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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 3 years

Text

look i didn’t want to be a sour kid

god, it's brutal out here: and percy jackson knows what that means. scars on his body like pulled threads. calluses on his palms from pens that turn into swords, coins that turn into weapons, hands that curl into fists. walking home after an annoying day at school and having to fight the troll on the bridge. you must give me something in order to pass my territory. he gives it death. it gives him another shirt to wash blood stains out of. gods with too much arrogance giving him quests with too little return policy. body that doesn't want to cooperate after he blows up a mountain. body that wants to move too fast when he needs to follow a plan. heart that gets broken and rebuilt with different materials every day. god it’s brutal out here: and percy jackson knows it’s brutal in here too.

traitor: and percy jackson has never felt a word more like a branding in his entire life. he thinks back to the summer he turned thirteen and he sees scorpion tails flashing behind his eyelids. and he sees blonde hair and sometimes he can't differentiate between her and him and them and him. and he sees a scar and he wonders if the cut was deep enough to lose goodness. and he thinks maybe he wouldn’t have minded so much if someone had just told him what was going on. and that makes him a traitor too. and he sees it now, how easily he would succumb to the scorpion tail. how he would welcome the bliss of losing his goodness. who’s to say it’s true goodness anyway? and he remembers the red curls and the summer of beach walks and glass houses and the look of betrayal when plastic hairbrush meets yankees cap. is he a traitor then? to his own feelings? surely not. must be. neither of them liked it. he liked them. traitor, but to who? and remembers the day he left a girl on an island and promised to help her and couldn’t in the end. he remembers eyes of fire at his incompetence. and he is a betrayer. but only to others. traitor: and percy jackson thinks he’s never really betrayed anyone but himself.

got my driver’s license: and percy jackson is growing up so fast his limbs can't keep up. one leg is slightly longer than the other and it makes him clumsy. his left hand is bigger than his right and he uses it to punch. he flies a pegasus for the first time and he understands why mortals are always so angry. they will never know this unbridled freedom. and he gets kissed by a girl and he thinks his skin understands the heat of the sun. and his hair becomes curls instead of waves and he has to clip it> push it> tie it back because it keeps getting in his eyes. and his mom asks him if he wants “blue cake this year?” and he has to tell her he’ll never be too old for it because she’s scared he’s going to grow out of her love. he is not. and paul teaches him how to read a book without feeling like his eyes are drowning and he can’t believe he’s learning to read in high school. and he is moving through the days like water, finding a way around everything. got my driver’s license: and percy jackson knows it’s only a matter of time before he gets a death sentence too.

it’s always one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson is waking up with no sense of who he is. he is carrying a goddess on his back and he doesn’t even know who his mother is. he is stepping across a river and erasing the curse of indestructible. he is again a demigod with too much vulnerability and not enough care. and he is being flung to an island where time doesn’t move and he doesn’t want to either. and he is healing like he never has before. and he is leaving and not even the girl who loves him can keep him there because he loves another girl and she doesn’t know she loves him back. and he is taking the sky from a friend and he is giving the sky to a goddess and he is leaving a hunter to see the stars and he is watching a new hunter evade the fate they are cursed with. and he was relieved from this burden for one brief second in time. burden of what? burden of sky? burden of prophecy? burden of death? and they are all handed back to him, presented with no other option. they are not the weights in the balancing scale. they are the scale and he is the weights. one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson wonders if he can go far back enough to erase his own existence.

i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is hurtled to summers spent in a camp, next to a girl, next to a satyr, next to a friend. and he is living his life in montauk with his mom and he is watching red hair fly in the wind, paint smudges on their skin. and he is remembering how everything is different every year but he can still see the fire wall from his cabin and the smell of wild strawberries is the only thing his scent receptors know how to identify. and he knows solstice could bring death or happiness and he’s starting to think one doesn’t exist and one exists too much. and he sees people who love him and show it in ways he knows. blue candy has never been a complicated feeling. and doesn’t see people who love him in ways he doesn’t know. seaweed brain, let me come with you into the labyrinth, become praetor with me. and he thinks his childhood disappeared the day his mother was kidnapped and is it possible to have déjà vu if you’ve never lived enough to experience something once. and he thinks maybe the god of the sun gets déjà vu every time he pulls the star across the sky because it’s all about warmth isn’t it? your body’s way of saying we’ve been here before and we survived. i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is sure he has lived a thousand lives in this one alone.

good for you: and percy jackson is craving a life that doesn’t involve this madness. he is jealous of the kid in his science class that accidentally knocks over the bunsen burner and only gets a disapproving look from the teacher. his nose bleed starts a war. he is jealous of the neireids that simply become the water and wait for the world to stop burning itself to the ground. you look happy and healthy and he looks like he’s missing five years of his life and no way of moving forward. he is tired and he wants to sleep but the last time he did that it was six months later and he couldn’t remember anything. and he wants to sink to the bottom of the ocean but he is still exhaling mud because he drowned in sludge once. and he is too young to be this exhausted but. good for you: and percy jackson wants to become the villain.

all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is struggling with the expectations people who don't know him want him to have. he is twelve and the teacher hands back a test face down and he knows he’s going to shove it into the pit of his bag before he can be scathed by a red pen. he is thirteen and his mother has finally given herself the hero ending she deserves but he is still this little kid who doesn’t know how to handle the world and if she doesn’t need him to protect her what is his purpose? he is a teenager watching people have silent conversations about his fate and getting no replies when he asks too. as if it is ridiculous to involve himself in these discussions. he can't be the one, it’s not possible. and wait she is here, from her tree grave. no, she is gone, to her hunter fate. wait they are here from their timeless casino. no she is gone and he is young. far too young. and he can’t do this and he can’t do that and he isn’t there yet, not powerful, too reckless, too loyal. the monsters realise his potential and use it to hurt him. the people don't realise his potential and wish he would use it. all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is too far gone to be of use.

i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson cannot fall in love unless it’s with her. and he has seen the beauty of people and he wants to keep them all close and he doesn’t know how to do it because she keeps him in her grasp. deathly afraid of spiders she says but she has built a web so big he can't move without getting caught. and he goes to a scorned girl on a secluded beach and he likes the way her eyes sparkle in the sun, how she plants the same way his mother does and he leaves her there because she doesn’t have a storm in her gaze. and he loses his memory and remembers only her and he knows it’s inescapable. and maybe he kind of loves it. nobody has ever really given him a choice anyway. at least this one he can love. i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson has never known happier anyway.

jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson is surrounded by the best. he is in a camp dedicated to people like him and he is still at the bottom. and he is on a quest that makes him the main perpetrator but he is still being puppeted along. and he cant help but wonder if he will turn out like the boy with the scarred face. and he cant help but wonder if he’ll turn out like the girl who grabbed a figurine. and he can't help but wonder if he’ll become a monster or a hero and what’s the difference really. everyone is fighting for a cause. it’s just the matter of whose side you're on. and he wants to know what will happen if he just lets go. he wants to be like the people who follow their cause. instead he is doing biddings. he is following orders. he is making things right. jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson wants to know if he can be jealous of his own dreams.

i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson is a little kid with a long record. he is on the news plastered as a criminal endangering others, blowing up a bus. it is not the last destruction he causes. he learns to get clever about it. and he is on the news sobbing about his generous stepdad. generous about the bruises he administers, and the words he spits. generous about his appliances. and he is on the news for jumping off a bridge too high to survive. and he doesn’t really know if he will survive but when is he ever really sure he’s going to survive anyway? at least this was a choice. and he is always a criminal unable to plead his innocence. i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson wonders if anyone cares about the injustices against him.

you're okay: and percy jackson is staring at his reflection in the rippling water and he knows it’s time to forgive himself. he was just a child. with far too much responsibility and far too much guilt. he had seen death before he’d had his first kiss. he had felt pain before he felt comfort. he had never known safety. and now he is old enough to go wherever he wants and do whatever he wants and he has to forgive himself first. because he was just a kid with a hundred targets on his back and only a fierce need to survive protecting him. you’re okay: and percy jackson knows he will be.

#percy jackson #percy jackson bday 2021 #percy jackson bday #pjjg percy jackson bday #percy #jackson #pjo #hoo #olivia rodrigo #sour #sour olivia rodrigo #if you repost this on instagram please take my pjo account: perseusandjason #thank you!#*lmao tag not take wow tumblr why do you hate me

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kythed · 3 years

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synopsis: it’s a tragic case of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl has a boyfriend. [un]luckily for you, semi doesn’t play by the rules... and you don’t really want him to.

tagged: semi eita x reader, fluff, mediocre writing.

commitment level: 2,583 words.

table of contents | next chapter >>

They say young love is a rite of passage. They say it’s fresh and light, it’s wading in the shallows of a swiftly flowing river and letting the deliciously frigid water take you wherever it flows. They say young love comes easily.

But they don’t tell you youth is not a remedy for pain. They don’t tell you the cold of that water burns your skin, too — it leaves your fingertips numb and kisses your palms an angry red. They say “it’s just puppy love,” but they don’t tell you puppies grow into wolves.

You’re eighteen when you first meet Semi Eita, and he’s twenty-two. It’s not a highly significant age gap, but it’s noticeable enough.

“She’s a baby,” he says, eyes grey as the southern sea and just as unforgiving. Though he’s young, the weight of an iron giant rests on his slender shoulders.

“She’s talented, Semi,” says Akamine, tone wheedling. He fiddles with the lapels of his coat — it’s Italian, all cream silk and bronze buttons. “She’s capable.”

Twenty year old Akamine Keo is a trust-fund kid, born into the arms of an oil empire he’ll someday fall heir to. He’s charming, clever, and sweet, with distinctly expensive good looks, fine features and black hair like raven’s feathers. He also happens to be your boyfriend.

“That means nothing,” Semi says, peering into your face. An uncomfortable chill tickles the back of your neck as you fight the urge to look away. “There are toddlers who can shred Led Zeppelin, but they’re not musicians. They’re puppets controlled by overzealous tiger moms. They can’t take the heat of the real industry.”

“I can take the heat.” Your words bleed out heavy and sharp, a rough gash through the palpably thick tension. Fingernails leaving painful half-moons on your palms, you clench and unclench your fists down at your sides. “And I can sure as hell shred better than any toddler.”

For a split second, surprise flashes across Semi’s face, only to be quickly replaced by a wry smile. “Brave.”

You stare at him, lips sucked in and eyes narrowed as Akamine slings an arm over your shoulders and presses a kiss to your temples.

“See?” he says with a laugh. “She’s talented, capable, and brave.”

“Well,” says Semi, drawing the word out. He cocks his head, giving you one last hard once-over, before extending a hand for a firm shake. “We’ll see. I’ll give you two months. A trial.”

You accept this compromise, returning the shake. Semi’s still skeptical, you can tell, but you make a vow to yourself — you’re about to blow this sonuvabitch out of the water. As Akamine crows in delight, Semi’s eyes don’t leave yours.

Good luck, they seem to be saying. You’ll need it.

You smile, and he smiles back.

I won’t.

Semi’s a phenomenal bassist. When you’d first started dating Akamine and he’d just joined Semi’s band, he could scarcely shut up about it — “His name’s Semi Eita, and I swear he’s got magic in those fingers, babe.”

Well, Semi Eita’s about to be dethroned, because your fingers are magic, too.

For those two months, you’re the band’s lead guitarist, and you pass Semi’s test with flying colors. It takes a couple weeks to fall into step with the other guys — Semi on bass, Akamine on drums, and a quiet college kid called Yasuda on keys — but you’re a quick study, and soon you’re a cornerstone, expertly weaving searing arpeggios of dashed dreams and fiery hopes up and down the band’s underlying tunes.

(You should’ve seen it coming.)

You and Semi somehow become co-songwriters. He has a knack for melodies, and you have a knack for lyrics. Akamine doesn’t seem to mind the long hours you spend in Semi’s company, working in a whirlwind of messy notes and empty energy drink cans — he trusts you.

(Sometimes you feel like maybe he shouldn’t.)

“What do you think of this?” Semi says, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. It’s 10pm on a Friday night, and you’re stretched out on his couch, inhaling chow mein from a greasy paper box. “For the second verse, I mean.”

“Lemme see,” you say around a mouthful of noodles, snatching the paper from his hand. You furrow your brow. “‘Tear me open like a scarlet letter, cruelly addressed ‘return to sender…’’ Jeez, Semi. Who hurt you?”

Semi scowls. “It’s a breakup song, isn’t it? It’s supposed to hurt.”

“You might consider being a little more… subtle,” you suggest, offering him a fortune cookie. He takes it and sets it aside.

“Heartbreak isn’t subtle,” he says, shooting you a look that speaks of throbbing phantom wounds. “It cuts deep. All the way down to the heart. Hence the name heartbreak.”

“Wow. I had no idea,” you say drily. You swing your legs over the couch and sit upright, snatching his pencil. “I just think we should tackle this with nuance, not just write another ‘eff you’ ballad.”

“This world can always use another ‘eff you’ ballad,” Semi says humorlessly, resting his chin in his hand.

You regard his suddenly silent demeanor as he stares, unseeing, out the window. It’s dark outside, and it’s a darkness that speaks less of peaceful sleep and more of emptiness.

You sigh, nudging him with your foot. “What was her name?”

“What?”

“Her name. This demon of a girl that hurt you so badly.”

For a moment, it seems he’s going to argue, to deny ever being afflicted with something so childish as lovesickness. Then he runs a defeated hand through his hair and shakes his head, laughing. “You’re too curious for your own good.”

You wait. There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence as Semi chews his lip.

“...Her name was Aiko,” he says finally, inspecting his nails with a faux nonchalance. “Smokin’ hot. Met her in music school three or so years ago, I think — she was a TA, a few years older than I was.”

“Older women, huh?” you tease. This is new territory — you’re dipping a toe into the forbidden arena of flirtation. A shadow of guilt creeps into the back of your mind as you think of Akamine, but the bright light of Semi’s crooked grin swiftly flushes it away.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over to flick your leg. “I don’t date babies like you.”

“Maybe you should consider it,” you say, unthinking. Semi stares at you, eyebrow raised, and you flush, frantically backtracking. “Not me specifically. I’m just saying — well, I mean, ‘cause this Aiko chick was such a bad time and everything.”

“If you have a crush on me, just admit it,” Semi says. You’re sure it’s meant to come across jokingly, but the way he’s eyeing you twists your stomach into a pleasurable knot. Then he sighs, leaning back on his arms. “She was a great time, actually. It’s the ending that sucked ass.”

The question lingers at the tip of your tongue, hesitant like an ill-trained acrobat, but before it even attempts the leap, Semi answers.

“It burned.” He looks straight at you, and you can taste the bitterness in his words. “It burned, and not a day goes by that I can’t remember how awful it felt.”

That’s the first of the many secrets you trade with him.

Later that night, you tell Semi about your first kiss, about how the recipient smelled like Old Spice and tasted like chapstick, how he walked you to your front door and introduced himself to your mom. About how he took your virginity six months later, and how you soon realized there are some things in life you don’t get an exchange receipt for.

Semi tells you his favorite color is green, and that outer space scares him more than anything. (He doesn’t like thinking about life in other galaxies because he can hardly handle thinking about life right here.)

You tell him you like milk tea with 75% sweetness, and he promises he’ll take you to his favorite cafe sometime. (“Not a date,” he assures you, and you internally scold yourself for wishing it was one.)

He says he once accidentally kicked a stray cat while trying to find a volleyball he lost in the bushes near his house, and that’s why he considers himself a cat person now: as repentance. (He has a pet cat called Haru, and he shows you a picture — Haru is small and black with bright yellow eyes. You say he’s cute, but Semi corrects you: “Not cute. Fierce.”)

You say you used to wish life had a restart button, so you could turn back time and dance through each year without making a single mistake.

Semi says he still wishes that.

(Another thing they don’t tell you is how secrets are really currency. Secrets can’t help but pay for familiarity, and familiarity often leads to something more.)

It’s a couple weeks later when you have your first gig. It’s at a bar downtown, and Yasuda nabs fakes for you and Akamine, though you don’t plan on drinking. Not much, anyways.

(Speaking of Akamine, your relationship with him has grown strained over the past month. He’s stretched himself thin between the band and his business degree, and you — well, whenever your phone pings, you can’t stop hoping it’s from Semi.)

Five minutes before show time, Semi turns to you, eyes wide. “We don’t have a band name.”

“What?”

“We don’t have a band name.” He looks around, frantically trying to draw inspiration from something in the dimly lit bar. “Quick, think of something.”

So you think for a moment, chewing your inner cheek, before reaching out and tugging on Semi’s sleeve. “Paper.”

“Paper?”

“Paper.”

Paper is fragile, it’s thin, it’s easy to come by. But it’s also a world of potential on one sheet, a story waiting to be written.

When the bar owner walks onto the stage and introduces the band, you know you’ve made the right decision. And from the glittering smile Semi flashes you before nodding at Akamine to count you in, you know he thinks so too.

The show goes on without a hitch, and even though the bar is far from packed, you’re just as proud as you’d be playing in a stadium of screaming fans. The air smells of stale whiskey and fresh beginnings, and as your fingers dance up and down your Gibson’s fretboard, you hear colors — rich teal, smooth mahogany, creamy gold and silver brighter than the stars. Akamine keeps the rhythm like a war drum, and Semi, as always, is perfect. Yasuda, doubling as the main vocalist, sings until his voice gets wonderfully low and raspy, keyboard taking some of the heat as he grins back at you, mouthing how badly his throat hurts.

