Day 227: I Didn't Know Where Else to Go
Harry, for all intents and purposes, enjoyed his nice quiet life.
He loved his quiet, one-room cottage by the sea, with his garden in the back full of fresh vegetables and flowers, and his lovely hive of bees. He loved Mable, the scruffy mutt that had shown up on his doorstep, looking for food and then never left. No one in the village knew him as anything other than James Evans and it was the most peace he'd found in his life.
Harry absolutely did not miss being in the aurors. He didn't miss the press, the constant niggling anxiety that was present whenever he was in wizarding communities.
No, the quiet was enough.
It had been so quiet in his cottage for so long, that the pounding on his door one night in the middle of a wild storm made him summon his wand before he moved slowly to the door.
There was another round of a fist banging against the door before he finally blew out the nerves and yanked it open.
He wasn't prepared for the man who fell through the door, stumbling as though it had been holding him up.
"Draco?" he asked, catching him and bearing most of his weight as the other man slumped on his feet; cold, wet fingers clinging to Harry's shirt.
"Sorry," he whispered, silver eyes taking in Harry's face like he was noticing every new wrinkle, every last sun worn freckle. "I didn't know where else to go."
And then he promptly passed out.
Harry carried him over to the bed before locking the cottage door and warding it against whoever might be after Draco. Then he set to work, stripping the other man of his soaking wet clothes, finding numerous bloody gashes and deep red and purple bruises.
(Read more below the cut)
"Shit," he hissed, casting a series of diagnostic charms he'd learned both as an auror and as the former partner of the man in front of him, who held no real regard for his own life. He cast a series of spells to stabilize the other man's condition before going back to his bedroom and digging his case out from under his bed.
Harry spent the next hour and a half tending to wounds, using the spellbook he had, along with half a dozen potions before he was satisfied with Draco's diagnostics.
He managed to get Draco into a pair of loose pajama bottoms before pulling the blankets up over him and stoking the fire, adding a few more logs for good measure. Then he sat down in the armchair and let himself drift while he waited for Draco to wake up and explain himself.
Draco had always been a stubborn sod.
Honestly, he shouldn't have even been surprised that the other man hadn't woken up by the time Harry did the following morning.
He went about his business as usual, letting Mable out into the back garden to chase away any rabbits that might be contemplating his vegetables, before making a pot of coffee and starting in on the bread making he did every other day.
The morning went on as usual and Harry was just pulling the bread out of the oven when the spell he'd left over Draco to alert him to movement went off.
"Your stomach always did wake you up," Harry called softly, his voice carrying across the small space.
Draco groaned, rolling and wincing, "Harry?" he asked, eyes blinking open like it was difficult.
"Hey," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing Draco's hair back out of his face.
His eyes fixed on Harry, soft and warm and for a moment it was like they'd never left. Ten years of time and space disappeared as though they'd never existed in the first place.
"I shouldn't be here," he said, eyes clouding again. "Sorry, I've put you in danger-"
"Hey," he said, gently pressing him back against the mattress. "You're not going anywhere. You've suffered massive internal injuries, you need to rest and-"
"I need to go," he repeated, struggling to stand.
Harry touched his shoulder, "You're not going anywhere. You said last night that you didn't know where else to go."
"I was delirious."
"I'm aware," he replied. "But I ran diagnostics; you didn't have any tracers on you, there's been no abnormal magical activity within a 10 kilometer radius, my cottage is warded and it's unplottable. We're safe."
Draco sank back against the pillow for a moment, rubbing his face with his hands.
He took in the curve of his wrists, even narrower now than they'd been when they'd worked together. He'd lost weight, too, and Harry's gut churned uneasily. "You've been working too hard," he said softly.
"Someone had to," Draco snapped and Harry recoiled, standing and moving back to the bread he'd left sitting on the counter. "Sorry," Draco said, and even without looking at him, Harry knew he was shaking his head. "I didn't mean that."
"You did," Harry replied evenly as he spread butter and then honey on a warm slab of bread. "Do you still like honey in your tea?" he asked as he prepared a cup for himself.
"Yes," he murmured, defeated.
Harry returned a few minutes later, handing Draco a plate with bread and a cup of tea before sitting down in the armchair once more.
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I never have been good at keeping myself from antagonizing you."
"Yes, well," he said before sipping his tea, "Wouldn't feel right if you weren't, so," he let the rest of the sentence drop, shrugging a shoulder.
"What do you do here?" Draco asked.
He shrugged again, "I bake bread and I garden. I take my dog for walks on the beach. I tend my bees."
"And you're happy doing that?" he asked as though he couldn't quite believe it.
Harry hummed, "I stopped trying to atone a long time ago."
The other man didn't say anything to that, probably didn't want to start a fight, but that was okay. Harry didn't mind the silence. He'd actually grown rather accustomed to it.
"Don't you miss it?" Draco asked eventually, tearing the crust of his bread between his slender fingers.
"It or you?" Harry replied.
He shrugged, "either. Both."
"It, no," Harry said softly. Then he waited and Draco's eyes found his, "You? Everyday."
"Harry," he whispered, face crumpling.
He reached over and took Draco's hand in his, "I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't watch while you did everything in your power to get yourself killed. Every mission we took," he shook his head, "It's like you were looking for danger."
"Someone had to-"
"I couldn't anymore," he repeated.
Draco stared down at his hands clasped in his lap, "I know."
"Still hurt, though," Harry finished for him. "You were always welcome to come with me, you know."
"I wasn't ready."
He hummed, "And now?"
Draco shook his head, "It's too late now. You've built your whole life here, it's safe and quiet. I'd just bring all of the chaos and-"
"It's not too late," he interrupted. "I got bees, Draco," he said, "so I could make you tea and slather your toast in honey. I bought a cottage by the sea because you always said you wanted to live by the sea someday, the humid air was good for your complexion and all of that. I learned to bake bread because you love the smell of bread in the oven. I've carved out a place for you here," he added, feeling small and afraid in a way he hadn't in a long time. "I want you here."
He blinked at him, "You can't mean that."
"They're hunting me," he started. "The ministry-"
"They'll stop," Harry replied. "They stopped looking for me. They'll stop looking for you, too. Eventually."
He still looked uncertain, "You haven't seen me in a decade," he said. "And you just want me to stay here? You don't know anything about me anymore-"
"I'll learn." He brought Draco's knuckles to his lips, "I've never stopped loving you. You just have to let me."
Draco stared at him, tears in his eyes.
"Let it go," he murmured. "You've done enough. Just," he sighed, "Stay."
Harry'd never been so relieved in his life as the moment that Draco nodded and threw himself into Harry's arms. He hadn't ever fancied himself particularly gifted in Divination, but with Draco's body pressed against his, Harry knew that everything was going to turn out just fine.
This is very out of order. But it's the prompt that sparked a little bit of joy today.
Read my other ficlets here.
Space Mark where he breaks down about the Captain having a scar on their hand from where he ripped the crystal and getting a concussion from when he hit their head with the canister
"Woah. Sick scar, cap. Where’d you get that from?”
Mark felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat upon seeing the large scar etched into your palm. You had taken your glove off as the material was itching it, but even you were surprised at how big the scar turned out to be.
And how it left the imprint of the warp crystal.
Not realizing how clammy he looked, you just told Gunther, Burt, and Celci a made-up story of where you got it from, throwing out whatever bizarre details your beautiful brain could cook up in that moment. While the group of leads gasped and sat in awe at the tale, only one remained completely silent.
The only one who knew the truth, because he was the cause.
Memories of what he did at the warp core came back to haunt him once again, as he remembers how cold and cruel he was to you. He ripped the crystal out of your hand with a pair of pliers like it was nothing, assuming it was just on your glove.
How did he miss your winces of agony and shock?
How did he miss the blood that dropped on the floor?
How did he..not realize how much pain he caused you?
As if that wasn’t already a bad reminder, you suddenly lost focus on where you were in the story, looking dazed as you held your head and shut your eyes for a moment, rubbing a particular spot on your temple.
The spot where he struck you with the canister upon entering the warp core.
It left yet another crack in your helmet, sending you tumbling to the ground and rattling your skull. So even with that protection, it still managed to give you a-
“That concussion still not going away, cap?” Celci slid an ice pack over to you. “You’ve had it for a few days, haven’t you?”
“Yeah..thank you, CC. I..just wish I could remember where I left off.” You muttered as you held it against your head. “Ironic how a helmet’s supposed to prevent this. Guess I’ve taken quite a beating on this trip.”
Burt comforted you with something poetic about how “difficult journeys often yield the greatest rewards”, though Mark tuned that out, sitting there in numbing realization and guilt:
He gave you a goddamn concussion. He affected your ability to lead, make decisions, and hold simple conversations.
He nearly compromised your very duty as Captain.
And for what? Because he thought you were some monster who wanted to end all of existence?
No..he was the monster all along. The one who punished you for his wrongdoings.
What was a monster like him doing at this table?
“Hey, asshat.” Celci spoke up, nudging Mark’s arm in a playful way. He flinched and looked at her. “Some little birdie told me you and Cap are finally together. How did you manage that?”
“Yeah, what’s that about?” Gunther huffed as he leaned his elbows on the table. “You’ve been quiet.”
“Indeed,” Burt nodded. “We don’t mean to pry, but we can’t help but be curious. How has your love unfolded-?”
“E-Everyone...I...” Mark looked to you for a brief moment, his eyes flickering to the scar, before he abruptly got up. “I’ll tell you later....I..gotta take a walk.” Then he left the table without another word. He felt his throat tightening up, eyes burning with tears.
He couldn’t face anyone like this.
Especially not you.
Concerned, you set down the ice pack and followed him, leaving your other three crewmembers confused.
On the ground of the new planet, you arrived at your home. Knowing how often Mark visited, you only expected him to be here. A man like him was easy to predict...to a degree.
“Mark?” You called out as you entered through the automatic doors, wondering where he could possibly be. It wasn’t too big of a house, so it shouldn’t take long to find him.
However, you heard the sounds of sniffles and light sobbing coming from your bedroom. Your heart melted as you knew exactly what he was upset about, but you didn’t know it was taking this kind of toll on him.
Pushing the door open, you saw your lover curled up on the bed, face buried in his knees and his hands in his hair, crying his heart out. He assumed he was all alone until he felt the mattress shift weight, and he looked up to see you now sitting beside him.
With red, puffy eyes trailing to your scarred palm, he whimpered as he slowly reached a hand out. Then he paused, his eyes flickering back to yours as a silent request for permission.
You nodded and allowed him to take your hand, breaths still shaky as he lightly rubbed his thumb over the tissue, tears freely falling.
He regrets all of it.
The way he attacked you and screamed at you...god, he wanted to take it all back. He wouldn’t care if you did the same to him as payback. It would be much deserved after the hell he put you and everyone through.
Especially you, now that you have a permanent reminder of that.
Who does this to someone they love? Who fought across timelines to find him?
He pressed a kiss against your palm, only to shudder with sobs as he felt a thumb stroking his beard. Bringing your hand to the side of his face, you gently lifted his head up to meet your gaze. He looked so broken. “C-Cap..I..”
Yet all he could do was collapse against you and sob into your shoulder as you brought him into a hug. He tried closing the distance between you two as much as possible. His chest trembled, struggling not to hyperventilate at the crushing reality of what he did to you.
"O-Oh god, I didn’t m-mean...I...god, what have I done..!!”
“Mark, breathe..just breathe.” You ran a hand through his black hair, hushing him and rocking him slightly. “I know you didn’t mean to. You were angry. There were misunderstandings. It’s alright now. I’m gonna be okay. This scar will go away..and my concussion will, too."
“How can..y-you be okay with me making mistake..a-after mistake..after goddamn mistake?! You..should’ve told them what happened.”
“Why would I ever wanna do that?”
“..th-they already hate me. Might as well give them something else to hate..l-like how I attacked their captain.”
“Wha..Mark.” You pulled away slightly with a frown, tucking a fringe of his hair behind his ear. “Nobody hates you-”
“Bullshit. You heard e-everything they said! I’m stupid, incompetent, a-annoying...hell, every alien we met called me ugly, remember?” He forced out a laugh, sniffling as he bowed his head. “I-I’m just as ugly inside as I am outside-”
“Stop it.” You cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look at you. “You’re not ugly or stupid. Not to me.” Gently, you thumbed away the tears that slipped down his cheeks.
“But I-I was stupid enough to give you that scar and hit you with an extinguisher..”
“We all make dumb decisions from time to time.”
"Those..w-were the worst ones I ever made. I thought..y-you’d hate me after seeing that scar. The face you made when you saw it, and the way you looked at me after that...I-I just...I thought...”
“I was shocked, yes. But I’m not angry about it.”
“You’re not? Not even a little?” His eyebrows slightly furrowed with confusion. “B-But..it’ll remind you of how much I hurt you-”
“That’s not how I wanna remember it. If anything..I want it to remind me of how much I love you. Of how many timelines I went through just to find you..and how we fixed this together.” You softly smiled. “You’re a good man, Mark. And I love you so, so much. I don’t want you to ever doubt that, okay? Mistakes can be made, be it one or a million. I don’t care. No amount of them can ever make me hate you.”
The engineer’s shaky breaths slowly calmed down as he smiled in return, putting a hand over your own. No words could express how grateful he was to have you in his life. To have someone who never gave up on him even after you were blamed for all of his mistakes.
“Th-Thank you, ca--[y/n]...god, I love you, too.”
You nodded, pulling him into a tender kiss, feeling the salt from his tears. But at least they stopped falling at last. It broke your heart to see him retreat here just to cry alone, fearing that he ruined things between you both.
Yet nothing was ruined. Not one bit. If anything, this made your bond the strongest it’s ever been.
After sharing the kiss, both of you were breathless but happy. Smiles remained on your faces as you kicked off the boots, laying down on the bed and holding one another closely. Mark sighed as he nuzzled your chest, exhausted from his emotional meltdown yet relieved to still be in your arms.
He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else in the universe but here.
mammon | lucifer hurting you in the heat of the moment scenarios
originally written on: 19/01/20
“Well, if you love him so much then why don’t you just leave me?!” he yells at the top of his lungs. It’s the first time you’ve seen Mammon so angry and it’s honestly rather terrifying. You’ve known for a long time how clingy and needy he can be and you love that about him—so much—but it’s never gotten to this extent before.
“I told you, I don’t love Solomon!” you try your best to reply in a stern tone but the tremble in your voice is nearly entirely out of your control. He’s not the tallest of the brothers but for the first time, it feels as if he’s absolutely towering over you as his eyes burn holes into your face. “I was just having lunch with him, Mammon. It wasn’t a date.”
You feel your teeth began to chatter as the shaking in your hands spreads all over your body. It’s not out of fear—not entirely—but sadness, too. It’s just a fight, a lover’s quarrel, however, the ache in your chest seems to suggest something even worse than just that. The hand wrapped around your wrist suggests it, too.
“D-don’t lie!” Mammon growls, his hand tightening around your arm as you feel your fingers start to go numb. You try to pry it out of his grip but a bright light flashes and before you know it, his appearance has changed and so has his strength. “If you don’t wanna be with me then say it to my face!”
