily stared at his eyes, he never had seen her gaze so intense. "What do you think was the first thing she said, when we left the temple after that?" Adrian stared at her back, unsure if he wanted to know. "She asked Kamilah how we could help you, to save you." Lily sadly smiled at him. "Even back then she didn't wanted to lose you. That's why she did what she did tonight."
He remembered the deep sadness and concern he saw in her when their eyes locked to each other as he was dragged away. The softness of her hand and words when she had found him in The Baron's dungeon. The happiness he felt when he saw her in front of him. "I didn't want to lose her either." He forced himself to say the words that couldn't stop repeating internally. "I don't want to lose her. I can't. I need her, she just can't di--" The lump in his throat cutted his voice, incapable of ending the last word.
"I don't know if she had heard you but… If it's worth something, I know she loves you too, Adrian." Lily murmured, her voice gruff. "You are the most important person to her." Her hands dried her cheeks. "Well, the second more important at least. Best friends and roommates rights, you know."
"I'll take it." Adrian smiled before his face fell again. "And it's worth more than you can imagine." His eyes fixed again on the sarcophagus. "I just hope to have the chance to tell it to her like she deserves. And maybe hear her say it back."
Lily took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, standing up. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"
"Yes." She nodded and headed to the stairs. "Lily." He called her and she stopped to watch him. "Thank you. For the blood and everything afterwards."
"You are welcome, Adrian." She leaned against the wall for a minute. "I just know how sad she would be seeing you like this." She stared at the sarcophagus one last time, thinking the same thing that has been in Adrian's mind the last two hours and couldn't dare to face it: how silent the coffin was, without even a faint heartbeat or shallow breathing coming from it. Almost like it was empty.
✨
#adrian raines#adrian raines x mc#adrian x amy#choices bloodbound#bloodbound mc#choices game#pixelberry studios#choices stories we play#playchoices#choices stories you play#pixelberry
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
November, 2001
Summary: George Harrison reunites with an old friend.
There was a chill in the air.
All but uncomfortable, it was still and cool and calm, his skin refusing to prickle up into chills. There was no wind, or rain—bright, but no sun. Just air, all around him, refreshing and energizing and soothing all at once.
His eyes were closed. As his body began to come into itself, familiar sensations tickled up his spine. The first thing he noticed was the press of his feet and backside on the ground—must have been sitting cross-legged—and the feeling of dry, rough linen under the fingertips that rested on his thighs. His skin prickled as it recognized the feel of the linen up his torso as well.
He shifted slightly, as if waking up from a deep sleep. There was a certain mindfulness in practice, hyper-aware of the environment of his body: the cool, smooth ground beneath him, the scratch of the clothing on his skin, the curl of hair against his ear, the tickle of a mustache on his upper lip. When did he grow a mustache?
Internally, he felt… warm, cozy, almost as though in a deep state of meditation. His mind itself was drowsy, though he hadn’t tried to assess the situation much beyond physical sensation. He didn’t feel the need to.
It was nice. Peaceful, really. George couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a strong mind-body connection during meditation. There was nothing that existed besides the present; he had no past, and there was no future. It was not one of those times where the mindfulness revealed some grand ethereal Wisdom, and thus it somehow contained more truth. It was nothing and everything all at once.
Rather than let him enjoy this newfound spirituality, a familiar voice (in familiar habit) drew him out of the trance.
“Never thought I’d see the likes of you again, mate!”
George languidly struggled to open his eyes, a half-fight as the voice dropped the silly tone and resorted to a short, sharp chuckle at his own antics. When the eyelids had finally pried themselves open and his vision focused, George frowned.
He looked like a picture, straight out of 1961. Standing before him, arms crossed as he bit his lip with childlike excitement at the reconciliation. George blinked, hardly believing the sight in front of him.
“John?”
“In the flesh,” he grinned. Then a pause. “Or, rather, anything but the flesh?”
John was in front of him, a quite young John, staring at him with a bit of a worried expectancy.
George’s stomach suddenly dropped.
His gaze flicked around the room wildly as unrestrained panic rose in his chest. They were in a room, though it wasn’t a room, just a dull white, not so much white as simply colourless, with no décor or wallpaper or flooring or furniture although somehow, he was now sitting in a chair.
He was dead.