You’re sweaty when the set’s done, and Akamine buys you a drink, giving you a quick, half-hearted kiss and a tired smile.

Akamine’s always been kind to you.

“I gotta go,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Essay due tomorrow at ten.”

He looks so genuinely sorry to leave, you almost feel guilty.

You’re packing up your amps into the back of Semi’s van, alone in the parking lot save for the moon many miles above, hanging bright and full in a clear sky. The moon has seen all your most indulgent sins, and she’s going to see one more tonight.

“You did well.” Semi heaves the last of the equipment into his truck before turning to you, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Consider me impressed.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, giving him a mock bow. “So glad I’ve finally managed to impress the Semi Eita.”

He regards you for a moment, arms crossed. A small sigh escapes his lips. It’s both a sigh of resignation and one of anticipation.

Then, in one smooth motion, he steps close, reaches out, and pulls you close by the waist.

You stare up at him, all too aware of the heat radiating from his body. His skin is burning, and his cologne is different from Akamine’s — it’s not expensive, it’s not a multilayered, deep, woody scent. It’s cheap, the sort of cologne a struggling musician can afford, but it smells of home.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” he whispers, sliding a hand up your jaw to cup your face. His hair glows silver and ghostly under the streetlamps.

“And what are you about to do?” Your voice is deadly quiet, and your chest feels a deathly cold despite Semi’s proximity, refusing to thaw as you await his answer.

“Kiss you absolutely senseless.”

Semi’s never been one to make empty promises, and right now is no exception. He presses his lips to yours and you immediately melt into his arms, suddenly craving him and only him. You’re not entirely sure how you’ve managed to avoid devouring him whole up until this point, because he kisses like Eros, full of pomegranate seeds and crimson blossoms, of days spent in clandestine bliss. He kisses like a man on death row, desperate and longing, hands squeezing your waist like your body is his only anchor to life itself.

Semi Eita wants to be a rockstar, but right now he’s just a boy kissing a girl he’s bound to fall deeply, inexplicably in love with.

When he finally breaks away, you’re breathless, staring up at him like you’ve just seen an angel. Your hands are still curled in the front of his shirt, you’re still standing on tiptoe, lips just inches from his.

“Semi…” You swallow hard. “Akamine’s a good guy… I can’t.”

Semi tenses his jaw, taking a finger to lift your chin. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hungry.”

He’s got you there.

You’re standing on a balance beam splitting two vastly different worlds. On one side there’s the known: Akamine and his bright, blue-eyed optimism, his willingness to shoulder burdens he shouldn’t have to. There’s his sweet touch and soft kisses, his firm words of reassurance and his sunny laughter shedding light on your hidden depths.

The known is comforting. It’s familiar.

But on the other side… there’s the unknown. There’s Semi Eita in all his scalded glory, his sharp tongue and headstrong determination. There’s his burning touch, his fingers leaving scorch marks on your cheek and his lips depositing glowing embers in your mouth, ready to ignite at a single inflammatory word. There’s his moonstone enigma, the shadow underlying his every sentence like smudged eyeliner.

The unknown is frightening, almost overwhelmingly so… but there’s something in you, something willful and terribly thirsty, that draws you to this unknown and the possibility of knowing it.

“Because I am.”

And you grab his face and pull it down to yours, impatient, frustrated by months of dancing around that painfully tangible attraction, that magnetism — finally, you allow yourself to fall, hurtling through a chasm of fallen stars and ancient suns, hanging on to nothing but Semi and his carefully guarded secrets.

You kiss him hard, pouring your soul into his mouth, all your youthful doubt and hope. You knot your fingers in his hair, and he pulls you into his chest, pressing your body so close it’s as if he wants to make it a part of himself.

And when you part for the second time, chest heaving, you know you’ve fallen completely, entirely, without a doubt.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #semi eita #semi eita x reader #semi eita fluff #semi eita angst #semi eita fic #semi eita imagines #semi eita headcanons

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pikemoreno · 4 years

Text

cyare

pairing: din djarin x reader

request: @hdlynn: "Please stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone." with Din?

word count: 1.1k

warnings: canon typical violence and injury, not well-edited?

a/n: this... was supposed to be a little drabble... oh well.

It had been an incredibly, unusually trying day. Din had left you alone with the Razor Crest and the kid for an afternoon. It wasn’t an unusual arrangement and not one that generally created any sort of issue. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time Din would snag his bounty and you would easily handle your duties. Sometimes someone would come along trying to loot the ship or snag the kid, but you were more than capable of handling them and it’d be settled long before Din made it back, finding a restrained, frustrated brute sitting in the dirt outside where you’d left him.

This was the point-one percent. There were just too many of them: two burly men-- one of which you recognized from a previous engagement in hand-to-hand combat-- and a very lithe, knife-wielding woman. They sauntered right onto the ship and you quickly locked the kid away once their intentions became clear, standing your ground, demanding to know why they were here.

Then their interrogation started.

“Where’s the creature?”

Slash.

You side-step it, sending a knee into the assassin’s stomach.

“Tin man not here to protect you?”

A larger fist, courtesy of the bigger man, barely misses your face. You don’t get a good hit in back and the assassin woman gets a cut in on the back of your arm. You hiss in pain, but take her to the ground.

It was an endless cycle of you taking down one momentarily only to be met with another, with you calling out for Din helplessly in between uppercuts and kicks and slashes. You knew the likelihood of him hearing you anytime soon was low, but to leave the Crest to get him almost certainly resulted in the loss of all your belongings, the peril of the kid, or both. All you could do was scream, hold them off, and pray to the Maker that Din would be back before you were beaten.

Din heard you crying out as soon as he got within a quarter of a mile of the Crest. It echoed through the trees and across the grassy valley in a way that made his stomach churn in terror. Immediately assuming the worst, he ran at a full sprint back to the clearing, suddenly thankful that he hadn’t located the bounty that would’ve hindered his way back to you.

“Cyare!” he yelled back as he ran. The panicked call crackled through the modulator so loudly it hurt his own ears. Then he saw it. Four people on his ship. One was surrounded, being cut in the back of the thigh. That one sobbed out once again in a way that ripped right through his heart.

“Din!”

You.

He jumped into action, coming up behind the brutes in a surprise attack and knocking their heads together with a sickening whack. They crumpled and you found your fight at the sight, raising up from where you’d fallen on the floor to knock out the assassin. Your breaths came out labored from exertion and pain and you tried to let yourself fall back to the ground only to be caught and held by beskar arms and gloved hands. He brought you to sit on your makeshift cot as gently as the metal could manage and wordlessly began to access your wounds. There were some minor abrasions that looked painful but not serious and all of the cuts seemed to be surface-level minus the one you received on the back of your calf. That one was significantly deeper and was still bleeding pretty heavily. He observed it, holding your leg gently in gloved hands, moving it slightly to view it from different angles. He broke the silence.

“Would you like me to get the kid for this?” The crackling of the modulator was the only thing harsh about his words. You shook your head.

“No, let’s let him be. I can--” You weren’t allowed to finish that statement before Din grabbed a nearby medkit and started tending to the wound himself, cleaning it and preparing to wrap it without another word. When he found the gloves to be cumbersome he ripped them off, not thinking twice about it. He was more concerned with the task at hand and more comfortable with you after the months you’ve spent with him than he’s ever been around anyone else. It seemed a natural progression, a reasonable thing for you to see his hands just long enough to fix your leg.

But the action made you freeze in your tracks. It was more of him than you’d ever seen. You watched his hands carefully, admiring the callouses where his hands had adapted to his work and the way they still managed to wrap the bandages so gently and carefully. You didn’t quite notice when he had finished his work, not blinking back to full consciousness until he cleared his throat. He flexed and released his gloveless hands a few times, seeming to debate if the gloves should come back on.

“Thank you,” you croaked, barely above a whisper. He nodded simply.

“You should sleep. We’ll be flying for a while.” You moved to lay down, being careful of your various injuries, but you spoke again as he stood to take the Crest to the air.

"Wait... Din?” He turned back to you and it all at once made you second guess your request, but you proceeded anyway, voice small. “Please stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone."

It was his turn to freeze. It was an unprecedented request, but one he understand after the day you’d had.

“Let me just--” he gestured helplessly to the cockpit, words not coming easily in this decidedly intimate exchange.

By the time he returned from the cockpit, the Crest now drifting through empty space for the night, you were already fast asleep. He knew he didn’t truly need him now, but he still couldn’t bring himself to let you wake up alone.

And maybe a small part of him had been thrilled at the prospect of being invited to stay with you while you slept.

So he shakily laid down next to you, leaving you facing each other. The cot was far too small to maintain any sort of distance and an accidental brush of his arm on yours woke you up. He apologized to your still-half-asleep self and you mumbled back a “‘s ok.” Then a beat of silence before you spoke again. “Thank you for everything today.”

“Always, cyare,” he whispered, “Sleep well.”

“What’s that word mean? I haven’t heard that one,” you hummed back, words slurring with sleep.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” You nodded slightly, satisfied enough with that answer and too tired to coax it out of him. Your eyes remained closed, but your hand found his still-uncovered one, giving the lightest of squeezes as you drifted off once again. He sucked in a sharp breath at the new form of contact, but squeezed back after a hesitant moment, letting himself follow you to peaceful rest.

forever taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives @mistermiraclee

#din djarin x reader #din x reader #bri writes

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I request scenario with dabi and reader have first fight and he gets mad and slap her then realise what happened and try to apologise I just want some angst if it's ok with you Author-chan 👉👈 also sorry for my bad english and hope you are doing great ❤

Im all for the angsty and sees the man goes "shit I fucked up"

Stressful days weren't exactly rarity on his life. He had manage to deal with those over the years. But today seemed just the type of when life doesn't gove you lemons, but instead they fucking squezze the lemons on your eyes.

He was out of patience and he just locked himself on his office as a clear sign for NO ONE to enter and to not disturb him.

Well, unfortunately you hadn't gotten the message. Your intentions were pure and come crom your heart, but he really wasn't willing to listen to anyone, instead succumb on his anger until himself calms down.

But as the stubborn you were, you stayed. Willing to facebthe danger of his wrath... but never would you two expect something like that to happen.

He REALLY didn't mean it. He swear to God and for his whole life that when he extended his hand he didn't saq himself beating you... his anger immediately went down and was replaced with horror as he stared with wide eyes at yourself... wide eyes at the ground and holding your cheek.

God, what have he done?

He didn't carw how he stittered your name or how weak he sounded and looked when he tried to extend his hand, still on the air, at you... yet you took a step back, one hand in front of you to prevent him to come any closer.

"N-no. Is okay.. just-just stay back..." you whimpered, hand shaking on the air as you still holded your hand on your cheek, his heart clenching when he saw the drops of tears start to run down from your eyes to the wooden floor.

"Please (Y/n) at least let-"

"N-Not today Chisaki." You gagged, hand lowering down showing the red mark on your face and making him feel sick to the stomach as his hives appeared. "I need to-to... to take some air." You stormed your way out of his office and he only manage to step out of his office to see the looks of some subbordinates looking still at the way you ran out.

It didn't helped one bit when Kurono send him a look that was the perfect mix of dissapointment and worry before running after you, some precepts decided not to spare a glance while the others who had the courage, send him dirty looks before returning to their activities.

He scoffed before slamming his office's door before sitting on the ground without a care and gripping on his hair tightly as the images replayed on his mind to torment him even further.

"What the fuck did I just do?" He gritted between teeth as he started to feel his mask getting wet....

"Give her time. She just went out for a walk." Chrono said from his seat as Kai continued to stare blankly at the hand he used to hurt you.

"... she went out alone." It was suppose to be a question, but he knew better.

"She needed some space." Kurono mumblex before crossing his arms and frowning at his friend "What happened inside here anyway?"

"And why the fuck do you need to know?" He growled as he conteolled himself to not just burst i to a fit of self hate.

"Just trying to help." The white haired man sighed as he uncrossed his arms and got up from his seat "So?"

"I fucking slapped her Hari!" He shouted, slamming his fists on his desk and accidentally overhauled his gloves "I fucked up! I hurt her! SATISFiED?!" He send one of his most threatening glares at Kurono who even flinched a bit. He scoffed burring his face on his hands.

"Get out... please." Hari furrowed his eyebrows at that but sighed and let his friend be as he closed the door.

Not even two minutes later a knock echoed on his office. He growled to himself before preparing to curse the person out before he froze at seing Pops entering.

"You keep acting like that and you will may never get that woman's heart back my boy. Is your choice."

The elder's words echoed on his head as he controlled his body to not just sob at the thought. Pops noticed yet the state of mind Chisaki was. Sighing, the old man took a seat besides his successor.

"What leaded you to that?"

"I don't know!" He wanted to shout but instead it came out as a whisper "It wasn't ever my intention to hit her-! I just was in a bad mood and then she wanted to help me but I... I.." he burried his face on his hands again with a sigh, looking at the ground with a sorrow expression.

"Chisaki, what you did was bad for sure... But knowing how much you love that girl and how she loves you back, hopefully she will understand. But the wound won't cure itself instantly, it takes time to heal something like that, but if you really cherish and love (Y/n), you will prove to her and won't see a problem on giving her space.."

"... I want to die." The browhaired man admitted as the elder furrowed hsi eyebrows even more "I want to punch myself into bleeding to show her that I-"

"That won't do." He interrupted with a hand on his hair messing up his cut "Kid, stop being so radical and just be patient." The eldrr smiled before getting up and stopping by the door "Give her time and apologize, prove to her that won't happen again, and treat her like yourself call her Kai, an angel." He smirked at the surprised look Chisaki gave him before getting out.

Walking in circles in his room, he kept scratching at the skin of his forearm... the event happened early in the morning and it was already 10 pm.... he hadn't heard of you of all day except for Kurono and Pops assuring him you were safe... but het the feeling of drag and bitter on him never eased up...

He eventually gave up on walking and just opted to sit down, still scracthing at his arm until he hissed, noticing that from all that scrarch on his hives it started to bleed. He looked at it bluntly before using his quiro to put the skin back together... then started to scratch again...

He knew that wasn't to pay back what he had done to you... but het his mind wouldn't just leave him at peace. Why would if on the first place afterwhat he had done?

The creak of the door made him stop breathing for a second... soft footsteps echoing on the room as you without a word walked towards the batgroom and closed the door.

He couldn't take this anymore... he knows he should give you time but hell, this was just torture.

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom after you showered you yelped a bit at seing Kai waiting right in front of you.

Quietly he lifted his hand and furrowed his eyebrows in dusgusta at himself when you flinched a bit and hesitantly took a step back.

"I won't... please let me just.." je wordless grabbed your hand as it was about to break at any moment before his knees gave up and kneeled on the ground.

"What the-? K-Kai-?"

"Forgive me." He grabbed your hand on his both ones as he lowered his head for you to not see how pathetic he looked "For everything I did, for crying out loud for me being me just forgive my stupid ass self (y/n)! Im so sorry!"

Your eyes widened in shock at the man beneath you, clenching on your hand as his life depended on it.

"I will do anything for you to forgive me angel I swear to god if I ever dare ro lift a hand to you again I will let everyprecept of thsi room to beat me up!"

"Hey." You cooed hesitantly yet worried no less... Chisaki was no way a man of begging, but letting someone else touch him? That was too out of character fo him

"Please... I will do anything to earn your trust back..." you kneeled on the ground to look at his eyes to just be shocked as well to see his golden eyes puffy with tears "Forgive me.." he whimpered as he lowered his mask to show you his whole face.

You frowned at that before pecking his lips, feeljng his hand come to the back of your neck and the other surround around your waist to pull you closer to him.

After the kiss broke, you shaked your head with a smile as you two regained your breath. This time you lifted one hand of your and cupped his cheek.

"Like I said earlier, is okay... I shouldn't had poked you when you wanted to be alone Kai."

"That gives me no right to ever hurt you... I didn't know what the hell was I doing on the first place (Y/n)." He lowered his head to rest forehead with yours.

"Is okay Kai." You nuzzled his nose with yours, giggling at how je scrunched his face a bit "I forgive you."

He let out a sad chuckle before picking you up in bridal style, enjoying how you yelped in glee and circled your arms on his neck as he sitted with you on the mastress.

You let go of his neck but hsi arms curcled your waist and pushed you against him even more, preventing you to go as he burried his face on the crook of your neck.

You sighed, running one hand of yours through his hair.

".. but really, do that again and I will do worst than just leave you." You said on a serious tone as he could only sigh and nod on your skin.

"It will never happen again..." he mumbled in your skin as he nuzzled even further "But I do understand if you need space from now on..." he said in sadness, enjoying your embrace and touches like they were the last he would receive.

"... maybe some days off?" You offered and he shvirred at the thought of not having you for more than a day.

"... where?"

"I dunno." You mumbled while tracing your fingers on his hair before smirking "Where do you want to go?"

The way he looked at you, eyes wide with both eyebrows up made you giggled.

"Didn't you want some alone time?" He asked as if you were crazy.

"Yeah I meant that. But a breaj from your work would be great, am I wrong?" You tilted your head as he let out a chuckle before hugging you close.

"You're ridiculous.... that means we are alright?" He asked with hopes up.

"We're gonna be."