Swallowing thickly, you feel warm tears begin to stream down your cheeks. His hold is ridiculously strong and impossible to break out of. You feel your racing heart jump around in your chest as pitiful sobs slip past your lips.
“It hurts, p-please, Mammon,” you gasp, “it really hurts.”
The same light flashes throughout your room once more as he lets go of your wrist as if it were scalding hot. Taking a few steps back, Mammon gaps at you with widened, teary eyes, his hands shaking in front of him. His eyes dart between them and you as if trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened.
“(Y/N), I—” the Demon falls to his knees, feeling his legs give out underneath him, his trembling hands grabbing the hem of your shirt, “I’m… I’m so s-sorry.” He starts to cry, even more so when he feels your fingers brush through his hair.
He’d hurt you, hadn’t he? Why, then, are you still so kind to him?
You start to pull away and it’s then he feels raw panic course through his veins. No, no, no—
“No! (Y/N), I’m sorry! Don’t… please don’t… go,” he pleads, feeling the most pathetic he’s ever felt in a hundred years. But he’d much rather lose his pride than lose you.
“Shhh,” you whisper, prying his hands off your shirt before you kneel down in front of him, “I’m not going anywhere.” Mammon flings his arms around your neck, pressing his face into your chest as he continues to sob, the guilt continuing to weigh down heavily on his shoulders.
“Just take a break!” you plead, refusing to let go of his arm. “Half an hour is all I ask for! We haven’t spent time together in ages!” He doesn’t respond and does not try to hide the annoyance on his face either.
“I already told you, I’m busy,” Lucifer snaps, “I’ll have time for you later. Please, leave me alone for now.” His words slowly transform into a low growl near the end of his sentence when it becomes increasingly clear to him that you aren’t going to give in. He feels a familiar burning sensation in his chest that only flares up when you open your mouth to speak once again.
What you want to say isn’t spoke, though, since the back of his hand collides with the side of your face before he can stop himself. The terror of his own actions haunting him from the moment he feels the sting on his skin. You let go of his arm instantly, both your hands darting up to cup at the pain in your face. For a while, your head remains bowed, shielding your expression from Lucifer who’s frozen in place.
He hadn’t meant to do it, he swears. All he wanted to do was wring his wrist out of your hand. However, he knows he can’t say it that way, he can’t make excuses for an inexcusable action. Lucifer wants to leave, to remove himself from the situation for both of you to cool down, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to leave you behind, not when he’s hurt you.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper, your head finally rising so that your teary eyes meet his. You give him a faint smile in spite of the reddening patch poorly hidden underneath your hand. “I was being too needy, huh?”
Wait. No. Why are you apologising? It’s his fault. No. Please. Stop—
Yet again, Lucifer’s body moves on its own but this time, much to his relief, he simply pulls you into a hug. As gently as he can, the eldest Demon brother holds your head to his chest.
“No, (Y/N),” he says in the softest tone you’ve ever heard coming from his mouth, “you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. What I did was terrible. I will accept any punishment you have for me… but…” Lucifer kisses the top of your head, “please… will you consider giving me another chance?”
Slowly, you nod, and while it provides him with immense relief, he understands that he still has a long way to go in fully redeeming himself in your eyes.
Union Between Gods - Morax x Archon Reader
Ah, I'll write something not part of my Ex-archon Reader! thoughts one day but that day is not today. There's kind of a Part 1 but this still can be read as a standalone.
Spoilers! for Zhongli's backstory and Liyue's history.
Content? Mostly fluff, tiny angst. Format? Headcanons/imagines. Pronouns? You/Your
Summary: What being married to Morax is like
- - -
Shortly after your wedding, Morax constructs a special Statue of Seven in the waters of Liyue Harbor's northern wharf. It depicts him on his throne of stone with you elegantly perched on his lap. He does this as a gift for you, another reminder that he is indeed yours.
In private, Morax will always have physical contact with you. A hand on your thigh. Arms pulling you in an embrace. Leg brushing against yours. He needs your touch like he needs air to breathe.
Neither of you need to sleep, but that doesn’t stop him from making a nest from the finest silks in all of Teyvat. He will place your head against his chest, your hands threading through his dark hair, and pull you impossibly close.
A deep purr-like hum will rise from his chest when you trace the geo markings on his body. His breath hitches at each kiss you place where the lines intersect. He loves touching you but he also loves you touching him.
Morax prefers to be in his half-dragon half-human form around the house. His tail will teasingly swipe at your body, light brushes that catch your attention and leave you seeking more. Sometimes he trips you, just to catch you in his arms with a teasing smirk. "Careful, my dear."
Adepti horns are extremely sensitive. The slightest knocks during battle will send a searing pain to h head. You are the only one he trusts to care for them. Allowing you to wrap it with soothing herbs, he leans into your caring touch.
Morax strips himself of the title The Warrior God when walks the streets of Liyue as Rex Lapis. However, old habits die hard. He refuses to be seen as soft by his people, only having an arm around your waist or your arm wrapped around his in public. Even his gaze is kept stern, never letting his adoration slip into it.
When the two of you change into mortal forms, he remains too prideful to indulge in the 'sillier' aspects of human life. Like dancing. He would rather be trapped in the depths of the sea than be caught dancing by his fellow adepti. So, he watches from the sidelines as you spin from man to man, a radiant image among his people. Though, he has to actively ignore the urge to slap their hands off of you.
You are Morax's greatest treasure and just like any dragon, he is incredibly possessive of you. He can't show it as much as he wants, but make no mistake, his jealousy runs as deep as the Chasm.
His fingers twitch seeing the immense devotion of your three main followers. If only he could show you his. He can't help but glare listening to you enthusiastically speak of the Twilight Sword and Gold. They are only human, why must you spend so much time with them? He doesn't hold back as he throws another boulder at his fellow archon and friend. That damn bard, composing another flirtatious ballad about you.
To quell his possessiveness, he tucks his face into the side of your neck. The way your pulse quickens as his breath fans over your skin reminds him you are his. When your body tenses, waiting, wondering if there will be more, he feels relief in knowing only he makes you feel such a way.
Morax will go months without once being graced by your presence because you are so busy. He becomes easily agitated, falling back into his old, harsher, ways. It is only your lingering scent of mist at dusk that keeps him semi-tamed.
Arguments between the two of you are few and far between. Both of you have lived far too long to shout over disagreements. Morax may get worked up over certain topics - mainly your safety - but you remain calm and bring him back down.
Whenever you and Morax visit Dihua Marsh, it is him who sings to the glaze lilies. But on the days his timber voice cracks with grief, you find it in yourself to continue in his stead. The melody Guizhong once sung seeps into your lone harmony. Such a sound produces, in his opinion, the flower's fullest bloom.
On days you wish to touch the sky, Morax changes into his dragon form and allows you to ride him. He flies through clouds just to hear your giggles at the precipitation hitting your skin. He twists, turns, and twirls to make the experience fun for you. When he's in a good mood, he'll agree to race Venti and Dvalin.
Morax creates many gifts for you from the most precious materials the ground has to offer. A cor lapis headpiece that mimics his draconic horns. Several sets of jade jewelry to match your various outfits. A claymore with a blade made of the strongest smaragdus jadeite. Perhaps most valuable of all, a pair of rings forged from the finest ores and set with the oldest Archaic Stone.
Morax can be coarse and rough around the edges but you smooth him out. You make him a better god in every way possible. He trusts you, loves you, as you do him. If only your relationship was made to last...
- - -
Published: 16 May 2022
you scared me
bakugo is a big idiot and gets hurt. wc: 2.1k
cw: blood, injuries.
Bakugo Katsuki pulled himself to consciousness slowly, scrunching up his face at the sound of the periodic beeping that reverberated through his skull. He thought he could will it away with his mind, adept as he was at pushing things away, at silencing them-- he held his breath for one, two, three seconds-- forcefully exhaling when the sound met his ears again. No such luck.
He cracked an eye open hesitantly, taking in his surroundings. This was certainly not his bed, nor his house. He turned his head to the right, the sight of the IV bags hanging off of their metal support pole jarring him awake a bit. He looked down at his arm--sure enough, he was tethered to the bags by a thin needle under his skin. He let his head roll to the right, eyes grazing over the sterile hospital room he found himself in, until they landed on you.
You, in his too-big-for-you old hoodie that he'd begged you to let him replace for one that was newer and less hole-filled. In your sleep shorts that you've had since your time at UA, that hung off you then, and cling to you now. Curled up uncomfortably in a chair next to him, your head resting against the armrest. His eyes drifted up to your face, and he felt his heart squeeze at the little pout you wore in your sleep, eyebrows furrowed--he wondered what you were dreaming about.
He instinctively reached out a hand to brush his fingertips against the worry between your brows, letting out a hiss at the pain that radiated through his palm and up his arm. He looked down, and was startled to find bandages covering his palm, and a splint holding his arm straight. He attempted to wiggle his fingers under the bandage and was met with the same burning pain. "That's not good," he muttered to himself, turning his hand over and back again to inspect the wrappings around it.
"You fucking idiot."
He jumped, head snapping back to you, now very much awake and glaring at him. You were standing now, just a step in front of the chair you were sleeping in and maybe two feet away from him. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides, eyes full of what he deciphered as mostly anger and a little bit of something else. His eyes widened slightly at the rage that radiated off of you, smacking into him as forcefully as if you'd shoved him. Where you were usually soft, you were now taunt, the anger pulled back like a steel wire, ready to snap at the slightest inclination. He considered his next words carefully.
"Hi, baby," he croaked out, hoping it sounded less pathetic to your ears than it did to his. He watched your fists tighten, your knuckles straining and turning white, and he thought that maybe it was a good thing he was already in the hospital.
"Don't. Don't," you ground through your teeth. But you took a step toward him anyway, unable to tolerate the two too many feet between you any longer. You reached out a hand to grip onto the railing of his bed, both to steady you and to ensure you didn't throttle him, the plastic groaning under the force of your grasp. The object of your fury never took his eyes of you, his usual expression of indifference replaced by a softer one reserved only for you.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was fucking working when you called and then I listened to your message and almost took out a family of four trying to rush here as fast as I could," you took a breath, and he winced at how it broke, "and they wouldn't let me see you. I caused a scene in front of everyone in the lobby because I was sure it was going to be the last time I saw you and they wouldn't let me-"
The brush of the fingers of his uninjured hand over the knuckles still gripping the bed railing cut you off. You squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to look at him and unwilling to let him see the tears that burned behind your eyelids, tipping your head back and letting out a shaky exhale. His fingers drifted up to your wrist, wrapping around it with caution, gently prying your hand from the railing. You let him, feeling his fingers weave through yours and failing to fight back the whimper as he squeezed.
Your words tumbled through his mind as he pieced together the events of the day. He had been working with another agency to apprehend an unknown villain that had been terrorizing civilians in a nearby apartment complex. His motive had been unknown, but that was irrelevant to Bakugo, who had chosen to rely on the element of surprise to get the upper hand against the assailant. It would've worked, too, had the villain's quirk not been one that manipulated glass--the window he crashed through was quickly weaponized against him as he felt the shards pierce through his skin at every angle.
He'd managed to knock the villain out with a blast, but not before a shard of glass had impaled his palm. Luckily, the damage had been lessened by his gloves, but it was still significant. He remembered the ache in his body as he slid to the floor, wincing as he heard a quiet sloshing noise as he made contact with the puddle of blood he'd evidently created beneath him. He was unsure of the damage, but guessed it was pretty severe, if that puddle was any indication of the extent of his injuries. With his usable hand, he pulled his cell phone from the waist pocket of his suit, eyes softening at the picture of you he'd saved as his lock screen.
It was his favorite picture of you. It was a rare off day for both of you, and you'd decided that it was as good of a day as any to pack up a picnic and head outside. Neither one of you had bothered to look at the forecast, though, and within an hour you were caught in a downpour. You'd ran underneath the cover of a tree, and Bakugo had worried that it had ruined the day for you. He was surprised when he heard the cackle that escaped you, a laugh of his own bubbling from his throat when he looked to you and found you doubled over, body shaking from how hard you were laughing, going on about how you'd never thought you'd see his hair look so flat. He snorted, incredulous, and whipped out his phone to take a picture, to show you just how charming you looked.
You'd raised both hands up at him, lunging to grab the phone out of his hands, when he took the picture. You groaned every time you saw the picture, whining at him to change it to something else, but he never would. He told you somebody needed to keep you humble, but the truth was that he had never seen you look so beautiful. You were wild in the picture and wild in his heart-- the only person to ever take hold of him in both hands and refuse, despite all of his warnings, to let him go. There was a boldness in you that called to his own. You frightened him and he could not get enough of it.
He'd opened your messages and pressed the call button, mostly relying off of muscle memory as his vision began to fade. He waited as the phone rang, cursing under his breath when he heard the familiar tone of your voicemail. "Hi, angel," he whispered hoarsely after the tone, "I, uh, might've fucked up a bit--" he pulled the phone away from his face, coughing harshly and spitting, not bothering to look at the red he knew would be there, "I love you. And I'm sorry." He hung up, and had the thought to send you his location, so you could know whereabout the nearest hospital was, shooting down the next thought that told him if they find you in time. He let the phone slip out of his hands and tilted his head back, letting out a pained breath. It wasn't long before his world went black.
Evidently someone had found him, though, and he sighed as he felt the pressure of your fingers squeezing back at his own. "Baby," he whispered to you softly, mouth snapping shut at the return of your piercing glare.
"Don't say shit to me right now, Katsuki," you told him, and he couldn't help the way his heart fluttered at the way you said his name, not bothering with the formality you knew would bother him, even if you were upset with him. Always considerate, even when he was not. You squeezed your eyes shut again, pulling in a breath to steel your resolve that was quickly rumbling at the way his thumb traced circles into the side of your hand. You dropped your head, not ready to look at him.
"I know that you have worked hard, and that you are wholly capable of things that are unimaginable to most other people," you ground out, gritting your teeth, "but you are still human. And I don't know what exactly you think you still have left to prove but you need to find a better way because my heart can't take this," your free hand dragged over your chest, still feeling the ache. You felt tears slip out under your lash line, and quickly brushed them away with the back of your hand. Eyes still squeezed shut, you felt yourself be pulled forward, hips tapping against the bed railing as Katsuki's hand made its way up your arm. You felt his fingers at your jaw line, and you let him pull your chin up, opening your eyes to look at him.
His gaze held nothing but worry as his fingers reached up to wrap around the back of your head, pulling you forward until your forehead met his. "I'm sorry," he whispered, nose nudging your own, "I'm so sorry."
The wounded noise you let out broke something in him, and his hand dropped down to fight with the bed railing, trying to push it down to close the distance between you. "Fuckin'-- thing," he spat out, annoyance bleeding into relief at the laugh you coughed out, reaching down to help him pull it down.
"C'mere," he whispered, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you toward him. He shuffled over to make room, grunting at the strain as you whisper-yelled at him to be careful. You sat down on the bed next to him and laid down gently, his arm slotting under your shoulders and pulling you until you were curled into his side. Your head came to rest on his chest and you turned into him, needing to be closer, needing to breathe him in and know that he was intact and alive in this bed. He pressed soft kisses to your hairline.