John must have watched the color drain from his head, for he made his way over to where George was sitting and laid an uncertain hand on his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, nothing mocking. Nothing to make a joke of. “Takes a minute.”
George suddenly remembered he’d been sick. It was feeding back into him, slowly, as if each thought trigged a new repressed memory. He’d been sick for some time now. Images of nurses and hospital and IV’s and the dread of going to “treatment” began to flood his mind, and he shuddered. He felt a stubborn powerlessness rise within him: yes, it had gotten progressively worse, but it was nothing the old chap couldn’t handle. He’d beat it once already. He’d been stabbed, for Chrissake.
How could this happen?
He thought of Olivia, and Dhani, and choked back a sob.
“I don’t want to be here,” he spluttered in a near-beg, his chest tightening in terror once more. “I can’t be here.”
John’s hand dropped to his side as he almost (almost) rolled his eyes. He held up an imaginary list with one hand, gesturing wildly at it with the other. “Join the queue of nearly every person ever.”
George felt a needle of annoyance shoot through the fear that was slightly ebbing away. He half-wondered if this was the acceptance people talked about in death: the strange inability to control your emotions, your body progressively growing used to the idea and the knowledge of your own helplessness.
“You could stand to be a bit more empathetic, you know. I’ve just died,” he reminded with sarcastic flair.
John smiled brightly at the twinge of normalcy in the expression.
The fear was almost entirely faded now, which struck a new worry in his mind. He couldn’t just surrender to this already—it would solidify it. Make it too true. But the more he thought about it, the more comfortable he became. Against his own will, George was growing in acceptance, knowing that he should be worried but unable to feel the pull of anxiety within him. In an exasperating tug-of-war, he fought between the poles of acknowledgement and fear, a vicious feedback loop that left him confused and exasperated.
Maybe curiosity didn’t mean surrender. Maybe he could test John for some of the millions of queries floating around in his head whilst still protesting the concept of his state.
John was staring at him with wonder, almost as if he was watching George’s mind work.
Here goes nothing.
George looked at him pointedly, raising the most pressing question in his mind. “Is this Heaven?”
John blinked, and George recognized the infamous John-trying-not-to-laugh-because-this-was-a-very-extremely-serious-situation expression rise to his face. “Yes, George. It is. Jokes on you, religion, because Heaven is just me, and you, in this room, and sometimes we play marbles or jack off.”
His face turned more serious at George’s scowl. He went for a Take 2, his voice much softer now. “No, actually,” he corrected, scratching his cheek. “I think it’s some sort of… Purgatory. Bardo.”
George’s chest felt odd. “Purgatory,” he repeated slowly.
“Purgatory.”
“I don’t understand.”
John clicked his tongue. “Again, love. The queue.”
“Purgatory,” George said again, softly, the words dripping with disbelief.
“The in-between,” John elaborated with a grandiose wave of a hand. “You die, you fuck around here for a bit, and if you’re lucky, you pass on.”
George couldn’t contain his curiosity. “To what?”
John’s features twisted into a strange expression. “I, erm… I don’t know.”
George’s face fell. Right. “Do you…” He began carefully, mulling over the taste of the words in his mouth and sussing out which were the least bitter. “Does time pass the same, then? Here?”
John shrugged indifferently. “You don’t notice it, really. There’s no days or nights—time is a construct, anyway. Haven’t thought about it since. There’s also no expectation, so no boredom. And sometimes I see old friends.” He finished with a signal in George’s direction.
George nodded, swallowing dryly. He doesn’t know.
How long it’s been.
John caught his eye, and George flicked his gaze away in an instant before he could catch on. But John was quick as a cat, just like in youth, and his mouth pressed into a firm line. “George?”
George shook his head.
“George?” His voice was strained now, his demeanor thrown by the unsettling responses. “How long has it been? In-in actual time.”
Wincing at the question he knew he’d elicited, George averted his eyes and spoke near incomprehensibly. “Twenty years.”
John looked dazed.
After a long beat of silence, he snorted dryly. There was nothing humorous in the sound. “Suppose they’re still tryin’ to figure out what to do with me, then.” He paused. “For Chrissake, I already apologized in ’66.”
Neither man laughed at the joke. It was quiet for a long time.
“So.” John interrupted the stretch of silence, rather loudly, startling him. He clapped his hands together. “How’s Rings?”