#bnha villains #bnha #bnha characters #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul x reader #overhaul #fanfic overhaul #my writing #zuffer writings

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH96

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 96: Castle Cry (XXIII)

{cw: crossdressing joke}

As the phantom in the mirror revealed the fatal temptation, Mrs. Sarah looked at the mirror with empty eyes. She was possessed and cut off her nails according to her instructions. The cut nails fell to the ground. Mrs. Sarah jerked and suddenly woke up.

With a scream, she threw the mirror to the ground and shouted, "The Devil! You’re the Devil!"

There is a giggle from the mirror: "When you look in the mirror, all you see is the desire in your own heart. Don't resist it. There is already a jealous witch in your heart, and that is the real you."

Mrs. Sarah stamped on the fragments of the mirror, and the voice stopped abruptly. She fell back trembling and sat down on the bed.

"Madam, I heard your voice. What happened?" The bedroom door was knocked on and Nina's voice came.

"I have nothing to do and accidentally broke the mirror," Mrs Sarah tried to speak calmly, adjusting her skirt.

Nina opened the door, bowed, and came in to clean up the debris on the ground. Sarah watched her work and said to herself, "Johann will be back soon."

"Yes, madam," Nina responded to Sarah’s words, cleaning the broken mirror on the ground.

"He will be very happy." Sarah suddenly laughed and stroked her flat belly. "Although he’s never said it, he must like children as much as I do."

Nina let out a soft cry, and her cut finger started bleeding. She quickly put her finger in her mouth, for fear that the blood might touch the beautiful carpet. Sarah sighed: "You’re too careless. Forget it. Stop first and let others clean it up later."

"It doesn't matter, madam. I'll fix it." Nina said anxiously, her head lowered.

Sarah sat on the bed and murmured, "Will he love me more when he has a baby?"

Nina shivered and trilled: "Your husband loves you deeply."

Sarah smiled, looked ahead with empty eyes, and murmured: "Yes, he loves me, just like I love him..."

Nina, who was kneeling on the ground to clean, quietly raised her face and looked at the crazy lady quietly and painfully. She forgot that her finger was still bleeding, and a bead of blood fell from her fingertip on the colorful carpet and penetrated into the complicated patterns…

The phantom faded, and Mrs. Sarah's last words lingered in the room, repeating the lie over and over again into a sad belief. It seemed that she’d discovered John's infidelity long ago, but she didn't want to admit it. She would rather hypnotize herself over and over again until she believed it.

"It seems that this phantom is an explanation to how the crazy lady got the sacrifice method, but at this time she has not yet miscarried, and her mental state seemed to be fairly stable... Nina was a little nervous. She was really afraid that the crazy lady would go crazy," Qi Leren said, not sure how many emotions - pity, guilt, and even passing jealousy - were contained in Nina's last complicated expression…

Up to now, Qi Leren hadn't drawn a conclusion: What kind of role did Nina play?

"Hey, now that the six sacrifices have been collected, can we go to the boss fight?" Dr. Lu asked after putting away the last Devil's sacrifice.

Su He opened his pocket watch and glanced at it. "Get ready to go back to the outer world. It's almost time."

With the six bells ringing, the three people once again returned to the outer world - based off the time, this should be the last hour. After all, the task required them to leave the castle before dawn, and it was now six o'clock. Although the sun would rise late in this season, it would be dawn at seven o'clock.

"Everything has been found, and all that’s left is the hound and the crazy lady. I can think of three ways to deal with the hound for the time being, so you leave it to me." Su He closed the pocket watch, nodding to the two.

"God, I just want to have a bug in every copy. Su He and you are the real bugs!" Dr. Lu was delighted by this feeling of having everything taken care of by others.

Su He smiled implicitly. "The first method is dangerous. It comes from what Nan Lu did before. Why did she and Luo Xueyi wear the crazy lady's clothes? I’m swayed to think that this is a symbolic meaning, which means that they have assimilated with the crazy lady. So when Nan Lu called for the hound, he followed her obediently because he thought she was his master. How did it distinguish her? By recognizing her? That's obviously wrong. Nan Lu and Mrs. Sarah have very different appearances and voices; By Mrs Sarah's clothes? It's possible. If it relies on theDevil’s power..." Su He caught Qi Leren’s eye and caused his heart and soul to jump, thinking that Su He would reveal the seed in him. "Then the sacrifices we got can be used."

Dr. Lu smiled with a sloped voice: "You mean to let Qi Leren wear the crazy lady's clothes and take the Devil's sacrifice, to pretend to be Mrs. Sarah and lead the dog away?"

Qi Leren's heart was dead: "...I won't do it, I would rather die!"

"This task isn’t difficult. Dr. Lu should be competent," Su He smiled.

Qi Leren was overjoyed: "You’re the same size as Mrs. Sarah's clothes, perfect!"

"...Oh NO!" Dr. Lu screamed in horror, "I refuse!"

"It seems that there’s no way to reach an agreement. Let's talk about the second method: I also said before that the dog collar in the piano room on the second floor could be used. After picking up the collar, the hound should be attracted. There should be no problem in ambushing it. To be safe, this would require quick decision making and a miniature bomb that can be fed to it," Su He said.

Qi Leren was a little distressed. This was all in exchange for the number of survival days. Couldn’t they just not do it and only go against the crazy lady? "Is there another way?"

"Use the armor." Su He said only three words, but lit up the idea in Qi Leren.

"Yes, before when the armor and hound fought, it was completely one-sided. Maybe there’s some magical power. And the armor’s material is hard, so you don't have to worry about being bitten by the dog. This is a good idea!" Qi Leren got a little excited.

Dr. Lu whistled at the side: "You can cheat the system."

Qi Leren sneered: "Then you can do it."

Dr. Lu was a coward.

The three men went back to the stairs where the armor had been scattered. With the help of Dr. Lu and Su He, Qi Leren put this heavy metal armor on his body: "It's a bit heavy, but I can still move around. It’s more flexible than expected."

"Of course, this is originally modeled after the armor used by knights in the Middle Ages in Europe. It would be strange if you couldn't wear it," Dr. Lu said haughtily.

Su He paid more attention to it: "Do you feel any special power in this armor?"

"Well, there’s no such thing. It seems that it’s just plain armor," Qi Leren said regretfully.

Wearing the armor, he went up the stairs, and Qi Leren returned to the third floor and followed the trail of blood spread to the end of the corridor. To be on the safe side, Dr. Lu and Su He waited for him at the stairs on the third floor. Although Qi Leren was a little nervous to face the danger alone, after being tempered so many times, he was not frightened for such a battle. At most, he was a little nervous.

Where the hell was the hound?

The clang of metal armor moving sounded in his ear, every step accompanied by the sound of metal clanking, and the helmet's visual field was limited, so Qi Leren was constantly worried that he had missed some subtle movement.

Finally, when he was about to walk to the open room at the end of the corridor, the charred hound appeared from the shadows like a ghost. The castle in the world was dark and old, and the lightning outside the window lit the night sky of heavy rain again and again, which also lit up the explosive battlefield.

The hound leaned down and growled menacingly in the depths of its throat. Qi Leren wore the metal armor and held the armor’s sword in his hand, ready to stab-

Move!

The roar of the hound thundered down, and it sprang up on its hind legs and pounced towards the armor! Its figure lit by the lightning suddenly became nothing but an afterimage!

So fast! He couldn't see at all!

Qi Leren instinctively wielded the sword, slashing it down. The hound that had landed jumped up again. A slave to momentum, Qi Leren was knocked down to the ground with the heavy armor. He hastily shored up his body but forgot to take his sword, and directly swung at the hound that jumped towards him with an iron fist! His fist seemed to be endowed with incredible power. At the moment the punch met, Qi Leren felt that even the opposite wall could easily be penetrated!

The fist collided with the hound, and the hound whined as it crashed into the opposite wall and fell to the ground.

Good opportunity! The fallen Qi Leren wanted to get up and make up for the blow, but the heavy armor limited his movement. Struggling, he rose to his feet, picked up the long sword on the ground, and stabbed it through the hound's body.

The burnt body of the hound exploded, and the flames swept over its body instantly, burning through it and leaving no ashes.

This time it had gone well. Qi Leren got up from the ground slowly, took off his helmet, and let out a sigh of relief.

Although the hound’s speed was much faster than during the last encounter with it, thanks to this armor, he was not bitten. The battle ended quickly enough, and the degree of fright was greatly reduced, which made Qi Leren very satisfied.

Su He came over with Dr. Lu, and Dr. Lu was surprised: "How fast!"

"That's a given," Qi Leren said, pretending to be calm and trying to show his superior demeanor.

"Qi Leren is very powerful," Su He praised, his eyes curving with a gentle smile.

Being praised so sincerely, or being praised by a person who was far superior to him, Qi Leren was very flustered. What was even more embarrassing was that Dr. Lu's eyes were wrong…

"Well, the crazy lady didn't show up after the hound was killed. It seems that the worst situation you said won’t happen," Qi Leren quickly changed the subject.

Before the fight, Su He had put forth various possibilities. The most troublesome one was that hatred was shared between the hound and the crazy lady. Once the hound was attacked, the crazy lady would appear, and it would be a lot of trouble to deal with it. However, according to the difficulty of the copy, it was unlikely.

Fortunately, this kind of situation didn’t happen. Otherwise, Qi Leren who was wearing heavy armor would be bound to have a hard time dealing with the crazy lady. Although Su He promised that he would step in if this happened, Qi Leren still hoped to solve the task by himself. This relatively safe exercise opportunity was really too precious.

Take off your armor, bring your weapons, take Luo Xueyi's ashes, and prepare the Devil's sacrifice. Qi Leren glanced at the small staircase at the end of the corridor, which led to the rooftop garden on the top floor.

There, a grand battle was about to start.

-----

The author has something to say:

PS: However, the witty Dr. Lu has seen through everything: my (copy) boyfriend is always entangled with men, he really is a gay ╮ (╯ ▽ ╰) ╭ ↑ Crazy lady on standby: What a mess your circle is

I wish you all a happy Valentine's Day. I will reply to the messages first, and if there are any omissions, I will reply tomorrow :-D

-----

Editor’s Notes: The cw at the top of this chapter brings a good opportunity for me to mention something not so nice that I’ve been worrying about:

While it’s not very present in this installment of the trilogy, once we get into Nightmare Game II there does start to be somewhat prominent issues of transmisogyny in this series. I’m using my own discretion to edit out any slurs the mtl gives me (especially since I don’t know the specific connotations of the words used in the Chinese), but I don’t think it’s my place as a someone only invovled in translation to completely take out or greatly alter a portion of the original text.

As we are now moving towards the climax of Nightmare Game I, I feel that it’s best for me to mention this early so that people who do not want to continue reading something with transmisognistic content have the opportunity to drop it if they wish before they get too emotionally invested in the series. I do apologize for not mentioning this earler. Once we reach those scenes, I will be sure to include warnings whenever relevant.

If you have any further questions or worries about this (or anything else), I encourage you to message me. I would like for people to be able to enjoy this series to the greatest degree possible, even despite the issues present in it.

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[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

He Accidentally Hurt You Pt. 1

Masterlist

Takes place while in the group, written as a platonic relationship.

this one got away from me entirely, so I had to split it up

Warrior

“I’m telling you, we need to head west!”

“And head straight into enemy territory? I don’t think so!”

“Wild’s right, Warrior. We can’t just sit around here and wait for them to come to us or the people of the town. We’re the only ones who can do something about it.”

“Need I remind the both of you that we’re all tired as hell as well? We have no potions or healing items, our weapons haven’t been tended to in over a week because of the constant fighting and everyone has an injury in one way or another. We can’t afford to keep going at this rate. We’re lucky enough to have enough food as it is.”

You glanced at the W Trio. Wild, Wind and Warrior.

They’ve been going over the map and strategies for the past hour and it’s getting tiring. That normally would have fallen to Time and Twilight to talk to Warrior about it but they went ahead as the currently strongest of all to secure the perimeter.

It hasn’t been going great.

You sighed and stood up, making your way over to where they were.

Warrior was getting worked up and his gestures became more agitated and pronounced.

They needed to stop.

“Ok, guys, take five and a breather.” You started before your head snapped backwards.

The arguing stopped instantly.

“Oh for Din’s sake! Are you ok?.” Hands covered your own as you felt your face trying to pry them off to get a read on the damage done. “Oh course this has to happen.”

You took a step back and plugged your nose for good measure.

Wild and Wind both look tense and looked between the two of you, expecting something to blow up in their faces.

“Well that was unnecessary.” You spoke after a tense beat.

Warrior bit his lip, warring within himself to both step forward to comfort you and too afraid of pushing your boundaries more than he already has. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Does it hurt?”

“I’ll live if that’s what you’re asking me.” You raised an eyebrow. “I was going to say that you should all take a break and leave it for a while. Maybe take a nap and come back to it once Twilight and the Old Man can have a say. Because yeah, we’re all tired as hell. I don’t think you liked the idea though.”

Warrior had the decency to look ashamed. “That was unintentional.”

“Regardless, I think I’m bleeding.” You smirk. “You’ve got quite the arm Captain. Last time I checked, a backhanded slap was usually reserved for-”

“Please don’t make this any worse.”

You laughed.

Wind

“Wind! Get down from there!” You called up the tree.

Mr. Sticky Fingers had taken something important from you, not that he knew what it was and you didn’t plan on telling him it’s importance since it was mostly sentimental value but the kid turned it into a game instead.

“I’m not going to climb after you Pirate!”

“I guess it’s mine then!” He taunted back.

You glared at his smirking face and snapped your head to the group. “Excuse me Wild Child, care to lend a hand? You’re the best tree climber among us and I’d really like to get my item back.”

Wild looked up and spotted Wind in the tree. He shrugged and stood up, making his way over. “I can make that climb. Sure.”

“Uh oh.” Wind huddled into himself on the nearest branch before making a mad dash through the tree.

Wild followed closely and you stepped under the tree to get a better view of the chase. The multitude of branches and leave and twigs made it hard to see through and you didn’t see make the executive decision to jump down.

And it seemed as if he didn’t see you either.

You both landed on the ground, a sickening crack following shortly. Your cry of surprise quickly turning into one of pain.

Wind jumped off of you as if you burned him but stayed close, handing your item back as if that would fix the problem.

The boys crowded you instantly. Hyrule led the charged followed by Twilight and Time. Warrior pulled Wind aside to give them room, Wild jumped down from the tree and Legend chose to stand closer to Hyrule to get a look over his shoulder. Four and Sky held back, concerned faces mirroring each other.

“I think you broke my arm.” You gritted through your teeth.

“I didn’t.... I didn’t mean-” Wind spoke up but bit his lip, cutting himself off. He knew there was no saving him.

“What on earth was so important that it had to come to this?” Time glared at the both of you. You would have felt a little more embarrassed because it was easily avoidable but at the same time, it was your dominant arm and now you struggled to sit up.

“Wind took an item of mine and refused to give it back. To keep me from getting it back, he climbed up a tree and I asked wild to help me out. The kid jumped on me and this happened. End of story.” Hyrule looked up at you questionably before snapping the bones back into place. A scream tore through your throat before you could stop it. “‘RULE! A little warning next time?!”

He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s better if you aren’t expecting it.”

“What’s so special about that item anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sky came a little closer to rub comforting circles on your back. Hyrule took that as his cue to begin healing the injury properly. “Is it magic?”

Pain clouded your judgment slightly. “No, not exactly.”

“What is it then? It doesn’t look like anything special.” Legend gripped the tip of it and you pulled it closer to your chest, away from the others. “It’s defiantly not magic.”

“Not in the traditional sense.” You agreed. The pain was slowly fading away now, but with the quickening of the healing process, it looked worse than it did before. You turned your eyes away from the black and blue mess.

“It’s... the last gift my mother ever gave to me.” You admitted. “It’s a special kind of magic that only means something to me.”

“The sentimental kind.” Four smiled sadly.

You nodded in agreement. “But it’s not like it does anything. It’s only a token really. However... I’d rather die then let anything happen to it.”

The group stood around you silently, taking in the information.

“I’m sorry.” Wind stood before you. “I didn’t-”

You held your good hand up. “It’s not broken, I knew you would never try that and I got it back. I’m not even mad, just don’t do it again.”

He looked worse after your words, as if it was the worse news you could have told him. You knew the feeling. You felt like maybe it would help him feel better to get yelled at or something equivalent of a punishment but it wasn’t in your nature.

Once that mess was cleared up, he stayed to close to you but was unusually quiet.

You made it a point to make sure that he knew you were still on good terms by the end of the day.

Wild

“I wonder if theses are ok to eat.” You mutter to yourself. Poking at a berry bush that was near your camp, you heard (and felt) your stomach rumble. “Wild would probably know. Hyrule might know as well but....”

THWIP

Something was imbedded in your leg.

“OH MERCY ME!” You fell over, narrowly avoiding the berry thorn bush and looked down. “FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY- WHAT IN THE WORLD-!”

An arrow.

An arrow was just... sticking out of your leg.

Rustling came from the bushes beyond and out popped a twig and leaf covered head of hair. A scarred face came next that expressed confusion to immediate concern and shock. Wild jumped over the bush and made a mad dash to your side.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I thought you were an animal.” He crouched down by your side and hovered his hands around the offending object.

“Why on earth did you think I was an animal?” You nearly cursed him then and there.

It hurt. It hurt and hurt and he wasn’t doing anything!