"I'm sorry," he murmured against your skin, "that was really dumb. I'll be better. I love you," he dropped another kiss to your forehead and pulled you closer still, reveling in the feeling of the palm of your hand rubbing circles into the skin below his collarbone. It was something you would do often when he would escalate, your way of grounding him, tethering him back to earth--to you. This time, though, he knew it was for you. He heard you sniff and felt you pull him closer, and couldn't fight the way his lips turned up a bit.
"You scared me," you whispered, barely audible against the fabric of the hospital gown.
"I know," he breathed against your hair, fingers coming up to hold the back of your head, "I'm an idiot. I love you."
His grin widened at the way you snorted at that. It had taken a long time for Katsuki to be able to admit when he was wrong, and even now, he felt some part of his subconscious grabbing at anything it could to shift the blame elsewhere, to shrink under the weight of accountability. When he met you, he told you as much-- let loose all of his venom and anger and waited for you to inevitably spin on your heels and run from him. But you stayed, a grin playing on your lips and an eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to tire himself out. You threw him over your shoulder, kicking and screaming, and hadn't let him down since. He found he quite liked it up there after all.
"I love you," you told him, fingers curling in his gown.
Thank god, he thought. Thank god you do.
Psst. You after some of that real good Tio Bruno shit? Laced with a bit of angst? I gotchu.
I basically got in from work, dropped my stuff, and wrote this start to finish. Hope you enjoy, other fics are here, and all that jazz. 💚
There are many, many photographs in la Casa Madrigal. Fifty years of special occasions; fifty years of ‘We need a picture!’ Fifty years of poses, practiced and perfected until they come as easily as breath. Each picture, in their matching frames and their carefully chosen positions throughout the house, is a portrait of a family that only existed in certain angles, in certain lights. There is one photograph, however – tucked away in a drawer deep inside the bowels of the house, away from water damage and the destructive habits of rats, kept safely between the pages of a heavy novel to stop the edges curling – that tells a very different story.
It was official: Bruno was an awful person.
He was having a…let’s say a weird day. A weird week. Alright, fine; a weird month. His head was all fuzzy, his temper was short no matter how many cups of coffee or heaped spoonfuls of arequipe he tried to drown it in, he woke up every morning with barely enough strength to lift his head after having another night of sleep visions. Nothing had caused it; so far as he was aware. He just had low moods, sometimes. But four weeks was a long time for him. He was getting annoyed with it, now; which made his mood even worse. Definitely not the day to ask for a vision.
He’d barely been listening when Gustavo Torres had been talking his ear off with his request. Something something wedding anniversary, something something perfect gift, blah blah blah. Bruno had suggested they make an appointment the next day, when he was (hopefully) a little fresher. Gustavo had insisted he come up to La Casita then and there. Bruno had told him today wasn’t an option. Gustavo had muttered something about how he couldn’t expect Bruno to understand how important anniversaries were anyway.
And Bruno might have said if Gustavo had to come to Bruno ‘perpetually single’ Madrigal for marriage advice that made him un marido de mierda and maybe Gustavo would be better off putting his mouth to work between Francisca’s legs than bothering Bruno with it.
And Mamá might have heard.
So now, Bruno had been sent back to the house to ‘cool off’. He was thirty-nine years old, and he’d just been grounded.
He kinda deserved it though, didn’t he? Wasn’t exactly like he was the innocent party, here. Loco Bruno Madrigal, snapping at some poor cabrón again. He knew what the town thought of him. And it wasn’t like it was all a lie, either. He knew he had a temper. And that he was weird. And he said things he shouldn’t say. And he wasn’t sure if he just couldn’t be better – just wasn’t up to being the person the Encanto expected him to be – or if he just didn’t want to put in the work. Maybe he was just broken like that.
He’d thrown himself into a seat at the breakfast table while his coffee brewed; maybe this one would be the magic cup that banished this dark cloud over his head. Which was how he could hear his sister and cuñado coming up the main path, trying to console a sobbing Mirabel. Bruno’s heart did a sharp little twist; he hated kids crying, especially when it was one of ‘his’ kids.
Julieta and Agustín rounded the corner of the house into the garden; Juli holding Mirabel in her arms, Gus making a beeline for the still-gently-steaming pot of coffee. He made meaningful eye contact, and Bruno waved a hand. Knock yourself out.
“Hey, kiddo,” Bruno said, abandoning his own cup to walk up to his sister and sobrina, “Whassamatter?”
“Tiiiooo Bruuuunoooo,” Mirabel keened, holding out her arms for Bruno to carry her, “I’s broked!”
“Broked? Nah, that can’t be right.” Bruno hefted her weight into a comfortable position, feeling her wet little face nuzzle into his neck. She was getting heavy, but Bruno wasn’t quite prepared to stop carrying her just yet. “Not my favourite lil’ muchacha…”
He made a quizzical face at Julieta, who sighed as she deflated into a chair. “We went for a visit to the doctors’ today, Tio Bruno.”
“For her eyes,” Agustín mouthed, tapping his glasses. Ah. Mirabel had been bumping into things recently, not recognising people if they were more than a few steps away. Agustín had had a suspicion she was nearsighted, like he was, and they’d been talking about getting her seen by a professional. Bruno guessed it hadn’t gone well. He rubbed Mirabel’s back as she cried. “S’alright, kiddo,” he murmured absently. “I’ve got you.”
“So Mirabel needs to go back to see Señor Solano in a few days to pick out some glasses,” Julieta explained, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from her husband. “And I’ve promised her they don’t hurt, and she’ll be able to see much, much better.”
Mirabel wasn’t crying quite so hard now; but she was still making sad, snuffly noises into Bruno’s hair. “I’s broked,” she said again, little more than a whisper. “My eyes are broked.”
Ay Dios mio. If that didn’t just shatter Bruno’s heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Juli pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to start crying herself. “She’s been like this all morning,” she sighed, Agustín wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pressing a kiss into her hair. “She just keeps saying she’s broken, she’s broken.”
“And she was asking Señor Solano why her sisters don’t need glasses,” Agustín said, sitting down with his own cup of coffee. “How do you explain that to a four-year-old?”
Bruno squeezed Mirabel closer, as tight as he dared. Poor kiddo. This was not a familia that embraced the different very easily. He should know. Then, an idea came to him.
“Hey, mi vida,” he said, extracting her from her spot burrowed into his neck. She looked at him with bleary, tear-filled eyes. “D’you know your Tio Bruno’s eyes go funny sometimes, too?”
Mirabel scrunched up her face, thinking hard. “Mmmmmmaaaaybe, I thiiiinnnk…”
“Okay, s-so you don’t remember. Hold on.” Bruno plopped her down on the table and making for the house – for his tower. “Be right back.”
“Bruno…” Julieta began warily, as her brother zoomed past her with a bucket and a look of determination. He waved her off, pouring a rough circle of sand on the ground a safe distance from the breakfast table. Half as much as usual, so Mirabel could still see him without being inside the circle with him.
“Nah nah nah, Juli; I got this.”
Just a quick vision. Nothing too much, don’t scare her. Grab at one thread, one picture, and stop. You can do that, can’t you Brunito? You can do something right.
Bruno lit his little fires, took a deep breath, and began to focus on calling forth a vision; feeling that fast-spreading ache that meant his eyes were beginning to glow. Only seconds later, as the sand fell around him and a green tablet tumbled into his hand, he beamed up at his sobrina, still sitting on the table, staring at him. Off to one side of his vision was a green smudge, like an aura. His eyes burned; it felt like he’d been looking into the sun for too long. Stopping a vision after only just beginning was a weird, weird feeling. But it’d be worth it, if this worked.
“So, “ he said, waggling the tablet at Mirabel, “your Mamá is gonna make us enyucado for after dinner, tonight.”
Mirabel gasped, turning to look at Julieta. “Really, Mamá?!”
Julieta sighed, rolling her eyes fondly. “I was thinking about it. As a surprise.”
Bruno brushed the sand from his ruana and walked back over to Mirabel, hefting her onto his hip. “You see how my eyes glowed, muchacha?”
“Mm-hmm,” Mirabel nodded. “They went all; wooooo –”
She widened her eyes and stared off into the middle distance, expressionless. Did he really look like that? No wonder people were freaked out by him.
“But, hey,” Bruno asked, tapping Mirabel on the nose, “do you love your Tio Bruno any less?”
She didn’t even think about it. “No.”
“Do you think your Tio Bruno is broken?” he asked, cuddling her close, hiding the wince of pain when Mirabel’s forehead connected with his temple.
“Is your Tio Bruno still your favourite tio eeeveeerr?” Bruno asked, covering her cheeks with kisses.
“Noooo Tio Bruno, stooooopiittt…”
Bruno jostled her in his arms, suddenly serious as the grave. “Hey. Y-y’meant to say yes, kiddo.”
“Oh. Then yes.”
“So if I’m not broken, you’re not broken. Not ever. A-and if anyone says anything else, we’ll fight ‘em. Together. ‘kay?”
Bruno squeezed her in one last, tight hug, then set her down. “You gonna go bully that primo of yours for a while?”
“Off you go then, kiddo.”
Mirabel ran full pelt towards the house; her father dashing off after her. “Miraboo be careful don’t trip on anything --!”
Bruno sunk back into his chair, grasping for his coffee cup, eyes pinched shut, allowing the mask to slip for a moment. Caffeine. Caffeine would make the pain go away. Notorious for helping with eye strain, was caffeine. As he sipped, he cracked one eye open to see Juli looking at him from across the table, deep in thought.
“I wish you’d take your own advice sometimes, Brunito.”
“Whassat supposed to mean?”
“Go on; go show him.”
Bruno smiled at the sound of the rapid-fire stamp of his sobrina’s feet on the tiles heading his way. “Who could that be?” he wondered aloud. “A herd of rabid capybaras?”
“Noooo,” Mirabel said, throwing herself into the red, high-backed chair Bruno was lounging in, tucked just off to the side of the main hall. “It’s just meee!”
“Oh, it’s you. That’s good. A-and who are you, again?”
“I’m Mirabel!” the little girl giggled. “You’re being silly, Tio Bruno.”
Bruno smacked his forehead. “Oh yeah. Yeah, I-I remember.”
“Lookit, Tio Bruno! Lookit my glasses!”
Bruno pulled back to get a better look. She looked complete, somehow. Like she’d always been wearing glasses. He’d barely noticed them before – but, then again, she had just flung herself into his lap. Those sweet, familiar brown eyes blinked back at him, enlarged very slightly by the lenses. The frames were thin, round, made of wire and painted –
“Green!” Mirabel chirped. “I gots green glasses, Tio – ‘coz my eyes are like your eyes, and we’re not broked together!”
Bruno’s eyes started stinging again, but it was nothing to do with a vision. “Th-that’s great, kiddo,” he said, his voice thick. “They’re great, really suit you. Ah-hmmh.”
“Nothing, nothing. Frog in my throat.”
Julieta followed her daughter into the cubbyhole where Bruno’s red chair sat. “Abuela wants a picture of Mirabel in her new glasses for the wall,” she said. Bruno raised one eyebrow.
“You’re allowed to have the camera?”
Julieta rolled her eyes. “No. Of course not. Agustín is going to take the picture.”
Behind her, Agustín almost took out a rung of the banister, a plantpot, and himself with the tripod.
“But I thought you and Mirabel might like to take a photograph together first.”
“Yeah, why not? C’mon, kiddo. Let’s make it a good one.” Bruno lunged for the camera, wrestling it away from a protesting Agustín, and pressed it close to his and Mirabel’s faces.
“Ready? One, two, three…”
The flash temporarily blinded them both. But Juileta brought them both some leftover enyucado, which they ate together, sitting in the high-backed chair. On the arm of the chair, slowly developing, was an extreme close-up of Bruno and Mirabel’s faces, smushed together and grinning; One pair of green eyes, flecked with hazel and slightly manic, and one pair of warm, brown eyes, framed with green, happy for the first time in a week. They complimented each other perfectly.
I know you did a drabble about the reader finding out Jason's red hood, but may I propose another one in which she doesn't find his mask at home, but it's more like she's in a robbery/hold up and he comes to alleviate the situation, but something in the way he acts tells her and she comes to the realization there and he knows that she knows. I hope that made sense.
A/n: This has a disabled! reader in it. Because reasons.
It all happens so fast. Cola. Poor Cola. Your sweet boy is hurt, struggling to stand back up. Trying to protect you.
There's a knife on your throat and if you move, neither of you is getting out alive. You're too scared to scream. You can't even cry. All you can do is pray to a god that's never heard you before.
And then it's over. Neat little holes in the foreheads of the men as they crumble to the ground. And Cola, who'd been growling and screaming, stops, whining and wagging his tail as the man holding the gun reaches down to stroke him. "Good boy," he said, voice rough.
The Redhood is walking towards you and you aren't really sure if you're any safer or not. But his voice, while gruff, is very soft, "Are you hurt?"
"I don't think so," you murmur, taking the cane he scooped off the ground, glad to have something to lean on. "But. Cola- my dog."
"Will he let me pick him up?"
"I've done it before," you answer, making your way to the dog and kissing his snout. "My brave boy," you croon, "you tried so hard."
"They fought dirty," the vigilante said. And you can feel the fury rolling off him in waves. Though you aren't sure if he's mad at you or mad on your behalf.
You pick Cola up carefully across your shoulders and smile a little when he wags his tail. His fondest ambition as a puppy had been to be a scarf- he used to lay there all the time. And now he only got to do it when it was too hot on the parking lot for his paws.
"Like a tiny Amazon," Redhood chuckled. And when you freeze, turning slowly to look up at him Jason winces. "Shit."
And caught, dead to rights, Jason took off his helmet and sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't here faster," he murmured, stroking Cola in apology before taking him off your shoulders. "I lost your tracker for a second."
"Tracker?" you question, swallowing hard. You feel cold and your mouth is dry. The last 10 minutes had been- a lot.
"Gotta protect my girl," he said softly, irritated that he couldn't carry both of you. "C'mon," he breathed. He could see the shock. And he needed to get some sugar in you. And some fluids. He could explain when you weren't trembling so hard your teeth were chattering.
Long Time No See - Part 3 -
David/Asher protective over Darlin. Eventual Darlin/David/Asher.
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, trauma, abuse, all the things that accompany the Quinn/Darlin fallout. No Quinn in this chapter though.
Have I mentioned what a mess Darlin is in this fic?
posting the whole 4k update here as well as over on ao3!
Long Time No See - Part 3 -
They woke up slowly. They couldn’t remember the last time they didn’t wake up fast and panicked with the sudden realization they’d been unconscious and vulnerable. And they felt…okay. They moved and nothing hurt. Also, they were under covers. Since when did they bother with covers? Or a bed…
Darlin rolled onto their side and opened their eyes. They did not know this room. But why weren’t they freaking out? Why did they feel so calm?
They pressed their face into the pillow and inhaled, eyes closing again. It smelled like David and Asher. This room smelled like both of them. Darlin wasn’t sure which one it actually belonged to, but it felt safe at least.