George felt strangely hollow at the mention of his best friend. “Good. Married again, not long after you—” He stopped himself, unable to finish the sentence. It was still hard to wrap his mind around, all these years later. Even now, that John was standing in front of him, chipper as the day they’d first met (more so, perhaps). Even now, that they were both… “After you.”
“Is he?” John looked surprised, curious. “What’s she like?”
“Name’s Barbara. Ritchie made a film in ’81 called Cavemanand they met on the set. He really loves her. Oh, she’s fantastic,” George asserted, wishing John could have been there, needing John to have been there.
“Watch it,” John warned, his voice light and teasing.
George scowled.
John pushed his shoulder playfully, and George slumped further into the chair, defeated. As John’s laughter died down, George looked up at him and watched in fascination as the man did a complete 180.
The smile melted from his face, and a chill fell over the room.
“I—m…” John cleared his throat, offering the ground a watery smile. “I miss Paul.”
George was suddenly standing knee-deep in the ocean. Nothing in the room was different besides the knowledge that the water on the floor was Pacific. John was there still, only further away now, feverishly blinking the tears away with that desolate smile on his face. Before George could call out to him, comfort him, he turned back towards the expansive sea only to be confronted with a fifty-foot wave.
The breath was knocked from his chest as the wave crashed down with full force, heart shattering on impact. He let out an involuntary gasp at the sudden rush of pain that washed over his chest and began to stumble backwards, tears burning in his eyes. There was no water, no wave, and he was still standing, dry as a bone, but the sensation was all the same. Panic began to rise in his throat, blinded by an incomprehensible catalogue of torment, longing, anger, desperation, heartache. Every excruciating emotion simultaneously wrecked his being, coupled with the strangely overpowering feeling of raw, unabashed love.
John caught his arm, quickly pulling him into a hug. George hadn’t realized that he was close again, and gripped him tightly for fear of having him drift away with the tides that were no longer there. Tears streamed down his face as John stroked soothingly at his hair, muttering sweet comforts and apologies over his head.
“I’m sorry, fuck, mate, I’m sorry,” he babbled, trying to squeeze away George’s trembling sobs. “It works like that here, sometimes. Christ, I’m sorry. It’s all right. You’re all right.”
George sniffed, feeling like a child as he pressed closer into his friend’s body. “Works like what?”
John tensed a bit, though George couldn’t understand why. He spoke slowly, sure but hesitant in his explanation. “Emotions. They’re… different. It’s sort of like all that Hare Krishna unity bullshit—” George wrinkled his nose. “—and whatnot, the whole ‘collective unconscious’.”
George frowned at the implication, taking a tentative step back. “You mean…”
“Feel each other’s emotions, you can,” John answered without missing a beat. He spoke plainly, as if he’d explained this away hundreds of times before. “But there’s a historical aspect, too, that part I don’t quite understand. It only happens sometimes.” His eyes lit up as his voice quieted, mumbling to himself more so than George. “Maybe they had to have been there at the time? ‘Cause of the thing with Elvis…?”
George looked up at him in shock, ignoring John’s musings. “That was you? All that?”
John offered him a lopsided smile.
George’s heart began to pound in wild misunderstanding. He’d always known, of course, that John and Paul had that “special connection” that whisked them away to an entirely different reality. He’d grown up an outsider, watching in on the world’s most famous duo and feeling just like anyone else, at times. His stomach felt queasy and slightly bitter at the thought that perhaps he hadn’t even known the half of it.
All that for Paul?
He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to comfort John. John’s pain was gone now, replaced by only a dull ache, causing George to shudder at the idea of his mate going through that alone all those years ago.
“Paul’s… good,” he said, slightly unevenly. It felt like a good place to start.
John looked up at him quickly, his eyes both intrigued and desperate. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” George smiled. “He came to visit me. Not long…” His breath caught. “Not long before this.”
“I saw Linda,” John said quietly.
An image flashed in George’s mind of John in the very same room, sitting in a cushioned chair. In the vision, his eyes flicked up from the book in his hands, and he did a double-take, uncrossing his ankle from his knee and sitting up abruptly. Somehow, George knew that he was Linda, seeing John through her eyes. He—Linda—offered John a welcome, familial smile, and George noticed the portfolio of expressions on John’s face as the two radiated towards one another with emotions that George could not feel. And then—nothing.