“I heard a growl.” He admitted, a bright blush on his face.

“No, that was me and my stomach. I’m hungry man! I was just checking if those berries were edible.” You growled and tried to move over but your leg wouldn’t cooperate without sending bouts of burning static up to your hip.

“That was a crap shot anyway. It wouldn’t have taken the animal down regardless.” Wild muttered to himself.

“Excuse you but I’m the one who was shot. Take it out!”

“Ok, ok, ok, hold on.” He placed a bracing hand on your leg and grip the arrow in the other. “Deep breath. Ready? One. Two.”

“OUCH! YOU SICK, TWISTED, SON OF A-”

“Here.” Wild handed you a potion. You recognized it as a healing item of his, even if the bottle was wrong and uncorked it, gulping it down with vigor.

“You owe me Champion.” You crossed your arms when you finished, handing the bottle back to him.

“I’ll cook you something. Anything you want.” He nervously scratched the back of his head. “Those berries aren’t edible anyway.”

You blinked at him and the berries, not pouting at all. Your glare hardened at the plant. “I blame you.”

“The plant?”

“I just wanted to eat something!”

Legend

You couldn’t believe it.

There he was, sleeping in your bedroll.

You were tired as it was and didn’t have the energy to put up with it. Instead of anger though...It was mostly confusion.

Why was Legend asleep in your bed roll?

Was he really that tired that he just didn’t care? Probably. The nightmares were bad the night before and he was working nonstop the whole day.

You couldn’t fully blame him. He probably didn’t even notice.

Still.

You were exhausted as well and you refused to take his spot.

You walked over and shook his shoulder.

BAM

You stumbled backwards and eventually fell over, your hands covering your face.

Legend sat up blearily and blinked for a solid minute before realizing his fist was still raised.

“Legend!” You yelled at him. “What the heck man? You can’t punch to save your life!”

“What?”

“That’s my bedroll, dumb bell. I would like to sleep please.” You crossed your arms and stared him down. “Also, I’m telling Twilight you can’t punch for crap.”

Legend pushed himself up and looked beneath him. “Oh. Sorry. Wait. What about my punching?”

”You suck at it.”

He glared at you for a moment before taking a swing in your direction.

You dodged it easily and grinned. “Your form definitely needs work.”

“Shut up!”

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #good golly Wind's got away from me #I have to split it #part 2 will be out soon.

281 notes · View notes

night-rook · 4 years

Text

Safe in My Arms | Draco Malfoy x Reader |

Word Count: 3,995

Reader Type: Female, Half-Blood, Slytherin

Story Type: Harry Potter , 6th year

Beware: Bullying

Key terms:

(Y/N) = Your name (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name (H/C) = Hair Color (S/C) = Skin color (E/C) = Eye Color

━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━ Reading her potions book, (Y/N) sat next to Hermione, however she wasn’t paying attention to the conversation the trio was saying. As they discussed what Harry overheard on the train, the slytherin placed a bookmark on where she left off. “Well, I’m sure (Y/N) knows more. He probably bragged about it with all of Slytherin!” Ron said as the trio looked at the female in question. The (S/C) student looked at the trio with a raised brow. She was confused as to what she had to do with the Slytherin Prince. Turning towards Hermione, she wordlessly asked what was happening because she had just tuned back to reality after reading about her book. The smart gryffindor shook her head before the gang got up to head back out of the dining hall. Unknownst to her, (Y\N) never noticed the pair of cloudy gray eyes directed towards her from across the dining hall. The slytherin waved the Trio off for the night before leaving for the dungeons. She hummed quietly while entering the house common room, reciting the ingredients of Calming Draught. Not bothering to stay in the Common Room, she headed straight to her dorm but was stopped by her tormentor. (Y/N) mentally cursing for not being quick enough and looked up at Pansy. “To what do I owe the pleasure this wonderful night, Parkinson? Do you wish I would drown in a pool of my tainted blood?” The (S/C) student sarcastically prompted while tilting her head to the side, her (E/C) burning with annoyance. The brunette smirked at the female and took a step forward to close the distance between them, “Oh that would be lovely to see, (Y/L/N). Seeing as you associate with those disgusting Gryffindors. Especially with that mudblood. So, being witness to your drowning would make my day.”

Raising a brow at the human pug, (Y/N) clenched her fists for the pug’s usage of that cursed slang word before forcing her head forward to crash against Pansy’s head. Her head bump made the pug curse out in pain and step back to stop the nose bleed. Glaring her, the (Y/H) female walked off and went to her dorm.

She tossed her bag onto her bed before leaning against the cold wooden bedpost. Her head pounding from resorting to crash that thick headed Parkinson, maybe she shouldn’t have done that.

“But the satisfaction of it was rewarding after six long years,” she smiled before looking over to the photo frame on her bed stand. “You would have approved, right, Dad?”

(Y/N) picked up the frame and sat down on the bed. Her eyes taking in the blissful image of her family. The memory of that photo meant the world to her before arriving at Hogwarts. She traced her finger over the smiling blond who stood next to her younger self as snow fell around them. Closing her eyes, she fell back and laid on the soft mattress. Remembering the day the photo was taken. ━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━

“C’mon! Mama made us hot choco!” a smiling (H/C) tugged the arm of the blond boy. They had spent the day playing in the snow, nearly shivering after making snow angels. The boy chuckled at his enthusiastic friend before leading them inside the warm manor. The pair rushed to the kitchen to see a woman pouring the streaming liquid into a few mugs. Hearing their footsteps, the woman smiled at them and handed them the mugs to warm their shivering little bodies. She took two more mugs with her and led the children to the living area, leaving a tray of hot chocolate to the house elves as they took a break from their duties. Handing her husband a mug, the woman sat down on her own seat while the children sat on the rug in front of the fire. Little (Y/N) chugged down the sweet drink as the boy calmly drank his. The family enjoyed the calming atmosphere with the cracking of the fire as background noise. “Do you think we will go to the same house, (Y/N)? It will be fun to have you with me in Slytherin.” the boy said while taking a sip of his hot chocolate. The young girl tilted her head as she thought about them being in Hogwarts together. She liked to be with him and to attend classes with him. Looking over to her parents, she noticed their eyes on her as if waiting for her to answer. She turned back to the boy and rested her head on his shoulder. “We’ll always be together, Dracy.” She whispered only to him, hiding her blush from the boy. ━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━ That was six years ago and a year before Hogwarts. Truth be told, they did get sorted into Slytherin together but they had drifted apart a few weeks after the sorting. (Y/N) had friended the Golden Trio, much to Draco’s disapproval. The pair got into a deadly screaming match before the boy called her a “blood traitor” due to her blood status. His words silenced her that night before she left and went to Hermione, allowing her to spend the night at Gryffindor. The years after that night had cut a wedge between the former best friends. They never uttered a word towards each other. (Y/N) rarely stayed in Slytherin Dungeon due to the blond always hanging around there with his friends. That was the beginning of her name “Slytherin Traitor” as she was always tormented by Pansy’s gang about her kindness with other students or simply hanging with the Trio. (Y/N) sighed and changed into her pajamas for the night. Falling sleeping rather quickly and dreaming of the blond boy who she once called her friend. ━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━ Winter had come quickly to Hogwarts. Students went to Hogsmeade to do some shopping and escape the school to enjoy the snowy day. (Y/N) and the trio were at the Three Broomsticks, having just ordered three butterbeers to warm them up. Ron frowned as he watched his sister on a date with a gryffindor boy. Hermione tried to justify Ginny’s action but became embarrassed as the couple started to snog at the counter booth. The slytherin chuckled then excused herself to the restroom, accidentally bumping into Slughorn. She apologetically smiled at the red head as the already drunken professor spilled his drink on her. She washed up and looked at her reflection. Dark bags under her eyes were well present due to the overwork of studying. This trip to Hogsmeade was needed to distract her from everything. Word was going out about her head bump with Pansy. Her action made her weeks long and dreadful from the bullying that had increased to a more violent stand point. Occasionally returning to her dorm with bruises and cuts on her body, (Y/N) was exhausted from it. She didn’t tell her friends due to Ron’s and Harry’s quick reaction to pick a fight. Exiting the restroom, the (H/C) student caught sight of a female and Draco. She didn’t stick around long after catching sight of the blond, turning away and heading back to the gang. Her heart cracking at the ghostly sight that happened at the restroom. Putting up a smile, She took her seat next to Hermione and laughed as the female had a cream mustache. (Y/N) helped her by wiping the cream away with her jumper sleeve after Ron pointed it out. ━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━ The group walked towards the school, (Y/N) digging her hands into her coat pocket in order to keep warm. She buried her face into her house scarf to fight off the chilling air. As she was about to speak, a scream caught everyone’s attention. Looking up, the group watched as a poor girl floated to the sky before being slammed down onto the cold snow. Hagrid told them to not touch the object that the student apparently grabbed as he picked her up. (Y/N) pulled out her wand and carefully placed the necklaced back into its case and wrapped it back up. The walk back to school carried a tension amongst them. The Slytherin felt her heart tighten at the thought earlier, mentally wishing she didn’t witness anything. As Mcgonagall and Snape question the Golden Trio, (Y/N) stayed quiet as her mind raced with thoughts of Draco causing this. She wished to defend him after Harry’s statement and Snape’s countering his bold claim. But, she had nothing to say. Only listening to the fast beating of her heart as thoughts of him race in her. Being dismissed, the slytherin parted ways with the trio and went on a search for the blond. She looked everywhere and came empty handed. She leaned back into a wall and slid down to the floor of the empty corridor. A few tears escaping her eyes due to suppressing her thoughts of her former friend harming an innocent student. Letting out quiet sobs, the girl closed her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand. “Draco... what have you done..” She weakly spoke. Her words floated into the empty hall as she let her tears fall. ━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━ The blond boy clenched his fists after failing to repair the cabinet once again. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a shaken breath. His thoughts clouded with anxiety as he started to fear the results of his mission. He looked down at the ink on his left arm and closed his eyes. Focusing on the memory of a (H/C) housemate, he let out a quiet whimper. He sat on the cold stone floor as he remembered their childhood together. How he missed the innocence of being with her and living in a fantasy with her. He regretted raising his voice at her that Halloween night. He dread the times Pansy taunted her and laid hands on her. Always watching from afar, the blond was angered that anyone dared to harm his childhood love. Having witnessed her cry countless times and desperately wanting to hold her. Yet he had to keep up the mask of being the Slytherin Prince.

Rubbing his face, he got up and left the Room of Requirement with Crabbe and Goyle. They went back to the dungeon and went to their dorm. As the two large boys went ahead of him, the pale blond took notice of a certain slytherin who peacefully read a book on the couch. He stared at the female and felt his heart yearn for her, wanting nothing more than to have her read to him like when they were children. He nearly took a step towards her but stopped himself due to recalling his cold words. Listening to the echo that ripped them apart. “Your blood isn’t even close to pure and yet here you are in Slytherin. If you want to be close to that mudblood, then you’re nothing but a filthy traitor, (Y/L/N)!” his gray eyes grew cold as the (E/C) eyed girl defended Hermione’s brilliance despite being a muggleborn. “To think we were ever friends. Father was right about the (Y/L/N)s. Nothing but disgusting bottom feeders.” He couldn’t show his face, not when he caused the distance between them. Without making a sound, Draco went to his dorm and laid on his bed. Drifting down the once happy memories he had with (Y/N).

━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━

The group sat together during lunch as Ron tried to figure out what happened between him and Lavender. Harry looked at (Y/N) as they shared an amusing smile before looking at Hermione, sharing a laugh at her blushful face. Her brown eyes darted around as she began to explain his relationship situation.

“Uh Well.. She came to visit you in the hospital and you talked..” Hermione tried to explain the ginger’s question as she faced him but avoided eye contact, “I don’t believe it was a particularly long conversation..”

The gang looked towards Lavender who sat behind them. She seemed to be glaring at Ron, but that was sort of hard to tell. Ron was rather relieved from finally having air to breath as was (Y/N) do to the girl constantly bothering them during study sessions. (Y/N) excused herself and headed to the library so to get some peace before classes.

The (H/C) Slytherin walked out the dining hall as the blond slytherin walked in. As Harry was questioning Katie, she grew silent at the sight of the blond boy. Draco stared at them in fear before turning around and walked out as quickly as he could through the crowd. Harry followed after him.

(Y/N) wasn’t far when she saw the rivals rush pass her. Without thinking, she chased after them as she feared the worst case. She followed straight to the boy’s restroom but came to a halt. Her mind screamed at her to enter the restroom as she listened to the sound of their duel. As she was about to enter, a set of rushing steps echoed through the hall. She looked up and caught sight of Professor Snape heading her way. She opened the door for him and gasped at the sight of the blond boy bleeding on the watery floor.

━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━

She looked at the wooden floor as the eevie green illuminated around the common room. Leaning forward, (Y/N) rubbed her face to help calm her nerves as she continued to wait. Her (E/C) were glazed with worry while she stared at the platter spread on the table in front of her, mumbling spells to contain the food’s warmth.

Rather than spend her time studying or hanging with her friends, the young student spent the day in the kitchens. She dug deep into her memories to pull out the recipes as she raided the kitchen cabinets and dashed around the place. Her entire being held the aroma of a bakery.

This scent didn’t go unnoticed by her housemates. Everyone was curious as to why the Slytherin Traitor had a feast display and why she had yet to touch anything. Pansy glared daggers towards her back while Crabbe and Goyle stood behind the puggy slytherin and staring hungrily at the honey coated croissants. Their eyes wander around the menu that the female had, drooling at the mere thought of Sticky Toffee Pudding touching their tongues as they glubbed down on freshly made hot chocolate.

Pansy, on the other hand, crossed her arms over her chest while glaring at the quiet female. That ugly wench was there when Draco had his duel. That filthy excuse of a Slytherin helped Snape take her prince to the hospital wing. Pansy was beyond angry as (Y/N) simply sat on the leather couch with the fireplace silently cracked around the Common Room. Clenching her fists, the female walked towards the mumbling student. She reached forward and grabbed a hold of her (H/L) (H/C) hair. Forcing her head back, Pansy dragged the Slytherin Traitor off the couch and onto the floor.

(Y/N) threw her hand up and wrapped them around her tormenter’s wrist, breaking her concentration as she tried to get away from Pansy. Her body was pulled off the couch and harshly hit the wooden floor. She stared up at the short haired female and dug her nails into her bony wrists. (Y/N) needed to maintain the freshness of the food! Her main focus from all the madness in her head after the horrid sight that evening. But, Pansy didn’t understand the importance of it all.

“Let go of me! Let go!” (Y/N) screamed, desperation clearly visible on her face as she tried to free herself. “Parkinson!”

“Cry all you want, you filthy rat.” Pansy smirked as she pulled out her wand and let go of the female. “Petrificus Totalus!”

(Y/N)’s entire body went stiff as she landed on the cold floor. Her eyes staring up at Pansy before darting around in worry. She tried to move her arms but they didn’t respond. Her eyes reddened as tears burned their way out. Slowly a single tear rolled down her (S/C) cheek while listening to Pansy laugh and others joining in soon after. Bearing their laughter, (Y/N) laid still on the floor with no means of breaking. Tears spilled more freely while listening to everyone laugh and Pansy mock her.

“You thought that stunt you pulled from the start of term was your ticket? No. You were horribly wrong. Your traitorous friends were the reason Draco is in the hospital wing! You had the audacity to stand there with Snape as he carried his body.” Pansy stood above her as she aimed her wand at her head. Enjoying the sight of her tears painting her face while laying helpless beneath. “You are nothing more than a bottom feeding excuse of wizarding blood. You don’t deserve to have magic in you. Perhaps… I should do you a favor.”

Her (E/C) snapped open. Fear quickly replaced the humiliation as Pansy grinned down at her. Crabbe and Goyle looked at one another while the crowd around sickly grinned and watched for the scene to unfold.

“Cru-”

“Expelliarmus!”

A voice cut through the crowd. Pansy’s wand flew out her hand as the interrupter pushed his way through the bodies that surrounded them. Upon reaching them, his gray eyes stormed in rage at the sight of (Y/N)’s body on the floor with Pansy standing above her head. The pug felt the tension radiate from his tall frame, but decided to put up an innocent act.

“Oh Draco! What a surprise! (Y/L/N) assaulted me and I had to-”

Draco wasn’t a fool. He had heard her entire rant towards his former friend. No one had noticed the entrance open as they were busy witnessing the cruel torture. He stepped forward and tightened his grip on his wand. His eyes clouded with pure anger at the female that continued to lie through her teeth.

Pansy took a step back as Draco closed in on her. Fearing for coldness that seeped through the storm. She backed away but slipped on her own feet, causing her to fall back. He nearly drew closer to the frightened Pansy but stopped. A hand weakly reached and tugged at the black fabric of his suit. He looked down at the person who stopped him. His empty exterior softened at the weak plea (Y/N) silently gave him. He stared down at her for a moment before turning back to Pansy and everyone present.

“Leave. If so much as a breath is heard, I will personally send you to death.” Everyone quickly left after hearing his words. Seeing that Malfoy was beyond reasoning.

━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━

Once the common room was empty, Draco had helped (Y/N) up and sat her on the couch. He took notice of the food that covered the table. Smiling to himself at the pastries, he wondered how long she had taken to do them. He sat a little away from her and let the silence hang above them.