Even though that meant they were in David’s apartment. Which meant, unless they got really lucky, as soon as the left this room they’d have to face him. Fuck. They pulled the covers up over their head. Maybe they could climb out the window. They rolled the other way and flipped back the covers to get a look at the window. The shades and curtains were drawn but just enough light seeped in around the edges that they knew it was daylight out still.
Oh shit, were they really considering escaping out the window? Yes. Yes, they were.
They were officially a coward.
Darlin sat up, pushing back the covers and reluctantly leaving the bed. It was almost too hard to do but the driving force was the pinch of tears in their eyes, making them growl low at themself. Get it together. So fucking weak.
They got out of the bed, legs shaky, but they forced them to hold. They found their shirt on the floor but their jacket and boots weren’t here. So much for the window plan.
They inched toward the door and then leaned against the frame. If anyone was going to ask, they’d say they were just listening to try to decide if anyone else was home and moving around, but they also needed a second just to lean against the wall. Fuck, they were wrecked. They needed to get home. Maybe they could get a few more hours of sleep before sundown. What time was it anyway?
If they shifted, they would know instantly who was in the building. They’d know if David and Asher were anywhere on the block. But right now, tired and human skinned, the only thing they were a hundred-percent certain about was that there was coffee out there.
They opened the door silently. Yes, David was definitely out there. They could feel it in the air, but it was quiet. Maybe he was focused on something or in that bedroom over there?
Darlin leaned out into the hall. They could see the front door and, yes, their boots! They moved soundlessly. They would grab their boots and their jacket and leave. They could put them on in the elevator.
They were two steps out of the hall, passing between the kitchen and the living room. David was right fucking there, asleep on the couch. Jesus, they really had taken his bed. Heat rushed to their face. Why hadn’t he just put them on the couch? Why had he brought them back here at all? Darlin reached the door and bent to pick up their shoes. Almost as soon as their fingertips brushed the leather of their boots they knew he was awake, even before that low, rumbling growl.
“No,” David said, still lying on the couch, his arms curled back behind his head.
Darlin turned their head to look back at him, like maybe—just maybe—he was talking to someone else.
His eyes had cracked open and he was looking straight at them.
Darlin curled their lip but stood up without their boots and took a step back from the door. “Sorry…about taking your bed,” they stumbled through what they hoped was whatever the right and polite response to this situation was—whatever would get them out of it without pissing off their alpha. “I have to go—” they honestly didn’t even know what excuse was about to come flopping out of their mouth. David Fucking Shaw was staring at them and they needed to find a way out.
“No,” he said again, dragging a breath and sighing like they’d answered a question wrong.
The door was right next to them, they could make a run for it. With him laid out like that on the couch, they might have just enough of a head start to make it out of the building before he caught them. They could shift as soon as they hit the street. Darlin’s heart sank when they noticed the locks all turned. No chance in hell they could throw those back and get out before he was across the room. David was big, but he wasn’t slow.
“Really?” he asked, as if he could read their thoughts.
Darlin’s shoulders pressed back, chin defiantly high when they turned to face him fully. He was still stretched out on the couch, like he could go back to sleep in a second if he just closed his eyes. But he wasn’t closing them. He was watching Darlin. Their gut twisted but they kept their cool. Don’t show it. “What do you want?”
David’s eyes opened fully now and they could see the muscles in his arms under all those tattoos tensing. Oh shit. Their heart beat faster and instead of giving them that extra little energy to get through any situation, it was making them light headed. Their stomach was painfully empty.
“I owe you, right? For letting me sleep here? For the healer?” They didn’t remember a healer but they knew their own body and they knew what that cottony feeling on their skin meant. Someone had magicked away bruises and cuts.
David sat up slowly, watching them the whole time.
Why was he so hard to read? Was he pissed they weren’t being more grateful? Or that they were cutting to the chase? They leaned back against the wall near the jackets, hoping it looked cocky rather than what it was—weak. Still, and maybe because of how vulnerable they felt, they dragged their angry glare over him, lingering pointedly at the fly of his jeans before asking, “What do you want, so that I can leave?” It was the wrong question, they knew it the second it flew from their mouth. He was on his feet. Logically, they knew David wasn’t that kind of person. They’d never seen him abuse his power in the pack or with anyone ever for that matter. He wasn’t even cruel when they were kids and he could have had the excuse of youth.
David was growling, teeth bared and longer than human now. “What the fuck did you just say?” His voice was gravel with fury and Darlin was glad they had their back to a wall so they couldn’t back up like a wuss, because they definitely would have if they could. “Is that how you got all those bites, Darlin? Trading skin for—”
Darlin snapped. They pushed off the wall with a snarl, shifting right there in the living room and going for David. David. Shaw. Had they lost their fucking mind? They were just so mad and so sick of feeling weak and they needed to get away from this and all their mistakes reflected in his eyes. Even now. They saw the flash of surprise and outrage on his face, but it turned almost instantly to panic and then their vision blurred and they were on the floor. They’d barely shifted wolf before their body jerked back to human form, collapsing to the floor at his feet. They were just so tired. Oh god, what had they done? They’d tried to attack David. And all that asshole had done was help them. They would get thrown out of the pack now, assuming they even survived.
“Darlin?” he said, close.
Darlin’s arm curled over their head on instinct, that last effort to guard their skull and neck, but the blows and bites never came.
His big hand pressed to their back, firm but not hard. He was on his knees in front of them, his voice full of worry and void of anger. “Darlin, it’s okay.”
Darlin gasped down swallows of air, trying to calm their racing pulse that seemed to blur the edges of their vision.
He rubbed their back with one hand, the other pushing their hair back from their face. “I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it.” He touched their arm and only then did they really realize it was curled over their head. They let him put it down and hated knowing that when he saw their face they would have tears on it. David didn’t say anything about them though, he just thumbed them away. “I don’t…” he fought a growl. “I don’t want anything from you. You’re family. I would never—”
“I know,” Darlin rushed out, swallowing hard and still struggling to catch their breath. They couldn’t look at him. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’re better than that.”
He sighed like that meant something huge to him—like they’re opinion of him mattered. He palmed the side of their head. “Can you get to the couch?”
Darlin winced. Why was he being so nice? They’d tried to attack him. They sat up, trying to will themself to stop shaking. This was humiliating. How could this day get worse?
David scooped them up.
That was how this day got worse.
He picked them up and moved them to the couch, putting them down in the middle of soft cushions. “You need to eat something. Asher was supposed to pick up food on his way back but he’s still—”
“David…” Darlin forced themself to say.
He stopped, looking down at them but they still couldn’t quite look up at him. Fuck. They’d gotten themself so deep this time.
“I know you don’t want…anything,” they cringed. “But I don’t know what’s happening right now. I don’t understand why you’re… I-I attacked you,” the words were hard to get out. They were still shaking. He should be running them out not talking about getting them food.
David crouched in front of them, so that his face was in front of theirs. “You felt cornered and we pushed each other. You’re not in trouble.”
Darlin’s gaze snapped to his, too surprised to hide it. He was so close. It should have put their guard up but it had their shoulders relaxing instead.
They looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable. He should have known they’d be an asshole when they felt weak. He should have been ready for them to try to piss him off. But he hadn’t been ready for the way they’d looked at him and asked what he wanted from them. Like he’d hold their freedom or safety hostage for some fucked up favor? He’d said the first thing he knew would make them feel as upset as he did, and he regretted it instantly.
All of his anger had been forgotten when they tried to shift. It wasn’t that they’d lunged at him—it was that they couldn’t shift all the way and he’d watched the pain rip through them when they tried and failed, body landing hard on the floor.
He was supposed to be helping them—supposed to be taking care of them—and he’d made shit worse.
Now, kneeling in front of them, so close and watching the confusion and exhaustion in their eyes, his heart hurt for them. They didn’t even understand that he and Ash were helping. He wanted to reach out and touch them again but he didn’t. They might flinch and neither of them could handle that right now. “You’re staying here for a while.”
Darlin inhaled to argue.
David rolled his eyes and stood up. “You have a psychotic vamp ex hunting you and you can’t even shift, Darlin. You’re not going anywhere. So get fucking comfortable.” He walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and an apple. Asher should be back soon. He’d needed to run a couple errands for them and was picking up food. Fingers crossed it wasn’t pizza again…
He came back and thankfully Darlin was still sitting where he’d left them. He held out the water and apple.
Darlin took the water and frowned at the apple. “The fuck do I do with that?”
David frowned. Son of a bitch. Another Asher. “Eat it.”
Darlin looked dubious but took the fruit.
David sat down next to them, but left a space in between. He didn’t want to leave that space. He wanted to sit as close to them as possible, so he could hear their heart beating and know in every way that they were alive and well. But that was a lot, so this had to be enough.
Darlin drained their water but eyed his cup of coffee when he took a sip and then set it back down. He nudged the coffee closer to them.
Darlin put down the apple and picked up his coffee, drinking from his cup.
It shouldn’t have given him chills, but it did.
The locks on the front door rolled back just before Asher came in, trying to be quiet until he saw Darlin sitting there on the couch and gave up. He smiled big and David knew he noticed the mug in their hands—David’s mug. David did not generally share well. Only two people had ever used that mug before.
Asher, bless him, said nothing. He held up the bags in his hands. “I got dumplings!”
David sighed but decided at least dumplings were better than pizza or wings.
Darlin’s stomach gurgled and David had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling.
Asher locked the doors and David came over and took the food from him while he was still getting his sneakers off. To his surprise, David put the food on the coffee table. He usually made Asher sit at the table to eat meals. Asher griped sometimes but he knew it was something Gabe used to do—used to make them sit at the table and eat together rather than watching TV. As much as Asher loved to be a couch potato, he also loved being a person David wanted to sit with at his table.
But if he was laying out their boxes of dumplings in neat lines on the coffee table, that meant he wasn’t sure Darlin could get to the table. Asher dragged his gaze over them on the couch, their hands still wrapped around David’s coffee mug and eyes fixed on the food like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. They looked a thousand times better than they had last night, but there were still bags under their eyes and something deeply tired about them.
Asher went to the kitchen, grabbed more water and came back just in time to be handed chopsticks.
He’d ordered like ten of every dumpling they made at their favorite place. Some were gyoza and some were bao, everything was amazing. He immediately snagged one and stuffed it into his mouth. He’d been running around town all afternoon doing pack shit so David could stay at the house. He was starving!
Darlin’s stomach rumbled again but they tore their gaze off the food, looking toward the window. He saw the moment they realized the sun was going to set soon. They’d slept all day. They put down the coffee mug, leaning forward. “I—” they started.
Asher picked up the largest of the bao, big fluffy and white. He held it out toward them, practically pushing it into their hands. “Try this one! It’s so good.” He noticed how their hand shook. How long since they ate last? “This place is one of my favorites.”
Darlin sat back slowly, too tired to fight maybe? They took a bite of the bun and sighed audible, relaxing and taking another bite.
Asher grinned. “Told you. Oh, try this one too,” he moved dumplings around, soon making a pile in the corner of the box nearest them. He caught David smiling at him before he stuffed a dumpling in his own mouth and looked away.
They watched tv, the volume low, and ate until the paper cartons were empty and the sun was almost down. Darlin sagged into the couch, eyelids heavy. Asher felt them fall asleep beside him. He had considered suggesting they go back to bed, or even tucking them in, but he was pretty sure Darlin would resist that. They’d try to stay awake or, worse, they might try to leave. He didn’t want to feel like they were keeping Darlin against their will, but he also couldn’t imagine letting them go when they were hurt and someone was hunting them. It was unthinkable.
He wondered if David had the same series of thoughts, leading to them quietly sitting on either side of Darlin, watching some action flick they’d seen a million times with the volume barely on, waiting for their troublemaker to pass out.
And they did pass out. Asher knew it in their breathing and the way their muscles finally relaxed, body sagging back against the cushions completely.
They sat for a while longer like that, quiet, until David spoke. He didn’t whisper but he kept his voice low and even. They’d both be able to tell if Darlin was waking up. “Did you find him?” he asked.
Asher smiled because of course that was David’s first question. He glanced sideways at him, across Darlin. “If I had, I would have come back a little later and a whole lot bloodier.”
David grunted once, disappointed but also a little amused.
“But I talked to Milo. He’s going to make sure no one is running around on their own at night until we figure this out and Stealth is going to inquire about the leech at the Department.”
David hummed, nodding.
Eventually Asher picked up Darlin and took them to bed. As much as he knew they’d both like to keep them close, he also knew Darlin would sleep better and longer on the bed. When he came back to the living room, David had cleared away all the trash from dinner and sat back down on the couch, frowning hard. “They’ll try to leave tomorrow.”
Asher nodded, stretching. “Yeah. I guess if they really push it, we could just camp out at their apartment.” He didn’t miss the twitch of a smile at the corner of David’s mouth at that. He came closer, until he was standing over him, bumping his knee with his. “You and me…?” Asher started to ask and then stopped, surprising himself by the slight panic in his chest.
David looked up at him, focusing on him. For all the things Asher just knew—just understood about people—he tripped up sometimes when it came to them. David shook his head and reached out, palming Asher’s hip and tugging him closer. Asher sighed, landing in David’s lap, straddling his thighs. It was familiar and close and he realized suddenly that they’d both needed that. “Whatever changes, it won’t be the end of us. It will never be the end of us, Ash. Just because no one’s noticed, doesn’t mean it’s a secret.”
They hadn’t hidden their relationship. David just wasn’t into PDA and Asher had always been flirty, plus they’d been best friends since they were kids and living together since they were twenty. No one had noticed that they weren’t roommates anymore. Hadn’t been just friends for nearly a year. David realized he needed to find a way to fix that, because what felt private and okay to him had started to taste like a secret to Asher. And the absolute last thing he wanted was for Asher to feel like he was hiding him or ashamed of them.
They had happened so naturally that there had been no awkward moment or sudden change. One day that flirting and comfortable banter just shifted into more. David had kissed Asher first. He would never forget that look of surprise on his friend’s face. It wasn’t often Asher was completely taken by surprise. David had told him from the first night that it wasn’t friends with benefits or just fucking around. He wanted him. Always.
Asher leaned forward, forehead to forehead, and closed his eyes. “Okay,” Asher exhaled, nodding, accepting his words because David had never lied to him. He knew that Asher would always trust him, no matter how something looked or seemed, he would always believe what David told him. He had built that trust and he would never let it crack.
David moved one hand to the side of Asher’s neck, fingering skin down to the collar of his t-shirt and then circling the spot between shoulder and neck, under fabric, where his latest mark was. “You could just walk around without a shirt on…”
Asher snorted, smiling now. “You know I do. Most won’t ask and the ones that do I won’t answer. Not their business and more fun to leave them wondering…”
David wondered if that was the whole truth. Asher might not be saying because he still wasn’t sure David really wanted anyone to know. He cared too much about what David wanted sometimes. He’d give him anything. It was one of the reasons it had taken so long for David to make that first move. He had to be sure it was what Asher wanted before that first kiss.
He resolved right then to fix this not-secret-secret issue. At least that was an easier thing to fix than Darlin’s psychotic ex on the loose.
“What—?” Asher started to ask.