In front of him now, John shifted uncomfortably, and George tried to get his bearings in the present once more. “She didn’t stay long.”
“It was hard,” George agreed, still trying to shake the vision. “She was the love of his life.”
John nodded, avoiding his eyes.
“He never stops talking about you.”
A beat. “I never stop thinking about him.”
Something passed between them. George wished he could go back in time and relive every Beatle moment together with this newfound information. Suddenly, as if they hadn’t before, things made sense: Paris, the LSD trips, India, the breakup. The songwriting feud. Yoko.
He understood now, that it was a complicated love that surpassed the boundaries of typical labels: no dating or marriageor sex, neither platonic nor romantic. There was a lust, but it was different than any other attraction George had experienced; it was motivated, driven by something much larger than himself. None of it was a means to an end—simply living, appreciating one another, taking it day by day until it imploded and rained down on them like a meteor shower, the disastrous aftermath of planned obsolescence. A love like that could never be.
George felt eager to change the subject.
“Have you seen lots of people passing through, then?” His gaze twitched away to offer the barest amount of privacy as John’s hand came up to quickly swipe a stray tear.
“Um, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You’d never believe—Elvis was here, when I first got here, which was right thrilling. We talked about everything under the sun for who-knows-how-long, but he left too not long after.” He nodded. “Linda. Some lads from school. Real nice chap named Freddie. He and I made a song together, though I can’t remember it now. He was in that up-and-coming rock group, the one on the tail end of the Beatles.”
“Queen,” George corrected, fascinated.
“No, that’s not it. I wanna say… Oh, you know who was a pleasure?” John switched onto this entirely new track, never missing a beat. “I met some psychologist. Taught me all about these fab concepts like behaviorism and operant conditioning and all that. I’d heard about his book, but I hadn’t read it until I met him. Verbal Behavior, is what it was. Real smart guy.”
“Do you see everyone?”
John thought for a moment. “No, certainly not. People die every minute. I’d be dreadfully overwhelmed.”
George smiled. “That is true. Lucky I showed up here, then.”
John returned the grin, almost sadly. “Yes, but you won’t stay long.”
George felt the strangest urge to reach for John’s hand. He suppressed it. “I want to.”
John shook his head. “You’re a good person, George.”
There were a lot of things to say in response. You are too, Johnny. I’m not a good person. We’ve both done some shit. ‘Good person’ is an arbitrary term because we are not our actions, so it wouldn’t matter, even.But nothing felt quite equipped to rival the emptiness of John’s eyes, so he said nothing.
“What do I look like, Geo?” He asked suddenly, staring a hole in George’s head with newfound curiosity.
The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”
John waved a hand dismissively as if it were the most normal question in the world. “Come on now, what do I look like?”
George just blinked. “Like… John.”
With a roll of eyes, John reached out and twirled a finger around the tip of George’s mustache. “You’re all Pepper-like. What about me?”
It suddenly occurred to George that this was not how John always looked, and hadn’t been for nearly forty years. He shifted a bit, startled at the realization. “Oh! Erm—Hamburg. Like we’d just stepped out of Top Ten.”
John grinned and stepped back. “Fascinating, isn’t it? It’s always different. That one, I can’t figure out. I first realized when Freddie asked why I looked like ’74 instead of when I died. I couldn’t give him an answer, on account of I hadn’t even realized that fact.”
George laughed, though it wasn’t funny. There was a giddiness bubbling up in him, mirroring the excitement with which John talked. He felt so bizarrely thrilled that his fingers began to tingle, and he chuckled at that too. The feeling rivaled that of a limb falling asleep, and he mindlessly shook his hand to quiet the growing sensation.
John’s face immediately fell.
George’s stomach dropped at the sudden change of pace. “What?”
His eyes were shining when he spoke the plea to anything that would listen. “No, please,” he muttered, lip trembling. Shaking fingers reached out to grasp at George’s bicep. “Not—not yet, I’m not ready—”
George’s heart hammered in his chest, hardly able to hear himself speak over the blood rushing in his ears. The tingle had snaked its way up his forearms now, and a similar feeling started in his toes. “John, John, what is it? What’s going on?”
“George, please don’t go. Please. This isn’t—it’s not long enough, I need you, I need more time, Geo…” The words trailed off, and a tear fell from each eye as John pulled him into his arms as if that could keep George there. As if he could save them.