“They should still be warm… They are all your favorites! I- oh dear.. I hope they still are.. I mean you didn’t look as though you have been resting or eating and I wanted to..” (Y/N) covered her face as she tried to explain herself and the food in front of them, causing Draco to quietly chuckle.

He looked at her and the array of food. Taking a biscuit, he took a bite and smiled at the soft texture. She was right. They were still warm, nearly as fresh as if they had just got out of the oven. Draco picked up a plate and held it out to her, a silent means of asking her to join.

The pair sat quietly and ate. Both waiting for a break in the silence. Draco rehearses what he has been debating for years, while (Y/N) tries to keep her words in check.

"I'm still surprised you aren't a Hufflepuff..." He chuckled softly, glancing over to her while setting his plate down. "You've always been the opposite but somehow it happened.."

To Draco, (Y/N) was too sweet for the cunning house of serpents. She worried over everything and tried to make things safe for everyone. He knew this. He knew she was an innocent princess. She helped the first years during their first week by baking them sweets and showing them the way around Hogwarts. He saw the times she would sit and listen to a Ravenclaw student complain about their issues. He has even overheard her yell at other slytherins for bullying a gryffindor muggleborn due to something muggle related.

He covered his face with his hands but she noticed the stray tear. Reaching for his hands, (Y/N) smiled down at their hands. Tracing a finger over his pale knuckles, she tried her best to ease him.

“I never fit in with the crowd, Draco,” she whispered softly and rubbed his pale knuckles, “But, I tried to because you were there.”

His eyes burned with tears as he stared at her soft expression. His emotions become visible to her after years of suppressing them from everyone. His hands held onto hers and rested his head on her shoulder, not wanting for her to see his tears. (Y/N) scooted closer to him as he hid his face from her, knowing that he was letting his guard down. She held him close to her and rested her head against his.

“I-I’m so sorry, (Y/N).. I’m so bloody sorry for hurting you. I’m so sorry for letting Parkinson hurt you…” he coughed out as his voice became hoarse. Trying desperately to no breakdown when he felt her arms wrap around his trembling body. “He.. He's going to kill me.. I don’t have a choice.. He’ll kill me if I don’t fix them..”

(Y/N) listened to the broken boy. Not once interrupting him as he fumbled over his words from his scattered sentences. She knew what he meant and felt the immense weight that he was going through. He had to do an impossible task in order to protect his family, but the weight that came from it has been suffocating him. She knew he was drowning from the fear and anxiety of failing.

Silence grew around the pair as she held him. The room became cold around them as the fireplace grew dim. However, Draco didn’t feel the bitter air. He only felt warmth around his body. Draco only buried himself deeper into her body, wanting nothing more to hide from the cruel world. He felt adrift in the dark sea that he placed himself. He was scared. He was frightened by the path he was walking, but he couldn’t turn back. He couldn’t escape the dreadful mark on his arm.

The pair had managed to lay on the couch as Draco had curled into (Y/N)’s arms. Her heart gently beating and calming the boy from his emotional storm. Her hand rubbed the mid of his back while he listened to her heart. Neither breaking the silence around them. The sound of soft breathing caught (Y/N)’s attention as she stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes broke away from the ceiling and looked down at the sleeping boy that laid in her arms. Smiling to herself, she reached up and pushed back the silk locks of blond. She leaned ever so slightly and placed a light kiss on his forehead. (Y/N) couldn’t help but be reminded of the happy boy he once was as his slumbering form looked at peace.

“I swore.. We will always be together,” (Y/N) whispered.

━━━━━━ 💚━━━━━━

#draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter halfbloodprince #draco x reader #slytherin #draco x female reader

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thepartyresponsible · 4 years

Text

this fill is for @rozword and @hargreeeves who both asked for frank castle/jason todd and whose prompts happened to work well together. so here’s the first half of a two-part no superheroes au, in which jason is not red hood and has never been robin, but he’s still getting into fights in alleys. the prompt for this one is: "are you leaving?"

warnings for some canon-typical violence and also some canon-typical bad medical decisions.

---

Jason wakes up on a couch that isn’t his, in a house he doesn’t know, with a dog he’s never met curled up next to him. There’s also something wrong with his face and temple and entire skull region, but he’s not surprised by that, given the facts of the situation.

“Fuck’s sake, Rex,” he says, patting the dog on the head. “Why didn’t you cut me off before I drank the entire bar?”

The dog whines softly and nudges Jason’s chin with its nose. The lick to the face that follows isn’t especially upsetting on its own, but Jason’s instinctive flinch sets off an entire New Years Eve of fireworks behind his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he says, swinging his legs off the couch and accidentally dumping the dog to the floor. When he brings his hand up to the side of his head, he touches something rough and tender, a fresh scab over one hell of a swollen bruise.

He reevaluates the dizzy, nauseated feeling in his stomach. He considers the fact that he isn’t wearing a shirt. He investigates the couch, staring pensively at the smears of dried blood that indicate he was still bleeding a little when he passed out.

His boots are sitting neatly by the side of the couch, socks folded and placed on top. His wallet’s there, too, although his phone is missing. He’s still wearing his jeans.

He cuts his loses, shoving his feet into the boots, his socks into one pocket, and his wallet into the other. After a brief internal pep talk for his stomach and his head, he heaves himself into something approximating a standing position and starts maneuvering his way toward the door.

It’s not so bad, really. If he keeps moving, he almost doesn’t notice the way the floor kinda sways under his feet.

He has his hand on the doorknob when he hears it. A soft shift behind him, the creak of wooden furniture, and then a voice, quiet, clear, deep: “Are you leaving?”

Jason turns his whole body to see. He has no plans to try turning his head again any time soon.

There’s a man across the room, sitting in a sunlit breakfast nook, coffee mug in hand, staring at Jason with what Jason chooses to optimistically classify as resting murder face.

“Uh,” Jason says, fumbling with the stubborn door, putting a bit of weight behind his attempts to get through it. “Yeah. Had a great time. Five stars. Thanks. Maybe next time, when someone says ‘fuck my brains out,’ consider the possibility that they didn’t mean it literally.”

The man’s dark eyebrows pull together. “I didn’t--- that’s not.” He sets the mug down and frowns at him, which is a revelation to Jason, who’d been under the impression that he’d been frowning the entire time. “I didn’t fuck your brains out.”

“Yeah, not for lack of trying,” Jason says. “What the hell even happened? Did I take a headboard to the temporal lobe and you just dumped me out here and hoped for the best? What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with this door?”

“Deadbolt’s locked,” the man says. “And you’re concussed. You’ve been having a lot of trouble with doors.”

Jason finds the deadbolt and shoves it open. “Thank God,” he says.

“That isn’t gonna help you,” the man says.

“Could you sound more like a serial killer please?” Jason asks. “Really. When I relay this story to my friends, I want at least one of them to actually piss themselves.”

The man blinks and shifts back a bit, like he’s trying – from clear across this wide open room – to give Jason more space. “That’s the door to the backyard,” he says.

“Oh,” Jason says. He pushes the door open anyway and stares in bleak resignation at the six-foot fence. “I can jump that,” he says. Just to be clear.

“Yeah, I know you can,” the man says. “I saw you fight yesterday.”

Jason blinks. Now that he’s said it, there is some kind of memory there. Vague, half-formed. When Jason focuses on it, it waves and fades like breath in the winter. “There was a fight?”

The man looks uncomfortable now, glares down at his coffee for a second. “Yeah. You and a few guys. I was walking by. Heard some noises. Some yelling.”

It’s the word yell that does it. Summons a clip of memory out of the inky black swamp of last night. Jason, picking himself up off the ground, blood in his eyes. Shaking his head, blinking, and then catching, in the corner of his vision, this guy taking a brick out of someone’s hand and then breaking that arm, neat and fast. The snap, and then the scream.

“You broke someone’s arm,” Jason says.

“Well,” he says, sinking deeper into the chair, taking a sip of his coffee like he thinks it’s gonna somehow hide his face. “Like I said, there was a fight.”

Jason closes the door and turns back around. He takes a few steps closer to breakfast nook. He can’t for the life of him remember what the hell he was fighting about, but he figures it was probably worth it. He doesn’t get in that many fights anymore. He is learning, slowly, to pick his battles.

“So there was a fight,” Jason says, “and then, what? You were like ‘that’s hot, better bring that guy home?’”

He frowns. “Not like—I tried to call your friends for you, but you kept giving me the number for some pizza place.”

Jason does a quick mental check of the phone numbers he actually has memorized, and he begrudgingly admits that the top three are all fast food establishments. “Well, maybe I was hungry.”

He stares, deadpan and silent for a full beat. “Could be,” he admits. “You did throw up on my shoes.”

“And I’m not fucking sorry,” Jason says, even though he is. Also, somewhat mortified. “Was I giving you a bad number for 9-1-1, too?”

“No, but you had a lot of loud opinions about cops you really wanted to share. Figured it probably wouldn’t work out well if they showed up.”

Jason hasn’t fought a cop since high school. Again, he’s learning. But he’s willing to admit that some of his hard-won character growth might’ve temporarily vanished after the blow to the head.

“Coulda dropped me at a hospital,” Jason points out.

The man raises a single skeptical brow. “I tried.” He doesn’t elaborate, but the expression on his face indicates that the process of his attempt was not an especially pleasant one.

“So you brought me here,” Jason says, “and then--”

“Tried to clean you up a bit,” he says. “You didn’t like that. So I got you some water, and some ice. Checked on you a few times overnight. You didn’t like that either.”

Jason is starting to realize that maybe he’s been something of a nightmare and an asshole to this guy. “I bled on your couch,” he says, just so they can get everything out in the open.

“It’s okay.” He shrugs. “It’s not a great couch.”

Jason blinks at him. “You’re being really calm about this.”

He stares at him for a second and then drops his eyes to the table. After a moment, he shrugs again and looks up. “Combat vet,” he says. “Not the first or the worst head injury I’ve seen. Figured you’d be okay so long as you didn’t get confused and walk off a bridge. Or find another six guys to fight.”

“Six?” Jason asks. Jesus, he must’ve been really pissed about something. Or they were really pissed. Or they were mutually pissed at each other.

“Well, six when I got there,” he says. “Looked like maybe you’d already handled one of them.”

It occurs to Jason that, as shitty as this morning is and as bad as he feels, he’s probably supposed to feel a hell of a lot worse. Maybe he’s supposed to be dead right now.

“I’m Jason,” he says.

“Frank Castle,” the man says.

Jason gets another flash memory. Himself, banging his fist on a dashboard, yelling “Frankie says relax!” at a startled car of clubbers at a red light.

“Oh my God,” Jason says. Very carefully, he brings his hand up to his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t just throw me into traffic.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Frank says. “You only hit me once.”

Jason scans the patchwork quilt of memories he’s built so far. At no point does he remember hitting Frank. “When the hell was that?”

There’s a second where Frank seems to replay the night in his head, like even he’s having some difficulty tracking the madhouse funshow timeline of a concussed Jason. “You couldn’t get in the truck,” he says, finally. “It’s kinda high. You kept tripping on your boots. I was gonna help you. Got too close, I guess. So you elbowed me in the throat.”

“Right into traffic,” Jason repeats. “You coulda just…” He mimes picking up a body and hurling it into oncoming traffic.

“Nah,” he says. “Once you were done swearing at me, you were actually really sweet about it.”

Jason trudges the rest of the way across the room and slumps into the chair opposite Frank. He figures, at this point, he’s given Frank cause and opportunity to murder him. If Frank passed on his chance, he’s probably not interested.

“No sign of my phone?” he asks.

“Oh, found signs,” Frank says. “Looks like you broke it on somebody’s teeth.”

Jason sighs. “Goddamn it.”

“Can use mine,” Frank offers. He slides it across the table to Jason, all his motions so slow and measured that they don’t even make Jason feel seasick when he follows them. “If you can remember any number that isn’t for pizza.”

If Jason focuses past the ache in his head, he can remember Roy’s number. And Dick’s, too, although he’s really hoping it won’t come to that.

Jason picks up the unlocked phone and navigates to the call screen. “Thanks,” he says. “For not killing me. Or letting me be killed.”

Frank looks at him like he has no idea what to do with that. After a second, he stands up. “You want some coffee?”

“God,” he says. “Please, yes. Absolutely. And, like. Seventeen Advil.”

“Three Tylenol,” Frank says. “And you gotta eat toast.”

“Stop trying to save my life, Frank,” Jason says. “I’ve got it from here.”

Frank blinks at him, long and slow, and Jason’s not sure he could look more dubious if he tried.

“Fine,” Jason says. “Three Tylenol and some toast. Sounds great.”

Frank nods and sets off into the kitchen. Jason watches him go, memories shifting and settling in his head of Frank’s hands on the side of his face, carefully tipping him toward a light that hurt. An ice pack pressed gently to his skin, someone taking off his boots.

“You can borrow a shirt,” Frank calls back over his shoulder. “When you go. Yours was ruined.”

“Okay,” Jason says. “Thanks.” The dog sidles up next to him, presses its nose right into his palm. He dials Roy’s number as he scratches behind its soft, floppy ears. “I’m gonna take your dog, too.”

Frank looks over at him, eyes dropping immediately to the dog at Jason’s side and then rising to Jason. That resting murder face is still firmly in place, but Jason’s starting to learn how to see behind it, and there’s something like a smile back there, hidden behind the serious set of his mouth and the furrow between his brows.

“No,” Frank says. “Sadie stays.”

“Relax, Frankie,” Jason says, and Frank full-on rolls his eyes in the single most decisive display of emotion Jason’s seen so far.

“Don’t start that again,” he says. “My neighbors already left a shitty note.”

Jason hopes like hell that all his memories come back. Because while it sounds like there are parts of last night he’s happy to lose, there are other parts he kinda wants back.

Frank does that thing again where he doesn’t quite smile, and Jason grins back at him for a second before his face reminds him that emotive facial expressions aren’t really a good idea right now. He grimaces, and Frank’s smile disappears.

He ducks into the kitchen, and Jason presses ‘Call.’

#writing #fic #fill

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Part 25

Summary: All happy days must come to an end...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @ma10427 @outerbongs @lonely-kermit @iamaunicorn4704 @gviosca @lasnaro @justcallmesams @agirlwholovescoffee @lopineapples @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @jellyfishbeansontoast @tangledinsparkles @hurricane-abigail @eb15

AU:Part 24 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31

Note: This chapter deals with some triggering themes, viewers discretion is advised.

I’m thinking of doing a story on Kol Mikaelson next. What are your guy’s thoughts?

======================

“I think I made it clear the last time we saw each other Rafe that I said to stay off The Cut.” I sneered.

“You see little Pogue, I don’t give a flying fuck what you say. You know why? I always win.” Rafe said, his grin making me even more angry.

“Cut the bullshit Rafe what do you want?” JJ asked, his fists balling up.

“I came to give a warning, from Barry. Since he’s fully recovered he’s on a revenge high. He wants his 25k, so I suggest you Pogues get to finding a way to get that.” Rafe said, leaning back against his bike.

“Your fucking family stole our money, and killed my brother. Do you even care that Sarah is dead Rafe?” I taunted him, tilting my head to the side.

“You watch your fucking mouth” Rafe said, taking a step closer to me, JJ stepped in front of me.

“Let’s go JJ,” I said, pulling on JJ’s arm. We started back towards the van, our backs turning to Rafe.

“I’d act fast little Pogue, before you end up like the rest of your family!” Rafe shouted, JJ’s head snapping up. JJ tried to yank his arm from me, I got in front of him to put my other hand on his chest.

“JJ! Baby, stop please. Don’t let him ruin our good day, please. Let’s go home,JJ.” I said, keeping a tight grip on his arm. His breathing was erratic as he glared holes into Rafe.

“Let me go sweets.” JJ growled, hearing Rafe laugh. I turned around to look at Rafe who was still leaned back on his bike, JJ using my distraction to yank his arm free. He charged at Rafe, I ran after him hoping to stop him from starting a fight at work.

“JJ we’re at work please!” I yelled.

“I’m off the clock” JJ sneered.

JJ lunged at Rafe, both of them toppling over his bike. Fists and blood were flying every direction, Rafe taunting JJ to get him even more worked up.

“You will never be what she needs from a man Maybank. How could you possibly think you’ll ever be good enough for her? You’ll end up just like your dad, you are corrupting her JJ.” Rafe said, laughing at JJ’s furry.

I reached around JJ, trying to pull him off Rafe, when one particular punch he went to throw caused his elbow to go straight into my nose. I yelped, backing away from them. Blood starting to gush everywhere, JJ turned for a split second when he heard me.

Rafe using that to his advantage to flip them over, trying his best to get his hands around JJ’s throat. I ignored the pain and blood running through my nose, desperate now to save JJ. I got in front of Rafe and swung my fist with all the power I had within me right into Rafe’s nose. With the blood loss and how much energy it took for me to punch Rafe, I started becoming extremely dizzy. I swayed back and forth, JJ jumping up in enough time to catch me before I hit the pavement.

=============================

I sat in the passenger seat with JJ’s shirt balled against my nose to catch the blood pouring out of it. JJ was silent the whole way home, more than likely beating himself up about accidentally hitting me. I was furious at him for fighting outside our work, knowing that we can’t afford to lose our jobs. I slammed the door to the van shut, throwing the front door open. I went to the bathroom to clean myself off, sticking mine and JJ’s shirt in the sink so I could work on getting the blood stains out. Thankfully my nose had finally stopped bleeding, all that remained was a nasty bruise that was forming. I made a mental note to put some ice on it later, I brought our shirts to the kitchen. I was working on getting the stains out when I felt JJ hug me from behind.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, laying his head on my shoulder.