David kissed him. He hummed into it, still loving the feel of Asher’s surprise. The way his lanky body jolted a little in his lap before leaning into him, arms curling around the back of his shoulders. The kiss built. David slid his tongue into Asher’s mouth and growled low at the way the other man sucked at it, hips rolling. And then, just as suddenly, David broke the kiss. He stood up, easily tossing Ash to the side on the couch.
Asher whined and David laughed, walking around the coffee table. Asher stretched out on the couch, head back to watch David. “Come on… I can be quiet,” he promised.
It was a lie. David snorted. “You can’t even masturbate quiet.”
Asher grinned big and David immediately regretted mentioning it. “I can try. Wanna see me try?”
David rolled his eyes and put on his sneakers. “Nope.” That was also a lie. He definitely did want to see that. “I’m going for a run real quick. I’ve been in the apartment too long. Watch the troublemaker?”
Asher continued to smile. “I can give you a work out if you want…”
“Knock it off…” David grumbled, his back to Asher to hide his smile. He was the worst once he got going…but hadn’t David been the one that got him going to start with?
Asher laughed and sat up, pulling one of the controllers from the basket under the coffee table. “Fine. Fine. You run and I’ll stay home and think about all the things we could have done… I’ll text you if anything spectacular comes to mind.”
“Don’t,” David said bluntly, but put his phone in his pocket. He could still taste Asher on his tongue. “I won’t be long. Any blood suckers come knocking you know what to do.”
Asher barked a laugh, already clicking buttons on the controller. “Bite first, apologize never.”
David smiled and headed out, locking the door behind him.
Their building wasn’t far from the park that cut through Dahlia. He shifted when he hit a stretch of path with no humans and broke off the trail into the trees for a better run. It felt good to get some of that tension out, not just the sexual tension Asher had gifted him with, but the unresolved anger about Quinn, and the tangle of emotions he had around Darlin.
When he got back, he showered and then took up his spot on the couch. Asher paused his game and stretched out, sprawled over his lap and falling asleep within minutes. David played with Asher’s hair when no one was awake to know it. And then, around midnight, he felt Darlin shift in the other room.
Asher must have felt it too because he woke up instantly, rolling off David’s lap and shifting as soon as he touched the floor.
Darlin was whining and growling.
There was no conversation about what to do. Instinct drove them both down the hall to check on the room even though there was no way in hell anyone had gotten in there without them knowing it.
Sure enough, Darlin was alone. They had shifted in their sleep, kicking and baring teeth at ghosts. Asher jumped up onto the bed and David shifted and followed. The two wolves settled in on either side of Darlin and they calmed down instantly, sinking back into deep sleep. Asher was back asleep almost as quickly, head resting on Darlin’s back. David curled up on the side of the bed closest to the door, facing it but with his back against Darlin. All three of them slept through the night, pressed close in a pile of fur and teeth.
omg that would be so great if u did like wanda dsmom whump
HI Anon! Great idea! For this piece it’s Mom!Wanda x Teen!Reader (platonic).
Wanda had always treated Y/N like one of her own children. When her children disappeared, Y/N was all she had left. And she would do anything to make sure Y/N didn’t leave, too. Y/N was currently staying at an apartment in New York, and when Wanda offered for her to come visit her in the country, Y/N couldn’t refuse the chance to get away from the city for a little while. If only Y/N had known about what had happened at Westview.
“Please, make yourself at home, Y/N,” Wanda said, opening the door to the cabin, “your room’s right next to mine.”
Y/N followed Wanda through the house to a small bedroom. Wanda had decorated it with things she knew Y/N liked. For instance, the bedspread was in her favorite color, and there were posters up of Y/N’s favorite TV shows.
“Wanda,” Y/N said, “I’m only staying for a week. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“But I wanted to, Y/N,” Wanda replied, “now get settled. Dinner will be ready in an hour or two.”
Y/N watched Wanda leave. She started unpacking, unaware that the witch was opening up a forbidden tome just one room over.
Y/N was almost done unpacking when she saw a wisp of red flow into her room.
“Wanda?” Y/N asked.
Y/N followed the red wisp until she reached Wanda’s room. She knocked on the door, but no answer came.
“Wanda, are you okay in there?” Y/N asked nervously.
When still no answer came, Y/N cautiously pushed open the door and peeked inside. What she saw made her gasp. Wanda was in the center of the room, surrounded by candles, hovering in midair, reading a sinister-looking book. She was dressed in all red and black, with a red crown to match.
“W-Wanda?” Y/N approached Wanda slowly, “what are you doing?”
“Shhh, Y/N, I’m concentrating,” Wanda answered.
Wanda looked up and smiled.
Y/N cried out as red energy swirled around her and attached itself to her limbs. Y/N struggled against the magic restraints, but they wouldn’t budge.
“Calm down, Y/N,” Wanda said softly, “this will all be over in a minute.”
‘Wanda, what are you doing? What’s going on?”
Wanda strode closer until she was standing inches away from Y/N. She brought a hand filled with red magic up to Y/N’s temple. Immediately, Y/N stopped struggling as her expression grew vacant and her eyes glazed over.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wanda said, “my mind control only reaches so far, Y/N. I don’t want you fighting me internally, so I’ve consulted the Darkhold for a stronger spell. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit.”
Y/N was only faintly aware of what Wanda was saying before dark red spots danced across her vision and everything faded away.
Y/N woke up to sunlight filtering in through her window. She sat up in bed and stretched.
“Y/N,” Wanda called, “breakfast is ready!”
“Coming, Mom!” Y/N answered.
Y/N threw off the covers and headed down the hall to the kitchen, where Wanda was currently making her favorite breakfast. Y/N sat down at the table as Wanda slid waffles onto a plate.
“Did you sleep well?” Wanda asked, setting the plate in front of Y/N.
“For the most part,” Y/N answered, “I had a really weird dream though…”
“I wouldn’t think on it,” Wanda said quickly, “oftentimes dreams don’t mean anything. Eat your breakfast.”
Y/N picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of waffle. The flavors danced in her mouth as she bit into it. Wanda had always been the best cook since as long as Y/N could remember. A knock at the front door caused Y/N to look up from her plate.
“Who’s that?” Y/N asked.
“Stay here, Y/N,” Wanda said, “I’ll be right back.”
Wanda left the kitchen and headed to the front door. Y/N set her fork down as she listened closely.
“Wanda,” a voice said, “what have you done with Y/N?”
“Y/N?” Wanda answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s been missing for a month, Wanda, and the trail leads to you.”
Missing? Y/N wasn’t missing, she was home. What was going on? Y/N quietly got up and crept over to the front door. There was a man in the doorway dressed in blue robes and a red cloak that seemed to move of its own accord. Something about the man seemed awfully familiar, but Y/N couldn’t place it.
“Mom?” Y/N asked, “what’s going on?”
“’Mom’?” the stranger asked, “Wanda, are you kidding me? First you brainwash an entire town, and now this?”
“Y/N, go to your room, please,” Wanda said, her voice strained, “I’ll take care of this.”
“No, stay right where you are,” the stranger countered, “your ‘mother’ and I need to talk to you.”
Y/N stood frozen to the spot. She couldn’t figure out what to do. The strange man sighed and released a glowing, yellow string from his hand. The string wrapped around Y/N’s middle and dragged her forward until she was right in front of the strange man.
“What are you doing!?” Y/N yelled, “who are you!?”
“You don’t remember me, that’s just great,” the man said, “don’t worry, I’m gonna fix this.”
A red blast of energy threw the man backwards into the front yard. The glowing string wrapped around Y/N’s middle dissipated and the door slammed shut of its own accord.
“And stay out!” Wanda shouted.
Wanda quickly turned to Y/N and cupped her face. She turned her head from one side to the other.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” Wanda asked, her face etched with worry.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Y/N asked, “who was that?”
“No one you need to worry about.” Wanda replied, “let’s just say he’s a very bad man who wants to take you away from me. I’m not going to let him or anyone else take you away from me, Y/N, I promise.”
Wanda hugged Y/N close as Y/n’s head swam with several thoughts. Why was someone trying to take her away from her mom? Why did that man say she had been missing for a month? Something wasn’t right, and Y/N had a feeling Wanda knew something she didn’t. Before she could ask, Wanda let go of Y/N and let streams of red energy circle around her. Y/N watched as the house transformed before her eyes. Sharp bars grew up in front of the window panes, and several locks materialized in front of the door. Y/N stumbled as the house seemed to grow up out of its foundation. Y/N looked out the barred window to see that they were several stories above the ground.
“There,” Wanda said, “I’d like to see someone try to break through this fortress.”
Wanda turned to Y/N and her expression softened. Y/N, however, looked very uneasy.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Wanda asked.
“Mom,” Y/N started, “what aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Y/N,” Wanda replied, “why don’t you head to your room? I have some things I need to take care of.”
Y/N turned and headed to her room. Still, something didn’t feel right. Y/N didn’t know how, but she was going to get to the bottom of this.
Meanwhile, the Scarlet Witch flew into her own bedroom. She opened the Darkhold and flipped through several pages until she landed on just the right spell.
“I’m not going to lose you, Y/N,” Wanda said, “I’m not going to lose anyone ever again.”
“I was not made aware of this,” the villain remarks lightly, taking a few steps to stand at the hero’s side. To their mild surprise, the hero isn't wearing their costume. Their enemy has their arms crossed over the balcony railing and is wearing casual clothes that threaten to throw off the villain’s perception of them. For a moment, it appears as if the hero is too zoned out to notice them. Just as the villain is about to say something, they respond.
“Well, what was I supposed to say?” the hero asks, evidently irritated. The villain chances a sidelong glance at them, committing their facial features to memory. Deep down, they’re afraid that this may be their last encounter. It’s this fear that pushes the villain to paint a picture of their nemesis in their head. Freckles, brown eyes glimmering with warmth, an easy smile. “Hey, mortal enemy of mine, I’m retiring?”
“Something like that, yes,” the villain sighs, pinching at the bridge of their nose. They feel as if they’re at the mercy of the conversation- like they’re drowning in a sea of social rules and expectations. “This is an inconvenience. I don’t want to deal with some newbie.” I don't want to deal with someone that’s not you lies on the tip of their tongue. The villain manages to remain silent, against all odds.
“Oh, would you like me to put in a good word for you?” the hero asks, puppy-dog eyes burning holes into the villain’s skin. The villain blinks and the innocent joy on their enemy’s face is entirely dissipated. They’re not exactly surprised. “Listen to yourself. You’re making this sound like a business arrangement.”
The villain simply raises an eyebrow at the hero, waiting for them to find the flaw in their own argument. For a few moments, there’s nothing but a light breeze and the occasional beep of a car filling the air. Eventually, the hero’s smile turns to a scowl.
“I suppose it is sort of a business arrangement,” the hero acquiesces, scrunching their nose in displeasure as they cross their arms over their chest. Their eyebrows furrow and they turn to look at them. “Wait, can we backpedal for a moment? You said this was an inconvenience. I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you?” Sarcasm drips from their voice and the villain resists the urge to laugh. They have to let out an awkward cough in place of a chuckle.
“Only as much as you normally do,” the villain says instead, rolling their eyes and hoping their fondness isn’t seeping into their voice. It doesn’t appear to do so, because the hero doesn’t react to the statement aside from a reciprocal eye roll.
“As if you don’t inconvenience me right back,” the hero snaps lightheartedly. The smile on their face leaves no room for the villain to misconstrue the remark as an insult. The villains hands fidget at their sides, their fingers twitching to hold and never let go.
“I’m a villain- that’s sort of my job,” the villain manages to say with a grin, taking the opportunity for what it’s worth. The hero clearly expected a response of the like, because they put their head in their hands dramatically and mutter something too quietly for the villain to hear. When they remove their hands, the villain is equally surprised and pleased to find their cheeks are flushed pink. They’re not sure what to do with that, though. Times like these make them wish they were a bit more assertive, a bit more confident. It’s too late for confidence to do them any good, however. Their nemesis is retiring. Nothing the villain can do will change that.
“I’m going to miss this,” the hero whispers, breaking them out of their thoughts. The remark is quiet enough that the villain thinks, for a moment, that they imagine it. The hero clasps their arm and stares off into the horizon, an unreadable expression on their face. The villain bites their lip, knowing exactly what this is referring to: the witty banter, the messy punches, the stolen glances, all of it. They turn back to the hero and try to speak on what they’re feeling but their thoughts are a jumbled mess. The villain finds themselves blurting out the only words they can ascertain from the chaotic tangle of feelings and emotions coursing through them.
©2022 @defectivehero All Rights Reserved.
endnotes after the cut :0
guys this literally just came up out of the blue. I wrote down “I wasn’t made aware of this,” and planned to leave it in the drafts for later, but something just pulled at my brain and didn’t let go. then, this happened. boom!
can i get #4 with ike ? i need that hurt/comfort so bad 🥺
awee of course!
heads ups: hurt to comfort.
i watched ike happily converse with his friends while my mind wandered elsewhere. i wanted to say something
but i didn't know how, or when.
they seemed to be fine in their own, there was never any need to partake in their conversation. in fact, no one asked for my input now did they?
the only reason why i was still there was because of ike. but how much longer could i stay? i thought back to when i first came and saw them all sitting together, laughing and eating the food i made. it felt so nice seeing them all chatty and giddy like that.
..ike, you're always so outstanding. having a group of friends you consider like a family. he was always so vibrant and elegant, i wasn't like him. i was far different from my own partner.
"oh right! (name), are you joining us?" i snapped back to reality. everyone looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.
i shook my head and said, "nope, it's alright. i don't want to be too much of a burden, barging in on your meetup."
ike's face contorted at this from afar, his eyes meeting mines before i fled to our shared room.
i think it's safe to say, the night went by without incident. their loud voices boomed from downstairs as i laid in bed, it was like hiding away in a bathroom at a party. except i'm bundled up in my room, waiting for them to tire out from all the conversing.
a knock at my door broke my train of thoughts. it was ike.
he opened the door and stepped into our room, closing the door behind him.
he leaned against the door and crossed his arms, "what was that all about?"
i sat up and pulled the blanket closer to me, "it's just that i don't want to disturb your fun."
ike frowned at this and walked up to me, grabbing my hands and holding them down on the mattress. his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at me.
"don't you ever," he dipped down further, "consider yourself a burden, ever."
this caused tears to fall down my cheeks.
his grip loosened and he backed away, letting go of my hands. he then leaned in to hold my cheeks, caressing them.
"i'm sorry if that was too forward of me but you mean too much to me to be seen in such a way." ike wiped away my tears with his thumb, smiling softly at me.
i squeezed my eyes shut, getting rid of any unshed tear.
"you can never feel that about yourself, understood?" he ordered sincerely, his expression soft and wavering.
i opened my eyes to see his golden olive green eyes boring into mines.
i nodded my head slowly.
"now let's sleep together okay? we can wake up late tomorrow." he pulled me into a hug, rubbing my back.
i wrapped my arms around his middle and snuggled my cheek onto his shoulder. his warmth felt wonderful and comforting.. i could get lost in his sweet embrace.
hi astra!! i heard you’re taking return requesters so… for your au event , maybe ace x gn reader with the “It's dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer.” prompt, and a roommates au? bonus if you could get some childhood friends and reader comforting ace in there :) feel free to ignore if i got your message wrong!! have a good day and congrats again on 200!