George slowly started to understand, swallowing the alarm at John’s frantic reaction. He was going to pass on, to leave John behind just like everyone else in his life. But this was a different kind of departure. It was not Julia’s absence, Mimi’s coldness, Paul’s Linda. It was not even Uncle George’s death, or Brian’s death, or even Julia’s death. At least, those times, he could find someone, something new to latch on to.
George would have felt pity for the man if not for the immense heartbreak, the indescribable pain of watching John come emotionally undone before him.
“It’s okay,” he soothed, blinking as a falling tear graced his own face. He felt oddly in control of the situation, despite seconds away from venturing into the greatest Unknown of all Unknowns. “Shh, John, it’s all right. Listen, we got to do this, didn’t we? We got to talk. And laugh. Just like old times, right?”
John’s voice broke. “I love you, Geo. Don’t go.”
They both knew it was a fruitless request.
George gripped him a bit harder in the embrace, feeling with hopeless acceptance as the tingling feeling reached his shoulders and began to pour down his back. He spoke the only thing that would come to mind.
“I’ll see you,” he whispered, a promise tainted by his own fearful tears slipping onto John’s shoulder.
John’s arms tightened around his waist. “I’ll see you,” he repeated.
#the beatles#beatles fanfiction#george harrison#john lennon#death tw#afterlife tw#purgatory/bardo setting#paul mccartney (mentioned)#ringo starr (mentioned)#elvis presley (mentioned)#freddie mercury (mentioned)#linda mccartney (mentioned)#yoko ono (mentioned)#bf skinner (mentioned)#this made me sad to write but i also love it
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)
Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!
Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.
Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)
Risotto
Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.
Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.
Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.
At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.
Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.
But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.
Prosciutto
Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.
Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.
Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.
The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.
At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.
Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.
When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.
Sorbet and Gelato
Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.
Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.
By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.
Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.
When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.
Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.
One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.
They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.
What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.
Formaggio
A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.
One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.
Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.
Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.
Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.
Ghiaccio
Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.
When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.
Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.
At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.
Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.
And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?
Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.
The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.
Illuso
He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.
When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.
At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.
Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.
Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.
But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.
But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.
Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.
Melone
The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.
In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.
Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.
Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.
The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.
Pesci
By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.
Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.
When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.
As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?
Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.
Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.
And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.
#la squadra#la squadra di esecuzione#formaggio#illuso#prosciutto#pesci#melone#ghiaccio#risotto nero#sorbet and gelato
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sirius Black x reader (And yet...)
A/N: Never written a Sirius fanfic before hope you enjoy.
Warnings: themes of death and death threats.
Word count: 1331
Master list
12 years. It had only been 12 years. 12 years since you became a professor. 12 years since your friends were murdered. 12 unbelievable years of pain. 12 excruciating years of overwhelming loneliness... It felt longer than that.
You heard muffled yelling from above you, with a wand at the ready, you crept up the stairs.
"Don't be a fool, Severus!"
"He can't help it. It's habit by now."
"Quiet, Sirius!"
The voices became clearer the closer you got. You didn't know how many people were there at that moment but you guessed 3.
A Black, slender figure is what you saw at first. Greasy black hair and their skin was as white as a sheet of parchment. Your lips contorted into a snarl at the sight of the man. If you could even call him that.
He clicked his tongue and growled through gritted teeth. "Listen to you two. Quarrelling like an old married couple. The creature and the criminal."
The second person you saw was tall. From where you stood all you could see were male and lanky. Had to be Remus, He was the only one that was supposed to be there.
"Piss off." a gruff voise spat. Severus strode over to the figure, pushing his wand into their neck.
You sneaked another couple of steps closer to the Wizards, curious to see what you were dealing with. Then you got to the door frame, the more you could see.
The shack had seen better days. A thick layer of dust blanketed everything in the room from the piano to probably multiple corpses of rotting animals.
"Witty as ever I see. " Severus snarled. "Tell me, will you be so irreverent when I turn you over to the Dementors? Do I detect a flicker of fear? One can only imagine what it must be like to endure the Dementor's Kiss. It's said to be unbearable to witness. But I'll do my best."
Before you could think, a flash of light exploded from your wand that sent the black-clothed professor soar through the air and land on the floor with a thud.
The room was still. You felt your heart pound in your chest from the adrenalin that was pumping through you. Multiple pairs of eyes were on you but there were only 1 that you cared about at that moment.