“You’re lucky no customers saw us out there Maybank, you need to learn to control your impulses.” I said, still concentrating on our shirts. I knew if I looked into his sad baby blue eyes, I would instantly forgive him.

“I know, I know. Let me see your nose.” he said, trying to turn me around,

“JJ stop, I need to get these stains out.” I said, moving away from him. He forced me around to face him, his eyes widening at the deep purple bruise surrounding my nose. Tears coming to the surface of his eyes, he put his hand over his mouth.

“Baby,” he gasped.

“It’s not as bad as it looks” I said, looking away from him. He took my face in his hands, turning it so he could look at the damage he created. No doubt analyzing every detail.

“I’m so sorry” he sobbed, his head flopping down on my shoulder.

“JJ, it was an accident honey.” I whispered, forgetting about being mad at him.

“I hurt you, god I’m such a fuck up!” he shouted, pulling away from me to pull at his hair.

“J, honey” I whispered, reaching out for him.

“NO! Everyone’s right! I’m just like him! I fuck everything up! I-I can’t do anything to make anyone happy, I end up hurting people I love!” he shouted, turning to me. Tears were running down his face, he looked so broken. It hurt my heart to see him like this.

“JJ that is not true, you are nothing like him.” I said softly, still trying to get to him. He backed up every step I took towards him.

“It should have been me...I wish it would have been me and not John B.” he whispered, choking out a sob. I gasped, my eyes going wide as saucers.

JJ took off out the door, it took me a minute to gather myself before I followed him. He was going towards the HMS, my heart was pounding in my chest.

“JJ! What are you doing?!” I yelled.

“I need to be alone for a bit.” he said codly.

“What do you mean?” I asked, finally catching up to him. I grabbed his arm to which he yanked out of my hold.

“I don’t know how to make it more clear to you than that cupcake. I. Want. To. Be. Alone.” he said, emphasizing the words with anger.

“Please, don’t leave me.” I whispered, tears of my own gathering in my eyes.

“You don’t need someone like me in your life...you deserve someone who is going to be what you need. I can’t be that for you, I’m dragging you down sweetheart.” he said, working on getting the boat in the water.

“Stop, JJ! Please don’t do this to me, my heart can’t take it.” I sobbed, trying to stop him from pushing the boat in. He shoved me away, making me fall on my ass in the dirt. I got up, still determined to stop him from leaving.

“Don’t wait up, I’m not sure when I’m coming back..” he muttered, my heart shattered.

“You promised me Maybank! You promised that you would never leave me, even when times got tough. JJ, please don’t go!” I cried out, pulling on his arm again.

“Promises are made to be broken Routledge,” he sneered, pushing my hands away.

“JJ can we please just-” I said, exasperated.

“Just let me go dammit!” he yelled, turning around to grab my wrists.

“Baby, let’s go inside and talk. Please JJ, I can’t lose you. Everyone in my life has left me, please, don’t leave me.” I blubbered, my eyes closing as I completely shut down. JJ let go of me and just stared, not saying a word. I felt anger begin to rise within me, rage burning deep in my chest.

“You know what,go! I don’t give a fuck what you do JJ! Just leave!” I shouted, shoving his chest towards the boat. “This is done! I’m done with you and all this bullshit! You were the one good thing in my life JJ! I don’t give a rats ass about what other people say about you, it’s up to me to decide if I want you in my life or not! I chose you JJ, you are the love of my life! I can’t go a single second without thinking about you, about our future. You are my beacon of light at the end of a dark tunnel. My sunshine on a rainy day, you are my happiness JJ. But if you really can’t see how happy you make me, go.” I said, turning my back to him and going back in the house.

=====================================

It had been a long three days since JJ had left, no one had heard from him. I continued going to work, Kie constantly asking me if I was ok. I wasn’t, but I didn’t want them to know. We had too much to worry about without me dumping my relationship problems out.

“We have more important things to deal with Kie, like how we are going to get 25k to give back to Barry.” I said, both of us cleaning up the dining room.

“Well we know Ward is keeping that gold somewhere, how can we find out?” Pope pondered, sitting at the bar.

“Maybe I could sneak into their house, find something in his office.” I said, considering the idea.

“No way, that sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.” Kie said, Pope agreeing.

“Well what other choices do we have?” I asked, setting my hands on my hips.

“I say we try to negotiate something with him.” Pope said, leaning back in his seat.

“Pope, did you forget that he literally tried to kill me?” I asked, raising my brows at him.

“I hate to say it, but we need JJ.” Kie said, sighing. I tensed, glaring at her.

“Well you guys let me know when you find him.” I said, stomping out of The Wreck. Pope and Kie called after me, but I ignored them.

I sped home, punching the steering wheel as I thought about JJ. He was so infuriating, he beat himself up because that’s all anyone in his life has done to him. I was the only one that believed in him, but that wasn’t good enough. I missed him, and I hated myself for thinking it. Angry tears pricked behind my eyes, my chest burning of sadness. I didn’t know what to do anymore, I lost my brother, JJ, and now I have the burden of being chased by a revenge crazed drug dealer. I pulled into the chateau, slamming on the breaks. I walked into my house to see Rafe Cameron sitting on my couch.

“What the fuck Rafe?!” I screeched, throwing my stuff on the table beside the door.

“Evening little Pogue, you should really get better locks for you door.” he said, unbothered.

“Why are you in my house?” I spat out.

“Thought I’d drop by to see what your progress was on getting that 25k. Where’s your boyfriend?” Rafe smirked, as if he knew what had happened between us.

“None of your damn business Cameron.” I growled out, fists balling up at my sides.

“Awww little Pogue, did JJ leave you? Did he finally realize how damaged you are? How completely worthless you are to him?” Rafe taunted, standing up from the couch.

“Shut up” I sneered, doing everything in my power to keep my cool.

Rafe snatched my wrist in his hand, I pulled away from him. I backed up towards the kitchen, Rafe stalking towards me. I started panicking, wishing more than ever now that I hadn’t left The Wreck. My breathing started to become shallow as I kept backing away from Rafe, eventually ending up being stuck in a corner. He came closer, trapping me in. My breathing became even more erratic, tears starting to run down my face.

“Please Rafe, what do you want?” I asked, trying my best to shove him away. He grabbed my wrists, holding them so tight I knew I’d have bruises.

“I want you little Pogue” Rafe said quietly, smashing his lips down on mine. I was disgusted, trying desperately to get away from him.

“Get off of me!” I screamed as he boxed me in. He put one of his legs between mine so he could prevent me from moving off the wall, taking one of his hands to grab my hair.

“We’re going to have so much fun little Pogue, I’ve wanted this for so long.” he said, sticking his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. I cried out when I felt his teeth biting into my neck.

“Rafe, stop! Please don’t!” I cried out, really starting to panic now.

I pushed his head away from me only for him to grab my wrists again, pinning them to the wall. Holding both of my wrists in one hand, he took the other and started to trail down my body. I tried and failed to move myself from his crude invasion, my chest burning from the lack of oxygen I was able to take in. I was in full blown panic mode, wanting JJ more than ever to come back home. Rafe laughed as I sobbed hysterically, his sinister smirk creating a haunting image in my brain.

“Country club, what the fuck are you doing?” Barry asked, I didn’t even hear the door open.

“Nothing now boss,” Rafe huffed, backing away from me. I sank down to the ground, curling into a ball.

“I told you to scare her, not assault her. Let’s go, get your ass in the car.” Barry sneered, not even sparing me a glance as he and Rafe left my house.

When they left, it took me a minute to process everything. I sobbed into my arms, rocking myself back and forth. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs feeling like they were on fire. I crawled towards my bag, dots appearing in my vision from the lack of air. The door opened again, JJ walking in the chateau.

“JJ!” I wailed, collapsing on the floor.

“Baby what happened?!” he asked, pulling me into his arms. Both of us now sitting in the floor with me laying over his lap.

“I-I, it hurts,” I cried, holding on to him as tight as possible.

“What hurts? What is going on?” he demanded, brushing my sweaty hair out of my face.

“I-” I wheezed, my breathing becoming even more short.

“Breathe baby, come on. Stay with me sweets.” he said, putting my hand on his chest so I could copy his movements.

“Rafe was here,” I said, I couldn’t look him in the eye. I felt so disgusted with myself, I should have fought harder.

“What happened? Tell me.” JJ whispered, trying to look at my face.

“He-I-I feel so disgusting JJ. I tried so hard to fight him off, I know I could have fought harder. I was so scared, and I couldn’t breathe.” I sobbed into his chest. JJ gasped, catching on to what I was trying to say.

“He touched you,” he said as more of a statement than a question. I nodded, crying even harder against him. “I’m going to kill him.” JJ growled, his arms tightening around me.

“I’m so sorry JJ,” I cried, grabbing at his shirt.

“You have no reason to be sorry sweetheart, it’s me who should be apologizing.” he said, rocking me in his arms.

“Can we go lay in our room?” I asked quietly, JJ nodded. He carried me into the bedroom, laying me on my side while he went to his side. We cuddled up to each other, our faces close together. I felt so safe being with JJ now, realizing how much I missed him, and how much I needed him.

“I’m so sorry baby,” JJ whispered, his eyes staring deep into mine. A regretful look adorning his features.

“It’s ok J, the important thing is that you’re here now.” I said, sliding my face into his neck.

“I should never have left in the first place, I made a promise to you, and I broke that promise.” he said, running his fingers through my hair.

“JJ” I whispered.

“And Rafe he-he had the nerve to hurt my girl. For that, he’s gonna pay. Especially for assaulting you in the most disgusting way. I am never leaving your side again. For good this time sweets, I’m all yours 25/8.” he said, smiling at the end of his rant.

“That’s all I want honey, I love you so much JJ. More than I will ever be able to make you understand. You are my JJ, my partner in crime, and I will not go another day without you beside me.” I said firmly, squeezing him tight.

“You mean the world to me, I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what I had in front of me. I want to be there for you, I want to believe I am what you say.” he said, my skin feeling the tears he shed. I lifted my head to wipe under his eyes.

“Then believe me JJ, fuck what other people have to say. The only people that matter in our relationship is the people sitting here. Me and you. You’re all I’ve got now JJ, please don’t leave me again.” I said, a single tear running down my cheek.

“Never again baby, I love you so much.” JJ blubbered, hugging me tight to him. We both cried for a minute, both of us eventually falling asleep in each others embrace.

============================

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

The Emissaries of Death and War Ch. 1 Strike Fast, Strike First

Summary: Some old enemies show up to fight Dark, who has three of his Lost Ones with him.

A/N: Techno and Philza are sworn blood brothers in this AU. There will be no shipping of them here, only the promise of Tommy and Wilbur angst in the future.

Chapters: 1, 2

Dark was having a rare calm day, mostly because as opposed to most days, because unlike other days he had not only Illinois with him but Bim and the Host. So his blue soul was in an extremely good mood and Dark wanted to keep it that way.

The Entity knew something was wrong with his aura and he wanted to make sure his blue soul wasn’t to blame again. But to do that effectively Dark needed both his souls calm so he could thoroughly inspect his blue soul without his red soul flying into a protective fury. She tended to think he was going to hurt her brother.

But for the moment his souls were calm and Dark had one of the Lost One he rarely got to see.

It was a good day, until Dark noticed there were a lot of crows watching them. Too many crows. There had to be well over a hundred.

Dark thought, at least for a second or two, that the birds belonged to King. The young man had more than a couple ravens, crows, and other birds sworn to his service due to being fed and protected by him. These crows were different, Dark realized they weren’t even birds, just manifestations of aura.

“Heya[1] mate.”

Dark turned to look behind him, his aura curling around the three Lost Ones as he recognized the two individuals down the street. One in a green haori and the other in full armor and a pig mask. The second individual was a beast of a person with a long braid of pink hair.

The Angel of Death, and the Blood God.

“Fuck,” Dark hissed under his breath.

“When I first got to this place I thought I smelt the iron fist of a dictator,” Techno gave as a greeting. “Thought you would have learned after Agra. You’re lucky the first thing I came across was a very nice glitch who showed me you don’t rule this entire city. Or else I would have torched this place to the ground.”

Dark braced for an attack, already readying his aura to make portals.

Then Techno moved first, as he tended to, bloodlust boiling in his eyes. Dark had seen that haze come over him in battle before.

“Sic semper tyrannis,”[2] Techno promised as he raced at Dark and his companion drew his own sword and his cloak pulled off of him to show that it had been a pair of dark grey wings.

Dark tried to push his three sons into a portal and move them safely to the Manor but the Host’s aura stopped him.

“The Host has been waiting for this,” the Host told Dark.

“This is not some game, they are older and stronger than all of you,” Dark spat as he split his aura and attention between trying to keep the worst of Techno’s hits from landing on his sons and just keep Philza from throwing himself into the fight and making it harder for Dark to defend his three sons.

“Then the Host fails to understand how the Entity could face both opponents on his own,” the Host informed Dark. “The Host will take care of his brothers, the Entity should deal with the Blade’s sworn blood brother.”

Mostly by force, not by choice, Dark had to concentrate on his current opponent. He did his best to try and keep an eye on the other fight.

“Never thought you’d be the type to have some spawnlings, mate, much less keep ‘em[3] around,” Philza smiled, his sword glowing a vibrant purple as it tried to cut through Dark’s aura. “But yah[4] think they can really take on the Blade?”

“What do you two want?” Dark growled, barely noticing the swirl of black crows and ravens racing towards him in time, and Dark brought his aura up to block as much of the attack as possible. “This is my city!”

“Exactly, mate,” Philza grinned, “you had ta[5] know we’d find out about it eventually.”

After they broke apart again, Phil glanced around, grinning, “Where’s Phantom? Been a while since we all played catch up.”

“He and I are no longer pact mates,” Dark growled, shoving the avian back with his aura.

“Ehh, good fer[6] you, mate.” Philza was all smiles. “Bloke was a shite friend anyways.”

“Shut up,” Dark hissed back as Phil’s smile widened, and Dark charged at him with his aura. The Entity noticed in the strike that some of Philza’s feathers were burned off to the bone, which explained why he hadn’t taken to the sky and tried skewering Dark from above like he annoyingly tended to do in fights.

With the three brothers, Techno was proving to be a more forceful fighter than they were used to. And he had singled out a main target: Bim.

While Bim had an aura that could score marks in just about everything he didn’t exactly have the best control over it. And so Techno focused on taking down the more unpredictable opponent.

Bim knew he was nowhere near as powerful as his brothers. He and Dark had certainly trained a bit with his aura but Dark never wanted to actually train him unless Bim asked first and Bim didn’t want to ask Illinois or Anti because he was so jealous that aura just came naturally to his older brother and he wanted to already be at the stage he could impress people with it. He could only make either one large portal or several smaller portals big enough to fit his hands and he had been warned several times not to accidentally close his hands on them — as Dark had demonstrated with a slab of meat and Bim had watched the thing get cut in half.

Unfortunately, he was not and it was obvious to everyone around that Bim wasn’t as skilled as his older brothers.

“Bim, out of the way!” Illinois shouted and pulled Bim back in time so that when Techno came at the young man the blade slid through Bim’s aura and slashed him across the arm instead of cutting his whole arm off. Thankfully it didn’t cut deep, but Bim screamed in pain and then Illinois was there, putting himself in-between his brother and their opponent.

Several gunshots rang out, and Techno and the trio of brothers turned to see Wilford standing there with his revolver and a huge smile on his face.

“You all having fun without me?” Wilford chuckled but then when his eyes locked with the eyes of Techno’s mask, Wil’s smile began to fade and his ears started to bleed and he was muttering something repeatedly.

The three brothers didn’t know what Wilford was saying, but Techno did: “Blood for the Blood God”. It was a phrase that Techno heard almost every waking moment. The voices that fought for his attention would often repeat it, among other things.

Bim tried to hit Techno but the experienced fighter summoned a shield to knock Bim back.

“Be with you in a sec,” Techno promised him as Wilford turned and immediately started bolting for the nearest crowd, taking out his stiletto knife and shooting and just stabbing people without saying a single word.

“Dad?” Bim whispered in shock.

“Host!” Illinois yelled, reaching out for his older brother.

“The Host is trying,” the Host shouted back at him.

“아빠!”[7] Illinois called out.

“Phil!” Techno called out at the same time and both Phil and Dark stopped fighting to look out at the sea of carnage quickly spreading out in the city. “Phil!”

“What’d you do, mate?” Phil demanded.

The fight came to a sudden screeching halt as Dark ported His three boys to the Manor and raced after Wil, using his aura to dodge bullets as he went, Techno and Phil hot on his heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: In retrospect maybe having someone who can canonically read minds, and someone who canonically has thousands of voices screaming in his head together in the same space is a bad idea.

Accessibility Translations:

1. Hey there

2. Thus always to tyrants.

3. them

4. you

5. to

6. for

7. Dad! (Korean — used informally, phonetically read as: Appa.)

#superhero au #masks and maladies #dream smp #footnotes #Darkiplier #wilford warfstache #illinois the adventurer #ahwm illinois #bim trimmer #the Host #technoblade #Philza #darkstache #Philza and Techno are blood brothers #magic #fighting

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

Text

Trigger/Content warning: Clear mentions and remarks of Neil being a real fucking abusive asshole.