Warnings: hurt/comfort, anxious, trauma Ace.
Word Count: 1120
The beginning of this is actually something I thought of but never really went anywhere or could think of anything to do with. Also, I know that Ace often comes off as confident and happy and shit, but this is more about his uncertainties and the whole ‘people hate me because of Roger’ thing, so…
The friendship you had with Ace had always been a little odd, from the moment the two of you met in preschool and he ate your food. When you told most people how the two of you met, most of them assumed that he ate your animal crackers and ‘oh what a cute way to meet.’ but not with Ace, Ace ate everything but your animal crackers. The usually angry, volatile, and rather hungry boy had expected you to cry or run to the teacher screaming and while he’d get ‘time out’ it would be worth the free food. What he hadn’t expected was for you to scream angrily and lunge at him. Despite the fact that you both ended up losing recess privileges, had your parents called, Ace had a split lip, and you’d lost a tooth, the two of you ended up being inseparable from that day on. Of course neither your parents nor Ace’s guardian were quite sure what to make of your odd relationship as neither of you played like ‘normal kids’, but your parents were happy that you were happy and despite her claims that she was just happy that Ace was kept occupied, Dadan was happy that Ace was happy. Being inseparable, you ended up being friends with Sabo and Luffy, but you were always closer with the angry black-haired boy who ate your lunch, the one you moved in with when you both decided to live on your own.
Groaning, you rolled over, arm reaching out for a body that was missing. The two of you had found peace, falling asleep in each other’s arms enough times that you’d decided to share a bed, and while neither of you really quite knew what you were to each other, waking up and finding his side of the bed was cold had you a tad disconcerted. Ace wasn’t usually one to wake up and get out of bed in the middle of the night unless something was bothering him, something that happened less frequently than it used to, but still more frequently than you’d preferred. Rubbing your eyes, you left the warmth of the covers, eyes slowly roaming over the dark living room as you looked for the familiar mop of messy black hair. The sound of shoes moving about drew you to the front door to see Ace standing there, one shoe in hand, the other still on the floor.
“Y/n, I… sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Ace muttered, looking down at the floor. He had that look on his face.
“Then why did you leave the bed? You know I sleep better when you’re there.” you stated, not wanting to draw attention to the obvious quite yet.
“I uh, I was just… I have a lot on my mind, thought I’d go for a walk, clear my head.” Ace muttered, still looking at the floor rather guiltily. He hated talking about what was bothering him, hated feeling like a bother.
“You know, it's dark outside, and it’s raining. My arms are much safer.” you stated, walking over to him and taking one of his hands in yours. Ace hesitated, looking at your hand in his before setting his shoe down before nodding and following you to the couch. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, you let Ace rest his head on your chest, fingers running through his dark locks. You always knew how to calm the raging tempest that were his darkest thoughts. Still, this time, the feeling of your fingers in his hair and the sound of your heartbeat lightly drumming in his ear did little to calm him. The young man’s arms wrapped tighter around you, as if afraid that you might disappear at any second.
“Y/n?” Ace whispered, nuzzling into your chest, as if trying to bury himself further into your warmth. Giving a small hum, you looked down at him, hand pausing as you attempted to brush a lock of hair out of his face, only for it to fall back a second later.
“I… Do… you’re… we’ve…” Ace struggled to find the words before groaning into your chest.
“Deep breath, Ace. in… and out.” you instructed, going through the motions with him. After a moment, Ace sighed, finding a bit of calm in your presence once more.
“Y/n, we’ve… we’re friends, I… I know that. But I… we’ve…” Ace took another couple of deep breaths, “Y/n, I’m afraid of losing you.” he admitted, eyes closed tight, gripping your shirt until his knuckles turned white. Your brow furrowed as you looked down at him.
“Ace, you won’t lose me. We’ve been best friends for years, why would I think I’m going anywhere?” you asked, fingers pausing, still tangled in his hair.
“Because I… I don’t want you as a friend.” Ace blurted out, shocking you. He… didn’t want you as a friend?
“Ace, I don’t-”
“That’s not what I meant! I mean, I did mean it, but I didn’t, not like that!” Ace said suddenly, clearly too distraught to figure out what he was trying to say.
“Ace! Breathe!” you ordered, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger, staring into his wild, desperate, and panicked eyes. Ace took a few shaky breaths before looking back up at you. He’d just said that he didn’t want to be friends with you, but you were still here, helping him, holding him.
“I… Y/n, whenever I’m with you I’m… you make me really happy. But I’m… I like being around you, so much. But I don’t want to…” Ace took a few more shaky breaths.
“I love you.” Ace whispered, his voice so quiet that you thought you misheard him for a moment. The world seemed to stop for a moment as you took a moment to process what he’d said.
“Truly?” you asked, finally, trying to calm your now pounding heart. Ace nodded, unable to help the small whimper that left his lips.
“I love you, I’ve tried not to, I don’t deserve-”
“Stop.” you ordered once more, cutting him off, “You deserve so much more than you realize, Ace. I love you too… I didn’t, wasn’t sure what we were, what I meant to you, but I’ve loved you for… a while.” you stated, arms wrapping around him, pulling him as close as you could. The room was silent save for Ace’s uneven breathing as he wrapped his arms around you. He wouldn’t argue with you about what he deserved or his worth, it was an argument he never won anyway. Instead, he’d just allow himself to be held and comforted by someone who loved him.
I hope you don't mind that I used anxious, depressed, trauma Ace rather than cocky, confident, smiling, happy Ace.
satan | leviathan hurting you in the heat of the moment scenarios
originally written on: 20/01/22
You tiptoe around the mess of books sprawled all over his floor, making a mental note to remind Satan to clean them up later. He’d asked if you could bring him his D.D.D. and from where you stood, you could spot it sitting on his equally-messy desk, placed precariously on top of a tower of thick books. Taking a few more steps, you find yourself within arms length of your goal and so you reach out, stretching your hand out as much as you can before you feel the very tips of your fingers brush against the device. Leaning forward just a little bit, you manage snatch the D.D.D. and hold onto it securely but not before your foot slips underneath you.
“Fuck—!” you cry out as you end up leaning your entire body weight against Satan’s desk in an attempt to save yourself from falling only for the table to collapse completely. A loud crash and then the sound of heavy thumps is all you hear before you fall to the ground. Before the panic can even begin to settle in entirely, you hear a pair of familiar footsteps race towards the room you’re in.
Normally, you’d be happy to see your boyfriend after a little accident like this, knowing that he’d always be sweet enough to help you fix it up—even if he does chide you along the way. But now, all you feel is your entire body going numb as your heart practically freezes over. In his Demon form, Satan stands a few metres in front of you, his eyebrows deeply furrowed, an intense scowl etched on his face.
“Sa—” you say softly, only to find yourself unable to properly breathe. He’s kneeling in front of you now, trapping you between his furious self and the cupboard behind you, his hands clutching onto your shoulders so tightly you swear blood has been drawn, though you’re too frightened to check if you’re right. Your hands reach up shakily to grab his tensed arms as you let out gasps of pain.
“Why’re you so fucking clumsy?!” he growls lowly, a menacing aura radiating off his entire being, “what the hells’ wrong with you?! What? You can’t do some simple task without destroying half my goddamn room?!” As Satan speaks, his fingernails dig deeper into your flesh and before you know it, warm tears began rolling down your face.
“Please… calm down,” you murmur, trying your best to hold onto his arms in spite of the sharp pain in your shoulders, “you’re hurting me.”
As if a switch inside him was flipped, his hands relax completely as his eyes glaze over. For a moment, Satan remains completely still, his lips parted ever so slightly, his hands resting gently on the same place he’d previously inflicted so much pain on. Never before in his entire existence had the Demon felt the wrath inside of him dissipate so quickly, so effortlessly, only to be replaced by the heaviness of pure guilt. Your own hands still touch his arms, your fingers wrapping around his forearms with unbelievable tenderness.
“Are you okay?” you ask in a soft voice that manages to knock the wind out of him.
“Why’re you asking me that?” Satan whispers, the ache in his chest intensifying while his eyes begin to burn with tears. Carefully, he grabs your bruised shoulders once more before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. For a split second you tense up only to relax almost entirely as you place the palm of your hand against his cheek. He leans into the touch without hesitation, tears falling freely. “I’m sorry…” he murmurs, voice trembling as the guilt within him starts to transform into utter disgust toward himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“We can just put it back in the box, Levi,” you say in your calmest tone considering the situation at hand, “it’s still good as new! See?” You close the box, holding it out to show your fuming partner. When he said you could look at his figurines, you didn’t think he meant you couldn’t take one out to touch it. Sure, it was your fault for assuming but did he have to be so angry about it?
“No! It’s not!” Leviathan yells, “it was perfect before you took it out and ruined it!”
“Then I’ll just buy you a new one!”
“It won’t be the same! They don’t make these anymore! ISTG what’s wrong with normies like you? Why can’t you just have respect for my things?!” In his Demon form, it’s hard not to feel a sense of fear creeping up on you the longer the fight carries on. At the same time though, you can’t help but feel an indignant sort of anger.
“I do respect your things! When have I ever disrespected any of your interests?! All I did was take it out of the box, you don’t have to yell at me!” You feel a greater shortness of breath the more you shout but you can’t hold it back anymore: the frustration towards how much care he pours into his figurines and manga compared to you, how easily he snaps when you do such innocuous things. You love Leviathan so, so much but he can definitely be the hardest person to handle sometimes.
“Just—” he exhales sharply running his hands over his face, “put the box down and get out! I don’t wanna see you anymore!” He points to the door, hand trembling slightly from what you can assume is a result of his own frustration. For a second, you almost comply, not willing to continue this childish argument any longer but your pride doesn’t let you leave. Instead, you slam the box back down on his shelf.
“No! We’re gonna talk this out like adults! No more kicking me out when you throw some stupid tantrum!” You demand, releasing a huff of annoyance when you see his eyes stare at nothing but the boxed figurine beside you. “Is that really all you care about, Levi? That I put it down a little bit too hard?” you ask, taking a step towards him, feeling your eyebrows furrow, “hey. Say something. Tell me where I stand in this rela—”
He moves quicker than your brain can process what you’ve just seen but you do feel everything. The hands touching your shoulders, the force of his push, the feeling of your back slamming into his wooden shelf and the back of your head knocking against a corner of the piece of furniture. The pain is quick and sharp as your legs give out instantaneously underneath you. Your vision blurs for a second, you try to lift your arm to touch the back of your head but it’s too heavy. You can’t move. Not yet.
Beside you sits the box that caused it all. It’s still closed securely but the figurine inside is clearly broken. You’re not sure what to feel anymore but… from it all… you do feel… tired…
You brace for impact as your limp body falls forwards only for something soft and gentle to materialise in front of you. Leviathan’s arms are quick to wrap around you as his entire body shakes from his sobs. Your head’s still throbbing a little bit and you’re pretty sure there’s gonna be a nasty bump there tomorrow morning but… he’s so warm… You return return his embrace without even realising it, leaning deep into his chest.
“Why’re you crying?” you murmur, “I’m the one who hit my head, silly.” You let out a brief exhale through your nose although you’re fully aware of the lack of humour in this situation.
“I’m horrible, I’m disgusting,” Levi hiccups, words muffled from the way he buries his face in your hair, “I’m s-sorry… I’m so sorry… (Y/N), I love you more than anything… I hate myself for hurting you… I hate myself… it’s okay if you—if you hate me, too…”
“You’re the worst sometimes…” you laugh breathlessly, “but I don’t hate you. I know you’re good. Just be better, hmm?”
“I will. I swear I’ll be better.”
“What scares you the most?” (Gotham!Jonathan Crane x Reader)
i LOVE this version of Jonathan crane/scarecrow, he deserves so much more love!
It’s really hard to fin fanfics and fanart for this version so I thought I could make some for my boy
Warning: Implied abusive parent and hallucinations, nightmares, talking about abandonment, using R instead of y/n
“-HE WHAT?!” I yelled into the phone “I’ll be right there” I hastily said hanging up as I put on my shoes and ran out the door, I could hear my mom call after me asking what I was doing as I ran down the the hallway towards the stairs of our apartment building.
I ran towards the hospital worried out of my mind, how could this happen?! I should have stopped it, told someone who could have help him get away from his dad, thoughts filling my mind of what I could have done to stop that bastard from experimenting on Jonathan, but I’m not an adult I couldn’t have stopped him and the adults I told to look into them didn’t do a single thing to help, all I felt was the guilt in my chest growing as I heard my feet hitting the wet ground as I ran in the rain.
Once I got to the hospital I slowed down a bit and started to hastily walk up the stairs to the floor they kept Jonathan, I looked around for the police knowing that they would be guarding the area Jonny was staying in, the second I saw the uniforms I quickly walked towards them
“where is he?” I ask the detective as I push past the two police men standing in my way, “where is Jonathan” I ask again my voice shaking, his previously harden face softened once I said Jonathan’s name “you must be his friend, I’m detective Gordon, I was the one who called you about the umm- incident” he said reaching out his hand for a handshake, “will you take me to him?” I asked ignoring his hand being more worried about Jonny than being polite, “yeah, of course- this way” he says as he turns to walk me to the room they were keeping him.
Just as we reached the outside of his room I felt a hand holding me back keeping me from opening the door “wait- before you go in” Gordon starts but stops himself and just sighs as he motions to the windows next to the door, once I looked through I saw Jonathan struggling and terrified “right now he’s seeing whatever he’s the most afraid of and um” he looked down clearly feeling a little guilty, I looked away from Jonathan and towards detective Gordon “what?” I ask getting more worried “the doctors say he might never stop seeing whatever is haunting him mind” he finished, taking a breath looking back up at me “you can go see him now, just be careful” Gordon said, not giving it a second thought I walked into the room as quickly and carefully as I could.
Once I was in the room I froze for a second, seeing how much distress Jonathan was in was unsettling and heartbreaking, I wouldn’t want to make it worse so I took a breath and slowly walked towards him “Jonathan?” I softly say getting his attention, his face immediately softened once he saw me but quickly turned back to fear as he scanned the room, he sighed in relief and looked back at me his eyes watering “oh Jonny” I whispered as I sat down next to him wiping away the tears that threatened to fall down his cheek, “hey it’s okay, you’re safe” i try to calm him as I noticed the restraints, what the fuck, I quickly moved to take them off ignoring the feeling of eyes glaring into my scull from the outside, the second I got of the restraints I helped him sit up and hugged him.
I could feel his shaken breath against my neck as I held him “you’re safe- you’re safe” I whispered feeling him relax in my arms while clenching onto my shirt “please don’t go” he whimpered “i will never leave you” I whispered into his hair as I rubbed him back.
I haven’t left the hospital in 3 days but I could care less about the outside world right now, all I want to do is help Jonathan as much as I possibly can.