12 years... And there he was, stood right in front of you. The same smile he always had, plastered on his lips. You had imagined this moment so many times that you couldn't even tell the difference between your thoughts and reality anymore.
Your jaw began to tremble at the sight of him. He was so pale, so sickly. His once sparkling eyes were glazed over with pain and had sunken into his skull. It had to be real. Your mind wasn't cruel enough to make that sight up... but you still weren't sure.
"(Y/N)!" He breathed, stepping towards you.
"We don't have time for this! You said Peter before. Peter who?" That's when you saw the children. Why were they here? who brought them here? And Peter, of all people why were they talking about peter?
"Pettigrew. He was at school with us. We thought he was a friend."
" No. Pettigrew's dead. He killed him." Sirius laughed mirthlessly at the accusation.
"I thought so, too. Until you mentioned seeing Pettigrew on the Map."
"The Map was lying then --"
"The Map never lies, Harry. Sirius said stumbling over his own feet. "Pettigrew's alive. And he's right there."
His arm extended to point at Ron. Said boy pretty much cacked his pants when he saw your once teary eyes turn black with anger.
"ME? That's mental..."
"Not you. Your rat!"
That's when it all fell into place for you. You understood right then and there what was going on and what was about to happen.
"Scabbers? Scabbers has been in my family for " "Twelve years." you said angrily walking up to the red-headed boy with Sirius in toe.
"A curiously long life for a common garden rat. He's missing a toe, isn't he?"
"So what?" The redhead asked, holding his rat protectively at his side.
"All they could find of Pettigrew was his finger, Ron," you answered, eyes still fuming with rage as they pinned themselves to squirming creature.
"Dirty coward cut it off so everyone would think he was dead. Then he transformed into a rat."
Harry stared into Black's sunken eyes. He wanted to believe. He was desperate to believe.
"Show me." The boy ordered.
With that, Lupin took out his wand and, as one, he and Black cast a stream of BLUE-WHITE LIGHT. Scabbers twisted madly in midair, then -- FLASH! -- transforms into... a very short man with thinning hair and grubby hands.
"R-Remus...S-Sirius. My old friends." Pettigrew said. As his watery eyes darted towards the windows and door. Suddenly, he made a break for it, but Sirius merely shoves him back. Pettigrew's nose twitched rapidly, his eyes landed on you. His hands fluttered nervously, revealing his missing finger.
"(Y/n)... my dear, sweet (Y/n)" he said scurrying towards you. Both Sirius and Remus were about to intervene until you held up your hand in a stop motion. Peter had always been smaller and weaker than you, so when you were younger you took it upon yourself to protect him. He must have thought you were going to help him but your intentions were entirely opposite.
"You know me, you know, more than anyone else that I couldn't hurt a fly..." He suddenly stopped his sentence when he felt the tip of your wand blunge itself into a layer of fat he called his neck. The fake smile you had for a second quickly morphed into a deadpan expression.
"You sat in my classroom. You watched me teach" Everyone could practically see the fire that seethed inside of you as you pushed the rat into the centre of the room.
"You stood by and watched 2 of my best friends die. And you watched as my HUSBAND got taken away to a place where I wouldnt condemn my worst enemy... So.. don't you dare come to me, begging for pity because that died with Lily and James." If Wormtail wasn't scared before then he was terrified after that. He was shaking from head to toe as you, Remus and Siriuses wands were pointed right at him.
---------------------------------------------------------------
12 years since he had seen you. 12 years since kissed you, held you and yet...there you were, still as beautiful as the day he was taken (even with the messy hair and angry eyes). It took everything in him to not hold you tight and never let you go and when you and the children got outside into the crisp evening air, he made sure you knew it.
He didn't care about Perter or Remus or the Children, he just wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a long-awaited kiss.
A flood of emotions hit you all at once: shock since you weren't expecting it, anger because of what had just transpired, relief, horror, fear, happiness and they all came across in that one, long loving kiss.
"Sirius, darling" you said in a voice so quiet it could've been considered a whisper. "You need a bath"
He let out a hearty chuckle, laughing into your shoulder as you refused to let him go. you laughed along with him.
"Professor (Last name), You know him?" Harry asked in a calm tone.
Sirius looked at you in amusement for a moment. "Went back to the maiden name did you?"
You rolled your eyes at him and rested your head against his.