And Steve being supportive and kind to Billy as he struggles

There was no roar of the engine, no deafening music blasting out the windows, or dramatic entrance this morning.

Billy stomps through the halls of Hawkins High, collar popped and shoulders raised, face hard and mean, daring anyone to fucking say a word. He pushes and shoves through the gawking crowd, their eyes blown wide in shock at the rough buzz cut that his dad had forced upon him this morning.

Neil caught Billy enjoying the view in his mirror again, and decided enough was enough, that he wasn't gonna have some faggot strutting around in his house. And grabbed the trimmer.

It's rough and uneven, but not a single long curl left on his head.

And when Steve sees it he's... terrified and worried. Eyes just as big as everyone else, mouth gaping, but his heart stops beating. He's convinced that Billy's going to beat him up; a way to blow off steam and relieve some of his justified anger in an unwarranted way. They were just starting to get along, finally comfortable enough to smile and laugh together, when his asshole dad had to go and ruin Billy's life more.

There's so much unbelievable pain in those ocean blues, life hanging on by a string there.

But Billy averts his gaze. He visibly turns his head away as he passes by Steve standing at his locker.

And that hurts just as well. A pang of the heart, like a needle piercing through with red hot heat. He's been beat up, broken up with, hunted by demo-dogs, yet this pain is by far the most intolerable one that Steve has had to suffer through so far.

But Steve's a fool in love. So he follows along the cleared path where students are quick to murmur and gossip as soon as Billy is out of sight.

Turns a corner just to see guys sprinting out from the bathrooms.

And he finds Billy alone, trembling, knuckles turned white where he balls up his fists, shoulders still high and tense and he-

It sounds more like a bestial roar of madness, than that of a man brimming with rage, as he bares his teeth as wide as he can at his own reflection in the greasy mirror.

Then there's blood, as his fist collides with the glass and shatters it.

“Billy!” Steve's shocked to his very core.

“Go away...” There's no resemblance of aggravation in Billy's voice.

He turns his back to Steve, head hanging low and bleeding hand pulled to his chest. Every step he takes seems so uncertain and weak, as he slowly retreats further into the bathroom.

“Billy, please,” Steve speaks with the softness of angels, and he takes far longer steps.

“Steve,” his voice cracks and splinters. “I'm asking you to leave me alone.”

“I'm sorry Billy, but I cannot do that. You're hurt.”

Billy puts a hand to the tiles in the corner furthest away, fingertips digging in to the crevice between white. Tries to stay standing all he can, but his quivering knees give out, and he lands with a thud on the ground, hunched over.

“Fuck, Billy-” Steve runs to him and slides onto the floor.

He has absolutely no clue as for what to do, but he has never wanted to hug and hold another person more than now. And when he hears the first sob bumble out, his palm touches down on Billy's back that stutters with every breath.

And unsurprisingly, Billy flinches away from that touch.

Steve feels like a huge asshole immediately for having touched Billy without even considering... “I'm- I'm sorry Billy, I'm so so sorry, is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” He feels a knot strangle him, his heart so uncertain of everything.

“Don't...” Billy snivels, “Don't go...”

Every time Steve thinks his heart can't break any more for him, another piece gets chipped away. “I'm not leaving you. Ever, you hear me, Hargrove?” he tries for a smile, not that Billy can see the kind gesture. “I'll stay here with you for as long as you need me.”

It takes less than a second for him to finish talking, before Billy whips around and throws himself at Steve, knocking him on his back, Billy on top; crying and pressing his face deep into Steve's chest, soaking up his expensive polo with tears and blood.

And there's nothing else in the world to do, but for Steve to hold him. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling, careful as to not accidentally touching his... his head. Fights to just stay quiet, say nothing and let Billy empty his lungs and tears all over his chest.

Even when the school bell rings, they stay like this. For several arduous minutes, they stay like this. And when Billy's lamenting turns to quiet weeping, they stay like this.

Steve never stopped holding him, continuously rubbing gentle circles into the back of the denim jacket, never pausing.

Billy takes a deep breath. “I hate my dad.”

“That's very understandable,” Steve responds quietly.

“I'm so... unhappy.”

“I know.”

“I can't go home, not after this...” Tears well up so easily now, and they spill onto the striped fabric again.

“Then don't.”

Billy huffs a dejected laugh. “And where would I go? I don't have anyone but my shithead dad.” His hand closes around the polo.

“That's not true – you can come stay with me. I've got plenty of space.” Steve doesn't even need to think about that for a second.

And although he can't see it, he feels a smile form where Billy's pressed against his chest.

“Yeah? In that big haunted mansion of yours?” Billy feels... pathetic, utterly worthless, completely devoid of value. But lying here on the floor with Steve, he could maybe feel... hopeful.

Steve smiles too. “Yeah, and don't worry, you'll have your own room, and we've got three bathrooms and a giant kitchen. There's space for you.”

There's space for me, the answer to a thought Billy hadn't had the courage to ask: Will I be in the way?

Silence falls on them after that, as Billy thinks thoroughly about what to say next, and Steve waits patiently for him to be ready, finger still brushing his back.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? You don't have to be here...” And Billy's ready to burst into tears again as cruel thoughts bubble up from the tar that is his anxiety.

“Because I love you,” Steve says as if it's a well known fact to the world, as if he's said it before, as if he means it.

Billy has never turned his head this quickly before, angles it so that his chin rests on a pec, as he looks up at Steve.

And Steve looks right back.

“And when you love someone, you're willing to do absolutely anything for them.”

Being speechless doesn't come easy to one Billy Hargrove, but there's a first time for everything. Wide eyes, blue and wet, stares in disbelief, eyebrows curved like as if he has a question that he can't find words for.

“You still love me without my hair?” his voice hoarse and barely even a shell of his usual bravado.

“Your looks have nothing to do with the way I feel about you.” Steve smiles affectionately and lovingly.

Another first. Someone willing to love Billy when his charming looks have been tarnished, and his badass reputation destroyed, no doubt.

But maybe times are changing. Maybe there won't be a need for that crude wall to be up anymore.

“Come on,” Steve whispers, “let's get you to the nurses office with that hand, and then we can... do whatever you want.”

They stand up together, and Steve gently wipes Billy's face clean of tears and sorrow.

“Sorry about your shirt...” Billy mumbles and brings his not-bloody hand to touch at the stained fabric.

“It's okay.” Steve takes the hand into his own and kisses the back of it. “I'll just buy a new one, it doesn't matter.”

And he doesn't let go of that hand ever again.

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years

Note

How about modern Steggy meeting at Pride? Both bi, but that's not why she's there, she's there cause her young child is trans and she's not letting them grow up ashamed of this ("Even if it does turn out to be a temporary questioning 'phase', I won't let them ever be ashamed of being who they are."). Cause like 10 year old Carter child who's a little antsy to be there, Peggy with bi-pride tipped curls, and Steve with the trans flag painted on his cheek

OP YOUR MIND!! They would fiercely protect the Carter Child, not that Steve thinks she can’t do it, but he’s downright feral at times when it comes to kids in danger. This might not be what you had in mind, so I do apologize. This got ahead of me is quite long.

“Ignore them,” Bucky breathed in Steve’s ear, tugging on the blonde’s hand to get him away from the protesters that are somehow legally allowed here. This was borderline abuse if you asked him. Sure, freedom of speech but it was quickly cut off when you yelled at children and elderly people for being themselves.

Steve growled under his breath and tugged his hand away from Bucky’s, careful not to touch the drying trans flag painted across his cheek. Natasha would be furious if he messed up her work. Or touch the chalk-dye of the flag in his hair.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, despite Bucky didn’t look like he’d believed him. The guy stood out like a Christmas tree, literally with the bi flag colors wrapped around the metallic arm and shining bright enough to land a plane. “Just go find Clint, I’m going to walk off. Need to cool down.”

Before the man could say a thing, Steve was stomping off, in midst of the crowd to get away from his rightfully worried, best friend.

The last he expected was when he emerged from the other side of the crowd was to be tackled-hug by a ten-year-old child with bright hazel eyes, a buck-tooth grin, the same colors in his hair dyed on their hair, and wearing a shirt that read, ‘i’m the trans kid your parents warned you about.’

Steve fell to his backside to avoid instinct-wise to protect himself, an arm wrapped around the kid to prevent any of them from being trampled over by the crowds rushing from one stand to another.

“You’re Captain Ameria!” The kid sat upon his chest, still bright-eyed, kneeling rather painfully. “You’re Steve Rogers! I did reports about you.” They were actively bouncing up and down and Steve was doing his best to school the pain the sharp knees caused.

“I am,” he grunted. “Can we keep it to a whisper, son? It’s a secret.” He pressed his finger to his lips to indicate hush, hush until he saw the kid’s eyes widen and go glassy. “Oh no, no. Hey, hey, did I say something wrong?” He sat up and the kid latched on, imitating what Steve imagine what it was like to hug a Khola.

His arms wrapped around the kid and gently held them close, kissing their temple in a show of calming them down. What could he say? He still had parental instinct installed in him from his mother.

He could feel the kid’s sobs against his chest, feel their fingers dig into his shirt, refusing to let go while he tried to calm them down. If anyone noticed Captain America clinging to a sobbing kid, no one stopped to say a thing.

“Michael?! Michael!”

A breathless woman with flushed cheeks, the same brown eyes, and her hair dyed in the bi flag colors scrambles to them. She drops to her knees beside them and slides the last few steps, looking from her child to Steve.

“I-I don’t know -” Steve breathed, a panic looked etched on his face. “They tackled me and I-I fell and-and accidentally said son, a-a force of habit and they started crying. Did I say the wrong thing?”

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition as to who Steve was before her face softened, tenderly laying a hand on the back of Michael’s hair and stroking it out of the way. “No,” she breathed. “No, you said the right thing. The perfect thing for them to hear. They ideologize you and always have. I guess seeing you here is...well, overwhelming. Michael, love, we got to let the Captain go.”

Slowly peeling away from him, the kid sniffles and rubs at their face, smearing the flag’s paint without realizing it. His face is flushed and eyes red, with tears still in them. He looks almost ashamed as he climbs from Steve’s lap to his mom’s. He could hear the murmurs of an apology.

“Hey now,” Steve breathed, fully sitting up now. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” He can’t help himself in tossing the guy’s hair and wiping away a stray tear. It makes the kid smile, at least. “You were just excited and overwhelmed, there’s a big crowd here today, huh? And I guess...me calling you son didn’t help did it? Just burst that bubble.” When the kid flushed, Steve just gave a helpless smile. “When my ma first called me Steve, I cried so hard I managed to throw myself into a panic attack.”

“I bet that did nothing to help the asthma,” the mother muses, giving Steve a fond smile. At Steve’s surprised look, she shrugs. “I might be a Brit, but I grew up on your story, Mr. Rogers. I’m Peggy, by the way. This is Michael.”

Steve shakes their hand and nods. “No, it didn’t. Managed to give myself a nose bleed too. It’s good to meet you two. Here, let’s get up before we’re trampled.” Getting the pair off of the ground, Steve brushes the grass stains off of their clothes out of habit. “I take it it’s your first pride?”

“For both of us,” Peggy muses, kissing her embarrassed son’s cheek. “Michael wanted to go to his first pride since coming out and I wasn’t going to tell him no. We’ve already been yelled at by them.” The tone alone tells Steve well enough who them is.

“Tell me about it. I’ve already gotten into two screaming matches before my friends had to drag me away.”

“That was you? Crickey, no wonder people looked nervous. Well, yes they’ve called me quite a few names already. Child abuser. Pedophile. Rapist. Disgusting, barbaric group.” She sets Michael down and hugs him close to her frame. “Even if this is a phase, I don’t care. I’m going to support and love my child regardless. They do not deserve to be ashamed of themselves.”

Steve’s eyes fall to Michael whose still staring up at him like he’s the moon and stars and it makes him both antsy and warms his heart. “I wish I had that line of thinking,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Not that I’m ashamed of who I am, anyone with the right knowledge can research about me, history can’t erase that forever, but...the backlash one could’ve received in my time...it leaves a mark on you.”

It was a struggle in his mentality. Steve supported, openly every LGBT organization, spoke out against protestors, and haters. Donated large, marginal amounts of money, but when it came to speaking about his struggle and making an ‘official’ public remark? That’s when he backed out.

“But Mr - Captain…” Michael sputtered, tugging on Steve’s shirt.

“Steve.”

“S-Steve.” He was still breathy from the crying spell but his excitement to get to call his obvious hero by his name was etched into his face. “There are lots and lots and lots of people who would be happy to know that you’re like us too! You might get people mad at you but then they weren’t fans of you in the first place if they don’t support your decision. I know lots of my friends would know and be happy to know that you’re a-a-a trans guy like me!”

Well, what in the hell could he say to that? He looked from the smart kid up to his mother who just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “He’s right, you know?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I do. I think you’re right, Michael, I shouldn’t hide who I am. Been asleep far too long and I think I got work to do to fix this mess.” He paused for a moment, reaching into his jeans to hand Peggy a business card [Tony’s idea] with a hologram of himself in his uniform and saluting, his name and personal number on the back.

“Call me tonight? I want to talk to you about this. I have to go.”

His eyes flew to something past the pair and Peggy’s neck craned to see over the crowd, clicking her tongue as she spotted what Steve had seen.

If it was just her, she’d help, but Michael was here and perhaps didn’t need to see his hero fighting a bunch of bigots. He was still quite sensitive to violence, the poor thing.

“Okay,” she agreed, scooping her son up and tucking his head into her neck. “You go do that.” She paused to kiss his cheek. “And be safe, please.”

That’s how, two days later, Steve finds himself standing in the very park Pride had taken place, on the portable stage with his team behind him. He still sported a black eye, almost healed but the remains of a yellow bruise were still there. His ribs ached from being kicked, but he was still standing. It was on the news for days how Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and Clint Barton ruthlessly attacked a bunch of peaceful protesters.

Peaceful, my ass.

They didn’t see the symbols they carried, the signs, the proud man who stood in front of them? Steve wasn’t standing in 2013 anymore, he was in 1943 and standing before a german officer, wearing the same grin on his face. He knew his choices, the power of his voice, and money, and knew them well. He also knew what the other side of Steve’s fist felt like against his jaw.

“They were Nazis,” he tells Tony over dinner, rolling his eyes. Peggy’s on speaker between them, having just gotten done lecturing him. “I don’t give two shits what the media says.”

“Language,” Peggy muses, though Steve can hear the smile in her voice. “I have a son.”

“Whose asleep,” Tony interjects. “Cursing is allowed when the kidlets are asleep.”

“Says you.”

Steve rolls his eyes at them and downs the rest of his beer. “Pepper is gonna smooth it out, anyhow. I’m not making some public statements on how sorry I am ‘cause I ain’t. Don’t show up to an event and not expect a backlash. They’re lucky that’s all we did was break a few bones. Maybe it’ll teach ‘em next time. Besides, they attacked us. We gave them clear enough warning not to touch us.”

They had formed a barricade, protect those Pride Idiots from charging inside while the cops did nothing. Even Tony had to call in a few suits and help, Pepper immediately on the scene with her trusted news crew.

“I ain’t worried about it,” He continues, shrugging.

“Spoken like a true American,” Peggy teases, making Steve flush. “So have you given any thought to our earlier conversation?”

Tony’s staring at him from across the way, Steve’s started to nervously play with the end of his binder. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, I have. I’ll call you with the details.”

Taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, Steve’s eyes scan the crowd. He knows there are a few of those Pride Boys out there, but he can’t make them out. He doesn’t care to. They wouldn’t dare to attack a stage when Captain America stands in full uniform and his team behind him. Pepper had brought out her news crew again, live broadcasting this emergency meeting, as well as a few other news sources.

She’s smiling at him from the side, giving him the thumbs up.

Steve’s eyes fall to Bucky whose gotten up with Clint and stood beside him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “About time you’re doing this, though you owe Dugan 50 quid for this,” Bucky teases, leaning up to just barely kiss Steve’s cheek in a public display of affection. “I’m proud of you.”

Clint’s beside them, towering over Bucky, holding the life out of Bucky’s flesh hand and pulling him close. His head tilts to the side and signs to Steve, asking if he’s ready.

Steve nods, his eyes finally falling to the two people who got this started. Peggy Carter and her son. Michael runs up to him from the side of the stage when they arrive, climbing onto Steve’s shoulders like he’s always belonged there. Steve can’t help the laugh he lets out as he grips Michael’s legs around his chest to keep him secure. Peggy, for her own sake, smiles as she stands beside Steve, Bucky moving over to let her get closer.

“Alright,” He sighs into the microphone, perhaps too close. “Let’s get this over with.” He pauses, counts his heartbeats, feeling them in his throat. “It goes without saying, who I am and whose in my company, but I think we need to make some personal facts clear in the light of recent news.”

He stills and takes in a sharp breath, eyes scanning the vast crowd before he feels Peggy’s hand on the small of her back.

“My name is Steve Rogers and I am a transgender guy.” There’s a mixture of stilled silence and gasp throughout the crowd, followed by intense murmurs. Yet no one raises their hand or shouts questions. Pepper has these guys whipped. Good.