I sat on a chair on the side of his bed, resting my head against my hand half asleep when I heard mumbling and groaning, once I opened my eyes I saw Jonathan struggling around in the bed mumbling and groaning afraid, I sat up and reached out to his hand “Jonathan- Jonathan!” I held him stopping him from moving trying to wake him up “Jonny?”, his eyes shot open “No!” He gasped “hey- hey it was just a nightmare” i comforted him as he shook in his bed “I can’t take it anymore, please make it stop” he whimpered and breathed unevenly, I got up and sat down on the side of the bed and grabbed his hand rubbing my thumb over his knuckles “I’ll do anything i can to make you feel better I promise” I said quietly, giving him some time to think he looked up at me and timidly opened his mouth to ask something “C-could you lay with me- and hold me?” He looked away shyly, I smiled and said “of course” he quickly moved to give me room to lay down.
I got beside him and wrapped my arms around him letting him lean his head on my chest, he pulled the comforter over us as he snuggled into me, we ended staying like this for the next few days since the comfort of his favorite person holding him kept the nightmares away.
Simply just laying there and taking has been some of Jonathan’s favorite thing to do, it reminded him of how it was before he got injected with the toxin, no fear just the comfort of his best friend and significant other being right there for him, talking has made the time go by quickly, talking about books and movies we liked and of course just talking about life in general, but we were also able to just sit comfortably in silence not feeling the need to fill the room with our voices, It was one of those times when Jonathan and I were just laying there in silence when Jonathan decided to ask me a question, “R?” Jonny look up at me “yes Jon?” I looked down at him “What scared you the most?” He asked sweetly, normally in any other situation this question would have creeped me out but not with him, I looked up “erm- I guess” I took a breath “i guess being abandoned or loosing the people I love” I looked back down on him and gave him a comforting smile, “Really?” He quietly asked “i know it’s stupid-” i started but before I could finish I felt Jonathan’s lips on my temple, “it’s not stupid” he whispered as he moved back to look at my face “I promise I’ll make sure that you’ll never go through that fear, I promise” he said as he looked me in my eyes with such care and love in his eyes, it made my heart flutter as I smiled and kissed the bridge of his nose and laid down with him in my arms.
New chapter update to "Aftermath" available now! Still in the sad angsty bit (some of you will have read a portion already since I posted it on Tumblr a while back), but we're starting to communicate and process at least a little bit more.
Thanks all for riding along with this, and I hope you're enjoying the process! Have some pet cuddles just in case :)
Wanda Maximoff comforting an Anxious S/O (MCU Headcanons)
TW: anxiety, panic attacks, etc.
suggesting you get out of the house, going for a walk. Softly taking your hand in hers, Wanda will lead the way down the sidewalk. In the middle of the night in the summer or high noon during a dreary winter, she'll be there to help put your nerves at ease.
Understands what it's like living with trauma in an unpredictable world. She won't let you spiral, being a rock that should've been there for her.
Wrapping her arms around Y/N, chin balanced atop your head. Wanda wants to protect you when she couldn't do the same for Pietro or Vision. The problem is, she can't stop your brain. The most that can be given is unfettered support.
Often uses her powers to cheer up an anxious S/O. She'll give you a comforting vision, a babbling brook in a picturesque forest or a wildflower dotted meadow in the sun. All while she wraps you in a blanket and makes tea.
Laces her fingers with yours, foreheads pressed together while working through the shivers and the sobs.
"Nothing in this world can hurt you, Y/N. Not while I'm here."
Said firmly thought sweetly, daring the world to take away another loved one. Anything would have to go through her first.
Lingering, warm kiss pressed against your forehead.
Isn't used to being the protector in a relationship, but there's something about seeing her S/O panicked and frightened that makes her far more protective.
Cradling a sleeping Y/N against her chest in bed, fingers lovingly threading through your hair.
Sirius Black and fem! reader
[Requested – see request here]
Summary: Sirius finds out his girlfriend is suffering from depression
Warnings: Major TW - detailed decriptions of depression and suicidal thoughts, mentions of self harm and scars, one mention of blood, swearing, hurt/comfort, non-sexual nudity, insecure reader, one girl being a bit of a bitch
A/n: 4.5k words, Hufflepuff reader, if these topics makes you uncomfortable please don’t read, I’m not trying to glorify mental health issues in anyway, the thoughts and feelings in this story are from my own personal experience when I was at my lowest, this is a really personal piece for me and I knew if I was going to write this request I had to pull from myself so i did also change one part of request ever so slightly so I was more comfortable while writing 💛 I honestly don’t know if anyone will read this one but it was therapeutic for me to pour it all out on the page x
Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist
You had always felt disconnected from everyone else, like there was this invisible barrier between you and them, like they were given a manual for life which you somehow missed. When you got your Hogwarts letter you felt special, like this was the reason for why you felt the way you did, thinking that once you got there it was all going to magically fix itself, but it didn’t, it only got worse
You were nervous when your parents wished you good luck and bid you farewell at the platform, but it was an excited kind of nerves. You came across another muggle girl called Lily who you sat with on the train along with her friend Severus, they were kind and Severus were nice enough to let you both know what you were in for. When you got there, you were sorted into Hufflepuff, it hurt a little and it was just your luck you ended up in a different house than the two people you had befriended on the journey, and the fact they also got split you didn’t give you peace, you felt bad for them too.
The girls in your dorm didn’t understand you, you laughed and mirrored them as you always did but that wall was climbing again and thoughts swarmed your head, starting small and building as the years went by;
…Why wasn’t I in the cool house? What’s a mudblood? Do they like me or do the feel obligated because I share a dorm with them? What’s wrong with me? I don’t deserve to be here. I’m not special. I’m broken, we’re broken. I wish I could disappear…
The last one was a recurring thought as you went through phases, light ones were you really did feel happy but something would always happen, triggering it and send you spiralling back down. You managed to deal with it in your own way, picking at your skin became a habit, to start it was just you bored in class and you just squeezed a little bump on your arm, it was satisfying, like popping a pimple, the small bit of pain like a relief. After that day it continued, you picked at the scabs you made, making them bigger, you picked at your back, your chest, your arms, legs…
It slowly got worse and worse, you had to clean the blood off of your shirt as the picking had gotten that bad, wearing jumpers and thick tights to hide it. You were getting changed once in your dorm when someone came in and gasped asking ‘what the hell happened to your back’, someone else spotted it on a day you wore a short-sleeved shirt wondering ‘if you’d been bitten by swarm of flies’. Your parents constantly told you to stop picking, and with the comments you did…well for a short while, when OWL’s came around in 5th year the picking was kept to your back, the rest of your body slowly healing but the scars remained, luckily, they just looked like beauty marks or little freckles.
Things changed in the middle of your 6th year, you had begun to hang out with Lily again which was great, but there was a part of you though that it was because Severus called her a mudblood the year before, there was this lingering feeling that you were her second choice. You were happy to have a friend though, and through her you ended up meeting the infamous marauders. Sirius seemed to like you right away, he always made sure he was seated next to you, trying to strike up conversation. You didn’t know what to do at first, nobody let alone a boy had ever talked to you out of wanting, it was so foreign.
Sirius didn’t give up though, eventually you and he became good friends, you really felt like he saw you, understood you. He opened up to you about his family one night in the astronomy tower, it was the first time you saw the boy who was the sheer opposite of you, the boy that was always happy, cry and break down, baring his insecurities and being so vulnerable with you. You held him that night in your arms, even crying with him and falling asleep holding each other. That morning he kissed you, asking if you to be his and you said yes.
Things went well for the first few weeks but slowly those thoughts crept back…just like they always did;
…What does he see in me? We’re so different. I’m too quiet. You should talk more. I think we’re boring him. I’m not pretty enough for him. If he finds out how broken we are he’ll leave us. He’s going to leave us. Everyone always leaves. Would anyone miss me if I went away? No one would miss you. I want to go away. I want to disappear…
You had wanted to tell him about how you were feeling but every time you were about to, you always backed out, scared he wouldn’t understand. Every time before you had tried to put these feelings into words you were met with a generic response like ‘just be happy’, ‘work harder’, ‘power through’ followed by an ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong’
If he asked you to explain it you couldn’t, that was part of the problem, you didn’t know why you felt like this, why you were made this way. You couldn’t explain the urge to lay in bed all day, the lack of enthusiasm to do things you knew you loved but couldn’t in that moment, how you would stop eating properly, stop taking care of yourself. How when it got really bad you didn’t shower, cried randomly one moment then felt utterly numb the next. He would never understand, especially since you, according to the world, had nothing to be sad about, he had it worse, he had been abused verbally and mentally, you had no right to complain when you didn’t have a reason to be ‘sad’, right?
One day you were sitting in the library with the marauders and Lily. You had finished your essay as had Remus and Lily but you all decided to wait for the others. Lily and Remus were in their own quiet conversation that you were awkwardly perched on the end of. You felt so embarrassed just sitting there listening like you were eavesdropping or something, so you sat back removing yourself from Remus’ view on the other side of Lily.
As you let all the thoughts crowd your head, spacing out as you mindlessly doodled on a bit of parchment to seem somewhat occupied, Remus noticed you pulled back. He thought at first, he imagined that look in your eye, the same look he had when he was beating himself up. He didn’t say anything since Sirius would make you smile, pepper kisses across your face to get you giggling, but for some reason he felt like that wasn’t a good plan. It was beginning to happen more often, it wasn’t his place to say anything but he knew he should do something
Remus nudged Sirius’ foot discreetly under the table, thankful for the boys’ slumped seating position so he could reach it. Looking up to see who nudged him or if it was just an accident Sirius caught Remus’ eye, watching him nod to you before returning to his original conversation. Sirius sat up properly, examining your face and body language, you looked so sad it made his heart ache.
He’d noticed, you didn’t think he had but he did, he noticed when you would pull back suddenly, despite your actions being no different he saw the way your smile no longer reached your eyes, the way it seemed like you were thinking, something always on your mind. When you did it with him he was scared that he had been pushing you to go too fast, that sometimes he would be touching you and you were just too nervous to tell him you didn’t like it. After a while he figured out that wasn’t the case, so he started to wonder if it was the rumours that were getting to you, or maybe school stress, or was someone bullying you…his thoughts were relentless. Whatever it was he tried to comfort you, support you, waiting for you to tell him when you were ready.
He shuffled a little closer to you, moving take your free hand which was fiddling with the end of your tie, giving it a gentle squeeze. You stopped doodling as he did this, he watched as your gaze shifted down to them, your lips tugging up a little, that heaviness that surrounded you gone for a mere second before it returned
“Darling” he whispers “You want to go back to my dorm? Or yours?” he suggests leaning his head gently on your shoulder and giving it a quick kiss over the fabric
You stay quiet for a moment before nodding “Can we go to mine?” your voice so quiet but he heard it, he always heard you
“Guys we’re gonna head” Sirius announces pulling back from you, letting go of your hand briefly as you pack up, your movements more sluggish than his
After wishing his friends goodbye he wraps his arm around your waist as you walk, he doesn’t say anything at first waiting until you were in an abandoned bit of hallway “Are you feeling okay?” he stops walking hand moving to check your forehead
Your eyes close as he touches you “I’m fine” you say but you don’t sound it
He brushes some hair from your face before moving his arm back around you and walking again “I’m here if you need me darlin” he gives your waist a little squeeze in reassurance
Sneaking him up to your dorm you seemed to relax “Two of dormmates are having a sleepover and the other is with her girlfriend so they won’t be back until tomorrow” you explain your reason for going here even although he didn’t ask
Sirius smiles taking off his bag and shrugging off his robes, placing both neatly on your desks chair “What you fancy doing?” he asks sitting on the end of the bed, leaning back on his hands
You don’t answer right away just tugging on your bottom lip for a few moments “Can we hug?” you ask hopefully
He chuckles a little which makes you feel silly, when he sees your frown he tilts his head “Aww darling come here” he motions for you to climb on to his lap but you shuffle on your feet embarrassed “Y/n” he leans forward gently grasping your hands and pulling you towards him
“Sorry” you mumble head down looking at your intertwined hands
His eyebrows furrow, letting go of your hands and softly grasping your hips, pulling you closer to him “Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for” he shakes his head
“I…I’m…I’m sorry” you repeat pressing your hands to your face to hide the forming tears
Sirius doesn’t say anything just gently encourages you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you protectively as your head, still in your hands, leans on his chest. One of his hands moves to the back of your head, caressing your hair, before leaning his head on yours, placing a kiss to it
A few minutes later you pull back, eyes puffy and raw, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your shirt “You want to talk about it?” he asks softly, the pad of his thumb wiping the tears away from each side of your cheeks
Should you tell him? You knew you should, it wasn’t safe to let yourself do this alone but your fears were getting the better of you “No” you whisper, shaking your head unable to look at him
“You sure?” Sirius moves away the stray hairs that had stuck to your cheeks “You can tell me anything?” his voice wasn’t pleading but it was laced with it, he didn’t want to push you but he was getting worried
“I’m fine, just got a little overwhelmed with my essay…” you were overwhelmed but it wasn’t from school “and it’s just all catching up to me” you give him the best smile you could
Sirius looks into your eyes, like he’s trying to read your mind before he smiles back nodding “Okay darling” he gently pecks your lips “You want to go for a nap and cuddle?” he poses while your hands slip down to your wrist gently scratching at the vein, seeking relief
You nod but he hears the scraping of your nails against your skin, eyes trailing down “Y/n…” he grasps your wrists pulling them away from each other before attempting to inspect the skin but you quickly pull your hands back “Darling?” he looks upset…concerned…maybe heartbroken?
You remove yourself from his lap watching as he reaches out but stops just before his fingers get to you, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out, what should he say? Did he do something? Why were you hiding your wrist?
“Y/n what’s wrong?” he asks the worry evident in his voice as he tries to refrain from letting the tears that were welling fall but when you stay quiet one falls “Please…please I don’t want to push you…I just….just want to help” please let me help
Help you? No one ever offered to help you, they always told you what to “You wouldn’t understand” you shake your hand looking at the floor
“Try me” he holds his hand out towards you, hoping you’ll take it
Instead of speaking you start to unbutton your shirt making his eyes go wide “Y/n w…what are you doing?” he stutters a little going to stop you but you shake your head
You and Sirius had never gone by kissing, you slept next to each other sure but he had never seen you naked, never seen the scars. He had once told you his secrets now it was time for you to bare yours, you weren’t sure if you were ready but there was this tiny voice amongst the noise screaming for you to do it, to tell him.
You continue to remove your shirt, watching as Sirius keeps his eyes fixed on your face as best he can, confusion painted across his. When you finish with the buttons you let the fabric drop to the floor, leaving you in just your bra.
Sirius’ eyes flick down before he closes his eyes, feeling guilty for looking “Siri” you try to get his attention but his eyes remain closed “Please look at me” you ask, sniffling lightly
He looks back up eyes fluttering open, watching you give him a nod before his eyes trail over your body. Your neck, the little blemishes between your breasts, then back to your upper arms and shoulders were there were more little blemishes and finally your wrist. The irritation from your nails still present, faint lines streaking across them.