In the 3 years harry had attended Hogwarts, he had never seen you have a wormer smile on your face as you did then.
"Harry Potter, allow me to introduce you to your God-Father and my Husband, Sirius Black.
#sirius black x reader#sirius black#sirius black fluff#Sirius#prizoner of azkaban#sirius black smut#fluff#kisses#harry potter#marauders x reader#marauders
250 notes
·
View notes
Text
25 - Just Chatting...
Hello one and all.
It's been a long time since I graced these pages and, believe it or not, nothing much has been happening in my life, apart from the odd soiree or two. Winter has finally left us and spring has sprung, and it's nice to see the sun again. Let's start by wishing my old mate a happy birthday and I hope you all had a little drinkie for him, I know I did. In fact I got legless, he would have been proud of me. Whenever we were in London there was always a party at Fred's on his birthday, be it a handful of friends, or one where he invited half of Britain, but which ever one it was there was always a good time to be had and a lot of chaos. One year he actually took over Pikes Hotel in Ibiza and chartered a private plane to fly his friends in. Roger and myself were already on the island recording some of his solo stuff so we didn't have far to travel to the bash. When I say we were working, it's kind of true as we spent a lot of time on his boat "Ga Ga" whizzing around having lunch and fun. The party was held outside around the swimming pool, now is that an invite for trouble or what? There were hundreds of balloons hanging from every available fixture, and of course there is always an idiot that thinks he's a clown. This particular clown, who will remain nameless, decided it would be funny to light one of the balloons, and needless to say the whole lot went up in flames. Phoebe and Crystal to the rescue. We had to get this "fire" off the wooden rafters before the whole hotel went up in smoke, so we were pulling bits of string while burning rubber was dripping down on us. I was so traumatised by the whole event I had to have another drink ....... a lame excuse I know, but hey, it's my story. Back to the pool. Edwin Shirley, of trucking fame and also an all round good guy after a few too many, decided to have a swim, so he removed his clothing and was flapping around the pool when some daft countess told him to get dressed and behave himself. Wrong move lady. Edwin was not impressed by his telling off and threw her in, and she was even less impressed with that and started ranting and raving, much to the amusement to the rest of the party hounds. She left with her tail between her legs and didn't look at all glamorous in her soaking wet dress, running makeup and failed hairdo. We continued till mid morning and went straight to the airport and caught a flight home. Thanks F for the great parties and good times, you will never be forgotten.
I still get asked a lot if I'm gonna write the "Real" story about Queen. Well the answer is no, and the reason is that the guys gave me a great job and a great life and I have far to much respect for them, their wives/girlfriends, children and families to tell the world what we got up to in private. I feel that is our business and ours alone. Most of us are all in relationships and telling tales could make life awkward for a few people, band and crew alike. I'm sure at some point in time someone from the organisation will write a book, have 5 minutes of fame and make a quick buck, but it sure as hell won't be me, and I'll still be able to sleep at night and when I see the guys I will still be free to say, "Wanna beer MATE."
I've had a few questions asked me that I'm gonna answer quickly.
First off is "Do you have any stories about Freddies cats? (ripping furniture etc.)" Here's a good reply, No. So moving right along, "Of all the famous people you've met, who impressed you the most?" Tricky one this. After years in this "Biz" they all become "Just normal people," and some become good pals, but on one occasion I was in Paul McCartneys studio and I was handed his violin bass and I was sitting there holding it when someone said, "Paul is left handed, hold it like he would." When I turned it around, still taped in the cutout was the Beatles set list from their days in Hamburg, now that impressed me.