“That might come as a surprise to some of you and regardless of your personal opinion, I do not care. Let me restate that, I do not care if you support me or don’t. I want one fact and one fact made clear, if you decide to attack me, my friends, or anyone for being who in the hell they are, no amount of legal fear and paperwork will stop me from doing what I think is right to rectify that situation.”

“I was thankful to have heavy support during my time serving, before, and after, and even waking up here. It was recently brought to my attention as to what me coming out officially could do for the young LGBT youth and I am only sorry it’s taken this long for me to realize it.”

“To be fair,” Peggy muses. “You’ve been a little busy.”

Steve laughs, unable to help himself. “A tad bit.” He squeezes her to his side and presses a small kiss to her temple. “Now,” he speaks into the microphone. “If anyone else is curious, I’m bisexual too. And in this recent news, my team and I have gotten together to design a program to help the LGBT youth seek the sanctuary they deserve. This means after school programs for all ages, cafes, safe bars, book stores, all opened 24/7 to offer them help. There are homeless shelters in place that will help the youth kicked out, programs we’re establishing to help with anything from name changes to hormones, to funds to get back on their feet. Counseling as well for any who wish to seek it. Adoptive parents who figuratively would want to ‘adopt’ and assist the youth.”

“Who’s paying for all this?! It sounds like -”

The reporter, someone in the midst of the crowd, that Steve can’t see is instantly shut up when Clint charges off the stage and heads in his direction and pulls the man up to his feet by the collar of his neck.

“Who in the hell do you think is?” He snaps. “I wish these programs were around when I was a kid, then maybe I wouldn’t had destroyed my body using makeshift binders that hurt me. These kids, adults, whatever will get the help they need. If you have a problem with it, then I suggest you shut the hell up.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Steve breathes, jerking his head at Bucky to go get his boyfriend. “In a better sense of words, I am. Now, any questions?”

There’s a hell of a lot of questions that go over Steve’s head.

When did your name change? What’s in your pants? Did you have surgery? Did you have bottom surgery? Is that kid yours? Are they paying you to say this?

There’s plenty of statements too, raging from support but more often protest and the second it gets rowdy, it’s put to a stop when Natasha and Tony are strolling around the crowd.

Bucky and Michael are right - this is a long time coming. The youth, the people of today deserved to know who Steve truly was. Not that he’s ever denied himself. They deserve to know that he would do anything to protect them, even if it involves a few legal cases of punching a Nazi here or there.

Michael was certainly right, the youth of today deserved to know who had their back, and how proud he was to come home one day and run straight into Steve’s arms while his mum was at work, to tell him how he stood up to his bully and made sure the substitute teacher called him by his real name and how he got to tell them that his new dad was Captain America.

#Steggy #Steggy Prompt #Nonny Prompt #Bisexual Peggy Carter #Bisexual Steve Rogers #Bisexual Bucky Barnes #Transguy Clint #Transguy Steve Rogers #Peggy's lil kid is trans too #tw transphobia #tw slurs #I hope this doesn't offend anyone somehow #despite being trans i tried to write this carefully too

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cassnottiel · 4 years

Note

hi! i Loved your teen Deke s5 au and now all i can think about is how Fitzsimmons would react to him getting shot (Because the show never gave us any and that makes me Sad)

Deke had dragged a chair out to the hallway outside Fitzs cell, and he was lounging in it.

"Take your feet off the glass." Fitz said with a roll of his eyes. "I don't like staring at the bottoms of your shoes."

"Then don't stare at the bottoms of my shoes." Deke said, like it was the most obvious solution. "It's that easy."

Fitz stood and walked over to the glass. "Aren't I supposed to be an authority figure?"

"Yeah, but I'm not a kid." Deke smiled up at his grandfather.

"Yes, you are." Fitz corrected. "You're seventeen, a child in the eyes of the law." He rapped his knuckles on the glass. "Off."

Deke made a show of rolling his eyes and sighing, but he swung his feet down so they were planted on the concrete floor. He must have moved his head too sharply in the process, because he started blinking rapidly, as if to clear his vision, and pressed his fingers on his left hand to his temple.

"I'm sorry." Fitz said quietly, remembering the exact way he swung the wrench at his own grandsons head.

Deke shook his head carefully and put a smile back on his face. "Don't, I'm fine." He checked the watch on his wrist, the one Fitz gave him. "I think I should get going, we're leaving soon."

"Are you sure you should be going on a mission?" Fitz asked worriedly.

Deke scoffed and smiled. "We're just going to get Robin and come back. No risk of injury beside tripping over things." Fitz finally let up and smiled back. "I'll be back in no time."

But Fitz was gone when he came back, and so was Simmons.

"Hi," Robins mother said to Deke, "I don't think we've met. I'm Polly." She held out her hand.

"Deke." He gave a small smile and shook her hand. "So," he turned back to look at Robin through the window of the conference room, "that's Robin."

"I suppose you've never met her before." Polly mused. "She must be a big deal at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No, I've met her." Deke said. "Just-- later."

Polly frowned. "How?"

"I'm from the future." He said plainly. "They accidentally brought me back with them."

Polly looked at Deke in surprise. "So, Robin was an adult when you met her?"

Deke nodded. "Yeah."

"How old are you?" She asked, finally taking time to look at him.

Deke smiled awkwardly. "I'm seventeen." When Polly opened her mouth to say something probably parental, Deke cut her off. "They thought I was their age for a week and by the time I told them, it was too late. I was already helping."

"Why are you coming on this mission?" Polly asked, sounding slightly horrified.

"My grandparents said I could." Deke just made Polly even more confused. "Fitz."

"I can . . ." Polly nodded numbly. "I can see that."

Suddenly, in the conference room with Robin, May stood up and ran out, holding one of the drawings. Deke followed, and Polly went to her daughter.

May didn't say anything, just held the drawing up for Daisy. Daisy took it, studied it, then looked up.

"Coulson."

"Yeah," May almost smiled, "she's seen him."

Daisy started walking to one of the holo-tables. "Let's start searching for landmarks that might match." She placed the paper color side down and it started scanning. Deke followed silently, doubting three crudely drawn mountains could lead them anywhere.

"It won't be easy, but that might be where he is." May said hopefully.

The picture had two figured in it, one had something black on his chest. Deke did not like the potential message behind that.

The computer beeped, and pictured a mountain range similar to the one from Robins drawing. Daisy smiled as the coordinates appeared under the range.

May ran to the pilots seat. "Re-routing now."

"Wait, we're going there right away?" Deke asked, following the women. "What about Robin and Polly?"

"It's sub-zero out there, Coulson could be in trouble." Daisy said. "We don't have time to go back to the Lighthouse."

Deke sighed. There's no fighting with both Daisy and May, especially on a topic like Coulsons safety. So he waited, and tried his best to help with the search.

After three hours of circling, Daisy slammed her fist on the table in front of her. "We're never going to find him! We've been searching the Trident Range for hours, and still no sign of Coulson and whoever he's with."

"Well," Deke tried to make his voice sound as helpful as possible as he picked up Robins picture, "what if this hasn't happened yet? Maybe it doesn't happen for another month, or year--"

"You're not helping." May snapped.

Daisy sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Maybe we should change tactics."

May turned to her. "What are you thinking?"

"The cloud cover's too thick to see through, anyway." Daisy looked out the pilots window. "We should land, canvass the area on foot, let Coulson find us."

May shook her head. "Hales hideout could be nearby. We'd be exposed."

"Give him a shot." Daisy said desperately. The two women had a silent conversation with their eyes for a few seconds.

May nodded. "If you think it's the right call."

"Davis," Daisy called up to the cockpit, "find a place for us to land."

As the plane was landing, Deke approached the acting director. "Hey, I can stay with Robin and Polly if you--"

"You're coming with." Daisy cut him off. She held out a gun. "You know how to use these, right?"

Deke nodded and took it numbly. "Are you sure I should be coming? I'm not even an agent."

"Deke." She grabbed him by his shoulders. "You will be fine. It's just a rescue."

He nodded. The cargo door lowered, and Daisy ran out, shortly followed by May and Deke. The search was slow, until they heard a familiar voice shouting.

"Run!" That was Coulson.

Deke followed May and they sprinted toward the source of the voice and subsequent footsteps.

Someone wearing a mask and wielding a chakram was about to throw their blade, but got thrown into a rock by Daisy quaking them.

"Take them back to the Zephyr." Daisy ordered, then turned to the current enemy. "I'll take care of her."

"Not a chance." May said.

"It's a rescue mission, look at them." Daisy pointed to Coulson and the other man, who Deke was helping up from the snow. May sighed, nodded, and started helping the men walk. "Deke, watch their backs." Daisy said, then turned back to the enemy.

"Who's the kid?" The slightly crazed man asked loudly as he stumbled, held up by Coulson and May.

"Deke Shaw, this is Glenn Talbot." Coulson said. "Glenn, that's Deke."

"Do you think Daisy needs help?" Deke glanced back at the sounds of a fight.

May and Coulson glanced at each other. "That kid cut Yo-Yos arms off." May said. "We'll meet you back at the Zephyr."

Deke nodded and started back to where they left Daisy. He held his gun ready, watching as a girl who couldn't be older than him fight Daisy, and then get quaked into a tree.

"What are you still doing here?" Daisy asked sternly when Deke emerged from the trees, gun pointed at the girl.

He started walking over to the unconscious girl, rolling his eyes. "I thought she had you for a sec--"

Rapid gunshots ripped through the air. Before he could look for the source, Deke felt a pain in shoulder and fell to the ground.

"Deke!" Daisy was next to him seconds later, hauling him up. "We gotta get out of here. Let's go." She slung his left arm over her shoulders and pressed her hand against the bullet wound.

Making it up the ramp into the cargo hold was Hell, and he fell to the metal floor as soon as they were at the top. Deke blearily made out Coulson running in to help, pressing his hand against the source of bleeding. Deke felt his own blood soaking through his shirt, pooling under him as he started up at the ceiling, kicking weakly. He'd always had a high pain tolerance, but at that moment, he could barely see, barely breathe without wanting to pass out.

But he didn't pass out. He couldn't. He told Fitz he would be fine.

"Hold him still." Coulsons voice sounded as if Deke was listening from under water.

"That's not a good sign." Deke said with what little voice he had left. Something sharp stabbed into his wound, and that's when it became too much. Deke screamed, tried to arch his back up and get away from whatever Coulson was doing to him, but Daisy was holding him down. He didn't listen to any of the words being said above him, he tried to focus on his breathing. Since that seemed to be the only thing left he could do, with his vision going white and blurry.

Somehow, he ended up sitting with a blanket wrapped around him and half his shirt cut off. He was shivering.

Daisy quietly approached and held out her hand. "Here, take these." Deke took the offered painkillers and water without saying anything. "We're landing soon." She leaned against one of the large crates. "That was reckless back there, Deke."

"Are you this kind to everyone who takes a bullet for you?" Deke didn't look at her. His voice was hoarse and scratchy.

"You were the reason we had to retreat." Daisy was having none of his forced humor.

"Well, I'm sorry." Deke sighed. "Next time I'll try to keep all of my blood inside my body."

"I had Hales daughter down for the count, we could have captured her." Daisy scolded.

"Yeah, she was down." Deke mustered as much of a glare he could before it turned into a grimace. "And I was trying to secure her weapon, like any other agent would."

"You're not an agent!" Daisy snapped.

"Oh, really? Then maybe you should stop ordering me around like I am one!" Something was at the back of Dekes throat, he coughed.

"What does it matter if you won't listen?" Daisy was raising her voice as Deke continued to cough. "I can't fight and protect you at the same time."

"You are the worst!" Deke matched her volume. "I was trying to give you backup, even though--" another coughing fit overtook his need to argue. He doubled over.

Daisy grabbed the water bottle she had set aside. "Here, have some water." When he didn't sit back up, she tried again. "Deke?"

The coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth as Deke kept coughing. He heard it splatter on the metal floor, and he couldn't keep himself in the seat anymore.

"Deke!" Daisy caught him and lowered him to the floor slowly. He didn't hear anything else, he passed out.

Deke woke up on a table, with something over his mouth, and someones hand in his chest. It was worse than whatever Coulson had done on the Zephyr, by a very, very long shot.

"We're trying to help you." A murky voice said near his uninjured shoulder. There were two sets of hands holding him down to the table he was on. Something pricked his arm, and his head fell back. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he was out again.

- - -

When Deke woke up again, it was more groggy than sudden, and he wasn't in nearly as much pain.

"Welcome back." Mack pulled the oxygen mask off Dekes face.

"You are on a lot of drugs." Piper said slowly, to make sure he understood. "But, hey, good news -- you didn't die."

"Thank you." Dekes voice quiet, surprised. He looked down at the bandages wrapped around his chest and brought one of his hands up to cover where the wound was. "You guys saved me." But something was missing, his foggy mind told him.

"We're just glad you pulled th--"

"Where's Jemma?" Deke cut Mack off, looking around in confusion. That's what was missing, Nana and Bobo. "Why didn't she fix me?" He sighed heavily. "Fitz is going to be so mad at me, I told him I wouldn't get hurt." His words were slurring together. There was no way he wasn't under the influence of some chemical.

"Hey, worry about yourself for a few minutes." Mack said. "You almost bled out."

Deke blinked a few times, staring up at the bright ceiling. "But where's Jemma?" He asked. "Shouldn't she be here?"

"Simmons is . . ." Piper glanced at Mack, ". . . out. She and Yo-Yo went out for a little bit."

Deke knew that couldn't be right, but he was too tired and on too many drugs to think. So instead he changed the subject. "Can you not tell Fitz I got shot?" His voice was quieter. "I don't want him to say 'I told you so.'"

"I don't think he'd say that." Mack and Piper looked nervously at each other.

"But he's kind of mean sometimes." Deke closed his eyes and struggled to open them again. "But I think he likes me, so that's a good thing."

The next time Deke woke up, he was alone. He sighed and stood up, making as little noise as possible out of habit. He found a shirt that wasn't covered in blood and cut to shreds, and a grey sweater that looked like it belonged to Fitz.

Fitz.

Fitz was going to be so mad. Deke walked as fast as he could to the elevator, hissing through his teeth the whole way.

"Deke?" Mack found him. "Why are you out of bed? You just got shot, you should be resting."

"Hey," Deke raised his hand to wave, but dropped it soon after, squeezing his eyes shut with a pained grunt. Coulson followed behind Mack and rushed to the teenagers side.

"If you're going to get up without taking the time to get better, at least put that arm in a sling." Mack muttered. "We're going to control, where you can sit down and rest for a little."

"No." Deke protested weakly. "I told Fitz I would go see him when I got back." Mack and Coulson exchanged a look. "What?"

"Fitz and Simmons are gone." Coulson said as softly as he could.

"They left with Yo-Yo right after you guys left." Mack explained, placing a hand on Dekes uninjured shoulder. "That's why Simmons didn't operate."

Deke nodded numbly and let the two men guide him to a chair in the control room and put his arm in a sling. He gave a small wave and a wince to Daisy and May when they were on the video call, and perked up when they mentioned Fitz-Simmons were at the location they were on their way to.

"Are they okay?" Deke asked, pushing himself up to stand and stumbling on his way to Coulsons side.

"Deke, go rest." Daisy said without answering the question.

"Everyone, stop telling me to do that!" He shrugged off Coulsons offered help and braced his good arm on the table in front of him. "Just tell me if my grandparents are okay."

Daisy sighed. "Hale says they are. We'll be back as soon as we can."

As soon as they could was hours. Deke had dozed off again and refused to go back to his quarters in case he missed something, so he was slumped over against an a table that wasn't being used. He was up at the slightest noise, and Coulson and Mack starting off down a hallway was anything but slight.

Deke followed as fast as he could and stopped in front of the door to the hanger.

First in was Daisy and May, then Yo-Yo, then Fitz and Simmons, hand in hand. As soon as the newly-weds saw Deke, they started walking faster. Deke ran to meet them.

The teenager threw his good arm around his grandparents in a hug, but pulled away almost immediately, swearing through his teeth. The Fitz and Simmons' relieved expressions fell and were replaced with concern in an instant.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"Who did this to you?"

Deke gave a tired, strained laugh. "Hale shot me, I'm fine now."

"How can you say that?!" Fitz exclaimed.

"Who fixed the wound?" Simmons blanched. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

Deke slowly started walking back into the base. "Mack and Piper operated."

"Operated?!" Fitz yelled, following quickly.

"You had to have surgery?!" Simmons yelled at the same time, not far behind.

"You told me there would be no risk of injuring yourself." Fitz sounded angry, but more with himself than anything.

"I, uh," Deke swallowed, "I tripped and fell on a bullet."

"You already told us you got shot." Jemma rubbed his good arm.

"Sorry." Deke tried to shrug. "They gave me really strong pain killers."

Jemmas eyes widened. "They're not qualified to prescribe drugs like that or perform any sort of surgery." She pointed to the elevator. "Come on, I'm checking the wound to make sure they fixed you right."

"I don't know, I think they did a pretty good job." Deke smiled and made eye contact with Mack, then said his next words just loud enough to be heard by the mechanic. "You know, considering I woke up in the middle of the surgery."

Macks eyes went wide, and the last thing he saw before the elevator closed was Deke, staring right into his eyes and wearing a smug smile, next to a horrified Leo Fitz and a furious Jemma Simmons.

God help him.

#deke shaw #leo fitz #jemma simmons #alphonso mack mackenzie #daisy johnson #agents of shield #high class writing #high class answers #agent piper #asks

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