He lets out a shaky breath as his eyes return to your face, watching as you turn away from him, revealing your back, similar blemishes running from your shoulder blades and down your spine, along with some open cuts…spots? He couldn’t tell
He notices you looking in the mirror, a frown on your face “Y/n” he stands up walking slowly towards you “Can I?” he ghosts his hands over your hips
His hands gently wrap around as you nod, slithering around your waist, hands settling on your stomach “You’re beautiful” he whispers, kissing your bare shoulder as his thumbs rub gently at the elastic of your skirt
You shake your head “You see these” you raise your arm, pointing to one of the blemishes “These aren’t beauty spots, or freckles…or blemishes…” you take a moment to ready yourself “They are scars…and I made them…every one of them I created when I was upset, or nervous…it…it gave me relief” you turn your head to look at him “They’re ugly”
He removes his arms from your front and grasps your hips moving you gently around to face him before cupping your cheeks “They are not ugly. You are not ugly” his voice sincere but firm, licking his lips as he pushes some hair from your face “What…you don’t have to tell me” he adds before asking “What happened to your wrists?” his fingers gently take your hand holding it up
“I scratch at them…I just get the urge to” you try to explain it
He lifts your wrist up to his lips, placing a gently kiss on the scars “Come here” he walks backwards, pulling you with him as he sits on the bed and you settle onto his lap “You said I wouldn’t understand it…was these what you meant…” his fingers glaze one on your clavicle
“A part of it” he nods for you to go on “Sometimes I get these…thoughts, bad ones, and those lead me to picking and hurt…umm…hurting myself”
He winces at the last bit “How can I help?” you tilt your head “What wrong?”
“I don’t know” you answer honestly “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” you start to break down
“There is nothing wrong with you” he looks at you in disbelief, how could an angel like you think that “You are wonderful, whatever is going on it isn’t because you are broken” he tries to reason
You let out a sob “But everyone else…”
“Fuck everyone else…Sorry” he butts in apologising as your eyes blow wide “I’m sorry darling…please continue” he kisses your nose, hand rubbing up and down your arms, soothing the goose bumps that had formed from the cold air of the room
“I’m built…weird…I feel silly all the time, I can’t talk to people, I don’t understand why I can’t be normal like everyone else, why I feel like everyone hates me. I feel fine one minute then and the next all I want to…to…just disappear” it all spills out
“Disappear?” he questions worried that it means what he thinks it does
Your hands go to scratch but Sirius gently takes them into his, lacing your fingers together “Disappear like go away…everyone would be better without me, I’m just a burden” your voice is a whisper at this point
Sirius’ mouth parts, his heart shattering at the confession “How…” he starts to cry “How would the world be better if you weren’t in it?” he pulls you closer to him “Darling”
“I shouldn’t have said anything…” you start to cry as well
“I made you cry” you blub out, you felt terrible, you made the person you love cry over how broken you were
Sirius wrapped his arms around you tightly, head burying itself into the crook of your neck, clinging on to you like he was going to lose you, a mantra of mumbles leaving his mouth that you couldn’t decipher from your own crying and his
The moment was interrupted as the door suddenly opens, Sirius and your heads shooting up to see one of your dormmates walking in “Oh” she looks startles to see you, her eyes trailing over the position you were sitting, the lack of your shirt and the fact both of you were clearly crying “What’s going on?” she asks like it was her business to know
“That’s between me and my girl” Sirius answers for you, voice firm despite the tears, holding you close to him to hide you from her inappropriate stares
She doesn’t look convinced “Your girl? This looks like a break up to me” she scoffs
“No one fucking asked you” he snaps at her irritated “And for your knowledge it isn’t a break up, there is no way in hell I’m every willingly breaking with her. Until y/n’s bored of me she’s stuck with me because I love her…get the hell out I don’t care if your dorm out!” he half shouts the last part pointing for her to leave, he didn’t mean to rant but in his emotional state he couldn’t stop it
“Whatever” the girl shrugs rolling her eyes, closing the door behind her as she walks out
Sirius shakes his head “What is wrong with her…who asks that” he says annoyed while you just look at him in a mild shock, love you, he’d never said that before “Seriously what makes her think she can just assume that and don’t get me started…”
“Siri” you try to interject but he continues
“…on the way she was staring at you, she should have left right away this was a private…”
“Siri” you tug on his shirt, finally getting his attention
“…conversation…” his voice slows down “Merlin…sorry” he leans his forehead in yours
“You love me?” you ask quiet and unsure if you heard him right
He pulls back, cupping your cheeks “Very much…not exactly the way I meant for it to slip out I was planning something much more romantic and less…rave-y” he chuckles a little
Sirius takes a moment to think before looking into your eyes “When you feel that way…feel like you don’t want to be here anymore, tell me…I know you won’t want to…” his eyes become glassy “…but please tell me”
“I’ll try” is all you could say
He gives you a sad smile nodding “Thank you” he kisses your forehead “I do have an idea for how to help with the picking…if you want of course” he asks checking you were comfortable, continuing as you nod “When you feel like picking, take my hand…like this” he laces your hand in his larger one giving it a gentle squeeze “Doesn’t matter if we’re in class or just hanging out, you take my hand…we can try it for a little while see if it helps?”
Your lips tug up ever so slightly but drop again “What do I do when you’re not next to me?” you didn’t want risk becoming completely reliant on Sirius, that wouldn’t be fair on him or you
“You sit with James, Remus and Lily in other classes you aren’t with me and when we’re hanging out as a group so…” he takes a second “with your permission I’ll let them know that if you take their hand you’re a little nervous and they’ve to let you hold it, or if it’s really bad take you somewhere you can calm down” he poses looking for any signs of worry “I won’t tell them any more than that”
You mouth parts, tears in your eyes but they aren’t of sadness “You would really do all that for me, they would really do that?” you check, you didn’t think they actually liked you, just put up with you
“Of course they love you, not as much as I love you but they do” he assures “Lily ever since I met her has talked about how nice you were. I’d heard so much and may have staked you slightly from afar…” he admits making you giggle, the sound warming his heart “…that when she introduced you finally I was so excited” he starts smiling “Remus and James think you’re wonderful, Remus likes having someone that listens and talks to him about books, James loves studying with you because you always doodle the most random things. You know how some of your spare parchment went missing?” you nod “He stole it because you drew a stag, he has it in a little frame in his room”
You let out quick breath “Really?” you say surprised, you couldn’t believe it
“Really” he affirms
You were happy but you also knew that this might not last “Siri…this…these thoughts come randomly, I might start feeling like this again…it goes through phases” a sad look spreads across your face “Sometimes I think I got better but then I just have a setback and realise I’m still broken”
“That’s okay…not…fuck” he cringes “I mean it’s okay that you don’t get better overnight” he says shocking you “Darling there isn’t a quick fix to anything I know that, I’ve watched Remus go through something similar, but over the years with me, James and Pete…” he trails off thinking for a second before reaching over to grab a bit of parchment and his quill, beginning to draw a graph
“Right so this is time” he points to the bottom axis “This is the intensity of the bad feelings or thoughts” he points to the other “So right now it’s like this” he draws a large peak “then it goes down and eventually happens again right?” you nod watching as he draws another peak but its smaller than the last “Each time you feel like this you’ll get a little bit better at dealing with it…” he continues drawing peaks all slowly getting smaller until he draws a larger one again confusing you “…every now and again it’ll get worse, but that’s not a set back because when you look at this on a large scale the trend is going down” he explains “Close up there’s all these bumps in the road” he traces over the peaks “But the general trend is you are…it’s not a fix…it’s more of a way of dealing with it easier, it won’t knock you down as hard as it did before” he looks up at you, cringing a little at he feels he’s lost you “That made no sense did it” he sighs in defeat
“No I…I think I get it” you nod before a grateful look appears on your face “This is the first time anyone’s taken the time to explain this to me…most people say I should just be happy” you mock
“Well they’re stupid” Sirius says plainly making you laugh “Also my statement earlier about fuck everyone else still stands…metaphorically of course I’d prefer you only did the literal with me” he can’t help himself and that earns him a nudge
“Siri” you bite your lip a tad embarrassed, slowly remembering you’ve been shirtless this whole time
Your arms come up to cover yourself, something Sirius notices “Here” he pulls off his jumper, helping you to slip in on “Better?”
“Yeah…thanks” you hug the jumper, sniffing it gently “Can we nap and cuddle now?”
He smiles “Course darlin,” he lets you stand up, moving over to open the covers and letting you crawl in before joining you
He gently fixes the covers and positions you to lay your head on his chest “Siri” you look up at him
“Yeah darling?” he gives you a little squeeze as he looks down
“I love you too” you say with a smile to which he leans down giving you a kiss to the lips
A/n: Truthfully i did’t know how to end it, it is quite long but the ending is a little rushed and i apologise for that 💛
𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽
“You know I’m not dying right?” “Am I not allowed to still care for you?” with Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
TW: Hospitals, Reader Injury, Slight Violence.
It's been a while since you were admitted to the hospital, but it felt like just yesterday when the unsub shot you. Luckily before anything more could happen to you the rest of the team got there and arrested him, you were just glad that the bullet didn't hit Spencer. All of the team had visited you during your stay, JJ brought her husband and son, Penelope and Emily came with some of your favorite food, Hotch and Rossi came along with some books, and so did Derek. Even Spencer, your boyfriend, came with flowers, and now your table was covered with a colorful floral display, and today was no different.
You heard the familiar rhythm knocking on the door, a pleased smile made its way on your face and you let the person from behind the door know they could come in. "Hey, I brought some flowers, again. This time they're yellow tulips," Spencer replaced one of the wilting bouquets with the new one. "Did you know they symbolize happiness, cheerfulness, and hope? I thought they would be perfect for today since the nurse told me that you will be discharged from the hospital after we get the papers filled out," he handed you a clip with the discharge paper, a smile on his face. After filling out the papers and carefully changing you left the hospital with him holding your bags and the flowers.
Once you made it to the car Spencer opened your side of the door and helped you in. “You know I’m not dying right?” you told him, with a small smile on your face. “Am I not allowed to still care for you?” he humored back. "No, of course, you're allowed to still care" he smiled at this "Good because I don't plan on stopping," he said, and entered his side of the seating, and drove off to both your shared apartment.
Hey lovely, may I please request soft dialogue prompt for buddie?
25. You're alright, love. Your okay or 17. I'm fine honest, let me see??
of course love! i was feeling angsty, so i went with 17 💙💜 you know what, i got halfway through this, said fuck it, and decided to do both <3
Buck saunters away from the scene, Eddie watching carefully out of the corner of his eyes as he goes. He wants to run to him, he does, but he has to finish with the report first.
When he's done, Eddie immediately goes in search of Buck, frowning when he learns that nobody has checked him out, Buck all but refusing in typical Buck fashion. Eddie wasn't having it.
He finds Buck sat on the edge of the firetruck, holding his injury out of view with his turnout coat, half slinging off the injured arm. Eddie motions to the covered arm as he nears, willing Buck to look at him.
"Buck, why haven't you let anyone look at that?"
Buck shrugs his shoulders, leaning his head back against the engine, his eyes closed tight.
"It's nothing. I'm ok. Just ready to get out of here."
They'd been on scene for several hours, most of it grueling, especially when Eddie thought he'd lost Buck, the man slipping just from his reach.
As if still sensing his eyes on him, Buck finally opens his own, those blues of his looking a little hollow, moisture pooled in them; he had to be in pain.
"I'm fine Eds, honest."
Eddie doesn't buy it for a second, moving to sit at a crouch just in front of him.
"Let me see."
Buck sighs heavily, looking to Eddie, then back to his arm before finally shedding his coat, his hand immediately going to cover over the wound.
Eddie reaches his hand up to Buck's, slowly prying it away so he can see what they're working with. Buck's still wearing his long-sleeve LAFD shirt, though it's torn where the wound is, soaked in blood. There's a nicely sized gash there, one that's still not clotted, fresh blood oozing out of it.
"Buck. You need stitches. Why didn't you say how bad it was?"
Buck just shrugs his shoulders while simultaneously trying to move Eddie's hand away, though Eddie doesn't budge.
"C'mon, we need to get you to the hospital."
Buck's grip on him tightens then as he shakes his head profuesly.
"No. No-no hospitals. I-I'll be fine."
Eddie sighs with sympathy, knowing how much his best friend hates that place; it's not Eddie's favorite either, especially when he has to visit Buck there.
Taking Buck's hand off his, Eddie applies pressure to the wound, wrapping it tightly once he's got some of the blood to subside.
"Buck, you have to, ok? I'll go with you. I'll be right by your side like always."
Buck looks to him, those blues all but pleading.
Eddie nods his head, giving Buck's knee a reassuring squeeze before standing, beckoning Buck to do the same.
"Promise. I'm not going anywhere."
Buck agrees, albeit a little unwillingly, though Eddie finally gets him up and into one of the extra trucks, giving Bobby a heads up before taking off, their teammates stating that they'll catch up with them soon.
Buck's still reluctant once they get inside, though he lets Eddie guide him, refusing to let Eddie leave his side. While the doctor cleans and stitches Buck up, Eddie stands next to him, letting Buck absently toy with his hand, squeezing their fingers together when the pain becomes too much.
When Buck's deemed good to go, Eddie checks the stitches over himself, brushing his fingers along the sensitive skin there. Buck shivers in his touch, though he doesn't pull away, doesn't flinch.
"You ready to go home?"
Buck looks to him with an understanding, one that's become all too common for them. Home is Eddie's place, the one where they both feel safest, whole.
Eddie guides Buck down the hall, thanking Carla as they go, both of them checking on Chris before making their way into Eddie's room. He hands off a pair of sweats and a hoodie to Buck, knowing those are his favorite comfort items, ushering him into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
Eddie busies himself with changing into his own pajamas, though he begins to worry when Buck doesn't emerge after a while.
He goes and taps on the bathroom door softly, waiting to hear something in turn.
When he doesn't hear anything he knocks again, though he's still met with silence. Slowly, Eddie pushes the door open, calling out to him once more.
Buck's changed into the clothes, though he's stood at the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror, tears falling out of those blues. A sob escapes him as he catches sight of Eddie, Eddie moving toward him immediately. He gathers Buck into his arms, whispering reassurances as he goes.
"You're alright love. You're ok."
He lets Buck cry it out, knowing the overwhelming events from the day have finally caught up to him, Buck finally feeling safe enough to let it all go.
When his sobs subside, his breathing evening out a little, Eddie guides Buck into the bedroom, coaxing him onto the bed before laying next to him, dragging the covers over them. He instantly gathers Buck back in his arms, Buck tucking his face right under Eddie's neck, breathing him in.
Eddie presses a kiss to Buck's curls before he can think better of it, wrapping his best friend up tighter.
"Always. Nowhere else I'd rather be."
Buck snuggles in closer to him, Eddie running his fingers through those curls until he hears Buck's breathing evening out, letting himself drift to sleep after.
When he wakes in the morning, there's a sea of blue above him, Buck smiling down to him.
Eddie reaches up to drag Buck's face closer, pressing their lips together for a soft kiss.
They spend the morning exploring each other with tender touches and movements, Eddie pressing feather-light kisses around Buck's injury. He might've been fine, but Eddie had to know for himself; he would always check on Buck, no matter what. He had his back, always.
soft-ish dialogue prompts