Deaky and myself were the only two reggae lovers in the outfit, and Bob Marley turned up to see the show at Madison Square Gardens. Strange choice of show for Bob, but he loved Another one bites the dust, and he happened to be in New York on a stopover on his way to Germany for laser treatment. Show time and our intro tape was playing, and someone told JD that Bob was in the audience, so he cranked his bass up and played "Lively up yourself" over the tape. This was very possibly the last time Marley ever heard this played as he died shortly after. I didn't get to meet him, but I did get to meet Tyrone Downie, Bobs keyboard player in the Wailers, and Tyrone and myself got up to all sorts of mischief that night. RT on the other hand hates reggae music, but I did manage to drag him to the Circus Krone in Munich to see Peter Tosh. I loved it, he hated it. I look at this as payback because years before he insisted that I went to Hammersmith Odeon to see Laurie Anderson, of O Superman fame. This show he loved, but I put it alongside Cher as one of the worst concerts I have ever seen. Needless to say I have also met a couple of stars that I didn't see eye to eye with. Like the American rock star we encountered in a club one night, and he was such a pain I had to take him into the toilets to have a quiet word with him. He finally got the message so I released my hand from around his neck and let him drop back down to the ground. To finish this segment I wanna tell you something that Bev Bevan said. Bev was the drummer with ELO, and them and us were touring the US at the same time, and as it turned out, staying in the same hotel in one city. Roger and myself were leaving the hotel and waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened Bev was in there and him and RT said their hellos. Rog then said, "Bev, this is Crystal, he looks after me." Bev turned to me, shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you. If it wasn't for guys like you, guys like us wouldn't be where we are today." He didn't need to say that, and was genuine when he did. I wasn't impressed with meeting him, but he is certainly in my top ten of nicest people I have ever meet.
Over the last few months I've spent a lot of time in the Chatroom, and I highly recommend it to you all as it can be a bit of a laugh. For anyone who has never visited the room please remember a couple of things, if you come in and start swearing you will be kicked out. I know, it happens to me all the time. Also don't come in and start going on about knowing axemen and murderers and other such garbage, cause that also warrants a kicking. Some buffoon from Ireland, who went by the name of "Death" turned up with an attitude and was going on about how f***ing awesome Queen were at Slane Castle. He was not known by anyone in there so I asked him to watch his language. He said he was the Grim Reaper and could do and say what he liked, so I told him otherwise and he was most put out when I kicked him. What a fool. A while ago there was some prat who called himself F***queen, good name eh! Anyway, he/she/it was picking on a lovely young lady called Raisa, and was saying some awful things to her and completely freaked her out, so I went to her defence and FQ turned the attention my way. As far as I'm concerned it's only letters on a screen and it didn't phase me at all, but at least he/she/it gave up on Raisa. In all fairness to FQ, whoever you may be, he/she left a message on the Bulletin Board saying sorry to Raisa and myself and would never do it again. So FQ, from the both of us, thanks for the apology, we accept it. What other weirdos have we had? Well, there was a brightspark who decided it would be funny to use the nickname QueenRshite, another bad move from this person who was honoured with a ban.
While in there I've seen a lot of friendships made, and a couple that have fallen apart. I got a private message one evening from a very drunk girl who, how shall we phrase this, offered me her body and wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to me, I thanked her and declined...must be getting old or something. I have also witnessed relationships being made and, usually there is a lot of humour involved, but needless to say some arguments do occur. I have also seen some of the daftest things said. One guy was so convinced that one of the regulars was either Deaky or she was chatting with him in private that he actually started tracking her every move on the net. He also told me about some highly illegal activities he was up to concerning the band. I wouldn't have thought I was the best person to tell such stuff to, and needless to say I had a go at him. Just to add to his stupidity he's been recently boasting about his affair with an underage girl, and I reckon if he had any more sense he would be half witted. Having mentioned all the twits I'd like to say a quick hello to all the regulars, White Queen and Killer Queen, the lovely girls Blue Rock and Rannnnnnni, SQJan, Mayflower and her boys, Farookh (aka Leroy Brown) MarshMallow, the three Tigers - Babe, Lily and Stripes and the mighty Falc, also to all the rest who I haven't mentioned by name, you know who you are. I'd also like to say hi to Daddy Cool who is the singer in the Dutch cover band Miracle, and Dad, if you never make it as a singer you could make a great career from being a stand up comedian. Finally an extra special hello to the gorgeous MTB, who is about to make an honest man of me ;)
Before I go I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone of a certain date in November that is engraved in all of our minds. And I know that a lot of you will be heading to Garden Lodge to leave flowers. I don't wanna preach and tell you what to do, and I know flowers are a nice gesture, but they do die and the only people to really benefit from this is the florist. This year lets all give a donation, no matter how small, to Aids research, this way the cash will be used to try and stamp out this awful disease. If you really wanna leave flowers, buy a smaller, cheaper bunch and donate the balance of what you would have spent to these charities. It's been said a million times before but it is true, Every penny counts.
As always, Loadsa Love.
Crystal
40 notes
·
View notes